#Jonathan's real protective for the people he cares for | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-winter-spider · 2 months ago

Text

The Archer | Steve Harrington

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Angst, fluff.

A/N: Found this in my drafts loo enjoy

----

You’ve never been the kind of person people stay for.

Your parents taught you that early on, love is temporary, conditional, fleeting. Your father left when you were nine. Your mother stayed, but she never really wanted to. She was always looking for an out, always halfway gone. You liked it better that way at first being alone, not truly having anyone so when they left it didn’t hurt as much, it was just another no one coming in and out of your lives. You learned that people only stick around until they find something better.

So you made sure to never need anyone. You let people in just enough to keep them close, but not enough for them to see you. You laughed when you were supposed to, played the part of the girl who was fine, always fine, even when you weren’t.

Because if you let people see what’s underneath, if you let them know how broken you really are, they leave and that’s why Steve Harrington is the worst thing that ever happened to you.

Because he sees you, even when you try to hide, even when you deflect and brush him off, even when you keep him at arm’s length…he still sees you.

And y’know what's worse? He stays. You don’t know what to do with that, because Steve is not supposed to stay. No one ever does and that’s why you don’t let yourself believe this could be real.

Because if you do? If you let yourself reach for him, if you let yourself want him the way you already do….you might lose the only person who’s ever tried to love you anyway.

Steve doesn’t know when he started noticing you like that.

You were always there. First in the way all Hawkins kids inevitably are, crossing paths in school hallways and at parties. Then through Nancy, through Jonathan, through all the bullshit with the Upside Down. You weren’t just another face in the crowd. You were watching, always sharp-edged, always standing on the outside like you were waiting for something to go wrong. Because well everything always did. But Starcourt happened and after that, you stopped just watching.

But no matter how close you got, there was always a wall.

That stupid, beautiful, impenetrable wall.

Steve tried to climb it. He tried again and again, reaching, pushing, pressing against the cracks, but you never let him in and man, it was frustrating because he knew you were holding something back.

It was in the way your eyes flickered when conversations veered too close to the truth. The way your laugh got a little too loud when someone asked how you were doing. The way you kept people just close enough to feel real but never close enough to matter.

Steve didn’t know why he kept trying, maybe because he saw himself in you. Maybe because he knew what it was like to be left behind, maybe because he cared more for you then he ever intended, maybe it was because his feelings for you were overwhelming and that was the problem. Because the more he cared, the more you pulled away.

You were right there but you weren’t, something just out of reach. Something like fear in your eyes whenever the conversation got too real, whenever Steve tried to lean in past whatever self-protective armor you had wrapped so tightly around yourself.

It’s late when he finally calls you out on it. Robin and Dustin had already passed out on the couch, snoring softly under a tangle of blankets. The TV flickers in the background, playing some terrible late-night infomercial neither of you are paying attention to.

You’re in the kitchen, sitting on the counter, legs dangling, spinning a spoon absently between your fingers. Steve is standing across from you, arms crossed, leaning against the fridge like he’s working up to something.

He exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You glance up at him, startled by the sudden weight in his voice. You try to play it off with a small, teasing smirk. “I do talk to you.”

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. “Not about the things that matter.”

Something flickers across your face, too fast for him to catch, but not fast enough to completely hide.

“Not everything has to matter, Steve.”

He watches you for a second, really watches you, and it frustrates the hell out of him, the way you do this. The way you let him in just enough to keep him close, but never enough to let him have you.

“Yeah, it kinda does.”

Your fingers are still against the metal spoon. “Why?”

Steve lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Because I feel like I’m talking to a version of you that only exists on the surface. Like there’s this whole other part of you, and I’m just—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanna know you for real.”

Your stomach twists. “You do know me.”

Steve’s jaw clenches. He takes a slow step forward, voice softer now, more careful. “Do I?”

You swallow, shifting uncomfortably. “Why are you pushing this?”

“Because I—” He exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face, suddenly looking so fucking tired. “Because I care, okay? Because I keep trying to get close to you, and every time I do, it’s like you—”

He stops himself, shaking his head.

You feel something in your chest tighten, something sharp and dangerous.

“Like I what?” you challenge, voice quieter now.

Steve meets your gaze, and for the first time in a long time, you can’t read him. “Like you’re afraid of letting me in.”

The air between you goes thick and still. Your fingers tighten around the spoon, the metal cold against your skin. You should say something, laugh it off, shrug..change the subject, run.

But you don’t, you don’t know how.

Steve watches you, waiting, hoping you’ll finally let him in.

You take a breath, force a smirk, flick the spoon between your fingers. Deflect, deflect, deflect. “And here I thought you just liked the chase, Harrington.”

His face falls. Disappointment flickers through his eyes, just for a second before he masks it with a sigh. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend this is some kind of game.”

Your stomach twists violently.

“Steve—”

“Forget it.” His voice is tired now, frustrated, resigned. He pushes off the fridge, shaking his head. “You’re not gonna let me in. You never do, it doesn't matter.”

You watch him walk away, and for one fleeting second, you almost call him back. But then the moment is gone and so is he.

---

It happened in small moments. All the almosts. Little cracks in the armor, fleeting glimpses of something real before you slammed the door shut again.

Like the time you were sitting in his car after a shift at Family Video, both of you were too lazy to go inside. You had the windows rolled down, music playing low, the humid summer air wrapping around you like a second skin.

“You ever feel like this town is just… waiting to swallow you whole?” Steve asked, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

You had gone still. Not laughing it off, not dodging. Just silent.

“Yeah,” you had murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Steve had turned to look at you. “Yeah?” he echoed, like he wasn’t expecting you to agree.

You hesitated and for just a second, he saw something in your eyes. Something unguarded, raw, real. But then you blinked, shook your head, and it was gone.

“Never mind,” you had said quickly, forcing a smirk. “I think that was just your deep poetic soul talking, Harrington.”

He sighed, tilting his head back against the seat. “You’re exhausting, you know that?”

“And yet, you still hang out with me.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I do.”

Or the time you had been walking back from the arcade with Max, Steve trailing behind.

It had been one of those perfect summer nights, warm but not suffocating, the cicadas humming in the distance. Max had been rambling about some stupid bet she had with Lucas, and you had been laughing, head tilted back, eyes bright in the glow of the streetlights.

And Steve, well he had been watching you something he found himself doing for a while now. Noticing the way you seemed lighter when you weren’t thinking too hard. The way you let yourself exist without overanalyzing it.

He had leaned in, bumped his shoulder against yours, and said, “You should let yourself be happy more often.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he saw it. The way you stiffened. The way your smile faltered, the way your fingers curled into fists at your sides. He didn’t mean it the way he realized after how it sounded, he meant it like you should smile more. It was the more beautiful thing he ever saw, and that you should laugh more because man, it was music to his ears.

“I am happy.”

Steve stopped walking. “No, you’re not.”

You turned to face him, eyes dark and guarded. “What the hell do you know about it?”

“I see you.” The air between you had stretched thin, tight as a wire. Max had awkwardly cleared her throat, clearly wanting to be anywhere else.

“You don’t see shit, Harrington,” you had muttered before walking ahead.

Steve let you go.

But then came the night you slipped and this time you couldn’t take it back, it was real, too real.

It had been a rough day. Too much Hawkins, too much silence, too much weight pressing down on your ribs. You had snapped at Robin, ignored Dustin’s calls, spent the whole day pretending you were fine until it nearly cracked you in half.

So you did what you always did, you went to Steve. Not because you meant to talk but because he made it easy to exist.

Steve never asked for more than you were willing to give or at least you thought he didn’t.

You had climbed into his passenger seat without a word, legs pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped around yourself.

Steve didn’t ask why you were there, he just drove.

Out of Hawkins, past the flickering streetlights, past the places that felt too full of memories. He parked at some random spot near the woods, turned off the car, and just waited.

You could feel him watching you, could feel him waiting for you to speak and for a while, you didn’t.

Then you did. “I don’t think I know how to be loved.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, the second they left your mouth, your breath caught in your throat, panic clawing up your ribs. Shit. Shit. You weren’t supposed to say that.

Steve, who had gone completely still.

Steve, whose face didn’t change, whose hands didn’t move, whose voice didn’t tremble when he said, “Why would you think that?”

You had shaken your head quickly, fingers curling into your sleeves. “I…forget it. I didn’t mean—”

“Hey.” His voice was gentle but firm.

Steve reached out, carefully….slowly. Giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t, his fingers found yours, warm and steady, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“You don’t have to know how,” he murmured. “You just have to let someone try.” His fingers softly rubbed your hand. “And believe me someone will.”

That was the moment you realized he wasn’t going to leave, that Steve Harrington had been choosing you this whole time and maybe you could choose him back.

---

The sun is setting by the time Steve pulls the car into the gravel lot at the park. The air is thick with summer heat, the smell of grass and pavement still warm from the afternoon.

Robin is complaining loudly about having to be here, Dustin is talking way too fast, Max is rolling her eyes at something Lucas said, and you… you’re laughing. Like, really laughing, Steve’s known you long enough to know the difference.

There’s the laugh you use when someone expects it from you, quick, practiced, sharp at the edges like you don’t actually feel it.

There’s the one you use when you’re dodging something, louder than necessary, exaggerated, filling in the gaps so no one realizes you’re avoiding something real.

And then there’s this one, light, unrestrained..real.

You’re on the swings with El, kicking your feet, trying to get higher, grinning over at her like you’re daring her to catch up. Max is watching, smirking, shouting something about how she can go higher than both of you. Dustin and Lucas are arguing about whether this counts as a real competition.

Steve leans against the car, arms crossed, watching you.

Robin nudges his side. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not..” He stops, scowling when she raises an eyebrow. “Shut up.”

Robin snorts, looking at you again. You’re still laughing, still smiling, still unguarded in a way you never are. “You should tell her, you know.”

“Tell her what?”

Robin scoffs, shoving his shoulder. “That you’re in love with her, dumbass.”

Steve rolls his eyes, muttering something about how she’s so annoying, but he doesn’t actually deny it.

Because, yeah…maybe he is.

It happens fast. One second, you’re happy.

Genuine, effortless, real.

Then something shifts.

Steve doesn’t know what triggers it. Maybe it’s the way the sun catches on the trees just right, and the shadows look off. Maybe it’s the sound of the cicadas humming in the background. Maybe it’s nothing at all.

But he sees it, because you're all he sees. Your laughter falters. The way your eyes flicker with something heavy, distant, haunted.

The way your shoulders tense, like you’re suddenly remembering where you are, who you are, what you’ve been through.

It’s gone almost instantly. Your mask snaps back into place, and you’re smiling again, laughing again, playing along like nothing happened.

But Steve sees it, he sees all of it. That’s when it happens. That’s when he realizes he’s in love with you, truly in love with you. Because he doesn’t just love the version of you that you let everyone see.

He doesn’t just love the girl who makes fun of him, teases him, kicks his feet off counters.

He loves the whole thing.

The girl who smiles like she means it but sometimes doesn’t.

The girl who holds everything so tightly inside herself because she’s too scared to let anyone else carry the weight.

The girl who is so good at pretending she’s okay, she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it anymore.

“You good?” Steve’s voice is soft, meant just for you.

You blink at him, startled, like you weren’t expecting anyone to notice, like you weren’t expecting him to notice.

That kills him a little because he's done nothing but show you he sees you, he notices you.

But instead of answering, you plaster on that same damn smirk and say, “You worried about me, Steve?”

Steve, he doesn’t buy it. Not even a little. But he lets you have it. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t go falling off that swing and breaking something, okay?”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitches, just slightly.

Steve just knows. That someday, he’s going to get past those walls. Someday, you’re going to let him in and when you do? He’ll be right there. He’ll always be here.

----

It’s late. Too late for someone to be knocking on his door.

Steve is already awake, though. He hadn’t fallen asleep, not really. He had just been lying there, staring at the ceiling, stuck in that awful in-between place where his body was exhausted but his mind wouldn’t shut off.

He wasn’t expecting anyone. But the second he hears the knock, sharp, urgent, desperate his heart kicks up.

Because what if it’s one of the kids? What if it’s Dustin? Max? Lucas? What if something happened? What if it's back? What if it's something worse?

He yanks the door open without thinking and it’s you.

Standing there, arms wrapped around yourself, tears streaked down your face, chest rising and falling like you ran all the way here.

Steve feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest. “Jesus, what happened?” His voice is urgent, rough, and panicked.

You just shake your head, breathing uneven. “I—” Your voice catches, like you can’t get the words out, like if you say them, they’ll be real.

“Hey, hey, come here.” Steve doesn’t even hesitate.

He grabs you, yanks you inside, pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms tight around you like he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on hard enough.

You collapse into him, fists gripping the fabric of his t-shirt, burying your face into his shoulder.

“You’re okay,” Steve murmurs, his lips against your hair, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back. “I’ve got you. Whatever it is, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

You shake your head against him, breath hitching. “I, I had this dream, and it felt so real—”

Steve stills. “What kind of dream?”

You swallow hard. Your whole body trembles. “You were gone, y-you died and it got you, I just it was so real..”

Steve feels something deep in his chest fracture. You grip him tighter, like you need to physically make sure he’s here, that he’s solid, that he’s real.

“You were just..” Your voice shakes. “I don’t know, I just, I woke up and I couldn’t breathe, and I had this awful feeling and I had to make sure—” You stop, your voice breaks. “I just had to see you.”

Steve doesn’t say anything.

He just pulls you even closer. “I’m here.” His voice is softer now, steadier, full of something heavy and unspoken. “I’m right here and I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

You nod against him, but you still don’t let go. So neither does he, he never wants to let go of you again.

Because if this is what you need to be held, to be grounded, to be reminded that he’s not going anywhere then Steve will hold you all night. He would hold you for the rest of his life if you’d let him.

---

It starts small, something stupid, insignificant, something that shouldn’t even matter.

You don’t even remember what sets it off. Maybe it’s the way Steve keeps pushing, keeps asking, keeps trying to dig past the walls you’ve spent years perfecting.

Maybe it’s the way you deflect, dodge, pretend you don’t care when you care so fucking much it’s suffocating.

Maybe it’s all of it. But suddenly, you’re both yelling.

Loud, sharp, raw.

Like neither of you can stop. Like this isn’t just about this moment it’s about everything you’ve both been avoiding.

“Why do you do this?” Steve demands, running a hand through his hair, pacing like he physically can’t stand still.

“Do what, Steve?” Your voice is sharp, your chest heaving.

“Act like none of this fucking matters!” He whirls on you, eyes burning, voice full of something angry and desperate. “Like I don’t fucking matter!”

Your stomach twists. “I never said that!”

“You don’t have to!” Steve throws his arms out, exhaling hard. “You just keep running, keep pushing me away every time I try to get close to you!”

“I’m not running!”

“Bullshit!”

Silence.

The word hangs in the air, thick and heavy and undeniable. Your fingers curl into fists, your chest aches.

“Why do you even care?” you snap, voice shaking now, uneven. “Why the fuck do you keep trying to fix me, Steve? Huh! I didn’t ask for this, I-I didnt ask to be fixed!”

Steve stares at you, breathing hard, shaking his head like he can’t fucking believe you just said that. “Because I fucking love you, that’s why!”

The words explode into the space between you, loud and sharp and so, so real.

Your breath haults.

You don’t move.

You don’t speak.

Because this is what you were afraid of. Because if he loves you, if he really fucking loves you, then that means he can leave and take everything you have left with him when he does.

Steve, he sees the way your face crumples for just a second before you shove it all down again. He sees all of it.

“Yeah,” he breathes, shaking his head, “that’s what I thought.”

He turns away and for the first time he’s the one walking away from you.

----

You don’t know what breaks first.

Maybe it’s the silence. The unbearable weight of it, the nights spent staring at the ceiling, wondering why the hell you keep doing this, to yourself, to him, to both of you.

Maybe it’s the fight. The way Steve walked away from you, the way his voice cracked when he told you he loved you, the way you let him go anyway or maybe it’s just everything.

All of it. The exhaustion, the longing, the fear. The realization that you’re ruining this. That you’ve spent so much time pushing Steve away that you never stopped to think about what would happen if he actually left and you can’t do it anymore. Because you don’t want him to leave, you want him to stay. You finally want someone to stay, not just anyone but Steve Harrington.

Fuck this.

You grab your jacket. Your hands are shaking as you shove your feet into your shoes. You don’t even think, you just move.

You need to tell him. Now.

Before you lose your nerve. Before you talk yourself out of it. Before it’s too late.

You step out into the cool night air, heart pounding. The streetlights cast long shadows along the pavement, stretching toward Steve’s house, toward him.

That’s when you see him…walking, laughing.

With some girl you’ve probably seen before but never with him. She’s pretty, dark hair, bright eyes, smiling up at him like he’s the best thing in the world and Steve is smiling back. Laughing, carefree, easy. Never the way he is with you.

Then he sees you and his face falls. Like he wasn’t expecting you, like he somehow knows exactly what you were about to do because no matter how hard you try to stop it no one sees through you the way he does and like he's realizing it's already too late.

Something inside you shatters, you don’t wait for him to say anything.

You turn around and you leave. You don’t know where you’re going.

Your vision is blurring, breath shaky, uneven, hands curled into fists.

You don’t stop walking. You don’t look back. You don’t let yourself feel it because if you do, if you really let yourself feel it, you’ll fucking break and you can’t. Not here, not in the middle of the street. Not where he can still see you.

You don’t realize where you’re going until you’re standing in front of Robin’s house. You knock fast, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to hold it all in.

Robin opens the door, half-asleep, blinking. “Jesus Christ, do you know what time it—”

She stops. Her whole face softens. “What happened?”

You step inside, barely breathing, barely holding it together, then you break. “It’s my fault,” you whisper, voice shaking. “It’s all my fucking fault.”

Robin pulls you in instantly, arms wrapping around you solid, warm, safe. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing feels safe right now. Nothing feels real except the way your chest is collapsing in on itself, breath coming too fast, fingers gripping her sweater like you might fall apart completely if you let go.

“Hey, hey, slow down…what happened?”

Robin’s voice is soft but urgent, her hands moving up and down your back like she’s trying to steady you, like she knows if she lets go you’ll shatter completely.

Your throat is so fucking tight it hurts to speak, hurts to breathe, but you force it out anyway. “I was gonna tell him.”

Robin’s whole body goes still.

You suck in a sharp breath, chest heaving, forcing yourself to keep talking because if you stop, you’ll never say it. “I was finally gonna fucking tell him.”

Robin pulls back just enough to look at you. And the look on her face, the pure disbelief, the realization, the holy-shit-you-were-actually-going-to-do-it, holy-shit-i-fucking-knew-it, makes something in your stomach twist.

“Steve?” she asks, like she has to be sure. Like there’s even another answer.

You nod quickly, breath shaking, trying to keep it together. But you can’t. Because suddenly you’re back there, standing in the middle of the street, heart racing, hands sweating, ready to tell him everything.

Then the girl, he laugh, the way Steve had looked at her.

Your stomach clenches. You shake your head, biting back a sob. “And then I saw him.”

Robin’s eyes widen. “Saw him where?”

Your mouth opens, but the words don’t want to come out. Because if you say it, it’s real.

If you say it, then it happened. “With some girl.”

The second the words leave your lips, your throat tightens, hot and painful. You try to push the image away, but it’s seared into you. Steve walking beside her, easy and happy, like he wasn’t carrying around the same weight you were, like he had already moved on while you were still stuck trying to figure out how to hold him in your hands.

You force yourself to finish the thought.

“And he was…”

Your voice catches.

Robin’s fingers squeeze your arms. “Hey, look at me.”

But you can’t.

You squeeze your eyes shut, like if you don’t see her face, you won’t have to see his.

“He was laughing.”

The words feel so small. So stupid in comparison to the way they’re tearing you apart.

“He was… happy.”

Robin swears under her breath, pulling you in tighter, gripping you like she can physically hold you together.

“Okay, okay, just—” She exhales sharply, like she’s trying to find the right words, like she’s trying to fix this.

But she can’t, because you did this, because this is your fault.

“It’s my fault,” you whisper again, and this time, you feel something inside you break completely.

Robin shakes her head, fast, frantic. “Don’t do that. Don’t make this—”

“But it is!” Your voice rises, sharp, angry, desperate. Not at her, at yourself.

Because you did this, you pushed him away. You made him think he was never going to be enough for you. You waited too fucking long.

“I’ve been doing this for months, Robin!” Your breath is ragged, hands trembling so badly you have to curl them into fists. “I’ve been fucking running, and he, he finally had enough and now it’s—”

“He told me y’know? He told me he loves me and I—” Your voice breaks completely.

Because you can’t even finish the sentence, because the end of it is too fucking final.

Robin pulls you against her again, arms tight around you, whispering something soft and steady against your hair, but you barely hear it over the roaring in your head.

“It’s not too late,” she murmurs. “Trust me, It’s not.”

But you just shake your head. Because it is and you hate yourself for it. You hate yourself for so many things.

For being a coward, for waiting until it was too late. For loving him at all and then it comes out. The thing you’ve been choking on for months.

“I love him, Robin.”

Robin stiffens.

You squeeze your eyes shut, a choked sob ripping from your throat.

“I love Steve.”

Your voice is wrecked, broken, shattered beyond repair.

“I love him.”

And saying it doesn’t fix anything, It just makes it hurt worse. Robin’s hands tighten around you and you finally just let yourself cry.

---

Steve is already at Family Video when Robin walks in, half-asleep and nursing a coffee the size of her head.

“We have a problem. A big problem.”

Steve barely looks up from where he’s crouched behind the counter, digging through a box of VHS tapes with a deep scowl.

“Yeah, I know.” He groans, tossing a cassette aside. “They sent us two boxes of the wrong movies. Keith’s gonna have a fucking aneurysm if we don’t..”

“No, you idiot,” Robin cuts in.

Steve pauses. Looks up, frowning. ”…What?”

Robin crosses her arms, expression dead serious. “Y/N.”

Steve freezes. The tape in his hand slips from his fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

“What happened?” His voice is suddenly tight, sharp, urgent. “Is she okay?”

Robin exhales deeply, already exhausted. “She saw you.”

Steve blinks. “Huh?”

Robin glares. “Don’t play dumb, Harrington.”

That’s when it clicks, his face falls. “How do you know about that?” he asks slowly, voice almost hesitant, like he’s bracing himself.

Robin throws her hands in the air. “Because she came to my house at ten PM last night…crying!”

Steve’s stomach drops. “Wait, what?” He shakes his head. “Why? Why was she crying?”

Robin gives him the most exasperated look he’s ever seen.

“What do you mean why?! She saw you walking with some girl! She thinks you were on a date, dingus!”

Steve’s entire body locks up.

“What? No, no! That wasn’t—” He drags a hand down his face, heart pounding. “Wait, let’s, fuck, let’s take it back a minute.”

Robin stares at him expectantly.

Steve takes a deep breath, trying to make sense of the mess in his head.

“I was walking Mindy home. You know, Mindy, the one who works at the café next door? She got in that car accident last month, remember? She didn’t want to drive at night, and her boyfriend was working late, so I said I’d walk her home. Because I’m not an asshole.”

Robin’s eyes narrow. “So you weren’t on a date?”

“No!” Steve groans. “I told you, I was taking Keith’s closing shift! Why the fuck would I go on a date when I’ve been pining after the same girl for a year?”

Robin freezes andthen, it hits her. “Oh my God,” she whispers.

Steve rubs his temples, still processing.

“But Y/N, she was there, Robin and she looked, fuck, she looked so determined and then her face just fell. I thought—” He exhales sharply, voice wrecked. “I thought that was from seeing me because, God, I told her I was in love with her, and then I just fucking left. I did the thing she was most scared of, I left. I didn’t even give her a chance to speak.”

His hands are shaking. “Fuck,” he whispers, horrified. “I made her cry?”

Robin nods slowly. “Steve,” she says carefully, watching the realization slam into him all at once. “She was gonna tell you something.”

Steve’s mouth opens, ready to ask what…But then, he sees it.

He sees it on Robin’s face, the way she doesn’t say it but doesn’t have to. It crashes into him like a fucking freight train.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes, eyes going huge. “No way. No….no way.”

Robin nods. “Go.”

Steve doesn’t even think, he doesn’t need to. He just grabs his keys and runs.

Steve is out of breath.

His heart is pounding, sweat dripping down his back, his hair a mess from running his hands through it over and over again.

But he doesn’t care, because he can’t find you and he has to.

You weren’t at your house, you weren’t at the library, you weren’t at the cafe and every second he can’t find you, the panic in his chest gets worse.

He almost gives up, but then he sees them, the kids

They’re at the arcade on the bench, arguing over something stupid, but Steve doesn’t care.

He rushes over. “Have any of you seen Y/N?”

They all stop, turning to look at him.

“No,” Max says, frowning. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“None of your business.”

“Why are you sweating?” Mikes noses scrunches

Dustin's eyes widened, as he reads Steve’s face. His mouth drops open. “Holy shit, it’s happening!”

Mike blinks. “What’s happening?”

Lucas grins, nudging Dustin. “No way.”

Mike scowls. “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

Dustin points at Steve like he’s just uncovered the greatest mystery of all time. “He’s gonna go get the girl!!!”

Steve groans. “Oh my God.”

“Finally, fuck!” Lucus yells.

Steve scoffs, flipping him off as he turns back toward his car.

“You guys are the worst.”

“YOU’RE WELCOME!” Dustin shouts after him.

But Steve isn’t listening anymore, because he thinks he knows where you are.

Steve finds you at Lover’s Lake. Sitting on the dock, feet dangling over the water, staring out at nothing.

And when he sees you, when he finally fucking sees you, he lets out a breath of pure relief. His whole chest unclenches. You don’t even look at him when he sits beside you. You don’t startle, don’t ask how he found you, don’t even acknowledge his presence at first.

You both just sit there. The sound of the water lapping against the wood. The distant hum of crickets, the soft rustling of the trees.

Steve doesn’t know how to start this.

But you do.

Your voice is small, barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m sinking.”

Steve’s whole body goes still, because this is it he thinks, the walls are coming down.

“Like I can barely breathe,” you continue, staring straight ahead. “Like I’m barely above water and sometimes I just… I just want it to stop. I want to stay at the bottom, where it’s dark, where there’s no air, where it’s quiet.”

Steve’s heart fucking breaks.

“And I feel horrible thinking like that,” you whisper, voice wavering, hands trembling. “Because those kids? They’re handling this better than I ever could and I don’t know why I’m like this, Steve.”

“Hey.” Steve leans forward, eyes locked on you. “Hey, look at me.”

You don’t, you just keep going because if you don’t you might lose the courage.

“I don’t like to get close to people,” you say, voice flat now, like you’ve rehearsed this, like you’ve convinced yourself that this is just the way it is. “Because everyone leaves.”

Steve’s chest tightens.

“My dad was supposed to love my mom and he did—” You pause, let out a bitter breath. “Until I came. Then he left and once he left, my mom didn’t want me anymore. Because I was—”

Your throat closes up.

Steve is listening so hard it hurts.

“Because I’m unlovable.”

Steve inhales sharply, like he’s about to interrupt, about to argue, about to tell you you’re wrong, you’re so wrong.

But you keep going. “Being alone? There’s less feeling involved. Less chance of getting hurt. Less disappointment. It’s just… easier.”

You exhale, shaking your head, “But you, Steve…”

His breath catches.

“You make me want to swim.”

Steve sucks in a breath.

“You’re the sun,” you say, voice shaking now. “Shining on the top of the water, lighting the way up and it’s so fucking scary, because—”

You finally turn to face him, tears clinging to your lashes. Eyes so open, so raw, so full of everything you’ve been holding in for so goddamn long.

“Because I love you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve feels like he can’t breathe.

“I love you.”

His heart is slamming against his ribs, his hands are shaking.

Because this is it, this is everything.

You clench your jaw, arms tightening around yourself, like you’re trying to brace for impact and Steve hates it.

Hates that you expect love to hurt.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, softer now. “I’m right here. I’ve always been right here.”

Your breath catches. “I don’t know how to be what you need,” you whisper.

Steve exhales. “You already are.”

Steve finally pulls you in, pressing his forehead against yours, holding onto you like he’s never going to let go, his thumbs brushing away your tears.

“Say it again.”

You blink, surprised. “Steve…”

“Please.” His hands are on your face now, cupping your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears. “Say it again.”

You let out a breath, a broken, shaky, beautiful breath.

“I love you.”

Then he kisses you and it’s not soft.

It’s everything.

It’s months of tension snapping like a rubber band.

It’s his hands shaking against your skin, your fingers tangling in his hair, both of you holding on like you’re afraid this moment might slip through your fingers.

It’s the realization that neither of you have to be alone anymore.

That you’re finally, finally getting it right, when you finally pull away, foreheads pressed together, breath mingling, hearts racing.

Steve smiles. “I love you too.”

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #Spotify

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years ago

Note

Ok 1 I love your Halloween theme, and 2 can I request a delightfully unhinged threesome between estranged twins, jackson and Dr. Crane 👀

oh my i wonder who could've given you such a ridiculously thirsty idea!!! definitely wasn't me ummm anyways this turned out to be another full length fic, so. yeah.

𝖌𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖎 | jonathan crane x reader x jackson rippner

length: 3.6k

warnings: NONCON SMUT (dark as fuck, 18+ only, read the warnings), kidnapping, implied stalking, yandere!jonathan, threesome with oral m receiving and breeding kink, housewife kink, slight corruption kink, possibly inexperienced jonathan??

It was eerie, seeing his twin on the other side of the doorway; it wasn’t quite like looking in a mirror, but it was closer than anything else was.

The differences were obvious, and had only become stronger over time: the hair, the glasses, even the way they dressed. But the biggest difference between the brothers was their smiles… in fact, Jackson was wearing that tilted, toothy grin already. “Well, look at you,” he greeted smugly, “Doctor Crane.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d really come,” Jonathan admitted quietly.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d ever call me again,” Jackson laughed as he stepped inside, despite never actually having been invited in. “Nice place, Doc— guess they pay you pretty good at the looney bin.”

“We, uh, try not to use that term,” Jonathan mumbled as he watched Jackson roam the apartment, getting a little nervous that he might break one of the more expensive decorations or artifacts.

“So, what’s this problem you needed my help with?” Jackson wondered as he spun on his heel to face his brother. “Must be a pretty sticky situation you’ve got yourself in if you have to ring up your big brother.”

“You’re only four—"

“Four minutes older, yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes, “but somebody had to be first.”

“I need… advice,” Jonathan finally answered, “regarding a sort of… sensitive situation.”

“You can spare the foreplay, Jonny, this isn’t my first time,” Jackson smirked. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Nothing… happened, really,” he sighed, “I just… there’s someone that needs to be… dealt with.”

“If you want a hit, I don’t actually do that,” Jackson explained, “but I can call somebody for you—“

“Not a hit, no,” Jonathan shook his head, “the opposite, really… I need her kept alive.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Oh? A ladyfriend you want protected?”

“Uh, sure,” Jonathan mumbled awkwardly, “but I’ll take care of that. It’s her, um, footprint, if you will. Her old identity, and all that— I need her to disappear, so to speak. W-well, she already disappeared… I just need people to stop looking for her.”

“You know, you’re always full of surprises, Jonny,” Jackson laughed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have this woman in your basement.”

“I don’t have a basement,” Jackson replied.

“That’s… not the part I was expecting you to deny…”

Soon enough, Jonathan escorted Jackson to his bedroom, where you were tied to one of the bedposts by your wrists, curled up in a shaking little ball, watching with wide eyes as the two men entered the room. Jackson realized you probably hadn't seen anyone other than Jonathan since getting here-- that, or you were just thinking oh fuck, there's two of them?!

“Why’d you dress her up like that?” Jackson snorted, admiring the vintage-style dress and heels, with a matching set of pearl earrings and necklace. “I didn’t know you were so… traditional.”

Jonathan cleared his throat, his cheeks tinting a bit pink. “Can we just focus on the present issue, please?”

"And what a lovely issue it is," Jackson cooed as he stepped closer to you, admiring you with a tilted head.

You watched him approach with wide eyes, finally speaking in a broken whisper. “Please,” you choked out, “help me— he’s keeping me here, I think he’s gonna kill me—“

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Jackson smiled, “he’s real sweet on you. I’d just be worried about whatever freaky shit he’s into.”

“Well, as you can see, she’s not adjusting very well,” Jonathan sighed. “I thought my drugs would help— and she’s pretty obedient when she’s been given a large dose, so I was sort of right— but I can’t keep her high all day, she’ll build a tolerance. And I know her case is going to get a little too much attention, if there isn’t some kind of closure for the police or the family sometime soon. I mean, a beautiful, promising young medical student? Gone without a trace? It’s cable news catnip.”

“You’re right about that,” Jackson agreed. “There’s a pretty face perfect for the papers.”

As Jackson reached to tilt your chin, petting the line of your jaw, Jonathan slapped his hand away. “Hey, hands to yourself,” Crane warned, “she’s mine.”

“Okay, Mr. Defensive,” Jackson widened his eyes, raising his hands like he was perfectly innocent. “How sloppy were you? Are they gonna find any evidence that brings them here?”

“I don’t think so,” Jonathan sighed, “but you can’t be too sure. Even without evidence, she took one of my classes, so if they get desperate enough they can certainly trace her to me.”

Jackson sighed. “That’s tricky,” he nodded. “And it gives us two options.”

“Which are?”

“The happy ending, and the sad ending,” Jackson explained. “Happy ending: I get one of my little computer nerd friends to fake a plane ticket to somewhere exotic. Send a postcard to a friend. Just like that, she’s absconded from her old life, escaped the pressure of med school, and everyone thinks she’s off somewhere getting her groove back or whatever.”

“And the sad ending?”

“Bloody clothing planted by the woods, with a tip that somebody saw her hiking,” he shrugged. “Big bad wolf got to her. Simple as that. That one’s handy because no one’s gonna expect her to come back… and you can have her all to yourself, forever.”

Jonathan bit his lip, obviously excited by the idea. “I'm guessing that will require taking a sample from her?"

"Not too much," Jackson promised, "you're a doctor, you can do it safely."

"She's scared enough of me as it is," Jonathan sighed. "I thought she would... take to it a little faster."

"What, you thought she would like getting kidnapped?"

"I thought she would appreciate how well I can take care of her," Jonathan clarified.

"Oh, Jonny," Jackson laughed, "you haven't learned a thing about women since the last time I saw you, huh?"

Jonathan didn't even have the heart to deny it.

"When they ask if they look fat in something-- you just say no, don't even look, okay? It's like DARE: Just. Say. No." Jackson informed his brother sternly. "And when they say they're not hungry and don't want anything, just order some fries anyway or she's gonna end up with half your entrée. And most of all-- you can't forget this one-- they really dislike being kidnapped and held in captivity."

Jonathan crossed his arms. "I knew that," he announced defensively.

"Let me ask you this," Jackson began with a twinkle in his eye. "Have you used her yet?"

Jonathan shuddered a little, looking embarrassed as he looked at you and then to the floor. "J-just once..." he admitted. "That was... a lapse in restraint. I had wanted to wait until she was more comfortable, but..."

"But you just couldn't help yourself with a sweet little thing like this in your bed, huh?" Jackson finished. "I get it. And she looks cute when she's scared."

You shuddered under Jackson's hungry stare, and he winked at you. "So, you'll take care of it?" Jonathan reminded him. "Happy ending or sad ending, whatever you think is best."

"Well, I'm always a fan of a happy ending," Jackson smirked. "You know speaking of: I figure I can give you a good deal on this whole thing... you know, since you're family."

"Alright," Jonathan nodded.

“I’ll make sure her case is closed… if you let me take her for a spin.”

It seemed to take Jonathan a moment to realize what that meant, before he laughed incredulously. “No,” he asserted, “absolutely not.”

“Oh, don’t be so insecure,” Jackson pouted, “she’ll still be yours when I’m done with her. You can keep her for the rest of your life— I’m just asking for one night.”

"I can pay you very well for your time, Jackson," Jonathan promised.

"Eh, money's boring," Jackson shrugged.

"If I recall correctly, women tend to bore you pretty easily as well," Jonathan accused with a frown.

"Sheesh, you kidnap one woman and you start getting all judgmental that I haven't settled down," Jackson rolled his eyes. "I don't have a lot of time for anything serious, that's all. In fact, I barely have time for anything these days. That's why I figure I can help you break in Mrs. Crane over there."

"I don't need any help," Jonathan promised.

"Except for the part where, if I don't help you, you're probably gonna get caught with a missing woman tied to your bed," Jackson reminded him.

Jonathan sighed, clearly realizing the choice he had to make.

“C'mon, just a little favor for your favorite twin brother? You can stay and make sure I don’t do anything you wouldn’t… approve of,” Jackson rolled his eyes, “you prude.”

"She's innocent," Jonathan breathed, "that's what I liked about her-- it's why I had to bring her here. You'll... you'll ruin her. I can't let you do that."

“Seems like you don’t really have a choice,” Jackson noticed, lowering his voice and leaning in closer to Jonathan.

There was a pause, and finally Jackson turned to leave the room as he patted Jonathan on the back.

"Get a good lawyer, buddy," he offered as his final piece of advice.

But before he could take another step, Jonathan relented with a sigh: “Make it quick.”

“Hey,” Jackson shrugged with a grin as he shed his jacket and tossed it aside, “no promises.”

He all but leapt onto the bed, crawling up to you as you whined and shrunk away.

“Did y’hear that, babydoll? Jonny said it’s my turn to play with you,” he purred.

As you tried to shrink away, he grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you down, forcing you onto your back and keeping your tied wrists above your head as the rope when taut.

He growled as he laid on top of you, leaning in to kiss your neck. “I can make it good for you,” he breathed, “if you behave. It’ll be so much better than whatever my idiot baby brother does to you— promise.”

Jackson's hands crawled up your skirt, and he bit his lip as you kicked your legs in protest.

"Be good, baby," he warned you sharply. "Good girls get a treat... you know what bad girls get?"

You didn't seem that invested in an answer, but he continued anyways as he lowered his voice and spoke by your ear.

"Bad girls get fucked up the ass," he whispered, giving a quick little kiss to the side of your face; suddenly, you relaxed a bit under him and stopped resisting so much. "That's a good girl," he praised, spreading your legs a bit and petting them until he reached higher and found you totally bare under the dress. "Oh my, Jonny didn't even give you panties to wear? Poor baby..."

Jonathan shuddered and crossed his arms, looking away with his head and yet unable to actually look anywhere else but the bed. He was trying to figure out how his brother had gotten you to behave so quickly... when Jonathan had given in to temptation and forced himself on you, it was a constant battle to keep you down as you kicked and screamed and begged him to stop. Whether it was the sight before him now, or the memory of that night, Jonathan felt his cock twitch in his trousers.

Jackson sat up a bit, opening his own pants and sighing as he wrapped his hand around himself. "Fuck, look at that pretty pussy," he purred as he held your legs open wide with his other hand. "Oh, we're gonna have so much fun together, sweetheart."

He spit straight down onto you, smearing it around your opening with his tip, before pressing right up to your hole. He groaned loudly as he slid inside-- one long, slow stroke as he filled you. You whined and shut your eyes tight, but otherwise resisted the urge to struggle.

"Fuuuuck," Jackson purred, holding on tight to your hips as he simply buried himself inside you for a moment. "So tight, honey, Jesus."

Beginning to move, he laid himself down over you and kissed your neck again, moaning against your skin. You whimpered, back arching slightly under him, and he smiled when he felt you tense up as he thrusted into you just a little harder.

"Oh, baby, feel how deep I am?" he grunted. "Feel how good I'm stretching out that little hole? Fuck, keep squeezin' me like that and maybe I will make this quick..."

He grabbed your hips and yanked them up a bit, holding you right where he wanted you-- and sitting up again, so he could get just the perfect angle as he started fucking into you again. Normally he would build up a little more naturally before being so rough but, well, you weren't going anywhere... he could just use you and chase his own pleasure. That said, he still grinned proudly when you moaned suddenly, your head falling back and your back arching. That was when he decided that, even though he had no real obligation to make you come, he was going to anyways-- if for no other reason than to know that he could take total control of your body, and force you to an orgasm even unwillingly.

"Right there?" he taunted as you whined, giving you fast and hard thrusts right into the place that made you bite down on your lip. "Yeah, that's it-- you're getting so wet, honey, you feel that? Gonna soak my fucking cock, aren't you?"

He tilted his head back and shut his eyes, letting himself bask in the feeling for a moment. You made little sounds, obviously trying to hold yourself back, but the longer it went on the less you were able to fight it-- soon you were properly moaning, arching your back deeper, your walls clenching on him rhythmically as you came.

"Fuck, just like that," Jackson praised as he watched you give into it. "Just like that, baby, fucking cream all over me-- good girl."

Jonathan watched in astonishment as you quivered all over, nervously clearing his throat as he tried to conceal the throbbing erection in his pants-- and it seemed to remind Jackson that his brother was still standing nearby.

"What was that about your girl being innocent, Crane?" Jackson laughed. "'Cause she seems like a desperate fucking whore to me."

“H-how’d you make her do that?” Jonathan asked with a shaky whisper, licking his lips a bit as he watched you writhe against the mattress.

“Nothing to it, really,” Jackson smiled, “just gotta find that spot and beat the hell out of it. Here, I’ll show you.”

You whimpered as Jackson pulled out and slid his fingers inside you, curling them against the place that had become more sensitive than ever.

“Right here,” he explained, “you try it.”

He took his fingers out as Jonathan approached the bed— and you felt Jonathan’s fingers slide in a second later, a bit more hesitance to his movements. He let out a wavering sigh, and Jackson smiled.

“Feel the swollen part? Rub her there— hard.”

He curled his fingers slightly and you bit your lip.

“Harder,” Jackson instructed.

“I-I don’t want to hurt her…”

“Well, she needs it rough,” Jackson laughed, “so man up and make her come!”

You yelped when Jonathan harshly pressed into the spot, making your whole body shake as he started to thrust the digits in and out of you. “Wow,” Jonathan breathed as he watched you, his brother smiling proudly next to him.

"She can probably come again pretty fast," Jackson assumed, "you should try. See how fast you can make her scream again."

Jackson, meanwhile, moved to kneel by your head, slapping your face a little to cue you to open your mouth. He groaned as he rubbed his tip over your tongue, forcing you to taste yourself alongside his salty precum.

You unintentionally clench on Jonathan's fingers, and he smiled wide. "Like that?" he asked eagerly. "Are you gonna come again?"

"Just keep doing it," Jackson urged his brother before speaking to you again. "C'mon baby, you can take a little more."

Holding your hair, Jackson started to fuck your mouth a bit more earnestly, making Jonathan frown at him after you gagged a few times. "Be careful," he warned him, "don't hurt her."

"I know, I know," Jackson rolled his eyes. "But look at that mouth, Crane, don't you think it's just made to take cock?"

Jonathan couldn't exactly disagree, he'd fantasized about your mouth plenty of times. But now, he was much more focused on your pussy-- he was watching it closely, enraptured by the way his fingers moved in and out of it... and the way it responded, gripping him tighter and tighter.

"Go on, suck it," Jackson ordered you impatiently, smacking you on the cheek again to try to encourage you. You whimpered and hollowed your cheeks, blinking up at him as he grinned down at you. "Oh, pretty eyes-- I can tell why Jonny couldn't resist you..."

You moaned again, and Jackson raised an eyebrow as he looked down for a moment at what Jonathan was doing-- which was moving his fingers faster inside you, watching you whimper and writhe as you reached the edge again.

"Show me," Jonathan begged, "come for me-- come on my fingers."

It happened pretty quickly, and Jackson let you take a break from sucking him for a second so they could both enjoy your pretty moans as you creamed around Jonathan's fingers.

"O-oh, fuck," Jonathan gasped, "I can feel her... pulsing."

"Yeah," Jackson grinned, "really something, isn't it?"

"Fuck," Jonathan said again, taking his fingers out and suddenly climbing onto the bed. "Need to feel that on my cock."

"Atta boy," Jackson praised with a laugh.

Jonathan moaned loudly as he pushed inside you, your own reaction a muffled groan around Jackson's cock which he shoved between your lips again. "Oh, god," Jonathan whined, "you feel even better than I remember, angel-- fuck, I missed you so much."

He was even more desperate and impatient than before, fucking you quickly and eagerly even though you were far too sensitive for it after coming twice in a row.

Jackson pulled back out of your mouth, but held your head steady as he stroked himself rapidly. “Gonna coat that pretty face,” he growled, “keep your mouth open, baby, I’m close…”

You whimpered and tried to keep your throat shut, afraid to choke on his come while laying back like this, and after a few more moments he groaned loudly as ropes of come fell over your face and onto your waiting tongue. You grunted a little in surprise but just tried to squint your eyes in case some got too close, but the vast majority went into your mouth or over your cheek.

"Fuck," Jackson purred, milking his cock for every drop before finally taking his hand away and sinking back, looking down at you with a new redness and sheen of sweat to his face. "Good girl. You can swallow now baby-- oh, wait, let's make sure you get it all first."

He swiped up the come on your cheek with his thumb, feeding it to you as you closed your lips and swallowed his salty spend.

"I told you good girls get a treat," he grinned.

Jonathan, meanwhile, was panting and whimpering and clearly trying to hold himself back-- but the way he held you tight enough to bruise gave away how close to the edge he really was. "I can't wait," he finally admitted with a groan. "I need to come, angel-- I need to come inside, get you pregnant. Then we can be happy together."

Suddenly, he started to rub your sore clit with his thumb; and you jolted again, pulsing around him as he sighed and dropped his head onto your shoulder.

"Fuck, beautiful-- just like that, let me feel you come again, please. Then I can fill you so deep..."

"You can make her come one more time," Jackson assured, "she's so sensitive-- go on and come for him, baby, let him feel how hard you come..."

Though Jonathan was a little irritated by the way Jackson made it seem like a favor you were doing on his behalf, he couldn't complain when he felt you coming around him, slick walls pulsing so perfectly around him that he had to come with a loud, broken moan. He kept moving until he was sure he'd given you everything, heart racing as he imagined and hoped that he'd properly bred you this time.

Then, there was a silence. Not very long, but plenty nervous as the three of you caught your breath.

"Well... mazel tov," Jackson offered with an awkward laugh, getting up off the bed and getting himself back in order. "I'll call you when it's all taken care of, Jonny. You, uh... you have fun with her, alright? Call if you need anything or, you know... feel like sharing again..."

"I wouldn't hold my breath for that, Jackson," Jonathan sighed.

"Don't miss me too much, honey," Jackson winked at you as he slipped his jacket back on. "But feel free to think about me so you can get off while this guy's fucking you," he joked, motioning to his brother with a tilt of his head.

"Don't listen to him, angel," Jonathan cooed at you as Jackson finally left the room. You shivered a little as he trailed kisses all over your face and neck, holding you a little tighter. "You're all mine-- you finally know that now, don't you?

#jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner dark smut #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane dark smut

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 8 months ago

Text

Eddie noticed things. Well, not always right away, but he noticed things. He noticed that Steve liked to be affectionate with the people he cared about: Robin, Dustin, Nancy, and so on. He tried not to read into it when Steve immediately started doing it with him in the Upside Down. He could still feel the tingles from when Steve had placed his hand on his lower back for the first time. The shock that shot through Eddie and the realization that it might not be just women for him nearly sent him crashing to the ground. Worst time to have a sexuality crisis. It had made him realize that he had been checking out Steve on that boat, though. They hadn't gotten together for a long time, though, with them both still healing and Eddie dealing with the aftermath of everything, still dealing with the weight of Chrissy's death. Not until after the kids had gone back to school again.

"I'm just worried, you know! Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, and Vickie graduated. Who's going to look after the kids? Plus, becoming a basketball coach is something I would definitely enjoy doing. Is that stupid?" Steve asked.

Eddie was leaning back against the counter, watching Steve restock the shelves in Family Video. It was empty except for them. He loved the way that Steve’s eyes lit up all protective-like when he talked about the kids. It made Eddie's insides all fuzzy.

"Fucking marry me," Eddie had blurted out.

"Buy me dinner first," Steve said, blushing.

"Okay," Eddie said. "It's a date."

Steve looked at him for a moment, trying to decide if he's serious or not. His face split into a grin, and he put the wrong video on the shelf. He was ridiculously goofy-looking with the way that he grinned, the way his hazel eyes got bigger, and his prince charming hair just looking even better today. Eddie couldn't help but let out a dreamy sigh. That was that. Being with Steve was an adjustment because he had to change his entire view of jocks. He could no longer look at them all as the enemy. It was just a game, just like his own game. The real assholes were the ones that hunted him down, who accused him of murder, and bullied him and his group of misfits. No, the real enemy were the people like Higgins who thought there needed to be division and hatred because they had different interests. Eddie couldn't prove it, but he was pretty sure that Higgins had encouraged their behavior and, because of that, had given Eddie a skewed view of jocks. So, it's all Higgins' fault, really.

Over the last few months of being with Steve, he had come to accept a few things: that jocks weren't all bad, that he was actually starting to like sports, and that he was absolutely in love with Steve. Though he wished Wayne would stop cackling at him. Yeah, yeah, all the shit he gave Wayne about liking sports, and Eddie had to go fall for a jock. The one thing he really loved about Steve was how much he would do for the people, but he hated that he would sacrifice taking care of himself to do it. Although, Eddie was guilty for taking the opportunity to swoop in like a brave knight to help take care of the former king of Hawkins High.

"Where do you think you're going?" Eddie asked from the doorway of Steve’s bedroom.

"Dustin needs a ride," Steve groaned as he rolled out of bed.

"How are you going to do that when you're sick?" Eddie asked.

"I'm not sick," Steve scowled. "I do not get sick."

Steve sneezed so hard that he fell back onto the bed. He groaned, a snot bubble coming out of his nose.

"Sexy," Eddie grinned.

"Fuck off," Steve groaned.

"You say such sweet things to me," Eddie said.

Steve got up off the bed, stuffed his feet into two different pairs of shoes, and tried to move past Eddie. He grabbed Steve’s shoulders.

"I got to give Dustin a ride," Steve said. "I promised."

"Hm, okay, what day of the week is it?" Eddie asked his very stubborn boyfriend.

"It's Tuesday," he scoffed.

"Yeah, try again, big boy. It's Thursday," Eddie said.

"If it's Thursday, does that mean I already gave him a ride?" Steve asked.

"I gave him a ride, and I'm here now. You don't have to be a single mom anymore, Stevie," he teased, flashing his dimples. "Daddy's here."

Eddie picked Steve up and laid him on the bed.

"You're just trying to get into my pants. I'm not sick," Steve said and coughed up phlegm.

"And what's that?" Eddie said.

"I forgot to swallow again," Steve said. "I'll do better. I just need practice."

"Right."

Eddie had stayed all week to take care of Steve and another week for Steve to take care of him when he got sick. Supposedly, he had been worse than Steve, but he was pretty sure that Steve was lying. Steve hadn't complained about it, though. Apparently, he had gotten used to it when he had to take of Eddie when he gotten bit by the bats. Eddie really didn't remember how needy he had been, but apparently, he had been. It was amazing how easy it had been to slip into the role of caring boyfriend, considering that he had never really been one. The first girl he had been with had been a dare for her, and the second had been Paige. He had epically screwed that up. He wasn't perfect, and neither was Steve. Oddly enough, he liked that about their relationship. They didn't have to try so very hard to be perfect. There's always a little give and take in every relationship, though.

"Steve, honey, what are you wearing?" Eddie asked him one day when they were hanging out at Steve's house.

He was dressed all in black. Okay, the black pants were a good fit, but there was something off about everything else. There was something missing.

"You don't like it?" Steve pouted.

"I mean, I do, and I don't," Eddie said, shaking his head. "Where the fuck is your polo?"

"I just thought a change might be good," Steve said.

"No! Nope! No way!" Eddie exclaimed. "If I wanted to date myself, I would take my hand out for a nice little dinner!"

"Robin said - "

"Robin also believes that there are little demobat eggs waiting to burst out of us like in Alien," Eddie said. "So, what she says might not be so trustworthy especially since there's the possibility that she's fucking with you."

"So, you really don't like it?" Steve asked.

"Steve, baby, I love your sweet little sexy numbers," Eddie said. "Do you know why I love seeing you in them?"

"Why?" Steve asked.

Eddie sighed and pulled Steve into his lap.

"Because you like wearing them," Eddie said. "I don't want you to be me or anyone else. I fell in love with Steve Harrington, and Steve Harrington is what I'm going to get. I love everything about you, from your pastel colors to your polos to you playing basketball. Everything. So, if you don't want to wear these clothes, you shouldn't."

"I love you, too," Steve said. "I mean, I kind of like the black pants with the polo, but other than that, I'll change back."

"Yeah, I figured," Eddie grinned. "I mean, there's nothing about me that you want to change?"

"No! I love everything about you," Steve said. "I mean, I wish you wouldn't leave the wet towels on our bathroom floor. I totally busted my ass on them the other day."

"I think I can work on that," Eddie said and caressed his butt. "Wouldn't want to do anything to damage this sweet thing. But seriously, Stevie, don't change a thing. I'd rather you butt ass naked than try to be me."

"I think I can work on that too," Steve grinned and kissed him. "Let me go change."

Eddie sighed and watched him walk out of the room. When Steve came back in, he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, and his hands were firmly on his hips.

"Well, I was going to put on my polo, but I got a little hot and bothered," Steve said.

"Goddamn, darlin," Eddie whistled, stood up, slapping Steve’s ass. "I guess I have to go put up those towels. It's not fair if only you make the effort."

"I love you!"

"I love you more!"

"More than Dungeons and Dragons?!"

"Don't push it!"

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #bi4bi #idiot4idiot #dingus4dingus #bifire #bi as hell bi the way #stranger things fanfiction #rueleigh's thoughts #rueleigh writes

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kakerutori · 10 months ago

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About the Byler scene that changed it all

The van scene is by no means my favorite Byler scene because it hurts. A lot. But at the same time, the power that it holds cannot match anything else between Mike and Will for me.

We’ve seen years of Mike worrying about Will from the very first “that’s weird. I don’t see him.” To the “it was the best thing I’ve ever done.” From “it’s not my fault” to “I’m sorry” to “maybe you should have reached out more” to “friends. Best friends,” Mike is sincere. Over. And over. And over again. He loves out in the open for all to see, yes, even in his mistakes, but that’s what makes him human. That’s what makes him who he is. He’s sarcastic and quick and irritable, but oh, when he’s leading, inspiring, and guiding?

Will plays an important role in Stranger Things wherein we rarely get to see his heart. But no, of course we do. He’s the one everyone fought for since season 1, so of course he’s known to us. But that’s just it, everyone else fights for him. They say that proof of good character is if other people recognize it in you, and Will has been the center of that treatment from the very start. Sure, he’s also seen in very negative lights, being made fun of even when he’s assumed dead, but I don’t care about the people who don’t know him. I care about the people who do. And those who do search for him until he’s found. Never give up even when it seems theoretically impossible. Protect him, family and friends alike.

And those things may just be givens in most loving relationships, so let’s take it a step further. What do people say about him? In season 1, Mike asserts that Will risked his character’s life for The Party - an imaginary compromise - and Lucas immediately understands the signal to go out and save him, taking even a fictitious virtue and ascribing it so meaningfully to Will that it’s worth fighting for him in real danger. Then in season 2, Joyce recounts about Will giving a little girl his own toy truck simply because she was sad. In season 3, when Will is explaining what he thinks happened to the Mind Flayer and why it inexplicably seemed to return, Mike is at his defense, saying he’s right without a doubt. Will is trustworthy, and the rest follow. Then in season 4 in arguably one of the sweetest scenes in the whole show, Will and Jonathan are on the verge of tears, and when Will says that he’ll always be there for Jonathan, Jonathan says that he knows he will be. Will is selfless, venerable, caring and wise in a sweet mixture, and when he loves, people know it.

For everything. Everything except his love for Mike. His love for Mike is something that cannot be easily digested or explained. Looking back at that Will and Jonathan scene by the tub before the mind fight, this is something that takes a step into the part of his heart that no one readily sees or pays attention to. If it is, again, it’s pushed in ridicule, covered in insensitive names, not celebrated. It’s something that makes him cry, something that he can’t even say out loud. Jonathan was the one to recognize that things were complicated for his brother and he reached out, knowing that it was hurting Will.

But despite the pain. Despite all of the shame that comes with being who he is, he lets his love out in a big reveal, the most anticipated hint all season long in season 4. And who does he reveal his heart to? Mike. He both risks it all in front of the very person of his affection and gives everything up for him, including his own love.

But be not despaired, because love is not a finite resource.

I know that this scene hurts on so many levels, especially because of what Will says about himself, but look at how Mike sees Will. I don’t think that I even need to put evidence here, but it’s just so tender and important to realize that this is not a hopeless scene.

This is the one who’s on the other end of Will’s message. This kind of attention is not going to become, ‘oh, hey, Will, I’m sorry, but I can’t accept what you said because you lied to me about who it’s from.’ If Mike does say this, he’s a liar. Look at him. He’s seeing Will plenty without a guise on his end. This is Mike falling in love with what Will is offering him.

And given everything that we know about Mike who stops at nothing to protect the ones he loves and Will who would give himself up for the ones he loves, both loving to the point of sacrifice, hand in hand, how can you come away from this scene saying that Mike would easily reject Will? That Mike won’t listen to Will and consider both of their own affections? That they won’t find an understanding? That forgiveness is foreign to them?

Will has given Mike the power to decide to buy the lie or realize it. And in a show that revolves around “friends don’t lie” and uncovering hidden truths, I doubt that Mike is going to simply buy it.

And from there, how beautiful would it be for Mike to openly accept him? To give the boy who thought he lost it all the chance to be loved in a way that makes him feel not different in a world that hates him? And how much more sweet would it be for Will to forever make Mike feel special, unceasingly, without the need to lie? To let him know how adored he is and how he doesn’t have to fight his heart anymore over a romance of obligation rather than bliss?

Byler is endgame. We’re almost there. It just makes sense.

Happy Byler Day. 💙💛

#thinking many many thoughts #byler #byler analysis #happy byler day #mike wheeler #will byers #byler is endgame

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greenfiend · 19 days ago

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hi i was reading up on your analysis post on lonnie and how it all leads back to his abuse of will--i think its super likely the way you and the other blogposter from a few years back put it together (forgive me for not having their name on hand), but i was wondering how likely you think it is that the duffer brothers actually go in that direction.

everything adds up, but its hard for me to see them use that storyline even if its so perfect to the plot. the way yall talk about the set pieces esp from season 1 is VERY persuasive, but i dont even think lonnie is in season 5 so how would that even work?

Great question! I think we have been led astray from season 1, with so many other characters and plot lines appearing, that we forget what kick-started everything. A good story’s ending ties into the very beginning, which the writers have said season 5 would do.

Will is patient zero (perhaps number 0 too)… Not chronological within the timeline told to us in the show, but upon viewing the show as an audience, he is the very first victim. This fact cannot be understated. What happened to Will was the first domino that fell, the first nuclear fission reaction that triggered a chain reaction.

Now, when it comes to horror, most elements are based on reality. They are metaphors for aspects of the real world. One major theme within the show that connects with the supernatural is family dynamics. As well as childhood trauma and the mind itself.

We have seen dysfunctional family dynamics within: the Wheelers, the Creels, the Hargroves/Mayfields, the lab, El and Hopper, Vecna’s victims… etc etc.

We have seen a glimpse into the Byers. We know they struggle financially. We know Jonathan is being parentified and Joyce is a struggling single mother. We also know that Lonnie does not care for Will, that he left and that Jonathan despises him. Many people here usually just write the Byers off as being a healthy happy family without Lonnie despite what I had just listed.

We also have never seen Will and Lonnie interact.

This fact, along with the mountains of suspicious evidence tying Lonnie to Will’s disappearance is highly suspicious.

But the biggest clue?

Lonnie is forgotten in season 4.

In a season where El has an entire story/arc around repressed memories at the lab with Papa and Henry. Where we see the harm caused by “Papa” towards both El and Henry. Where we are explicitly told that our brains protect us from past trauma by forgetting. At the same time, Lonnie is forgotten. They even made this fact even more clear when they added the scene with Will and Jonathan where Jonathan tells Will about “Larry the construction worker” (Larry and Lonnie both being nicknames for Lawrence and Lonnie's backyard is literally a construction site).

Is Lonnie in season 5? Remember, we know very little of the filming, they kept most things under wraps! However, the actor who played Lonnie was seen in a behind the scenes image for season 4 (see above). There may have been pre-filmed footage of him. But also, the story isn’t about him. It’s not a revenge story, it’s about healing from trauma. He doesn’t need to make much of an appearance at all… perhaps just in flashbacks.

Some other thoughts leading me to this conclusion:

The writers and cast frequently allude to Will's importance to the story as a whole, and aspects of his trauma and queerness are referenced throughout the show frequently.

El was originally planned to die in season 1. The story is not actually centred around her but she has been taking Will's place up until now. Remember: Will “likes to hide”. The connection and parallels between Will and El are more than just that.

Henry was not originally in the plan for the show. The idea of him was there I believe but there is a reason why he wasn't in the show until later. He is NOT the villain of the show. He is a manifestation of the problem, the trauma.

Lonnie was the first suspect in the case of Will's disappearance and was never actually cleared as a suspect. I do not think he literally kidnapped Will in season 1, but he was the reason Will disappeared.

Demogorgon means “Deep Father”, the Mind Flayer = MF = “mother fucker”, Henry also means father as “Hawkins” means “son of Henry”. The connection to father is clear.

Will’s trauma with his father is majorly connected to his internalized homophobia. His father is the main reason why Will feels like “a mistake”. He needs to heal and accept himself for who he is.

There are major twists to come. Most people don’t theorize outside of the basic good vs evil premise… Vecna vs. Will and/or El and the latter winning. But things are not that simple, there’s likely an entirely different story going on beyond what we are told.

I could go on and on but I’ll leave this for now…

#Lonnie Byers #Will Byers #ask #asks #stranger things #stranger things theory

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sofixt0k · 2 months ago

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OPINION ABOUT THE NEW MILEVEN DEFENCE VIDEO ( 3 )

Part Three Her comments / My comments

"Shall we have a sip? If you know, this is just getting started, right? Let's go to Millie, who I don't think we even need to put much emphasis on Millie because I think, I mean, you can super tell that she loves, Mileven always said it early on, she's like the biggest Mileven Shipper in the universe, she said it in premieres when she was asked about Mileven, she also said it a lot in direct on Instagram when she was still in charge of her account and contacting fans more, she also talked a bunch of times about Mileven and how she called him Mileven in comic cons, et cetera. No matter what she looked like, no matter what she said, no matter what she did, he still loved her and that's just the perfect guy.

And how Millie wrote the scripts…gosh, I won't answer all of this. You guys already know what I think, what we think, about Millie's comments about mileven. Likewise this opinion on the video is directed at Bylers, not Milevens. I'm not looking for them to read this and become Bylers shippers, it's irrelevant to me.

Let's go now to Caleb, who plays Lucas. At a comic-con also recently he was asked who he would rather save, Mike or Max, and he said, let's see, I would save Max because I know Mike would choose Eleven over me.

???????, I didn't get the point, anyway, Caleb also said he prefers Elmax because they have a real love, not like mileven, so….

He said it too, that is, Mike would care about mileven, not another character,

“Not for another character”?????????¿?, sorry, I dreamt the last four seasons where he cares about Will, Dustin, Will, Will, Will, Max, Will, Nancy, Will… did I say Will?

-which I actually take the opportunity to bring this up because I was really amused because I saw it in a tweet recently, which is that when season 3 the mineflyer arrives at the mall, Mike immediately grabs Mileven's hand and takes her away to hide with her, and in season 4 when the shootings start at the byers' house, the military, as soon as they hear them, Mike storms off and leaves Will and Jonathan behind.

Sorry, sorry, sorry. We saw the same scene…, talking very seriously. You're talking about the scene where Mike blocks the door with his arm so Will doesn't go out to where the shooting is, you're talking about the scene where he puts his arm over his chest to protect him, like, you know, there wasn't a behind the scenes rehearsal where Finn has his hand on Noah's chest again, like… Intentional, you know?

I don't know why he was forcefully holding hands with him. But well, that's a separate thing, I just found it funny and it's very real. And finally we go to David Harbour's opinion, that in a comic con, if I'm not mistaken, in 2023, he was asked about Byler and he said, let's see, I think it's very clear that Mike loves Mileven, and basically again he kind of fell all the people who said that Byler could be possible.

Second subchapter, analyzing scenes. All the scenes that the Byler shippers see as romantic, or that say, no, this means that Mike really likes Will, that they're going to be a couple, I'm going to tell you, no, better grab it and analyze it on this side. Obviously there are a lot of scenes between Mike and Will, I'm not going to talk about all of them, I'm going to talk about the main ones, I'm going to talk about the ones where they kind of do say like they like each other.

The first one is when Will wakes up in season 1, after he was rescued from the Upside Down, which they basically say that Mike likes Will because when he sees him on the gurney he goes running to hug him.

I don't know. What a shipper Byler said. That we see that as romantic or as a sign that Byler is endgame. Why I haven't seen the first one say that. I've always seen that scene as one of the cutest miwi scenes in the world because after being all season looking for Will even though the “evidence” said he was dead, he never believed it, and it's so cute to see him not sleeping in the waiting room so he could see Will.

Did you see the whole scene? Because literally Dustin and Lucas also hug him, but they don't say that Will likes them, no, no, they just say it about Mike.

Afterwards, in that scene, you can check it out, keep in mind that he didn't see Will, I think a week, I think he was more or less a week lost in the Upside Down, and look he had known Will longer than he knew Eleven at the time.

Yet when he sees him, after not knowing where he was, after he's rescued, he talks more about Eleven than Will.

Yeah, as if, I mean, as if she wasn't literally a girl who showed up out of nowhere with superpowers and helped them rescue Will????, I REPEAT, RESCUE WILL. LIKE, YOU KNOW, THE REASON WHY MIKE DIDN'T CALL AN INSANE ASYLUM TO TAKE HER AWAY.

I mean, Mike gets worried, he's like, are you okay, what do I know, but right away, as soon as he cuts, he starts, we made a new friend, and she can fly cars, and she can do this, and blah, blah, blah, blah, like he's talking super mesmerized about Eleven. When, I mean, his friend just reappeared after almost dying, but yet Mike finds it more important to talk about Eleven than Will."

Yes, yes. The girl says this for sure because she's basically Mike's close friend and she asked him what he thought about the best friend who has been “his best thing” he's ever done and he basically told her that he didn't care that he showed up alive.

#byler #mike wheeler #stranger things #will byers #anti milkvan #byler nation #byler is real #byler is endgame

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thehanwen · 3 months ago

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The bat leaned, nail end down, against the frame of his bed — always ready if he needed it. The floor under it had been scratched to all hell, but who cared about that when monsters were real. The handle had been worn smooth under his hands from the many hours of practice and not practice he’d done with it.

He needed to put new grip tape on it.

The weight was different than a standard bat — for obvious reasons — and it had taken a second for Steve to get accustomed to it. But it was like an extension of his arm now. The thing wasn’t rotationally symmetrical anymore. There was a good side and a bad side and his hands spun it correctly, automatically, every time. Protecting his people meant putting the most nails into the most monster as possible with each swing.

Maintaining the weapon was another thing altogether. Bits of alternate dimension gunk got lodged in between the nails, into the grain of the wood. The nails rusted under black blood. Even all the elbow grease Steve put into it couldn’t get the nails shining like new, or unbend the dulled nail points. It was permanently stained, a monument to all it had been used for.

Sometimes he wondered if Jonathan knew what he was building by pounding those nails into a perfectly ordinary bat. Something originally made for sport — for fun — adjusted into a cruel weapon, something to rip and tear flesh. He probably hadn’t even thought about it.

Steve hadn’t thought about it either, at the time, just snatched it off the floor and swung. And kept swinging. And it had felt right, nails into monster flesh, putting himself between the threat and Nancy and Jonathan. Later, between the demodogs and Dustin and Lucas and Max.

And even later — the only time he had turned the thing on a person — between Jason’s crew and Eddie. He had been ready to use it too, ready to bathe the thing in red blood instead of black.

The impulse had crashed through him, had felt like protection at the time. He guessed it was, the threat of rusty nails ripping through muscle was enough to diffuse the situation and send the jocks running. But it scared him later. Without the monsters, without the equal and opposing potential for violence, his bat felt excessive — made him feel like the monster.

He couldn’t get rid of it, though. Couldn’t even leave the house without packing it in his trunk, safely hidden under some blankets. Couldn’t sleep without knowing it was within reach — especially if he wasn’t sleeping alone. The weight of it in his hands was still a physical comfort. He still practiced with it.

If he ever needed it again, he would have it. If he ever needed to put himself between a monster and the people he loved again, he would be ready.

#wrote this as a writing exercise and thought people might like it #steve harrington #steve harrington's nail bat #stranger things #my writing #steddie #steddie fic

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 7 months ago

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The Heart of Thago (part 1)

Young!Shanks x reader. This is part one of two. This fic is dedicated to @madbadpadawan and @fifo96!

(moodboard)

Reader is vaguely implied to be plus-size but her body is not described. Themes of physical and sexual abuse are discussed.

Part one is mainly narrated from the point of view of a different character, part two from reader's.

*****

Standing on the bow of his ship, the Princess of the Waves, Jonathan Gorham scans the horizon, a grumpy, annoyed grimace on his already not attractive face. Around him there is nothing but water as far as the eye can see, the ship having left the town many miles behind it. Between the sea and the cloudless sky -the weather couldn’t be more pleasant, the sort people choose to enjoy with an outdoor meal or a romantic stroll, especially in the middle of of a milder than average autumn- above him the world is completely blue, the ship he’s standing on nothing more than a tiny shell in the middle of that vastness.

It might be a poetic vision, at least in the eyes of a predisposed soul, and lead a man to reflect on the fragility of human life in the face of the forces of nature, or inspire an artist to reproduce that magnificent view on a canvas, using all shades of blue to paint the vastness of the sea, bathed in the sun’s light, the tiny waves lapping against the ship’s side.

Gorham is not that sort of man.

He has been waiting for barely a few minutes, according to his pocket watch he’s still technically early for the meeting he has travelled so far for, but Gorham is already trembling with impatience. He lets his gaze wander over the horizon for the umpteenth time, grimacing once more as he sees absolutely nothing, save for a solitary seagull cawing as he flies by over his head. Punctuality is more difficult to achieve for those who travel by ship than for a person who walks to places or uses a carriage, but after having summoned him there, as if he were an errand boy bringing a client’s purchases to his home, or a criminal called to a judicial hearing, the least those brutes could is not to make him wait, he thinks with resentment.

The summoning has been delivered barely forty-eight hours ago, to Gorham’s desk in his office, written in a better penmanship than he expected from a vulgar pirate, by a hand whose owner had disappeared without being seen by both the man and his employees. The message was short and peremptory: if Gorham wanted to have his ward back, he was to depart from the town two days later, bringing with him a million berry in cash, and no Den Den Mushi or weapons. The pirates would be able to tell whether their conditions had been respected, and if they weren’t the deal would be off, no second chance or reconsiderations. The Princess -they knew the name of Gorham’s ship! He didn’t even want to know what else those bastards had learnt about him- had to follow the route described at the bottom of the message and reach its destination before midday, when the pirates would meet Gorham to make the exchange.

The deal he has been forced to take part in is the real source of Gorham’s frustration, much more than the fact that a dangerous crew of pirates has kidnapped a young woman under his protection - of whom, he freely admits in the privacy of his thoughts, he cares nothing about. Those bastards are blackmailing him, extorting him a huge sum of his money to protect an investment he has been working on for over a decade.

I’ll take it back, with interest, he thinks, reassuring himself the loss is only temporary. Nevertheless, lowering himself to make a bargain with a band of sea thieves is so humiliating Gorham can barely control himself. Maybe teaching (name) not to cause him so much trouble will make him feel better, he reasons as he moves a few aimless steps up and down the ship’s bow; he could use his belt, like he used to do when the young woman was a child and disobeyed him, or even punch her in the face, and have her tell people the bruises were the pirates’ fault. Yes, that would make him feel better.

(name) is Gorham’s ward, a young woman who is today exactly twenty-nine days away from the birthday that will make her an adult according to the law of the country. She’s the only heir of an extremely wealthy family - heir and only member, since her parents, who had no other children, died when she was only nine during an epidemic that had caused many other victims. Gorham, an affluent businessman, was then made legal guardian of the girl - which mainly meant he had the responsibility to ensure (name) was kept safe, raised respectably and educated, until the day she came of age and took possession of the frankly enormous wealth her parents had left her, that until then no one, not (name) herself nor Gorham, could touch.

Gorham is not known as a man of heart, or even just an emphatic one, which is why many in town were surprised he had decided to assume responsibility for a child he hadn’t even known beforehand. The expenses for (name)’s rearing were paid from her patrimony, meticulously administered by a lawyer who had been a friend of her parents, but the guardian received no payment for his efforts. Some had speculated Gorham, who was unmarried, felt the desire for a child in his life to love and care for, while others thought that (name) had been entrusted to him by her parents, reassured by his well-known reputation as a capable businessman.

None of it is true. Gorham has reasons of his own, and while he wasn’t paid to make sure (name) was more than decently clothed and educated beyond learning to read and write, he does nothing, not even blowing his nose, if he isn’t more than sure he has something to earn from it - and since (name)’s parents have had a daughter, rather than a son, this years-long pain in the ass is going to earn him a veritable fortune

Beyond the one I seized on the first day, that is.

“Do you think they violated her?”

Gorham blinks; so immersed he was in his thoughts, he had momentarily forgotten he is not alone, and the only person who has accompanied him in that recovery mission -apart from the ship’s crew, who the pirate captain had ordered had to remain under deck- has been silent until now, more interested in the book he had brought from home than in the imminent meeting with (name)’s kidnappers.

“What?”

“(name). Do you think the pirates have abused her?” Cerric specifies, apparently more out of curiosity than of worry. The young man, two years past his own coming of age, is the son of Gorham’s sister, as well as his heir; the older man feels no particular affection for his nephew, but he needs Cerric to bring his project to completion, and because of this he took the boy under his wing years ago “I mean, I know she’s not exactly a beauty, but six months with a crew of pirates…”

Gorham winces, annoyed by the unpleasant topic his nephew has introduced. “As you said, given the sort of people we are dealing with, it seems reasonable to think that she has been mistreated.” he points out “In his letter the pirate captain swears she’s alive and in one piece, but I doubt that sort of violence was included in the definition.”

Cerric frowns unhappily - a look that makes the family resemblance to his uncle even more evident, as he sticks his hands in his pockets. “Do I still have to marry her?”

“Of course you have to.”

“But uncle, she’s ruined. Why do I have to marry a woman who is damaged goods? She’s not even pretty, it’s not fair…”

Gorham doesn’t even bat an eye as he lifts his hand and slaps his nephew hard across the face. He’s no longer a young man and he was already smaller than most when he did, but the slap hurts. A lot. A moment later, Gorham has grabbed the front of his nephew’s shirt and drawn his face so close to his own the younger man can count the hairs of his uncle’s eyebrows. It is not a pleasant sensation.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Gorham hisses; the most dangerous foe he has ever threatened is a rat that, years ago, the man surprised as the little creature munched on the corner of a sheet of paper in his study -he threw an heavy paperweight to kill the mouse, but he missed him by a metre- but as he looks back at the other man, Cerric feels himself trembling “Never, you foolish boy. Did you hear me?”

“I…”

“You, nothing. (name) is one of the wealthiest women in this country; her patrimony will be enough to support your descendents for the next eight generations! Can’t you see how much you have to gain, even though you did nothing to earn it besides having been born a male? The day that girl comes of age, you’ll marry her, and all she owns will become ours. This is the objective I have pursued ever since she was nine, and I have no intention of giving it up. You will marry her, and consummate the marriage, so that there will be no take backs or impugnations. I do not care if she has been mounted by any single man in Red-Haired Shanks’ crew; I don’t even care if she is pregnant. Do I make myself clear?”

“Hell, you hurt me…”

“Do I make myself clear, Cerric?”

For a moment the younger man seems ready to argue; then, perhaps in response to his uncle’s flaming eyes, he deflates. “Yes, uncle.” he grumbles, averting his eyes “Whatever you want, uncle.”

“Good.”

Gorham pats his nephew’s cheek, an apparently sweet gesture that feels painful on Cerric’s still tender skin; when the younger man moves to turn away, his uncle’s hand falls on his shoulder to keep him still, and a finger is lifted under his nose.

“As I said; ours.” Gorham repeats softly “I need your help with this, since it wouldn’t be proper for a guardian to marry his ward, but you’ll do well to remember who you owe everything to. You’ll be free to go on vacation, gamble, and spend your time with your whores, but I’ll take care of the money. I trust you have no objections to this.”

Cerric actually does; the thought of receiving an annuity of his own money, as if he were still too young, or stupid, to administer it himself, fills him with rage, but if he can leave his boring job in his uncle’s business and rent an apartment away from the home he’ll have to share with (name), he can be patient. In any case, he thinks resentfully as he’s finally free to walk away, rest his back against the ship’s side and return to his book, the old man is not going to live forever.

Silence falls on uncle and nephew as the sun above their heads approaches the summit of its trek. They’ll be here soon, Gorham tells himself; after all they proposed the meeting, and whatever fun Shanks and his men might have had after making (name) their plaything, a million berry is without a doubt a more attractive option. The pirate captain will give him the girl back, and he’ll make sure to beat her to within an inch from her life, and then have her ready for her wedding, which will take place as soon as she is of age.

She’s alright. Probably abused in every sense of the world -and how could she not? Unlike many of his kind Red-Haired Shanks is not famous for his lust for blood and pleasure in abusing women, but what can one expect from a pirate?- but alive and hale, adequate to walk down the aisle and exchange Cerric’s ring with the vast patrimony she inherited from her parents. She HAS to be; it can’t be otherwise, not after so many years Gorham has spent making sure (name) grew well, safe and refined and educated enough society and those who had known her parents would approve, enduring her presence in his home, her stubbornness and rebellious attitude. And if she’s not, she’s going to do it all the same.

Gorham dreaded the worst when, six months ago, the girl departed for a brief cruise and was then kidnapped after the ship had been boarded by pirates; so many years wasted, and his golden goose lost forever. Cerric would marry her even if she was no longer pure, even if she had lost a limb or had her face ruined to the point her own parents would not recognise her, but what if the pirates had done something to her that actually forbade the wedding from taking place? What if the violence and torture Shanks’ men had subjected her to had made her lose her mind, so that she would be considered unable to consent to the union? Gorham might be allowed to remain as her guardian, but what would become of her wealth, with the sole heir of the family declared incapacitated? He would never put his hands on (name)’s money, and all he has done will have been for nothing…

Well, I will see her before having to pay the ransom, won’t I? If she’s not marriageable, I may as well leave her to Shanks, and save myself the trouble…

“Uncle…”

“Shut it, Cerric.”

Could he have a document drafted in (name)’s name, making it appear it had been written by the girl herself, with which to claim she wanted him to inherit her fortune in case something happened to her? Her lawyer friend would surely challenge it, since (name) would not have been of age when the document had been written, but he had friends -and even better, debtors- at the town hall, and he could find a judge who…

“Uncle, listen…”

“Will you stop complaining, Cerric, the matter is…”

“I think they are coming!”

Those words bring Gorham instantly back to reality; looking in the direction indicated by his nephew’s pointed finger, he can see a tiny spot at the horizon, barely visible against the azure backdrop of the sky but clearly moving towards them. Finally, he thinks, allowing himself a single sigh of relief before squaring his shoulders and preparing himself for a meeting that will be as short as possible, but probably unpleasant in any case. He waits, deceptively calm, as the spot becomes a shape and then a recognisable object that gets bigger by the minute.

It’s exactly midday, both Gorham’s watch and the sun itself agree on it, when Shanks’ ship reaches the Princess, easily stopping close enough to allow a conversation between the people on the two bridges. The Princess is his owner’s pride and joy, a well built brigantine that many in town envy him, but it is completely dwarfed by the pirate ship, a large galleon with a dragon figurehead, like a donkey entered in a dressage competition; a comparison between the two ships is unfair, but Gorham bites his lip, annoyed. He feels belittled, even before he and the pirate captain find themselves face to face, and he doesn’t like it at all.

The pirate ship’s bridge is empty, save for a pair of men. The older has black hair in a ponytail, a rifle hanging from his shoulder, and a cigarette between his fingers from which he takes lazy drags as he observes the two men on the Princess, clearly unimpressed. Gorham, who has documented himself about Shank’s crew with an acquaintance he has at the local Marine base, knows he is Benn Beckman, the first officer.

The other is the captain himself.

“Mister Gorham, I suppose; good to meet you.” he cheerfully greets the older man, placing a hand on the top of his straw hat to then bow his head in greeting “My apologies for having you come all the way here.”

Shanks looks the same age as Cerric, but that is the only similarity between the two men. The pirate captain is tall, slim but strong, the bright red hair he owes his moniker to visible under his hat; he’s young but already a formidable pirate, Gorham has been told, less unnecessarily bloodthirsty than other crews but clearly dangerous, having already vanquished many foes. Gorham is aware that if the pirate captain decided to go back on the deal he had proposed, take the bounty and kidnap him and Cerric to extort even more money from them, there is nothing either man could do to oppose him; he can’t help being afraid, afraid of that vermin of the sea and his band of cutthroats, and he hates it.

“Where is (name)?” he asks, determined not to prolong that conversation any longer than he has to.

“The young lady is safe and sound, rest assured; she is unhurt, and she’ll continue to be if you have kept your part of the deal.”

Gorham wishes he could argue that deal is not the appropriate word to use, given that in their case one of the parts has unilaterally set the terms and the other -him- could do nothing but accept them, but he decides to save his breath: discussions about semantics are probably wasted on riffraff like Shanks and his men.

He wordlessly nods towards Cerric, whose lack of enthusiasm is evident as he walks away, disappearing beyond the small door leading below decks; two minutes later he is back, evidently struggling as he carries a heavy chest.

“A million berry, as you requested.” Gorham announces, while his nephew puts the chest down beside him; Shanks grins.

“I’m sure you kept your end of the bargain, as befitting an honourable man like you.” he says, sarcasm evident in his voice. Gorham wonders if as a pirate he is naturally inclined to disrespect, or the younger man is deliberately insulting him; he would have no reason to, since he and Gorham have never met before “But you’ll forgive me if I want to make sure.”

He turns towards the stern of his own ship and whistles; a few more men appear on the bridge, carrying a gangway that is quickly positioned between the two decks, allowing the red-haired man to step onto the Princess.

Shanks smiles at them, while Gorham and Cerric instinctively step back, both having noticed the sword in its sheath hanging from the pirate’s side. “Hi there.” he greets them affably, as if he had just entered a house he had been invited in for dinner; and then, as he looks all around him: “What a nice little ship.”

He sounds unexpectedly sincere, but for some reason Gorham feels those words as a humiliating insult. He forces himself to hold his tongue while Shanks reaches the chest, opens it and observes the large quantity of golden coins inside, clearly judging the sum they represent.

“I’d say it’s what we discussed.” he announces in the end; then, a moment later, he has turned towards Gorham, his hands reaching towards the older man.

“What are you…?”

“I am not going to hurt you, you have my word. I just want to… ah. What do we have here?”

After a brief search, the pirate has found the gun Gorham had hidden under his coat, making sure as he stood in front of a mirror the weapon was well concealed. Shanks takes it, looking at Gorham like a teacher who has caught his most promising student cheating during an exam.

“I had asked you to bring no weapons, mister Gorham; don’t you care about your ward’s safety?”

“You really thought I would come meet a dangerous pirate like you without taking precautions for my own safety?”

“As I said, no harm would be done to you as long as you respected my instructions. Now what? I should take the money, and keep your ward for myself; a well-bred girl like her could fetch quite a sum at the slave market of the Sabaody Archipelago.”

He actually seems to consider the option, and Gorham feels himself trembling. A million berry is a more than considerable sum, but almost nothing if compared to the wealth he will come into possession of as soon as Cerric marries (name); that damn girl is once again source of nothing but trouble, but Gorham knows he can’t give up now, less than a month away from the day he has been waiting for so long.

“Please, captain, let us not throw away all we have worked for.” he says, forcing himself to sound polite, even -ugh- friendly towards a man he would gladly see swallowed by a Sea King “The gun was only for my protection; I am an old man, and I couldn’t help fearing for my life when meeting a known pirate like you. My nephew and I are very worried about poor (name); please return her to us, so that we can bring her home.”

Shanks turns towards Cerric; the barrel of the gun the pirate is still holding does as well, making the other man jump.

“This is your nephew? Miss (name)’s future husband?”

“The very same.”

Gorham knows they shouldn’t desire to make a good impression on Shanks -who cares what the pirate thinks about them?- but he really wishes his nephew could at least straighten his back, and stop trembling; Shanks wordlessly looks at him, clearly unimpressed. “A very sweet deal for you both, I’m sure.” he comments “Throw your gun into the sea and I’ll overlook your little transgression.”

It takes his uncle’s dirty look to convince a clearly reticent Cerric to comply. Now they are really helpless, Gorham thinks; it’s a situation he doesn’t like, at all.

“Now it’s your turn, captain Shanks.”

“Very well.”

Shanks turns to share a look with his first mate, who nods wordlessly towards the men who have brought the gangway; they disappear, presumably to return under deck, and then return two minutes later, a crying woman held tight between them as she screams.

“Let me go! Let me go, please…!”

(name) looks nothing like the young woman who habitually patronised the most elegant tea rooms of the town, and strolled down the harbour with her parasol open to protect her from the sun’s harsh rays. Her elegant dress, bought in one of the town’s most expensive boutiques -she had at least a dozen of them, because she liked being up to date with the latest fashions and her lawyer friend was more than generous with the allowance she received, having pointed out that a young woman of (name)’s class deserved to be more than decently clothed. Gorham had found no way to oppose this waste of money, resentfully calculating the loss his capital was suffering every time his ward went out shopping- is torn into pieces, grime and dirt soiling the delicate fabric, her hair dirty and unkempt, her face bruised and streaked with tears; she’s barefoot. She struggles as the men roughly manhandle her across the ship’s deck, clearly too weak to escape; a scream erupts from her lips when the young woman sees the two men on the Princess’s deck.

“Mister Gorham! Cerric! For God’s sake, help me, please…!”

“Shut it, you.” Shanks brusquely barks at her, and the mere sound of his voice is enough to make the young woman cower and shiver; the pirates’ laugh fills the air “As promised, mister Gorham; your ward, alive and hale.”

“She’s not exactly in the same conditions as the last time I saw her, I think.” Gorham objects; he’s not especially interested in whatever abuse the young woman may have suffered, and since she’s alive and lucid enough to recognise him he’s confident there will be no opposition to her wedding, but the thought that he’s paying a million berry for a woman who would not look out of place in the seediest brothels of the town is frustrating.

Shanks shrugs, clearly even less interested in his prisoner’s well being. “You try keeping a crew of thirty men calm with a young woman on board; I had to let the boys spend a bit of time with her, or I would have had a full-blown mutiny at my hands.” he points out “But she shouldn’t be pregnant, so you won't have a little bastard on your hands.”

Those words have the power to make (name) weep even louder; she crumbles to the ship’s deck when the pirates let her go, and now she's crying inconsolably, the sound, Gorham thinks with distaste, as pleasant as the scratching of nails on a blackboard. “If you only knew what they did to me.” the young woman laments “Every day, for hours… and when I tried fighting back they left me without food…”

“Well, you did need to lose a few pounds, didn’t you, miss?”

“You animal! You-you bastard! You have no heart, God will punish you for what you have done!”

He’s been in her presence for a minute and Gorham is already fed up with the girl’s whining; he looks at her, sobbing pitifully in her dirty dress, and wonders how long the pirates had been without seeing a woman, if they had welcomed her presence on their ship. “Please give her back to us, captain.” he says, already dreading the next hours; he knows already (name) will cry and wail until they bring her home.

Shanks nods; a gesture is made towards the pirates, and Beckman grabs (name)’s arm to pull her to her feet, and then pushes her towards the gangway. “Come on, walk.”

Trembling, and clearly unsteady on her feet, (name) looks terrified as she observes the thin, fragile platform providing a passage between the two ships.

“If you please, miss.” Shanks invites her with a mocking bow; (name) glares at him -not that it looks very threatening, given her sorry state- and then looks at the gangway once more, as if judging its solidity.

“I can’t…!”

“Of course you can. Come on, your guardian is waiting for you.”

“No, I… I’m afraid of heights. I can’t do it, I’ll fall in the water…”

Shanks grins. “In that case I’ll come to fish you out personally; would you like that? Maybe you can repay me with a kiss…”

“You monster, don’t you dare…!”

“Alright, I’ve had enough.” Gorham barks. He had promised himself he would not lose his temper in front of the pirates, but he has already spent a million berries to save that idiotic girl, not to mention the years he has been forced to share his house with her and deal with her stubbornness and lack of respect; it is almost satisfying to see her like this, reduced to silence and begging for help, not to mention her money will finally be his in less than a month, but the longer he is forced to listen to her crying, the more he wishes he could silence her with a slap or a dozen “(name), get on that gangway and come here.”

The young woman shakes her head, as if trying to deny the truth in front of her, the perceived danger posed by the water, as she hugs herself. “Mister Gorham, please, I can’t…”

“Come here, I said! I am sick and tired of your crying, if you’re not here within two minutes I swear I’ll leave you here with the pirates!”

He wouldn’t, of course, not when the golden goose is so close to give him all her eggs, but the girl can’t know - or maybe she does, since she’s been told for years she’ll have to marry Cerric as soon as she comes of age, a prospect she is clearly not thrilled about since she has said several times she considers her fiancé a sorry excuse for a man. Still, whatever reticence she had about her wedding has disappeared after six months in Shanks’ -and his men’s- care.

Satisfied, Gorham sees (name) step on the gangway and, stumbling a bit as she desperately tries not to look down, cross it in the direction of the Princess; from the way she moves it’s clear she’s sore - Gorham doesn’t need to wonder from what sort of activity. Behind her, the pirates wave their hand derisively, whistling when a sudden gust of wind lifts the young woman’s skirt.

“I’ll remember your tits for the rest of my life, girl!” one of them cries to her, much to the amusement of the others. As soon as she’s safe on the Princess’s deck, (name) walks past Shanks, who quickly slaps her behind. She glares at him, but that measly act of rebellion seems to be everything she has the strength for; she bursts into tears again, collapsing in Cerric’s arms. He, clearly unhappy with the closeness, lowers her to the deck and quickly steps away, leaving her alone to sob loudly; Gorham, exasperated, really wishes he could kick her in the backside to make her shut up - and maybe he will, he promises himself, as soon as they’re home, or at least on the way back.

A minute later, Beckman has also crossed the gangway to step on the Princess; both Gorham and Shanks look on as the first mate effortlessly lifts the chest with (name)’s ransom and carries it back to the pirate ship, to the cheering of the other men.

Shanks grins, openly satisfied as he bows his head towards Gorham, a hand resting on the top of his straw-hat. “It was a pleasure making business with you, sir.”

“I really wish I could say the same, captain.” Gorham can’t help answering “To think that you have such a positive reputation for a pirate; and yet you’re exactly like the rest of them, a brute who kidnaps innocent women and leaves their families destitute to ransom them.”

Shanks looks at him, clearly unimpressed. It only now dawns on Gorham that having taken his money the pirate, who still has his gun in his hand as well as his own sword, could easily kill him, and Cerric. The older man only has a moment to regret opening his mouth, before realising the red-haired pirate is grinning, openly amused.

“Alas, you are right.” he says, a hand on his heart as if Gorham’s words had pained him “I like to think I am a man of honour, but it takes a lot of berry to feed a crew, and unfortunately we are running quite low on funds. Your ward offered us the chance to put away quite a bit of money… as well as to enjoy the company of a woman for the first time in months; at least if she wanted to eat at least once a day. Thanks to you, we have more than enough to live on for a while; we are deeply grateful, truly. I bid you farewell; perhaps we will meet again one day.”

Gorham dearly wishes they won’t; that unpleasant morning trip has already cost him a million berry -that he’ll soon recuperate after (name) and Cerric’s wedding, but still- and a throbbing headache, and he’ll be happy to never meet, and never hear about, Shanks again.

He remains still as the pirate captain returns to his own ship and then has the gangway pulled back; he turns to smile at the trio on the Princess’s deck, and Gorham looks away, supremely fed up with the whole matter.

“Let us go.” he orders as he turns and starts in the direction of his cabin, anxious to release the crew from their confinement and order the captain to lead them home. Cerric is quick to follow, while (name) remains where she is, no longer sobbing but perfectly still as she regards the pirate ship, and the red-haired man who looks back at her, equally unmoving on the bridge.

“Come, (name).” Gorham orders.

Silence.

“Have you not heard me? Move, girl!”

Cerric brusquely grabs her by the arm to haul her to her feet; startled, (name) lowers her face and follows the two men, arms wrapped around her torso as if to protect herself from a cold she cannot feel. She turns to glance once more behind her; a moment later she has disappeared below deck.

On the pirate ship, the celebration has ended; all the eyes are trained on the captain, whose gaze is in turn still fixed on the Princess, so intense one could actually believe he could see beyond the walls.

Beckman’s hand gently rests on his shoulder. “It’s going to be alright, captain.” he murmurs, almost soothing as he tries to offer the comfort they all know the younger man needs.

“I know.”

Shanks sighs. “Let us go, boys.” he orders as he turns to his men, his usually sunny expression having darkened suddenly; only a few minutes later both ships have departed, leaving the agreed place for the meeting empty, nothing more than a stretch of sea populated by gently rolling waves and the cries of seagulls.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks x reader #Shanks x reader #Peter Gadiot #Bellona's stuff

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vickyvicarious · 2 years ago

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Good observation that Dracula's great grimness at informing Jonathan that they must part soon changing to his usual smoothness when Jonathan refuses to return to his room as dictated. Or gives Dracula the pleasure to go "before we part and before you become one of us let's play one more time, lets see you walk back into my arms from danger once more, for good this time". Maybe he even expected this small rebellion from Jonathan, knowing him. Especially after he dared scale his walls. It's more satisfying to "earn" Jonathan's submission. An unbreakable will bending to his is sweeter.

I think Dracula absolutely loves Jonathan's stubbornness... but only with the caveat that he is in control of the situation and can prey upon it. This response is extremely belated, but I kind of like answering it now because I think Dracula's treatment of Renfield so far, as opposed to Jonathan, is so revealing. He's ignoring Renfield completely. He has no interest in him at all. Because Renfield wants to be with Dracula. And Dracula doesn't care to spend his time with people who want to be around him; he's only interested in forcing his company upon those who don't want it. It's a huge part of the fun for him.

If someone like... Seward, for example, had been sent to Castle Dracula, he wouldn't have lasted anywhere near as long. Because I think he would be too enticed/interested in the vampires, and thus he'd bore Dracula a lot faster by being too willing or even eager to play along. Then again, someone who refused to play along at all would get boring very quickly too - if they don't submit and play his game he'll force them into submission with violence and that'll be the end of it. Jonathan managed to thread the needle perfectly with playing along on the surface while still constantly trying to resist behind the scenes. It was interesting and fun, a challenge that never made Dracula feel truly threatened. (Of course, he didn't realize the full extent of Jonathan's resistance/that he did have cause to be threatened...)

And he loved it! He was having so much fun! He got to genuinely enjoy Jonathan's company, but also enjoy how little Jonathan enjoyed his company and how he couldn't do anything about that. He got to keep pushing and pushing and pushing him and watch Jonathan almost break again and again but still just keep bending. To tempt him into disobeying and then punish him for it. To force him to rely on Dracula himself for protection and thus stick even closer the more endangered he gets. He gets to work for it, while at the same time never actually facing real risk other than losing his new toy (and Jonathan always settled down in the end, always let the game continue). ...And then he had to call it quits, because he had a schedule to keep. Yeah, I think he was genuinely kind of upset about that. And so when he got the idea for the wolves, he cheered way up again.

Because Dracula was able to offer Jonathan exactly what he claimed he wanted, but in such a way that they both knew he would never accept it. Instead, he forced Jonathan into a situation where he was forced to "choose" Dracula instead, one last time and more definitively than ever before. It was the perfect way to end their time together. Well, except one final victory - 'rewarding' Jonathan's choice by honoring it with one last night together, with delaying no longer and finally drinking from him.

Contrast all of that to Dracula's complete disinterest in Renfield, despite his avowed goal of conquering England and spreading vampirism here. You'd think a servant who willingly came to him would be helpful for that. But no, because Renfield came to him truly willingly, wanted to enter freely and of his own accord.

Dracula likes the kind of person who enters freely and of their own accord... because they're alone in the wilderness with wolves at their back. He likes those who stay because doing otherwise would be their certain death. He likes those who don't want this (who struggle and struggle, who have an unbreakable will) and yet are forced by him into accepting anyway.

An unbreakable will who bends at his command - that's how Dracula saw Jonathan, and he loved him for it. Right up until the point he decided he was finished, and acted to break him once and for all anyway.

#dracula daily #count dracula #jonathan harker #renfield #anonymous #replies #LITTLE DID HE KNOW THOUGH #sure he broke him a little but not completely. jonathan made it out and now he's got mina #my meta

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oceanfruitsstuff · 3 months ago

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Here’s my take when it comes to the thoughts of Will with a gun or punching someone or anything along those lines.

Will is such a complex character. He is sensitive, artistic, kind, and gentle. But when talking about season 5, I would love to see so much more anger from him. The Upside Down has taken so much from him and so much from the people he loves—anger and violence would make sense. I’m not saying I care either way, I’m just saying when I see people say it is out of character, I completely respect that take—but, I don’t necessarily believe it is. He doesn’t need to like it, no one really does. Not one of the characters is enjoying their time in this end of the world situation. I think seeing that more rage filled side of Will, no matter what that may look like, delves deeper into his character. Because we have seen the outbursts from him, too. His actions are very emotion driven. But even talking about destroying Castle Byers, he’s a perfect display of how “violence” is used differently throughout the show depending on the character.

We know just from season one Will is extremely resilient and intelligent. He knows how to use a gun. We can infer from what Johnathan said, he learned from Lonnie. Do we know exactly how Will feels about Guns? No we don’t really, but we can assume there’s a similarity. I highly doubt he likes them, no one does—cause you’re not supposed to. Will wouldn’t be picking up a gun or throwing a punch in an attempt to look badass, it would be purely survival or emotional. Will is bound to be angry in season 5. They all will do anything to survive and protect eachother. Again, I have no idea what’s gonna happen, but I think having Will use a weapon or get in a fight or whatever it may be would be so interesting for his character. Not saying he’d win or be good at it, but seeing Will in that first season thinking very well under pressure. He did all the right things, he put that gun together with very little flaw, he found ways to communicate and survive in the upside down. He’s in no way unable to take care of himself. In my eyes he’s definitely a badass—not some superhero dramatic one, but a strong and intelligent character. And from my own thoughts, I’d never wanna use a weapon or hurt someone else, but if it was down to saving myself and my family from a monster that’s been tormenting me for years? Yeah I’d definitely start swinging no matter if I hit my target or not.

Jonathan and Joyce are also gentle characters and them throwing punches and using weapons doesn’t take that away from them. Lucas is also a very gentle character. Their actions have meaning behind them, it’s not just cause. I completely respect everyone’s take on how they feel about Will using weapons or punching or whatever it may be. He’s not real, and is allowed to exist freely in everyone’s mind or fanmade creations in whatever way you want. But if you don’t like it, that is so so fine and just as valid as any other take.

I’m not saying I desperately wanna see it either, I think it would be so amazing without, too. All I’m saying is it would, to me, make sense.

And at the end of the day, it’s all for the edits—

(Just kidding)

#byler

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neverthebabysitter · 6 months ago

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The spin-off everyone wants of stobin working different jobs but make it through all the canon. MAKE THEM BE FRIENDS EARLIER.

I love platonic soulmates stobin and them becoming friends before canon??? Yes please. Please give those two more years of happines and friendship and being stupid teenagers together.

Maybe not exactly friends friends at the beggining, yk, like the dynamic they had in scoops before everything went cataplum-boom-bla-aaaaaa. And bond like stray cats with interwined souls.

They working at Benny's dinner in the first season, being the ones to found El, freaking out and bickering the whole time about what to do because that’s a child, that’s almost 100% an abused and probably now homeless child, wtf.

I know Benny barely appeared like 10 minutes in screen MAX (and i'm being generous) but i love that man and in this universe he survives thanks to those one-braincell-sharing dinguses.

They being the ones to take care of El and protect her, they know they should call cps but hey, when they tried to call she found out and throw the phone with her mind so they supposed that isn't an option now.

Robin bringing a photo of Will by accident, Jonathan and Joyce sharing it with everybody just in case and El going "i know where he is" So they suppose are going to search for a missing kid now, ig.

They bumping into the Party and everything snowballing from there.

Steve still ends up hitting a demogorgon with a nailbat btw. And losing their jobs. How? Idk, probably they quit because the feds are keeping a close eye on them and they don't want to make trouble for Benny, who knows. (The real reason is that Robin accidentally broke the machine to make milkshakes and is too afraid to tell Benny so they run off before someone figures it out)

Then they went to get a job at the Hawk, i know that in Rebel Robin it said she worked there for a while but i'm not sure when or in what so let's just say it was at this time.

You can think in a lot of little things they would get up to, like annoying couples in the middle of make up sessions, eating the pop corns that nobody bought at the end of their shifts, snuck in movies that nobody went to see when they have slow shifts and laugh out loud for how bad they are, etc.

Then the second season happens and the mall is open. The Hawk has to fire people because there’s not enough money and ended up being Steve and Robin, who had guess.

Now everyone knows what happen after that, scoops ahoy and family video.

Just let them be silly in different jobs together.

#steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #jobs #stranger things #eleven hopper #eleven stranger things #the party #benny hammond

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batmanfruitloops · 2 years ago

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Jonathan is very protective of his friends (a healthy amount). He's never had real friends who care about him and look forward to seeing him as often as possible. People who like it when he's happy and are unbothered by his appearance and interest. People would miss him horribly should anything happen to him. People who make him feel loved. He may seem aloof to their affections sometimes and loves to tease and bother them, he doesn't really know how to handle it. Though they understand his weird way of returning their love. His quiet kind gestures, the little trinkets and items he gifts, his habit of therapizing them when they are distressed, and of course his willingness to put himself in harms way, to give his own life to keep them safe. He is not losing these relationships he cherishes so deeply.

-Fluffy

#Their friendship means so much to me #dc #batmanfruitloops #batman #batman rogues #anewgothamau #batman villains #scarecrow #riddler #mad hatter #edward nigma #jonathan crane #jervis tetch #dork squad

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ladypiscesmoon · 4 months ago

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Year ahead Matt Bomer&Jonathan Bailey

What do they have to release from 2024?

Matt: Guardian angel for winter (your inner time is often taken up with problems that belong to others. Use your wisdom and the angelic energy to prioritize your own needs) Matt should achieve to have a more satisfying life. Taking a step forward is difficult and frightful, but he should do it anyways. In 2024 he didn't chose what his heart desires. He needs to acknowledge his own needs before the needs of others. He's at a point of development, and he should allow it to happen for him. Mushroom fairy (step into the light to rejoice and celebrate all the good there is in you) Why would he allow himself to hide and not giving himself the life he would like to live?This life he has now gives him often the feeling that he's inadequate. He feels guilty for wanting other things. But in a way he's denying to take care of himself and his wants and needs. He can not analyze his own actions properly if he always sees his own shortcomings) Jonathan: Garden of the sun and the moon (the change you seek maybe outside your comfort zone. Ask for the strength to help you move forward) Jonathan often intend to do things that will help him life his personal life in a happier way, yet when it comes to change he's not good at taking the actual step to that happier life. That's a step outside his comfort zone. He has to allow himself the strength to enable himself to feel more equipped to change. Apparently he likes to do things he feels safe doing. In a way that holds him back. Winter fairy (now is the time to move thinking on to a higher level. You are equipped to do more than you have contemplated, and you will succeed) Step out of the shadows and transform your thinking, because in the past he has considered himself unworthy. He's got such a great aura, Jonathan. I think Jonny has told Matt what he wanted at some point, but with Matt being the one in a marriage, Jonny backed off. I feel he is not going to fight for Matt, if Matt decides not to take a leap.

Overall feeling 2025 for both Matt and Jonathan

Attraction (pansy) They align well with each other. Romance is on both their minds but the energy also helps building an even stronger friendship. They should relax into what is happening naturally between the two of them. Hesitation and over-thinking though, could cause blockages, such as delaying decisions. Both have to watch out for personal deception and gossip about the two of them. Vitality (fig) They should look at what is going on between the two of them with fresh eyes. Every day they have a chance of a new beginning, but they have to need to jump up and work on it. Several thoughts though: someone may be bringing trouble between them and they should protect themselves. I also feel that Jonathan tries to protect himself by backing off. He would very much like to see that Matt will fight for him. He is afraid people will say he's a home wrecker because Matt is married. On the other hand, Matt doesn't acknowledge that he would very much like if Jonathan fought for him too. Jonathan backing off makes Matt insecure. He's really afraid that he will end up without Jonathan anyways, if he takes the leap to leave his marriage. Boar (pig) They should have more confidence in their connection and face the problems together courageously. Only then this relationship will work. Taking action, talking about how they would tackle the problems. Despite their longing for each other and the deep feelings they have, the marriage is a real obstacle. Matt thinking : yeah, but I am married, Jonathan thinking: yeah, he's married, isn't helping them, it creates an impasse. Together they are strong, but I'm not sure if they understand that their strength lies in their togetherness. Polar bear They both should set up boundaries up for others, because others will respect those boundaries. Stand their ground when they are tested, be clear and don't apologize they want to be together if that's what they truly desire.

What stops Matt from taking that leap to leave his marriage?

Self blame/fear of incompatibility/lack mentality/unhealthiness

Matt goes back and forth in his head: "I shouldn't want this, it's not right to do. I hurt others. Jonathan shouldn't be dragged into my mess. My feelings, my problem."

He's also afraid that if he leaves his safer option (the marriage he has known for a long time) it will not work out with Jonathan. He's afraid they will and up fighting or break-up. He thinks his true desires are a luxury problem. He should be satisfied with what he has: Jonathan's love and friendship. He thinks these intense feelings for Jonathan are maybe unhealthy, because he has never felt like this before. He's also a bit scared Jonathan will not love him back as much as Matt loves Jonathan.

Is Jonny backing off a bit?

Not being open to receive love/self pity/past disappointments/walls of protection around heart

Jonathan seems to hesitate sometimes if waiting for Matt to decide what he wants is worth it. He thinks that Matt is not fully opening uptown receive his love. I feel he doesn't want to be with someone who is not giving it his all. Jonny is afraid that he will lose Matt anyways, even if he ends up fighting for him. Ironically, that's the same fear Matt has. To lose Jonathan anyways.

Jonathan also feels a bit pathetic how much he longs for Matt. He's a grown man, not a teenager anymore. Past disappointments in former relationships have put some walls around his heart. He wants to protect himself. What if he gives them a go and Matt is not going to choose him anyway?

Light/Shadow Tarot

Matt:

The sun (Jonathan seems to bring out something in Matt he rarely allows himself to do. It's light and happy feelings, because Jonathan is a sunny person) Six of cups (Matt is grateful for the times he and Jonathan spent together and he thinks about how he could have that again.) 3 of wands (Matt knows what he feels, it's only a scary thought, because he always play safe in his life (until now, that is)) the High Priestess (But he's on this journey that has opened his eyes, and he will come to the conclusion that he wants to be happy. I know not everybody sees it my way that this will be a good thing for Matt, regardless of him and Jonathan having either a short, or a long relationship, or never coming together because Matt will be too late. Nobody should be unhappy. Jonathan came in his life to teach him how to choose himself. He will not forget that man, even if it would never come to anything. I do think it will happen, but I'm not sure if they will stay together forever. ) Jonathan: Page of wands (the connection with Matt seems to be just as important to Jonathan as to Matt. He has to learn to not be led by past disappointments. He has to acknowledge he's enough and special enough to be chosen. Because he sometimes think that he comes second, also in Matt's life) Ten of swords (I think Jonathan has had his share of bad relationships, that he sometimes prefer to give up, before the other person can hurt him. He seems to need some space at the moment. Working is a good distraction. Matt gives him some space, they seem to understand both how to do that for each other effortlessly)

Month for month:

January The star (hope, promises, faith, rejuvenation, rebuilding, healing, clarity) Cut down (cutting out, separation, stop the pattern, silent treatment) Pay attention to signs (the synchronicities you have been noticing are not coincidences) Both giving each other some space to figure out what they want. But still on each other's mind. February 5 of cups reversed (acceptance, moving on, forgiveness, finding peace, contentment) Healing heart (healing heartbreak, toxicity or addiction, abusive relationship) Different paths (you are not on the same path with the person you have in mind, the directions you want to move into are different) Focusing more on the different lives they life, seeing too many obstacles (marriage, different countries, Jonathan wanting children etc), giving each other space to think. March Queen of swords (self-sufficient, perceptive, strong will, wit, head over heart, total honesty) Shock (sudden change, shocking news&epiphany, transformation) Redirect your thoughts (focus on what you want to attract in this relationship, not on what you fear will happen) There seems to be a shift. Something will happen, maybe Matt will finally choose to let go and leave Simon, or something else happens, like seeing each other and knowing that they can't let go. April The chariot (self-control, change, action, success, moving forward, discipline, journey) Cupid's arrow (have faith, love is coming, surprise invitation, struck by love) Leave your fears behind (they are stopping this relationship from blossoming) They seem to reconnect in this month and trying to leave the fears behind and take a chance. May King of cups (emotional control, balance, leader, generosity, compassion, supportive) Coffee cup (meeting& talking, savoring the moment, feeling elevated, building friendship) Divine timing (be patient while things are unfolding, this connection is worth the wait) Things seem to be a bit strained in this month, but they try have each others back and trying to hope that everything will unfold as it should be. Meeting up and talking a lot, but I'm not sure if we are going to see it. June The high priestess (inner voice, intuition, divine truth, wisdom, mystery, trust yourself) The dragonfly (light-hearted&adapt, finding out&change, things coming to light&heal) Boundaries (you need to teach people how to treat you by being clear on what you will or won't allow) Go with the flow, being happy. Setting boundaries, because people are always going to give an opinion and there are a lot of people who don't want them to be together. July The devil reversed (release, restoring control, recovery, independence) Clock (needing time, cycles&takes time, time to heal, progressing) Letting go (someone leaves you confused more than comforted, you need to reassess their access to you) Having some doubts, minor complications and arguments either with each other, or with others. Giving each other the space they both need. August 9 of cups (contentment, wishes come true, abundance, good health, enjoyment) Seduction (attraction, teasing, hooking-up&date, third party, temptation) Patience (some things still need to be dealt with for this connection to manifest) Enjoying their connection at first, later someone coming between them. They need to let go of some things if they will replay be together. The third party could also be Simon, but I won't know until I have done Matt's and Simon's year ahead

September Ace of cups (intuition, proposal, new relationship, new baby, creativity, new feelings) The chaser (fear of abandonment, chasing, codependency) Take a leap of faith (only when you're willing to step out of your comfort zone will you reap great rewards) Jonathan having doubts if this is going to be what he wants. Matt chasing Jonathan because he doesn’t want to lose him. Asking him to take a leap of faith. October Queen of cups reversed (martyrdom, insecurity, dependance, addiction, smothering, fragile, needy) Picture (looking at pictures, missing you, nostalgia, make new memories) Nothing has gone wrong (trust the process, this connection is divinely timed) Feeling out of sorts without each other. Missing each other, wanting to build a future November Page of cups (happy surprise, dreamer, new love, invitation, naivety, idealism, sensitivity) Passion (insane chemistry, sparks &having fun, equal interest, burning desire) Have faith (the angels are working behind the scene to make this relationship flourish) Having a lot of chemistry together. Growing together December 9 of swords reversed (hope, reaching out for help, shame, secrets, recovery, mental health issues) Paradise (happiness& joy, playfulness, enjoying each other, honeymoon phase) You are enough (the person you are meant to be with will love you the way you are, you don't need to change) Hoping to grow and be together. Enjoying each other, but still not completely out in the open. Honeymoon phase. Knowing that you’re enough for the other

2025 overall (Lenormand)

Coffin (ending/sad time), birds (comings and goings, small problems, misunderstandings), fish (finances, money, investments, resources, business, sales)

Tower (cooperations, large buildings, bureaucracy), rider (good news, success, victory, dreams realized), stork (pregnancy, change, delivery)

Child (children, child, something new), stars (dreams, fame, encouragement, destiny), letter (written exchanges, results, document, message, instructions, mail)

Combinations and Thoughts -Death of grandparents, closing a social media account, ghosting. -Closed bank accounts, forgotten resources, empty exchanges. -Business chat, audience coming from social media, natural flow of communication, natural flow of gossip. -Legal message, legal information -Move of premise, aiming for change, aiming to get pregnant. -Money from the government, liquidating a company, liquidating assets, counting on legislation, counting on something becoming official. Could be literally someone dying, but I think it has to do with an ending. Could be the divorce. Someone moving, probably Matt. There will be some gossip if they would decide to come out of a couple -New relationship with someone who is immature or notably younger than you. -Beginning of clarity, start of manifestations; fame for a short amount of time. -small letter; short letters; uncomplicated information; innocent communication. I feel they will be starting something together, but there will be doubts, and obstacles. But they very much want to make it work. Jonathan feels he could be there for Matt, like no one ever have before, Matt can help Jonathan to slow down a bit. The younger-older part makes also sense, because there is an age gap between them.

Angel cards 101 : starting over (intelligence. dynamics, making a difference, failures, personal or spiritual development) Growth and progress, new beginnings. They enter a period of happiness, love and contentment. They achieve this if they have good communication 5555: clarity (great transformation, major changes, opportunity, fast pace forward, process) It's clear Matt has to take the leap or this relationship with Jonathan will not come to fruition. They have to power up honest communication, but I also feel that Matt has to do that with Simon. 222 :alignment (connections, friendships, romantic relationships, family ties, balance, life, choices, compromise, commitment, trust) This is the sign of a soulmate. I've always said they are soulmates. Mend to teach each other something in life. They have to acknowledge the other is loyal and trustworthy so they should take to show each other their appreciation. Both have to trust their intuition and maintain a positive mindset to make this work. 1717: Drama alert (independence, soul mission, alone time, healing, aspirations) Love is not about perfection, it's about embracing each other's flaws and accepting them unconditionally. Even old relationships ended badly, in a fresh, new one they both have to their fears about love in general. Because they would hold back from loving unconditionally. No relationship is perfect, its the imperfections what makes the loved one authentic and unique and both Matt and Jonathan should embrace this.

Messages:

Left:Matt, right: Jonathan

This concludes the year ahead for Matt and Jonny. If you have questions or comments, please let me now.

This reading is alleged/ for entertainment purposes.

#celebrity tarot #year ahead #year 2025 #matt bomer #jonathan bailey

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