#THIS DAMAGE IS NOT THE FIRST OF ITS KIND TRULY I WANT TO LIVE A FUN LIFE

[gibberishquestion]

what song is your anthem. what song is required reading to understand you on a personal level

[fursasaida]

Hi! Just wanted to ask. How can I give my students assignments that are chat-gpt proof? Or that they won't just copy the answer without at least doing some editing?

Hi! So, I don't think anything is ChatGPT-proof. You fundamentally cannot stop people from using it to take a shortcut. You can't even stop them from copying the answer without editing it. However, I think you can work with this reality. So, you can do three things:

Don't be a cop about it.

If you make your objective "stop the children from using the thing to cheat," you are focusing on the wrong thing. You will be constantly scrutinizing every submission with suspicion, you will be accusing people of cheating--and some of them will not have cheated, and they will remember this forever--and you will be aiming at enforcement (which is trying to hold back the sea) instead of on inviting and supporting learning whenever and wherever possible. (I'll come back to this under item 2.)

Regarding why enforcement is holding back the sea: It is fundamentally rational for them to do this. We, who "love learning" (i.e. are good at what our academic system sees as learning, for various reasons have built our lives around that, happen to enjoy these activities), see everything they might cheat themselves of by doing it, because we know what we got out of doing this type of work. Many students, however--especially at the kind of school I teach at--are there to get the piece of paper that might, if they're lucky, allow them access to a relatively livable and stable income. The things that are wrong with this fact are structural and nothing to do with students' failings as people, or (tfuh) laziness, or whatever. We cannot make this not true (we can certainly try to push against it in certain ways, but that only goes so far). More pragmatically, chatgpt and similar are going to keep getting better, and detecting them is going to get harder, and your relationships with your students will be further and further damaged as you are forced to hound them more, suspect them more, falsely accuse more people, while also looking like an idiot because plenty of them will get away with it. A productive classroom requires trust. The trust goes both ways. Being a cop about this will destroy it in both directions.

So the first thing you have to do is really, truly accept that some of them are going to use it and you are not always going to know when they do. And when I say accept this, I mean you actually need to be ok with it. I find it helps to remember that the fact that a bot can produce writing to a standard that makes teachers worry means we have been teaching people to be shitty writers. I don't know that so much is lost if we devalue the 5-paragraph SAT essay and its brethren.

So the reason my policy is to say it's ok to use chatgpt or similar as long as you tell me so and give me some thinking about what you got from using it is that a) I am dropping the charade that we don't all know what's going on and thereby making it (pedagogical term) chill; b) I am modeling/suggesting that if you use it, it's a good idea to be critical about what it tells you (which I desperately want everyone to know in general, not just my students in a classroom); c) I am providing an invitation to learn from using chatgpt, rather than avoid learning by using it. Plenty of them won't take me up on that. That's fine (see item 3 below).

So ok, we have at least established the goal of coming at it from acceptance. Then what do you do at that point?

Think about what is unique to your class and your students and build assignments around that.

Assignments, of course, don't have to be simply "what did Author mean by Term" or "list the significant thingies." A prof I used to TA under gave students the option of interviewing a family member or friend about their experiences with public housing in the week we taught public housing. Someone I know who teaches a college biology class has an illustration-based assignment to draw in the artsier students who are in her class against their will. I used to have an extra-credit question that asked them to pick anything in the city that they thought might be some kind of clue about the past in that place, do some research about it, and tell me what they found out and how. (And that's how I learned how Canal St. got its name! Learning something you didn't know from a student's work is one of the greatest feelings there is.) One prompt I intend to use in this class will be something to the effect of, "Do you own anything--a t-shirt, a mug, a phone case--that has the outline of your city, state, or country on it? Why? How did you get it, and what does having this item with this symbol on it mean to you? Whether you personally have one or not, why do you think so many people own items like this?" (This is for political geography week, if anyone's wondering.)

These are all things that target students' personal interests and capabilities, the environments they live in, and their relationships within their communities. Chatgpt can fake that stuff, but not very well. My advisor intends to use prompts that refer directly to things he said in class or conversations that were had in class, rather than to a given reading, in hopes that that will also make it harder for chatgpt to fake well because it won't have the context. The more your class is designed around the specific institution you teach at and student body you serve, the easier that is to do. (Obviously, how possible that is is going to vary based on what you're teaching. When I taught Urban Studies using the city we all lived in as the example all through the semester, it was so easy to make everything very tailored to the students I had in that class that semester. That's not the same--or it doesn't work the same way--if you're teaching Shakespeare. But I know someone who performs monologues from the plays in class and has his students direct him and give him notes as a way of drawing them into the speech and its niceties of meaning. Chatgpt is never going to know what stage directions were given in that room. There are possibilities.) This is all, I guess, a long way of saying that you'll have a better time constructing assignments chatgpt will be bad at if you view your class as a particular situation, occurring only once (these people, this year), which is a situation that has the purpose of encouraging thought--rather than as an information-transfer mechanism. Of course information transfer happens, but that is not what I and my students are doing together here.

Now, they absolutely can plug this type of prompt into chatgpt. I've tried it myself. I asked it to give me a personal essay about the political geography prompt and a critical personal essay about the same thing. (I recommend doing this with your own prospective assignments! See what they'd get and whether it's something you'd grade highly. If it is, then change either the goal of the assignment or at least the prompt.) Both of them were decent if you are grading the miserable 5-paragraph essay. Both of them were garbage if you are looking for evidence of a person turning their attention for the first time to something they have taken for granted all their lives. Chatgpt has neither personality nor experiences, so it makes incredibly vague, general statements in the first person that are dull as dishwater and simply do not engage with what the prompt is really asking for. I already graded on "tell me what you think of this/how this relates to your life" in addition to "did you understand the reading," because what I care about is whether they're thinking. So students absolutely can and will plug that prompt into chatgpt and simply c/p the output. They just won't get high marks for it.

If they're fine with not getting high marks, then okay. For a lot of them this is an elective they're taking essentially at random to get that piece of paper; I'm not gonna knock the hustle, and (see item 1) I couldn't stop them if I wanted to. What I can do is try to make class time engaging, build relationships with them that make them feel good about telling me their thoughts, and present them with a variety of assignments that create opportunities for different strengths, points of interest, and ways into the material, in hopes of hooking as many different people in as many different ways as I can.

This brings me back to what I said about inviting learning. Because I have never yet in my life taught a course that was for people majoring in the subject, I long ago accepted that I cannot get everyone to engage with every concept, subject, or idea (or even most of them). All I can do is invite them to get interested in the thing at hand in every class, in every assignment, in every choice of reading, in every question I ask them. How frequently each person accepts these invitations (and which ones) is going to vary hugely. But I also accept that people often need to be invited more than once, and even if they don't want to go through the door I'm holding open for them right now, the fact that they were invited this time might make it more likely for them to go through it the next time it comes up, or the time after that. I'll never know what will come of all of these invitations, and that's great, actually. I don't want to make them care about everything I care about, or know everything I know. All I want is to offer them new ways to be curious.

Therefore: if they use chatgpt to refuse an invitation this week, fine. That would probably have happened anyway in a lot of cases even without chatgpt. But, just as before, I can snag some of those people's attention on one part of this module in class tomorrow. Some of them I'll get next time with a different type of assignment. Some of them I'll hook for a moment with a joke. I don't take the times that doesn't happen as failures. But the times that it does are all wins that are not diminished by the times it doesn't.

Actually try to think of ways to use chatgpt to promote learning.

I DREAM of the day I'm teaching something where it makes sense to have students edit an AI-written text. Editing is an incredible way to get better at writing. I could generate one in class and we could do it all together. I could give them a prompt, ask them to feed it into chatgpt, and ask them to turn in both what they got and some notes on how they think it could be better. I could give them a pretty traditional "In Text, Author says Thing. What did Author mean by that?" prompt, have them get an answer from chatgpt, and then ask them to fact-check it. Etc. All of these get them thinking about written communication and, incidentally, demonstrate the tool's limitations.

I'm sure there are and will be tons of much more creative ideas for how to incorporate chatgpt rather than fight it. (Once upon a time, the idea of letting students use calculators in math class was also scandalous to many teachers.) I have some geography-specific ideas for how to use image generation as well. When it comes specifically to teaching, I think it's a waste of time for us to be handwringing instead of applying ourselves to this question. I am well aware of the political and ethical problems with chatgpt, and that's something to discuss with, probably, more advanced students in a seminar setting. But we won't (per item 1) get very far simply insisting that Thing Bad and Thing Stupid. So how do we use it to invite learning? That's the question I'm interested in.

Finally, because tangential to your question: I think there's nothing wrong with bringing back more in-class writing and even oral exams (along with take-home assignments that appeal to strengths and interests other than expository writing as mentioned above). These assessments play to different strengths than written take-homes. For some students, that means they'll be harder or scarier; by the same token, for other students they'll be easier and more confidence-building. (Plus, "being able to think on your feet" is also a very good ~real-world skill~ to teach.) In the spirit of trying to offer as many ways in as possible, I think that kind of diversification in assignments is a perfectly good idea.

[admiringlove]

you still don't get it. hi everybody! this is my first installment of @angstober this year. i hope you enjoy. thank you for reading :)

when you're used to holding onto someone who’s always just out of reach, what do you do?

gojo satoru—he wasn't replaceable, but he was so easily lost. his life had never been a normal one, always teetering on the edge of something extraordinary, something untouchable. from childhood, he was told he was the greatest. destined to do the impossible, to defeat the most terrible curses, to keep the gojo name eternal.

greatness was the air he breathed, the weight he carried effortlessly—and all you wanted was to love him like it was a sacred act, a ritual meant for no one but him.

but even the greatest can fall. and he did. again and again, you watched as cracks formed in the person who was supposed to be invincible, watched as he broke in ways you couldn’t understand, let alone fix. watching someone you love lose at the one thing they're meant to be flawless in is a kind of agony that sticks to your bones—but losing him entirely? that shattered you.

when gojo satoru was sealed in the prison realm, you were left with nothing but the echo of his absence. now, you were the one who had truly lost. and the damage felt irreparable. they said they didn’t know when or how he would return—just that he would. but those words, like a prayer unanswered, did nothing to fill the void he left behind.

so you did what you always did best—you hoped. you clung to the thought of him, whispered prayers to any god that might listen, begged the universe to keep him safe. because that’s what your life had become. him. everything you were, everything you did, revolved around him, like a planet caught in the unrelenting pull of its sun.

when they told you he’d returned, your heart seized in your chest, the air growing thick in your lungs, as if you’d forgotten how to breathe. seeing him after months, your eyes filled with tears. but the warmth you longed for never came. the person you’d waited for, prayed for, felt so distant, like he was a lifetime away despite standing right in front of you.

gojo satoru had become too great, even for you. his purpose stretched far beyond what you could ever be to him. yet your world still revolved around him, just as the earth clings to the sun, forever chasing its warmth. he hung the stars in your sky, and you, just a humble planet, were always beneath his protection.

“don’t you understand?” his voice breaks, barely holding itself together. his hands pull at his hair, shoulders tense, as if trying to wrestle the words out of him. the weight of it all presses down on him—he feels it too, but not in the way you do. you loved him like a sacred ritual, like an oath sworn under the stars. but he—he was never meant for that. he was gojo satoru, the strongest, the untouchable.

“you still don’t get it,” he says, his voice heavy with resignation, eyes clouded with a sadness that threatens to swallow him whole. “i wasn’t born to live a normal life. i'm not like you.”

"what do you mean you're not like me?" your voice wavers, fragile and raw, as your hands tremble at your sides. all you'd ever done was wait for him, pray for him. it had become second nature, your very being entwined with his. your purpose was to be his solace, his sanctuary. but now, as he stands before you, distant and cold, his words cut through the air like a blade. not like you. what did that even mean? was your love not enough? were you not home?

he breathes out, sharp and shallow, refusing to meet your gaze. and it stings, more than you thought it would, like salt rubbed into an open wound. but it’s all you want. his eyes, those deep oceans of blue that could drown you with a glance, if only he'd let you in. you long to be swallowed by them, to feel the cold of his gaze soften just for you. to be pulled under the current of his icy lashes, to lose yourself in the very storm he carried within him. you ache to hold him, to cradle him against your chest, whispering that it would all be okay. because that’s who you had become—his tether, his constant. gojo satoru was your purpose, your reason for everything. the very breath in your lungs depended on him.

but he no longer wanted you.

"i mean," he begins, voice strained and barely audible, “i can’t be bound by you." the words seem to tear from him, reluctant but unavoidable, as if they're as painful for him to say as they are for you to hear. his hands twitch, his fists clenching at his sides as if trying to hold himself together. he can’t even look at you, but you watch him closely, desperately, hoping for something, anything, to change.

but his words have already shattered something inside you. he tries, in his own way, not to hurt you any further. he never meant to wound you, but the truth still burns, searing through the air between you. because he has to say it; he has to be free of you. because even though you gave him your all, even though you loved him with the kind of devotion that could move mountains, you were the one thing that could break him. and he cannot break. not again. not like before. he must be untouchable, invincible—the strongest. and you, with your boundless love, with your willingness to sacrifice everything for him, have become a weakness. a chain he cannot afford to carry.

he has a legacy to uphold, a world to protect, and his destiny doesn’t include you anymore. you can feel it in the way his voice cracks, in the subtle flex of his shoulders as he struggles to keep his composure. the truth is, he was never meant to be yours. and now, in the space where your love once bloomed, all that remains is the cold realization—you were his sanctuary, but you could not contain him.

"are you saying i hold you back?" your voice is barely a whisper, trembling under the weight of disbelief. your words tread carefully, like you’re walking through a field of landmines, afraid that one misstep might shatter everything. your heart clenches as you watch him—he won’t even look at you. it feels like he’s giving you a mercy you never asked for, letting you go before the pain sinks too deep, before staying in his presence becomes unbearable. but wasn’t that already your reality? waiting, hoping, breaking yourself apart for the smallest glimpses of his affection. why couldn't he see that? why wouldn’t he even try to understand?

"satoru," you whisper, voice cracking under the strain of your held-back tears. "all i’ve done these past few months is wait for you. you can’t just leave-"

"i didn’t ask for that!" his voice is a gunshot, piercing straight through your chest. your breath falters, as if the very core of you has been ripped out, leaving you hollow. it’s like someone took the puzzle pieces of your life, pulled out the heart, and tossed it into oblivion. the suddenness of it makes you feel as though you might collapse.

you watch him, standing there like a statue—still, cold, and yet his hesitation betrays him. you can see it in the clench of his fists, the stiff set of his shoulders. he doesn’t want to hurt you. he didn’t want this. you can almost feel his regret lingering in the space between you, like an invisible wall neither of you knows how to cross.

but he is gojo satoru. he will always be gojo satoru. untouchable, unbreakable, destined to stand above everyone else. and you—you’re just the earth, spinning on the axis of his existence, revolving around a sun too bright, too distant to ever truly hold. no matter how much you loved him, no matter how much you waited, you would never be able to reach him. because you were always meant to remain beneath him, while he soared far above—just out of your grasp.

"i will give you everything you ask for, satoru," you whisper, though your voice betrays you, trembling like a confession laid bare for the world to witness. it slips out of you, raw and fragile, exposing every crack in your resolve. it's like standing in the aftermath of a crime, where the evidence is clear, and there’s no point in hiding. you step toward him, breath unsteady, tears barely held back, though you fight so desperately to keep them hidden. "because that is who i have become."

each step feels heavier than the last, like you’re dragging your heart across shards of glass, careful not to leave too much of yourself behind. you can’t look back, though everything inside you screams to. you reach the door, eyes falling to your shoes, as if the answer you seek might be there. you want him to call out to you, to stop you, but deep down, you know that’s a dream you can’t afford to indulge. his path has always been set, carved out for him long before you ever entered his orbit. and yours? yours was to love him, even if it meant walking away.

"i wish you good luck. and goodbye."

your voice wavers on the final word, but you force yourself to say it. to mean it. and then you leave, the weight of his silence following you. because gojo satoru was the sun, blinding and brilliant, burning too brightly to be touched. and you? you were something else, something smaller, caught in his gravity. maybe a planet, or maybe just the moon—shining only because his light reflected off you. without him, you weren’t sure what you were anymore.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[absolutebl]

Best & Worst BLs of 2023

My Top 15 BLs of 2023 are (in order)

1 Our Dating Sim

Korea Viki

Nerds in love, deadlines, gaming, teasing, pining tiny idiots, casual affection, linguistic oops, ADORABLE. If you haven't watched this, it's a must. A perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy.

I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent.

Also recieves my 2023 award for best giggle.

2 I Cannot Reach You

AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai

Japan Netflix

This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen.

Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way.

This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.

Also wins the best thirst award.

These were the 2 BLs that got 10/10 from me in 2023. The rest of these got 9/10 from me.

3 My School President

Thailand YouTube

GMMTV gave us a classic high school set Thai BL with tropes like messy boys singing their feelings that made this one Love Sick for the modern age with all the gentle sweetness and pining ache, but none of the dated damaging tropes or issues. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny? My favourite GMMTV BL offering to date. And yes, I've watched them ALL.

Received the Namgoong award for best wingman 2023.

4 I Feel You Linger in the Air

Thailand grey

IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework. Steeped in history and family drama this is an elegant and classy BL. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. It's a marker of how great it was that it's so high on my list despite the ending which was very much not what I wanted.

Additional accolade, sexiest moment of 2023 - (the oil scene).

You could try to fight me, but you'll have no grip.

5 Kiseki: Dear to Me

Taiwan Gaga & Viki

The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs (everyone is queer), and a KILLER side couple. It involves all the tropes under a very offhand framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan.

Best side couple 2023!

(thank goodness Taiwan made this list!)

6 Jun and Jun

Korea Viki

A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching.

Best flirting 2023.

AKA "the tongue knows" award

7 The Eighth Sense

Korea Viki

This one is a bit chewy and sticky and less perfect than most KBLs. It’s got a bit of an age gap, country boy/city boy, stellar acting, complex characters, and leads with great chemistry and tension. This isn’t in the KBL bubble, there’s sharp edges and lots of triggers. For a BL the darkness of the content left me feeling unsettled (which is the only reason it didn't get a perfect score) but it has a glorious ending and that counts for a lot.

2023's most likely to appeal to non-BL watchers.

8 Unintentional Love Story

Korea iQIYI

The lead, Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT, who carried this show. He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, which he used to carry a killer plot and challenging role. Forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the eyes EMOTING at us in PAIN. Driven by external conflict, social tension and pressure this story seems simple but it's actually refined and quite complex. I loved this show.

Best story structure 2023.

9 My Personal Weatherman

AKA Taikan Yoho

Japan Gaga

This is classic yaoi of the kind that really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's high heat is well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" which is exacerbated by the fact that they're already fucking. Sure is sexy tho.

Best use of props 2023 for the shower of sheets.

10 Our Dining Table

AKA Bokura no Shokutaku

Japan Gaga

Lonely salaryman and talented cook gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. It's lovely & sweet with the romance beats used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy. Special.

First prize for domesticity.

11 Laws of Attraction

Thailand iQIYI

This is a great gay suspense thriller with several solid couples, fun plot, killer characters, queer rep, and a happy ending. It’s tons of fun and I had an absolute blast watching it.

Charn wins my favorite character of 2023.

12 La Pluie

Thailand Viki

This BL takes to task the fated mates trope and what it means to have love chained intimately to predestination. It’s about how faith in destiny before choice diminishes the authenticity of emotion, relationships, and connection. This is a high concept to examine through the lens of a BL. With good chemistry and decent acting all around, plus some excellent high heat and representation of consent and a few other rare tropes, this one has to (like it’s sibling show My Ride) earn high marks.

Most interesting concept 2023.

13 The New Employee

Korea Viki

So good, SO QUEER, so soft, a near pitch perfect office BL with conflict derived from that setting. Also found family and a lesbian bestie. This is what I wanted from this new crop of office set KBLs ALL ALONG. Rainbow rice cakes forever!

Best overall queer rep from Korea.

14 Step By Step

Thailand Gaga & YouTube & Viki

This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This was an office romance between stern boss and sweet subordinate that felt more authentic to an office environment than previous Thai BLs of this ilk which added tension to the narrative and character development.

Chot wins best queer character 2023.

15 Love Tractor

Korea iQIYI

Most of this country-set BL had me feral for the beautiful broken city boy and his hot young farmer. Hyung romance, puppy/cat pairing, open frankness meets jaded reserve, language play, water hose frolicking, only one bed = all my favorite silly tropes.

Biggest "he so pretty" gasp of the year award.

10 Worst BLs of 2023 (that I watched)

My Blessing

My Universe: Casanova Begins

Boyband the series

Cafe In Love

Chains of Heart

Hit Bite Love

Only Friends

Senior Love Me

The Luminous Solution

The Promise

Yes, you read that right. I know I'm against the flow but I really did not like Only Friends. Everyone's taste is different.

However I DNFed faster and more BL's this year than ever before, so that means my 10 worst probably aren't quite reflective...

10 Probably Actually Worst BLs (I dropped 'em)

My Story

The Day I Loved You

Beyond the Star

Crazy Handsome Rich

Dinosaur Love

House of Stars

Mr Cinderella 2

Love Bill

Stormy Honeymoon

The Star Always Follow You

Codicils in General

I only carefully track/watch Thailand, Taiwan, Korea, and Japan. Other countries are not fully represented.

My Numbers

So my spreadsheet chronicled 138 BLs that finish airing in 2023.

101 = watched & reviewed

2 = still in the docket (WDYEY2 & Love Syndrome III)

15 = CNF (could not find)

20 = DNF (which also accounts for how few very low scores I handed out in 2023 as opposed to previous years, I just stopped watching). Speaking of which...

Ratings spread

(# of stars. #of BLs given that rating)

0 (see the DNFs instead)

2 - IT'S DEPRESSING they killed the gay, save yourself

7 - I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM WATCHING AND NEITHER DOES IT

7 - FATALLY FLAWED but still basically BL, however… do we want to support this kind of behavior?

9 - WATCH IF YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO but don’t expect much, it’s a total hot mess

17 - WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED probably around the ending or in narrative structure/cohesion or censorship

14 - RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS i.e. isn’t quite BL, convoluted, not strictly HEA, too short/long, or chemistry issues

30 - RECOMMENDED some concerns around tropes (like dub con) or story structure but still satisfies as BL

13 - ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED probably a few pacing issues or one flaw

2 - HIGHLY RECOMMENDED faithful to tropes, happy ending, good chemistry, few flaws, high rewatch potential

(source)

[mysticheathenn]

Mystery Pick-A-Card Pt. ll

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about whatever the cards have to say. I shuffle the cards and whatever message comes out is your reading. I couldn't decide on what reading should be next as so many messages wanted to come through, so I decided on this way. This may be about love, academics, friendship/family, money, or careers. Whatever the cards have to say, will be said.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

TW Ahead Read With Caution

Pile l:

What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: Page of Swords, 5 of Swords, The Chariot (Clarified by The Reversed Empress), Justice (Clarified by 9 of Cups), Ace of Wands

"There's no kindness in your eyes The way you look at me, it's just not right I can tell what's going on this time There's a stranger in my life You're not the person that I once knew Are you scared to let them know it's you? If they could only see you like I do Then they would see a stranger too" - Hilary Duff, Strangers

TW: Body image, Self Esteem, Anorexia, Dysmorphia, Etc

Even though Strangers by Hilary Duff is a love song about a toxic relationship this is about you having a toxic relationship, but with yourself. You are so skilled at faking smiles and pretending everything is okay while you suffer on the inside with your constant negative talk to yourself. You could say things like how ugly, fat, and disgusting, you are to yourself and spew all of these lies that aren't true. Some of you could possibly be dealing with body dysmorphia where you see yourself as one way one moment and another moment you do a complete 180 or 360 depending on what it is about your body you are speaking negatively/positively about. Some of these feelings, thoughts, and emotions may have come from your childhood/adolescence where your family constantly pointed out changes in your weight causing you to have these feelings or body disorders. This makes me sad because I don't need to know what you look like to know that you are handsome/beautiful/spectacular/ and everything that's as sensational and bright as the sun. This reading has left me in a pickle as I have never pulled cards dealing with this subject before and don't want to overstep or cause any damage, as I'm not a psychologist/therapist so I can't give you the guidance you need in order to see yourself for all its glory, but your guides want you to know it's time to start seeing the light. They can't help you if you don't try to help yourself first by seeking help for the thoughts that plague your mind on a daily basis. You may like to listen to sad songs when you're sad so you can remain in your sadness because being happy with who you are is too unbearable to think about. It's time to begin your journey of healing and surrounding yourself with people who see you for who you really are and not the versions in your head that you see or the versions your family likes to place on you because of their own f*cked-up views and opinions about themselves. Try seeking out help from a therapist/psychologist, or a trusted friend. Also, remember that you are more than just your looks, you have a personality that I am sure shines bright as gold and a beautiful future ahead where you are thriving and seeing yourself as truly divine.

Pile ll:

What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: The Devil, 7 of Cups, 8 of Cups (Clarified by The Star), 9 of Pentacles (reversed)

"There's things I wanna say to you But I'll just let you live Like if you hold me without hurting me You'll be the first who ever did There's things I wanna talk about But better not to give But if you hold me without hurting me You'll be the first who ever did" - Cinnamon Girl by Lana Del Rey

TW: Self-Sabotage, Vices, etc

This reading can go so many different ways but the overall message is that there is something in your life that isn't good for you that you can't see to walk away because you either feel you have no better options or you don't want any other options. For some of you, this could be a relationship you refuse to let go of because of fear and for others of you, this could be vices like drugs, alcohol, or even self-sabotaging things for yourself because you don't see how bright your future or how brilliant you are. Some of you are so far down the rabbit hole that you don't see a way out, you have let this thing or person consume your every being to the point there is no moon or sun in your work only complete darkness. It's as if you have fully accepted that this is your life now and the thing about that pile ll is this doesn't have to be your life. You have The Star card in your reading showing you that you are more than capable of being someone other than the version you are now or even finding better elsewhere if this is about a relationship. Freedom is just a few steps away you just have to be the one to see the light at the end of the tunnel instead of always pulling the blackout curtains over any and all kinds of light that touched your domain. You have options...you just rather not take them because of having to deal with the pain that comes along with it. Again this could be vices that you pick up every time life gets even the smallest of inconvenient for you and others it's a relationship that you wholeheartedly either believe is as good as it gets for you because of your low self-esteem or because you don't want to leave this person in their darkest hour not realizing that they too are slowing taking you under. Your light is so bright pile ll and it's been trying to show you in your darkness but you refuse to answer or grab its hand. It's time to walk away from the things that keep you mentally, emotionally, and even physically stuck and walk away. Do some healing or find other solutions that can help with your vices. Similar to how chain smokers replace cigarettes with snacks...replace what this toxic energy is with something better.

Pile lll:

What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: The Lovers, The Hierophant, The Devil, The Moon, 3 of Swords

Two Messages - TW: Toxic Relationships (Romantic & of the Self)

So many Major Arcana cards pile lll. You may have been drawn to Pile ll, this reading somewhat mirrors that pile also. The only difference is that you acknowledge your unhappiness while Pile ll...well...yeah. Anyway, pile lll I sense your unhappiness within your relationship and possibly within yourself too. With the lovers and devil card in this reading, I sense that this is mainly a relationship reading but if not take what resonates and apply it to you being single. Single messages are later in this reading. Overall you are unhappy with how your relationship is, it's as if you romanticized what it would be like with this person and decided to go with the flow of everything even when things didn't feel right and now you are unhappy because you don't want to "disturb the peace" in your relationship but you also are feeling yourself chip away each and every day. Maybe this is the kind of relationship you thought you wanted because society or your family have always had this kind of relationship and you thought this is the way it has to be not realizing that you have a say in how your relationship should be, feel, and look like. You don't have to sit in silence and possibly cry yourself to sleep every night wishing things were different when you can just leave if the relationship is not serving you the way your soul wants to be fed. For just a few of you this may be an abusive or toxic relationship and this relationship while it is abusive you have only known chaotic and toxic love so anything else just doesn't feel right because you are so used to chaos and drama not realizing that's not love. For those of you who are single, this feels more so of you not feeling one with yourself. You're catering to everyone else but what your soul has been telling you all along. There is so much hidden potential in you that you don't realize because you are listening and entertaining others. Going back to those who are in abusive or toxic relationships if you can and only if you can seek help. There are so many people out there willing and wanting to help you get out. Last for those who are single and try and tap into the parts of you that are screaming for you to release and see where it takes you. I am going to let you know that you tapping into yourself will cause friction to those who are only around you for their own benefit...are you ready to lose those around you when you stop entertaining others' opinion of you.

Pile lV:

What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: Ace of Pentacles, 7 of cups, Strength, Ace of Cups, 8 of Pentacles, Hanged Man

This is the only good happy-toned reading out of the remainder of the other piles and I can't tell you how happy I am for you. Whatever it is that you have been working on specifically dealing with career as I see a lot of money and emotions cards. Needless to say, that emotional fulfillment is coming in for you pile lV. Please don't doubt that what you are doing is a waste of time because it's not. If you aren't working on something you may have had several opportunities or ideas come to you that you have questioned whether they will lead you to financial stability and abundance and with the 8 and Ace of Pentacles card it is a yes. Yes, one of your ideas will bring you the money you have been trying to manifest or pray for. Some of you that may have multiple ideas or opportunities may not be sure as to what you should take that will lead you down this road and it's the one that gives you the most emotional fulfillment. If you still aren't sure close your eyes and picture yourself doing each opportunity and if it doesn't give you a feeling of peace washing over you...onto the next idea or opportunity. This path will also force you to have strength pile lV as this is not a quick road to riches and stability. You will be tested and have setbacks as well as being stuck in limbo but overall this will be worth it and is exactly what you have been wanting in your life...it's just going to take a bit of work to get there but financial abundance is on it's way to you, just have patience, dedication, and focus on the prize.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

[possamble]

Do you have any headcanons or thoughts about Falin having a crush on Marcille pre-canon? Especially during her later years at the school/the years she was with Laios.

Just full on "awkward and slightly gnc teenage lesbian has a massive crush on the touchy-feely girly girl straight best friend" tropes everywhere. Even better bc it's the "best friend is also the popular girl while lesbian is the slightly ostracized quiet one" dynamic in school. Falin gets so so so good at not having a heart attack every time Marcille gets in her personal space. But she's so resigned to never saying anything bc why would a girl as blinding as Marcille ever like her back. She also doesn't make an effort to get over it either, she's just content to be trapped in that stable dynamic of silently being in love with Marcille while getting to enjoy CLEARLY being Marcille's favourite person. She gets so used to it that it's almost just background noise most of the time-- it would have to be, unless she wanted to be freaking out 24/7 bc Marcille is so goddamn affectionate.

Her feelings also definitely change throughout the time that they're in school together-- at first it was this "whooaaah pretty older girl" puppy crush that you can clearly see developing in the flashbacks we get (I think she doesn't even like... realize her fixation on Marcille is romantic at all until years after it starts, when she's 12-14 ish and all the other girls around her are talking about crushes). But then they get closer, over the years Marcille starts getting really attached and letting down her guard, and Falin gets to see the ridiculous side of her. She gets to calm her down from her tantrums when experiments don't work out, or help her clean up when something explodes in her face. I feel like the progression of her feelings from "schoolgirl infatuation" to "unrequited love" probably almost exactly corresponds to how slowly Marcille goes from trying to keep Falin at a polite but friendly distance (like she does with everyone else) to her facade completely eroding as she becomes her cheerful and ridiculous self again for the first time since her father died.

That's probably the saddest part: Falin knows that she's clearly Marcille's favourite person on the surface level, but she doesn't quite fully grasp the enormity of what that means to Marcille. She doesn't get that she's the person who made the world colorful again for Marcille, that she is the first person outside of Marcille's family to really and truly make her laugh. She just thinks she's the beloved but dinky little short-lived sidekick, one of many that Marcille has had and will have.

Part of it is that, despite Marcille becoming such a clingy and affectionate best friend, I think her initial demeanour already did its damage. You see Falin being super adventurous and weird at first, bringing Marcille berries and other stuff, only to be rebuffed by Marcille exasperatedly saying she's working or looking kind of put off by it. And by the time you see her a little older, shes already quieter and better at masking -- and I'm not saying that that's entirely Marcille's fault (being the weird girl at an all girls academy for almost the entirety of her teenhood must have been brutal, my god) but she definitely learned that she's a potential nuisance to Marcille if she doesn't tone herself down. She learned that Marcille most likely sees her as a weird little kid following her around bc she has no other friends. And for the most part, she was never given any reason to unlearn any of that.

And that all very very smoothly transitions into Marcille being her "first love that was never meant to be anyway" when she leaves the academy. Chapter closed in her mind: she loved and pined from a distance and that was that. Every now and then she'll see another woman with Marcille's build or her shade of hair and be like ":( I miss her..." But then just kinda move on with her day. Same with when she's going through her own spellbook and finds a note that Marcille left her/correction that she made-- she'll smile fondly and reminisce about how much Marcille doted on her, and then move on.

Sometimes she thinks about contacting Marcille but convinces herself that it's too late (she spent too many months focusing on getting Laios healthy again and didn't mean to go no contact, but ah well). It's only when she has a practical reason to be reaching out that would also benefit Marcille ("Marcille is studying dungeons and we need a trustworthy mage to go with us to the dungeons") that she feels like she's allowed/that it wouldn't just be 100% a nuisance.

I almost think she didn't expect Marcille to reply at all, only to get a telegraph (or some in-universe equivalent of express mail, maybe magical pigeon carrier) that's like. EN ROUTE TO ISLAND. LETTER TO FOLLOW. and she freaks out like AAAA LAIOS SHE SAID YES WE HAVE TO CLEAN UP NOW.

I do think getting a response accidentally sparks a little hope in her, judging by the way she acts in the chp 57 flashback-- she's pouty that Marcille sees her as a kid, gets really worked up about being presentable, and then tries to play it cool when she actually meets Marcille (as if she didn't freak out and force Laios to shave while rambling a mile a minute about Marcille). She's an adult now, really and truly, and she's seen and survived things that her 18 yr old self would have never even imagined-- then all of a sudden, the person she was in love with since she was ten years old appears, and she's so desperate to be seen as mature and competent. She's trying soooo hard to impress Marcille with her newfound combat and dungeoneering experience...

Only to fall right back into their old dynamic. RIP. At least she gets the girl eventually, even if it takes dying twice and being the core catalyst behind an almost-apocalypse.

[girlactionfigure]

Human Rights and Human Wrongs

URI KURLIANCHIK

“It’s impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means… Horror has a face, and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies.”

— Apocalypses Now

There has been a lot of talk about the "dehumanization of the Palestinians," so let's talk about this for a minute.

First of all, what does it mean? In plain English, it means Jews no longer have pity for Arabs who get hurt in the war they started to eradicate the Jewish people in the Middle East. This is mostly true. Even the eyes of the most gentle Israelis light up when they see a rocket hitting a Hezbollah launcher in South Lebanon or a building block used by the butchers of Hamas demolished in Beit Lahia.

It wasn't like that until recently. How did we come to this?

When I was a boy, Israel was a leftist country. We had huge peace rallies, the Oslo accords, all our war movies were of the insipid "shooting and crying" genre. We even had a subject called "peace" in school! People like me were viewed as crazy marginals (except back then, I also supported the two state solution, all civilized people did). To even suggest that not all societies wanted peace was seen as vulgar and uncouth. Nice people cried for the innocent dead on both sides. We could forgive the Arabs for killing our children but not for making us kill theirs. Etc… etc…

This euphoria of peace born out of the Oslo Accords was followed by decades of barbarism from the Arabs that eroded the pity reserves of the Jewish people. 

Yes, pity is a resource, and it's finite.

This wasn't the result of slanted reporting or anti-Arab propaganda. The media was firmly left-leaning and went out of its way to defend the Arabs after each new atrocity that was difficult to imagine was done by humans, and the widespread celebrations that followed. More and more, people asked themselves, “where is this peace partner? What kind of a society are we expected to live side by side with?”

Jews were torn to pieces with bare hands, baby skulls were smashed with rocks, little girls were butchered in their beds, children were massacred in schools, in discotheques, on buses. People were mutilated, castrated, crippled; not as collateral damage but meticulously, with sadistic precision, by an enemy that seemed to always prefer to go after defenseless civilians, that seemed to revel in atrocity.

And each time, the Jack the Rippers responsible for these horrors were celebrated as heroes by the Arab street and their progressive allies. No one stood up and said, "guys, there are laws even in war." No, when it came to hurting us, it was always, "by any means necessary." The laws were there to prevent us from protecting ourselves, never to protect us, and “resistance” often seemed like nothing more than an excuse to indulge in sadism.

Time after time, year after year, decade after decade; the Arabs produced images of horror that even the most progressive Israeli peacenik couldn't spin into anything other than what it was: the portrait of a savage society.

The change didn't occur at once. 

People first started voicing opinions that were outside the Overton window, only to be shut down in polite society. Then polite society started shrugging because it ran out of arguments.

Then October 7 came, the ultimate atrocity exhibition, the ultimate barbarity, recorded in vivid details and spread so ubiquitously there was no chance anyone missed it. Shocked and hurt, the Jews who still had pity learned that the Arabs and their progressive allies had no pity or even empathy for them.

"You made it up! You did it to yourself! It was only military targets!" and other forms of sadistic gaslighting were hurled smugly at a grieving nation. "Where are the 40 beheaded babies, haha? With or without baking powder, har har?"

The message was simple: "No matter what happens to you, you deserve no pity. Your very existence is a crime."

For many, this was the final straw. 

This was the moment their last shred of compassion for the enemy evaporated and their hearts became hard. Hearts of survival. Hearts of war. This is what the pseudointellectual farts mean when they talk about, “the dehumanization of the Palestinians.” The enemy finally managed to push Israeli society into not caring about the enemy. It took 40 years of hard word but we’re finally there.

Will this pity ever return, or have we finally transformed into a new kind of nation? I don't know.

What I do know is that when you treat someone without pity for decades, don't expect them to be compassionate towards you forever. 

Commit enough inhumanities and you'll be dehumanized.

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 9

Moniker: Nik Risk Level: N/A. Nik has never been detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Phone sex Safeword: Refer to first brief. Since you’re not in any danger I convinced Price to let me watch for this one. Would appreciate if you can play to the camera ;) - Soap

The room was more like an apartment than it had been before. You almost threw a fit about how much money this place had to throw around because there was a full window looking out onto the moonlit city below. Problem being you weren’t in a city and it was very much morning, so that was a very good screen.

Still, you liked it a lot. You were well and truly exhausted and you weren’t entirely sure you would have been able to go through with anything if you had walked in and saw some sort of sex dungeon. This though? The living space of a penthouse with a tv, sofa, little kitchenette and bar? This you could deal with you thought.

When the phone on the coffee table rang you collapsed down onto the sofa to answer it.

“Hello?”

“You sound tired.”

You did not know this voice, but you assumed it was Nik. Russian accent you thought. A vague pool of unease settled in your stomach.

“Uh yeah, last week was a lot.”

“I bet. Are you nervous?”

You chewed your lip and considered. Nik. Valeria had mentioned him hadn’t she? But he wasn’t here, what damage could he do on the phone?

“Someone mentioned a Nikto…”

The man on the phone laughed a booming laugh that made you smile.

“Easy mistake but I am Nikolai, not Nikto. Both codenames but for different men I assure you.”

“Oh thank God. I mean no offense, but I’m just rinsed today. Not that I can’t-! Y’know. I can, I just uh… slow would be nice.”

You could almost hear Soap laughing at you. God when did you get this embarrassing? Your toes curled almost painfully as you fought the urge to hang up and bury yourself in the blanket hanging over the back of the couch.

“Tell me why you are ‘rinsed’” he said, sounding so friendly and easy that you relaxed a bit.

You glanced at the camera, wondered how much of what you did here was conveyed to everyone else. Soap surely must know about yesterday. The fracture was small and hadn’t been deforming so it was going to be left to heal on its own, but you definitely had two black eyes from it that Rudy and Ale had spent most of last night icing.

“Everyone is… energetic” you said cautiously, not wanting to break NDA.

“Ha! Is Price there? He’ll reassure you that you don’t need to watch your words around me.”

“He isn’t. Um, Soap is here? Well not here here, but watching and listening.”

“Of course he is the little pervert. Do you enjoy hot chocolate?”

“I suppose?”

“Good, go make yourself some, there are provisions in the kitchen. I will work on getting you confirmation that you are clear to tell me whatever you want to.”

He hung up. The man fucking hung up and you just gaped at the phone. What kind of phone sex was this?

“He hung up?” Soap asked, popping his head in the door with a lazy grin.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on cameras?”

“Aren’t you supposed tae be diddlin’ yerself tae the dulcet tones of an old Russian man?”

You rolled your eyes and groaned as you forced your weary body to stand.

“Yeah well he told me to make a hot chocolate.”

“Offt, hot and steamy eh?”

You laughed because it was nice to see him outwith a session. He was goofier than you had thought he would be, less intense. His hair was floppy today, not styled, and he was wearing tartan pj bottoms with his chest bare.

“Well come on in then. Hot chocolate?”

“Dinnae mind if I do!”

You had a bitter fight about the correct ratio of powder to milk and you discovered he was very particular about marshmallows. He got the plant based ones because he said the texture of gelatine based sweets icked him out. You were crying with laughter at how he went on about it. Given how he was in bed, you hadn’t thought he’d be easy to ick out about any sort of texture in his mouth.

It was nice. It wasn’t aftercare to bring you down, it was just… hanging out. It was stealing his marshmallows because he had gotten some of the cream on your face. It was him teasing you because when he asked about your day with Price you had hidden your face in your mug to not give yourself away, but there had been no hiding your soft smile thinking about it.

You both chatted away while people watching out of the “window”. Whoever had chosen the backdrop had a sense of humour because the two of you were able to play where’s wally with one of the people wandering the city street being in an iconic white and red stripped shirt, bobble hat and blue trousers.

By the time you were down to the bottom of your mug you were relaxed, content. Yeah everything still ached, but this was just what you needed. A day to chill out with no expectations on your body.

The phone rang and Johnny took your mug with a smile and went to clean up while you bounced back onto the plush couch cushions to answer.

“I hear you’re an old Russian man” you teased.

“Well that’s a first, I assure you that you’re mistaken.”

The noise of panic and the subsequent flailing to sit up straight and put your professional face on invited curious looks from Johnny.

“Ma’am, sorry I thought you were someone else” you said, still intimidated by Kate Laswell more than you could ever say.

“At ease. I’m calling to explain that your NDA pertains to those not involved in the Kennel. While you are there you can speak with anyone about whatever you would like. Hell, they have clearance to know about every top secret op you’ve ever been involved with.”

Well that was both reassuring and low key terrifying. Jesus who were these people? Johnny had wandered over to ask who was on the phone since he had sussed out that at the very least it wasn’t Nik.

“Soap is there? While you are allowed to tell him anything, if you do it will get back to Ghost. And Gaz. And Price. And whoever else he comes across that day. The boy is an insatiable gossip. Nik isn’t, so you can be comfortable with him. Put me on speaker.”

You put her on speaker while squinting in suspicion at Johnny. How much of your time together did everybody else know about? God, that was embarrassing and yet kind of hot to think about, him giving other people a play by play.

“Soap.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“The brief today does not involve you. You can look, but no touching.”

“…yes ma’am.”

She hung up and both of you relaxed your shoulders.

“That wummin’ scares the shite out of me on the phone. In person I dinnae feel it, but when I cannae see her face I feel like I’m in trouble all the time.”

You laughed at him and he grinned back. The phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Did you have hot chocolate?”

“Nik! You nearly gave me a heart attack having Laswell call! I called her an old Russian man!”

“Did you now? Who has been calling me old?”

Ah. Shit.

“Uh… nobody?”

“Strange way to pronounce Soap. I hope he is being good to you.”

“He is” you said with a stupid smile on your face as you glanced over to the man in question who was now minding his own business and looking out of the not window.

“I am glad. He is a good boy when he wants to be. Now, would you like to talk about the rinsing?”

You wanted to. Even with Laswell’s warning that Johnny was a terrible gossip so everybody would know, you wanted to.

“I was with Sin Nombre yesterday.”

“Ah, she is a viper.”

“Oh my God she is! Did you know I have two black eyes and a nose fracture? She was so mean about it as well! So much worse than Keegan was and he was a right wanker. I’m actually really mad at how easily she took me in a fight, I do have training. And she beat the shit out of Ale which felt uncalled for, he’s been nothing but nice. Also do you know why the hell Rudy of all people was detained? He’s such a sweetheart. It makes no sense that he’s been recently detained and Gaz hasn’t y’know? Like don’t get me wrong, Gaz was so nice and he was clearly cut up about going as hard as he did, but he definitely could hurt a civilian carrying on like that.”

Well that certainly got away from you. It was just a lot. The last week had been a lot. You had never had this level of physical intimacy before, but you also were suffering from a lack of friends. They were hard to keep in your line of work and being able to get on the phone and just rant and rave and gossip was something you had always wanted for yourself which felt silly, but at the end of the day the longing for it was there.

And oh he gave it to you. Nik laughed with you about the idiosyncrasies of these people and commiserated on your aches and pains. You wound up talking about everything and anything. No confidentiality, no ‘can’t tell you or I’d have to kill you’. You were free to tell him whatever the hell you wanted and it was wonderful.

You liked him a lot. He had dry wit and took life with no seriousness at all. He told you about Gaz hanging out of his helicopter and you couldn’t believe it was the truth. He had stories upon stories, each more outrageous than the next.

“So… I actually did put on nice underwear today thinking you’d ask about it.”

It was shocking that you were the one propositioning him. You had walked in here thinking phone sex wouldn’t be your cup of tea at all but would be doable. Now? Well you sort of wanted to try it because he was nice and playful and you liked his voice. And yes, maybe because your body was sort of craving a little release. Fuck, your whole system was turning into a needy mess now that it had gotten a taste of hedonism.

“Tell me about it” he said, a raspy sort of purr to his voice that sent a spark straight between your legs.

“It’s pretty. Light blue, little pink flowers embroidered in the mesh.”

“And how much of it is mesh?”

“Most of it. It’s see through.”

“I will have to visit one day to see it in person. Would you like to know about mine?”

“Yes.”

“I will have to disappoint, I don’t wear underwear. And now that I have put my hand down to check, I find I am rather comfortable holding my cock. He seems eager for you tell me all about what’s underneath that pretty underwear.”

You had to clear your throat as you wriggled a little, your pussy very much waking up and interested. You had never done this before and you were flooding with nerves about it.

“I um… well” you mumbled, trying to find any of the fire you had slowly been finding the past week. “My pussy feels needy.”

“Oh miyala, we must deal with that. I want you to put the phone on speaker on the table and get yourself comfortable.”

Your breathing was a little too fast to convince him that you were totally confident in what you were doing, but you put the phone on speaker and gently laid it down before sinking into the corner of the sofa, moving around until you were nice and comfortable.

“Are you good?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to take your clothes off so that Soap can tell me exactly what it feels like looking at you in that pretty underwear you mentioned.”

Oh God, you had forgotten he was even in the room, but there he was, leaning against the not window and looking at you. He gave you a nod that said ‘go ahead’. You swallowed and took your t-shirt off before wriggling out of your pants, letting both items of clothing lay in a heap on the floor.

This felt so sensual. Like you weren’t you, instead you were some confident woman who lounged in lingerie in her lux apartment, unbothered by having one man talk you through touching yourself on the phone while another got him off by describing it.

“She wisnae lying. Very pretty. Can see her nipples through it.”

“Are they hard?”

“Aye, could be harder though.”

“Well then, play with your tits. Don’t go under the bra given it’s so pretty, squeeze over it, nice and soft and slow.”

You let yourself relax back, gaze drifting to the ceiling and softening. The first soft brush of your hand over your breast felt nice, comfortable. God you had been mean to your body, pushing it so hard. Time to be nice with it.

When you rubbed at your more sensitive nipple you whined low and languid.

“Oh that’s beautiful. What happened there?”

“She played with her nipple. Right one is more sensitive” Soap explained, leaning against the back on the sofa at the opposite end from where you were and just watching.

“Give the left some love miyala. She may not be as sensitive but she still deserves to be played with.”

You switched to the left, lazily played with it until it was just as peaked as the right.

“Ah, you must tell me you understand when I give instruction.”

“Yes, I understand sir.”

“Good girl.”

You’d never played with your breasts like this since you couldn’t cum from breast play alone so it felt like a waste of time. Why hadn’t you? This was nice, it just felt nice. Slow pleasure for the sake of it, just because you could. No other plans but this.

“Hmm I can hear the pleasure in your breathing. Just that has me very hard miyala. I’m playing with my balls nice and soft and slow the way you are playing with your tits, but my cock is getting impatient. Will you put your lovely hand down those pretty panties for me?”

“Slow” Soap added.

You gave your tits a firm, loving squeeze before letting your fingers trail sensually down your bare undercarriage, leaving little patterns as you worked over your stomach to the hem of your panties. Fuck, had you ever touched you body like this? No thinking about if it was attractive, no worrying about how you looked, just enjoying the feeling of touch.

“She’s dipping into them now Nik, dinnae think I’ve seen a bonnier sight.”

“Hm I don’t often find myself feeling envy, but I feel it for you today. Fingers on your clit, gentle, slow. Is it slippery already from how you’ve been rubbing your legs together? Gather some more wetness from your hole and make sure it’s so slippery getting friction is difficult.”

“God Nik, sir, I’m so wet already” you moaned, loving how the lightest touch had your body warming and happy. “Please can you touch yourself while I play with my clit? Want you to feel as good as I do.”

Who the fuck said that because surely it wasn’t you. You who had been a virgin until a week ago. Fuck it, it was. And you loved it. And that was ok.

“I’m wrapping one hand around my cock now. Pumping so slow, but I’m leaking so much miyala. You make me feel twenty years younger, I fear I won’t last long with your pretty moans in my ear.”

Your little moans and sighs had nothing on the deep grunts coming from his end. You could hear his hand pulling at his cock, hear how he got faster and the sound turned wetter. It was the most erotic thing you had ever heard and you found yourself speeding up as well, trying to find purchase in the flood of arousal.

“Can I cum?” Nik asked with a groan.

Him asking you that zapped through you with the force of a lightning bolt and you cried out.

“Yes, cum Nik! Fuck, I’m going to cum!”

Your hips bucked off of the sofa and you thrust up against your hand as you rode it out, closing your eyes to focus on the sound of his choked shout as he went flying with you.

When you slowly came down you couldn’t help but breathlessly laugh as you took your hand from your panties and rested it on your belly, the other forearm draped across your forehead. Fuck, that was good. That was so good. Nothing harsh for your body, just a nice, lazy orgasm.

“I made a mess miyala” Nik laughed.

“So did I. The mesh on these feels awful this wet.”

“Go get cleaned up, comfy underwear on. Babushka panties.”

You howled with laughter at that.

“Thank you Nik, this was… really nice. I enjoyed speaking with you.”

“Anytime. Even if it is just to complain, you can call me and I will listen. Good-bye miyala.”

“Bye Nik.”

You heaved up to hit the button to hang up, but Soap beat you to it. You went to thank him and your whole body tensed. Danger. You were in fucking danger. His eyes were blown out, focused on your wet cunt sticking uncomfortably to your panties. There were little half moons dug into his palm from his nails and they were bleeding from how hard he had went.

“Johnny? I don’t want to do anything else today.”

His palm came too quickly for you to get a shout out, grabbing your own that had been laying on your forehead and crushing it to your mouth.

“Dinnae say something ye might regret” he said, as if in a trance while he crushed your other hand to your stomach with his knee.

You couldn’t shout out the word, you couldn’t give the hand signal and nobody was on cameras because you were supposed to be safe with it just being phone sex. He started to lean over you, the knee on you painful and his eyes crazed.

There was a sharp whistle and he snapped his head to the doorway before scrambling off of you.

“I wisnae-”

“Out.”

You expected him to fight, but all that aggressive energy just drained right out of him as he started towards the door. You shakily rolled over to look. You didn’t know the large man standing there. His face was heavily scarred, one cut through his upper lip that made it hitch, but he was handsome with a strong jaw and messy blonde hair cut short.

Soap looked well and truly chastised as he walked out past the man whose eyes stuck to yours.

“Laswell called as soon as she confirmed he was in the room. You weren’t in danger from him princess, I was right here the whole time.”

“Is he ok?”

“He’ll be fine so long as you keep your mouth shut about this. He wouldn’t have hurt you.”

You didn’t believe him, but you did believe that he wouldn’t have let him hurt you.

“I won’t say anything.”

You knew it was stupid and destructive. Soap was a danger to you, at least he had been just now. You should tell Price, get him detained so he didn’t wind up hurting someone. But you were selfish and you selfishly really liked him and didn’t want to see him caged.

“Good.”

The man left, the door closing with a snick behind him. You took a few minutes to calm your racing heart and then went to clean up and have a quiet night.

[sadcoms]

timepetals thoughts i keep having:

i know that the assumption is “she is my s-” means soulmate but i always think he just thinks of rose as his soul. less that she completes him or is his other half and more that she just is his conscience and any goodness he may have is hers. he was born out of love for her, she is such an integral part of him, she is his soul itself.

i know everyone has taken permanent damage from the “how long are you going to stay with me” and why the general focus is on the doctor’s reaction but the way rose says forever gets to me. she’s not giddy or girlish when she says it, in some ways she almost sounds resigned to it, which has wonderfully angsty connotations in the timeline of s2. but it’s why it really works for me, she is so dead serious and committed when she says it, because she understands everything it means (and therefore part of her feels solemn about it). it has a lot of weight to it. even the first time donna says she’s going to travel with the doctor forever to martha at the end of the doctor’s daughter she sounds a lot more fanciful.

every time i hear the doctor scream when rose loses her grip in doomsday i just think that he would absolutely not have survived her actually being sucked into the void.

i always think the vocals in doomsday are similar to the doctor’s theme so to me the angry rock music is rose’s side and the vocals are his, rather than the howling wolf idea i’ve heard some people compare it to. how the doctor’s theme is lonely and mournful with its sparse instruments but calm, everything the ninth doctor was, while doomsday is heartbroken and angry and an entire orchestra because it’s two people overcome with grief together. how doomsday becomes such a motif for both characters individually, even when they're separated.

i still struggle to comprehend that the doctor wearing floral ties in s3 is canon and NOT a fanfic trope like you're telling the doctor said "i need a floral motif as close to my two hearts as possible" and you're describing him as something other than a grieving widower???

the doctor really could not go anywhere in s3 without running into some kind of couple but i never see people talk about the parallels in 42. “we chose this ship together / he keeps me honest so i don’t want false hope” and the way the doctor literally gives mcdonnell his condolences through gritted teeth?? the fact that she would rather die with korwin than be without him and have it be her fault

that the doctor, king of self-loathing, saw rose dressed as his ninth self and carrying a giant weapon and he not only RAN to her but then deliberately protected her from the trauma of seeing him change again. and then tentoo immediately picks a blue suit to be like now i’m matchey matchey with rose 🥰 the universe was ending and he’d seen rose again for two actual minutes but the doctor was so utterly focused on her.

how tentoo truly is rose's doctor, especially as he's got that little bit of nine in him. he's born out of the same love and protection of his previous incarnations but he loses a heart and the curse of the timelords and goes oh, this is rose's heart. and then he wears the blue mourning suit and yes, there is still mourning, but there is also the start of the rest of their lives together.

how the doctor’s hair most noticeably changed after school reunion to become spikier and less boyish. how that coincides with him using mickey to put distance between himself and rose now that he’s been reminded of rose’s mortality.

how wild the doctor and jack’s conversation in utopia is. the way the doctor says “rose” like it’s an entire explanation in itself because even before she absorbed the time vortex she fundamentally changed the life of everyone she met. the way he says “everything she did was so human” and the way he accepts jack’s sorry to him because there’s no trying to deny his feelings from jack, not when he saw his ninth self. the way jack has BARELY finished his sentence about watching rose grow up when the doctor casually asks him if he wants to die, the almost playful way he says it. one semi suicidal immortal who spent half of the season trying to get himself killed to another, both of them still kind of toying with the idea. both of them trying to have hope even though they've lost so much.

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - The Night Sky Is Filled With Gay Thoughts

This one is shorter than the other chapters but I really felt like Nightmare's gay panic deserved its own chapter lmao

First

Prev

Next

@ancha-aus your seat is reserved

We entering Nightmare's bitch arc ya'll

Tw: some slightly suggestive talk but nothing serious happens, self hatred of course as I am physically unable to write about Nightmare without adding angst

The moon was so high in the sky, everyone was sleeping. Everyone one except Nightmare, he had been unwell all day, since Horror came back from his hunt, he had found himself spacing out, not responding to either Killer nor Dust when they tried talking to him, having trouble concentrating enough to translate, and totally unable to look at Horror in the eyesockets. Now he was laying on his back, on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

What happened ? He had felt weird all afternoon, starting when Horror came back. He should have been horrified, the Viking came back covered in blood, holding a dead body on his shoulder, his stained weapon still in his hand. It has truly been an unsettling sight to see. He had put his axe, his blood stained axe, right next to Nightmare, and he had looked at him, planting his gaze in his, and Nightmare couldn't look anywhere else. Had he been scared ? Of course he had been scared, what kind of brute brought back his pray like that ? Still dripping with blood and without washing at least his hands ? But, he felt something new when his gaze met Horror's gaze...

He saw this brute, this man, holding a full corpse on his shoulder like it was a feather, covered in sweat and blood that wasn't his, his large hands holding an axe that looked no less heavy but that he manipulated with ease. And he felt his soul burn. He didn't know if his cheeks blushed, but he felt his whole body become hotter. When Horror left to cook he didn't know what to do, and Killer's staring at him with his grin didn't help him sort out his thoughts.

He couldn't think at all for the whole day, not participating in conversations during meals, he did his best not to look at the Viking, not to think about his hands, damaged by a hard life, about his muscular arms that could brobaly break him in half if he wanted to, hold him down and he wouldn't be able to move.

Nightmare shifted on the couch, turning his back to the living room, thinking about Horror above him and holding him down surprisingly didn't help calm his already racing soul.

Why did he feel so hot when thinking about the giant ? He shouldn't feel that way, Horror was a Viking, a brute who's only passtime was pillaging villages, killing men and kidnapping women for their own pleasure, there was nothing admirable in that. Really, thinking about Horror entering his home, breaking his belongings and take him away to keep him as a prize, a trophy, was truly terrifying. And yet he felt his face burn at the thought of being taken by him, preciously kept away as a fancy war prize for only Horror to touch and see.

That wasn't right. Horror could kill him, or worse, he could do unspeakable horrors to him, make him uffer, torture him mentally and physically, then tend to his wounds to ensure he wouldn't die, keep him safe from other pillagers, dress him with riches to show off to the other Vikings, tell him he is his and his alone, that no one else would ever put their filthy hands on him...

Nightmare got up. He needed water. He went to the bathroom, feeling like he would faint at any moment with the heat in his body. He watched the water flow for a few seconds before taking some in his hands to splash on his face until he felt cooler. He stayed bent over the sink for a while before standing straight and looking at himself in the mirror. His brother would probably laugh if he was there. Seriously, how pathetic could he be ? Losing his composure like that like he was some young lady fresh out of the coven discovering what temptation was ? He shouldn't feel that way ! He was a noble man ! He went back to lay on the couch.

He had a future planned for him, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted like that, he had to marry a noble woman, a lady with the same rank as him, and give her kids to ensure the continuity of his prestigious bloodline. That was what every noble did, that was what his mother did, what she had told him to do before passing away. He had to marry someone rich and full of virtue, love wasn't even on the table, you didn't marry out of love. His mother didn't marry out of love, there had never been any love in anything she had done, from marrying to having children, she had done everything because it was her purpose as a noble woman, not once had she felt any love for them, for her husband for whom she didn't cry at his funeral and for her two children whom she always let her servants take care of. That was just how things were supposed to work. That was what Nightmare, and Dream, were supposed to do, their glorious future.

And yet he found himself dreaming for more, dreaming of love, passion, of someone to hold tight and to be held tight by, someone to tell him he would be okay, that he didn't have to marry anyone he didn't want to, that he could let his heart chose. He tried so hard to make the wedding happen as late as possible, finding excuses to refuse the many proposals he received. He was so scarred of marriage. He didn't know why it scarred him so much, he knew he would still be free, that it was only for business purposes, that he wouldn't have to pretend to love his wife and she wouldn't have to pretend to love him either, but he would still have obligations that came with marriage. Children were a big part of this. He didn't dislike children, but he knew he would have to be intimate, he wasn't stupid, he knew how that worked, but he couldn't imagine himself doing.... that, with a woman... It was right but it felt wrong, it was the natural order of things but it didn't feel natural to him. Sure he could lie and say either him or his wife was infertile and that was why they couldn't have children, but lying about that wouldn't bring any good to their reputation, and reputation was important. No, he couldn't lie, but he couldn't do that either. It just didn't feel right...

And when he saw Horror bent over him, when he imagined him holding him, taking him away from everything he knew and making him his... everything had felt so right, so natural. He wanted him, he wanted him so bad. He didn't want to marry a woman, but he wanted to be Horror's prize, he wanted to be his precious thing, he wanted him to rock his world and softly kiss him, to tell him he could have hundreds just like him but he was the only one for him. He wanted this wicked romance. He wanted the harsh and he wanted the soft. Horror was soft. Soft and patient. He was careful around them, respected boundaries, brought back food, didn't have any vile intentions, he was only looking to care for them, for Dust particularly, as he was their unfortunate host with not enough means to provide for everyone. He was a gentle giant. A gentle giant with great strenght. Nightmare wanted that.

He hated himself for wanting that. His mother would have hated him too if she was still alive. She had always hated him anyways. He shouldn't feel that. It wasn't proper for a noble. He was such a disgrace, a pathetic excuse of a noble, no wonder he always felt out of place among his pairs, he couldn't do things right, he couldn't even feel right.

He grabbed a pillow to press it against his chest, laying down facing the back of the couch. He wanted to dissapear, to go back home and never see any of them ever again, to talk to his brother, Dream always knew what to do, he was always right, never out of place, he was everything Nightmare wasn't. But he wasn't there, and Nightmare was alone to face these atrocious feelings.

He hated it. He hated Horror for making him feel so good and so bad at the same time and he hated himself for allowing these feelings to take roots in his soul and for feeding them with his overthinking.

He just hated himself so much right now. He hated how he felt and he hated that he was crying again. It was the only thing he was good at sometimes. Crying.

He was pathetic.

[lucksea]

truly truly truly he fascinates me.

ill make a cool long splice later. see my vision

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Six

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: A frantic Jonathan, Hopper and Joyce look for Nancy in the darkness before uncovering the truth about the lab’s experiments. Steve starts accepting his babysitting role. Steph and Will are running out of time.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 15,845

🎲Date: 12/13/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Talks of Mental Health Issues; Bullying of All Kinds; Physical Fighting; Lying; "Death" and Talks of Death; Brief Mention of Corpses; Gun Use; Implied Unloving Parents; Implied Child Abuse; Implied Drug Abuse; Blood & Gore; Arson & Alcohol; Will & Steph's Mental Strain - Joyce's Too; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Dustin Being a Slight Asshole; Steve's 'Asshole Era'; Steve's Emotional Damage. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: I am sooooo sorry this took so long! It was never my intention to have neglected it for this long, but here it is. Hopefully it lives up to your expectations. Also, small heads up, I've only re-read this over a few times, so hopefully everything makes sense and looks good. Thank you for your patience ❤️. Enjoy!

You know what they say… Curiosity kills the cat. Or in this instance…

Curiosity kills the Wheeler.

Now she was staring at something truly horrifying, something that was like out of a Stephan King novel or out of an exorcist movie. This… thing was huge. When she first caught a glance of it at Steve’s house she never pictured it that big. An eight foot, lanky, twisted limb individual that was feasting on a poor deer. Her breath was caught in her throat, its munching sounds found its way into her ears rocking her to her core; Her dying flashlight was shaking in her hand.

She needs to leave, go back through the tree before this thing decides it wants desert. Yet, luck was not on her side, as soon as she took a step backwards something crackled beneath her feet. On cue the monster turns around with a shriek, causing her to drop everything and run.

“Jonathan!” She screams, hoping that he – someone – would hear. Then her heart skipped a beat when she got a reply. “JONATHAN!!”

“Nancy!”

She twisted around the trees, the beast right on her tail–

“I’m right here! Nancy! Just follow my voice!”

Follow his voice. Follow his voice. Follow his voice. Follow his– The thing decided to lunge, which she manages to get out of the way in the nick of time, running in a new direction.

“Follow my voice, Nancy, I’m right here! Nancy?!”

She pulls herself to a halt, clinging onto a tree and taking a breather. She hears him but she just can’t see him! Everything was starting to blur and look the same to the point she doesn’t even know where the damn entrance is!

“Jonathan…?” She whispers, and chokes down a sob as she hears the beast growling and lurking around somewhere behind. Is this it? Is this how her life was going to end? In a place that people probably won’t even believe exists? She shook to her core, the beast footsteps starting to fade, but what good would that be if she didn’t know where she was going?

But something must have answered her prayers as a hand suddenly covers her mouth, startling her as someone quietly and quickly shushes beside her ear. Her stomach dropped to her ankles, as she fearfully followed the hand to… she couldn’t even finish the thought she was so taken back. She was completely baffled to find it belonged to the Police Chief of Hawkins.

The Police Chief? She thought, her mind of course strolling to the dread and the worst of it all. Did her parents call because she was gone? Did Hopper get abducted like poor Will and Stephanie? What could it–

Once he registers that he has her attention (mostly), he silently tells her to follow him. Obliging, she stays close, following him right back to where she came through.

Relief fell through her, then once again horror when that growling came back at full force. The two parties stop, frozen as the beast returns a few paces behind them; Then… 

It charged. The next few seconds were a blur for Nancy– 

Barely remembering how he grabbed her and held her close–

Barely registering him taking out his firearm and taking shots–

Barely recalling as he yanked them both backwards into a tree–

.

.

.

Both Jonathan and Joyce let out a scream when someone’s hand shot through the bubble.

“HELP!!!” It shouts, their eyes widened.

“Hang on!!” Joyce yells, as her and her son use a death grip on his hand, planting their feet into the Earth and pulling with all their might. All it took was their faces to turn bloodshot red before finally seeing the upper half of Hopper’s body. “Ugh– COME ON!!”

And one more large yank from the both of them sent them flying across the forest floor, and Hopper crashed flat on his back with Nancy in his hold.

Hopper immediately squeezed the sobbing girl comfortably, reassuring her softly. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you…”

“Nancy!” Jonathan sighs with relief, him and Joyce crawling over to see them. He helped them sit up, the two of them covered in a weird goo, both looking like they had just seen hell and survived. 

As the four of them tried to process the last few minutes, they gazed upon the tree that was slowly closing itself back up. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Eleven!” Her name erupted his throat for the thousandth time tonight. Steve’s not quite sure what time it was, but it was definitely dark and freezing cold, yet he refuses to give up. “Eleven!”

Once he was completely sure his mother was dead asleep it was easy enough to slip out again. Dressed as warmly as he could, flashlight in hand, baseball bat in the other with a backpack full of supplies for anything that he might need along the way. He even brought an extra jacket to sling around the kid when he found her. He was left circling around the junkyard and the area around it; And of course it had to be all wooded, the perfect place to hide.

“Eleven!” He shouts again, then sighs, his breath could be seen in the air. “Look, kid, I… I don’t know if you can hear this, but if you can, I’m not mad about what happened. Frankly, I’m more worried about you. And that’s the god’s honest truth, I swear, I just…” Another sigh. “It’s cold, and I don’t want you freezing. I just… I-I just want you to be alright, kiddo. Okay?”

Of course he was expecting an answer, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get a reply which was correct. Instead, he was met with a heavy wind blow that sent a chill through his body.

Shit… He frowns. “Listen, if I don’t see you in the next few hours or you don’t want to approach me, just… please consider going back to Mike’s place, or… you can even come to mine.”

Then he mentally slapped himself. Of course she wouldn’t know his place! “Um, if– if you remember where Will’s house is, I’m not too far from there. The woods across the street just take that straight through. The walk’s about… forty minutes, and uh, my house has a big pool in the backyard and… I’ll be waiting for you. Um…”

It kind of hurts that he’s not getting an answer.

“I’ll probably have to repeat what I just said in a few hours but–” His face morphs into something warm and greeting. “I really hope you heard what I said. And please consider.”

Nothing again, and Steve prays that she hears him, I mean, that’s all he can do as he starts his walk back up again; Shouting her name over and over until the sun starts to rise.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

She felt him pull the blanket around them closer before snuggling against her side – not just for warmth this time, but for comfort, something they both desperately needed now. Steph and Will found themselves sitting inside Castle Byers, both trying to stay snug, both trying to process what had happened in the last few hours, those…

Those hours that they couldn’t even believe just happen. 

“So…” Steph begins, fiddling with the walkman in her hands, the one that apparently saved her from the nightmare she was in. “You just played music?”

“Uh, huh.” Will said, nodding.

“And…” Her hands shook at the slightest. Just thinking about it made her skin crawl. “How did you know how to do that?”

“I didn’t.” He frowns, visibly upset. “Like I said earlier, when I accidently turned on the boombox, the music was scaring the monster away. So I thought, maybe, whatever had a hold on you would have the same effect.”

“Well it worked.” She lays the device in her lap, sighing into her hands, thinking. “Listen, Will, I’m going to be blunt.” She meets his worried gaze. “I don’t think we’re going to make it.”

Steph hated how easily those words slipped out, how easily it was to admit that they were stuck in a rut. Her fingers clawed at her thighs as she continued, “I mean, I have faith in your mom, I really do, but we’re running out of time here. And who knows if she’s even figured out a way to get to us, if she knows where we are. We’re both…” She swallows. “We’re both physically and mentally tired, we’re starving and cold too. I mean, if that thing doesn’t kill us, then the cold certainly will. Look at us, we’re shaking and we have layers upon layers of clothes that slowly are not doing much for us. We’re slowly dying at this point.”

Will says nothing knowing she’s right. He’s lost count how many pairs of socks were on his feet, or sweaters he has under his jacket. “Then… what do we do?”

She sighs again, rubbing her forehead (and putting her brain into overdrive). “Alright let’s stop and really think. We obviously weren’t the only ones brought here, right? Remember the girl from Steve’s pool?”

“Yeah.” He straightens up a bit, catching on what she was trying to explain. “From the looks of it, that thing caught her off guard.”

“See, that’s what I was thinking. What if that thing–” She shakes her head. “You know what, we got to give it a name. Can’t keep calling it ‘thing’ or ‘beast’, it’s confusing. Um…”

Will suddenly recalls what started all this indirectly. “...I got beaten by the Demogorgon.”

“Huh?”

“I rolled a seven, and I needed to roll a ten, so I ended up getting beaten by the Demogorgon.” He locks eyes with her again. “We got beaten by the Demogorgon.”

She clenches her jaw. “The Demogorgon. That’s what is hunting us.” Steph says, while nodding. “Okay. Okay. Alright, so what I was thinking is that Demogorgon is like a wolf. It kills its prey, and drags it back to the den, its home, this place, to feast.”

“So… it’s hungry, and this whole place is its home?”

“Correct. The thing is, who knows if we are even the Demogorgon’s first victims? There could have been plenty of people before us that got dragged here. There’s probably been more people than the girl at the pool we saw.”

“So if it’s dragging people here, then it’s somehow able to travel between here and Hawkins. Like it’s using a gateway.”

“Correct. But I don’t think it’s using one gateway, I think there’s somehow more than one.”

He tilts his head, curious. “How so?”

“Remember what you said? The girl looked like she was caught off guard. But–” How does she phrase this? “But she was scared like we were scared when we first saw that thing. Now, I mean we’re still scared anytime we come across the Demogorgon, but not like the first meeting, right?”

“Yeah.” Will said, after taking a second to process it. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“See? Every time we encounter it, it comes out of nowhere.”

“Like it portal-hops, almost.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“So out there…” He starts looking more hopeful. “There’s at least a few gateways. So all we have to do is find one, and maybe it’ll take us home.”

Steph nods before frowning. “There’s only one problem about that. Every time we try doing something to help us get out of here, the Demogorgon shows up. I mean, this evil version of Hawkins is still Hawkins. It’s huge. We’ll never be able to search around without having to worry about it showing up.”

“We have to do something then.”

“Yeah. I mean–” She shrugs. “What can we do? Music and guns seemed to only stun it.”

“Unless, we figure out a way to not stun it. What if…” Will couldn’t believe what was coming out of his mouth next–

.

.

.

“What if we kill it?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper let himself close his eyes as he rested at the table, sitting in nothing but his boxer briefs and undershirt. His (dry clean only) uniform had been shoved into the wash in an attempt to get the sticky goo off as he’s second in line for the shower. He was still trying to process what he just went through in the last hour. Another world, real monsters, the lab, the Staties, the fake bodies, everything. It was way too much for the forty-two year old man to wrap his head around. Way too much for any sane human being.

My god… what have I gotten myself into? He was pulled from his thoughts when someone rattled the table as they sat down.

“Look, we gotta go through this again.” Joyce pushed eagerly, hands flat against the news articles Hopper brought over.

The Police Chief looks at her tiredly. “I told you everything that I saw.” He replies, then takes a puff of smoke from his cigarette. 

“Oh, my gosh.” She rolls her eyes. “Tell me again.”

Just before Hopper could continue, her son came into the room, looking mentally and physically exhausted. “Is she alright?” He asked, getting a nod.

“Yeah.” Jonathan said, nervously fiddling with his hands as he took a seat with them. “She’s showering right now.”

“That’s good.” Joyce said, before turning her attention back on the other adult. “Continue.”

“Upstairs or downstairs?” He asks, softly. 

“Upstairs.”

“There was a laboratory. It was where they must do experiments or something, and then there was… there was this kid’s room–”

“How do you know it was a kid’s room?”

“It’s.. M-More like a prison.”

“So why would you think it was a kid’s room, then?”

Hopper inhales sharply. “Because, I told you, the size of the bed, there was a drawing, there was a stuffed animal–”

Joyce perks up. “You didn’t say there was a drawing.”

“Yeah, there was a drawing of a... an adult and a child. It said ‘Eleven’ on it.”

“Was it good?” Both Joyce and Jonathan said in unison, both having the same idea.

Hopper looks between the two, confused. “It was a kid’s drawing. It was stick figures.”

Joyce then sighs herself, getting up quickly to fetch something before slamming it down in front of him. “Wasn’t Will.” She clarifies, as he takes in the skillful drawing, confusion going away instantly.

Although that went away, something else took its place.

His eyes widened. “Earl…” Hopper mutters, setting the drawing aside to grab the news articles, shifting them around to find something he just thought of. “The night that Benny died, Earl said he saw some kid with a shaved head with Benny. Now, I pressed him, he said it might be Will, but maybe…”

“Maybe, it wasn’t?” Jonathan asked, him and his mother leaning in closer to what the cop was digging around for. 

“Look…” He flashes the piece of paper at them, a woman plastered on the front of it all. “This woman, Terry Ives, she claims to have lost her daughter, Jane. She sued Brenner, she sued the government… Now, the claims came to nothing, but what if…” A look of horror crosses his face. “I mean, what if this whole time I’ve been… I’ve been looking for Will… I’ve been chasing after some other kid? What if this goes so much deeper than we thought?”

“So you’re saying that, maybe this Brenner guy is taking kids for some… experiment?” Joyce asked, trying to get some clarity. 

“Maybe yes, maybe no.” He replies, his fingers subtly twitching against the table. “But I know in my gut that the lab has something to do with your son’s disappearance. It has to. There’s too many paths crossing for them not to be.”

“Okay, but if that is the case, why Will? And where does Stephanie fit into this?” Jonathan asked.

“Here’s the thing about Stephanie, with all the evidence we have, I think she simply was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. I think Will was always the main target, she just happened to be there when they decided to move in.” Hopper sighs. “Where is she now? I don’t know. But they must have crossed paths with her once if they managed to make a fake corpse that looks like her.”

The teenager took a moment to think everything over, before shaking his head. “This is getting… insane. Really insane.”

“Tell me about it, kid. I know.”

“Then what’s the next step? Where do we go from here?” Joyce asks, but before she got an answer, Nancy had entered the room. Semi-damp towel wrapped around her neck, and dressed in clothes she was given, she comes in with a distant look that she tries to play off.

“Thank you for the clothes, and shower, Ms. Byers.” 

“Oh, no need to thank me. Um…” Joyce takes a step towards her with a warm smile. “Listen, it’s late. How about you stay the night?”

“Are you sure?” Nancy asked, surprised. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Just… call your mother. I wouldn’t want her to worry. Uh, Jonathan–” She gets her son’s attention. “Why don’t you show her where the phone is and get the extra blankets and pillows out?” She awaits for them to disappear from sight before turning back to Hopper and asking,  “So what’s the next step?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It wasn’t until she had to get Joyce on the phone to confirm she really was at the Byers Household that Nancy was allowed to stay. They came up with some excuse that Nancy was helping Jonathan with some homework and it went later than expected. Luckily, Karen bought it, and now her daughter was wondering how she was even going to get any sleep. Every time she closes her eyes… she sees that thing. That monster stalked her like prey, and was this close to snagging her and the Police Chief and ending their lives.

This. Freaking. Close.

I mean… how would Jonathan and his mother explain to her family what happened? To explain how she was eaten/killed by a beast with no eyes?  Speaking of…

“You feel better?” Jonathan asks, as he looks up from fixing up his bed when enters the room. 

“Yeah.” She said, nodding. 

“That’s good. Um…” He shifts nervously on the balls of his feet, gesturing to the object at hand. “I-Is my bed okay? Do you need another blanket? Or–”

Nancy shakes her head. “I-I can’t take your bed.”

“Trust me, my mom will kill me if I offer you the couch.” He chuckles. “Just take it. I’ll sleep in Will’s room.”

“You sure?” She asks, and he nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats, and starts making his way to leave, but–

“It’s just, um…” Her hands squeeze together tightly. “I… I don’t wanna be alone, so….” She adverts her eyes. “Can you, like, stay with me tonight?”

“S-Stay?” He slurs, surprised.

She shakes her head slowly as she sits down on the bed. “Yeah…”

“Uh, y-yeah. I-I’ll stay. Um–” He looks around the room. “Just let me get–”

“Can you just come sit? Uh, you can… take half the bed if you want or…” She groans quietly into her hands, before shuttering visibly. “Jesus…”

Jonathan immediately sits down as well, taking in how scared she is and tries to find the right words. “You know, it… it can’t get us in here.”

“We don’t know that.” Nancy whispers, looking at him “Every time I close my eyes, I just… keep seeing that... thing. Wherever I was, that place… I think that it lives there. It was feeding there. Feeding on that deer.”

“Hey, I won’t let it get you.”

“But it got everyone else? That means that if… if Will, Stephanie and Barbara…”

“Hey.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder, giving her a side hug. “My mom said she talked to Will. Talked to Stephanie. If they’re alive, there’s a chance Barbara is, too. That means that she’s… trapped in that place. We just have to find it again.”

She gives him a puzzled look. “You wanna go back out there?”

“I don’t know.” He frowns. “I’ll see what my Mom and the Police Chief say tomorrow, then I’ll make a decision.” 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin springs up and off the couch when he hears the front door open and shut. Walking the direction of where it was, he was nearly bulldozed over by his big sister, whose arms were crossed and had a sour look upon her face.

“Where have you been?” He asked, following her closely behind. “You didn’t walk me home from school, and you’ve been gone for six hours now. Mom’s worried sick and is looking for you.”

“Well I’m fine. I just wanted to clear my head.” She mutters, heading for her room.

“You could have cleared your head when you came home. You could have just told mom you wanted some time alone. You didn’t have to freaking disappear on us.” What will their mom say? She’s been freaking out and fearing the worst and his sister’s acting like it’s nothing! What’s her deal? “Phanie? Phanie you listening? Phanie–”

“Jesus, Dustin–” She turns around to face him, stopping in the middle of her doorway. Her sour expression had faded into a certain sadness he couldn’t pinpoint. “Just– I’ll explain to mom what happened, I just… I just want to be left alone.”

His shoulders slack at her tone. “Okay. That’s fine. It’s just, we were just worried, you know? You normally don’t disappear like that. We… should I call Steve to let you know you’re fine? I’m sure he’s worried–”

“I don’t want to talk about Steve. I don’t want you to, or mom, I don’t even want to see him again.”

“Phanie…?”

“I don’t–” She laughs quietly on the verge of tears. “I shouldn’t even be crying. It’s not like he cares, or that he wants to be my friend anymore, or… h-he acts like he doesn’t so… fuck–”

“Stephanie–”

“Just leave me alone!”

Then she slams the door in his face without a warning or word. 

.

.

.

That was over two years ago, and he still doesn’t know the full story (and even doubts that he ever will). His sister told their mother they had a bit of a disagreement that led to their falling out, ending all discussions and/or thoughts about the boy; Everything she had that held any memory of him was long stored away. Or so he thought.

Dustin still couldn’t wrap his head around why she was still wearing this damn necklace he gave her. Out of everything that they gave one another, he would think that this gift was the most sentimental of them all, so why keep it?

He examines in his palm almost wanting to chuck in the trash, but another part of him wants to wait until he gets his sister back to ask her, ‘Why? Just why?’. 

Phanie. I just don’t get it. Is there something I’m missing? But his thoughts were abruptly stopped when his walkie fired up with feedback. He sets it aside and grabs the walkie, pulling up the antenna to listen.

[ ‘Dustin, you copy?’ ]

“Yeah, Mike. I copy. What’s up?”

[ ‘Meet me at my place. We got to go over a few things.’ ]

“Copy that. Over and out.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will couldn’t believe where all the confidence suddenly came from, especially given their situation. But for some reason, it all felt so right to say.

Stephanie stares at the boy with her big blue eyes, a little bit shocked by what he said. “You want to kill it?” She asked, to confirm.

“Yeah.” He says, adrenaline pumping his veins. “What if we kill the Demogorgon? If we kill it, it might be our only shot at finding a gate unscathed.”

She blinks. “That’s… that’s not the most terrible idea I’ve heard. But how does one kill a thing like that?”

Will hums, brows pushed together in concentration. “Music?”

“Music could work.” She nods. “However, from what you told me, one boombox seemed to just scare it off. There’s no electricity, it’s not like we can broadcast a song over the radio, we’re going to need a lot more boxes. Plus, who knows if we have to play the same song on all of them. There’s no way everyone in town has the same cassettes.”

“True.” He bites his lip. “Guns? We can go get more.”

“Guns could do the job. But when you faced it back at the house? Did it look injured at all? I shot after we talked with your mom.”

“Hmm.” He stops to rack his brain again. Did it? “I think it was injured, but it surely didn’t stop it from coming after me.”

“Okay. So if we use guns, I mean we’re going to have to rapidly fire after rapid fire.”

“That’s going to be too hard.”

“Yeah.”

“So what do we do?”

Stephanie stops to think for herself, pulling the blanket close when she gets a chill. And that’s when the lightbulb went off. “Cold.” She gasps quietly. “This place is cold. It must like the cold. If it likes the cold, then–”

“It hates the heat.” Will perks up excitedly. “Heat is the weakness, then–”

“We can kill the Demogorgon with it.” She couldn’t help but smile at the revelation. “Alright, quickly. What is stuff that’s flammable?”

“Flammable? Um, matches, gasoline, lighter fluid–”

“Alcohol.” She replies. “If we can get all those things, find a good place to set up a trap, overload the shit out of it with everything it hates, and we kill it then…”

“We might be able to go home.”

Their gazes lock again, and suddenly they felt like they were finally on the same level, save wavelength with their thinking. They finally found something that could bribe them into not losing their will to live.

“Then let’s go shopping.” Steph said, grinning. Her words kickstarted them to pack everything up and crawl out of the hideout. Before they took off, she stares down at the walkman again, thinking. “You know, just thought of something.”

“What?” Will asks, looking up at her.

“Remember when we said that maybe we could hear people if they were only thinking negatively?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, they say when playing your favorite music, your brain releases dopamine, giving you a sense of euphoria. What if playing the music keeps all the bad things away?”

“That makes sense. You did say when you were trapped in that place, it got all brighter when the song was playing.”

“Yeah. It did.” She looks down at it again, fascinated by how such a basic thing saved her life. 

“Maybe you should wear it while we walk there.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. Better safe than sorry, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She sighs. “Okay, I will. But listen–” She makes sure she has his full attention. “If you start feeling weird, or you get a headache, or your nose starts to bleed, or anything unusual, you need to tell me and I’ll hand it over. Capish?” He nods. “Good. Got ‘The Clash’ cassette?”

“Yep.” He nods, patting his pocket.

“Alright. Let’s go.” She slides on the headsets and starts the song before taking his hand.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce was nervously fiddling with the cigarette in her mouth as she waited for Hopper to get off the phone with some kind of news. She hopes it’s good news, she hopes that he’s able to use his connections to get some kind of push in the right direction.

Come on, Hop. Don’t let me down. She soon watches him hang the phone on the receiver, and turns her way. “Did you get it?” 

“I got it.” Hopper replies, waving the piece of paper around. 

“Got what?” Jonathan interrupted as he entered the kitchen. “Mom?”

“Um–” She briefly looks over at the Police Chief. “We found out where that Terry Ives woman lives. We’re going to pay her a visit.”

“Oh.” He looks between them for a second. “Just the two of you?”

“Listen–” She places her hands on his shoulder. “It would be best if just me and Hopper went alone.”

“Mom–”

“She’s right, son.” Hopper cuts in. “Something big is going on, and it would be best and safe if you and Nancy stay behind.”

“But, Chief–”

“If the lab is really behind this, then it’s better that they don’t know the two of you are involved in solving this, alright?”

As much as he hated to admit it, Jonathan knew he had a point. “Alright.”

“Just… make sure Nancy gets home safe, and stays out of trouble.” Hopper glances over at Joyce. “I’ll get the car started up.”

“Okay.” She says, watching him leave. “Listen–” She pats her son’s chest to make sure he’s paying attention. “If you want to, you can stalk up on ammo for our guns, that’s fine with me. However that’s not an invitation to be going after that thing we saw. Guns are emergencies only. Alright?”

He cracks a small smile. “Alright.”

“Good. And only if Nancy feels up to it. But I have a feeling that she’s not leaving until she gets some answers too.”

“Okay, mom. I got it. We’ll be good.”

“Good.” She says, just before Hopper honked his horn and shouted something incoherently. “Okay. I got to go. Love you, and be safe.”

“I will.” He squeezes her hand real quick. “You too. Be safe.” He anxiously watches her leave, and that’s with him knowing how skilled Hopper is. He knows she’s in safe hands, but still. They still haven’t puzzled all the pieces together yet. Who knows what is still missing and awaits. 

“Where did they run off to?” Nancy asked upon entering. She was dressed in her old clothes from yesterday, freshly cleaned, and her brown locks tied back in a ponytail. 

“Actually that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Jonathan says, all business now. “They figured out something last night. Something about the lab and having a connection in all this.”

“The Hawkins Lab?” She gives him a strange look. “What does a research lab have to do with all this?”

He sighs. “I think it’s time to get you up to speed.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Strange.

The forty year old science teacher at Hawkins Middle school surely wasn’t expecting any kind of guest today. Nor someone so special like the woman before him. Dressed very nicely, hair done perfectly, and with a bright smile she shared with him why she’s here with much excitement.

“-and we’re making a newsletter, which we’ll send out monthly.” She continues as she hands him over a pamphlet that says: ‘The Indiana AV Club’. “It’ll showcase all the latest equipment, as well as how-to articles, which the kids write themselves.”

His face lights up as he reads. “Oh, that’s neat.”

“What we’re really trying to do here, Mr. Clarke–”

“Uh, please, call me Scott.”

“Scott.” She tests, her smile growing bigger. “What we’re trying to do here, Scott, is to connect kids from all over the state and give them the support and encouragement to pursue careers in technology. We feel these are the kinds of kids that are going to make Indiana proud.”

“I agree, yes.” He nods. “Completely.”

Hook.

“So, you know any kids you think might wanna participate?”

Line.

“Oh, I have a few in mind.”

Sinker.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin is this close to shoving his friend’s head into a wall. He swears, out of all his friends, both Mike and Lucas are constantly fighting for the title of ‘Most Hot Headed/Overexaggerator’. Will was too quiet to ever play peace-keeper, so naturally this role fell on him. But man… after knowing them both for so long, it was really hard to keep the ‘peace’ part of the role up.

“I just... I can’t believe she didn’t come back.” Mike repeated and paced around the basement once more.

“She’s gotta be close.” Dustin tries again to reassure. 

“She said it wasn’t safe. She just messed up the compasses because she wanted to protect us. She didn’t betray us–”

Dustin bites his lip. “Mike, calm down.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at her. I never should’ve done that.”

“Mike, this isn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, it’s Lucas’.”

“It wasn’t his fault, either.”

That got the Wheeler to stop moving around and give a stern glare. “It wasn’t his fault?”

“No.” Dustin said, standing his ground.

“So you’re saying he wasn’t way out of line?”

“Totally, but so were you!”

“What?” Mike scoffs.

“And so was Eleven.”

“Oh, give me a break!”

“No, Mike, you give me a break!” The Henderson jabbed his finger at him. “All three of you were being a bunch of little assholes. I was the only reasonable one. Shit, hate to admit it, but even fucking Steve Harrington was being reasonable. The bottom line is... you pushed first. And you know the rule. You draw first blood…”

Mike shakes his head and throws his hands in the air. “No! No way! I’m not shaking his hand.”

“You’re shaking his hand!” 

“No, I’m not.”

“This isn’t a discussion. This is the rule of law. Obey or be banished from the party. Do you wanna be banished?”

Mike crosses his arms and looks away. “No.” He whispers.

“Good.”

“Kids, that boy Steve’s here.” Karen yells from above, the boys perking up with a bit of hope. They waited (im)patiently for him to come down as he strolled in with a new layer of Fall clothes and a tired face.

“Well?” Mike asked, nervously.

“I’m sorry.” Steve said, making them frown. “I walked around those woods for six hours, and then I even waited to see if she would show up at my place. Nothing.” 

“Shit…” Dustin mutters.

“Well, thanks for looking.” Mike said, genuinely. 

Steve nods in reply, shifting his weight around on his throbbing feet before asking, “How’s Sinclair?”

“We were just about to go check.” Dustin answers first, moving around them both to grab his backpack.

“We are?” Mike asked, confused. 

“Yes, Mike. We’re doing this now. We’re going to get Lucas. And then we’re gonna find Eleven. Alright?” He sighs, before looking at the oldest teen. “Steve, thank you for looking, we’ll take it from here.”

Steve straightens out his posture immediately as the kid starts trying to leave without. “Hey, hey, hey–” He maneuvers in front of him, blocking him from the stairs. “This wasn’t a one time thing. I’m staying with you guys.”

“Dustin, come on, man, we talked about this.” Mike said, turning their roles around. His friend’s shoulder sagged and he muttered something under his breath. 

Steve takes a quiet inhale before addressing him. “Look, Henderson, I know you hate me, you have every right to hate me, but right now you need all the help you can get.” His jaw tightens. “Not to mention, whoever’s responsible for all this doesn’t mind getting their hands dirty. They’re not going to care that you guys are twelve year old boys. You need me, whether you like it or not.”

Dustin lets out a long, angry exhale as Mike locks his gaze with the older boy.

“Now, let’s go get Lucas, let’s find Eleven, find the gate, and pray that it leads to your sister and Will.” Steve finishes, and the curly haired kid exhales again.

“Fine.” He huffs.

“Good. We’ll take my car. Will go to Lucas’ and then I’ll take us to the woods. Capish?”

“Capish.” They say, as they follow him out of the basement. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will looked around the store wondering where they even began. His big doe eyes then turned to the teenager who pushed a shopping cart over to him. “What do we grab?”

“Whatever we can.” Steph says, grabbing a cart of her own with a smirk. “And obviously you don’t have to worry about the price.”

That got him to laugh as they migrated around the store, filling up with stuff they talked about. The teenager found herself starting with certain alcohol that she knew could be considered “flammable”. Some of the numbers were… extremely high and made her question people’s choices (And she thought the whiskey Steve and her drank at the Snow Ball was strong).

Thank god I never drank imported Vodka. She keeps filling her cart up, just as Will comes around the corner with something.

“Hey, hairspray’s flammable, right?” He asks, holding up a can.

“Uh, yeah. It is.”

He hums, taking the cap off and harmlessly spraying the air. “Huh. That’s probably not going to do much though.”

“Probably not.” She says, making him nod and was about to leave when an idea struck her. “Wait.” He stops. “I’m actually getting an idea. Whatever hairspray you can fit in that cart, do it.”

“You know how to build the trap?” He asked, hopeful.

“If I’m picturing this all out correctly, I know this is going to work. But we’re going to need a shit ton of stuff if it’s going to cover the whole place.”

“And where’s that place?”

“Remember that old building with the broken clock tower I took you to?” He nods. “I know that place like the back of my hand. If I’m picturing the trap right I think I know exactly how to set everything up.”

“And we’re going to need a lot?” 

“A hell lot.” She hopes her imagination won’t let her down on this one. She starts pushing her cart towards him and heads off for a new one while saying, “Keep grabbing everything flammable, I’m going to get some tools.”

“What kind of tools?” He asked, curiously.

“Basic tools. Hammer, screwdrivers, saw–”

“Saw?”

“Yeah. Saw.” 

“What’s the saw for?”

“‘Cause–” She turns around with a smirk. “It’s completely illegal, but a sawing off the front of a shotgun makes the impact more intense, right?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve stayed a few steps behind the boys as they knocked on the door and awaited their fate; Which seemed dreary when Lucas saw who it was. 

“What do you want?” He snapped, and it wasn’t until Dustin slapped Mike in the arm he finally got his answer.

“I drew first blood, so…” He holds out his hand, Lucas’ eyes scanning him head to toe for any signs of a lie. 

The Sinclair sighs, thinking it over. “Okay, I’ll shake. On one condition.” He crosses his arms and stands tall. “We forget the weirdo and go straight to the gate.”

“Then the deal’s off!” Mike scoffs, and turns around to leave.

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“No, no, not fine!” Dustin said, stopping Lucas from closing the door.

“Guys, seriously?” Steve said, blocking Mike from taking another step. “Stop acting like you’re six, and talk it out like your age.”

“Come on!” Dustin claps his hands together, tackling this head on. “Do you even remember what happened on the Bloodstone Pass?” He watches his friends stare in confusion and sighs. “We couldn’t agree on what path to take, so we split up the party and those trolls took us out one by one. And it all went to shit. And we were all disabled! So we stick together, no matter what!”

His little speech managed to knock some sense into them, and all seemed hopeful till…

“Yeah, I agree.” Lucas said, and gestured to everyone. “But this is the party, right here. The three of us.”

“El is one of us now.” Mike said, as he got an eye roll for a reply.

“Um, no, she’s not. Not even close! Never will be. She’s a liar, a traitor–”

“She was just trying to keep us safe! She didn’t mean to hurt you. It was an accident!”

He scoffs. “An accident?”

“All right, accident or not… admit it, it was a little awesome.” Dustin said, unintentionally digging a bigger hole in the ground for them.

Lucas blinks (with Steve face palming in the background). “Awesome?”

“Yeah, she threw you in the air with her mind!”

“I could have been killed!”

“Which is exactly why we need her. She’s a weapon!” Mike explains. “Do you seriously wanna fight the Demogorgon with your wrist rocket? That’s like R2-D2 going to fight Darth Vader. We’re no use to Will and Steph if we’re dead.”

Lucas shakes his head, clearly frustrated, clearly fed up. “If you two and Steve wanna waste your time looking for a traitor, go ahead, ’cause I’m not spending my time on her anymore. No way! I’m going to the gate. I’m gonna find them.”

And the door slams shut.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It took a bit to get up to Bloomington but they made it; That’s all that matters. Hopper parked his car on the gravel driveway, him and Joyce getting out and cautiously moving towards the front door of the residence. It took several knocks until a petite blonde woman answered. She seemed on her toes just like they were.

“Can I help you?” 

“Hi, we’re looking for Terry Ives. Does she live here?” Hopper asks.

Her brown eyes darted between them. “Who’s asking?”

“The Hawkins chief of police.” He flashes her his badge long enough to give her a good look.

“And… you want to talk to my sister?”

“Well, if your sister’s Terry Ives, then, yeah, we do.”

She frowns, looking a bit apologetic. “Okay, well, you can come in, but if you want Terry to tell you anything, you’re about five years too late.” She lets him and guides them to the living room. “Terry, you have some visitors.”

Joyce presence herself in front of the woman in the rocking chair, the similarities in their features were enough to tell the Byers that these two were definitely sisters. 

“Hello. My name’s Joyce Byers. Uh, this is Hopper.” She begins, the woman turning her distant gaze off the TV towards them. “We drove over from Hawkins. Um, you see, uh, my son… he’s been missing for almost a week now, and, um, we were wondering if we could talk to you about your daughter, Jane? If there’s anything that you could tell us about when she was taken…”

“What was your relationship with Dr. Brenner? You guys keep in touch?” Hopper asked, observing from the doorway carefully.

Joyce fumbles with trying to unfold the picture for a second. “This is, uh... this is him. This is Will. Uh, you may have seen him on... on the news. Uh…”

Hopper casts his gaze to the relative, confused/concerned. “What’s wrong with her?”

“I told you, you’re wasting your time.” She replies, sadly.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

The four shopping carts rolled inside with ease, the duo looking around the place, that long been abandoned in their world, that they found use for. Stephanie nods after a while, the trap she thought of earlier was now fully registered.

“Yep. This is the place.” She said, while slinging the guns off her shoulders and putting them to the side.

“Where do we set it up?” Will asked, still not picturing it like she is.

“Everywhere. Let’s leave no square inch untouched.” She locks eyes with him. “And then we’re going to practice, over and over so we don’t get caught in them. Alright?”

“Right.”

“Good. Let’s get everything out. There’s no telling when the Demogorgon will return.” They’re both running out of time. For their sake, their sanity, they have to find a way out soon or they’re done for. So, thus starts the grueling process of trap making.

Will made sure to listen carefully as she explained what needed to be where – where to pour the gasoline, where to stick the trip wire, where to hide, etc. And they did practice like she said, in one area that was a pool of alcohol and gasoline just below where the broken bell tower stood, she showed him where to step on the bricks in order to not get any liquid on them. It was hard, especially when he knows they’re going to be running instead of walking when the Demogorgon does show up, but damn it to hell! He will not mess this up. He’s going to stay calm and stick to the plan that he wholeheartedly believes is going to work. 

Will finds himself setting aside another Molotov cocktail, before looking over at his companion. She was in the zone trying to saw their shotguns in half, which is a very hefty task on hand. The silence was starting to get to him a bit though, and there was still a… lingering question that was bothering him and wanted to ask, but should he? Or was it safer to make something else up? He ponders as he grabs an empty bottle before deciding to just come out and say it. What’s the worst she can do? Say no?

“Hey, Steph?”

“Yeah?” She said, eyes still trained on what’s in her hands.

“I have to ask again, but…” Should he back out? Should he–

“What is it?”

Well, here goes nothing. He takes a deep, quiet breath and says, “What happened between you and Steve?” She immediately pauses her actions, making him shrink quickly, like he was flinching away from someone’s attack. “You don’t have to tell me, I know it’s a touchy–”

“It’s fine. Really.” She meets his gaze. “I think I probably should talk about it with someone. Especially after the whole… floating-mind game I was in. I saw… a lot of memories of him.”

He fiddles with his hands nervously, curiously. “So…”

Stephanie sighs, her face flashing with pain. “I don’t know. One day he just pretended he didn’t know me.”

He blinks. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes grow distant as she recalls everything. “I remember that day clearly. We would always meet up in the doorways at school, and he wasn’t there that day. Mind you, we were both getting older, more responsibilities were being added onto us; And it was around the same time Steve was really getting into sports, so I thought maybe he was talking to one of his coaches.”

Another sigh before continuing, “Eventually, I found him, ran up to him, and I noticed he looked a bit sad so I asked him if he was okay. He told me he didn’t know who I was.” She catches the boy starting to look as hurt as she was. “I thought at first, maybe he was upset at me over something, so I tried all day to ask him what was up, and when the school day ended he just told me he has no idea who I am and why I’m bothering him and… left. We’ve never spoken again after that. Our… ten years of friendship ended just like that.”

Well…

Jesus H. Christ.

Will had no idea how to respond to this.

“Wow. What a…” He shook his head. “What a douchebag.”

She chuckles dryly. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t always like that. He’s not like what he is now. Trust me.” Then there was a bit of anger in her next words. “I suspected his parents might have threatened him with something to break our friendship. But I don’t know. Could be wrong about that.”

Will gives her a confused look. “What do you mean by that?”

She frowns, but it wasn’t directed at the said teenager. “Let me tell you a bit about Steve. He comes from a line of… rich people. Generational wealth. And due to this they have certain standards. Standards that Steve has to follow to the T.”

He blinks again, thinking. “But…” Another head shake. “But Mike’s family is not like that. I mean I know they’re not as rich as Steve’s, but still.”

“Well, a lot has to do with how Mike’s parents were raised. Not to mention, even though it might not seem like it sometimes, Karen and Ted do love each other in some way. And they really love their kids, and want nothing but the best for them. Tough and nurturing, in a healthy way.” Steph’s frown deepens. “But as for Steve’s, that nurturing and toughness goes a bit differently. Not exactly healthy.”

“How so?” Will asked, on the edge but invested in this tale.

Steph gives it some thought on how she should move forward. She had really only one story that would make sense of it all (or at least it wasn’t as violent as some of the other ones). She sets her stuff down, giving him her full attention now.

“I might have mentioned it to Dustin, or you guys, how I met Steve. Right?” She asks, waiting to confirm.

“Yeah. You said it was school.”

“But I never told anyone the full story. Not even Dustin or my mom knows.” She bites her lip and adverts her eyes for a split second. “Not even Steve knows.”

He tilts his head. “How does that work?”

She takes a deep breath. “It was probably a few weeks before the school year ended, and my class was to make cards to celebrate Mother’s day that was coming up. I remember being really excited about it. I drew my card, school ended and now I had to wait to be picked up. My mom mentioned earlier she might run behind because of work, but no biggie, I didn’t mind waiting.”

She could still picture it, holding her card close and humming a tune to herself as she waited and waited outside in front of the entrance of the Elementary school (The good old days, she calls it).

Stephanie was fiddling with her own hands now as she continued, “Kids started leaving one-by-one, and soon as I was the only one left. Or so I thought. I… suddenly heard this arguing, it was very loud, very terrible sounding, and… curiously I went to check it out, and there he was. Him and his mom. And… she’s yelling at him, telling him how crappy the card was, and how it should’ve been better, or this what he should have done, etc. And–” She swallows, hands tightening together. “Steve’s on the verge of tears, and he’s trying to come up with an explanation for her, and he promises he’ll do better and… um…”

“What?” He says, a bit scared for what was next. Especially when he saw the haunting look on her face.

“She… slaps him. Right across the face. And it was one of those slaps you know it hurt just by the sound of it.” His eyes widened. “Then, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back to the car.” She sighs and shifts in her seat. “I was so shocked by it, ‘cause I never witnessed something like that before, so…”  She shakes her head with a small groan. “God. I think at first I… I befriended him because it was out of pity, but that soon went away quickly. We became two peas in the pod in just one day. Never, ever alone.”

“That’s…” He was lost for words. “That’s so awful– So wrong. W-Why would they think that’ll make things better?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“But…” His fingers clenched his pants legs like a nervous tick. “D-Did they do anything else? We’re they always like that?”

Stephanie’s face morphed into total sadness now. “Listen, there’s a lot of stories I can’t tell you about his parents. They’re not exactly… kid friendly, to put it lightly. But yeah, they’ve done a lot of that, and a hell lot more.”

“Jesus.”

“But that’s why we worked together so well, Will. We complimented each other. He had shitty parents, and I was dealing with a shitty dad. We both helped each other navigate around that.” And ain’t that the truth. “But, besides all that negative stuff, he was a great kid. Me? I was a quiet kid, like you. I kept to myself most of the time, but Steve helped me come out of my shell. As for Steve? I helped him live a little, I helped him have a life that his parents never wanted him to have.”

“T-Then they should be grateful!” He says, sitting up straighter, more lively in his seat. “Y-You befriended their son. You were always there for him.”

“Will–”

“You helped him. Why should they be so upset about all this?”

She gives him a pitiful look for his sweet little heart he had. “Because I wasn’t perfect.” Her throat suddenly felt like it wanted to close up. “I wasn’t rich, I was a wild card. I had a sad, workaholic mother who was trying to keep us afloat, and a father that gambling 24/7 to the point we almost went bankrupt. There were a lot of cons in their eyes compared to the pros, which is probably zero.”

Despite the reasons, Will still couldn’t understand. She did nothing wrong! They should be mad at her. “But you were their son’s friend. That shouldn’t matter.”

She smiles just a tad and says, “You’re so sweet. I wish more people in the world could be like you. That’s why…” How does she cheer him up? “You gotta marry someone who is as kind hearted as you. So the legacy lives on.”

He snorts (Bingo!). “You sound like my mom.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.” She smirks. “But… I’ll tell you something funny about Steve. Maybe you can use it against him since he’s dating Mike’s sister.”

“And what’s that?” He asks, skeptical. 

“Guess what his middle name is?”

“Mmm… I don’t know. What?”

She grins. “Steven Grant Harrington.”

“Steven Grant–” He gasps. “Captain America!”

“Yep.” Steph chuckles. “Captain America. I remember when Steve told me his name, I started laughing. He was confused and I told him the truth. At first he was a little mad, but when I explained who Captain America was he seemed cool with it.”

“That’s awesome.”

“If you ever want to tease him, just call him Grant.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely remember that.” He finds himself smiling too and picking back up the empty bottle to continue his work. “My name’s Jacob.”

She perks up. “Jacob?”

“Named after my mom’s father.”

“That’s sweet. I’m Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth?”

“My mom is a huge Elizabeth Taylor fan. I’m honestly surprised that wasn’t my first name.”

“Where does Stephanie come from?”

“Grandmother. At least that’s what she told me. But who knows? Knowing my mom… she got it off some cheesy magazine about cats.”

That seemed to do the trick for cheering him up because Will broke into a belly laugh that she hasn’t heard in a while. To her, besides “Separate Ways”, this was probably the best music she’s heard in a long time.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“This is weird without Lucas.” Dustin finally said after a long period of silence in the car. It felt weird, super weird not having all of his friends together at once. It already felt weird when Will disappeared, but now there’s no Lucas? Not much of a group anymore.

“He should’ve shaken my hand.” Mike said, just as Steve scolded him not to put his feet on his dashboard.

“He’s just jealous.”

Mike’s face morphed into confusion as he turned his whole body around to look in the backseat. “What are you talking about?” 

Dustin sighs. “Sometimes, your total obliviousness just blows my mind. He’s your best friend, right?”

“Yeah... I mean, I-I don’t know.”

“It’s fine. I get it. I didn’t start going to our school until the fourth grade.” He looks away, not wanting Mike to see the hurt in his eyes. Except Steve did. He caught his gaze in the rearview mirror and frowned. 

Damn it.

He forgot Steve knew the reason he didn’t go to public school right away thanks to his sister. 

He tries to act tough and tell him off. “I don’t need your pity Harrington, alright?” The tone made Steve break away and Mike give him the strangest look ever again.

Damn.

Damn this situation. 

Dustin sighs. “He had the advantage of living next door. But none of that matters. What matters is that he is your best friend.” He swallows. “And then this girl shows up and starts living in your basement, and all you ever want to do is pay attention to her.”

“That’s not true.” Mike reassures him. 

“Yes, it is. And you know it. And he knows it. But no one ever says anything until you both start punching and yelling at each other like goblins with intelligence scores of zero. Now everything’s weird.”

“He’s not my best friend.”

Dustin laughs. “Yeah, right.”

Mike sighs, reaching over to tap in the arm to get his attention. “I mean, he is, but so are you. And so is Will.”

“Can’t have more than one best friend.”

“Says who?”

“Says logic.”

“Well, I call bull on your logic, because you’re my best friend, too.”

Dustin notices his genuine expression and smiles, satisfied with the reply. “Okay.”

“Okay.” 

“Uh, hey, guys.” Steve interrupts, slowing the car down a little as the past pays a local grocery store. All eyes were on the front, spotting how the automatic doors were shattered and there were boxes of food laying around the parking lot filled with men in blue. “So… I’m assuming that might be…?”

Mike nods. “Uh... definitely. We’re going in the right direction then.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The sister, Becky, brought them to the kitchen table, offering them cigarettes and some water while promising to explain. “She was a part of some study in college.”

“MK Ultra?” Hopper asks, getting a nod.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She sighs. “Was, uh, started in the ’50s. By the time Terry got involved, it was supposed to be ramping down, but the drugs just got crazier. Messed her up good.”

“This was the CIA that ran this?”

Becky stared at for a second before a small smirk bestowed on her face. “You and Terry would’ve gotten along. ‘The Man’, with a big capital ‘M’.” Another sigh. “They’d pay... you know, a couple hundred bucks to people like my sister, give ’em drugs, psychedelics. LSD, mostly. And then they’d strip her naked and put her in these isolation tanks.”

“Isolation tanks?” Joyce asked after sparing a look with Hopper.

“Yeah.” She nods and stares explaining with her hands. “These big bathtubs, basically, filled with salt water, so you can float around in there. You lose any sense of, uh… sense and feel nothing, see nothing. They wanted to expand the boundaries of the mind. Real hippie crap. I... I mean, it’s not like they were forcing her to do any of this stuff. The thing is, though, is that she didn’t know she was pregnant at the time.”

“Jane.” Joyce whispers, getting another nod. She takes in a sharp inhale and asks, “Do you have any pictures of her?”

Becky paled and made sure they were both listening carefully. “I don’t think you guys understand. Terry miscarried in the third trimester.” Her words were like a knife to their heart, catching them both completely off guard.

“What?” Hopper said without realizing it at first.

“Come.” She says, standing up and making them follow. She takes them to a bedroom, a baby room, filled with a crib, toys, and anything else a newborn needs. “She keeps all of this up. Been doing it for 12 years.” She takes a seat, allowing them to walk around and observe. “Terry, uh, pretends like Jane is real, like she’s gonna come home someday. Says she’s special. Born with ‘abilities’.”

“Abilities?” Joyce asked, confused.

“You read any Stephen King?” Becky asks, surprising them again. She laughs. “You guys look scared, actually. I mean, it’s all make-believe.”

“What... what kind of abilities?”

“Telepathy, telekinesis… You know, shit you can do with your mind. That’s why the big, bad Man stole Jane away. Her baby’s a weapon, off fighting the commies.” She takes a long puff of her cigarette, frowning. “You know, the doctors all say it’s a coping mechanism. You know, to deal with the guilt.”

Joyce locks eyes with Hopper again before continuing, “Do you think there is any chance she could be telling the truth? Ab-About having had the kid.”

“There is no birth certificate, nothing from the hospital. Doctors and nurses all confirm that she miscarried.”

“Yeah, but that could’ve been covered up.” Hopper says, straightening up. “Right?”

Becky smirks again. “Like I said, you and Terry would’ve gotten along.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After Jonathan explained what Hopper had found to Nancy, sure enough, his mother’s hunch was right. The eldest Wheeler needed some answers, and wasn’t going home until she got them. So he took up his mother’s suggestion and decided to stock up on ammo, getting ready for whatever comes next. 

“Monster Hunting?” He teased, as they came out of the store with a few boxes. He was poking fun at her response to the clerk asking why they were buying so much, and could help but laugh.

Nancy cracks a smile as she pops the trunk. “You know, last week… I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve might like. It took me and Barb all weekend. It seemed like life or death, you know? And... and now–”

“You’re shopping for shotgun shells with Jonathan Byers.”

“Yeah.” She chuckles.

“What’s the weirdest part? Me or the ammo?”

She gives him a playful look and says, “You. It’s definitely you.” Then their little moment was immediately ruined when someone honked their horn and rolled their window down to shout:

“Hey, Nance! Can’t wait to see your movie.” 

The highschoolers laughed as they drove off quicker, stunning them both.

“What the hell was that?” Jonathan asked, as she shrugged. But then it hit her. “What?” She suddenly takes off. “Wait! Where are you going? Nancy!”

It didn’t take long for him to catch up, finding her staring up at the local theater sign. The movie that was playing was called: “ALL THE RIGHT MOVES”, and was followed by a very unpleasant word mixed into her name that was written in bright red spray paint. 

“Oh, Jesus.” He mutters, but before he could apply any comfort, she stormed off again. “Nancy!” He followed her again, this time down an alleyway where he saw all the douchebags of high school were standing around and giggling. 

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Nancy yells, getting their attention. 

Tommy, the one who had the spray paint can, takes center stage with a cocky look and attitude. “Well if isn’t the star of the show.” His eyes then trail to Jonathan. “And the devil himself. How we all doing?”

Nancy grits her teeth and smacks him across the face, the crowd ‘ooh-ing’ as he takes it like a champ. “What the fuck are you doing? Why would you write that?”

“‘Cause it’s the truth. You… have one fight with your Boyfriend and suddenly he’s not good enough for you, huh?”

“What?”

“What did you say to him? What was so bad that he suddenly isn’t showing up to school anymore? Or…” He jerks his thumb in Jonathan’s way. “How you just decided that the weirdo is better than the King? Come on.”

“Seriously?” Nancy scoffs. “You think I’m the reason that Steve’s not showing up at school? Unlike you, I’ve actually called him and even went to his house, to which he told me specifically that he was fine. Why hasn’t he been showing up? I don’t know! Maybe because he had to attend an old friend’s funeral yesterday?”

Carol snickers and laughs. “The nerd? Stephanie fucking Henderson? You really think those two were ever friends? He just felt sorry for how fucked up her family was and took pity.”

“Yeah.” Tommy says, grinning. “A drug addicted mother, a father arrested for illegal gambling; Two ‘fantastic’ people managed to fucked their own son over and give him all kinds of birth defects and diseases. I’m surprised your family gives them so much pity.”

“W-Wait…” Nancy pauses to try to wrap her head around what she had just heard. “Claudia…” What? “Ms. Henderson isn’t a drug addict.”

“Awe.” Carol pretends to pout. “Looks like Steve’s parents haven’t gotten close to you yet. What a shame.”

“His parents have a lot of dirt on a lot of people.” Tommy said in a sickening way. “Especially the Hendersons. There’s so much that this town doesn’t know about them, it’s shocking. Stephanie has a shit ton.” He chuckles. “God, the Harringtons can bury her to the center of the Earth with all the dirt they have on her.”

Then they all started laughing at the cruel joke it was, and Nancy was ready to go off when Jonathan took her by the arm and started stringing her away.

“Let’s go.” He says, calmly, but the bullies weren’t done yet.

“You know what, Byers? I’m actually kind of impressed.” Tommy says, trailing them. “I always took you for a queer, but I guess you’re just a screw up like your father.” He shoves him forward. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, that fucking house full of screw-ups. You know, we shouldn’t be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family.”

“Tommy, stop.” Nancy hisses, as he shoves Jonathan again.

“I mean, your mom– I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother.”

“Tommy! Shut up!”

“I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers, their family, it’s a disgrace to the entire–”

And that was the final straw as Jonathan turns around and sucker punches Tommy in the face. It took a brief second for him to recognize he got hit before all hell broke loose. So much so…

That this day ended with one of them in handcuffs.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The leaves crushed beneath their feets as they continue their trek along the train tracks, occasionally yelling the girl’s name. From where the trashed grocery store was, it laid directly near the forest that they’ve been wandering for a while now – staying in the direction they think she went. It shouldn’t be that hard then, right? Wrong. Going in one freaking direction didn’t seem that bad, but the tall trees didn’t seem to end any time soon. And what if she broke off? What if she went some other way? Then what? How many days will it take for them to comb the area until they find something? 

This all feels so… pointless. Steve admits in his thought. I mean, he probably combed at least nothing less than a quarter of forest last night, and he didn’t find anything! Nothing to point him in the right direction. And now, he and the boys actually had a lead and… nothing. Nothing at all. As much as the tiny voice in his head telling him to stop and go home, he knows Eleven’s the only way of finding their loved ones. 

And that is if she wants to help us after all this. He frowns, thinking about that. What if they find her and she blows them off? Then what? Do they just truly forget about her and move on? Nah… 

He knows that’s not the right answer either. But what if–

“Should we split up?” Mike asked, knocking the teenager back into reality.

“Absolutely not.” Steve immediately says, as they all slow down to talk. “Like I told you guys, whoever’s involved in this is not afraid to get their hands dirty.”

The kid sighs, remembering. “Yeah. You’re right. I forgot…”

“But what if we do?” Dustin said, shrugging.

Steve squares up and stands his ground quickly, prepared for an argument again. “Henderson–”

“No, seriously. What if we do? We can get it done quicker.”

“No. No splitting up.”

“We’ll get done–”

“I don’t care if it’ll get done quicker. We’re staying together. End of story.” Steve finishes, as he starts walking again alongside Mike.

“Then what do you expect us to do, Steve?” Dustin snaps, stopping them all once more.

“What?”

“You said it yourself, you checked the woods last night and didn’t find a thing! And that was just around the junkyard.”

“And your point being?”

“Yeah, man. What’s this about?” Mike asked, confused.

“This place is huge!” The curly haired boy yelled, throwing his arms out. “And you think just the three of us are going to cover it all today?”

Steve blinks, more puzzled by the question than the attitude. “Well… no. Of course not–”

“Then we should split up! Cover more ground.”

“Henderson–”

“Look, it’ll be easy. You continued this way, Mike goes left, I go right, and then–”

“Oh, my god– we are NOT splitting up!” Steve explodes, silencing him. “You can argue with me all you want, but it’s not going to happen. We are going to keep looking together, or you can march your butt straight back to the car and we’re done. Got it?!”

The boys stay quiet, Steve’s flushed face turning normal before walking away, Mike on his heels once more.

Dustin chuckles dryly under his breath. “You’re so useless…”

“What was that?” Steve perked up, slowing down again.

“You’re useless. Here I am having a solution to our problem, and you don’t want to take it.”

The eldest scoffed. “I am not useless. And only turned down your ‘solution’ because it’s too dangerous.”

“So what if it’s dangerous? This whole thing has been dangerous since the beginning!” The boy yells, throwing his hands in the air. “Will and Phanie taking a gun, a girl with real life superpowers, fake bodies, other worlds leaking into ours– this whole thing has been dangerous! So we might as well continue dipping our toes into it!”

Mike cuts in quickly after noticing the tension in the teenager’s form. “Dustin, I know you determined to find Stephanie, but maybe–”

“No, Mike! No ‘Maybes’! We should be taking risks at this point! I mean–” Dustin groans. “God!” He points at the oldest. “You’re so fucking stupid! I-I don’t know how or why my sister ever cared for you. I don’t know why she still cares for you! It’s so… fucking bizarre!”

“Dude…”

His response made Steve scoff again, trying to play it cool. “What are you even talking about? She doesn’t care about me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dustin said, hands on his hips to look stern. “Well… news flash Harrington, she does. Even after what you did, she still gave a damn about you.”

“I…” What is he going on about? “That’s… that’s not possible.”

“Well, here then!” He digs around into his pocket, and fiercely tosses something at him. “Is that enough proof for you?” 

Steve manages to catch it before it hits him in the chest. Expecting something completely different, of course that gold chain with a red pendant catches him off guard. A gift he gave to her many years ago for her birthday… one that she still had.

She… kept this? He was so surprised he didn’t notice Dustin moving past him, beckoning for his friend to follow. Mike hesitates for a second, feeling empathy towards the older teen before he ends up leaving with his head hung low. His thumb brushes over the initials, swallowing hard as his heart clenches at the memories.

“Oh, yeah?” He shouts, turning around in their direction bitterly. “I’m still going to look for Eleven, you shitheads! And you’re going to regret going off on your own!” He doesn’t know why he half expected them to stop and turn around, but it was enough to make him cuss and go another way.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce closed the car door a little more than she should have before covering her face with her trembling hands. This did… not go as planned as they thought.

“Hey…” Hopper interrupts her thoughts, softly. 

She sniffles. “What?”

“We’re gonna find him.”

“Yeah, like Terry found her daughter?”

He swallows, subtly, trying to keep it together – to be the strong one right now. “We’re close.”

She shakes her head. “B-But Tw-Twelve years? Twelve years she’s been looking for her and– oh god. Stephanie. W-We… we have to look for her too, and–”

“And then Jane shows up at Benny’s five nights ago, which means we’ve got a chance.” He inhales. “You know what I would give? For a chance? You know what I would give?”

“Hop–”

She was cut off by the sound of his walkie’s static, followed by Callahan’s voice. 

[ ‘Hey, Chief, you there? Hey, Chief?’ ]

He fishes it from his side, hitting the button. “Yeah, go ahead.”

[ ‘Yeah, a fight broke out here and–’ ]

Hopper bites his lip. “Cal, I don’t have time for this–”

[ ‘It’s Jonathan Byers.’ ]

Well that stopped him from hanging up. Him and Joyce both froze and looked at each other with confusion. 

[ ‘Uh, you haven’t seen Joyce, have you?’ ]

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After shouting her name for a while, Mike nervously decided to ask, “Don’t you think that was a bit harsh?”

“What?” Dustin glances at him. “Do you think it was?”

“Uh… yeah.” He shrugs. “A little.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Dude–” Mike stops them both. “Listen, I get it. You’re upset ‘cause he hurt your sister. But you don’t think it’s weird he’s helping us then?”

Dustin tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” How does he put this? “I mean, have you ever wondered why he stopped being friends with your sister? Like… did he have a reason for it?”

“Mike–” The warning starts.

“Here me out.” He holds his hands up. “What if he had to? What if he didn’t want to stop being friends but he had too? I mean, if he just broke the friendship because he hated her, then why is he here helping us? Have you ever thought of that?”

Well…

Of course not. 

His eyes widened at it, at the slim possibility that there may have been a reason for all this. But just as he says his friend’s name, Mike froze at a sound.

“Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“El!” Mike looks around, hopefully. “El!” 

But as the leaves kept rustling around, the sound getting closer, he had waited for the girl to come out from behind the trees and…

Totally not a pissed off Troy and James.

“Hey, there, Frogface.” Troy hissed, popping open his switchblade.

“Toothless.” James grinned maliciously. 

“Shit!” Dustin screams, hitting his friend in the arm to make him go. “Run, Mike! Run! Come on!”

The bullies take off after them yelling, “You’re dead, Wheeler. You’re dead, Henderson! DEAD!!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, back at the police station, Nancy was waiting impatiently (Both wanting to leave, and wanting the front desk lady take forever to make an ice pack).

“Do you think we’ll be out of here soon?” She finally asked.

“You, yes. Him, no. He assaulted a police officer.” Flo explained, her reply was unsatisfying.

“Well, how long are you gonna keep him?”

“You and your boyfriend have big plans, do you?”

Nancy shakes her head and laughs. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Flo gives her a look. “I think you better tell him that.”

“What?”

“Only love makes you that crazy, sweetheart.” Flo hands her the homemade ice pack. “And that damn stupid.”

When she leaves the words lingered in her head more than she thought they would have. She has a boyfriend for Christ’s sake! They shouldn’t be making her think too much about her and Jonathan’s relationship…

Right?

“Found some ice.” Nancy says, as she walks up to where he’s sitting – handcuffed to one of the officer’s desks. She smiles, trying to hide the thoughts as he locks eyes with her.

“Thanks.” He says, leaning into the ice pack as she holds up to his bruised side. It doesn’t take a genius to know that something was bothering her, prompting him to ask, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She reassures him, reassures herself. “Everything’s fine.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

“Everything okay?” Will asks, as he finishes loading the last of the ammo up when Stephanie reenters the building.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” She says, nodding. “Alright, the wire is set around the building. Whatever direction the Demogorgon comes from we’ll know. That should give us a good starting point towards a gate.”

“Right.” Just as he said that, their little decoy light flickered on and off rather quickly. They locked eyes with each other, the girl mouthing, ‘Be Ready.’

“I’m going to check a trap real quick.” Steph says the code word, before disappearing.

“Sounds good.” Will takes a deep breath, reminding himself to stay strong and not stray from their plan. We got this. We got this. It’s going to work, and we’re going home.

He turns away from the open space of the room, facing the wall. His eyes trail to the shotgun hidden by his feet, the light flickering again, telling him to start kneeling to the floor. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stick up, a low growl from somewhere behind him as he acts like he’s fixing the light to stay on. He felt the presence move closer and closer, he could hear the boney fingers cracking open, its face slowly doing the same. Just when he notices the shadow looming overing him, he shouts,

“STEPHANIE!”

The girl suddenly comes out of her hiding spot and slashes the nearest hand clean off. A shriek erupted from the beast, and just before it could retaliate, Will took a shot with the gun – officially starting their trap. Will took shot after shot, while Steph swung the axe into places she could get, ultimately backing the beast into some wiring, evidently knocking it over temporarily. 

“Let’s go!” She shouted, and they were off on a run… and soon was the Demogorgon. 

Just like they had practiced, they ran across the stepping stones with ease, heading for the stairs as the beast bathed itself in a concoction of liquid death. About a quarter of the way up, she swung the axe high and skillfully hacked some rope in half, her and Will covering their heads with their elbows to protect themselves from the raining shards of glass and nail from the tarp they put up. The Demogorgon shrills again and tries to navigate through the sharp storm.

Will takes a good look back at the girl and asks, “You ready?”

“Yep. Let’s finish this.” She replies, getting a nod and a flash of determination as they continue to run all the way to the top. 

The Demogorgon was met with Molotov cocktail after Molotov cocktail, courtesy of the Byers boy, bidding enough time for Steph to slip by to the other side of the tower without falling. With the rope in her hand, she signals the boy she’s done, and switches roles with him. Dropping the axe and taking the hand gun from her side and starts firing. Will takes this chance to move away, grabbing the other end of the rope and begin entangling it.

Their plan was to trip it over the edge, falling back below to the toxic pool – but I guess cutting off its hand seemed to fuel its rage as the tripping technique doesn’t seem to be effecting it like they hope. The Demogoron thrashed its good arm around, managing to nick Will in the bicep.

“Will!” Steph shouts, her worries making her loosen her grip. She almost gets sliced as well, having just enough to react and jump backwards. The rope slips from her hands, her body stumbling into the wall, the beast taking an opportunity to charge. She scramblings out of the way, running to the other corner to scoop up the shotgun they placed there, and fires away.

“Stephanie!” Will yells, scaredly. No. This wasn’t the plan. They need to get that thing to fall or they can’t finish it off. But how? Their tripping plan didn’t work? Come on, come on, come on! Think! What else?

His eyes frantically looked around, they had weapons, they had rope, what else? And that’s when he finally noticed it. 

The bell! He mentally gasps, getting an idea. “Stephanie!!” He shouts her name, and starts running to scoop up the discarded axe. “Get as close to the edge as you can!!”

Steph didn’t question it, knowing she didn’t have many options left in store. She starts aiming directly at the face, hoping her shots make it as she stands her ground. If she gets hurt by the Demogorgon, she gets hurt. Trusting her little partner in crime, she kept pelting it until she noticed where its footing was, and took another shot in its mouth. Then, using all the strength she could, she uses the butt of the gun to strike it, its heels dipping right over the edge–

Will lets out a yell of frustration as he swings the axe right into the rope that was holding the bell up. Snapping and dropping almost immediately, it manages to clip the Demogorgon, sending it free falling to the floor. It screams all the way down, the two of them meeting to look at their results. The pair watches as the beast tries clawing the broken bell of its lower half – splashing the alcohol and gasoline around, re-bathing itself in it.

Without muttering a word to one another, Stephanie digs out a lighter, switching it on; No hesitation as she lets it slip out of her fingers. The impact of the lighter caused the place to shake a little, the heat from the flames were so intense that she ended up shielding the boy’s face when it landed. 

Its scream turned up by a hundred as they made it down the stairs, carefully avoiding the flames until they came to a safe spot. Sure enough, the Demogorgon was definitely Barbequing now. They could smell the burnt flesh, its discolored blood spilling out, and becoming weaker and weaker, all as they watched with disgust on their faces.

Fill with unexplained rage, Stephanie, who had one last load in the chamber, takes a step forward. Then another… then another… then another, the flames itching to get her too. The Demogorgon’s hand flopped around on the ground in its poor attempts to get her, its mouth opening for one last weak scream–

She sticks the short barrel in the center of it, the shells doing its job as the trigger pops. 

Droplets doused her face, letting the gun fall along with its head, the creature officially not moving anymore.

Now they’re outside, the flames still could be seen through the murky stained glass window. The two of them just stared at it, dirty clothes and tired eyes, stomach grumbling from their worked up appetite. However, they weren’t done just yet.

“Just in case?” Will broke the ice first, looking at her with a blank expression that she returns.

“Just in case.” She repeats, before fishing out another lighter. “Care to do the honors?”

He takes it with his bruised hand, flickering it on and watching it for a second before throwing it at the foot of the building. The line of gasoline they poured around it erupted like fireworks, like…

Like it was their grand finale. A big old ‘Fuck You’ to this shitty place.

But despite the wave of emotions, the one of disgust, then nothingness… It soon ended with them laughing and crying of pure relief that they could finally breathe in a place like this.

•°•°•��•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve was this close to picking a fight with a freaking oak tree. He knew he shouldn’t get mad, I mean… Dustin did have a point about splitting up, but he knew he couldn’t risk that. He saw whomever these people were not afraid to get their hands dirty, and couldn’t risk anything happening to these kids but…

Jesus.

Dustin was really pissing him off. But he also wasn’t pissed off? The necklace he threw at him, the very one he gifted to the older Henderson all those years ago, the one he was for sure had been thrown in the trash at this point, was now in the palm of his hand, was fucking taunting him now?! I mean, Steve kept a box of things that he got on his and Steph’s adventures, but that was him. He thought after breaking her heart at school, he was sure that she would have trashed everything he’s given her over the years.

I guess he was wrong about that.

He rubbed his face with his hands, biting his lip as guilt started creeping back. It was guilt about their friendship, but there was also some that came from the boys he decided to freaking abandon moments ago.

Abandon. He just abandoned those kids because he was mad! Them being assholes or not, he should’ve been the grown up here and stood his ground despite if it meant potentially strangling Henderson. I mean what if something happens to them? How the hell would he explain that to their parents?

He completely stops, mentally slapping himself. “God. What the fuck am I thinking?”

Just as Steve was about to turn around and go looking, he heard something. He carefully looks around, starting to think he imagines it until he swears there was a person like shadow casting out from behind a nearby tree.

“Eleven?” He takes a hopeful small step forward. “I know that’s you. I can see your shadow.” That statement was enough to confirm it when the shadow moved slightly and the leaves rustled quietly. “Hey, can you come out? I just want to talk.”

But what did he expect? Just for her to come out and run into his arms? No. Of course not. However she was right there, just four steps ahead, and he’s not losing her this time.

“Listen, I’m not mad, okay? And I’m not just saying that so you can come out. I mean it. And…” How does he word this? “I don’t know why you chose to mess up the compass, you clearly had a reason, a reason I kind of agree with Wheeler, I think you wanted to protect us. Why? From? I don’t know, but I want to know. You have to tell me, you have to tell us.”

Please say something. Or move a bit so I know you’re acknowledging me. But neither of that happens, so he keeps going.

“I promise you, none of us are going to be angry. But you have to understand, time is of the essence right now, we have to find Stephanie, we have to find Will. So…” He knows his voice trembled at the end, but who cares. Maybe the honesty will help his case. “Please. Will you come out? Come out and talk to me? Please, Eleven?”

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Or in this case…

Screaming.

Steve’s head snapped in the direction of where he just came from, the familiarity of the screams made his stomach drop.

“Shit.” He mutters, looking one last time at the tree before taking off, hoping he isn’t too late for whatever reason they’re screaming for. Him running away was the missing chance of him seeing the girl’s gaze on him with a frightful face, wondering too what is happening to her friends.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The boys were running out of steam fast. It didn’t take long until their bullies had surrounded them, just off a trail that wraps around the whole quarry. With their stomach turning, and their hearts pounding in their ears, they scooped up any “weapons” they could find for defense.

“Stay back! Don’t come any closer!” Mike said, before chucking a rock at James.

The bully laughed at the terrible aim. “Nice throw, numbnuts.”

Dustin, in one last attempt to fight them off, comes full swinging at Troy with his stick – a complete fail too. Now, he was struggling to break free from his hold, as the switchblade was placed just under his chin, causing him to freak out.

“Let him go!” Mike yells, urgently. “Let him go!”

“Stay back, or I cut him!” Troy snaps.

“What do you want?!”

“I want to know how you did it!”

“How I did what?”

“I know you did something to me. Some nerdy science shit to make me do that!”

Mike almost rolled his eyes at the statement. “You mean piss your pants?”

Dustin, being Dustin, replies with, “Our friend has superpowers, and she squeezed your tiny bladder with her mind.”

“Shut up!” Troy grits his teeth, bringing the blade closer to his face. “I think I should save Toothless here a trip to the dentist. Help him lose the rest of his baby teeth.”

“Let him go.” Mike says again. “Let him go!”

“I’ll let him go, sure. But first... it’s your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“Wet yourself.”

“What?”

“Jump…” Troy’s eyes gesture to the open water below. “Or Toothless here gets an early trip to the dentist.”

“NO!!” Dustin shouts, shaking his head, trying to wiggle out of the hold. “Stop! No! No!”

“Or I’ll cut him right now!” He continues, the blade now resting right on his lips, causing his hostage to whimper.

Mike shook with anger, but he had no choice. He didn’t want to be the cause of his friend getting hurt. “All right, just hold on!” He says, looking between the bullies as he starts walking away. “Hold on!”

“Mike, don’t do it. I don’t need my baby teeth, Mike! Mike, seriously, don’t!” His friend pleas, but he’s not listening as he gets closer and closer to the edge, stopping just as his toes went past the line.

With his big brown eyes he looks down at the blue water and wonders what hitting that would feel like. The fall was what? 50 feet? 70? Maybe a hundred? Would he even survive this? Would he never see any of his friends or family again? He hears Dustin pleading with him once more, and almost takes a step back, a step back to maybe striking up a deal with Troy; But would he even listen? Maybe jumping really was the only option here, so…

“Troy, I don’t think this is a good idea, man.” James says, a bit scared at the idea, yet his friend blows him off.

“Mike, don’t!” Dustin screams, as Mike takes a deep breath and starts closing his eyes, bracing himself for whatever awaits him below.

“Dentist’s office opens in five–”

This is for Dustin.

“Four!”

I’m sorry everyone.

“Three!”

Say Hi to Will and Steph for me.

“Two!”

Dustin yells his name.

“One!”

Just as Mike lets his foot slip down for the descent he felt himself get yanked backwards by his collar…

Someone else using the momentum to take his place.

He had enough time to stop himself from tumbling to see him plummeting into the Quarry.

“STEVE!!” Mike yells at the top of his lungs, everyone else staring in shock before running over to the edge. Now, everyone present expected to find the teenager’s body crashing into the water, or hear some kind of scream on the way down, yet instead…

They see the teenager panicking at how he found himself stopping in mid air like he could suddenly fly.

“Holy shit.” Dustin said, blue orbs blown wide just seconds before Steve started floating back towards them.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” The Harrington spewed, limbs frantically moving. He continued his descent up and up, right over the four boys and landing semi-gently on the ground.

“Steve?!” Mike said, surprised (and relief blooming onto his face).

He shot straight up in the sitting position, his hair a mess, his eyes big like saucers, his heart pounding like a never ending drum. What the heck just happened? “How the hell did I…?”

And right on cue, like you could hear boss music play as Eleven was storming over, her red wig gone and dirtied face full of rage. She quickly blew James off his feet, and snapped Troy’s arm like a twig. The boy cried and El told them to go. The two bullies waste no time to leave, their tails tucked between their legs as Dustin eggs them on.

“Yeah, that’s right! You better run!” He yells, a shit eating grin blooming onto his face. “She’s our friend and she’s crazy! You come back here and she’ll kill you! You hear me? She’ll kill you, you sons of bitches. She’ll kill you!”

“You think she would?” Mike asked, half rhetorical, half serious. 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe? I was just saying that to scare them.”

“I wouldn’t let that get that far, alright?” Steve says, looking at them with amusement also. “You guys okay?”

“Okay?” Mike says, helping him get up. “Dude, you took my place!”

“Yeah, well, I would do it again if I–” He trails off, just as he notices Eleven’s knees buckling. “Hey– Hey! Eleven!” The boys rush over to the unconscious girl. “Eleven?”

“Is she okay? Why did she faint?”

“She might have overdid it. Eleven? Hey? Can you hear us? El?”

Eventually, She cracks her lids open slowly, finding all the boys hovering over her like she was made of glass. Glass. They shouldn’t be looking at her like that. Not after everything she’s done.

“El, are you okay? El?” Mike said, worriedly.

“Mike...” She sobbed, lip quivering. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?”

“The gate… I opened it. I’m the monster.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, El, you’re not the monster.”

“You saved us.” Steve said, with a smile. “You saved me. Do you understand? You saved me. Whatever you did in the past, that’s all said and done. All that matters now is what you do in the future. Okay?”

“Okay…” She sniffles and nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” His expression grows as he sits her up. “Come here.” 

She allows herself to grab a hold of him, burying her head in his chest for a sense of comfort. Steve keeps her close, relieved that she’s here, relieved that she’s fine, relieved that she saved their lives. Whatever she’d done is done, now they must move forward and save their loved ones. But for now, they were allowed this one sentimental moment. He soon felt Mike wrapped his arms around them, just before Dustin did it too. 

Steve locks eyes with him, Dustin sharing a small smile while mouthing the words ‘Thank You’. Probably for the fact that he swapped places with Mike (Or was there something else beside that?). Whatever it was, Steve copies his expression before ruffling the top of his hat before continuing with the hug.

Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, Lucas found himself hidden in a tree, watching with his binoculars as he spotted the suspiciously familiar vans behind the fence. It took him a moment to realize where he saw those vans. Realizing that he saw one parked outside his house when he left a while ago, he put two and two together right before this situation got worse. He watches as Men in uniform stroll out of the lab, guns in hand and pouring into the vehicles that made their way into the main roads.

His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, fuck.”

(TBC)

A/N: Only three more chapters to go for this season! This next one should be a "fun" ride for you all 😈

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

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[vaserlord]

Inspired by this post, because I agree with every word. So trigger warning just in case.

***

It was day… He had lost count, honestly. At the beginning, when he was first shoved here with those shiny new promises of care, he counted the days.

Two days since the treaty. Five since he started living with Voldemort. Seven since the Dark Lord said he was precious, cherished, something… a thing… to be protected.

One… one day since the obsession took its final turn. He had lost all other counts. Nothing mattered after day one.

Harry shifted, looking at his bare thighs. Again. At the faint bruises. Barely there. Even less pronounced than what Dudley used to give him. And yet… far more damaging. A brand. A permanent rot under his skin, under his flesh. Disgusting. He was disgusting.

What did he do? Was it the conversation that evening? Had he been too friendly? He was just trying to keep the peace, but… maybe Voldemort had seen it differently? Had he, unknowingly, given some kind of sign? An invitation? Was it his fault?

It definitely was. His body… he…

Harry shifted again, burying his warm, stinging eyes in the crook of his elbow. The all-encompassing wave of shame and guilt swallowed him whole.

Disgusting. He was disgusting.

He hated himself for all of it. For not resisting harder, for resigning in the end. For submitting to this… this process.

He hated himself.

A hot, burning feeling rose in his chest. It called for violence. For peeling the skin off his body. For shoving his hands into the ribcage and ripping that useless heart out. Would it stop the feeling? Would he finally be able to look at himself in a mirror again?

No… he thought. No. Even if the feelings disappeared - all the hatred and shame and this rot - even then, his body would still be tainted. Dirty. Used.

He had never truly belonged to himself. Always someone’s freak, someone’s savior, someone’s champion, someone’s liar… someone’s savior again. Always someone’s. But even then, he had his last reprieve: the safety of his own mind, of his own body. He could always rely on himself.

Now though… even that had been taken from him. With cold hands and words of obsession. With a hot mouth and coaxing. And force. And blindness to his pleas.

He felt broken. Like the long crack that had been there his whole life had finally reached the edge.

Many people - he thought - had experienced this. Many people who had been where he is now and still found the strength to move forward.

He wasn’t special. So many had it worse. So why… why did he so desperately want to cease? To cease to exist. Just disappear. Just not be.

This was too much. He hated, hated, hated himself. He didn’t want to be Harry anymore. He didn’t want to live in this body. He didn’t want to feel all this blackness and pain and anger. He was so angry with himself. So tired.

Why…

Why?Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywh—

Why him? Why was it always him?

He was the trouble. Uncle Vernon was right. He always caused trouble. Always made things worse. It was his fault. All of it was his fault. He was broken. A broken piece, always endangering people around him. Always ruining something. Always the cause. He was rot.

Now his body just matched what he truly was. Dirty. Disgusting. Trouble. Horcrux.

It would have been better if he had never been born, he thought. Would have saved so much suffering for others. It would have been better, he thought, if he didn’t exist anymore.

He ruined everything. And now, after this… he would never be able to look his friends in the eyes again, even if he saw them. He would never be able to look at himself and not see the handprints all over.

Yes. It would be better for everyone if he just disappeared. Maybe his friends would mourn him. But if they knew - if they knew how filthy he truly was - they wouldn’t care. He was sure of it. He finally returned to point zero.

Nobody will care.

They would know eventually. Everyone would know. And he couldn’t face them. He couldn’t let people look at him. No. It would be better for everyone. Better for himself.

He didn’t want to be.

He wasn’t anymore.

[ghost-bxrd]

Headcanons for hurt Fae!Dick Grayson?

What can hurt Dick? How does the family react when he is hurt, and they are possibly clueless how to help him or if he would be okay?

How does the manor and surroundings react when Dick is hurt, especially if he is badly hurt enough to be unaware what is happening? Or if it is one of the family's fault (unintentionally) that he got hurt?

Ksksks I totally expected this ask to come in at one point or another.

Alright, so with other creatures it’s kind of tricky.

The traditional fae can be hurt by iron, and while this particular version of fae!dick certainly doesn’t like it (at all) it’s more of a… strong allergic reaction than anything. And only if he’s exposed to it long enough.

What can truly hurt an other… well, that depends on the individual. On what they’re tied to, and what feeds their existence.

Some of the other beings live in the shadows, hiding.

For instance, my family used to tell a sort of story where a kind creature would wait for us at the very top of our house, and when it saw us coming home it would make sure it was safe for us to enter and then turn on the light if it was. If it wasn’t, the house would remain dark. Obviously I wanted to catch a glimpse of that “creature”, but stopped immediately when I was told that if I laid eyes on it, the creature would vanish forever.

So this particular other was dependent on remaining “unseen” to keep existing. Another kind would depend on having stories keep being told about them. Yet another creature would need to keep consuming a certain food to stay alive.

I headcanon that Fae!Dick would irrevocably tie himself to Wayne Manor, the surrounding lands, and its occupants to keep himself alive. Which in return makes him very powerful! But also very vulnerable.

He would quite literally feel family members getting hurt, depending on the severity of the injury. His connection to the manor and the lands would mean that any kind of environmental poisoning or damage going on inside the boundaries of his “domain” would directly affect Dick, ranging from mild discomfort to a sort of “withering”.

If what happens was severe enough to cause Dick to become temporarily unaware of his surroundings then nature would react accordingly. If he’s outside manor grounds during this instance, then it would be mostly animals responding to his pain and attacking anybody in close vicinity he isn’t tied to. (Animals with very strange and discordant features)

If he’s inside manor grounds… the entire place becomes ground zero for “magical” activity. Nobody would be able to get in or out. Any kind of “demolishing” going on would be stopped by some very angry plants and animals.

… unless the damage to the lands is too great. In that case Dick wouldn’t be able to do much, and everything that is/was dependent on his magic to grow would quickly atrophy. :(

The family probably wouldn’t really know how to properly deal with it the first time it happens. Obviously there’s the physical repercussions of Dick’s injury they’d have to deal, which usually has roots in something else so treating it wouldn’t be like treating the flu or a paper cut. They’d have to find whatever is wrong with the land (or one of the family) to help Dick.

Of course there’s also the possibility of an other creature hurting Dick. Or a very lucky criminal manages to land a hit (maybe even with an iron bullet). In that case Dick would be looking at a much longer recovery period than a regular human.

Fae!Dick is very difficult to injure, but he’s also very slow to heal.

[absolutebl]

Do you have any recent recommendations for JBL TaiwanBL and KBL? Been rewatching only bls from 2021 2022 and I feel like I'm out of the loop for the more recent ones.

Maybe something from this year or late last year?

Great JBL, TaBL, and KBL from 2023 & first half 2024

asker added:

Genre = mostly anything. But pls avoid homophobic trauma (like Jazz for Two).

Fair. Okay here we go!

2023 Recs!

I picked mostly 9s and 10s for you with a few 8s I felt specifically might suit your taste.

I Cannot Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai

Japan Netflix

This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.

Our Dating Sim

Korea Viki

This is a perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy. I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent.

I don't hand out 10/10 often (over 700 BLs watched, stil don't hvae 10 10/10s yet), these both got that from me in 2023. I consider both of them perfect BLs.

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho

Japan Gaga

This style of live action yaoi really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat than we usually get from Japan's HEA stuff, and that part is also very well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's great, but watching requires more patience than usual, even for Japan.

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku

Japan Gaga

A lonely salaryman (+ talented cook) gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. I was always gonna love this show if they stuck to the original yaoi (which is very dear to my heart). And they did! Paralleling it almost exactly. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me as the best of what Japan can do with softness (like Restart After Come Back Home). It’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, but that's OK with me. This is a very safe show for anyone to watch.

Jun and Jun

Korea Viki

A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. Others boys are sniffing around too. Operative word being "sniffing" as much of this romance involves smell. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching. With tons of rewatch potential (especially the last few eps), my only caution is this is for fans of the BL genre only, I don’t think it’ll work for anyone else.

Love Tractor

Korea iQIYI

Most of this country-set BL had me feral for the beautiful broken city boy and his hot young farmer. Hyung romance, puppy/cat pairing, open frankness meets jaded reserve, language play, water hose frolicking, only one bed, just all my favorite tropes. This show was basically a light-weight Restart After Come Back Home and I’m not even slightly mad about that. But (and you knew there was a “but” comg) something about the cringe of the final 2 eps and the impermanence of the ending (both of which highlight the fact that ultimately these 2 are I’ll-suited: too different and too far apart) left me with the feeling that they probably won’t last as a couple. However, in this case, rare for me, I forgive it this finale for my love of the rest.

The New Employee

Korea Viki

So good, SO QUEER, so soft, a near pitch perfect office BL with conflict derived from that setting. Also found family and a lesbian bestie. Sweet & innocent (and out) Seung Hyun scores the office internship of his dreams. On his first day at work he gets into it with his cool reserved (and also v gay) boss. As you do. Frankly? This is what I wanted from this new crop of office set KBLs ALL ALONG. Rainbow rice cakes forever! Directed by queer activist Kim Jho Gwang Soo (Just Friends?) partly set in the same neighbourhood as the To My Star house. Gotta love WATCHA (Semantic Error, Light on Me).

Unintentional Love Story

Korea iQIYI

OMG the plot, forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the eyes EMOTING at us in PAIN A boy who just lost his job due to faked corruption charges accidentally discovers his ex-boss's favorite artist, now a recluse. Evil manager offers him his job back if he can convince the artist to rejoin society. Instead, they fall in love. I found the artist a bit stiff and reserved but Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT - he carried this show (which I do not expect from the idol element). He was lumous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, just drown in the emoting abyss. The external conflict, social tension and pressure is complex and beautifully executed, plus Korea gave us legit side dishes (NOT a love triangle, hally-fucking-luya). I’m not sure on rewatchability, and it didn’t whip me into a verbal frenzy the way some KBLs do, but it still gets a solid 9/10 for those damn eyes alone.

A Breeze of Love

Korea iQIYI

Tsundere insomniac grump reunited with his sunshine jock ex (human sleeping pill) who now hates him. Basketball is also involved. While the simplicity of a reunion plot makes this more cohesive than most KBLs, it is a tad stiff and slow, never managing to lift itself out of "pretty and pretty enjoyable" - I liked it but I don’t think I’m going to remember much about it. 

Bon Appetit

Korea iQIYI

Romance between an office worker the man from his past next door who cooks well. It was very sweet and cute tale of food as love in the All the Liquors family of KBL. I’m not wild about it, I did enjoy it, I was happy to have it show up on my dash, but ultimately it will simply become one of the KBL crowd.

Why R U?

(Korean adaptation of Thai original) iQIYI

Korea decided to remake, of all possible Thai BLs, Why RU? And that is exactly what we got: a short form, clean & pretty, slightly confusing, uneven chemistry, all the same tropes KBL that kind of cliff-noted the original but with none of the heat or complex relationship dynamics. I just … what world is this? Because it is BOTH bizarro land, and EXACTLY what I expected. How do I rate it? In the end I have to go back to simple questions: did I like it, would I rewatch it, and would I recommend it? Yes. Probably. And probably not. What the actual hell?

It did, however win my best kiss of 2023 which is why it's on this list.

Stay By My Side

Taiwan Viki

I wanted to pick SOMETHING from Taiwan but my other two options both had lots of trauma in them. So I'm going with this one.

This show was an interesting take on the "ghost boyfriend" trope. About a boy who is tormented by hearing the dead, except when he is around one other boy - desperation+proximity = love. Unfortunately, the story was erratic and waffled about. While the leads turned in solid performances and the sappy domesticity was off the charts, it never really had the strength of the narrative convictions such a strong concept should have supplied. Highly rewatchable and enjoyable for that sappy domesticity but not a whole lot more. Still I always give extra credit for the diabetes-inducing sugar content and rewatch capacity.

And some suggestions from 2024

I'm only suggesting stuff that has finished it's run and isn't currently airing.

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

Japan Gaga

The promise of this show, younger cook courts older divorced office worker, should have been my catnip. I mean if someone pitched this to me in an elevator I would have downloaded it by the second storey. Unfortunately, it did not exactly fulfill that promise, not in the way I'd hoped. Did I still enjoy the ride, yes, but I feel just a little let down.

Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu

Japan Gaga

Kindly Ryota goes to uni and ends up rooming with his former childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend for, as it turns out, cute roommate reasons. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake, the framing is gorgeous and it is a stylish piece. As a friends to lovers cohabitation narrative this was a classic 2000s sweet yaoi. I enjoy that kind of tradition out of Japan even if it (and the characters) come off as a little slow as a result. Still, it's nice to get a traditional BL out of Japan that is satisfying, not slapstick, AND did not hurt us.

[tomwaterbabies]

Hi there 👋 I'm also here to ask more about the robot au. Does Donella know about Varian being Ulla's perfect robot? Or does Hugo tell her about Varian when he initially finds out? I'm curious as to whether Donella plans to take apart Varian to learn more of Ulla's secrets.

How does sleeping and eating work for Varian? Does rain or being immersed in water affect him? Does his energy come from magic or science? (Like is he solar powered, or is there a magic energy source keeping him working?)

What are Yong and Nuru's reactions to realizing Varian is a robot? After finding out he himself is a robot, does Varian ever try to communicate to other robots, even the rogue ones, to stop them or to test if they are as sentient as him? Are there other sentient robots besides Varian, or is he the most advanced? I imagine Varian not only dealing with an existential crisis but feeling out of place with both people and robots (not human enough to be human, but too advanced to be labeled another robot).

Also any other fun robot quirks of Varian?

Sorry if it's a lot of questions.

im spinning in circles throwing lots of confetti all around u if u dont like confetti imagine its something else its something u like

currently i am Undecided on if donella knows what varian is. either way she would definitely find out, and i think it would probably be from hugo IF she doesnt know already. im actually going kind of insane about the idea that she wants to take him apart so i'll be real with you that is now part of this au. thank u. hugo would not know about this specific goal donella has

because he is meant to perfectly integrate with humans, most things are normal for him! his system, while synthetic, still works Mostly like a biological human. water doesnt really have an effect on him BUT i think he was programmed with a "fear" of cold weather to avoid being in the snow too much because it can damage him a little bit (excessive cold has a negative effect with his system)

his energy source is partially magic and partially science! the reason he is sentient is he does, truly, have a soul. this isnt really fully understood by him at first (and the source of much angst, naturally), but the reality is the magic that ulla harnessed was the ability to give him life. as for the rest of his energy- he's mostly solar powered! it helps that he lives in corona, the light kingdom. out on the road he's usually able to still stay energized- but i can imagine times where all energy sources are getting depleted and he acts a little loopy (its fun)

yong and nuru definitely are, well, shocked? like it is an insane thing for anyone to witness. but despite their confusion they definitely still care deeply for him. yong in particular is inquisitive about varian's robot-ness, i think that can get a little uncomfortable for varian sometimes but he knows he means well

i think the gang would at some point try and find ways to communicate with the other robots via varian! im unsure currently if that would ever be successful, but it would absolutely be something they'd try considering how varian's existence is basically the Key to a lot of this. that being said, while they probably dont know for sure, i can say that varian is the only sentient robot- unless you count what ulla did to herself (uploading her consciousness/soul basically lol. scary AI mode)

"not human enough to be human, but too advanced to be labeled another robot" obsessed with this btw. yeah..... You Get It. in general varian's character desperately trying to find his place is a super important element to me- so it manifests in the robot au like this exactly. but being with yong, nuru, and hugo eventually leads to him finding kinship with them. which, i think, is pretty similar to the regular version of vat7k (where he doesnt find himself within corona OR his mother's extended family- but instead with this group of weird nerds). varian might always struggle with his lack of human traits and his humanity that other robots dont have- but his friends and family, who are notably weird and unique in their own ways too, certainly help get rid of those bad feelings and reassure him

as for fun robot quirks... oh most definitely. remind me later (<- im telling myself this too) to talk about them bc i already made this way too long and listing off Fun Robot Quirks Of Varian is gonna make this even longer ksjdfhsd

here's one for now: when he gives hugs he can sometimes cause someone's hair to go puffed up from the static electricity. this also includes kisses but how will they Ever find that out :)