#I think I have like two or three things in my drafts that are responding to you just I'm postponing them for after I reread Hollowpox

[wundrousarts]

What do you think about the other Wundersmiths besides Morrigan and Squall?

There are always 9, and Squall supposedly uses the "curse" to cover up killing all the children born on Eventide, because they have the potential to become Wundersmiths. Yet there were only three other cursed children registered in the Republic (and even then, Jupiter didn't think that they were Wundersmiths at all). Do you think that all of the other Wundersmiths went unregistered in the Republic? Are some actually born in Nevermoor? How come they haven't been discovered, if Squall can't kill them (I assume he can't, given that they don't seem to have any version of the curse)? Why can't they be born in Nevermoor, and does it have something to do with the attempted coup/massacre?

I think it could be possible that post-Massacre, Wundersmiths couldn’t be born in Nevermoor due to the magic that’s keeping Squall out, but I can’t say if the same is true pre-Massacre. According to Sofia, in the olden days when a Wundersmith would die, Wunsoc would send out a team to search “all over the realm” for the new one. This would cover all of the States, probably also the Free State. I think sometimes folks forget that Nevermoor is just a city in a larger state! I think it could be interesting if the city of Nevermoor is so Wunder-dense that Wundersmiths can’t be born there. I also like to think that Nevermoor/Wunsoc is similar to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, if you’re a Star Wars fan. Both are places of study that people with magic powers who are taken away from their parents at a young age go to train.

When it comes to the cursed children, I feel like the “lightning rod” parallel in Nevermoor and Hollowpox solidifies for me that they all are (or, eight of them are) Wundersmiths. It’s mentioned that there’s three other children on the registry, and then Mog is the fourth, so there should be four other mini Wundersmiths out in the world. It is possible that they aren’t registered. They also possibly could be in the Free State perhaps. Regardless of where any of them are, because of the Gossamer and the Hunt, Squall can just kill them whenever from wherever it seems.

You have to also remember that the "curse" isn't real, it's just something that people made up to rationalize why the children died. If there are perhaps Wundersmiths born in the Free State, perhaps they're harder to spot because they aren't publicly registered in the same way. Also, I wonder if any of accidental manifestations are brushed off easier because the Free State is so much more Wundrous than the Republic. I know that Mog had like a huge gathering, but perhaps it's a little easier to passively or unconsciously use up/dispel Wunder in the Free State just because there's so much that seems fueled by it. This, along with the fact that there is no longer a dedicated Wundersmith Search Team, might be why folks slip under the radar and also don't raise alarm bells when they are inevitably killed by Squall. Also, they may not even manifest anything! Nothing Mog was accused of ever seemed to link back to her Wundersmith powers afaik, and I think she was only found by Jupiter due to her abnormally large gathering of Wunder.

Additionally, referring back to Sofia’s quote, they could also just die whenever. Perhaps, despite Squall’s best effort, not all of the Wundersmiths are always born on Eventide post-Massacre just because one died of natural causes or an accident earlier than expected and threw a wrench into the reincarnation tracking. Don’t think too hard about how this then wouldn’t match up with my Eventide theory 100%, because that honestly has a lot of holes and I might have to put that on hold for a book or two until we get more Wundersmith info.

I don’t think there’s another child Wundersmith out there waiting to be featured in a future book, and I also don’t think that there’s secretly an older Wundersmith out there. I think that Squall would’ve noticed that during his cullings. However, I'm curious what Jupiter meant when he said "they're safe" when asked about the other cursed children. I wonder if he did manage to snatch one or two up, or if that was a lie. I personally don't think there's any more out there, nor do I want any more to show up, but who knows.

I think it’s worth mentioning that Mog, as our beloved Main Character, is an Anomaly. Whereas other States with cursed children had shortages, there was an abundance of Wunder in Wolfacre. I don’t think it’s something like “some Wundersmiths are just more powerful than others,” I think that Mog's power compared to the others is due to her mindset + emotions + the environment that she was raised in that caused her to just unconsciously gather an absolutely massive amount of Wunder. For all we know, the other cursed children could have been coddled by their parents due to their bad luck and impending deaths whereas Mog was scorned. Honestly, I wonder if her family might've treated her a little nicer if her mom hadn't died? Anyways, Mog's resentment and anger and emotions are vital to her power, which is something we see explored a lot in Wundersmith, especially with Inferno. She stood out to both Squall and Jupiter, which is why both of them wanted to pluck her up.

If anything isn't clear or you'd like me to elaborate, please let me know! Also if any of my info is straight up wrong, please tell me, because that happens sometimes lol.

TL;DR: I think it’s hard to theorize and answer a lot of these questions with much certainty because there’s a lot we don’t know, either because it hasn’t been discussed yet or it’s been filtered through biased or unreliable sources.

Side note: do you think that Squall also kills any other unlucky (lol) people born on Eventide that aren’t Wundersmiths, or does he spare them?

[cameronsprincess]

THE STORM (PT. 2) — J.M

— summary: it’s been six months since that night at the chateau with jj, and he’s back for more.

— CW: mean!jj, maybe forced proximity??, slight breeding kink, slapping, choking, degrading, unprotected piv sex.

— note: i kinda came up with something for this, and have had it in my drafts for a minute.. i queued it up before i went on my break, hope y’all enjoy and i’ll be back soon! you can read part one here if you haven’t already!

It’s been six months since that night. The night that has consumed your every waking thought, and every nightmare you had.

You’d always known JJ hated you, so you don’t know why it really surprised you that things went down the way they did. JJ was a horrible person to put it nicely. Sure, you felt for him at times, his home life not being the best and all, but after that night, you stopped caring, you stopped trying, and you tried your hardest to ignore him.

But it’s hard to ignore someone who continually puts themself in your line of sight. You knew you’d still see him, seeing as the two of you are both in the same friend group, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t ignore his presence. The more you tried to ignore him though, the harder he tried to get your attention.

He’d throw mean jabs your way, shoulder check you as he walked past you, you’d catch him staring at you from across a room or when you and your friends are gathered around a late night fire his bright blue eyes stayed glued on you when no one else was paying attention.

This was one of those moments.

You and your friends decided to have a fire at the chateau, and the only thing you could focus on was the blonde whose blue eyes were burning a hole into the side of your face.

“So like I said, he’s a dick, and I hope our dad kicks him out soon.”

You blink once. Twice. Three times before finally putting your focus back on Sarah who had been talking to you.

“I’m so sorry, Sare. I’m just out of it tonight, what’d you say?”

Sarah places a loving hand on your shoulder before laughing. “It’s cool, just me complaining about Rafe, per usual. Are you okay?”

You slowly nod your head, letting your head hang and your eyes focus on the seltzer you had in your hands. Truth was, you were far from okay. Even after everything JJ has put you through — before and after you had sex with him — you couldn’t get him out of your head. You wanted to feel him again, you wanted to let him ravage you again, and you hated yourself for it.

“Yeah I’m good. Just tired, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” You pause, looking up and calling for John B. “You mind if I sleep in the spare room tonight?”

John B smiles back at you, nodding his head once. “Yeah that’s fine! Looks like you got the couch tonight, J.”

Your eyes flit over to JJ, his intense fiery gaze already on you. The corners of his lips lift into a small smile, but it looked evil. “Yeah, that’s cool.” He said lowly, responding to JB but his eyes never left yours.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire despite the cold December air, and it wasn’t from the large fire blazing in front of you. No, it’s JJ and his all consuming presence that has your body feeling like it’s burning from the inside out.

You quickly drop your eyes, downing the last of your seltzer and crushing it in your hand. You tell your friends goodnight and head inside the old house, tossing the can into the trash and making your way down the small hallway and into the guest bedroom.

You hated the way JJ made you feel. You hated him. You hated how you still wanted him even after he used you and quite literally tossed you to the side when he was done with you.

His words have torn you apart the last six months. “We don’t talk about this, ever. got it? It was just.. hate sex? Someone had to fuck the attitude out of you. This changes nothing, you mean nothing to me, and i still hate you.”

You’re stripping yourself of your jeans and thick sweater, getting ready to climb into the bed when the unmistakable sound of the bedroom door squeaking open has you turning fast on your heels.

JJ.

“What.. What’re you doing in here?”

You hate the way your voice has a slight shake to it, the way you don’t sound confident and how your entire body is shaking in his presence. But most importantly, you hate the way your pussy is throbbing, growing wet at just the sight of JJ and his fucking stupidly beautiful face.

He smirks at you, reaching a hand behind him and locking the door. You take a cautious step backward, your eyes narrowing and head cocked slightly to the side as you watch him watch you.

“JJ! What the fuck are you-”

The rest of your sentence dies when JJ reaches you with just two long strides, his large, calloused hand wrapping around your throat and shoving you into the wall behind you.

“You’re driving me fucking insane. You know that? I fucking hate you, yet, I can’t get you out of my fucking head.”

Your eyes go wide, tears clouding your vision as you try and gasp for air. Your lips move, trying to choke out a response or anything, but all that comes out is strangled nonsense.

“I’ve tried! I’ve tried fucking other girls, I’ve tried staying away from you. But you’re fucking everywhere. Do you know how goddamn irritating that is? Why can’t you just go back to figure eight and stay there? Why the fuck do you keep comin’ around here?”

You lift your arms, gripping onto his wrist that holds your throat and clawing at it, begging him to release you. It’s not your fault he can’t stop thinking about you. You weren’t the one that came onto him that night, it was him! So why are you being blamed? Why is he making it so hard to breathe? So hard to… To..

Black dots take over your vision, your body going numb as JJ tightens his hand around your throat, squeezing so hard you’re close to blacking out.

JJ senses your body going slack in his hold and releases you, stepping back and watching as you hunch over, hands gripping your knees as you suck in breath after breath of sweet oxygen.

Once your head is not longer spinning and you’re breathing properly again, you slowly lift your body, your pissed off gaze finding JJ still standing there.

“Fuck you, JJ! I didn’t do shit! You came onto me that night! You told me that it changed nothing, so frankly, I don’t fucking feel sorry that you can’t get me out of your head, in fact, it brings me great pleasure to know I’m all you think about,” you pause, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking in a slow, long breath of air. “So if you don’t fucking mind, I’m exhausted and just want to be left the fuck alone!”

You move to climb into the bed, but JJ grips your upper arm tightly pulling you back and flush into his firm body. His head dips down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear and sending a shudder through your body.

His warm breath fans across your sensitive skin, and your nipples harden in response. Fuck him. You won’t give in easily this time.

“I think you want to fuck me again. I think, I’ve been in this pretty little head just as much as you’ve been in mine,” He pauses, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your temple. “Lay on the bed, Y/L/N. Now.”

You turn your head to look at JJ, your eyes narrowed into thin slits as you contemplate what to say. He’s not entirely wrong, but you’d be stupid to sleep with him again.

“Fuck. You. I refuse to let you fuck me again.”

JJ’s eyes darken, and the hand on your arm tightens more before he yanks you to the side and tosses you onto the bed. You lay there, chest heaving up and down as you watch him intently, waiting to see what he’d do next.

He stands there, staring at you, his own breathing erratic. Slowly, he pulls his tight white t-shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. Your eyes scan the length of his tanned and toned chest. God, you want to feel him underneath your hands so badly, you want to give in and let him fuck you again. No one, and you mean no one, had ever fucked you the way JJ had.

“You look real pretty like this, in nothing but your bra and panties, actin’ like your pussy isn’t fuckin’ soaked f’me, crying f’me and just begging to be filled with my cock again.”

You open your mouth to speak, but JJ climbs on top of you, grabbing both your wrists in his right hand and pinning them above your head. You gasp loudly when you feel his cock pressing against your lace covered core, even through his jeans you can feel every last inch of him. Your pussy throbs, your arousal soaking your thighs as he lays there, unmoving but still the feel of his hard cock has you wanting to feel more of him.

“Tell me, princess. You wanna feel me inside you again? You wanna be fucked properly again? Because I know them kooks ain’t doing you no good. No, a girl like you needs to be dominated, needs to be choked and slapped and fucked nice and hard, needs to be put in her place, that what you want baby?”

You’re weak. You can’t even tell him no when your slick thighs, hard nipples and the way you’re breathing is giving the truth away. And the truth is, JJ is right. No one has compared to him. You want him to claim you, to break your mind and leave you craving more even when you know you shouldn’t.

“I- Please. Please fuck me.”

That’s all JJ needed to hear. He releases your wrists from his hand and yanks the cups of your bra down, exposing your tits to him. He smirks at the sight of your hard nipples, dipping his head down and licking each one before sucking one into his mouth.

He releases your nipple from his mouth with a pop, moving to the other and repeating his actions. “Fuck, such a filthy fucking slut, yeah? Loves the idea of fucking the one person she shouldn’t.”

You whimper in response, bucking your hips upward, craving any type of friction on your swollen, needy clit.

“Awww, how pathetic. Begging to be fucked already, don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna fuck this cunt, and I’m fucking it raw this time.”

JJ hops off the bed, popping the button of his jeans and sliding the zipper down with haste. You watch as he slides his jeans and boxers down his legs in one fell swoop, wasting no time in crawling back on top of you and claiming your lips with his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down and further into you. You grind your hips against his, feeling his thick cock slide up and down through your slick folds. JJ groans in response, breaking the kiss and pushing himself up, supporting his weight with both his hands.

“So fuckin’ eager, aren’t ya? Wanna be fucked like the dirty little whore we both know you are.”

You nod your head fast, whimpering and moaning as you continue to grind your hips against the air. JJ laughs at you, his hand landing a harsh smack to your cheek before he grips his cock, stroking at it twice before sliding his swollen tip through your folds.

“P-Please, J! Please, fuck me! Wanna be fucked like a whore, wanna be your whore, the girl you hate but fuck anyways!”

JJ groans, the weight of your words hitting him hard. He looks down at you, eyes locked with yours as he pushes himself all the way inside you, filling and stretching your pussy. The two of you moan in unison.

“Fuck! So fuckin’ tight, feels so much better than I remember.” JJ rasps, his hips still, cock unmoving inside your pussy.

You begin grinding your hips, wanting to feel him move inside you, wanting his cock to bring you an orgasm.

JJ slaps at your face again, giving you a look of warning before he dips his head down and captures your lips with his again. He kisses you fervently and begins moving his hips, slowly at first, but then hard and fast.

You moan into his mouth when his swollen tip repeatedly hits at your g-spot, making your toes curl and fingers dig into the smooth skin of his back. “Fuckfuckfuck, JJ! Feels so fucking good!”

JJ picks up the pace of his thrusts, pounding himself inside you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it, and you’re secretly praying it isn’t the last time. You need more of him forever, even if it’ll only ever be hate sex. It feels so fucking good, you can’t even think of another girl getting this from him.

“Yeah? Feels good? Want me to cum inside this pretty little pussy? Make you a mama and be stuck with me for the rest of your life?”

A loud moan escapes you at his words, and honestly, the thought isn’t too bad. You wouldn’t mind JJ knocking you up, you would always have a reason to see him, and maybe, just maybe, it would change the dynamic between the two of you.

You bite and suck on his lower lip as he continues his brutal thrusts, your pussy clenching around him with every push and pull of his cock. He slows his pace, slowly pulling out so only the tip remains inside you before harshly shoving himself back in. He continues to slowly pull himself out before shoving himself back in, his swollen head hitting that spot inside you over and over again until you’re so close to exploding you can taste it.

“J-JJ! Need.. Need to cum, please!”

Your teeth are chattering, legs shaking and belly tightening. You can’t hold off your orgasm, and thankfully, JJ doesn’t make you.

“Go on, make a mess on my cock, show me how much your pussy loves my cock being inside her.”

That was all it took, your orgasm gushes from you, soaking JJ’s cock and the sheets below you.

“JJ, oh God! Fuck!” You cry out, your nails digging into JJ’s back so hard you break skin.

JJ picks up the speed of his thrusts again, savagely fucking into your sensitive pussy, chasing his own high.

“Gonna cum inside this little cunt, claim you as mine, because you’re mine now, don’t wanna see you with anyone else, got it?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, moaning out a soft “yes”. JJ’s cock swells, twitching inside you as he comes undone, filling you with his cum like he said he would.

He thrusts inside you one final time, stilling and holding himself deep inside you, letting every last drop of cum fill you. Once he’s come down, he slowly pulls himself from inside you and places a kiss to your sweat slick forehead.

“Don’t know what else to say besides, you’re mine. I ain’t sayin’ I like you, or that I am gonna fall in love with you, but I don’t want no one else, and I don’t wanna see you with anyone else, got it?”

You slowly nod your head, your eyes fluttering shut as sleep tries to claim you. JJ quietly redresses, placing one final kiss to the top of your head before he makes his way out of the room. You drift to sleep, your mind consumed with what just happened, with JJ’s cum leaking from your pussy, and thoughts of what the fuck was to come from this little arrangement you just made with him.

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[artsninspo]

"Baby-Girl" - Rio X Reader

RIO MASTERLIST

Author's Note: The draft clear out continues. I know these characters aren't my usual subjects but Rio from Good Girls ... love to hate his mean ass. I think I may have a few more with him, let me know what you think 😊

Summary: It's your sister-in-law Ruby's 40th birthday so you come into town to show her and her friends a good time. Only you meet a flirty stranger who screams trouble in her house.

Word-Count: 957

Your step falters as you see the G-Wagon parked in front of yours. This is the furthest thing from the neighborhood you see luxury vehicles in. Not to mention it looks kitted out. You can't remember the last time you saw one of these around and wonder if maybe Stan rented it for Ruby’s 40th. But with all the money trouble they’ve been having it seems like an unlikely expense. Continuing to the door you knock three times. Stan doesn't answer, a stranger with a neck tattoo does. Hispanic, tall, dark hair, olive skin and dark eyes.

“Uh… is Ruby home?” you ask skeptical and the stranger steps back looking you over. He likes what he sees.

“Ruby, you didn't say you have a sister” the man calls and Ruby materializes from the corner looking nervous.

“You’re early” she smiles and it feels insincere when you see her two best friends in the house and wave. They too look uneasy.

“Thought I would get ready here instead” you explain wheeling your suitcase forward. “Oh, and Ruby’s my sister-in-law Stan, her husband is my brother” you explain. The man smirks again, his charm is infections but there's something infectious about it.

“Got it baby-girl” he nods.

“Don’t call me baby-girl, unless you’re gonna treat me like it” you smile flirting with the handsome stranger and the ladies give an audible gasp. You laugh a little at the wives crew’s reaction to a little flirting.

“Anyways Ruby, I’m gonna go get dressed and when I get back downstairs we’re leaving. You only turn forty once” you tell her running up the stairs to the bedroom. When your brother Stan suggested you take a trip to lighten things up you were reluctant at first. Beth isn’t Your favorite person despite being Rubys. But Ruby has been having a tough time and you decide to support however you can. Tonight’s theme is Vegas. You get on your showgirl jumpsuit and do a quick face before stepping into your heels. You head back down to find Beth and Mr. Neck tattoo in what looks like a heated conversation. Minding your own business you head to the kitchen without a word. You procure shot glasses and retrieve your special bottles from your suitcase, still chilled to perfection. You turn to see him standing alone in the doorway.

“Expensive bottles,” he comments.

“Who wants to celebrate with the cheap stuff?” You ask. He looks you over giving a satisfied smile and you smile impressed by his presence. 

“Ruby doesn’t seem like the type,” he shrugs, coming closer.

“Of course not she’s  sensible, they have kids and expenses” you say getting the bottle open.

“You don’t?” He asks and you smile.

“I don’t even know your name, you don’t get to know my business,” you comment.

“I’m Rio” he introduces, making you smile.

“No, that’s not your name. You don’t look Brazilian, so your mom named you something classic, religious” you say knowing people from your years of service work.

“You’re good,” he nods with a smirk.

“And your trouble. I know because you’re not sweating or stuttering around me like all of Stan’s other friends.” You confess.

“I'm not your brother's friend,” he responds, and you look him over again. It makes sense, he’s far too cool to be a friend of Stans.

“No?”

“Nah, Beth and I’s kids play soccer together,” he says smoothly.

“I’m sure you’re a hit with all the moms. I’d be bored of the Deanzies too” you confess pouring tequila into shot glasses and cutting the lime. Tequila before champagne is a surefire way to make sure these ladies have fun.

“You bartend?” he asks perceptively.

“Yup” You nod as Annie enters. Her outfit isn’t to theme and she takes a shot without waiting for Ruby.

“That’s like a $400 bottle of champagne” she says looking at the bottle with watery eyes.

“For Ruby” you justify.

“Who spends that on booze!” she exclaims.

“A lot of people do,” you inform and she huffs.

“You spent four hundred dollars on champagne!” Ruby emerges.

“This guy who’s into me asked me what I wanted and I said a bottle of Ace because I knew I was coming here for a milestone. Why don’t you ladies stop being the IRS and relax” you snap as Beth emerges with a black duffle and hands it to Rio.

“What does he get in return?” Ruby asks unimpressed.

“For a bottle?” You scoff. “A thank you” you shrug.

“Must be the ass,” Annie says, making you laugh.

“It’s my job to know who’s generous. Stan! Nope, Dean well god bless him, I know girls that could get him to spend mortgage money. Annie, you had a good one” you deduce handing the ladies their drinks. Beth sends you a heated glance full of animosity. Rio chuckles seemingly amused.

“What about him?” Annie asks glaring at the tattooed visitor. He raises a brow with a smirk.

“Nope; and he’s got it too. He’s possessive so he’d probably cash out on his wife and kids. You know, as an ego thing. Might leave a good tip for his regulars. Not just anyone though.” You say throwing a shot back. “Am I right?” You ask and he smiles heading towards you, his cologne is intoxicating and expensive.

“She’s trouble Ruby” he says. “Nice meeting you baby-girl” he says reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of cash. He places it in your hands. “On me”. He walks out without a care in the world and you count five hundred dollars.

“Happy birthday Ruby!” You smile handing her the funds.

“You have to teach me how to do that” Annie remarks as Ruby and Beth look shocked.

Part Two

[ilycosy]

❝ PERFECTION ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader

summary — being a child of aphrodite deems you perfect from the moment you get claimed, the expection of complete and utter perfection can weigh down on somebody. somehow, a simple hermes boy reaches all those expectations without even trying.

warnings : hurt/comfort but it's platonic , this takes place in noted , luke is a cocky dumbass & reader is heavily implied to be autistic

aﾉn — first fic for noted !! the smau is being worked on l8r since im a little exhausted n not feeling well again but , i have this to hold u guys over <3 + some smut in drafts :33 every1 say thank u kai for proofreading this <33 @grsveyrrd

you couldn't remember the last time you felt at ease, being at camp always got your blood pumping and the rush of adrenaline in your veins. even being a daughter of aphrodite, stereotypically dainty, you still felt that rush for glory.

you couldn't ever express that need for it though, as camp counselor, you were always expected to guide younger campers into their quests and their own legacy while ignoring your own. it seemed that you were the only one held to that expectation though, clearly shown by hermes cabin.

luke castellan, son of hermes. god of messaging and traveling, he always seemed to be on the move— talking idly with anyone who will listen, overall somebody who people can look up to.

not you though, you couldn't help but resent him. his overly confident smile and cute head tilt, not to mention how he's always winning every sword fight he's ever been in. he'd say something stupid like 'perks of being the best in the last three-hundred years', and then your eyeroll would just fuel his ego.

perfection was expected at camp, from everybody. being the pride of the gods was almost unachievable, almost.

you and luke had always seemed to never get along, most played it off as playful banter but you both knew it was something more. you just couldn't stand each other, no matter how hard you both tried.

he was just easily amazing at everything he does, seemingly rushing into things without thinking and winning. while you were stuck on the opposite team desperately working, never succeeding.

frustration was the worst way to describe it, it barely encompassed everything you felt. "hey," a voice spoke out, sounding raspy from thirst. "luke is wondering where you are, it's almost time for archery."

evan, while not related to you in any way, he was basically your brother. you took a shaky breath as you looked down at the lake, the prickling pain of every sense coming alive at full force now hitting you.

you didn't respond to him, unable to form the words to describe how much you didn't want to face luke and be proved to be a fool again. the metallic clink of evan's armor was heard as he sat down next to you, he was supposed to be at a practice run of capture the flag right now.

"you're skipping practice." you state, your head resting on your legs as you breathe heavy. regulating yourself the way chiron taught you, even though it barely ever worked.

you heard the click of his mouth before he went quiet, drumming his fingers on his knee before speaking. "im helping my sister," he says, scrunching up his nose at the endearment he called you himself. "practice can't wait, besides ill just fall asleep."

you laugh but it hurts, not a good hurt but more of a achey hurt. hurt for the exertion of emotion, hurt that he finds himself useless in an important sport, and hurt that you're failing to meet your obligations for the other campers at archery practice.

evan fills the silence until he can't anymore, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. sometimes you wonder if he's mr. d's son with how he can act so witty and talkative with you, even though he's a hermit around others.

eventually though, his predictions were right. two hours into his talking he begins to lean, falling asleep almost as fast as he began talking. resting his head on your shoulder, his black hair tickling your cheek.

his smell was comforting though, and even though the armor he hadn't shed dug into your side and your stomach as you laid down with him on you— you couldn't imagine trading it.

his light snores and drool seeped into your bright orange shirt, but you ignored it. using his body as a weighted blanket as you looked out into the water, finding the warm sun and soft grass rather comfortable.

you drifted off easily, hypnos taking you under his wing as he allowed you a peaceful sleep. freed from worries and the expectations, he didn't even let you wake when another counselor found you guys.

luke looked down at the two of you in the grass, taking a moment to just be a tired teen with you before gently picking you up. smiling gently at evan's sleepy face before gesturing him to follow him back to the cabins, cradling you maybe a bit too close than he would with others.

but evan wouldn't say anything, the moment was perfect even if you didn't remember it. (he definitely took a picture though).

[judysxnd]

Some cute moments with Lando

All those little moments could be separate stories and could be more elaborated. Let me know if you want me do fully write them!

Had this in my drafts for a while, I thought I would add more but I actually didn’t, I know it’s not much but.. yeah, I’m still putting it out 🤷🏻‍♀️

————————————————————————————

number one:

Your both preparing dinner together. Neither of you are great cooks but sometimes you try. You put the tv on, on some music channels. “Gimme love” by Sia came on. You both started to sing and dance. You ended up pausing dinner and dancing in the kitchen.

At the end you said “I missed having you in the kitchen” he had a big smile, giving you a quick kiss on the lips.

“me too, I don’t like being away from you” you blushed as you couldn’t help but smile. You were staring at the food you were preparing, too shy to look at Lando.

number two:

Lando travels a lot, and unfortunately you cannot always be with him. But he never stops thinking about you. He always brings you back little souvenirs. Even when he just wanders in Monaco without you, he always brings you something.

Like one time, you were coming back from work. You were staying at his place for the night. When you came back home, he gave you a small pocket. Inside there was a little scrunchie with little cherries on it. He knows you love scrunchies, and he also knows cherries are your favorite fruits. He always thinks about you, buy you little things because he knows you love it. He loves to spoil you.

number three:

It’s more a heated moment but you found it cute how Lando was desperate for you. You ordered some new set of underwear a week ago and finally received them. You unpacked them but didn’t try them on yet because you had to leave in a few.

So you left them there, totally innocently on the bed, for you once you’ll be back. But Lando came back before you, and he was very (pleased) surprised when he saw what you ordered. That’s when you started to receive a few texts, Lando asking where you were and when you would be back. Once the reason of his impatient texts was revealed, he kept begging you to come back quickly.

“I can pick you up” he even texted

“and what about my car?” you responded

“We’ll get it later” he answered

He was eager to have you back home so that you could try the undies before he took them off of you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his behavior. After dating him for a while, nothing ever changed, he was still so obsessed with you, as much as you were with him. And let me tell you that once you were back, oh boy, it got very heated.

[fiveht]

Proof of life (Adore pt 3)

Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️

I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.

This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.

Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.

Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.

He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.

It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.

He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.

The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.

He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.

Rieka: let's go out tomorrow

Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal

Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks

Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.

Me: got plans

Me: raincheck?

So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?

Rieka: booooo 👎

He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.

Me: i'm ready

Me: are you in your office?

Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes

Daddy: Want me to call?

Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.

"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.

"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"

There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"

"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.

"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."

He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."

"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.

He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.

"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."

Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."

"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.

"Tell me how."

"I'm not gonna touch."

"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."

"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"

"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."

Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here. 

The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.

"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.

"How's it feel?" 

"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.

"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."

Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."

"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"

"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"Mmmm, surprise me."

"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions? 

Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.

"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."

Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.

There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair. 

"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."

"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges. 

"Tell me why."

"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."

"Good boy."

Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.

"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."

"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.

[olderthannetfic]

Someone recently left a comment on one of my fics that they were disappointed I wasn't addressing any of the criticism or comments I got on Goodreads. After all, I reply to comments on the actual fic. Why am I ignoring the Goodreads commenters?

Well, 1. I didn't know there was a Goodreads page for my fanfic 2. I think if they wanted a reply they'd say it where I'm known to reply to every single comment without fail and 3. the kind of dumbass who treats 800k of free fanfics in a series like something they paid for is not the sort of person I want to engage with. If 800k of stories, with main stories, tie-ins, prequel asides, missing scenes, etc. for free wasn't to your liking, just... go read another? We have stories in this fandom whose whole series clock in at over a million words. We have stories where people have done fan songs and fanart and fancomics tying into their main work. We have stories with multiple timelines. You have so many options, all of them totally free and easy to access. If my stories, which I fully admit ares flawed and show some of my weaknesses as an author, don't do it for you, you have options. You have wonderful options.

If I had an editor and a publisher and my stories were actual books, I wouldn't have this reaction to this comment. But these stories have one person working on them total. I'm not making income off of this. This is what I write while working two jobs, for fun. As much as I do view writing fanfic as something that helps me learn the ins and outs of writing and put my all into it, it's going to be rougher than if I'd had help with it or had time to do more drafts than the three I normally do.

And if I was known for ducking criticism, I would get having comments on another site. There are authors in my fandom who delete anything that's not praise. But I have had long conversations with my haters in which I take everything in good faith and explain my writing choices, word choices and ideas. I have my tumblr which is just about my fandom stuff listed in the AN of every chapter. DMs are open and anon is on. My Dreamwidth account, also under the same name, also has DMs open. I have publicly stated when I have made shit narrative choices and owned that yes, sometimes I have genuinely dropped the ball. This has influenced later chapters where things go off of the original outline in order for the shit choice to have consequences in a way that makes sense and feels true to the characters in the story.

So "why are you hiding from the Goodreads commenters?!" feels like the most baffling thing I've ever been asked. I tried to be nice about it, but all I could think was, "why didn't the Goodreads commenters who wanted a reply post their comments where they know I 100% would've responded to it?"

--

Madness!

(Also, lol, half the pro shit with a lot of comments on Goodreads is barely edited. Maybe they were bitching about content? But if it was whining about craft, the bar is in the floor and they have nothing to complain about.)

[about-faces]

Last night, I was once again struggling to actually write smut for a Harvey/Bruce/Gilda fic, when I noticed a very timely new guest comment on my Gilda fic, Bust. It was the first truly critical response I’ve gotten so far, and while that sort of thing would normally send me into a depressive tizzy, I actually found it really interesting!

So instead of actually writing the ship, as I should have been, I wanted to take this opportunity to think about just why the heck I shipped them in the first place.

Here’s how I responded, with added scans to hopefully better illustrate my point, plus some additions that occurred to me upon drafting this post:

I’m actually glad you raised this point, because I would have felt the exact same as you just a few years ago!

I’m gray-asexual, and I used to be a bit bothered by the rise of Bruce/Harvey shippers, because it was their canonical platonic FRIENDSHIP that mattered so much to me. I gradually warmed up to the shippers, because 1.) I realized I was ace and they probably weren’t, and 2.) they at least understood the importance of Bruce and Harvey’s bond, which is more than I can say for LOTS of official DC media.

Still, something bugged me about the ship, and I realized what it was: the lack of Gilda from the equation. She’s always been deeply important to me, especially her scant older appearances, and erasing her for a Bruce/Harvey ship (even one I’d come to appreciate) didn’t sit right with me.

But like you said, it’s not canon, and I’ve always been deeply invested in canon, even the stuff that’s frustrating and contradictory. So yeah, the throuple would have bugged me too.

Except! It all depends on WHICH canon you’re talking about!

So over the past 15 years, I’ve been obsessed with tracking down the entirety of the obscure, forgotten Batman newspaper comic strip from 1989-1991. I’ve posted the entire thing at @batman-daily, and I strongly encourage you to check it out. A couple years ago, I reread it and noticed something really interesting: the remarkable relationship between Bruce, Harvey, and the latter’s wife, Alice, who is Gilda in every way but name. They are all mutual friends, with Alice even going to visit Bruce alone to help/bully him to take care of himself.

It all reads like a perfect long-game setup for a love triangle, or for Harvey—having become Two-Face—to go after his loved ones in a jealous rage, like he did in Paul Dini’s “Two-Timer,” a story which notably showed that Grace had feelings for Bruce.

With that in mind, consider the final story arc of the newspaper strip, wherein Bruce acknowledges his OWN feelings for Alice and PASSIONATELY KISSES HER, all in a hilariously roundabout way to save her marriage to Harvey! It makes sense in context and is frankly hilarious.

And it works! Because Harvey isn’t jealous! The love triangle conflict you expect NEVER HAPPENS! Because they all love one another! And that love saves Harvey in the very end!

Was it explicitly a throuple? No, but nor have Bruce and Harvey ever canonically touched dicks. And yet the love between Bruce and Harvey in canon is true and real enough that shippers who want to make it sexual are perfectly allowed to do so, because it’s the love that matters. At least, for those of us who aren’t afraid to acknowledge the love between men, platonic or otherwise. And that love is rooted in canon.

So consider this: the mutual three-way-love between Bruce, Harvey, and Alice/Gilda is ALSO canon. That comic strip has been officially accepted as DC multiverse canon in the “Crisis on Infinite Earths: Absolute Edition,” which designated it as Earth-1289.

Furthermore, there’s something else you need to consider: the fact that Harvey HAS been used in love triangles against Bruce in several stories in recent decades. I already mentioned “Two-Timer,” but there’s also Nolan’s “The Dark Knight,” the animated “Gotham By Gaslight” film, and the Telltale game. In various ways, these stories serve to throw a wedge in the friendship between Bruce (the protagonist, whose story serves him) and Harvey (the guy who is going to lose it all, the woman included). I hate that shit. I hate the contrived drama that’s meant to stir up needless added conflict between two men who love each other.

And then, on the other hand, you have Mariko Tamaki’s Gilda story from “Batman: Black and White.” Tamaki depicted Harvey and Gilda being in a distant, loveless marriage, where even on their wedding day, he was constantly ignoring her in favor of work. The only person who could actually get his attention was Bruce.

At the time, this felt an awful lot like that problem I was talking about with the Bruce/Harvey shippers: raising up the gay ship while throwing the woman under the bus. In this case, for the purpose of doing an avenging girlboss take on Gilda. I hated that too, especially when Tamaki didn’t even follow through with the gay subtext in her next, miserable Two-Face comic.

You know that meme of a bride, groom, and best man all kissing one another, while the bride flips off the cameraman in the end? @whipbogard redrew the Tamaki wedding scene as that meme, right around the time I reread the comic strip. And suddenly, everything clicked into place for me.

After a lifetime of never, ever having any serious fandom ships, I fell in love with the idea of Bruce/Harvey/Gilda. Take what the comic strip did and bring it into the mainstream canon I love to spite the canon I hate.

In those great old Gilda stories, she saw through Harvey’s bullshit and knew how to reach him, however temporarily. She could do the same with Bruce. She’d be a valuable third voice for the ongoing toxic relationship between Bruce and Harvey, the one who could love them both while also getting to be frustrated with how fucking stupid and fucked-up both these men are.

Before she was reduced to a ride-or-die killer housewife in "The Long Halloween" (which, I'll grant you, has its own appeal), classic Gilda would actually stand up to Harvey and tell him to cut out his shit or else. I love the idea that she can also see right through Bruce, understanding how very alike he and Harvey are, even if they don't want to admit it.

Writing Gilda this way speaks to me as a longtime fan of both men, while also wanting to try to develop her place, as a woman stuck in the middle of their decades' worth of conflict and angst. She sees these men at their best, worst, and most pathetic/ridiculous, and while she's got the nerve to stand up for herself and call them out as needed, she still loves them nonetheless. For me, Gilda has become the voice for fans just like me, who are helpless to stop Batman and Two-Face from continuing the cycle of violent, toxic friendship, but still loving them nonetheless, and always hoping for the best.

So, at this point, let’s say I’ve at least managed to make you grudgingly accept my reasoning for the relationship. Even if that’s true, I’m gonna guess that the mention of a threesome felt like it came out of left field. I can’t argue with that. I wanted to actually write that as its own smutfic but, being ace, I struggle with that. But I really liked the idea, and as I was writing this, it just really wanted to be mentioned, so I included it.

The response has been positive (until now), which indicated to me that I had been successful in introducing Gilda as a viable third into a slice of fandom which had only shipped Bruce and Harvey. This is fanfic, after all, such things are expected, even encouraged, so I leaned into it.

Now, if I were ever (un?)fortunate enough to write for DC, officially? I doubt I’d have the nerve to go that far. But I’d still want to at least embrace the polycule-coded relationship between those three that we saw in the newspaper comic strip. I think it adds a whole new, refreshing spin on their ongoing dynamics, while being rooted in relationships that were established all the way back in 1942 by Bill Finger.

Finger’s story, at its heart, was all about how love can save a life. How love is the only way to defeat the villain. For Harvey Kent’s part, Gilda’s love was every bit as important as Batman’s unwillingness to give up on his friend. So I’m just taking it one step further within the freedom allowed me by fanfic.

Sorry for the length of the reply, but as you can see, I only came to this shit after several decades of thinking about 80+ years of official material. I hope I have at least been able to lessen your feelings of being jarred out of a story you otherwise seemed to appreciate. For my part, I hope to further develop the potential of this fucked-up polycule in future stories, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll be able to get you on board too. Hope to see you then!

(art by ofossart)

[smilesheartshugs]

Halloween AU pt.2

A continuation of:

Tim centric

It’s been four months since his parents were last home. About a month since he ran out of food. Three days ago the water faucets stopped working. Good news! His parents should be home soon! They promised they’d be home for his birthday! It’s his birthday tomorrow so his parents must be home soon! Until then he’ll wait in his safe spot. Years ago he had found a hollowed out section of wall in his closet. He can hear everything in the house from that spot. It’s also the warmest spot in the house. Especially when he moves the boxes to block the draft from entering his little budding spot. With the heater broken durning the unusually cold weather, the isolation of the walls keep his little hiddy hole warm. With nothing else to distract himself from his thirst and hunger, he might as well take a nap until his parents return home.

When Tim wakes up he’s face to face with his own body. Fear and confusion runs through him. What is he going to do when his parents get home?

He fazes through everything instead of touching it. At least he doesn’t feel hungry any more.

It’s another two months before his parents return home. With that time was able to practice picking things up and interact with the tangible world. If he didn’t know he was dead he would think he was still apart of the living.

After helping his parents unpack the first thing he says is “I died while you where away”

“Don’t be ridiculous Timothy you’re just fine. Obviously you’re standing right here” his mother responds

“No im a ghost!” Tim insisted

“There’s no such thing as ghost sport cease this game at once” his father answers

“No really my body is in my closet!”

The family argues back and forth for a bit which Jack and Janet believing Tim to be playing a game. They angrily look in his closet only to not see his body. After all it’s in the hidden hiddy hole in the very back behind some of the boxes. His parents leave before time could move the boxes out of the way. His body is certainly worse for wear. Areas have puffed up in some spots while other areas of flesh has melted away. When he first woke up after dieing his body only looked like it was asleep, now it looks like it belongs in a zombie movie.

Three years later

Jack and Janet are disappointed that Tim hasn’t grown any, he makes a shrimp ten year old. Tim has stopped insisting that he’s dead. The creative punishment his parents dish out has long made him stop wanting to prove his death.

Tim still checks on what’s left of his body, it’s mostly bone now, but it’s proof he’s not crazy and that he really did die. He watched as his flesh slowly rotted away.

He’s made friends with the Waynes, they think he’s a normal human boy, all be it a bit small. He learns that other undead creatures exist, as well as other hunting beings. Jason is another undead, though he got to keep his original body. He was murdered by a clown about a year after Bruce took him in. No one has seen the clown since then though. Tim suspects that the clown may have been one of the goul’s first meals that the werbat provided. That would explain why Jason was so quick to forgive Bruce and why the clown hasn’t been seen again.

Jason brings a lot of raw meat for his school lunches, usually beef or lamb. Though recently it’s been a lot more lamb than cow, Tim wonders why that’s the case.

One day Jason drags Tim back to Wayne manor under the guise of studying for their upcoming test together. Tim was quick to bond with the rest of the family. He’s felt more at home here than he’s ever felt back in drake manner. It doesn’t take long until Tim becomes a regular guest at Wayne manor.

Even though he doesn’t need to eat, Tim never turns down a meal. In fact, he’s almost always snacking on something. Even on those cardboard cookies no one likes. Well it might be more accurate to say he doesn’t physically need to eat. He gets anxious if he hasn’t had any thing to eat for a while. It’s nice of the Wayne’s to bring him all these extra snacks though!

Two years later

Tim is a regular fixture in Wayne manor. After finding out how often his parents are away they insisted that he’d stay with them.

This brings us to the current problem. Cass needs to cast a protection charm on the manner, a ward agent an evil cult. Unfortunately there’s one ingredient that Cass can’t get her hands on.

“A bone of an unburied one freely given.”

What this means is that she needs a bone of someone who hasn’t had a funeral, which means she can’t just buy one off of a donated body. Stupid old spells with stupid specific unwritten rules that make more sense or the time period it was written in and not modern day. She also can’t look for lost hikers in the woods because they can’t give consent to being in the spell.

But Tim could help! He’s never had a funeral, and he’s here to give his consent for using his bones! It’s a win win!

While the older Wayne’s were trying to figure out how the spell would work with some from if substitute Tim convinces Jason to come help him get something from his bedroom back in drake manor.

“So what are we grabbing baby bird?” Jason asks Tim

“You’ll see when we get there” Tim replies. He’s learned that he can’t convince people he’s dead. He learned that the hard way.

“Okay okay but why am I bringing a box again?”

“My boxes are all stained”

Tim brings Jason to his closet where he moves those old boxes out of the way.

“Baby bird what is this?” Jason asks a little freak out about the skeleton in the closet.

“The missing ingredient for cass’s spell!” Tim answers cheerfully.

“Tim, we can’t use this with out their permission, why do you have a corps in your closet?” Jason is freaking out that there’s a dead person in the baby bird’s closet and he doesn’t know how it got there.

“No im giving you permission to use it!”

“Tim you can’t give permission for someone else’s body”

“No! Jason you don’t understand! I’m giving you permission to use it!” Tim has frustration tears in his eyes.

That’s how Jason found out that his baby bird was dead, be the looks of it he’s been dead for a while.

“Now help me bring it to Cass?”

[loveswrites]

Pumpkins Please Billy Loomis x Stu Marcher x reader

Pumpkins Please Billy x Reader x Stu

Word count: 1397

Time it Took me: 1 hours 30 mins

To my loves: It was so obvious that stu and billy would win for our celebration of 300 followers! I wrote it that same night so I've had it in my drafts for 6 days now. I was thinking if I should wait till the poll ended but we reached over 300 followers before it even did, So here you go loves! Enjoy! Thank you for the support. It makes me so happy you guys enjoy my writing as it is all I want to do in life.

Love <3

“I wanna carve a pumpkin.” You pouted.

“Why don’t we just crave someone up instead.” Billy smirked playing with the tip of his knife. 

“I already have the pumpkins at my house. You wanna carve em here or there?” Stu said dropping himself on the bed making you and Billy shake with the bed. 

“You didn’t tell me you bought pumpkins.” Billy said, narrowing his eyes at Stu.

“Do I have to tell you everything?” Stu laughed out.

“Yes.” You and Billy said in unison. 

Stu started to laugh but slowly stopped when he realized you and Billy were not joking. 

“I just thought I should have them at the house since you know it is halloween. You know our favorite holiday.” Stu said, looking in between you and Billy.

“It’s not my favorite holiday mine is-”

“Christmas.” The two boys groaned, making you smile.

“The moment September 1st came along you were running around here yelling out ‘It’s christmas!’” Billy mocked you but you could see the slight smile in his cheeks as he recalled the memory. 

“It’s a lovely holiday, what can I say?” You smiled rubbing your socks together. 

Billy stroked the sides of your waist with his knife sending a shiver down your spine. He did this often. To both you and Stu. Still would often get cut most of the time cause he'd always laugh or move too much. But you trusted Billy to never leave a mark on you and he never did. Never has. 

Billy had three favorite things. His knives. His girl. And his best friend.

“Do we have to go to school tomorrow?” You questioned as Stu rubbed your legs while he stared up at the ceiling.

“You wanna skip again? Something on your mind, pretty girl?” Stu questioned. 

“Is someone bothering you? I can handle that, you know.” Billy said with stern eyes as he watched you respond.

“No no none of that I’m fine and no ones bothering me. I just don’t want to go and talk to people you know?” You said, stressed by the thought of even being in that building. 

“When do your parents get back in town?” Billy asked, putting his knife on your nightstand after taking one last long drag against your skin that sent tingles throughout your body.

Your parents had left for a business trip so you invited your two boyfriends to keep you company because why not? They weren’t doing anything before you called anyways.

“Sometime next week. It might get extended depending on some things. They told me I could go with them as always but I wanted to stay.” You said snuggling into Billy’s side.

“I would’ve left. No school and a free trip as a replacement sounds fun right about now.” Stu said, making you smile knowing that he wouldn’t just leave. He’d make sure that you and Billy were able to come as well. No matter if he wanted to admit it or not Stu couldn’t live without Billy nor you. 

Looking up at Billy who had his eyes closed you know he couldn’t live without you or Stu also. He wouldn’t admit it but he shows his love in crazy ways. Rather that’s spray painting the sides of buildings to pulling pranks on literally anybody to actual crimes. Billy has killed for you and Stu. If someone hurt one of you two you either never saw them again or saw them in the news the next day. Same if it was reversed with Stu but Stu doesn’t really clean his tracks very well so it’s mostly just Billy. 

You wondered if loving them made you a bad person. You wondered if keeping their victims a secret made you a murder. You wondered if not feeling a drop of remorse made it seem like you have the knife in your hand. 

But at the end of the day you didn’t really care because at the end of these dark sad thoughts all you saw was Billy and Stu. The two crazy boys who were in love with you. The two boys who showed you the world and would kill anyone who got in the way of your happy fairytale. You just prayed that they wouldn’t be the one to ruin your love story. 

You woke up the next morning feeling relaxed and refreshed. This made you just up and check the time. 1:24 pm. Shit you thought I missed damn near all of school. Rubbing your eyes you noticed that your bed was empty. Where did they go? Getting out of your bed you walked downstairs. Hearing voices, you followed them to the kitchen.

“Dumbass! the butter goes first, did you not read the box?” Billy snapped hitting Stu in the back of his head with said box. 

“You didn’t say that!” Stu said, trying to defend himself as he wiped his cheek leaving some flour in its place making you smile. 

“Maybe if you looked at the box I wouldn’t have to say it!” Billy fussed back. Stu opened his mouth to say something but that's when you decided to make yourself known.

“So are you two gonna bicker all day or tell me what you're doing?” You questioned walking fully into the kitchen.

“Baking you some cookies. Again..” Stu said, making you frown your eyebrows.

“Again?” You questioned.

“Stu burned the first batch.” Billy said, rolling his eyes.

“I did not! They just cooked a little bit longer than the rest.” Stu finished.

“Burnt.” You and Billy said in unison. That was happening a lot more often than usual. 

“We just wanted to do something nice for you before you woke up.” Stu said sneezing all over the batter when he rubbed flour on his face.

“What the fuck Stu!” Billy yelled while you just turned your nose up at the fact that he just sneezed on the batter.

“It’s fine. I’m not hungry. Like at all. I just wanna carve pumpkins okay? That’s it.” You said shifting your eyes between Billy and Stu.

“I’ll go get the pumpkins then.” Stu said starting to move, making you and Billy scream out ‘No!’.

“No! I’ll do it,  just stay here.” Billy said, shaking his head as he walked past you but not before giving you your ‘morning kiss’.

“You keep touching me I’m gonna throw pumpkin guts all over you.” You yelled out. Stu’s elbow kept touching yours as he attempted to show you how to carve your pumpkin.

“I’m trying to help you! You're doing it all wrong, trust me I do pumpkins.” Stu stated as if he was some kind of Pumpkin master.

“You do pumpkins?” You laughed out, tightening the grip on the knife in your hand.

“Shut up if I did you’d be jealous of the pumpkin.” Stu said, rolling his eyes. 

“As if, Who wants to sleep with you?” You questioned going back to cutting your pumpkin.

“You!” Stu said laughing as if that was the funniest thing in the world.

“Only on holidays.. Billy gets Monday through friday.” You said poking your tongue out at Stu to which he leaned in and bit your tongue making you jump back squealing in surprise. 

“Good thing Halloween is coming up.” Stu grinned. 

“Billy, he bit me!” You pointed at Stu with the knife in your hand. Billy pointed down to your pumpkin that was hanging on for dear life. 

“You need help, you keep cutting it like that there's not gonna be any pumpkin left.” Billy said, smirking, making Stu laugh.

“Shut up, it's perfectly fine.” You said going back to cutting pieces of the pumpkin.

“As if.” Stu snickered, earning a handful of pumpkin guts to the face.

“Hey!” Stu yelled out. 

“That’s what you get your lucky I didn’t throw the whole pumpkin!” You yelled.

“What pumpkin?!” Stu yelled back making you gasp.

“Billy!” You yelled.

“God.” Billy said, holding his head in his hands still with the knife in his hand. All he could hear was you two fighting with each other

He was in for a long bumpy ride if he wanted to be with you two forever. But watching the two of the most important people in his life bicker made him realize that he would kill any bump in that road to make them happy.  

[darklcy]

☆ 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧! 𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ☆

this has been in the drafts for a long, long time and i haven’t posted aot in a while, so enjoy :) | also i feel like some of these may be ooc but this was fun to write! just keep in mind this is how i think they’d act in a modern setting, ofc minus the war & trauma

attack on titan masterlist

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍

skips class to vape

smokes to thundercat & nirvana

flannels flannels flannels

naturally you steal them. acts coy when you do.

“you didn’t steal it, i just let you wear it and didn’t say anything when you went home with it.”

i feel like he’d be into meditating. idk why. like someone said he should do it so now he does a quick 5-min guided meditation every morning

showers with his chain on and gets green neck

doodles on his converse and yours

writes “hi :)” on your homework, journals, notes, etc during class

has a minecraft server w jean, connie and armin

claims he’s not scared of games like outlast or silent hill but everyone knows he’s lying

ends up hiding behind you in haunted houses

LOVES DRIVE THRUS/FAST FOOD. sonic & in n out specifically

toddler sense of humor, like finds things falling over funny (y’all remember the video of the piece of bread falling over-)

doesn’t know how to work pinterest

leans over people’s shoulders to look at their phones

tried getting his cartilage pierced but it got infected

has a few tattoos on his wrists and bicep

will bite you impulsively

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍

you mean my bf

so this boy DOES know how to work pinterest, and has so many boards

one of them is filled w future pets he wants & another one includes house ideas with you :3

is the best language learner and knows french, spanish, and german

can’t watch gory shows like squid game or the walking dead, but enjoys psychological horrors like black swan

has a billion playlists with like 6 songs each

your playlist is titled “lovey” bc i said so

has maybe one lobe piercing. but only one

he goes so hard to TV girl and mac demarco, but also loves singers like sza & jack stauber

LUVS SMOOTHIES

downloaded bumble only for the fun of it once but immediately deleted it when someone liked him

bounces his leg and picks his nails

best. skin. ever. has a good skin care regime

drives a silver toyota prius 

super into journaling & drawing :>

such a gentle bf, but lives for gossip

you text him, “you will NOT believe what i just heard.” and he drops everything he’s doing to respond

coffee dates!!!

you two have a stardew farm together with a dog and a bunch of chickens and cows

his favorite character is crobus

i love him very much

𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐀

hardcore alison from breakfast club vibes

secretly into girl kpop groups

but loves hardcore women, like björk & poppy

definitely owns a lot of platform shoes: has like three pairs of demonias

shaves her brows to draw them on 

loves online shopping from aliexpress & etsy

into weird chunky jewelry!! has a necklace with a heavy cat pendant & a pair of eyeball earrings

loves to do your makeup! if you don’t wear a lot daily, she’ll do something for special outings like concerts or even for fun she’ll ask you to let her do it :3

has a tiktok specifically for ootds

favorite foods include spicy ramen, mediterranean meals & ice cream

i feel like she’d be in art class! she’d draw you random portraits or cute versions of you two to put in her scrapbook

oh yeah i also feel like she’d have a scrapbook!!! and keeps a lot of mementos from your dates/hangouts

when you come over, you, her and eren play mario kart

no doubt a spiritual girly: maybe not super into spells but has a tarot deck and a few oracle decks as well as a beautiful incense burner

you two go to goth clubs cuz yeah

her lipstick gets on you all the time

dressed up as lydia deetz one year for halloween

makes rings and necklaces and gives them to you, and she debates on opening an etsy shop

— hope you enjoyed!

[broodparasitism]

Everything I've Learned About Querying from Talking to Agents (And Traditionally Published Authors)

Disclaimer: I'm UK based, as was everyone I spoke to. I didn't include any country specific advice, just what I think is applicable regardless of where you live, put it might be useful to know this is from a UK lens.

As part of my course I was able to go to a lot of talks with literary agents (a mixture of literary, genre and nonfiction) and I picked up a lot of useful information - a lot of it not quite so bleak as I feared! - and thought it might be helpful to compile it for anyone looking to query agents in the future, so, here goes, under the readmore:

Querying

Remember that agents want to find and publish new authors. They're not at odds with/out to get aspiring authors. They want to work with us. This is someone you're working with, so don't pick an agent you won't get along with.

Manuscripts should be queried when they are as close to finished you are able to manage. There are a few agents that are open to incomplete manuscripts, yes, but many more that flat-out refuse unfinished work. Manuscripts generally go through about ~15 rounds of edits before landing an agent.

Send query letters in batches - around five or six at a time. There is no limit to how many agents you can contact, but you can't contact more than one agent from the same agency, so make sure you've selected the most suitable one from each.

In most cases you can't submit the same manuscript to the same agent twice - so having it be as finished as possible is all the more vital.

Some of them will take a long time to respond. Some never respond at all. If it's been three months of nothing, it's safe to assume that's a rejection.

One agent said she took on about two new authors a year, which likely isn't true for them all but is probably a reasonable average. For all of them, the amount of queries they get can be in the three digits a week. I can't emphasis enough just how many they get. I take a lot of authors to mean that means it's a 0.001% chance and despair, but that assumes each manuscript has an equal chance, and they don't. Correct spelling and grammar, writing in a genre that appeals to the agent, quality sample chapters and respecting the submission guidelines (more on this later) improve the odds by a significiant amount.

One agent said he rejected about half of his submissions from the first page due to spelling and grammar mistakes and cliches, for perspective.

You'll need to pitch your book. If your book cannot be pitched in three sentences, that's a sign it has too much going on and you'll need to do some pruning.

Please don't panic if you cannot come up with an accurate pitch for your book on the fly - you're not supposed to be able to do that. A pitch takes many edits and drafts just like a manuscript.

Send your first three chapters and a synopsis (this should be a page, or two pages double spaced. It should not include every single plot point though, again, if major things end up not there at all, question if they're necessary for the manuscript).

Three chapters is the standard - as in, if the agent web page doesn't specify how many, that's what to opt for. If they say anything else, for the love of God listen. If there was a single piece of advice that the agents emphasised above all else, it was to just follow each submission requirement to a T.

There needs to be a strong hook in these chapters. If your manuscript is a bit of a slow burn, that's fine, but you can cheat a bit with a 'prologue' that's actually a very hook-y scene from later on.

Read the agent's bio page throughly and make a note of what they like, who they represent, and what they're looking for, and highlight this in the query letter.

Your query letter has to say a little about you. It doesn't have to be really personal information (but say if you're under 40, because that's rare for authors and they like that), and keep it professional but not stiff, they say. If you have any writing credentials, such as awards won or creative writing degrees, include them, as with any real life experiences that pertains to the content of your book. But no one will be rejected on the basis of not having had an interesting enough life.

Apparently one of the biggest mistakes for debut authors tend to be too many filler scenes.

In terms of looking for comparative titles, think about where you want your book to 'sit'. Often literally - go into bookstores and visualise where on the displays you could see it. It's really helpful if you can identify a specific marketing niche. Though you want to choose comparisons that sell well, but going for really obvious choices looks lazy. A TV or film comparison is fine - as long as it genuinely can be compared.

Do not call yourself the next Donna Tartt. Or JK Rowling. They are sick of this.

Don't trust agents who request exclusive submission.

Or any with a fee. Agents take a percentage of your advance/royalties - you never pay them directly.

In terms of trends (crowd booing), there's been a boom in uplifting, optimistic fiction, but more recently dark fiction has been rising in popularity and looks to have its moment. Fantasy and Gothic are both huge right now. Publishers also love what's called upmarket/book club fiction - books that toe the line between genre and literary.

But publishers aren't clairvoyant and writing to trends is a futile effort, so don't let them shape what you want to write. Some writing advice I got that I loved was to not even THINK about marketability until draft three or four.

If any agent requests your full manuscript - this is crucial - email every other agent you're waiting to hear back from and let them know. This will take your manuscript from the slush pile to the top, and you are more likely to get more offers of representation.

The agent that flatters you the most isn't necessarily the best. Be sure to ask them what their plan for the book is, and what publishers they're planning to send it to - you want them to have a precise vision. It might be that their vision misses the mark on what kind of book you wanted to write, and if so, they aren't the right agent for you.

Research like hell! A good place to start is finding out who represents authors you love (the acknowledgements pages are really helpful here). if you can, getting access to The Writer's and Artist's Yearbook is very helpful, as is The Bookseller, the lattr for checking up on specific agents. (I was warned the website search engine is awful, so google "[name] the Bookseller" to see what they've sold. That said, only the huge deals get reported, so it's not indicative of everyone they take on.

I also want to add Juliet Mushen's article on what makes a good query. I owe a lot to it, and I feel like it's a useful template!

Once Agented

Agents send a manuscript to about 18-25 publishers, typically. Most books will end up having more than one publisher interested.

It can be hard to move genres after publishing a debut novel, especially for book two, not only because it means it takes longer for you to establish yourself, but the agent that may be perfect for dealing with manuscripts for book one might not have the skills for book two.

Ask the agency/publisher about their translation rights, their rights to the US market, and film and TV rights. Ask also what time of year the book is going to come out, if being published.

It's less the book agents are interested in than it is you as an author. You will be asked what you're going to write next, so have an answer. Just an answer - you don't need another manuscript ready to go. One author said she flat-out made up a book idea on the spot, and she got away with it - just have an answer. (This is also useful to put on the query letter.)

Caveat that this is, of course, not a foolproof guide to getting a book deal, nor is it in any way unconditional endorsement of how the industry works - I just thought it would be useful to know.

[unmanageable-day]

Time with you

inspo : Kyuhyun - Time with you

pairing: best friend!Scoups x female reader

genre: angsty almost friends to lovers, unrequited love aka friendzoned :(

word count: 2k-ish

warning(s): drinking alcohol (and maybe none other than that)

a/n: not really grammatically checked. i’m just emptying my drafts lmao this has been in my draft for a very long time. would greatly appreciate your feedback and thoughts! :-) also, the gif credit to the rightful owner (@ scoupsy)

It was another night when you and your best friend, Choi Seungcheol drank your lives away while going through the so-called quarter-life crisis. You with the story of ‘almost’ for the nth time. Almost getting promotion in your job, almost dating with guy A, almost being match-made with guy B, almost picking up a fight with a coworker (which means almost losing your job), and the most recent ‘almost’ was you almost getting back together with an ex who you didn’t like that much. Seungcheol and his much higher alcohol tolerance had drank more bottles than you. He just broke up after five years of relationship, and he couldn’t even cry his eyes out. Not to mention, he just lost a sponsorship for his new project. Isn’t it a perfect night for these best friends to abuse their livers?

“I say let’s just get married if by 30 years old we don’t have a significant other,” he said, his eyes were looking anywhere but you.

You chuckled. “You’re drunk, honey.” He didn’t sound serious or sincere to you, at least now after he sipped three shots in a row.

Both of you were turning 26. Old enough to get married, some people would say. You never gave it a deep thought, especially since most of your friends hadn’t gotten married either. They were either too enjoying their lives, too busy with their jobs, not wanting to be in a committed relationship yet, or they just want to go solo. Let’s be honest, having that one person to spend with for the rest of your life doesn’t always mean a happily ever after ending. On the other hand, you know being married and raising a small family with children is one of Choi Seungcheol’s dreams. You would absolutely be happy for him if it came true any sooner.

He chuckled while pouring beer and soju mix. “I know, but I think I’m sober enough to discuss this thing. What do you say?”

“Even if I agree and say yes right now, you will probably not remember anything tomorrow.”

“Hey, I said I’m sober enough,“ he scoffed as he raised his glass. “Y/N let me tell you, I might look unserious like this, but you have no idea I have tons of husband material.”

“Well, okay I guess, if you want to be my husband that much..” you shrugged, still laughing lightly at the nonsense you two were having that night. And finally Seungcheol knocked himself out that you had to call Jeonghan and Mingyu to pick him up.

The next day, Seungcheol insisted he did remember almost everything he said last night. You still didn’t think of it seriously, so you just responded with a quick ‘yeah’, ‘right’, and ‘okay’. Meanwhile he wanted to have proper documentation about your “agreement”. As you thought it was ridiculous, you just gave him a pinky swear and you excused yourself to go to a company dinner.

---

27th birthday

There was nothing special. Both you and your dear friend were single, and in fact, enjoyed going solo. Your circle of friends tried again to make you go to blind dates. You did, just for a little appreciation to your friends, although you knew it’s just not going to happen. Same thing with Seungcheol’s friend who always offered him to introduce some juniors from their college or school. This time, Seungcheol always refused. Not ready to build rapport and start a new relationship would be his number one excuse, which would always be understood by others.

28th birthday

Your friends started to cheer that you and Seungcheol should end your friendship and begin a real romantic relationship because you two were always seen together.

“Are you nuts?” You chuckled and pretended to give a disgusted expression to him.

“Don’t come to me when it’s apocalypse and I’m the only man left,” he hissed.

29th birthday --- Seungcheol’s POV

Lately I had been feeling anxious and I can’t comprehend what was wrong. But isn’t it normal for people to be anxious when they’re about to end their 20s? Or is it just me who had been denial about this real, like real, adulting phase?

Without realizing it, I often found myself imagining what the future would be like if it is with you; what would it be like to spend the rest of my life with you. I remember the times we walked together. Well, many times. But when did you become such a precious person to me?

The picture of us being together for a lifetime was getting clearer. Somehow I became so sure about it. That’s when I know, I want to live as your significant other. I want to live with you who never stop nagging but I won’t complain. Even when you’re a worse picky-eater than me, more suck at doing house chores and cooking, disorganized, and sometimes talk in your sleep, but I think I can live with that.

I had never so anxious and thrilled at the same time on my birthday in the past 3 years. I didn’t know why I had to wait until it was our 30th birthday.

A few days to 30th birthday

Seungcheol had been walking around back and forth in his studio for minutes. Once in a while, he looked at the calendar and a ring with flower diamond accent sitting on a personalized leather ring box he put on his desk. He just turned 30 last month and Jeonghan, without being asked, held a birthday party for him. This month you would be turning 30 and he already marked it in his calendar with a lot of drawing.

It was counting days until your birthday. As far as he could remember, not even once you or anybody else had said a word about you seeing someone. He was certain of it. This is it.

He quickly went through a list of restaurants to make a reservation on that Friday night. Let’s not go overboard, he thought to himself as he passed some fine dining restaurants from the list. His final choice was a new sushi restaurant. Okay, it’s not anything fancy, he reassured himself. He didn’t want to make it obvious although he couldn’t hide his excitement and his racing heart.

Just as the sun had set, Seungcheol dialed your number. Unusually, you picked up in less than five seconds.

“Y/n, hi! I’ve got something to tell you!”

“Me too!”

“Great! Let’s meet up?”

After hanging up the phone call, with his dreamy eyes, Seungcheol stared at the ring he chose carefully. Right, I’m gonna do it today! In front of a big mirror, he spent a good amount of time just to pick an outfit that he usually wears.

He arrived first at the restaurant and took his time to practice breathing slowly. As soon as he received your text that you were coming soon, he became restless. The lines he had been practicing in his head now started to blur. Please don't ruin it, he begged to himself.

“Hey. You sound very excited on the phone. Did something good happen?” Trying to manage his cool, he welcomed you and poured a glass of water.

Smiling ear to ear, you nodded vigorously. Seungcheol softly smiled looking at you.

Without words, you lifted your hand, exposing the back of your hand, all your fingers lightly wriggling. For a second, Seungcheol didn’t notice what you were trying to say. Until he remembered that you didn’t like to wear accessories and jewelry with too much accents standing out, including a diamond or even gemstone with bright colors. Yet a silver ring with a cat’s eye gemstone now was stuck prettily around your left ring finger.

Seungcheol forced an innocent smile at you. He shook his head a few times, pretending not to understand anything. Deep down inside, he wished it was not what he was thinking. He wished it was just another piece of jewelry you bought for yourself.

“I’m getting married! Jisoo proposed to me last night!” you squealed as quietly as possible.

“Jisoo.. which Jisoo?” he asked weakly after clearing his throat several times.

“It’s Hong Jisoo! You didn't forget him already, did you?” Your eyes widened and blinked twice. “It’s Jeonghan’s friend. He even came to your birthday party. You even hung out together, the three of you.”

He groggily faked a laugh. “Oh, we did?” He stole a glance at you who were staring lovingly at the new ring. “... am I too late?” he whispered to himself, his hand clenching the suede box hidden in his pocket.

“Hm? What is it that’s too late?” you asked, completely oblivious.

A fake cough slipped out of his mouth. He wore his famous sulky expression. “No, I mean... isn’t it too late that you just told me now? You should have called me last night.” Seungcheol knew sulking was one of his famous traits. And this time, it helped so much to hide his true feelings.

“Wait. But… how did you… since when did you and he…” Seungcheol found himself unable to finish his sentence. It’s not like he really wanted to know or anything. He was too dumbfounded to figure out that after all this time, it was only him who had been thinking about the future of you both. Apparently it was just a one-sided excitement that only he felt.

“Sorry,” you muttered slowly. “You must have thought that this doesn’t make any sense.” You tried to read his expression. Seeing him gulping his water, you did the same before telling your story.

You carefully told him that it started last year, specifically on the new years’ eve when Jeonghan held a party in his house. Seungcheol was there too. What he didn’t know was that you and Jisoo spent some time together after losing a game, which led to going to a convenience mart just to buy candies because Jeonghan suddenly wanted it. You found him very easy going despite his serious and quiet look. Not to mention when he lost it in games with Jeonghan, he became somebody else–and you liked it. He didn’t seem pretentious. He was even never trying hard to look good despite he had that gentleman image. It was interesting to see such different personalities in one person.

You didn’t want to think about him seriously as a romantic relationship was not your priority that time. Jisoo probably thought alike, since he never really made a bold move. Yet you two would always find time, or rather time (and Jeonghan) was in favor of getting you together. Nonetheless, both of you still never declared anything. It started like a situationship, you would say.

Until one day, he wanted to make sure that you both shared the same feelings. Since then, Jisoo and you started to discuss your plan for the future. But again, your relationship hadn’t gone public.

“We didn’t tell anyone until we were sure of ourselves and our plans,” you concluded. “I’m really sorry, Seungcheol. I never meant to keep a secret from you, especially when it comes to something big like this.”

Another forced smile was curved on Seungcheol’s lips. “It’s okay. I understand,” he said, trying as hard as he could so his voice wasn’t trembling. “I’m happy for you, Y/n.”

You wore a big smile and looked relieved. “Thank you. Sincerely, Seungcheol, thank you.”

He flashed a smile before pretending to be busy looking at the menu. “Since today is a happy day, we should celebrate it,” he cheered.

“You’re right. It’s on me.”

In the end, he let you choose all the dishes from appetizer until desserts. It was difficult for him to stay focused. The ring in his pocket felt as heavy as his heart, but he knew he shouldn’t show it to you. He didn’t want to ruin the precious friendship you’d had for only God knows. He didn’t want to be remembered as someone petty who couldn’t support his best friend’s choice. He didn’t want you to hate him, and possibly leave him if he started to act out crazy.

[thewritingofspencerrose]

I know, it's (VERY, im so sorry) delayed, this has been sitting in my drafts since the day his trade was announced and i just got around to finishing it up. enjoy!

"Jamie," Is all I can think to respond to my brothers words. "I can't just move to Pennsylvania, you know that. I have three more years left of schooling."

You were supposed to have 3 more years on your contract, I want to add, but I know that's not what he needs right now. He was just traded away from his home with no warning, he doesn't need his little sister giving him a hard time.

"I know, trust me I know. I was so focused on getting my deal with the Ducks because of that. But some kid that was supposed to go to Philly had a change of plans and now I have to be on a plane there from Nashville at 5 in the morning."

"You don't even get to play against the Predators?" I ask, not realizing just how sudden this was all about to happen. "Do you need me to send you things? God I didn't realize this would all be so sudden."

"Kid, let's worry about what I need in a minute, I need to talk to you about you, the apartment, all of that." Oh shit. I can't afford this place. "I talked to Trevor, and he and I think you should move in with him."

"You... what?"

"I-"

"No, I heard you," I interrupt, not even letting him get two words in. "Why on earth is that your first thought? Let me have my sister move out of the apartment we've been living in and in with my best friend? Didn't Trevor literally move out because he wanted more space?"

"I know, and he knows that, but you're my little sister, I don't like the idea of you just finding some random roommate. And Trev promised that he'd look after you," Jamie explains, and I don't want to give him more grief than necessary today of all days, "I just need to know you're being looked after if I'm going to be on the east coast."

"Have you already talked to Trevor about this?"

"He offered."

Oh fuck me.

"Oh, woah," Are the first words out of Trevor's mouth when he walks in the door, two weeks and change after Jamie's move. After my moving in.

"I promise I tried not to touch anything, I just-"

"No, I told you that you should make yourself at home," He reminds, dropping his gear by the door. "It's just, I don't know, feels more homey in here than when I left."

"It's probably because you got so used to living with me and JD that seeing my things around reminds you," I offer, trying to ignore the way he's looking at me like the entire reason this place feels like home is me. "Speaking of my brother, when you offered this little deal to him did you happen to mention that you'd been sleeping with said little sister for months before you moved out?"

I probably should have seen what he was doing when he started to distance himself from me and should have realized I had gotten too attached when it hurt for him to do so.

And I had been doing fine with getting over him until JD had this fantastic idea.

Now he's here, his look shifting from admiration to shock.

"Why- why would I tell Jimmy that?"

"You're basically boyfriends, I would have thought you'd tell him about your torrid affair," I can't help the joke slipping, only earning myself an eye roll as he throws himself on the couch, landing by my feet and making the book on my lap nearly fall to the floor.

"You and everyone else need to stop thinking that we're boyfriends, you know better than any of us that I am not into guys," He returns, pointing at me like he's trying to prove his point.

Now I'm the one rolling my eyes. "Trev, the whole world knows you're into women, have you not seen the photos of you and that D'Amelio sister around? You're hot gossip on the internet."

I hate it.

"Oh God," He groans, head falling in his hands, and it's not the joking one I'm expecting, but genuine discomfort.

"Trev? You okay?" I'm already moving before I've finished asking, my book set aside as I move to his side, hand coming to caress the back of his neck, where his shaggy hair meets his hoodie.

I can't help but take a moment to hesitate, knowing that if he is with her like the tabloids say, I'm far too close to a gray area than I should be.

But it's Trevor. He helped JD move me into their apartment, after agreeing to me living with them in the first place.

He's always been there for me as long as JD and he have known each other, and I have always done my best to be there for him.

"It's the God damn media," is his whispered answer, shoulders slumping. "I can't be seen with a girl without being assumed to be with her, you know?"

"I can't say that I do," It's honest. Also very unhelpful. "You're sitting with the boring Drysdale, I have as much experience with the media as being photographed with you and JD."

His eyes rise up, looking at me for only a second before he's looking back down at his hands, ringing them. "You're not boring, Kate."

"You know what I mean-"

"No," He interrupts, eyes jumping up again, this time remaining on me. "You're not boring, you're normal in the best way. Why do you think I ended things?"

What?

"You deserve normal."

My hand stills on his neck, slowly sliding across his shoulder until it's back in my lap. "Trevor, what are you talking about? If this is because things aren't working with her and I'm suddenly around-"

"I was never with her!" He's yelling, moving to stand in the time it takes me to process his words and turning back on me, eyes wild. "We were in that photo because a mutual friend had a birthday and everyone ran with it!"

"Trev, you don't have to explain your dating life to me," I sound almost desperate, desperate in my desire to not hear about the women he's seen since our last night. My voice is the one who gets quiet now, "I'd really rather you not."

"You're not listening to me," Trev is nearly grunting, pausing to sit on the coffee table in front of my legs. "I haven't been seeing anyone else, it's why the photos piss me off. They have you thinking I'm out sleeping around," His hands rest on my knees, thumbs gently running over them. "You're not someone a person can just move on from, Kate."

"Trevor, you can't do this to me," There's that desperate tone again. "You broke off our arrangement. I was ready to become more and you were the one who said we'd have to just be friends, that I had to go back to being your best friend's little sister."

His thumbs dig in momentarily, the only thought coming to mind being when he last did that, hands slowly guiding my legs apart and -

No!

"Do you not know how much I've regretted every word of what I said?" He looks so genuine. He's Trev, of course he's being genuine.

"What made you change your mind?"

"The idea that you'd be moving to Philadelphia," There's no hesitation.

And I can't help but laugh. "Trevor Zegras, I have one year left of my undergrad and two of my masters. You can't have thought I'd really be uprooting my life," a smile comes back to his face for the first time since he walked in to see me on the couch.

"Are you laughing at me?" Is his falsely offended cry, making me laugh even harder. "How dare you!" His hands find my sides immediately, fingers moving in sync to tickle where he knows I'll feel it most.

His body has moved onto mine, my breathe leaving my lungs faster than they can refill as I wiggle.

"Trev! Trev! Get off of me, you goon!" He just smiles, propping himself up on his arms enough to pop back into a sitting position.

It's so soft, the look in his eyes.

"Give me another chance, please?" That's why he looks so soft.

He's scared.

But I am too. This has gotten more complicated than before.

"Trevor... this has gotten so much more complicated-"

"How?"

"What?" How could he possibly be asking how this could be more complicated.

He's smirking now. "It's actually less complicated. We're still roommates and I still want to be with you, only difference is your brother isn't on the other side of the door, keeping us quiet."

He's not wrong.

Now it's my turn to smile. "If we try this again, we're a couple. No casual sex."

"Deal," His smile is brighter than the lights at the stadium. "My terms were the same."

"And-"

"And? You want a kiss?" He supplies, and while it's not at all what I was going to say, I'm going to let him have this one.

So I nod.

He leans in.

And when our lips touch, it doesn't matter that he's my brother's best friend, or that I'm his best friend's little sister.

We're home.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

save your tears

Joel Miller x f!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 18 - too weak to move | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 1.1k

summary: What would have happened if you went with Joel and Ellie instead of staying in Jackson?

-- I cheated a little for this one but this is an alternate universe scene from "you know you never stood a chance" (spoiler warning). BUT this can be read as a standalone.

warnings: established situationship, canon-compliant-ish, canon-typical violence, description of wound, description of bodily fluids related to a wound, realistic thoughts about a survival situation, hunting and eating of animals

dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: this is what I call the silver lake alternate version. in my very early draft of the story, you did not stay in jackson. you got mad at Joel for abandoning Ellie and went to the stables in the morning, planning to go with Ellie and Tommy. The rest of the events happened as per canon. However, as I was writing this scene, it became quickly apparent that it was the wrong narrative choice. but just for fun, here's a snippet after Joel is wounded. (stay tuned in the end notes for the one single David line I wrote).

“You can’t shoot,” Ellie says. She won’t look at you. It’s not mean; it’s just another way you’re failing them. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be back,” she promises. 

You hate this. But there’s no time for self-loathing. What you can do instead is boil snow. 

You creep up to the main level of the house. When you’re sure it’s clear, you crawl through, trying to stay out of sight through any windows. You’re able to scrounge up a few containers of dubious origin and cleanliness but better than your two canteens. 

You light a fire in an old ration tin and prop a steel mixing bowl (the best find of the lot) on top. The first round of snow goes to scrubbing out the containers with an unfortunately large sliver from your bar of soap. 

It’s a loss, but you can’t risk putting dirty water on Joel’s wound. 

Once you have one clean bowl of water, you set another to boil and pull back his shirt and bandages. 

It’s bad. You know it, Ellie knows it, Joel knows it. But you have to try. You have to, or all three of you are dead. 

Well. Maybe not Ellie. She’s tough and capable. Maybe she could make it back to Tommy without you slowing her down. 

You have nothing remotely sterile, so you mentally set aside the next bowl of water for cleaning a scrap of fabric. For now, you try to flush the wound with a slow stream of warm water. 

You’ve been talking to him quietly, explaining to him what you were doing, though his consciousness is dubious at best today. But when you start to pour, his eyes snap open, and his hand flashes out to squeeze at the bones of your wrist. 

“Joel, it’s me, it’s just me,” you say quickly. His grip is grinding, and things are not going to be helped by a broken wrist. And you know it never really healed right, that breaking it a second time would mean it possibly never working the same again. You try not to panic. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper, and he seems to finally recognize you. His fingers loosen, but don’t let go. 

“I’m just trying to help,” you say. You feel like the basement is getting smaller, darker, like it might swallow you up. Someone is breathing shakily, and you’re humiliated to find out it’s you. 

His thumb rubs against your pulse for a moment. “Take Ellie and go,” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking. 

Instead of responding, you bring the canteen up to his mouth and let a little water drip into his mouth. His eyes close for a moment. 

He purses his lips too soon, a tiny shake to his head. 

“It’s okay, I’m boiling more, please drink.”

But he’s already passing back out. You reach up and stroke your fingers through his hair. It’s damp with sweat despite the crystalline spread of ice inside the windowpanes. 

Sweat is good, right? It means his body is burning the infection. At least, you think so. 

You pause to switch the water so you can get a clean rag. Maybe when Ellie gets back, you can try to ransack the other houses for anything of use. 

You wait until you have a full slate of clean water before you drink any. When it hits your tongue, you think you might cry. Pacing yourself is so hard. 

He wakes up again when you try to clean the wound with the fabric you’d torn from your ragged t-shirt. Every breath draws bile you have to swallow again and again, a fruitless endeavor that ends with you scrambling to throw up outside, terrified of introducing any other contaminants to his environment. 

When you scrub at the wound, he’s awake enough to struggle with the pain but not awake enough to be aware of what’s happening. So he tries to move away, to fight you off. 

It’s worth it, you tell yourself over and over. You’re able to get some of the dirt away with some soap, and some of the pus flows, but not enough. You don’t put pressure on it, afraid to push the infection deeper. 

The skin around his stitches is puffy, red, and oozing. Dread settles deep. You’re probably going to need to cut them and clean the wound. But not now; you can’t force yourself to at this moment. Plus, you might need Ellie to help in case he tries to fight it. 

Instead, you use a clean corner of the rag to wipe dirt from his face and another to try and drip a little more water into his mouth. Suppressing a sob, you press your lips to the burning skin of his forehead. 

Ellie comes back a few hours later and a few rabbits richer. She’s skinned and prepped them when she comes inside, and you set to boiling the meat and bones. 

The two of you eat the meat, and you spend the rest of the evening trying to drip broth into Joel’s mouth. 

It turns into a rhythm. Joel doesn’t get worse, but he doesn’t get better. Sometimes, he wakes and tries to convince you to leave again, to take Ellie and abandon him. Neither of you are very tolerant of his arguments. 

Once, when you’re alone, he seems a little lucid. Ellie is out checking traps, and you’re sitting helplessly next to Joel, sniffling. You’ve got squirrel boiling in the little can fire, but it takes a long time, leaving you with little to do but wait. 

“Why’re ya cryin’, sweetheart?” His voice cracks from disuse, and he tries to clear his throat. 

You’re up on your knees with the canteen to his lips in an instant. He drinks a little and swats it away, reaching a shaky hand to cup your cheek and brush away a tear with his thumb. 

“I know y’ain’t cryin’ over me,” he scolds. 

It only makes you cry harder, though you scramble to choke it back. You peel his hand from you, holding it for a moment in both of yours before giving it a gentle squeeze and placing it back on the mattress. 

“Let me get you some broth,” you mumble, wiping your eyes on your dusty sleeves. 

He lets you feed him a little. 

“C’mere,” he says when you’ve reluctantly stowed the broth. He tugs you to his uninjured side, and you have to squeeze your eyes tight as you gently curl to him. “Remember when you used to be a good girl and do whatever I’d tell ya?”

“We’re not leaving you, Joel.” You’re so tired of this conversation. Actually, you realize as his heat seeps through your clothes, you’re just so tired. 

“Even though I was gonna leave you?”

“Shit, you’re right,” you say and watch exasperatedly as he has the nerve to look a little hopeful. “You nearly leavin’ me behind in the safest place you know is the same thing as leavin’ you to rot in a random filthy basement.”

“Stubborn brat,” he grumbles before he falls back into a fitful sleep.

BONUS — The one line I wrote for a scene with David:

“something rude,” says David.

*title from "Save Your Tears" by The Weeknd

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Eleven: Once Bitten

Gates Of Hell Masterlist

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: swearing, violence, horror, family issues

[A/N: Okay, I lied when I said this would be the last chapter because I hated the first draft and decided to alter everything so now we get some extra time with our favourite enemies to... we'll see ;)]

Once Bitten

April 3rd, 1985 Morning of The Apocalypse

The alarm startled you, heart racing as you reach over and smack it silent.

You had been led down staring at the ceiling for a while now, waking up earlier than you intended to. That faceless thing was in your nightmares again, grey claws ripping into you before you woke up in a fit of sweat. You didn’t cry this time. That was promising.

The ‘support group’ Hopper was sending you to wasn’t helping anything. They expected you to talk about drugs, an addiction you apparently had two years ago, so that they could treat you like a project. You only attended because you were sick of feeling crazy. Hopper didn’t believe you. Hell, you didn’t believe you.

It took all of 20 minutes to get ready, stuffing your backpack with textbooks you’d be ignoring. But you had to look the part, to convince your father that you were trying.

As you slip out of your room, the familiar smell of Eggos filled the air. El pretty much refused to eat anything else for breakfast.

“Y/n.” El’s small voice calls out, her now shoulder-length hair swinging as she peels her eyes away from the TV.

“Hey.” You smile, dropping your bag and joining her on the couch. “You seem cheery.”

“Uh-huh.” She nods and you notice she has her hands behind her back. “Hopper got me a present.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow, amused. El was an easy kid to please, but she looked much more excited than she has before.

“Do you wanna see?” She asks and you laugh.

“Obviously.”

Another smile and she brings her hands around towards you, curling them into fists and stretching out her arms. You laugh again at her actions, shaking your head.

“What am I meant to-” You begin before your voice catches in your throat. Something blue was staring back at you, adding salt to an ever-growing wound consuming you. “Is that…”

“Hopper’s band.” El says as if she’s repeating it from practice, fiddling with it. “He said I was important. I’m going to take good care of it.”

Tears were already pooling in your eyes before you had even assessed the situation. Your little sister’s hairband now wrapped around the wrist of a girl you had only met a year ago. The last remaining part of your sister given to a stranger she’d never known. Hopper gave El something so important to you like it was nothing.

“Okay, I’m heading out soon.” Hopper announces as he steps out of the bathroom, fixing his hat. It was the only room with a mirror, a luxury if you woke up early enough. “Y/n, you ready to go?”

You don’t respond and he turns to where you and El sit together, frowning.

“Y/n?”

“How could you?” You whisper out and El looks up surprised. Looking into her eyes, you take a deep breath before forcing a smile. “Hey, could you go to my room for a little bit? I wanna talk to Hopper. You can go through my comics again.”

He tenses at the mention of his name rather than ‘dad’, but you ignore it.

“Okay.” El nods hesitantly, slipping off the couch and disappearing to her room. You should have waited for the click of the door closing, but you were unaware she’d be following the rules; leave the door open three inches at all times.

“Did you give El the hair band?” You stand up to face him and shoulders relax, taking a breath. It looked like he was expecting this conversation, running a hand down his face as he takes a step towards you.

“I did.” He admits softly, meeting your eyes.

“Why?” You shake your head slowly with blurry vision. “Why would you do that?”

“Because she’s our family now.” He starts, frowning in attempt to think through his words. Hopper had never been good at expressing how he felt. “It felt right.”

“It felt right?” You repeat, struggling to not raise your voice. There was an indescribable pain building in your chest that made you want to scream, to cry and sob until it washed away. “Replacing Sara feels right?”

Hopper’s face falls. “I’m not replacing her.”

“I sure feels like it.” The first tear slips down and you angrily wipe it away, letting your hand point to your bedroom door. “You can’t just treat her like a second chance!”

“I’m not.” He says calmly, too calm for your liking. “Let’s just take a breath.”

“Do not tell me I’m crazy.” You warn, voice cracking and destroying your attempt at steadiness. “Ever since you brought her here, it’s like you completely forgot Sara ever existed!”

“I can never forget.” He raises his voice now, ever so slightly to ensure you knew he was serious. “I think about her every single day. But we can’t just keep holding onto the past-”

“She wasn’t some kind of pet, she was real! Family!” You cry, stepping forward with a frown. “She was my sister, your daughter, and you’re just throwing her away! That hair band is all we have left!”

“And now it is safe!” He shouts before exhaling. He turns around to recollect himself, speaking softly. “Do you know how long it has taken me to look at it with anything but guilt? Sara… her memory can now be protected by someone that deserves it.”

“A stranger?! El didn’t know her!” You sob. It was uncontrollable now, your rage. It came from a darker place, one you hadn’t visited in a while. It was frightening to know you could feel this kind of fury. “What about me?! Am I not worthy enough to take care of my sister?”

“That’s not-” He turns back around, holding a hand out before pulling away with it in a fist. “We can’t talk about this while you’re…”

“Acting up?” You scoff. You needed to get out of here, clear your mind. It felt like there was this weight pushing harder and harder on your lungs. If you stood here any longer, you were afraid you would be crushed completely.

So, you march straight over to your bag, slipping it onto one shoulder and pushing past Hopper.

“Hey!” He calls out as you make it to the door, angrily snapping open the multiple locks Hopper had installed. “Don’t walk away!”

As your trembling fingers catch the last metal rig, you rest your head against the door.

“If you wanted a new family, you should’ve said so.” You say lowly, refusing to face him. When he doesn’t speak, you slide the last barrier and hear the familiar click as you turn the doorknob.

“We both lost her, Y/n.”

Just as you pull the door open, you’re frozen. He sounded tired, broken. Like he was done fighting with you this time.

“I know we haven’t spoken about it.” He continues, his voice hoarse. You could hear his boots clumping against the ground as he slowly tries to close the distance. “But I’m here-”

“Don’t bother.” You interrupt, turning around. Tears were staining your cheeks. You never truly met his eyes, fixated on the bridge of his nose because you knew if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to win this argument. Why did you care about winning?

“You’ve been nothing but a- a shit father to me ever since she died! Like you don’t even like me!” You yell, hoping it’ll keep him away from you. He looks a little startled, but he doesn’t speak a word. And then those fears are rising to the surface, slipping out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Sometimes I wonder if you wish it were me that died instead.”

It was like his heart was visibly shattering, dawning his expression with pain. “Y/n-”

“I’m leaving.” You cut him off, swinging open the door and stepping outside, unable to resist turning around just one last time. “I’m glad you’ve finally found a daughter you can love.”

And with that, you slam the door shut, moving through the maze of the alarm system like second nature. You expected to hear the door open again, the thump of wooden floorboards beneath a sorry father’s weight, the familiar shout of forgiveness carrying in the wind.

It stayed silent, as quiet as the tears that dripped down your cheeks. He wasn’t coming after you this time. You’d finally won.

But what did you really win?

Steve visibly buffers as his eyes keep darting between you and Billy. He hated how you smiled at eachother like you were passing secret notes with your eyes. He hated it so much he couldn’t resist blurting out the first thing in his mind.

“How do you know eachother?” Steve questions, a frown permanently staining his delicate features as his eyes flicker between you and Billy. It was unsettling. More than unsettling. Worlds colliding in a heaping pile of flames.

“Oh, we go way back.” Billy replies suggestively, smirking at how uncomfortable Steve looked. “What’s the matter, Harrington? Not expecting that?”

Your worn expression of unamused proportions flickers between the two as they inch closer. Steve looked like he wanted to throw a punch, whilst Billy looked intentionally smug about it.

“I sense I’ve missed something.” You decide, looking to Robin as she threw a dirty look to the boy clad in denim. “Okay, calm down, no one’s trying to kill eachother.”

“That’s not what happened last time.” Steve spat, still glaring at Billy. Your eyes widen.

“Huh?” You prompt, a flash of unrecognisable guilt in Billy’s features before he’s smirking again.

“Old times.” Billy’s vague answer doesn’t settle the bubble of anxiety you feel in your stomach.

“Why are you here?” Robin glares and your brows shoot up. You knew she didn’t like him but you didn’t expect the scowl on her face to hold such anger.

“That lot was practically dragging Max out the house.” He nods in the direction of the Party, their heads lowered as they share in a hushed discussion, completely oblivious to the older kids. “Didn’t have enough room in the chief’s car so I drove us here.”

“I didn’t see your car.” You frown and he purses his lips.

“It… blew up.”

Steve snorts, not even trying to hide it.

“Damn monsters.” Billy throws a pointed glare before returning back to you. “I actually volunteered to go down to the flippity thing.”

“Upside down.” Robin scoffs, crossing her arms like she had more knowledge of the situation than the blonde boy in front of her.

“Whatever.” He dismisses, resting a hand on his hip. He smirks at you. “Figured I got nothing better to do.”

Steve couldn’t have rolled his eyes harder. Here Billy was, acting like this mission he probably heard about two minutes ago was merely an errand to run. He could try all he wanted, he would never be the hero he’s pretending to be. Never.

“Okay, listen up.”

Hopper strides back into the room, glancing to you with a smile which you feebly return, wanting to curl up in a ball. You still felt embarrassed about your outburst.

“Joyce and I are gonna come up with a plan. We need to work on both sides here, someone manning communications while others help El try and find this… thing we’re looking for. Nothing can go wrong here.” He addresses the whole room, a few nods on determined faces. “If Y/n’s right, and something else is out there controlling these gates, we’ll put an end to this for good.”

And if she’s wrong, she’s going to put everyone in danger they don’t deserve, you think, tightening your lips.

“Mike, Lucas, I’ll need a quick count on provisions. I don’t want us being in there any longer than a few hours but we need to be prepared.” He instructs, the two boys determinedly running off to carry out their duties. “Dustin make sure those radios are ready and fully charged.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Dustin salutes, swiping some batteries from the table before sauntering off into the next room.

“Will, Max, we’ll need at least two backpacks.” Hopper suggests and they nod, sending a quick look to eachother and disappearing into the sleeping quarters.

“As for now, Nancy I need you here so we can strategise.” He says and the girl looks confident as she walks up to the table, peering at the worn map covering the wooden inches. Hopper glances up. “You too, Billy.”

“I guess I’ll catch you later.” Billy winks at you, suddenly adopting a whole new persona as he respectively smiles at Hopper when joining the planning circle, even going as far as shaking his hand. Steve frowns. It’s weird. Very weird.

Robin sounds a hum and you turn to look at her. “Well. Since we got out of homework, what say we go relax-”

“Can you guys go on patrol?” Jonathan’s voice interrupts and you all glance over to where he was walking over, still pressing an ice pack to his head. “I’m meant to be doing it now with Nancy but she’s busy and I’m…”

“Concussed?” You tilt your head as he smiles weakly. “Been there. Of course we will.”

“Thanks.” He sighs gratefully, sending a reassuring nod to Joyce as her worried eyes follow him around the room.

“Great.” Robin claps her hand, smiling up at you both. “You guys have fun.”

“Wha-” You pout as she tries to walk away, your arm immediately reaching out and pulling her back. “Nuh-uh, you’re coming with me.”

“Do I have to?” She whines and you send her a look, one she’s only ever seen when you’re desperately needing an alibi. “Jeez, fine, whatever. Who doesn’t love the thrill of potentially getting your face ripped off in the morning?”

“That’s a… vivid image.” Steve twists his face in a grimace as you drop your shoulders. Robin is already surveying the weapons table when he leans closer to you. “She doesn’t have to come with us. I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Um…” You take a look at her, circling through all the different responses in your head. “No, I… I want her to come with us. If this apocalypse doesn’t end anytime soon, I just want her to know how to protect herself, maybe be a little more confident.”

Steve frowns as he watches you walk over to Robin, seemingly explaining which items would prove best in a fight. He felt a little twinge of disappointment when you didn’t want to go with him alone. After that talk, you opening up to him about something so personal, he assumed… he wasn’t sure what he was assuming.

“Wanna tell me why I’m your get out of jail free card?” Robin raises her brow and your lips tighten, reaching for a heavy knife and inspecting it. “Woah, okay, don’t tell me, message received.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, putting it back down. “I just want to help you be a little less scared, that’s all. We need to be prepared.”

“Uh-huh.” She sounds unconvinced, hand hovering over a pistol but you simply shake your head and she grabs the next item on the table. “The hell is this?”

You look down and widen your eyes. “Oh, Robs, be careful, that’s a-”

Her finger accidentally settles on a trigger and a jolt of electricity crackles loudly, a little too close to your hand and you jump back. It falls from her hand as she yelps, looking like a child that had been caught playing with their mother’s makeup. She notices the concerned looks from her peers in the room.

“My bad.” She raises her hand apologetically before reaching down at carefully picking the taser back up. She looks to you with a grimace. “Did I get you?”

“No, Robs. You get me, you fry me alive.” You breathe out, checking your hand. “Maybe we should teach you how to use that.”

“Perfect time, right?” Steve comments, leaning past you for his bat and you try to ignore how your heart rate increases when he’s close to you. “As long as you don’t tase us or yourself, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, give the clumsiest girl on the planet electricity, what could go wrong?” She expresses, but she takes the taser and turns her back to stomp her way up the stairs.

Steve can’t help but laugh, hand on his hip. “It should be interesting.”

When you don’t respond, he looks down at you just in time to see you look away, clearing your throat.

“Uh, yeah. Totally. We should, uh, we should follow.” You blurt out, swiping the knife and nodding. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” He says with a suspicious smile, amused at the way you’re avoiding his eyes. What were you hiding?

“Y/n.” Hopper calls out, ending a conversation with Joyce with a gentle pat of her shoulder and walking over to you, extending his hand to show you his keys. “The tank needs filling up, there should be some gas by the door.”

“Got it.” You smile, taking his keys, but he doesn’t bid farewell. “Anything else?”

“Just…” He sighs, frowning. “You shouldn’t have any problems, but the minute something is wrong- even just feels off-”

“We’ll be fine, dad.” You reassure, his lips flickering beneath his moustache at a name he hadn’t heard in a while.

“I know you will, kid.” He says as you jingle the keys and stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie, walking up the stairs to find Robin.

Steve goes to follow until a hand is on his shoulder, redirecting him back to Hopper’s stare.

“Don’t let anything happen to her.” His words aren’t a warning, rather a plea. Steve nods.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Steve nods, and he meant every word.

“So, why am I your Steve buffer?” Robin asks, practically jumping out behind you when you reached the next landing.

“Fuck, where did you come from?” You hold your hand to your heart, taking a breath.

“You. Harrington.” She narrows her eyes and you roll your own. “Don’t think I didn’t pick up on what’s going on here.”

“Yeah, just like you picked up on Miss Click’s secret affair with Dan Shelter?” You point out, her lips tightening.

“That was the only time I have ever been wrong.” She defends, crossing her arms. “It’s not like it hurt anybody.”

You scrunch up your face. “She almost got fired.”

“But she didn’t.”

“Yeah, because I took the blame so you wouldn’t get in trouble.” You remind her and she relaxes her shoulders, looking a little guilty. “Hey, not your fault, I wanted to do that.”

“You got detention because of me.” She said a little quietly and you let out a chuckle.

“Robs, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that was like two years ago-”

“Not then.” Robin corrects and your face drops. “If you hadn’t… if I just… you would have been okay. And you wouldn’t have had to survive the apocalypse with a guy you can’t stand to be around.”

“That wasn’t your fault.” You step forward, frowning. “It was mine. I… I wanted to get detention. That whole thing just gave me a reason to.”

“Who wanted detention?” Steve’s voice interrupts and you both stay silent, causing him to purse his lips. “Oh-kay, girl talk, huh? I get it.”

Robin stares at him in disbelief and you suppress a smile. Fuck. This was getting harder than you thought.

The reason you wanted Robin here wasn’t because you wanted her to be. It was true, giving her the skills to protect herself was going to be worthwhile, but part of you just wanted to keep her bundled up in bubble wrap, safely hidden away. You’re just afraid that if you go with Steve alone, you’ll do something you’ll regret. Something you promised your past self would never happen.

A stubborn promise slowly being shattered by Steve’s warm smile.

The walls around you were pale, much like the brightness of the bulbs hanging above your head. Your nerves were alight, waiting for them to begin flickering madly, stopping everything and everyone around you, the black dust…

None of it made sense. It wasn’t possible. Alternate dimension? Sure. Monsters? Yeah, why not. But freezing time? No. No way.

And yet, it happened.

You weren’t ready to talk about it yet, though. Not that you were sure anyone would believe you. It took Hopper to actually experience it before he believed you had almost been attacked. In fact, the only person you wanted to talk to was currently trailing behind you in a one-sided conversation with your chatty best friend. He seemed a little more open minded. Never called you crazy, genuinely wanted to listen. But you couldn’t talk to Steve right now. Not while you were having trouble looking anywhere but his eyes and lips.

So, instead, you lead Steve and Robin through the maze of harsh lighting, the soft drone of Robin’s voice muffled by your thoughts fighting to not recall the grinning monster that had thrown you into that wall, or dragged you through a pool of blood on the floor.

Behind you, Steve couldn’t resist the concerned gaze he had on the back of your head as you led them through eerie corridors, never stopping, barely looking at them. He knew you must be spiralling about everything that has been happening. He sees what it’s doing to you. The smart quips forced out of your mouth to stop you from thinking, that pause you always seem to have before striking a smile as if even your brain was struggling to hide emotion. He notices that wobble in your lip you catch between your teeth, any and every reason to stop yourself from admitting you’re not okay.

Steve can’t believe he knows all of these things. Four days ago he wouldn’t have even cared.

“I get why a person would hate Billy Hargrove. I mean… it’s Billy Hargrove.” Robin says, the only part of her rambling Steve finally managed to tune in to. She had a habit of cutting the awkward silence with a conversation even more awkward. Her speciality, really. “But why do you hate Billy? It’s not weird high school boy testosterone reasons, right?”

“No.” Steve sighs, finding the humour in her way with words. Robin felt like someone he wished he had as a friend, an easy talker. She always spoke her mind, regardless of the situation. She made him feel like he could say anything and she wouldn’t bat an eye. Well, maybe not anything. She’s made it pretty clear that she would do anything for you.

“Then what?” She scrunches her face. “You seriously looked like you were gonna murder him. So I have to assume you both had some sort of fight. Unless it’s for different reasons. Maybe Y/n told you about- but that doesn’t equate to holding yourself back from manslaughter-”

“What are you talking about?” Steve couldn’t help the chuckle escaping his lips. He takes a quick glance to where you trail in front, completely oblivious. “Y/n didn’t tell me she knew Billy.”

“Oh, right.” She nods, snapping her fingers. “I forget. You guys are mortal enemies or whatever.”

He chose not to respond to that statement. “What’s their deal anyway? They seem…”

“Chummy?” She suggests, groaning. “Ugh, barely. She seems to like him, though. No matter how many times I tell her she’s a poor judge of character, she just doesn’t seem to listen.”

“Like him? Like… like him?” Steve frowns and Robin grimaces.

“As if.” She says and he has to prohibit the breath of relief from sounding into the hallway. “They were partnered for a project way back. Pretty much spent almost every day together for two weeks before he stood her up and never talked to her. She kept calling but, alas, no response.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s an asshole who just uses women.” Robin comments with spite, “What other reason would there be?”

“So… he used her?” His face scrunches as Robin sighs.

“No. God, no, they had… I don’t know, a moment or something, but she’s too smart to be pining after him.” She explains, waving her hand in the air as she spoke. “Y/n would never let anyone take advantage of her again.”

“Hm.” Steve nods, staring at his shoes as they softly squeak against the floors. You seem completely not phased as you swing the gas can around absent-mindedly in your hand and he wonders if you’re too caught up in your own thoughts. You and Billy? It was as if the universe catches wind of his desires and throws a bullet hole in them. “Wait. Again.”

“What?” Robin looks up like she had already forgotten the conversation.

“You said again. Someone taking advantage of her again.”

The blood drains from her face. Steve can’t help but stop, causing her to stop with him. She looked somewhat mortified as she sends a panicked look your way. Thankfully, you really weren’t paying attention to them.

“No I didn’t.” She says plainly and he almost laughed.

“Robin.”

“No.” She shakes her head profusely. “I said… ag-ing. Ageing. Yes.”

“Ageing?” He cocks a brow. “You said that she wouldn’t let someone take advantage of her ageing?”

“She is ageing very beautifully.” She coughs and he narrows his eyes.

“Robin.”

“No.” She hold up her hand and steps back. “I will not be succumbed by your Jedi mind tricks.”

“Jed-what?”

“It’s not my business.” She states with a serious stare, tightening her lips. Her voice is a whisper, afraid of the echoing walls. “I… I don’t know when to shut up sometimes. Maybe I’m just trying to trick everyone into thinking I’m not constantly living in fear, but I will literally talk until someone stops me. And most of the time I don’t think before I speak. Like now, I- I have no idea what’s gonna come out my mouth and the next thing I know I’ve revealed something that isn’t even my business to be sharing in the first place.

“But-”

“Y/n is my best friend. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s my only friend and I don’t know what I’d do without her so please. Please. Just forget I said anything. I can’t lose her just because I can’t keep my mouth shut.”

If it weren’t for the overhead lights, Steve would never have noticed the glimmering tears pooling in her eyes. He knew she really meant what she said. She looked terrified. And Steve wasn’t going to be the person to ruin what Robin obviously cherishes most.

“Any chance they have some real food when we get back?” He finally speaks and she raises her head in surprise. “I’m starving.”

“I’m pretty sure all they’re gonna have is nutty bars.” Robin comments, flashing a small smile of appreciation. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought.

“Hey?”

They both whip their heads to where you stand at the end of the hallway, frowning. While you hadn’t been focusing on them, once the noise of their conversation had lowered you had taken notice.

“You guys good?” You ask and Robin steps forward, patting Steve’s back.

“Oh yeah, we’re peachy.” She grins, “Practically besties now.”

“Don’t say besties.” Steve shudders and you tilt your head in disbelief.

“Really?” Your eyebrow raises and you decide you really didn’t need to spend energy on this. “Whatever, let’s get outside before it gets dark.”

With no objections, a few short steps later lead you stepping over a pile of broken glass, looking up at the foreboding red sky. It would have been a pretty sight if you hadn’t of known what caused it.

“The sun’s setting pretty fast.” Steve announces, brows pinched. “Let’s get this ride filled up and get the hell out of here.”

“Amen.” Robin shivers, the cool crisp of air hitting the back of her neck that remained uncovered from that impulsive haircut.

You’re already at Hopper’s police car, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia when you look at it, as if it hasn’t only been three days. But it’s different this time, because you honestly couldn’t say you were ever going to see this car again. Thinking of the worst will only heighten your anxiety, but expecting disappointment saved you from those harsh realities hitting any harder than they should.

“How long is this gonna take?” Robin whispers out, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s cold and I’d like to be back inside with all the other nice, shiny weapons.”

“Almost done, Robs.” You sigh, discarding the empty can and picking up the second from the ground. “There might be a blanket in the backseat if you really need it.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll survive.” She shakes her head, bouncing on her feet by shifting back and forth between each foot.

When Steve finally had enough, he rolls his eyes and slides his jacket off, holding it out to her. Robin’s eyes are wide as she silently accepts it. Anything was better than the sharp air she stood in. It was April, for god’s sakes, and here she was, shivering like she was trapped in an ice cube.

“Thanks.” She mumbles and Steve hums. She looks up to see he was distracted, eyes unwavering. Her first thought was that he was keeping an eye out, but when she followed his gaze she realised it was rather keeping an eye on. Which on the scale of normal to ‘hey, look, an apocalypse’, it was weird.

“Unbelievable.” Robin mutters to herself.

“Huh?” Steve finally tears his eyes away from you to see Robin looking up at him with a scowl. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You know what you did.” She glares, folding her arms and hugging herself tighter.

“I can honestly say, I don’t.” He blinks and her lips tighten.

“You do anything to ruin it, anything at all… I will hurt you.” She warns and Steve physically recoils.

“Did I get another concussion and forget about it?” He frowns, “What-”

“Okay, all set.” You announce, dumping the final can and turning with a smile. “Let’s get back inside- Robs, why do you look like that?”

“See?” Steve expresses, clicking his tongue, “I don’t know, she’s-”

When Steve turns to Robin, all he sees is a pale face and wide eyes, the complete opposite of the look she had given him seconds ago. He felt his arm hairs raise like soldiers on a field of goosebumps, prickling in the ice-cold of her terror.

“We have to get inside.” She whispers, voice cracking.

Everything felt dead silent, your heart rate beating your ear drums and you slowly turn your head to glance over your shoulder.

A pair of eyes lock onto you, masked behind the blood dripping from the mouth of what once used to be a person, now turned monster. She looked about your age, wearing jeans and a hoodie, much like the clothes currently clinging to your body. Except she looked at you with hunger, a sliced mouth ripping apart her skin into four sections. But that wasn’t the part that made your insides twist.

You found another pair of eyes. And another. And another. And another. A sea of dead, endless eyes, all looking at you like they were angry, like they held a deep and dark grudge against your very existence. Your breath didn’t hitch. It simply couldn’t when you couldn’t even breathe.

Her dead eyes were looking straight through you, and you couldn’t do anything for her – all that blood. You couldn’t -There was so much blood.

They all looked like corpses with agility, the concerning wait as they hunger for their food, but never attacking. They looked like an army.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” Steve curses, muttering under his breath as he cycled through the ideas of escape swarming in his eyes. The three of you couldn’t fight them off. There were so many, he was sure he lost count. And they were here. Why were they here?

“Why is no one counting to three?” Robin asks in a panic and you both look at her with silent confusion. “Usually someone is counting to three whenever we have to run away from literal death. Someone needs to count to three right now or I’m gonna freak-”

“Okay, okay, just calm down.” You hiss, grabbing her hand and she tightens her lips. You look up to Steve, “We counting to three?”

“I don’t see any other option.” He whispers back, chest rising heavily. He watches the indecision flash behind your eyes as you struggle.

“One.” You eventually say and Robin stands a little straighter, nodding as she turns herself towards her end destination.

“Two.” She replies, just as quiet as she shook. She wasn’t cold anymore.

Steve meets your eyes with a frown, his gaze flickering between you and the angry mob of monsters in the distance. You seemed prepared, desperate. For a moment, he really thought he wouldn’t say anything, too afraid that you’ll pull your usual self-sacrifice. So, he reaches out and grabs your hand, your eyes widening ever so slightly at the touch, but he wasn’t about to let you repeat past mistakes.

“Three.” He finally breathes, and then it’s a rush of motion.

You’re all taking off, sneakers tracking up mud as you sprint across the grass. Robin was slightly ahead, gripping the taser tightly in a fist. You had Steve’s hand to hold on to instead, feeling him tug you along every so often.

He finally drops your hand when you reach the lab, fully aware of the singular gap of shattered glass you all had to jump through. You feel the familiar crunch beneath your feet, risking a rushed look over your shoulder before you come to a complete stop, frowning with heavy breaths.

They hadn’t moved. Not one turned monster had tried to catch their prey. They were simply… watching.

There was a tug on your hand again and you stumble back into a run, feeling Steve’s resolute fingers intertwining with yours the entire time you weave through the hallways, back to that familiar bunker door, even all the way down those echoing metal steps until you were back in a room of safety.

Heads whip your way when Steve eventually releases your hand, using his to run it through his hair as he took in deep breaths.

Robin was a little more dishevelled, dropping herself to the ground to lay on her back.

“I… am… never… doing… that… again.” She managed to sound out, squeezing her eyes shut with a hand over her heart.

You try to suck the oxygen back into your body as you lean against a wall, earning a cocked brow from the mullet wearing boy at the centre table.

“Quiet night?” He jokes, but your serious expression changed his tone immediately. “What happened?”

“Monsters.” Robin gasps, finally sitting up. “I fucking hate monsters.”

“What happened?” Hopper repeats, pushing away from the table and walking over to you with a concerned frown etched between his brows. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine.” You nod quickly and he lets out a sigh of relief. “The chevy’s all fired up.”

You toss him the keys and he snatches them out of the air with one swift fist.

“What did you-”

“Y/n?”

You feel your body stiffen as the sweet and quiet voice calling out to you. For just a moment, you could have sworn it was Sara.

You peer around Hopper to find El pushing out of the group in the corner, her face breaking into a smile and before you know it, she’s ran up and wrapped her arms around you.

“I missed you.” She states, voice muffled by your hoodie.

Tears prick at your eyes as you rest your head on hers, embracing her like she might slip away from you. “I missed you, too.”

“Awwww.” Dustin coos, looking like he might cry, too.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Lucas pats his back, a crack in his voice as he dons the same emotional expression.

“Men.” Max rolls her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips all the same.

“When did you wake up?” You ask softly, pushing her away only enough to see her face. Her curly hair was a bit of a mess, dark circles under her eyes.

“A while ago.” She responds, glancing at Hopper. “Hopper needed to talk to me.”

Hopper’s warm smile quickly dropped as he clears his throat, nodding.

“It’s about the plan.” He explains in its simplest term, meaning that he didn’t want you to know all of it, at least not until he had spoken to El first.

“Yeah, okay.” You force a smile, finally letting her go. “We’ll talk later.”

She beams up at you as she follows Hopper out of the room and into the adjoining one. You watch them start to talk behind the glass, like you were observing a secret conversation you’d never be a part of.

“You guys gonna tell us what the hell happened to you, then?” Max raises a brow, shrugging when people look at her as if to say ‘really?’. “What? I’m just asking what we’re all thinking.”

“We had a run in with a hoard of people.” Steve sighs, rubbing his temple as he sets his bat back on the table, returning his hand to his hip. “Well, not really people.”

“Weird mutant people.” Robin corrected and Steve nods, pointing at her.

“Demopeople.” Dustin whispers out and Steve does a double take.

“Really? Demopeople?”

“You got another name you wanna share with the class?” Dustin spits and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Sorry if I just think we could be a little more creative here. Demogorgon. Demodogs. Demopeople. It’s just getting a little repetitive.”

Dustin stares at him with a deadpan look. Steve doesn’t take the hint.

“What’s next. Demobirds? Demobats? Demohippos-”

“We get it, Steve!” Dustin stresses and Steve just pulls a face.

“God, why are they like that?” Robin shivers as the image reawakens in her mind.

“We think it could be a virus.” Mike announced, so casually as if it was a conversation about dinner.

“Virus?” You ask, feeling a little startled by his suggestion.

“Don’t worry, none of us have it.” Dustin pats your back and Steve hides a smirk when you slowly push his hand away.

“Why do you think it’s a virus?” You persist as a shiver ran down your spine. You wrap your arms around you to mask the sudden feeling to your friends. They didn’t seem to take any notice.

“You guys seen them before?” Steve asks, glancing at you when he sees you jolt, trying to cover it up.

“A few.” Nancy replies this time, and the others nod in accordance. “A lot of people in town were like that.”

Their faces said everything they didn’t. You know because you’ve had that expression, the dawning realisation that the person trying to kill you wasn’t really a person anymore.

“Mr Holloway?”

His wild eyes suddenly darted upwards, staring at you.

Then, he pounces.

He’s snarling as he claws at your jumper, pulling you down to the ground with him. In haste you try and push him off of you, but this man was a lot bigger than you, wrapping his hands around your throat and smashing your head into the cold ground.

Struggling against his weight, he rears his head closer to you.

“Stop!” You try, his tightening grip on your neck releasing the word as a strained whisper.

“But how did they get it?” Robin questions and Will looks up from where he had been staring down at his hands.

“An infection.” He says quietly. “All of those people… they were bitten.”

“By the Demogorgons?” Steve’s eyes are wide with mild terror and curiosity.

“And the demodogs. Maybe.” Lucas adds.

“Whatever it is, it’s not getting in here. Now come on, we have work to do.” Joyce reminds them gently and the boys collectively sigh before trailing over to where Max was already sat.

Steve watches as she bats away Dustin’s hands, his pout when Max won’t give him the radio. It was strange to see how normal everyone was reacting to this whole situation, even the indication that any one of them could be infected with a virus that could turn them into monsters, no, zombies. But that normality was probably the only thing keeping everyone sane right now.

Could there really be some kind of virus? It made sense, people with the mouths of the very creatures that had attacked them. But surely that was barbaric. No way was the Upside Down going to be that creepy.

“What a load of bullshit, right? A virus?” He scoffs out a laugh, hoping you’ll laugh too and set his mind at ease. He wants you to agree that it is all a lie, that there wasn’t something else out there to be afraid of.

But when he looks over at you, your face has fallen, and you look ill.

“Y/n?” He whispers out and you clear your throat.

“Huh? Sorry, I’m… tired. I think I’m gonna grab some sleep.” You nod, eyes directed at him but not really looking. It was like you were in a haze, accompanied by a concerned look on Robin’s face.

“You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t really sleep last night so… so I should try.” You say a little airily, convincing yourself more than them.

“Do you want me to-”

“No.” You cut Robin off with a smile, already heading to the door. “No, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

You pushed through the doors and left them stood there, exchanging glances of worry.

“She’s not okay.” Steve states and Robin almost rolls her eyes.

“No shit, Sherlock.” She mumbles, talking again before he could retaliate, “Maybe she’s just scared? I mean her dad is about to go on a suicide mission down into a place crawling with all kinds of chomping virus monsters. I’d be pretty god damn terrified too.”

“Yeah.” Steve agrees, but he was lying. Something felt wrong. He’s been there when you’ve been through something traumatic, and right now he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look more phased in the last three days than you did just then.

You lower yourself into the sleeping bag in the far corner. It looked untouched, all the others spare from two were covered in various trinkets, creased from use. You figured the two at the very back were made up for you and Steve. When you settle on the ground, you notice a familiar black and bulky material, a bag you hadn’t seen since detention. The one Hopper found when he tried to look for life in a building surrounded by dead bodies.

Hopper. Your dad. Why weren’t you reacting more to this? You had fought, screamed, cried when he suggested he’d be going. And now he’s officially heading there, and you feel numb. Maybe too much has happened for your brain to take notice of how fucked up everything really was. Or it could be because you had more pressing matters to occupy your brain storage.

It could be a virus.

A load of bullshit, right?

An infection.

Your hands shake as you reach down with your eyes squeezed shut, painfully rolling up your jean leg that had seen better days.

When you open them, you’re staring down at a torn piece of fabric wrapped around your ankle, a single tear trickling down your cheek. You strip away the bandage and choke back a gasp.

Small little puncture wounds wrapped across your skin, like teeth marks. And there were black veins too, snaking across your flesh, creeping up your leg.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Twelve: Down The Rabbit Hole ->

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