#but he was still in his teen years like gross

[spikeface]

hiiii hello if you would ever like to rant about teen wolf s6a please do <3 i'm like five episodes in on my rewatch and i'm constantly oscillating between peeking at my phone like a proper zoomer and repeatedly asking myself where is theo my friend enemy theo.... i know he's here where is he...

Omg okay I will but you have to understand that this is the distillation of years in this fandom, the once loose coal of my irritation compressed into a diamond of haterism. There are parts of this season I love, and I've made peace with some of the stuff I complain about here. 

But we're not here for peace. :)

Never Say "Pineal Gland" Again. The Ghost Riders are fun as a plot device. People being kidnapped and forgotten, a mystical train station, that's fun! Teen Wolf loves monstrous, seemingly unknowable villains, and does great with them in two ways, both of which 6A fails at:

The first option is to get inside their heads. The alpha of season 1, the kanima, the darach, the nogitsune, the Dread Doctors—all are introduced as deeply alien creatures whose inner lives and personal connections to the main cast are slowly revealed. 6A seems like it's going down that route, because the crew spends a lot of time trying to figure out and talk to the Ghost Riders, but there's no payoff: they just want to hunt forever and that's that. No personal history with anyone, no connections beyond a willingness to mind control Parrish and a bit of nervous shuffling around Lydia.

Which might still be fine, because the second option with characters like these is to make them window dressing for a charismatic villain, a la the oni with the nogitsune or the berserkers with Kate. This framework would be great for 6A if not for the fact that the villain in this case is Garrett "Brain-Eating Nazi Lion Wolf" Douglas. 

Douglas does not get enough hate. I get that he's so forgettable, what else is there to say besides "blech," but we can do better. Teen Wolf has such fun villains: they're dramatic and camp, while also intimate and personal. They have deep connections with the main crew and almost always have a sympathetic side to them. Even the nogitsune, the most alien of the main villains, has an almost plaintive moment where it reminds Noshiko that it's only doing what it was created to, what she summoned it for.

Nothing about Douglas is challenging or charismatic or sympathetic or aesthetically appealing or well acted. Davis had a bad habit of hiring wooden blonde hunks as far back as the mechanic of season 2, and now there's one as a main villain. Douglas's closest connection is to Theo—their scene in the shed is easily Douglas's most engaging, though that doesn't say much—but their connection is superficial. How would Douglas even know who Theo was if he spent those years floating unconscious in a vat? 

His final showdown is deeply unsatisfying. By the time Scott faces him, they've barely interacted so far. What does it mean for Scott to challenge him? What does he mean to Scott? How has Scott grown to be able to face him? Why does Douglas want this power anyway? Why would this Nazi be telling a Mexican-American that he'd be a fine Hitler youth? What the fuck is happening here? 

In the end, Peter rightly points out that a brain-eating Nazi is such a low bar to clear that taking a stand against him is almost meaningless. Douglas is a mockery of the complex, charismatic, intimate, high-stakes villains of previous seasons. Damnatio memoriae is too good for him; we need to remember how bad he sucks.

If Only We Knew Someone With Lightning Powers. Dropping Arden Cho unceremoniously was gross. Following that with a season of lightning villains is gross. Having Kira's only legacy be a sword that is then given away and broken, after everything she sacrificed for it, is just foul.

Would It Kill You To Let Them Go To Prom? Teen Wolf is only sporadically interested in high school life. Sometimes, it's part of the show's appealing silliness, but 6a's indifference just gets to me. This is the final semester of senior year for Scott and co., but we get absolutely nothing. Stiles misses that final semester and apparently, so do we! There's no classes, barely any lacrosse, and definitely no prom or graduation or college acceptance letters, nothing that acknowledges this season as a rite of passage. Any hints to the characters' future are condensed into a few lines at the end. C'mon, man.

It goes beyond the expectations of a teen show. Davis is so indifferent to his characters that in the next season, he makes all the characters who should be juniors into seniors, just to add on a flimsy narrative about things ending. It's lazy. 6A, to me, also really brings out how little Davis has invested in the world of Beacon Hills. Beyond Coach, there are so few consistent background characters. The high school class, lacrosse team, hospital, and sheriff's department are all prime opportunities for recurring background characters, but the show only bothers with a few (e.g. Brett&Lori, Sydney, Danny until they dropped him without even telling the actor). Nathan, Gwen, and Phoebe are all new characters, rather than people who have existed in the background before this, and after this season, they disappear again. There's very little sense of the world of either the high school or the town in general, and it stands out in a season where the whole town is being targeted.

The Newest Werewolf. Hayden was a minor character in season 5, but still had a lot going on: a close relationship with her sister strained by the supernatural; having to work a shitty job to afford the medications for her life-threatening condition; being targeted by the Doctors; being pursued by a boy she's not sure if she likes; trying to flirt when she's naturally competitive and sarcastic; DYING; being revived by Theo and then exploited by him; fighting the Demon Wolf's attempts to get in her head; deciding to help her friends; walking a fine line to survive the Beast when she's kidnapped by him; discovering Tracy's body. Her life is rich, and ends with a groundbreaking moment where she's the first person onscreen that becomes a werewolf with fully informed consent.

In 6A, she's flattened into Liam's love interest. Almost all of her scenes are with him, and her decisions are almost entirely about him. Many of her lines are about reassuring him. The exception is her dynamic with Gwen, which is much more engaging, and to me only shows how much more they could have done with Hayden if they just let her cook. Why is Liam the only one to get scenes alone with Theo? Surely she and Theo would have stuff to say to each other. Or what about her relationship with Scott? Why is Liam the only beta to have an arc with him? Where's her relationship with her sister??

The Wailing Woman. This should have been such a good season for Lydia. The groundwork is all there! Banshees have a special power over the Ghost Riders, and to placate them, the Ghost Riders create a facsimile of someone the banshee has lost.

Hmm, whom has Lydia lost recently? Whose presence might give her a vested interest in ignoring evidence of the Wild Hunt? 

Allison would have been perfect as the deceptive product of the Wild Hunt, and would have matched the framework the show established far better than Claudia. Part of the reason the Hunt falls apart is because Lydia is instantly suspicious of Claudia, and has no emotional investment in her. With Allison, Lydia would get to say goodbye to her in a way that matches the season being set in the final semester of high school. 

This would also have built on season 5 in fruitful ways. Lydia's power makes her a target in season 5, but she has almost no agency over her power. She's driven to blow Valack's head off without any control over it. 6A could be about Lydia realizing that this fake Allison has been created for her because the Wild Hunt is afraid of her power, but only if she chooses to use it.

And with respect to Allison, Lydia has more grieving to do. She's been struggling to process her death since it happened. She spends all of season 4 trying to find a way to help people as a response to Allison's death, but then is locked in a basement for the finale. In season 5, she has to be told by Stiles about Allison's role in defeating the Beast. Lydia deserves a season in which she can properly grieve Allison. She's literally the wailing woman! Let her wail!

As a final note, I'll add that I was frustrated with the way Stydia was done in this season. I dislike it strongly but waffled on including it because I've never been a big Stydia shipper, and so I worry that this criticism will seem motivated by my disinterest in the ship, rather than my frustration with its execution. My issue, though, is not Stydia itself but how little the show explored Lydia's subjectivity. 

Imho 6a substitutes Lydia remembering Stiles for her liking him, and prioritizes exploring his feelings over hers. It's clear from the first episode that Stiles is still in love with her, even if he's accepted they'll never be a romantic couple—which is one of my favorite things about Stiles, and a great part of O'Brien's portrayal. But when it comes to Lydia liking Stiles, the show focuses on how she's the one to remember him. But that's also, apparently, because she's a banshee? They focus on that at the expense of her personal feelings for him, and when the scene is most explicitly about their connection—in the memory landscape sequence of "Memory Found"—the focus is on Stiles' feelings for her. It just didn't seem like it was about Lydia in a meaningful way. The previous season, she'd been into Parrish, which is a pairing I despise and don't want to see more of, but the fact remains it was important to Lydia. The lack of exploration of how Lydia had ended it or moved on from it felt like more dismissal of her experiences. Stydia seemed like it was ultimately about making sure the audience knew Stiles is important, at the expense of a real exploration of their dynamic, which I discuss more below.

You Don't Have To Stop But Could You. So, okay, stay with me on this one. I loved that Theo returned, and thought they did some great things with him, BUT that's not why we're gathered here today. Despite enjoying a lot about Theo's dreamscape sequence, I was really frustrated by the way it framed Tara and what its impact was clearly intended to be.

I really loved the first scenes of Theo's return: he's dirty, angry, confused, and biting. He looks exhausted with his own bullshit, but instantly attacks Liam and Hayden and then threatens to kill everyone, and lies by omission about Douglas (and his own powers?), reflexively playing his cards close to the vest. He's looking out for himself and averse to personal risk. I thought they did a good job of presenting a Theo who has the potential to change, but hasn't yet. He's not really ready to see Scott and Malia again, and reverts to flippancy. 

We also get a scene in “Ghosted” of how deeply Theo hurt Malia. She hallucinates his betrayal in connection with her guilt about her own family; both of them are still deep wounds for her. It makes sense that she would lose control at the sight of Theo suddenly showing up in Scott's living room with a little "you aren't still upset about the whole shooting thing, are you?"

But then the episode ends!

And the next one starts with the Tara dreamscape.

Again, I don't want to sound like I disliked this sequence full stop. I've written meta about its relationship with Scott's dreamscape sequence and what it says about Theo, but I remain frustrated with how the basic impact is about generating sympathy for Theo. Tara is the victim the viewer knows least (vs Josh or Tracy or Scott), her death the most ambiguous (we only see Theo watching in what could be a daze, like the one pre-resurrection Tracy was in), and her only role in this sequence is to hurt Theo. She doesn't have any subjectivity beyond that: she's not Theo's sister, betrayed by her little brother's violence towards her, ready to explain her point of view. She's a gory ghost who barely reacts to Theo, a walking prop.

Theo, meanwhile, is there to be pitiable. When he was pulled under, he was powerful, and attacking everyone, and wearing shoes. Now he wanders barefoot through the hospital, and at the sight of Tara, he just runs. Beyond some frustration with the door, there's none of the vicious anger he showed in season 5. 

To be clear, it's not that I think Theo shouldn't be pitied or doesn't have this vulnerability, and Cody Christian does a stellar job with this scene, which is also beautifully atmospheric. But in terms of the impact of the scene on the viewer, it's there to create pity for Theo at the expense of grappling with any of the violence he did. It frustrates me because the sequence easily could have addressed his violence while still making him look sympathetic.

Theo was trapped in and perpetuated a cycle of violence. The viewers don't know the full truth about Tara, but we do with Scott, Josh, and Tracy. Theo killed them. What's more, we know all three tried to have a connection with him: Josh followed him post-resurrection despite the fact that Theo had been the one to kill him the first time; Scott wanted Theo in his pack, trusted him, and tried to be there for him; and Tracy was in love with him, trying to help him, without judgement, even when he was at his lowest. It would have been much more meaningful to have Theo face them instead of Tara, or at least in addition to her. 

It also would have been more meaningful to have Theo reckon with his capacity to do violence, rather than his fear of suffering it. We all know Theo is scared of being hurt; Theo knows most of all. He's even honest about it: "I don't want to be one of the bodies, it's that simple." What he has more trouble with is confronting how he perpetuates a cycle of violence, or even that he's in one. The dream sequence as it is does have Theo confront the idea of an endless, unchanging cycle, but it would have been much more effective to have that cycle be about the violence Theo did.

Think about how it would have looked if, once Tara dragged Theo down, Theo went on to reenact any of the violence he did, over and over and over. He could push Tara off the bridge over and over, but it'd be even more impactful to have him kill Josh over and over. He already killed him twice, but now he has to do it forever.

Scott stands there, barely on his feet, betrayed and weary, and says, "Now you have to kill me yourself." 

And Theo does, over and over. 

Tracy tells him, over and over, "You're hurt. You need time to heal." 

And Theo kills her for it, over and over. 

You'd get the same progression towards despair, but now it would be much more about Theo confronting what he did. It would still be a sympathetic depiction of a lost kid, shaped and trapped by brutal forces, while addressing his own choices, and why Malia might be so upset to see him.

As it stands, the sequence undermines Theo's history and Malia's reasonable reaction to him. We get her flashback/hallucination, Theo's inflammatory return, but then an episode break, followed by an extended sequence in which Theo is nothing but helpless and pitiable, finally followed by Malia's rage. Her reaction is divorced from the catalysts of the previous episode, and the scene of her anger even contains a callback to the dreamscape ("you don't have to stop"). I've made my peace with it, but it remains frustrating as a choice from Davis, who wrote this episode.

Malia Middle Name Tate.* Again, there's a lot I love about what they do with Malia in 6A, but now is not the time for love. So much of Malia's screentime is about Stiles and Peter at her expense. Those are both huge relationships for Malia, but they're not explored on her terms. 

The last we saw of her and Stiles, they'd broken up over a complicated situation. Stiles ends things at a self-destructive moment, as Malia tells him she would accept him even if he did kill Donovan. In some ways, I think Stiles is punishing her for this acceptance out of self-loathing, but it's also about the fact that Malia's acceptance is clearly tied to her own desire to kill the Desert Wolf. She accepts what might be Stiles' violence because she wants him to accept that she plans to kill Corinne, and Stiles isn't cool with that. The two never speak about it again, though, even though Malia subsequently doesn't kill Corinne. By season 6, the two obviously have baggage, as seen in their clash over the senior portrait. 

Once Stiles is gone, we see that he's still her anchor. I thought this was an interesting choice, because Scott and Allison's breakup was what forced Scott to be his own anchor. It would have been interesting to see that for Malia, or for her to decide that she still wants Stiles to be her anchor as a friend, or any sort of arc where she processes the breakup or her own feelings or makes decisions about Stiles for herself. Instead, the anchor concept seems to exist to remind the viewer how important Stiles is in general: he's Malia's anchor! Look how lost she is without him! Stiles simply must be rescued from the Wild Hunt! Malia isn't the one to break through the veil, however, and after he's back, there's still no sense of what this means for Malia. Her subjectivity re: Stiles is just ignored. After he comes back, she doesn’t even get a scene to greet him.

It's even worse with her "arc" with Peter. The last we see of those two is in the finale of season 4, when Peter betrays her. After going out of his way to get close to her, he literally tosses her aside and tries to kill her friends. Season 5 begins with Malia confirming that she's Malia Tate, not Malia Hale. She then forgets Peter until he returns from the Wild Hunt, when she goes to take his pain and is suddenly struck with the memory of his betrayal. That's the entirety of their relationship. 

Meanwhile, Peter is busy carving the biggest revenge spiral of his life in Eichen, suggesting he hasn't changed much from the end of season 4, before he's swept away by the Wild Hunt. I didn't dislike his scenes with Stiles at the train station, but to the extent that it's about his relationship with Malia, it cuts out Malia. Stiles' contempt for how alone Peter is as a result of his actions is good, as is his desperate plea for Peter to help his daughter, if no one else—but Malia sees none of this. She goes to Peter after his return only because he seems marginally less horrible than Theo, and still doesn't trust him. And why would she? Why would the viewer? We saw how big that revenge spiral was. 

Peter does go on to sacrifice himself for Malia, but these moments are always about Peter and what he wants, and they lead to one of the most abhorrent moments of the show. The fact that Malia is forced to call him "dad" despite obviously not wanting to is just gross. It's all about what Peter wants, and honestly, why would he even want this? It's meaningless because it's forced, and it's especially foul that Lydia is written to be the one telling Malia to do this, given Peter's history with her. I hate it!!

Meanwhile, where is Henry, the father she chose? Was he kidnapped by the Wild Hunt? Did she ever tell him she's a werecoyote, or about the Desert Wolf? 6A won't tell us. We see in "Ghosted" that her mother and sister's death still haunts her, but does the season do anything with that? No.

The last grump I'll add re: Malia's treatment is how little she gets with Theo. I've already talked about how I disliked how her anger at Theo is framed, and it was especially frustrating that it wasn't followed up with anything beyond an angry quip in the finale. Liam gets a series of scenes (good ones!) where he works through his anger at Theo, and it's incredibly frustrating that Malia, after having a much more intimate dynamic with him in season 5, gets so little. I despise the writers' choice to ignore them.

*This is a tiny thing but in the birth certificate prop for Malia in season 4, you can see that her name is written as Baby Malia. So. Technically. Malia is her middle name. Baby: a beautiful name for a baby.

Mieczysław. You knew this was coming. My frustration with how Stiles was handled this season is about the ways in which it's done at the expense of other characters, and even of Stiles himself.

The premise of 6a was to work around O'Brien's absence by making it a plot point. Stiles becomes the focus of the season, but theoretically, characters could have space to work through their relationships with him, and potentially plenty more for dynamics with other characters. 

But in practice, the writers clutter the season with repeated empty claims about Stiles' importance that stifle exploration of Stiles' relationships. Yes, he's Malia's anchor, but what does that mean now, after season 5, and how does it change over the course of the season? Yes, he's Scott's best friend, but again, what does that mean now? How does the season help them grow and develop? A lot of screentime is given to the sheriff, who gets long soliloquies about Stiles' importance, but there's no sense of development in their relationship or even any context. We don't, for instance, get any sense of what it means for the sheriff to have forgotten his own son, or how this revelation relates to things like refusing to believe him about the supernatural in 3a. On top of all of that, the sheriff's consistent presence and the primacy of his relationship with Stiles only emphasizes how marginalized every other parent-child relationship is in 6a: Scott&Melissa, Lydia&Natalie, Malia&Henry, Liam&Dr. Geyer, and Hayden&Valerie get almost nothing. I wonder if Noshiko has any thoughts on the importance of your child being remembered.

Some of the references to Stiles are poignant—the Jeep, for instance—but their impression overall is that the writers thought that Stiles could be replaced with cardboard cutouts. We get a parade of props, disconnected anecdotes and lore, the useless introduction of Elias (never seen before or after and gives them no new information<3), and of course, my worstie, Claudia.

Claudia's presence is a reference to Stiles, but not meaningfully about him; Stiles only finds her at the very end, and instantly rejects her. The biggest arc re: Claudia is the sheriff's, and while I'm not, like, against the idea of him grieving Claudia, it's done at the expense of Lydia's arc. To the extent that Lydia focuses on Claudia, the show seems to be trying to suggest that Stiles is important to her, but the message is undermined by the cheap cipher. Is she thinking about Stiles because he's important to her, or because there's a fake lady in his house right now? Is her relationship to him about her feelings for him, or her role as a banshee?

And again, all of this is at the expense of something like Lydia's grief for Allison.

If we needed to pad Stiles’ absence with proxies for him, why not at least give us characters who explore his dynamic with the pack? Why not, say, a flashback scene of when baby him met baby Lydia? We have actors for both their younger counterparts. Or, better yet, why not scenes between Stiles and Scott as little kids? Again, we have the actors, and it would allow for more exploration of their relationships. It’d be especially meaningful for Sciles, given their anxieties this season, but I have more thoughts on that below.

The Alpha of Beacon Hills. The extent to which Scott is shut out of arcs and relationships is bananas. There are things I like (Scott&Liam, Scott&Lydia&Malia as besties), but we're here for the parts that frustrated me, which were numerous:

His future and dreams. This builds on my frustration with Davis's general disinterest in the characters' lives, which I discussed above, but it was an unresolved plot point for Scott last season and gets worse this season. Season 5 (last semester) made Scott's future more tenuous than ever. His dream is UC Davis's prestigious vet science program, and he's working his ass off to get into it: he's got school, extracurriculars, his job, and the constant life-or-death chaos of people trying to kill him or wreak havoc he's told he's duty-bound to stop. Season 5 Scott seems despairingly resigned to things always getting worse, but also throws himself into things like AP Bio, despite his friends' lack of faith in him (hated that scene) and his teacher's negging. Then, of course, Theo and the Dread Doctors show up, and the last we hear is that Scott has missed a deadline for a scholarship. In 6a, he's excelling at his psych elective (AP Psych?), but is still stressed about how much class he's missed.

Then we get nothing until the very end of the season, when Stiles asks in passing: "Real question is, how did you get into UC Davis?" Why is this such a tiny moment? Why is Stiles so uncharacteristically snide about this achievement, when he's been one of Scott's biggest cheerleaders, and this season is meant to be a Sciles season? Wtf?

Scira. Not one word about Scott dealing with Kira's absence. Not one word!! Everyone jail forever!

Scott&Peter. This could have been such a juicy arc. Scott's last interaction with Peter was the season 4 showdown, but Scott still has hope for Peter—a hope he's committed to even when it causes friction with his best friend. Peter's return and his tentative interest in connecting with his daughter would have been a great basis for exploring what it means for Scott to have this hope, or just an exploration of Scott and Peter in general. Peter is Scott's first supernatural villain and his own supernatural origin story, and Scott forgets him. The show gives us a beautifully devastating scene where Scott goes to help a seriously injured man and, in taking his pain, discovers that this was the man who caused him some of his own worst pain! Scream!

But then… nothing? Scott and Peter barely have interactions, never mind a meaningful dynamic. It could have been so powerful. Such a waste.

Scott&Theo. Some of this was really good! The moment when Scott walks into his house and suddenly sees the kid who murdered him standing in his living room, seemingly have once again convinced Liam to believe him! I loved it! We get a very rare moment of Scott being at the edge of his rope, ready to snap, and we can see Theo's shock. The last time he saw Scott, Scott was angry but also desperate to get away, shaking when he got close to him, staring at him with big sad eyes. But now things have changed! You can see it hit Theo. That's so good, and there are elements of the Sceo arc in this season that I adore.

But after that dynamic return, Scott and Theo split up, and we don't get any of the charged conversations and confrontations that Liam and Theo get—why not? It would have been so good!

What moments we do get prioritize Theo's perspective. In the finale showdown with Douglas, for example, he mocks Scott that a lone wolf never survives. At that point, Theo makes his entrance to declare: "He's not alone. He's got a pack."

This is so significant! It directly recalls the murder, when Theo trapped Scott alone and told him he didn't have a pack. Beyond that, Theo's risking his life in a seemingly impossible fight, just to back up Scott, without even claiming he's part of the pack, and in facing Douglas, he's confronting a demon from his own past.

But that's the point. This moment is mostly about Theo. We barely get Scott's reaction, beyond the shock of Theo's arrival, and then the tone changes with Malia and Peter's arrival. We don't get Scott's perspective on that moment, or Theo at this point, or anything else with them. Blech.

Scott&Melissa. I could go on about how their dynamic was dropped about halfway through season 2, but I'm gonna try to keep it to 6a here so please know I'm exhibiting great restraint! Anyway, they get so little. There's that devastating scene in "Ghosted" when Scott hallucinates that his mother's been murdered and doesn't yet realize it. So haunting, and potentially so resonant to their relationship: does he worry that being a constantly targeted werewolf has doomed her? That he can't protect her? That he's already lost her in some sense? How does it tie in to the fact that she's then taken by the Wild Hunt, and he's seemingly doomed to lose her, that he's lost her already? We barely linger on that moment.

We see him teach her to use a weapon, but the moment's gravity is ignored for the joke of her electrocuting her son. Melissa's arc with Chris is half-played for laughs, even though it represents a significant move on her part to become more involved. Why now? What does it mean for her? For that matter, what does it mean for her to date the man who once treated her son like a rabid dog? Does she even know about that? Does her son have any feelings about their relationship? We don't know. 

Scott&Stiles. Omg, ok, where to begin. This should have been the Sciles season, and its faults had nothing to do with the acting—the love and loss was palpable for Posey and O'Brien, and I think that gives their arc the poignancy people love about this season. They act their hearts out around some really awful writing.

The writing starts off well. It seems like the season is going to address some of the fallout and unresolved communication issues of season 5. Stiles, who's still petrified of losing everyone, is obsessed with being "needed," while Scott, who's been shackled to a nightmare since he was bitten, is desperate to no longer be required to fight. This recalls a lot of the tension of 5x01, which was never really addressed, and it's a great theme for the final semester of senior year.

The two also struggle to articulate how much they mean to each other, which seems like a lingering issue from s5. By the end of 5b, they'd affirmed that they were on the same page, in the same pack, and needed each other, but hadn't articulated their anxieties about losing each other. A season in which they're separated is the perfect way to explore it, and at first, it seems like they're going to. Scott uses his psych class to guess at how Stiles' anxieties are manifesting, as if it's been on his mind. He asks nervously if Stiles wants to split up (to look for clues), and seems relieved when Stiles refuses, as if the question is about something deeper.

Stiles, for his part, answers with meaningful intensity. He's clearly trying to express that he doesn't want to lose Scott, in the same way that his obsession with being "needed" is about not wanting to lose people, and being convinced that a crisis is the only way to hold on to them. Scott, meanwhile, sees crises as what get between him and his connections to people—they're what take people away from him, and him away from his life with them. This is a great theme to explore for Sciles, because the answer to both issues is the fact that their friendship has always been bigger than supernatural crises—older than Scott being bitten, bigger than the Wild Hunt. Scott could assure Stiles that he's never going to lose him—not because Scott needs his help, but because he wants his friendship. He'll never draw away even if it means tearing apart the Wild Hunt. Stiles, for his part, could assure Scott that no matter how many crises there are, how often Scott is forced to be the true alpha, he'll always be Stiles' friend first: "You'll always be human to me." Both significant statements after s5!

At the very least, the season seems like it's going to make these two articulate how much they mean to each other. In one of my favorite moments of the season, Stiles realizes he's going to be taken and tries to talk to Scott. O'Brien's acting is so good here, because you can see that Stiles is beyond trying to explain what the problem is. He just wants to tell Scott something like goodbye, how much Scott means to him—but he can't. There's no way he's saying goodbye, and his love for Scott is too big to articulate.

And Posey's reaction is soooo good. You can see Scott take in that Stiles is clearly struggling with something, and that this struggle is significant in the same way as the one from the previous season. He won't push Stiles to talk right now, and wants Stiles to know he isn't drawing away: "Tell me later." At the same time, he's holding Stiles to actually come talk to him, instead of stewing like he did in s5: tell me later.

But then Stiles is gone! Scream!

And then, once Stiles is gone, Scott struggles with how to articulate how much Stiles means through the hole his absence creates. All he can say is that it feels like he's missing a limb, and when it comes time to remember Stiles in "Memory Found," he gets so overwhelmed with how much Stiles means to him that he almost dies. 

All of this suggests that the payoff for this struggle is them finally articulating what they mean to each other--in the most basic way! They're traumatized eighteen year old guys, no one is expecting speeches. Just something about how their friendship answers some of their most existential worries: "I still got you."

But instead we get:

SCOTT: They still need us. STILES: They'll always need us. And, you know, I... I need you. You know that. SCOTT: I need you, too. I'm gonna miss you. STILES: No, really, I need you, though. Uh... I lost my license in the Hunt, so you have to drive.

Why is Davis so allergic to meaningful expressions of love in the context of characters leaving? So many characters disappear with no goodbyes (Jackson, Isaac, Danny), or only the briefest one (Kira, Derek). O'Brien and Posey do their best with this scene—both of them seem near tears—but the writing's joke-y tone works against them at every turn. It's Stiles' final scene before the finale, and the capstone to Scott's greatest relationship in the season and arguably his greatest in the show, and it could have been so much stronger if Davis weren't an infuriating mix of apathetic and cowardly.

This concludes this episode of Spikeface’s Sundry 6A Snipes! Thank you for letting me rant<3. 

[piperslovebot]

Probably too early to judge since I haven't watched the show and only saw clips from TikTok and whatnot, but Georgie and Mandy are SO icky. Mandy's friend's son is the same age as Georgie AND they went to school together.

[apocalympdicks]

rewatching miraculous ladybug

im a adriens dad hater

EPISODE 2 AND YOU FUCKIN MANIPULATED A CHILD LIKE LITERALLY

[celabi]

hm.. dad scummy mouche…hm I’m going to get him pregnant hm.

i feel like, no matter how many years have passed since scaramouche has evolved into a proper man and has some what [not really] outgrew his scummy teenage and early adult years, he still gets a little embarrassed around you. like, no matter how long you’ve been married, or how many times you’ve seen him nude, he can’t help but look away shyly when he catches you staring, or sigh shakily when you compliment him. so, he’s glad that he’s got his little helper to help him express his love to you on the days where he’s feeling just a little embarrassed.

thirty years old. no longer this scrawny teen with pimples and greasy hair, no. he has stubble on his chin, tattoos on his arms, piercings in his ears…and yet he gets nervous around his wife, and bribes his daughter with ice cream, to compliment her for him.

scaramouche hums when he feels a little tug on his pants, and when he turns his head down to see what it is now; he meets the eyes of his little girl, who stares back up at her dad with gleaming cheekiness. he smiles, and wipes the dish soap off his hand and on the fabric of his shirt before bending down and scooping her up into his arms. she beams happily, reaching up to tug on his purple hair. “daddy! mama told me to say to you… ‘thank you’ and that she thinks you’re very um, gor—jus? as well!” her little grubby hands tug on his locks with more force then she probably realises, and he can slowly start to feel a headache coming along from how hard she’s pulling. “she’s right! you are gor—jus daddy!” she swings her feet, twisting and turning the strands of his hair between her little fingers.

“hm, not as gorgeous as mommy, though…” he sighs wistfully, staring blankly at the wall. the little girl in his grasp playfully gags at the look in her fathers eyes. “dad! that’s so gross! don’t you think you love mommy a bit too much…?” her chubby fingers moves to poke at his cheek, which drags him back down to earth.

he shakes his head in slight, “no, mommy likes it.”

“are you sure? mommy probably thinks you’re weird with how much you look at her…”

he frowns, “yeah, okay… that’s enough of that.” and bends down to place her back to the floor, making her huff and puff in disbelief. he sighs, rubbing his temples: “how about instead of poking fun at daddy… you go and tell mommy that I think she looks pretty, and that i’ll make dinner for us tonight.” he shoulders sag, making him chuckle as he lightly pats her head. “aw again? your cooking blows, and mommy is gonna get sick of you if you tell her that all the time…”

he tuts, and shakes his head. “yeah right… she had all of her life to get rid of me, i’m not going anywhere, anytime soon… so suck it.” he teases lightly, flicking her forehead, which has her scowling.

“ugh, dad you stink so much!” she stomps her little feet as she runs off. “this is why mommy always stops to say hi to mr.capitano at school!”

“huh?! she does what now?!”

scaramouche likes to think he’s a good influence on his daughter, but his wife digresses.

scaramouche watches as his daughter pulls you by the hand and towards the front door, where she carelessly flops on her behind and raises her legs up into the air, shoes dangling off her feet. “please tie my shoes mama!”

he sighs, leaning his cheek in his palm. a cozy little home with both of his favourite girls… life is good, he thinks, and mentally pats his past self on the back for having such amazing rizz… [stealing your underwear and chewing your gum had really paid off]. the sounds of tiny feet padding along the floor pulls him out of his thoughts, makinghim look down, where his little girl is beaming back up at him with her arms stretched, waiting for her hug. heof course does, and bends down to pick her up, where her head flops onto his shoulder. “bye papa, see you after school!” so energetic, so early in the morning… scaramouche doesn’t know how she does it. either way, he huffs, and moves his hand up to smooth down her hair, ridding the knots and strays caused by her excitement.

“have a good day, baby… and remember what I told you? if any of those nasty boy teachers smile at mommy when she drops you off… tell them that your daddy kills people.”

“got it, dad!”

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”  You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend). 

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond. 

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right. 

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good. 

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list: 

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes. 

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says. 

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza. 

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you. 

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California. 

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters. 

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly. 

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.  

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.  

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break. 

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed. 

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with. 

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee. 

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate. 

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers. 

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes. 

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA. 

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius. 

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again. 

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club. 

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave. 

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet. 

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!” 

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance. 

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household. 

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!” 

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that. 

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?” 

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man. 

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” 

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous. 

Which means it has to be about someone. 

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch. 

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind. 

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend. 

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!” 

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” 

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end. 

– 

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you. 

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you. 

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet. 

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her. 

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile. 

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’. 

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now. 

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary. 

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent. 

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne. 

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match. 

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin. 

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly. 

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil. 

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience. 

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them. 

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster. 

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike. 

Goddamn Eddie Munson. 

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side. 

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you. 

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high. 

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head. 

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be. 

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows. 

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions. 

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery. 

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

– 

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary. 

You’ll miss him when you graduate. 

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one. 

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day. 

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his. 

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for. 

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom. 

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too. 

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table. 

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana. 

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded. 

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin. 

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies. 

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others? 

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.” 

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him. 

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified. 

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol. 

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother. 

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds. 

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

– 

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him. 

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back. 

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd. 

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true. 

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster. 

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song. 

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash. 

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin. 

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot. 

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them. 

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself. 

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score. 

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jason tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.” 

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline. 

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there. 

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!” 

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else. 

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones. 

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

– 

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time. 

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms. 

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked. 

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known. 

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.” 

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with. 

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.” 

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does. 

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true. 

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him. 

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke. 

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely. 

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart. 

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow. 

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue. 

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling. 

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted. 

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate. 

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship. 

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud. 

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways. 

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed. 

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to. 

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull. 

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

-

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[hana-no-seiiki]

WHAT’S UP DANGER?

— [ CH 01 ] WITH GREAT ABILITY COMES GREAT ACCOUNTABILITY

pairings: yandere! various (batfam, spiderverse) x miles morales! reader

tw/cw: no yandere themes for this chapter, characters get aged up later on but are teens to young adults now, reader is gender neutral but characters refer to them with masculine terms (hijo, man, dude), spoilers for spiderverse movies. but ofc since this is a crossover it won’t be completely the same.

status: unedited

[masterlist] [next]

REPLY TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST

“Mama, stop you’re covering me with your saliva—!” You groaned as you made a half-assed attempt at pushing your mother away.

It was the first day of your attendance at Gotham Visions and you weren’t the least bit nervous. Not at all. Totally. It wasn’t as if you were just thrusted into this situation with no choice whatsoever in addition to the pressure of your family’s wholeass livelihood on your shoulder. No. You were completely cool with this situation. In fact, you were so cool that you’re almost late to your first day of classes.

“But you look so adorable, mi hijo!” Your mother rubbed her face all over yours, messing up whatever you decided to put on.

“Papa what are you doing? Arrest this woman at once, for gross misconduct or whatever—“

“You do look adorable, and if I do I’d have to be fair and arrest you for vandalism.”

You freeze at your father’s not so subtle call out, before swiftly slithering away from your mother’s bear-like grip.

“Augh! I’m going to be late! Hasta luego!”

It was August. The start of a new school year for you. A new life away from your family and friends.

Gotham Visions University. A campus filled with elitists; fancy rich people. The cream of the crop. Your future school. Being a scholar there would have been fine, amazing even! If it wasn’t something you won through a lottery. You felt like a thief, an imposter. Going to a school for prodigies and rich kids as an average old joe is one thing, going to a school for prodigies and rich kid as a poor lottery student is another.

“[Y/N]! How you doing man? Lookin fancy. The uniform so fits ya.” A kid hangs his arm around you. If you were being completely honest you weren’t sure about his name, but you hung out often for basketball and other activities around the neighborhood. With the amount of people that knew you around the community, it was difficult keeping all those faces in your head so you often covered it up with nicknames.

“Psh. See ya next friday for shawarma?” You winked, cringing a little inside for your actions.

But to your utter surprise, the kid in turn blushes before giving you a massive grin. “You bet. My treat!”

And just a few seconds afterwards, he hits you at the back of the head before leaving, “Hey! Ow.”

“[Y/N]! Good luck on school dude! We’ll miss ya! Don’t be a stranger okay? We’re still friends even if he isn’t here.” He waves you goodbye before returning to your mutual posse of friends.

You wave back at them, your expression slowly turning into a solemn one. “I’ll miss ya guys too.”

Grabbing your trusty wireless headphones, you make your way down the block. Sticking random name-tags you drew this morning to distract yourself from the overflowing anxiety in your system.

Unfortunately, it never is a good idea to be so distracted when walking by yourself.

“Contra!” You hissed as your body hit the pavement. No doubt ruining your uniform that your mother painstakingly agonized over getting perfect and neat for your first day.

Then, the sound of a police siren entered your ears.

Can your day get any worse?

“What did I tell you about not looking both sides twice before crossing the streets?”

Your father’s sermon began.

This . . . was going to be a long ride.

“That I shouldn’t do it.” You replied, completely uninterested in the conversation and looking out from the window.

“You’re lucky it was me y’know! What if some deranged man decided to run you over?”

Your faced smooshed on your hand as your elbow rested on the window sill. “I’d send my cop of a father after them then.”

“Don’t act cute with me [Y/N].”

“But it works oh, so, well.”

Your father sighed, “It does.”

“But with great ability comes great accountability!

“Yeah yeah, that isn’t how the saying goes! . . . It was my bad it won’t happen ag…” Right as you were about to tune out of the interaction with your father once more you notice a bunch of people looking towards your direction.

People you knew.

And now they were taking pictures.

“Wow, aren’t you the popular kid?”

“Mier — Can’t you run the red light or shout at them or something? My poor privacy is being invaded!” You desperately tried to hide yourself with your hands but to no avail. The sounds of clicking only grow louder, and your father’s pace on the car slower.

“Yeah yeah~ not this cop.”

“Papa!”

Suddenly, the attention is ripped off of you as a loud crashing noise resounds from above. “Woah.”

Your dad flicked his tongue in annoyance as he checked the damages. “Those vigilantes! Red Hood is one thing, but that Spider-man partner of his. I swear. He just swings by without a care in the world. I just got this repaired last week!”

“I think he saved you from having to get yourself fixed as well. You know, in a hospital. The place with all the bills that just tears holes into your wallet.” You checked the situation outside, confirming the lack of interest in your situation as people crowded spider-man’s fight. “And myself from a mob too. That man’s a whole multitasker and a half.”

“If you ever get a sibling, remind me not to teach them cheek.”

“That if depends on you, yknow.” You gave your dad the smuggest grin you can muster.

Hey, if he’s going to make you face hell for the next few years you might as well give him a portion of it while you had the time.

The car halts, signaling your arrival at the aforementioned hell. “Study well. Our future depends on you, [Y/N]. Love ya.”

“I know.” You groaned, struggling a little to pull your baggage outside of the vehicle and leaving as soon as you got it secured within your grasp.

You are only able to take a few steps when your dad interrupts with the police car’s loudspeaker.

“Where’s my ‘I love you too, papa’ huh?”

“Papa! Seriously?” You screeched, unimaginably embarrassed beyond belief.

“I love you.”

“Right in front of my future peers?”

“I loovveee youuu.”

“On the first day of class?!”

“Mwah mwah—“

“I LOVE YOU TOO!” You relented. Making a sharp turn from facing the originator of your future bully’s material, towards the entrance of Gotham Visions.

Once you get in you make an attempt to greet the people there, but is cut off by their mocking voices referring and imitating the situation earlier.

The embarrassment fills you up once more and you fail to notice your path intersecting with another.

Directly bumping into people seriously knocks the wind out of a dude. That’s probably why those people in those ‘mangas’ he always made you read fell in love at first sight. They were just so light-headed that they couldn’t think clearly.

“P-pretty girl—“

“It’s nice to meet you too.” said pretty girl as she steadied your form. Noticeably less affected by the impact “You’re quite the looker yourself.”

“Ack, sorry! I just get nervous around- yeah.”

She giggled. Oh lord, even her laugh was pretty. “Lovely papa you got there.”

“Augh, you don’t have to remind me.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, slowly regaining your balance.

The bell rings. The real hell has officially begun.

Once pretty girl made sure you were alright, she began running off.

Wow, even the way she ran was pretty.

“W-w-wait, what’s your name?”

“Gwen!”

You sighed as left you behind in the crowd of students.

This wasn’t so bad, you thought. You made one acquaintance at the very least. Maybe your new life at this school would be better.

Your new life at Gotham Visions was, in fact, not getting better.

You were fumbling through the motions like a newborn thrown to the wolves. If you hadn’t built a relatively tight knit friendship with Gwen you were sure you would have ran away by now.

Everyone always ignored you when you greeted them. Your dormmate didn’t even see you as someone worthy to interact with and would often stay awake at ungodly hours doing whatever the hell he was doing on his laptop while you suffered from his ‘background music.’ Your parents only ever talked to you about academics when it was the last thing you wanted on your mind at weekends. You were always, always late to class.

You were practically falling apart at the seams.

You just . . . wanted everything to end. But you couldn’t bring yourself to defy your parents and so you brought it up to your studies. Purposely failing exams so you’d be kicked out soon enough.

“A zero. How terrible. A few more of those and you’ll have to kick me out huh?” You looked at your Physics teacher with a loosely smug look on your face. You hated Physics, the sciences and mathematics the most out of all subjects. Everything second you spent learning about it could have been spent drawing or doing something you actually adored.

You shrugged, “Maybe I’m just not right for this school.”

“If a person wearing a blindfold picked the answers on a multiple choice exam at random do you know what score they would get?”

“. . . Around 25%?”

“That’s right!” She flicked her pen towards you face before pressing the butt end of it to your paper.

“The only way they would get all the answers wrong . . . “ She then twirls around, marking your grade from 0 to 100 by placing the respective numbers to each side. “Is to know which answers are right.

“You’re trying to quit, and I’m not going to let you.” The smug look only your face slowly dissipates and transfers to her own visage. “Now I know you’ll probably try to worm yourself out of this which is why I’m calling in back-up.”

“Wayne.” The woman moved her gaze to your classmate. A strained smile on her lips as she stared him down.

You didn’t know the billionaire’s son that well, or any of your peers but Gwen for that matter. Just that he was as stuck up as his gelled up hair. Always sneering at you whenever you had to sit beside him with those uncannily pretty green eyes of his. You thought that it may have been your smell or something. Maybe he could tell how poor you are in comparison by your scent. But judging by the fact that he was just as much of a loner as you were if not more, you’re beginning to think otherwise.

“I’m assigning you two an essay, not on physics but on yourselves. What kind of person you want to be. I know you two are quite different in terms of personality and backgrounds, but I have a feeling it’ll all work out.” She walked behind the two of you, roughly placing her hands on both of your shoulders before squeezing you closer together. “And no, Damian. I’ll know if you decide to finish it all yourself. Don’t test me.”

“You two are dismissed!”

Damian takes one look at you and you can tell he’s listed a thousand things he disliked about you already. He re-secured his backpack prior to giving you one, heftily stern warning. “Listen, we’re going to meet at my house this weekend. 6pm. Don’t be late.”

“Sure! Where’s your . . .” and before you could even complete your question, he was gone. Just like that. “. . .house. . .”

You grabbed your own belongings with a moan; betting that the trust fund kid’s own probably costed a hundred if not a thousand more times than yours.

You swiftly go to your room. Mind completely empty and disassociated before an idea crosses your head.

You dial in the numbers on your phone before you could even think properly.

“Hey, Unc. Mind if I come over?”

No matter where you went. The route to your Uncle Aaron’s house was always in the back of your head. He was your true home. The only man who understood you — who made the effort to understand you.

You spot him on his couch, looking as cool and swag as ever with his legs spread a little bit apart. He laughed as you smooshed your face to his window before opening it and letting you tumble into his abode.

You lazily dropped the bag you brought filled with spray paint.

He patted your head and massaged your scalp, the stress you felt already noticed and acknowledged. “Sup little dude. You lookin’ down. Is this about . . .”

“What? No. I’ve already moved on—“You shook your head. In all honesty, the only good part about Gotham Visions was that it kept you distracted from grief. But before you could continue you spot a familiar image settled in a frame. Emotions started crashing down upon you like a tidal wave. “You . . . kept the picture.”

Aaron rubbed his thumb across your cheek as your eyes began watering, “You know I can bring you over to visit him. It’s pretty close by y’know.”

“I- I think I’m good. I came here to just chill out, y’know?”

“Let’s go, I know a spot we can let some of that pent up art juice out.”

A smile. A real one. Not one you forced on yourself whenever you met with your classmates, Gwen or your parents started to make a reprise on your face. You almost don’t remember the last time you did it because of your emotions and not due of the façade of being okay.

“See ya.”

You take one last look at the photo before rushing out with your uncle.

“Mig.”

PLEASE MAKE SURE THAT YOU CAN BE TAGGED BEFORE REQUESTING TO BE ADDED.

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[foldingfittedsheets]

A silly holiday story time:

At thanksgiving one year my family had all gathered at my nana’s house for the family meal. My family are… not cooks. In more recent years I’ve had to warn my betrothed to lower their expectations of what we’re going to be fed. They hear the menu and think, well that sounds okay only to eat the blandest most poorly cooked food to ever shame our ancestors.

But the year in question I was still but a teenager and had not yet learned better food existed. I knew next to nothing about cooking, nor did my nana, so I was vaguely puzzled when she volunteered to cook a turkey.

It was good fortune really that I was in the kitchen when she came to check on it. I watched quietly while she opened the oven and made a sound of disgust at the juices surrounding the bird in its pan. She opened the oven door wider. She looked from the oven to her trash can. She looked back in the oven.

“Are you- uh- are you thinking to pour that juice in the trash?”

“Yeah! It’s gross, I’m just trying to figure out how.”

I, with my mere seventeen years of life experience looked at my fully grown wizened grandparent in bafflement. “If you pour that in the trash it’s going to melt through the bag, and also probably through the trash can itself? It’s really hot?”

She looked surprised to hear this basic law of thermodynamics, looking at the bubbling well of turkey fat as if seeing it for the first time. She then turned back to me, a child who had never learned to cook, “Well what am I supposed to do with it?”

“I think you leave it there? And-“

What I said next was cobbled together from television, pop culture, and American teens fixation on the hilarity of the tool for sex jokes-

“I think you baste it? There’s like a thing you get the juice in to squirt back on the top?”

She made a thoughtful hmm and closed the oven again, wandering back into the living room. I took a moment to imagine the alternate timeline where my family cleaned burning hot fat and melted plastic off the floor.

By and by our underwhelming dinner was completed and we tucked in. My mom keeps chickens so as we finished our food we put all our scraps into a big bowl that was going to the birds. We filled it with dry under seasoned turkey, stuffing, unfinished mashed potatoes, half eaten dinner rolls, etc.

As we were all lounging in contented fullness my brother finally arrived. Being older he had the luxury of showing up to family events hours late. He greeted everyone and went to fix himself a plate. He came out of the kitchen carrying the metal bowl of scraps, delightedly mowing through it.

My mom looked up and started laughing and we all turned to follow suit.

“What?” he asked.

“That’s the bowl for the chickens! Why did you pick that instead of making a plate?”

“This had everything!” he protested, showing us the conglomeration of every component of dinner all mixed up in one bowl.

He sat down and finished the whole massive bowl, unbothered by eating scraps, and the family watched in fascination. His only comment at the end was, “That was great! Turkey was a little dry.”

[mrshesh]

hi! do you have any general hcs for the cod:ghosts boys?

general headcanons - call of duty: ghost's

overview: general headcanons of the call of duty: ghost's boys!

pairing: none!

genre: fluff, pure tomfoolery

a/n: hi anon! i'm thrilled i finally got a request for these boys. i love them so much, it's getting a bit unhealthy. you're truly the best for requesting them! i hope you love it!

x logan walker

He sucks at puzzles. He’s smart and tactical, but puzzles are on another level of difficulty for him. 

He likes doodling a lot. If he has a pen and a surface to draw on, he will sketch a small smiley or a caterpillar. It has become such a habit that he doesn’t even think about it when he does it. It got so bad that once, Keegan called him out on it mid-doodle, leaving Logan embarrassed for a week. 

He loves the ocean, but beaches annoy him. He hates sand. (I firmly believe his hate for them is from Hesh throwing sand in his face as children.)

He has a picture of him and Hesh as kids in his wallet. He feels calmer when he looks at it, getting into the habit of peeking at it when stressed. 

He’s an avid Deftones enjoyer. He loves Beware and Diamond Eyes. 

He likes caramel-scented things, but he doesn’t like the taste of it. 

He has some insane dirt on Elias, and, of course, Hesh knows all of it. 

For some odd reason, he’s phenomenal at parallel parking. 

x david "hesh" walker

He loves movies. He can watch any genre! Horror? Great! Action? Love. Romance? Cute! Comedy? Perfect! He loves it all. Shows, however? Nope. 

He takes pride in his nails being clipped and filed at all times. He was a nailbiter in his teens, so he cares about his nails more than he should today. 

He can’t cook to save his life. 

Eminem is his go-to artist. He loves and respects many artists, but Eminem will always be at the top of his list. He loves Stan. 

He’s respectful in general.

He’s extremely secure and confident, yet he’s still pretty nervous when he talks to girls. 

He loves long car rides. Driving around in his car while listening to his favorite songs brings out a unique joy in him. 

He, unlike Logan, loves beaches! (He wasn’t the one who got sand thrown on him, so he’s thriving.) 

He hates coriander. 

x elias "scarecrow" walker

Unlike his son, Elias is great at puzzles! He’s disappointed Logan didn’t inherit that quality. He mourns it every day. 

He loves pickles. (Same.)

He manipulated himself into liking beer many years ago. 

People call him DILF all the time. It has happened too many times to count. He finds it funny, while Hesh and Logan are horrified every time. 

He doesn’t know how to put on chapstick. He puts it between his lips and swipes it back and forth, not on his lips. 

He got so much action when he was a teenager/young adult. He tells Logan and Hesh to “live a little” so they can experience that life, too. 

He doesn’t listen to music often, but when he does, he listens to either Korn or Chris Isaak. 

He adores Riley, sometimes stealing him from Hesh without warning. 

x keegan russ

He secretly enjoys ASMR. It helps him unwind and de-stress, but not sleep, surprisingly.

He’s excellent at the game Mafia. 

He has made way too many people giggle excitedly because of his voice. He finds it amusing but disturbing at the same time. He knows it’s attractive, but that many people? He has even made Elias giggle like a schoolgirl because of his vocal folds. 

Keegan strikes me as a Slipknot fan. He finds Killpop and Vermillion to be sexy. 

He loves grocery shopping. 

He talks to himself a lot. He’s antisocial and quiet around others, but when Keegan’s alone, he keeps having full-on conversations with himself. Merrick caught him doing it once - he never brought it up again. 

He enjoys lasagna a bit too much. 

He had a motorcycle phase as a young adult. It got so bad he learned how to do a wheelie on them, but his love for them has died down in the many years he’s been alive. 

He thinks wine is gross. 

x thomas merrick

He cannot stand bananas. Everything about them makes him gag. 

He gets such a rise out of being a bitch. He’s already annoying by default but strives to be even more insufferable for the fuck of it.

He, Alex, and Keegan smoke while being sentimental together at least once a month. (It’s always with Keegan and Alex - Elias, David, and Logan get left out.) 

He listens to underground metal like Sold Soul, and he thinks it makes him superior to everyone else. (And he gatekeeps it.)

He’s immune to pretty much all physical pain except for waxing. It’s enough to make him cry. 

He loved trains as a child.

His comfort song is Toxicity by System Of A Down. 

His appetite is insane. This man can eat a horse and still be hungry by the end of it. 

His calves are huge for some reason. 

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: Family Reunion

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.3K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: description of intense injuries (DISLOCATIONS/BURNS), trauma from abusive mother, description of child neglect/abuse, GROSS MEN ALERT!

—————

I'm going there to see my mother She said she'd meet me when I come

I'm just a-goin' over Jordan I'm just a-goin' over home

I'm going there to see my father I'm going there, no more to roam

I'm just a-goin' over Jordan I'm just a-goin' over home

The Tipsy Bison ha a stillness that the patrons noticed the normal presence of Joel Miller but tonight it was much more intimidating as he waited there. Ellie returns holding a glass for Joel and herself, his signature whiskey on the rocks, and water for herself.

“You’re too filled with anxiety you gotta chill,” Ellie pushes the drink to him and he gives the girl a look before accepting a drink. He takes a bitter sip from it before looking out the window to the approaching sunset.

“It’s sundown,” Joel says trying to stand but Ellie forces him back down.

“Come on Joel have some faith in him,” Ellie reassures him and he huffs but settles back in his seat taking his drink down like a shot. There seemed like a sort of tension in the air just waiting for something to snap. The door to the Tipsy Bison opens and Joel relaxes seeing it is only his brother who enters. Tommy comes over to the table and pulls up a chair.

“Look I talked to Maria and the council the best they can offer is removing both Y/n and Lila from the house until we can get to the bottom of it. But if neither Y/n nor Lila give us evidence that abuse or anything is happening in that home…” Tommy hesitates to speak knowing it would piss Joel off, “They would go back to them.”

“That’s bullshit, Tommy. She goes Y/n wrapped around her finger, she could beat her black and blue, and still she would defend her.” Joel says slapping his palm on the table.

“Look I know it’s not ideal but it’s the best we can offer,” He raises his hands in defense, “I also talked to Maria about other stuff though…Joel, when’s the last time we saw Y/n’s mother?” Both Joel and Ellie give him a confused look at the absurd question.

“Just answer for my sanity.” Tommy urges and Joel thinks about the last time they interacted.

“Probably in the early years of the outbreak, we were all together in Dallas before we split,” Joel explains and Tommy nods.

“So say like…about eighteen years ago,” Tommy says and Joel unconsciously nods if his math was right yeah around that time.

“Holy shit,” Ellie says having caught on and Joel gives her a confused look before looking over at his brother.

“What?”

“Did you hook up with Y/n’s mom?” Ellie asks quite loudly and Joel shushes her looking around to make sure no one heard. “I’m serious did you?” Joel looks over at his brother with a face reading ‘Well did you?’ he sighs pinching his bridge.

“It was only a few times,” Joel mumbles, and Tommy coughs under his breath ‘Bullshit’ which Joel glares at him but takes in the implication. “There’s no way she’s…”

“Joel think about it, I didn’t even notice it but she looks like a mixture of you and her mother but she acts fully like you,” Tommy explains and Joel looks away, “You haven’t looked at her and not seen yourself…or even Sarah?” The comment of his deceased daughter makes him turn to his brother and Tommy can see it on his face. He has thought about it, it’s been on his mind since that night he brought you home from the clearing. Why does he keep blending memories of Sarah with you when you should have no place in his mind or heart? But he can’t help it.

“Let’s say she is. You saw her reaction to seeing her mother and her father, who could be her actual father,” Joel says and Tommy gives him a look.

“That man looks nothing like her, sure Lila does but Y/n no fucking way,” Tommy says and Joel sighs putting his head in his hands. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. Your mother had to know who the father was, and if he was the father why would she keep it from him? Unless she didn’t learn until after they parted ways and there was no chance of reconnecting in this world. Too many thoughts ran through his head and he wanted to just be clear of them.

A loud crack fills the air and everyone in the bar is brought to the attention an edge to the room. Joel sits up straight and his gaze darts around at the other patrons who seem to freeze trying to listen to what that noise is. The doors to the bar swing open and Joel catches a glimpse of your father with a shotgun before it erupts into chaos.

A round shatters the table within the time Tommy flips the table over to shield them as Joel grabs Ellie protecting her from the blown-off wood.

“Joel Miller!” Derek shouts and another shot is fired but not aimed at them but at the bar. Joel flinches seeing the barkeep sent back dead before he hits the ground with the shotgun he tried using in his grasp. Other patrons scream ducking to hide from the violence happening before them. “Come on out Joel…I wanted to ask some advice you know father to father.” His voice calls out and Joel keeps his back pressed against the wood glancing over at the shotgun that lies just feet away.

“Tommy get Ellie out of here, find Maria, and get the girls out of here,” Joel whispers to his brother and Ellie gives him a look.

“We’re not leaving you, Joel!” Ellie whisper-shouts.

“I’ll be fine! Ellie listens to Tommy do everything he says,” Joel orders, and Ellie frowns but nods, “On my signal you to head to the kitchen door.” Both Tommy and Ellie nod as Joel grabs the whiskey glass calming his racing heart. Quickly he rises and throws the glass at Derek hitting him on the head Joel rushes to the bar as Ellie and Tommy rush to the kitchen doors. Derek fires at the doors as the swing closes. Leaning against the bar counter the shotgun in his hands silently looking to see it loaded with two shells.

“No one else needs to get hurt Joel,” Derek calls out sounding closer, “I’m dying to ask for your opinion since you’ve been with my wife. Do you think Y/n will be just as good?” Red takes over his vision as his finger rests on the trigger.

“I mean after I kill you I’ll go show the kid some father love,” He laughs cynically, “Before I then blow her brains out.” Instantly, Joel appears when Derek turns away shooting at his knee. Derek screams falling to the ground and Joel kicks away the shotgun and sends a swift kick to his ribs forcing him on his back.

“Where is she?!” Joel yells and Derek laughs already knowing he’s dead. “Where is she!” He roars.

“She’s dead even if you find her. Every raider wants her head on a spike.” Derek says and there’s a flash of silver as he tries to stab Joel but he easily pulls the trigger killing him right there and then. Emptying the chamber, Joel searches Derek finding a handgun with a few clips, and takes his neck. The patrons hidden in the Tipsy Bison perk up now that the threat was eliminated.

“Barricade yourselves in,” Joel says passing Derek’s shotgun off to one of the people that he’s seen on patrols, “Don’t let anyone that you don’t recognize.” He says before leaving the bar and seeing the chaos happening outside immediately thrown into fighting for his life. He was going to find you even if he was going to die doing it.

You fight at the restraints in the dark pulling with all your strength to try and free yourself. You bite down on the rag and pull your left hand with all your strength feeling the burn and pain as you scream. A sickening pop as your thumb is dislocated immediately swells and hurts as you scream. Sliding your hand free as it fits through the restraint, you reach over to start undoing the other strap. Only a sliver of light comes from outside but it’s past sunset which only makes it darker. With your other hand free you sit up and work at the restraints on your feet, your stomach aches with the still raw burns. The sudden pop that fills the air makes you freeze until you hear screams fill the air. Hopping off the table and feeling around for a light switch the room was bathed in light blinding you for a second. Grabbing the door handle and tugging at the door handle it doesn’t budge as more pops and screams fill the air. Looking around the basement it just looks like storage of random junk of whoever was the previous owner. In the far back, you find an old recurve bow with a quiver of arrows. Slinging the bow and quiver over your shoulder you head to the window high in the air. Pushing the table as it scratches the floor to the window you stand on it undoing the latch, easily breaking the flimsy screen where you slide the bow and quiver through before sliding out afterward. Slinging the quiver your shoulder already nocking an arrow feeling the pain in your thumb holding the bow but you push through. You are between two houses and you follow to where the window to your bedroom should be it is slightly opened and you push it further and you climb inside. You are silent as you leave the room entering the hallway on the first floor, creeping along the walls peering into any open rooms not finding anyone on the first floor but the aftermath of what you assume the raiders preparing their attack. You hear movement upstairs and you freeze aiming your bow at the stairs where you hear the heavy footsteps, a man most likely moves amongst the top floor and you map out where he’s heading. He opens a door and you stare at the ceiling where he would be, he’s in the bathroom. Stalking up the stairs avoiding easily the ones that creak finding yourself at the top landing and you see on the other end of the hallway a man with his back towards you taking a piss with the door wide open. Raising the bow you watch him finish his business zipping up his pants as he turns a rifle slung over his back. His eyes widen as the life leaves him and the arrow goes straight through his eye as he falls back crashing into the toilet. Lowering the bow you move into the path raiding him of any belongings, taking the automatic rifle that you sling over your shoulder, and shoving the multitude of extra clips into your pockets, you take his knife tucking it in your belt and he also has a handgun with only a clip full while taking a thigh holster.

“Hello? Momma? Daddy?” You hear Lila’s voice call out and you rush back to where her bedroom is trying to open the door but it’s locked.

“Lila I need you to do me a favor,” You say, “I need you to go in the closet and cover your ears for me. Don’t come out until I say so.” You hear some shuffling before she calls out again.

“I’m in the closet!” Taking the handgun pressing it as close to the door lock as possible and pulling the trigger. A loud noise fills the room and you step back before sending a harsh kick to the door and it easily flies open. Rushing into the room you open the closet door seeing Lila hidden within the hangers her hands still covering her ears. She rushes into your arms and you hold her tight pulling her back to look over her and she has no injuries besides teary eyes.

“I heard screams…and you have a bunch of ouchies,” She says tearing up and you wipe them away.

“I’m alright Lila but we aren’t safe here we have to go,” You say and you find your pack in her room loading it up with some of her clothes before putting it over your shoulders situating your weapons, the bow over your shoulder and the arrows held from your pack, you hold the rifle in your hands.

“Where are we going?” She asks looking at you in her hands clutching one of her stuffed animals. You weren’t sure where, if Jackson was compromised you didn’t know. You weren’t even sure if the others were alive. You could go back to the cabin to recuperate before heading North. Your original plan when you first met Tommy and Jesse, reach Canada and start fresh there.

“We’re heading to my home,” You say, bending down and holding her cheeks, “I need you to be brave and listen to everything I say you understand.” She nods her head and you press a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay let’s go,” You hold her hand as she follows you as you head down the stairs making sure she doesn’t see in the bathroom before stopping right before the front door. You just needed to get to the stables get Red saddled up and you were out of here. Part of you wanted to try and find the others but the little girl clutching your leg is your priority.

Get to the stables, tack up Red, head to the cabin, and then head north.

You take a deep breath removing the safety of the rifle before opening the door and seeing the empty streets before you, “Come on.” Quickly you head down the street seeing some of the bodies on the street, some are people of Jackson but others you don’t recognize, raiders you have to guess. You hear Lila whimper silently crying.

“Don’t look at them, Lila.” You order and she clutches onto the strap of your backpack as you both continue down the streets. It seemed the more residential areas were deserted or already run through as the number of raiders and Jacksonian people fought towards the main gate. Sticking to the alleys and familiar paths you took to avoid the main street when working at the stables. You’re quick and efficient in taking down raiders before they even react to you and Lila. You press against the half-wall of the market stalls glancing at the stables that were so close. You just need to get there and tack up Red and you’d be good.

“M/n!” A voice calls out your mother’s name and you flinch and you see Lila perk up about to speak but you cover her mouth. She struggles a bit but you hold a finger to your mouth telling her to be quiet and she settles. “We found Derek’s body dumped outside the bar, we still haven’t found Miller yet.” You hear your mother curse.

“Fucking find him already, it’s a small town he can’t hide far.”

“Another thing, we stopped at the house…Issac is dead and your daughters are gone..” The man says and your mother bursts into rage.

“Fucking find that piece of shit and kill her!” She roars and people rush off. Settling down until the loud pop fills the air too close for comfort and a shoot-out ensues. Holding Lila tight to you as her cries muffled in your shirt.

“It’s Miller!” Someone shouts and you perk up. He was near but you didn’t know which one, Maria, Tommy, or Joel. Looking back at the stables seeing an opening with everyone distracted, slinging the rifle over your shoulder before turning to Lila.

“I need you to be extremely quiet and once we get inside go inside Red’s pen and hide in the hay can you do that?” You ask and she nods. You wait for the right timing before scooping her up and running full speed to the stables, and sliding through the gaps in the fences of the dry lot that connects to the stables on the opposite side of the fighting. Finding Red’s stable lifting her over and she drops down into the hay quickly hiding herself among it. Red paces already on edge from the fighting happening around them you hop over the wall into Red’s pen before heading outside the stables grabbing her saddle pad, the saddle, and her reins before rushing into the stall. Red moves impatiently filled with anxiety that you feel as well.

“I’m sorry Red I know this isn’t ideal,” You say throwing the saddle pad over her before quickly adding her saddle your hands shaking with the buckles to fully attach it. Each pop of gunfire only adds more fear to you. With her saddle secure you rip off your pack and strap it on the saddle, sliding the rifle into the holster built into the saddle. Grabbing the reins trying to gently and as fast as possible to get her bridle and bit on Red seems to understand the urgency and cooperates. With her all set you go to grab Lila when you hear someone stumble inside the stables curses coming from a gruff voice.

“Fucking dick,” He curses and you press yourself against the wall hearing an empty magazine fall to the ground and the sound of him fumbling with getting the other in when you strike. You rush up behind him pouncing on his burly back and digging your knife in his shoulder. He cries and slams his head back and you feel your nose crack but hold on. He tries shooting behind him but you keep close to him as you keep stabbing at him. He slams his back on a large pillar making you wheeze in pain but you see your stabs are getting to him as life drains from him. Giving a final stab he falls to his knees blood pooling around his head. Gasping for air to catch your breath when a hand grabs your hair and you scream as they drag you out of the stables.

“I found her!” They yell dragging you through a group of raiders who send glares and look thirsty for blood. You’re thrown to the ground smacked your face to the ground as you are pinned down. There is your mother speckled in blood looking down at you beside you is Joel pinned to the ground it doesn’t look great, blood but you aren’t sure if it’s his or others.

“It didn’t have to end up like this Y/n…if only you listened to your mother.” She says almost with pity and you growl thrashing in the raider's arms.

“You’re not my mother!” You hiss and she comes over kicking your square in your ribs making you cry out.

“Stop it!” Joel yells and she turns her attention to him.

“Oh no, you want to step up as a father?” Your mother spits, “You’re about eighteen years too late.” She turns back to you.

“Where’s Lila?” She demands and you glare at her.

“I’m not letting you hurt her.” You spat and she looked indifferent.

“You think I care about her, she’s just another burden like you were. That’s why I had to get rid of you,” Your eyes widen at her confession, “You were so stupid and willing to be snuck out of the QZ to find your dear mommy some medicine. You were supposed to get infected so we had an excuse to kill you, but you just had to live.” She crouches down and you hear the cocking of her gun as the cool metal presses against your forehead. You see Joel thrashing as he shouts but you don’t even hear it.

“Be glad I gave you the family reunion you were so desperate for,” Her finger rests on the trigger and you’re unsure why you aren’t afraid. Maybe you’ve expected death for a while, whether from something simple or by infected. To be executed by your mother in front of your father wasn’t how you thought it would go.

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

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If your name is crossed out tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. Sorry :(

[gor3sigil]

Little things about being transmasc and/or a trans man:

As trans men and/or transmasc, we always are told to "do better" than cis men, and at the same time to conform to the patriarchal model of masculinity (white, able bodied, strong, thin, necer show emotions etc) to be seen as men/masc.

But you have to understand that some trans men don't want to perform that type of masculinity or CAN'T altogether.

Furthermore, our sexual orientations are often weaponized against us. If we love men, we're called slurs or in more feminist spaces. we're told that we're just women with extra steps, and if we love women, we're asked why we can't just be lesbians or told that we are doing patriarchy all over again. And if you dare to identify gay, you're told that no gay men like p*ssies, and if you dare to identify as a lesbian, you can't because no lesbians like men. And that is without considering the very broad sexuality/romantic spectrum, where your transness is basically a weapon too (aromantic ? Yeah, figure, you're trans and confused. Bi ? Yeah, figure, you're trans and can't decide. Asexual ? Yeah, figure, you're trans or WORSE you're afab and traumatized and so on and so forth).

Gender nonconforming trans men/transmascs are relentlessly called trenders within the community or asked why they even bother to transition. In the outside world, we are often read as a threat and assaulted because of it. But if you are gender conforming, you'll have smirky cis women tell you how you just fantasised about being a Big Strong Man and are just matrixed by patriarchy or too traumatized to live as a woman.

Want to transition medically ? Oh, but T is a BAD hormone that does BAD thing like make you gain WEIGHT and gives you ACNE and makes you GROSS. On the weight topic I could write a book about the horrible fatphobia within the community because I kid you not, I have been a girl teen with EDs who hung out in pr* an* forums and I've seen some shit in transmascs groups and passing tips that have a real resemblance to what I saw back then. Same for transmascs/trans men fitness groups.

Don't want to transition medically ? Lol theyfab. Like so much a woman. Very lady like with a bonus of bringing the movement down.

When it comes to inside the community, we can't talk about specific issues without being shushed, intersex transmascs, and trans men face a LOT of hardships and are insulted. I remember a friend of mine who is an intersex trans man receiving death threats and got told to [redacted] himself when he talked about his experiences as an intersex trans man BY TRANS PEOPLE.

Bipoc trans men and transmascs are always confronted to the white standards of passing coupled with the rampant racism within and outside of the community.

And one thing I can not not bring up: I think a lot of people forget that we can't mourn our dead. Why ? Because these past years, transmascs and trans men have been forgotten from TDOR lists. I remember seeing Twitter threads from trans men adding them because we don't even KNOW when someone has died or they are deemed as women and the death is treated like a feminicide. And it has been a constant.

We can basically never please no matter what we do.

That's my 2 cents on the transandrophobia because I feel like it needs to be said. If you still think that trans men and transmasc individuals don't face specific issues, think again.

[beefrobeefcal]

Alone Together feat. Dieter Bravo

Summary: Dieter is alone by his own doing for Christmas, and so are you.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader | Rating: Teen but still MDNII | Word Count: 2,293

Content Warnings: the holiday morbs, Dieter being a jerk, wine consumption but no is drunk, brief mention of politics, referenced dislike of sappy holiday movies, black cats, kissing, mentions of sex but no smut (who am I?),

Author's Notes: hello beloved @rulexofxnines - it is I, your DB Brainrot Secret Santa! I do hope I met your request for holiday feels and our darling Dieter. Thanks to @sp00kymulderr for organizing!

Thanks to @strang3lov3 for her eyes, minds, thots and love - I wouldn't have had the gumption during this stressful holiday season to get this done without you. 🥩💜🐛 Thanks also to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

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Your neighbour was an asshole, that much was true. Belligerent to delivery workers, rude to his house staff… You even stood in your kitchen and watched him throw a boot at his most recent stylist as he chased them out of his front door. 

In the year and a half that you’d been Dieter Bravo’s neighbour, he had done nothing to show you he was anything less than a douchecanoe. You’d made up your mind about him after your one and only one interaction; he was dragging his garbage can back from the curb and he gave you a once over and said, “Nice.” with a nod and gross smile. Your less-than-charitable facial expression in response was met with a scowled huff from him before he disappeared back into his house.

Sure, he was an actor who did walk on parts on primetime tv dramas now, but back in the day, he was more than a bit part. You wouldn’t have called yourself a fan, but you didn’t deny that he was attractive and a good actor… and even now, he was still attractive, even if the acting part wasn’t as true anymore.

The week earlier, you’d received a very fancy note telling you that while you weren’t invited, Dieter would be hosting a large, extravagant party on this day and he was only giving the neighbourhood a head’s up because his lawyer had told him to. Even if outwardly you were coldly ambivalent towards the note, you couldn’t deny the initial thrill you had when you thought it may actually be an invite followed by the immediate disappointment and deflation of your ego.

Even though he was an asshole, you still felt an inexplicable pull towards him. Little did you know that Dieter felt that same pull towards you.

He was painfully aware of the horrible first impression he’d left on you, and he knew you weren't immune to the stories that were told about him and his arrogance. A small part of him had wanted to reach out to you, but it was squashed each time you’d break eye contact with an eye roll or a slight grimace. As much as he felt that pull, he also felt irritated at your assumed uninterest in him, the Dieter Bravo.

You had both made assumptions about one another - some well informed while others were a bit more misguided - yet neither of you had the ability to not have your attention drawn to one another the moment you were in each other’s peripherals. 

This was going to be your first christmas alone in your home. Last year, you’d opted to spend the holidays at your parents house with all of your family, but given the results of the recent election, you didn’t feel like hearing extended family’s opinions, and thusly, you were staying put. You’d decorated a small, counter top tree and splurged on a few gifts for you and your cats, VOID and Nugget, and you’d gotten a small chicken to roast like a turkey; you were set.

You began to settle in for a quiet Christmas Eve, even if you didn’t want to admit that you really weren’t digging the ‘alone for the holidays’ plans you’d made now nearly as much. Knowing that Dieter was hosting what you assumed would be a very large and noisy party, you had your wireless headphones charged, a ridiculous stockpile of Christmas cookies, and your appetizers in the air fryer; you were as ready as you could be for whatever your neighbour had in store for you.

A few hours and two really terrible Christmas movies later, you noted that there were no cars outside Dieter’s home, nor was there any noise. You’d not even bothered with your headphones - waiting until you actually needed them - and you hadn’t even needed to shut the blinds on the windows that faced his house. 

It was weird. Quiet and weird. 

You got up and looked out your kitchen window and what you saw almost broke your heart. There was Dieter, sitting with his head in his hands on his front steps alone. From your vantage point, you watched as he lifted his head and looked out into the dark street in front of him and sigh. 

Your mind was suddenly at odds with itself. You could turn and go back to another crappy Christmas movie with your cats on the couch, or you could take the chance to fill the need for human connection on Christmas Eve with someone who could either accept or rudely deny you. 

You chose the former, feeling that pull towards him again, and grabbed the big container of Christmas cookies, then headed out your front door.

Dieter’s head shot up as you approached him and the certainty you felt began to wither as his eyes locked on yours and all those memories of how terrible he could be started to force their way to the front of your mind, and your steps slowed.

“Hey… I-”

The loud, groaned sigh he let out interrupted you and you felt yourself shrink a bit. You couldn’t quite tell if the sound was born of irritation at your unsolicited arrival or embarrassment at being seen so dejected. 

When he rolled his eyes and motioned towards the container in your hands, you had your answer. 

“Oh, so you just thought you’d drop by even though you weren’t invited, huh?”, he scoffed sarcastically, but there was a sadness and a vulnerability lingering in the cold glare he gave you.

Your defences came up against your better judgement, and your eyes narrowed. All the holly jollies in your body evaporated, and you spat out,  “The party, you mean? You mean the one that looks like no one showed up for?”

He frowned angrily and stood up, stepping towards you. This action alone made you feel a warmth bloom in your chest, but the moment his finger pointed at you sternly, that warmth at his proximity soured. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you shoved the container of cookies into his chest.

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas, asshole.”

You didn’t bother to wait for his response, instead opting to turn and storm back into your house and slam the door. You kicked off your boots, cursing him under your breath, at both him and his attitude and you and your conflicting feelings. You spooked your cats as you stomped into your kitchen and ripped open the fridge to grab your bottle of wine. Still muttering to yourself, you poured a glass and downed the whole thing in one go. As you were about to pour your second glass, there was a knock at the door. 

You froze, mid-pour, almost overfilling your glass, feeling that warth fight to come to the surface and bleed all over you. Putting the bottle down and picking up your glass, you listened, then another knock happened. You knew it was him and, if you were honest, you were both elated at the idea he was seeking you out and terrified because you had shoved a plastic rubbermaid container into his chest and he could say it was assault and he could afford a better lawyer than you, and -

Another knock followed by, “Hello? I know you’re home.”

It was stupid but it was true. He knew you were home because he watched you go in, and you knew he knew that because you knew he watched you go in. 

You sighed and put the glass down and went down to your door and opened it a crack. 

“Yes, I am home.” Stupid. He knows you’re home, dumbass.

He moves closer to the door and leans his face closer to the opening. “Yeah. I know.”  Jesus, his eyes are brown. And pretty. Shit.

You suck in a breath and snip back, “Yeah, I know you know.” He smells nice, too. Stop it.

You both stared at each other for a beat before he let out a breath and his shoulders dropped. His face looked as sad as his voice sounded. “I’m not an asshole.”

The look on your own face betrayed you with a perfect mix of confusion and sympathy and Dieter must have taken that as his in; he put his hand on your door and gently pushed it open, softly forcing you back. He stepped into your entryway enough to close the door behind him and he stood in front of you, container of cookies still in his grasp… in his large hands with thick fingers… shit shit shit! Stop it! It was then you noted how dressed up he was: a nice deep green velvet suit with matching tie and dress shirt. His hair was done and his patchy beard was cleaned up, and you noted the telltale marks on his lovely nose that said he’d been wearing glasses. 

You suddenly realized how dry your mouth was, making your saliva thick. What was in this man’s cologne? 

As you allowed your eyes to trial over him, he was doing the same, taking in your Christmas sweater with little skeletons in Santa hats on it. You had no makeup on and your hair was kind of a mess. You caught him looking you over and felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you and looked away from him, clearing your throat. 

“I’m not always an asshole.”, he said softly.

Your gaze snapped up to him once again, and you found your confidence in the vulnerability he was giving you in his own eyes. “Not always?”

A small smile tugged at one side of his mouth and he looked down at the container in his hands. “Yeah… just was a huge asshole without reprieve this year.”

You felt his words tug at your heart strings and you saw Dieter as he truly was - alone by his own doing. 

“Want to come in for a drink? I have wine…”, you motioned your hand towards the few stairs up into the living room. He nodded and followed you.

It was now well past midnight, officially December 25th, and you and Dieter had been talking for hours. You had told him how lonely you were, living by yourself with your cats in a new city and far away from the comforts of familiarity.

He admitted he knew he was driving everyone out of his life, but he didn’t know how to stop it. Between the party being a failure and you calling him an asshole but still giving - albeit harshly - the cookies to him, he finally admitted to himself that he truly was alone, just like you.

“Why?”, you asked softly, placing your hand on his, and his other hand in turn covered yours.

“I don’t know… maybe I’m a narcissist or a sociopath… or had a bad childhood or too much money, I don’t know, but I do know that I don’t like where it got me.”

You nodded and he looked at you, a small smile on his lips. “You know, I always wanted to get to know you.”

“Yeah?” You couldn’t help but return the same smile. 

“Yeah. I guess I was just used to people coming to me and when you didn’t, I-”, he shrugged. “I guess I figured you’d rather be alone than get to know me.”

You looked at him, feeling a pang of guilt at his softness in the moment. You opened your mouth to speak but whatever you were going to say was caught in your throat when his hand came up to your cheek. His big brown eyes bored into yours and his face came closer. 

His voice was soft and his eyes flicked down to your lips before coming back. “I think you and I, we could maybe make being alone together a thing.”

You nodded and Dieter leaned in and kissed you. Softly, almost tentatively, as if he was waiting for your cue to delve deeper. As soon as you opened your lips slightly in the kiss, Dieter took his chance.

“Hon - you ready? Guests are showing up in ten minutes!”, you called up the stairs. 

Dieter appeared at the top, his shirt unbuttoned and his hair in clips as the style set. “I’m - ten minutes? Really?”

You nodded with a smile and he ran back into the bedroom to finish getting ready.

The past year had been nothing short of an R-rated Hallmark Holiday movie. Dieter and you had moved fast in your relationship, sex that very first night had entwined you two together, and neither of you were willing to try anything less than full throttle and you’d moved in with him after less than three months of dating. You had both felt like this was meant to be and his ego and your first impressions of him had delayed the inevitable, and now you were making up for lost time.

Dieter had started to try and mend the broken relationships - some successful, others not - and you felt he had taken every rejection as gracefully as he received forgiveness. It had taken some convincing on your part to get him to agree to try hosting another Christmas Eve party, but here you were, readying the house and hoping for a good turnout. 

A few hours into the party, You watched as Dieter moved through the room, smile on his face as he greeted each guest, noting his hand in his pocket, but not giving it another thought.

Dieter caught glimpses of you as he chatted and talked with the people in the room, his fingers deftly playing with the ring he was going to give you at midnight in his pocket. He wanted to officially make sure you knew you would never be alone again.

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[tteokdoroki]

imagine if your bestfriend katsuki was really babyfaced until he hit his 20’s. total late bloomer, aure he went through puberty but his body looked like it had never gotten out of the awkward teen boy phase look!

so, anyways maybe you travel back him for some family time, gone for maybe 3-4 months. Katsuki had already looked really mature, he just had some baby fat, and you teased him, because in your words he still looked like he did when he was 5.

now you’ve come back, and boy, has katsuki grown. you and the group go out on the town, and when you see katsuki he has grown in height, build, and his face is now chiseled. and you cant believe your eyes. the whole night you can’t stop staring, seeing your bestfriend in a new light.

(sorry if this makes no sense im running on a low brain battery lol!)

kissing your brain actually absolutely just smooching it ??

growing up with katsuki and he’s just the kid you guys picked on ever so slightly cause it was easy to get on his nerves — he’d just run home and cry. definitely a mamas boy LMAO !! but you’re both so cute, with gaps in your teeth and messy cheeks and your parents think you’re gonna end up together when you grow up. katsuki thinks that’s gross and you think he’s being mean n you push each other away like ewww grosss even though you were probably crushing on each other back then.

when you’re a little older katsuki is still baby faced and his mom always pinches his cheeks and calls him handsome and does that thing mom’s do where they lick their thumb and use it to wipe their kids face. PLEASE but katsuki is still so cute n hasn’t quite grown into himself yet :(( and when you start hitting 13/14 everyone is talking about the boys they like and who they wanna go to the movies with after school — he doesn’t think you’ll wanna go out with him because you’re best friends and he doesn’t look like the guys in your teen pop magazines or the boy groups you like.

stop he has like braces, he’s a little lanky and his voice is always cracking !!! awkward teen boy katsuki for the win!!! he probably stays like that all the way through high school n then you end up losing touch after graduation/starting college.

but then a few years down the line when you’re back from college your friends are begging you to come to a local bar to catch up — you ask if katsuki will be there and they won’t stop teasing you about it because you haven’t seen each other in ages !! laughing and pointing when he rolls in with your other guy friends, taller, thicker more buff. you’re practically drooling.

the katsuki you knew was shy, and small if he wanted to be but this katsuki is loud. he fills the whole room with his presence, he’s got a waistline that could kill and a jawline so sharp you could cut diamonds on it.

“didn’t your ma ever tell ya starin’ is rude?” bakugou mumbles when he’s close enough to order a drink and you literally melt in your spot — because when did his voice get so deep? basically running through your ears like melted chocolate.

“you’ve changed.” you quip.

“for the better, i hope?”

“yeah… you look good.”

“and so do you,” he comments back smoothly. “but don’cha worry, ‘m still your same old katsuki.”

and god, the way he smirks at you afterwards makes your thighs shake and your stomach do back flips, and you kinda hope your katsuki is a little bolder, a little different when you ask him.

“do you wanna get out of here, katsuki?”

your suspicions are confirmed when bakugou kicks back his shot and says.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[louloulemons-posts]

Jealousy

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie likes you, but you’re with Harrington, right?

Word Count : 1.9k

Warnings : Not Proofread, fluff, stoners, use of weed and alcohol, the stranger things teens actually acting like teens lol, swears, cuteness, ft Nancy, Robin, Jonathan and Steve, jealous eds this was wrote a 3am so the spelling is probably atrocious.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Every time I tell you to bring a jacket and every time you’re like, ‘No Steve I won’t get cold’,” he spoke, mocking you as he did.

“I’m not cold, you’re the one freaking out!”

“You have goosebumps, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he said, throwing his blue jacket at your head. Smacking you straight in the face. “I honestly question why we’re still friends sometimes.”

“Guys let’s go,” Robin moaned, stood waiting for you. “We’re coming,” you said, jogging up to her, linking arms. “It’s fine just abandon me. Don’t worry about it,” Steve shouted.

“Okay,” you said in sync, laughing to yourselves. “Hey guys!” a familiar voice spoke. Eddie walked over to you, dressed in his normal attire of denim vest, jeans and leather jacket. Cute.

“Munson, you made it,” Steve said happily, “Now I won’t have to spend the night being bullied by these two demons.” You linked your free arm through Eddies, “You’re right! You can be bullied by the three of us.”

“I hate you all,” Steve groaned.

“You know you love us,” Robin said, grabbing Steve’s arm. “So are Wheeler and Byers meeting us there?” Eddie asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, Nance had work so they’re coming a little later.” He hummed in acknowledgement. You began chatting with Robin as you walked, the four of you still linked together.

You didn’t notice the curly haired boys eyes on you, well actually what you were wearing to be specific. Harringtons jacket. Just like a few days ago, you stole his yellow jumper, untying it from his waist.

It broke his heart, he’d always liked you, never got round to telling you. He couldn’t. He was Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. You were everything. Your friendship was enough for him, but seeing you, watching you and Steve.

“You good?” you asked him.

“Oh yeah I’m fine, you?”

“Peachy!” you smiled up at him, making his heart flutter. “How’s your uncle Wayne?”

“He’s doing well. He told me to tell you he’s willing to pay you to make him more of that banana loaf.”

You laughed at that, “I’ll make sure too, no payment necessary though. He’s a nice man.” Humming again in agreement.

Robin spoke up, “This looks like a good spot, clear enough to see the fireworks.”

There was some huge celebration for Hawkins happening tonight. Fireworks, a party, the whole big sha-bang. You guys decided to have your own little party, some food, snacks, pot, and good company.

Steve threw a blanket down on the floor, “Nance said she’s bringing another with her,” he explained. You were sat by Lovers lake, it was so peaceful this time of year.

The orange skies reflecting off the still water. “Y/N.”

“Hm?” you asked turning towards Robin.

“Smile!” She said, pointing her camera towards you. You did as she said smiling and posing.

“Perfect!” She grabbed the photo and began shaking it so it would develop. Eddie smiled at you as you mimicked her shaking, the pair of you ended up dancing as she did.

Finally the picture was clear enough to see, “It looks great, you look pretty.”

“Aw thanks Robs,” you smiled, kissing her cheek.

“Anyone want a drink?” Steve asked, pulling out a few beers. “Throw one,” Eddie spoke, catching the can in one hand with ease. He sat down one the blanket, stretching out his long legs.

“Hey you, leave some room for the rest of us,” you spoke, plopping down next to him.

“You’ve got plenty of room, I’m a big guy, let me be comfy.”

“Okay big boy you take all the room you need.” You looked to your can, pulling the tab to open it, not realising how Eddies face flushed.

“Hey Eddie did you bring the good stuff?” Robin asked. “Obviously, I’m not gonna bring gross shit. I’m smoking too.”

“Oh so if you weren’t you’d give us weed that tastes like ass?” Steve asked.

“You know what ass tastes like Harrington?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the boy smirked.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Hey guys!” Nancys voice came from behind you. You scrambled up to hug her, “Hi!” she smiled to you.

“Hey Nance, Jonathan how are you?” you smiled at him.

The pair of you began quiet conversation, you’d always liked him. Just like Will, they were sweet kids, not surprising with a mom like Joyce. That woman had a heart of gold.

But later on you stood by the waters edge, watching it ripple as the breeze blew. You rubbed your arms, it was a bit cool, and getting colder as the sun disappeared.

“If you say ‘I told you so’ I’ll throw you in the fucking lake,” you said aloud.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Could smell the hairspray.”

“You’re horrible.”

“But you love me.”

You wrapped your arms around Steve’s middle, his going around your shoulders. “You good?”

“Mhm, stealing your warm.”

“Great so you’ve stole my jacket and warm,” he sighed, but didn’t let go.

“You guys ready to smoke?” Eddie asked, making you look up from Steve’s neck. He almost sounded annoyed? “Yeah!” You smiled at him, walking over to re-join the group.

Plonking yourself down between Robin and Eddie, you hummed in contentment. Eddie pulled out 2 pre-rolled blunts, handing one to Jonathan and keeping one himself.

The pair lit them and took the first inhales, smoke coming out of their noses. “Steves definitely gonna pull a whitey, he’s already drunk!” Robin laughed.

“Why am I friends with any of you?”

“Cause you love us,” you said in a sing-song voice.

The metal head offered you the blunt, not meeting your eyes as you thanked him. Taking a drag you, feeling the tickle of the smoke against your lungs.

The blunts were passed between the six of you and soon enough the first pop and boom was heard in the sky. Red and blue danced against the darkness, leaving you all in awe.

More and more fireworks began to appear, in the starry sky. They were so beautiful. You sighed, resting your head on someone’s shoulder, too stoned to really care who.

He cared though, knowing he’d need something a lot stronger to not care about you. To not feel like his heart would burst out of his chest as you laid there, smiling at the sky.

He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t keep falling for you. Keep loving you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair on him. Or Steve. God you had a boyfriend and you were here with him like this.

Nudging your head with his shoulder slightly, he stood up, brushing down his jeans. Excusing himself and walking away from the five of you.

Cocking you head your eyes followed after the dark haired boy. Wondering what was wrong. After a few minutes you decided to follow after him.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Eddie~” you called out for him. “You okay? Why’d you go away?” You giggled at your rhyme. Soon enough you found him, his back to you.

“Hi,” you spoke, walking closer to him. He was stood at the waters edge. “You okay? You wandered off.”

“Yeah I’m good.”

“Thought you were just taking a leak, but you were gone agesss. Got worried.”

“Why?” he asked genuinely, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you. “Uh cause you’re my friend, and I like you duh.” He hummed at you, and you bumped his shoulder.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it Munson, I’m an open book right now, so this may be your only chance.”

“How long have you and Harrington been a thing?”

Your eyes widened, your jaw slack, you were stunned. “You don’t have to tell me, just curious. You suit each ot-” You put your hand on his mouth, “Edward Munson you finish that sentence and I will projectile vomit.”

He looked concerned, worried you were about to pull a whitey. “Shit we should get you home.”

“No! I’m fine it’s just,” you laughed, “Eddie, Steve’s my cousin.”

He was now the stunned one, “What?”

“He’s my cousin.”

“But your … your last names.”

“Our moms are sisters,” you explained.

“But I thought, he’s so protective of you, and you’re always wearing your clothes.”

“He nags me like a big brother. He’s only a few months older than me, but god he’s annoying.”

Eddie couldn’t believe it. You were cousins. Which made so much sense. So much fucking sense.

You were laughing, “Have I lost you?”

“W-what no! I’m right here.”

“Can I ask you a question now?”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you ask me if I’m dating him?”

“Oh I um … you know. Curious friend.”

“Mhm, sure. Well,” you began to walk back towards the others, “Just in case your curiosity gets the better of you, I should probably just tell you,

“I like you too. I think we should go on a date.” Eddie looked at you in awe.

“How did you know?”

“Kinda obvious. I was waiting for you to ask me out, been dropping hints all the time. It really went over your head.”

You smiled at him. “You dropped hints?”

“All the time. Always asking to hang out, linking arms, laughing so loud at all your jokes, calling you, baking for you, coming to see your band. The list goes on. I like you Eddie.”

“I like you too.”

“I know,” you laughed.

“Take off the jacket.”

“What?”

“The jacket. Take it off.”

You did as he said, pulling off the blue material. Goosebumps instantly covering your skin. It was soon disturbed as Eddie put his leather jacket over your shoulders.

“Suits you,” he smiled, you matched it.

“It’s cosy.” It smelt like him, weed and his woody aftershave. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I hope you know you’re not having it back.”

“That’s fine by me. You look pretty in it.” You cheeks flushed at that, “Thanks Eds. So umm we should get back to the others.”

“Sure, but first, I need to do something.”

Before you had time to ask what he had cupped your cheeks in his ring decorated hands. Connecting your lips to his own. They were soft against yours, you couldn’t stop the grin forming on your face.

Kissing him back you deepened it, pulling him closer by his curls, making his groan slightly. Tongues dancing and bodies on one another, you didn’t hear the twig crack behind you.

“My eyes! Oh my god my fucking eyes!” You heard a shout, breaking away from Eddie. Steve was rubbing his face, doubled over. “Here I was thinking you were in danger but no you’re sucking face!”

“Oh my god Steve shut up,” dropping your face into Eddies chest in embarrassment, he hugged you and chuckled into your hair. “No! I’ve just seen my baby cousin, BABY cousin with a tongue down her throat. Gross!”

“Sorry Harrington, we’ll keep it PG around you.”

“You better Munson,” he said walking away from the pair of you. Breaking into laughter, Eddie brushed hair out of your face.

“Well he’s gone now so,” he leaned back down to kiss you. “Nope! Nope nope nope,” Steve ran back, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from Eddie, taking his jacket back too.

The curly haired boy cackled as he heard your whining as Steve dragged you, and his own complaints at how gross you were. Following behind, grin on his face, this may have been one of the best nights of his life.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[jjkamochoso]

Imagine… Buying Clothes with Gabi and Falco and Having a Fashion Show at Home for Levi

Fluff

Postwar!Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Warnings: none

“Levi! We’re home!”

You pushed open the door to your cottage, overfilled shopping bags slamming against the wood. Gabi and Falco ran inside, laughing about who knows what. You chuckled to yourself, relieved that they were now able to enjoy their time as children instead of soldiers.

Levi appeared in his wheelchair, greeting you with a soft smile. “Welcome home. I take it you found what you were looking for?”

You leaned down to give him a quick kiss as he grabbed a few of your bags and sat them on his lap.

“And more,” you teased and he shook his head playfully. You both went into the kitchen, finding the kids raiding your refrigerator.

“Oi, brats. Go eat like pigs at your parents’ houses, not ours,” Levi said, crossing his arms.

Falco pouted. “But you guys are practically our second parents!”

“And we’re hungry now!” exclaimed Gabi. “It’s not our fault Y/n had us out for hours.”

“Hey! You guys begged me to take you shopping. Feeding you wasn’t part of my plans,” you said before sighing at their pleading faces. “Fine, we’ll make you lunch. But we’re doing it in a civilized manner.”

The kids cheered and Levi stood from his wheelchair, putting the shopping bags he held on the counter. “You just got home, I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, my love,” you said, giving him another peck on the lips. You heard Gabi and Falco release of chorus of “ew’s” and “get a room’s” and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, this is too gross for you two? Last I checked we didn’t make a dramatic proclamation of our love and get all mushy gushy about wanting to marry each other,” said Levi, making the teens get flustered. He busied himself with sandwich making as you were struck with an idea.

“You kids wanna have a fashion show for Levi?”

Their eyes lit up in excitement as they dumped out the bags to pick out their respective clothes to try on. You joined in the fun as you all broke off to various rooms to get changed. Gabi was the first to come out, strutting across the room and spinning around. Next was Falco, striking some funny poses in his new outfit. Levi was trying his hardest to look unamused but was completely failing—he found the kids to be thoroughly hilarious. When you finally walked out, Levi felt his heart skip a beat. You looked absolutely ravishing in your new outfit, even with your over exaggerated posing and laughing like a maniac with the kids. Levi’s lips turned up into a slight grin as you all ran back to try on some more clothes. The second time around was just as fun as the first time, Levi giving out compliments on all your choices of clothes. He finished the last of the sandwiches, wiping down the counter to clear it of crumbs.

“Go get changed,” he addressed you and the kids, “lunch is ready and I don’t want you to spill on your new clothes.”

When you emerged again in your regular clothes, you noticed Gabi and Falco hadn’t shown up in the kitchen yet. You sat down at the table and Levi brought over yours and his sandwiches. After he took his own seat, he rested his hand on top of yours. The loving gesture still had your stomach fluttering, even after being his partner for so many years. The missing fingers on the hand that held yours was a reminder of the hardship you had faced, but the hearty sandwiches, beaming faces of happy teens, and soft gaze of the man you loved in front of you were a great reminder of the bright future ahead of you.

[fishsticksloser]

Gojo SFW HCs

Warnings: opinions, fluff, some spoilers?

A/N: I for some reason always start with these... And of course we have to start with the Honored One.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He's very affectionate, sometimes too much.

This man is clingy, his favorite ways to show affection are with words of affirmation and touch.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Gojo is in love with your hands, your lips, your cheeks... He loves every inch of you and makes it known every day.

His favorite feature is his hair or eyes. They're uniquely him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddle fiend.

Practically begs every day for cuddles. He lives then so so much.

Often times he'll lay on top of you so you can't get up so you have to keep cuddling him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does!

He wants to settle down, stop fighting, and have a family. He wishes he could've given Megumi that quiet life instead of shoving him into fighting.

Gojo is an okay cook, not great, but not too bad. He can make some pretty basic dishes and his breakfast is amazing.

Cleaning on the other hand? He's not too good at that. He has a tendency to just leave socks wherever he takes them off and dishes on the counter or tables.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Definitely a, "it's not you, it's me" man

He doesn't want to break up, but it's safer for you if you're not with him.

Especially after everything that's happened, he wants you to be happy and thriving, not having to look after his scarred and managed body. Had he lived

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Commitment king... Just kidding.

Not to say that he's a major playboy, he is just kinda scared.

A lot of people only want him because of his status, so it takes him a while to come to terms with you wanting him, not his status.

So give him a few years to pop the question.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He tends to be gentle both physically and emotionally...

Still... He also has a tendency to stop huge emotional bombs randomly...

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Someone hug this man... He needs it.

He loves hugs, but he doesn't get them very often.

Gojo wishes for hugs all the time.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Whenever it feels right, it just comes out.

You could be sick, in bed, all snotty and gross and it comes out.

Or he mumbles it right after waking up, happy to have you next to him

There's not really a time limit, just whenever it slips out.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He's a fairly jealous man, perhaps a bit more than the average man.

He'll play it cool, just keeping an eye on you, making sure you're okay.

If they don't leave or it takes longer than he'd like, he'll stand behind you, shooing whoever it is off.

Or if it's clear you're uncomfortable, he's making a scene. He's loud, making sure to put himself between you and whoever to keep you safe.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Depends on how he feels. They can be rough and hungry after he gets back from a mission. But they can also be soft, chaste. Whatever he's in the mood for.

He loves kissing all over his partner's face, their hands.

Gojo loves kisses on his face and hands. But also on his chest and back. Like if his partner were to come up behind him and press their lips against his back, he'd melt.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Not the greatest

He just doesn't really know what to do with them

But teens, he can work with that. He can get along with them and help them out.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He sleeps in whenever he can (normally until about 10am-noon)

He's cooking with his partner, trying to spend as much time with you as possible. Kisses, soft touches, cuddles, singing, dancing, you name it.

If he can't, he's up at 4am, making sure everything is ready for the day. Especially if he has to be at the school.

He will make sure breakfast is ready for his partner to heat up, leaving a little note before he leaves.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He has some mild insomnia...

He has a very hard time sleeping without cuddling something. His partner, a pillow, a bundle of blankets... It doesn't matter as long as it's shaped like his partner.

If he's home, he'll just lie in silence until he drifts off.

But a bedtime routine? Mans has the most outlandish, 28 step skin care routine. He even has one of those fluffy makeup headbands to pull his hair back.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

A mix of overly open and like a steel cage

He's open about the more trivial stuff, but very protective of his sorcery stuff

That includes anything about Geto and somethings about Megumi. As far as his partner is aware, he adopted Megumi when he was 5 and that's all they know for quite some time.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Depends...

Did he have a rough day? Then his patience is very very thin. Gojo tries not to let that take over how he feels, but sometimes he just snaps.

Overall, he's pretty chill, not quick to anger at all. In fact, he likes pissing other people off.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything, even the things in passing

He loves knowing everything about his partner. This also makes him really good at giving gifts.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first kiss with his partner

Their first meeting (imagine a slow-mo moment)

Their first 'I love you's

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

So so so protective

If he has to, he'll hide his relationship for years.

He doesn't want his Clan to try and intervene, he doesn't want to risk his partner's life. He wants to make sure they have a nice, long life.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Everyday tasks... He kinda slacks. He claims he's just a busy guy and can't really do that much.

Anniversaries, dates, gifts on the other hand?

Gojo goes all out. He is the date king, making everything perfect, you don't have to worry about a thing.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He can sometimes underestimate his partner. He doesn't really do it purposely, he's just used to everyone thinking he's better than anyone else.

He's insecure, yes, but he inflates his own ego to try and hide that fact. In turn, he can sometimes accidentally demean his partner.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Very concerned.

As stated above, he is very insecure. He uses his striking looks and his status to hide it.

That and he always has to look his best for his partner. He loves dressing up and going the extra mile.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Incomplete, completely.

Gojo loves being close to his partner, without them he could practically throw a tantrum on the floor.

Sobbing, whining, the whole ordeal... Poor Nanami has had to deal with this first hand

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

The first time his partner sees the real him. The insecure, panicked, anxious Gojo, he shuts down.

He worries they'll leave him, that he fucked up by showing them. He starts to build walls all over again.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Don't ever talk badly about his son and definitely don't belittle his students.

They're working hard, going through things they shouldn't have to and he's doing his best to make it easier on them, to let them keep their youth as long as possible.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He talks in his sleep when he has nightmares. But he doesn't move. Normally he mumbles things about Geto, sometimes Jogo and Mahito as well.

He will wake up screaming, covered in sweat.

On good nights, he will always be touching his partner. Curled around them, just having his hand on them, as long as their touching it doesn't matter.

[fizzy-soda-cans-ohyea]

My og comment from reddit in a general a hellverse sub about Bee getting the ick from watching Mammon chow down (can u tell I was walking on eggshells to not piss off defensive fans lol) and my expanded thoughts

Now for my unfiltered opinion. Ahem. Yeah it's actually very VERY stupid to have the sin of Gluttony, even a "nice party girl" and alternative take on it, to look disturbed by Greed (seriously, it's almost funny how similar gluttony is to greed in description) messily gorging on food. Like okay. They don't like each other, even hate each other. Sure. But for a haha funny reaction to Mammon going wild for lunch, you can keep Ozzie looked sickened, fine, but just have Bee glaring at him in a "this is not the time asshole" kind of way or SOMETHING damn idk.

Also. So many fans not knowing the full def of Gluttony. I felt like I was going insane with barely a few people in comment sections filled with thousands only getting it. It's not just being a foodie that maybe snacks too much, or drinking a few too many beers, or taking drugs at a party or whatever else people said lol. It's messy, it's over excess to the point of harm. It's sloppy, messy, kinda gross. Whether it's food, drink, or anything you overindulge in, it's not pretty. It's also...GREEDY. Let me not go on a tangent about how I think it would be more interesting for Bee and Mammon to frenemies instead-

And yeah. I made a post...about a year ago? About my slight discomfort and how unsure I was with how Mammon, and the few other plus size characters across both shows, were portrayed despite liking him. And wow did his portrayal this episode actually kinda made me a bit mad. Just made him the butt of the joke and gave him the obnoxious/annoying unlovable fat bully trope. Thanks for that I guess. Whatever I still love him lol.At least he was rocking the cool skeleton suit.

Also Ozzie. Don't tag team with Bee to clap back at Mammon like this is some teen's attempt at YA where the two friend characters always have a comeback for the pathetic bully character. Please. This is embarrassing. Don't let my GOAT be washed </3