#el doesn’t understand how she can be seen as cool

[alieninvadrr]

Thinking about Will wanting to be a wizard with powers… thinking about Will wanting to be with Mike… thinking of a ‘random girl’ with powers randomly showing up while he’s missing… thinking of Mike dating said ‘random girl…’ thinking…

[mc-i-r]

Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link

A/N: hi yes so sorry for how late this is, it turned into a huge monster of a fic that I’m still working on but I figured posting the first part wouldn’t hurt. This is based on this post by @liightsnow, @acowardinmordor, and @00biscuit while back and I decided to expand that concept a bit and here we are. I'll be tagging anyone that seemed interested in the concept at the end of the fic! Warnings are below but I just wanna say that Steve is struggling with his sexuality in this one so most of it comes from that. This will absolutely have a happy ending, just not right now. Enjoy the angst!

Tw: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, mentions of canon violence, dissociation, panic attacks

———

It’s a Sunday afternoon when he realizes it. Steve is sitting on his couch, eating a shitty frozen meal and watching a random movie on TV when it hits him. The kids haven’t asked him for a ride in two weeks. Two Saturdays have passed and there was not one call— either on the phone or over the walkie— from any of the kids. Not even Dustin, who has seemed to make it his life’s mission in the past couple years to annoy Steve into an early grave.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen them at all. He still practices basketball with Lucas on Thursdays, even though the season is long over. His weekly dinners with Claudia and Dustin are still going strong every Wednesday. Joyce seems to invite him over for dinners every couple weeks. From the outside, everything seems fine. And maybe it is, but Steve’s noticed things.

See, he’s not as stupid as people think he is. He may not be academically smart but he can read. However, instead of books, it’s people. He can read their micro-expressions, notice little signs in their body language that help him understand the person. He can tell when people are nervous when they avoid eye contact, can tell how anxious they are when they distract themselves by picking at their fingers. It’s how he’s so good with the kids. They’re in the stubborn stage of their teenage years, the time in which the only answer you’ll get is ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone’. But he can tell if there’s something on their minds, if there’s something eating away at them.

He can tell that Mike’s anger and pointed barbs are directed towards himself, how he’s struggling with something he can’t quite admit to himself yet. How Max is frustrated with her body, with accepting help, because she’s always had to rely on herself and putting that much trust in someone else has never been an option for her until now. How Lucas is trying to find joy in doing something he loves again, because his love for basketball has been ruined by Carver and his trusty band of assholes. How Dustin is trying to deal with almost losing Eddie, how he’s processing the feelings of almost losing a brotherly figure along with one of his friends. How Will is hiding part of himself, struggling to accept it in the same way Mike is. How El is trying so hard to find her new normal, to adjust to getting her life— her father— back.

There’s another thing he’s noticed, however. It’s that the kids are obsessed with Eddie. Steve from a couple years ago would feel jealous of Eddie, and would try to hold it against him. Now, though, Steve just feels… sad. The kids constantly talk about how cool and badass Eddie is for still being himself despite all the shit Hawkins has thrown at him. They talk about how Eddie takes them places, gets them little trinkets for their nerd game, and takes them fun places. Eddie does all these little things for the kids, lets them just be kids, and really, Steve can’t be mad at him for it. He tries to let them have fun, but his constant worrying overwhelms them. It brings them down. Eddie doesn’t do that. He joins right in with them, basking in the fun and letting himself go. Steve… can’t. Not with all the shit he’s seen. Letting his guard down is something he can’t afford to do anymore.

He sighs down at his meal, chucking it on the coffee table as he loses his appetite. His glasses land next to the disposable plastic tray, sliding across the finished wood surface from the force of his throw. He rubs harshly over his face, hands digging into his eyes until he sees stars.

Steve knows he’s not perfect. Hell, it took an interdimensional monster trying to kill him in order for him to realize that he could be a better person. That the only person truly able to change his life is himself. He used to think he had no choice in his life— whether it was his parents' high expectations of him or his friends trying to mold him into their perfect little plaything— but he knows better now. He knows that he shouldn’t have become King Steve, that he shouldn’t have hurled all his hate and anger towards other people who didn’t deserve it. He knows he shouldn’t have called people names or slurs, that he shouldn’t have spray painted lockers or ripped up books or shoved people against hard asphalt. He knows that, but knowing it was wrong doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. That Steve did those things and hurt people.

Part of him knows that his past is what made the kids turn towards Eddie. Why wouldn’t they? Steve was a bully, thought he was hot shit in school and made it everyone’s problem. Eddie was simply himself. His unabashed, unashamed self. He stood on cafeteria tables, made dramatic speeches, and shared his opinions to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’s so genuine and so, so much better for the kids. He teaches them how to be themselves, how to shove off the hate and embrace their weird side. He’s perfect for them, and Steve knows deep down that this is good for them. The kids need a good role model, one they can rely on, and Eddie has his herd of little sheep to teach and protect. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

Steve remembers the time last week at the Byers-Hopper house when their little obsession truly became real. They were waiting for the bread to finish baking in the oven, and Steve saw that Will was seated alone in the living room. Joyce and Hopper were in the kitchen, talking and keeping a lookout so the bread wouldn’t burn. Jonathan and El were listening to music in his room, the synth and guitars echoing down the hallway. So, Steve decided to finally talk to Will. It’s not like they don’t talk ever, just… not much. Will is quiet, blends into the background, and Steve never felt like the kid would be comfortable with him trying to get in his business. However, he needed to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.

Steve sat down on the couch next to him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, and rested his elbows on his knees. Will was reading a comic, the cover full of bright colors and words, not paying attention. Steve sighed, pushed his glasses up, and ran a hand through his own hair.

“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”

Will startled a little, like he didn’t realize Steve was there, and closed his comic. He nodded, and Steve tried not to feel bad about the hesitation in his eyes.

“Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Like with the others?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression taking over his face.

“Um.. what do you mean?”

“Just… have I done anything to them to make them mad? I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve done something but I don’t know what,” Steve confessed. He must have looked as distraught as he felt, because Will seemed to soften at his explanation a bit.

“Why do you think that, Steve?” Will asked softly, and Steve had a moment of realization that Will seemed years older than he looked. Steve sighed, and explained that the kids haven’t really been hanging around him much and instead like to spend time with Eddie. He’s quick to clarify that he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just wants to know what happened. It was Will’s turn to sigh, and he looked at Steve with something akin to sympathy.

“Steve, I don’t say this to be mean but… Eddie just relates to us more, you know? He shares more interests with us, and he seems to get us better,” Will expressed. His eyes widened and he hastily added, “it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you! Just… it’s nice to have somewhere else to go, you know?”

The rest of the evening was spent with Steve silently eating his dinner, Will’s words echoing through his head as he munched on half-burnt bread.

Steve decides then, TV dinner half-eaten and work vest still on his shoulders, that he’s going to make this better.

The next day, Eddie comes into Family Video to pick up some movies, definitely for a movie night judging by the titles— he seriously doubts a metalhead would willingly watch The Goonies, The Dark Crystal, and Ghostbusters by himself on a Saturday night. Eddie bounds up to the register, movies in hand, and does a dramatic bow as he presents them to Steve.

“I wish to borrow these, my liege,” Eddie declares, his voice deep and in a horrible mockery of an English accent. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the small grin on his face at the other man's theatrics.

Eddie looks so effortlessly pretty, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his tattoos exposed through the large arm holes in his homemade tank top. Steve shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and takes the movies to check them out, ignoring the late fee balance on Eddie's account. A glance at the man in front of him, who is bouncing on his toes and looking around the store, gives Steve an idea.

“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”

Eddie snaps his attention back to Steve, looking a little startled to be asked such a thing.

“Uh… yeah, it's still going on. We have to play in Gareth’s hot ass garage since school is out but we’re making it work. Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, uh… the kids complained awhile back that they didn’t have a good spot to play anymore and I was just wondering,” Steve explains. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve can feel him staring. Can feel him looking at him closely. Too closely. He clears his throat and looks back down at the counter, pushing his gold, wire-framed glasses further up his nose. “I uh… I actually wanted to offer up my place? My parents aren’t home much”— more like never— “and I’ve got plenty of space for the gremlins and the other guys. Plus, my A/C works and I’ve got a shit ton of snacks. I’ll stay out of your hair and-“

“Actually uh…” Eddie cuts him off with a strained voice. Steve looks up to find his face contorted like he ate something sour, and he knows what his response is going to be before he opens his mouth. Eddie wipes a hand over his mouth before shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Steve nods— tries not to let the denial sting— and looks down at the movies in his hands. Ignoring how they shake, he sets them on the counter and slides them towards Eddie.

“That’s okay man, I get it. I need a break from the little horrors anyway,” he huffs out, the words digging their way into the pit in his stomach. He puts on his best customer service smile and looks up at Eddie, finding him looking a little wary. Eddie hesitates, as if debating with himself on whether or not to say anything, before rapping his knuckles on the counter in a little rhythm and picking up his movies. An awkward smile finds its way to his face, and Steve thinks it strange and out of place. It’s so.. un-Eddie-like. The pit grows deeper.

Walking backwards towards the entrance, Eddie throws a little salute his way before turning and swinging out the door. A belated “see ya, Harrington” drifts through the closing door in his wake.

Steve slumps over the counter when he’s gone, holding his head in his hands and feeling the childish urge to cry make its way up to his eyes. Even after everything— after walking through hell together, dragging his lifeless body out of the Upside Down as his blood dripped down his back and soaked through his clothes, standing vigil at his side until he woke up two weeks later— Eddie still seems to hate him.

But Steve… he feels the opposite. He has this overwhelming desire to be with Eddie. To hang out with him in the back of his van, drinking sodas and eating snacks as they look out over Lover’s Lake while the sun sets. To talk to him until the early hours of the morning until there’s nothing left to say. To go for drives late at night and listen to his loud music on the radio while holding hands over the center console. He has feelings for Eddie he’s never had before. Not for any past romantic conquests nor any girl. Hell, not even for Nancy. He’s never felt this intense need to be near someone before, and it scares him. It truly terrifies him.

He’s not homophobic— his platonic soulmate is a lesbian, for Christ's sake— but the fact that he feels this way is just… wrong to him. How is Steve Harrington, ladies’ man and charmer extraordinaire, into dudes? What is he, like, half gay? It just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem right, for him to feel like this. He sighs into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. He can’t be thinking about this now, he can’t be thinking about this at all. He needs to shove it in the box in the back of his head where all the hard feelings go, waiting and festering to be dealt with later. He needs to, but he doesn’t know if he can.

Fuck, he needs to talk to Robin. Shit- can he though? What if what he’s feeling is a fluke or something? What if it’s just in his head because he’s desperate? What if Robin thinks he’s making fun of her and won’t take him seriously? It’s not fair of him to throw all his problems on her, even if he thinks she could help. It’s not her job to look after him, to take care of him. He can do that himself. He can figure this out himself.

Distantly, the words of Richard Harrington play in his ears. About how being gay is wrong, how it’s a disease. How it’s a sickness that slowly takes over until there’s nothing left. How it’s a disgrace.

He remembers sitting in the living room with his parents on a rare occasion in which they were home, watching the news channel as it talked about an epidemic spreading through young men. His father scoffed at the screen when they started talking about potential cures.

“Cures? They should just let those fags die. They brought this on themselves, you know. Typical of them to complain about the fucking consequences,” Richard had spat out at the block TV, standing to refill his bourbon. Steve had clenched his fists at his side, his already stiff posture straightening still. He felt angry at his fathers words, something pure and burning in his gut.

He didn’t know what it was at the time, but maybe he should’ve known. Maybe him being queer shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it feels. Maybe he’s always known and just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Maybe that anger he felt at his father’s words was partly on behalf of himself, too.

A wince shudders through him as he remembers how that night ended.

Steve had stood up from the couch, watching the dark liquid flow into the crystal glass in his father’s hand.

“What’s so wrong with being gay? I don’t understand how you could just.. hate people like that. Hate them for just existing,” Steve countered. His father had frozen at his words, slowly setting down the decanter with a solid ‘thunk’ against the metal tray where it belonged and turned to face him. His face was slowly gaining a reddish hue, a sign of the anger rising within him.

“What did you just say?” He demanded, voice scarily calm but laced with an icy rage. Steve swallowed.

“What… What's wrong with being gay, sir?” Steve hesitated, voice failing him. Richard had downed the glass of bourbon before throwing it at Steve, the crystal shattering on the mantelpiece behind him and sending shards flying.

“What’s wrong, Steven, is that you think it’s okay. No son of mine will think like that, not on my watch,” his father boomed, taking long strides towards him. Steve didn’t dare move, only watched his fist grow nearer as he punched him high on his cheek. He fell to the floor, arms trying to protect his head but it was no use. Richard had ripped his arms away, gripping the front of his shirt and making Steve hover above the ground.

“I didn’t raise a fucking fairy, Steven,” he spat. “A faggot.” Steve recoiled, physically feeling the vitriol his father aimed at his face. Richard had sneered, pulled him close and whispered, “Never forget that, Steven,” before shoving him harshly onto the ground and walking away. Black had clouded the edges of his vision, and he laid on the plush rug until it cleared up. He looked over, found his mother silently watching the TV and sipping her wine, and begged with his eyes for her to help him. To say something. Anything. She didn’t, and Steve had to haul himself off the floor, grasping the couch when his vision swam, and stumbled his way to his room.

The rest of that weekend was spent in his room, gingerly cleaning his face and the couple places where glass had cut him on his arms with a wet washcloth and soap. It was the first time he had ever gotten a concussion. He was fifteen.

He remembers replaying the fight over and over again, feeling like those barbs were directed towards him, too. In hindsight, maybe they were. Maybe his father just knew. Knew he was queer long before Steve ever did. Maybe that’s why he’s always so angry with him, so… disappointed. A groan escapes him and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s been thinking way too damn much for it to be this early in the day.

God, he really wishes Robin was here. He knows he can’t talk to her, but it would be nice just to have someone here to keep him from spiraling and drowning in his thoughts. He pushes himself off the counter and goes over to the cart where the returns sit, hoping that busying himself will occupy his thoughts. He sets a few on the shelves when what Eddie said earlier barrels into him full-force.

“Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s stupid. Of course the other Hellfire guys wouldn’t want to be at his house, they probably still see him as King Steve. Most people do, nowadays. Only the ones he went through hell with know he’s different now, that he’s changed. So really, he can’t fault them for being against the idea of Hellfire at his house. He wouldn’t believe it either if he was in their shoes.

Then again, wouldn’t Eddie or the kids try to convince them he’s different? That he’s not a dick? Shit, he’s been through four apocalypses, three concussions, and survived Russian torture— surely they would give him the benefit of the doubt, right? He’s dropped the bad influences out of his life, found better friends, better family— or can he even say that anymore?— to be with. Wouldn’t they try to stick up for him? Or... is he just not worth it?

Steve clenches his eyes shut, willing his bubbling emotions back down, and grips the movie in his hands so hard the plastic begins to creak. The little voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Robin, tells him to breathe. He does. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. Over and over and over again until he’s calm, until his head is clear.

He knows what he needs to do now: apologize. If it's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it’s how to apologize. Hell, he’s done it more times than he can count. He knows how to repair burnt bridges and how to get past the tough exterior of a person to pull at their heartstrings for sympathy. He knows the key; he just has to make himself useful. If he can provide things for the kids, for Eddie and the Hellfire crew, then they’ll want him around. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it is with his parents, with school, with his past friends, and now his current ones. He vaguely recalls his junior year art teacher saying that, "once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but thrice is a pattern." Which means this, this is something he has to make right.

With a plan solidified in his mind, he goes back to work refilling the shelves with movies, brainstorming ideas to get his family back.

Over the next week, Steve becomes a one man show. He offers up more rides, more movie nights, more free reign of his house and his pool and his car and his money and himself just to make the kids happy. He picks up extra shifts at work just to get extra spending money for them, knowing that they go through twenty bucks in no time.

But… it doesn’t work. Because bit by bit, ride by ride, movie marathon by family dinner by game night by post-nightmare phone call, it becomes painfully clear. Everyone puts on a mask around him. One that says they’re happy to see him, that they’re glad he’s here, but he knows it’s a lie. This, really, shouldn’t be much of a surprise. People don’t stick around him much, so why did he think this was any different?

Maybe it’s because he was finally himself around them, he finally opened up and showed a bit of his true self, and was still rejected. Still pushed away. He wasn’t cowering behind a mask this time, he was just Steve. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.

To their credit, it starts off slow. Casual comments that are cut off quickly, kicks under dinner tables and pointed throat clearing. It’s one instance during game night where it all clicks.

The Monopoly board is spread out before them in the Byers-Hopper living room. Steve, of course, is losing. He’s not good with investments and savings and he keeps landing on the goddamn ‘jail’ space but he doesn’t really care, not when he’s finally having fun with the kids. He groans when the dice make him land on one of Mike’s properties, shuffling his fake cash to pull out the tax money.

“C’mon this game is totally rigged. How the hell am I losing to a bunch of teens?” He grumbles as Mike proudly snatches the money from his hand. Max snickers from her place beside him, her pale blue eyes rolling as she looks at him.

“You know, if you actually used your brain then maybe you wouldn’t be losing. Ever think of that?” She quips, and Steve huffs. Leave it to him to be called out by a fifteen year old.

“I’m surprised there’s even a brain in there to begin with,” Dustin states. He’s seated across from Steve. “I mean, why else would he have-“

His comment is cut off by Lucas smacking his arm. Dustin looks at him like he’s about to protest when Lucas raises his eyebrows, looking pointedly from Dustin to Steve and back again. Steve can’t hear from his position so far away, but he swears Dustin mutters “shit” before crossing his arms and looking down at the board. Steve looks around at the rest of the group, noticing how none of them seem to want to look at him, choosing to focus rather intently on the cardboard before them.

The rest of the game is filled with awkward silences. Steve can feel them looking at him when he’s occupied, and it makes him feel like shit inside.

It’s on the drive home when it hits him. He is the one that doesn’t fit into their group, into their family. They’re slowly but surely removing him and replacing him with Eddie. With someone who fits. With someone better. It hits him so hard, so fully, that he has to pull over on a quiet street to sob in his empty car.

The first time it's fully solidified in his mind is at a barbecue at the Byers-Hoppers house. Robin can’t come, her aunt from up north is visiting for the weekend and she has to stay home. Steve walks through the house, planning on saying hello to Joyce before joining the party outside. He finds Joyce talking low to Eddie in the kitchen and he pauses in the doorway, watches how Joyce laughs at something Eddie says. How she places her hand on his arm as her eyes crinkle with the weight of her laugh. Eddie is smiling, open and wide, with a flush high on his cheeks that stains his skin pink. His dimples are on full display and it takes pure willpower for Steve not to go and poke at them, to settle his thumb in the divot of his skin.

Joyce leans close to Eddie and says something under her breath, making him blush purely red now and shush her, causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the both of them. The kitchen is filled with warmth, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the sheer cream-colored curtains that line the two windows as laughter fills the room. It’s light, it’s happiness, it’s love. It’s something Steve hasn’t felt in years.

Steve knocks on the doorframe, waggling his fingers in greeting. They both turn to look at him, and all that warmth from before flees the room. If he hadn’t just seen the thin rays with his own two eyes, he could have sworn even the sun went down as well. He feels a stab of pain in his heart, so sharp it makes his breath stutter. He fights to put a smile on his face, briefly clearing his throat and praying his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he feels.

“Hey, Ms. Byers. Eddie,” he greets. Steve runs a hand through his hair, just to give himself something to do. “Just wanted to say hi before I go outside.”

Eddie’s face has gone completely slack, the only thing convincing Steve he didn’t hallucinate the entire exchange earlier is the flush that had yet to leave his cheeks. In fact, Eddie looks even more red now that he’s made his presence known. Joyce, to her credit, has a small polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, Steve, that's very kind of you,” she replies. She casts a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye, something Steve has noticed a lot of people do to each other when he’s around. “You go on outside now, okay? I’m sure the kids are missing you.”

Steve holds back his remark of “yeah, I actually doubt that” and nods, leaving the two of them in the kitchen as he continues down the hallway. He tries hard not to let the harshness of their quick whispers dig further into his already injured heart.

Once outside, he’s greeted by no one. Dustin and Lucas are discussing something rapidly to one another, Dustin gesturing wildly with his hands as Lucas nods along and adds details. Max and El are sitting on a lawn chair together, Max seemingly teaching El how to braid her hair. Mike and Will are sitting in the grass a bit away from the group, shoulders touching and heads bowed together as they talk quietly to one another. Steve smiles softly at them, knowing.

He makes his way over to Hopper, who is manning the grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other. Steve waves and gives him an awkward little smile, and Hopper nods his head, pointing towards a cooler with his beer. Steve grabs one, popping it open and taking an, admittedly, big first swig. Hopper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment, and Steve looks out over the people he still considers his family. He catches Dustin’s eyes, hoping to have someone to talk to, but the kid only looks away and continues his conversation.

So now Steve is here by himself, slowly nursing a beer, and trying to keep his emotions in check.

It’s just that… he doesn’t know what he did. Was he too overbearing or did he not care enough? Was he too pushy or too distant? Was he just annoying them? Was he just an inconvenience? Did they ever really like him or did they just put up with them out of necessity? Or because they felt bad?

He takes another sip of beer, hating the way it tastes on his tongue but it’s better than the bile slowly rising in his throat. All he wants is for someone to see him, to see who he truly is and like it. To stick around. To stay.

And it’s true, he does have Robin, but sometimes she can’t give him what he needs. Call him a romantic but Steve wants that love, that connection, that intense feeling you get with a partner. He craves it more than anything. He wants to touch, to taste, to feel someone else.

Eddie. He wants Eddie.

A voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Kid, will you go get me a plate for the burgers?” Hopper asks, his gruff voice shoving all of his mushy thoughts aside. Steve nods, sets his beer on top of the cooler, and makes his way inside. He silently dreads ever walking in that room again, dreads having to feel the chill from before. However, the scene in the kitchen is drastically different this time. Joyce is by herself, Eddie nowhere to be seen, and is mixing together slaw in a big tupperware bowl.

Steve knocks on the frame again and is met with a small smile from the older woman. It’s infinitely more warm than the one he was met with when he got there, and he thinks it’s partly due to the lack of a certain metalhead in the room. Joyce sets down her spoon, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, and holds her arms out.

“C’mere, honey,” she murmurs, and Steve tries not to let her soft tone get to him. The last thing he needs is to cry in front of everyone. He walks forwards into her hug, leaning down a little to wrap his arms around her properly, and sighs when she rubs her hands up and down his back. Steve clenches his eyes shut, taking in stuttering breaths that he knows she can hear but thanks every god out there that she doesn’t comment on it. She taps her hands twice on his back and pulls away, reaching up to push some of his hair off his forehead and Steve wills himself to not lean into the touch too much.

“Sorry for not saying a proper hello earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. Eddie- well, that’s not my thing to tell but he needed some help with something and… well, you get it,” she smiles, laughs a little, and Steve smiles back.

This. This is what he wishes he could have with his parents. This lightness, this love. He never will, he knows that, but the little moments like this with Joyce, the way she hugs him and cares for him, are ones he treasures. Ones he wishes he could have everyday. Joyce is a wonderful mother, and part of him wishes he could have her as his own. Hell, she’s been more of a mother to him in the four years he’s known her than his mother ever has. But he knows that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair of him to put his parental issues on her or anyone else. So he doesn’t, and shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“It’s okay, Ms. Byers, I get it. Sorry to interrupt you two, though,” he apologizes. She waves her hands in a shooing motion.

“Oh don’t apologize for that, honey, it’s okay,” she smiles, then hesitates. “I do want you to promise me something, okay?” Steve nods, and Joyce places her hands on either side of his face. “Promise me you’ll be careful with people, be gentle. Not everyone can be treated the same, some people… they’re special.

“Sometimes, it’s better to listen. Promise me, Steve, that you’ll always listen, okay?” She asks, and Steve has to swallow before he responds.

“I promise, Ms. Byers,” he replies, and she pats his cheek. Her smile has grown, and her eyes have softened.

“I love you, Steve, you know that, right?” Joyce asks, and it’s like the world has stopped moving. He didn’t know that, not really. Sure, he knew she liked him but he didn’t know she…

He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until Joyce coos at him, wiping away a few stray tears that have escaped with her thumbs.

“I-I didn’t know you- I’m sorry, I don’t-“ Steve stutters out, but Joyce shushes him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Steve, it’s alright,” she insists. Her thin arms pull him into another hug and he buries his face in her shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s a comfort Steve hasn’t had in ages so he stays. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Her small hands rub up and down his back as he holds back tears. He regulates his breathing, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, until he’s sure he won’t cry. He pulls back from the hug and wipes at his eyes, sure that they're red-rimmed and a little puffy, but Joyce only smiles that warm smile and pats his cheek again. Steve smiles at her, the first genuine smile he thinks he’s had in awhile, and it feels good. To smile and know it's real.

Joyce turns to the counter behind her and picks up a plate, handing it to Steve. His brows furrow, and he hesitantly takes the offered crockery.

“How did you-“

“I had a feeling,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Now go on before Hop burns the yard down.”

Steve smiles and goes back outside, handing the plate to Hop and ignoring his grumble of “took ya long enough”, before picking his beer back up and taking a much needed swig. A few minutes later, they’re all eating. Eddie has joined Dustin and Lucas in their rambling, all three of them loudly talking over one another. Steve watches them; wishing, wanting, yearning. Joyce bumps her shoulder into his, making him swivel his head to look down at her. She smiles, almost knowingly, and Steve blushes. He clears his throat and looks away, focusing on fixing his burger rather than whatever the fuck that was.

He sits alone away from the group, catching occasional glances from Joyce, Dustin, and Hopper. Joyce is concerned, he can tell that much, and part of her almost looks sad. Dustin looks conflicted, like he can’t decide if he wants to be mad from a distance or just come right up to Steve and say it to his face. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did the latter. Hopper, to Steve’s complete unsurprise, looks uninterested and, frankly, fed up with this whole situation. Steve doesn’t blame him, he is too.

After the food is gone, and dessert is served, Steve heads inside to help clean up. He washes dishes quietly with Joyce, while she dries them and puts them away. As he finishes up the last plate, Will comes into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom? The party wanted to play some board games, is that okay?” He requests, and Steve can feel Joyce soften beside him. She smiles.

“Of course, honey. Make sure you ask the girls what they want to play, too, okay?” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, a mannerism Steve notes he definitely got from Mike.

“Got it, Mom,” he replies, and runs off. Steve turns back to the sink, realizing he’s been scrubbing the plate well past the point of clean, and rinses it off.

“I um.. I think I’m going to head out, Ms. Byers,” he begins. He hands the plate to her. ��I’ve got a shift tomorrow and uh… I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to repeat the last game night, where everyone kept glancing at him like he was a bomb set to explode at any moment. He doesn’t say that he can’t handle their stares for any longer than he already has.

“Oh, are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,” Joyce offers, but Steve shakes his head.

“I really should be going, sorry.”

“Alright, dear. Let me walk you out,” she insists, moving to take off her apron.

“I’ll walk him out, Joyce, don’t worry about it,” Hopper's gruff voice interrupts from the doorway. Steve swallows and nods, drying his hands off on a towel. He looks at Joyce, seeing her share a glance and a smile with Hopper before looking back at him. He smiles, finally beginning to think that maybe… maybe things will be okay.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers. For everything,” he expresses. He leans down to give her a hug, her arms quickly hugging him back.

“It’s alright, dear. You come to me if you ever want to talk, you hear?” Steve pulls away from the hug.

“I will, promise,” he hesitates. Steve looks down at his hands, shaking from where they’re clutching each other, and takes a breath. “I… I love you too.”

He looks up right as Joyce pulls him into another hug. He laughs a little, and she pats his back before pulling away with a “be safe”. Hopper clears his throat from the door and Steve takes a step back, nods to Joyce, and follows the other man outside.

They step out on the front porch together, and Steve is prepared to continue walking to his car when Hop places a hand on his shoulder. He stops, and turns to find the man looking at him seriously.

“Son, I want you to promise me something,” he grumbles, and Steve begins to feel a strange sense of deja vu. While Joyce’s tone was soft, Hopper’s is deep and leaves no room for hesitation. He vaguely has a thought that this is what his father would have been like if things were different. If he were different. Steve nods.

“Promise me you’ll fix our shit, alright? I don’t wanna get in the middle of… whatever the hell this is but promise you’ll be better, okay?” He commands, and all the thoughts Steve had earlier about thinking things would be okay fly out the window.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stutters out. Hop claps his shoulder, mumbles a “get home safe”, before pulling a pack of smokes out his pocket and lighting one up. Steve turns, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets, and walks to his car.

Getting in his car is a blur of unconscious actions. He’s driving down a barely lit backroad when he registers that his eyes are stinging, and something warm and wet is dripping down his cheeks. He pulls over on the side of the road, shifting his car into park, and he sits there. He reaches up with a shaky hand and wipes his cheek, his hand coming back wet and shining in the faint glow of the moon. The sight breaks him, and an ugly sob rips its way out his throat. He chokes on an inhale as tears fight their way out, and he hugs his arms around himself as a sad semblance of comfort. His forehead finds purchase on the steering wheel, and his tears stain the leather before dripping on his lap.

He cries because he knows he’s the problem, that he’s the one fucking up. He cries because everyone thinks so, everyone knows. The kids know. Eddie knows. Joyce knows, but she’s just too kind to say it to his face. Hell, even Hopper knows. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did wrong. He cries because he doesn’t think anyone really wants him to fix it.

It’s the second time on a drive home from the Byers-Hopper house that he has to pull over and cry.

He struggles to inhale a deep breath and sits up, harshly wiping his tears away with his hand, uncaring that it rubs his skin raw and red. Sniffling, he puts his car in drive and goes home. Toeing his shoes off at the door is the only thing he thinks to do before he stumbles his way upstairs and collapses on his bed, snuggling into the thin comforter and falling into a fitful sleep.

After a slow shift at Family Video the next day, Steve returns to the darkness of his home with a plan. He can still be useful. They may not have to know, but he can still do something to help. To try and save them before they need to be saved. He can be a preventative measure for them, can stop them from getting hurt before they even know they’re in danger.

He shrugs off his work vest, throwing it on his desk chair as he searches his closet for an old sweatshirt. He finds one, the front adorned with white block letters that read ‘Tigers Swim Team’ and tugs it on. His nail bat finds purchase in his hand as he tucks a flashlight in his back pocket. The walkie Dustin gave him is hooked in his belt loop, just in case. He leaves all the lights on in the house and shuts the door, skirting around his house to begin his walk in the woods.

After four bouts with the Upside Down, he doubts that they’re in the clear, that it’s finally over. He thought it was the first time, then the second, and by the third he was skeptical. Now, though, he doesn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a round five, or six, or seven. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if it never stopped. But each and every time, they were unprepared. They were surprised, and it nearly cost them every time. But if Steve could prevent that surprise, give them all a heads up before it becomes a big problem, then maybe— just maybe— it’ll come in handy. He’ll come in handy. He’ll be useful again.

So, he walks the woods of Hawkins. His feet crunch the dead leaves piled underneath trees as he trudges through the woods. The flashlight shines long shadows on the ground in front of him, lighting up the pale gray bark of trees and making the eyes of rodents and raccoons shine amber and red.

A rustle sounds a few feet away and he jumps at the noise. He pauses and stands still, listening for the shrill chittering of demodogs or the heavy, thudding footsteps of a demogorgon. He waits, and his flashlight reveals a small fox walking out from behind a tree. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues walking.

His feet carry him to Lover’s Lake, the water lapping lazily at the shore with the warm summer breeze. Out here, the lights from town are distant, making the stars shine brightly and reflect in the water. Steve stands there, watches as the artificial light of his flashlight reveals the small ripples on the surface of the water, and waits.

He waits for a lumbering figure to emerge out of the murky depths, to claw its way onto the shore and stalk off into the woods. He waits for chirps muffled by water and splashing to sound in his ears as four-legged creatures swim to the beaches. He waits for the screeches of demonic bats to echo off the trees around him as they fly out of the water and take to the sky. He waits, but it never comes. The lake stays silent.

So he walks.

He follows the road leading to the lake out, letting it take him to the highway that leads out of town. His feet stop as they come across a crack in the road, the crack he took in the other world to get Eddie home safely. The crack that is closed over with black tar, leaving a dark line on the ashen gray asphalt. He remembers clawing his way out of that crack, Eddie’s lifeless body over his shoulders as he slowly bled out.

Nancy had driven her station wagon over, opening the back so he could lay Eddie down as they rode to the hospital. She had asked Steve to drive so she could patch him up, but he refused. He couldn’t leave Eddie, not when he finally got him out. Not when he was barely hanging on. So she threw the first aid kit she had stashed in her car at him and drove to the hospital. Steve had done his best to stop the bleeding, the stark white cloth immediately turning red when he pressed it to Eddie’s skin. They almost lost him. But they didn’t. He’s alive.

Eddie. Eddie.

His head swivels to the forest next to him, the one that leads straight to the trailer park, and he runs. He jumps over fallen trees, feet thudding against the dry earth and leaves as his breath picks up. Orange street lights shine through branches as he draws nearer, and he only slows his pace when he breaks out from the line of trees. His feet swiftly take him to the sight of Eddie’s old trailer, the vacant lot standing out against the fullness of the park. The wooden front steps are still there, partially broken and shifted. The grass has yet to grow in fully, bare spots of dirt showing through the green. His shoes crunch on the gravel as he takes a step closer, inspecting the ground and poking at it with his bat as if it would move. As if the gate would open up just by him being here.

It doesn’t. Steve steps back.

He turns to leave the park, eyes wandering and finding a familiar cream-colored van parked at a trailer a few rows away. Eddie and his Uncle were granted a new trailer for their trouble, really the bare minimum they deserve after all the shit they went through, but they took it in stride. Eddie and Wayne spent the first few weeks after spring break making it into their new home once Eddie was released from the hospital, and Steve had done his best to help them out. But he knew they needed time alone, time to heal, so he let them be. He hasn’t been back there since then.

He kicks a stray piece of gravel, watching as it tumbles a few feet away and disappears into the grass, as he makes his way out of Forest Hills. Houses blur by as he walks the residential streets, only stopping when his own comes into view. Steve sighs, and walks up the concrete driveway, through the large wooden doors, and into the silence of his house. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes, reveling a little in the dirty footprints he leaves behind on his mothers’ ornate runner that covers the length of the hallway. The analog on the stove tells him it's a little past three in the morning, and he sighs. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he fills it up with water before shuffling out of the kitchen. He flops on the couch, sips his water, and waits.

He waits for the sun to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows on the curtains that cover the windows and glass doors. He waits for the warm rays to shine through the large window in the living room, the one that faces the road, and light up the rug that rests under the coffee table in soft hues of yellow. He sits his empty glass on the table. He waits. And he gets up.

He goes upstairs, changes his shirt, and grabs his vest. Steve slips the walkie off his belt loop and places it on his desk, the flashlight landing right beside it. He props the bat next to his chair, and Steve looks at it, looks at the bent nails sticking haphazardly out of the wood and how it splintered in places from too much force. How some of the nails are covered in dried, blackened goop and dirt. How it's sharp and dangerous, a weapon. How it’s chosen to protect.

At this moment, Steve feels like the bat. The rough wood is his exterior, the splinters through it are the cracks. The holes in his facade. The places where people got too close, where people hurt him. The nails are what makes him strong. They’re the kids, Joyce and Hop, Eddie and Robin. They’re his family. They mold him into a weapon meant to protect, to keep them safe.

But just like Steve, the bat isn’t needed until it’s necessary. Until the world is ending. But until that time comes, the bat is left out of sight. It’s hidden away, moved from place to place just in case, but never used. Never wanted.

Steve walks out the door.

His shift at Family Video passes by like every other day, slow and full of know-it-all customers that never seem to understand that he can’t magically summon movies out of his ass whenever they ask. Robin comes in around lunchtime, and they spend the rest of their joint shift making fun of the ridiculous movie covers that adorn various romcoms. He goes home alone, sheds his vest, and once again walks the town of Hawkins.

He does it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until it’s been a week and Steve hasn’t slept for more than a couple hours a night. He doesn’t mind, just means there’s less nightmares to wake him up before sunrise.

Less nights where chittering and the thuds of heavy footsteps strike fear down to his core. Less nights where the chill of fog and night air pierce his skin, warring with his senses against the hot breath hitting the back of his neck from deadly flower-shaped mouths. Less nights where the harsh scraping of monstrous nails against rusted metal and the echoey bangs of heavy, meaty bodies against solid bus walls fill his ears. Less nights where he can feel the thick, choking air of the tunnels, can feel the wispy particles filling his lungs and coating the inside of his mouth.

Less nights filled with muffled Russian echoing in his ears, the harsh texture of rope around his wrists, arms, and chest. Less nights where the sickening crunch of fists against bone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth linger for hours after he’s awoken, shallowly breathing and pleading to be let go. Less nights where he can feel the blood in his teeth, coating his tongue and dripping down the back of his throat, and he has to run to the bathroom to puke the phantom feeling away.

Less nights he wakes up alone, empty house hollow around him. Less nights he cries to himself in the silence of his room, wishing, hoping, yearning for something. For something to happen, to change. For something to get better. For him to get better.

On the eighth night, he finds his feet have taken him to the edge of Hawkins. The brown road sign reads ‘Leaving Hawkins! Come Again Soon!’, and it stares at him from a few feet away. He looks past the sign at the stretch of road that disappears around a curve, trees following the line of asphalt and distant street lights lighting up their leaves with an orange glow.

He thinks about what it would be like to leave Hawkins, to pack up his clothes in his car and leave town. To follow the road and go around that curve, to not worry about ever coming back. No one needs him here, not anymore, so what’s holding him back?

Maybe this will fix him.

Robin might miss him for a bit, probably curse him and his whole family when she figures it out, but she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better. Hell, she’ll probably go to Eddie too. They already have some sort of secret friendship thing going on between them anyway. Really, he wouldn’t blame her.

Eddie probably wouldn’t care. Shit, he might even throw a party celebrating the fact that he’s gone. Steve snorts at the thought, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?

But then there’s the kids, left behind with no one to protect them. Sure, Robin and Eddie and Nancy are here, but Nancy is off to Emerson in the fall, Robin surely bound to follow in similar footsteps, and Eddie has made it well-known that he’s getting the hell out of here. If everyone is gone, who will be here to protect them when it comes back?

He rakes a hand harshly through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends and hating how greasy it feels on his fingertips. He can’t think like that, he’ll just worry himself into a panic and that’s the last thing he needs right now; a panic attack on the side of the road. He turns around, walking back towards town as the sky fades into light. He gets home right when sunlight begins burning the tops of the trees and collapses on the couch, sleeping until his noon shift.

He’s exhausted when he gets home, having to close up Family Video after a ten hour shift by himself, but he knows he can’t sleep. Not now. So he does what he usually does now when he gets home and grabs his essentials for his rounds, something that’s become routine for him.

He shrugs off his work clothes, replacing it with what has become his patrol outfit; the old swim team sweatshirt and a faded, ripped pair of light blue jeans. The sweatshirt is filled with holes, the baggy sleeves having caught on briars and branches alike, that allow the white of his shirt to show through. The jeans share a similar fate, the knees scraped up and the denim fraying from the unhemmed edges.

His white Nikes are stained a gray-ish brown from the nightly treks through the woods, small bits of leaves and debris sticking to the laces and in the grooves of the tread. The flashlight finds its place in his back left pocket, an extra pair of batteries landing in his front pocket after an incident a few nights ago where his flashlight died on him out in the middle of nowhere— he was forced to stumble through the woods until the sun began to rise and he was able to find his way back home. He didn’t sleep that night.

The nail bat is crusted with dried bits of mud sticking to the slowly rusting metal, shredded bits of leaves and undergrowth tangled in a green and brown mass. Clumps of dirt litter the floor under the bat, and likely mark a line in the hallway from his room down to the front door. Steve hopes it's still there if his parents come home.

It’s dark outside, only the street light at the end of the driveway illuminates the concrete and stepping stone pathway to the front door. Steve steps out on the front stoop, taking a deep breath of cool summer night air, and starts walking.

He walks out onto the street, uncaring at this point if anyone sees him or not. What does he have to lose? Hopper would probably tell him he’s stupid— something he’s well aware of at this point— and tell him to go inside. Or maybe he would drive him home, take the bat, and leave.

A small, traitorous part of Steve wants Hop to find him. Wants him to ask what the hell he’s doing walking around at night alone in the dark. Wants him to coax him in his old beat up truck and take him back to the Byers’ house. Wants some of Joyce’s hot chocolate as he sits on the couch and explains what he’s been doing, what’s been going on. Ask, desperately, why everyone hates him. Wants them to tell him he’s wrong, that no one hates him. That it’s just a misunderstanding.

But it doesn’t happen. All of that is a lie.

It’s a lie Steve has secretly been telling himself under the cover of darkness alone in his bed, lying awake and exhausted but unable to sleep. It’s a lie he tells himself when he sees any of the kids so he can act normal, act okay. It’s a lie he tells himself when Eddie grins at him, wide and gleaming, eyes sparkling with the afternoon sun beaming in from the storefront windows.

It’s those grins, those looks Eddie gives him sometimes that almost convinces him the lie is fake. Like Eddie is sharing an inside joke with him, only Steve doesn’t know what it is. Eddie doesn’t come around often but when he does… god, it’s like he’s the only one in the room.

Eddie looks at him with his whole body, always focusing on him so wholly and touching in some way. A hand on his bicep, an arm slung around his shoulder, even his arms wrapped around his waist one time. He was friendly, they were friends, until he wasn’t. Until Steve did something stupid that he still can’t figure out and Eddie is avoiding him.

The crunch of gravel under his sole brings him back into his head a little. He looks up, finding the pale orange glow of a lamp through a trailer window, and curses. His feet have brought him to where his mind always seems to go these days: Eddie.

He stands outside of the trailer, watching the way the little bits of weeds around the base shift and sway in the wind. The sky is filled with patches of clouds, light gray ripples standing out against the black sky from the glow of the moon. Steve isn’t completely sure how he got here, only that he started walking and didn’t really… stop.

Wayne’s truck is gone, leaving only Eddie’s cream-colored van among the gravel and grass. Which means Eddie is home and, judging by the light in the window, awake. Steve has a fleeting thought that he should turn around, walk back home, and try to forget he ever came here. Try to forget that he didn’t mean to, that his head and his heart are traitorous beings that have conspired against him to bring his body to the one place— one person— where he isn’t welcome. He tries to move, to will his legs and his feet to catch up with his brain and the urge to run. But they don’t. They stay frozen to the ground, rooted in place as if they belong here. As if he belongs here.

A voice cuts his thoughts off, one that he could pick out in a crowd full of people. His eyes snap to the front door of the trailer, now open and spilling warm light onto the wooden steps that lead down to the gravel drive. A figure grows near, tall and lanky and Steve feels like he’s trapped. His thoughts get louder, yelling and screaming at him to run run ruN RUN RUN-

Hands on his shoulders. Eddie’s face in front of him.

Eddie looks panicked, his dark eyes wide and dancing around as if searching Steve's face for… something. He must not find it, because the two little lines between his brows appear and his mouth starts moving. It’s all muffled, like he’s trying to talk through glass. Steve blinks.

“-ington? Steve,” Eddie’s pleading voice finds his ears as he shakes his shoulders, the fog in his head dissipating as the strained way his name falls from his lips. Steve hums. He blinks again.

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie is here. He’s in front of him. He can see him. He’s here and he can see and Steve shouldn’t be here he needs to go-

“Stevie, are you okay?” The fear in Eddie’s voice cuts off his train of thought— something that seems to happen a lot nowadays— and Steve feels every sensation return to his body. The heavy hands on his shoulders, soft and warm and missing their signature rings. The distant chill of the night air on his exposed bits of skin seeping away at the small amount of space between them. The faint puff of air on his face from the man before him. The fact that all of those things are from Eddie.

Steve clears his throat, swallows. Tries to focus his eyes on Eddie’s face.

“I’m fine, Eddie. I um.. sorry,” he trails off. He tries to smile, at least give something to reassure him, to keep him from asking questions. Steve doesn’t think he could answer them.

To his surprise, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they clench shut and his head drops. His shoulders move with his lungs as he takes a breath before looking back up at him.

“Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, Steve. Thought…” he trails off. His voice wavers. “Thought you were gone. Like… like her.”

Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.

“Shit- sorry, Eds, I didn’t even realize- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Steve pleads. He takes in his surroundings, realizes he’s been standing out here, alone, for who knows how long. He needs to leave. “I-I should go.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You don’t have to leave, Stevie, it’s fi-“ he cuts himself off.

Steve looks up at that, unsure of when he stopped looking at Eddie, and takes in his pinched expression. The one that’s trained to the ground. The one that’s trained towards-

“What the fuck is this?”

Shit.

“I-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He begs, voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears. It’s raspy and breaks after a few words. When was the last time he really spoke to anyone today?

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eds, I really don’t- please, believe me,” he pleads. “It’s just for protection! I don’t-“

“Why are you covered in mud, Steve?” Eddie cuts him off, voice strange and cautious and his hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t look the best, knows that his clothes are dirty, but he looks down at himself anyway. His eyes focus on a leaf stuck to his shoelace. He shrugs.

Eddie moves in front of him, a quick thing that Steve suspects is him shaking his head. He mumbles something he can’t hear, voice only a rumble in his throat but Steve knows enough to know that people only talk under their breath when they’re mad. When he’s done something wrong.

He pulls away. Eddie’s hands drop off his shoulders.

“I-I should go. Sorry for bothering you, an-… and keeping you awake,” Steve stutters out, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. He chances a look at him, finding concern written on Eddie’s face. It softens when they make eye contact, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I wasn’t asleep, Stevie. Don’t really, uh.. sleep much, these days. I usually just wait around for Wayne to get home to catch a couple hours. Doesn’t feel safe here by myself, you know?” Eddie confesses, mouth turned upwards in a small, sardonic smile. Steve nods. He does know, he’s never felt safe in his home. With or without people. He’s been going through it for years, long before the events of ‘83. He doesn’t say any of that though, doesn’t think he has the right to.

Eddie steps towards him, closing the bit of distance Steve made between the two, and rests his hand on the arm holding the bat.

“Come inside, Steve,” Eddie requests, voice low and soft. Eddie’s smiling at him. It’s that soft, small, Eddie smile. One that Steve has only seen a handful of times. It’s asking him to say yes, and Steve… he’s weak. So, so weak.

“Okay.”

Eddie’s smile grows.

His hand wraps further around his arm, tugging him towards the open trailer door and Steve feels betrayed that now is when his feet decide to move. He follows Eddie, watching the way he’s glancing at him the entire time. Eddie pauses at the doorway.

“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve looks at him. His hand travels down his arm, causing goosebumps in its wake despite the layer of fabric between their skin. It pauses over the hand still gripping the bat, thumb brushing along his knuckles. “Let it go.”

Steve looks at him, searches those dark brown eyes for fear or hate or anger but finds none. He only finds care. Concern. Love.

It’s terrifying.

He loosens his grip and Eddie takes it from him, the comforting weight of the bat replaced with the warmth of Eddie’s hand. He props it just inside the door to the trailer and leads him over the threshold by the grip on his hand. He’s led over to the couch where a hand on his back urges him to sit down. Steve does, and instantly sinks into the well-worn cushions.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gonna get you some water,” Eddie informs him, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing his grip and turning the corner to venture into the kitchen. Steve watches him go, the way the baggy and worn band shirt hangs off his frame. The way his sweatpants are bunched up at the ankle as if they’re too big for him. The way his hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head that swings a little when he walks away. Even now, he’s beautiful.

Shit. He’s so gone for this man.

Eddie returns with a glass of water and flops down on the couch beside him, pressing the cool surface of the cup into his palm. He takes it with a shaky hand, his other joining it to help stabilize the glass. It doesn’t work.

He takes a small sip of water, the liquid feeling like heaven against his dry throat. They sit in silence until Steve finishes half the glass. Then, Eddie speaks.

“Why were you outside at two in the morning, Stevie?” His voice is gentle, and it makes Steve want to cry. He swallows.

“I- I don’t know,” he deflects, lies. Anything to not talk about it.

The harsh sound of a mock game show buzzer startles him, and he turns to find Eddie with his hands cupped around his mouth. Steve grins and lets his head drop, and Eddie nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the surface of the water in his hands.

“I have to keep them safe, Eddie,” he confesses. Eddie stays silent, hand gently rubbing his forearm. “It’s what I need to do. What I have to do.”

Silence stretches between them, then, “who, Steve? Who do you have to keep safe?”

‘You,’ he wants to say. ‘You almost died. It’s never been that close before, not in the four years this shit has been going on. You and Max almost died, and I wasn’t there to protect you. I wasn’t with you and Dustin to keep you both safe, to help fight off the bats and urge you through the gate. I wasn’t with Max and Lucas and Erica, wasn’t there to fight off Carver and save Max just a little bit earlier. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. Carver should have beat me to pieces, not Lucas. It should have been me the bats got to, not you. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.’

Hands fall over his as Eddie takes the glass from him. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking that bad in his revere, causing the water to spill over the sides and onto the brown carpet below them. The glass thunks on the coffee table before Eddie rests his hands over Steve’s, stills their shaking.

“Hey, talk to me, Stevie,” he practically begs. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Steve looks at him, sees the worry in his eyes, and wets his lips with his tongue. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes flicker down at the movement. He clenches his fists.

“Please don’t tell Robin,” he pleads. If she found out about this, if she knew, he wouldn’t be allowed outside alone ever again. She would worry about him, keep him under lock and key to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would stay with him during the night, insert herself firmly by his side until she was sure he was okay. She would make him sleep in his own bed, trapped between his own walls. Trapped in his own house. He can’t stand that place, can’t handle the echoey walls and empty rooms. Can’t stand not being able to do anything for anyone. Can’t stand to be useless.

He’s just wasting time right now. He shouldn’t be here, talking to Eddie, when he could be checking the gates. He should be out there trying to save people, not himself. He should be trying to save his family. He could already be too late. It might have already come back while he was distracted and they could all be gone. It could have been waiting until he was occupied, waiting for an opening to strike. They could be in danger right now. They could be dead.

“Alright, I can do that. I won’t tell her but… Steve, why-“ Steve cuts him off by standing up on shaky legs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Steve?”

“I need to go, Eddie, I need to- they could- I need to go,” the words tumble out of his mouth, words he isn’t quite sure even make sense but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out.

Steve walks over to the door, eyes locking on the bat propped there, before he hears Eddie stand up behind him. He turns to find Eddie holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to placate a wild animal and, at this moment, he kinda feels like one. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his breathing quicken. His throat closes up as panic claws its way upwards and clouds his vision, muffling his hearing. Eddie’s mouth moves but Steve can’t hear it through the cotton in his ears. He backs towards the door, hating the fear in Eddie’s eyes as he does so.

His back hits the wall next to the door and he turns, hand finding the rough wood of the bat almost instantly, before he runs out the door. The small “sorry” he lets out is an afterthought, thrown over his shoulder right before the trailer door slams shut behind him and his feet crunch on gravel as he runs towards town.

His blind panic takes him to Dustin’s house first, finding all the lights turned off save for the faint glow of the hall night light through sheer curtains. He stays there for a minute or two, waiting for the sign of flickering lights. Nothing comes.

A couple streets over, he stops in front of Lucas’s house, finds the same thing. Dark. He stands there and waits. No flickering. He runs.

The Wheelers. Dark. He waits, no flickering. He runs.

The Byers-Hoppers. Dark. Waits. No flickering. Runs.

Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

His house. Light.

They’re safe. He collapses.

He sits heavily on the front stoop, bat falling to the ground and knocking against the concrete with a thud. His knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap tightly around them as he rasps for breath, the air coming in short, quick bursts. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his calves, hard enough to leave bruises. His forehead rests heavily on his knees and his eyes sting, welling with tears as the fear slowly fades away.

He sits outside, struggling for breath until the sun begins to rise, and waits. When the sun finds its way over the trees, he makes his way inside to get ready for his opening shift.

The bat finds a new home in his trunk.

Taglist: @tea-beloved @starry-eyedlune @hyperfixationgoddess @zerokrox-blog @nicovania @invisibleflame812 @chaoticvictorianspirit @justforthedead89 @dacremontgomeryay @vhelt @adhdsummer @nerd-and-nervous @i-have-three-feelings @mimicori @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @solliesolesito @romanticdestruction @vanillatwist @bowl-o-queerios @grimmfitzz

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

[stranger-theory]

Song & Scene Analysis: Lumax vs Byler

I've also posted this on the Byler Subreddit so if you see it there, hi, that's me!

I’m sure you’re aware of song importance in Stranger Things with the Duffer Brothers saying sometimes it takes weeks to pick a song that conveys the exact message they’re trying to portray. I’ve seen quite a bit of theories around what songs mean what, but there’s one specific song that caught my attention.

There’s a scene in season two, episode six where Lucas and Max speak on top of a bus in the junkyard. It’s a lovely scene in which Max explains her behavior to Lucas, and apologizes for some stuff she wasn’t proud of. She says she’s sorry for acting like a jerk, and doesn’t ever want to be like that, but she feels overwhelmed with her home life and takes it out on people she doesn’t mean to. She then expresses that she likes California, and sometimes wants to go home, but having Lucas there with her for comfort makes her feel better. Max makes a call back to their “Stalker” joke, with a shared laugh. This emotional scene is then cut off by the sighting of a demodog, and a tense scene plays.

Now you know the base of the conversation, let me tell you about a similar scene I see as a parallel. Season four, episode four bedroom talk. This scene is between Mike and Will, where Mike apologizes to Will. In his apology he says he’s sorry for acting like a jerk, but everything with El was just really overwhelming and he doesn’t want Will to feel like their argument was personal. Mike explains to Will that he really appreciates Hawkins, but, since Will moved to California, it feels different. He misses Will. They share a “Cool” with each other and sit in silence while smiling, but are cut off by the doorbell as Jack’s men come searching for El.

These scenes may not feel as similar as I'm insisting with just this information, but there’s a very key portion to this parallel: Music.

I’m going to go through these scenes at the same time to help you understand where I’m coming from. At the current moments in time for these scenes, Lucas/Will have a like Max/Mike, but don’t know how to confront them about it. Max/Mike both apologize to Lucas/Will for hurting them when they didn’t mean to. Max/Mike say the reason they acted like this was because they felt overwhelmed with their lives at the moment. Max/Mike say that they like California/Hawkins but without Lucas/Will, it wouldn’t be/isn't the same. Max/Mike make a callback to “Stalker/Cool”. Almost directly after these heartfelt talks, they’re interrupted with the intense Demodog/Goverment scenes. The same song plays in these scenes to further imply that we’re supposed to view them the same way. The camera slowly zooms closer on their reactions to help the audience grasp these scenes better, and help it feel more intimate.

These are things you basically can’t deny, as I’m just stating the facts of these scenes. From all of these similarities and comparisons, we can also further suspect other aspects of these scenes. Something we’re allowed to assume is that, like Max, Mike also has feelings for Will. If the original scene including this song is meant to be interpreted as romantic, then why would the second be any different? If the original scene is meant to be read as a “romantic” and “intimate” apology, then why would the second scene suddenly be a purely platonic interaction? If they’d wanted us as an audience to think otherwise, then they would have chosen a different way to portray this scene.

I thank you greatly for listening to me rant about why this scene drove me crazy. I’ve been looking forward to posting this for a while, but with my very on fire Spongebob looking brain, I never remembered. I’d love love looooove to hear your thoughts and add ons to this, ESPECIALLY corrections if i’ve somehow misinterpreted something. I wouldn't want to spread misinformation. Have a good morning, afternoon, or night, folks.

[mosscloakenthusiast]

MCYT Yuri week day 1 - dance/break

[for the full experience, this song is what the pianist is playing, and i think it's quite nice so go give it a listen while you read. it took me half the time i spent on this to pick what song to use so indulge me give a listen]

[also posted on my ao3! ]

Someone’s playing piano in the house. It’s soft, and clunky, and honestly half the notes are wrong. Bekyamon doesn’t quite understand music, not properly, honestly it seems quite complicated, and when she runs across the piano full speed it’s seen as a nuisance, so frankly the fact that humans can get away with doing basically the same thing is more than rude.

But, despite all of this, Bek is drawn out of the fight club, to at least stand in the middle of the attic and try and absorb some of the fanciness of it. El would probably like this, after all. She’s pretty easily swayed by that sort of argument.

And, speak of the devil, Eloise has also been drawn out by the music, apparently. El’s listening quite intently. Which catches Bek’s attention, if for no other reason than. Well. She’s pretty. Bek’s easy enough to please.

And, Bek not quite looking away fast enough, El catches their gaze, holding it a second too long.

“See I thought you’d claim to be too cool for music, Bekyamon.” She’s smiling, never quite serious. Somehow she’s got paint stuck in her fur, painting a rainbow across her face. 

“I am too cool for music but, hey, if a lovely lady such as yourself is so invested in it, I can’t blame you.” Bek sidles closer, taking her chances. “Especially one looking rather charming covered in paint.”

“Oh the- Yeah. I got really into my painting, and completely lost track of time.”

“Can I see it?”

“Not until it’s done. It’s a whole lot of nothing right now mate, to be honest.”

“Something enough to get paint everywhere though?” 

“I guess.” El falls quiet, once again seemingly absorbed in the piano music. Bek thinks, as much as she loves talking, maybe now is a moment to hush. Let the rat think. Whatever it is she’s so focused on.

She’s following the music, nodding her head in time with the beat, humming occasionally. They’re not far from a window, and light from the moon streams it, hitting El’s back, and almost making her glow. Bek thinks that’s a bit cliché, even more so to tell her, so instead goes for something which arguably is worse. She gently grabs El’s paw. Now she might have really fucked this, but she’s a rat of many talents, namely being incredibly bold and punching good, so not much in the world could stop her right now.

“What’s on your mind?” She asks, trying not to reveal how much her own head is filled entirely with the Eloise in front of her.

“The music isn’t right. They’ve skipped a couple notes, and it’s really getting on my nerves. It’s not meant to be a waltz, it’s really a more consistent rhythm.”

“You know the song?” Of course she knows the song. Why wouldn’t a rat born from aristocracy know every single song. Bek decides to pretend she doesn’t find that really sweet.

“I used to hear it played a lot by my old bin. Someone nearby loved it. It's called, uh-” And El freezes, suddenly all attention on Bek, eyes that Bek could fall into forever. “Don’t laugh.”

Bek, risktaker, grabs El’s other paw. “I wouldn't. Well, I might, but only because you’re quite pretty.”

“It’s called, uh, What Falling In Love Feels Like.”

Oh. uh, “Oh. is it- would you say it’s accurate?”

“I’m not sure I know enough about love.”

Of course. Killer blow. The musician plays a note that horribly clashes and Bek crashes herself back down to Earth.

“Maybe…” El hasn’t made any effort to remove her paws from the other’s grip, “Maybe you could show me?”

Bek does stifle a giggle, if just because she’s being sent on a bloody roller coaster right now. “Show you what falling in love feels like? How would I do that, besides my general charms and nice face, eh?”

“Someone told me at some point it was like dancing. Would you- care to dance?”

“I won’t promise to be good-”

“Oh you’re a fighter, it’s the same skill set really.” El says, clearly having made up her mind, and she pulls Bek properly flush to her, and begins to step in time with the waltz, counting under her breath. Bek has to rip her eyes away from El’s to watch their feet, match the rhythm, not completely trample the rat she has a crush on who just asked her to show her what falling in love felt like. Which is in itself a crazy situation. So she’s not going to fuck it up by stepping wrong.

And it is a bit like fighting, in terms of following your partner’s movements reverently, leaning when they lean, saying when they sway. Bek risks spinning El, twirling her and then grabbing her hand again, and El seems delighted, as small specks of paint fly off her face.

“You look beautiful.” Bek admits, painstakingly honest compared to her usual advances.

“So do you, actually. I think-” El cuts herself off, focusing again on the dance, resting her head on Bek’s chest. “I- you’re-” “Don’t worry about that right now, eh? Dance with me. Worry about that later.” 

“Will you be here, later?” “Not planning on going anywhere, am I?”

“In which case, I’m going to teach you how to do this properly.”

“I thought I was doing a great job!” El laughs, and it’s like the sun. Yes it’s the middle of the night. Allow Bekyamon some dramatics. 

And they dance as long as the pianist plays, and Bek does get kind of good at it! She swears! And it’s comfortable, and nice, and Bek tries her absolute hardest to ignore her heart going a mile a minute in her chest. 

It’s nice. And Bek is decidedly less shit at dancing by the end of it. And maybe El is somewhat a little bit in love. That would be nice. No promises though.

[thirdwifeofriversong]

going back through some old notes on my phone and found my unfiltered original reactions to volumes 1 & 2 of stranger things 4… (spoilers below the break)

VOL 1

- HOLY FUCK EPISODE SEVEN

- did NOT see that reveal coming

- The ends of eps 4 and 7 are fucking amazing

- NANCY!!! Not sure how she’ll fare, not looking good obvs, (and I did originally think she’d die, but I hope not ofc) but I love the callback to the pool and Barb

- This is Dustin’s season lol

- Joyce Hop and Murray better fucking get out of that prison- their reunion was heartbreaking, but I also was like RUN don’t do another bob

- About Vecna/001/Creel son… so his powers/the killings weren’t related to the upside down until El imprisoned him there… so the upside down existed already but El opened the gate to put 001 through and that was the beginning of the contact with our world?… also how did Brenner try to replicate 001? Heard some disturbing theories about sperm donation but that’s super fucked up so I’m not sure how but I hope they explain? Also how did he get his powers in the first place? Finally what amazing casting

- Never thought I’d be rooting for Steve and Nancy lol but I guess maturity happens

- Erica is the fucking best

- The 001 reveal was fantastic. Jaw on the floor.

- Why does 001 care for 011 more than the others? Seen theories that she’s his kid but???

- Relationship between 001 and the mind flayer?

- MAX omg that scene was AMAZING on all levels and her ACTING

- Also why was Brenner using 001 as a guard?? Doesn’t make sense?

- Cool how they synced Nancy and El understanding 001’s story

- I only want good things for Hopper

- Also Murray’s karate is 10/10. Comic gold

- I’m a bit done with the torture. I like my characters problems to be fictional thanks.

- Look forward to seeing the CA gang appear again

- Also Joyce and Murray have no fucking idea what’s going on… and like Joyce just leaves her kids?

- Okay El needs nice things and WHAT THE FUCK OWENS WORKING WITH BRENNER REALLY?!! El didn’t need that. She needs so much love and friends and therapy and trauma informed everything bc OMG.

- Not a fan of Archie and the jock vigilantes

- Rude to prey on people with trauma. Guess Vecna is just a psychopath?

- AHHHHHH

- again how did the kids get their powers and how did they take it from 001 and how did 001 get it in the first place?

- Nice that 001 and the mind flayer got along so well

- Also can will get some fucking character development? Please? Like I know he has a crush on mike but more than that pls because it’s been since s2 that he had a true arc (except that great acting scene in s3)

- Suzie is everyone’s Queen. Bow before her

- Eddie and argyle are great new characters

- El needs so much love

- You can’t let anything happen to Hop or Joyce or Murray

- Wait also I forgot about the time travel thing

- WAIT A SECOND the painting Will’s painting it’s got to be of Mike because he LOVES HIM

VOL 2

- ALDHRKWHDLDHAKDHSJSJHSJAJAH

- My BABY EDDIE NOOOOO

- MAX?!?!?!!! No MAX !!!!!! Like I assume they would’ve just killed her if she wasn’t going to come back, but she seems brain dead and the duffers said she was? So? I hope they do bring her back bc it would’ve made sense to fully kill her if she wasn’t? Also El has fucking Lazarus powers too?! Damn girl

- My BABY GAY WILL you need a HUG and I’m so glad you got one but you also need to talk about shit and just say it out loud

- Good job Jonathan you aren’t completely useless

- WHAT A FUCKING ENDING

- EL AND HOP MY HEART

- DAMN that was a good ending- saw it coming but they did it really well

- And they really did seem like they’d just kill off everyone for a minute

- Murray, Yuri, and Antonov?? My bois? Where they at?

- Still gotta resolve Owens

- Also the fucking Russian and US governments are looking for them wtf

- Not looking good

- BUT AT LEAST THEYRE TOGETHER

- love the Hawkins at the center of it all

- FOUR GATES HOLY FUCK

- the vecna el max scene holy SHIT

- also did we not finish the Jason plot line?! Wtf happened after that? Somebody gotta keep this man in line bc he went full murder there (edit apparently he did die whoops I was distracted)

- And poor Lucas!! My baby is gonna have so much trauma!!

- And Dustin… sweet little confident dude gonna be so sad

- Fucking will ending the season touching the back of his neck I CAN FEEL HIM of course you fucking can will

- The LINE

- Hop and Joyce!!! Finally!!!

- Also like please let Karen be an actual character with agency she’s been here for four seasons on the sidelines but like please… my dude…. Please write her some character development… and fuck Ted

- The fucking love triangle with Nancy isn’t resolved

- We love Steve (in general)

- Robin and band girl seem nice…. Like a z plot but at least she might get a nice thing? Would be nice if we knew more about band girl

- Want to know if Henry/vecna is El’s father? More about that connection? Also how he got his powers to begin with? Is the upside down just an accidental bump into our universe bc El or is it related to the powers? Would it have kept going?

- Also fucking Odyssey with Henry

- the FUCKING METAL CONCERT WITH THE DEMOBATS THAT WAS THE BEST SHIT EVER

- and hop with the sword?!

- The soviets rlly did just go this seems like a good idea let’s BREED FUCKING DEMOGORGONS fuckers

- Glad they’re out of the ussr

- That ending shot wow

- I CRIED with Dustin and mr munson omg that was so fucking sad

- Also where was max’s mom in the hospital??

- Max omg baby needs nice things

- Aghhhhh

- The CAPTIONS

[quinnick]

I am rewatching S4 and I am on ep4, Dear Billy and I realize now how significant letters are. El and Mikes letters back and forth are brought up multiple times. We see Mike reading from El’s letter in the beginning. Lucas and the others getting letters from Max. 

I find it interesting also how different characters treat the letters they receive. Mike is seen tossing away multiple letters only holding on the the last one from El for maybe an hour or two before Will tells him it doesn’t matter. But we can see that El has kept nearly every letter Mike has sent her even with the dreaded “From” where as the one letter that says “From el” we see Mike throw it in the trash. That word meant something to El. It meant finality. Mike still continues to view his actions as fixable but is throwing away there very issue El brought up. We don’t even see Mike acknowledge that he was in any way in the wrong. That El had any point. 

Contrasting this to Lucas who when he gets his letter from Max, her finale goodbye, he holds on to it. He doesn’t even want it. In Ep4: Dear Billy, we see him tell Max that he doesn’t want a letter. That he wants Max to be vulnerable. Which we know El lied in her letters (not cool but understandable. El was going through a lot) but she manages to be emotionally vulnerable outside of her letters. Just like Max also learns to kind of do. But while Lucas is understanding the whole way (even when he kept getting hurt over and over again. He just didn’t want to leave Max. He knew she was hurting), Mike was not understanding. Which, yeah, it sucks to be lied to and both of them have apologizing to do but this is just about comparison.

I just find it interesting how letters play into this and are used in the show. 

[thornedrose44]

supercorp prompt: kara gravely injured, lena at her bedside waiting for her to recover, leading to soft confessions

“It was always you. Always. Even when… even when I burnt everything to the ground. Even when I stood and cried in the ashes, wishing to burn it all down again. It was you.” Lena inhaled shakily, lifting Kara’s limp hand to her lips and placing the softest of kisses to the cool skin that used to radiate ridiculous warmth.

“I felt it from the moment you walked into my office, trying to shift back into Clark’s… Superman’s shadow. But you were never meant for anyone’s shadow. Never meant for darkness and hidden away places. You shine. Did you know that? That was my first thought when I saw you. That you were brighter than the sun. That you glowed.

“My heart skipped a beat when I saw those… baby blues of yours. Later on… when I knew… I always wondered if you heard it. Did you think it was just nerves? A flicker of a lie? It was you. I felt so seen in your gaze. I always feel seen in your gaze. And the thought that I might never… that I may one day have to go without that… without you.”

Her voice cracked, splintering like her heart had when Supergirl fell to the ground and didn’t get back up again.

“It’s tearing me apart. I don’t know what kryptonite feels like and I know you would never want me to know but I wonder if it feels like this. Draining, destructive… I feel so helpless, nauseous whenever I consider-“ Lena cut off, she wouldn’t say the word, not even hint at it, not with Kara still recovering from the precipice her life had dangled on. She wouldn’t risk it, wouldn’t entice the reaper to turn his empty sockets to their sanctuary. “I feel like… someone cut my heart out of my chest and left the wound open and raw. Rubbed salt into it and keeps cutting back in whenever it considers healing. It will heal. It is healing… with every continued breath you take, every beat of your heart… it’s healing as you heal. Intrinsically linked.” Lena chuckled hollowly to herself as she defined their melded hurts. “Quantum entanglement.

“You hurt l, I hurt. I get it now…” Lena revealed softly, eyes focusing on the rhythmic way Kara’s chest rose and fell with the ebb and flow of life. “Why you didn’t tell me… you knew it would hurt, truly, deeply hurt. The sheer enormity of it would create a negative feedback loop between us so overwhelming that… all that would be left is ashes…” Lena wiped an inconspicuous tear that had managed to escape off her own cheek. “I hurt which hurts you which hurts me and on and on and on it goes.

“It was you even when there were others. It was you when I was scared, it was you when I was happy, angry, jealous, irritated, delighted, wistful, amused… everything. It was always you. I just want you to know that. Everything I have is yours. Everything I am is yours. I know that-“

Lena bit her lip, teeth digging into the soft skin, ripping into it and staining everything with the smallest drop of crimson.

“I know that it’s not the same for you. That I’m your best friend and that… that’s all you’ll ever see me as and I’m okay with that. Genuinely because that… that position is still sacred, a blessing from the heavens. I get to bask in that… radiant glow of yours and it means everything to me. But you should know - though I will never be brave enough to say these words to you in person - that it's you. For me: it’s you.

“My port in the storm. My lantern in the night. My best friend. My love. My true love. It’s you. It’s always been you and always will be you. I love you, Kara Zor-El.”

And with that, Lena leaned forward out of her chair - still cradling Kara’s hand - and pressed her lips to the uncreased forehead.

“Lena?”

Lena didn’t jump or jerk away at the sound of Alex’s soft voice from the doorway. The redhead knew, had seen the way Lena would blossom under Kara’s light - this little tableau the youngest Luthor had created wouldn’t have taken any of the Superfriends by surprise. They were kind enough - or discreet enough - never to mention it. It was Lena’s secret.

They had carried Supergirl for Kara.

They would carry this for Lena.

Lena stepped back, carefully settling Kara’s hand by her side and tucking the blankets tenderly around her form before turning to face the older Danvers with a raised eyebrow. Alex wouldn’t interrupt unless it was important, wouldn’t even consider pulling her away from Kara unless lives were in the balance or she could assure the task was quick - Kara’s hand not losing all contact heat in the time it took for Lena to complete the task and return to her side.

“Brainy needs your help. Just a quick review of the neutraliser design to make sure it works, he doesn’t want to send us in without being certain it will do the job.”

The ‘after the alien took down Supergirl’ goes unsaid.

“Right, of course.” Lena nodded, making her way to the door, head bowed only to be stopped by a light touch to her wrist.

“Lena.” Alex murmured; it was the gentleness of her tone that made Lena stop, it was a gentleness Alex only ever gifted to Kara, Kelly and Esme. “You should tell her.”

Lena pursed her lips at that, already shaking her head without the need for clarification.

“I appreciate the advice, but I can only stand to lose your sister so much.” Lena confessed. “I’ve already gone without once and I’m not brave enough to risk going through that again.”

“But-“

“I’ve made my choice.” Lena asserted, voice firm yet kind.

“And what about her? What if it’s you for her too?” Alex questioned, brown eyes only showing the smallest slither of regret for eavesdropping.

Lena didn’t have it in her to reprimand for the trespass, Alex’s understanding of boundaries always got murky when it came to her sister - and considering everything the family had suffered, Lena could understand where that moral greyness originated from.

“I highly doubt that.” Lena replied, unable to hide how her shoulders dipped with loss at the prospect.

“But what if?” Alex pressed, hand squeezing Lena’s wrist tighter - not restricting, just reassurance of something solid and tangible to make this real and grounded.

“Then you should do everything in your power to change her mind.” Lena said bluntly. “She can do better. She deserves better.”

“No, Lena-“ Alex spluttered, jaw dropping open as the raven haired woman tugged her hand free and marched out of the room.

“Keep an eye on Kara for me until I return.” Lena ordered, not daring to turn back.

[dinitride-art]

okay but why did mike come off an airplane (an indoor space) into the AIRPORT (an indoor space) with sunglasses on (INDOORS) unless it was to hide his face when seeing his girlfriend (and his Will) for the first time in months

Ooh!!! Thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about the sunglasses. (Also I know we both know what’s happening in the airport scene, anon, but I’m going to go far to in depth, anyways :)

So, Mike’s sunglasses.

We see them first paired with his new outfit that contrasts what we’ve seen him in this season. The hellfire outfit and this one are very different and we’re meant to notice that. Argyle says, “it’s a shitty knockoff” to indicate to us that Mike is being dishonest in his appearance. And in the rest of his character.

He wears them when kissing El, showing us he’s hiding something. Sunglasses are commonly used for “shady” (lol) characters. Like spies and other untrustworthy or mysterious characters that we know are hiding things. In Men In Black, a main part of their design is sunglasses. They’re whole thing is that they’re hiding the fact that aliens exist and they tie the sunglasses into the plot nicely by needing then to shield their eyes from the memory wiping device. Also sunglasses are commonly found in portraying a disguise, also with a hat and clothing that you’ve never seen this character in before. It’s a classic.

Mike’s outfit is a disguise and we know that. It’s explained in the way he acts towards Will and El and how his demeanour here contrasts what we saw in the previous episode. We know somethings up because we’re being told that Mike is hiding something, even if not explicitly stated. (But it’s building it up to be explicitly stated, since Mike is never really explained to us)

But back to the sunglasses. They’re a part of the disguise established in the airport scene. They come back in the piggyback because it’s foreshadowing Mike putting the disguise back on. It is interesting that he hands them to El, and that they’re made out of a pizza box.

El knows that Mike is lying to her. We don’t know if she knows exactly why yet, but we know that she knows something. She and Argyle-

(wise fool; seemingly says nonsense and doesn’t seem to be entirely relevant to the plot, but is actually just a character that the forth wall can be broken through to talk to the audience. In King Lear, the Fool is a character that can be analyzed to death. Because everything he says means something to us- not to the characters in the story- but to us. So we can try and understand what Shakespeare is trying to say better. There’s more to that but it’s a whole essay I don’t have time for)

- have an understanding. That means that what Argyle knows- because he knows quite a lot about everything- El is starting to know too.

This is important because the symbolism of the pizza is connected to Argyle. It’s used when Argyle and El try and convince Mike to, “try before you deny” (and is connected to Will and Jonathan’s scene- but I already analyzed this so I’m not going to make this post any longer than I already have- this is why I have to do shot by shot analyses in chronological order, because I need to be contained.)

Mike is using the sunglasses as a disguise again. But we know that El knows it’s a disguise this time because of the pizza box.

The sunglasses-

*slides sunglasses over my own eyes to show I’m a cool mysterious character*

Are a metaphor.

[godly-tomatoe]

hii could i request elliott from stardew valley x reader (gender neutral or male reader if you could pls..), maybe the trope angst to comfort would be cool.. it could end with smut too heh

anyway hope u have a great day or night

Hello! Thank you so much for your request, I’ll try my best!! I'm going to make this a sort of a non-binary transitioning angst type thing.

It was hard coming out to the citizens of Stardew Valley. Of course most of the people were super understanding but others... not so much. Honestly you couldn't care less about most of the Stardew citizens opinions of you, but the one reaction that hurt you most was of your best friend Elliott. When you had finally gotten the courage to come out to Elliott as non binary he didn't really respond and just.. sat there. You felt confused and ashamed, but out of everyone in Stardew Valley you thought Elliott would be the one who would accept you the most! So when you asked him “I mean... what do you think? Are you okay” and he just ended up turning around and walking away, you were more than surprised. Three years of friendship with him, and he does this? Maybe he was just confused. You decided to rub it off and try to talk to him tomorrow. 

Tomorrow came but you absolutely couldn't find Elliott anywhere. You started to ask around if anyone had saw him but to no avail. You finally went to your other friend Leah who was rather very accepting of your identity. When you knocked on her door her face almost immediately popped out, looking very suspicious. She looked shocked to see you and immediately said “OH! Hey y/n!! What're you doing here?????” she forcibly smiles. 

You reply “Uh- I was wondering if you've seen Elliott around? Yesterday I talked to him about me being non-binary and he just kind of.. ran off.”

She gives you a weird look but says “Wow! Uh that really doesn’t sound like him, but I actually haven’t seen him today. Sorry!” she then quickly shuts her door. You stand there confused, but know better than to walk away and give up.

“Dude stop being weird, I know he's in there.” you hear incoherent chatting and recognize Elliotts voice. “Come on El, I just want to talk.”  you call out, hoping he’ll listen. A couple minutes more of whispered from the two and you hear footsteps coming towards the door. The door opens and you look up to meet Elliotts eyes glaring down at you. 

“What.” That was all he said. You literally could feel your heart drop and your throat immediately went dry. Was he actually that mad at you??

You say, “Uhm, hi. Why did you walk out on me yesterday?” he sighs and relaxes his shoulders looking away from you.

“I just don't think you're right about this. You've never acted this way before, I just don't think this is you.” 

You literally didn't know what to say, but you mustered up all your confidence and told him. “How would YOU know the real me? It’s not like I'm a completely different person? How does this even affect you anyway?” you can tell that he started to get angry, huffing before raising his voice.

“You were one of my best friends how would I not know the real you?! You’ve ALWAYS been a (girl/boy)! there's no changing that. I don't know what you are thinking but It doesn’t make sense.” he sighs looking at you in the eyes. But before you can react you both hear Leahs voice.

“Elliott are you serious? how could you ever say something like that? Why should you be the one to decide how they identify. You are making this more of a big deal than it ever had to be.” she walks up and looks at him angrily.

“I- why aren't you defending me? You can not actually be agreeing with (him/her)?” he says looking at her confused.

And that was your breaking point, your anger had turned into tears and you ran off to the safety of your farm. Despite hearing Leahs calls for you, you ran until you got to your soft bed and immediately passed out. 

For the next couple of months all you focused on was farming and caring for your animals. You couldn't waste your time on thinking about Elliott, but no matter how hard you tried he was all you ever thought about. The way he would ditch your friendship that fast made you feel worthless, like absolutely nothing. You were absolutely dreading the upcoming flower dance, you couldn't stand to look Elliott in the face but you would go just to make him think that he isn't getting to you.

As the day of the flower dance came you dressed the most gender neutral you could, you wanted this to be the first event that you went out as comfortable as you wanted to be. When you got there everyone was commenting on how amazing you looked and how happy you must be now. If only they new lol. As you expected you saw Elliott and Leah by the outskirts of the dance, but you accidentally locked eyes with him. You could barely break eye contact he was staring so intensely, but it didn't seem angry. It almost felt sad. You had hoped Leah had talked to him and helped him understand, but you couldn't go back to him, right?

As the party continued on Elliott haunted your brain, you never got a chance to stop thinking about him. No matter what he said about you, you would always love him. Around the end of the dance you were sitting on a picnic table near the water, distancing yourself from the others. But than you heard footsteps, and than someone sitting down next to you. As you expected it was Elliott. there was a lot of silence between the two of you before he said. “I was wrong.”

You chuckled and said rather calmly “Yeah, no shit.” he sighed and you felt his eyes on you.

“I miss you. I want to apologize.” you looked over to him, and you noticed the longing look in his eyes. 

“Why should I forgive you. After everything you said. You were more than willing to throw away our friendship because of who I am.” you kept the eye contact, keeping it very stern. No matter how much you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't let that betrayal happen again.

“You don't know how regretful I am. My words were full of hate, because of something that isn't my choice. I realize now, how hard it was for you to hide your identity for so long. I was supposed to comfort you, be your friend, understand you. but my selfishness got in the way. I don't know why I would let your happiness EVER come between our friendship. Y/n, I’ve always loved you. Your identity never came in between that. I felt confused and hurt but now I know those feelings aren't true. I love you for who you are, and now I realize your identity shouldn't get in the way of that.”

You were stunned, he loved you. But you were still confused on why he was so hurt by your decision. You didn't want to believe him, but it felt so honest, it felt real. the last couple of months were hell without him, you couldn't do it again. So you forgive him.

“Okay Elliott, I believe you. Ive always loved you, y’know?”

He looks at you with sparkles in his eyes. He smiles and asks “can I kiss you?” and you reply by gently gripping his face and connecting your lips with his. It felt like fireworks, no matter how many times you thought about kissing him it never would be as good as the reality. Your lips fell into each other perfectly like puzzle pieces. You break the kiss and look into his eyes and he embraces you in a hug full of comfort and love.

Thank you so much for reading!! hopefully you liked it and please give me constructive criticism if needed. Have a great day lovelies!

(if you like for me too continue this with a smut scene let me know if you like it so far and I will happily oblige)

[winterrose527]

Jon and Robb trying to get a drunk Sansa and Myrcella home

K I didn't write this today, but wrote it like years ago and never posted it I don't think? Maybe I did, but nevertheless, enjoy!

***

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Jon said for the seventeenth time since they’d gotten into the taxi. “What did she say exactly?”

Robb sighed and tried to recount the conversation. It was a little tricky to follow what Sansa was saying, she’d definitely had too much to drink.

“She said that they got in a fight and that Ella left her,” Robb told him.

“But they don’t fight,” Jon argued vehemently.

Seriously, it was as though someone had told him that the earth, after all this time, was indeed flat. Like somebody told him the sky was actually red. He said it like he needed a damn Vicodin due the prospect of Sansa Stark and Myrcella Baratheon arguing.

In Jon’s defense, it did seem a little strange. The two had been inseparable since boarding school, and to Robb’s knowledge had never actually had an argument. There was that one incident on Ella’s last birthday when they both got really drunk and started arguing about who loved the other more - it got really emotional, a few other people started crying as well. Not him, of course, it was just really smoky in there.

The point was that it really didn’t make any sense. Even if Sansa and Ella did have their first fight as the most iconic non-couple-couple, Ella would never leave Sansa at a bar. Especially when she’d been drinking. But on the off chance something calamitous had actually happened, he wasn’t going to not go.

And if something calamitous hadn’t happened, he and Jon were happy for the excuse to seek them out.

The taxi pulled up in front of the pub Sansa had called from. The girls loved this place because they deemed the bartender swoon worthy and he obviously loved them because he always gave them free drinks.

They walked in and immediately started scanning the bar for his sister and Ella. The place was packed, but Robb just looked for where Daario was stationed and sure enough he saw Sansa’s auburn hair.

He tapped Jon on the chest and pointed and they made their way through. Sansa was facing away from them so he called to her. It really was too loud in here though and she looked like she was hanging on whatever it was that Daario was saying.

When he finally got to her, he was, well, not all that surprised to see Ella Baratheon sitting on the barstool next to her.

“Robb?,” she asked in that moneyed voice of hers.

Her cheeks were a little flushed but that could just be the alcohol. She was wearing a black and gold dress that was fitted through the waist and then flared out, her slender legs covered in black tights. Her hair was up and it revealed that little freckle on her swanlike neck and - fuck.

“Hey El,” he cleared his throat, “Sansa what the hell?”

“You’re a poet and you didn’t even know it but I doooooo,” Sansa giggled. “Quick make something up about Ella’s eyes.”

“Huh?,” he wondered.

“Just a little ditty,” Sansa promised, as though it was nothing really, “Come now, Robbert don’t be stingy with your gifts. I really think that you should - oh hello Jon.”

“H-hey Sansa…,” Jon breathed out.

For fuck’s sake. He was going to need a drink to get through this. He gestured to the bartender who ignored him.

Ella bit her lip to hide her smile, “Hey Daario?”

“Yeah darlin’?,” Daario asked immediately, leaning his forearms on the bar.

“Could we please have two Wight Gold Labels neat whenever you get a chance?,” she asked.

Daario glared at him which Robb felt wasn’t entirely called for and nodded, “Sure thing. And how about another martini, on me?”

Ella blushed and nodded, “Thanks.”

Jon muttered something about that being a terrible business model and Robb fought the urge to grin.

“So,” Ella asked, “Why are you guys here? You hate this place.”

“Sansa,” Robb noted, “Care to field this one?”

Sansa looked over at him and furrowed her brow, “Robb? When did you get here?”

They all turned to look at her in horror. Oh no. He had only seen that vacant look in her eyes once, the night of her college graduation.

“Daario cancel those please!,” Ella called, sliding off her bar stool and she took Sansa’s face gently between her hands. “Sansa, sweetie, did you take some shots without me?”

“I would never!,” Sansa argued vehemently taking Ella’s cheeks in her own, “Where I drinketh you drinketh babygirl. I only had like two tequilas and then some green thing.”

“Did that green thing taste like licorice?,” Jon asked.

Sansa turned and all but fluttered her eyelashes at him, “You’re so smart. Did you know that?,” and then as though she realised she had Ella’s face still in her hands turned back to her and said, “You’re smarter though. And you’re so pretty. You’re the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world, I’m so lucky we’re friends.”

“Trust me, I’m the lucky one,” Ella told her sweetly, “But now we have to go.”

“But Robb and Jon just got here!,” Sansa protested, then turned to look at him with watery eyes, “You came for me.”

Absinthe always made Sansa particularly grateful for everyone in her life. As far as drunks went it was one of the cutest he’d ever seen. And as a devoted big brother, who had had a couple of drinks himself, he was a complete sucker for it.

“Of course I did,” he told her, “I’d always come for you, you know that.”

“Keep it together Robb,” Jon told him.

“What?,” Robb asked then nodded, his cheeks warming, “Right yeah no um… Sansa you called me and told me that you and Ella got in a fight and she left you.”

“I would never do that,” Ella argued.

“But you did! Remember?”

“N-Sansa that was not an argument! I just told you that I liked Mr. Bingley more than Mr. Darcy and then went outside to take a phone call…”

“You were gone for a really long time.”

Ella picked up her phone and showed them all the call. It was with her brother Gendry and it lasted for… 2 minutes and 45 seconds.

“Sansa,” he chuckled.

“Look Robb maybe you just don’t understand the importance that Pride & Prejudice has had for GENERATIONS of women,” she noted.

“Well considering you made me read it I think I do fully understand,” he argued.

“Yeah,” Jon piped up, who had also been bullied into it, “I mean… I’m with you though Sansa. Mr. Darcy all the way.”

“Really?,” Sansa asked excitedly.

Jon nodded, “But um, I’m really just a sucker for Elizabeth…”

Sansa blushed. Jon might not know it but Sansa had always identified with Elizabeth Bennett. Though from the way he was blushing too, maybe he did. Especially considering Jon was exactly as brooding and aloof as Mr. Darcy.

“Sansa,” Ella said gently, “I think we should go.”

Sansa looked back at her, “Okay Jane.”

Ella giggled, “Sansa!”

“But you’re the prettiest girl in the county!,” Sansa cooed at her. “Tell her - tell her she’s the prettiest girl in the whoooooole country.”

“I thought it was county,” Ella protested.

“Dream big, baby!,” Sansa said and Ella giggled. “Robb tell her.”

“Sansa,” he sighed.

“Useless,” Sansa rolled her eyes and then turned to Jon, “You tell her.”

Jon nodded, “Top Two at least, in the whole world.”

“Top Two?,” Sansa raged, “Top TWO!? Take it back.”

“No,” Jon said.

Sansa took Ella’s chin in her hand and tugged it forward, not exactly gently, “Look at her.”

“Ow.”

“She’s the prettiest girl in the world, okay Dovey?,” he asked, both to appease Sansa and because he’d never get another organic opportunity to say it.

Sansa nodded brightly and Ella took the opportunity to ease her off of her bar stool. Unfortunately Sansa was in heels and landed on them wrong and fell directly into the arms of Jon Snow.

“Woooah, there,” Jon said softly, his arm wrapping around Sansa’s waist.

He chuckled lightly at her and brushed some hair out of her face.

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Sansa said sadly.

“You just had a bit too much fun, that’s all. Nothing to apologise for. Did you have a coat?”

“Here you go,” Ella said, handing it to him.

Jon wrapped her coat around her shoulders and Sansa pushed her arms through the sleeves.

“Can you walk?,” he asked her, his hands on her waist keeping her upright.

“If I say yes will you still hold onto me?,” Sansa asked flirtatiously, her hands on his shoulders.

Robb grimaced and looked away. He was alright with it, the two of them, but he wasn’t sure he needed to see it. He looked over at Ella who was pulling on her own coat trying to hide her grin.

“Course I will,” Jon said gruffly and started leading her out.

“You have everything?,” he asked Ella.

She nodded and he gestured for her to walk in front of him. It was a mistake. With Jon leading Sansa out everyone gave them a wide berth, but the bar was crowded and guys kept getting in Ella’s way to hit on her.

Finally he sighed and placed his hand on the small of her back, “Hope you don’t mind, but at this rate it could take hours getting out of here. Prettiest girl in the county and all.”

She looked up at him and chuckled, “I don’t mind.”

Her eyes smiled into his and he felt that warm molasses spread through his veins like he always did when she was nearby.

Sansa had it right when he called her Jane Bennet. On top of being beautiful and blonde, Ella was sweet, the sweetest person he’d ever met, and charming and loyal.

He’d always had a crush on Jane Bennett.

They stepped out into the cool fall air.

“We’ll never get a taxi here,” Ella said, “We should walk around to the Kingsroad.”

“Alright then,” Jon said and swooped Sansa up into his arms.

She giggled and cooed, “Jon Snowwwww what are you doing??”

“There’s no way you were making it to the Kingsroad.”

Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his shoulder, “Once more ‘round the park, Chauncy.”

Ella giggled and started leading the way so he fell into step beside her.

“Sorry we ruined your night,” she sighed, “I had no idea Sansa would call you. If you guys just put us in a taxi I’ll get her home and into bed.”

The girls shared a flat in the same cozy little hamlet across town where he and Jon lived. His father had only approved of it due to the proximity to his and Jon’s places, it was dead in between them, three blocks on either side.

“You could never ruin my night, you know that,” he said. At least… he hoped she knew that. “Don’t you?”

She looked up at him and he didn’t think he imagined her blush. But she playfully nudged her arm against his and said, “I know you’re too kind to tell me if we had.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes more. Jon had passed them, and Sansa was stroking his hair as he carried her up to the main street. He couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but he heard their quiet tones and hushed laughter, like everything between them was a wonderful secret.

“So Mr. Bingley, huh?,” he asked Ella.

“Does that surprise you?,” she wondered, “I’m not one much for broods. Except Jon.”

“No it’s just that… he reminds me of Grey Wind,” Robb shrugged, “He’s a dopey labrador.”

“Take that back,” Ella chided, “Grey Wind is not dopey.”

Robb chuckled and nodded in apology.

“And neither is Charles,” Ella went on.

“Charles?,” he teased, “You’re on a first name basis now?”

She giggled his favorite giggle. The surprised one, as though the laughter couldn’t help bubble out of her before she’d allowed it to.

“Oh things are very serious between us,” she joked, “But really I guess I’m just a fool for a fool in lo—ohhoww.”

Out of nowhere Ella had stumbled, and he was nearly bent over completely as he narrowly caught her from smacking onto the road.

“By the gods,” he said, pulling her back up, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Ella nodded and then her face fell, “No.”

He didn’t dare let go, and in truth he had no desire to. “Did you have too much absinthe too?,” he teased, trying to get her to smile.

She shook her head, “No it’s just these damn heels Sansa made me wear.”

He looked down and was surprised she hadn’t fallen earlier. The heels were as slim as needles, which was really sexy but definitely not appropriate for the cobblestone they found themselves on.

“Do you think you sprained it?,” he asked in concern.

“No I don’t think so,” she said holding onto him and trying to put her weight on it, “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Think, hmm?,” he asked, because he still hadn’t gotten her smile. He scooped her up into his arms, “Not good enough.”

She let out a giggle now, “Robb!”

“Those heels are more of a weapon than they are actual footwear,” he reasoned, trying not to think about how good she felt.

“I’m too heavy,” she said stupidly.

“Ha! You’re cute,” he guffawed as he started walking. She really did feel weightless in his arms, the warmth she was transferring to his body was the only confirmation that she was actually there. “I could carry you all the way back to your apartment.”

“You’re good at it, you know,” she told him.

“At what?,” he wondered. It didn’t take a particular set of skills to hold her and walk.

“The whole Knight in Shining Armour thing,” she explained. “It suits you, always has.”

“Well you’re welcome to my services anytime,” he told her then added, “Though you’ve never struck me as the kind of girl that needed saving.”

“Really?,” she grinned, “That’s so sweet. And present reality excluded, I’m not. It’s nice to know though, that if I ever did that well, that maybe -“

“Not maybe,” he told her in a serious tone. Holding her was so intimate, that he immediately understood the soft way Jon and Sansa were speaking. It felt like they were in their own little bubble, and for whatever reason it demanded honesty. “You have to know that.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders, propping herself up and she nodded. She let her forehead fall against his temple, “I do. Promise.”

He tightened his grip on her and fought the urge to nuzzle against her. Her arms went around his neck though and she laid her cheek on his shoulder.

“How’s that ankle?,” he asked her.

“Hmm?,” she asked dreamily, and then giggled, “Oh, oh it’s fine. You can put me down if you want.”

“We shouldn’t risk it,” he said stupidly and he could swear he felt her smile against him.

She wrapped her arms around him tighter and he felt her cold nose against his neck. He rubbed her arm because the coat she was wearing wasn’t nearly warm enough for the evening.

All of a sudden she started giggling, it tickled his neck.

“What’s so funny?,” he wondered.

“Does your mom still do your laundry?,” she asked.

He blushed and argued, “No! No of course not.”

Which was the truth. Except when he went home to Winterfell. But it wasn’t like he asked her to.

“Why do you ask?,” he wondered.

“You smell like the laundry detergent she uses,” she explained.

“Oh! Sorry,” he said.

She lifted her head off of him and smiled, “Don’t be sorry. You smell nice. Like home.”

Her eyes went wide like she couldn’t quite believe she had said that, and he certainly couldn’t believe that she’d said it either.

He didn’t know what to say. A thousand different possibilities raced through his mind. He could tell her that he liked the way she smelled too. Or that he loved that she associated Winterfell with home. He could tell her he wanted to make love to her on a pile of clean laundry. All of it would have been true, but he didn’t say any of it.

Instead he just stared at her, and she stared back.

The air got really thick around them and the edges of his vision took on a kind of shimmery quality and her green eyes were locked on his, her soft pink lips parted in an o of surprise.

He started leaning closer and he was pretty sure that she did too.

“Robby we got a taxi!,” Sansa called delightedly and he and Ella sprung apart as far as they were able considering that he was still holding her.

“We should um go,” he said.

“Yeah…we should,” Ella agreed. Then prompted, “But only one of us can walk right now so…”

“Oh! Oh right,” he nodded and started speed walking over to the taxi.

He deposited her into the backseat next to Sansa and then followed her in.

“Where to?,” the driver asked.

“Winterfell!,” Sansa cried.

“Dovey no,” Robb argued, “It’s the middle of the night and it’s a half hour outside the city…”

“Come on, Robb, they’ll be so happy to see us! Dad will make us pancakes in the morning and we can spend the rest of the weekend out there with the kids,” Sansa pleaded.

Jon turned around from the front seat, “It does sound kind of nice…,” though he was pretty sure Jon would have agreed to anything Sansa wanted in that moment, “And Rickon wanted us to look over that history essay anyway.”

He looked at Ella who very pointedly did not look at him, a small smile threatening her lips.

“Alright,” he sighed, “Let’s go home.”

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Lena jumped and reached for the taser hidden under her desk as a red and blue blur came crashing through her balcony window, landing in the middle of her office in a pile of concrete and rucked up carpet.

She released her death grip on the taser and breathed out in relief at the realisation that this was not another surprise visit from one of her brother’s minions but rather National City’s resident superhero dropping in. (Literally).

This wasn’t quite how she imagined their first meeting but then when did her life ever go as expected.

Supergirl lay in the rubble, unmoving. Apart from her apparent lack of consciousness, she looked unharmed. Had Lena not just witnessed her crash through her very expensive wall, she might have thought the hero was simply taking a mid-fight power nap.

She gingerly stepped across the ditch that Supergirl’s landing had created in her floor and crouched down to assess the Super.

“Supergirl?” She briefly contemplated poking her to see if she responded but decided against it just in case it was taken as another Luthor attack.

Supergirl gasped and shot upright, almost giving Lena a heart attack in the process. She looked around in confusion for a moment before her eyes landed on Lena who had a hand clutched to her chest and was trying desperately not to curse like a sailor in front of National City’s golden girl.

Supergirl cleared her throat, standing and brushing building dust off herself. “Sorry about…” she gestured vaguely to the gaping hole now in the side of Lena’s office, “that. I’ll just…” She nodded towards the balcony and awkwardly went over to it, needlessly opening the door which now had no glass and half the frame missing.

Lena watched her stand tall, heroically raising her fists to the sky as she pushed off the ground and jumped less than two feet into the air. She stumbled and smacked into the balcony railing with an “oof”, doubling over and almost falling over the other side.

“Supergirl?!” Lena’s eyes widened and she rushed towards her as Supergirl slid to the floor with a groan.

The hero flopped over onto her back and lay on the balcony. “I think… I think I’m just going to lie here for a bit if that’s okay.”

She reached up and tapped at her ear a few times before removing what was presumably a communications device with a sigh and throwing it across the balcony.

“Sorry. I’ll clear that up in a bit.” She rolled her head to the side and looked through the balcony windows to the mess that had been Lena’s office. “...And that.” She looked up at Lena with a sheepish smile. “I don’t suppose you have a phone I could borrow?”

———

A few minutes later, Supergirl was sitting on Lena’s thankfully still intact couch, staring down at the dial numbers on Lena’s phone.

“You don’t know the number do you.” Lena had to stop herself from laughing at the way Supergirl threw her hands up with a grumpy pout, adorable crinkle between her eyebrows.

“Who remembers phone numbers anymore?!” She sighed and flopped back into the couch cushions, handing Lena her phone back with a halfhearted smile in thanks.

Lena got up and crossed her office, carefully stepping across the gulf in the middle and sitting down at her desk. “Well if you can give me a name, I may be able to find a number?”

Kara bit her lip, considering. She muttered something under her breath about being murdered and moved across the room to sit in the chair that still had all four legs on the other side of Lena’s desk. “Alex Danvers.”

Lena nodded and got to work hacking a few National City servers.

Supergirl shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “You’re not um… this isn’t illegal, right?”

Lena glanced away from her screen to the hero for a moment and raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

———

It didn’t take long to find a number. Supergirl fidgeted in her seat the entire time and only stopped when Lena handed her phone back over and turned her screen around to show her the phone number of one Alex Danvers.

Supergirl lit up immediately and dialed the number.

Lena tried not to listen, she really did, but it was hard when Supergirl hadn’t even moved from the seat opposite her.

“Hey Alex, it’s K- …Supergirl.”

Lena bit her cheek to stop herself smiling and pulled up some work to pretend to do. She saw Supergirl grimace at whatever was being said out the corner of her eye.

“I know, I know. I’m fine - I just crashed into a building and solarflared. And my comms are broken. I may also need another phone. Can you get photos back from broken devices? Because I took a really cool picture of some birds earlier before I dropped my phone. …Those two things are totally unrelated.”

There was some faint complaining on the other end of the line and Lena discreetly pulled up the schematics for a prototype that could retrieve and restore data from practically any device.

“Um…” Supergirl not-so-subtly glanced towards Lena and angled herself slightly away. “Lena Luthor?”

Lena hoped this so-called solarflare affected all Supergirl’s powers or she would definitely have been able to hear the way Lena’s heart started thudding in her chest.

Supergirl’s crinkle returned and she loudly whispered down the phone in a way that made Lena understand why there were never any stories of Supergirl doing covert operations. “Alex! Will you stop it? She has been nothing but kind to me. If she wanted me dead, she would have tried it already - she knows I don’t have any of my powers right now.”

There was some more yelling on the phone.

“Well I think it would have been kinda hard to convince her I still had them after she saw me faceplant on her balcony.” There was silence for a moment and then Supergirl pouted at the sound of laughter. “Okay okay can you just come and get me now?”

———

It turned out that Alex could not in fact come and get Supergirl because whatever underground organisation she worked for (because it certainly wasn’t the def.B.I) were too busy chasing down the alien Supergirl had been fighting before she decided to visit Lena.

“I could get my driver to take you somewhere if you’d like?”

Supergirl shook her head. “Thanks but I wouldn’t be able to tell them the address. And Alex doesn’t like me wandering around without my powers.” She lifted her hand and almost poked herself in the eye before redirecting the movement to tuck a stand of hair behind her ear, a cute blush dusting her cheeks. “Would it be alright if I just stay here for a bit? I’ll be super quiet - you won’t even know I’m here.”

———

Despite all her abilities, super-quietness did not appear to be one of them.

Lena spent half an hour trying to continue working before she gave up, logging off her computer and turning to the Kryptonian currently hanging upside down on her couch and singing ABBA under her breath.

“I was just about to order some food. Would you like anything?”

Supergirl’s face lit up like an excited puppy and she fell off the couch in her eagerness to get up. She jumped to her feet, cape awkwardly twisted over her shoulder, and put her hands on her hips like nothing had happened. “Would I ever!”

Lena grinned and rounded her desk, picking up her phone to order. “What would you like?”

Apparently that was the wrong question to ask a Kryptonian because Lena spent the next half hour listening to Supergirl wax poetic about various fast foods before being coerced into ordering far too much food with absolutely no nutritional value and suffering through Jess’s alarmed and mildly concerned looks when said food arrived. She would certainly be recommending the company that soundproofed her office though if Jess still had no idea that there was a Super in there.

The coffee table was overflowing with Chinese takeout. Supergirl had skewered four potstickers on her chopsticks and ate them all in one go, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk, before Lena even sat down. She made a pleased hum and smiled at Lena like this was perfectly normal before impaling another four.

Lena smoothed out her skirt and delicately picked up her own food, using proper chopstick etiquette.

“So. Lena Luthor, huh?”

Lena raised an eyebrow. “Supergirl, huh?”

The Super considered her for a moment. “Kara Zor-El.” When Lena just frowned she added, “my name. Kara Zor-El.” At her continued look of shock and confusion, Kara shrugged and went back to eating like it was no big deal. “If you’re stuck with me for a bit and kind enough to feed me I figure you should at least get to call me something other than ‘Supergirl’.”

Lena rested her container of noodles on her knee and studied Kara. “Why do you trust me?”

Kara frowned. “Why would I not?”

“Because I’m a Luthor?”

Kara looked at her and for a terrifying moment Lena felt more seen than ever before. “Yes. You are. Lena Luthor. And as far as I know, Lena Luthor has done nothing to make me distrust her.”

Before Lena could even begin to form a response to that, Kara had picked up a new food container to start on and was telling her about a puppy she had seen earlier that week.

———

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true!” Kara turned to fully face her on the couch, flinging noodles around in her chopsticks as she talked. “It took me ages to learn to get the temperature just right - that’s the hardest bit really. Same with laservision - it took a lot of burnt popcorn before I could cook stuff with it. I use that all the time now though.”

Lena bit her lip to stop herself laughing at the image of Supergirl using her superpowers to make popcorn.

“Anyway - I swear I really did make it snow for Christmas one year. The weather reporters were so confused.”

Lena had to duck her head to hide the laugh trying to escape her. Kara was grinning dopily at her when she looked back up.

She raised an eyebrow. “I still don’t believe you.”

Kara’s jaw dropped and she made an affronted noise, dramatically standing, placing her food back on the coffee table, and putting her hands on her hips. She inhaled deeply and looked towards the ceiling, letting out a stream of freeze breath that drifted down in a flurry of snowflakes.

Lena laughed and stood, holding out her palms to catch some snow and watching it melt in her palms. Kara grinned smugly at the look of delight on Lena’s face.

It was at that moment that Jess walked through the door.

“Miss Luthor, there’s an Ale-” She cut herself off at the sight of her boss laughing with Supergirl in an office with a hole in the side of it, half the floor torn up, and more food than she had seen Lena eat in the past week piled up on the coffee table.

Lena cleared her throat, lowering her arms and putting back on her professional mask as though there weren’t snowflakes in her hair. “Yes Jess?”

Jess opened and closed her mouth a few times, eyes darting around the room, before she straightened up and looked back to Lena. “Alex Danvers is here. She says you’re expecting her?”

Lena nodded. “Yes. Thank you Jess. Please send her in.”

Jess left the room without another word and (presumably) Alex Danvers walked in. Her eyebrows rose as she took in the scene before her, eyes landing on a sheepish looking Supergirl.

Alex sighed and turned to Lena. “We’ll have a clean up crew with you as soon as possible, Miss Luthor.”

Lena shook her head, trying to bite back a smile as she saw Kara trying to nudge her carpet back over the dent in her floor with the toe of her boot. “No need, Ms Danvers. I’ve been wanting to renovate this office since I moved to National City anyway.”

Alex nodded and tried to subtly pull at Supergirl’s cape to get her to stop. She smiled politely. “We’ll leave you to your work then.”

She opened the office door and looked expectantly to Kara.

But before she left, Kara wrapped her ridiculously muscular arms around Lena and gave her a squeeze. It was like being hugged by a rock in a blanket and it was the best feeling Lena had ever experienced. Kara pulled back with a grin and a thank you before turning to Alex to follow her out.

It was only thanks to years of Luthor training that Lena managed to keep her composure. She definitely succeeded. She was sure of it. Alex’s smirk was entirely unrelated.

And if a woman who looked remarkably like Supergirl with glasses and a ponytail and was coincidentally also called Kara walked into her (newly redecorated) office behind Clark Kent a week later, who could blame her for making a few Supergirl jokes to make that cute blush appear. And for giving her her personal phone number. For future interviews, of course.

[maddogofshimano]

Bound in the Chains of Suspicion: Haruka and Hamazaki Board Game Event

Major Y3 and Y4 Spoilers

I was surprised to see these two on an event together! Haruka even gets to be the protagonist here

I was more surprised by how emotionally compromised I got about Hamazaki of all people. I mean, I’ve thought he was a cool character ever since Y4, but man! This is the most important part though: LOOK AT HER

I’ve been busy so self-care was writing things up in more of a summary form than doing line for line translations this time. Apologies for the likely higher number of errors than usual and less polish overall, I got this done with only a few hours to spare before the event ended

I do need to put a big honking Content Warning on this one for attempted sexual assault of a minor, in which a grown man twice demands to see Haruka’s panties and attempts to grab her when she refuses. I’m really not a fan of the writing choice to include this, but I’ve got it in here for completeness’s sake

Summary: Set during the time between Kiryu and Yasuko leaving Hamazaki in Okinawa and Haruka’s call to Kiryu the next day to tell Kiryu that Hamazaki had passed away in the hospital. Haruka grapples with whether or not Hamazaki is a bad person and if he’s trustworthy while attempting to save his life

<After the incident where Hamazaki drifted to Morning Glory from Okinawa Penitentiary No. 2.....> We're starting off with in-game events/dialogue, Hamazaki handing over the blackmail he took from jail and asking for Kiryu's help

Immediate flashback to earlier 3/9/2010, more in game events. The kids have just gotten back from a field trip to the woods. They had fun, and want Kiryu to come along next time. Kiryu tries to introduce Hamazaki, Haruka is not having any of it

She tells Kiryu to shut up and Hamazaki to stay the hell away from everyone. Hamazaki is hurt by this, but fully understands and agrees to keep his distance

Next we have the beach conversation with Kiryu where she asks if he’s going back to Tokyo and that she’s scared

Haruka's usually very polite but she keeps calling Hamazaki あの浜���って人 which is like, "that Hamazaki guy" lol

Haruka's been told by Ayako that "that Hamazaki guy" has left with Kiryu to go to the police station. She's wondering why that guy is now trying to convince Kiryu not to go to Tokyo....... isn't there going to be a big problem if Kiryu doesn't go? Did Hamazaki tell Kiryu not to go..... for Haruka's sake? There's no way, right? A bad person like him wouldn't do something like that..... She can't trust him,  but..... <Haruka flashes back to her yelling at Hamazaki and Hamazaki looking sad> She feels she might have been cruel to him

She thinks that Hamzaki just looked so so sad, so she tells Ayako she's going to head out for a bit and asks her to watch over things while she's gone. She thinks that she still can't trust Hamazaki but that maybe, it's possible he really has changed, and he's not such a bad guy anymore... but she can't be sure! So she's going to talk to him a little more

<Haruka was unable to believe that Hamazaki had changed when she first saw him, and said something cruel. She's still unsure on his change, and in order to discern it for herself has decided to talk to Hamazaki directly--following Hamazaki and Kiryu to the police station>

She shows the cop an photo of Kiryu and asks if he's come this way, as well as a big man with a shaved head and a scary face named Hamazaki. The officer says that they did, but went to help a lady look for her brother instead. He points Haruka in the direction they ran off in. She thanks him and wonders who this woman is, and remembers that Kiryu has a phone so she can just call him. Except she forgot her phone at morning glory...... thankfully there's a pay phone nearby, so she uses that instead. Kiryu isn't picking up though, which is worrying. She's sure Hamazaki must have done something!

She runs around the market with her picture of Kiryu asking people if they've seen him. A store owner says that yeah, he's seen that guy with the scary face, he was here not too long ago, and points her in the right direction. She follows the trail, talking to a homeless man, a younger guy, a tourist lady, and finally hitting a dead end and talking to a goon who says yeah, he's seen those three, but his memory's real fuzzy. Maybe he could remember if Haruka would show him her panties. Haruka is taken aback, he tries to grab her, and Haruka fights him off enough to escape. She hides nearby, and happens across someone bleeding on the ground. It's Hamazaki!

Hamazaki is bleeding badly, and collapses. Haruka thinks that she needs to call an ambulance, and fast, but she hears someone shouting in search of Hamazaki. She knows that if they come this way they'll be out in the open, so she starts dragging him despite him being heavy

the voice was of course coming from everyone's fave, Saito the Prison Warden

He knows that Hamazaki got shot in the torso, so he couldn't have gone far. Haruka wonders why Saito would try to kill Hamazaki. Unfortunately Saito decides that his subordinates are useless and that if he wants anything done he'll have to do it himself

He tells a homeless man that if they spot Hamazaki, Yasuko, and Kiryu he'll give them 100,000 yen, and the offer stands for any other homeless friends that help search. Haruka knows that she needs to get Hamazaki somewhere safe that they can hide, and fast. She thinks about it and remembers that right at the end of this alley there's an empty room that's never used that Taichi told her about. She manages to sneak herself and Hamazaki to the building without being spotted by the patrolling homeless men--but once in the building she finds that there's a homeless man inside. He tries to tell her to go play somewhere else but notices that she's dragging Hamazaki behind her, and starts shouting in hopes of getting the 100k. HARUKA ATTACKS THIS MAN. HARUKA OVERPOWERS THIS MAN. THIS MAN IS STRUGGLING TO GET AWAY AND HARUKA IS TELLING HIM HE CAN'T TELL ANYONE CAUSE THE PEOPLE LOOKING FOR HAMAZAKI NO OJISAN WILL KILL HIM

The man comments that Haruka's hands are shaking. He says he's been there too. When he worked as a day laborer, his hands would shake like that when he was desperately trying to haul heavy things. For the sake of helping an adult she's pushing her tiny body to it's limits... He agrees not to tell anyone, he's not going to be happy with any amount of money at the cost of someone's life. If any other homeless people come by, he's going to spread rumors that Hamazaki is far away from here, so that should help with Haruka's escape Haruka thinks again about calling an ambulance, worried that Hamazaki will bleed out, but still worried that they'll be found before it gets there. She also worries about why she hasn't seen Kiryu, and why Hamazaki was all alone at that building. The guy that shot Hamazaki seems like a cop and a bad person, but she had also thought Hamazaki was a bad person before... He did shoot Hamazaki, but Hamazaki also stabbed Kiryu...

Haruka wonders if maybe telling the cops where Hamazaki is would be the right thing to do. Maybe he's the real bad guy here. In response Hamazaki makes an eloquent argument compared to every previous line which had just been "Ughh gh ughh" and instead goes for "cough cough....!"

He's conscious enough to recognize Haruka as that kid who was at Kiryu's place. Haruka asks if Hamazaki is alright, and where is Kiryu? Is he okay? Hamazaki wheezes out that Kiryu's gone to a bad place, which is about the most ominous way to say things. Haruka panics internally, but unlike many other instances of miscommunication where Hamazaki would pass out right there, he says that Kiryu went with Saejima's sister to Tokyo. Haruka can't believe it. Hamazaki apologizes that he ended up separating Haruka from Kiryu after all.

Hamazaki also says that, despite everything, Kiryu's doing this to keep Haruka safe. Haruka wonders about that and Hamazaki collapses again. Haruka rushes off and calls an ambulance from the closest pay phone. She thinks that, if she trusts what Hamazaki is saying, then Kiryu has something important to do again. But is that really the case? She decides it'll be alright to trust Hamazaki. Before she makes it to the pay phone she's stopped by Saito introduces himself as a prison warden and says he's looking for a very bad man. He's large and has a shaved head, and was seen with a woman in a long coat and a man in a Hawaiian shirt. Haruka says she hasn't seen anyone, and rushes to the phone to call. Saito doesn't seem too convinced. Haruka makes the call and thinks that Saito had a real scary look in his eyes. She's pretty sure he's the bad one here. Once that guy gives up looking, then she can go home

Unfortunately we have the return of the disgusting creep that wants to look at her panties, now telling her that he looked all over for her, and she better not think about trying to run away this time. Haruka tells him to stay back

He says that it's fine if she hates him. In fact, that's even more enticing. She says to let her through, she's in a rush. He says he just wants to see her panties already, and tries to grab her. Another fight, she manages to avoid getting grabbed but he keeps her cornered and says she should stop fighting. He's cut off by a baton to the back of the head by the unlikeliest of heroes, dropping the creep

Haruka now has to consider, is it possible that Saito isn't actually a bad guy? Haruka leaves, and Saito comments to himself that he's going to find Hamazaki.

Haruka rushes back to Hamazaki, who is still lying on the floor going Ughhghghhhhh. She tells him to hold on a little longer, and ambulance is on the way. Hamazaki apologizes, and asks if she's alright. Haruka's confused. Hamazaki says that she scraped her knee on something, didn't she? It was from dragging him, right? She says no, she just fell and scraped it. Haruka's taken aback, even on the verge of death he's concerned about someone else--he really has changed. But... this could all be an act, she has no way to know... should she really be trusting him? There's a voice outside saying that this is where he's hiding. Search everywhere. both: !?

There's no time to hide, Saito is already here. Apparently it's been about 2 hours.

He followed Haruka, knowing she'd lead him right to Hamazaki. He saw the blood on her clothes and had a hunch. Once they talked at that pay phone he was certain she was hiding a half-dead Hamazaki somewhere. Haruka tries to protest but Saito thanks her for her help. It's a good way to thank him for saving her from that creep, right? Either way he only stepped in because he wanted her to lead him to Hamazaki as quickly as possible. Saito decides they've had enough chit-chat and says it's time to cut to the chase: he starts beating on Hamazaki and demanding to know where Kiryu Kazuma and Saejima's sister are

Hamazaki tells Haruka to run. He says that once they realize they can't beat the whereabouts of Kiryu and Saejima Yasuko out of him... they'll start torturing Haruka. He's going to use the last of his strength to stand and knock this guy to the ground, that'll be Haruka's opening to escape. Saito tells them to cut it with the whispering. Hamazaki says that Saito has a real hideous mug, it really makes him laugh, and earns himself another beating. Haruka calls out but Hamazaki cuts her off and says that it's okay to be scared. Hamazaki's dealt with plenty of guys like this. Saito threatens to kill him if he doesn't spit out where Kiryu is already. Hamazaki laughs and says he doesn't know. Saito asks if he needs his memory jogged, pauses, and sees Haruka standing in front of Hamazaki. He asks what she's trying to do. She says this is terrible! She can't let this go any further!!

Saito doesn't care if she's just a kid, he's happy to give her an attitude adjustment. Hamazaki launches himself at Saito to prevent him from beating Haruka, saying that he won't allow Saito to lay a single finger on this child. Saito attacks Hamazaki with intent to kill. Hamazaki can't move anymore after the fight, and Saito keeps hitting until he goes down. Saito declares that he would never die in a place like this, he's the one who's coming out on top. He reels back to strike Hamazaki, shouting for him to die, and........ HARUKA GRABS HIM AND STOPS HIM FROM HITTING HAMAZAKI! He calls her a bitch and tells her to let go of him!

Haruka: I won't let go....! Not ever.....! Hamazaki-san! Run!

Saito: Let go of me you biiiiiiiiiiiiitch! Saito turns to swing at Haruka but is taken down by one giant punch from Hamazaki, who tells him not to get back up. The ambulance finally arrives. Haruka begs him to hold on just a little longer. Hamazaki agrees, and laughs a little. He stopped Saito from laying a finger on her after all. He's glad he was able to protect her. There's on favor he needs to ask of her. Hamazaki: Tell Kiryu...... and Saejima that......... the Tojo Clan... is the only proof they ever walked this earth...... They have to... protect it....... from the police

He then collapses. Haruka begs him to hold on

<screen fades to black>

The doctor tells Haruka that Hamazaki is in bad shape... he might not even make it to the morning.

Haruka thinks back to her yelling at Hamazaki at the orphanage Haruka: I'm sorry, Hamazaki-san..... I... I was cruel to you then... and now I can't even apologize to you for it. I'm sorry....... I'm sorry...... Hamazaki: ......What's.... wrong....... Haruka-..... chan........ Haruka: !? Doctor: Incredible.... he's awake! Haruka: H-Hamazaki-san.... I'm sorry! I... back then when I.... I'm can't apologize enough....... Haruka: Back at Morning Glory.... I didn't trust you.... I said some cruel things that hurt you.... I'm sorry! Haruka: I was certain you were a horrible person back then.... but now.... I don't think that's true.... Haruka: For protecting Uncle Kaz.... for protecting me.... thank you, Hamazaki-san! Hamazaki: Heheh.... thanks, huh? Hamazaki: ......First time.... anyone's ever said that kind of thing.... sincerely to me...... Haruka: Hamazaki-san...... Hamazaki: Heheh.... it's fine........ Since we're.... giving thanks to people..... Hamazaki: Thank you... Haruka-chan.... Right at the very end...... you saved me <Hamazaki collapses> Haruka: .....! H-Hamazaki-saaaaaan!!! <at New Serena, Kiryu gets a phone call> Kiryu: ....Haruka. What's wrong, did something happen?

Haruka: Uncle Kaz... Hamazaki-san..... he just passed away. At the hospital.

Straight from the in-game dialogue, Haruka tells Kiryu that Hamazaki had been shot in the back, leading to his death. He thanks Haruka for being there for him, she says it was no trouble, and that she thinks he died protecting Kiryu. Kiryu agrees. Haruka says she thinks she was wrong about Hamazaki, and passes along his message for Kiryu and Saejima, and lets Kiryu know that his body is currently at Morning Glory. Kiryu says they'll hold a memorial service once he's back <phone call ends> Haruka: .....Uncle Kaz. The Tojo Clan that Hamazaki-san protected... he's left it's protection to you. <END>

Bonus stuff:

as we all know, Haruka has not had enough people literally die in front of her eyes, so time to add Hamazaki to that list!

okay so immediately after Hamazaki wakes up in the hospital there’s this screen which made me break down into nearly crying laughter in the middle of the emotional moment, so I used my editorial authority to move it down here instead

the doctor’s face! why did they do this!!

Anyways here’s all of Haruka’s little blurbs from going around the board

Beach There's a beach in front of Morning Glory. We keep coming back to here to look at the ocean. It's an indispensable spot for all of us.

Morning Glory Our beloved home. When I first came here, I thought it was super spacious, but lately it feels cramped. It must be because everyone has grown up.

Hamazaki-san The guy who stabbed uncle Kaz.... But now, Hamazaki-san gives off a totally different vibe than back then. Is it really okay to trust him....?

Ebisu Pawn The Ryukyu branch of Ebisu. Uncle Kaz goes there every now and then. I have no idea what he's pawning off but... I'd like to help.

People Running Shakedowns Even in Okinawa there are people that will do shakedowns.... I need to tell everyone to keep an eye out before anything happens....!

Ojisan The caretaker of Morning Glory. Honestly, everyone truly thinks of him like their dad. If you tell him something like that however, he will get embarrassed.

Everyone at Morning Glory Everyone here has no parents, but each of them has a bright future ahead of them if they keep working hard. We've all become a real family for each other.

Sailor Outfit For my middle school I have to wear this sailor outfit. At first I would get embarrassed when everyone looked at me.

Mame A resident (pet?) of Morning Glory. Mame is getting bigger, and it's making his daily walks and pacing beforehand a real pain! (TL note: the resident (pet?) is Haruka swapping the counter between for a person and for an animal, which does not really have an english translation lol)

Dragon Mask When Taichi was sick, this was used for a pro wrestling match on the beach. I haven't seen it since then. If I ask nicely, I wonder if it could be used again?

That’s all! Thank you for reading all of this!! I cherish every single tag people leave on these posts when they reblog them

[luceat-eis]

the chances of eddie munson, my beloved, coming back alive (read: as kas the bloody-handed) for st5 are staggeringly low, I fear. there’s just not a whole lot to go off on, like the clues we had to hopper surviving at the end of st3, and joe quinn saying he wouldn’t be returning/the duffers saying that eddie was always meant to die.

HOWEVER. I’m still holding out hope against the odds for a secret/surprise cameo, and I think it could be so cool if he appears as like a “guardian angel” for max. 

(explained under the cut because it got really long lol, if anyone else is as desperate as I am to see eddie again please feel free to read and give your thoughts. ♡)

first, I know the duffers said max is “brain dead” (which is obviously irreversible irl), but I’m moving forward with this theory on the assumption that they don’t have a full understanding of what true brain death is, and what they really meant is that she’s in a coma with an uncertain prognosis. because there has to be some kind of narrative significance to not outright killing her—if the duffers wanted her dead, they’d have done it (as we see with eddie, where they’ve been very open about the fact that he’s capital-D Dead. this is in direct contrast to their statements on hopper following st3, whose fate they left intentionally uncertain in interviews and in the post-credits scene). plus, I can think of few things crueler than pointedly not killing her with vecna, just to force her friends and family into pulling the plug on her. so going along with a theory I’ve seen that el couldn’t find max in her own headspace because she’s trapped in vecna’s, this is how I imagine it:

max’s consciousness is trapped with vecna, unable to break free from him or to communicate with anyone outside, including eleven. the reason eleven couldn’t find max in her own mind is because she isn’t there—she’s with vecna. he doesn’t need to pursue her so aggressively anymore, as he has already done what he planned to do with her when her heart stopped, and the last gate opened. he’s maybe planning to use her still-living body as a vessel after his own body was so significantly weakened during the events of “the piggyback.” in this way, he’s like a parasite: he needs a host in order to survive and take true control over the new world he’s created, similar to the mind flayer with will in st2 and billy in st3 (what is it with this dude and guys named william seriously lmfao). now he wants max, because her body and mind have conveniently already been separated from one another. but the problem is, he’s unable to get her to relent and allow him to use her body. they get the better part of a season’s worth of duking it out psychologically, with max still unwilling to let go of hope that the party/el will save her in the end. finally, maybe toward the end of the season, she is worn down and unable to keep that hope alive, so vecna starts to take over her body—right as max’s mom is getting ready to discontinue her life support on the outside, after seeing no improvements in her condition.

and then, just when max believes she is all out of strength to save herself any longer, she begins to feel the life forces/spirits of the others killed by the mind flayer cheering her on (maybe as part of the hive mind of the upside down; maybe all the people killed by vecna or in the upside down inhabit some space in his mind, since the mind flayer and all the demo-creatures have been under his control the entire time). this also opens up the door for a cameo from barb, and bob, encouraging her to hold out, to keep fighting. it could be such a cool homage to past seasons. 

but the last to show up for max is eddie, right when she’s about to break. and he tells her, “red, I barely knew you, but I didn’t die for this bastard to win in the end. don’t you let him.” I’m imagining this as similar to the harry potter/voldemort duel at the end of goblet of fire, where the ghosts of those killed by voldemort appear to harry and assist him; or, for another example, the grey’s anatomy episode “some kind of miracle,” where a dying meredith sees and talks with the spirits of patients who have passed, and they encourage her to keep living. this uplifts max and ultimately allows her to triumph over vecna. and we get to see eddie again ♡ 

if you made it this far, I’m so sorry if that was utterly incomprehensible lmao. obviously it doesn’t take into account will’s more central role planned for st5, or the use of eleven as the ultimate hero that I’m sure is intended for the series finale. idk, I don’t think I’m a good enough writer to pull it off, but I might make this a fic just to satisfy the urge.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Steve//love? hope? or a bit of both?

Request: Can I maybe request something where after billy's death Steve takes care of the reader and they fall in love

hey! i hope you like it!! i kind of got a little bit carried away (i always do), but i think i pulled it back though! 

- You and Billy were unlikely friends 

- You saw how he bullied people and used girls and you definitely didn’t approve 

- But between working together at the community pool

- And being neighbours 

- The two of you somehow became friends 

- And just friends 

- No matter how hard he tried to make it something more 

- But you knocked him back...always 

- You had more of a thing for Steve 

- Not that you told anybody that though 

- Especially not Billy 

- You saw how much they hated each other 

- And if Billy got even the slightest hint that you liked Harrington, you’d never hear the end of it.

- So that secret stayed with you 

- Its not like you were going to do anything about it anyway

- You’re not entirely sure Steve knew who you were to be honest 

- Anyway...

- So you and Billy saw each other practically everyday

- Apart from when you worked different shifts (which was very rare) 

- Or if he was on a date (that one was not rare) 

- But he did always make time for you 

- And then he starts avoiding you 

- And acting weird 

- And just being off 

- So, one night you decide to follow him 

- Because he’s being reallllllllly weird

- Like, he’s possessed. 

- One minute you’re following him out ‘Bradley’s Big Buy’

- And the next thing you know

- You’re throwing fireworks at a creature in the middle of the mall 

- There’s an odd mix of people with you 

- Steve, for a start 

- And Steve’s co-worker Robin 

- Someone you’ve had a few conversations with while she hands you your ice cream and gives Billy a dirty look

- But you can tell she’s cool 

- Nancy and Jonathan are there too

- With their little brothers and their friends

- Nobody really notices you at first 

- But then again, you all have slightly bigger things to deal with

- However they quickly notice you when they hear you scream

- You can feel yourself running towards Billy

- But arms are around your waist before you’ve barely made it three steps

- And the next thing you know you’re slumped on the floor sobbing into Steve Harrington’s chest 

- In any other situation, this would be your dream 

- Maybe not the crying part 

- But the fact that he’s cuddling you 

- But right now, you just want to see Billy

- To poke him in the arm or chest or something and for him to wake up and tell you 

- ‘i’m just kidding babe’ 

- And you’d roll your eyes at the use of the word ‘babe’ 

- But life would carry on as normal and everyone would be okay 

- You don’t really remember much of the next few days 

- You’re too busy being lost in your grief 

- Like a really large void has opened in your chest and you can’t do anything to stop it from consuming every part of you 

- The only things you really remember are: 

- Billy’s screams 

- Something you can hear/see every time you close your eyes 

- Signing a contract that forces you to keep your mouth shut about everything

- Not that you know anything about it 

- But it makes you feel sick every time you think of it 

- And the lack of people at the Hargrove/Mayfield household 

- The only person that you’ve seen go into the house is Billy’s aunt

- Somebody he saw twice a year if that 

- On the morning of day three of your grief 

- There’s a knock on your bedroom door 

- Thinking its your mom bringing you more food you’re barely going to touch

- You mumble a quiet ‘come in’ and peak your head out from under the blanket

- You’re surprised however when you see Max and Steve 

- Steve looks a little awkward

- And like he hasn’t slept for days 

- But he offers you a smile anyway 

- Max looks more nervous that awkward 

- And like she’s on the verge of tears 

- She tries to force a smile, but she can’t quite make it

- Instead she sighs and looks at the floor 

- You probably look worse than both of the combined 

- But right now you don’t really care 

- Steve takes the lead and shuffles his way into your room 

- Placing a bouquet of flowers on your desk chair

- The Steve stood in your bedroom looks completely different to the one you knew at school 

- He’s more of a shell of himself 

- Before he was confident and cool 

- Now he’s a lot more on edge 

- And something about the way he carries himself makes you think this isn’t the first time he’s had to deal with something like this 

- You sit up and they take that as an invitation to come in

- Steve remains where’s he’s stood, leaning against the wall 

- But Max sits beside you and cuddles into your arm

- She liked you as soon as Billy introduced you as his girlfriend 

- And you’d snorted in reply and told him ‘in your dreams’ 

- You were the first one of Billy’s friends that never seemed annoyed with her 

- You would actually volunteer to hang out with her and her friends 

- And she always liked that about you 

- It made Billy babysitting a lot more fun if you were there 

- Steve is the first to break the silence 

- ‘max asked me if i could come over with her. but i wanted to see how you were doing. and also to say thank you for helping the other night’ 

-His words stumble over each other but you get the jist of what he says and are grateful that he came over

- Even if it is a bit awkward 

- ‘we’re also really sorry for your loss’ 

- Him and Billy may hated each other

- But he didn’t deserve to die 

- He should have been able to grow as a person 

- To apologize and seek forgiveness 

- Plus Steve knows you were close 

- He doesn’t really understand why 

- But he hates seeing you like this 

- He may not have noticed you while at school

- But he noticed you when he would go to the pool on a rare day off 

- And he noticed you when you’d come into Scoops 

- Sometimes you’d be alone and he’d have to stop himself from jumping over the counter and sitting with you 

- Sometimes you’d be with Billy and he’d have to stop himself from jumping over the counter and punching him in the face 

- And sometimes you’d be with other friends 

- But you would always be laughing 

- He really wants to hear you laugh again 

- ‘thanks’ You mumble and look at your duvet

- Max is the next to speak 

- Something about cleaning out Billy’s room before his dad found something he wouldn't like

- She then hands you a jacket that you didn’t even realize she was holding 

- Its denim, so its definitely his 

- And then you remember you’d claimed it when he told you it was too small for him

- It still smells like him and you have never been happier for forgetting something at his house

- You make a mental note to put it somewhere safe after they’ve left 

- ‘thanks’ You mumble again and tuck it beside you. 

- ‘how are you holding up?’ You ask Max but she just shrugs in reply. 

- ‘what about you?’ You turn your attention to Steve and he looks at you surprised 

- ‘i’m good.’ All three of you know he’s lying

- How can anybody be good after that? 

- But you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it, so you don’t push it any further

- ‘and everybody else?’ 

- ‘the same’ He nods. ‘there’s talk of the byers moving with el’ 

- Silence takes over the three of you 

- You’re all looking around your room 

- But you’re thinking of three different things 

- You’re remembering Billy lying on your bed while you were getting dressed for work 

- He was only waiting for five minutes 

- But he made it feel like an eternity because of how much he complained 

- He didn’t stop until your shoes were on and you were walking out the door 

- At the time it annoyed you 

- But right now, you missed his complaining 

- Max is remembering watching him sneak through your window at 2am 

- She remembers teasing him about it the next morning 

- But it was a subtle way to say she saw and she wasn’t going to tell

- Especially because of the bruise on his cheek 

- Steve is thinking about when he was back at school 

- Billy had just turned up

- And Steve knew it was just a matter of time before he was no longer King Steve 

- He had heard countless of rumours about Billy and he’d only been there for less than a week

- But he remembers one that he’s only just realized was about you 

- Someone had seen the two of you talking outside your house 

- ‘he’s going to break her heart’ They’d said 

- Whoever had said it was right. 

- Eventually the silence got too much and they both left 

- You promised Max that she was welcome to come round any time 

- Both of them were

- And you meant it

- The next time you saw them was Billy’s funeral 

- For the amount of women that Billy slept with, there was a definite lack of people in the church 

- You were sat at the front beside Max 

- But you noticed the rest of the party, as well as Steve, Nancy, Jonathan and Robin sat near the back. 

- After the wake

- You shrugged Billy’s jacket on, despite only going next door 

- To your surprise

- Steve was sat on your porch holding another bouquet of flowers 

- Once he noticed you, he stood up and fiddled with his jacket a little 

- However once you sat down beside him

- He slowly sat again and handed you the flowers 

- ‘thanks for coming today’ 

- ‘oh’ He says surprised ‘no problem’ 

- ‘will you thank the others for me?’ 

- ‘yeah of course.’ He replies. ‘how are you?’ 

- You just shrug in reply but he understands 

- ‘about that nigh-’ 

- ‘steve? i have literally so many questions. but please...not tonight’

- ‘sorry’ 

- Instead of answering 

- You just lean your head on his shoulder.

- To the outside world 

- You probably look like a couple of teens coming back from a first date 

- And right now, you wished life was that simple 

- You shove your hands in your pockets but something catches them 

- You frown in confusion and pull it from your pocket

- Its a mixtape with your name scrawled on it 

- As soon as you recognize the handwriting you smile and lift your head up

- ‘whats that?’ Steve asks while watching you trace the writing carefully 

- ‘mixtape. it must be from billy’ You sigh and shove your hands back in your pocket to see if there’s anything else 

- There’s a few gum wrappers (and a condom...gross. He definitely put that in there to annoy you) 

- But there’s a small note and your heart rate increases 

- ‘hey babe. i made this for you to play when you eventually bone harrington (god knows why you want to). you know you really have to be more subtle if you want to keep something like that from me. if you want any practice before you do the deed, i’m more than willing to help’ 

- ‘whats that?’ Steve looks over your shoulder and you quickly shove the note back in your pocket 

- ‘oh, its just a stupid note’ 

- ‘was there something going on with you two?’ 

- ‘ha! he wishes’ You laugh, but its only now do you realize you’re crying 

- ‘you two just seemed close’ 

- ‘nah. just friends. we both liked very different people’ 

- ‘oh’ If this was any other night and not the funeral of your best friend, you would have thought he sounded hopeful. ‘are you going to listen to it?’ 

- ‘probably later.’ You blush slightly 

- ‘we could listen to it in my car’ 

- ‘excuse me?’ 

- ‘not like that.’ He laughs and you feel your heart sink a little. ‘just, driving around town has been a welcome distraction this past week. sometimes we all meet up in one of the empty parking lots on the other side of town just to hang out and feel normal. i just thought it might help’ 

- ‘yeah...that sounds nice’ 

- He helps you up stand and tries to grab the mixtape from you but you quickly shove it back in your pocket 

- ‘knowing billy he would have put some very inappropriate songs on it’ 

- ‘yeah. i don’t want to know what sort of stuff he liked’ He laughs

- You know he was only joking 

- But the way he says it makes you frown 

- He notices how sad you look once you’re both sat in his car and he sighs 

- He’s still trying to be better at a lot of things

- Reading signals is one of them apparently 

- ‘why don’t you tell me your favourite memory of him’ 

- So you do 

- You tell him about the time Billy thought he’d locked you in the cleaning supply closet at work 

- When in reality it was somebody who looked nothing like you and when you tapped him on the shoulder he screamed like a baby. 

- And you laugh like you used to when you’d walk into Scoops and brighten up his day 

- He hopes he’s going to hear it a lot more 

- And so do you 

[angstyaches]

This is trope anon from before :) It might be interesting to see Elliot put off feeling sick, because he is so caught up taking care of everyone else? He kind of strikes me as a worry about everyone else first kind of guy lol. Then absolutely regretting it later haha

If not Elliot, Ryan also kind of gives me similar vibes

CW: mention of disordered eating/malnourishment, trauma mention, overwork, nausea, emeto, dizziness, blood mention (he’s a vamp, so yeah), pining (for absent partner), platonic/brotherly caretaking

Author’s note: Elliott and Felix are going to be just FINE! They’re not even broken up; Felix is just a little AWOL after a fight they had. I just loooove me some angst.

Elliott’s vision went pitch black for a moment as he stood and waited for the kettle to finish boiling. His stomach lurched so harshly that he almost turned towards the sink, expecting the return of the blood he’d drank for breakfast. Instead, he swallowed, closed his eyes, and breathed in slowly through his nose. He was overexerted, probably. He’d been pushing himself during his and Shayne’s ritualistic “sparring” (or, as Shayne called it, “trying to kick the shit out of each other” or “therapy”) session. Elliott had hoped his supernatural abilities would have begun to manifest by now, seeing as his transition to full vampire was complete. But still, nothing yet. Maybe the stress of Felix being gone was stunting his development. Maybe the stress was adding to how bad he felt.

The kettle clicked, reminding him of why he was standing in the kitchen in the first place. Elliott’s heart sank as he recalled Shayne’s eyes rolling back in his head, his body almost hitting the ground before Elliott could catch him. Turned out the kid had been starving himself again. Elliott would have punched his lights out if they hadn’t already basically been out.

A minute later, Elliott picked up a hot mug and crossed the open-plan kitchen and living area to where he’d left Shayne on the white sofa. He was conscious now, at least, but his eyes were glazed and unfocused.

The mug contained hot, weak tea and a few spoons of the glucose solution Ryan had concocted for Felix’s blood-and-sugar lollipops. Back in the day, when Felix refused blood and couldn’t hold food down, Ryan had fed him the solution like this, and it had kept him from passing out. The smell was so strong that Elliott almost gagged, his body so delicate as to protest merely being in the presence of human sustenance.

Elliott tried to hand Shayne the mug, but his cousin’s hands were so shaky he almost dropped it immediately. Elliott took it back, trying to ignore the fact that his own hands weren’t exactly the steadiest. He brought the rim of the mug to Shayne’s lips.

Shayne made a face and pulled away as soon as he took the first sip. His hand went to his mouth, like he was considering spitting it back out.

“Swallow it.”

A shiver seemed to roll through Shayne’s body as he did. His eyes watered like he was about to cry. “That tastes like shit, El.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for forgetting that you need to eat.”

“I didn’t forget I needed to…” Shayne mumbled. “I’m not stupid.”

“That’s extremely debatable. Drink.”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

“Drink,” Elliott said again, as calmly as he could, “or I’m going to get Ryan.”

The last of the fight went out of Shayne’s eyes. Elliott knew he didn’t want Ryan or Nancy to know things had gotten this bad again.

Victorious but not feeling it, Elliott brought the mug to Shayne’s lips again and again, letting him take small sips. At one point, he covered his mouth again, shoulders jerking forward as he gagged slightly. Elliott’s stomach flipped at the sound and he had to turn his face away until Shayne stopped. He didn’t usually puke from seeing somebody else do it, but he had a bad feeling that if Shayne threw up, he would lose it too.

Shayne shook his head when presented with the mug again. A tentative hand rested on his stomach. “I can’t, El. It’s so heavy.”

Part of Elliott didn’t want to yield so easily, wanted to make him finish the mug. He wondered what Felix would do, or how Charlie would have reacted to that pleading look. Elliott knew he wasn’t soft in the same way they were. He just hoped he wasn’t harsh.

He hoped he wasn’t frightening.

He swallowed against a swell of nausea in his belly. Whatever was gnawing at the pit of his stomach weakened his resolve.

“Okay,” he said, “lie down.”

Shayne gave a small sigh of relief.

Elliott took the mug back to the sink. White floor and wall tiles swayed all around him like he was inside the world’s most colourless kaleidoscope. He slowly breathed in through his nose, leaning on the edge of the countertop to try and introduce some form of balance to his body.

He’d extended the offer to Shayne, but honestly, lying down sounded like an absolute dream to Elliott, too. Maybe his body would stop freaking out if he got a little more rest. His sleeping pattern was completely thrown off, his mind raced in the middle of the night. Felix had star-fished across about forty different mattresses before choosing theirs, and while Elliott had acted like he didn’t care which one they bought, he had ended up agreeing that it was the best mattress he’d ever used. But sleeping there without Felix felt wrong, so his body had been rejecting it as much as physically possible.

Nowadays, he might as well have been sleeping in a wooden coffin like the stereotype dictated.

He turned around to check on Shayne, frowning when he saw that he was still sitting upright on the sofa.

“I thought you were going to try and sleep?”

“I can’t – I can’t,” Shayne whispered, lowering his head into his hands. “El, I – every time I try, I feel like she’s here. Breathing on the back of my neck…”

Guilt churned Elliott’s stomach this time. Elliott felt regrets like cobwebs sticking to his soul, and although he didn’t allow himself many, one of those cobwebs was the feeling that maybe he could have gotten Shayne out of Madelyn’s sooner.

“She’s not getting in here,” Elliott promised. “Ryan will have her head on a stick before letting that happen. Nancy will turn her blood into tar.”

“She doesn’t have to be here, El. She’s already here.” Shayne pressed a finger to either side of his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Jesus, I’m – I’m sorry, man.” Elliott laid a hand on his stomach, stifling a belch since he really didn’t need gas leaving his body to make this moment even more stressful. “What usually helps when this happens?”

As Elliot should have expected, Shayne gave a lifeless shrug. Alright, think, Elliott told himself, swallowing thickly. He’d never seen Shayne warm up to anyone until that day in the park when he’d been clinging to Charlie like his life depended on it. He liked to act tough (and who did he pick that up from, I wonder?), but really, Shayne just didn’t want to be alone.

He’d be lying if he said he couldn’t understand that feeling.

Elliott swallowed again, fighting the lump in his throat and the swirling in the pit of his stomach.

“Want me to sit with you?”

Shayne opened his eyes, looking genuinely surprised.

Elliott sank down on the sofa without waiting for a verbal answer. He hit the cushions a little too quickly for his stomach’s liking. It shifted noisily, semi-digested contents swimming around inside. “Now, if you think you can feel someone breathing on you, you can tell yourself it’s just me.”

“Ugh,” Shayne groaned, curling up on his side so that the top of his head was just next to – scarcely touching – Elliott’s thigh. “Do not breathe on me, man.”

Elliott smiled through his vaguely-concealed discomfort, glad that Shayne wasn’t facing him. “Afraid you’ll catch vampire cooties?”

Shayne didn’t respond beyond a soft groan that Elliott interpreted as “shut the fuck up, old man”. So even though he’d have loved to keep taunting his cousin and keep himself distracted, Elliott shut up, letting his neck rest against the back of the sofa and draping one arm up over his eyes. Lack of vision made the world feel a little less like the spinning drum of a washing machine. Elliott regretted dreaming up that metaphor, gritting his teeth as he realised his stomach felt like such a drum, too.

He was swallowing constantly, every few seconds now, chest tight with the effort of drawing slow, shallow breaths. It felt like the fibres holding his being together were frayed and left just shaky enough to throw everything off without causing him any actual, physical pain. Beneath it all was a tiny flame of anger; what the hell was the point in becoming a vampire if feeling unexplainably shitty at inconvenient intervals was still on the table?

An icy shiver ran down Elliott’s back, and he flinched where he sat. He slid his hand around the back of his neck and gulped another wave of saliva. Nothing was there, yet when he exhaled, he shuddered again. Shayne’s talk about Madelyn must have wormed its way into Elliott’s mind. Lord, he really was a mess.

He glanced down to make sure his sudden jump hadn’t disturbed Shayne. It was hard to tell if the boy was sleeping or just trying very hard to stay still. At least he didn’t seem to be panicked or shaking anymore. Elliott desperately wanted to stand up and walk around; moving and distracting himself would surely ease the building pain in his stomach, but he didn’t think he could get up without jostling Shayne.

Sucking in a breath and trying to brace his stomach for the move, Elliott shifted his weight on the sofa, cringing at how much the cushions flexed with him. He watched Shayne’s head, his breath still caught somewhere between his belly and his lungs. Another trickle of unpleasantly cool sweat ran down the back of his neck and his hands shook until he dropped the weight of his head into them. His elbows felt unbalanced on his knees. His stomach flipped, and he swallowed measuredly against its protests.

“El?”

“Yeah,” Elliott choked out, though he’d meant to give a friendly, open yeah? As in Felix’s chirpy Yeah, buddy? Are you okay? What can I do for you?

“Y’alright?” was all Shayne replied with.

“I’m good, yeah.” Upon tasting blood and bile, Elliott gulped again. “Just relax, okay? No one’s going to –”

Elliott jammed a fist against his lips in time to stifle a wet, shallow belch. The sound was so sudden and violent that his head shot forward, almost ducking between his own knees.

“Fuck,” Shayne gasped, scrambling upright despite the fact his eyes were barely open. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Elliott half-snapped, annoyance at himself manifesting as annoyance at Shayne. “I may have pushed myself a bit this morning, but I’m –”

He was once again cut off by a belch, this one rumbling up from much deeper inside him. His belly continued bubbling even after the air stopped being pushed up.

“El, I think you need to –”

“Don’t.” Elliott shook his head.

“Why did –” Shayne winced slightly and rubbed at his head. “Why didn’t you say you were feeling sick?”

“Because I was trying to look after you!” Elliott sighed into his hands. The tiny burst of frustration was dizzying on top of everything else. “Lord fucking knows you can’t take care of yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Shayne said back, though his voice was empty of any of its usual fight. “I’m – I’m trying, I’ve been trying… Elliott, just go to the sink!”

Elliott’s shoulders rolled as he covered his mouth with his palm, feeling a thick film grow over his tongue. He was tempted to swallow it down again but a cramp ripped through his gut, making all of his organs squeeze in defiance of him swallowing anything.

“Shit,” he somehow mumbled, sitting forward and pushing himself to his feet as Shayne pushed – weakly but with good intentions – at his back to help him up. Elliott sprinted across the kitchen tiles and flung himself at the sink, stars in his vision and blood in his mouth. He was unbearably dizzy as he heaved up what he’d drank that morning. At least it had been an animal-blood day, and he wasn’t watching mouthfuls of human blood pooling in the sink and trickling into the drain.

It was a waste, but it could have been worse. He choked on a sob, realising he’d never thought like this until Felix.

“Fuck,” Elliott gasped when something moved next to him. He hadn’t even noticed Shayne following him to the sink. “Christ. I feel awful… Why – why do I feel this bad?”

“You’re trying to force something you’re not capable of.” Shayne folded his arms and rested them on the countertop, eyes falling shut again.

Elliott spat bitterly towards the drain. “How the fuck do you figure that?”

“Because that’s my whole life summed up, El.”

Elliott gripped the neck of the tap and turned it on, directing the water around the sink to get rid of the mess he’d made. His head was spinning and his nerves still felt alive with electricity and just wrong in general, but his belly felt a lot better. He felt like he could breathe normally again.

“You okay?”

“I think so.” Elliott rinsed his mouth, running tap water into his palm and lifting it to his lips. It was cool, and soothing on his throat after the retching.

Shayne looked positively miserable as their eyes met. “What now?”

As he shut off the tap, Elliott brushed a wet hand across the back of his own neck, relishing the cold drip that started trailing down his back. He shut his eyes, feeling like he was ready to drift off to sleep on his feet, like a horse.

“Well,” he said, “how would you like to take a nap on a really nice mattress?”

[renecdote]

⌓ for Buck + mmmmaybe someone like Bobby or Hen? Or whoever you'd like best :)

⌓: tissues

Hen doesn’t know why Buck keeps insisting it’s just a cold. The kid is clearly miserable, sniffling and coughing his way through morning readout, restocking the truck, and their first two calls. With every dogged step, a little more of his brightness dims. Hen exchanges looks with Bobby and Chimney, entire conversations carried out in pointed facial expressions. Tell him to go home, with raised eyebrows. You don’t think I tried? with a head shake. Maybe you should try harder, with a wrinkled nose. Maybe YOU should try, with a grimace.

“Athena will be here for lunch,” Bobby offers, as if he doesn’t know that Buck has just as much history ignoring Athena’s orders as anyone else’s.

Hen wishes Eddie was with them, not eight hundred miles away in El Paso. He’s always had a way of getting through to Buck that no one else—except maybe Maddie—can manage. It’s not that Buck doesn’t listen to them. It’s not that they don’t all understand (even if no one has said it aloud) why he’s so reluctant to take a sick day. It’s just… different with Eddie. Buck is different with Eddie.

They drift apart after the second call, keeping themselves busy doing chores around the station, or taking the opportunity to relax. When Bobby calls out that lunch is ready and Buck is the only one who doesn’t crawl out of the woodwork, they all frown. More looks are exchanged, this time with Athena’s worried eyebrows added to the mix.

“I’ll check on him,” Hen volunteers, turning back toward the stairs.

Buck isn’t in the gym, or the locker room, or anywhere else in the bay. Bathrooms are empty, too, and it’s not until she pushes open the door to the bunk room that she finds him. He’s not asleep—that much is obvious as soon as bleary blue eyes crack open, registering her presence before slipping shut again—but he’s curled under a blanket, tissue box beside him, phone balanced on the pillow near his head. It takes Hen a few seconds to realise that the voice from the phone isn’t a podcast, nor one of those sleep apps she’s seen him use sometimes; it’s a phone call.

“Hey Eddie,” Hen says when she moves closer, perching on the edge of the bed. The way Buck shuffles closer seems to be instinctive, honing in on the warmth and comfort she has to offer.

From the phone, Eddie asks, “Hen?”

“The one and only.” She smiles down at Buck when he huffs, too tired to even be properly amused. “I don’t suppose you’ve convinced Buckaroo here to give up and go home yet?”

Eddie hesitates. Hen hears it, but she also feels it in the way that Buck’s muscles tense beneath her hand. She trails her fingers down his neck, just firm enough not to tickle, but either the sensation or the coolness of her hands makes him shiver. He’s too warm; she wonders if he knows that he’s running a fever. And she appreciates that Eddie wants to keep Buck’s secrets, but he’s in no condition to work. Whatever force was pushing him through the morning seems to have fizzled out completely, leaving him weak and looking about two steps above miserable.

“I was about to call Maddie,” Eddie says eventually. “See if she can pick him up.”

Hen hears what isn’t being said: Buck doesn’t want to go home alone. Maybe he just doesn’t want to be alone, period, because she knows what he’s like and she knows how fevers can take your deepest hurts and insecurities and twist them into barbarous monsters. Maybe Buck doesn’t know that he’s running a fever, but he’s got to be feeling it.

“We’ll take care of him until Maddie can get here,” Hen promises, and she’s speaking to Eddie, but the words are all for Buck. She runs her fingers through his hair again and he makes a quiet, needy sound as he turns into the touch.

“I know,” Eddie says quietly. He lingers on the phone for a long moment, like he doesn’t want to be the first to hang up. Hen doesn’t break the silence between them, waiting until Eddie clears his throat. “I’ll call you again later, Buck, okay? Get some rest, let everyone fuss over you.”

Buck grunts wordlessly, not quite agreeing, but then he drags his head up a little, finding enough strength to croak, “Love you.”

The smile is clear in Eddie’s voice when he replies, “I love you too.”

Well, that answers that question, Hen thinks.

Bobby, Chimney and Athena are all upstairs waiting for an update, but she waits until she thinks Buck has fallen asleep before she moves. She smooths back his curls and squeezes the hand that reaches across the mattress when she stands up—searching for her or someone else, it’s hard to tell. Buck coughs and rolls over, settling back down, and only then does Hen slip out of the room. She lingers for a moment in the doorway, looking back at the light spilling across his pale face. Then she goes upstairs to let everyone know that Buck is sick but okay, he’s just in need of a little extra love today.