#Pass Lake Road East

[stupidfuckingwindow]

highkey wondering if you’d do any kind of smut where ken is actually a cowboy? 🤠

Campfire // Ken

Notes: Thanks, RDR2, for giving me slight help w the setting. I read too much Arthur Morgan porn. I loved writing this, thank you for requesting it.

Content/warnings: Technically public. Ken jerks off in the woods and has no idea you're watching.

Word count: 833

The morning of December 18th, 1899 was particularly freezing. Snow packed on top of roofs, so tightly pressed together that it became hard; almost so like ice. But the nights and mornings got harder and worse in the north- Way up in the mountains and stuck in some dead little abandoned mining town near a frozen-over lake. Run up here by the law for a robbery turned out to be a set-up was something you had regretted deeply, cold long having seeped past your skin, and powdery snow falling through small cracks in your wooden shelter. The move had brought chaos- Separated you from your gang until you were lost.

The only solace brought to you is the man who'd stumbled upon your camp. Neatly combed blond hair and a pretty, shaved face was Ken- Some little outlaw from some ways east, wanted alive for a few meager thefts and no gang of his own (or, so he'd told you, anyway). You'd seen a couple posters warning folk, his bounty a good 30ish dollars across one to two states. Ken is suspiciously too sweet and naive for an outlaw- Taking everything you told him as gospel. You force your worry down your throat and run with his all too trusting attitude, noting the gun on his hip. But if push comes to shove, you suppose you and Ken will shoot each other and bleed out in the cold if you have to.

He insisted on following you back to your gang in the following days, when the law's frenzy was beginning to die down and before bounty hunters would start prowling the roads in search of their next payload.

Ken is surprisingly quiet, as his horse trails a little ways back from yours. His curious nature draws his attention to every noise, focus darting all over the place between what few creatures are out and about. He doesn't ask you anything about all the new little things- Ken lets his eyes do all the prying and studying. He watches as the trees change along the way, forests going from the cold-resistant pines to leafless willows and oaks. He gets especially excited when the two of you pass any wild horses, and only then does he ramble on about all the pretty colors and different kinds of species. About how his favorite kinds of horse are the fast race horse species, so he can travel better and see everything.

Over the course of three days, you and Ken are forced to camp together. While you make the fire, Ken sets up the tent with practiced ease, like he'd done this a thousand times over. And he probably has, you think. The heavy storm clouds have you and he anxious, huddling in his small tent together with the heat of the campfire warming the both of you.

He gains confidence once the clouds roll past without rain, climbing out of the tent to better sit by the fire. He sticks a sliver of some big game animal's meat on the end of his knife, holding it close to the flames in order to cook it. Ken offers you a piece, and you take it. Still, despite his kindness, you're suspicious. Worried he might hurt you, and cautious he'll try if you sleep in the same tent as him. You don't say a word to Ken as you lay on your side, back facing him and revolver close by.

But your attention is caught and you're startled awake hours later, in the depths of midnight.

Ken's climbed out of his own sleeping bag, gone. Panic strikes you, seeing as his boots are gone from the tent entrance. Your worry is dampened only slightly by the sight of his horse still being here, but there are still worse dangers in these woods for him to just be alone. As you clamber out of the small sleeping space, you spot tracks in the dirt- Undeniably Ken's trail. The longer you follow his tracks, the more you hear it.

Groans that he probably thinks are quiet. Whines and moans that were probably supposed to be muted or muffled but aren't. And when you finally see him, he's lit by the soft golden glow of his lantern, eyes shut tightly and erection in hand. Ken's mouth hangs open, quietly panting. His strokes are slow and sweet- Methodical as his long fingers squeeze gently at his cock. Ken's bangs fall over his eyes as he hunches over himself. When his eyes do flutter open again, they're fixated on the way his hand moves.

His hips buck against his hand ever so often, palm curling further around his cock. His thumb rubs at the sensitive tip, swiping a bead of pre-cum from the slit to use it as lube. Again, he whines at the feeling. A shuttering breath leaves him, head falling back and hitting the tree he's propped himself up against.

You can't look him in the eye in the morning.

[knight-elkwarden]

Carpet Drakes are a group of mostly aquatic ambush hunting hexapods found throughout the rivers and lakes of Har Fang. They are believed to be physiologically very similar to the first hexapods of millions of years ago.

While more common and diverse to the west of the continent, some species are still found in modest numbers to the east.

Giant Carpet Drake

Giant Carpet Drakes are found exclusively in the Musonese river basin, where the wide, murky, slow moving water offers them the best environment for their ambush hunting lifestyle. Despite their size and rather clumsy looking body, these giants are capable of surprising bursts of speed and have been known to capsize boats.

They readily see humans as prey, though they tend to back off if they realize their cover has been blown. Sometimes hunted by dragons.

Stubby Carpet Drake

A relatively small species. These drakes live in fast flowing rivers and streams, where they can easily anchor themselves to the riverbed with their long hooked claws. They are most often seen at higher elevations and in colder water, though they are very hardy and can survive a wide range of temperatures.

Not particularly dangerous to humans, but they will bite and scratch if they feel threatened.

Common Carpet Drake

The most widespread of the carpet drake species, hence the name. It is believed that it has either multiple subspecies or is multiple closely related species. These animals are found in almost any freshwater habitat and are extremely hardy creatures.

Not domesticated, but certain riverside communities have managed to tame some individuals. Caution should still be exercised when handling them since their bite is strong enough to sever fingers.

Musonese Carpet Drake

Despite the name, these creatures can be found outside of the Musonese river basin, though they are most common within it. They have a narrower body to help them navigate their often flooded and dense with foliage homes. They live only in warm and wet habitats on the western side of the continent.

Naturally skittish, but can be tamed pretty easily with enough patience.

Nyrian Carpet Drake

These carpet drakes inhabit the dry savannas and deserts of Har Fang, particularly Nyr, but neighboring regions also have populations of these creatures. The only known carpet drake species to aestivate, cocooning themselves in clay and water to stave off desiccation until the rains return and fill the watering holes.

Aggressive and will attack careless humans.

Kelp Stalker

Found wherever kelp forests exist. These derived drakes are the only known carpet drakes that lives exclusively in salt water. These ambush predators hide in the kelp to catch passing fish and other small prey. Closely related to the River Stalker and other free swimming carpet drakes.

Curious about humans and will follow them around sometimes, but tends to avoid dragons.

River Stalker

Fast swimming drakes native to the eastern side of the continent. Only known carpet drake that isn't an ambush predator. Highly social creatures, they are known to hunt in bands consisting of a dozen individuals. They can tolerate brackish waters, but are most comfortable in fresh waters.

Tends to avoid humans and dragons whenever possible.

Dwarf Carpet Drake

Found almost anywhere with fresh water. Thought of as something of a pest in cities, where they infest wells and crawl along roads during heavy rains. In the wild they feed mostly on small fish, insects, insect larvae and generally anything else they can fit in their mouths.

City dwelling dwarf carpet drakes are somewhat bold and will bite if provoked, but in the wild they are extremely skittish. Sometimes harvested by humans and dragons for their magical properties and general abundance.

Jewel Drake

Small tree dwelling carpet drakes from the Musonese river basin. A large number of jewel drake species are known, but they all have a few things in common: Vividly colored and highly poisonous. Their toxins come from their diet, and so people have figured out how to keep them as pets without the high risk of poisoning.

The species pictured here is known as the Ultramarine Jewel Drake. All species posses a sharp claw on their front two pairs of limbs, which can easily puncture skin and cause the poison on their skin to seep into the body. Caution is heavily advised when handling these creatures.

Root Serpent

Originally thought to be a serpent due to it's elongated body, it was eventually figured out that it was instead a carpet drake, though the name stuck. These creatures are found mostly in Musonee, where they hide among the mangroves, looking like roots to fool their prey.

A relatively popular pet and familiar in Musonee due to their elongated shape and gentle temperament.

[rabbitcruiser]

Jasper National Park, AB (No. 8)

The park contains several major roads, most of which are intended to be scenic routes that provide access to all of the park's front-country attractions. Since a good sample of parks scenery and wildlife can be viewed from the roads themselves, driving them is considered a core part of the park experience.

Highway 16 (part of the Trans-Canada Highway and Yellowhead Highway systems) is the main route through the park and is the only major east–west corridor crossing the mountains in that area. It serves as both an important trade and travel corridor for through traffic and a tourist route allowing visitors to access and view many of the park's attractions.

The Icefields Parkway (also known as Highway 93) is a highway 230 km (140 mi) in length running from Lake Louise, Alberta, in Banff National Park, to Jasper, Alberta, where it meets Highway 16. The scenic highway runs parallel to the continental divide, providing motor and cycle access to the heart of the Canadian Rockies and is considered to one of the park's main attractions. Along its length the parkway has many viewpoints, tourist attractions, hikes and campgrounds. The Athabasca and Sunwapta Falls are both accessible by the road. In May 2014, Glacier Sky Walk opened to the public. It is glass-floored observation platform 280 metres (920 ft) over the Sunwapta Valley. Unlike Highway 16, the Icefields Parkway is strictly a tourist route, and all freight traffic is prohibited from using the road. All users must have a parks pass.

Source: Wikipedia

[mapsontheweb]

This task in Finnish geography finals.

via u/PureRip3

Based on the map of the imaginary world source 1.A, choose the incorrect statement in sub-questions 1.1 to 1.10. There is only one incorrect statement in each sub-task. Some of the statements refer to items a-i on Map 1.A. Correct answer 2 p., wrong answer 0 p., no answer 0 p.

1.1 Land cover 2 p.

There is one lake in the area.

Only the northern parts of the area are marshes.

There are no surface waters in Mordor.

The area is mainly covered by forest.

1.2 Topography 2 p.

Mountains separate Mordor from the rest of the map.

Minas Tirith (a) is located in the river valley between the mountains.

Mount Doom (b) is visible from the town of Minas Tirith (a).

Edoras (c) is located on the lower slopes of the mountain range.

1.3 River network 2 p.

The Ringló river (d) flows down to the southwest.

The Ringló river (d) is not a branch of the Anduin (e).

Anduin (e) flows from south to north.

Edoras (c) is in the catchment area of Anduin (e).

1.4 Weather and climate 2 p.

The weather in the Lebennin area is often warmed by warm downdrafts.

The climate of the Lebennin region is wetter than that of the Anórien region.

The prevailing wind direction in the Lebennin area is from the sea.

The seaside balances the temperatures in the Lebennin area.

1.5 Road network 2 p.

The road from Minas Tirith (a) to Edoras (c) passes through the forest in two places.

The area between Minas Tirith (a), Morannon (f) and the northern parts of Mordor has the densest road network on the map.

The road from Edoras (c) to the Ringlo river (d) is longer than the road to Mount Doom (b).

The southern part of Mordor has a dense road network.

1.6 Interactions between regions 2 p.

The southern part of Mordor is peripheral.

Morannon (f) is a key transport hub.

Edoras (c) is the northernmost town in the region.

From Edoras (c) to Minas Tirith (a) there is both a road and a water route.

1.7 Air directions 2 p.

Minas Tirith (a) is located west of Anduin (e).

From Minas Tirith (a), the bay shown on the map is to the south-west.

Minas Tirith (a) is located east of Mordor.

From Minas Tirith (a), Mount Doom (b) is to the north-east.

1.8 Scale 2 p.

A proportional scale would be more appropriate for this map, which can be zoomed in and out.

The scale line indicates how much distance on this map corresponds to 100 km in nature.

The scale line indicates that the area shown on this map is about 350 kilometres wide in a south-north direction.

The scale line indicates that if the width of this map in the east-west direction were 45 centimetres when printed, its scale would be 1:1 000 000.

1.9 Distances and areas 2 p.

Minas Tirith (a) is about 100 km from Mount Doom (b).

The distance from Minas Tirith (a) to the sea by river is less than 400 km.

The plateau south of Morannon (f), surrounded by steep mountains, is less than 2 500 km2 .

Nindalf (g) is about 3 000 hectares in size.

1.10 Elevation curves 2 p.

The highest point of the Ephel Duath mountain range (h) is about 800 m above sea level.

Nindalf (g) is less than 200 metres above sea level.

The summit of Mount Doom (b) is about 200 metres above the surrounding area.

In the mountain area designated as site (i), the western slope is gentler than the eastern slope.

[stoptakingthegoodname5]

My first fic was perceived as ok so this is pt.2 of my little Zhogan propaganda. Yayyy! 🎉

(⚠️RPF below this scroll if you don’t like it ⚠️)

this is a long ass fic, 5,098 characters

ALSO if you haven't read pt.1 go ahead as it will make sense if you read from the beginning https://www.tumblr.com/stoptakingthegoodname5/759633630758928384/just-your-regular-little-bass-pro-date?source=share

/ hope you enjoy :)

Zhou’s lines: —“these are my lines”—

Logans lines: ——“these are my lines”——

/ Guess I do like the store… like you. /

Zhou laid his feet on the dash on Logans rental car, due to the different traffic laws in the states he rather be the passenger princess. It was a small little unspoken rule for the two as Logan drove the roads in the Americas, and Zhou did the roads in Asia but funny enough they do rock paper scissors for who drives around when they’re in Europe. Of course the media finds it weird that Logan or Zhou drive’s each other around but they always play it out as “oh we’re best buddies!”— and all that bullshit.

Zhou looked at his boyfriend who is straight faced at the moment eyes on the road up north of Texas to a city called Dallas, he wasn’t really paying much attention as he huffed —“broooo how long do we have to we go to this fish shop?”— Zhou said tired of being on the road Logans laugh echoed through the truck as he smiled ——“just a little bit longer dude, we still have a hour away.”—— This made the Chinese man to groan in a tired tone —“sigh of course this state is bigger than most countries in Europe this is bullshit….”—

——“now now dude we’re almost there just enjoy the ride, plus don’t crack the windshield with your feet on the dash ok?”—— Zhou rolled his eyes as he nods as the music played on the radio many cars come and go on the highway. As for Zhou he was invested in his phone scrolling mindlessly on twitter and or Instagram.

After a hour on the road they made it close to downtown Dallas and Zhou was chuckling as he helped a stressed Logan out on the highway —"bro turn left to get off I-30 we need to eastbound what the fuck are you doing"— he said cackling at the situation as his boyfriend huffed pissed off at the situation, as Texan drivers are ruthless but the Floridian was worse ——"I'm trying babe but this jackass wont move!!"—— he honked at the car in front as he floored the truck faster to barely make it into their exit. Logan heard the other diver curse them out and in an eye roll he responded to the comment ——"yeah yeah you kiss your mother with that fucking mouth?! jackass....."——

After that incident Logan and Zhou made it to the beautiful Lake on the east side of Dallas about 17 miles off to the east driving up to the Bass Pro Shops Logan kept hyping the whole trip. Zhou hopped out the F-150 as he puts his shoes on, closing the door with a soft twack he walked around the white truck to notice Logan's appearance —"really dude you're wearing that?"— Logan shocked at his boyfriend’s harsh words as he looked at his outfit ——"what whats wrong with it?! I think I look good fwi!"—— he said a bit pained that his causal wear was being criticized the irony of it all it was by his own lover! What Logan wore was a light grey tee and some loose basketball shorts which really doesn't do him any favors, and my god Birkenstocks and white socks?! Ugh the gut wrenching horror Zhou experience with that outfit be might well pass out in this parking lot.

Logan rolled his eyes and punched Zhou's arm ——"whatever jackass lets just go in the damn store"—— he knew to not annoy him further as Zhou apologized softly and held his hand as they walk in the Bass Pro. Both men walking in Zhou was hit with a massive culture shock —"my god what the fuck Is this place?!"— he said confused and a bit overwhelmed at all the sights. —"I mean like there's camo clothing everywhere! And is this place just themes as a big log cabin?!"— Logan on the other hand chuckled at Zhou's shock to this new place as the Asian didn't like the American laughing at his expense so he punched his gut —"not funny jackass!! I'm overwhelmed aren't you going to help your "boyfriend?!"—

Logan kept cackling as he wiped a stray tear off his eye before smiling painedly ——"OW? that hurt you know you prick!"—— he kept some amusement in his voice as Zhou wasn't even overstimulated he was just pissed at his lover laughing at him ——"ok bro you had your laugh, ha ha ha!"—— he said sarcastic as he felt Logan's arms wrap around his waist as he gave him a soft kiss to the neck for comfort ——"sorry babe you were too funny to tease, didn't mean to hurt your feelings...."—— Logan said more genuine in the voice that always made Zhou's heart melt after 15 seconds he sighed heavy and leaned into his touch ——"sigh sorry for lashing out man... just the culture shock y'know?"— Logan smiles and nods ——"yes dude I know I was an ass for even joking while you were in shock... hey let me make it up to you I'll buy you anything in this store on me ok? And maybe we can go to this gas station called Buc-ee's on the way back ok?"——

Zhou smiled softly as he chuckled —"spoiling me eh? anything from this store... and Buc-ee's later? Fine fine I forgive you Logan maybe I will grab a ugly camo hoodie as my first item"— with that Logan smiles softly and kissed Zhou's cheek ——"ah you seem to be getting fond of this place already, do you like the store Zhou...."—— he blushed embarrassed as he was already a kinda liking this store after all the theatrics he did before but to keep his pride he shook his head. Looking into his boyfriends eyes he sighed knowing it wasn't even worth it to lie today and he nods —"Yes bro, Guess I do like the store... like you"—

(Second story Jesus Christ, hope you guys like it and thanks to @midnight-grandprix for the header and a small mention to @kichona-s 🩷🩷😊)

((Little game to play check to see in the story a hint for Pt. 3 oooooo 👻))

[mimisempai]

I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 1/8

Summary

Professor Crowley Anthony is about to embark on a new career and a new life at the Rainbow Academy in London. His only regret: giving up the superb cottage he'd rented on the banks of a South Downs lake… 

Before he left, he left a note for the next occupant, asking him to forward his mail and pointing out that the paw prints on the path to the cottage had been there before he moved in. 

Upon taking possession of the cottage, antiquarian Aziraphale Fell immediately falls in love with it, and decides to restore it without paying any further attention to Crowley's mysterious message...

Notes

The Lakehouse AU that nobody asked for.

On Ao3

Rating G -  4869 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter

When two people "connect" the bond between them can be so pure and simple as to stir hearts in heaven.

When they connect in all the right places at all the wrong times, heaven weeps for broken hearts. To heal these broken hearts, heaven breaks time.

—Blithe Spiritus

Crowley took one last look at the lakeside cottage through the rear-view mirror, watching it grow smaller and smaller as he drove away.

His gaze shifted forward to the cage in the passenger seat where Harry, his pet rabbit, was resting. 

He sighed and said quietly, "I hope you like our new home, mate."

If he was honest with himself, he'd said that as much for himself as for the animal; leaving the comfort of the cottage and the quiet surroundings to face the city and a new job was a little nerve-wracking, despite the thrill of novelty and finally being able to practice his chosen profession.

Suddenly he slammed on the brakes, holding the forward sliding cage with one hand. Then he pulled back.

He said in an apologetic tone, "Sorry Harry, I just realised I forgot something."

He backed the car up to the incongruous letterbox that stood in front of the path that led to the cottage.

He'd always been amused by it, wondering what the previous owner's whim had been to put an American mailbox in front of an English cottage. But he'd got used to it, and even the postman had played along, dropping off the mail and raising the little red flag to indicate he'd delivered it.

Crowley grabbed an envelope from beside Harry's cage, then put his hand through the car window, opened the letterbox and put the envelope inside. Then he pulled up the little red flag to indicate that there was mail. All under Harry's watchful eye. 

He tapped the top of the cage and said quietly, "Come on, this time it's for good."

He drove on, accelerating, refusing to watch the sign for the tiny village where his home, Ditchling, was located disappear.  Crowley drove east, the lake behind him, then passed a sign: London - 53 miles.

The traffic increased as he approached the city, and only after maneuvering through the various streets and weaving his way through the London traffic did he finally come to a stop in front of a building on a street that looked quite busy. It was a very new building, cold and sterile. The contrast with the old-fashioned tranquility of Ditchling's cottage was striking and, most of all, a little unsettling to Crowley.

He parked, got out and took a moment to absorb the change in his surroundings. Then, with a sigh, he began to unload his belongings.

**********

The next morning, he paused on the steps at the entrance to the Rainbow Académie, whose name was a surprising contrast to its imposing architecture. He took a deep breath to give himself courage before moving forward, climbing the few steps and pushing open the heavy door. He entered and made his way to what appeared to be the reception desk where a rather busy looking secretary was sitting.

Crowley coughed and asked quietly, "Excuse me?"

"Just a minute, will you?"

She hadn't even looked up to answer him, so Crowley waited a minute, politely, then tried again to get her attention. 

"Ahem... Excuse me, I need to..."

She handed him a stack of papers and said, still not looking at him, "Fill this out and wait for me over there, okay?"

Crowley looked at the outstretched papers, shook his head and handed them back, saying gently, "No, I'm Crowley Anthony, a bit of a strange name, but I'm a new teacher. I was told to report here. I'm starting as an astronomy teacher today."

The secretary replied sheepishly, "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor. You need to find the headmistress, Mrs. Tracy, she should be here. A woman with red hair, dressed in a very... colourful suit, you can't miss her."

Crowley thanked the secretary before heading down the corridor she'd indicated. He did indeed spot the Headmistress fairly quickly, and thought with amusement that the secretary had described her perfectly.

Mrs Tracy wasn't very tall, despite her high heels, but everything about her demeanour, head carriage and posture exuded confidence and authority. After greeting Crowley, she motioned for him to follow. She walked energetically and the new teacher, though taller, found it hard to keep up. No sooner had he arrived in her office than she handed him a large stack of files and said, "You'll be in charge of the sophomores, you'll have three classes to teach this morning and three this afternoon."

Crowley repeated to be sure, "Three?" 

She nodded and replied with a half smile on her lips, "It's a quiet day, for a first day."

Crowley looked a little taken aback, he hadn't thought he'd be jumping right into the thick of things and thought he'd have a bit of time to settle in.

The Headmistress turned as if sensing his hesitation and said gently, "The teacher you replaced left without notice and it took us a while to find the right replacement, so the students lost a lot of time for their final exams. We must do our best for them to succeed."

They left the headmistress' office and, after walking through two hallways, came to another where their attention was drawn to a student sitting alone on a bench, looking sullen. Mrs. Tracy stopped and motioned to a supervisor.

"What's he doing here?"

The supervisor replied, "He's been punished for taking apart a computer to prove Professor Pulsifer wrong, and he has to do an hour's classification in the archives under Professor Device's supervision. However, I can't leave the place unattended, and I was waiting for my replacement to take him there."

Mrs. Tracy said firmly, "Adam, get up."

The boy stood up, still looking sulky, and the headmistress continued, "Professor Anthony, take him to Professor Device in the school library, and then you can begin your lessons in this classroom."

The headmistress pointed to the door of the classroom in question, then turned and walked away without waiting for a reply.

"Well, follow me, Mr...?"

The boy followed suit and replied in a curt tone, "Young, Adam Young. But we're all on a first-name basis here."

Crowley replied with a wink, "Then let's go, Adam the Computer Disassembler." 

He knew that as a teacher here, he couldn't condone what the young man had done, but he couldn't help but find it amusing.

Seeing that the professor didn't look reproachful, Adam lost his pout and, grinning a little, asked boldly, "I didn't get it, is Anthony your first or last name?"

Crowley, used to people's astonishment, replied gently, "My last name, Crowley is my first name."

"Ah, okay. That's pretty cool."

"Thanks, but tell me Adam, I'm very curious to know what could have possessed you to take apart a computer."

Adam animatedly explained to an amused Crowley that Professor Pulsifer, who taught biology, had said that nothing could compare to the complex assemblage that was a living being, and Adam had tried to show him otherwise by dismantling the professor's laptop.

"But I was just about to put it back together, so I don't understand why he got so upset."

Crowley couldn't help but chuckle when Adam suddenly frowned as they arrived at the school library.

The boy muttered, "Welcome to an hour of mortal boredom."

They walked through the door and a young woman with long hair and thick dark glasses approached them, "Adam Young, it's been so long! I missed you so much!" 

Adam grumbled, "I was here yesterday." 

She ruffled Adam's hair as he tried to duck away, then held out her hand to Crowley and said with a big smile on her face, "Professor Device, History Teacher, but call me Anathema. Pleased to meet you. New professor?"

Crowley nodded and replied, "Yes, I'm the new Astronomy teacher, Crowley Anthony, but call me Crowley. I'll leave you to take care of this promising young man," he winked at Adam before continuing, "As for me, I'll be teaching my first class."

"Welcome, and good luck!" Anathema called to him before turning back to Adam, "You go to the third shelf, second row down, I've got three archive boxes for you to sort through, in alphabetical order and without a computer."

Hearing Adam's grumbling, Crowley couldn't help but chuckle as he walked away.

A few minutes later, he paused outside his classroom door and took a deep breath.

"It takes a little time to adjust, but most of the students are exceptional and the staff is very, very nice."

Crowley turned to see who had just spoken.

He found himself face to face with a person who could easily have been mistaken for a student with his indefinable style, average height, slender, with a strange hairstyle that looked as if jay-black hair formed two horns, a kind smile, and sparkling eyes. The newcomer held out his hand and said in a warm voice, "Eric, art teacher, welcome."

Crowley shook it and replied, "Crowley, Astronomy Teacher. 

Eric nodded toward the door, "Good luck," then walked away.

Crowley, feeling motivated by this little interlude, walked confidently through the classroom door, placed his belongings on the desk and, with an engaging smile on his lips, addressed his first students, "Good morning, I'm your new Astronomy teacher and I hope we're going to work well together. 

He paused, glancing over the entire class before continuing, "O Captain! My Captain! Who knows where this came from. Any ideas? It's..."

A girl at the back of the classroom raises her hand.

"Yes...?"

"Pepper, Professor."

"All right, Pepper, I'm listening."

"It's a poem by Walt Whitman about Abraham Lincoln. And it's plagiarism of Professor Keating's introduction played by Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society."

Crowley held back a laugh so as not to lose his authority on the first day and replied in a calm voice, "Thank you, Pepper. I'm pleased to see that my students are quick-witted, and something tells me that we're all going to do a good job together. I won't ask you to call me Captain, Sir, or Professor, just Crowley. And like my namesake, Aleister Crowley, I'll tell you one thing: I'm not interested in herding sheep. So be curious, ask me questions, question what I say if you feel you must. I'm open to discussion, as long as we respect each other."

There was a great silence, then gradually the whole class, including Pepper, began to smile and then the girl gave him a little military salute, mouthing, "Yes, Captain!"

So, as Crowley made his way to the blackboard, he thought to himself that this wasn't such a bad start.

The classes went pretty much the same way throughout the day. But even though most of the classes had been pleasant and smooth, he still felt exhausted by the end of the day. So he dropped into the chair at his assigned desk in the teachers' lounge, before tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

"So, have they worn you out yet?" said the soft voice he recognized as Eric's. 

He opened his eyes to see that the art teacher was sitting right next to him as he continued, "Still, they keep talking about Crowley, the new teacher who's super cool."

"It's been a long time since I've heard of an astronomy teacher who's that good." 

Anathema came over and pulled up a chair to sit in the space between Eric and Crowley.

"The Them?"

Anathema chuckled before answering, "We call them that because since they formed their little gang, they've changed their name so many times we can't keep track, so I can't remember who did it, but that's what we call them now. The Them. They're probably the smartest people in this elite school, and they always stick together for..."

"...for the sake of science," Eric finished.

"That's their argument every time they get caught in one of their escapades," Anathema clarified, kicking off her shoes before gathering her legs under herself.

"Who are the Them made up of," Crowley asked curiously.

Anathema replied, counting on her fingers, "There's the leader of the gang, Adam, who you met this morning, he's in the same class as his three childhood friends, Brian, Wensleydale and Pepper. Pepper, by the way, was talking about the way you introduced your class and was not a little proud to have, as she says, put you in your place. Captain, my captain, isn't it?"

Crowley shrugged and replied, "We do what we can to get their attention, don't we? Anyway, they look interesting to me."

"Wait until you're the butt of one of their pranks, then we'll see if you find these kids interesting," an unfamiliar voice said behind him.

"Newt, dear, did you manage to fix your laptop?" exclaimed Anathema, laughing as the newcomer planted a kiss in her hair before turning to Crowley and extending his hand.

"Professor Anthony, I presume?"

Crowley shook his hand and replied, "Call me Crowley, and I presume you're Professor Pulsifer."

"Newton or Newt, am I that famous?"

Crowley chuckled softly and replied, "It's mostly that I had the pleasure of taking Adam Young to Anathema for his punishment."

"That brat..." Newt growled before continuing, "He's clever... but his habit of proving himself right all the time..."

The other teachers laughed in unison. 

Unaccustomed to being around so many people, and especially such nice people, Crowley felt a little overwhelmed, and suddenly the fatigue of this first day seemed to fall on his shoulders to the point where he had to stifle a yawn. 

Anathema patted him on the shoulder and said: "I have an excellent remedy for that."

He raised an eyebrow and asked, "What is it?"

Eric and Anathema nodded and replied at the same time, “The dirty Monkey.”

At Crowley's confused look, Newt explained, "It's a pub two blocks away with good appetizers, good booze, and as for good company, that's us," he finished with a wink. 

Crowley understood that they were inviting him to join them, but he hesitated and finally replied, shaking his head, "Thank you. I'd better not drink tonight. I'm dead."

The biology professor replied, "We're all dead."

"Yeah, but I just moved in and I've got a lot of unpacking to do." 

They nodded and didn't seem disappointed by his refusal, even rather understanding. Crowley really wasn't used to this kind of company and the warmth of their gaze eased the feeling of loneliness that seemed to be his constant companion.        

Eric placed a hand on his arm and said quietly, "Next time, then."

Crowley, not understanding why his throat was tight, nodded and said quietly but firmly, "Don't doubt it."

Moments later, they parted outside the school gates, Crowley on one side and the group of his new colleagues on the other.

"Goodbye Crowley!"

"See you tomorrow, Captain!"

"Bye Crowley!"

Crowley lived only three blocks from the school and soon arrived home. As he entered, he realized how sterile and cold his large apartment seemed, especially after the moments he had spent in the company of his new colleagues.

He hadn't lied when he said he hadn't had time to unpack yet, and there were boxes scattered everywhere. The first thing he had unpacked was Harry's basket, although the rabbit often ended up sleeping at Crowley's feet.

As he closed the door, he heard Harry's typical little pawing noises and then felt the rabbit immediately come to sniff his feet before rubbing up against his legs as usual. He scratched Harry's head between his ears and headed for the kitchen. Harry was a rabbit with spotless white fluffy fur, and if it was true that Crowley had wanted a dog first, he didn't regret having Harry as a companion. One day, the rabbit had unexpectedly come into his life and quickly endeared himself to him and invaded his life.

Crowley opened the fridge, which was desperately empty except for a portion of vegetables for Harry. He put it on a plate and set it on the floor, commenting, "We need rabbit food and human food too.

He would have to go shopping tomorrow.

After munching on a packet of crisps, exhausted, he took a quick shower before heading to his room.

His room was as functional and depressing as the rest of the place. He went to the window. Outside there was nothing but stone buildings. It was very difficult to see the sky. 

He sighed before muttering, "What a view..." then pulled down the blinds and lay down. As soon as his head was on the pillow, he heard Harry's little pitter-patter and then felt the mattress move as the rabbit landed beside him before crawling along his body. Harry sniffed his face a few times and then returned to press himself against his feet. 

"At least you seem to be getting back into your routine quickly, little rascal. Good night, Harry."

Crowley fell asleep very quickly, which prevented him from thinking too much about all that he was missing.

An old yellow Beetle that looked like it had lived a long time drove past Ditchling's sign and parked at the side of the road leading to the cottage. It was full of moving boxes and was pulling a trailer full of furniture. 

A man with blond hair and a suit as old-fashioned as his car got out with a cheerful expression. He walked up to the lakeside cottage and stopped, hands on hips, taking in the view. 

Then he walked on, opened the door of the cottage, looked for the electric panel, and when he found it, turned it on and went to turn on the lights in the foyer, then in what appeared to be the living room.

Aziraphale looked around and rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. There wasn't much there. A stereo, a few books, an armchair. But the bare, cozy furnishings were a perfect match for the austere beauty of the little house. 

He looked out the window at the lake and immediately knew he was going to like it here.

It took him a good four hours to unload the car and trailer and set up almost everything he'd brought with him. When he was done, he took the thermos of tea he'd brought with him and poured himself a cup, inhaling it with pleasure. He was already feeling at home.

As he sipped his tea, he quietly walked around the house, taking in the place. When he was done, he decided it was time to stock his cupboard and fridge, and got into his car to go shopping at the local grocery store he'd spotted on his way in.

A short time later, after walking around the store with his groceries in his arms, he set them down on the counter.

Behind it stood two men, both bearded, one with short hair and one with long hair, the latter kindly asking him, "Hello, are you new here?"

Aziraphale smiled and replied, "More or less. My name is Aziraphale." 

The owner replied, "My name is Bill, and this is my husband, Frank.

Frank smiled and added, "You're going to love it here. Especially now that the weather is warming up." Then, pointing to the groceries, he added, "We'll get you some boxes for all this."

"Oh, thank you," Aziraphale replied.

Frank moved to get an empty box from a high shelf, and now that he was no longer hidden by the counter, Aziraphale noticed that he was moving with a cane, and Bill rushed over and said, "No, dear, let me do it."

Frank shook his head and replied, "I have trouble walking, but I can still climb a ladder."

Suddenly, they both stopped as the sound of a baby crying came through the baby monitor that Aziraphale hadn't noticed next to the cash register.

Frank chuckled and said to Bill, "Your turn, Daddy."

Bill grumbled, and as Frank went to get the boxes for Aziraphale to put his groceries in, the other man returned with the crying baby in his arms. Aziraphale, who adored children, approached and, looking at the baby, who must have been barely 6 months old, said softly, "Oh, how adorable! What's his name?"

"Joel."

Aziraphale moved his finger forward to stroke the baby's cheek, but Joel caught his finger firmly.

"I think he likes you."

They chatted a little longer as the baby's cries subsided, then Aziraphale paid, picked up his box, and left, not without promising the couple he'd be back. He glanced in the rearview mirror, touched to see the little family waving at the front of the store, making him even more aware of his own loneliness. 

He parked again in front of the small path leading to the cottage and noticed the mailbox with the flag up. He stopped and opened it. There was an envelope.

For the new tenant.

He brought in the groceries, put them away, made himself a tray of finger sandwiches, took the letter, and sat down in the chair in front of the bay window. He placed his tray on a small table nearby, opened the letter and began to read. 

Dear new tenant.

Hello and welcome to your new home and congratulations, blah blah blah. You've made an excellent choice, Ditchling is a wonderful place and this house is a gem, as you may have noticed.

I'm sure you're going to love living here as much as I have.

I'm the former tenant, Crowley.

Aziraphale looked puzzled, but also pleasantly surprised; even though he would probably never meet this person, it was nice to get a little personal mail. He read on.

The post office usually forwards my mail, but if anything should happen here, because the post office is what it is and you're never sure, my new address is below. Thank you very much.

Aziraphale flipped it over.

P.S.: Sorry about the paw prints leading to the front door. They were there when I moved in, as was the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner. 

Aziraphale looked at the letter with amusement and couldn't help but check the last words.

He went to the front door and looked at the floor, but saw no paw prints and the floor was clean, inside and out. 

Confused, he scratched the back of his head before heading for the ladder that led to the attic. He opened the trapdoor, stuck his head through and looked around. The attic was empty. No box.

He climbed back down, shrugged, crumpled up the letter and threw it away. It probably wasn't addressed to him. A little disappointed, he finished his meal in a less than cheerful mood and went to bed.

The next morning, as he was polishing a gramophone before displaying it in the window, he couldn't stop thinking about that letter and its more or less strange ending, when he was interrupted by the doorbell indicating that someone had entered the shop.

He put down the cloth, wiped his hands on his apron, and went into the shop.

"Good morning, Aziraphale! I made lunch, would you like to share?"

It was the cheerful and somewhat pushy Arthur. Arthur Brown, the owner of the carpet store almost across the street from his own.

He replied, struggling to hide his annoyance at being interrupted from a task he loved, "I can't, I have an urgent job to finish."

"Oh come on Aziraphale, there's nothing urgent about an old... an old well, an old thing you must have discovered at I don't know which old lady's house around here."

"It's urgent for me."

The carpet merchant poutted disappointedly and sighed before replying, "Well, okay..." and heading for the door, before turning abruptly and asking, "Is it true you bought a house? Where is it? What's it like?"

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but he wasn't surprised because he'd expected these questions. He'd told Maggie, the owner of the vinyl store next door, about his new home and she, of course, had told her girlfriend, Nina. Since Nina owned the coffee shop on that strip, the news must have spread like wildfire.

He replied, "It's an isolated cottage near a village called Ditchling."

Arthur exclaimed, "Are you crazy, isolating yourself like that?"

Aziraphale replied rather curtly, "This is what I want, and I already feel at home there. And now, if you don't mind, I'll get back to my work, which is not urgent." 

He walked briskly to his workshop, annoyed at the criticism of his choice, and didn't even hear the door close.

Even though it would take him almost two hours to get to the lakeside cottage, he had decided to go there every day to clean, tidy, and renovate it as quickly as possible, and he had fairly flexible hours, like today, Monday, when the shop was closed in the afternoon. So, after a light lunch in the shop, he set off for Ditchling, and as the weather was rather pleasant, he decided to repaint the faded railings that lined the little path leading up to the front door. This manual labor, like his work on the objects in his antique shop, gave him something to take his mind off things.

A few hours later, as the day wore on, Aziraphale knelt on the steps and finished applying a first coat of paint to the boards he had previously sanded, removing the old, peeling green paint. He finished, pleased with the result, and began to put away his equipment.

Behind him, a small rabbit hopped along the path, but Aziraphale didn't immediately notice it. Before Aziraphale could react, it hopped right into the tray where Aziraphale was wiping the excess paint from his brush and continued on, leaving a trail of paw prints behind it. 

"Hey! Stop!"

Aziraphale ran after the rabbit, trying to catch it, but it ran right into the cottage, whose door had been left half-open. Aziraphale started to follow, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the ground at his feet. 

There was now a trail of rabbit paw prints leading to the front door. 

He rushed to the wastebasket and rifled through it for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for. Holding his breath, he stared at the letter for a few moments without reacting. 

Sorry about the paw prints leading to the front door. They were there when I moved in, as was the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner. 

Aziraphale stared at the crumpled letter in his hand for a long moment.

Crowley went for lunch to a park he had discovered not far from the school. It was quite warm for the time of year, so he unbuttoned his jacket and the first two buttons of his shirt as he walked quietly, hoping to find a free bench.

He only found one that was quite close to the road, but it was better than nothing and enough to enjoy his lunch break. So he began unwrapping his sandwich while flipping through the newspaper, then stretched his long legs out in front of him and sighed in satisfaction, enjoying this moment of quiet, even though the place was rather crowded due to the unusually nice weather.

After finishing his sandwich, Crowley closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sunlight warm him. He wasn't asleep, and he was aware of the sounds around him, like the water in the fountain, the splashing and laughing of children playing in it, an old man grumbling about global warming, the ducks quacking on the small pond nearby, hoping to get a few crumbs from those who, like Crowley, had decided to eat lunch here. 

Suddenly, this harmony was shattered by a horrible sound: a high-pitched screech and a car horn brought Crowley to his feet. He opened his eyes abruptly and looked around.

On the side of the road, just a few feet from his bench, he spotted whatever was responsible for the noise. A double-decker city bus was visibly trying to stop. It was going quite fast, but the driver was clearly trying to brake.

Crowley took in everything - the noise, the bus, the drivers, the passengers screaming from above - before noticing a man standing on the side of the road directly in the path of the bus. There was nothing to be done, it was inevitable and almost instantaneous, the man was hit by the bus and Crowley watched in horror as his distant silhouette flew ten or fifteen feet into the air before crashing to the pavement. The faint sound of the impact reached Crowley a half-second later because of the distance.

Crowley automatically pulled out his cell phone and dialed 999. As he ran toward the point of impact, he relayed all the information to the rescue team, trying to remain calm. 

After hanging up the phone, feeling as if his feet were glued to the ground, he continued to run toward the lifeless body.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

[marrowfrog00]

You Stir My Natural Emotions

A/N: Hi, this is a post I made a while back on my Ao3 and since I'm dragging ass on writing anything new...I thought I'd rest on my barely-there, crusty, dusty ass laurels until inspiration strikes or I put my back into actualizing my idea-rs.

CW: MDNI, Smut (characters are 18+), Mentions of Trauma, Broken Bones, Misunderstandings, Idiots in Love, Quarreling, Canon Typical Violence, Flashbacks, Descriptions of female anatomy, Oral (f receiving), P in V, Protected Sex, Adaptive Sex, Mentions of deceased grandmother, Not formatted b/c fuck that r.n., lmk if I missed anything

wc: 13.9k

Steve’s polo was pasted to his back with the sweat of high Midwestern summer. He glanced back at his Bimmer, parked behind Nancy’s station wagon, more than a little uneasy at the prospect of leaving it on the narrow shoulder of the county road. 

His destination, an unauthorized swimming hole with a somewhat rickety, decommissioned dock, didn’t have a proper parking space. Not like the well kept county-owned lakeside park on the other side of the water. That spot had designated parking but would no doubt be littered with desperate, unadventurous families trying to beat the heat. 

People unlike his friends, who frequented the busted but perfectly functional East shore of the lake. 

He bushwhacked through noxious weeds and nettles, feet seeking out the half-worn path that would take him to the meeting spot. He reached the little bluff, where he had to cut little switchbacks to make it down the hill without breaking his ankle. When he reached the last tree stand he heard the rowdy voices of his friends carry across the shallows of the lake. 

And just in time, too - the polyester and mesh of his swim trunks were chafing him under his Jordache jeans. 

He could see the backs of Robin’s and Eddie’s heads in low seat beach chairs. They were clandestinely passing a flask between them while Nancy and Jon sat on a blanket beside them, Nancy rubbing sunblock on her boyfriend’s shoulders, pausing to push her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. 

She noticed Steve’s approach, head shooting up with a bright smile. “Hey! You made it!”

Eddie, Robin and Jon’s heads shot up in reaction, each of them shooting him a half-enthused greeting.

“What took you so long, dingus?” Robin crowed, clearly half-tipsy.

Steve scoffed, pulling his polo over his head and tossing it by the cooler. 

“Well, someone called out today and I had to stay on an extra hour and a half at the store waiting for coverage,” he sniped back with no heat. Robin blew a raspberry at him.

“Strip down, Big Boy, you’re wasting daylight,” Eddie shot lazily. He stretched out on his beach chair, limbs quaking at full extension like those of a freshly-awakened cat. His chest was on full display, the white cast of badly-applied sunblock streaked across his tummy.

Steve rolled his eyes - there was nothing if not daylight to waste, the sun smiling at them all meanly from high in the sky.

 He shuffled his jeans down his legs before kicking them in Eddie’s face, who expertly dodged the attack with a guffaw.

Over on the dock, Max and El lay shoulder-to-shoulder on their stomachs, giggling over a glossy magazine while Mike and Lucas hollered off the edge, filling their super soakers from the dock’s edge. Will was buried in a sketch pad, toes dipped in the water.

Steve’s hands were planted on his hips as he did a quick headcount. A force of habit these days. He narrowed his eyes in search of the missing two. 

“Where are Dustin and Teenie?” he asked, noting suspicion in his own voice. The very two people he always had eyes on (if he could help it) were missing from this idyllic tableau. Nancy craned her neck to look toward the lake. 

“They’re in the water,” she said as if it were obvious. “They’ve been in there forever.” 

Steve felt his stomach clench uneasily but tried to school his expression into something nonplussed as he started toward the dock. 

“Why is she in the water?” he muttered to no one in particular, noting the worried pitch in his own voice. 

He saw the four heads of his nearly-adult friends turn toward him in unison as he walked past them. 

Robin chimed in then, through a hiccup “Psh, she’s fine Steven. We reinforced her.”

 Steve ignored her.

Max and El glanced up at him, muttering uninterested twin-greetings to him as he stepped gingerly between them. Will let him scooch past.

“Hey!” came your voice. “Do not shoot water in each other's mouths, this water is stagnant,” you barked. “That’s guaranteed dysentery.” 

“Sorry,” Lucas and Mike responded in unison.

Finally, yours and Dustin’s forms bobbing in the water came into view. Dustin was sputtering and rubbing his face with the hand not holding his own super soaker, clearly having been on the receiving end of Lucas and Mike’s attack. 

You were a few feet away from him, straddling a neon orange pool noodle. 

You were wearing that infernal bikini…the spring green one with ditsy white flowers and an underwire that smooshed your bust into a juicy-looking sculpture shaped by the hands of an unfair, horny god.

 Your hair was damp around your face. Even behind your red cat eye sunglasses, you appeared unimpressed until you caught sight of Steve and beamed at him. 

“Stevie!” you squealed. 

He didn’t waste another moment taking in the sight of you before he shoved off the dock and waded the short distance over to you and Dustin. 

“Hey, Steve!” he heard Dustin greet sweetly. Steve ignored it, leveling his gaze at you. 

“Teenie, what the hell are you doing in the lake?”

Your pretty smile fell at his words. You hesitated a moment before you fixed your face into a sardonic expression. 

“You’re looking at it, Stevie.”

“Your arm, Teenie! Your cast!” 

Steve didn’t notice how every head had turned toward the two of you at his little outburst. At that, you pulled your left arm out of the water, where it had been obscured. It looked like Swamp Thing, dark and soggy, water running off of it in rivulets. Steve saw that it was covered in a black rubbish bag, secured with silver duct tape (plus a derelict shoe lace) at your elbow. 

“It’s sorted, Stevie.” Steve heard conciliation in your voice. “The plaster’s bone dry underneath, ya happy?” 

No, he wasn’t happy.

Frankly, Steve didn’t care who had rigged the dry bag around the cast securing your fractured ulna. If he had, his money would have been on the braintrust that was Eddie and Robin, but who knew with this ragtag group? It wasn't as though the lot of them hadn’t crafted a bevy of improvised weapons and structures and clothing in the past.

Steve’s blood was boiling. He shouldn’t have had to tell you to stay out of the water, you should have just known.

 Yeah, lake day had been your idea, but he’d had a very different design for this day in his head when you’d proposed it.

 He thought the kids would splash around in the shallows while you and him (plus the other four sort-of grown ups) lounged at the water’s edge. 

The two of you would lather each other in sunblock (you with your good arm) and share a beer or two, and he would stare discreetly and shamelessly at your half-naked, prone body behind the safety of his Ray-Bans while some sappy love song played over the boombox and he pretended you were his and he wasn’t tap dancing around his feelings that he'd only sort of started realizing were feelings and-

“Steve,” you uttered sharply, snapping him out of his daydream.

Right. He had been busy giving you the business about reckless swimming. 

“You’re a terrible swimmer on a good day,” he scolded. “You really think you can hold your own with one arm?” he reasoned, gesturing at your form.

You pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head and glared at him, unimpressed. 

Dustin chose then to speak up, mildly. Steve almost forgot he was there. 

“We’re touching the bottom, Steve. We’re being safe, we’re touching the bottom,” he tried with a chord of desperation.

Steve looked between the two of you. A nasty little smirk on your face threatened to emerge. 

“Yeah, we’re touching the bottom.” You demonstrated your point by bouncing up and down on your toes a few times. Steve had to ignore how your boobs bounced with the motion. “And I have this, for buoyancy,” you added, smacking the end of your pool noodle into the water and sending a spray of water into Steve’s face.

Dustin cackled suddenly at Steve’s sputtering. Lucas, Mike, El and Max joined the hysterics shortly thereafter. Will hid a snicker behind his sketch pad.

 It should have broken the tension. It should have been the hard reset on the fun that Steve had almost ruined with his poop-pantsery.

“What about Dustin?” Steve tried then. He was feeling outnumbered here. And a little stupid, frankly. But righteous. Like, how the hell was he supposed to feel when he leaves the lot of you alone for one afternoon and the two (arguably) most vulnerable people are just hanging out with no one to stop you drowning?

Dustin’s blue eyes grew big and confused at the mention of his name. You looked at the young curly-haired boy reflexively.

“What about ‘im?” you shot back.

“He doesn’t have collar bones!” Steve barked, gesturing at the boy. 

Dustin looked a little hurt by the observation, true though it may be. Steve winced a little at his own insensitivity and immediately wished he could walk it back. “Sorry, bud,” he offered. 

Dustin seemed immediately appeased at his correction and shrugged as if to say “no problem.”

You weren’t ready to let it go, however. A mean guffaw escaped from the back of your throat before you replied “Dustin is fine. He’s a very capable swimmer,” you spat. Unlike me, Steve heard you mutter snarkily under your breath.

 You flicked Dustin’s nose lightly and winked at him, and he preened under your attention. All the kids did. You had that way about you, is all. 

Sensing the tension on the water, Eddie, Rob, Nance and Jon were stood up on the shore, looking on with mild concern. 

Steve noticed you noticing them and then you shook your head and declared “Know what? I packed sandwiches and nobody has touched them, so…andiamo.” 

With that, you abandoned your pool noodle and lifted yourself out of the water and onto the dock by your good arm. 

I would have helped her, Steve thought to himself bitterly, watching you drop hard on your knees before getting to your feet. 

He sated his need to help by pushing Dustin onto the dock by his butt, much to Dustin’s annoyance.

A bit later, everyone was seated on the shore, the last of the sandwiches having been polished off. 

The tension had waned for everyone else and the ambient murmur of jovial conversation had returned. 

Eddie was seated at Steve’s side, yammering in his ear about a road trip he wanted to take with you all sometime next Spring.

 But Steve’s gaze was trained on you, across the circle, engaged in quiet conversation with Nancy and Robin. 

You had pulled your shorts on, leaving them unbuttoned over your bikini bottoms. Your oxford shirt with the sleeves cut off was unbuttoned, billowing open down to your navel. The trash bag had been removed from your arm carefully with the help of the tiny scissors on Dustin’s swiss army knife. 

You smiled wryly at some joke that Robin had made. Your face was free of makeup, eyes a little tired, but sanguine. 

“Ya listening to me, Stevie boy?” Eddie asked, cutting through Steve’s haze. 

“Sorry dude,” Steve shot back mindlessly, willing himself to pry his gaze away.

Eddie merely sniggered at his friend’s lack of manners. “That was quite a spectacle the two of you put on earlier.”

Steve scowled at him, knowing damn well what he was talking about, but choosing to feign ignorance.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

Eddie was unbothered by Steve’s pretend-game, continuing, “Like, you two guys pitch each other a lot of shit and it's usually good natured, but lately it's been…” Eddie sucked on his teeth as he pondered the right adjective. “Sticky.”

“Ed, man, shut up.”

“Nah,” Eddie said on a deep inhale. “Figure your shit out, Harrington. It’s embarrassing.” Eddie sunk back down into his chair. 

“Teenie Ween’s always been a sweetheart as long as I've known her but lately, you've been bringing out the worst in each other and it's exhausting.”

Steve’s face scrunched up in confusion, pondering Eddie’s cryptic words.

 “I’m sorry,” Steve said absently, though he didn’t know what he was sorry for.

 Eddie just smiled back at him from behind a pair of aviators.

Soon, the sun started to dip and everyone was a little sun drunk and over the day. Belongings were packed and the troupe of you made it up the bluff and through the thicket of overgrown weeds, back to the road. 

(⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

It was the transportation arrangement that really clinched the awkwardness of the outing. 

Nancy had hauled everyone to the beach earlier that day, sans you. You had been dropped off by a boy called Allen Miles and the mention of his name grated on Steve’s very spine.

Before you and Steve could devolve into another bitching match, Nancy pursed her lips and made a sound declaration that Steve would drive you, Dustin and Robin home.

 Nevermind that her station wagon would still be stuffed to the gills clown-style. And you wouldn’t even have the buffer of El at the ready since she was staying at Max’s house. You fought her on it, too.

“Does dad know you’re staying over with Max?” you asked her, almost pleading with her to give you a reason to pull elder sibling rank on you.

“Yes,” she hissed back at you haughtily. You deflated, knowing that you would be dropped off last. 

Maybe you could pretend to fall asleep during the ride so you didn’t have to deal with Steve alone. 

Looks were exchanged and car doors were slammed before you all set off into the twilight. Robin, who typically called shotty, practically shoved you into the front seat of Steve’s car. You didn’t want to make a scene in light of the day’s events, so you went without quarrel. 

Dustin and Robin droned on in the backseat about…something. You couldn’t have recounted even a smidgen of their conversation with a gun to your head. 

You were focused on Steve next to you, seething. You could feel it coming off of him. 

Your jaw clenched as Robin fixed you and Steve with an exasperated look that you could see in the side view mirror before leaving you with a cheeky adios! 

Dustin took up the mantle of filling the silence but soon enough, you were parked in front of the Henderson residence. 

The boy parried a moment before seemingly deciding he couldn't say or do anything to pop yours and Steve's acidic little bubble. The pair of you watched his mom greet him at the door before pulling away.

The thing was, today hadn’t happened in a vacuum. You and Steve had always gotten along pretty famously as far as your friends and built family were concerned. Certainly enough to make it through a world of unconscionable shit alongside the rest of them. 

But when reality as you all knew it was falling to pieces, nobody had the presence of mind to tune into the frequency that the two of you were on. They didn’t notice the intricacies of the geological formation of your relationship. 

You had materialized - yes! materialized - out of nowhere back in the fall of ‘83. You’d been sucked into the Upside Down from another time and place entirely. The unwitting and unlikely victim of a quantum hiccup twenty years in the future near your home on Nellis Airforce Base in North Las Vegas. 

Your slime-covered, barely animate fifteen-year-old body was discovered and carried out of the Upside Down by Hop. He, in a hazmat suit, you in your ripped, bloodied Catholic school uniform while Joyce stumbled alongside him with Will in her clutches. 

For weeks, you’d been near-catatonic, held in the custody of Dr. Owens while a cadre of shady G-men (plus Hop and Joyce) had tried to piece together your journey.

 You barely registered that you had leapt back in time and ended up somewhere you didn’t know a soul, half a decade before you were even born. 

For you were traumatized and plagued with guilt over the death of another teenage girl. A girl that had desperately wanted to get back to where you found yourself by accident. 

You'd tried pulling Barb off that sticky wall, even though part of you knew she was already dead. Soon, you surrendered to your exhaustion and found yourself glued to the same wall, a grotty vine prodding at your lips, trying to make a home in your esophagus right as Hop and Joyce happened upon you.

Eventually, your body healed and you came out of your stupor. You went to live with Hop. You didn’t have anywhere else to go, and besides which way, the best conclusion that the scientists from the DoE could come up with was that if you were going to go back “home”, it would be the way you came. So you had to stay close by.

 They paid a stipend to keep you fed and kept - you were an investment, afterall. Moreover, you were a liability and a paradox, and this was the best arrangement Owens could come up with. 

Hop got used to having you around, never trying to force the matter of you returning home. In the weeks when you’d lost track of El, you would sometimes stand timidly in front of the towering man until he promised you that you would find her. 

Neither of you could stand the guilt of her being out there on her own. Eventually El showed up and he decided that you would all carry on as though you had both been there the whole time. 

Nobody wanted you to go back home. How would you get there? How would you survive a second time?

You started school in January of ‘84, sticking close to the walls. 

Nancy and Jon felt responsible for you and kept you close. By default, that meant Steve, too. But Steve was suspicious of you. 

You were freaky to him and despite what he’d seen in the Byers house, he couldn’t really comprehend your being there. 

Sometimes, when you were all hanging out, a brand new song would come on the radio - like the DJ would make a big production of stressing the just released single - and then you’d absentmindedly mouth all the words perfectly. 

Other times, you’d say non-sequitur things that would turn out to be quotes from movies that hadn’t been released when you’d uttered them. 

The most unnerving was when Nancy’s father was hemming and hawing at the breakfast table one morning you were all over at the Wheeler house. 

He was pouring over a newspaper article about some sick murderer on the loose, reciting the most sordid details while Karen Wheeler stood at the stove flipping pancakes, scolding her husband for discussing it in front of the kids. 

Suddenly, you paused with your glass of orange juice poised at your lips and muttered the name Alton Coleman with a vacant look in your eyes. Days later, Alton Coleman was apprehended. 

Karen and Ted Wheeler had missed it, luckily. But when Nancy had pressed you on the issue, wondering if you were tapped into some latent psychic ability that you and her could use to fight crime, you'd disappointed the girl by informing her that one of the last things you'd seen on TV before you “leapt” was a documentary about Alton Coleman. And it had only stuck with you because you'd gone over your actions in your last days at Nellis with Owens until you were blue in the face.

Then there was the style stuff. You seemed totally confused about what you referred to as “big, crispy hair,” not to mention your general aversion to spandex and high-waisted jeans. 

You wore your hair with minimal volume, kept your clothes and makeup neutral, toned down, boring. 

Nancy thought it was because you’d been to Catholic school and you were “demure” as she put it.

But Steve had quickly clocked that you thought everything around you was cheesy and dated but you didn’t want to stand out or accidentally make a statement by dressing from your own time. So you dressed like a bland schoolmistress and let Jonathan make you mixtapes because a constant rotation of Top 40 artists eventually set your teeth on edge. 

You stopped telling Steve who the one-hit-wonders were because he was really rooting for Dexy’s Midnight Runners and he got all salty when you told him. 

Nobody tried to meet you where you were at culturally, because all of you were a little worried that if you divulged secrets from the future, it would create some kind of extra rip in the universe. So you kept your trap shut except to say that you didn’t really like your time either and that, really, the ‘80s weren’t so bad in some ways. 

Plus, you practically drooled at the sight of Eddie Van Halen and Mickey Rourke whenever you got the opportunity. They were so hot, you'd lament in a pained wail at the TV, as if you weren't living in the very time in which they were dropping your panties. 

Steve rolled his eyes every time you did this. Little Miss Catholic School swooning over rock stars and greasers. How original. Your crush on Spock from Star Trek…Well that broke up the cliché a little.

Steve slowly started to feel more at ease around you, distracting himself with his romance with Nancy. 

And you started to branch out, making friends outside of the people that knew too much for their own good.

You started wearing acid-washed denim over bolder colors, teasing your hair a bit, adopting high-waisted jeans (which made your ass look delectable, Steve grudgingly noticed - as did Allen Miles, apparently). 

You were still on the shy, mild side, but you weren't such a wallflower. People knew you by face and name now. 

Steve thought being from the future made you naturally more magnetic or something. Like you were always two moves ahead of everyone. That made him kind of nervous, though, so he still watched you in his periphery.

He told himself it was to make sure you didn’t slip up and involve anyone else in your freakish situation. He’d watch you in the cafeteria, the courtyard, laughing with your small circle of casual pals, looking for any indication that you were spilling your guts and making yourself look like a headcase in the process. 

Best case scenario, you’d wind up in an asylum or something. Worst case, you’d end up in a gulag with electrodes inserted in every square inch of visible flesh. Months of his low-key recon suddenly became moot the night of the Halloween party in ‘84. 

Steve had just had his heart crushed by Nancy in a spectacular fashion, when he pulled over on his way home.

He was trying to stave off waves of fresh pain in his chest, sat at the wheel of his car, gulping air, willing the sting of rejection to sink to the depths of his loafers. Toto’s Africa provided the soundtrack to his misery.

He startled at a gentle rapping at his window. He looked up to see you, haloed in the streetlight, wearing a copper lamé dress with a high split in the leg and a dip at the shoulder. Your eyes were smoked out, making your confused glare even more intense. 

Possessed Dana Barrett, you’d explained, offering him a bite of your candy apple. He refused it, so you chucked it out the window into a storm drain, licking your sticky fingers. 

You'd taken Nancy's little brother and his friends trick-or-treating and they'd cajoled you into being Possessed Dana Barrett to round out the Ghostbusters cast. You wanted to be Slimer but you didn't know how to pull it off on such short notice, and Joyce Byers had loaned you this gown from the days of disco, and why was he so long in the face, anyway?

Steve was just desperate enough to ask you to hang out at his, which turned into a request for you to stay over at his. He'd never had his heart broken by someone he’d chosen, and part of him wanted to hide. 

But he knew going home to his empty house and the silence would taunt him. You went along with it easily. You almost didn't even seem confused as to why he was asking you. 

You washed your face and used a spare toothbrush he had. The sleeves of the pajama top he'd long since outgrown still reached past your fingertips. He'd stared at you as you rolled them up your forearms, one leg crossed over the other, hanging off the edge of his bed.

It felt strange but comforting and he allowed himself to wonder if he'd ever get to see a lover or even his wife do those same dainty motions in a bigger bed. In a shared bed, one day. He wondered if he'd remember the sight of you, right now.

You and him were laying in his bed, top and tail - platonic 69’ing, you'd joked, immediately clearing your throat when Steve didn't laugh -, when you broke the silence telling him, “Talk to her. In a couple days. She was drunk, Steve, she didn't know what she was saying.” 

He had to remind himself that you were talking about him and Nance.

“She was hurtfully clear about it,” he retorted. A beat passed before you offered an anecdote about your first time getting drunk at a Christmas party on base. 

You'd snuck a bunch of drinks with some other Air Force brats throughout the night before loudly declaring to a room full of military families that you were going to invent the hoverboard from Back to the Future. 

Steve didn't know what Back to the Future was and you quickly corrected course, telling him to get some sleep. 

That was the night the two of you became something like friends. 

The next day he woke up with the red painted toe nails of one of your feet lodged in the crook of his arm. He didn’t hate it. 

Mere days later, after you'd blocked Lucas Sinclair’s body with your own and gotten Billy Hargrove’s backhand for your trouble, after he'd watched you clutch the Mother Mary medallion around your neck and recite whispered, rushed prayers to a god you scarcely believed in in the back of an abandoned school bus before fighting otherworldly monsters alongside him, and going back into that hell mouth because you'd been down there before and couldn't let the rest go in without knowing what they were up against…

Steve felt ready to let Nancy go. 

He still cared for her, he still didn't like how it ended, but his world felt bigger and less stifling now. And he didn't need to hold onto the last dregs of something that would stay just that…dregs. There were possibilities all around him. He didn't want to cling to someone that didn't want him back.

Yours and Steve's friendship was quietly strengthened over two more reality-rocking apocalypses. One of those included his initiation to the Back to the Future franchise. “Ooooh,” he'd loudly declared in the theater, finally understanding your reference while off his face on Russian truth serum. You’d looked over at him with bleary eyes, shooting him finger guns, grateful for the vindication.

In between, and after the mall fire, there were lots of jokes, cookouts, Midwest adventures and plenty of heretofore platonic 69ing in his bed. Top and tail sleepovers followed by rote, cozy breakfasts at the county’s diners. 

You would mewl a miserable sleep song on those mornings until he reminded you of the very existence of French toast.

 Sometimes it was just the two of you, sometimes your friends joined. But it was almost agonizing in its closeness and familiarity. And it grew out of the impossible.

A shrink could have told Steve that the bitching between the two of you that occasionally oozed to the surface like liquid rock was a trauma response. The shrink would have gone on to explain that Steve was projecting his fears onto you because you were an easy target. You'd experienced it together and he had access to you. And Steve would need to find another shrink because he'd know they were only half-right. 

Yes, you'd become fixtures in each other's lives and had shared experiences out of the ordinary. But the same could be said of Robin or Dustin or Eddie, etc. and yes, he mother-henned them all, but when it came to you, he couldn't be talked out of it. Because as important as Robin or Dustin or Eddie, etc. were to him, it was your ass that he couldn't seem to crawl out of, and it annoyed you as much as anyone else.

You'd been very sweet and mellow about it up to this point, but things were getting confusing between you two. Hence the pool noodle incident and passive aggressive defiance.

You started buttoning your shirt up just for something to do with your good hand and after a prolonged and uncomfortable silence, Steve spoke. “Allen Miles,” he said simply.

You stopped at the top button of your blouse. “Allen Miles,” you parroted back.

You saw the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. “Allen…Miles,” he tried again, testing the name on his tongue.

You picked at your cast, tracing the well-wishes in Robin's loopy chicken scratch with your thumb. “Is a person that exists,” you said flaty, as if to staunch whatever shit was about to come out of his mouth next.

“Allen Miles is a douche-dick,” he sing-songed quietly enough that you could have pretended not to hear.

Unbelievable. You sniffed at the insult. “What'd Allen Miles ever do to you?”

“Why'd he give you a ride today?” he asked, dodging the question. “You could have piled in with everyone else.” Ugh. He sounded like Hop.

The simplicity and faux-calmness of the statement took you aback. Was he for real right now? “He works at the rec center on Saturday mornings and I had physio-therapy there today. He offered,” you countered, trying not to sound as defensive as you felt - though the words came out in a rapid stream almost as if they’d been rehearsed (they weren’t). You bit the inside of your cheek. An argument was a-brewin.’

Steve turned off the narrow highway onto the skinny, heavily-wooded trail to the cabin. He was seething and neither of you knew why. “So he waited for you to get done with PT?” 

“No,” you shot back, not fully understanding the anger under his line of questioning. “His shift ended a half hour after I was done. I waited for him.”

A scoff. “He made you wait for him?” He posed the question as if it was the most distasteful thing he could imagine.

“He didn’t make me do anything! He didn't have to drive me in the first place!”

“Well then why didn’t you come to the store! If you were waiting for a ride, you could have waited for me!”

“That would have taken hours! What is your problem?”

“Just-” Steve took a deep breath, flicking his gaze to you briefly as the Bimmer trundled down the beaten path to the cabin. “I just wonder about Miles, ya know? He’s a little sleazy around you, what if he just wants to get in your pants? What if he’d-”

Steve was the Larry Bird of cutting himself off, apparently.

“What if he’d made a move?” you offered.

“Exactly,” Steve said, pointing at you.

“What if he had?” you questioned honestly.

The cabin came into view, mercifully, only a moment later. Your head was swimming. Steve had been acting so short with you the last few weeks. It had ramped up when you’d broken the arm.

It was a stupid accident, really. Max had begged you to take a run on the skateboard, something you’d never done. She’d egged you on and you’d done it and you’d gone flying over a stop skid in the church parking lot. 

She had to run into the church and have the secretary call you an ambulance. In hindsight, you were lucky you hadn’t broken your face open. You knew when to take a W, so you didn’t dwell on the possibilities too much.

Steve had heard you were in the hospital and had a conniption. Granted, he hadn’t stayed on the phone with Max long enough to hear It’s just her arm, she’s fine. 

You’d been hopped up on morphine and called him a fruit loop for getting his panties in such a twist. 

And ever since then, you two had been walking a razor’s edge. Where it had once been easy to diffuse your little tiffs, you seemed to be perpetually living under one another’s skin. 

Steve threw the car in park and whipped over to face you. “What do you mean what if he had?” You did not appreciate the falsetto that his voice had taken on to impersonate you. 

“I mean what I said, Steve! What is your deal?”

“He could be a total dirt bag, Teenie!”

You sighed to yourself and pinched the bridge of your nose. You were suddenly so tired. “He didn’t make a pass at me, Steve. He was very sweet and cordial and I got there in one piece and I really need you to back off right now, please.”

This was it. This was your limit. You wanted to crawl out of your skin. You huffed quietly to yourself before telling Steve “I need you to not talk to me for a while, okay?” And at that, you grabbed your bag from between your feet and got out of the car.

You heard Steve government-name you before you closed the door and skulked toward the cabin. The tears came fast and you were grateful that Steve didn’t follow you. Instead he gripped his steering wheel and internally scolded himself for everything that had just transpired. 

Steve knew he wasn’t always the brightest, but how? How did he always end up shooting himself in the foot? He chanced a look at the cabin and lingered for a moment after he saw the light in the mudroom off the side that served as your sleeping quarters had turned on. 

He gave more than a passing thought to going in after you, but he wasn’t going to fuck it further by pushing you when you’d explicitly asked for space. Plus, he was chastised, but he was still fussy, and he didn’t fully trust himself to not keep digging this hole deeper. 

After a moment, he gathered himself and left the property, turning up the radio and letting Talk to Me by Stevie Nicks rub the salt in as he made his way back to his empty house. 

Inside the cabin, you watched Steve’s headlights disappear as you wrestled your Detroit Red Wings jersey over your cast. It was the only sleep shirt that you could get over your cast at the moment. 

Your tears had subsided, slurped back up into your tear ducts for the sheer fact that you didn’t want to waste anymore tears on Steve Harrington. 

He probably didn’t know it, the beautiful dolt, but over the years that you’d known him, he’d kept pushing on the same bruise, and it had gotten even more difficult for you to cope. 

He'd gone for the throat harping on Allen Miles, whom you were not interested in like that. Steve's over-the-top paternalistic revulsion at the thought of you getting some hurt your feelings and made you feel like he'd only ever see you as a fragile little sister figure that he needed to coddle. Like your having sex was some kind of aberration. 

Having him treat you that way with the way you felt about him twisted your heart.

You were tired of having a big and important part of you ignored. A part that you’d never talked with anyone, especially Steve, in great detail. The sexual part. The (gag) sensual part. You were eighteen going on forty-eight, already whinging internally about how you were a woman™ dammit and you had needs™. 

You weren’t seasoned, by any means. You’d had a handful of secret fumbles with secret partners and you’d made discoveries about yourself. 

A of all- and this one you’d suspected since puberty hit - you got turned on easily. Like sloppy, soppy, pushing down on your vulva like you were hiding a boner turned on. And for no reason.

Sometimes it happened when you saw Eddie Van Halen on MTV or Mickey Rourke in Rumble Fish or LeVar Burton on the cover of TV Guide. 

Sometimes it happened when you had to go to a stupid school spirit assembly and had to look at boys in their stupid, short basketball shorts and/or girls in their cheerleading regalia. 

Sometimes it happened when you watched Eddie’s band practice in Gareth’s garage and saw the young Munson trash around all sweaty, handling his guitar expertly.

Once, it had happened when you saw Robin throw a balled up Dixie Cup into a bin at a considerable distance and she’d celebrated excessively and it was cute. 

You knew you didn't want to fuck Eddie or Robin -it would be weird beyond weird. It's just that you could appreciate them.

The same way you appreciated the nasty smacking noises Nancy and Jon made when they were making out in what they thought was a private moment and you knew they were gonna bang later. 

Your friends did sexy things, and sometimes it turned you on.

Mostly, though, it happened with Steve. At least once a day (usually more), he did something that accidentally got you going. A hand on his hip, and hand through his hair, a smirk, a wink, a smile, a whisper in your ear, a casual touch on the small of your back. 

This was to say nothing of how he made you feel emotionally. How unguarded and at peace you felt when he was around. How physical closeness felt as natural as breathing, and you were not hugged enough as a child, so that was saying something. 

Sometimes you'd give each other long lingering hugs and it made you wish you could fuse your flesh to his. You wanted to be his Kuato, always melded to his tummy. And you knew it was weird but so what? Nobody needed to know.

B of all - you liked being touched. And snogged. And railed. And held tight. Which you discovered on your own and in secret, no thanks to Steve. Because Steve usually had a squeeze waiting in the wings somewhere. 

And even when he didn’t, he was preoccupied either with healing from his first great heartbreak or pondering how to rebound from said great heartbreak. Despite your raging hormones, you knew you wanted nothing to do with either of those. So you outsourced your sexual energy.

As soon as you'd gotten over your hangups about the cheesy, neon, teased to high-hell vomit pile that was the 1980s in America, and you'd leaned into it just a little bit, you started getting noticed. And you discovered, thanks to Francis and David and Chelsea (separately), that you did not just enjoy sex in theory, but also in practice. 

The kicker, though, was that while you physically enjoyed the sex that you’d had, you realized when you were coming down from the high that something might be missing. You could have an orgasm that you felt in your very boots, but you wouldn’t ever ask the person that had just rocked your world to drive you to the airport or buy you French toast, much less trust them with your heart. 

Your stupid, stupid heart. It beat for a boy that seemed to think you had the sex life of a castrato.

You flopped down on your bed and stared at your ceiling. You felt kind of bad brushing Steve off like that, even demanding that he not talk to you. 

You hadn't chanced a look back at his face when you'd left his car, but you knew you would have seen that hardened, confused look that he got when he was hurt. That look that always crushed you and made you want to kiss his face and whisper sweet words until he broke out into that cocky grin of his.

You rolled over and closed your eyes, wishing he was next to you, that you could feel his weight and body heat, that you were holding him by the crook of his elbow and pressing your face into his bicep. That you could somehow transmit your thoughts without speaking them out loud and that he would at least be gentler with you and not infer that you were sexless anymore. Even if he didn’t want you like that.

You settled into that lukewarm fantasy, of the memory of him, and let yourself drift to sleep.

(⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

Steve was sitting on his floor leaned against his bed, holding one of his most prized worldly possessions. It was a candid Polaroid of the two of you.

It was taken at the fair last year. It was a little overexposed with the lights from the rides surrounding you, but the figures of you two were clear as day.

In the photo, Steve was holding your wrist to his chest with a crooked grin, mouth poised near your ear. It looked like he'd just whispered something to you. Your head was crooked to the side and down, like you were trying to worm away from his grasp, your eyes closed with the intensity of your laugh. Your face was glowing with the fair lights and there was a streak of white on your cheek. You both looked sublimely happy.

Steve smiled at the memory. You'd made a game of forcing bits of funnel cake into his mouth when he wasn't paying attention when finally, he'd caught you before your next “attack” and smeared powdered sugar from the pastry onto your cheek as revenge.

His first thought when Jonathan had presented him with the memento at the end of that night was that he was looking at you like a boy in love and he wondered how many times he'd been caught looking at you like that, without photographic evidence.

The bitter memory of you telling him I need you to not talk to me for a while roared back into his consciousness and slapped him in the face. You'd sounded hurt, on top of being pissed. 

Did you really want to date Allen Miles? You said he hadn't made a pass at you. Did it hurt your feelings because he didn't make a pass at you and Steve had just dug the knife in more? He'd throttle Miles if he'd hurt your feelings. Fuck that guy.

Or were you worried about Steve's opinion of your choice in boyfriends? Was Allen your type? What was your type? He knew Eddie Van Halen and Mickey Rourke and LeVar Burton were your type but that weird trinity did not clarify things for him.

Steve tried to recall what, besides his shortness with you, could have triggered you to react the way that you did. By now, he knew that whatever it was, it was his fault. He would love to pawn the blame off on you but you were usually blameless, especially to him. You were sweet and gentle and always seemed to anticipate and prioritize other people’s needs at your own peril. 

He'd given you space like you asked but it had been a couple days now. He was starting to feel like he was jonesing. 

He was hoping you would have come to visit him at the video store by now, jumping on his back and hugging him like a koala, whispering in his ear that all was forgiven and things could go back to normal, like how they were before you'd broken your arm.

But when Steve thought about things going back the way they were, it made his brain itch. He felt like something was totally different and the two of you couldn't go back if you wanted to. Moreover, he didn't know if he did want to. He wanted…

Steve's thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. He slid the Polaroid of you two back into his bedside drawer and hastily picked up the receiver. Please be her, please be her, please be her. 

“Hello?”

“Steve?” 

Nance. “Nance?” Fuck it all. Steve bit back his disappointment. “What's up?”

“Is Teenie over at yours? I tried to call her but El said she's not home but she's not working today, either. I know Robin was scheduled at the store today. I thought she might be with you.”

Steve's jaw clenched involuntarily. Were you with Allen Miles? 

“Um,” Steve said with a little choke. “No, no. She's not here. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything's good. It's just that I was emptying the cooler and I found that Mother Mary medallion she always wears? It must have slipped off her neck. It was her grandmother's and I thought she might be bugging out thinking it was lost forever and-”

“I'll come get it,” Steve interrupted. He was already pulling his sneakers on. “You gonna be home for a minute?”

“Oh.” A pause. “It's no big deal, Steve, I'm running Mike to the cabin tomorrow, I can just drop it off then.”

Steve was pacing now, thinking he might be losing his line back to you. You did love that necklace even though you'd abandoned the Church forever ago. Your grandmother was the only person from back “home” that you were sentimental about - and she'd died not long before you'd ended up here. 

That necklace was the only tangible piece of your former life that you really cared about. Maybe you'd be more inclined to listen or even share oxygen with him if he brought it back to you.

“Uh, it's cool. She actually left her uh,” Steve began, looking around the room then down at his feet, “uh, her shoes, yeah. She left them in my car when I dropped her off the other night.” Lie.

He heard Nancy laugh, a little disbelievingly. “She left her shoes in your car.” It came out as a statement.

“Psh, yeah. They were all sandy from the beach and she hates the feeling of leftover sand in between her toes.” Half lie. You had told him that, once. “Anyway, I'll be by in like ten.” 

“Ste-”

Steve dropped the receiver back in the cradle and made a mad dash for Nancy’s. Nancy was waiting for him on the front step when he arrived. When she dropped the necklace in his waiting palm, he held it gingerly and stared at it like a holy relic.

Nancy cleared her throat. Steve met her eyes and he could see something like suspicion dancing behind them, along with a little smirk. “You better go find Teenie. Poor girl’s walking around without shoes, afterall.”

Nancy was always too smart for her own good - or anyone else’s for that matter. He thanked her as if she’d given him the world and went on his merry way. 

(⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

Steve decided to make a pitstop back at his house instead of going right over to yours. He’d been planning on going to the cabin and waiting for you if you hadn’t gotten home yet. 

But after he left Nancy’s, he thought that this might not be the move. You were really mad at him and he wanted to show you that he could listen and respect your wishes.

He spent a good twenty minutes pacing around his living room trying to come up with a gameplan on how to return your necklace without ruffling your feathers further. 

Maybe he should buy you an obnoxiously large teddy bear? 

No, if you hated it, he would be stuck with an over-large, cutesy reminder of his failure. 

Or maybe he could hire one of those dorky barbershop quartets to show up at work and sing you a song about how he knew he was a dipshit, but you meant so much to him, please take him back?

 No, no. You would die of embarrassment and probably haunt him for the rest of his days. 

He was still holding your necklace, gripping his hair by the roots when he heard the doorbell. 

Maybe it was Dustin or Eddie. Maybe he could bounce some ideas off them, he thought as he jogged toward the door. 

He opened it and felt the air leave his lungs when he saw you standing there. You were staring up at him, eyes wide, swaying your shoulders a little bit the way you did when you were nervous. 

You were wearing his favorite dress of yours. This beige thing with tie straps and red flowers on it. The first time he’d seen you wear it, you’d been all dolled up in a way that was almost salacious. Now you wore your hair down with barely a stitch of makeup on and Steve thought you looked…

“Hi,” you said shyly. 

“Hi,” he said back, his voice sounding small in his ears. He cleared his throat, hoping that if he found his voice again, he wouldn’t sound so broken. “Come in?”

You didn’t hesitate, thankfully. You walked past him, minding your cast and stopped in the foyer before you turned to him. You shrugged one shoulder bashfully. 

“Nancy said you had my necklace.” Your face scrunched up in confusion. “Also, something about shoes?”

Steve pushed the door shut and walked over to you. 

“Uh, yeah, I might have lied to her and said you left your shoes in my car so I’d have an excuse to take custody of your necklace.” 

The confusion on your face deepened. 

Steve held your necklace out to you and you let him drop it into your good hand.

You both stood there for an awkward moment. “I missed you,” you said.

Steve felt his heart soar and opened his mouth to respond but you cut him off. 

“Will you help me?” you asked, holding up the necklace and then your cast to make your point. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said, rushing to your back. You handed him the necklace and bunched your hair up in a fist, holding it out of the way. 

Steve took a moment to appreciate the back of your neck, the downy hairs at your hairline, the little birthmark at the junction of your shoulder. He looped the necklace around you and clasped it, checking that the spring in the clasp was still sound.

“All set,” he said. 

You spun around to meet him and he saw you touch the pendant at your decolletage with a little smile. “Thank you.”

“I missed you too,” Steve rushed out, hands shoved in his back pockets.

The look you gave him back was soft and dazed and he felt his heart kick in his chest. You cocked your head at him. “Why were you so upset about Allen, Stevie?”

Steve didn’t detect even a hint of anger in your question. You just kept staring at him softly. Steve walked over to the couch and perched himself against the backrest. His thumbs rubbed dual patterns on the suede upholstery while he thought up a response. The best he could come up with was “Do you like him? Allen, I mean? Like…romantic-wise?”

He glanced up at you bashfully, dreading the answer he was sure would come.

Your eyes narrowed, but not meanly. You walked over to him and planted your hip against the couch next to him. 

“No,” you said, simply.

Steve released a relieved exhale from deep in his chest. You weren’t done, though. “But Stevie, why…I mean why did you get so mad at the thought of Allen and I together?”

Steve felt his eyes bug out but tried to school his expression into something less obvious. He shrugged when he finally met your eyes again. “Teenie, I just.” He wet his bottom lip. You wore the same soft, contemplative expression but he thought he could see your breathing kick up as you waited for him to finish. 

Steve was right. You were trying to stop yourself from hyperventilating. You hadn’t come over here to confront Steve, not really. You really just wanted to see him again and figure out what he was playing at, purloining your necklace from Nancy in an obvious attempt to get back in your good graces. It would have been a cute gesture if you weren’t so worried about what was coming next. 

But two days of feeling like your brain was leaking for its singular fixation on your Stevie and how much you missed him had finally gotten the best of you. You came round the moment you could. You knew it was time to face the music, come what may. 

“I just want…whoever you hang out with or end up being with…I just want them to treat you with respect. And I want you to have fun and feel safe and…”

God, he was beautiful. Didn’t he know? How could he not know?

Steve seemed to be at a loss for words now, so you offered some.

 “I could have those things with you,” you breathed out almost dreamily.

Steve's eyes went wide again and you felt like your heart was going to break because that look could have meant…so many things. Not all of them good.

You backed away from his side slowly, ready to make a break for it, but Steve caught you gently by the upper arms and stood at his full height. He stared at you like you were a brand new lifeform.

“Teenie?” he said in a too-tiny voice.

You were looking right into the void, free-falling into the hinterworld of your own heart.

“Stevie, do you think of me like a little sister?”

Steve's eyebrows shot up with something like horror before he cleared his throat and shook away some thought known only to him. 

“Ew, no, Teen.”

You bit your lip and stamped your foot just a little bit, feeling a little unmoored. You worried suddenly that you wouldn't get the answers you wanted. 

Steve had loosened his grip on you just a smidge. He was absently stroking your arms with his thumbs.

“One of the kids then. Dustin or Max or-”

“No,” he answered immediately, shaking his head decisively. “No.” 

And you knew. You knew he meant it.

You backed away, feeling singed by his sincerity. You paced the length of the runner behind the couch and slid a nail along your cast making little zipzipzip noises to fill the quiet. You turned to him after a moment.

“So what's happening with us. Why are we being so weird with each other?” 

Steve put his hands on his hips. “You broke your ass, Teenie,” he said sternly. “It could have been your head!”

“It wasn't though, it wasn't my head!” Your voice had a desperate edge. “Way crazier stuff has happened to me, to both of us! All our friends…”

He looked at you like you were speaking a different language. He shut his eyes tight like he was willing the memories away. He gathered himself quickly.

“Right, and if things had gone differently, we don't know what could have happened!”

Both of you were breathing hard, tears stinging your eyeballs. It's like you had awoken a sleeping beast by merely mentioning its existence.

Steve gestured into the air and stared into the distance as he continued. He was so fuckin’ pretty, you thought then. Even when he had big fuckin’ feelings that his pretty fuckin’ self couldn't contain in his pretty fuckin' meat prison.

“Every time something happens to you, it's like I can't stop thinking about it.” Steve's tented his fingers at his temples to demonstrate his point, eyes wide and unblinking like there was a movie playing behind his eyes that he couldn't look away from.

You started taking slow, tiny steps toward him, like he was a wounded rabbit and you didn't want to frighten him off. You wanted to hold him. 

“I spin out and I can't stop thinking about you dying.” 

Two more tiny, furtive steps toward him.

“Or being born.”

“Oh, Stevie-” Wait. “Wait, being born? What?”

Steve had pulled at his hair and it was messy in that perfect way. 

“Your birthday, Teenie.” He said it both frantically and like you were dumb for not following. “It's 1986, your birthday is less than two years away and we don't know.” He practically whimpered your name, willing you to understand.

It hit you then. You'd forgotten yourself for a minute, how absurd your life was. The very thing that was whispered among your friends and found family - spoken in a hushed manner for fear of speaking it into reality (or causing you an existential crisis.) You always heard them, though. 

You had almost…almost found it funny how nobody seemed to think that the thought didn't cross your mind at three in the morning most nights.

The question of what would happen when the day of your birth - the one on your original, undoctored birth certificate that you'd left in a banker box back on Nellis AFB - finally rolled around. The day you would find out to what extent you were an actual paradox. If having been evicted from your mother's womb on that day would cause you to be slurped back into the Upside Down…Or if you would blink out of existence.

But the question hadn't woken you up since Spring Break. Because the positive to having a psionic demon vampire picking apart your psyche is that sometimes you got good intel.

You felt so warm all of a sudden, watching Steve watch you with his eyes wide and desperate and his scrumptious lips pushed into a sad pout, looking so young. You'd never been so touched in all your life.

You strode over to him and pulled his collar to encourage him down, closer to your height.

His arms looped around your middle. It was automatic. The half-crazed look on his face dropped away, replaced by an expression that told you he was taken aback but that he didn't hate this.

“I love you,” you declared, firm and resolute, yet quaky with emotion. You hoped he knew that this wasn't like the other times you said it. And that you could table the birthday discussion until after…

You squeezed his face and pushed your mouth into his as you looped your broken arm around his neck.

Steve gathered your hair away from your face and returned the kiss without a moment’s hesitation.

His mouth was warm and soft and a little tacky from how he'd been licking his lips nervously moments before. Your lip balm provided just the right amount of slide for your lips to tangle together perfectly.

Steve stumbled with you in his arms against the nearest wall. You took great care not to accidentally dicknail him in the side of the head with your cast as he hoisted you up, cradling your thighs in his hands.

Through his panting, he managed, “Do you mean it?”

Both of you knew what he meant. Did you mean I love you? Did you mean the kiss? The answer to both was a resounding fucking yes.

“Yes, Stevie. I want this. I want you so bad-”

Steve dive-bombed your mouth with his own, caressing your tongue with his. You opened your mouth wider to let him riff on it. 

You shuddered when you felt his crotch press into yours. The feeling of his hardening cock pressed into the space that was rapidly becoming drenched with your horniness and love for this boy combined with the slipperiness of your tongues moving together was beyond your wildest dreams.

Steve couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe that the only thing standing between you two and your mutual desire to jam yourselves together like you were trying to fuse into a superbeing was that you thought he didn't think you were sexy or mature or whatever the fuck. 

If his blood supply wasn't rushing to his crotchal region right now, he might have done some psychological forensics to figure out how you'd arrived at that conclusion.

And fuck him if you didn't know what you were doing. This clearly wasn't your first heavy make out. Normally, that thought would make him jealous as all hell. But he could feel it. The rightness of this and he knew it didn't matter.

He pulled back from your mouth and let himself stare at you shamelessly. Your mouth was kiss-bitten and -oh - you already had this sexy, flushed glow painted from your cleavage to your cheeks. 

You wore a beautifully profane expression, half-helpless and half-threatening as in I'm going to eat you if you don't eat me first. Your irises looked almost feline.

He stole one more kiss from you before he hoisted you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. He expected you to protest but you just grunted slightly at the impact and braced yourself as much as you could for what turned out to be a short commute to Steve's room. You were too turned on to question his method.

Steve deposited you on the bed and you scrambled up to your knees to pull him forcefully into another kiss where he stood. You started nipping and biting sucking at his earlobes, his jaw, his neck, his chest.

Steve felt almost overwhelmed. This the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. You two were feral for each other and probably would have looked completely insane if you’d had an audience. Unlike his previous encounters, nothing about this felt stilted or transactional or lopsided.

In spite of how erotic it was, though, it also felt tender. Like this thread between you had been pulling taut for god knew how long before it had almost snapped. And as soon as you'd stopped resisting it, it pulled you into one another. He needed to be sure that you felt the same, though. He wouldn't risk another communication breakdown.

He pulled your face away from his neck by your hair and you looked startled but not displeased. Your lips curled into a dozy smile at the show of force. Steve was all business, though.

“How far do you want this to go?” You both chose to ignore the way his voice gave a little.

You swallowed as you stroked his chest. “Um, well, I really want you to make love to me but, like…I'll take whatever you give me.”

Steve closed his eyes in quiet supplication to whatever force was allowing this.

He smiled at you with his tongue poking at the back of his teeth. You returned it with a goofy giggle. God, you two were idiots.

“Game on then, baby,” Steve said.

Steve insisted on going down on you. You didn't strictly need it. You were so turned on that you could already feel that ache inside where you'd opened up to receive him.

You were almost worried that you might end up accidentally waterboarding him with your cunt for how wet you were already, but you needn’t have worried.

After he'd fluffed the pillows behind your shoulders and pulled your soaked panties off of you, he didn't waste a minute exploring down there with little kisses and bites to your thighs before he finally dove in and got to work. 

Within minutes he had you shivering and moaning, letting nonsense fuck language spill from your lips as you scratched his scalp in little circles. 

Steve was painfully hard in his shorts but he would have stayed down here for millenia if you'd let him.

Soon, you were gripping his wrist and writhing. Your legs were bent and rigid like a Barbie doll's but quaking with the intensity of your orgasm.

You let a sharp cry escape from your chest. It was high-pitched and wild and unguarded and it was the most beautiful sound Steve had ever heard.

He looked up at you. Your head was resting at an angle like it was too heavy for you to hold up. He let himself enjoy the sight. 

With your eyes still closed, as though you were in a deep trance, you started groping with your good hand, uncoordinated at your shoulders until you found the tie straps on your dress and undid them.

Without communicating it out loud, Steve pinched the fabric of your dress's bodice while you lifted up on your elbows so he could pull it down.

God, you were beautiful. Not just your tits. Yes, your tits were insane, but it was just you. Every inch of you, every plane on your body and, outside of your physical form, your gravity and orbit. He would never escape them and he didn't want to.

Steve crawled up your body, leaving smooches up your tummy and along your breasts and neck until he got to your mouth. You pulled him into you, kissing him stupid.

“Off,” you said bossily, breaking the kiss. Tugging at his collar. “These, too,” you insisted, pinching the cuff of his jeans between your toes.

Steve chuckled and pulled the shirt over his head. He got to work on his belt, kissing the tip of your nose.

“You want it like this?” he asked, indicating the missionary position you were in.

He got his belt free and shimmied his jeans away and down the bed, not wanting to leave you.

You bit your lip, eyes cast down lustfully, and Steve noticed you were checking out the tent in his boxers. 

He snickered. “My eyes are up here.”

You giggled at him, flicking his nose.

You two settled into a cozy silence and just stared at each other. You cleared your throat. “My favorite is being on top, usually,” you began. “But it might be hard with this.” You lifted your casted arm.

Steve deliberated for a moment. You could have told him you liked it upside down on a hammock and he would have found a way to make it so. But the thought of you riding him was making his dick weep. He would make that so, no problem.

“Teenie-on-top it is.” He gave your naked thigh a couple of light slaps. “Up,” he instructed.

You pushed up onto your knees as he leaned over to his nightstand, extracting a loose condom packet. He stood up and pulled his boxers down. 

When he looked at you, you were sitting on your haunches, knees splayed wide. Your arms were limp at your sides, hair a fucked out mess. You stared at his cock with what looked to him like reverence, mouth agape. 

“Oh, Marone,” you whispered to yourself with a gulp, fisting your hair at the scalp.

Steve snorted. You were so cute it made his chest hurt. He explained his plan as he ripped the condom foil open and rolled it over his cock.

“I'm going to hold you up so you don't put weight on the arm. I've got you, just trust me, ‘kay?”

He didn't know if you'd been paying attention to what he said. You sprung up on your knees and collapsed into him and gave him a searing kiss on the mouth. “‘Kay.”

Steve slid into bed and guided you by your hips to straddle him. You held your casted arm off to the side, balancing like you were getting into a rowboat as you braced your good hand on his forearm.

“Good?” he asked.

You hummed as you began moving yourself over his cock. Steve's breath hitched, but he kept his grip on your hips firm as you acquainted your bits with his. 

Your slickness and his spit had cooled a little but soon he could feel a pool of warmth. He was at your entrance. Your skirt was ruched around your waist, the straps of it hanging limply. His favorite dress.

You locked eyes with him as you reached between you and guided him inside. You sheathed him in inside you completely, pretty much immediately. No adjustment period needed. Your body had waited long enough. 

Both of you had done so much waiting.

You rocked your pelvis against him, getting used to the sensations. It felt like coming home, it felt so right.

Steve’s cock was like a pleasure-seeking missile. It found enclaves in your body that you'd never have discovered on your own. 

Your cunt hugged him, letting you and him both know how rich the landscape of your body was. You could feel everything and everything felt so good. 

Steve was still holding onto your hips but he was squeezing his eyes shut and writhing and moaning. You really fucking knew what you were doing. Or maybe this was just a long time coming. Maybe it was destined.

The sounds of his moans were like a cool drink of water on the hottest day of the year. You wanted the sound bottled. You wanted to bathe in it.

You braced your good hand on his chest and gripped his elbow with the other as you changed up the angle and pace. He was caressing your g-spot now and when you moaned loudly at the sensation, he gripped you tighter, encouraging you to devour that feeling. Your clit found his mons and pretty soon, playtime was over.

You were both panting and moaning and before you knew it, you were right there. Your pussy was fluttering. Steve's stomach was taut, his upper body having gone rigid. His face was red and the veins in his forehead were prominent with his exertion. He was trying to delay his own orgasm until you were ready.

You folded over then, collapsing forward and cradling his head between your upper arms. Electric bubbles of happiness fizzed in every part of your cunt, sending effervescent kisses up your spine and down to your toes. You thought your broken arm might have healed, even.

“FuckStevieBaby,” you whined, pressing your forehead into the dip of his shoulder.

Steve was a goner. He moaned your name pathetically as he pistoned his hips up into you, helped by the wetness of your cum. Heat lightning overtook his body as he felt himself spill inside the condom and he saw sparkles.

Your skin was pasted to his with sweat.

You shakily made yourself up to a seated position and looked down at him like you were getting to see the Northern Lights for the first time. 

He returned the gaze. Except to him, you were the Northern Lights and the Milky Way and a lofty angel with wings of purple fire. Jesus, when did he get so poetic?

He sat up and wrapped you in his arms, kissing you and pulling you into a hug. It wasn't unlike the ones you'd shared before, nudity notwithstanding. 

It was a hug that said hi, I'm here, I've got you, always. 

You let your heart rates ramp down before he lifted you off his softening member, but keeping you in his lap. He drew circles on your sweaty back.

“I love you,” he said into your collarbone.

Your heart did a little dance in your naked chest.

“I love you, too. More than anything.”

Steve pulled you both down and situated it so you were both laying on your sides, facing the other. He clasped your hand in his.

“No, I mean I love you.” It was emphatic despite the sleepiness in his voice. “I'm in love with you and I want to keep you. I want us to do this. I want people to know we belong to each other.” 

If anyone else on planet earth had said those words to you after you'd just fucked, it would have sounded like cro magnon-freshly-emptied-balls possessiveness.

But not with him. It's like you could see tomorrow in his beautiful brown eyes. You two were finally, blessedly on the same page.

“I've belonged to you since…” you rolled your eyes upward like you were thinking, when really you actually knew… “Halloween ‘84.”

Steve smiled at your confirmation. But also in bemusement.

“The night me and Nancy-”

“It was when I was on your bed,” you interrupted. “Right here in this spot. I was rolling up the sleeves of that stripey old man PJ shirt you loaned me.”

“I remember,” he whispered, swallowing the emotions bubbling up.

“I saw you looking at me and for just a second, I let myself think…”

You had let yourself think, this feels so easy. I'm about to spend the night in a boy's bed for the first time and it feels so easy. What if he wasn't heartbroken? What if he didn't think you were a freak? What if you'd done this a before in a thousand and one lifetimes? That's how easy it felt.

“I never stopped being yours, Stevie.”

He scooched closer, ran his index finger down the bridge of your nose, kissing you one more time.

“I hope you never do.”

“I never will.”

Steve got a faraway look in his eye as he looked past your shoulder. 

He didn't want to burst this bubble, but if he felt this way now, what would it be like less than two years from now. Less than two years away.

You clocked it immediately, you little mind-reader. 

You couldn't let him stew in his fear anymore. You hadn't meant to drop the subject before, but you had the pressing matter of showing him how much you loved him to attend to.

“I'm not going back, you know.” 

His eyes shot to you, suddenly way more alert.

“How-”

“Creel.”

Steve propped himself up on his elbow and studied you. You never brought this up. In fact, if any of your family's little misadventures ever came up in conversation, even briefly, you would excuse yourself from the room. Everyone learned to keep that talk to a minimum around you.

Besides that, Steve didn't like talking about when you'd been Vecna’d. It had been in the same manner as Nancy had been. Not meant to destroy you but to show you things. When the group had asked you what you saw, you simply told them “me.”

At the time, you had made the executive decision that what you had been shown wasn't valuable to any fact-finding that would help you defeat your foe. And when you were pressed for more, when Dustin had accused you of a party infraction by withholding, you'd leveled him with a deadly glare and stated “Not this, Dustin. Not now.” You had been so uncharacteristically severe that everyone silently agreed to leave it.

You turned over on your back and stared at the ceiling. 

“Before Spring Break, I was having a really hard time.”

Steve remembered. The recesses of his memory held images of you looking off into the distance, refrains of sorry, what? whenever you got caught out. 

You'd buried yourself in schoolwork, picking up extra shifts at the bowling alley, packing your calendar with babysitting gigs. Like you were trying to erase every moment of idle time, pulling away from everyone.

Steve had worried but when he talked about it with Robin, she'd dismissed it as paranoia. Think about it, Steve, what's she's been through. It catches up. 

He figured Robin might know something he didn't, hurtful though it was. He'd dropped it.

“You were dating around and Nancy was missing Jon. El was gone, Hop was gone. Max was totally checked out. And I started wondering, like..”

Your eyes were wet, now, voice a little choked. Steve brushed your cheek and that seemed to give you the resolve to keep going.

“I started to worry that I would never find someone that could really know me. That I couldn't ever really move on and grow up because the people that did know me were all…” 

You gestured vaguely into the air.

“I felt so out of place all of a sudden. And for the first time since I got here I just wanted to go back. I wanted to go back to where I made sense. Even though I didn't like my life before…”

Steve's heart broke at the thought that you'd felt so abandoned. He could kick himself for being so flip about it back then.

Your story took you over then. It was so cemented in your mind, it might have been inscribed on tablets.

You'd blinked. One minute you were at the mouth of the gate. The next minute you were in some sort of cathedral. But it was in ruins. The exposed sky was red. The air was stale..lightning flashed a deeper crimson across the sky.

There were pews made of shaley stone. What would have once served as a wall was crumbled around the arrangement.

He stood at the pulpit, a stone monument, cracked with angry looking clefts glowing with smoldering fire. He clutched each side of it, staring you down.  

He breathed your name in a dulcet huff. 

“You don't belong. You belong nowhere. You're a reprobate. Abominable. An orphan in time.”

He was hideous. And massive. You hadn't seen him until now. You'd only heard conjecture on what his visage might look like.

He was slimy and twisted and hairless. The sinews of his skin were a swampy gray, eyes ringed with red. For his florid yet cruel indictment of you, he was foul. You could taste him just by looking at him.

You were paralyzed with revulsion and fear. You were worried that you might actually pee your pants.

“You have nowhere to return to. You absconded from your problems, as you've always done. But I have nothing but good news for you.” 

You glanced around, not daring to move your head. You only saw more waste, more nothingness, more anger and despair scratched into the landscape that surrounded you. You wanted to go home.

Suddenly you knew where home was. It had never been so clear. It was with the people that had held and kept you since you'd been sucked through a leak in space-time.

“You can make a home here. You can join my menagerie. You'll never suf-”

“Don't listen to him, Ladybug,” came a sharp, familiar voice behind you, coated in the accent of her mother country.

You spun to meet her eyes...Your grandmother was sitting on one of the rock pews. She looked as elegant and warm as ever. She was wearing the satin wrap dress she wore to Easter mass the last year she was alive.

You stumbled over to her. She stood and opened her arms as you fell into her.

Suddenly you forgot that you were in a red-tinged hell scape with a slimy vampire at your back. Wherever this was, wherever she was, was a sort of paradise.

You held her tight. You could smell her familiar shalimar perfume over the fetid ozone stink of this place. The wings of her upper arms were soft in the crooks of your elbows. She shushed your crying and stroked your hair.

It was her. You knew, beyond what it was to know, that it was her.

You heard Creel growl behind you, startling you out of your grandmother's arms. She held fast to you and tilted your chin to look at her. You heard the air around you twist like warped steel, Creel’s voice laced through it, muddled and distorted to something imperceptible.

“He is a liar. He will lie to deceive you.” Her accent made it sound like “day-seef.” 

You missed her. You missed the way she talked. You missed how severe she was when she wanted to make a point.

She'd found you. Outside of time and space and a living vessel, she'd found you in this hopeless place.

Her eyes burned into yours. “Your father is fine. He knows you are fine. He doesn't know how he knows, but I've seen to it.”

You could hear that desperate argumentative groaning trying to pierce through. Your head was hurting. You had pressure in your ears.

“Your place is with your friends. Never stop thinking of them and you will never lose.”

The world around you started to crumble and fall away. You saw those big spires of rock around you crash into the ground.

You gripped her hands that held your face. “I love you,” you sobbed.

She smiled at you as everything caved in. You closed your eyes and felt her kiss your forehead. 

When you opened them again, you saw Steve. He was cradling you and hyperventilating. He seemed to register that you were back. Relief washed over his face and his breathing returned to normal.

“Did I pee my pants?” 

Steve had the courtesy to glance down to your upper-thigh region.

“If you did, it must not have been a lot.”

You broke into a sob and let him hug you while your friends rallied to get you away from the gate.

From then on out, you heeded your grandmother’s advice. You never stopped thinking of your friends and you didn't fail…You got Hop and El back. 

You had your friends.

You had Steve.

You had shut your eyes while telling Steve the story but you opened them now. You turned your head to face him.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” you told him through tears. “I didn't know how.”

Steve didn't know what to say. He stared at you with gentle eyes. He didn't want you to cry anymore. 

He kissed you lightly and stroked your side. “It's okay. I get it.”

He did get it. He understood all at once why you couldn't tell them back then. You didn't want to make it about you. 

Max was still in danger. The world was still in danger. You'd been gifted a secret weapon that you had to wield and you didn't want anyone to hear what you'd seen and tell you that you'd been bamboozled by Creel and blunt your weapon with doubt. 

You'd known in your heart that it was real. Steve knew now because you knew. 

You were tired then. Well and truly sleepy. Steve accepted you into his arms.

You two fell into silence, breathing in tandem, stroking each other.

You felt Steve's chin wag on the top of your head when he asked “What do you think will happen on your 20th birthday?”

You smiled into his chest. You loved that Steve-flavored curiosity whenever it showed itself.

“I dunno, Stevie. Maybe nothing. But if anything does, you'll be there to find out with me, right?”

He scratched lines up your back as he answered.

“Can’t wait.”

(⁠/⁠^⁠-⁠^⁠(⁠^⁠ ⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠/

[sombersummerskies]

A Champion's Love: Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Royal Meeting Word Count: 4553 CW: None

Want all the chapters? -> Masterlist

~~~ <> ~~~

The journey to Zora’s Domain was rather grueling. Every corner you turned there was a Lizalfos trying to spear you, part of the road was blockaded by Octorocks trying to shoot at you, and at some point on one of the higher bridges a black Moblin had come out of nowhere in an attempt to surprise attack you.

Luckily, though, Prince Sidon had been speaking to you in that instant and managed to warn you in time. In fact, Sidon had been shown up many times along the way to reassure you. The constant encouragement was doing wonders for your confidence, and you were rather starting to like his cheery and upbeat demeanor.

You checked the map on your Sheikah Slate frequently to make sure you weren’t straying from the path. At one point you were walking up one of the higher points of the path, near a dam called the East Reservoir Lake. You could see a spout shooting up in the distance- but you couldn’t tell if it was some kind of steam or mist. It looked so concentrated that it almost seemed like a stream of water shooting in an upright direction, which seemed almost physically impossible.

Pulling yourself up over the rocks to investigate, you look over and gasp at what you see. Something massive was submerged in the dam’s water. You could see part of its body, clearly something man-made, with whirring, red-glowing parts. A large spout, almost like a trunk, was rising up out of the water, shooting a furious and constant flow of water up into the sky.

‘That’s the Divine Beast Vah Ruta… that’s what’s causing all the rain. That is much bigger than what I was imagining.’

You had a realization: the scope of the situation at hand and what was truly at stake. When you continued on the path to Zora’s Domain, you found your feet going at a quicker pace than beforehand.

…

Before long you found yourself walking along the Great Zora Bridge, and looking around in awe at the region before you. The architecture was astounding- it had been built using many luminous stones, no doubt. The massive fish statue at the top intimidated you just a tad. The whole place was just so… grandiose. And somehow it fit Sidon perfectly.

At the end of the bridge you made your way up the small set of stairs, having to hold onto the railing to avoid slipping as the entire place was covered in water, causing the smooth flooring to become quite slick beneath your boots.

The sight of Sidon running over to greet you causes you to smile widely. He walks through the arched entryway which was flanked on either side by a Zora guard. “I’ve been waiting for you!” he exclaimed bombastically, striking his signature pose as you took the few extra steps to approach you. The two guards beside him both chuckled, clearly amused with the Prince’s peppy behavior.

“Welcome! Behold the pride of my people, Zora’s Domain! Now I shall introduce you to the king. Hurry, this way!” he explained, before turning and heading up a tall staircase. You could only assume the king was somewhere beneath that large fish sculpture, it seemed to be a centerpiece of the area.

Passing by the two guards who both offered you quaint hellos, you made your way through the plaza, passing by young Zora’s who were running around a statue excitedly. You paused in front of the statue before heading up the stairs though, as something about it seemed to draw you in.

It was a tall statue of a gorgeous Zora woman. She held a meticulously carved trident in her hands, and looked down at you with an expression of sweet sincerity and care. Whoever carved the statue must’ve been quite fond of the woman it portrayed. She also looked a tad like Sidon, but you weren't sure if you were imagining that. Perhaps she was an ancestor of his, his mother or grandmother, or something along those lines.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something that felt familiar about her. You knew it was more than just the resemblance to Sidon. ‘Did I know her a hundred years ago? Did I know her before the calamity?’

You managed to tear your eyes away from the statue and walked up the right staircase, up to the next floor. At the top of the staircase you could see an elder Zora shocking himself repeatedly with a shock arrow. Concerned, you jogged up the steps towards him and could hear him speaking, or more so rambling, to himself.

“KYAHHH! Lady Mipha! Watch THIS! I, Seggin, the aptly named Demon Sergeant, shall strike down the Divine Beast Vah Ruta!” he ranted, standing over the shock arrow victoriously as though it were a monster to be slain.

You cleared your throat and leaned over to try and catch his attention. “Um, whatcha doin’?” you asked curiously, a bit concerned for his well being. After what Sidon had told you about the Zora and electricity, you wanted to make sure this man wasn’t going to seriously injure himself.

The elder Zora turned to you and visibly jumped, clearly quite surprised by your presence. His expression then turned to one of anger, however. “You… you’re that Hylian! Finally, I can avenge Lady Mipha!” he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “It has been a hundred years since you last showed your face here! Now I, Seggin, will cut you down myself!”

“What, uh… what do you mean?” you asked, clearly quite confused. A pair of guards who flanked the upper staircases were watching the scene unfold before them, and you quickly wanted to diffuse the situation before anything drastic happened.

“Playing dumb, eh?! Nice try, but you cannot fool me, Champion! You were unable to protect Lady Mipha from Calamity Ganon! It has been a hundred years since we lost her… poor Lady Mipha… how heartbreaking…” he went on, continuing this angry rant but growing much sadder now.

‘This Lady Mipha must’ve been a very important Zora… but he speaks as though it’s directly my fault that she passed on… that can’t be true, right?’ you wondered, crossing your arms as you watched Seggin look away from you, his expression now distraught.

Your lack of memories from a hundred years ago was starting to heavily annoy you. You wanted to remember what happened. You want to know who this Lady Mipha was so you could console this elder Zora who’s still very broken up about what happened even a century later.

You plucked up your courage and captured his attention once more. “I won’t fail her again. I won’t fail any of the Zora again,” you stated confidently, though Seggin didn’t seem at all reassured.

“Hmph! There is no way we could ask for your help now, after all this time and after all that has happened! So says I, Seggin, the Demon Sergeant! Even if this body of mine is destroyed… I will drown Ruta in shock arrows myself! And in doing so, Lady Mipha’s regrets shall be alleviated,” he concluded, looking down at you with an expression of pure distaste… and almost hatred. It was a look that unsettled you greatly.

He turned back to his shock arrow, before quickly doubling back to make a final statement. “If you understand anything of courage, then get out of my way at once!”

You nodded your head glumly and stepped up the rest of the stairs. The two guards who had been listening in quickly returned to their stoic posts. You heard Seggin resume his touching of the shock arrow, and you considered taking it so he wouldn’t hurt himself but decided against it. He probably wanted to be left alone.

Instead you turned to the massive staircase in front of you, split on either side around a statue of the Goddess Hylia. Pausing in front of the statue, you gulped nervously, feeling the weight of the situation on your shoulders once more.

‘Goddess, give me strength.’

…

On your way up the staircase, you had some questions in your mind. What was the king like? Does he look like Sidon? Is he as kind as Sidon? And after that run in with Seggin, you were just hoping that he didn’t hold a grudge against you after something that occurred a hundred years ago which you still didn’t even remember.

Arriving at the top of the stairs though, your eyes went wide at the sight. A tall Zora, at least three times Sidon’s height, sat in a throne submerged in a small pool. His scales were a stark navy blue, quite the opposite of Sidon’s, which contrasted with the bright red sash tied around him. He wore jewelry and accessories quite similar to Sidon’s, with silver braces around his neck, arms, and the tail that sprouted from the back of his head, golden ropes, and blue jewels.

He seemed to be in a conversation with Sidon and a shorter, elder Zora as you entered the throne room. The sound of your boots on the smooth cut flooring drew the attention of all three, stopping their conversation. As you walked forward to stand before the king himself, Sidon offered you a pure-hearted smile, clearly one of encouragement. The elder Zora across from him merely scowled at your presence.

Stepping up onto a small pedestal, you looked up at the king as he gazed down at you. ‘Should I bow… state my name and purpose? How do I go about this respectfully?’ you wondered, but before you had a chance to try anything the king began to speak, his voice clear and easily heard due to his sheer size.

“Ah. You must be the Hylian that Sidon brought here, correct? You did well to come all the way here! I am King Dorephan, ruler of the Zora.” he introduced himself, offering a smile as though he could sense how nervous you were. He suddenly became very intrigued and bent down a bit when his eyes caught something on your person. “Hm? That object upon your waist… is that not a Sheikah Slate?”

“Yes sir, it is,” you replied in confirmation, nodding your head. King Dorephan had a knowing look on his face, and at the same time both Sidon and the elder Zora had expressions of realization, all of which greatly confused you.

“Now that I have gotten a good look at you, it is all too clear who you are… you are the Hylian Champion!” he grinned, before pausing for a moment as though he were thinking. “... Do not tell me you have forgotten me…” He wore a similar look as the one that Impa had on her face back in Kakariko after you’d confessed you didn’t remember her.

“The Hylian Champion?” Sidon interjected, an astonished look on his face, “You can’t mean THE Champion? THAT Champion?! So that’s where I have heard your name before! What a fateful coincidence that we would cross paths!”

“I cannot believe it. The Hylian Champion has appeared before us… we have met numerous times, I'll have you know,” King Dorephan mused thoughtfully, sitting back in his throne, “Ah… so many memories! My mind is overflowing with nostalgia, my friend. I had heard a terrible rumor that you had fallen in combat, but it appears that you have managed to survive. Extraordinary!”

You shuffled your feet at the mention. It still miffed you that you were completely unaware of whatever accident occurred that wounded you terribly enough for a century long restoration. “I’ve been asleep since then, your majesty, it was the only way to save me. But… I’ve lost all my memories in the process,” you explained to them, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

A look of confusion crossed over the king’s face, and he leaned down as he spoke, “Come again? You say you have lost your memory? But surely you must remember my precious daughter, Mipha, yes? You do, do you not?” he questioned, and you froze up on the spot, a sense of guilt filling you.

You cleared your throat, before slowly shaking your head no. And there again were those crestfallen expressions you were beginning to get used to at the mention of your lack of memories. “No… I’m sorry, I can’t recall her.”

“I cannot believe it… have you truly forgotten my dear Mipha as well? You and Mipha were so close… yet you do not remember her?” he asked, and the questions were only weighing down on you more and more, “Young hero… please look upon the beauty of Zora’s Domain.” he continued, moving his head in such a way that he gestured out to the plaza.

You turned, and when looking out from the throne room you were able to see the entrance of the Domain, and part of the statue of the Zora woman you had been looking at earlier. Piecing together the clues in your mind, you figured that that statue must’ve been of Lady Mipha. ‘No wonder I was so distracted by it earlier… she is someone from my past.’

“Do you see that stature? Does gazing upon Mipha’s immortalized form still not jog your memory?” King Dorephan continued on, his voice now edged with a more saddened tone. You shook your head no again as you turned to look back at him, and he sighed heavily, regarding you with a more inquisitive look, “Well, perhaps your memory will return in time. I dearly hope so.”

Sidon took a step forward to join the conversation again, your eyes meeting his as he gave you a sympathetic look before he turned to the king. “Father… I do not believe discussing my sister is helping matters at the moment. She seems confused.” he suggested, and you quietly thanked him for his help.

King Dorephan nodded and smiled at his son, “Oh? Yes, of course. But first, it is worth noting how remarkable it is that Sidon brought a champion here without realizing it! That is quite a feat, my boy!” the king chuckled, making Sidon blush a bit as he grinned at you. 

‘He’s rather cute when he blushes… wait, what am I thinking, that’s completely inappropriate-’ you thought, chastising yourself for letting your mind stray in such a way.

“I doubt not that you have endured a great many trials. Still, I must ask you to hear my plea.” King Dorephan said, his voice now a more serious tone as he drew your attention back to him, “now then. Hero… I must inform you that Zora’s Domain is in danger of vanishing because of Divine Beast Vah Ruta. I shall do you the courtesy of speaking bluntly. We alone cannot stop this beast. Will you lend us your strength?” he inquired, and right before you could answer with a resounding yes, you were interrupted.

“What?!” a shrill voice cried, and you turned to see it was the elder Zora who had been standing silently all this time, “King Dorephan! My liege! Please do not speak so! To ask a Hylian for help… why, the very thought of it curls my fins!” 

‘Oh… so he’s like Seggin. Lovely.’

King Dorephan shook his head at the elder Zora’s protests, “Muzu, I expected more of you. How can you still protest?”

Sidon, however, looked much more upset than his father. “Muzu! It is rude to speak that way to your king and his guest. The champion is here because I invited her! With such unprecedented rainfall, we have no choice but to rely on the aid of a trustworthy Hylian. Have we not already discussed this and arrived at that very conclusion?” he retaliated, though his voice softened as he turned to look at you, “She is the key to saving Zora’s Domain. I have no doubt in my mind.”

The king had been nodding his head as his son spoke, clearly agreeing with every point the prince laid down. “Indeed! She is a Champion, through and through. As things now stand, Zora’s Domain… Nay! Perhaps all of Hyrule is doomed to be swallowed by the sea. This is bigger than all of us, my friend. Zora and Hylians alike must put aside our differences and band together.” he declared in a level-headed tone, yet Muzu could still not see eye to eye with him.

“Have you forgotten already, my king?! We cannot trust these lowly Hylians!” he fumed, and your face screwed up at that. 

‘Lowly?’ 

“A hundred years ago, they abused the power of an ancient civilization and turned Hyrule into what it is today! And that is not the least of it!” he continued, his fists visibly shaking in anger. He paused though, folding his hands behind his back as he turned to face the floor sadly. “It is their fault that Lady Mipha was lost to us…”

Everyone in the room remained silent for a few still moments once he was done talking. With concern on your face you turned to look back at Sidon, and while you could tell he was still upset with Muzu’s comments on Hylians, you could see the sadness in him as well. Everyone seemed to be able to sympathize with Muzu’s sadness over the loss of Mipha.

Breaking the silence, however, King Dorephan spoke again. “… Divine Beast Vah Ruta has great power. It has the unique ability to create an endless supply of water. Of late it has been mercilessly spouting water into the air. As a result, this area has been plagued by heavy rains. For us Zora, water and air are as one, so you would not think this would be quite so critical of a problem. Sadly, the rains have filled the eastern reservoir nearly to the point of flooding. If the reservoir bursts, as it soon will, I fear immense damage will befall not only Zora’s Domain, but also the area downstream for us. There, Hylian lives are in very grave danger-” he explained, but was cut off by a loud rumbling and trumpeting noise.

You turned, and it was very clear where the noise came from. To the east of the kingdom where the reservoir stood, the spout was visible high up in the distance, coming straight from the Vah Ruta.

“Hmm… the Divine Beast is crying out once again…” King Dorephan murmured as you turned back to look at him, “The Divine Beast Vah Ruta… your princess, Zelda, often studied the Divine Beasts. That is, in the time before the Great Calamity. According to her research, the orbs located on Ruta’s shoulders are mechanisms that can control the water it generates. However, they require electricity to work. These orbs are clearly out of control now because there is no electricity coursing through to stop them.”

“Seggin, who is quite shock resistant for a Zora, hit one with a shock arrow. Sure enough, it slowed the water a bit. Unfortunately, as I explained to you earlier, we Zora are terribly vulnerable to the power of electricity. Perhaps because we could not safely strike it with enough electricity at once, the water soon returned to its full force.” Sidon interjected, offering you a smile as he spoke, “that is why I went in search of a Hylian who could help us! I am certain you have already figured this out, but we need you to use shock arrows to get those orbs working properly again! I will aid you in any way I can, of course. Please, hero… I beg of you. Help me stop Ruta’s rampage of destruction!”

All three of them were looking at you now, expectant looks on their faces. You stepped back, feeling awkward where you stood with all the sudden attention. “I, um…” you mumbled nervously, unsure of how to properly answer. It was such a daunting task. You weren’t sure if you were prepared for it yet. You wanted to help, you truly did, but it almost seemed like too much.

Screwing up your courage though, you explained what Zelda had managed to tell you days previously through her spirit; how boarding the Divine Beasts would help in reclaiming them from Ganon.

“What?!” King Dorephan asked, clearly quite curious, “Princess Zelda herself instructed you to board the Divine Beast and appease it from within? So then… Princess Zelda is still alive?”

You nodded your head, “Yes, in Hyrule Castle. I believe she’s been alive this whole time keeping Calamity Ganon contained,” you explained to them, watching a look of astonishment settle on the king’s face.

“I do not believe it… she was alive this whole time, just as you were! The events of a hundred years ago cannot be altered, it is true. But if we can regain control of the Divine Beasts… they may yet prove useful in sealing Calamity Ganon once and for all!” he realized, nodding his head, clearly approving of the plan.

Sidon turned to you, with a look of curious consideration, “I did not know you had such grand ambitions…” he murmured, before breaking out into a confident grin, “Wondrous! Naturally, I shall help too! Once it has stopped rampaging, you can easily climb inside it. Come, champion! Let us appease Ruta together!”

His sheer excited and confident nature was beginning to rub off on you, and it seemed to ease you into the task at hand. “I’m in. Let’s do this!” you agreed, giving him a smile just as bright as the ones he gave you. He seemed to appreciate the gesture.

King Dorephan had been watching the two of you, clearly quite pleased you seemed to be getting along well already. “Thank you, hero. Truly. We are in your debt. Our goal is the same. That means our meeting was nothing short of destiny. Now then, allow me to offer you this gift as a show of faith.”

A pale blue Zora, presumably a servant of the royal family, walked over holding a chest when King Dorephan beckoned him. You reached out and popped open the lock on the silver chest, and gasped at what was inside. Pulling it out, you marveled at the armor you had just been handed. It was a gorgeous, deep blue with silver encrusted designs melded into it. The sleeves and back had scale decals, and the gloves and neckline had intricate blue crystals and even luminous stones embedded into it, and judging by how it felt in your hands, it seemed as though it would fit you perfectly once put on.

“T-thank you, your majesty,” you quickly said once looking the armor over, caught off guard by such a special gift but by no means complaining.

“So long as you wear this, you can ascend waterfalls just like a Zora,” the king explained, “please, take good care of it.”

Once again though, Muzu interrupted. “King Dorephan!! Surely you do not really intend to give this outsider the Zora armor! Countless generations of Zora princesses have gifted that armor to the one they have sworn to marry!” he complained, and this revelation staggered you. 

‘... What? A gifted declaration of marriage? I can’t- I can’t accept this now... can I?’

“Princess Mipha made that one there with her own hands! It is far too important to entrust to a shady Hylian! She may be a Champion, but Mipha had no such relationship with her. So why should SHE receive such an honor? This is just too much, my liege! I do not understand it one bit!” he exclaimed, before storming off out of the throne room and descending one of the staircases.

The three of you watch him leave before King Dorephan decides to speak, “hmph. That Muzu is not easily swayed once his mind is set. You must understand… he was in charge of educating my dear daughter, Mipha. Naturally, she means a lot to him… just as she means the world to us. Ever since we lost her to the Calamity, he has grown to despise Hylians. I hope you can forgive his rudeness… but what shall we do now? I tasked Muzu with finding the shock arrows we will need to appease Vah Ruta. But now he has rushed off in a huff…”

“Do not let his words concern you, I will work this out with Muzu. I shall return shortly!” Sidon declared, and you turned to watch him run out of the throne room to follow Muzu.

“Sidon… I suppose that means you are going to tell him…” King Dorephan sighed behind you, before raising his voice to speak directly to you, “Champion, Muzu is most likely at the square down below. Would you mind going down there? I would like you to try and speak to him.”

You nod your head before stepping out of the throne room, looking down at the armor you held in your hands. Curious, you pulled it on, slipping it over your head and fitting the arm bands and gloves correctly. Miraculously, it fits you perfectly. 

‘It’s almost like Mipha made this… for me?’

Getting back down to the plaza below, you could see Sidon and Muzu standing before the statue of Mipha, stuck in a tense argument. Stepping up to the two of them, you cleared your throat to catch their attention. Sidon quickly stopped what he was saying to look down at you, and it seemed as though the sight of you in the Zora armor had shocked him.

Muzu however was not nearly as impressed. “Hmph. You came all the way here, but it was in vain. I have no desire to speak with you.” he grumbled, not even bothering to look your way as he spoke.

“Listen well, Muzu. There is something you need to know.” Sidon slowly said, in a more serious tone than he normally used, “She who stands here… is the one whom my sister, Mipha, had feelings for. I was only a child then, so I did not know it myself at the time. But it is so. I grew up hearing my father tell stories, some of which were about my sister’s undying love for a Hylian.”

You were staring up at Sidon with wide eyes as he explained. ‘A princess? His sister, in love with me?’

“What?! No,” Muzu protested, and you almost agreed with him this time, “you cannot fool me with such a fanciful lie. Not this Zora! How could Lady Mipha possibly have feelings for a Hylian like her?! The facts are clear. She remembers nothing. Even when she looks upon Princess Mipha’s statue.”

“It is the truth, Muzu,” Sidon argued, “Though you never knew it, she was ever in Mipha’s heart.”

You gazed up at the statue of Mipha as Sidon spoke, his words growing somewhat distant as you focused less and less on the conversation. This time when you looked at the statue, something clicked in your mind, as if pieces of a puzzle were finally fitting together. Suddenly Mipha’s face looked more familiar than before.

A spark lit in your thoughts, and you were pulled from the moment at hand when a memory came to the forefront of your mind…

~~~ <> ~~~

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[agp]

part 1: quebec

beauceville

special train ticket to montreal

sherbrooke

drummondville (first gym)

st hyacinthe

montreal

car ride to ottawa

part 2: kichi zibi

hawksbury, on

montebello, qc

gatineau

chelsea, qc

wakefield, qc

lac philippe

ottawa, on (second gym)

unlock presto pass

wabano

kitigan zibi

part 3: east ontario

cornwall, on

gananoque

cataraqui (3rd gym)

watertown,ny

belleville, on

trenton, on

cfb trenton

team galactic vs team rocket

n and silver are fighting for the planes

part 4: the gta

oshawa

toronto (4th gym)

brampton

london?

hamilton

part 5: across the borders again

niagra, on

buffalo, ny (5th gym)

allegheny national forest

cleveland, oh

pittsburg, pa

harrisburg, pa

"unova isnt too far you know"

"florida is so far"

gym leader rematch

fifth badge back in cleveland

part 6: lake huron

detroit, mi (6th gym)

sarnia, on

london, on

goderich, on

sault ste marie, on

finally find the gym leader

mackinaw city, mi

battle and badge in detroit

part 7: chicago and the west

chicago (7th gym and badge)

n and silver are kidnapped by ola

its just like geonosis, so is the protag

ola wants a show and everyones angry

people arent meant to fight pokemon

not even in self defence this sucks

theres a reason were the trainers

milwaukee, wi

madison, wi

minneapolis, mn

duluth, mn

thunder bay, on

boat back to toronto, kingston, or ottawa

part 8: the road to montreal

pembrooke, on

temiskaming shores

north bay, on

sudbury

sault ste marie

via full-time membership

party in toronto

party in cataraqui, on

montreal, pq (8th gym)

trois rivieres, pq

elite four in quebec city

post-game content everywhere

gen 5 remakes for every region

when were done with this one

welcome to the great lakes. welcome to anishinaabe country. welcome to the world of pokemon!! miigwetch

[hurricane105]

Y'all Hyrule is BIG. Outside of fast travel with the slate or swapping horses out, it would take days to travel across the continent. Zelda isn't getting to the Spring of Wisdom in a day.

Korok Forest (black line): Hyrule Castle bridge to Boneyard Bridge to Helmhead Bridge to Woodland Stable to the platform in front of the Great Deku Tree: 33 hrs 10 min

Goron City (orange line): Hyrule Castle Bridge to Orsedd Bridge to Thims Bridge to Foothill Stable to Bludo's house: 65 hrs 15 min

Spring of Power (pink line): Hyrule Castle Bridge to Orsedd Bridge to Thims Bridge to Akkala Span to Shadow Pass to where the trail splits for Skull Lake to the Spring of Power (last stage was cross country): 66 hrs 30 min

Akkala Citadel (red line): Hyrule Castle Bridge to Orsedd Bridge to Thims Bridge to Akkala Span to Akkala Citadel: 45 hrs 10 min

Zora's Domain (blue line): Hyrule Castle Bridge to Orsedd Bridge to Thims Bridge to Inogo Bridge to Mipha's statue: 59 hrs 20 min

Kakariko (purple line): Hyrule Castle Bridge to Sacred Ground Ruins to Mabe Prairie to Rebonae Bridge to Sahasra Slope to the stairs in front of Impa's house: 27 hrs 20 min

Spring of Wisdom (purple line): Hyrule Castle Bridge to Sacred Ground Ruins to Mabe Prairie to Rebonae Bridge to Sahasra Slope to Great Fairy Fountain to Lanayru Promenade to Lanayru Road - East Gate to Naydra Snowfield around Mount Lanayru to platform in front of the goddess statue in the Spring of Wisdom: 52 hrs 10 min 

Hateno (white line): Hyrule Castle Bridge to Sacred Ground Ruins to Gatepost Town Ruins to Proxim Bridge to Big Twin Bridge to Fort Hateno to the gate of Hateno: 55 hrs 40 min 

Spring of Courage (green line):  Hyrule Castle Bridge to Sacred Ground Ruins to Gatepost Town Ruins to Bridge of Hylia to Faron Woods to Zonai Ruins to platform in front of the goddess statue in the Spring of Courage: 44 hrs 30 min

Gerudo Town (yellow line): Hyrule Castle Bridge to Giant's Forest (pretty much straight south, then turned west at the Great Plateau) to Digdogg Suspension Bridge to Gerudo Town: 74 hrs 5 min

Rito Village (brown line): Hyrule Castle Bridge to Carok Bridge to Tabantha Great Bridge to the arch guarded by Mazli at the base of the stairs into Rito Village: 63 hrs 15 min

Royal Ancient Lab Ruins (gray line): Hyrule Castle Bridge to Carok Bridge to Royal Ancient Lab Ruins: 20 hrs 50 min

*these routes follow the shortest/most direct roads, doesn't go cross country unless it's unavoidable (like when approaching the springs) or unless it looks like a road was there pre-Calamity (like the Sahasra Slope); the exception is the Spring of Courage, where I didn't see any obvious route; I'm guessing they either did some climbing and cross country hiking, or rafted up the Dracozu River

*this is the slowest walking speed I could get - any slower and Link stopped moving, but I think it's still faster than the walking speed shown in the memories, especially #3 (Resolve and Grief) - pushing the left stick all the way forward results in what looks like jogging, not walking

*this doesn't include time for sheltering from inclement weather, sleep, making/breaking camp, rest/meal breaks, monster attacks, walking slower due to changes in elevation (the hike to Goron City has to be brutal) - it's literally a walking pace straight through

[dreadfutures]

203 Dragon Age: Inquisition Quests

A prompt list of selected quests, for randomized writing prompts. Please send the number AND say that this is a DAI Quest Prompt when you prompt someone.

The Wrath of Heaven

The Threat Remains

In Hushed Whispers

Champions of the Just

In Your Heart Shall Burn

From the Ashes

Here Lies the Abyss

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts

What Pride Had Wrought

The Final Piece

Doom Upon All the World

Haven's Best and Brightest

Know Thy Enemy

Mixing Potions

Passing Notes

Piece by Piece

The Right Armor

A Common Treatment

A Healing Hand

A Rare Treatment

A Spirit in the Lake

Agrarian Apostate

An Advanced Treatment

Apostates in Witchwood

The Ballad of Lord Woolsley

Bergrit's Claws

Blood Brothers

Business Arrangements

Conscientious Objector

Deep Trouble

East Road Bandits

Failure to Deliver

Farmland Security

Flowers for Senna

Hinterland Who's Who

Holding the Hinterlands

Horses for the Inquisition

Hunger Pangs

In the Elements

In the Saddle

Letter from a Lover

Love Waits

Master of Horses

My Lover's Phylactery

Open a Vein

Playing with Fire

Praise the Herald of Andraste

Return Policy

Safeguards Against Looters

Shallow Breaths

Stone Dreams

Strange Bedfellows

Templars to the West

The Mercenary Fortress

The Vault of Valammar

Trouble with Wolves

Where the Druffalo Roam

Lost Souls

Beacons in the Dark

Beneath the Mire

Cabin Fever

Holding the Mire

These Demons Are Clever

After Skyhold

Cleaning House

A Glowing Key

Holding the Storm Coast

Keeping the Darkspawn Down

Red Water

Sutherland and Company Missing

Vigilance on the Coast

Wardens of the Coast

Still Waters

Capturing Caer Bronach

Burdens of Command

High Stakes

Holding Crestwood

Homecoming

The Naturalist

Weeding Out Bandits

Wyrm Hole

A Bear to Cross

A Corrupt General

A Deluded Chevalier

A Fallen Sister

A Lover's Promise

A Puppet Master

A Vicious Thug

Chateau d'Onterre

Devotion

Fairbanks' Trust

Fairbanks Patrol Under Attack

Holding the Emerald Graves

Last Wishes

Motherly Encouragement

Noble Deeds, Noble Heart

Not Everyone's Free

Observing the Menace

Safe Keeping

The Freemen of the Dales

The Knights' Tomb

The Tiniest Cave

Victims of War

Watcher's Reach Refugees

Capturing Suledin Keep

A Timely Intervention

Breeding Grounds

Caged Confession

Call Me Imshael

Mama's Ring

Quarry Quandary

Red Captors

Rocky Rescue

Securing Safe Passage

Sifting Through Rubble

Stalker Stalker

Take Back the Lion

The Corruption of Sahrnia

They Shall Not Pass

Turning the Tables

Valeska's Watch

Words not Hollow

A Dalish Perspective

A Familiar Ring

A Father's Guidance

A Well-Stocked Camp

Another Side, Another Story

By the Grace of the Dalish

Calming Victory Rise

For the Empire

From the Beyond

Ghilan'nain's Grove

Holding the Exalted Plains

Lay Rest the Ramparts

Left to Grieve

No Word Back

Pressed for Cache

Scattered Glyphs

Silence on the Plains

Someone to Lose

Something to Prove

The Golden Halla

The Spoils of Desecration

Undead Ramparts to the West

God of Secrets

Runes in the Lost Temple

Ruined Blade

Assault on Griffon Wing

A Manuscript of Some Authority

A Stranger Rift in the Ruins

A Tevinter Relic Hunt

Fortress Squatters

Frederic's Livelihood

Holding the Western Approach

Hunting Patterns

Into the Approach

On the Chantry Trail

Sharper White Claws

The Heart of the Still Ruins

The Trouble with Darkspawn

The Venatori

This Water Tastes Funny

A Prideful Place

The Door in Par'as Cavern

The Temple of Pride

What It's Worth

Shard Collector

Sand and Ruin

The Tomb of Fairel

Field of Bones

Let's Slay the Beast

Ameridan's End

Avvar Allies

The Basin Beckons

Beasts at Bay

A Father's Name

Guests of the Hold

Hakkon Wintersbreath

Hakkon's Trials

In Exile

It Remains to be Seen

Jawbreaker

Lead the Charge

The Loss of a Friend

The Mystery of Winter

The Nox Morta

On Ameridan's Trail

Storvacker Caged

They Came From Somewhere Else

Up and Away

What Yet Lingers

Where Once We Walked

Builder's Towers

Chronicles of Forgotten Wars

The Descent

Exploring the Deep Roads

Holding the Deep Roads

Killing Me Softly

On Broken Knees

Rune-Warded Gate of Segrummar

Sacrificial Gates of Segrummar

A Second Rune-Warded Gate

A Warm Welcome

[rabbitcruiser]

Yosemite National Park, CA (No. 8)

Olmsted Point is a viewing area off Tioga Pass Road in Yosemite National Park which offers a view south into Tenaya Canyon, giving, in particular, a view of the northern side of Half Dome, Clouds Rest, and a view of Tenaya Lake to the east. The granite slopes immediately south and southwest of the parking lot feature numerous glacial erratics scattered about, as well as a short 0.125 mi (0.2 km) trail leading south - through a small grove of trees - to the top of a small granite dome where the view of Clouds Rest and Half Dome is clearest.

The site is named after landscape architects Frederick Law Olmsted and Frederick Law Olmsted Jr.

Source: Wikipedia

[didnt-hear-cold-as-you-live]

holly my family is going to glacier national park this summer!! what do you recommend doing while we're there? i love to hike but i have a 9 year old sibling so we probably want to do a mix of easier and harder-but-really-cool ones, as well as some non hiking activities. i know you love it there and you were the first person i thought of when i found out!

Oh my gosh!!! I’m SO excited for you you’re gonna love it!!! First of all very important thing to know is that all areas of the park are on a reservation system this year. That means for each different section of the park you’ll need a ticket for timed entry which you can get on recreation.gov - if you don’t already have them I believe they have short notice ones that go on sale 48 hours in advance, so be ready right at the 48 hour mark because they will go fast! Unfortunately it’s like Taylor tickets all over again, lol. Anyways here are my recs assuming that’s all sorted out. Can’t put a cut on mobile so very deeply sorry about this novel lol

EASY STUFF:

Polebridge Area - the northernmost part of the park on the west side, this is one of the lesser trafficked but the road to get there is unpaved. Worth it imo! There’s a general store up there called Polebridge Mercantile and a whole big farm. They make incredible pastries (the huckleberry bear claw is what they’re known for and for good reason! This area is right by Kintla Lake, which you can walk partially around (it’s 14 miles which you wouldn’t want to do, but it’s an idyllic walk with viewpoints and you can turn around whenever!). It’s just a really beautiful area and a wonderful place to spend a day or half a day!

Belly River Valley - this is my favorite favorite FAVORITE part of the park. If you do one thing off this list do this one. It’s the northernmost part on the east side (you literally park at border patrol, lol). It’s an almost completely flat 3 mile hike to do the valley (it spawns off into other bigger hikes, but you can just do this and then stop)! It’s completely idyllic, VERY sparsely trafficked, and depending on when you go there will be wild berries to eat along the whole trail. There’s a big and very shallow lake you can stop at, go for a dip and then turn around! This is about 2.5-3 hours total if you take your time. If you want to extend it, my favorite branch-off hike is Ptarmigan Tunnel, a mountain pass blown out of the mountain due to mining in the 1800’s. It leads to the Many Glacier Hotel and totals about 14 miles one way (hotel employees will likely be happy to give you a ride back; we did it all the time for tourists when I was there. Otherwise go to the tunnel & turn around)!

Many Glacier - this is the wonderful wonderful area where I lived and worked. Even if you’re not staying in the hotel that the area is named for, it’s worth a stop in as it’s a world heritage site and it’s really fascinating to see and learn about. The hotel opens out to a lake and incredibly dramatic mountains, and there’s tons to see and do in this area: you can walk around the lake, there’s a boat company that does educational boat tours of the lakes in the area, you can rent kayaks and canoes, and behind the hotel there’s horses and they do guided trail rides! The boat company and the horse company are the only two locally owned / mom & pop businesses left within the entire park, so it’s really great to support them. This area will likely be the hardest to get reservations for so plan ahead!

Going-To-The-Sun Road - this is the “main” part of the park, taking you through the Rockies and connecting the east and west sides of the park. It is the most beautiful drive you will ever do in your life. There’s tons of viewpoints and spots to take pictures, and on the west end of the park it follows a river which you can pull over anywhere, climb down and splash around in; lots of locals do it and you’ll see them! A lot of hikes in the park leave from here. Sun Point Nature trail is a lovely one mile walk towards the end with beautiful sunset views.

HARDER / LONGER STUFF:

The Highline - off of Going To The Sun Road, The Highline is one of the most famous hikes in the park, and one of the only ones that doesn’t lead to a lake. You’ll be walking on a mountain ridge (not great if you have a fear of heights, fair warning) over Sun Road and seeing the incredible landscape of the park on foot. It’s a 14 mile out-and-back, but the good news is it’s flat and most people don’t do all 14 miles as there’s no end “viewpoint”; the whole trail is the viewpoint. You can do 1 mile or the whole 14 and still have an incredibly satisfying experience.

Grinnell Glacier - bad news about Glacier is that all the photos of beautiful alpine lakes are 10 mile out-and-back hikes at minimum. Grinnell Glacier Trail, which leaves from the Many Glacier area is the one with the best views the entire hike, and also the shortest of all of them. It’s going to be very highly trafficked for this reason, so a) go earlier or later in the day, and b) if you go to the Hotel and get a parking spot there, there technically is another parking lot a half mile away. Don’t leave your parking spot, just walk over. The walk is pretty and mostly circles the big lake I mentioned! It’s not worth it to try and get a parking spot over there, it’s complete hell unless you’re there VERY early in the morning. Grinnell Lake is a shorter hike and departs from this trail after 2ish miles if your younger sibling can’t make the whole thing - but I’ve seen lots of children do this! It’s an easy 10 miles because the views are so beautiful. I’ve done it in 4 hours but it would probably take the average person with a kid in tow about 5-6.

Apikuni Falls - this one is short, but like a stairmaster 3000. It’s on the way to the Many Glacier area so if you want a quick little stop on the way and don’t have many other big hikes planned, this one is a great little workout. Leads to a gorgeous waterfall and there’s TONS of wildflowers the whole way and lots of moose live along this route so you might see some!

Jackson Glacier (via Gunsight Pass) - this one is WAY less trafficked compared to others in the area; not a lot of tourists know about this one. It’s off of Sun Road and leads to the biggest glacier in the park! There’s again TONS of huckleberries and thimbleberries (tastiest berries in the whole world) along this trail to snack on, I didn’t even need the snacks I brought with me lol. It goes across a lot of beautiful valleys and rivers, and there are some VERY steep stretches (the Jackson Glacier Part specifically; you can bail after the Gunsight Pass portion and still have had a great hike) but then it’s flat for most of it!

Dawson Pitamocken - this hike is a bit different than the others as you’re walking on top of the mountains above the treeline; it feels a bit like you’re on the edge of the world. But the views are UNREAL. You get an almost Birds Eye view of a lot of the lakes in the park. t’s quite long but it’s not horribly difficult; a fair amount of uphill but nothing insane where you’ll be keeled over trying to catch your breath. This is the hardest on the list in terms of length and uphill combined, though, and I’d only recommend it if your sibling takes everything else like a champ! This will be an all day thing, but there’s lots of lovely spots for breaks and photos on the way etc. It’s in Two Medicine which will be the easiest to get a reservation for; it’s the least trafficked part of the park. Two Med is also a GREAT spot to sit by the river and take in the views and have a picnic, too.

Avalanche Lake & Trail Of The Cedars (they’re connected as one hike) is the main trail that people with kids do. It’s 5.5 flat miles (one of the easier ones) and a fair sampling of the park on the west side of Sun Road, but imo it’s nothing crazy compared to what else the park has to offer. If your siblings capacity / attention span for hikes is low this is a good compromise and what park rangers will probably recommend.

OUTSIDE THE PARK & WHERE TO EAT

Glacier Raft Co is incredibly fun!!!! It’s whitewater rafting down the main river that formed the area. Incredibly safe even for kids; they monitor the conditions and choose your route really well (and especially later in the summer; it’s the wildest in May / June when the snow is still melting). Just a great experience and if you’ve never been whitewater rafting it’s a great and scenic intro. It’s in Kalispell before you enter the park.

Sable Coffee is one of my favorite coffee spots in the whole US. It’s located in Kalispell, and the huckleberry roles are imo the best huckleberry treat in the area.

Backslope Brewing is a PHENOMENAL restaurant. Don’t let the name fool you because while it is technically a brewery, I’ve never had a sip of beer there. it’s one of the best restaurants I’ve ever been to - they serve Korean-American fusion food and it’s soooooo good.

Jalisco Cantina is an upscale Mexican restaurant in Whitefish, the nicer Ski resort town next to Kalispell. A bit pricier if you have dinner as opposed to lunch, but if you guys go out for a nicer meal it should 100000% be here. They have stuff for kids as well (some of the best baked Mac & cheese I’ve ever had. they put chorizo and Mexican spices in it etc so the kids meals aren’t too kid-ish either)

There’s a pop-up trailer on the way from the east exit of Sun Road to the Many Glacier area called Full Quiver. It’s just parked on the side of the road. The sweetest woman in the world bakes pastries and lunch items and sells them every morning. She makes the best cinnamon roll you’ll ever eat in your life.

I hope this all helps bestie and if you have any specific questions please feel free to let me know!!!

[totkdaily]

Day 57: Yiga in Lanayru, and Akkala

The tower I climbed in the Abandoned Lanayru Mine is a forge, and it's manned by a Steward. I think this is the first one I've seen in the Depths, and only the second I've seen outside the sky islands. 

Another Steward asks me to go to the Central Abandoned Mine - if I do that and come back here, it'll give me something. 

There's a Yiga building here with a journal.

They want to conquer the Depths, but they say they need to find every entrance to do so. The journal ends: "Glory to Master Kohga."

I hope that's just something they say. He fell into- oh. He fell into an apparently bottomless hole. Is he… is he here somewhere?? 

Surely not. But unease follows me as I gather the remains of zonaite in the mine. 

I can't see any more lightroots from here, so I head back to the Ulri Mountain Skyview Tower, thinking to head to Tarrey Town - and spy Dinraal emerging from a chasm! I chase to catch up with him, but I don't have the right gear. I only just grab a shard of his spike and a claw before the heat of his mere proximity threatens my life. 

I drop to the ground and land in the shadows of North Akkala Beach - right next to a shrine! 

I spend the early morning scaling the cliff up to the Akkala Lab. Didn't Robbie say he needed something from here? I don't think I've spoken to him in over a month. Still, I should check it out. I've always loved the Lab. 

I scale the outside first to enjoy the view from the top, but it's a grey and cloudy day. And… that's weird. There's a frog sitting in Robbie's sun lounger. And… it bears the mark of the yiga. I've got a bad feeling about this. 

I look for further clues as I head back down the lab. There's boxes of bananas at the base of the telescope. And from the front, it's obvious - frogs and banana crates everywhere. 

I summon the Sages, ready my gear, and knock. 

It's a closer match than I'd like, but I dispatch the Yiga guards. Inside, there's only a fashionista - Konba. It sounds as though he's been forced to work against his will to make the Yiga's outfits. He gives me the Yiga armor he just finished. I suppose I could use it as a disguise, though I dislike the idea of wearing it at all. Konba points out I'd need the whole set before I could pass as a Yiga member anyway. 

There's a Yiga journal here. They're interested in sourcing Zonai devices, as well as Zelda and myself. Even they haven't seen her. They say they're setting up traps to catch me, but I've only encountered the weird cucco prophecy scam, and that hardly seemed aimed at me. Don't pick up bananas on the road? I'd have hoped I would have spotted that one for a trap without the hint. 

There's a map with Yiga hideouts on it, I think. Let's see…

Here, the Colosseum, somewhere north of Death Mountain and the old hideout in the Gerudo Highlands.

There's also a travel medallion prototype, which I should probably give to Robbie. Was that what he wanted from here?

For now, I head down the hill to the East Akkala Stable, and stop at the shrine on the way. 

Penn's the first person I see at the stable. He mentions the god of horses is near here - I'd forgotten my dream about it! - and the suspicious lab, the mystery of which I think I've probably solved by clearing out the Yiga. But no news here of the Princess, so he's off! That was quick. 

I speak to a few people at the stable. Aya is preoccupied with the monsters on North Akkala beach- I must have missed them, but she'd like me to deal with them, please. Rudi says Malanya's at Bloodleaf Lake, north of here. Rudi would like a picture of Octorok Lake when the water's high and it looks like an octorok. Maybe in the rain? Atin's newspaper says that YunoboCo is restoring Goron City again - that's good. Khini points me towards the horse god, and then goes back to selling buns. I buy and eat one of his Malanya buns, and I feel filled with stamina. 

The korok at the back of the stable wants to go down the hill to meet its friend. I summon Peaches and hook up the wagon for transport. I can probably do this before bed. 

I ignore the blood moon rising behind me as we gallop down the hill. Which means it comes upon me right as I'm fighting off two bokoblins in a cart. 

When the Gloom clears, I reunite the koroks and take the knight's bow the bokoblins had. Then I take both the horses and carts back to the stables to bed.

[dilf-din]

Tomb of Silence

Title inspired by the Great War by Miss Taylor Swift

That was the night I nearly lost you. I really thought I lost you. We can plant a memory garden, say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair. There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair. And we will never go back.

Fandom— The Last of Us

Characters— Joel & Ellie

Summary— set post episode 8, slight spoilers but no explicit mention of what happened. Fluff, after care, Joel being the dad he never stopped being. Them!!!

Word count— 950

Note— This is my first ever fic, blurb, whatever you want to call it so please give feedback! Good, bad, constructive, I’ll take it all. I just needed a tender moment with them after getting my heart stomped on last night.

They hobbled together for what seemed like hours. Leaning into one another, bracing when the wind kicked up. Ellie just wanted to get as far away from that place as possible. Her gaze hazy, too afraid to focus on any one thing lest it all came rushing back. Joel didn’t push her to talk, just whispering the occasional instructions. “Careful, it’s steep,” “Watch out for that root,” “Turn here.” Faithfully he wove them through woods behind neighborhoods until the sun started to sink in the sky. He began scouting to find a place to settle, and he wasn’t necessarily worried about those people coming after them. He shuddered at the thought of the bodies he saw hanging. Silently thanked whatever deity might be listening that she made it out, she was here in his arms.

He knew they needed to head East to reach Salt Lake City, they had probably covered a few miles on their wordless trek. He would go out in the morning to get his bearings and cross reference the street they had just passed over with the map. He noticed a sort of path leading into the woods, the thick pines overhead obscuring the snowfall so he turned to lead the girl into the woods once more, feeling that would be safer than a main road. Hoping for a cave or, holy shit a cabin.

“Look,” he whispered down to Ellie who lifted her gaze and nodded at the sight.

They trudged together the last hundred yards. No lights, smoke, tracks, nothing to indicate they had company. Joel sat her down on the steps, his jacket still around her shoulders.

“I’ll be right back,” he assured slinging the rifle off of his shoulder before going in to look around.

Thirty minutes later they were sitting in front of a roaring fire. Joel had used what was left of his strength to push the small couch in the living area closer to it so they could share the warmth. This place, of course, had been raided. The cabinets almost bare, but he found some towels and blankets. There was a small shed out back with a stable where he found some leftover oats and decided some stale oatmeal would be better than nothing. A small kettle creaked as it hung from the hook in the fire place heating up some snow, slowly swaying over the large flames. He dipped a rag into another bucket of water he had thawed and said, “Lets get you cleaned up darling.”

Ellie stared into the fire looking more haunted than he ever would have hoped. Joel placed a tentative hand on her shoulder causing her to jump. “It’s just me, it’s me,” he said softly, the terror in her eyes melting as they settled on his face. She closed her eyes as he leaned forward with the rag to clean the blood off her face, some hers, a lot of it, well. She sucked in a breath as he dabbed over her busted lip.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said gently, “Almost done.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, a tear slipping out of her closed eyes.

“You can cry baby,” he said drawing her head into his chest, arms wrapped firmly around her. He pressed a kiss into her matted hair while her body shook with the sobs she had been holding in. She leaned against him limply as if she had no fight left in her. “I’m so sorr-“ he started.

“Don’t,” she said sharply, finitely. “Don’t blame yourself Joel or I swear to God,” she said through sniffles straightening up to face him. “You almost died,” she reminded him.

“So did you,” he whispered back, pain painting his face, almost leaking out of his eyes.

“We’re safe now,” she said firmly, “We’re okay as long as we’re together.”

A small smile crept up the corner of his mouth. “I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again, I’m sleeping with my eyes open,” he said with a hand on her cheek. She allowed her own to rise and meet his squeezing it. They weren’t good at talking about their feelings, but the love in their eyes was evident to the other.

He pulled a clean sweater off the back of the couch and offered it to Ellie, “Here, so you can get rid of, that,” he said gesturing to the blood soaked sweatshirt she still had on.

She held up the light grey one he was offering her and took in words embroidered across the chest.

“It’s a grandma thing!” she laughed incredulously, loudly. He thought he might never hear that sound again.

“It was the only thing left upstairs,” he said through a chuckle.

She peeled off her top layer and threw it into the blaze, watching the fire consume at least part of her memory of the day. She pulled it on quickly, “How do I look?” she asked proudly, flashing a grin. “We’re quite a pair huh? Grandpa and grandma!” she laughed hitting his arm and he rolled his eyes instinctively, no longer able to hide the smile she brought to his face, his heart, his life. “Too bad there wasn’t a matching one,” she continued, “Maybe I’ll learn how to knit back in Jackson and make you one,” she grinned stretching her stiff fingers out towards the fire.

“There wasn’t one that said smart mouthed daughter or I would’ve picked that one instead,” he shot back, carefully dumping some oats into the hot water. He never turned to see her smile, but he could feel it burning brighter than the flames in front of him.

[hntedhouse]

TRIGGERS: toxic relationships, mentions of addiction / drugs / overdose, death

basics.

full name. saffron barton ( née lake ) nickname(s). saff ( okay ), saffie ( absolutely never ) gender. cis woman pronouns. she/her age. thirty - four marital status. widowed hometown. east tennessee occupation. owner of secondhand style clothing boutique

biography.

saffron lake was born and raised in a small town in east tennessee. she’s the middle child of three with one older brother and one younger sister. her parents are adventurous, free - spirited people who own and operate an all organic grocery store located on the ground floor of the building that saffron grew up in. most of her childhood memories are of totally spontaneous road trips, camping trips, and snatching up last call tickets to concerts and other big events in town.

she and her siblings were homeschooled for a bit, but eventually started going to the local public school. saffron got excellent grades in most subjects and loaded her schedule with all sorts of extracurriculars. by the time she was finishing high school, she had tried everything from sports like volleyball and karate to activities like orchestra and the yearbook committee. her true passion, however, was always for clothing and makeovers. her dream of owning a boutique was first proclaimed at the age of five and hadn't changed at all by the time she was heading off to college.

her impeccable grades and lengthy application secured her a spot in the ivy leagues. although she would again do well academically and eventually graduate, saffron didn't love college. she had a string of shitty part time jobs, many of her classes were necessary but boring, and her first serious romantic relationship ends badly.

( getaway car by taylor swift playing softly in the distance ) she jumps into a new relationship almost immediately after the breakup. jody barton is the lead singer of a rising grunge rock band that was starting to see some success when they first met. rather than going on to open a clothing boutique, though, saffron ( very very impulsively ) elopes with jody right out of college. they purchase a big home in seattle where he's from, but most of the time saffron travels around with the band.

their relationship was never healthy and it really only got worse as the band became more and more famous / successful. he was terrible at managing the cash that was rolling in nonstop, he got caught cheating with groupies more than once, and the occasional drug habit that she had always kind of knew about but chose to look the other way from was becoming harder and harder to ignore. they were fighting constantly behind closed doors, but in front of the cameras that seemed to follow them everywhere, the couple never failed to slap on their perfect moody pouts and darker - hued coordinated outfits, ensuring their reputation as ‘ rock and roll’s next it couple ’ was safe and sound.

one day, jody overdoses. he was on tour overseas with his band when his manager called their house in seattle and dropped the news on her. they had been married for a little less than five years at that point. she gets everything, but almost immediately begins selling and donating things so that she can leave seattle.

her plan was to reattach her roots to tennessee, repair her relationships with her immediate family who she had mostly drifted away from, and maybe dip into the money that’s still rolling in from her husband’s accounts to finally open a clothing boutique, but struggling to deal with the grief ( and all of the other complex emotions that seeped in with the loss of someone she once loved, but probably didn’t anymore by the time he passed ) had taken a bit of a toll on her. she went into rehab for an addiction to prescription pain meds, and once she had completed the program saffron just didn’t want to be in her hometown anymore.

wanting to go someplace new ( and where reporters wouldn’t think to look for her so they could beg for a comment on jody’s death or the dissolution of his band which immediately followed ), saffron traveled around by herself for a little bit before landing in chile at the age of thirty. unsurprisingly, she immediately fell in love with the secondhand style clothing store. she signed her lease within days of arriving in the country and she’s been here ever since, so about four years now. she came into ownership of the store about year ago and although it takes up most of her time nowadays, she’s mostly happy and feels like her life is finally on track. 

wanted connections.

tbd. :)