#and maybe that cop with cow eyes

[tarlosmalec]

Hi.

You’re TK.

I’m Carlos.

Marry me.

It’s not drama.

It’s love.

The kind that you can’t get away from.

The love that I feel is infinitely more powerful than the power of losing it.

I’m not going anywhere.

I’m right here.

And we’re soulmates.

[alchemistc]

Married In Vegas Interlude: The Patio

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

"I miss you," Evan says, strain in his voice, around his eyes. "I went out with a guy the other night and he said movies are for the weak-minded."

Evan always fell asleep halfway through movies. Not enough stimulation, so Tommy had started massaging his leg, tossing a nerf ball back and forth, asking Evan to paint his toenails. He's got a knitting for beginners kit sitting at the bottom of his mud room ottoman because that had been his next attempt to keep him entertained enough to make it through a single theater run-time Lord of the Rings.

"I hired a Taskrabbit to box up all your things because every time I saw them I wanted to call you," Tommy admits.

"Even the -?"

"That too," Tommy interrupts, and Evan scowls.

"You always do that."

"Anticipate what you're doing to say?"

"Never let me finish."

Tommy can't help himself: "I don't recall that ever being a problem." The first time Tommy had found his prostate he'd made noise like a dying cow and Tommy had been worried his neighbors would call the cops and a station they both knew would show up just in time for Tommy to drown in a puddle of Evan's cum.

Evan kicks at his leg. "We never talked about the things we did that irritated each other."

Tommy gets both calves wrapped around the offending ankle and holds them in place, hovering above the cheap and patchy artificial turf.

"Like you always pretending you couldn't overpower me if you tried?" he asks, and Evan bends his knees and hooks his toe and if Tommy didn't let the hold go they'd both end up in the ER tonight.

"Like turning the thermostat in the loft down every night when you snuck down for water after you thought I was passed out."

"You have fifty blankets within arms reach up there," Tommy argues, and something satisfied sparks behind Evan's eyes. Was he not supposed to cop to that?

"You flirt with my barista every time you wake up early to buy me coffee at the cafe downstairs," Evan says.

"Tawny is basically my barista at this point, she never saw you." It's been six months. Tawny is definitely not his barista, anymore

"Maybe I wanna be the one who wakes up early and treats you, every once in a while." Which makes Tommy snort, and tip his beer against his lips to drain the rest before he digs in the bucket for another.

"You're the biggest pillow princess I've ever met," he snaps, and then amends his statement. "That isn't one of the irritations," he says, softer. When he drops his free hand on the table, Evan snatches at it, fingers stretching over the back of it before twisting Tommy's wrist to reveal his palm. He does that thing that always made Tommy a little boneless: fingernails snagging on Tommy's calluses as he traces the patterns on his palm, up the lengths of his fingers. "I like taking care of people. You. I like taking care of you."

He curls his fingers in to catch his movements on a downward drag, slides them into the empty spaces between Evan's and presses their palms together. It's silent. Tommy feels heated, and he's not sure he can blame the three straight whiskeys he'd pounded back when he'd caught sight of the breadth of Evan's back, assumed it was a stranger, and thought to himself: I deserve to be haunted by this ghost.

"Can we please talk, Tommy? For real?"

Tommy pulls another beer from his bucket and passes it off to Evan. "I miss you too, Evan."

Evan drags his chair half an inch closer and beams.

[emmanuellececchi]

Christmas story - Hallmark style

So here is the "Faramir in a mall looking for a last minute gift"

So here me out (now that I see it!)

So Faramir is tired, it's the end of the day and he has to find a gift for a girl his father is presenting to him. Now that his brother has gone live the good life with his boyfriend (and thus facing the wrath of their father), Faramir is left the unwilling heir of their father company. And the Valars know his father and him do not see eye to eye.

But, in the hope of bringing some peace in this season of festivities, Faramir decided to accept his father tentative "matchmaking". but he's not happy.

So here he is, in the escalator, trying to think of something. Then, he arrives in front of a shop where a young woman is pushing a guy out. The guy is visibly angry and Faramir feels the need to come and help... until he realized the girl has no need of his help.

The guy leaves after a mall cop comes by, called by the owner of the shop. Now Faramir is standing in front of the shop, feeling awkward. And not wanting to see the beautiful young woman looks at him angry, he decides to go into the shop.

To realize it's a shop for all things horse and cow-boy. And he has no idea what to do with that. The girl is nice, as all vendors are, and seeing his face, she asks if she can help.

Faramir, feeling more and more the fool, and not helped by the beautiful girl's eyes, nods and follows her around.

---

Eowyn is tired, exhausted and frustrated. days spent working on the farm, taking care of everything while his uncle is healing. Even now with her brother back, most of the time she has to do it all by herself.

At least, Taking the guy's out helped her let go of some steam but she was glad Ioreth took care of calling the guard. Eowyn does not like to make a scene. Then there is this guy who looks like he's a rabbit in a lamp light. All frozen and shy. At least he's cute.

And then he begins to speak about his brother and his brother in law who owns a horse farm and how he would like to find something for them both, to celebrate their new life. She hears the longing and for a moment, she wonders if it could be possible that his brother and her cousin...? no, that would be really weird.

---

They speak and chat and Ioreth is waiting patiently, but now it's time for her to close the shop. She offers to Eowyn to close behind her and to Faramir to stay a bit while she "officially" close. Eowyn will balance the account in the morrow. Ioreth leaves with a smile, hoping her hunch is a good one and that Eowyn will keep this beautiful smile she hadn't seen for a while.

---

Now they have all the time in the world. They spent the evening in the shop, talking: family, missed opportunity, and so on. Eowyn orders some sandwiches and they pick-nick in an empty alley.

---

Faramir ends buying something. For Eowyn. Not in this shop. But for their first date. Not with his father. And not in a fancy restaurant.

---

Eowyn will not spend Christmas with her uncle and brother and cousin. She will leave for an unplanned vacation in a cottage where Faramir and her will go fishing on ice, read books, ride horses and just spent the best time in the world.

---

Denethor will send the very unhappy girl away, thinking that, maybe, if both his sons are leaving his side, he might have something to do with it (Yeah I know, Christmas Miracle).

Théoden and Eomer are a bit disappointed that Eowyn won't be there (she cooks so beautifully) and a bit worry. But still happy that she might have find a good guy. (Eomer still want to meet the guy even after what Boromir told him).

Boromir and Theodred are just smiling to each other, thinking they might join the new couple, after a few days. To let all the drama behind them.... and to keep an eye of thing. Just in case.

The end.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Chad defending you from a guy who touched his girl at halloween party. I love protective boyfriend chad!

This was in my drafts and I forgot to post it...oops

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Chad wasn’t the jealous type. He was protective and liked to show others that you were together in every small way possible — wearing his Blackmore hoodie on game days, having subtle matching things like shirts or jewelry, setting a cute selfie of you two as his phone background, resting his hand on a part of your body in casual intimacy —, but he never shouted at Ethan for giving you a friendly hug or sent any threatening glares at Trevor, the guy that worked with you at the library.

‘’You’re staying with me all night tonight. I’m not letting you out of my sight,’’ Chad declared as you walked to the frat house the Halloween party was at, struggling to take his eyes off you in your cowgirl costume.

Getting matching costumes was cringy according to Mindy, but you and Chad decided to ignore her. It was cute and reminded people that you were together. Quinn had helped you with your costume, letting you borrow a shirt from her closet to match with your cow print skirt and cowboy boots.

‘’I could say the same about you. You’re not even wearing a shirt! You’re flashing those abs and muscles to everyone.’’ You ran your hand over his toned chest, catching yourself smiling knowing it was all yours to touch and kiss and lick. ‘’Just last week at your game, I caught three girls gawking at you. I was wearing your jersey with your damn name on it. Was it not clear enough that you were already taken?’’

‘’Y/N’s right,’’ Tara chimed, catching up behind you in her pirate costume. ‘’Those college girls are worse than high school ones. They don’t care if a guy has a girlfriend, they’ll still flirt and try to get in their pants.’’

‘’I’m not stupid enough to fall for their shit though,’’ Chad reassured you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in.

You hugged him back, feeling lucky to have a faithful man.

Half an hour after arriving, Chad finally agreed to let you wander around. Although it sounded like that, you didn’t need his permission. You just wanted Chad to understand that you would be alright on your own.

‘’Don't accept drinks from anyone and don’t let your cup out of your sight. And don’t drink the punch — you never know what’s in it. So many horrible college stories start with a spiked drink at a party.’’

‘’Yes, dad,’’ you replied, pecking his lips before disappearing among the other party-ers in search of Tara. Maybe she would be down to have some shots with you?

Just two, you told yourself as Tara poured vodka into small shot glasses. Two turned into three, and then you got enrolled into a game of beer-pong with some guys from your film class. You were kicking their asses, throwing the ball skillfully into the cups.

A few meters away, Chad was looking at you proudly. His girl was bruising these guys' masculinity and it was hilarious to see their embarrassed faces. One of them had a very poor aim and knocked a cup down, causing it to spill on the floor. Amateurs.

‘’Come on, Tara, you can do it!’’ you cheered, encouraging the petite brunette.

The shots you had downed earlier were messing with her concentration, but she was determined to get the ball in the last cup.

Unfortunately, she missed.

She pouted and the guys played their turn, getting only one ball. Tara offered to take the drink and you placed yourself in position, but just as you were about to throw the ball, the fake cop put his hand on the small of your back, dangerously close to your ass, and you completely froze. He whispered something in your ear, but you didn’t hear.

All you heard was Chad’s voice when he pulled the guy off you and shoved him against the wall, snapping you out of your frozen state.

On your left, Tara gasped, not expecting such violence from her friend. ‘’Chad!’’

‘’Don’t ever touch my girl like that,’’ he hissed at the guy, the altercation getting a few people’s attention. ‘’Got it?’’

The fake cop laughed, feeling cocky. ‘’Oh, come on! We’re just having fun.’’ He glanced at you and you shifted uncomfortably in your cowgirl costume, still feeling the ghost of the guy’s hand on your ass. His mouth curled into a smirk. ‘’With a perfect little ass like hers, I couldn’t help myse—’’

Utterly disgusted, Chad didn’t let him finish his sentence — he couldn’t — and shoved his fist against the fake cop’s chest to shut him up…which only reeled him more. He shoved Chad back by the shoulders.

As much as you appreciated Chad taking your defense, the situation was escalating and unless you wanted the night to end with a broken nose — for the other guy —, you needed to stop the fight.

You stepped in and grabbed Chad’s arm before he could shove the guy another time, but before you could say anything the fake cop shoved Chad back harder, causing him to stumble back into you. He steadied himself on his feet easily enough and you grabbed the table to stop you from falling. 

Tara rushed to your side, asking if you were okay. You nodded.

''Chad, stop!'' you called to him, grabbing his arm with a stronger grip. ''This idiot is not worth your time.'' His jaw was clenched when he finally glanced at you. ''He's just looking for a fight, let's go.''

—

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[girlystories]

L'appel du vide (The call of the void)

— pairings: Henry Bowers + Patrick Hockstetter x female/daughter of a cop/new student reader

Summary: after your parents divorce (because your mom is kinda crazy) you move to your dads hometown, back to Derry, and your cousin richie. Additional warnings: swearing, depictions of child abuse. Words: 3.5k

previous part here

Chapter 3: Everywhere

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀����'𝐒 front windows were rolled down, filling it once again with a satisfying breeze. The tired girl resisted the urge to lay her legs on the dashboard, knowing her dad wouldn't let that slide. He had just finished his pack, holding his last cigarette while driving.

[Name]'s bored eyes stared at the road. "Whose idea was it to have a barbecue at fall?"

Her dad shook his head. "Come on. Why do you have to be so down in the dumps all the time?"

"What does that even mean?"

"Just try and act happy when we arrive. It's the least you can do."

She scratched above her eye, in an effort to calm herself. It was like he viewed her as a nuisance. "Why did you want me to come with you in the first place? Don't you want to catch up with your old friend alone?", she took off her shoes and wrapped her arms around her knees, before adding, "since I bother you so much."

He sighed irritably at the comment, glancing at her. "Now why do you have to do that? You know that's not what I meant."

She stayed silent for a moment, still looking out the window. "So who is this friend?"

He didn't answer at first, wanting to resolve the small argument that began since this morning but also not wanting to bother at the moment as well. "He's a colleague of mine and an old classmate."

She leaned forward and turned the music up from the radio but her dad turned it off right after.

"[Name]," he said sternly. "Please."

She forced herself to look at him, groaning under her breath.

"I don't want to argue with you. I just want to adjust here after what happened...", he sighed. "I know you need it too."

[Name]'s eyes softened when she noticed his expression. She didn't know exactly why she woke up on the wrong side of the bed that day. Maybe it was because of the new environment or maybe the sudden lack of direction.

"Yeah, I guess so..."

They didn't say much on the rest of the ride, only asking why Richie and her uncles didn't come with them, which was answered by a rather half-assed excuse from Richie that he'd hang out with his friends.

She noticed that whoever's house they were going to was just out of Derry, being more noticeable by the sudden switch to a dirt road. She looked confused behind her, seeing the town fade a little in the distance. Trees passed them as they drove towards a rather large house. What was more noticeable was the farm house and the variety of animals roaming around. She didn't question it however, and got out the car just as they came to a stop.

She held a plastic container with some homade brownies for a simple yet enjoyable gift. They couldn't go there empty handed, so last night instead of doing nothing she thought it'd be a great idea to make a good first impression.

She took her time looking around the place, seeing the chickens and cows eating the grass. As she looked over at the house she felt an unnerving aura from it, and she hoped she was just being stupidly paranoid. It wasn't at all inviting in a way she couldn't describe. She ran after her dad when she noticed she was left behind.

She hid slightly behind him as he knocked the door. It was opened after a few moments by a middle-aged man.

"[Father name]," he said enthusiastically, greeting the both inside as he moved to the side. "Come on in."

The house was rather... glum and dark, looking completely different from the white appearance it had from outside, but it still had that stange vibe. The wall's cracks somehow revealed a hidden story behind it, as well at the holes that weren't as apparent behind the ripped wallpaper. She didn't want to judge in any way, but by the looks of the way someone "tidied" the place made it seem that no woman lived there, or set foot in that building to be exact.

"Sir, we've bring you some brownies. I hope you like them," [Name] said.

It was as if he hadn't noticed her at first by the surprised look on his face. "That's kind of you. You must be [Name], right?"

She nodded. "That's me."

"This is my daughter I told you about," her dad said proudly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "[Name], this is Butch. We were inseparable during our school years."

Butch laughed. "I have to tell you stories during that time. That reminds me, I think I remember you," he told her.

"You do?"

"Yeah, when you were about this tall," he said laughing, depicting a much shorter [Name] with his palm. "I can't believe you've grown so much. You're like a flower that has just bloomed. So beautifully too."

The smile he had when he said that ran a chill down her spine and she chuckled nervously. "Thank you."

His smile faded suddenly. "[Father name]. The thing is that I don't believe today is a good day for barbecue."

The said man rose a brow. "Oh? Why's that?"

He groaned in annoyance as he recalled something. "My stupid son forgot we have guests today and didn't prepare the meat. I should've known. He never does anything right."

"It's alright, I don't mind. We could just go out and eat somewhere in town. I'm sure your son must have been busy."

"Thanks for being understanding," he turned his attention back at [Name]. "Could you go call my son from upstairs? I don't know what's taking him so damn long."

"Sure. Um, where do I put this?", she asked and motioned at the brownies still in her hands.

"I'll take that," he did just as he said, "now go and tell him if he doesn't get down right now I'll have to drag him myself."

She didn't question it and made her way to the second floor. She felt kind of bad for the guy, but she didn't want to jump into any conclusions. As she passed the living room – which was full of empty beer bottles that weren't hidden well – she held back the need to gag at the terrible smell of nicotine.

Upstairs, she passed the bathroom and stopped at what she assumed was the guy's bedroom. She knocked the door, "hey, your dad said to come downstairs."

No answer. A few seconds passed and she knocked again.

"We're going out to eat. I don't know where but I hope somewhere good," she added jokingly. Still no answer. She hesitantly turned the handle, opening it and stepping inside. "Are you sleeping or something?"

It didn't take her long to realize the room was empty. Well, except the countless thrown clothes on the floor. The bed was unmade, but no one was laying on it. She rubbed the back of her head, confused.

She peeked her head out the door and yelled out: "He's not here!"

"What? Where the hell is that–", Butch's yell came from downstairs, continuing with a murmur while [Name] took a look around.

She approached the room, which had posters of Metallica, Megadeath and other metal bands she didn't know of, and some of women wearing inappropriate clothes in various poses, making anyone question the limit of the flexibility of the common person. There were some pictures on the selves, and upon inspection, as she grabbed one, was a group of young boys – four to be exact, having toothy grins on their faces. All except one, who instead showed the smallest smile, but not in a shy way as one might believe. She was about to look at another picture but another sound make her stop.

A loud snarky voice came from downstairs after the snap of someone shoving the door open, though not a yell but still loud. Quickly and loudly the person walked upstairs, which made [Name] almost jump by the speed when he barreled towards the room, only stopping when she was seen standing in the center. They were clearly hot happy with their visitors.

The boy's surprised expression lasted for a split second when his brows furrowed deeply, and he grabbed the picture frame from her.

"What the hell are you doing here?", he snapped.

Her legs froze on the wooden floor. She knew all well those blue eyes and stupid ashy hair. That goddamn ugly mullet.

It was Henry.

Henry-motherfucking-Bowers.

He was covered in sweat and a brown gooey substance that she hoped in God was only mud. He wore overalls this time that were tucked inside his muddy boots. Underneath he wore a tight black shirt. His sleeves were tucked above his elbows once again, but something told [Name] that this time it wasn't because of his usual fashion choice.

She crossed her arms, in a way not to show her also shocked reaction on how things turned up, "turns out my dad knows yours."

"Great, fucking great," his nostrils flared. "Another new piece of shit in this town."

She scoffed. That was uncalled for. "Oh, poor you. Like I wanted this. I would prefer to stay home rather than spend the day with you."

His anger increased, but instead he held a snakry grin. "Oh? So you already know of me?"

"Word travels fast it seems, Bowers."

She couldn't lie that she didn't keep asking her cousin and Jamie and Evelyn – and slightly Aiden, but he didn't reveal much – about him and the rest of the gang. She found out pretty quick about their acts around town and that her bleach blonde classmate wasn't how he seemed when they first met. During school he didn't dare get in trouble, but later in the afternoon he was a completely different person. The larger guy from the rest was considered the most chill of the group, despite the incident that happened the day before in the cafeteria. She was told that the other two were the most feared, Bowers and Hockstetter, even though she didn't know much about the dark heared member.

Henry's grin widened at the use of his name. He was about to say something when another shout came from downstairs.

"Don't take your sweet fucking time, Henry! We have to go!"

He flinched just meekly that it would take someone to pay close attention to notice it. He grabbed her wrist and forcefully shoved her out of his room, obviously not too happy with her in his property.

"Ow! Hey!", she yelled.

He didn't care about her almost tripping and slammed the door at her face.

   In the end it was agreed they'd drive in one car instead of two, which happened to be the one [Name]'s dad was driving, resulting in a rather awkward ride between the duo of teens in the back seat. The fathers didn't seem to notice the hostility around them, chatting and laughing loudly.

She couldn't help but glance at the angsty blonde on her right every now and then, who was glued to the door, looking out the window with crossed arms. He had changed into a pair of jeans and he wore the same denim jacket. He still had that angry look on his face, as if it was set on default while his mullet was way messier than yesterday.

She was humming alongside the lyrics of Fleetwood Mac from the radio when she heard someone call her name.

"Don't be rude. Butch is talking to you," her dad said.

"Oh, sorry... Could you repeat that?", she swore she caught a glimpse of Henry rolling his eyes.

"I was just telling you about the day I met this piece of treasure here," he let out a laugh and patted her dad on the shoulder, who also laughed in response. "One time I was driving home, you know on the dirt road after Witcham Street. Yeah well, I was driving home – I was about twenty-four or five at that time – and I saw a fallen motorcycle – it was a BSA Gold Star I think. Shame, it was a beauty! Well anyway, there was a unconscious man laying next to in, and, of course, I had to check on 'im. How do you know! – it was none other than [Father name] over here!"

The girl's eyes widened, "What?!"

He laughed, smacking his knee, "I will never forget that day. This peace of shit almost gave me a heart attack,"

the other man cleared his throat, interrupting him.

"Sorry, sorry... so anyway, I rushed to the nearest hospital – and as you know we didn't have a hospital back then in Derry, so I had to drive for twenty minutes. In the end he survived with only a broken leg and he was out after five days. Your father here is made out of steel!"

She leaned from her seat, grabbing both front seats to get a closer look at her dad. "Dad, is that true?"

"Yeah, well...", he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing his nose with his thumb. "That's why you're never getting a motorcycle."

She pouted her cheeks. "Why? That's not fair."

He laughed again, this time in a teasing way. "We'll see. That all depends on your grades, missy."

"You wan' a bike? Not really ladylike," Butch informed. As if reminded of his existence [Name] sat back in her seat, her knee accidentally brushing the guy's next to her.

"I'm sure she would be fine, Butch."

The man shrugged, forgetting the subject. "Anyway, good times, good times... Nothing can rewind time unfortunately," he sighed loudly. "Enough about that, I'm sure you remember living in Derry, right? This town is anything but unmemorable."

"Uhm, hmm," she placed her forefinger on her bottom lip. "I guess a little. Maybe middle school... and me playing in the backyard..." A core memory suddenly popped into her mind. Of her mom. But she didn't want to think about her at the moment. "I also remember riding my bike, that was fun."

"That's it? I swear you used to hang with Henry over here," he revealed, looking at his son with a neutral look she couldn't describe. "Don't you remember, son?"

There was a pause of silence that lasted longer than expected. Too long, that she couldn't make out what he was thinking. Now that she thought about it more, she recalled vague memories playing in a large yard. No... it was a farm. She also remembered the animals. She chased after them too. The thing she didn't remember, though, was playing with Henry. She would surely remember a cruel bratty little devil bothering or bullying her. The other thing she remembered was a woman living there with her child that had long blonde hair and a big toothy smile, while the dad was usually absent.

"No," he finally answered, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Huh," Butch turned his head back forward, "Maybe it was another girl."

The diner was pretty small, but also chill and welcome, not at all fancy. Perfect for hangout between dads, but not so suited for two kids that didn't get on a good start. It wasn't because of the way he bumped onto [Name], but because of what she heard. She wasn't the type of person to believe in rumors, but there must have been a reason everyone fucking hated their guts. They even bullied her cousin. That's a good and reasonable reason. Also his attitude was really getting on her nerves. He could at least act nice, especially in front of his dad.

He was behaving like a bratty kid, seating in the same way he sat in the car: crossed arms and leaned back, manspreading. He was opposite from them and next to his dad.

[Name] leaned her head on her palm, playing with her food, or in better words, her leftover crumbles. The two fathers kept talking and talking, making her zone out on most of it. They kept saying old stories and whatever new stuff happened in Derry.

She glanced over at Henry, who didn't touch his fries one bit. He was glaring at her, which she couldn't take seriously and found honestly pretty funny. She rose a brow, in a way asking him, *what are you looking at?*

This made his breathing quickler, as if trying to calm himself down. Before she did anything to make him any more mad, his dad spoke.

"Eat your food. I didn't pay this for nothing," he said, his tone completely shifted from the one previously.

Henry froze again, not daring to look at him. Instead looking down. After what felt like hours, he said, "I'm going out."

He got up and left quickly, while also not making any eyecontact with anyone. Butch's head followed after him, until he had completely gone out of the diner. The sound of the bell above, then the shut of the door followed. Butch's eyes made chills run down [Name]'s spine.

Butch parted his lips in order to grumble another snarky remark, but [Name] got up suddenly.

"Uh, I, um, gotta go out too," she stumpered out before thinking. "Gotta hang out with some friends from school."

"You made friends already? Who?", her dad asked.

"Uh, Aiden." She said, whoever came to her mind at the moment. "Yeah, sorry. I totally forgot about that."

He sighed, "Okay, fine. You can go."

"Okay, talk to you later," she said and was about to leave, before turning back around. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Butch."

Just as she departed the diner her dad thought out loud, "wait, I thought I told you to cancel any- Ah, what the heck."

She didn't realize it before but it was literally freezing outside. October came like bitch. It was obvious it'd snow any minute now.

She immediately looked around, looking for Henry, which she did, since he kicked a dumpster over, sending all the trash flying. That made her regret her decision instantly.

She stayed outside of the diner, hugging herself and shivering, staring at his back, not knowing what to do.

Then he started leaving.

Fuck.

She quickly followed after, her fast but short legs trying to catch up after him.

What the hell was she doing?

Whatever she thought before clearly didn't really matter to her anymore, but she had to find somewhere warm to go. It'd be super embarrassing to go back at the diner. The two men would probably think she was a loser and got stood up or something.

But what was happening right now would probably also be considered embarrassing, if not more.

Maybe she should just follow him secretly and learn more about his secret wicked ways? Find some sort of secret to blackmail him into not bullying Richie anymore.

Or just go home. Which was kinda far, so she'd probably freeze until then.

Her breathing became heavier from both the cold and her lazy body suddenly having to walk so quickly. Just then Henry stopped. She also stopped. She quickly realized he was at a bus stop and he took out a cigarette, lightning it up and inhaling it. He shifted on one leg and placed a hand inside his denim jacket, shivering ever so lightly. He wasn't dressed properly for the weather, yet he refused to feel any cold. He looked to the right as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

It took her a minute to realize he had noticed her.

Shit.

"The fuck you lookin' at?"

She didn't know what else to do but to walk up to him, awkwardly sitting down at the wooden seat.

"Oh, hi," she tried to act casual, but obviously failing. "Cold weather we're having, huh."

"Are you fucked, Trashmouth no. 2?"

"Jeez, why are you always so fucking angry?"

"None of your fucking business, Missy," he snapped, using the nickname her father gave her, but sounding it way differently. "Why the hell did you follow me, you weirdo. Are you that pathetic you follow random people around just so they would talk to you?"

"No... I was just bored," she shrugged, her leg bouncing nervously. "Are you that egotistical, Bowers?"

And she used his name again.

If it were another day he'd definitely mess with her in a more fucked up way, she wouldn't dare approach him ever again, but now he wasn't really feeling it.

"Then why not just ask your old man to give you a ride home? Would make this shit all easier for me"

"Huh? Why?"

He threw his cigarette at the concrete, stepping on it with his heel.

"'Cuz I'm bored out my fuckin' mind, that's why. I wanna go back at the farm."

"Why not ask your dad for a ride then?", she placed her hands inside her pockets as a wind went past them.

He shot her a glare, yet said nothing. After a few minutes she thought to say something. Unfortunately, whatever she chose upon was too late as a bus had stopped.

Henry got on in without saying a word. Moments later she sat the alone, shivering, confused and with regret. She shouldn't have left the stupid diner.

She walked back home. Fortunately, she had brought her keys with her.

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - John 8:1 🐄

the message now reads: ‘THE/TOWER/HA’ . i’m sticking with the assumption that ‘tower’ is a full word and ‘ha’ is the beginning of the next until proven otherwise

okay and now it’s talking about falling asleep within the dream, which is confusing as all hell. whoever this narrator is, ‘her body was a mystery to her’, which is very reminiscent of the themes throughout of Nona wondering who she is. i really do think that this narrator has to be Alecto somehow or on some level, maybe because of Harrow falling asleep in the Tomb at the end of HtN?

also hammocks made of ‘baby-soft skin’. Ew. 

and an interesting point of reference, John’s eyes are explicitly black w/ white rings on them, so this dream is set after Alecto becomes his cavalier. although it might mean nothing, it’s also very interesting considering just how significant eye colour has been that the torchlight makes the white ring ‘a satiny gold’, given his eyes were originally gold - i wonder if it might have something to do with the type of shared Lyctorhood he and Alecto have going on?

honestly if someone came on the internet showing off that they could control dead bodies or whatever, i would think it was a deepfake or some other trolling as well. i love that apparently there are still Flat Earthers around despite having the tech to have some kind of space station on Mars existing

its ironic people calling him the Antichrist initially, given that he eventually adopts the exact opposite vibe of being a deity. and the whole religious/God/Christ associations aren’t even something that he solely adopted post-Resurrection himself either, even here people, and John’s group of friends, are explicitly comparing him to Jesus and using Christianity as a basis of what to do

and uh yeah, realistically someone broadcasting that they can raise the dead and heal everyone would probably be considered a cultist not just by the government, but by most people honestly 

and we’ve got A— Junior, (presumably) Alfred, joining the team as well, who apparently went from being a hedge fund manager in one life to swordfighting in the next. wild. 

‘she’d adored being a cop’ i like Pyrrha well enough so far, but yikes 

even though John’s still getting to grips with his powers, and can’t do proper resurrections yet, he still seems a lot more powerful than other necromancers later, given he’s able to build an entire wall out of perpetual bone, something which from what I remember Harrow treated as a massive achievement at the end of GtN 

what the actual fuck did those cows and sheep do to you man!!! is this why Canaan House has all that horned skull imagery, as like a weird little tribute to how cow murder contributed to him becoming Emperor. maybe the real cow murder was the friends that we made along the way

‘they treated us like we’d done some kind of huge crime’ MY DUDE.

[starsarefire824]

Demons of Change & Wildflower Eyes

They ride in silence for a long while after Mike asks for Will’s address. Mike knows the area, past Hawkin’s lab. It’s near Max’s trailer park. Quiet and dead and poor. Mike doesn’t say anything though. And Will doesn't offer up any other directions, assuming Mike already knows the way. Some old song comes on the radio. A mournful, eerie love song from the fifties or something and Will shivers when Mike rolls down the window. Mike notices as he pulls his sleeves over his hands and gathers the hood around his neck. 

“Are you cold?” Mike asks awkwardly into their suddenly heavy silence. 

Will shakes his head as he looks out the window. “No, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” Mike asks again, noticing the way his mouth twitches in discomfort. 

Will looks over at him and a smile spreads across his face. Something soft and sweet and used to hiding sadness. 

“Yeah,” he says again. “I’m fine.” 

Mike works his jaw and turns his attention back towards the double lined country road. He spots an old, familiar barn in the distance. They are coming up on old Merril’s farm. He can smell the sickly sweet stench of cow shit in the breeze. 

He watches the breeze blow the dead tips of corn left unharvested for cattle feed. They are no longer green and lush, but brown and dry and whispering to them in the wind. 

Mike pulls over quickly, dust flying up on the edge of the road as he rolls into the shoulder. 

Will grabs onto the handle of the car. “What are you doing?” he asks urgently, his shoulders gone stiff with alarm. 

Mike shifts his car into park and shrugs off his seat belt and jacket. 

“I have an idea,” he announces with a slight smile, suddenly feeling the need to make the night last longer. To spend a few more moments with this strange boy, on this strange night, the day before Halloween. Maybe there is something in the air. Maybe it’s Hawkins ghosts spurring him on. Maybe it’s Zombie Boy himself. He is a ghost too after all. Will Byers. The queer. The freak. The boy who came back from the dead. 

Troy had lots of conspiracy theories about what happened to him, most of them involving around being kidnapped by some other queer for sexual favors. Says that's what the cops told his dad. Mike isn't sure if he believes any of that, but if Troy only knew they were together. That they had hung out. Well, Mike doesn’t want to think of that right now. He’d be dead. He’d be beaten to a pulp. It’d ruin everything.

Mike shoves the door of his car shut against the thought and stomps over to where the grass meets the cornstalk wall, dirty headlights shining behind him like a spotlight. 

He smiles and turns around. “Come on,” he says, waving Will forward. 

Will is still standing next to the car, hands in his pockets and wearing a leery expression. He guesses that's fair enough.

“Come on!” Mike urges again, feeling desperate to coax Will out of whatever cocoon he’s woven around himself. 

“Mike—“ Will sighs with a nervous smile, looking down the road as if expecting something. “What are you doing?” 

Mike’s eyelids flutter and he stuffs his hands in the back pockets of his worn black jeans. “A race,” he announces with a goofy smile. “We’re gonna race.” 

Will ambles around the front of the humming car and snickers as he stands before him. “A race?” He asks, his thick eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You and me,” Mike answers matter of factly. What else would he think? “I dare you.”

Before Will can answer Mike’s already counting down. 

“Three!” Mike crouches slightly.

“Two!” His heart beats in his chest.

“One!” He pushes off! Running head on into the sea of dried corn. Mind blank and the dew already soaking the ankles of his pants.

“Mike!” He hears Will’s voice call out. “Mike—- wait !” 

Mike is vaguely aware that Will is behind him. That he's running too.

“Mike!” He calls again, but Mike can feel Will at his back. He’s gaining on him. And so he pushes forward. 

Runs faster. 

“Come on!” He calls back to Will. “Catch me!” 

Mike squints, ignoring how the corn stalks slice his bare arms, his cheek, and the skin along his ribs.

The light of the car has dimmed and he can’t really see in front of him. There’s nothing but the faded blue light cast from the sliver of moon left in the sky. Mike doesn’t know what he’s doing out here, past midnight on a school night trespassing in a forgotten field with the last person he’d ever expected. Yet he is . And he feels alive for the first time in a very long time, and so he pushes forward. Revels in the way his body shivers at the cold and the dew and the stranger’s fingers tugging at his bicep. 

“Mike!” he hears Will call once more before he’s tumbling, the sea of corn turning around him like a shaken up kaleidoscope. He doesn’t know where he ends and the field begins, like when he was nine years old and got caught in a wave when his family went to the ocean on the East Coast one summer. He’s falling and he’s sure that Will is going with him. They twist and turn, hands gripping for dear life and legs flying over their heads. 

The two of them land in a jumbled heap and Mike cries out in pain when he feels something sharp jab him in the ribs. It could be an elbow, a hand, a rock. He isn’t sure. There is something strong gripping his back, fingers prodding at his shoulder blades.

The air is thrown out of his lungs and his gasps turn into laughter. When he lifts his head he can’t breathe, because Will is beneath him, mouth slackened and lungs heaving in his chest, eyes dark and excited and utterly shocked. His breath is hot upon Mike’s cheek as he breathes.

They’re chest to chest and Mike must be crushing him. His pelvis digs into his and the insides of Will’s thighs brush along the sides Mike’s legs. They’re basically hugging, like two lovers screwing in some sun beaten field in one of the romance movies his mother loves. His laughter dies on his lips.

Mike blinks at Will and sighs out. He watches him open his mouth as if to say something, but can't seem to find the words. Mike feels Will’s nails dig in at his back where he’s clung for dear life as they fell. 

Will looks terrified and Mike feels his body go rigid beneath him.  

“You have a cut,” he finds himself saying, his thumb swiping blood across Will’s full bottom lip. It stains it a deep shade of pink and Will breath quivers as much as his body. 

Mike watches his tongue dart out, licking away the blood and leaving his skin wet with spit. The sight of it pulls at him. Lures him, like some fucking siren in one of the poems he read in English class. He brushes a wavy chestnut tendril back from Will’s eyes and…presses his lips to his. It’s almost nothing at first, featherlight. A barely there touch of their lips. Mike’s heart pounds in his chest and he breathes out as he lets his tongue slide along Will’s lip. He tastes like blood and earth and sweet like maple syrup. Then Mike takes hold of his chin and when he feels Will’s fingers press gently at the back of his neck slides his tongue in his mouth in a blood-sticky, slick, and hungry kiss. 

Will hums underneath him and his thighs press into Mike’s sides, making a sharp, jarring ache stampede through his body and he forgets himself. Forgets who Will is. Who he is. Forgets that this isn’t normal. This isn’t right. But he can’t help it. He feels so good. And Will kisses him back and his hand slides gently down his back. Mike wants to press closer to him, he wants to rock his body against him, he wants to lift up his shirt, undo his pants, and feel his skin, press him harshly into the dirt and make his body shake with his mouth. 

But that doesn’t happen. Instead there’s a firm shove at his chest and he’s falling backwards, rolling roughly on to his back, the smell of damp earth and decaying plants twinging his nostrils. Will sits up, his heavy breathing puffing out in thick clouds and eyes the same color as grass and dirt are frenzied and wild. They sit there frozen and staring at each other for Mike doesn’t know how long. 

Mike rests on his elbows and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he mutters, a wave of shame coming over him. You are so fucking stupid. Some kind of nasty faggot. Slut. 

“No,” Will says quietly and Mike peels his eyes away from the ground and forces them to meet Will’s. He’s surprised to find something light tugging at his lips. Almost a smile. 

“Yeah?” Mike sighs, still catching his breath.

Will nods at him and swallows heavily. “Yeah—I mean…I’m just surprised.” 

“You and me both,” Mike says with a cautious smile, wiping his hair back from his face and tucking it behind his ear. 

Will picks at a thread where a patch in his jeans is tearing away. “I should get back though. My mom is probably home from work and freaking out.” 

Mike nods and shoves himself to his feet. He turns to offer a hand to Will. He takes it. 

[fallenrocket]

La Máquina does such an interesting job exploring the nature of celebrity. There have been so many movies and shows about famous people, but not many hit me as hard as Esteban’s story does.

There’s the very fact that he’s a boxer, of course. Beloved throughout his country for 20 years, valued for how much pain and punishment he’s put his body through. As Irasema sees up-close when she goes to interview Chiquita Morales, that fame comes with a heavy, heavy price to a boxer’s body and brain, and Esteban is just starting to deal with the ramifications of that.

I like the detail about how maintaining his sobriety can be difficult and lonely for Esteban. As a celebrity, it’s tough to go to meetings—how can you open up when everyone in the room knows who you are and wants selfies? How can you go back to that same group when even more people show up to meet you the next time? Of course, the press speculates on his sobriety and takes cheap shots about his weight, and everything he struggles with plays out under the microscope of the public eye. At the same time, though, his celebrity gives him leeway when he relapses. During the flashbacks of his bender in episode 3, we see him drunkenly crash a wedding, punch somebody, and then get asked for a selfie when they realize it’s La Máquina. 

Everyone calls Esteban “champ,” even the cops who arrest him during his bender. For his entire adult life, this career has been his identity. It’s how everyone knows him, and it’s understandable that he’s scared to face the prospect of losing all that. Not that that identity will stop following him—Irasema calls Morales “champ” during her interview too—but no doubt it will hit very differently once he’s not boxing anymore. No wonder he longs to end his career on his own terms, showing everyone what he’s made of. 

And within his close circle, I find it really interesting to watch how the people around Esteban dismiss and baby him a little. He’s the cash cow that’s been making everybody money for 20 years, but Andy thinks his pre-fight superstitions are silly and Sixto won’t tell him he’s doing well in training because then “he’ll get lazy.” When Andy and Irasema are arguing back-and-forth about his relapse, Esteban remarks, “I hate it when you talk like I’m not here.” His celebrity status has given him less accountability for his screwups, but it’s also given him less autonomy in his life. It’s painful to hear him admit to Andy that he never really gets to be the one making choices in his own life, to the point where he fantasizes about dying in the ring. Even before the Otras Personas try to dictate the terms of his final match, Esteban feels like he’s spent his whole career doing what Andy, Sixto, and others have told him to.

And I dunno, maybe “woe is me, the poor celebrity” is cliche, but I think it’s examined so well here. Gael García Bernal is just so damn good playing Esteban’s struggles, fears, and frustrations.

[garbria]

Whumptober Day 3

Prompto swallowed blood, landing on his hands and knees onto the hard concrete. He heard the kick before he felt it slam into his ribs. He curled up as best he could to protect himself. To his surprise, no other kicks followed. Just the clang of steel as the bars slammed into place. 

“That’ll teach you Niffs to go wandering around where you’re not wanted.” The cop’s voice dripped with contempt. “A night on our hospitality will teach you to stay in your place.”

Prompto uncurled and pushed himself into a sitting position. He licked his torn lip and grimaced. “You can’t keep me here, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

The cop smirked. “A punk like you hanging around the homes of upstanding Insomnians? No way you weren’t up to something.”

Prompto rubbed the side of his face that wasn’t bruised. That was the last time he tried that shortcut home. He’d stayed late playing games with Noct and lost track of time. 

The plus side of this was his dad was going to be pissed off enough at the bigoted cop who’d dragged him in under false pretenses that he might escape getting in trouble for staying out too late. Maybe. 

He wrapped his arms around himself in a bid to keep warm and settled down to wait. If the cop hadn’t been quite as much of an asshole, he might have warned him, but at this point, he deserved what was coming to him.

Sure enough, a half hour later, his dad slammed through the door. He’d have enjoyed watching the cops panic more if he wasn’t so sore. They all straightened up, one of them spilling his coffee in the process.

“Marshal! What are you doing here?” 

Prompto had to give it to him. the asshole had guts.

Cor shot the asshole cop a glare that would have cowed most Crownsguard. “I’m here to retrieve my son. Under what charges have you detained him?”

The cop went satisfyingly pale, turning to look at Prompto.

Prompto stood up and brushed himself off. “A Niff like me had to be up to something – his words.”

Cor’s glare got even icier.

“I- There’s just been some kind of misunderstanding. I’ll just release him into your custody.” He fumbled for key on his key ring.

Cor didn’t say anything more as Prompto was let out of the cell. He put a hand on Prompto’s shoulder and guided him out, making sure to make eye contact with everyone on their way out.

Someone was getting an official reprimand, at the very least.

Cold comfort after the rough treatment, but Prompto would take it. Especially if it distracted his dad from wondering what he was doing out at this time of night by himself.

[cohendyke]

Yes yes yes! All of this Cam introspection is giving me life! Something I keep thinking about post episode 3 was when Cam gives that sardonic, "yeah, the uniform is really off putting to some people, huh." Because. My girl is both a cop. And part of a cop family. But ALSO first nations. And from a group home. AND attracted to women (or at the very least A woman *naned Rebecca fricking Godfrey*). So it's just. Layers upon Layers upon Layers of being othered. And God bless Lily Gladstone for the way she delivered that line, like Cam knows the uniform is not the only thing that turns people off around her...but it's really the one thing she could choose. So it's a dry but defiant remark almost and I just want to hug her so bad!

MEEE TOO!!!! I LOVE HER SOO MUCH!!!! But yeah I wonder if she has any regrets or qualms about being a cop considering literally all of her life. I'll admit i kinda hated that shes a lesbian cop because thats kind of a go to for butch characters in media. But once again I am more than pleased actually because there IS conflict and nuance written into her role as a cop! she really is the antithesis of the stereotypical cop even now but especially in the 90s... i do think its offputting to her but it was something she felt she had to do.. maybe for her communities even if she is pretty detached from them or proving shes more than a 'bic girl' or maybe it was a familial thing OR it was another wall she put up to protect herself... god theres so much with her truly... i want to hug her and fix her.. it doesnt help at all lily gladstone has the most beautiful big brown baby cow eyes </3

[that-was-anticlimactic]

okay so awhile ago @zukkaoru and i made a nerdy prudes must die au for bsd and we kind of went off with it and the soundtrack is stuck in my head so look at who would be who (explanations under the cut):

kunikida - grace chasity

yosano - steph lauter

dazai - pete spankoffski

ranpo - richie lipschitz

poe - ruth fleming

chuuya - max jägerman

fukuchi - wiggly

bram - nibbly

sigma - blinky

fyodor - tinky

nikolai - pokey

gin - kyle

tachihara - jason

jouno - detective shapiro

tecchou - officer bailey

mori - mayor lauter

elise - miss tessburger

cheerleaders - higuchi (brenda), naomi (stacy), kajii (brooke)

kyouka - reese

jun’ichiro - joey's bbq monologue guy

atsushi - bbq jon/trevor

kenji - bbq angela

akutagawa - bbq mariah/caitlyn

mushitaro - corey dorris' cop (f-ing transcendent cop)

mark - dan reynolds

john - donna

hirotsu - miss mulberry

nathaniel - boy jerry

guy koyou tried running away with - mark chasity

koyou - karen chasity

margaret - bryce’s reporter

louisa - paul

lucy - emma

kunikida as grace bc he has all his ideals and he's just so... idk how to describe it in a way that doesn't sound mean bc i mean it so affectionately but he has the vibes of slowly losing his beans. also... just PICTURE him singing "dirty girl" YOOOOO and like if you ship kunichuu, then it's also kunikida freaking out bc he's thinking romantically about someone from the mafia. also he deserves to go wild <3

yosano as steph bc Vibes <333 dazai as pete (and this is not shipping yosano and dazai... they're just friends in this) bc he's smart and would 100% get all caught up in something like this also bc we're making chuuya max so like they're rivalry tehe. now i know you could argue that atsushi should be pete and akutagawa should be steph... but this stemmed from kunichuuzai, sooooo. dazai could also be steph, but we thought that yosano fit steph better than pete

ranpo as richie bc there was literally no good place for ranpo. he's too smart. but richie is also smart and it'd just be silly. maybe now ranpo can live (for a lil bit oops) the childhood he never had...

poe as ruth bc he would KILL "just for once" look me in the face and tell me i'm wrong

chuuya as max bc gravity powers and dead!max's powers are similar, chuuya has the anger issues to be max, plus he and kunikida would get to sing "dirty girl" together. i also feel like "literal monster" could be a song in reference to chuuya and i feel like (in a kind of self-deprecating way), chuuya would sing that about himself

we made the decay of angels the lords in black bc it FIT!!! fukuchi as wiggly bc leader, bram as nibby bc... vampire... mouth..., sigma as blinky bc they've got eyes on the casino and know everything about all the staff and customers and such, fyodor as tinky bc tinky is prolly the most sadistic one, and nikolai as pokey bc nikolai is most likely to cause a musical apocalypse

gin as kyle and tachihara as jason is just so silly~ and hirotsu as miss mulberry bc he's trying his best to wrangle a bunch of depressed teenagers all the time. higuchi, naomi, and kajii are the cheerleaders (we invented a third one specifically for kajii) bc we think they'd be good cheerleaders lol

jouno as shapiro bc VIBES and wants to uphold the law and tecchou as bailey would just be SO FUNNY and they would just annoy each other soooooo much! we made mushitaro corey dorris' cop bc it would be funny

mori as the mayor is great bc yosano is steph... and that's just depressing ya know? and then elise as tessburger for obvious reasons

we just thought mark and john would be a funny dan and donna tbh. margaret as bryce's reporter specifically so she can blame nathaniel hawthorne. nathaniel as boy jerry bc ViRgiNiTy RoCkS

jun'ichiro as joey's bbq guy bc let's be real... jun'ichiro is an AMAZING actor. kenji HAD to be in th ebbq monologues bc cows. then akutagawa is a theatre kid i know this he told me personally (or he would be if he wasn't in the mafia and had a family and went to school). atsushi is kind of there just so we can hear him say, "my barbecue" the way jon does lol

[ternfic]

Bluebird

Chapter Five: Obsession

Benny had been depressed to part ways with Ken and Lenny just several months later. They’d stuck around long enough to make sure he could handle a life on the run, and then returned to Cape Space. Bad Cop had finally given up on searching the realm for him by then, but not on searching for him, so he couldn’t stay with them. He didn’t think he could bear being the reason they got caught. It also would have been too tempting to stick around, when Director Kenning had declared him grounded indefinitely, due to medical reasons. So what if his brain didn’t quite work the way it used to? He was still perfectly capable!

But he stayed aboard the Sea Cow as requested, it being his best chance at evading Bad Cop and capture, and tried to settle into the life of a sailor. They’d picked up some new clothes for him during their brief stay in Cape Space to drop off his friends, something more suitable for heat and sun than his space suit. The pirates had laughed at his tropical tee shirts and khaki shorts, but he honestly liked the ridiculous eighties style too much to give it up so easily. (And at any rate, they later admitted, the look suited him.)

Time went on. Some of Metalbeard’s original crew left, annoyed with their captain’s persistent protection of the spaceman who didn’t quite fit in. Not for lack of trying, of course, but all Benny seemed able to talk about was space, and spaceships, and how much he wanted to be back among the stars. The skies had called to him all his life, and he had worked too hard to get himself up there to have to keep his feet on the ground. It wore on him in ways he couldn’t explain.

And finally, one day, he decided enough was enough. He was a Master Builder now, wasn’t he? There was nothing holding him back from just making his own spaceship and going for a flight. So he dug into the ship’s stores of parts, kept handy for when a Master Builder’s urge to create struck, and found the materials he would need. He hauled everything up onto the deck, and got to work.

He was maybe halfway through when he found himself being bodily hauled away. “Hey!” he protested. “Put me down!”

“Benny, what are ye doin’?” the captain asked. Benny glared up at him petulantly.

“Building a spaceship, what’s it look like?”

“Ye think Bad Cop isn’t watchin’ the skies for unauthorized aircraft?”

“It’s not an aircraft, it’s a spacecraft.”

“Either or. He’s still hellbent on catchin’ ye, lad, and I’m not willin’ to let ye risk yerself like that.”

“But…”

“Besides, it be yer Director’s orders, aye? Tis for yer own good.” Benny scowled up at him. So the captain had won this round, but he wasn’t going to just roll over and give up. He waited several weeks, giving Metalbeard a false sense of security, before trying again.

And getting caught again.

And again.

And again.

He screeched in frustration when Metalbeard pulled him away from a half-finished spaceship for the eleventh time.

“Look, I know what it be like, havin’ to give up the things ye love-”

“No, you don’t!” Benny shouted, thrashing to get free. “You still have your ship, and the seas! You still have what calls you, so why can’t I have the stars?!” The fight seemed to leave him then, and Metalbeard finally set him back down. He sat down hard, sniffling. “Why won’t you let me have the stars…”

Metalbeard stared down at him for a bit, before lowering himself to the deck beside the spaceman. They sat in silence for a while. “I’ve a wife and three children,” the captain said at length. Benny wiped his eyes and glanced up at him. “I love them more than anything in the world, even the sea. And… it’s been more than a year since I’ve last seen them. I can’t go home, for fear Bad Cop and Business will take them, and use them against me. I don’t know when I will see them again. Not ‘til this nightmare ends, at least. If I survive it. This feather?” He tapped the decoration at his temple. “Me Pearl gave it to me. Her people don’t use wedding bands; they give a piece of themselves.” He chuckled at the bemused look on Benny’s face as he tried to figure that one out. “Maybe I’ll tell ye someday lad, but I can’t trust ye with that information just yet.”

Benny huffed at him, and glanced back down at his hands. “…I’m sorry,” he finally murmured after a while.

“I don’t blame ye for bein’ upset, lad. I’ve raged me fair share at how unfair everything be, these days. Have ye looked up?”

Benny gave him a puzzled look, then tilted his head back. “…Oh,” he gasped. “It’s so clear tonight…”

Metalbeard smirked. “Why don’t ye get up, take a peep over the railing.” Benny shoved himself to his feet, looking around, eyes wide. The waters were so still, they were almost a mirror, reflecting the pinpoints of light far above.

“You…”

Metalbeard stood, reaching over to gently squeeze his shoulder. “Ye still have yer stars, lad. Ye just had to look, is all.”

Benny sniffled again. “Thanks,” he murmured. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while…”

“Aye lad, just don’t be up too late.” Metalbeard smirked at him. “I’m still puttin’ ye to work in the morning.” Benny snickered.

The spaceship attempts continued after that, though without the desperation that previously accompanied them. It seemed more to be that Master Builder itch that was getting to Benny, giving him the urge to make something. Metalbeard was still vigilant though, just in case.

Crew members continued to come and go with alarming regularity. It wasn’t long before Skeeter was the only member of his original crew left. Loyalty apparently didn’t account for much in the face of a space-obsessed crewmate.

“Sometimes I’m surprised ye still be around,” Metalbeard told Skeeter one day.

“Pfft. Everyone’s got their own methods of coping with this madness, I’m hardly going to let his scare me off. Honestly, most times I wonder if they’re really that annoyed by him, and not just intimidated by all those big, fancy words he throws around.” Metalbeard threw his head back and laughed.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Hunted

for Angstpril, Day 17: Running Away

cw: suicide attempt, adult language, electrocution

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

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He didn't know what he'd expected to happen when he finally ran.

Maybe the cops would hunt for him, maybe his name and picture would flash on the news, tell the city he was alive and an outlaw and needed to be taken down. But broadcasting his status as an at-large Redlined would be a death sentence, and Uriah didn't want Alexei dead. He wanted him punished.

And Lex couldn't let that happen.

He'd known what was coming, as soon as Uriah dropped the file in front of him. Something in the CEO's smile, his step. He'd known he was about to be tested, that Fox thought his hold was tight enough to make Lex do anything he wanted. His suspicions were confirmed as he scanned the targets' datapage.

Anita and Devon Rackam. Fifteen. Thirteen.

"They're children."

"They're thieves. Murderers."

"I don't hurt kids."

"You don't have a choice."

Lex had hung his head, but he'd already made his decision. Fox gave him coordinates, and he acted cowed and compliant all the way to his destination.

Then he struck. He jumped his handler, seized the remote before his collar could be activated, and he ran.

It was stupid, he knew, thinking he could actually get away. Uriah had money. Contacts. Resources. The signal for his fucking collar.

"I'm going to give you one chance to turn back, Alexei," Fox's voice sounded in his ear, low and threatening. "Or I'll do worse than send you back to the Tower."

(Cower, flower, sour.)

Lex didn't grace him with a response. Between the collar and the cybernetics, Fox could track him anywhere in the city. His only hope was to run fast enough. Far enough. Get to a place where Uriah would have no power, if such a place existed.

Spyglass's voice echoed in his head, unwelcome as the whine of a mosquito.

"Our offer still stands, you know."

No. Fuck, no. He'd go faster alone, and besides, he wasn't about to bring Uriah's hounds down on the rogues.

"It seems you've made your choice," Uriah said, after a long silence, and Lex heard, rather than felt, his arms power down, a faint buzz that had become background noise suddenly absent. Dead metal swung stiffly, now only serving to weigh him down as he ran.

Shit.

He could still get away. He could still get away. 

"Have you heard of Project Bullfrog, Alexei?" Uriah queried. Lex ignored him.

(Cog, dog, fog, hog.)

Eyes were on him as he darted through the city, taking erratic turns, launching himself through alleyways as he made his way toward the edge of town. Were the people who stared confused bystanders? Or more of Fox's cronies?

"That's where we send the lost causes. All the way to the bottom of the Tower. That's where people really disappear."

(Smear. Clear.) Lex tried to choke back his growing nausea, ignore the icy feeling in his chest that wouldn't go away.

Every sudden movement was an enemy ready to strike, every passing vehicle seemingly out to get him. And who was to say he was wrong?

"That's where you're going when we catch you. It'll make your stay in the Tower look like a fucking pleasure cruise."

"Do you ever shut up?" Lex snapped. He didn't have time for threats, he didn't have time to acknowledge the building dread.

He swore there were people following him, hiding in the sea of the crowd. Carefully closing the distance between them, hoping to snap the jaws of the trap shut without alerting any civilians. He tried to outrun the shadows, but their numbers only seemed to grow.

(Blow, flow, low, mow.)

He dodged into an alley, crouching beside a dumpster to catch his breath, just for a second. He couldn't hide when Uriah could track him. He couldn't run when enemies were everywhere. And he couldn't go back in the dark.

But he was rapidly being backed into a corner. He'd fight off the ones who got to him first, but he couldn't beat them all.

I can't go back. I'd rather die than go back. I'd rather…

Lex took a shaky breath, forcing himself to stand. He was on the north side of the city, near the river. Near the bridge.

He pushed off again, aware of the footsteps following him, no longer caring. He could see the bridge in the distance. Not too far. He could make it.

Sick of being locked away, sick of being a pawn, sick of having no choice. Well every choice he'd made today was his. Lex wouldn't go back. He'd go down on his own terms.

When he reached the bridge, there were too many people on the footpath; Uriah's men, closing in. He kept running, and their faces blurred as he passed.

Climbing onto the waist-high wall with his arms as dead weight was a pain in the ass, but he managed. Just as he'd suspected, several of the pedestrians walking near him broke out into a run as soon as they saw him step onto the ledge.

"Stop!"

Fuck no. As they all came crashing in, he glanced over his shoulder at the smooth dark blue of the water below. He wondered if it'd be cold. If he'd even care about that after hitting the surface, losing his breath, sinking.

"What do you think you're doing?" Uriah's voice hissed in his ear, and Lex shrugged, though he doubted the man could see it.

"Dying first."

He saw someone in the crowd pull a familiar remote from a jacket pocket, felt the electricity arc through his body, but it didn't matter.

He was already free-falling towards the river.

What a fitting way to put out a fire.

וווווווווווווווווווווו×

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Lo-Fi: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

You and Cooper step off the subway on 14th Street station, trying not to stand out as someone who isn't supposed to be there.

"I know you're with Spencer, but if we're undercover, then maybe we should act like a couple," he says.

"Look, you're nice and charming, but we both know you'd never actually cheat on your wife. You love her too much."

"Fine, you got me there," he chuckles nervously.

Everyone is bustling around to and from the subway, but you're looking out for anyone suspicious. All of a sudden, you get a sickening feeling that something isn't right. There are thousands of people walking by you, but there is only one that stands out. Even if you haven't seen what he looks like, you can feel the sinister motive one of your unsubs have.

"What's wrong?" Cooper asks.

"He's here. I can feel him."

"You can feel it?"

You don't have time to explain what you can do.

"Hotch, he's here. I can feel him. He's close by," you say into the microphone embedded into your jacket sleeve.

Just then, you and Cooper hear a gunshot go off, and you know you're too late. You're too late to save a life, but you're not too late to catch the culprit. You take off running without waiting for an answer, and Cooper has no choice but to follow you.

You turn the corner onto 16th Street and see the unsub running towards you. As soon as you two lock eyes, he quickly turns and runs the other way. Cooper sees who you're after, and he picks up the pace. The man's looks are seared into your brain so that even if he gets away, you can tell his description to a sketch artist.

"We got him, Hotch," you say into the microphone.

Cooper is faster than you since you have heels on, but you try your hardest to catch up with him. The unsub turns onto Broadway, but he doesn't continue. Cooper turns the same corner, and the unsub is waiting for him with a gun pointed right at him.

The unsub shoots Cooper in the side, and the detective falls to the ground. You run into the open and point your own gun at the unsub. He hesitates, and you take that opportunity to shoot him twice in the chest. He immediately falls down, and Cooper groans in pain.

He is going to be okay, so you go to the unsub first, but he isn't moving. You grab his gun before retreating back to Cooper.

"Penelope! Hotch! We've got an officer down at 16th west of Union Square!" you say to the other agents listening in. "You're going to be okay, Cooper. Please, stay with me."

You place your hands over his chest, watching as his blood spills over your hands. The ambulance sirens come closer before screeching to a halt behind you. The rest of your team comes in seconds later, and you pull away from Cooper so the paramedics can tend to his wounds.

The ones that aren't taking care of Cooper are taking care of the unsub. Once stable, Cooper is taken away by a gurney and placed into the back of the ambulance.

"Are you okay?" Derek asks you.

"Yeah I'm fine. Cooper lost a lot of blood though," you sigh and wipe your blood stained hands on your black slacks.

"Did they ID that guy yet?" you ask about the unsub.

"No, there isn't any ID on him."

"Figures," you scoff. "I shouldn't have had to shoot him."

"Y/N, stop. He shot a cop. You did what you had to do," Derek says seriously.

"No, not that. He was ahead of us by a long shot. He would have gotten away if he kept running. Instead, he stopped and waited."

"Maybe he felt trapped and figured he'd shoot his way out," JJ suggests.

"I don't know. There's something more to this. It's like they're terrorists or something." You can see the doubt on your coworker's faces. "Think about it. This guy is as cool as can be and shoots somebody two blocks from where Cooper and I were standing. He has no ID on him, and he waits for us to catch up to him."

"What are you saying?"

"I think they're distractions. I think shooting people isn't murder but a way to keep the police busy while they get ready for something else."

"I think she's right," Hotch backs you up. "Good work, Y/N."

"Thank you, sir," you smile.

"We need to go over the profile and see what we missed."

Once the unsub was declared dead, Cooper got taken to the hospital, and the crime scene was taped off, your team headed to the FBI building.

"So, how does this work?" Kate asks.

"The murderers simulate a bombing. From there, they station someone to watch and gauge police response time," Spencer explains. "At which point, they know when to bring in a second bomb."

"The goal is always to take out the first round of civilians, followed by a second wave of emergency responders."

"It's crazy, but it's ingenious. They get a practice run, and if someone catches the shooter, they think they just have a murderer. The cell isn't compromised," Spencer says.

"It's Lo-Fi," Kate says. "It's the smartest way to plan for a terrorist event. Creating panic ensures that they see the most urgent response times short of a bombing."

"There's been seven different shooters?" JJ asks.

"Having followers do the shootings would ensure they're willing to kill or be killed for the cause," Derek shrugs.

"It fits the profile. There is something larger at play. It's similar to gang initiation, especially if they're home-grown. They haven't had a chance to prove themselves."

"I think they're targeting points of entry. All the murders have taken place near a bridge or a tunnel," Spencer says, pointing to the map he's been working o this entire time.

"Holland Tunnel, Midtown Tunnel, and Manhattan Bridge," you mutter. "If bombs went off, Emergency Response would shut down all entry and exits from the city. People will be trapped on Manhattan Island. It's what they want. Thousand of people with nowhere to go. Thousands of victims."

"Keep in mind it's still a theory, just like any profile," Hotch says.

Derek's phone rings and he places Penelope on speakerphone.

"Talk to us, Garcia."

"We got a problem. I went through and checked all four thousand, four hundred and sixty-eight cameras. They hacked into the surveillance system. They've got footage of every crime scene. They've been watching since the beginning."

"How could we not have caught that?" Hotch asks.

"They were smart. It wasn't system-wide, so they had to check each camera individually."

"Is this from every crime scene?" Emily asks.

"I'm afraid so. They hacked into one camera at every scene."

"So much for theory," Rossi scoffs.

"We need to hit the ground running," Kate says.

"I'll head to the hospital. I'll check on Cooper and brief Detective Brustin," Emily offers since you're needed here more than she is.

"Tell me how he is," you say as she leaves.

"Dave, will you go talk to the commissioner? Morgan, you brief Homeland Security," Hotch says, and the two men gather their things before leaving.

"JJ and I will talk to the port authority police," Spencer offers.

"Kate, Y/N, and I will go talk to the mayor, and we'll meet back here as soon as possible. Y/N you don't mind coming with us?"

"No, sir," you shake your head.

As soon as he asks, your body felt pulled in his direction. Something is telling you to be with him, and you have to listen to it.

"The one advantage that we have right now is that they don't know we know they're watching," Kate says.

JJ is about to head out with Spencer when she gets a manilla folder. Upon opening it, her whole attitude changes. There is a letter inside and something chunky that is still left inside, like a present of sorts.

"What is it?" you ask.

"It's from Will. He's going home to New Orleans tonight. He doesn't want to be in the way," she whispers.

"JJ, are you okay?" She reaches inside the folder and removes Will's police badge as if he is quitting his job. "He's quitting?"

Hotch comes over and sees the look of concern on JJ's face.

"Do you need everyone in the field?"

"Reid, take Y/N with you to Port Authority. JJ, you can run point here at the office. Go back to the hotel, tell Will what's going on, then come back here straight away."

JJ smiles and she immediately leaves before Will can get on a plane.

"Actually, Hotch, I'd rather be with you and Kate if that's okay."

Hotch looks between you and Spencer but shrugging, giving his silent okay. He walks away, and you turn to Spencer with an apologetic look.

"Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Spencer. Something is telling me not to leave Hotch. If I stay with him, I might be able to warn him if something does come. I'm hoping not, but I have to be with him and Kate."

"Okay, I understand. Please, be safe. Do you know what's coming?"

"It doesn't work like that," you chuckle. "I promise to be safe."

You two kiss goodbye before you, Kate, and Hotch leave the FBI building. The car is parked on a desolate road, and that's when the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. There, right in front of your standard-issued SUV, is a man, and he's kneeling on the ground by the car.

When he pulls away, you know exactly what he had just done. There is a bomb in this car, and if you don't do anything to stop it, you, Kate, and Hotch are going to die. This is it. This is why you needed to go with Hotch. The fact that Hotch and Kate don't see the man is because he's a vision.

The energy he left behind is enough for you to paint this picture.

Hotch takes out the keys to the car and hovers his thumb over the unlock button.

"No!" you yell, and time seems to slow down all around you. "It's a bomb!"

The person closest to you is Hotch, and you tackle him to the ground just as the car explodes in a fit of flames. Kate is blown back from the shock, and you and Hotch are rolled away from the impact. Your head hits the ground hard enough for you to see stars, and your face is bleeding from scraping the asphalt.

Your hearing is shot from being so close to an exploding car, but all you can think about is your teammates. JJ is pregnant, Spencer is all alone, Rossi and Derek are on their own, Emily might be safe if she made it to the hospital alright, and Penelope should be heading to the hotel.

And all you can do is lay on the ground.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[links-writing]

Fairy Lights

Getting a call from Lance while at work was, to say the least, confusing. Keith worked as a cop, mostly doing street patrol and making sure people remained peaceful. Lance never called him at work unless it was an emergency. Which led to the raven-haired man standing inside his home, gazing into his closet. He had been instructed to dress in a comfortable, though nice, set of clothes. Going through his closet led to him choosing a soft, maroon button-up. Rolling the sleeves up some, he fastened it. Black straight pants were next, and the shoes were last. Searching for a pair of black shoes, he ended up throwing all of them out of the closet, eyes roving around for a pair. Lance had, what appeared to be thirty some different pairs that rested in the closet. A half an hour later, and he found a pair. A quick shower refreshed him, dressing up in a pair of sweats and a grey shirt for the time being. Blow-drying his hair was nice, the heat felt good. Combing through it was a bit more difficult, and wrangling it into a nice appearance even more so. He managed it, however. Tying it in a gentle pony-tail, resting at the nape of his neck. A sprit of cologne on his neck and wrists, and he went to the kitchen.

After hunting through the fridge, he pulled a water-bottle out. The cat they had adopted meowed at him from the counter, making Keith chuckle. "Hey Fin, you hungry?" he spoke softly, the house feeling oddly empty without Lance there. Getting the food container from the cabinet, he smiles as the cat rubs against his ankles, recalling fondly how they had found the cat. Fin was a tan and cream-colored cat, having a similar pattern to a cow. Setting the bowl down for Fin, he checked the water. It was still full, meaning Lance had remembered to fill it before he left. Rubbing the back of his neck, he started cleaning up the house. The time Lance had said to be ready was five. It was only four-thirty, meaning he had some time to kill. Cleaning the house wasn't as much as he expected, Lance having left a note inside a couch for him. Reading over it, Keith laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement at his boyfriends antics.

Keith! I know if your reading this your cleaning! STOP FOR QUIZNACKS SAKE!!! Shower and maybe eat something! Oh and check to see if Fin has any food left too! I love you McMullet!

- Your Beloved Sharpshooter

A giggle escaped him, and Fin meowed questioningly. Keith swore up and down the cat was more human than anything. Letting Fin see it caused the cat to let out a gag, walking away and running up the stairs. Howling laughter escaped him, shoulders shaking. Fin had always done that. A kiss good-bye and he gagged. Any kiss really, caused the cat to act as if it was the worst thing in the world. Setting a timer for 4:50, he flopped on the couch, turning on the TV. It didn't take long for the timer to go off, and he stood up.

Walking up the stairs, he admired the pictures on the wall. Memories held within a simple piece of paper. He wouldn't trade them for the world. Several of them were or the other paladins. Shiro laughing, a picture caught just seconds before Lance had tackled him into the lake. Pidge making a face, similar to that a cat would make when they thought their humans where doing something stupid. Hunk caught mid-laugh, pancake batter having splattered on him. Keith smiles, looking over the pictures. This here, this was his family. His gaze landing on one of Allura, standing hunched over, caught with Pidge holding a pillow over their head, ready to smack the princess. Another picture showed Coran, his mustache fried from the electricity that had come off the machine.

He snorts, recalling the fond memories. The pictures took up the whole way up the stairs, down the hall. They had put as many pictures as they could, memories caught in a moment. He stopped at a picture of him and Lance, standing at the docks. The dork had shoved him towards the water, and he had grabbed him, dragging him down. The picture showed Keith, his face twisted in surprise, his eyes wide, and Lance, laughing as the two fell towards the water. He chuckled, feeling a sense of fondness wash over him. 

Walking into the bedroom, Fin meowed pointedly, and Keith looked over at the cat, raising an eyebrow. The cat sat near his clothes, watching as Keith went about getting ready. Looking at himself, he wondered if he should've chosen blue, but already knew the answer. Lance was a sucker for him in blue, but when he dressed in darker reds, the blue paladin had difficulty talking, let alone flirting with him. He smiles, then grabs a black flat jacket. Going back down the stairs, he sighed, settling onto the couch. Waiting for Lance's next instructions wasn't as fun as he had hoped. 

The doorbell rang, and he stood up, his eyebrows going up. As far as he knew, they didn't have any packages delivered today, and he couldn't recall anyone saying they were going to come over. Opening the door, his eyes widened. Shiro stood there, dressed in a simple tuxedo that he'd had for years. Smiling at Keith, he spoke. "Well, Lance sent me. You ready?" Keith stuttered, then frowned, "Lance sent you for what?" Shiro's laugh echoed into the house, so simple yet Keith's mind screamed that his brother was here. It had been months since the last time they'd seen each other, since the last time they'd all hung out.

"For your ride, of course!" Shiro's smile was wide, and clued Keith in that he knew something about what was going on. However, he didn't ask, just wrapped him in a hug. Shiro hugged back, letting his arms settle around Keith. Walking to the car they both talked, telling each other of the last few months. The drive there was nice, the two of them talking with music playing in the background. By the time they made it to their destination, Keith was all but bouncing in his seat, anxiety starting to fill his chest. 

"Hey, Keith. Don't worry too much about tonight, alright? Things will be okay." Shiro's smile was nice, a broad set. The twinkle in his eyes was there too. Keith let himself relax in his seat, nerves still feeling frayed but much more relaxed. Arriving to the area took Keith's breath away.

The trees stood tall, and he could catch a glimpse of a river. Several picnic tables where there as well. But Shiro drove past them, heading deeper into the park. It easily took another half an hour of driving, but it was worth it. Arriving at a little meadow in the woods, Keith stepped out. It was dark at this point, fairy lights strewn across the area.

It would have easily taken hours of setting up, the lights going back and forth above them. It lit the area beautifully, and Keith couldn't help but laugh softly. "Keith, follow the blue lights. I'll see you later." Shiro whispered, mildly startling him. A hug farewell, and Keith turned back around. Finding the blue light was a simple task, but took a bit to find out where it went. Following it onto a trail, he grinned. The trail had been walked through recently, broken twigs cleared from the path. 

Several minutes of following the lights, and Keith ended up entering another clearing, lights again strewn throughout the area. The blue lights his hand had been touching change to red, and a moment of looking lead him to another path. Following the path, it steered sharply downhill. His feet skid slightly a couple times, but he made it to the end without falling. Turning around a corner left him gapping.

The area was well lit by a mix of fairy lights, glowing flowers, and candles. Lance stood by a table, looking nervously at his watch. Walking up soundlessly, Keith wrapped his arms around him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder gently. Lance startled, but relaxed quickly, turning and smiling at Keith. His mouth dropped. the dark red standing so beautifully against his pale skin. The hair that wouldn't go into the ponytail framed Keith's face, dark violet eyes watching him. Lance's breath stuttered, but his lips curled into a smile. 

Lance himself was dressed neatly. Grey slacks, black shoes, a simple blue button up with a grey jacket. It still did wonders against his skin, the grey bringing out his eyes and the blue accenting his skin. Taking Keith's hand, pulling him close, both relished the moment. It didn't last too long, however, as Lance pulled away gently. "Mi amor, why do you always look so devishly handsome?" Keith chuckles, letting their laced hands twin together more firmly. "To make you gap. It works, does it not?" he muffles a snicker as Lance snaps his mouth shut, face flushing a bit more. Lance shakes his head lightly, laughing softly.

Guiding Keith over to the table, pulling his chair out. Keith smiles at him, giving Lance a small, soft kiss. He was thankful he had remembered to moisturize his lips, the soft press pleasant. Settling into the chair, he let Lance push his chair closer to the table. Words caught in his throat, and he fought down a brief wave of tears. Lance's hand touching his brought him out of his thoughts. Blue eyes observed his own, watching him carefully. Content with what he found, Lance laced their hands more thoroughly, thankful he could eat fluently with both hands.

"So, is this what you've been doing today?" Keith almost whispers, the soft music is the air, the atmosphere, he didn't want to break it. Lance smiles, melting Keith's heart. "Yeah, I had some help though. Can't take all the credit." his grin was contagious, Keith's own mouth grinning in response. Blue met violet, and they held eye contact. It was like someone had cloaked them in their own little world, away from the rest of the universe.

Their breathes unconsciously matching each other, hands tightening around the others. The song changed again, but the two of them didn't notice. Lance was the first to move, sucking in air lightly, pulling back slightly to get out of his chair. Their hands never left each other’s. Pulling Keith from his chair, he guided them over to the platform. 

The water glistened from the lights, shining around them. The flowers glowed brighter as the two began to slow dance. Lance hums softly, pulling Keith up against him. Holding him there, he laced his fingers more thoroughly with Keith's. It was such a simple movement, yet to the two of them it meant the world. Silent communication was key when they were paladins, and they still used it. A simple shift, a tentative touch. So simple, yet it meant so much to them.

Dancing seemed like mere minutes, and yet hours in the same way. In reality, the two easily danced for two hours, the songs melding into one another, letting the dancers get lost within each other. Twirling Keith around, he pulled him back into his arms. "Close your eyes, mi hermosa mariposa." Lance spoke so softly, his lips right by Keith's ear. The warmth of his breath caused a shiver to go through him, the nickname Lance used settling against his mind.

Closing his eyes, he felt him move away. Not far, though, as the warmth in the air was still there. "You can open now, mi pequeño gatito." Keith snorts softly, knowing a little bit of Spanish had been helpful. Opening his eyes, his breath was torn from his lips. 

Lance was knelt on one knee, blue eyes gazing into Keith's. A smile splayed on his lips, and he opens a box within his hand. The ring inside was fairly simple, yet beautiful at the same time. The breath refused to move from his lungs, and he stood frozen there, tears brimming in his eyes, yet refusing to fall out.

“I know we’ve only been dating for maybe two years, but I’ve loved you through all of them. I loved you before we started dating, before I fully understood what I felt. Your beauty, your grace. You in your entirety caught my eye. I know I used to always flirt, with whomever came around. But you where different. You….. I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t stand the thought of messing up and the one person who made me feel alive, leaving. I was so scared, losing you just…. It could never happen. I wouldn’t allow it to.” Lance sucked in some air gently, breathing slowly. Keith could feel his lip wobble slightly.

“It’s why Pidge forced my hand. Why we ended up in the closet. Why she placed truth blooms in there. Their the reason we told each other. And I cannot ever thank them enough. I wouldn’t have gotten you without them. You, Kogane, mean so much to me. I thought we had lost you when Red stopped attacking the Marmora base. Hunk had to restrain me from rushing in. When you came back with Shiro, I was so relieved. I don’t ever want to feel that again, ever. Since that day, in the closet, we’ve grown closer. Im so happy you’ve let me into your heart, pequeño ninja. I would be so lost without you, lost in an ocean that I would never make it out off.”

Lance exhales softly, gazing at Keith lovingly. “Keith Yurak Kogane, will you remain by my side forever?” Keith’s tears spilled over, rushing down him face. Lance’s eyes were worried, watching the other carefully. It didn’t matter though, as Keith yanked Lance to his feet, crushing him in a kiss.

Lance held him gently, running a hand soothingly down his back. Breaking away breathelessly, Keith nodded. Slipping the ring onto his hand, Lance took it and kissed the back of it, letting Keith lean heavily against him. “Nunca te dejaré ir, mi valiente gatito.”

They both fell into the bed, changed into pajamas. Lance combed fingers through Keith’s hair, humming a lullaby. He never thought it would go the way things went. Although he drove Keith straight home instead of the intended area, which was Pidge’s home, he couldn’t help but smile.

Texting the others to let them know things went well, thanking them for helping him set things up. It was quite, at first. Then everyone seemed to text back at once, letting him know that it was no problem and that they would do it any day. When provoked by Pidge as to what caused them to go straight home, he just answered by telling them Keith was tired and work had been rough.

Plugging in his phone, he rolled over to press closer to Keith. It was a simple movement, but Keith, half conscious, rolled closer as well. His breath fanned across Lance’s neck. Arm thrown over the others body. “Te quiero. Muchísimo. No quiero que me dejes nunca, cariño. Significas mucho para mí. Sé que no puedes entender lo que digo ahora, y que el sueño te está quitando el conocimiento. Pero que sepas siempre que te quiero, y que siempre lucharé por tenerte a mi lado. Buenas noches, cariño mío.”

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There's the link to it! If I need to add tags don't hesitate to reach out! Let me know what y'all think! Have a great timezone!

[heavencasteel420]

At this point, I’m inclined to think that the St4ncy ship-tease was written to be (a) maximally flattering to Steve but (b) minimally impactful to Nancy. I suspect that it was included in the first place because love triangles, love them or hate them, drive audience engagement; however, I don’t think Steve and Nancy were ever going to get back together. The ship-teasing is for another reason: making Steve look good.

I say this because I can clearly picture a version of S4 where a St4ncy endgame is a serious possibility, and I might not even totally hate it if the show did right by Jonathan. Here’s what it would look like:

Steve and/or Nancy express some clear interest in each other before Eddie/Robin/Dustin suggested it. Ideally, it would be established that Nancy has been hanging out with Steve and Robin, and that their (especially his) company is a source of joy in her life. At minimum, either Steve needs to be the one to tell Eddie/Robin/Dustin that he still/again has feelings for Nancy, or Nancy needs to actively seek out his company early on in the action of S4. It’s one thing to have a cheerleading section; it’s another if the section seems to have initiated the idea.

Steve and Nancy’s future goals are more aligned. I don’t think this would be super-hard to write. Have Steve explain that he’s working towards a career in a field that matches with his demonstrated skills—teacher or firefighter or (sorry) cop—and have him make some comment about how his dad’s not thrilled but fuck him. Or even have him go, “yeah, I’m staying in Hawkins until Robin graduates, then I’m going to get out, see some of the world, and decide what I’m going to do.” They can bond over looking after the kids but don’t have him mention any babies they might have—that’s just a lot, regardless of Nancy’s feelings about eventually having children. He doesn’t need to be a hard-charging entrepreneur, just show some initiative and not focus so much on procreation.

This kind of relates to the previous point, but there’s less emphasis on Steve developing into a nicer, more accepting character. That’s great for Steve, but Nancy didn’t walk away from their relationship because Steve was mean or prejudiced; it was because they had different approaches to dealing with the past and also she was more attracted to Jonathan. The emphasis should be on how they’re closer to being on the same page re: fighting Vecna. Also, it should be acknowledged that Nancy has changed over the past couple of years since their breakup; she hasn’t been standing still while Steve got his shit together.

The fact that she’s with Jonathan is taken seriously. Steve doesn’t need to go to bat for Jancy—all’s fair in love and war—but he does need to show awareness that it exists (after he starts making cow eyes at her) and display some curiosity about how Nancy feels about that relationship. Nancy, for her part, has to be further along in her maybe-things-won’t-work-out-with-Jonathan journey, or at least let Steve know that she feels conflicted and has to figure things out with Jonathan. When it’s just glances and a pre-battle confession that don’t lead to anything, her existing relationship can be quietly deemphasized, but if it’s serious, that’s a different story.

This is maybe subjective, but I think it would work better if Steve has actually moved on from the Nancy he dated two years before, and now he’s falling in love anew with the person she is now. That’s way more romantic in my book.

Instead, the ship-tease is geared to make Steve look (a) cute and sweet and fun and memeable (like the bulk of the T-websites fandom seems to appreciate) but also (b) a credible wish-fulfillment figure who kicks ass and is attractive to women (like the more Reddit-ish crowd seems to want). To wit:

He can’t be too active in pursuing Nancy or display too much awareness of Jonathan because it makes him look less “wholesome.”

He has to be all about romance and babies because that’s cute while also according him some future status as a husband and father. His career is left tacitly unmentioned, so he could be anything from a stay-at-home dad to a cop—whatever the audience finds most attractive.

The emphasis is on his being a nicer person who cares about children because that’s what the audience loves about him.

He has to have never gotten over Nancy so the audience (most of whom probably have had an unrequited crush or unwanted breakup) can feel a little sorry for him…but not outright pity him, since he’s a badass and a major female character who’s portrayed as intelligent/capable/beautiful at least seems to see him as a viable romantic partner.

In short, he’s trapped by his own popularity, because the writers are going to play it pretty safe with him, lest he lose his appeal. It’s like the Single Female Lawyer episode of Futurama. The Single Female Lawyer can’t get married, because that’s not what people watch for.

Meanwhile, Nancy may think that Steve is a great guy and like how he looks without a shirt, but, between fighting Vecna and and helping Eddie and worrying about her relationship with Jonathan and getting to know Robin and confronting her Barb-related demons and stressing over the Cali Crew’s radio silence, her frisson with him comes off like a pretty minor concern for her. Even if she and Jonathan ultimately break up, I don’t think it’ll be because of Steve—it’ll be because of college.

I could be wrong, of course. Maybe the show will do something stupid and sloppy and wave away Steve’s RV dreams so he and Nancy are more compatible all of a sudden. Maybe it’ll do something stupid and offensive and wave away Nancy’s dreams. Or maybe the world will have changed so much that this is all a moot point. But I feel like the show’s invested enough in Steve’s semi-underdog status (which the audience loves) and Nancy’s ambitiousness (which gives them some non-sexist cred) to keep them apart.