#and i made my ST panic so much lol

[hunter-slime-660]

SO FIRST OF ALL

This is Alex

She's my main VTM oc :))

She's a Malkavian and i love her TO DEATH!!!!

So, like all Malkavians she has mental illnesses!! But since I wasn't sure what to give her I basically made a concoction of them and then bestowed them upon her :))

She has Stendhal's syndrome, auditory hallucinations, and misophonia :))

ALSO she's so funny!!! Mostly because of her relationship with her sire.

They're like... a funcle and an edgy teen!

Stefano (her sire) is like... a malkfish, BUT LIKE!! ON PURPOSE!!!! He ACTS like a Malkfish because he thinks its funny!!! But in reality he's like, this evil mastermind, who has this rivalry with the domain's sheriff and like, he has so little humanity fr (my st wont let me see his character sheet tho so idk exactly)

And like, in public Alex acts as if she HATES HIM, she's like "UGHHHH you're NOT my sire, i REFUSE to acknowledge you!!! i REGRET being your childe!" But like, in private? She's gossiping with him, she jokes with him and helps him prank the sheriff and yeah, she cares about him.

OH AND HER EMBRACE!!!! Cuz like, she was asked if she wanted to be embraced!

Basically her father was investigating these murders right? Except they were murders made by this one nosferatu and he was NOT happy to have him on his tail. So he decided to break in to his home and kill Alex as a warning. EXCEPT he was being FOLLOWED by STEFANO, who was sent by the prince to kill the nos cuz he was breaking the masquerade or something. So he didn't kill Alex because Stefano took the opportunity to kill him instead. Then he embraced her.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying. 

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer. 

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm. 

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant. 

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines. 

John’s icon dims. 

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to. 

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you. 

He tried to call as often as he could. 

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down. 

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic. 

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” 

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?” 

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening. 

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind. 

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?” 

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work. 

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth. 

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together. 

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad? 

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears. 

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.” 

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted? 

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him. 

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind. 

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with. 

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present. 

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…” 

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear. 

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?” 

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring. 

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts. 

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor. 

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. 

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.” 

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin. 

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing. 

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?” 

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation. 

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.” 

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords. 

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else. 

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences. 

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips. 

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends. 

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute. 

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later. 

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?” 

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?” 

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name. 

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed. 

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click. 

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms. 

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat. 

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening. 

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh. 

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.” 

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod. 

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.” 

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room. 

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.” 

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight. 

You steel yourself and raise the box. 

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair. 

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully. 

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm. 

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead. 

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders. 

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed. 

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship. 

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!” 

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly. 

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.” 

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? 

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it. 

Pregnant. 

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly. 

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts. 

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss. 

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold. 

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again. 

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.” 

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.” 

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.” 

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.” 

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second. 

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.” 

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child. 

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.” 

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.” 

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave. 

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

TAGS:

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[campbyler]

Take! Me! Down!

Into ur paradise

Don’t! Be! Scared!

Cause im ur body tyyyype

another chapter another banger playlist guys!! and it’s not just because of demi 🙄 (or it is).

anyway. i was so excited for this one! the games made so nervous. i remember wasn’t so excited about all the sports games at summer camp i somehow i Was good at them (plus i was short and light so i was easy to be dragged 😭😭😭) But i genuinely would like to try to play the inner tube game even though i know. i would definitely break one of my limbs there.

as a fellow yellow cabin member im so so happy that yellow cabin won but i really want to blue cabin to take a top three spot next time. mike really tried to when he wasn’t distracted by will’s arms. and lips. and eyes. anyway.

i fully giggled when i saw st references (“u didn’t have too” and green paint on mikes face) but i fully laughed when i saw

so insane for u andi.

ofc boys in this chapter!! “i know u”!!! kisses for luck (which worked btw!)!! mikes will panic™ during games and ice cream scene and like in general. he’s so down bad 😭😭

im so sorry that work is kicking ur ass andi, hope u can kick it it ass too someday 💔 but thank u for the another excellent chapter u killed it.

someone already mentioned that and i fully agree that u all have ur distinctive writing style but every character so smoothly flows into the next one. ur really incredibly talented ♥️

and to finish

Just! Sometimes!

That we wanna try

Cause u! And! I!

We’re cruel for the summer 🍒

alya!! hello!! :)

ahhh thank you so so much!! i'm glad you enjoyed it :) i based the games on an all school event at the university i attended, and i (unfortunately) never had the guts to play the inner tube game. literally was scared for my life.

HAHAHAHA that little excerpt is one of my favorite lines in the chapter. idk why but i just think it's funny :)

mike's will panic in this chapter is something that needs to be studied. he's over here doing cartwheels in his mind trying to act like he's not down absolutely horrendous for will.

work is still being Work but thank you! :)

and ah tysm!!! we've tried very hard to make sure that the story feels cohesive and the characters are consistent from chapter to chapter, so i'm glad it's reading that way too lol <3

[waterparksdrama]

ok track by track review of Intellectual Property. GO!

as you wish anon. be warned this is literally like one of maybe 4 times i've listened to this album in full again

st*rfucker - a bit too saccharine on first listen but it has better replay value as time goes on. the beginning of the shoehorned jesus lyrics and the continuation of limo imagery to represent fame which is actually fitting admittedly bc just like a limo that is supposed to represent glamour and celebrity living, they are just as widespread and accessible as him and aren't really that glamorous at all. also this is me saying again wow he complains a lot about fame for someone who isn't really that famous. i still hate the cutoff at the end bc. cmon man. 7/10

real super dark - ok i did like the gilbert gottfried inspired melody i think that's fun actually. the song lyrics? uhhhhhh. just more complaining. if you have listened to any of the albums since fandom you are not missing much there other than the otto serial killer jokes he has inserted here? which is a choice i guess. instrumental is great tho. i feel incredibly stupid listening to a lot of the other parts of the song tho. 7/10

funeral grey - god i can't bear listening to this one on my own i'm sorry. live it's fine, but the studio recording i would rather kill myself than listen to again. IT'S SO ANNOYING. the terrible overenunciated vocals. awsten's attempt at humor by writing these wattpad fic lyrics that make me cringe to my core because i know there's a part of him being genuine. the one direction ripoff hook because he managed to get one of 1d's actual songwriters to help write the track. the only saving grace is the ending but at that point it's too late for any redemption. 2/10

brainwashed - ironically this was written with the 1d guy again and. i'm actually fine with this one LOL. it's simple and lowkey so it's considerably less annoying than funeral grey. considering awsten said the lyrics on this album were hypersexual, but it's 2023 so this is fairly tame, it just makes me wonder how much he has repressed in his psyche. 6/10

2 best friends - ok now we're back to simple annoying. if you tune out the lyrics enough, it sounds like disney channel filler music. but it's actually about ~~sExxxx~~ hahahahaha everything about this album so far is like reading fanfics clearly written by middle schoolers. awsten's sad about his situationship so he goes out with his 2 best friends to forget but it doesn't work :( but he could just fuck his friends bc it wouldn't hurt to try at this point. hey what if this was what the song was actually about that because in travis' insane songfic he made jawn and awsten hook up during this chapter #neverforget #riptravisficeventhoughmebitchingontumblrmadehimkillit 4/10

end of the water (feel) - hearing awsten try to hit those high notes reminded me of people saying brendon straining on his high notes on the last panic tour was like hearing a dog that needed to be shot out back for its own good. this is very obviously a charlie puth ripoff to the t because not only does he hit high notes that no man should ever reach, but i'm pretty sure the verse instrumentals rip off "light switch" by charlie. anyways more of "ughhhhh i'm not getting a text backkkkkk" that makes me want to throw awsten's phone into the pacific. i still don't know why kurtis conner is here and how this is supposed to relate to any of this at all. also actually now that i'm crossing checking the genius pages for these, the descriptions for these songs make them sound much better than they actually are lol. 3/10

self-sabotage - this one is mid on it's own but funny because i remember the amount of twitter discourse this song has spawned. "awsten's being toxic and misogynistic" did we not listen to some of the songs off fandom "awsten has bpd" what if he just sucks sometimes. the memories of this are more memorable than the song itself. 5/10

ritual - remember when i found out the soundbyte at the beginning was from an aids psa. good times. fine song other than the shoehorned soundbyte. the entire song is just a repetition of the verses and chorus like a ~~ritual~~ spooky! i like the flair vincente void adds with his screams i feel like this feature makes more sense because it's a song about protecting yourself from the doctrines of religion that harmed you when you were growing up and apparently vincente has known awsten since he was 13???? only thing i hate is the corpse ripoff ending so much so that i have a personal version where i edited that out. 8/10

fuck about it - BORINGGGGGG OH MY GODD. if you've heard one blackbear feature, congrats you've heard them all because they all sound the same and blackbear adds no energy whatsoever. he made a bayside instrumental sound boring you really can't underestimate him. anyways back to the song itself; the situationship has dissolved into pure sex and disinterest and annoyance outside of that and with the way awsten sounds like he plans having hate sex, i don't think he's ever had hate sex before. there's the ending synth i think is fun and that's the only reason this gets a point at all. 1/10

closer - it's a sweet song but um. haven't we heard this in a way before? *cough cough 21 questions* i think this is the closest (lol) parx comes to at a return to pre-fandom form, but when i listen to the chords too much i'm just like "did he lowkey rip off that one smashing pumpkins song". anyways it's just about needing to be closer to someone or ending the relationship completely. simple but effective but not nearly as effective as 21 questions for me sorry. 7/10

a night out on earth - ok i had physical tickets to the last tour bc i won them on idobi so i was like "THIS SONG BETTER BE AT LEAST DECENT BC I STILL HANG UP THE TICKET WITH THIS NAME" and it was at the least. it's like. a good waterparks song, but i feel like i've heard it already? my mind goes back to see you in the future but for these i can't tell who's ripping off who more lol. yeah i feel like other than some interesting production here and there it's a rehash of shit we already heard before. shoehorned religious lyric. fake ass band guys. "i turn my agony into songs and people only like when i'm hurt". "i've been dead since 2016" (part two). "i'm evil now. idgaf. wat ever."

and then i think the part that makes me go awwww but also confuses me is the im a natural blue radio interview snippet? like why does this all tie in together now. geoff's not even here bro how is this the only release where otto's the only one namedropped when awsten hasn't even named dropped him until last album. 80% the album is about some random relationship how is this supposed to tie into all of these.

idk i feel like i've just had this on my mind when when of my mutuals made their own analysis on awsten's mindsets towards life and said how he uses fear as motivation but his perfectionism keeps him from using failure as an editor and how this song was the peak example of this; the rehash of the same ideas over and over because despite his stubbornness, despite "ultimately -not- giving in to the perception that you’re worth ‘Demonizing'", he never confronts the problem for real, just compartmentalizes the problem away and doesn't truly overcome the root of his problems. that's what i feel like manifests in this album for me to be put off by it at its core. nothing ever changes, he just finds a new situation to complain at. maybe that's also why his fans never change even as new ones come though. maybe that's why we also stay stagnant in this with him.

again i get it, he's a public figure; if he did dive too deep into this and didn't choose to generalize the lyrics for his own sake, he would probably end up incriminating himself way too much and have a hard time performing some of these songs. but i can't help but wonder. if he's truly getting over a mental obstacle like that, or keeps himself so set on the future that he ignores the problems he never solved. like he always does. like he always seems to be doomed to. anyways, 7/10 song.

all in all, it's an album that tries to reach a concept of coming to terms with your sexuality and religious trauma all entwined in fame but in reality it's mostly just about a sucky situationship and awsten complaining again while putting in random religious references sometimes and the beginning and ending are about fame. my hot takes are: tennis imagery = gay sex, there's not enough of a distinction between "soulsucker" and awsten to make "album lore" when the overarching concept of parx's discography is "awsten's life sucks", and darth vader is luke's father. - iz

[pebblysand]

WELCOME BACK TO THE PAGE PALS PROJECT! AS A REMINDER, THE "PAGE PALS" PROJECT IS A GROUP RE-READ OF CASTLES. FOR MORE INFORMATION, PLEASE READ THIS POST HERE.

THIS WEEK, WE'RE DOING CHAPTER 2. BELOW, YOU'LL FIND MY THOUGHTS AS A CONVERSATION STARTER. FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ASKS IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS/THOUGHTS, AND TO JOIN OUR DISCORD SERVER FOR FURTHER DISCUSSION.

HANDY LINKS/INFO:

chapter: ii. out of ash (ashes twirl)

wordcount: 10, 476

playlist: notes here

castles FAQ: here

.

g e n e r a l t h o u g h t s:

for a very long time, this chapter used to be my favourite, and i still hold it in very high regard. i don't know what it is about it, it just feels like ✨vibes✨. it's both incredibly funny at times, and incredibly sad, and i feel like it really exhibits that awkward post-war happy/sad balance that is so important to castles. even if it's no longer my favourite cause i'm not quite sure which is my favourite anymore, i still think chapter 2 has some of my best writing in this fic. i'll go through a few chosen bits below but i feel like it has that general sense of messiness and melancholy that i really like in the early days of this story.

just like with chapter 1, you might notice a few changes i've made along the way, depending on when you read it last. again, i don't think it's anything major but if you do notice, you'll see that i didn't actually delete anything, just moved things around a bit. i think it flows better that way. i also added some stuff - i'm curious to see if you'll spot it. let me know!

having said that, omg, i'd forgot how SLOW the pacing is in this chapter. don't get me wrong, i think it needs to be slow for the purposes of telling the story, but it's very much like: this is them leaving the hotel, this is them having breakfast, this is them testifying - it is very step by step lol. i worry about my pacing in the later chapters, sometimes, but i clearly forgot about this one lol.

g i n n y:

Generally, reading this just this morning, I couldn't help but feel this raw sense of panic in Ginny, throughout this chapter. I think obviously, it's something that only really makes sense and becomes apparent on re-read, but there's this way you really feel how fucking terrified she is that Harry will find out. I hate to say this, but the way she acts with him, that summer, is almost reminiscent of her "relationship" with Amycus, actually. She is watching his every move, everything he says, everything she says, trying to make sure he doesn't find out. And, I don't think the pretending and the lying comes easy to her, I think it basically tears her apart, but those are skills that she "learnt" with Amycus. Being cued into his every emotion, expertly toying that line between saying too much and too little. She is almost manipulating him, into thinking they have this connection, and that them not talking is the Right thing for them, and it's not really her fault, it's how fear has wired her to function, but I find it chilling.

h i g h l i g h t s:

A year later, roses bloom once again in the gardens of Ottery St Catchpole and Harry’s still holding her. Some things in life never change, he muses, although, of course, everything else has changed. They’ve both fought in a war that should never have been theirs and one of her brothers has died, leaving the start of the summer to mend itself without them, trapped in a combative attempt to shovel the little hope it has left down their throats. When Harry caresses Ginny’s skin, the summer of ‘98, she’s naked next to him, the both of them tucked in her small, twin bed at The Burrow. They try to be quiet (always, despite the silencing charms they cast) but they each have a side, now, an oddly domestic habit, and after they have sex, Harry often lies with her body wrapped around him, so close that he’s never quite sure where her limbs start and where his end. Her bed’s pushed up against her window - along the skin of his left arm, he feels the morning dew build as the night chill leaves the air; it trickles down the single-glazed glass. They watch the sun rise together - early mornings and milky skies.

I LOVE THIS PARAGRAPH SO MUCH. idk, jokes aside, i think it's one of my favourite things i've ever written. there's a flow to it i really like and i adore the end of "early mornings and milky skies". and i think it's the beginning of this motif that sort of comes back in chapter 17 where the two of them are always touching, comfortable in bed. the chill of early summer mornings and OH I LOVE IT.

'I'm not a Healer, Harry.'

so, this is actually a line i added in reaction to a) the people in my comments being mad that ginny wasn't weeding secrets out of harry and that being "ooc", and b) a conversation i later had with @btelling. i think there's this misconception in fandom about ginny being a "healer". this idea that she's almost harry's therapist after the war, the only one that can get him talking, etc. and i think firstly, there's very little evidence of that in canon. ginny asks for explanations, often, but she very rarely ever gets them. and secondly, there's this general view of women as healers in general, tending to "sick" men and making them better, which i don't particularly enjoy. so, i guess that was me reacting to all of this.

They barely swallow any food. For the other two’s sakes, Harry tries to hide the knot in his stomach, can tell that Hermione is anxious enough for the three of them - she keeps tapping an annoying rhythm against the table with the tips of her fingers, doesn’t even seem to realise she’s doing it. Her make-up is minimal, the varnish on her nails a plain but shiny transparent. His mind drifts back to Ginny again, how she always painted her nails in bright colours in school, reds and oranges, and golds, performed complicated charm work on them so that it would stick. ‘If I don’t, it always chips with Quidditch.’

i noticed this on a previous re-read but, i don't think i wrote this intentionally but i love the way harry is so infatuated with ginny in this. like, i think this is one of the moments where the fact that he totally idealises her and is very teenage-infatuated-crazy-about-a-girl really shines through. he literally looks at hermione's nails and is like: oh and by the way GINNY does her nails like this. it's so silly but it really shows how obsessed he is with her, but also how shallow it kind of is. he thinks it's deep, because when you're that age you think you're so deep, but it's actually not.

‘When we get there, it’ll be like the craziest circus you’ve ever been to,’ he speaks, quick, before he runs out of words. There is an urgency to the things that he needs to tell them both, ones that they don’t necessarily want to hear. ‘It’ll be dozens and dozens of people standing in a crowd, clapping and screaming, and wanting a piece of you. They’ll want to thank you, insult you, ask you questions, tell you personal stuff about themselves. They don’t mean anything bad by it, they just don’t really realise you’re a person. The press will be there, too, and they will be flashing their cameras just about five inches from your face to try and get a good shot,’ he adds, raising his hand close to his own cheek, showing them the distance. ‘They’ll want to touch you, have you sign stuff, and they’ll keep talking at you from the moment you step out of that fireplace to the moment you get into the lift. We’ll have an escort of Aurors to try and hold them back but I honestly doubt that they’ll be able to do much. It’ll feel like you’re in the longest tunnel you’ve ever been through and you can’t see the exit. At least, wear that scarf over your head, it’ll hide your face and your eyes from the cameras, protect you a bit. Ron, you can use the hood at the back of your robes.’

i think honestly, this is one of my favourite harry moments in the whole fic. i can't possibly tell you how much time i spent on this paragraph, back then. i see it as one of those post-war moments where harry actually does start growing into his own skin and also where you start being faced with the reality of the post-war world. there's this sort of "bubble," i think, throughout chapters 1&2 where they're all very removed from the outside and inside their little burrow bubble, and that obviously bursts big time, with the commission. there's something very brutal about the way harry speaks that day, and i think it really fits.

‘Why were we never kids?’

ah, another castles classic line people quote all the time. yuuup. 💔

That evening, the both of them eat Pad Thai takeaway and sit on the floor in front of the muted hotel telly. They laugh at funny Hogwarts stories of Romilda Vane and crazy things that Harry remembers Luna saying. They drain a few cans of bitter and wait for Ron to come home.

i've always loved this moment loads because it's 1) harry-and-hermione-my-babies!!!! but also 2) it has these trio-codependency vibes that are very present in the early chapters of feeling lost when the three of them aren't together. the way they "wait for Ron to come home" breaks my little heart for them.

Love in its million different forms, the way Dumbledore preached it. Harry loves Hermione the way he loves Ron, like the boy who introduced him to chocolate frogs and the girl who cried in the loo and faced a troll.

again, trio vibes. love, love, love.

l a s t l y:

okay, so i love, love, love the rest of this chapter but also i'm having a hard time articulating precise thoughts so i'll leave it at that for now. please do not hesitate to send me asks if there's anything else you'd like me to comment on, though. very excited to hear your thoughts.

[andromedastarrs]

Trained For Sin - Clashing Waves

Hello everyone! This is my very first fan-fiction piece lol, and I'm slightly nervous to post. Trained For Sin is my work-in-progress enemies to friends to lovers piece involving Abby Anderson (post TLOU pt.2) and you, the reader.

Now...info on the reader. The reader is mentioned as Y/N throughout this story, but I do have a specific image for this Y/N in mind.

The reader is an AFAB non-binary that is masculine presenting - aside from that description, the character's interpretation is up to you as there are no physical descriptors (as of yet). There is no physical description but we DO get a description regarding the reader's identity, so if ur not into that keep it in mind. (More on this in my Blog Center post.)

Anywho, I do have requests open, and so if you want stuff from me regarding a specific type of reader, feel free to ask!! But in this specific piece this reader will stay as they are. :3

wc: ~2.1k

warnings: swearing.

summary: Working in the summer heat on the Santa Catalina shores, you catch a glimpse of something in the distant waves. Who or what could it be?

You pulled the rope over the box swiftly, making sure that it covered the lid twice this time. You wiped the sweat off your brow and tied a knot harshly, reminiscing about last week’s events at a meeting Cheryl held regarding an “anonymous” tip. Apparently, the last time you were assigned to pack containers for the boats, a few of the boxes had fallen on their side, causing good supplies to spill overboard during a storm. The tip, coming from one of the soldiers on the boat, bitched about the lids being loose, reasoning that your knots were lazily pulled together.

You were alone near the shore, packing up box after box under the heat of the sun. You always made sure to help with whatever you could, but you often wondered if your work ever meant anything to the people around you. Having the male soldiers side-eyeing you as you walked by either felt euphoric or absolutely gut-wrenching. You knew that they were intimidated by your presence, their feelings towards you either stemming from respect...or jealousy, at least in your case. 

They said that you were "doing too much” when you offered to help around by taking on extra routes and check-ups, or when you offered to teach younger soldiers how to handle weapons and fight. They also said that you were "trying too hard to be a man”.

That was really the only statement that bothered you. 

Why couldn’t you just be you without constantly being told otherwise. You didn’t want to be anyone or anything, so why did it matter what you did or looked like? Of course, you didn’t present yourself as girly, you never wanted to make an effort to look that way since that sort of stuff never called to you to begin with. But you didn’t want to be called a man either, that wasn’t right. 

You couldn’t help but let out a hefty groan. Placing both elbows on one of the tied boxes, you laid your hands flat to prop your face down onto them. It was probably the combination of sweat, heat, sticky clothes, messy hair, and your messy brain making you feel so burnt out and annoyed as hell. 

“Hey Y/N…do you see that?”

You turned up, slightly caught by surprise at the young boy standing next to you. He was holding one of his favorite dinosaur plushies with one arm, while pointing the other towards the sea. He must have sneaked up on you while you were on the box, probably thinking that you were playing hide-n-seek without him.

“Jesus Mark, don’t sneak up on me like that…you’ll give me a heart attack one day…”

You turned your body in the direction that he was pointing to, squinting your eyes and holding one hand up to block the sunlight from affecting your view. 

What the hell is that?

You put your hand down, slight panic setting in. Almost instinctively, you picked up the young boy and held him while you sprinted towards the paved road of the island that divided the beach and one of the small militia centers stationed there to serve as the base for the island’s patrols. 

The soldiers were fraternizing, some laughing out loud and the others just sitting on chairs holding drinks and basking in the summer sunlight. A few of the soldiers picked up on the sound of your boots, turning their heads to see you with the boy. The rest soon followed, and almost in unison, they tensed up and started handling their guns, wondering what the hell was happening for you to run towards them like this. 

You gently dropped the boy down, and he ran towards one of the male soldiers- his father, Manuel. The boy stood behind him, and Manuel messed with the boy’s hair with his free hand, the other holding his rifle. Manuel looked at you, with a combination of both concern and curiosity. 

You made sure to speak clearly, slightly panting from the run.

“A boat’s approaching the west side of the shore, I couldn’t see who or what is on it, but it’s approaching quickly - looks like a motor boat but I’m not sure.” 

The soldiers all looked at each other for a second, and then together started sprinting towards the area with guns in hand. Manuel stood still with his son, and instead of running with them, he handed you his rifle and motioned for you to go without him. He picked up the little boy and headed into the village, presumably to his house to leave him there. 

You ran with the other soldiers, adrenaline pumping through your body making a cold shiver run down you, all the while you pictured scenarios of what’s to come when you arrived at the shore. Was it the beginning of an attack? You’ve encountered other groups from the mainland, but you never thought any of them had the balls to attack the Fireflies, everyone knew that you all had military grade weapons. A part of you hoped that maybe it was just innocent survivors looking for a place to stay- survivors with no connections preferably. Don’t wanna have to deal with old groups causing small-scale wars over supplies, among other things. 

Your mind was put to a stop as you arrived, multiple soldiers were set in their defensive positions, squatting behind the boxes you were working on earlier. As you peered ahead to take a look at the oncoming vehicle, you noticed the sky was transitioning into a warm sunset, the colors pink, orange, and twinges of warm yellow adorning the sky. 

You decided to walk up to a group of three to four soldiers standing in front of the boxes, half of them pointing towards what you now realize are two people standing on the small boat, one of them slightly slouching behind the other- not a good sign. You grabbed the rifle and held it to your chest, slightly making yourself appear taller by straightening your back and standing straight. The boat approached swiftly, one of the men beside you held out his hand, motioning for a stand-by for the soldiers on the defense. He waved to you and the other soldiers in the standing group, letting you all know to approach the boat carefully. 

You did as instructed, as did the others. The boat was close enough for you to distinguish the features of the people on it…who didn’t seem like a threat. If anything…they looked like shit. The soldiers all looked at you slightly by turning their heads, seemingly with the same conclusion in mind.

Fuck. 

The boat was put to a stop before it collided with the wet sand, you and the soldiers stopped as well. Both individuals put their hands up, staying silent. The taller one started heading out of the boat and the shorter one followed, but the shorter one moved as if they weren’t fully awake, making them stumble and almost hit the ground. The taller one spun around and caught the smaller one by mere miracle, finally speaking in a soft raspy tone.

“Lev, are you alright?”

You pointed your gun at the two, maintaining your guard, and the others followed. You spoke softly but sternly, making sure to not spook the two.

“Hey, state your name and purpose along with any weapons that the two of you are carrying.”

The taller one turned to face you, and you both locked eyes with each other. They quickly scanned you up and down and then their surroundings, making them put their hands up once again. 

“M’ name’s Abigail- Abby Anderson, I made contact a few months ago after we found one of your stations outside of the Island…”

You heard shuffling behind you, so you turned your head to the back and lowered the rifle. One or two soldiers were now standing, both looking at each other and then towards Abby, looks of concern and confusion on their faces. Suddenly, you heard a loud voice yell out from afar.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Let me see who’s comin’ to shore!” 

The voice belonged to that of the radio manager, who you were familiar with since you often met with him to get work outside of the island assigned to you. Manuel and the radio manager popped out, sprinting towards you and the soldiers. You guessed that maybe Manuel let him know about the incident.

You turned back to face Abby, and who you assumed to be Lev, as both of their faces seem to slightly light up and the sound of the man’s voice. They both lowered their hands slightly, and you noticed this. Your instincts were still on high alert, so you couldn’t help but let your face turn into a grimace, making Abby and Lev keep their hands raised instead, seeming to slightly wince at the weight of their own arms. The sight of them hurting makes your stomach turn, and since the soldiers seemed to now be occupied with the other men arriving, you decide to switch to a more empathetic expression.

“Alright, put your hands down. Cindy, frisk them for any weapons as we wait for both men.”

The soldier to your right nods and heads towards Abby and Lev, giving them instructions on how to stand for the process. Cindy checks them and gives you a thumbs up, making you relax a little more.

“Cindy, do me a favor and check the boat as well.”

She nodded once more and headed towards the boat. You turned your head back to the visitors and noticed that Abby shared a soft gaze towards you, though you assumed she was most likely disassociating.

After a few moments, Lev just plopped down and sat, making Abby react by following suit, both now sitting on the sand. Five minutes later, the two men arrived, but both Abby and Lev seemed too out of it to pay any attention to them. You turned to face the radio manager, who tried to look past you to analyze both individuals on the ground. 

“Abby…?” 

Abby turned her head upwards to face the man, and he approached her. Squatting down and laying a hand on her shoulder hesitantly, he spoke again.

“...daughter of Jerry Anderson?”

The name made your head fuzz out almost instantly. What?

Abby spoke softly but loud enough for the soldiers close enough to hear. 

“Yes, that’s me.”

The man used his free hand to both hold and analyze her face. “You look like shit, it’s been years. Fuck. I’m so sorry about…everything.” Both of his hands fell down and he turned his gaze away from her. 

You stood dumbfounded at the interaction. You’ve heard of Jerry, the man who was assigned to create a vaccine, who was unfortunately killed by an attack from a well-known dangerous individual. You heard that he had a daughter and that she survived, but you never believed the story since well, she was never seen after the incident. Until now. You wondered if maybe the crazed man got to her as well. 

“Let’s get you both to the village, we’ll clean you up and make you feel better.”

Manuel, who had stayed back near the road, motioned for you to come over to him. You turned to face Abby and Lev one more time before moving. When you approached him, you handed him his rifle back with one hand and he grabbed it . He chuckled and sighed shortly after, before speaking.

“So…what do you think? Truth or trouble?”

Truth or trouble was like a little running motto between the both of you, created when you were both kids and playing soldiers. Truth refers to a situation where the people being interviewed (who were usually cornered by the both of you) were being honest, trouble referring to the opposite. You clicked your tongue and placed your hands on your hips, looking up at the now dark purple sky. 

“…Hoping for the truth to be honest. I don’t wanna deal with outside shit.”

You both started chuckling quietly so as to not catch the attention of the others, Manuel replied quickly and in a whisper, “Real.” 

After the chuckle fest ended, Manuel headed over to the rest of the soldiers. They were now helping Abby and Lev onto a truck that had arrived not too long ago- the radio manager called it over since everyone could tell that neither Abby nor Lev had the energy in them to stand, let alone walk. You looked at the ground and your feet. A part of you wondered how this would play out. There was a feeling in your chest that you didn’t know how to interpret. It felt numb and fuzzy, and you thought maybe it was just the emotions from the moments prior and the encounter with the new people all jumbled up into one thick mess. You sighed and moved closer towards the shore. After a while of contemplation, you sat on the sand staring at the ocean, deciding to stay a while and relax before heading home inside the village.

[bleue-flora]

Okay, so I heard you wanted to answer some questions so...How about 2, 4, 7, 16, 23, 56, and 73?

(Sorry if it's a lot, you don't have to answer them all if you don't want)

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Most of the time I write chapters and then determine the order and/or if I have to break it into multiple chapters. Sometimes I play scrapbook with random bits of writing I have and put those into a more cohesive chapter. Frequently, I’ll have a plan for like a set of chapters as far as what I want them to be. So a bit of both I guess.

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

Everything?… I mean for starters I have a list that’s made up of words I come across and think I can use later. Sometimes I’ll experience something and it’ll spur a writing section like tasting iron and writing a whole segment on blood. The most random things may inspire me to use as a description or metaphor like watching grass on the side of the road get pushed by the wind. Sometimes quotes from movies I’m watching or elsewhere inspire me. Sometimes an idea comes directly from a person intentionally or unintentionally. Comments can often spark something. Watching old dsmp streams for research is when I’ll sometimes catch a detail I didn’t before. Reading other fics can fuel new ideas. And sometimes I’m just delirious at 3am and decide that Quackity should crucify Dream… XD

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

It’s usually framed by the story or idea and often because I have specific thoughts I want the character to have.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Good question, which I answered here. It seems great minds think alike.

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

Not sure I have any business giving advice since I’ve only been writing fanfics for about a year now. But I’ll say this, don’t push yourself into writing if you can’t. Writers block happens and inspiration or creativity aren’t always available, which is ok. Those skills aren’t concrete like being able to pull out your calculator and do math or drive a car or brush your teeth. It’s a process and it comes and goes. I think everyone goes through it in one sense or another, but that doesn’t mean you have to let it beat you. Understand it is inevitable so no need to panic or apologize or give up. Instead, read other people’s works, talk to other writers for ideas, go enjoy life or any of the things I mentioned in 4. Inspiration will come again.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

I’d say it’s hard for me to pride myself in general. I write because I enjoy it not because I necessarily think it’s good (that requires confidence, which I don’t have XD) I’ve been told that my descriptions are very captivating and help the reader feel and see it in their mind, so probably that. People also tend to appreciate my dialogue which I try to make as real and accurate as possible even if that means lots of stuttering and filler words.

73. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

My insanity?…. Lol I mean, come on who else is writing hopscotch torture or making nutrition labels for their works? XD… For real though, I think my more flowery poetic style of writing isn’t standard. Someone once accused my chapter of being written by AI which I thought was both highly insulting and hilarious, because honestly my writing doesn’t follow the laws of grammar or story telling, like what do you mean you think a robot wrote this nonsense lol. ;)

[possessingtheproperspirit]

BTS for TPWP! That scene where there’s a big attack and James gets hurt.

thanks for sending this! sorry it's taken me a while to answer... this past week has been a bit intense 😅

So, this is about the end of chapter 14/all of chapter 15 of The Price We Pay. I'll pop it under a cut for those not wanting to be spoiled/not interested!

I like how you get almost half way through chapter 15 before we get anything from James' pov - I wanted to ramp up the suspense, as much as possible, because of course we know he has to live long enough to get Lily good and pregnant ;) but still, I wanted an element of peril. It was a fun chapter to write because most of the initial sections are really short, sharp little bursts of different characters, which I wanted to show the panic and fear through.

My favourite part of the chapter, though, is when we get to James in St Mungo's, and his interaction with his parents, particularly with his mum. He's been sliced up to high heaven but he's still worrying about Charlotte, about his friends, his parents. I love getting to show that side of James, behind any bravado and pomp, the caring, kind soul that he is.

And, as I said, the conversations with his parents. I love this bit:

“I’m sure your mother has already told you off for being a decent person,” Fleamont noted, floating one of the cups over to his wife, and the other onto the small side table nearby. Thus unburdened, he moved over to the bed to press a kiss into James’ hair. It made him feel six years old, again, in a wonderful and strange sort of way. “You’re to stop it at once.”

It's a bit of light-hearted conversation but with a real undercurrent of concern there too - if only he would stop being selfless and putting others' safety before his own, he wouldn't be there, bleeding like a faucet.

And no one likes to see their parents cry, do they? James looking on helplessly as he sees how terrified his mother has been, how she can't quite hold it back even though she's clearly trying to... oof.

And all that isn't even considering the gut punch that Sirius experiences when Remus comes to visit. I seem to recall getting a few comments calling Remus out for being an arsehole in that scene, but I never saw it that way. He's torn, he's still struggling with everything Sirius did, with that feeling of betrayal that never quite went away. He likes Owain a lot, he feels safe with him, knows that he wouldn't rip the floor out from under him like Sirius did. But none of that stops him from feeling the way he feels, like he's being pulled in two directions, and if no one will make the decision for him, he'll just tumble sideways into one instead...

I hope all this made sense, I am extremely tired (week away with school + covid booster vaccine leaving me hazy lol).

[mermaidsirennikita]

Have any HR Recommendation for a grovel or books like The courtesan Duchess?

I'm very about the gesture of the grovel (what it means, how it debases, how it's a sacrifice) over a big spiel without much action (most of the time). So I liked how Harper St. George did it with The Devil and the Heiress recently; that book was very cozy and soft, but the grovel was a big gesture from the hero, which I appreciate.

Of course, The Day of the Duchess by Sarah MacLean is basically a book-long marriage in trouble grovel; if you liked The Courtesan Duchess and haven't tried this, for sure give it a shot.

Lady Isabella's Scandalous Marriage by Jennifer Ashley is another great marriage in trouble book-long grovel. I also really liked that while there was a big event that precipitated the breakup of the marriage, they were also just super young and got married very impetuously and needed to grow up separately.

Something Spectacular by Alexis Hall is a nb/nb romance with a lovely grovel. The one lead didn't do something incredibly mean--their actions came from trauma. Buuuut there's still a really lovely "crying on my knees for the rain baby PLEASE" moment that I love.

I really want to reread When the Earl Met His Match by Stacy Reid, because the grovel. Is. So. Fucking. Romantic. And the hero really is a great guy, but he got caught up in the game and fucked up, and his grovel is.... amazing. Rain is involved. Knees are involved. Stacy also writes good grovels in Accidentally Compromising the Duke, Wicked in His Arms, and How to Marry a Marquess. Ohhhh dude, the hero reeeeeeally fucked up in the last one. Like, one TSnake lyric that really encapsulates what I love about a certain romance vibe is the "DON'T CALL ME KID DON'T CALL ME BABY" bit from Illicit Affairs (my favorite song of hers, probably). And that book lol. He really fucked her up. And he really had to sit in the coldest of storage of quite a bit before doing a gesture.

Monica McCarty has some good grovels in her Highland Guard series. The Hawk has a big gesture which is 90% fueled by a "OMG SHE MAY BE UNAVAILABLE TO ME FOREVER NOW" panic. The Arrow has a controversial scene that leads to a grovel which may or may not work for you, depending on your tolerance of things. The Knight is a novella that is so high angst groveling for so much of the book, lol. It's bold. I still don't know if it 100% succeeded for me, but it is... bold.

The Notorious Lord Knightly by Lorraine Heath just came out, and it has the hero up against the woman he left at the altar five years earlier! She's written erotic friend fiction about all the shit he did to her and published it anonymously and he's like "well. this DOES sound like something I would do...."

Once More My Darling Rogue by Lorraine also has a grovel because the hero spends most of the book pretending that the amnesiac heroine is his housekeeper, lmao. She diiiiid in fact treat him like trash before she lost her memory. TW: discussion of childhood sexual abuse.

A Rogue's Rules for Seduction by Eva Leigh is another book-long grovel after the hero left the heroine at the altar. Their friends invite them both to an island house party so they're forced to be close to each other. They literally see each other and bolt for the shore, but their boats have already left, lmao. Very hot.

Untamed by Elizabeth Lowell is a 90s medieval that has... a truly epic grovel. The most insane grovel. And he needs to grovel--he's a dick and treats the heroine with zero trust for most of the novel. But it's so, so, so good.

How to Steal a Scoundrel's Heart by Vivienne Lorret. Hero does a good grovel, complete with a puppy. Also, you might like this compared to The Courtesan Duchess because the heroine is very literally the hero's signed, sealed, delivered mistress.

The Bride Goes Rogue by Joanna Shupe has a great grovel made better by her being like ".... do better".

On a less grovel-related note, you might like these if you liked The Courtesan Duchess:

Her Husband's Harlot by Grace Callaway. Very similar in that the heroine disguises herself as a "harlot" and seduces her husband (somewhat less intentionally, lol). The husband is less asinine in TCD (unfortunately) but it's very hot and romantic. TW: I believe childhood sexual abuse is discussed.

The Wolf and The Wildflower by Stacy Reid has a great secret identity plot, wherein the heroine has been disguised as a man for most of her life (her dad thinks she's a boy!!) and she works as a psychiatrist. So naturally she's hired to help "civilize" a duke who LIVED WITH ACTUAL WOLVES (Wolfduke all hail) and he obviously knows she's a girl immediately because he can smell. Her. Arousal. Like a wolf. Tbh this has little to do with TCD aside from the secret identity, but everyone should read it.

The Ranger by Monica McCarty does some more "I'm tricking thee with my secret identity" stuff. But he's the one with a secret; the hero is undercover at the heroine's dad's keep, and he and the heroine are on the opposite sides of the war. She seems him as this noble knight protector, and he's actually literally like, mortal enemies with her dad. It's very emotional.

Unmasked by the Marquess by Cat Sebastian is a m/AFAB nb romance that's a bit more lighthearted and has the duke hero fall for his new best friend... But his new best friend actually is not a man, and there's a big "omg how could you" before like. Super hot sex.

The Marquess Makes His Move by Diana Quincy actually has a marquess disguise himself as a footman so he can steal some important documents from this mapmaker (I think), but it turns out the true mapmaker is the mapmaker's WIFE!!! And our hero begins to fall for her while in his servant disguise.

[romanarose]

ORCHID!!! Mainly cuz I also want some song suggestions 🥹❤️

OH BOY HERE WE GO BC MUSIC IS MY LIFE

your getting a LIST

1. Man in motion (st. Elmos fire) by Jon parr. Made for the famous John hughs movie, st Elmo’s fire. It’s my hype song, it’s so encouraging “you broke the boy in me, but you won’t break the man” is such a great line bc it acknowledges that yeah, you fucked me up as a youth but you will not destroy the rest of my life

2. For You, Bruce Springsteen. Shocker it’s a Springsteen song! Now I prefer the version that’s live from hammerstien England bc it’s slowed down and 8 minutes of HEARTBREAK I listened ti this on repeat this summer to process some shit from high school

3. Dear John, Taylor Swift. I am not a swiftie by any means but speak now was an incredible album. Dear John perfectly describes what an manipulative relationship feels like. “Wondering which version of you I might get on the phone tonight” bruh

4. Crystal by Fleetwood Mac. Another shocker band lol. One of the few songs by Fleetwood Mac that is written by one person but sang by another. Lindsay sang this one but Stevie wrote it. Lindsay’s voice with Stevie’s imagery?!?! Wow

5. Go insane, Fleetwood Mac. Another lien day buckingham song, but you GOTTA hear the live version. Lindsay put his whole Buckussy into that version

6. Born to run Bruce Springsteen. Just…. God. It’s THE Bruce song, man, THE song.

7. Carry on by fun. I knooooowwww everyone knows this song but I LOVE IT!!!!

8. Survive by Rise Agsinst. “How we survive is what makes us who we are” that’s all you gotta know

9. Iridescent by linkin park. FUCK! Songs like this, shadow of the day, you are not alone…. It hurts when Chester Bennington did SO MUCH for me, helping me and I couldn’t help him. But this song man? Perfect

10. Be calm by Fun. Someone on YouTube said this song sounds like how a panic attack feels and ITS TRUE

11. In the end, linkin park. Like, dude. When I first heard it, I was kind blown

12. Si una ves, Selena. YOU TELL EM QUEEN! GO OFF!!

13. Swing life away by rise against. “If love is a labor I’ll slave till the end” oh Tim, you get me

14. Boys of summer by don Henley: also see the version by ataris. The way you can just.., FEEL like it’s the end of summer man. You can FEEL the longing. Been wanting to do a song fic to this one within the Seattle fic universe

15. Show me the way by STYX. Now, Dennis deyoung isn’t Jewish, but for me, who is converting to Judaism and just really felt a homecoming with it, I decided this is a Jewish song now. The imagery of the river and the mountains and religion references…. It just screams Jewish to me. But! All In all it’s a INCREDIBLE ballad about feeling lost in all the pain in the world and reaching out to whatever it is that grounds you. Family, friends, god, love, the earth, whatever

OK ILL END IT THERE!! I just am passionate about music!

Which, if you are family with my masterlist, you’ll see there’s a Lot of song fics, and almost every fic is named after a long. Sunshine has just song after song referenced. I have no talent for singing or playing, but my love for music is beyond everything

But I created this playlist for you of all the songs that I can never get enough of!

I also have this playlist of all my favorite Fleetwood mac songs, called Yeetwood Mac bc I’m insane and love this band

There’s also a playlist on my masterlist with every song either mentioned in fics, titles I used for fic titles, or song fics

Hope this isn’t entirely insane

[ren-c-leyn]

Happy STS Ren! Okay so wait, there are TWO new champion duos in the Forgotten Gods universe?👀 A chaotic siren goddes and stuffy champion and a stuffy god with a chaotic champion? That sounds so cool! Would those two belong to the same story? Any more details about the characters? 👀 And a writing update so I don't miss on any cool project thoughts if any come around^^

@writingonesdreams

 Dreams! :D Always good to hear from you <3 You always have the best questions.

 Starting with your writing update since it is the quickest - Hope you enjoy the ramble @writingonesdreams

 I have been buckling down on Shackles of Time. I knocked out the final chapter of The Stormy Road Ahead arc! Just need to rewrite and schedule the last two chapters of that arc, and it’ll finished up in December. Then, I started a new word document with the next arc - A Prayer from the Past. It’s the first arc featuring the new team - Drusilla + her familiar, Lucien, and Azalea.

 You’ll be excited to know that their story is going to take them to a place from one of the first Shackles of Time rambles you got out of me - The Ivory Moon Island. The floating island with a temple to the moon God, and they’re also looking for a character whose been mentioned from the very beginning of the story but hasn’t made her grand appearance - Riya. So it’s all looping back together ^^ It’s like a dream come true! I get to drag in another of my legendary hero charries and run a team through a floating island ruin. *happy screaming*

 I’ll be alternating the teams’ arcs from this point forward, and will be adding occasional mini arcs like an important date for Glenn and Zephyr, some Time Keeper and Wyndulin scenes, ect. My goal is to keep the original trio at the main focus of the story, but plot elements have demanded a second team to start exploring some of the threads that I need to bring to the surface but didn’t make sense for the main trio to be involved in.

 Now onto your question -

 Yes, there are two more duos, but they are entirely unrelated stories since they are in different parts of the world. Actually the Siren Goddess’s black sea is on another continent entirely from the rest of the champions :D

 So for the original pair, the chaotic champion and serious god - This is the least developed pair at the moment. I’m only getting small snippets for them.

 I’m thinking that the champion is young, late teens early twenties, and has been in trouble for pretty much his entire life. I don’t think he really has a family, though the exact circumstances surrounding that are still a mystery to me.

 I’m thinking that someone finally got tired of it, maybe a priestess, and dragged him to the local temple of the God, I’m not entirely sure on domain yet but I’m thinking something along the lines of Honor and Valor, a God favored by warriors and like town guards; and so in an effort to turn this kid’s life around, the God decides to make him a champion.

 The problem with this plan is is now this chaotic little gremlin has magic powers and can do even more chaos, so babysitting the champion has become a full-time job for this poor God and their priestess, lol. I imagine it’ll be a story where we get to see a lot of direct interference from the God of the champion’s life, maybe even a quest in a desperate attempt to try and get this kid on the right track. The Siren Goddess and her champion - This one I do have more solidified and fleshed out, though I’m debating on if it’ll become spicy or if I want to keep the adult content out. It’d be something entirely new for me to write something spicy, but it would fit the theme of the Goddess in question. I guess we’ll see when I get there.

 The champion is a woman who is fleeing her past to another continent via ship. Everything in the journey goes smoothly until we reach the black sea. Singing starts catching everyone’s attention, a haunting bewitching song. The crew starts to panic and a storm starts brewing. The woman and other passengers don’t know what’s going on. The ship goes down and the singing gets stronger. Some even fall under it’s spell and start diving down. The woman is dragged under and is face to face with a siren who is pushing her down deeper and deeper into the waters while singing a different song. She’s struggling and fighting but as her vision is going dim, she starts to see something, someone else.

 The Siren Goddess makes her a champion, and when she wakes up, she’s on a blue sandy beach, the only survivor of the ship wreck, and every once in awhile she swears she hears faint singing on the breeze and wicked laughter in her ear.

 I think that there’s also a priest of the siren goddess, trying to guide her down their path, and I think that the story will be the struggle of her trying to fight her way tooth and nail onto her own path while the Siren Goddess of the Black Sea tries to drag her into her fold. It’s a push and pulling turbulent dynamic with corruption and temptation.

 That’s all I have on them at the moment. I’m keeping them vague until I know which story is coming next.

 Thanks for stopping by! I hope you have a lovely day/evening.

[winryrockbellwannabe]

AJ my beloved <3 how have you been? I don't get to see nearly enough of you on my dash :" I love love love your ghibli challenge, it's so calming and comforting and it always brings a smile to my face <3 and it's so characteristically youuu!!! (when I think of you I automatically envision Kiki xD) and now you're already halfway through the challenge omg! time goes so fast 😩

this ask is kinda overdue atp, we haven't spoken in a while and i just missed you too much T-T so hi 🥺💗 have you been eating well and staying hydrated? I hope youve been taking good care of yourself :))

also! I just saw your bookworm post and I want to ask- 43 and 44! honestly I love listening to you talk about books and media in gen and your tsh rants are 🤌🤌 I'll bombard you with more numbers soon xD

sending in lots of love and hugs, specifically the ponyo kind 💕🫂 love youuu<3

MEG!! hiii, i missed you!! 🥺 <333

(sorry, i also took ages answering this, chaotic couple of weeks)

I've been okay, kinda overwhelmed rn bc ✨exams✨, which also means my bachelor's is almost over???? *panics a little bit*

I'm so glad you liked my ghibli challenge, i was needing a pick me up for the last weeks of classes and i think it was great for it. And i was definitely inspired by your takami challenge! It was so cute, and it really made me want to watch the series so I could understand all the references!!!

(Im so honored to be associated with kiki in your brain, meanwhile I can't watch ponyo rn without thinking of you💞)

Also, dw about the ask being "overdue", honestly you've been hella busy, so don't worry about it - I've been happy just watching from "a far" rooting for you and being super proud!!!💗

Also, you sound like my mom ahahah, yes I've been eating enough. Drinking water too, since my sister got me the cutest water bottle with little daisies in it, it's adorable.

Lastly, ahhhk, I'm honored you like my media rants, most of the time I feel like I'm just saying gibberish ahaha

(answering the question under the break, bc this is getting too long lol)

43. Title of a book you own that's in the worst physical condition you have. Explain what happened to it. Post a picture if you want.

uuh. Currently not that many books are in terrible conditions (not like me and my sister's old harry potter novels - in one of them the cover just fell off before i even read it lmao)

I usually try to keep my book pristine, not folding pages or breaking the spine. BUT, in the Game of Thrones (fun fact, the copy wasn't even mine, it was my sister's) i was getting so frustrated with it, i was just breaking the spine off to deal with my frustration lmao

44. The book(s) whose stories have become part of your very makeup.

Ahh SO MANY. Definitely Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the universe and The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. Those two are the kind of books you read in 2020/21 that make you feel so seen in those moments that you are so hopeless and alone and ahhh. they really made me feel understood in some kind of way

Pride and Prejudice and St. Clare's saga by Enid Blynton, bc of how long I've been obsessed with them. In the same way, Harry Potter and Percy Jackson.

The Poppy War and TSH just bc of the emotional damage lmaoo

And that's it!

Now, how are you??? Also, I already gave you a tiny review of you poetry on the reblogs, but gotta say it again, MEG IT WAS BEAUTIFUL! I will stalk your poetry blog once my exams end, so expect excited asks about it in like.... a month? (*sobs*)

gotta go, love youuuu 💗💗💗

[just-emilia]

for anyone who cares, yes i'm still alive. life update following in the tags bc im on mobile and don't know how to do a read more (can you even?)

[collectorsedtn]

The (insane, crazy, stupid) Deal - P.1

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Series Summary: When Y/N Henderson asks her crush out in front of his girlfriend (who she didn't know about!) damage control needs to be done. In a state of panic, she asks Steve Harrington, her little brothers best friend and Mr Popular of Hawkins High, to pretend to date her for a week. In return, they hope to convince Nancy Wheeler that she made the wrong choice and to see what she's been missing. Fake dating drama ensues. ST Timeline: After Season 2, before Season 3 (but may play around with the timeline just to have Robin and their Scoops Ahoy job in here) word count: 4k a/n: Told myself I wasn't gonna start a series but I just love the fake dating trope so here we are lol Part 2

This was crazy. This was insane and stupid and dumb and crazy. You’re not sure what demon possessed you to make so many stupendously horrible mistakes, but whoever he was, he obviously had it out for you. Each decision you made was worse than the one prior, creating a domino effect where each mistake snowballed into the next, resulting in this exact moment. 

The moment in question? Kissing Steve Harrington. 

You could tell that Steve was still in shock, his hands barely grasping your waist and his lips pretty much unresponsive to yours. Your eyes were thankfully closed so you could spare yourself the humiliation of seeing his eyes wide open during a very public kiss at a very popular party. You don’t blame him, even you were completely mystified as to what your thought process was for this moment. You had panicked and put barely any thought into what you were doing when you ran up to him and just planted one on him in the middle of the party, simply reacting from one humiliating situation into another one. You knew that this was a huge mistake on so many different accounts. Not only was he King Steve, but he was your brother’s friend and not the boy that you’re actually crushing on, although you had just found out that that boy might just be a lost cause anyway. On that note, you start to pull away, deciding to end this torture sooner rather than later when you suddenly feel Steve’s hands finally start to grasp at your sides and a hint of reciprocity from his own lips, although you’re not even sure if it really happened or if your mind is just trying to make up for the endless rounds of humiliation you had already experienced today.

You open your eyes to see Steve’s completely bewildered expression, his eyes wide with confusion and mouth slightly agape, but his hands still holding onto your waist. You open your mouth so you can start explaining yourself before deciding against it, realising the music would be too loud for you to properly have a conversation with him. You grab his hand instead, guiding him to the closest room you could find, weaving through groups of people who openly stare at the two of you with curiosity and a few snickers, probably making wrong assumptions as to where we were going and what we were going to do. You finally reach a bathroom, quickly pulling Steve in after you and locking the door. You lean your back against the door, reaching your hand to rest over your chest and feeling your heart beating against the palm of your hand, adrenaline going through the roof. 

“Okay, let me explain myself.” You begin.

“Yeah, what the hell was that, Henderson?” Steve’s slightly annoyed, this much you can gather. He’s standing across from you, leaning on the sink with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Usually I’m good at picking up signals but you got me at a complete loss this time. Where the hell did that come from?” 

“Look, I panicked, okay? I just panicked. My brain imploded and I panicked and I kissed you.” You rambled, mind running a mile a minute.

“That’s not an explanation.” He retorts, shaking his head.

“It felt like I had no other choice.”

“Just what a man wants to hear.” 

“I mean, I felt – I felt trapped! I thought there was only one solution to get me out of it.”

“Earth to Y/n? You’re still not making sense. Get you out of what?”

You let out a deflated sigh before answering, “Danny McCormick.” You keep your eyes trained on your shoes, avoiding eye contact as you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. 

There’s silence for a moment as Steve processes what you said but comes up empty. “...Danny McCormick?”

You push away from the door and start pacing the short length of the bathroom, still keeping your eyes trained to your feet. “Tonight was the night I was finally gonna make a move on Danny McCormick. And I did. Kind of.” You explain, wringing your hands. “Well, I was starting to, y’know? I asked him out.” 

You finally look up at him to make sure he’s following your story to see his brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay? Good for you. What does that have to do with me?”

“Because right after I asked him out, Mandy, his apparent girlfriend who I knew nothing about, showed up right next to him, giving me the stink eye. Which, in retrospect, I totally deserved.”

Steve nods his head slowly, you can tell he’s trying to pick up the pieces. “Ah, so I’m guessing this is where the panicking starts?”

“Yup. My brain just went into fight or flight and I started improvising. But the big, huge, terrible  problem is that I’m not good at improvising. I just start saying the first thing that comes to my head without even thinking about the repercussions of what I’ve just said”

“Wrap it up, Henderson, get to the explanation.” Steve says impatiently.

“So my brain kind of starts working overtime when I realise that I’ve just asked Danny out in front of his girlfriend and I’m scrambling for ideas to get me out of it, when suddenly I see you right in my line of vision. Now, this is the part where the monkey with the cymbals in my brain starts getting all erratic and giving me bad ideas.”

“The monkey with the cymbals?”

“Yeah you know the one. The monkey toy in the yellow vest that goes crazy with the cymbals? The one with the creepy eyes? That’s what I picture is driving all my common sense away in my head. Like the cymbals are just blocking and drowning all other thoughts out. Anyway, I see you, and the monkey with the cymbals goes off in my brain, and I think hey, there’s Steve, he’s a nice guy! He’s friends with my brother! And so I just tell them, Danny and Mandy, that what I meant to say was double date, not date singular, but date plural. And obviously Mandy isn't buying it so she’s all ‘Well who’s your date?’ and so I say–”

“Steve.” Steve finishes. 

“Exactly!” You say, pointing your fingers at Steve. “But she can still smell the bullshit since I’m not a great actor, so she’s all ‘You’re going on a date with Steve Harrington?’ and she says it in this real condescending tone which really pisses me off. And look, I know and you know that you would never date me which I’m totally fine with because I would never date you, but who the hell is Mandy to assume that I’m not good enough for Steve Harrington? As if I’m below you or something!”

“I’m guessing the monkey cymbals came out again.”

“Oh, the monkey cymbals came out in full force when she said that because I just ran towards you in a blind, hot rage and–”

“Kissed me.”

“Yes! That’s when I kissed you and – Oh my god! I kissed you!” You gasp out, hand coming over your mouth as you realise what you had done. You had gotten so wrapped up in the explanation of it all that you had already forgotten you kissed Steve. “This is basically assault. I pretty much assaulted you. I’m an assaulter!”

“Woah woah woah let’s not go that far.” Steve stressed, pushing himself off the sink.

“No but I did Steve! I just kissed you without your consent. God, this is probably the worst thing I’ve ever done. I just forced you to kiss me!” You lean back against the wall and slide down until you’re crouched on the floor, arms resting on your knees and your head in your hands. 

“I wouldn’t use the word for–”

“People get charged for doing stuff like this. People get arrested for doing stuff like this.” You exclaim, looking up at Steve who was now standing in front of you.

“Nobody is getting arrested–”

“It’s basically the same as punching someone. I’m no better than some violent, brutish–”

“You are taking this way too far.”

“ –abuser. I mean, I should really let you punch me.”

“ –what?” Steve barks, so shocked that he takes a physical step back.

You tilt your head up to look at him, sincere expression adorning your face. “I totally deserve it. An eye for an eye. I assault you, you assault me.” 

“Y/n, I’m not going to punch you, are you crazy?”

“It’s only fair.”

“It’s not fair if I don’t want to punch you!” Steve scoffs.

“But I’m letting you! All I ask is anywhere but the face. I've recently grown to like my face and it’ll be harder to hide the bruise.” You commanded, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes to pretend like you were preparing yourself to get hit, hiding the smile that was tugging at your lips. You were obviously teasing Steve at this point since you knew he would never hit you, but you also weren’t close enough to him for him to know that you were joking.

“Y/n stop it. I’m not hitting you.” Steve huffed, nudging his foot with yours so you’d open your eyes again and look at him.

You give in, turning your head back and staring up at him again. “But I don’t know how to make it up to you.” 

“I don’t know what type of person you think I am, but allowing me to hit you is not you making it up to me. Besides, after hearing all of that, the kiss is the last thing I’m annoyed about, the double date on the other hand–”

At this you scramble to your feet and grab Steve’s hand, remembering the stupid double date that you lied to Danny about. “Please Steve it’ll just be one date–”

“No way! I am not going to willingly spend my free time with Danny McCormick of all people.”

You pull your hand back quickly. “What’s wrong with Danny?” You question defensively.

Steve scoffs at this, shrugging slightly. “No offence to your taste or whatever, but the dude’s got the personality of a wet blanket.”

“He does not!” 

“Uh, yes he does.”

“No he doesn’t! He’s kind and smart and has passion and hobbies and interests!” You defend.

“Yet he’s somehow still the most boring person I’ve ever met on the planet, and need I remind you Y/N, we live in Hawkins Indiana, we probably have the highest percentage of boring people in the world.” Steve teases with a small smile, walking over to the bathroom door and unlocking it, deciding the conversation is over. 

“Please Steve, I’ll do whatever you want!” You insist, following behind him as he exits the bathroom. “I’ll take over babysitting duties! I’ll drop off and pick up Dustin from your house so you don’t have to drive him! I’ll do your trig work for you!”

Steve pauses at this,“All my trig homework?” He asks, head not even turning to look at you. 

“Well, actually, probably not that since I’m morally against plagiarism and doing someone else’s work for them but I’ll tutor you in trig! I promise I’m a really great tutor!” 

Steve laughs at this before shaking his head and continuing to walk away. “Yeah, no way. No deal.”

You continue to chase after him, weaving through throngs of people. Once you’re close enough again, you hold onto the bottom of his shirt between your fingers so that you don’t lose him again, trailing behind him as he makes his way past people.“C’mon Steve! It’s just one shitty double date. Honestly, tell me what you want in exchange because these are desperate times.”

“Very desperate times apparently.” Steve mused, smirking down at you and making light of your previous kiss. You bark out a laugh and hit his arm as you round a corner, bumping directly into Nancy and Jonathan, causing all four of you to jump back slightly. The air is awkward and tense around the four of you with Steve’s eyes on Nancy, Nancy’s eyes on Steve and Jonathan’s eyes on Nancy, you just there taking the whole thing in.

“Steve,” Nancy finally beamed, smiling at him sincerely, Jonathan next to her smiling politely as well. Nancy’s eyes quickly cut to your hand which was still holding onto the bottom of Steve’s shirt and up to your face, a barely noticeable furrow clouding her expression for a second before she wipes it away with a smile directed at you. “And Y/N! Hi.” 

You smile politely back at her in return, making note of the expression you caught on Nancy’s face that you’re sure no one else saw.

“Hey, didn’t know you guys would be at this party.” Steve manages with a grin, you can tell that it’s forced from the way it doesn’t reach his eyes and you’re sure Nancy can tell too. 

“Yeah, we kinda felt like we needed to spend some time with people our age after listening to the kids play dnd all day.” Jonathan explains casually, Nancy nodding along in agreement. 

The four of you stand together in awkward silence, nodding along to the previous statement, “Oh shoot!” You pipe up, breaking the silence as you turn to face Steve, nudging his shoulder with yours. “That actually reminds me that we should probably get going. I promised Dustin I’d be home soon to help him set up the next campaign. You can still give me a ride, right Steve?” You asked, looking up at him with wide eyes which hopefully translated what you were saying but probably made you look crazy. 

“Uh yeah sure…” Steve replies slowly, obviously not understanding what you’re doing but just going along with it. “Yeah, me and Henderson are gonna get going. We’ll see you guys later.” 

All four of you wave your goodbyes before you start to walk away with Steve, impulsively grabbing his hand in yours and threading your fingers through his, keeping a strong grip so he doesn’t pull away. 

Steve nearly jumps back at the surprising contact, staring down at you with wide, dumbfounded eyes. “What the hell are you doing?” Steve questions through gritted teeth.

You lean up on your toes to whisper in Steve’s ear, “Testing out a theory.” You turn your head back just before you round the corner and see Nancy’s eyes linger on yours and Steve’s hands, causing you to break out into a mischievous smile. The second you’re out of sight of Nancy and Jonathan you wrench your hand from Steve’s and lift it for a high five, to which Steve just stares blankly at your hand.

“What am I meant to do with that?” Steve nods towards your still upraised hand, wearing an expression of mild annoyance. 

“High five!” You explain, still holding your hand up.

“Why?” Steve asks, finally relenting and giving you a very lacklustre high five, although you would say it was more similar to a gentle hand nudging rather than a high five.

“Because,” you sing, “Nancy was one hundred percent staring at our hands meaning, drumroll please!” Steve stares at you blankly again, not willing to entertain you. “Wow, you’re in a mood.” You grumble, rolling your eyes, “It means she’s jealous, nimrod. That’s what I can give you in exchange.” You pat Steve on the arm with a smile, walking on without him while you let him absorb your words behind you.

“You think she was jealous?” Steve calls out after you, jogging back up to you. By now the two of you were out of the house and on your way to Steve’s car, the night air so chilly that your breaths came out like puffs of smoke. 

“Definitely. I noticed it when we first bumped into them so I had to test out my theory, that’s why I held your hand.” You explain, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets to bury them away from the cold. You hear Steve hum in reply as he processes this information in his own time, silently leading the both of you to his car. “So will you do it?” You ask, breaking Steve out of his thoughts as he unlocks the car.

“Do what?”Steve asks, sliding into the driver's seat.

“Go on the date with me in exchange for making Nancy jealous again.” You elaborated simply, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting the door. 

“What? No.” Steve grumbles, frowning and shaking his head as he starts the car up and pulls away from the house, refusing to make eye contact with you. “I don’t even care if Nancy gets jealous. We’re broken up anyways.” 

You whip your head around to face him and give him a look which reads ‘I can read straight through your bullshit’, smiling a little at his obvious state of denial. “Uh yeah, sure. I totally believe you.” You tease sarcastically. 

“What, you don’t bel–” He stops himself when he pulls his eyes away from the road and glances your way, deciding to give up then and there when he sees the expression on your face. “Yeah alright, so I care a little bit that she got jealous, so what?” 

You smile triumphantly at his admission before explaining your plan to him, “So you can go on the double date with me and then I’ll let you act all flirty with me in front of Nancy and make her jealous and see what she’s missing.”

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry, but I’m not going on the double date. I don’t do double dates. Especially double dates with Dann—”

“Danny McCormick, yeah I know.” You grumble out defeatedly, slumping in your passenger seat. You’re silent for a moment as you think of other options to get you out of your humiliating mess with Danny, especially since you have to see him every single day in class. “What if I cancel on the double date but you act all flirty with me in front of Danny and Mandy, just enough to prove to them that I wasn’t hitting on him.”

“But you were hitting on him.” Steve reminds you pointedly.

“Only because I didn’t know he had a girlfriend!” You defend yourself, huffing out an annoyed sigh when you see Steve’s lips quirk up at your obvious irritation. “C’mon Steve! This can be mutually beneficial. Just do your whole flirty King Steve bit with me in front of Nancy, Danny and Mandy and it’s a win-win situation.” You’re practically begging at this point, as if you hadn’t experienced enough humiliation in one night. 

You watch with bated breath as Steve keeps his eyes forward on the road ahead, his one hand resting on the steering wheel and the other pulling at his lip, obviously thinking over your proposal and how it will benefit him. “If I say yes to this, and that’s if, we gotta set some ground rules.”

You practically fling your body forward so you’re turned in your chair and facing him, nodding your head vigorously and excitedly. “Yes! Ground rules. Completely agree.”

“Like, there needs to be an end date to all of this. And we need to specify what we’re allowed to do and when we’re allowed to do it.” You nod along to everything Steve says, too excited and overwhelmed to even come up with your own ground rules. “And we gotta think of an answer for when people start asking questions about what we are to each other.”

“What we are to each other?” You’re confused now, as you had just assumed that the situation would just be some light flirting in the hallway, not anything that resembled actual dating.

“Yeah, I mean, I flirt with everyone so if you want it to be believable that we’re really into each other, I kinda gotta go all in. People are gonna ask questions.” Steve shrugs, catching your eye briefly before turning away again.

“Oh… I guess I never thought about that.” You mumble out quietly.

“What? Now you’re all shy and want to back out? Aren’t you the one that kissed me?” Steve teases as he finally stops the car in front of your house, pulling his key out of the ignition.

“Shut up, I was just thinking.” You grin back, undoing your seatbelt and twisting your body so you’re fully facing him with your back to the passenger door and your legs crossed on the seat. You’re silent for a moment as you pick apart ideas in your brain, trying to come up with some ground rules that would benefit both of you in this situation. “I think we should start off with just one week of public flirting slash displays of affection, then we can reconsider if we need more time after the one week.” You finally propose.

Steve nods his head at this, mimicking your actions by sitting cross legged across from you as well. “Kissing or no kissing?” He asks. 

“No kissing. Unless absolutely necessary.” You answer with the shake of your head. “And if people ask what we are to each other, we’ll say that we’ve just been on a few dates, nothing serious.”

“Yeah, I like that. Good answer.” Steve nods along before leaning over and rummaging through the centre console, finally fishing out some old receipt paper and a pen, no doubt jotting down everything you were saying. “And what do we tell Dustin?” Steve asks, not looking up as he finishes writing down his last word. 

“Why does Dustin need to know?”

“Don’t you think he’s gonna hear about how one of his best friends is being seen with his sister?” Steve asks.

“This thing is gonna last a week.” You state, shaking your head dismissively. “I doubt it’ll make the gossip rounds and reach his middle school in just a week.”

“Yeah, but it might.” Steve counters.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge if we get there.”

Steve raises his eyebrows and sighs in defeat. “Fine, whatever.” He says, shrugging his shoulders and scooting closer to you, passing the old receipt paper which he was writing on. “Have a look at this and see if it looks alright.” You grab the paper from him and quickly skim through all the bullet points, nodding along to everything but stopping at the last point. Y/N will not fall in love with Steve. 

“What’s this?” You ask, pointing to the last point. 

“It’s a clause that says you won't fall in love with me.” Steve says matter of factly, expression dead serious. 

“Yeah, right” You snort, stealing the pen out of his hand so you can cross it out. 

“I’m being serious. You haven’t experienced my full charm, Y/N, the clause is completely necessary.” Steve insists with crossed arms.

You roll your eyes and laugh at him a little but decide not to fight him on this, signing your name messily at the bottom of the paper before passing it to Steve to sign as well. Once you both signed the paper, you took his hand in yours and gave it one firm shake to fully seal the deal, Steve even giving you a salute with his other hand, causing you to snort out a laugh. 

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Steve jokes, giving one last shake before letting your hand go. 

“I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday.” You say, gathering your few belongings before stepping out of the car. You start to shut the car door but stop halfway, leaning down again to say one more thing, “Again, I am so sorry for kissing you without your permission. So sorry.” You say sheepishly, earning some surprised laughter from Steve. 

“Henderson, seriously, it’s fine. Plus, I’ll get you back at some point this week so fair is fair.” Steve says, cheeky glint in his eyes. 

You squint your eyes at him before slamming the door shut, walking halfway up your driveway before turning around and shouting, “You better read those terms and conditions well. It said unless absolutely necessary.” You turn back around before seeing his reaction, running up to your door and wondering what the hell you had just got yourself into. 

[romanticoutcast]

Now that you somehow mentioned it I’d love to know how you’d see tom and his personality evolving, like how he would behave 8-10 years later(whether it’s in a canon or non-canon setting)! Bc i have my very own interpretation of late-teen/young adult sawyer and I love to know other opinions abt this kind of stuff— (btw I already read and loved some of your fanfics (those where he isn’t ded lol) so I have an overall idea but i love annoying ppl)

okay okay so...i have a LOT of thoughts about tom’s personal character development both in canon, and what it might lead to in the future.

this is all gonna seem like an unnecessary summary of tom’s character, but it’s all leading up to a point i sWEAR LMAO.

i think conspiracy could serve as a huge catalyst for tom’s character development, among other things. throughout the sequel novels, he continued to worm his way out of situations he deliberately put himself and others into multiple times, mostly by his own cleverness, while always making a big show of it. the more he proves himself in the public eye, the more he wants to do it again and becomes willing to create dangerous problems just to do so. he shows the town time and time again how smart he is, how special he is, how promising his future will be. in conspiracy, tom doesn’t impress the town in court with his detective skills, like he’s done so often before. it’s not another opportunity for him to show off, the way he wanted it to be. instead he makes himself look like a liar when confessing his harebrained schemes, because everyone knows none of it makes any sense at all, and so far tom has been nothing but a beacon of intelligence and common sense in their eyes. he becomes speechless and cries about all the ways his stupid mistakes have made jim suffer, and he’s gone too far this time to fix it. he humiliates himself publicly. just as tom’s rise to glory in st. petersburg was always a public matter (like he tried to make it), so is his downfall.

he got such a big head from all this past “”success”” that he truly believes it’s impossible for him to fail. once he does, he panics, loses all of his self-assurance, and tries to get jim out of the trouble he got him into the fastest, most straightforward way possible. tom, the one who is constantly lording his intelligence over huck’s head and scolding him for being a “saphead,” desperately tells huck that he wishes he had just listened to him instead of going after glory, that he was an idiot for playing with fire. it’s obvious that the events in conspiracy have taken a huge toll on tom’s arrogance and pride, and one can only hope that he won’t mess up the same way again after this.

warning, this take on tom’s character has a LOT of sawyerberry. another catalyst for tom’s growth could be huck leaving st. petersburg. i think it’s safe to say that although tom loves huck as his best friend, he takes his friendship for granted. huck needs to get out of town, find himself to gain more confidence and make relationships outside of tom so that he’s not so codependent on him. tom needs to realize just how much huck doesn’t need him, how much huck can thrive outside of st. petersburg and without tom. huck has always been a compassionate, generous person, and tom needs to become more appreciative of all the traits he dismissed before.

also, huck influencing tom to think outside of society’s set of rules that he, for the most part, is so stuck in. huck influences tom to adopt more abolitionist sentiments. strictly speaking in a romantic sense, the realization that tom might have feelings for huck causes him to go through the very long, difficult process of struggling to accept what he feels and decide whether he’s going to stay inside his comfort zone, where it is safe, or leave it and everyone inside. him realizing he just might be part of a marginalized group of people, a group of people that a christian town like his would find the feelings he feels, that he didn’t ask for, despicable, could be a huge wake-up call.

basically i feel that through nothing but fate (and huck) humbling tom a LOT could he go down a much better path than if he just continued to make a great name for himself all the time in st. petersburg. always staying within the comfortability of his hometown and having everyone inside of it think so highly of him all the time isn’t a challenge to tom’s worst personal flaws. going against the grain of society alongside huck just might be though.

in the end i just think of a young adult tom as someone who is still too proud at times for his own good, still gets wound up too easily over good literature. but instead he moons over books within the strict safety net of his brain. he’s just as clever and cunning and capable as he has ever been, but through years and years of reflection and the very difficult process of bettering himself, he decides he doesn’t want to go to the country’s greatest law school, or become judge thatcher’s apprentice, or president! he doesn’t feel the need for the same glory he used to!! he just wants to be with huck, and so they live in a humble house on the countryside, where they’re afforded some privacy.

he’s still himself, still a somewhat deeply flawed guy. but he’s trying to be better.

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

Fugitive Houseguest - Part 2

Summary: OC falls for Eddie. Vecna tries to end the world while the party looks to stop him.

F! OC. 8293 Words. 

Part 2 of 2. Part 1 can be found here.

Warnings: MAJOR ST spoilers ahead. Explicit sex scene in part 1 (Minors DNI.) There is also a hinted at sexual situation in part 2 in which OC is not in their right mind, which may make some uncomfortable. ST-esq violence. Slut-shaming (talking about that moment from volume 1, which was not okay.) Food eating mentions. Cursing.

Authors Note: This started as a simple bandaid to cope with Volume 4. Definitely got away from me lol. It’s a fix it fic y’all!! As such you’ll see pretty clearly where I took some…artistic license to make the OC more central to the story. I hate myself sometimes I swear but this fic practically wrote itself. 😂 Much as I love my reader inserts, I felt that the protagonist in this fic just had too many specific traits to NOT be an OC. Also, some hints of OC X Billy and maybe even OC X Steve if you squint. This is part 2 of 2, no further installments currently planned.

Also, I am always looking for inspo, so I will absolutely take requests for one-shots, blurbs, and head canons. If you don’t have an idea and just wanna chat, that’s cool too! I promise I won't bite.

“Amilia?” Steve calls out in a panic, suddenly grabbing and shaking her shoulders in the Upside Down.

“Hey! Hey! Stay with me. Amilia! Hey! Amilia, wake up. Wake up! Amilia!” He starts to shout.

Above him in the real world the party hears him screaming, understanding washing over them as Max realizes aloud. “Vecna.”

And Vecna it is - he appears, distorted fingers wrapped around Amilia’s throat. But he’s being surprisingly gentle - and then the hand isn’t his anymore, it’s Eddie’s.

Eddie’s hand is wrapped loosely around her throat, and he’s kissing her like he might never stop.

“Wait,” she says against his lips. “Wait.”

He pulls back to look at her, lips swollen and face flushed. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He shifts his weight, trying to get up.

She locks onto him, not letting him go. “No…no…it’s nothing.” She promised him, kissing him again. 

The brief moment of confusion - of dread - of feeling like something was very very wrong, had passed as quickly as it came on. Now she just knew she wanted him.

Back with her physical body, Steve’s words fall on deaf ears. “Just stay with me. Stay with me, okay?” He murmurs, panic starting to strike at his veins. “Whatever you guys are doing, hurry up!” Steve shouts up.

Erica bolts into Eddie’s bedroom. “Steve says you need to hurry!” 

“Yeah, no shit!” Dustin screeches back, Max adding hysterically, “We’re trying we can’t find anything!”

“Seriously, what is all this shit?!?” Robin snapped as she threw one cassette after another.

“I mean what are you even looking for?” Eddie asked, hands full of their discarded labels.

“Madonna? Blondie? Bowie? Beatles? Music! We need music!” Robin yelled.

Eddie snatched the Iron Maiden cassette from her hands. “This. Is. Music!” He screamed.

“You guys this is not the time!” Nancy shouted, “Eddie, the only two surviving victims of Vecna could hear their favorite songs being played and snapped out of it.”

“Well why did no one fucking say that!” He blurted, shoving Dustin out of the way while snapping, “Stop touching shit.” Muttering loudly about Madonna, and Beatles while he scrambled to produce his Blizzard of Ozz tape.

With shaking hands Eddie shoved the tape in his cassette player in his room, keying up the right track.

“All aboard!” Wailed through the room almost immediately.

The gang displayed varying levels of exasperation. “What the fuck-” someone started to say at the same time that someone else whined, “Eddie-”

“Just trust me okay!” He snarls, cranking the music all the way up, to that decibel that made the neighbors mad.

Down in the portal, Steve is struggling to keep Amilia from lifting up into the air, whimpers of “No no no no no no,” falling from his lips when she slips from his grasp.

She stops kissing Eddie at the sound of a familiar song, lifting her head again. He lets out a small noise of annoyance this time. “What’s wrong now?” His words are ice cold. Wrong. Distorted.

Ozzy Osborne plays in the background. He can’t seem to hear it.

She starts to shove him off of herself, scrambling from beneath him. “Get off! Off!” 

Eddie complies, scowling, and Amilia shoved past him and through the bedroom door, bursting through it only to land in a red hued wasteland, thunder crackling in the distance.

She turns and the door is gone, Eddie is gone. It’s just Vecna, slinking toward her.

She can hear it all now past the music, the hush that’s fallen over the group, Steve cursing, begging, and Eddie. She hones in on him, buried beneath the soundtrack. 

“Come on baby, come back to me.” He’s murmuring in frustration.

In her own mind, she dashed in the direction opposite of Vecna, making a mad sprint for her friends where she could hear them. Bolting for a glimpse of a portal where she can see them, see herself, hovering above Steve.

The song cascades over her, Vecna tossing all manner of debris in the way to try and slow her down. She dodges it all, thinking it’s metal as hell. 

Then she bursts through - sucking in a sharp breath, eyes flying open as she slams back into her own body, gravity suddenly assaulting her.

“Holy fuck!” Steve grunts, catching her, the sudden weight knocking them both to the floor, gasping.

Her whole body is trembling in his arms as he brushes her hair back from her face, saying her name.

“Hey…hey…hey…you’re okay.” He insists when she blinks at him in confusion, reality settling over her.

Then his tone is teasing. “Heavy metal, huh? Who knew.”

Eddie had known. Crazy Train is still blasting above the portal, drowned out by the sound of several people shouting, asking Amilia if she's okay.

“I’m good!” She yells up weakly, to the sound of resounding cheers. The music cuts off. Someone is commending Eddie for his quick thinking but he’s not really paying attention.

His neck is craned up towards the gateway to The Upside Down, anxious. “You wanna try the climb again, sweetheart?” She hears him call out softly.

Steve helps her up again, and soon she’s dropping down onto Eddie’s filthy mattress.

He reaches out to her immediately, pulling her up and into a crushing hug before grasping her chin in his hand and tilting it upwards so he could plant a passionate kiss on her lips.

“Woah now, when the hell did that happen?” Dustin complained while Erica gagged, the rest looking on with wide eyes.

The two pull apart as Steve drops down behind them, Nancy pulling him to his feet while ordering, “Never mind that. That music wasn’t exactly quiet, we need to get out of here.” 

The group reconvenes at Max’s trailer, careful that Eddie isn’t spotted.

Eddie doesn’t stop touching Amilia, the whole time holding her hand and pressing fingers into the vein of her wrist. Feeling her pulse thrum satisfies him that she’s here, she’s here and she’s alive. All in one piece.

At least, physically anyways. “I know what he wanted from me. Dustin and Nancy’s suspicions about the portals being at each murder site were right. He's killed three times now, and made three gates - I was meant to be the fourth.”

“Four chimes.” Max says suddenly, eyes going wide at the realization.. “Vecna's clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly.”

“I heard them too.” She tells her.

“He's been telling us his plan this whole time.” Max whispers.

“Four kills.” Lucas agrees. “Four gates…End of the world.”

Dustin’s hands are on his hips, voice somber. “If that's true…He's only one kill away.”

“Oh Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ.” Eddie panics, his grip tightening around Amilia.

Nancy stands, pacing. “We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down.” She tells all of them.

“Whoa, no, no, no.” Steve protests as Eddie shakes his head rapidly. “Nope. Nope.” He sides with Steve who jumps to his feet, adding. “Let's think this through.” 

“What is there to think through?” Nancy snaps.

“We barely made it out of there in one piece.” Steve argues back.

“Yeah, because we weren't prepared! But this time, we will be. We'll get weapons and protection. We'll go through the gate, we'll find his lair, and we'll kill him.” Nancy says with a confidence that’s inspiring - to a few.

“Or he'll kill us.” Steve scoffed. “He's not scared of us.”

Robin nods vigorously. “And for good reason. We were wrong about Vecna…Henry…One! Sorry, what are we calling him now?”

“One.” Dustin says at near the same time Erica says “Vecna.” Lucas agrees on “One,” and Nancy claimed “Henry.”

Robin nods rapidly. “Right. We've learned something new about Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One. He's a number like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin. But my…my point is, he's super powerful. Could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It's not a fair fight.” She panics.

“So then why fight fair?” Dustin points out. “You're right. He's like Eleven. But that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven's strengths, and weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?” Erica asks snarkily.

“When El remote-travels, she goes into this sort of trance-like state. I bet the same is true of Vecna.” Dustin explains.

“That would explain what he was doing in that attic.” Lucas blurts.

“Exactly. When he attacks his victim, I'll bet you he's back in that attic, physical body defenseless.” Dustin sounds practically giddy.

Steve almost rolls his eyes at that. “Defenseless? Yeah? What about the army of bats?” 

“Right. True. We'll have to find a way past them. Distract them somehow.” Dustin says like it’s no big deal.

Eddie starts to stand, “And, uh, how do we do that, exactly?”

“No idea.” Dustin’s words make Eddie sit back down. “But once they're gone, he doesn't stand a chance. It'll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”

“That all sounds good in theory, but there is no pattern to Vecna's killings. I mean at least not one that I can decipher.” Robin reminds everyone. “We don’t know where he’s going to attack next, we don’t know who he’s going to attack next-”

“Yeah we do.” Amilia blurts suddenly. A hush falls over the room, and she refuses to look at anyone. “I can still feel him.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Eddie prodded.

She glanced at Max. “Do you still have those drawings you made, of what you remember from before Vecna withdrew from you?”

Max nods, scrambling to find them. Ignoring the ones of the disassembled Creel house, she finds the drawing where two victims were suspended. 

In a mumble Max explained, “He’d strung up Chrissy and Patrick’s corpses to greet me.” 

“What’s going on with their faces? The expressions on their faces?” Amilia urges her, getting close enough to her that Lucas makes an involuntary step forward.

“Chrissy was…scared. Patrick was…furious.” Max admits.

She nods, suddenly standing, dictating to anyone. “Get me something to write with.”

Confused, Max complies. The group watches as Amilia turns the sheet over to its blank side and draws a large plus sign, with an arrowhead at the top tips of each line end.

Atop all but the top arrow, she writes emotions. To the left she writes Terror, with Rage to its right. Below the two, under the arrow pointing downwards, she writes Grief.

“When I was there Fred was with them. Vecna took him as a substitute for Max. He looked…Sad.” She explained, tapping the diagram.

“Why does that matter?” Max asked.

“Because I…when I passed them I could feel it. I could feel what they were feeling before they died. Chrissy was afraid. Patrick was angry. Fred felt…Fred felt how you had felt for Billy, only Fred didn’t have Kate Bush to snap him out of it.” She swallows. 

“And you? What were you feeling?” Erica asked.

A dreaded question. Amilia doesn’t want to tell them, but it’s burning her from the inside out. “I was happy.” She laughed bitterly, tears filling her eyes that she quickly brushed off with the back of her hand. “Can you believe that?”

“Happy? Happy we were leaving the Upside Down?” Robin questioned.

“Or happy we were in it to begin with, you goddamn weirdo.” Steve breathed tiredly, like he’d already accepted that.

She shakes her head rapidly, pressing her knuckles on both hands into her head. “No, no you don’t understand. It wasn’t…it wasn’t being in the Upside Down. Or escaping it.”

She drops her hands in defeat. While she’d figured it out, she wished she hadn’t. She doesn’t want to admit this right now.

“So what, what was it?” Lucas blurts.

“What the hell made you so happy that Vecna tried consuming you?” Nancy accused.

“It’s…it was Eddie.” She mumbles.

“Eddie?!?” Dustin blurts at the same time that the man’s eyebrows shoot up. “Me?”

“I…can I talk to you, alone for a second?” She whispers, her face flushed.

“Guys, we don’t have time for this.” Nancy argues. “You need to be straight up with us.”

She looks at the floor, not wanting to do this with an audience. “I was climbing the rope. You were smiling at me, and I had just heard your breathless little mutter of how fun it was. And I think, when I dropped through the portal that, that was the moment…And I think I fell in love with you, right there.”

The room goes dead silent.

Eddie stands, his body rigid and tone hushed as he asks. “You love me?”

She nods shamefully. He opens his mouth, nothing comes out.

Robin takes the pen - adds a word to the final arrow jutting from the diagram: Ecstasy. 

Amilia can’t even look at Eddie. He stares at her. She explains, “This is why I became the last piece of the puzzle. Because that…feeling was the hardest to find. It’ll be the hardest to replicate, and so now that he’s found it, he isn’t letting go. I-I can still feel him. I'm still marked.”

She heaves a deep sigh, telling them all her plan. “So that’s why I ditch Ozzy, I draw his focus back to me.”

“No!” Eddie blurts.

“You can't.” Steve agrees. “He'll kill you.”

She vehemently disagrees. “I survived before. I can survive again. I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic…Then you can chop his head off or whatever it takes.”

“We’re not doing that.” Eddie growls.

“It’s only a matter of time before he gets me, anyway.” She tried to explain.

Eddie’s eyes are burning. “I’ll tear him apart limb from limb before I ever let that happen.”

“Eddie,” Dustin protests. “She’s got a point.”

“No!” He wailed. “There has to be another way.”

“I say we vote.” Erica says, rationally.

“This isn’t a fucking democracy!” Eddie growls.

“And you don’t own her just because she happens to love you, you stupid freak!” Erica shouts back.

“So we vote.” Nancy insists, cutting between the two.

“We vote.” Lucas agrees, arms crossed across his chest.

“All in favor?” Amilia asked, watching as Nancy, Dustin, Lucas, Erica, and her all raise their hands.

“That’s five for, four against. You guys are outnumbered.” Dustin pityingly tells Eddie, Robin, Max, and Steve, all with their own reasons for doubting the plan.

Still it’s Eddie it hurts. He makes a move to storm out of the trailer, realizes he can’t, and then storms into the closest room he can, slamming the door shut.

“We need to get supplies.” Nancy explains, looking at Amilia sadly. And to be pitied by Nancy Wheeler….well, that was a new low for her.

“Do you think you can get him on board?” Steve asks.

“I’ll try my best.” She sighs, heading off where he went.

When she enters the room Eddie is sitting on the bed. His head is buried in his hands, his whole body practically vibrating with anger at this latest development.

Amilia’s not sure if she should touch him or not, not wanting to feel the cold brush of his rejection after her confession.

But Eddie surprises her, head still downed when he hears her enter, not having to look to know who’s coming after him. He reaches one hand out and wiggles his ringed fingers in her direction. “Come here.” He orders.

She takes a step forward, close enough for him to slip his hand into hers, pulling her down and into his lap, face buried in her neck.

The two sit that way for a while, until Eddie finally sighs in reluctant acceptance. “I guess there’s no changing your mind.” 

“None.” She agreed.

Eddie tries to smile, stroking his fingers along the length of her arm. “I don’t know…I think I can be pretty persuasive.” He teases lightly, pressing an attentive kiss to her neck that makes her clench her thighs together.

“There are children here.” She warns him lightly.

“Don’t care.” He jokes, then lets out a little chuckle in wonder. “…God, what are you doing to me?” He asks rhetorically before he lays her down, kissing her all over.

“Still not going to change my mind.” She insists, unconvincingly. 

Eddie chuckles. “At least let me try…I’d like to think my persuasive skills go beyond just making you fall for me despite all the obvious red flags.”

She stiffens beneath him, swallowing tightly. “Eddie…I…I’m sorry.” Tears threaten to spill once again. Tears of embarrassment and shame. 

“Don’t be. I’m not.” He promises, wiping them away, letting out a frustrated breath. “Look, I may not exactly be right where you are, like emotionally, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” He nuzzled her cheek with his. “I’m - I’m not willing to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me. I know you won’t. We’re gonna get through this.” She insists, hoping she can get him on board. She doesn’t want to do this without him.

He doesn’t say anything in response, and so she runs her hands through his long hair with a soft hum. “And then, after that, I am going to make you fall so in love with me that you’ll have no choice but to realize that I am always right.”

Eddie rumbles with laughter, pulling her in closer. “Sounds like a plan.”

She gripped his chin in her hand, the same way he’d done earlier with his kiss. She makes him look at her, murmuring softly. “We need you right now, Eds. Don’t check out on us again.” Then she kisses his cheek, and leads him out the room.

Eddie vows then and there that he’s going to give them all every advantage he can, rummaging around before smacking down the yellow pages to show the group.

“Check this out. The War Zone - I've been there once. It's huge. They got everything you need for, uh... well, killing things, basically.” He smiles cheekily.

“You think fake Rambo has enough guns there?” Robin asks, pointing to the ad. “Is that a grenade? I mean, how is any of this legal?”

“Well, lucky for us it is, so…” Eddie snipes. “This...This place is just far enough outside of Hawkins. As long as we steer clear of main roads, we oughta be able to avoid cops and, uh, angry hicks.”

Erica glares at Eddie. “If we're trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn't go to some store called ‘The War Zone.’” 

“Normally, I'd agree, but we need the weapons. So I think it's worth the risk.” Nancy responds.

“Me too.” Lucas agrees. 

“But is it worth the time? It'll take all day to bike there and back.” Dustin points out. 

“Who said anything about bikes?” Eddie asks plainly. 

“What you got some sort of car we don't know about?” Steve prods.

Eddie stands up straighter, head tilted to the side. “It's not exactly a car, Steve. And it's not exactly mine, but, uh... it'll do.” His eyes land on the rest of the group as he asks Max. “Hey, Red, uh, you got a ski mask or a bandanna, something like that?”

Max finds the Michael Meyers mask she wore for Halloween in 84’, and with that obscuring his identity Eddie leads the group of kids through the trailer park.

They arrive at one of the mobile homes, Eddie opening a rear window and sinking inside of it. He drops down inside the RV, complaining lightly as he sheds the mask. “That was suffocating.” He grumbles.

He moves to the front of the vehicle, locking the door as the rest of the kids pour in behind him.

Then he drops down into the driver's seat, pliers in his teeth as he makes quick work of the wires under the dash.

“Where'd you learn how to do this?” Steve asks, concerned.

“Well, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire.” He laments. “Now, I swore to myself I wouldn't wind up like he did, but now I'm wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh, I'm really living up to that Munson name.”

Robin approached the two as Amilia was in the back, getting all the kids through and into the vehicle.

“Uh Eddie, I'm not sure I love the idea of you driving.” She protests.

“Oh, I'm just starting this ‘sucker. Harrington's got her. Don't ya, big boy?” He winks as the engine fires up.

The couple that owns the trailer starts screaming at the sound of backfire alerting them, banging on the doors and sides 

“Everybody, hang on to something!” Steve yells. 

As the RV swung wildly in Steve’s attempts to evade their pursuers and leave the trailer park behind, Eddie practically fell into Amilia’s lap at the back, smiling wildly at her.

“I don’t know how you could possibly think that you have any red flags.” She says sarcastically, as Eddie laughs.

Later he waits in the RV with Dustin, Lucas, and her - all those who really need to avoid being seen. As they do,  the rest of the group pours into The War Zone. The place is packed, and Robin mutters, “So much for avoiding angry hicks.”

“Let’s be…fast.” Nancy agrees.

That conviction is further enforced when Jason and his crew show up, clearly gathering weapons in their hunt for Eddie.

After barely avoiding a confrontation, the rest of them all file back into the RV, Erica announcing to her brother “Your old friends are here!” In explanation of Steve peeling away.

The group reconvenes off the main roads, parking in a large field and splitting into small groups to ready their weapons. 

Steve drops down beside Amilia where she’s lost in her song again, playing on cassette. 

He taps her shoulder gently, telling her when she moves the headphone down, “Got you something.” 

Then he hands over a shopping bag with her prize already sticking out of it.

“You shouldn’t have.” She says, but pulls the gift out anyway, smiling to herself.

“It’s kinda like the one you lost, right?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

She nods, unsheathing the machete from its holster and kissing the blade. 

During the two’s last interaction with the supernatural, she had certainly lost a similar one in the hide of a monster. She’d grumbled about it more than once.

“I know it won’t exactly help with what you're about to do but…I couldn’t just leave it behind.” He explains. Amilia stands and gives him a big hug, the weapon still held securely in her grasp.

“Listen, Steve...I promised Eddie we’re going to get through this, but I have this terrible gnawing feeling that it might not work out for us this time.” She says it so quietly he can barely hear.

“Why vote for this then? Why risk it?” He doesn’t understand.

“If we don’t stop him, who will?” She asks, and then sighs. “I mean we have to try, right?” 

She watches across the field as Eddie wrestles around with Dustin. Steve watches the interaction also, his jealousy of their camaraderie long since ebbed at the sight. He took comfort knowing that Dustin thought he was a badass.

“I won’t make you promise for if anything should happen to me. I know you’ll look after them.” She chuckled.

Steve swallows. “I will.” Then she offers him a more personal smile, tapping the corner of his chin gently with a closed fist.

When night begins to fall, it’s time for everyone to take their places. Amilia heads into the Creel house with the Sinclairs and Max.

The rest of the team heads into the Upside Down where they intend to split.

Steve gathers Eddie and Dustin, Amilia’s words ringing in his mind. “Hey, guys, listen. If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort. Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep 'em busy for a minute or two. We'll take care of Vecna. Don't try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just…”

“Decoys.” Dustin and Steve say simultaneously. “Don't worry. You can be the hero, Steve.” Dustin adds with a smile. 

“Absolutely. I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.” Eddie indicated their pitiful selves.

Steve nods, turning to go.

Eddie calls out after him. “Hey Steve?” He steps forward, voice low with fervor. “Make him pay.”

Back in Hawkins the four who stayed behind use the lanterns as they walk throughout the Creel house. 

Eddie and Dustin fortify Eddie’s trailer in The Upside Down. “…Now for the fun part.” Eddie grins, as they head into the trailer, to his room.

“Jesus Chr…It’s like she was destined for an alternate dimension.” He picks up his guitar with utmost care. “What do you say Henderson? Are you ready for the most ‘metal concert in the history of the world?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Dustin grins cheekily. 

Eddie grins back, slinging the guitar over his back. “Let’s do it.”

Erica is the one who finds Vecna, heading to the playground in order to alert the group members in the upside down once it’s time for phase two.

Amilia heads into the room where the lantern flickers with Vecna’s presence. She turns her music off, and starts to call out to Vecna.

He takes the bait, so Dustin and Eddie initiate phase three.   

A distraction in the form of Master of Puppets extends through the far reaches of the Upside Down, and draws the demo bats away from Vecna’s lair so Nancy, Robin, and Steve can approach it.

Amilia, deep in her mind, travels back through good memories…Billy Hargrove flirting with her shamelessly on Halloween, offering her his Terminator jacket when her gold bikini did nothing against the cold, never mind that it left him shirtless…A flurry of tattoo appointments, only trusting one man to get the job done, and him frequently asking her to recreate handwriting for him on stencils, since she could forge down to the letter…Telling Steve and Robin a story where she’d waited an unrealistic amount of time to exhale smoke while getting high with a friend. Laughing as she’d explained that said friend's mom had come into the room, and they’d not wanted to get themselves caught.

She needs to avoid the memories so sweet she could get lost in them. So she heads for something different, something muted.

Starcourt Mall.

Johnathan is attempting to cut the writhing chunk of the Mind Flayer out of El. Amilia watches in horror in the memory, biting down on her fist.

Then the bodies in that memory fade, and she’s left with only the location. So she flees the scene, heading deeper into the fabrication in order to hide from Vecna.

She finds a store with a cracked gate, sliding under it and pulling it down, sealing herself inside.

She had no way of knowing how long she hid. But eventually footsteps fall nearby, alerting her to another presence.

“You can't hide from me…You think I don't see what you're doing? You think I don't see…everything? You thought you could trick me? You thought your friends could stop me? I see them. I see your friends. Just as clearly as I see you. I can feel them. I can feel them dying.”

He shows it to her - shows her Erica running through the woods, a basketball player tackling and choking her until her eyes bug out…Jason shooting Max and Lucas…Steve and Nancy and Robin being engulfed by vines…and Eddie…Eddie’s throat is slashed open by one of the bats swarming him.

Amilia flinches away from it - and suddenly he’s there. He’s there and his hands are on her - and no no no no no, that’s where Vecna wants her to go.

A weapon. She needs a weapon. She runs to the memory of a weapon.

Eddie and Dustin are roughhousing in the field. Dustin has just made a terrible pun. Eddie makes him promise to never change.

The field is empty now, so she runs and drops to her knees in the grass where she and Steve stood, and grabs it, the machete.

Vecna is right behind her.

Amilia slices and hacks at him when he’s too close. When she hits flesh, he cries out.

“Enough!” He snarled.

He snatches the weapon from her hands with vines that snake up, coiling around her and holding her down. She thrashes wildly against them, to no avail. 

Hoping that she’s buying time.

Vecna’s disgusting hand wraps around her face, as he shoves her down through the earth. Despite the sensation of the vines, she’s falling.

Down, down, down…memories turned to pulp in his wake. And then she slams down onto a bed - her bed. She’s in her room.

Eddie is there too. He’s grinning at her, long hair falling down to curtain either side of her face.

Her brain is fuzzy. She’s drunk off him, intoxicated, when his tongue plays lazily with hers.

Something was wrong. It shouldn’t feel like this. Nothing should feel this good. 

Outside the memory, Vecna still has Amilia in the field. His hand stretches out toward her, ready to complete his work.

Her eyes roll back in her head in The Upside Down too, and he smiles at his impending victory.

Until one sharp yank sends him flying away from her.

Her eyes come into focus, and she gasps, suddenly and jarringly back in the field. Scrambling to her feet, she sees an old friend - Eleven, with Vecna suspended in the air.

“You.” He snarls at her.

“Hi.” She says back, tossing him through the walls of the RV Eddie had stolen however long before.

Then she rushes to the other girls side. “Amilia, are you okay?” Eleven asks her .

“Huh?” She blinks.

“Are you okay?” She repeats.

“Yeah.” She nods slowly. “Are you - are you real? Did I make you?” She whispers in confusion.

“I’m real.” She promised, turning abruptly at the sound of Vecna, climbing out of the hole El had made with him.

“Stay back.” She orders before tossing Amilia the machete with her mind and walking towards Vecna, who is fuming. Tendrils of fire and smoke curl around the edges of her memory.

Vecna gets the advantage over the two after a harrowing battle, pinning Eleven down and coming for Amilia. She defends herself as best she can, but El, tossed into a dark corner of reality, can hear her screaming.

Her body rises in the real world, and he makes Eleven listen to the sound of bones snapping, one arm bending in places it isn’t supposed to. 

Eleven screeches at that, throwing him back with everything she has.

The end of phase 4 commences simultaneously - while El takes Vecna down in Amilia’s mind, Steve tosses a Molotov cocktail at his physical body. Then Robin tosses another. And Nancy shoots him several times for good measure.

His body flies right through the Creel house, hitting the ground in The Upside Down.

Amilia hits the ground in the real world, sobbing. A clock chimes four times.

The earth splits open.

Amilia’s blinking headily against the blurred sight of Lucas - Max - Erica - Eleven? Then she slips away.

When she opens her eyes she’s in the hospital, no sense of how long it’s been.

There’s a cast on her arm. The kids have all signed it. Steve, Nance, Robin. They all must have made it out. Vecna’s visions weren’t true.

Still there’s one name missing.

She bolts upwards, startling the person in a chair beside her. He jumps to his feet.

“Harrington?” She questions groggily.

He rushes to her side. “Hey! Hey you’re okay.”

“What’s going on? What happened?” She clenched her fist, crying out.

Steve makes her smooth out her fingers, chastising her. Then his voice broke. “What happened? You died, Amilia.”

“Then why am I alive?” She responds.

“Something - Eleven - we’re not really sure. But you were dead, your death opened Vecna’s portal into The Upside Down. He accomplished what he wanted.” 

“Oh no,” she whispers, thinking she had failed. 

Steve grasps her good hand, “Never mind that. You made it. That’s all that matters.” But he can’t meet her eyes.

She grows stiff, blood leaving her face. “Is everyone okay?”

He stalls. “There was an earthquake. We don’t know what this means. Vecna’s body was - it was gone.”

“Steve.” She says firmly. “Is everyone okay?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “For the most part. Eddie…Eddie deviated from the plan. He tried to take on the swarm of demo-bats to buy us more time. He was injured pretty badly. And with the allegations, we couldn’t take him to a hospital like we did you.”

“Oh god.” Tears fill her eyes. “Tell me he’s gonna be alright.”

“He’s spent every bandage change threatening to kill us, so I think it’s safe to say that he’s gonna pull through.”

She feels like she can breathe, really breathe, for the first time. Steve nods a bit. “I mean the guy has grown on me but he’s gotten on all of our last nerves lately. Makes us watch you in shifts, give him reports on you - when quite frankly you've been comatose for two days. Not much to say! …He’s gonna be so happy when I eventually tell him you’re awake.”

“Eventually?” She starts to raise her voice - a barrage of Spanish protests.

“English.” Steve scolds. “I’m sorry but it’s gotta be that way. We're trying to get him to stay put. If we tell him you’re conscious then he’s gonna bolt right over here and land himself in a jail cell.”

That did sound like him. She almost laughed. “Fine. As soon as possible then.”

It ended up being the next day. Amilia signed herself out Against Medical Advisement in the late afternoon, headed home to Eddie.

Steve had let all the kids know she was getting out, and everyone planned to come over later, after giving the two a few hours of privacy. 

Steve dropped her off at the house she’d been driven from only days ago, and she headed inside. As the front door opens she can hear Eddie calling from her bedroom.

“You better have my fucking Yoo-hoos and Honeycomb cereal or I’m going to lose it.” He grumbles.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Amilia says. As she rounds the corner Eddie sees her, scrambling to his feet. 

“Amilia.” he breathes. She takes him in, eyeing the bandages that wrap around pretty much the whole extent of his right side, then down on his lower left. He’s got some smaller ones scattered on both arms, and his face.

“Shit, Eddie.” She whispers, good hand clenching and unclenching.

“Looks a lot worse than it is.” He promised, pulling her in with no regard for his own comfort, kissing her forehead. 

Then his hands brush against the hard plaster of her cast, a frown on his face. “He got way too close to you. I should have been there.”

“The plan needed you to be somewhere else. It wouldn’t have mattered.” She assures him. He doesn’t like that answer. It sounds like a reflex. He suspects she’s not been honest with him in a way, this whole time. Telling him whatever it takes.

“Don’t do that.” He pleads.

Amilia can’t help but to be relieved at the instruction, lightly brushing against the bandage covering a portion of his chin. “…I saw the bats kill you.” She whispers. 

“I know that it wasn’t real, that Vecna wanted to break me. Wanted me to give in to everything he wanted me to see and welcome the death of it all…but in that moment it was so real and I just…I…I love you, Eddie. And you don’t need to feel the same right now or even ever, but you do need to know that it’s how I felt when I fell through that portal…and for every scar and broken bone, I love you.”

Eddie’s gaze is soft, lips turned up at the corners as his shy voice leaks through. “…Be my girl?”

A nod, and he kisses her eagerly.

Then she pulls away, raising a brow. “Yoo-hoos and honeycomb cereal?” She teases.

He makes a face. “I know. I’ve been really suffering without your home cooking. Never leave me again.”

She laughs and promises. 

A few hours later when the house is full of familiar faces, the party recounts the war, sharing stories.

Now that the world is saved - for now - they all wrack their brains trying to think of ways to clear Eddie’s name. 

Easier said than done, since the biggest claim to his innocence is that Chrissy was actually murdered by an interdimensional being.

The answer comes when the group gets to another part of the story - the part explaining why Lucas’ face is all swollen. Swollen from fist fighting Jason Carver. 

“Jason?” Amilia repeats in worried confusion.

“The prick found us while you were in with Vecna.” Max explained.

“Lucas knocked him out cold and then he was in the perfect place to die when the earthquake hit.” Erica explains.

“Fucking poetic.” Robin grumbles.

Suddenly, abruptly, Amilia stands, grabbing her keys. Eyes go wide around the room.

“Where are you going?” Eddie protests, trying to come after her.

“To clear your name - possibly commit a felony.”  She says it casually, Steve is already on board and holding the door open for her as the others protest behind her.

Too late.

The two of them head out into the night, with Steve asking for her to clue him in. Once she does so, he makes a firm vow to never cross her.

That night the two of them do a lot of breaking and entering. The final stop is in Jason Carver’s room to plant evidence - trophies, from each kill. 

A lock of Chrissy’s hair that Amilia snipped off at the morgue. Patrick’s jacket, stolen from evidence - that one he had shed initially for the swim into Lover’s Lake. Fred’s journaling pad that he’d had last time he was with Nancy, left in her car.

All of it she had taken, hiding it very poorly beneath Jason’s bed in a box.

And since she’s an overachiever, she also gets a small journal, where ‘Jason’ details his homicidal rage. She forges his handwriting perfectly, checking it against the school papers in his backpack. 

Then she manages to scrounge up a yearbook of Jason’s from her senior year when Jason was a sophomore.

She flips to a page in it with Eddie’s club - his first senior year, the year she had graduated - wondering how she had missed him all that time - and admiring his cute face before drawing a big, blood red pentagram right over it. 

She cuts images out of each of the murder victims, Chrissy, then Patrick, then Fred, saving herself for last. His next intended victim. 

These images are pasted in the journal, one to a page. Then Amilia tosses the yearbook somewhere convenient.

She slips the journal under Jason’s pillow, and high tails it out of there.

Then she makes Steve take her to the police station, playing the supportive friend who convinces the victim to come forward.

And she sells the hell out of the lie that Jason tried to kill her before the earthquake took him out.

From which point Amilia had stumbled into the streets, fainting. Saved by the Sinclairs and Max who were at the playground nearby.

The police were already mildly suspicious of Jason after his story about Eddie being a vessel for Satan and her being some kind of bride of Dracula who had done something to the lemonade - which they had tested - finding only sugar, lemons, and water.

So she helped them along to the conclusion that makes the most sense.

Some of them go to Jason’s - finding exactly what she’d intended for them to find. Though they don’t tell her, she can feel the shift in the narrative.

They’re much gentler - even though they don’t let Eddie off the hook so easily. Not that Amilia wasn’t expecting it. They ask her if she knows where he is, and they bring him in.

He'd been filled in by then - and so he came prepared. He shows up, hiding his injuries as much as possible, and tells a watered down version of the truth - that he found Chrissy’s body in his trailer and he ran, horrified. He knew how it looked.

He puts on a dramatic show in true Eddie fashion - wanting it on record that if the police were left to their own devices, Jason would have gotten away with it. “And my girlfriend would have been one of his mangled victims!” He smacks his hands onto the table theatrically.

The police have the good sense to be embarrassed. They hold Eddie only for a few more hours, at which point they’ve got more than enough to convict Jason.

They release a statement. His body is found where Amilia had said it was, and quietly buried. The reality of what she wanted them to see shakes the whole town. 

The news runs coverage on it for a whole week, and after the coverage is widespread Eddie tentatively returns to life as it was. 

Well, almost. 

Eddie’s uncle had been relocated by government agents when the portal first started to show. Now that there was actually a gaping mess through the trailer, Eddie couldn’t exactly go back there.

So more often than not, he makes himself at home at Amilia’s.

She cooks, he does the dishes. The two plan for the future in between it all.

Haunted by the thought of losing Eddie, she’s happy to just get the hell out of Hawkins now. But Eddie is determined to graduate. After that, he promises, the two of them can go anywhere she wants. 

What she wants, she tells him, is to go somewhere where they can leave the monsters behind. Eddie makes promises.

For now though the pair stay put, and even work with the others on trying to put the world back together. 

But that’s another story…

The days turn into months, and June arrives. With it, Eddie’s big day.

As he walks the stage at graduation, he can hear the small cluster of his friends - and his small family- cheering louder than the muted clapping from a town that still has him labeled a freak and probably always will. 

His uncle Wayne is the only one mortified rather than proud, when he keeps true to his word and flips off the principal. 

“I couldn’t ask him not to do it. It was three years in the making.” Amilia tells the older man.

He smiles fondly at her.

Of all the terrible things to come out of the last few months, Amilia was not one of them.

Wayne saw how she kept his nephew on the straight and narrow, while also keeping Wayne in his temporary housing supplied with home cooking and baked goods. It was no wonder his nephew loved her.

Sure, he hadn’t said as much, but Wayne knew. He could see it in the way he looked at her.

When he makes the two of them pose for pictures, he can’t help but to snap one of Eddie’s soft gaze when Amilia isn’t paying attention, and knows it’s only a matter of time before he tells her so.

After photos, while wearing Robin’s hat, Steve excitedly tells them all, “After party at my place!”

Most agree to go - only Nancy, Johnathan and Wayne opting out of it, the former celebrating privately, and the latter leaving early to get to work. 

From there it’s the kids, Steve’s pool, the cheap beers he swaps out in favor of his parents' good stuff because why not, it’s a special occasion.

And to top off the celebration, Eddie gets absolutely wasted. Like to the point of needing help taking his clothes off. There’s no chance of getting him upstairs, so Amilia and Steve help him cozy up on the living room couch.

“Tell me again?” he slurs, voice whiny and desperate as he stops her from tucking him in, Steve off to fetch some water.

“Again?” She asks in bewilderment.

He nods vigorously, a pout on his lips. “I need to hear you say it.”

She smiles at him, leaning down and pressing little kisses to the corner of his jaw, the scarring there. “I love you.” She whispers in promise against his skin.

Eddie nearly sags in relief. “Fuuuck, that’s so good. I don’t deserve you baby.”

“You’re cute, Eds.” She chuckles, batting his hands away when he tries to pull her down into him.

“No…come on, I mean it.” He complains. “You’re the best girl in this whole town, the whole universe. How the hell did I get so lucky?”

A small shrug, Eddie laughs. “I’m gonna give you everything, you know? Buy you one of those big houses the fleeing townsfolk left behind when this place got cursed.” He chortles. “Snatch it right up while the property values are shit…Probably the only way I’d be able to give you the kinda place a girl like you deserves.” 

Amilia’s eyes widened in surprise.  

Stay? She didn’t realize he might want to stay when the talks they’d had were always about leaving. 

That wasn’t the plan…and yet…

And yet she knew she would, for him. Would even fight monsters again. All for him.

For now though, she laughs non-committedly. “Eddie I don’t need all that, just you.”

“And you’ll have me!” He swears. “I’m never going away. I’m gonna stick right by you and however many babies you’ll let me put in you.” A cocky smirk, like he was already thinking about the process.

“Eddie!” She gasps, smacking him playfully.

Steve returns with the water, insisting Eddie drink it. He pouts but does so, grumbling at Steve, “Hate you.” 

“No you don’t.” Steve chuckles, making sure Amilia’s okay with the hot mess before heading upstairs to go to bed.

Eddie clings to her side, babbling about a future for the two of them that’s much more conventional than the one they’d been planning.

Amilia hides when she starts to tear up. This poor man, who’d been through so much, here in his drunken truth, wanted nothing but some stability. Normalcy. Like everyone else got to have.

And damn if she wasn’t going to be the one to make sure of it for him.

She tries to come up with a way to make that clear…and a week later she has it, executing her plan with some help from uncle Wayne.

Leaving before Eddie wakes up, Amilia employs all of her friends' help as they raid the Munson trailer, loading up all of Eddie’s belongings into her car. Everything he owns.

(She’d cleared some of the more incriminating things out beforehand - handcuffs, sexy magazines, condoms she tucks in her pocket for…safekeeping.)

When she returns to her place with it all, Eddie meets her outside, antsy because she’s been gone all day.

“There’s my girl,” Eddie grins, opening the door for Amilia as she steps out, taking in her packed car. “What’s uh…what’s all this?”

“Your stuff.” She says innocently, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

Eddie blinks in surprise, voice slightly higher in pitch. “Are we…are we hitting the road already?” 

“Actually um, I thought maybe we could stay for a bit.” She confesses, looking at her shoes so she doesn’t have to see his expression as she continues.

“I…I know my place isn’t exactly one of the huge houses collecting dust on Maple street right now…but um, I think we can make it a home - at least for now. Add your things in with mine.”

Eddie is silent.

She flushes, still unable to look at him, worrying her lower lip - and then the gravel crunches as he inches closer to her, tilting her head up by her chin to make her meet his gaze. His eyes are soft.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” He grins. 

She huffs. “Yeah, Munson, I thought that was obvious.”

He laughs, swearing as he lets her face go, only to grab her hand. “We don’t have to stay. I would follow you anywhere, woman.” 

“I know you would. The thing is…I don’t need you to. I think I was just scared before…scared to lose you, and I convinced myself that it would be safer to run away from here and drag you with me…But that’s not what you want. And I couldn’t bear to take you from everything you’ve ever known on the chance that the world is safer outside Hawkins.” She tells him, squeezing his palm.

“Fuck” Eddie blurts, squeezing her hand in his in response. “I love you.” 

Her eyes widen, he can’t help but to smile so wide that it hurts. “I really love you. You are…you are everything to me. I’m sorry that I haven’t told you that before. Shit, it’s long overdue I just…”

“I love you too.” She cuts him off.

Eddie beams, leans down and kisses her before picking her up off the ground, carrying her into the house bridal style, boots kicking open the front door.

“Eddie!” She squeals in protest, trying not to laugh. “You need to unpack the car!”

“Not just yet, baby, I’m the man of this house now and I say no unpacking until we’ve christened every room in this place.” He snickers.

He carries her back to their room, depositing her on their bed just so he can make sure to do everything in his power to let her know that she’s his and he’s hers. 

For however long she’ll have him.