#every time Susan is there she finds a way to check in on her daughter

[therighthandofvengeance]

ivanova 🤝 alisa

learning to be their best, most authentic self on minbar

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: Steve & El being siblings in front of Hopper. Steve and his younger sisters as he refers to them (El, Max & Erica) being ridiculous together. Max teaching them how to skateboard. Steve teaching El how to take care of her hair & they do martial arts classes together. Erica & Steve being space & rock nerds together. Just Steve & his lil sister's confusing the hell out of their respective parents by referring to Steve as their older brother, once the Sinclair parents, Hop & Susan Hargrove realize who their daughters are referring too its hard for them to not find it both hilarious & charming that Steve is the one their girls go too for comfort.

MY LOVE!!! I didn't quite get ALL of that request in here, but I got the FEELING of it all I think. I love that Steve probably acts like he's just being a good babysitter but these three are ready to kill someone for him in a heartbeat. Erica genuinely loves him more than Lucas, that's what I feel in my heart. Enjoy some cute big brother Steve moments! - Mickala ❤️

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“Okay, what are the rules?” Steve asked the car full of girls.

He didn’t have to look behind him to know that Erica was rolling her eyes.

“My only rule is to not break any more bones,” Max said from the passenger seat.

“That’s not entirely-”

“We have to wear our helmets and pads the whole time,” El said from directly behind him.

“Thank you, El. And?” He put the car in park, staring out at the empty skate park in front of them.

“And stay where you can see us at all times. Check in every ten minutes,” Erica sighed.

“Alright, have fun, don’t hurt yourselves, don’t talk to strangers!” Steve exclaimed.

They all got out of the car and grabbed their boards and protective gear from the trunk, taking a few moments to get ready.

Max was giving them some basic tips for getting started, how to balance when standing still and when moving, and how to take it slow.

Steve set a towel out on the hood of his car and sat on it, watching them all make their way to the flat area for beginners.

He smiled to himself as he watched Max adjust them on their boards, making sure their stance was going to keep them balanced.

As tough as Max was on the surface, she was a soft marshmallow on the inside, especially when it came to El and Erica. Steve loved to watch her share her passions, to show true happiness when so much of her life had been just getting by.

“Steve! I’m doing it!” Erica’s voice rang out.

“I see! Lookin’ great!” he yelled back.

He heard a car pull into the parking lot, but didn’t turn to see who it was. It was most likely a parent with their kid or maybe a couple teenagers with nothing better to do.

He didn’t expect Max’s mom to sit next to him on the hood of his car.

“She said she was coming here with her big brother and I was a little worried that her medications needed to be adjusted again. I’m certainly glad that it’s you,” Susan said.

“Oh,” Steve smiled. “Yeah. She wanted to show El and Erica how to get going. It seems to be going well already.”

He felt Susan’s eyes on him as he kept watching the progress the girls were making.

“You work at Family Video still right?” she asked out of nowhere.

“Oh, yes ma’am. Today’s my day off.”

He finally turned to see her nodding, taking in her nurse’s uniform and the dark circles under her eyes.

“They’re lucky to have you, Steve.”

“I dunno about-”

“They are. Thank you,” she said sincerely before smiling at him and standing up. “Tell Maxine I’ll be pulling another double. She’s welcome to stay with El again.”

“Sure thing.”

He watched as Susan got in her car and left, frowning slightly at the fact that Max would be alone again. Well, not alone. Not if she stayed with El.

He knew Susan didn’t have a choice, had to pay the bills somehow and couldn’t just not work. But it hurt him to know Max’s life was so similar to his in that his parents were never around either.

At least she had good friends.

And she had him.

—----------------------------

Steve was half asleep when the doorbell rang.

It was late, much too late for anyone who would ring the doorbell to be there.

He yawned as he made his way to the door, hoping it would be quick.

“El?”

El was standing on his porch, small cosmetic bag in her hands.

“Steve, I need help.”

“Come in,” he gestured for her to come in, checking behind her for something or someone to be following her.

Of all of them, El was the most likely to be able to defend herself, so he wasn’t sure why she was seeking his help.

He turned to see her sitting on the couch, already taking things out of her bag.

A hairbrush, some rubber bands, a headband, and a ribbon.

“What exactly do you need help with?” Steve asked as he sat down next to her on the couch.

“I need to know how to braid my hair. Max usually does it for me, sometimes Will, but I do not know how to do it myself.”

“And you thought that I could help with that? Why not ask Max to show you?”

“Because she is not a very good teacher when it comes to these things. She just knows how to do it but does not know how to show me. So can you?”

Steve couldn’t possibly say no to her big eyes looking at him like that. She wasn’t even doing it the way the other kids did when they just wanted to bribe him into saying yes. This was just El.

“Yeah. But a comb would be much better for parting your hair. Let me go get one,” he said, trying to shake off any exhaustion he was feeling before.

It was a long process.

El was incredibly smart, but sometimes the simplest thing to someone else would be extremely difficult for her, and her frustration would make it even harder.

But Steve had patience, especially when it came to El.

“Close! You just want to try to do it a little tighter so it doesn’t fall out while you put the band at the bottom,” he smiled at her encouragingly. “Feel how I’m tugging just a little bit tighter while braiding over here?” El nodded. “Try to do that on that side.”

El started over, and Steve could tell this time would be the time she got it right.

“There you go! It’s perfect!” he jumped up and took her hands in his, pulling her off the couch so they could jump up and down in excitement.

“I did it!” she laughed.

“Next lesson: french braiding,” Steve said when they both calmed down.

“The braiding is in a different language?” El asked, confused.

“No, honey, it’s just a different style. It’s a bit harder, but if you practice regular braids more, you’ll be able to do it no problem.”

“Oh, okay!” El beamed at him. “I should go home now.”

He glanced at the clock and frowned.

“It’s close to midnight. Does Hop know you’re here?”

El shook her head.

“He’s working. Joyce said it was okay though. I told her I was seeing my big brother and she did not mind,” El said casually, like the words wouldn’t completely shake Steve at his foundation.

“I’ll drive you home. Don’t want you taking your bike this late,” Steve sighed.

“You look tired.”

Steve startled, but relaxed quickly. Of course, El would notice that.

“I just haven’t slept well lately.”

“Is it because Robin and Eddie are gone?”

“Maybe,” Steve squinted at her. “I’ll take you home and then try to get some sleep before my shift tomorrow.”

“I can sleep in the guest room. Maybe it will help you sleep to have someone in the house,” El suggested, as if it wasn’t a big deal that she offered or that she clearly knew Steve’s problem was that he was alone in this house.

“Only if you call and let Joyce know first.”

Once El was settled in the guest room, Steve got in his own bed and closed his eyes.

It was the best sleep he’d had in days.

—-------------------------

Erica’s birthday party had been mostly family and her best friends from school, but for some reason, she’d invited Steve.

Not just invited, insisted that he attend.

So he did. He switched shifts with Robin for it and everything.

He went to Macy’s to buy her the skirt she’d wanted for months, ended up buying matching shoes, too.

She’d loved them, of course, as he knew she would.

But he got her a third gift, something he didn’t want to give to her in front of everyone. Something that meant a lot more.

He’d asked the Sinclairs if he could stay for a bit after the party, explained to them that the real present he got her couldn’t be given until the sun had fully set.

“Oh, of course, Steve! She likes you more than any of us anyway. Keep her busy while we finish cleaning up!” Mrs. Sinclair exclaimed.

So after everyone left, after Erica was sorting through her gifts and organizing them, after the night set in completely, Steve sat down next to her.

“Hey, littlest Sinclair.”

“Hey, biggest Harrington.”

“I’m…the only Harrington?”

She snorted, but didn’t respond.

Steve cleared his throat, not wanting to stay on something that confused him for too long. Erica would run with it if she thought she could tease him more.

“I got you another gift. You have to come outside, though.”

Erica stared at him.

“If I have to go outside, I don’t think I’ll like it very much,” she said with a raised brow.

“Trust me.”

She sighed and set down the purse she got from her cousin, standing up from her spot on the floor and gesturing for Steve to lead the way.

They went to the backyard, finally stopping where her telescope was set up. She’d gotten the telescope last Christmas, and often had meteor shower parties with Steve and El.

“Alright. So. Find Ursa Minor.” He waited until she gave him a thumbs up. “Now find Kochab.”

She’d been working on mapping constellations since she got the telescope, and had focused on Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. She’d gotten pretty good at locating a lot of things.

“So a bit to the left and a little up, there’s a star. And it’s probably already millions of years old, and will probably be around for millions more. But for right now, that star is named E.S. and was adopted in your name,” Steve pulled the certificate from his pocket.

He’d already found the star a week ago during one of his visits, or at least what he thought was the star. It was close enough anyway.

She pulled away from the telescope and looked at Steve with her mouth wide open.

“What?”

“Sorry it’s not a very creative name. I knew you’d hate if I named it Erica, and I didn’t wanna come up with something even worse.”

“You got me a star?”

The light from the moon was enough to see the tears forming in her eyes, and Steve instantly felt some gathering in his own.

“Well, someone who’s gonna change the world as much as you needs a permanent place in the galaxy, don’t you think?”

Erica fell into him, wrapping her arms around his middle. His shirt was already wet with tears, but he refused to comment on it, knew she would hate it if he did.

“You’re the best big brother,” she whispered, probably trying to hide her emotions.

“You’re the best little sister,” he whispered back.

[upsidedog]

i would love so much for the parents of stranger things, besides joyce and hopper, to get some elaboration on how they feel about their kids clearly having trauma from a series of events mostly unknown to them.

like does charles notice that after the fourth of july he and lucas have the same reaction to fireworks? for a moment he questions if ptsd, or whatever the shrink he was forced to visit after being discharged from the military called it, could be passed down genetically, no, of course not. he was in that mall fire, or maybe he just saw it? neither of the kids had given him any details, he and sue agreed to let them speak about it on their own time, even though their own time is starting to feel like never. and charles can let erica sleep in sue and his bed and he can give lucas advice on how to deal with the fireworks, but any deeper conversations and the kids are “fine” - they’re always fine. sue mentions therapy, charles scoffs at the suggestion, therapy would imply something’s wrong, that he did something wrong, that he didn’t follow all the rules, read all the parenting books, try his best but still fall short to things both in and out of his control. so lucas tears up and hugs him for “no particular reason” sometimes, erica still makes him check for monsters in the closet. kids can be strange, his kids are strange, but also his favorite people ever, so he’ll take his wins where he can.

after they move to forest hills does susan apologize for not being more present? yes, max says it’s fine, it’s not. susan wants to pull herself apart for her behavior, she tells herself she’ll do better tomorrow, she won’t. she’ll have max rest her head in her lap while they watch murder she wrote and find the time to braid her hair before school, but she can’t change the past or justify her failings or take away max’s pain. she can’t even talk about neil or billy. how does she explain that she desperately misses the worst man she’s ever met? or at least the moments where he was apologizing for something she probably should have left him for. and billy, no, yeah, billy... when susan schedules max to see the school counselor max accuses her of pawning off her problems to a stranger, yes, not that she thinks therapy would be useless for her. she thinks about how after the night max snuck out she anxiously confided in neil that something was wrong with max, something happened. he laughed at her, “that’s just what max is like,” oh right, she doesn’t know her own daughter, the man barely acknowledges when she enters or exits the home unless it’s an excuse to get angry, knows her daughter better than her, that’s just what she’s like. yeah, sorry, right, this is what it’s always been like.

after dustin’s good friend’s brother dies does claudia offer any support? maybe too much. she smothers dustin with love the same way she did when will went missing, the way she always has, dustin waves it away, billy was a dick, it doesn’t matter. claudia brings a lasagna to the hargroves, max’s grumpy step-dad slams the door in her face and dustin blows a gasket when he hears. suddenly unconditional love isn’t feeling like enough. dustin cries in her arms, when she asks what’s wrong he tells her that he isn’t allowed to say. what a perfect way to make every possible fear rush through her head. later he says it’s bullying, kids at school are mean and there isn’t anything she can do about it. she decides to believe him. hugs and home cooking don’t work like they used to but she tries, keeps engaging in his interests and checking in on him. She wouldn’t be herself if she stopped trying, even as the meltdowns increase in frequency and severity, his attitude becomes more sour, everything seems to be going wrong, she preserves.

when mike slams his door for the fifth time in a single week does ted change his technique for connecting with his son? no. what technique? that’s his wife’s job, not his.

[stargazingellie]

lazarus is risen

chapter two: garden of the hesperides

(masterlist) (part 1)

hello beautiful people <3 here is the second part of the story i'm also writing on ao3!!

(ellie williams x reader, post-tlou2, useless lesbians, slow burn, cross country road trip, lots of references to greek mythology, etc.)

The Hesperides: Greek nymphs known for their luscious gardens, namely as protectors of golden apples. Also called “Nymphs of the West” or “Daughters of the Evening.”

[Lucy]

“If we’re here, and Jackson is there…” The young woman moved her finger between two  spots on a map, the latter of which was designated by a neatly drawn circle.  “... then I’d say we’re only a couple hours away now.” She looked up from the backseat to confirm with her companions.

From the passenger seat, Officer Alvaro checked his compass and the watch on his wrist. “Affirmative. About five hours, give or take.”

The young woman sat back in her seat and smiled triumphantly to herself. See? I’m not totally useless, she thought. She turned to look out the window and watched the rolling landscape flicker by. Sure, there were mountains and forests back home, but out here they seemed so much more serene. Empty, almost. She knew better, though; nowhere – even a place as remote as Wyoming – was void of danger.

To her left sat an aging man whose round, wire-rimmed glasses seemed to require constant adjusting. He pushed them up the bridge of his nose and ran his hands through his long white beard in contemplation. “Let’s play a game!” He suggested, raising a finger in the air. Everybody groaned.

“Dad, we’ve  already played every road trip game out there. Like three times,” The young woman retorted.

Giving her a light fist bump to the shoulder, he replied, “Aw, come on Luce! Have to pass the time somehow!”

The familiar nickname made her soften. She sighed and gave in, mostly to humor her father, but secretly she did enjoy the entertainment too. “Okay, okay, fine. How about… the Alphabet Game?”

His face lit up in excitement. “Ah, yes, fantastic choice. A classic. Now for a category. Let’s see… let’s do… plants native to North America? I’ll go first. American Bittersweet.”

She thought for a moment, then said, “Okay. American Bittersweet, Black-Eyed Susan. Your turn Alvaro.”

Officer Alvaro looked at the pair in the rearview mirror with a blank expression. “All due respect, sir, but Jacobs and I are trained in military combat, not indigenous plant life. We’re the brawns of this operation, not the brains, remember?”

 “Well, technically I’m not trained in plants either,” the older man replied. “I just find them fascinating. But if you want to talk about fungi–”

“What if we just listen to some music?” the young woman suggested, knowing her father would blabber about his research to anyone who would listen unless someone intervened.

The next few hours passed without further game suggestions from the backseat. The young woman dozed off, but woke up as the vehicle came to a lurching stop. She looked around groggily, only to find they were surrounded by a thick, lush forest.

From the driver’s seat, Officer Jacobs switched the vehicle off and opened his door. “It’s on foot from here. Pretty straight shot, shouldn’t take too long.”

As they all dismounted from the military-grade truck, the young woman stretched her stiff joints and breathed in the sweet scent of pine from the surrounding trees. She retrieved her bag from the back of the truck and collected her gun. She hadn’t needed to use it yet, and it still felt heavy and awkward in her hand.

“This way.” Alvaro nodded towards the treeline and began to walk towards it. The older man and the young woman fell in line behind him, with Jacobs bringing up the rear. 

As they made their way through the dense undergrowth, the young woman asked her father, “So, have you thought about what you’ll say when we get there? I think you’ll need something better than, Hey, can we take her?”

Her father chuckled. “Well I wasn’t planning on approaching it like that. I figured I would explain who we are, and how we found her, and what she could do with us. I want this to be her decision. I want her to want to come with us. And I think once she hears what we’ve been working on, she will.”

She considered his response. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Well, that’s assuming she’s even here. That Firefly woman’s intel was pretty old. Lots of things could have happened since then. Maybe she has a family, or went somewhere else, you know?”

Jacobs chimed in from the back of the line. “To the best of our knowledge, her information was good. We cross-referenced with some of our correspondents out here. They all knew about the Salt Lake incident, and they all pointed to Jackson as her most likely location.”

“And even if she’s not here, maybe they’ll know something,” the older man added. “And we’ll know one more place where she isn’t. When the hypothesis isn’t supported, regroup and collect more data. It’s all in the scientific process, my dear.”

After an hour or so, the group stopped at a gurgling creek to refill their water. As she knelt down on the bank and held her bottle below the surface, the young woman observed the rocks along the creek bed. Eyeing one in particular, she used her free hand to retrieve it from the water. Perfect, she thought, turning it over in her hand. When her bottle was full, she returned it to her bag along with the small, smooth, gray pebble.

Suddenly, splashing sounds and distant talking became audible downstream. With their guns drawn, the four travelers watched as two people on horseback came into view from around a bend. Deep in conversation, the two riders didn’t notice the strangers until they were only a few yards away.

“I’m telling you Bonnie, that did not–” The rider’s sentence was abruptly cut short when he noticed the group of strangers. The other rider, Bonnie, noticed at the same time, and they both drew their guns in one swift motion. “Hands up!”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold your horses there, buddy” Alvaro said, gun trained on the new arrivals. “I’m no mathematician, but it seems like we’ve got you outnumbered.”

“Who are you?” Bonnie asked. “Why are you here?”

At this, the older man raised his hands in an I surrender motion and slowly set his gun on the ground. “My name is Dr. Steven Reynolds.” He nodded towards the young woman. “This is my daughter Lucy. And these are Officers Alvaro and Jacobs. Please, we just want to talk.”

“Why are you here?” Bonnie repeated through gritted teeth.

Dr. Reynolds slowly reached into the side pocket of his backpack and brought out a laminated identification badge with his name and picture displayed on it. “My daughter and I are part of a group of researchers called the A.R.C.C. – the Administration for the Research and Containment of Cordyceps – an offshoot of the former Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta. And we believe there’s someone in your community who could be of great service to us.”

The riders considered Dr. Reynolds’ statement. Without taking her eyes off of the strangers, Bonnie said softly, “Greg, what do you think?”

The second rider thought for a moment. “We should probably let Maria decide, yeah?”

“Yeah, agreed.” Addressing the strangers, she said, “Toss your weapons over. We’ll take you to speak with our leader. No funny business.”

Jacobs and Alvaro remained unmoving with their weapons still drawn. Dr. Reynolds cleared his throat and gave them a pointed look.

“Sir, this could be dangerous. We don’t know anything about these people,” muttered Jacobs.

“We need to talk to them. Just do what they say and we can go from there,” Dr. Reynolds pleaded.

After a few tense moments, Jacobs and Alvaro lay their weapons on the ground, shortly followed by Lucy.

Bonnie dismounted her horse and ordered, “Good. Now keep your hands in the air and back up.” She and Greg collected the discarded weapons, careful to keep their attention trained on the four strangers. Once back on their horses, Greg directed the group to walk in front of them back in the direction the pair had come from.

The group did as instructed and made the trek along the creek in silence. By this time, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon and the shadows from the trees were getting longer and longer. Before long, though, they got their first glimpse of Jackson. 

Or, to be more precise, they could see the walls of Jackson, which were so large that they eclipsed whatever lay beyond them. In the growing darkness, large spotlights burned brightly on either side of the main gate.

Lucy squinted in the harsh light. She could make out some dark figures milling about, but couldn’t make out any details beyond that.

From behind her, Greg yelled to the figures, “Astrid, get Maria!”

A woman’s voice came from one of the dark figures on top of the wall. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, we’ve got it under control. Just get Maria,” Greg replied.

Within a matter of minutes, the enormous gates opened and a figure appeared. As she watched the figure approach, Lucy couldn’t help but notice the warm glow from string lights adorning the cabins beyond the gate.

As the figure got closer it became possible to make out some details about her. She was an older woman, with shoulder-length, graying blonde hair and a stern look on her face.

“Greg, Bonnie, who are these people?” She asked.

“They’re from Atlanta. Say they’re part of some research group. Wanted to talk to you,” Bonnie explained.

“What kind of research?” Maria asked the newcomers.

Sensing his opportunity had arrived, Dr. Reynolds explained, “We’re with the Administration for the Research and Containment of Cordyceps in Atlanta. I’ve spent my life studying fungi and their reproductive mechanisms, and I believe we’re right on the verge of figuring out how to fight these infections.”

Maria considered his words. “What does that have to do with Jackson?” she asked.

“We believe access to an immune subject would completely revolutionize our potential,” Dr. Reynolds explained matter-of-factly. It could have just been a trick of the light, but Lucy thought she saw a look of uneasiness flash across Maria’s features.

Greg gave an incredulous laugh. “That’s a good one, doc. I think if someone were immune we would know. There’s no one like that here.”

Dr. Reynolds looked between Greg and Maria. “Are you sure? Our records indicate–”

“Stop talking,” Maria cut him off.

“What should we do with them?” Greg asked. “Drag them away? Kill them? They’re obviously crazy.”

“Escort them to my house,” Maria ordered.

“I– what?” Greg asked in disbelief.

“Greg, just do what I say,” Maria told him in exasperation. “I’ll meet you there, I just need to get someone first.”

Obvious confusion lingered on his face, but with a nudge from Bonnie, he kicked into action. “Alright, you four. Follow us.”

After two stablehands retrieved the horses just inside the gate, the newcomers followed Greg and Bonnie down the main path as Maria hurried off in the other direction. After a short walk, they arrived at a quaint cabin in the center of town. As they entered the dwelling, Lucy wondered how many people lived there; it seemed too large for just one person. Rows and rows of books lined shelves along the walls and handmade throw blankets lay draped over the well-worn leather couches in the living room.

Greg crossed the room to throw a log in the fireplace as Bonnie motioned to the couches. “Make yourselves comfortable. She should be back soon.”

Lucy and her father awkwardly seated themselves on the edge of one of the couches as Jacobs and Alvaro remained standing behind them, sentinels on either side of the two sitting down. Bonnie sat at the kitchen table and cleaned her gun as Greg attempted to coax the fireplace to life. Lucy nervously wrung her hands in her lap. No one spoke.

After a few minutes of silence, the front door opened and Maria entered hurriedly, followed by a second person who appeared to be in her early 20s. As the pair sat themselves on the couch across from the group of newcomers, Lucy observed the new girl. Her face was dotted with freckles, and was framed by short auburn hair that hung loose around her shoulders. As the girl crossed her arms over her chest, Lucy noticed the girl’s left hand was missing two fingers. As the girl studied the group of strangers, her piercing green eyes landed on Lucy, who quickly looked away and hoped the girl hadn’t noticed her staring.

“Greg, Bonnie, you can go now. Thank you,” Maria said to the pair of patrols. As they exited the house, Maria cleared her throat and brought her attention to the group of strangers sitting in front of her. She folded her hands tightly and set them on her lap. 

“Alright, well… start talking.”

[always-andromeda]

v. sound of a love song | Joby Taylor x fem!Reader

Joby Taylor x fem!Reader

Word Count | 3,281

Summary | Despite there no longer being a need to stick around, you can't stop yourself from thinking about Joby Taylor, especially after a jarring discussion with William.

Author's Note | we're a third of a way through this ride babie!! very content with the pace and tone i've got going, i hope y'all enjoy it too.

Warnings | emotional abuse, slight manipulation, angst, slight sexual references, let me know if I need to add anything else!

Getting Joby's stuff had proved to be easier said than done. The roads were icy and you were worried about spinning out your tires. Luckily, it was late enough in the day that the sun had melted away a good portion of the snow. When you turned on the radio, you noticed Joby tapping his fingers against his jean clad thigh, his bobbing head following the beat of whatever song that played. As irritating as he could be, it was a heartwarming sight. It felt like you were seeing a part of him that was as true as when he'd told you about his daughter. Silence had easily fallen over you two. It made you loosen up a little, the anxiety of the meeting from that morning fading from your memory.

By the time you got to the original motel he'd been at, he was nervous about what he'd find. He hadn't told you about how he'd left Susan that snowy morning. He hadn't said a word about the messages she'd left on his phone over his week of self imposed isolation. The first day her crackly voice was filled with a coy confusion as she asked where he was. By day three she was a mess, this time asking what she had done wrong, what had she done to drive him away? He was relieved by day five when she finally told him to go fuck himself and that she was leaving him.

He and Susan had been up and down for a while. Every time one of them said they wanted to break up, the other would come crawling back. He knew the only way she would actually leave him is if he left the equation entirely. For a second, he worried that Susan had maybe smashed his guitar for good measure. Thankfully, though, the motel had it in their lost and found along with his notebook. He couldn't have been more grateful that they weren't simply thrown away.

His beat up car was covered with snow, the door was frozen shut. You helped him push at the door, trying to break the layer of ice that was keeping it in place. After a while of working at it you both heard a crack from inside the door. When you swung it open with a flourish, you started to slip backwards on the slushy, half melted ice that covered a lot of the parking lot. 

Now it was Joby's turn to make sure you didn't fall. He caught you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your legs were wobbly, threatening to make you collapse. You wanted to feel uncomfortable putting more of your weight onto Joby as held you close. But his gloved hands were warm and did a fantastic job keeping you steady. The edges of his soft hoodie were balled in your fists and the zipper track on either side pinched your sweaty palms. You swallowed hard when you felt the heat radiating from his chest as your face moved closer. His breath was visible and he quickly wet his lips with his tongue. Those chapped lips were inches from your own. Their bluish tinge had you wondering how cold they felt. It had you considering warming them up for him. Joby looked at you with a quirked brow, his expression checking if you were okay to stand on your own.

"Thanks," you offered a reserved smile and pushed back from his hold. Joby returned it, dipping his head as if to assure you that it was no problem. You were beginning to hate those little moments where you connected with him. They made you second guess the space you were attempting to impose between the two of you.

You couldn't figure out how to say goodbye to him. You weren't sure if you even wanted to. But if you kept lingering, you worried what kind of message that would send to him. You worried what kind of message you'd be sending yourself.

"I'm busy most weekdays until about four. But don't be afraid to call if you need anything." You said to him with an air of finality.

"Okay." He replied simply. He didn't know what kind of excuse he could come up with to see you again. Realistically, he shouldn't have to see you again. You'd gotten him another chance and fulfilled your side of the business. Now it was time for him to work again. But he didn't want you to go. He didn't want this to just be business.  Yet, he let you slowly make your way back to your car. Without blinking, he watched you get into the driver's seat, pull out of the parking lot, and fade into the afternoon deluge of snowflakes and fog.

You have to see her again.

Later on that night, you were still trying to push the day's events out of your head. As charming as Joby was, diving any further into him would only hurt you. Besides, it was all over now. You did your good deed to ward off the residual guilt you felt for sticking with William.

You pulled up to William’s house. He lived in a gated community, surrounded by other giant houses like his. He wasn’t expecting you that night, but the other option was to sit at home alone, feeling Joby's immense absence.

Approaching the front door, his security system sensed the movement. The speaker on his doorbell hummed to life and the blue light turned on. He was watching you from his cell phone now so you waved weakly at the camera. The quiet that followed perturbed you, as if it was his own eyes watching you so closely.

“Come on in,” Will’s grainy voice finally emanated from the speaker. You twisted the doorknob and entered. The massive front room featured floor to wall windows that displayed the kidney shaped pool, the immaculate tile work surrounding it, and his artificial lawn. You’d only seen him use the pool a handful of times before. He’d once remarked that it was a good conversation starter for parties. But you couldn't remember the last time he'd thrown a party here.

Will was probably upstairs finishing his nightly routine in his bathroom, you thought. You made your way up the curved stairway that led to the second floor. Will’s house wasn’t small by any means but the way he decorated the place with so little made you very self-conscious of your own existence in his space. Lining the hallway towards his bedroom were various abstract paintings and vinyl sleeves of albums made by artists he managed. They were all trapped behind glass and you’d bet that Will had no idea what he really thought of them. He knew the technical things. Knew how to analyze the composition, colors, and usage of negative space. Whatever intent that could be found outside of the principles was lost on him. Maybe that’s why he was merely a keeper of creative things instead of a creator of his own things.

Will was positioned at the wide mirror mounted behind the long marble counter.  As you entered, he stared at you through the mirror for a flash before his gaze fixed on himself again.

“Hey, sweetheart,” He spoke absentmindedly as he combed back his wet hair.

“Hey, have a good day?” You hopped up slightly, bracing your weight on your hands so you could sit on the bright white marble, almost sparkling under the soft bathroom light.

“Yeah, very productive.” He was transfixed on his own reflection, surveying a little scare that went through one of his eyebrows. He'd never told you where it had come from.

You fiddled with your fingers nervously, a thought popping into your head, "Hey, when were you gonna tell me you were going out of town?"

Will’s cold demeanor didn’t break. "Sorry, it completely slipped my mind."

"How? It's not like I was very far away this past week." You bit your lip, hoping to lighten the mood with your flirty tone. You were reminded of the night he'd gotten handsy with you after a performance earlier that week. You'd been making eyes at some guy at Magnolia and of course it had made Will jealous. It had worked him up so much that he fucked you in the back of your car that night. He asked you to drive him back to his place afterwards but you'd still felt satisfied with yourself. As distracted and distant as he could get sometimes, you liked being able to drive him crazy with the flip of a switch. It was one of the few ways you felt empowered by him.

He lifted his chin, rubbing the moisturizer he'd squeezed onto his hand down to his neck. "It was actually pretty sudden. My dad landed himself in the hospital and mom's still got that hip problem so they asked me to visit and take care of some things while they're out of commission."

That was the opening you needed. "Oh? I could come with you. I mean, I still haven't met your parents. I could always keep your dad company."

He shook his head and squinted at you in the mirror. "That really isn't necessary."

You slid your hand across the counter a little closer to his own. Your tone was earnest, hoping you could effectively plead your case. "I think it is. We've been seeing each other for so long that I think it's getting weird."

"Sweetheart, I don't need you following me around all the time. I'm starting to think that you don't trust me." he chuckled but the sound held none of the humor you were looking for.

"I trust you! I just don't understand why after literal years we've never once talked about meeting each other’s parents. I get that it's awkward but it's a step we'll have t--"

His words held no frills when he interrupted you, "Sweetheart, when did you start fucking Joby Taylor?" The atmosphere went sub zero in an instant.

The heavy accusation nearly knocked the breath from your chest. "Excuse me?"

He looked down at the porcelain sink in front of him, his hands gripped tighter on the edge of the counter. "It's a simple question." The sentence came out through his gritted teeth.

Your heartbeat got faster. Coming over seemed like more and more of a mistake as the conversation continued. "Where did that idea even come from?" You tried to brush it off. Tried to feign ignorance but he was already convinced of your guilt.

"It came from this." He turned to glare at you head on and rubbed at the side of your neck harshly. You’d let yourself forget the makeup covering the mark Joby left. After hours of driving around and working, of course the shitty drugstore makeup was starting to wear off. The damned red mark was peeking through, the smeared layer of concealer the color of your flesh doing little to hide it now. You could see the smudges Will's fingers had left in the makeup.

"You think I don't notice shit, do you? You think that if I'm not paying attention to you for more than five fucking seconds, that you can just fuck any guy who looks at you for a little too long? Is that why you've been so chipper lately? You've got a guilty conscience?"

"Baby, nothing happened. Last night, Joby was at Magnolia and he was absolutely wasted. I recognized him and offered to take him home because he literally had no one else, okay? He tried to kiss me once but I made him stop. And he apologized for it multiple times. He was drunk and it was stupid but nothing else happened." You were mumbling a mile a minute. Panic was kicking in as you hoped he would take the explanation seriously.

"This is why I think we need some time apart.” The sentence was uncharacteristically genuine. Like he was truly worried that you'd cheat on him. Like he believed for even a second that his grasp on you had slipped just enough. Was Joby that much of a threat to him?

"Wait, is this now a break? I thought you just had to do some things for your parents?" Either way, you'd do anything to stay in his good graces now. If he began to dislike you...you didn't know what you'd do.

"Not a break per say. More like a trial period. Because if I can't trust you to not fuck potential clients behind my back, how can I take you home to my parents?"

"Oh...yeah. That makes sense." You couldn't help the remorseful expression that formed on your face. You hadn't cheated, not really. But if he knew how close you had been to forgetting all about him he'd be far less forgiving of you. But what frightened you most was how long he had kept his knowledge of the mark secret. He must have seen it at the coffee shop that morning when he looked at you. The shade of the concealer must have left some sort of seam that he saw. And he kept that moment with him all day, stewing in it. Waiting until he could strike you down when you were alone. Despite his short stature and his unassuming appearance, it was this attitude that reminded you how dangerous he could be. And how vital it was that you kept being his good little pet.

Upon seeing your quiet contemplation, he pulled back, eyes softening slightly and voice going as smooth as velvet, "Listen, I am so proud of you. Joby Taylor, as uninspired as his band was, could be a powerhouse as a solo act. You've always been so good at spotting talent. Almost as good as me. That's why I trust you so much with the business stuff. But if we're gonna work things out as a couple...then we need some time apart. Just to make sure that I can still trust you in that area." You felt numb when he caressed your wrist but willed yourself to meet his cloudy blue-eyed gaze.

Will patted your cheek lightly. It did make sense. Taking a guy like Joby home wasn’t a good look, no matter how pure your intentions were. And maybe Will was right about needing space. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. It stung a bit…but you weren't in any position to question his needs.

You sniffed before asking him quickly, “Do you really think Joby has potential? You said his music was shit.” You had to know what he really thought about him.

“You know how prone I can be to hyperbole. Guys like him need to be humbled a bit. You tell them when they’re doing good, they start thinking they have a leg to stand on. Apply pressure and that’s when they flourish. I mean, look at you. Before me you were playing at a hole in the wall basement club and now, you’ve got actual work. All because I picked you when you were ripe and made you into something great. Of course Joby Taylor has potential, but only if he can listen and do what he’s told.”

“I think you’ll have a hard time with that.” You snickered softly, picturing his stubborn face and hardheaded nature.

He sounded actually confused, “What do you mean?”

"Joby can be a…challenge. You should see him play a show though. He can really bring a house down. He’s got this energy and attitude. It really is great.”

“Good. If he knows what’s best for him, he can channel all that energy into being a team player.” The next few minutes passed by with Will opening one of his cabinets and taking his nightly medications along with a dose of melatonin. His movements were calculated, a mere section of the well oiled machine that was his life. And now you were starting to question what section you inhabited within it.

With a final deep breath, Will spoke, “Alright, I’m going to bed. Whether or not you join me is up to you. I’m heading out early tomorrow.” He padded away in his boxers, footsteps barely making a sound against the tile flooring. Like a piece of decor on his countertop, you stayed glued in place. Normally, you would've went with him. You'd curl yourself around him, hoping that your warmth would show him how much you appreciate him. But you were sure you would be met with no such affection being returned.

You decided you weren't going to stick around. If you did, you would only look more needy to him. You'd gotten too attached to him. You were too invested in his life and his activities. He was only putting you in your place.

A full week passed with no phone calls from Will or even Joby. You went through each day, getting dressed, grabbing breakfast, going to work, going home, writing a little bit, making dinner, and then going to bed. Some days you avoided your apartment until it was too dark for you to stay out. The whole space seemed too quiet now. You put on music like you normally would, but even that did very little keep the loneliness you felt away. Will hadn't even called once. He sent a single text when he arrived at his parents place but you hadn't bothered to reply. You wouldn't know what to say in the first place.

Angel whined occasionally even when you touched her cheek, reminding her that you were still there. Perhaps it being just you and her for the most part in that small apartment had taken its toll on her. Having Joby around was just a break in your usual routine. It was only for one night. Nowhere near long enough to feel attached to him. Even though you hadn't found yourself wanting a person's presence more than this, you were trying to convince yourself it was just a phase that would soon pass. 

Yet it only seemed to get stronger. Yes, Joby hadn't been there long, but his entire being was palpable. His was the kind of personality that made everything following it seem a little dull. Even when he was radiating with depression and impulsivity he was a compelling force. So every time Angel stared at your front door, expecting it to swing open and reveal his lanky frame, you couldn't help but feel the same way.

When you found his lighter in your bathroom, you almost laughed a little. That was the most tangible proof of how he was haunting you. You figured that it had fallen out of his jean pocket when he was getting dressed that morning. You would trace your finger around the snake engraved into the cold gunmetal grey exterior. The shine on the surface had mostly rubbed away from all the years of Joby using it. You laid back on your couch where he once was, flicking the lighter on every few seconds, imagining Joby bringing it to a cigarette caught between his lips. You envisioned his lungs straining to take a long drag of it and expelling the smoke. 

You kept wanting to look up and see him sitting there in front of you. You needed to hear his gravelly, teasing voice, roughened by the hundreds of cigarettes he'd smoked over the years. You could picture his crooked smile like it had been drawn across his angular face with a leaky pen. And when your cell phone rang, you could practically feel his hand over yours again when you set the lighter down and answered it.

Taglist | @lokis-army-77 @angelicbruhl @pierres-new-spectacles @trelaney @babiezo @diveintothedanoverse

[zodiyack]

Rude! (3,000+ Follower Fic Special 1/3)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Billy stuff, lyrics, fluff

Song: Rude by Magic!

Words: 1,798

Summary: Billy's love for Hopper's daughter is too strong to be stopped by the tough Chief Jim Hopper. Despite being told "not in a thousand years", he plans to love her regardless.

Note: Thank you so so much! I love you all, and writing your ideas, as well as sharing mine with you, has been so fucking fun and amazing! I'm sorry for my lack of words, I wish being an author came in handy with writing this, however, all I can say is that I love you all from the bottom of my heart. I've seen people do shout-outs, and ask-related stuff with their follower things, and I may do that, I'm not sure. For now, I hope you enjoy this... Thank you all, again!

Also 1/3 means that there will be two other fics released for the 3,000+ follower present!

Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

"Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit. Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you. Knocked on your door with my heart in my hands, to ask you a question, 'cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man. Yeah."

Billy was freshly graduated, working as a lifeguard whilst his girlfriend worked her own job, both saving up for their chance to ditch Hawkins and move to California. Sweet Cali. Billy was excited to show the love of his life around the place he called home. Though, physically, he left the salty ocean and windy beach behind, the place never truly left him.

You could see it in his eyes. The waves crashing in his blue orbs. He swore the scent had just barely clung to his belongings; the smell of the tangy air that followed a majority of the state. Working at a pool was the closest he got to the memory of California. Chlorine was most certainly not the salted ocean waters, but with the circumstances, he decided it'd do.

The way his face lit up whenever he talked about his home...it made Y/n more and more excited to see it. His girlfriend had grown up in Hawkins, stayed there her whole life. Never once did the Hoppers leave Hawkins.

But the second that was introduced to Billy, he knew it had to change.

Although they were saving for a big move, Billy had...other things in mind with what to do with his first large pay-check (or series, rather. Working as a lifeguard didn't pay well with just one check). He began to work more shifts to make up for the money he'd spent, and one day after calling in for a day off, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Billy, stop messing with the tie."

"It's annoying." Hands slapped away his attempts of adjusting the black silk tie.

"Well it won't stop being annoying if you keep fucking it up."

For the first time in a long time, Neil Hargrove was calm. Not happy, not amused, not pissed off for some unjust reason- just calm. He wasn't wreaking havoc and he wasn't being an asshole to his son. Billy hadn't seen this side of his dad in quite some time, in fact, he thought something important was going on and he was about to fuck it all up. And then, Susan retreated to the living room with a camera and a freshly ironed suit.

"You're not putting me in that."

"And who asked for your opinion?" Neil deflected with a raised brow. One heavy sigh later and Billy was leaving the bathroom, dawning the whole black and white getup.

Susan clasped her hands over her mouth, a tear leaving her eye, "You look so handsome! Just like your dad!"

Billy rolled his eyes, "Great."

However, his careless attitude was swept under the rug when the blue Camaro pulled up to the police station, interrupting a clearly distressed Chief Hopper bickering with his daughter. Billy had to get himself together before stepping out of the car, jaw slack after seeing the beauty he got to call his date.

"Hello Mr-"

"Don't even try play nice with me, Hargrove. She's not going anywhere with you. End of story." Hopper kept his eyes trained on the blond, body tense like a snake preparing to strike it's prey.

Y/n grabbed Billy's arm, slowly directing him to the car, "And in the sequel, we find out I am going with Billy. End of that story."

"There is no 'sequel.' The writer got drunk and lazy." She paused, turning to face her father who stood tall, arms crossed and face unamused.

"So his daughter picked up where her father left off, and then the sequel was published and the two lived happily ever after, the end."

While her dad attempted to search for a line that would better hers and force her to stay, she pushed Billy toward the driver's side and slid into the car as fast as she could, rolling down the window as Billy started it up. "Bye! I'll be back before midnight!"

The two drove off toward the school, leaving behind a trail of dust and very, very, pissed off Hopper.

Prom was better than Billy thought it would be. He didn't want to go at first, but after Max found out and spoke to her mom about it (the little redhead a cupid-in-the-making), Neil pushed him to go (as he was "doing something else besides being a lazy-no-good rebel"). It was then that he called Y/n and asked if she'd be going.

The suit came in handy. Clashing with his rocker aesthetic, he put it back on once more. The once-annoying tie proved to be somewhat okay in the end.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude?

With a deep breath, he ran-over the conversation in his head once more. Like a script for an actor, he had thought of every possible outcome and every possible line for him to face it with. He almost chickened out as his fist rose to the door, but it was too late, for his knuckles rapped against it before he realized he was even knocking.

El opened the door, eyes wide when she saw the familiar mullet and button-down. "Papa..." She muttered as she backed away and out of view.

Hopper traded places with her, his lazy expression sobering up instantaneously, replaced with a grumpy scowl. "Hargrove."

"Mr. Hopper, sir."

"What are you doing on my front porch?"

He swallowed roughly, palms sweaty against his sides. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"You seem to be doing just that right now, Hargrove." Hop crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

Well, this was certainly not something Billy had thought of. He was on panic mode internally, attempting to find any response that could save his hide and accomplish what he set out to do. Unfortunately, the word-vomit button seemed to be misplaced under the button labeled "help".

"I'd like to marry your daughter, sir."

Hop's eyes grew just as big in size as El's had when she opened the door. He choked on his own surprise, coughing it off, then glaring at the boy in front of him. "Over my dead body, Hargrove. If that's all, I'd strongly advise you to get off of my fucking porch while you're still alive."

I hate to do this, you leave no choice; can't live without her. Love me or hate me, we will be boys- standing at that alter. And we will fly away, to another galaxy, you know. You know she's in love with me, she will go anywhere I go-

"Billy, he's just stubborn."

"No, no, I don't think he likes me."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her boyfriend's back. He hadn't told her of his proposal plans, only that Hop seemed to have it out for him. "It'll take time, but he'll warm up to you!"

"It's been how many years since he's met me?"

"To be fair, your reputation wasn't doing you any good until now..."

"It's not like that was fucking obvious." He slouched further down in the front seat of his Camaro. To Billy, all hope was lost. If he couldn't get Hopper to give him his blessing, he was sure he'd lose his goddamned mind.

Y/n frowned. Her frown flipped around as an idea popped into her head, her lips finding Billy's knuckles and quirking his attention. "Even if he never likes you, I'm not going anywhere."

Billy laughed softly, "he'll fucking kill me if you go against him."

"Eh, that's only if he can catch us."

"You're out of your fucking mind, Y/n Hopper."

"I know."

The rest of the night was spent in the Camaro, of course, doing one of Billy's favorite pastimes. By the time the sun rose, Billy was sneaking a kiss to a giggling Y/n before dropping from her window in the cabin and running to his car, parked far enough that Hop or El wouldn't notice. He blew her one more kiss, which she pretended to catch, then he broke into a sprint.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe; there was still a chance.

His knuckles hit the door again, shifting on his feet nervously. It swung open to reveal Hopper, an unimpressed look bringing no surprise Billy's way. It was quite expected, honestly.

"What." His tone made it clear he wasn't up for fucking around.

"Mr. Hopper, if you just give me one chance to prove to you that-"

"No, no, no, no, no. Let me make it very clear to you that I want you to have nothing to do with my daughter whatsoever. No marriage, no friendship, I don't even approve of you guys fucking or whatever-"

"We're in a serious relationship, sir. It's nothing like you think it is."

This made Hop laugh. He continued to do so, holding his stomach, until he realized Billy was unamused. "Oh, you're serious?... My answer is still no, Hargrove. My answer will always be no. Go find someone else's daughter's heart to break. You're not hurting mine."

"It's not like-"

Before he could even get the words out, he was met with a door in his face. Turned down, again.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, 'cause the answer's still no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude, rude?

Again, again, and again, Billy incessantly pleaded with Hopper. Different tactics were all met with the same answer; rejection.

He held up a sign outside the cabin, only for Hopper to close the curtain and chuckle as he sipped his coffee.

He asked at the door again, only for Hop to threaten to give him a black eye (which was met with "aren't you the sheriff? Isn't that illegal?").

He raced past the police station, Max leaning out the window with another sign, only for Hop to threaten them with holding cells.

He even went as far as to ask Max and El to help, but Hopper had none of that, and sent Max home with a rant full of nos.

However, if Jim Hopper thought any of it would get it into Billy's head that getting his blessing was just not happening- he was as wrong as Nancy when she claimed not to have feelings for Jonathan.

Billy had another plan in mind, and this one was impossible to say no to.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend- but no still means no!"

"Hopper." Billy stood before his desk, interrupting his nice date with a delicious doughnut, and earning a very annoyed glare. "I got Miss Byer's blessing. Aren't you two a thing?"

"You son of a-"

"I got Eleven's too."

"Hargrove, I'm gonna-"

"Before you cuss me out, I think you should know that I've got a stable job, an interview with a mechanic so I have a job when the pool closes for the winter, and I've got a house on the market I'm looking at. I'm devoted to your daughter and she's devoted to me. You may not like me, but I think you're a great dad, better than the one I was unfortunately stuck with. You raised a strong and amazing woman. She's incredible and I admit, she deserves better than me-"

"You don't have to say that twice." Hopper huffed, crossing his arms.

"I know she deserves so much better than me, I'm surprised she's even with me too. But she loves me, and I think you can see that. I love her too. I would never, in a million years, break her heart."

Jim stayed silent for a few minutes. The silence brought uneasiness to Billy, but that was intentional on Hopper's behalf. He finally piped up with a cough, clearing his throat, before his piercing eyes met Billy's blue orbs.

"I'll hold you to that, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude?

Bonus:

(after the wedding)

"What was that about a no?" Billy quipped with his infamous smirk.

"You're lucky I'm sheriff, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude?

[gravegroves]

"steve kills neil" hell yeah, now we're talking

Lol, you wanna read it? Here ya go:

The newspaper article never mentions why Steve Harrington drove to Old Cherry Lane one early December morning and caved Neil Hargrove’s skull in with a nail studded bat. Though there are... rumours.

It doesn’t mention Neil's son -- well, it does, but it doesn't mention how the day before, Billy had limped and later crawled his way to Loch Nora, half frozen, barely conscious and almost unrecognisable to his boyfriend when he answered the scrambled knocking on the door.

(It doesn't mention how unsteady Billy was on his feet for weeks after, how the hearing in his right ear was almost completely gone and never really improved much in the years since or the seven -- seven -- broken ribs, the dislocated shoulder or the fractured collarbone.)

It doesn't mention how Steve had held Billy until he passed out from pain and exhaustion, barely able to breathe, but still able to make Steve swear not to take him to a hospital.

It doesn't mention Steve panicking for two hours. Listening to Billy's rasping breaths and not knowing what to do. Or Steve picking Billy up and, in a feat of pure desperation, carried him to his car. How he drove like a bat out of hell to a clinic two towns over and hoping to Christ that they'd be able to help.

It doesn't mention the one nurse who takes one look at Steve clutching Billy's limp hand and understands. Who calls her brother doing his residency at the local hospital and tells him to sneak out an IV bag and to come check out a patient. Or the other nurse who keeps the clinic open and stays with them all night, checking on Billy's concussion every few hours and squeezes Steve's shoulder whenever he looks seconds from breaking apart.

It doesn't mention Steve driving Billy home in the early hours of the morning -- taking him up to his room and laying him on the bed where Billy had laid many times before. How Steve had tried to touch Billy, to comfort him, but there isn't a patch of skin left unmarked or uninjured for him to run his fingers over. How he runs from the room to scream into his fist.

It doesn't mention Steve sprinting to his car, driving in silence -- so carefully. Wanting to get to his destination unfollowed and unbothered.

It doesn't mention Max answering the door, how she watches him standing on the porch with the nail bat clutched in his hand, or how she silently lets Steve move past her into the house and gently push her outside before he closes the door. Or how she walks down to sit on the curb beside their driveway. Refusing to cry.

---

It does mention the screams that startle a neighbour. 

It does mention Susan Hargrove being shoved and locked into Billy's room after the first swing incapacitates her husband.

It does mention that Neil Hargrove's head had resembled more of a pulpy soup by the time Steve hits hard enough to embed the nails into the floor and leaves it there, poking up from the mess like a tombstone.

It does mention Steve walking calmly out onto the lawn, covered in blood and bits of brain to tell Max to go to the Sinclair's and to stay there.

It does mention Steve going home to change before turning up at the bank, draining his account and as much from his parents' as he can manage before he and Billy disappear.

It does mention the last place they were rumoured to have been seen: five states away, sitting in a diner and holding hands across the table.

It does mention the fact that the boys have yet to be found, some four years later.

---

It doesn't mention the people they left behind.

It doesn't mention that Nancy Wheeler chooses to abandon her dreams of becoming a journalist. That publishers are only ever interested in her stories if she's willing to talk about Steve Harrington. Her ex boyfriend. The Killer King of Hawkins High.

It doesn't mention how Steve's parents sell the house and leave Hawkins for good. How his father loses his job and his mother her bankroll. How they get divorced and never speak again and it's like their little charade of a family had never existed at all.

It doesn't mention that Tommy and Carol never regain any significant social standing at Hawkins High or that they leave the town not long after graduation. They are the couple that hung out with a killer and his suspected accomplice, possible gay lover, and in Hawkins, that's all they'll ever be.

It doesn't mention how Jim Hopper spends sleepless nights talking himself out of tampering with evidence. How one day, in desperation, he asks El to find either of the boys, but only gets a shake of her head in response and a firm: "Better like this."

It doesn't mention how Susan Hargrove, soon to be Mayfield once again, moves herself and her daughter to a different house. How she tries to repair the relationship with her daughter as best as she can, but the damage is mostly done. 

It doesn't mention that Claudia Henderson cries herself to sleep for many nights after, thinking of all the times she let that boy near her precious Dusty.

It doesn't mention how Dustin still talks into his walkie talkie at night, tuned to a private frequency that never answers him back. How he buys a bottle of Farrah Fawcett hair spray and uses it religiously despite varied results. How sometimes, when the party meets up, he and Max will lock eyes and share a private moment of pain that neither of them can talk about out loud.

It doesn't mention the envelope Max receives two days before her graduation and three weeks before she moves out for good. It contains a photograph of two young men kissing in front of a huge ornate building, holding up their hands with matching rings.

It doesn't mention how Max smiles at the writing on the back, tucks it away for safekeeping and wonders if she can save enough to go to Europe before her first summer break at college. How Max already knows Dustin will join her.

---

It doesn't mention that Billy and Steve live happily ever after.

But they do.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Thursday 29 March 1838

7 ½

11 50

very fine morning F53° and sun out at 8 35 am counted every clock last night from 12 to 3 inclusive and did not even slumber till near 4 – the room hot tho’ I had partly taken off fire before getting into bed – A- wrong  I had mentioned after dinner what the gardener had said about two men and a boy and added that if we had a garden at Cliff Hill it would cost us as much   I saw this was going wrong  so being sleepy leaned back in my chair and did sleep at last but heard her sobbing aloud soon after my eyes were closed and she hardly spoken when I went in to coffee what a temper  shall I escape this time or before getting abroad again? wrote the above of this morning till 8 40 – then breakfast A- terrible  surely it will end in a parting this time! came upstairs soon after 9 – read last nights’ paper – Had Edward Chapman upstairs – said Mrs. Oddy had told Miss Walker that if he went away today he would have to return to meet his daughter from Liverpool – Edward said he was sorry Mrs. Oddy had named this – in fact, it was clear he would rather go – in short, he said so, as he had written to his wife – he owned he could make more at the George Inn than his wages here – somehow the man is more glad to go than I think or perhaps than I expected he would have been – when A- told me this morning, I asked if she would speak to him or if I should tell him to stay – her answer took me by surprise – no! she was quite indifferent about it and seemed indifferent about everything here – I cannot understand it – I asked if anything was the matter – if anyone had annoyed her – if she was well – no answer – How extraordinary! – this will not do – had just written so far at 10 am then at Booths’ accounts till 10 50 and then went out – with Robert and his son James Mann at the footpath and about – Jack Green levelling after my own and George N-‘s cart with scale from Listerwick as yesterday – William Lord at the Laundry road drain finishing out, and Ben with John Booth cutting hay (in the Godley paddock) the 2 carts each bringing up a load the last thing tonight – came in about 12 ½ to Mr. Jubb who came to see if he could do anything for us before our setting off and A- had sent to him last night to see Susan the housemaids’ ankle – weak from an old sprain – this would do very well with a little bandaging and embrocation – I briefly explained the change of plans, adding I feared it was not for good – and that perhaps none of the parties would be really pleased by it – I feared it was not for A-‘s good – then out again – about – with Robert and the other 2 (James M- and William Lord) at the drain in the flower garden at the foot of the terrace steps till Mr. Harper came about 2 ½ and with him from then to 6 – looking over bills –checking his account with mine etc. etc. – he did not wish to raise my expectations too much but thought the Northgate hotel would be worth £700 per annum at the end of the five years – (may it then let for £600 per annum!) mentioned having let a house at Bradford just converted into an Inn belonging to Mrs. B....... of Knaresbro’ for £170 per annum – the house let for £90 a year – the lady laid out £600 and the tenant £400 in painting papering bell-hanging finding all fixtures etc. etc. and the tenant insures for a certain sum and does all and pays all this for a lease of only 5 years – H- valued the old house at Northgate at £2000 and the present outlay at £8000 and rent to be in amount £1200 for the next 5 years – It is a terrible job – H- owned that he should do as I did – not paint the casino in the £200 way first intended - no! I have laid out enough – I said I thought Mr. Parker  had been hard upon me in letting the hotel – he had said it was the custom of the country for me to paint, paper, bell-hang, fixture set etc. etc everything even down to Insurance that it was not the custom for the landlord to do at Bradford and that H- said Mr. Greenwood and Booth both agreed it was not the custom for the landlord to do here – c’est égal – I shall hardly forget Mr. Parker in this business – Mr. Carr has sent 30 horses to the hotel – out with H- when he went away – had walked with him as far as the glen-bridge – asking him to draw me up his opinion of the antiquity of Shibden hall – he says the hall is very old – before the Tudor time for in that era the timber houses were set on stone walling as high as a man – 6ft. high – from the ground which got to be the height of the 1st story or ground floor – that all buildings where the timber was near the ground were evidently more ancient than the Tudor period which ought begin with Henry the sixth – Referred me to Dr. Whitakers’ remarks in his history of Manchester on the old timber houses in that neighbourhood – and see some remarks in Dr. W-‘s history of Whalley – H- said he would give me an imaginary sketch of the hall as he supposed it was more [ancientry] before the alteration of walling up the front and putting in the present window – said his evenings for the last 6 months had been spent on a paper on polychromy (in architecture) to be read to the York philosophical society – that he had nearly done this paper, and would set to about Shibden – said I thought I could prove it to have been an inhabited house 4 centuries ago, and mentioned my uncles’ having seen when a boy a date at Copley hall of 16 years before the conquest and this place and that and Elland hall always said to be contemporary – out with Robert Mann till 6 ¾ - dressed – dinner at 7 10 – Edward gone – Susan waited – nor A- nor I spoke except I to ask her what sort of pudding  - I was sleepy after my restless night last night and on leaving the dining room came up to the blue room and lay down on the bed and slept comfortably till 10 25 – A- terrible  I shall have a thousand pounds more to pay I see for Northgate my thoughts during the day restless  I must be off as immediately as possible this is not time for dawdling I must lay out no more till I am recruited my thoughts turn to living quietly in or near Paris   the sooner I get rid of A- the better at all rates she will not add much to my happiness what a temper that has thus blighted all prospect of comfort with her! very fine day – F45° at 10 ¾ pm partly prepared for bed and wrote all but the 1st 18 lines of today till 11 25 pm

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - The Girls and Their Ghosts

For @evaroze, a sweet gal who inspired me with her super kawaii art. I hope you enjoyed it! And a special shout out goes to @stephreynaart and her comic, who never fails to make me laugh and I couldn’t help but include it in this piece. (There may or may not be a part 2...)

(slight name change to better fit a cute headcanon)

~~~~~~~~~~

“MOVE! MOVE! OUTTA THE WAY!”

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Oh, dear me!”

“SHADDUP! MOVE!”

“Stanley, calm down.”

“PICK UP THE PACE, SIXER, I AIN’T MISSING THIS!”

Ford rolled his eyes with a smile on his worn face, weather-beaten and tired, but he continually ran after his twin. Despite the fact that their bodies would hate them for this later, they ran through the hospital as fast as they could. They weren’t this late when Soos had his son. Luck just hadn’t been by their side this time.

After battling a fierce storm to reach the coastline, finding the Stanmobile and having to explain why they were picking it up earlier than scheduled, racing to the center of the state, and parking in an emergency handicap spot, the old sailors in their mid-eighties used all of their strength to reach the Gravity Falls Hospital in time. While Ford was beyond jubilant, Stan was the most frantic and spirited, but that didn’t mean Ford didn’t punch three jerks in the face when confronted at the docks and that he would have no issue using a recovered memory gun to wipe some cops’ memories of a speeding Diablo.

Stan jammed the button for the elevator a few times, decided it was too slow, and bolted to the stairs. Ford followed, pulling out his magnet gun, and called, “Stanley, grab hold of me!”

Inside the stair-covered hallway, Stan grabbed his brother tightly and Ford shot upward, zapping them up a few floors and they landed like cats at the door to the sixth floor. They ran down the hall and Stan counted the doors. “Four… five… six… damn it, where’s eighteen?!”

“Grunkle Stan?”

Stan would recognize that voice anywhere. He ran faster (Ford didn’t think that was even possible) and around the corner Mabel, Gideon, Soos, and Dipper and Mabel’s parents were in a small waiting lobby. Mabel skipped to the old men happily, letting her orange-haired fiancee stay behind at a safe distance, and she hugged them tightly. Ford and Stan squeezed her tightly, haven’t seen her since the summer, the old tradition of a long reunion still going strong, and they soon let her go to have a look at the beautiful young lady with long brown hair, eyes that matched their own, and black lips with pink eyeshadow.

“Well?” Ford huffed, low on oxygen.

“She’s fine, everything’s okay.” Mabel giggled and patted their shoulders. “Any minute now.”

“We did miss it?” Stan checked hopefully.

“Nope!” Mabel said cheerfully. “They wanted to be alone for this, but when the baby’s born we can all go in.”

Stan held his pounding chest and collapsed into a chair. Soos was there to pat his shoulder and welcome him home, to which he immediately asked where his grandson was and if he was too cool for him now, but Soos just laughed and said that Melody would bring him once everything had calmed down.

An hour or so passed before nurses and the doctor started to leave the room. A few more minutes passed with everyone watching the door carefully and soon a very tired-looking Dipper emerged, pinching the bridge of his nose with a bandaged hand. It was amazing how much he resembled the men before him, sturdy and strong like his Grunkle Stan, but still fluffy and favored layers of clothing, like his Grunkle Ford. Like most men in the family, he required glasses, which he happily sported, alongside a small golden band on his left hand and a brown fur coat an old friend had given to him as a wedding present. Dipper had a little bit of stubble, promising a short old dutch beard and possibly a mustache (Stan prayed not a stupid mustache), and despite the bags under his eyes and the tiniest bit of redness that circles his soft brown spears, the windows to his soul sparkled with pure joy and his smile was radiant.

In an instant, his twin sister ran to him and he engulfed her in a huge hug, one that swept her off her feet and spun her around and made her giggle like the child she was at heart. Mabel eventually let him go to ruffle his hair and then asked, “So…”

Dipper grinned, his eyes sweeping the area to see who had arrived in time, and he croaked, his throat thick with emotion, “It’s a girl.”

Mabel squealed and bounced like there were springs at the bottom of her heels. Their parents high-fived and the new grandmother looked close to tears. Soos punched Gideon’s shoulder with a smile. Stan sneakily handed Ford a ten dollar bill, both grinning widely at the arrival of their first great-grandniece. God, that made them sound ancient.

“Congratulations, Dipper!” Ford cheered and clapped a six-fingered hand on his shoulder.

“So when can we see the little princess?” Stan asked with a huge smile.

“Right now,” Dipper said and opened the door for the small crowd.

Stan slipped his beanie off and held it with hands that trembled with excitement. Every time he was allowed in a delivery room had been special. Dipper and Mabel being born had been both painful and joyful, being the first new family members that didn’t hate him or pity him. Jacob Stanley Ramirez’s birth had been honorable with tears and hugs and no hint of pain, though Stan never became a father like he had once dreamed, he was now a grandfather. Now, his own little niblings had a baby to call their own. Stan had been terrified that he might not live to see this day, so he was grateful that not only he got to be here, but that Ford was here with him.

In the bed, freshly cleaned, tired, and glowing with pride and love, Pacifica held a pink bundle in her arms. Dipper was by her side soon enough, rubbing her shoulders and kissing her forehead in thanks. Her smirk immediately went to the old men, but it was too distracted by a trembling, squealing woman her age.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Paz, she’s perfect!”

“You haven’t even seen her yet, Mabel.”

“Don’t care, she’s my niece, therefore she’s perfect!”

“Well, come here and meet your goddaughter.” Dipper chuckled.

Mabel was suddenly deadly still, the still-est she had been all day. With the color drained from her face and making her look like a vampire thanks to her mixture of pink and black outfit, she whispered, “I’m… I’m…”

The new parents nodded with supportive smiles. “No one’s better for the job, hon.” Pacifica said earnestly.

Mabel could only bite her lip as she stood by her twin and peered down at the bundle.

Stan and Ford stood by her side, now at the foot of the bed, and awed at the sight. A teeny tiny head was swaddled in the midst of the soft blanket. It was like when Stan saw those newborn twins all over again. A blank canvas with small resemblances to their parents. Stan swore this gal had that Pines’ baby button nose and she somehow already had that perfect Northwest skin complexion. His opinion may be biased, but who cares? This baby was the most beautiful Stan had ever seen (right next to his other kids, duh).

“Wow…” Stan choked. “She’s p-p-pretty.”

“Stanley, are you crying?” Ford chuckled.

“Shaddup.” He said weakly and wiped his wet eyes with his arm.

Pacifica smiled warmly and offered, “Wanna hold her, you old fart?”

With a quick cough and a clearing of his throat, Stan nodded and sat in the offered chair by Pacifica’s side. At this point the old man was an expert on accepting babies and how to hold them properly. He had been practicing since he was seventeen and got to hold Shermie’s son, who today became a grandfather and looked ready to fight Stan for a chance to hold the baby.

However, this time was different. Stan couldn’t be selfish with his time with her. She had tons of other people to love her and make sure she was happy. She didn’t need him. So much unlike Stan, who fought Shermie for five more minutes to hold the twins, and who held Jacob for hours as he cried silently, he let Ford hold the newborn after a few minutes and was content in watching. The rapid trip had tired him out.

“What’s her name?” Ford asked his grandnephew.

“Angelina Susan.” Dipper said proudly.

Everyone was merciful enough to ignore how wet Pacifica’s eyes were.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford had been having a conversation with Dipper over mugs of coffee while Stan entertained Angel when the conversation accidentally morphed into a monologue of Dipper explaining the progress of his ghost-hunting show to his old idol. Ford was listening. Or, half-listening.

As it was customary, Stan found a new snuggle buddy by letting Dipper’s daughter sleep on his chest, a hand over Angel protectively. The baby was almost a year old now and slept with her thumb in her mouth with dirty-blonde hair that she inherited from both parents. Ford smiled at the bright child. While Stan had always been amazing with children, there was something special about Angel that Ford couldn’t quite shake. Seeing her so happy and at peace made him feel the same way.

Later that night, Ford was in the kitchen for something to drink when he heard the start of a baby’s cries. He and Stan were staying with Dipper and Pacifica for the holidays this year while the Mystery Shack was undertaking repairs, and so the old sailor had no issue assisting with the baby if he could to repay the parents for their hospitality by letting them sleep. In his cozy blue flannel pajamas, Ford quietly entered Angel’s nursery and peeked inside, his ears cursed with the stressed cries and he was determined to solve whatever problem the baby had and to put her at ease.

Angel’s cries morphed into whimpers at the sight of the old man above her crib. Her lip trembled and she held her little arms up for him. Ford chuckled and gently scooped her up. “Oh, it’s alright, my dear. It’s alright. I’m here.” He cooed softly and rubbed her back, letting Angel rest her tiny head on his shoulder. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Ford ran through his big head for a diagnosis of Angel’s distress. No bad smells, no sign of pain or injury. She might be hungry, Ford thought, but just as he was about to leave with her for the kitchen to try to find some milk to give her, the aged scientist noticed something. Angel was holding him very tight. Though she was no longer wailing, she was still crying, even trembling a little, but she did not feel cold. Ford re-positioned Angel to feel her forehead, but she did not feel warm. He then saw her beautiful baby blue eyes and knew what was wrong. Angel had been terrified by something.

Ford smiled softly and held her by his shoulder again to rub her back and he swayed slightly where he stood. “It’s alright, it’s alright, my lovely. It was only a nightmare. They all go away eventually, trust me.”

He and Angel slowly settled into the rocker for restless babies and Ford gently pushed back and forward. Angel was no longer crying now, still clinging onto her uncle’s pajamas tightly, like he was a lifeline, but she was starting to calm down and understand that she was safe. “That’s it, my little angel, that’s it.” Ford praised her quietly.

A quick glance outside told him that it had started to snow in the middle of the night. He smiled at the idea of playing with Angel in the morning, wrapped up like Eskimos and enjoying the gift nature had provided. An old song came to mind and so Ford hummed it quietly to the baby. Perhaps Ma had sung it a fair few times, or maybe it was a brand new tune Ford had made up. Who knows? Regardless, soon Angel was fast asleep and the old man had no strength to get up, so Dipper would simply have to find them in the morning and sneak a picture for jokes and memories.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three years passed. Angel was a bubbly, curious child with a pair of baby twin sisters, Stella and Estelle. It was nice to know Dipper and Mabel wouldn’t be the only set of twins in the family. Mabel and Gideon had their own family, Jacob had even grown up and graduated high-school just a few weeks ago. Stan was beyond proud, and the last four years on land with Dipper and his family to help around the house and practically work at the Mystery Shack had brought its own joys as did sailing around the world. But he was tired.

Ford held his hand when he didn’t have the strength one morning to get out of bed. They had been silent, simply enjoying each other’s presence, for they had already said everything that needed to be said. Not only said it, but said it a million times in the years they had spent sailing around the world and retiring in Gravity Falls together. But Ford wanted to assure his brother of one thing, detecting how hard he was fighting to stay.

He cleared his throat, squeezed his twin’s hand, and croaked, “You can let go, Stanley.”

Stan chuckled weakly. “Nah, I ain’t ready to go. Believe it or not, there’s still something I wanna stick around for.”

Ford smiled at that. He had feared that after so many years of neglect and only staying alive because he had something to do, that when there was nothing to do, he wouldn’t have the will to stay. He was beyond relieved to discover he was wrong. “What is that?”

Stan gave his brother a cocky look, despite being so tired and weak. “My family, Sixer. I’m not leaving them anytime soon.”

Ford found that he completely understood, and privately agreed. “Neither am I.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Not many people thought Ford would last long after Stan died, but the eldest twin managed to stick around for five years before he died of a peaceful heart attack in his sleep. The Pines family were saddened, but they were also happy that the brothers were reunited and that they had both lived full and happy lives. And they knew them well enough to know they would not have been pleased if everyone was sad and made their names taboo.

Angel remembered her grunkles vividly. She was eight when Grunkle Ford died and she took it hard, being very close to him and admiring him like her father before her had, but her family helped her get through it and Dipper assured her daughter that he was happy. That was all Angel cared about.

There were times she enjoyed being a big sister, and times she didn’t. Stella and Estelle caused so much trouble and were the biggest handful anyone had ever seen. Ford once said before he died that the girls gave him and Stan a run for their money. It was like the girls had unknowingly accepted a challenge, and now were pure trouble-making terrors that kept Gravity Falls interesting thanks to their father’s curiosity and their mother’s attitude.

One night, when Angel was ten, she left her room for a glass of water or milk, something to satisfy her thirst, and she tiptoed across the dark house with a smile, the glow of the moon creating squares on the floor through the windows, perfect for quiet hopscotch. Angel stopped at the fireplace that showcased so many old photos. There was the picture of Mommy and Grandma Susan in the diner, waitresses together, and pictures of weddings, fishing trips, holidays, and just hanging out with Aunt Mabel and Uncle Gideon and Uncle Soos and Jacob. One picture Angel carefully picked up and smiled at.

She was only a baby in this picture, maybe a few weeks old, and Grunkle Ford was holding her as he sat in an armchair (she had seen that same chair at the Mystery Shack), with Grunkle Stan leaning against the seat, ruffling his brother’s hair and smiling at the baby. Angel became a little sad; she didn’t remember Grunkle Stan as well as she remembered Grunkle Ford, but she loved them both and missed them. She took the framed photograph with her into the kitchen and looked at it as she drank her water at the table, remembering all she could.

Angel could remember the sound of Grunkle Ford’s voice. It was low and heavy, but soft and comforting, like a weighted blanket. He used that voice to read her stories, using a different voice or accent for each character and even doing the sound effects, whether Angel asked him to or not. She could also remember him and Aunt Mabel knitting and showing Angel how to do it. She didn’t have the patience to learn, but she liked watching the yarn magically turn into clothing and listening to the two swap stories.

Angel can remember Grunkle Ford’s shadow puppets. He was the best at it, and sometimes he would shine a light against a wall, build a mini pillow fort for Angel to rest on, and make pictures on the wall with his special hands. Susie had a vague memory of once saying she wishes she had six fingers so she was more like Grunkle Ford. And he may or may not have started to cry, though Angel to this day had no idea why.

As for Grunkle Stan she mostly only remembered him through Grunkle Ford; Angel was only three when Grunkle Stan died, and all she could remember independently was a very distinct laugh and his smile, but she could remember everything Grunkle Ford said about him and the stories he told. Everyone always said how great Grunkle Stan was, despite being a conman. Angel grinned at the idea of having such amazing relatives, both old men cunning and crafty and willing to do anything for their families. She really missed them.

Angel sighed and left her empty glass alone to put the picture back on the fireplace. As she passed the TV, a video tape fell out of a box below the screen, though she could have sworn she had never touched it. Angel grinned at that; she had a feeling something funny had happened before, but she told herself grief was imagining something that wasn’t there.

She picked up the tape and grinned to find a familiar cursive handwriting on some tape on the top of the black box. Angel quickly slid it into the very old machine and turned on the TV quietly, then sat on the carpeted floor before the glowing screen. What she saw made her jubilant and she had to bite her lip to keep from squealing.

Thirty minutes later she hurried to her sisters’ bedroom and shook them away, climbing on the ladder of the bunk-bed to reach Estelle and kicking Stella awake. “Girls! Get up!”

“What?” Estelle snorted, rubbing her eyes.

“Why?” Stella groaned, burying her head under her pillow.

“There’s something you gotta see, now c’mon!” Angel urged and eventually pulled the twins by their wrists out of bed and practically dragged them out of the room.

Stella and Estelle were a bit less pissed when they saw the TV was on and all Angel wanted was for them to watch something, so they settled on the couch with their sister and Angel re-winded it to a certain point. The twins gasped to find an uncle they didn’t remember on screen.

“My name’s Stanley Pines.” He said seriously, in his beanie, boxers, slippers, and stained undershirt, sitting in his famous armchair. “I was sixty-seven when I made this tape, but now… I’m dead.” He said in a low voice with a strained face and wide eyes, then wiggled his fingers and asked with laughter in his throat, “Trapped in a box underground! Pretty spooky, huh? Haha!”

There it was! That laugh Angel could so distinctly remember. She grinned at hearing that laugh again and glanced down at her sisters, both wide-eyed with wonder.

A sharp voice that was slightly more recognizable interrupted Grunkle Stan’s laugh. “Stanley!” Grunkle Ford scolded behind the camera, while Grunkle Stan rolled his eyes. “Stan, this is for future Pines generations, the children Dipper and Mabel will have that we might not get to meet, their grandchildren! Surely you have a message you want to leave them.”

“Alright alright, I do.” Grunkle Stan said and smiled at the camera as he pointed at his audience. “Remember to work hard and that family always comes first. Also,” Now Grunkle Stan grew slightly more serious again. “I have several pounds of gold and millions in unmarked bills in a safe buried under the Shack, next to the…” His face suddenly dropped, and then their grunkle went on to over-exaggerate, putting a hand to his chest to fake a heart attack, then proceeded to limp over his chair with his tongue sticking out, making dying noises.

As the twins were laughing loudly and probably waking up their parents and Angel tried to shush them but was giggling nonetheless, the camera spun around and Grunkle Ford appeared on screen. “I’m sorry, kids, but this is what I have to work with.” Then he raised an eyebrow annoyingly as Grunkle Stan continued to make dying noises.

Angel paused the TV as the girls tried to silence their laughter, but despite Stella biting her shirt and Estelle holding her breath until she was blue, all three couldn’t help but laugh, not only from the comedic scene recorded for them, but the overwhelming joy they had from seeing their grunkles. Not only seeing their grunkles, but via a message they had created just for them.

Stella wiped a teary eye and asked, “Is that it?”

Angel shook her head. “No, there’s thirty minutes of Grunkle Ford just talking to us and showing us their favorite things, even the Stan O’ War. That was just my favorite part.”

“Forget sleep!” Stella said and ran off for the kitchen. “Start the movie over! I’ll make popcorn!”

“I’ll get the drinks!” Estelle volunteered and followed her twin to the kitchen.

Angel smiled, loving the idea of seeing her family again, and alone in the room, she could feel a presence she couldn’t quite explain, but she looked at the old men in the photograph above the fireplace and whispered, “Thanks, guys. I miss you.”

Meanwhile, invisible to the Earth they dwelled on, Stan stood by his niece with his brother by his side. Proudly grinning, he clamped a hand over Ford’s shoulder and said, “They love us!”

Ford smiled and chuckled, his eyes still on his little angel, who looked at the picture hungrily. With any luck, she won’t miss them for much longer.

[msviolacea]

I did something like this back in 2004 on LiveJournal - spewing my feelings out into the internet aether - and it helped, both at the time and to look back on, so I’m gonna do it now.

TW for death and grief coming up. Hit J now if that’s not what you want.

***

So. My dad is dead. 

I’ve talked to my dad on the phone almost every day since 2007, when he had his stroke. It’s been a weird and painful ritual, but the older he got, and the more health problems he had, the more I relied on it simply to let me know he was okay.

He called on Tuesday, and I was in the middle of a game in voice chat, so I didn’t answer. That wasn’t unusual either, we’ve been skipping a day here or there, if one of us was in a not-so-great mental space. I tried calling on Wednesday, and got no answer. Kind of weird, but also not unheard of, especially since he switched over to a super unreliable cheap phone carrier. Of note: I later learned that he went to the doctor on Wednesday, and talked to my aunt that day, stating that he was tired after being out all day and was going to go to bed early.

No answer again last night. That’s when I started to worry. I texted my aunt, who told me the above, and it eased my worry a bit. Until today, around noon, when she called back and told me he hadn’t returned any of her calls last night or this morning, so she was on her way over to check on him.

I heard nothing again for an hour. When I called her again, she was destroyed. She’d found him in his living room chair, dead for who knows how long. 

He was 78. And now, it’s just me.

Mom died when I was 12. My sister Susan died in 2004. It’s been me and him alone since then, a weird dynamic that a lot of you know I struggled with. And I’m going to be bearing a shit ton of guilt for a very long time, probably the rest of my life, for my inability to give him the emotions he wanted from me. For the fact that I had to move 700 miles away to find myself and never wanted to come back to live near him. For the fact that I only visited twice a year, and not for the last year and a half at all. The last time I saw him in person was Christmas 2019. 

I lived through a lot the last 17 years, since Susan died. His stroke in 2007 and the painful not-quite-recovery that happened. His bypass in 2015, just after I started my new job. And his awful, painful hospitalization and nursing home year in 2018, when he came closest to dying before now. He resented me for so long for “guilting” him into going into the nursing home, but after he left, he finally thanked me for saving his life - acknowledged that he almost died to begin with. It felt like he finally realized I actually fucking cared if he lived or died, even if I’m far away.

But now he’s gone. I don’t know why. Maybe he just had a heart attack. Maybe he had a bad reaction to the steroid shot the doctor gave him on Wednesday to relieve his knee pain. Maybe he messed up his medications. (Maybe ... maybe he did it to himself, but I don’t think so, not when I was due to visit next week, but I have no idea and that thought will haunt me until or unless I find out the real cause, which may never happen, I don’t know.) 

I have no immediate family left. I have very little extended family that’s worth anything - my aunt, her daughter to an extent, and my 30-year BFF who just happens to also be my second cousin. That’s it for people blood related to me. I’m lucky, I have a whole lot of non-blood family and I love them so much I can’t even put it into words right now. But none of that takes away the fact that my dad is gone. My family is gone. No one who really remembers who I was before the age of 14 exists anymore. 

My dad died alone, in an apartment in a small town in Missouri. At least I told him I loved him when I hung up the phone on Monday night. I just hope he believed me.

I don’t know what to do now.

[moonshinesapphic]

So you were disappointed in Throne of Glass...

 (DISCLAIMER: This post does not intend to offend anyone who loves ToG. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions and likes and dislikes and is allowed to express that. This post is meant to share books that have similar qualities to ToG for people who were disappointed in the series, like myself, but anyone who does like ToG can absolutely find great recs here! However, if you don’t want to hear anything ToG critical I recommend skipping over this post. Thank you!)

So last week I finally got rid of all my ToG books. I was mostly relieved that I now have more room on my bookshelf but I also felt a little sad. It was a series I really enjoyed when I first read it two years ago, and on some level it will always have a special place for me. It was one of the many books that got me back into reading after a five year slump, it’s the reason I became friends with the wonderful Nicole (@/rainbowbooktheif on Instagram) who was the first person irl to make me feel less alone as a bookish nerd, and it, unintentionally, helped me hone my critical reading skills. However, I slowly began to care less and less for the story and characters as the series progressed and ended up not reading the last two books because I just stopped caring. I wondered why a series that I loved so much in the beginning went down hill so fast for me, but in the process of falling out of love with ToG I realized I wasn’t the only one who felt this way about the series! The lack of diversity (and misrepresentation/mistreatment of diverse characters when they were there), sexism, lazy editing and lackluster world building, among other things, came up many times for me and other former ToG fans when discussing why we became disappointed in the series. But the pitch for the book (badass morally gray assassin taking down a tyrant king for her freedom, so cool!) and some of the elements (romance, female friendships, magic, trials) sounded so amazing even though in the end it was executed poorly. So, I decided to compile a list of books that I have read and loved that have some elements and themes of ToG. This list is by no means exhaustive and is limited by the books that I have read (which is not many when you look at how many books exist in the world) so I would love to see your recommendations! Please feel free to add onto this post any recs that you have! Now onto the list!

1) Graceling by Kristin Cashore

I read this book the summer before I started ToG and completely loved it. It was one of the early books that got me back into reading and it was honestly the perfect book for that. It was exciting and I couldn’t put it down. It follows an assassin for a tyrannical king who begins to realize her own gifts for killing are more then she ever thought they could be. Cashore does a fantastic job developing the lead character Katsa and the ways that she dolls out information to the readers slowly is impeccable. While this book is technically the first in a trilogy of books taking place in the Graceling world, it can be read as a standalone fantasy (which I feel like are very rare). Another part of this book that I really loved was the romance. I usually don’t read very many straight romances (due to the sexist/problematic aspects many of the ones that I’ve read have) but the relationship between Katsa and Po is honestly a breath of fresh air when you’re used to a lot of toxicity and sexism with cishet romances in books. The two take care of each other and their relationship is very balanced. There are no gender roles pushed on either of them and they truly grow to become a team throughout the story and it’s wonderful to see! I would consider Katsa and Po, while canonically cis (there isn’t any explicit queer rep in this book), both quite androgynous characters who often express themselves in a fluid manner which I really appreciate. Over all this is an amazing classic YA fantasy that everyone should check out!

Synopsis: “Katsa has been able to kill a man with her bare hands since she was eight—she’s a Graceling, one of the rare people in her land born with an extreme skill. As niece of the king, she should be able to live a life of privilege, but Graced as she is with killing, she is forced to work as the king’s thug.

She never expects to fall in love with beautiful Prince Po.

She never expects to learn the truth behind her Grace—or the terrible secret that lies hidden far away . . . a secret that could destroy all seven kingdoms with words alone.

With elegant, evocative prose and a cast of unforgettable characters, debut author Kristin Cashore creates a mesmerizing world, a death-defying adventure, and a heart-racing romance that will consume you, hold you captive, and leave you wanting more.”

2) Three Dark Crowns by Kendare Blake

This book is the first in a five book series about three royal sisters raised to battle it out for the throne. I must admit the first book in the series is a little lackluster due to the fact that it’s setting up a lot but the second book just blows everything out of the water in a fantastic way. This series is dark and bloody and intriguing. I got completely hooked on this series and it brought out a lot of emotion to the point where I was gasping and shouting and throwing my book around as I was reading it (I got very invested)! I think that’s one of the things SJM can do well is get you hooked on her characters and Kendare can do the same (if not better). I love the dynamic between the sisters, this book does a great job at exploring the darker side of familial and female/female relationships (mostly platonic.. there isn’t very much queer rep unfortunately) that I really appreciate. The magic system and wolrdbuliding are also something that I enjoyed and I though was quite well done. Kendare does a good job at weaving in worldbuilding and magic system seamlessly into the story and I love that so much. Three Dark Crowns is just a fun and exciting series that I think anyone who loves fantasy YA should check out!

Synopsis: “ In every generation on the island of Fennbirn, a set of triplets is born—three queens, all equal heirs to the crown and each possessor of a coveted magic. Mirabella is a fierce elemental, able to spark hungry flames or vicious storms at the snap of her fingers. Katharine is a poisoner, one who can ingest the deadliest poisons without so much as a stomachache. Arsinoe, a naturalist, is said to have the ability to bloom the reddest rose and control the fiercest of lions.

But becoming the Queen Crowned isn’t solely a matter of royal birth. Each sister has to fight for it. And it’s not just a game of win or lose…it’s life or death. The night the sisters turn sixteen, the battle begins.

The last queen standing gets the crown. “

3) The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

So a little disclaimer, this book is one of my favorite fantasy books of all time. I read it over the span of a few months last summer (its a long one guys...800+ pages) and it was one of the greatest, most well thought out fantasy books I’d ever had the pleasure of reading. I loved the characters, the world, the plot, the magic system etc. I loved everything! There’s some great political intrigue, dragon riders, epic battles, prophecies, weddings, funerals, romance and just general badassery and kickassery happening. Shannon clearly put so much time and effort into this book and it shows. That kind of dedication that shows is something that I really appreciate in a book, especially a fantasy book. Another aspect that I loved so so much is the diversity in this book. It came so naturally and didn’t at all feel like tokenism. The characters, with their differing genders, ethnicities, sexualities, ages, and nationalities etc, and their relationships with each other are truly what made the story. This book also has one of the BEST f/f romances I’ve ever read (as a queer woman I really loved that representation so much and felt very connected to both of those characters). Priory is a long one but if you have the time I highly recommend it.

Synopsis: “ A world divided. A queendom without an heir. An ancient enemy awakens.

The House of Berethnet has ruled Inys for a thousand years. Still unwed, Queen Sabran the Ninth must conceive a daughter to protect her realm from destruction – but assassins are getting closer to her door.

Ead Duryan is an outsider at court. Though she has risen to the position of lady-in-waiting, she is loyal to a hidden society of mages. Ead keeps a watchful eye on Sabran, secretly protecting her with forbidden magic.

Across the dark sea, Tané has trained to be a dragonrider since she was a child, but is forced to make a choice that could see her life unravel.

Meanwhile, the divided East and West refuse to parley, and forces of chaos are rising from their sleep. “

4) Truthwitch by Susan Dennard

As a queer woman, I’m always a little on edge when someone mentions f/f friendship in a book. This is entirely because of the erasure many many f/f romances experience when they are just brushed off as friendships (we’ve all heard the term “gal pals”). It’s frustrating and even though I love a good f/f friendship when the f/f romances get erased and replaced by friendships it gets exhausting. However, Truthwitch is a true f/f friendship that I can fully get behind! Dennard is an author that I had been following for writing tips for a while before I finally picked up her book. I knew that she’s someone who is invested in making her series diverse, even if she herself doesn’t fit into those categories, and accepts criticism because she want’s to do her characters justice. That’s something I really appreciate seeing from white cishet authors and is one of the reasons I picked up Truthwitch. It’s so much fun and the heart of the story truly is the relationship between the two leads Safi and Iseult. Their friendship reminds me a lot of my relationship with my friends. Books about f/f relationships (romantic or otherwise) are few and far between so I really love that this book exists. Strong platonic relationships are so often pushed aside for cishet romantic ones so it’s SO refreshing to see a series where the book would not exist without Safi and Iseult’s bond. They are truly soulmates and their relationship with each other is the most important one in their lives and that is just beautiful. Not to mention this book has got an awesome magic system and is building up to an amazing fantasy series! There’s pirates, priestesses, princes and, of course, witches! It’s loads of fun all around!

Synopsis: “ Young witches Safiya and Iseult have a habit of finding trouble. After clashing with a powerful Guildmaster and his ruthless Bloodwitch bodyguard, the friends are forced to flee their home.

Safi must avoid capture at all costs as she's a rare Truthwitch, able to discern truth from lies. Many would kill for her magic, so Safi must keep it hidden - lest she be used in the struggle between empires. And Iseult's true powers are hidden even from herself.

In a chance encounter at Court, Safi meets Prince Merik and makes him a reluctant ally. However, his help may not slow down the Bloodwitch now hot on the girls' heels. All Safi and Iseult want is their freedom, but danger lies ahead. With war coming, treaties breaking and a magical contagion sweeping the land, the friends will have to fight emperors and mercenaries alike. For some will stop at nothing to get their hands on a Truthwitch. “

5) Monstress by Marjorie Liu (Writer) and Sana Takeda (Illustrator) 

Another disclaimer! This book is my favorite graphic novel, period. There is really nothing like Monstress out there and I think that it’s criminally underrated. Liu and Takeda are the perfect combo of writer/artist to make this GN come together. I’m constantly in awe of the world, characters, and story Liu built and the frankly stunning art Takeda creates to go along with it. It’s steampunk and dark and dirty and beautiful. The lead character, Maika, is one of the few truly morally gray characters that I’ve read. Her decisions will make you question if you’re a good person because you still love her despite the fact that she just killed that guy... and that guy... and those other guys. This graphic novel series is very reflective of the dark animes (like Tokyo Ghoul and Castlevania) that we are seeing more recently and I personally believe Monstress would make a fantastic animated series if it were ever to get an adaption. This book has also some great representation of queer women (Maika herself is a queer, disabled, WoC). It’s totally the norm for the world and all of the lead female characters are queer, which I just love. This story has amazing woldbulding, magic, characters etc. It’ll give you everything from giant dead gods, to talking cats with multiple tails, to demonically possessed teenage girls who need to eat people. It’s honestly amazing. (I would give a major trigger warning for blood/gore so as long as you know you can handle that I think you should check it out!)

Synopsis: “ Set in an alternate matriarchal 1900's Asia, in a richly imagined world of art deco-inflected steam punk, MONSTRESS tells the story of a teenage girl who is struggling to survive the trauma of war, and who shares a mysterious psychic link with a monster of tremendous power, a connection that will transform them both and make them the target of both human and otherworldly powers. “

6) The Bridge Kingdom by Danielle L. Jensen

I never thought I would love a cishet romance as much as I love this one but here I am. The Bridge Kingdom is not really the kind of book I would normally pick up but it was on sale on kindle so I thought “why not!” And I was not disappointed. This story follows the assassin princess, Lara, who was raised to be married off to her fathers rival kingdom and kill the king. However, things get sticky when she begins to actually fall for the king and starts to realize that her father isn’t exactly who he says he is. Not only was this romance steamy as hell (this is an ADULT book folks so there are some explicit sex scenes, beware) but the world is super cool. The political intrigue was something I really enjoyed and I loved to see the world unfold from Lara’s eyes. I also totally loved Lara’s character. She’s complicated and cutthroat but ultimately want’s to do what’s right and is a character made to change and develop. I usually don’t go for that character trope that Lara fits into (beautiful and badass and despite being the MCs they somehow end up being very bland...) but Jensen managed to create a very mature and ever changing version of the YA trope that I ended up loving completely. If you love steamy fantasy romances with cool worlds and intriguing characters this is absolutely the book for you!

Synopsis: “ Lara has only one thought for her husband on their wedding day: I will bring your kingdom to its knees. A princess trained from childhood to be a lethal spy, Lara knows that the Bridge Kingdom represents both legendary evil - and legendary promise. The only route through a storm-ravaged world, the Bridge Kingdom controls all trade and travel between lands, allowing its ruler to enrich himself and deprive his enemies, including Lara's homeland. So when she is sent as a bride under the guise of fulfilling a treaty of peace, Lara is prepared to do whatever it takes to fracture the defenses of the impenetrable Bridge Kingdom.

But as she infiltrates her new home - a lush paradise surrounded by tempest seas - and comes to know her new husband, Aren, Lara begins to question where the true evil resides. Around her, she sees a kingdom fighting for survival, and in Aren, a man fiercely protective of his people. As her mission drives her to deeper understanding of the fight to possess the bridge, Lara finds the simmering attraction between her and Aren impossible to ignore. Her goal nearly within reach, Lara will have to decide her own fate: Will she be the destroyer of a king or the savior of her people? “

[goalieprotectionsquad]

so i’ve watched like three straight days of maine cabin masters and my idiot ass is thinking of the harringtons having a cute little cabin on a lake in maine where they went every summer as a family before his dad started making bank and didn’t have the time anymore.

it’s been seventeen years since steve’s been up there. he doesn’t live at home anymore. he has a job that doesn’t really make him happy, but doesn’t really make him miserable, either. he has plenty of savings from the government coverup but doesn’t have anywhere to go with it. nothing to spend it on. the kids get older. they leave for college. he’s in his mid-twenties and complacent and isn’t all that motivated to change anything.

he gets dinner with his parents when they’re in town in the spring. his mom is talking about a lodge they stayed in when they visited basque country over christmas and he suddenly remembers the cabin. he waits until his mom is done relaying unimportant details like the color of the drape tassels to ask his dad if they still have the cabin in maine, and it’s evident on his face that he’d forgotten about it, too. he looks sort of wistful for a moment but it passes quickly. yeah, they still own it. no, nobody’s been up there in a while. steve doesn’t really think before he’s saying, “can I take a trip up there?”

his parents stare at him for a second like they’re surprised he’s actually interested in doing something, which. not unfair. his dad can’t remember where he put the keys but gives steve the address and tells him to find a locksmith who can get him inside. (steve plans on elbowing through a window or something to save on time and the hassle).

he subleases his apartment and leaves. everyone he likes is either away at school or just. away. moving on with their lives. he doesn’t have anyone to say goodbye to beyond telling his boss he’s quitting.

it takes a while to get up there, but he does, eventually. the cabin is hard to find and it looks so bad on the outside that steve has to triple check the address on the adjacent cabins to make sure it’s the right place. he thinks it’s maybe not just him who hasn’t been here in almost twenty years.

he stays in a hotel and gets up early to meet the contractor. she looks like she’s holding in a laugh when she introduces herself as kali. “look,” she says. “I’m going to be straight with you. this place is literally falling apart.”

steve doesn’t know what to say so he says, “yeah.”

“we can do a walkthrough,” she continues, “but I guarantee that this is going to make your budget look like pocket change.”

steve doesn’t really want to say it’s his dad’s money, so he shrugs and says, “let’s do it,” and watches her pick the lock.

the foundation is rotted out. the floor is rotted out. the porch is rotted out. she points at things and says any variety of that has to go or we’d start by taking that out or when was the last time you were up here again? they need to hire a plumber and a landscaper and an electrician and probably an exterminator, too, and kali doesn’t say anything when she watches him write a check for half the amount she quotes. she gives him a calculating look with kohl-rimmed eyes and says, “all right. we’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

steve shows up at seven because he doesn’t have anything better to do and there’s already a truck parked outside. a tall guy with a beanie shoved low over his forehead is tearing the porch off the front of the house and steve goes over to him and tries not to get hit with any falling debris.

“hi,” he says and has to stand there a minute before the guy looks at him. “I’m steve. is kali around?”

she’s inside the cabin and is leaning over the sink when steve walks in. she yells no. no. no. out the open window to her right as the water continues to run and then yes that’s it we got it as it cuts off abruptly. she looks unsurprised when she turns around and sees him standing in the doorway.

“hi,” he says again. “I’m here to help.”

“you’re paying us to do this for you, you know,” she says, but something in her face makes steve feel like she gets it.

a guy with his hair pulled into a tight bun at the nape of his neck hoists himself through the front door from where the porch used to be. “hey,” he says, all silk, when he sees steve.

“billy, this is steve harrington. the homeowner.” she stresses the word enough that steve literally cannot not notice the emphasis. billy rolls his eyes and shakes steve’s hand. it’s rough with calluses and steve would be stupid not to think about what that would feel like on his skin.

“billy hargrove,” he says. “head carpenter.”

“steve’s here to help with demo,” kali says. 

“well,” billy says. he gives steve one of the most obvious once-overs he’s ever seen. “welcome aboard. you’re gonna help me knock down these interior walls, pretty boy. heads up, though. you might break a nail.”

billy shows him how to use a stud finder and how to cut into the walls to make sure there aren’t any loose wires running through it and then he fucking kicks the wall in and gives steve a wild grin as the drywall dust settles into his blond hair.

steve comes back every day to see billy. he doesn’t even bother lying to himself. billy is funny and sharp and always seems to have a comeback for anything anyone ever says. he shows steve how to build things. stands at his shoulder and watches him use the staple gun on the trim. brings him lunch when he goes out to get food for the rest of the crew.

he tells steve that his mom sent him to live with a friend who had moved from san diego to bangor a few years before. his parents split and she didn’t want him living with his dad. he says susan is a little ditzy but she means well, and she didn’t give up on him during his rougher years in high school even though he isn’t even her kid. he calls her daughter my sister and gets a pinched expression on his face when he talks about how she’s been going through her teenage angst since she was eight and how they’re still figuring out how to not always be at each other’s throats.

it takes a month for them to take out the rotted lumber and to fix the foundation and floor and porch and roof. billy shows steve the crumbly mess in the insulation that means he has an ant infestation. steve helps make the framing for the bathroom and bedroom walls and helps lay the stones for the walkway down to the lake. he spends all day at the work site, then he goes back to the hotel, has dinner, crashes. rinse and repeat. he spends the days the crew isn’t working exploring sort of idly and missing the smell of sawdust. 

when kali declares the place habitable, he buys a mattress and drops it onto the floor of the master bedroom, which is still missing its walls. he checks out of the hotel and buys some groceries and spends his evenings down at the lake, his own private little waterfront. he tries reading but the only salvageable book in the cabin is walden and he can’t make it past the first page.

he hears axel and mick talking about a meteor shower one night. once the crew is gone and the sky is turning purple-navy, he goes down to the lake and lays back to look at the stars. they’re brighter out here, brighter than hawkins, somehow, and the sky feels endless.

he turns to look over his shoulder when he hears footsteps crunching through the undergrowth in his direction. “just me,” billy calls through the dark. he drops down heavily next to steve and passes over a beer and a hamburger wrapped in greasy foil. casual, like they do this all the time. his hair is down and curly and he’s wearing a red shirt unbuttoned to his navel, where it’s tucked into his jeans. he’s wearing cologne, too, and billy smiles when he sees it get steve’s attention.

they talk and they sit in comfortable silence and then they talk again. billy seems to be getting closer and closer until their shoulders and thighs are pressed together and their elbows are knocking. when billy turns to look at him, their noses almost brush, and steve knows billy doesn’t miss the way his eyes drop to his mouth.

“have you swam in the lake yet?” he asks instead and gives steve a wicked smile when he shakes his head, and then he’s up and stripping down and is in the water, wet hair slicked back over his head, before steve’s brain has even puttered beyond looking at billy’s mouth. “come on it, pretty boy! water’s fine.”

he unabashedly watches steve undress and reaches for him immediately once he’s in the water. no preamble. just. puts a hand on his hip. when steve doesn’t move back, he slips an arm around steve’s waist, and then the other. their knees bump under the water and billy noses at steve’s cheek. kisses him on the chin and the corner of his mouth before he kisses his bottom lip. they kiss and kiss, the water not even up to their collarbones, and steve has never been so aware of the night noises around them. cicadas in the trees. a loon some ways away. something shrieks in the distance and it startles steve enough that he stumbles in billy’s grip, and billy tightens his hold and tilts his chin closer again and whispers, “it’s just a fisher cat,” into the crease of his lips.

they start heading back to the cabin before billy makes them double back for the food wrappers and beer bottles and steve grabs their clothes so he has something to do with his hands. he’s never run naked through the trees before but there’s something freeing about it. for some reason, the trees out here don’t look as threatening as the ones in hawkins. maybe they’re older, wiser. maybe they’ve seen more and know how to protect him and billy from whatever else is out there.

steve clears away the painting tarp over the bed and barely has it on the ground before billy is crowding against him, skin dry but hair dripping at the ends over his freckled shoulders. they lose track of time in a cabin they rebuilt together.

billy’s hand on his chest is what wakes him up. the sun is filtering in through the windows and billy is trying to press a mug of coffee into his hands. steve doesn’t own mugs or coffee or a coffee maker out here. steve sits up and leans against the wall, right where they’ve sketched out the custom headboard billy’s going to help him carve, and lets the blanket pool around him in a way that has billy’s gaze dropping, the apples of his cheeks going a little pink. he looks good in the morning sun, in the little bits of dust floating through the air. 

“where’d you find the coffee maker?” steve asks. “and the change of clothes?”

billy gives him a big shark smile but sounds a little sheepish when he says, “I was hedging my bets on needing morning provisions.”

steve makes them eggs and bacon and toast and they sit out on the new front porch to eat and wait for the rest of the team to show up. billy keeps leaning in to kiss his ear, the hinge of his jaw, the side of his neck. just pecks. they still set steve on fire.

billy stays that night, and the next, and the next, and the next. they go swimming for real, eventually, and play cards, and fall asleep outside in the grass with their fingers twisted together. out in the open as much as in their own little world.

kali knows something is going on between them, even if steve doesn’t know if billy told her or she figured it out herself. when it’s just the three of them in a room, billy likes to pitch his voice down, low enough to be husky, but loud enough to be overheard, and gives steve directions more gutturally than usual. pull out a little, he’ll say, all breathless, when they’re fitting the doorframes. now push it back in. harder. mm, yeah, steve. right there. steve doesn’t know if it’s meant to be embarrassing or not but he laughs himself red in the face anyway.

they finish the cabin over the next six weeks. if steve hadn’t been there every day for almost three months, he might have thought he’d gotten the address wrong. it looks like a house, first of all. the outside is a soft brown to blend into the trees. there’s a little living room with a couch and a little table with two artfully mismatched chairs in the kitchen. there’s a huge window in the master bedroom overlooking the lake. steve has never really felt drawn to the water as a non-great-lakes-midwestern kid, but every time he looks out over the lake, he wonders if he even wants to go back to hawkins.

it feels weird giving kali the second half of the payment, knowing he won’t see her again. he hugs her and she pats him awkwardly on the elbows until he lets go. one by one, the rest of the team leaves, and it’s not until steve’s standing alone in the fading sunlight that he realizes that billy’s gone, too.

it’s the first time billy’s just left without saying anything about where he was going and when he was coming back. that deep, dark part of steve says they were just fooling around during the job, but he drinks a beer and talks himself out of panicking. he makes himself a sandwich. lays in the bed. showers. doesn’t really know what to do with himself now that the job is done and billy is gone.

he’s laying on the couch and staring up at the ceiling when the sound of a key scraping in the lock has him on his feet on instinct to do -- something, he didn’t really think that far ahead -- but then the door wedges open and billy’s head appears around it.

“sorry,” he says when he sees steve still gaping. “didn’t mean to scare you. we just -- kali forgot to give you back your spare.”

steve watches him reach out and hang the key ring around the hook next to the door. it overlaps steve’s set.

“oh,” steve says. “thanks.”

billy gives him a little smile and looks like he’s going to leave, but then they’re both saying wait in the same moment and billy’s smile reappears around the door, wide but shy.

“stay,” steve says.

billy slides the rest of the way past the door. he has a small duffle thrown over the shoulder steve couldn’t see behind the door and he’s holding a bottle of cheap grocery store champagne.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” billy says. now that steve’s shown his hand, it’s  like billy’s found his footing again. he drops his bag and goes over to the cabinet to pull out two mugs, sets them on the counter. he wraps an arm around steve where’s he’s drifted over without really meaning to. billy kisses the corner of his mouth and presses the bottle into his hands. the foil is already peeled off the cork. “I heard you’re celebrating a housewarming. you wanna do the honors?”

[tabloidtoc]

Star, January 11

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover Story: Hollywood’s Best and Worst Bosses 

Page 1: Shia LaBeouf currently accused of relentless abuse and sexual battery by his ex FKA Twigs was snapped making out with Margaret Qualley after she arrived at LAX for a solid 10 minutes and holding up traffic -- the PDA session was the first time Shia and Margaret who is the daughter of Andie MacDowell were spotted out in public together but the two got well-acquainted a few months ago rolling around naked for a NSFW music video for a song by the actress’ sister Rainey Qualley a.k.a. Rainsford -- Shia went out of his way to charm Margaret as soon as they met and he wooed her with compliments and gifts and flowers and texts and spur-of-the-moment dates where he’d just show up at her house but her friends are concerned because Twigs’ lawsuit against Shia alleges multiple incidents of abuse including choking her in her sleep and knowingly giving her a sexually transmitted disease -- Shia said many of those allegations are not true and he is in a 12-step program and therapy for PTSD and alcoholism

Page 2: Contents, Prince William and Duchess Kate with kids Prince George and Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis for a Christmas card 

Page 3: Candice Swanepoel in a bathing suit in Miami, Jennifer Garner stepped out to run errands in a mask and an expressive sweater in L.A., Ryan Reynolds cuddled up with a puppy to encourage his Instagram followers to donate to the SickKids Foundation 

Page 4: Friends of Johnny Depp are keeping their distance as he gears up for another ugly defamation trial against ex-wife Amber Heard -- after losing the case against a U.K. newspaper that called him a wife beater and a scathing feature in The Hollywood Reporter that dubbed the star radioactive and his career all but dead, former pals want nothing to do with him -- the likes of Jude Law, Leonardo DiCaprio and Channing Tatum have been backpeddling on Johnny and it’s making him furious but to be fair Johnny had already alienated Leo and Channing by calling them Pumpkin Head and Potato Head and accusing them of having affairs with Amber -- Jude’s indifference cuts the deepest because for a time he and Johnny were brothers-in-arms as they filmed the second Fantastic Beasts movie and from Johnny’s perspective Jude hasn’t lifted a finger to defend him 

Page 5: Mossimo Giannulli’s son is speaking out claiming the fashion designer is being treated harshly at California’s Federal Correctional Institution in Lompoc and Gianni Giannulli took to social media to complain that because of the pandemic his dad has been locked in solitary confinement for one full month and is only let out every three days for a few moments to shower and Gianni, Mossimo’s son from an earlier relationship, is irate that his father is being mistreated and he feels sorry for his dad and doesn’t want to see him languishing in prison however his half sisters Bela and Olivia Jade don’t seem too bothered by it

* At age 74 Susan Sarandon has had it with men -- she said she hasn’t really had a large dating career and in fact hasn’t had a guy in five years and it’s not that she can’t get a man, it’s just that the men she attracts are losers or sub-par in some way -- she is happy hanging out in her NYC apartment but still friends can’t help trying to fix her up because she’s attractive and in phenomenal shape but the problem is she scares guys away; she’s a force they can’t handle 

* Two years after sharing her shock diagnosis with multiple sclerosis Selma Blair is struggling with pain and fear -- she was recently spotted getting emotional outside a West Hollywood cannabis shop and she has turned to medical marijuana to soothe symptoms of the chronic immune-system disorder which can include fatigue, spasticity, walking issues, numbness, weakness, vision issues and pain -- on some days she can’t even get out of bed but she’s trying to stay strong for her son Arthur and smile more for him but it’s been hard 

Page 6: Julianne Hough appears to be sweetness and light but she’s a heartbreaker according to her ex Chuck Wicks who split from Julianne in 2009 -- in a revealing podcast Chuck blasted Julianne saying they were both loving life then out of nowhere you find out that they are not the person you thought they were and you break up -- Chuck admitted that he and Julianne agreed to say their split was amicable but it wasn’t fine and it wasn’t his fault

* After holing up at his Oklahoma spread Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani are having a blast decorating their 13,000-square-foot $13.2 million new home in the Encino area of California’s San Fernando Valley -- the home sits on 1.6 ultra-private acres behind double gates and extensive walls and features a pool and fabulous views -- inside the engaged pair give each other space: Gwen wants a dance studio and Blake gets his own man-cave with a big screen and high-tech surround sound 

* Star Spots the Stars -- Nicky Hilton, Katharine McPhee Foster, Katherine Schwarzenegger Pratt making dairy-free and plant-based holiday appetizers, Jenna Dewan, Natalia Dyer

Page 8: Big Losers -- these stars shed pounds and got healthy in 2020 -- Jessica Simpson, Rebel Wilson, Kelly Osbourne 

Page 10: Star Shots -- Gwen Stefani on the way to the recording studio in Santa Monica, Jerry O’Connell started his morning off with a fresh mimosa and a kiss from one of his dogs, Jodie Turner-Smith is the first Black actress to play Henry VIII’s ill-fated queen Anne Boleyn in a major U.K. TV series in Emley, UK 

Page 11: Nick Cannon pitched in to help distribute 2000 free meal boxes to the Hollywood Food Coalition

Page 12: Demi Moore in a yellow bow for a selfie thanking readers for checking out her memoir, Paris Hilton kicked back for a Coach campaign reintroducing the early-2000s ubiquitous Swinger bag

Page 13: Derek Hough and his dogs Romie and Luna, Irina Shayk striking a pose 

Page 14: Sofia Vergara during a photoshoot, Real Housewives of New York City alum Kristen Taekman is taking advantage of the California winter weather in a bikini in Malibu, Wells Adams takes out the trash in L.A. 

Page 16: Carrie Underwood showed off her comfy at-home style, Vanessa Hudgens and her favorite condiment, Katherine Schwarzenegger celebrates her dog’s birthday 

Page 17: Vanderpump Rules star Tom Sandoval picked up a holiday-themed centerpiece ahead of Christmas in L.A., Katie Holmes slung a guitar over her shoulder in NYC, Dame Joan Collins dropped by The Jonathan Ross Show in London 

Page 18: Normal or Not? Hailey Baldwin shares a glimpse into her beauty routine -- normal, Tiger Woods’ son Charlie showed off his skills ahead of the PNC Championship -- normal 

Page 19: Pete Wentz playing tennis in L.A. -- normal, Pete Davidson hurt himself a few times while making a scarf -- not normal 

Page 20: Fashion -- stars charm in romantic ruffles -- Keke Palmer, Gwyneth Paltrow, Lupita Nyong’o 

Page 21: Kirsten Dunst, Halsey 

Page 24: Ariana Grande announced her engagement to realtor Dalton Gomez with some celebratory shots and she’s telling everyone how she never thought it was possible to be this happy -- the couple began dating in early 2020 when Dalton helped Ariana find a home in L.A. and things hit the fast track amid the health pandemic which saw the two enjoying quality time together in lockdown and realizing they were a perfect fit because they never fight and are totally in sync about how they look at life -- Ariana went straight into wedding mode already deciding on an intimate outdoor setting in mid-2021

Page 25: Jon Hamm stepped out in L.A. recently with girlfriend Anna Osceola and she was showing off a noticeably rounder midsection and there’s a good chance the two are pregnant because they’ve been actively trying to get into the family way -- though Jon admitted in 2016 that having children isn’t necessarily an imperative Jon may have changed his tune after his year-long relationship with Anna and hitting the big 5-0 in March has him reassessing his life and now having a child has become important to him 

* Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher will be camping in style now that they’ve purchased a $140K Mercedes Benz Sprinter and they’re preparing to embark on an adventure  -- with sleeping accommodations for four and a kitchen the spacious luxury vehicle is perfect for the couple and their two kids -- other stars can spend their vacations in five-star resorts but Mila and Ashton prefer to keep things alfresco and it’s a tradition they’ve kept all these years; this is their idea of a perfectly fun vacation

Page 26: Cover Story -- Hollywood’s Best and Worst Bosses -- who’s great to work for and who makes employees’ lives a misery -- Jennifer Hudson -- best

Page 27: Jennifer Lopez -- worst, Rihanna -- best, Kenny Chesney -- best, Mariah Carey -- worst, Gwyneth Paltrow -- worst 

Page 28: Keanu Reeves -- best, Sandra Bullock -- best, Emma Watson -- worst 

Page 29: George Clooney -- best, Ellen DeGeneres -- worst, Guess the Bad Boss 

Page 30: Tom Cruise and Hayley Atwell: Man on a Mission -- amid all the tension on the set of Mission: Impossible 7 Tom has been pursuing his costar Hayley to be his next girlfriend and it seems to be working -- Tom has become very active with the U.K. Scientology Branch and is very taken with English women like Hayley and he’d like to make the U.K. his home base -- handcuffed to each other for several scenes in M:I7 Hayley and Tom were also spotted holding hands when the cameras weren’t rolling 

Page 32: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s very L.A. Christmas -- the prince spends the holidays 5000 miles away from the royal family but Meghan’s mom Doria Ragland was on hand for the festivities -- the couple were intending to call Queen Elizabeth on Christmas morning otherwise they were happy to celebrate a low-key holiday 

Page 38: Entertainment 

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Sophie Turner and Joe Jonas suited up to hit the slopes stopping by a local store to pick up goodies before changing into warmer gear in Mammoth Lakes in California -- the couple are familiar faces in the ski town and looking forward they will be able to plan even more snowy getaways now that they’ve listed their NYC apartment for $5.9 million and moved full-time to Encino 

[bamby0304]

The Hart III: Secrets

Chapter 18: Psycho Nell

Series Masterlist

Summary: Three months… Dean was gone for three months and now he’s back. He’s back and he truly has no idea how much things have changed. Life moved on while Dean was in Hell, and now things are complicated. With new faces and troubles right around the corner, will the trio find a way to come back together? Or has all hope been lost?

Warning: Angst. Violence. Death.

A/N: Just a heads up... for now I won’t be doing a tag list so if you want to know when I post stories follow @bambys-library​ :) thank you @crashdevlin​ for reading it over!! xx

Bamby

DPOV

Sam, Liz and I hurried down the porch stairs, seeing Brian hurry around the house and towards us.

"Hey. You okay?" he asked us.

Ignoring his question, I got to the more pressing issue. "Where is everybody?"

"Hiding."

"All right, go get them. Go. Go get them," I told him. Once he was gone, I turned back to Liz and Sam. "So, it's not a ghost."

"So, it's just a girl?" Sam shrugged.

I shook my head. "It's not just a girl. It's psycho Nell. I'm telling you, man. Humans."

"Who cares what she is? I wanna know who she is and why she's here." Liz had a good point.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Maybe it's the daughter, Rebecca. Maybe she didn't hang herself."

"Dude, no." Sam didn't look convinced. "She'd have to be like fifty years old by now."

"Well, I don't know," I sighed. It’s not like we had a lot to work on right now. "What'd you find in the attic?"

"Some old junk. I found Rebecca's diary. That's about it."

"I wish you'd found a howitzer." Anything to get rid of the psycho and keep us safe would be good. "Listen, we got to get this family safe. I mean, it's just a human, so they can make a run for it. We just got to hold her off."

Just then, Susan, Brian and Kate came around the corner. "We're okay," Susan assured us.

"Danny! Ted!" Brian called out. "We got to go!"

A moment later, Ted jogged around from the other side of the house. "I'm good!"

"Danny!" Susan yelled. "Come on!"

"Danny, buddy, we got to go!" Brian added.

Ted turned to me. "Told you it was some crazy bitch."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes, you did."

Sam stepped up to Brian and Susan. "Head to town. We'll take it from here, okay?"

"Danny, come on, baby! We're leaving!" Susan was still calling out to her son.

"Danny, we got to go!"

But when neither Brian's or Susan's calls were answered, she turned to her husband with fear in her eyes. "Brian, where- where is he?"

"Danny!"

"Danny!"

When he figured Danny wasn't coming, Brian knew the rest of his family still had to be taken care of, so he grabbed his wife. "Suse, Suse, Suse.” He shook her until she looked at him. “We will find Danny, I promise you."

She shook her head, voice shaking. "No."

"No. Take Kate and go now. Now, while you still have a chance."

"Not without Danny."

"We will find him," he assured her.

Kate shook her head. "I am not going out there with mum alone."

She had a good point, the two of them alone might not last that long... "She's right. Until we find your son, the safest place for you right now is in the shed." I gestured to the small shed a few feet from the house.

Kate turned to me. "I am not going in there either."

"Yes, you are." I wasn't leaving it up for discussion. "It is the best defence. The windows are boarded up. It's got one door. It's our best shot right now. Trust me."

Agreeing with me, Brian nodded as he grabbed his wife's attention again. "Suse. Kate. Go." When they didn't move, he repeated himself, a little firmer. "Go."

Once both Susan and Kate were gone, the rest of us huddled up.

Sam gestured to Brian. "All right, you and me will take the outside." Then he nodded to Liz, Ted and I. "You three take the house. Let's go."

EPOV

Back in the living room, both Dean and I moved to the door the girl had come out of while Ted grabbed a knife from one of the boxes in the dining room. Opening the door, I crouched down to feel the floor while Dean checked the walls.

"What are you doing?" Ted asked.

"She's human. She had to come from somewhere," Dean explained right before he found a loose board big enough for a person to fit through.

As we pulled the board away, we were hit with a rotting and stale stench. Dean and I didn't react, but Ted pulled away, making a noise of disgust.

"You smell that?"

"Every day," Dean mumbled. Turning to Ted, he gestured for the knife, which Ted gave him. Using his torch to light the way, he crawled into the space. "Come on." Putting both objects in one hand, he offered me the other to help me through.

I took his free hand while Ted held the board out of my way. Moving further into the space, Dean and I stood and shuffled down a little more so Ted could get in. It was a tight fit and dark, and in an instant, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"You feel that?" I swear, it was like I could feel eyes on me, watching our every move.

Dean looked down at me. "What?"

Shaking my head, I dismissed the feeling as just being paranoid. "Never mind."

Once Ted was in, we started to move further down the space. It wasn't long before we came to a corner, and around that corner was a hole.

As Dean looked down the hole, thinking, Ted spoke up, "You're not going down there."

"Well, do you want to?"

Ted didn't say anything, but that told us everything. He wasn't going down, and I really wasn't surprised. Didn't blame him either. But as Dean started to crouch, I knew I couldn't leave him to go on his own.

"I'm going, too."

Dean looked up at me. I could see he was unsure of that idea. "Liz..."

"I'm not asking, Dean. I'm telling.

Sighing, knowing there was no point in arguing, Dean started to lower himself down into the hole. "Please nobody grab my leg. Please nobody grab my leg." The moment he was down he looked around for a moment before looking up at me. "Okay. Just… take it easy."

Nodding, I crouched down and eased my legs in, letting Dean grab my waist and help me down. The whole time, I knew I should be concentrating on the job and the danger, but I couldn't stop thinking about his hands on me. It was like my body was hyper-aware of everything around me. The eyes watching us before, now Dean touching me...

Once my feet were on solid ground, I dusted myself and gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"No problem." He gave a short nod back and turned, only to jump when he nearly walked into a rat's corpse that hung mere inches from his face. "Son of a-" Turning away from the rat, he paused again, light shining on another corpse. "Dog. It's what's for dinner."

Buster the dog had been torn to shreds. Poor guy...

"Danny?" Dean called, trying to keep his voice low.

"Find anything?" Ted asked from above.

"Yeah, her kitchen," Dean mumbled. "Watch where you're going, okay? There's crap everywhere," he warned me as we started to move, having to stay hunched so as not to hit our heads.

As we looked around, I noticed some artwork drawn on the walls, in blood. It was a picture of two stick figures holding hands, a boy and a girl.

"She's just a kid." The words left my mouth before I realised I was even thinking them.

Dean turned to me. "Liz, she's-"

Before he could finish, he was cut off by the sound of a scream, and then a thump.

Hurrying back to the hole, we reached it two seconds before Ted fell forward, half of him hanging out of the hole, blood dripping from the fatal wound in his neck.

Dean grabbed me and pushed me back as he used his other hand to cover the torch's light. The two of us pressed into the wall as much as possible, trying to stay hidden. Trying not to make a noise or move a muscle.

SPOV

Brian and I were in the shed with Susan and Kate, who were sitting in the corner, waiting. Brian was pacing. We'd been waiting for Dean, Ted and Lizzie to come back for some time now. They'd been gone a lot longer than Brian and I had been out looking for Danny.

"Look," Brian stepped up to me, "why are we just standing here? Let's go in. Let's check the house."

"We have to wait for them to get back, okay?"

There was a knock on the door then, followed by Dean's voice. "Sam, it's us."

Moving to the door, I gestured to the heavy desk we'd put in front of it. "Help me out."

Brian came over to help, pulling the desk out of the way so we could open the door. Once we did, Dean and Lizzie stepped in, alone...

Susan hurried over to them in an instant. "Did you get Danny?"

Dean shook his head, clearly feeling guilty. "No."

"No?" Looking around, Susan then noticed what I already had. "Well, where's Ted?"

"He's outside."

Frowning at Dean's response, Susan didn't stop with the questions. "Well, why doesn't he come inside?"

Dean and Lizzie shared pained looks as my brother answered, "Because I had to carry him out. I'm sorry."

"You're... what does that mean? What does that mean, you're sorry?"

Brian looked between Lizzie and Dean. "Are you saying that he's dead?"

Susan shook her head. "No. No, he's not saying that he's dead. You're not saying that, are you?"

All of a sudden, Lizzie turned and walked out.

Dean watched her go, no one stopping her as he explained what happened. "We were in the walls and she attacked." Susan's hand came up to cover her mouth as she moved to cry against Brian's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her. "And I couldn't get to him in time."

"Uncle Ted is dead?"

Shaking his head, looking so guilty, Dean turned for the door. "I shouldn't have left him alone." Before he left, he turned back to Brian. "I'm very sorry."

EPOV

Dean was standing a few feet away from where I sat outside the shed, watching the perimeter. Everyone else was inside. Sam was reading the diary he found while Brian tried to calm Susan who was in shock.

"Hi..."

I looked up from where I sat on the grass outside the shed, seeing Kate coming out to stand next to me. "Hey..."

"Can I join you?" she asked, gesturing to the spot next to me.

I moved over a bit as an answer.

Once she sat down, the two of us were silent for a moment or two. Looking out at the house in front of us. Seeing it at night like this, and under these circumstances, it really made the place seem ten times worse than it was. Underneath all the bad, there was plenty of potential.

If it wasn't for the fact hunters don't really settle down, I would have probably found the house nice enough to live in. A bit big. But still nice.

"What's it like?" Kate asked suddenly. "What's your job like?"

"What? Hunting?" I shrugged. "Like any job, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad."

"So, what you do, it's called hunting?"

"Yeah. We hunt monsters and stuff. Save people."

"People like us?"

"Well, yeah... but normally the monsters aren't people," I noted.

I wasn't sure if Dean, Sam, or even Bobby realised this, but I had never killed a human being. Ever. I mean, I've killed witches, and people who turn into things, and people possessed by demons, but I hadn't killed someone that hadn't been touched by the supernatural.

"How did you become a... a hunter?"

"Dad was killed. Mum was killed. Sister was killed," I answered, a little more harshly than I wanted.

Kate rested her chin on her knees that were bent to her chest. "I lost my brother last year. My older brother, Andy." I could hear the sadness in her voice, the loss. "Does it get better?"

I turned to her then, and for the briefest moment, I saw my younger self in her. Hurting. Lost. Confused. Scared. The world was a bigger and lonelier place now. She'd never see things the way she had before. Everything had changed, and she didn't know what to do.

"It'll get better. But it'll never be the same."

DPOV

I walked up to Brian as he stood in front of the house. "Andy your son?" I asked, having overheard Liz and Kate talking about the family’s loss.

He turned to me briefly before looking at the house again. "Oldest. He got himself killed in a car accident last year."

"I'm sorry."

"It nearly tore Suse and me apart. Still could, I imagine. That's why we moved here. Fresh air, fresh start. Not even my line. Marriage counsellor. 'Course, she might be right. After all, what could possibly go wrong in the country?" He shook his head.

"I'm getting your son back," I assured him. "If it's the last godforsaken thing I do."

"Why do you care so much?"

"Dean." We looked over to see Sam and Liz headed towards us, my brother holding up the book. "We gotta talk."

...

Back in the dining room, I looked around to make sure we were alone before turning to Sam and Liz. "What is that?" I gestured to the book.

"Rebecca's diary," Sam explained. "I just finished reading it."

"And?" I pressed, wanting him to get to the point.

"That girl back there? Pretty sure she was Rebecca's daughter."

I frowned. That didn't make any sense... "Rebecca had a kid?"

Sam nodded. "It's all she talks about. Being pregnant, being ashamed of being pregnant."

"Jeez, rent Juno and get over it," I mumbled. "Wait, why kill herself after the baby?"

"Maybe because her dad called her a dirty little whore and said he was gonna lock the baby up," Sam noted.

"Why would he say that?" When Sam said nothing but just gave me a pointed look, the answer came to me. "Oh, gross."

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"So, the daddy was the baby-daddy too?"

Liz's face turned up in disgust. "How could someone do that to their own child?"

Sam shook his head, just as grossed out. "Dude was a monster."

"Wow, a story ripped from an Austrian headline," I sighed. "Humans, man." Sometimes they could be worse than the monsters we hunted. "So, she's been locked up her whole life?"

"You saw her eyes. Has she ever seen light? She's barely human," Sam noted.

"Okay, so, what, then, she's been caged up like an animal and she busts out and ganks dear old Dad? Slash Granddad?" I asked, trying to figure out the story so we could figure out what to do next.

"I guess." Sam shrugged.

That made things a little clearer. After a life like that, no wonder she killed her father. "Well, can't say I blame her."

"I'm sure her life was hell, Dean. It doesn't mean she gets a free pass for murder."

"Like you know what Hell's like."

"I didn't..."

No, he didn't know what Hell was like. But I did. I knew the torture and pain of it all. I knew the agony and misery it pulls out of you. The never-ending nightmare you can't wake up from. I'd felt all of it, and I'd inflicted some of the pain too. I knew what it was like, he didn't, so to assume...

"Forget it." Shaking my head, I turned away.

Looking from Sam and me, Liz sighed. "So where is this girl and how do we find her? She's gotta have Danny somewhere."

A thought occurred to me then. "Kid's gotta eat, right?"

"What?" both Sam and Liz asked, confused.

"He kept her hidden, locked up, but he had to feed her, didn't he?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess."

"I think I know where."

SPOV

In the kitchen, Dean, Liz, Brian and I stood around the dumbwaiter. Dean used a fireplace poker to break the drywall to make a hole that would lead down under the house. His theory was that the girl lived under the kitchen, and would be keeping Danny down there too. With no other real options, we were working with his hunch.

"Could've kept her hidden here for years," I noted. "Kept her fed, nobody would ever know."

Once Dean broke through the drywall, Brian flinched back from the rotting stench coming from the hole in the wall.

I moved to lean in, shining the light into the shaft. "Danny! Danny!"

"Watch out, I'm going down," Dean told me. It wasn't a question, and there was no way to stop him.

"No," Brian argued. "That's my son."

But like I said, there was no way to stop Dean. "I know it is, but I said that I would get him. I will. Let me."

After a moment, Brian gave him a short nod of approval. Turning to the shaft, Dean pulled himself in and got himself into a position where he could use the sides to climb down.

Before he did, Lizzie stepped up to him. "Don't do anything stupid. You need help, you yell. Okay?"

"Okay," he assured her.

Once he started climbing down, I leaned into the gap to check on him. The moment his feet touched the ground, I pulled out to look at Brian. "Hey, you got curtains? We need rope."

Without a word, he turned to get what we needed.

Lizzie stepped up to join me then, the two of us squeezing together to look down the shaft to see Dean disappearing, out of sight.

DPOV

As I moved around, I found some of my weapons lying on the ground, scattered all over the place. Picking a gun up, I checked it. "Bitch is a klepto." Moving further in, I picked up another gun and checked it too. "Come on." They were both good. Now armed, I felt a little safer to call out. "Danny. Danny."

The sound of Danny trying to yell or scream caught my attention.

"Danny?" Following the noise, I ended up finding a small gap in a wall.

Shining my light through, I saw Danny bound and gagged, sitting in the dirt. Using my knife, I reached through to cut the ropes around his feet and wrists, setting him free so he could crawl through the hole to me.

"Your dad's upstairs," I told him as we started for the shaft again. "Come on. Watch your head, watch your head."

"Hurry, he's coming back."

I paused. "He?"

"Her brother."

Suddenly a yell came out of nowhere before I was tackled to the floor.

EPOV

Looking into the shaft, I saw Danny come into view. Turning, without a word, I grabbed the makeshift rope Brian and Sam had made out of curtains, and dropped it down the hole. "Danny! Grab on!"

He did as I said, tying the rope around him and gripping onto it tightly. "Okay!"

Once he was ready, I yelled to the others. "Pull!"

Working together, Sam, Brian and I pulled Danny up carefully. I was closest to the gap, grabbing him the moment I could as I helped him out and onto his feet.

Now safe, he ran to his dad, who held him protectively. "Come on. You okay? It's okay."

"Get him out of here," Sam told them. "You gotta go."

I didn't watch to see what they were doing, the moment Danny was out I'd already started to climb into the hole and down the shaft, heading for the basement.

"Lizzie? What are you doing?" Sam moved to try and stop me.

"Dean needs help," was all I said before I moved away from his grasp and started down the shaft.

As I landed on the ground, I listened to the sound of a fight and struggles. Following the noises, I found Dean under a guy who looked just as bad as the girl. It didn't take a genius to figure out he must be her brother.

But I didn't care who he was. He was on top of Dean, attacking him. Dean was in danger. He couldn't see, and I wasn't sure if he even had a weapon to protect himself with. Then to top it off, the boy pulled out a knife, lifting it above his head to bring it down on Dean.

"No!"

Lifting my hand, I threw the boy up and away from Dean, not really thinking about what I was doing. At the same time, Dean sat up and aimed the gun he had, pointing it towards the boy before shooting him in the chest three times.

As the body slumped to the ground, blood oozing from the wounds, I hurried over to Dean, falling to my knees beside him. I checked him over worriedly, making sure he was okay, that he wasn’t hurt. My wide eyes took every inch of him, panicked and concerned.

“Liz.” He rested his hand on mine, stopping me. “I’m okay.”

Slowly, I looked up, meeting his gaze. Then I was throwing my arms around him in a tight and desperately relieved hug.

It took a moment, but after a pause I felt him relax as his own arms wrapped around me, returning the hug.

DPOV

Turns out, while the brother had been attacking me, the girl had gone after Susan and Kate. But Brian had dealt with her... and by dealt with, I mean he'd killed her.

It was morning now, and time to get out of there. I was just finishing fixing Baby while Sam and Liz put all the guns and our supplies back in the trunk. As soon as I finished they came over to stand with me, the three of us turning to see Susan and Brian headed our way.

I gave them a nod. "Thanks for the head start."

Brian looked to each of us. "Why doesn't it surprise me you three don't like the police?"

Sam chuckled lightly. "It's sort of a mutual-appreciation thing, really."

Reaching forward, Brian offered me his hand, which I took. "Well, thank you."

Susan nodded. "Thank you."

"You okay?" I asked her.

She looked to her husband before shaking her head. "No, we're the opposite of okay, but we're together," she answered honestly as she slipped her hand into Brian's. "Thanks."

...

Parked under an overpass, Sam, Liz and I got out of Baby and moved to the hood as Sam passed around some burgers. Leaning against Baby, I unwrapped my food and gave it a smell before wrapping it back up and setting it down next to me.

"You okay?" Sam asked me as Liz paused, halfway through a bite.

"You know, I felt for those sons of bitches back there. Lifelong torture turns you into something like that."

"You were in Hell, Dean," Sam started. "Look, maybe you did what you did there, but you're not them. They were barely human."

I nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I wasn't like them. I was worse. They were animals, Sam, defending territory. Me? I did it for the sheer pleasure."

Liz swallowed her food, her eyes wide. "Dean..."

"I enjoyed it. They took me off the rack, and I tortured souls, and I liked it." I looked away from them as I went on. "All those years, all that pain. Finally getting to deal some out yourself. I didn't care who they put in front of me. Because that pain I felt, it just slipped away. No matter how many people I save, I can't change that. I can't fill this hole. Not ever."

Bamby

[fandomfanfics12]

Home Lives With You-Part 6

Title: Home Lives With You. Pairings: Steve x Tony Part: 6/? Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, blood, abuse (physical and verbal), ptsd, anxiety, bullying Summary: Peter’s been living with the abusive Thompson family for years, it was the only family in the system that would take him. When Steve and Tony get a phone call from the social worker who introduced them to their daughter Morgan for an emergency placement, they feel like they must pay back the favor. But are Steve and Tony taking on more than they can handle, and will Peter be able to adjust to a warm and welcoming family home? A/N: Another long one lol, next part should be up in the next couple of days. hope you enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

When they’d gotten back from the mall Morgan had claimed that she was tired and had gone to bed for a nap. Steve and Tony had helped Peter set up his room, making his bed and hanging up his new clothes and setting up his lamps. Peter was still bewildered that he owned all of these things and then Tony had handed him the phone.

“almost forgot about this.” he joked and Peter stared at the sleek back screen, unsure of what to do with it. he didn’t really need a phone, there wasn’t really anyone other than Rhodey who he could call. And the only reason he’d ever called Rhodey was so that he could get out of the Thompson’s house. He’d called less and less over the last couple years, had stopped checking to see if anyone had been interested in adopting him. There was only so many ways Rhodey could tell Peter that no one wanted teenagers without actually saying that no one wanted teenagers. But the amount of almost calls to Rhodey that Peter had almost made, there must have been thousands of those. Times when he’d sat there in the dark and cold basement, curled up in a ball and clutching the phone, debating whether to call. Would it be better if he called? Worse? Usually it was worse, Rhodey didn’t have good news for him usually. Usually Peter would just be told to hold on for a few more days while Rhodey tried to pull him out.

“I really don’t need this sir.” Peter said, holding the phone out to Tony. But the man just shook his head, turning towards the stack of textbooks on Peter’s desk.

“you said there was a physics test coming up?” Peter nodded his head, dread filling his gut.

“unfortunately. I’m not really that good at physics either.” Usually it pissed Peter off.

“Want some help studying?” Peter nodded, heat creeping onto his cheeks.

“Yeah actually, that’d be great sir.” Peter wasn’t sure which name Tony preferred, he’d never really commented on it. so Peter was using them interchangeably, hoping that Tony really didn’t mind.

“Alright let’s get started then.”

-

Steve was checking the emails when he saw an email from one Mrs Susan White.

PTA.

“Tony!” he called and made his way upstairs, finding Tony in Peter’s room on the bed, hands moving as he spoke.

“Yes dear?”

“What’s this?” Steve held out the phone and Tony got to his feet, crossing the room to read the message.

“I joined the PTA.”

“Why?”

“am I not allowed to get involved with Peter’s school?” he asked and gave Steve an innocent smile. But the look in Tony’s eyes was anything but innocent. Peter watched them both nervously and Steve shook his head.

“Can you help me with dinner for five minutes sweetheart?” Steve asked and Tony only hesitated for a moment.

“Peter I’ll be back in a second alright?” he said but didn’t dare take his eyes off of Steve.

“Okay?” Peter sounded confused but Steve didn’t wait any longer, just marched back downstairs with his troublemaking husband trailing after him.

“What have you been plotting?” Steve asked once they reached the kitchen.

“Nothing.” Steve glared at Tony who sighed.

“This have anything to do with the Thompson’s?” Steve asked and grabbed out the chicken from the fridge.

“Maybe.”

“We can’t seek revenge on the Thompson’s Tony.” Steve said and Tony crossed his arms.

“you saw what they did to him Stevie, I’m just trying to right the wrongs.” Steve shook his head and Tony got out a chopping board.

“That’s not our job. We can talk to Rhodey and take the Thompson’s to court. I don’t know what you were planning on doing with the PTA but I want it to stop. We can’t put Peter through anything more.” Steve insisted and Tony sighed.

“can I at least make your mother’s brownies to put Rose Thompson to shame?” Tony asked, eyes wide and puppy like.

“I love you and I’m sorry to deprive you of this, but no. I will not let you use my mother’s brownies as a revenge plot.” Steve kissed the top of Tony’s head and Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s torso.

“Why do you have to be such a party pooper?” Tony asked in a pouty voice and a laugh rumbled through Steve.

“you can still make brownies though, don’t forget we have Bucky and Nat coming over on Saturday.” Tony nodded his head and perked up a bit.

“Maybe we could teach Peter?” Steve smiled, a light blossoming inside of his chest.

“I’d really like that.” He admitted and Tony stood up on tip toes so he could press his lips against Steve’s.

“Thank you for making dinner, but I have to help Pete study for his physics test. I promise I won’t plot anything for at least another week.” Steve rose a brow.

“You sure you’ll be able to last that long?” Tony stuck his tongue out at Steve and then pulled away. Steve turned back to dinner, he liked the idea of teaching Peter how to make his mother’s brownies. They were the brownies that had won over Tony’s heart, maybe it would make Peter feel closer to them, make him feel like he was part of the family.

-

The week seemed to fly by for Peter, and he was finding himself fall into a routine. Which made him nervous, because that meant he was getting comfortable here. But then, he was going to be here for three months, so maybe it was okay if he got comfortable, cautiously comfortable. But before Peter knew it, it was Friday afternoon. He had to babysit Morgan tonight, and he was excited to get to hang out with her. But when Peter got to the parking lot, Tony’s car was nowhere in sight. He did a couple laps, just to be sure, but couldn’t find it. oh. Peter thought, suddenly deflating. He should have seen this coming. It had been stupid of him to think that he’d get consistent rides back to the house. So Peter started walking, he’d be late and they’d be mad if he hung around any longer. He only had four more week until summer break, and then he’d just be able to hang around at the house all the time. Clean the house. Peter corrected, he needed to start to repay the Stark-Rogers. He was about twenty minutes into the walk home when there was a car honking at him. He turned, hope flaring in his chest, and then deflated as he recognised the vehicle before him.

“Penis?” Flash asked, rolling down the window and raising a brow. Please no. Peter’s eyes moved from Flash to his father who was sitting in the driver’s seat, scowling.

“Peter.” His low deep voice rumbled from the car and Peter inhaled sharply.

“Hello sir.” His hands began to shake at his sides, he couldn’t run they’d just catch up to him.

“why don’t you get inside the car? I can take you home.” His voice was tight, Peter shook his head.

“No thank you sir, I could use the walk.” Peter lied and he narrowed his eyes.

“that wasn’t a request Peter.” Peter’s throat bobbed, his heart was pounding and mind racing. He needed to figure something out, and fast.

“I’m going to have to respectfully decline the offer, sir.” The phone in Peter’s pocket sat like a deadweight. All week he’d been trying to work up the courage to ask for Tony and Steve’s number, but every time the words had died in his throat. Mr Thompson curled his lip and Peter inhaled sharply, if there was ever a time to run, now would have been it. he was just about to do so when Tony’s car pulled up behind Mr Thompson’s, honking at him. Peter nearly collapsed with relief and then he was running to Tony’s car. He got in, slammed the door shut and locked it for good measure.

“Pete?” Tony asked but Peter just stared straight ahead, preying that Mr Thompson wouldn’t get out of his car.

“Can we just go please sir?”

-

It was the high whine in Peter’s voice that concerned Tony the most.

“Sure Petey.” He murmured and Peter glanced at him, a faint smile on his lips. Tony pulled away from the curb and glanced over to the man who had been driving the car, a scowl deeply set on his face.

“Who were you talking to?” Tony asked and Peter sank down low into his seat.

“No one sir, may I take a shower when we get back to your house sir?” Tony nodded, hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

“Of course Pete.” And then the car was filled up with nothing but silence, even Morgan and her friend Penelope hadn’t dared to say a word.

-

Steve had told Tony time and time again that he was not allowed to plot anything against the Thompson’s. each time Steve said no, Tony would roll his eyes and nod. But as Steve tied his tie, and Tony told him about the car incident, Steve was starting to rethink this whole revenge plot thing.

“Are you sure it was the Thompson’s?” Steve asked and Tony nodded, stepping forward to fix Steve’s crooked tie.

“he was on edge the whole way home. He looked so relieved when I pulled up…” Tony trailed off and Steve nodded.

“We can talk to him about it when we get home tonight, do you want to give him the money for the pizza?” Steve asked and Tony nodded, stepping back.

“here, you talk to him.” Steve nodded, taking the money and making his way down to Peter’s room. He was sitting on his bed, staring down at his new phone with a frown on his face.

“Pete?” Steve said, knocking and leaning on the door frame.

“hey Mr Stark Rogers.” Peter said, but Steve could see that something was wrong. he seemed withdrawn, tense, and it broke Steve’s heart.

“I’m just dropping off the money for tonight, you can get whatever you want. Morgan and Penny might twist your arm to get a cookie but we’ve got ice cream in the freezer.” Peter nodded his head, still not removing his eyes from his phone.

“okay, thanks sir.” Steve winced and stepped into the room, dropping the money on his desk.

“Are you alright?” Peter nodded but still wouldn’t look at Steve.

“was it the Thompson’s in that other car?” he didn’t move at first, but then his head lifted and his eyes met Steve’s.

“he wanted me to get in his car and I don’t know what I would’ve done if Mr Stark Rogers hadn’t shown up in time.” Peter’s voice was hoarse and Steve sat down on the bed beside Peter, pulling him to his chest.

“it’s going to be alright Petey, he’s never going to hurt you ever again.” Steve promised and Peter nodded his head as Steve stroked his hair. Once again Steve was filled with anger, he’d make the Thompson’s pay for this. it was bullshit that a sixteen year old was so traumatised, all because of those assholes.

“I was wondering if I could have your phone numbers sir? Just in case I need your help?” his voice trembled with each word and Steve inhaled sharply.

-

He was asking for too much and he knew it. but for the first time Peter felt like he could depend on someone, like there were people he could rely on. But he pulled out of Steve’s embrace turning his face away and heart shattering inside of his chest.

“Actually don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.” Peter said all too quickly, staring at the wall. But then he could hear clicking and when he turned back Steve was typing a number into his phone.

“that’s Tony’s, you can add a photo later.” Steve said then pressed a few more buttons, he then opened up the camera, sticking out his tongue, puffing out his cheeks and making his eyes cross. Peter couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Don’t make me regret taking that Pete.” Steve joked and Peter nodded, relief flooding his veins.

“Thank you Mr Stark Rogers.” And Steve nodded, patting Peter’s leg twice before standing up.

“Well Tony and I should get going, we’ll be home late unfortunately but if you send me a text now I can let you know when we’re coming home.” Peter nodded, glad that Steve hadn’t rejected him.

“Thank you Mr Stark Rogers.” Peter repeated and Steve nodded before exiting his room. In the hall, Peter saw Tony walk up to Steve in a suit, they were wearing matching blue ties.

“Looking good sweetheart.” Steve said with a faint smile on his lips.

“I know, I know, uber’s outside,” Tony turned and winked at Peter. “Bye Pete.” And then they were gone. Peter looked back at his phone and at the photo of Steve, warmth blossoming in his chest. Maybe if he kept this up, babysitting Morgan and if he helped out around the house, maybe if he was good enough, they’d keep him around for longer than three months.

-

When they arrived the party was as boring as Steve had predicted. They made the rounds, saying hello to Tony’s co-workers and Steve gave everyone polite smiles but no conversation was made with him. The first seven or eight people Steve tried to talk to, but it was clear that no one had any interest in talking to Steve.

“You doing okay?” Tony asked once they were finally alone for a moment of peace.

“Well you just know how much I love these things.” Steve grumbled and Tony pouted.

“I know honey, but it’s only a few more hours.” Tony promised and Steve nodded.

“I know.” He could feel the eyes on him, sense the thoughts running through their heads. Tony made a lot of money in this job with the numbers and it was clear that everyone here thought Steve was nothing more than some dumb blonde who had punched well above his payrate. He’d been lucky to have Tony fall in love with him, even luckier when Tony had accepted Steve’s proposal. But no one saw Steve the way Tony did, and Steve hated these things for that reason.

“just think of all the ice cream we can eat when we get home.” Tony murmured and Steve nodded, a smile tugging at his lips.

“fine. And I spoke to Peter, it was the Thompson’s in the other car.” Tony scrunched up his face, his lips curling.

“we’re going to have to call Rhodey tomorrow about this.” Tony said and Steve nodded.

“yeah, god I just hope we can adopt him.” Tony nodded his head, his face softening.

“Me too.”

“He’s just such a good kid and I find myself getting more and more attached each day.” Tony nodded taking Steve’s hand and squeezing.

“I feel the same. But we do have to be careful, Rhodey hasn’t given us the all clear.” Steve gritted his teeth. That he didn’t want to think about.

“Tony!” they turned at the sound of Tony’s boss’ voice. Nicky Fury himself stood before them, smile a little too wide.

“Hey boss.” And then Nick turned to the man beside him, smile widening even more.

“This is my good friend Harrison Thompson.” Tony’s face said it all, went a shade too white, his smile vanishing and his hands curling into fists.

“You were Peter’s old foster.” Tony said instantly and Harrison nodded his head.

“That is correct, how is Peter doing? My wife, Rose, and I miss him so much i-“ one second Steve was holding Tony’s hand and listening, the next second there was an awful crunch and Harrison’s body falling to the floor.

“Steve!” but Steve was on the man in an instant. A rage he hadn’t felt since he’d been in the military rose within him, as his mind flashed back to the gash in Peter’s side and all the bruises on his body. The cuts, the broken ribs, the trauma. It all fuelled Steve’s rage.

Crack.

Steve’s fists were bleeding but he couldn’t stop and then there were hands on him, pulling him up and away. Steve tried to fight against the security guards but their hold was tight and they escorted him out of the building.

-

Peter had walked into Morgan’s room, ready to ask what she wanted for dinner but only to find her crying.

“Miss what’s wrong?”

“Penny’s says she wants to go home and I don’t know her mom’s number and-“ Peter’s eyes widened and his heart hammered in his chest.

“why does she want to go home miss?” Peter asked and looked to the other little girl who was facing the wall.

“she says she’s bored.” Peter rose his brows, looking around the room and spotting the dolls.

“Why don’t you play dolls.”

“dolls are for babies.” Penelope said and Peter bit his lip, Morgan visibly more upset by that statement.

“No they’re not, I’m sixteen and I know plenty of girls who still play dolls.” Peter lied and Penelope turned from the wall, scowling.

“Like who?” crap.

“MJ.” Peter blurted out of nowhere.

“really?” Peter nodded, hoping that this little kid didn’t actually know MJ.

“totally, and your mom is picking you up in three hours anyway.” Peter said and the girls both perked up a bit.

“Okay.” Peter nodded, fiddling with the cash in his hand.

“What pizza do you want?” he asked and the girls shared a mischievous glance.

“Hawaiian pizza and cookies!” they cried in unison and Peter rose a brow. Steve had warned him of this.

“Really? Well I’ll get the Hawaiian pizza, and if you two behave you might get some ice cream.” They both nodded eagerly, caving into Peter’s offer. Peter grinned, feeling victorious and went downstairs so he could call the pizza place.

-

Tony was quiet for the first twenty minutes in the cab ride home, then he turned in his seat so he could look at Steve. The man was cradling his swollen hand, watching Tony nervously, guilt written all over his face. There was blood on his white shirt.

“So, Steven.” Steve gulped.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For embarrassing you in front of your co-workers.”

“and?”

“and for embarrassing your boss.”

“And?”

“and for ruining our night.”

“And?”

“and for not being able to last until cake.” Tony rose a brow and Steve clenched his teeth together.

“and?”

“I’m not going to apologise for hitting that asshole Tony.”

“that’s not what I’m mad about.” If he had been sorry then Tony would have been mad, he was glad that Steve wasn’t sorry. Honestly Tony wished he’d gotten to throw a punch.

“then what are you mad about?” Steve asked and Tony narrowed his eyes, leaning forward.

“we will not seek revenge on the Thompson’s Tony. You will not use my mother’s brownies as a part of your sinister plot Tony. We will be polite to the Thompson’s Tony. We will take the Thompson’s to court and sort things out there Tony.” Tony made his voice slightly deeper so he was mimicking Steve’s and Steve looked down at the floor.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and Tony nodded, eyeing Steve’s hand.

“I forgive you.”

“I haven’t been that angry since…” Steve trailed off and Tony took his hand, he winced ever so slightly but held Tony’s hand back.

“the military?” Steve nodded, eyes glazing over.

“do you want to start seeing a therapist again?” Steve shuddered, shrugging.

“I don’t know. I thought I had this under control, but seeing that man and knowing what he had done to Peter.” Tony nodded, rubbing his spare hand between Steve’s shoulder blades.

“He had it coming Steve, I love you okay?” Steve’s head whipped towards Tony, tears in his eyes.

“How?” he whispered and Tony’s heart broke for Steve a little.

“because you are the kindest man I have ever known.” Tony whispered and leaned forward, brushing his lips against Steve’s.

“how can you say that after tonight?” Steve whispered, leaning his forehead against Tony’s.

“you beat up an abusive asshole, it’s a shame we’re going back home to our kids because I must admit that you are looking mighty fine right now Mr Stark Rogers.” Tony whispered and Steve quirked a brow.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Tony’s lips met Steve’s again and Steve deepened the kiss, the both of them melting into it. when they finally pulled back for air, Steve seemed to have calmed down a little.

“I love you Tony.” He whispered and Tony grinned.

“you’re such a dork Stevie.” He muttered, shaking his head but blushing anyway.

“and I’m sorry I ruined our night.” Tony turned back to Steve, a smile on his lips.

“Stevie you didn’t ruin anything. Watching you hit that guy was the most entertaining thing I’ve ever seen at those parties.” Tony promised and Steve nodded, his grip tightening on Tony’s hand ever so slightly.

“okay.” He whispered and tony nodded, but concern rolled through his gut. He could sense the anxiety rolling off of Steve in waves and Tony made a mental note to make some ice when they got home, just in case Steve had a panic attack.

-

Peter was halfway through a slice when the door opened and shut.

“we’re home!” Tony called out and then they appeared, Steve looking worse for wear.

“Daddy?” Morgan asked, eyeing the blood on Steve’s shirt.

“Daddy’s alright princess. Did Peter give you ice cream?” she nodded her head eagerly, the sugar high still hadn’t worn off.

“I’m guessing Penny’s gone?” Tony asked and again Morgan nodded eagerly.

“Yeah.”

“did you have fun?” Tony asked, grabbing out a bag of frozen peas.

“I guess. She said dolls were for babies but then Peter told us about his girlfriend and-“ Tony and Steve’s heads whipped towards Peter and his eyes widened. He finished chewing the pizza and swallowed, heart rate spiking.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He said and Morgan scowled.

“MJ, the one who plays with dolls?” Peter shook his head, this was why lying was bad. It always came back and bit you on the ass.

“She’s just a classmate, she is not my girlfriend.” Peter insisted and they nodded.

“If you say so.” Tony said and handed Steve the peas. That was when Peter saw how busted up Steve’s hands were.

“what happened?”

“We ran into Mr Thompson at the party and Steve lost his cool.” Peter’s brows rose and Steve hung his head in shame.

“Oh.”

“yeah oh.” Tony said pointedly and Peter eyes Steve’s hands again. He wondered what Flash would say at school on Monday.

“I’m sorry Peter but knowing what he did to you, I-“ Peter shook his head, unsure on how to feel.

“No it’s alright sir, you didn’t do anything wrong.” but then, why did Peter feel so icky on the inside?

@smallnjh @picklepotatoe14 @thatisamericasass @briebriebrieee @aftereveryraincomessunshine @meyamoadriytu

[adrischrv]

REGNUM [L.H] - Chapter 3

Author´s note: Hi! Here´s the third chapter! English is not my first language so lemme know if there are any mistakes. 

Word count:  2,902

Introduction.  C1. C2. 

The morning after the ball was quiet. The lack of Queen Susan’s joyful life was as strange as the King’s laughter and everyone in the palace could feel it. Even, though I only knew them for a short time. I remembered finding my mother talking on the phone with the Queen about nonsense to serious business matters, I was infinitely grateful to the Queen for taking my mother away from a couple of lessons.

Gardenstone has a particular way of saying goodbye to its loved ones: people would write a word describing such people on an acorn, they would gather and water them all over the forest. A nice old lady explained to me that different trees sprouted like the oak tree and when they grew up a person was also born with the written word in a way that reflected the impact you have on the world even after you die. She could assure me that people with good intentions would come out of the words of Queen Susan, King Robert, and Prince Jake. 

“Fifty delivered and about… sixty more arrived.”

Luke nodded, tired. I left the piles of papers on the big desk in front of him and took a seat on the other side.

After he had been appointed King and after the farewell, thousands of petitions from citizens and nobles had arrived in the early hours waiting to be authorized. Seeing the load of papers, I offered to help Luke and avoid the collapse of my neighboring country. My mother decided to do the same on her own by talking to the dukes and duchesses who feared for the future of Gardenstone as it was justly uncertain. 

“I slept for two hours… and everyone wants me to approve petitions, I don’t understand why.”

Luke had spoken more to himself, but that didn’t stop me from laughing a little.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, paying attention for the first time all morning.

“Of course they want you to approve petitions. They’re taking advantage. Since your father, may he rest in peace, is no longer the king, they expect you to approve everything he didn’t. But I hope you have not approved many, parliament will have a lot to discuss and it will probably be exhausting.”

Luke was stunned, looking for the right way to hide his inexperience.

“It’s parliament’s job, exhausting or not.”

“They wouldn’t give the same importance to every role and something important might be disapproved of or something unimportant might be approved, it’s risky.”

“If you know so much, why don’t you do it?”

Clearly, the regulation of his tone had a flaw causing it to come out more aggressively than planned.

“It would be a pleasure. I firmly believe that I can do it better than you, Your Majesty.”

Luke let go of the pen in his hand and crossed his arms. If I didn’t think it was funny I’d say he was trying to be intimidating but suddenly he relaxed his gaze.

“I’d like to check that out. Oh, and also about approving petitions, princess.”

I clenched my fists but like him I relaxed my gaze, ready to give an intelligent answer.

“I’m sorry I dared to think I was talking to a king, when it is clear the long road you have to be considered one.”

The slamming of the door interrupted Luke from saying - surely - something stupid.

“Busy, Your Majesty?”

Calum’s brown hair peeked out, smiling at the sight of me.

“Go ahead, did you get any sleep, Cal?”

Calum snorted at Luke’s question, taking a seat next to me at the desk, and took an exhausted stance, dropping his hands down his pants.

“Are you kidding? Mom keeps calling, I had to turn off my Jhin just like Dad. Who, by the way, sent me to find out if you had authorized his request.”

The “Jhin”, modern devices from cell phones that had the option to call among other things, and characterized by a function that allowed an easy finding of information about any individual, in the past there were social networks that were eliminated in the International Revolution and changed by the Jhin.

“You find it in this rubble and I’ll authorize all the requests you want” Luke sighed leaning back in his seat and pointing to the papers in front of him.

Calum looked at him sorrowfully, none of them in the mood. Said and done, Calum managed to find the petition he recognized by the notorious “H” for “Hood” in one corner of the paper, leaving it on top of all the others.

Luke took it, signed it without hesitation, and took a second to read.

“You should read it and then sign it, you know?” Calum mentioned, gaining the satisfaction I hoped to get from correcting Luke.

“You have my absolute trust, you know?” Luke replied in the same tone without taking his eyes off the document, opened his big eyes, and handed it to Calum who accepted it immediately. “Are you my Diplomatic Adviser? What about your father?”

“After what happened last night, he thinks it’s time for me to take his place. I would eventually, but it seems to him that I need to be by your side now to support you and test my training,“ Calum replied, noting the anguish in his friend’s expression. 

I had nothing to say so I got up and directed my interest to the books on the shelves pretending not to pay attention.

“I suppose your father went with your mother to his village…”

“You guess right,” Calum paused for a moment. “Hey, I know you’re not well. It must be hard to lose your family… I can’t imagine waking up without my parents and my sister… but you’re not alone, I’m here if you need to talk.”

Luke smiled sideways, quietly accepting his proposal.

“You need to take a break, it’s all happening so fast,“ Calum said, almost reading his mind. “The kingdom needs you to be in good shape.”

Frustrated Luke rose from his seat to sit in the corner of the desk.

“I don’t know what else the kingdom needs, and that will be your first task. Also, stop sending in paperwork, close down the possibility of sending in a petition until further notice.”

I was going to tell him how reckless it was to shut down the arrival of petitions but I finally stopped to think about the matter I had provisionally ignored: I had no power in Gardestone and I didn’t know what was going to happen to the alliance. 

“His Majesty, His Highness, young Hood” A guard appeared at the door with cards in hand which he dealt to the three of them. “Their Majesties King Ashton and Queen Lauren of Lauxwell would like you to attend a dinner they have arranged for themselves tonight.“

“Are those harpies still in my palace?” Luke raised an eyebrow. The poor guard did nothing but nod. “Get rid of them. I want them out.”

“Are you crazy?” exclaimed Calum, clearing his throat as he realized the mistake he had just made. “I mean, are you sure you want the Irwins out? As your royal advisor, I don’t think it’s true to your word, your majesty. King Ashton won the duel and the terms-”

Luke raised a hand to stop Calum from talking. 

“Guard, I need privacy, if it’s not too much trouble…”

The Guard bade farewell with a bow. 

“You too, Princess,” said Luke, “you can request as many maids as you need for tonight, but that’s no reason for you to stay here another second.”

I blinked uncertainly as to how to respond to his insinuation… or insult. I was still debating what was most appropriate.

“Did I not make myself clear? -Or would you rather stay here and stare at me a little longer?”

“I can’t ask my eyes to meet this turtle,” I answered, in the most pleasant tone I could find and advanced to the door.

“Are you sure? I can turn around if you need to,“ I heard him scream from the hall.

Halfway down the hall, I decided that I had to set certain limits for “his majesty” if I was going to live with him and his insufferable attitude for one more second. With that in mind, I changed my direction back to the office and stopped short when I heard my name in the conversation.

“-I’m serious, Cal Amberly is unbearable!”

Eavesdropping had never been something I enjoyed, much less needed. I knew there was nothing good about it… and yet I stuck my back to the wall outside the office. 

“-the whole kingdom is depressed. Just by spreading the word about Princess of Maredale’s temporary stay they have begun to produce the best quality products, the children went out to play again” Calum debated. “Your people feel the comfort they have not received from their king.”

“Is that what they want? Miss “I got a lesson in something important” and “I can run a country on my own”?” Luke asked, trying to imitate my voice. “Nonsense! I bet she can’t choose which well-known book to read without help, so many classes have been useless if she can’t speak for herself and waits for her mother to do all the work for her. A babbler! that’s what she is. Even that Ashton idiot has more courage than she does.”

I thought I’d walk through that door to tell him how wrong he was. I could even make a scene and choose to tear all of his fine clothes into pieces that would be scattered all over the palace. 

But I didn’t. Because deep down I knew he was right.

I spat cautiously. My eyes were threatening to drop the tears. 

“Please, Luke. You don’t know what you’re saying,“ Calum replied. “Queen Elizabeth is going to be back any minute and I don’t think she’d like to hear the way you express about her daughter.“

“If the Queen does anything, it will only show what a coward the Princess is.”

Without realizing it, I was walking with a strong step to my room.

Luke was telling the truth, what was the point of taking classes and lectures if I couldn’t speak for myself?

Ashton had said it too, though much more subtly. He implied that I could take charge of my destiny and it must not be like my mother had planned all along. 

Courage- I didn’t have it. I wanted to find it and show it off like a new toy, but that’s not how it works. 

“Princess, I was looking for you.”

Lidia interrupted my walk into the room, looked into my eyes that were probably already a little red and wet. She gave me a warm smile and took my hands and led me into the room. I sat down on the edge of the bed and talked, holding back my sobbing.

“Lidia, I was about to do the same thing, but…”

She hissed as her hands were lost in the closet.

“Quiet, from the look of your beautiful face I can tell you heard something…”

Lidia stood in front of me with a bright ruby red dress in her hands, a golden ribbon, the colors of the Gardenstone, all around. The silk fabric adjusted perfectly to my body, falling to my feet with a discreet opening at the side of my right leg; the waves of my hair embraced me. Suddenly it did not seem that I had been crying for the fool that the King was.

“….and by the look of you in this dress, I can tell you will shut the same mouths that said something about you.”

¥

The main dining room shone on its own even though the green decoration was quite noticeable, it looked like Christmas. The red walls looked soft, smooth, and warm, I liked to think that and the spruce chairs had been Queen Susan’s idea. In the center I expected a long table with food, a lot of exquisite food, I didn’t think I had seen those delicacies before, I assumed they were typical of Lauxwell. Around the table, the guests - mostly servants of the palace - had already begun to enjoy the food, while the nobles were talking and eating slowly. 

I took a breath, looked up, and entered the dining room. 

Lauren saw me first, smiled for a second, and went on with her meal. At her side, Ashton adjusted his tie and looked at me for a few seconds directly in the eyes as if he wanted to tell me something. My mother, who had returned from her talks, nodded approvingly. Calum took his attention off a plate, looked at me, and elbowed Luke. Luke did not flinch. 

“Sorry I’m late, go on with your dinner.“

“Princess, please sit next to me.” Ashton stood up, offering a chair. 

“No, sit next to me.” Luke did the same. “You are a guest in my kingdom, after all.“

They shared a challenging look, Luke just wanted to annoy Ashton and have the satisfaction of being able to ignore me all night. 

Luke’s eyes were fixed on me, seeking a truce not to favor Ashton.

“I am flattered, your Majesties,” I smiled innocently, “but I find the company of King Ashton more… appropriate.”

I took a seat next to Ashton. He politely placed a glass of red wine in my hands, for a moment our fingers brushed and I felt my cheeks warm slightly.

“Your Majesty Luke,” called my mother, “I am proud to report that all the dukes and duchesses are now calm again in their respective states. I have said some flattering things about you…”

“Thank you, your maje-”

“I hope I’m not wrong…”

I looked for my mother’s look on the other side of the table along with the opportunity to tell her that she was wrong, so wrong…

“I hope my daughter has contributed something today.”

Too late to talk about Luke.

I alerted the blond man’s intentions, as dirty as mine a few seconds ago. He had the luxury of taking a sip of red wine before responding.

“I found the company of Princess Amberly a bit… “ He looked me straight in the eye “…Comfortable.”

I took a bite of my food, waiting for him to cut off eye contact. He didn’t. The urge to stick something into those blue eyes increased with every second…

“If you find it so comfortable I can suggest that you keep it with you for a while longer.”

My mother’s words not only interrupted the discreet discussion between our eyes but also took us both by surprise. 

“What do you mean by that, Mother?” I asked.

“I am going back to Maredale, and seeing first-hand the opportunities you have at Gardenstone to demonstrate your potential, I think it is necessary for you to stay here. If His Majesty Luke approves, of course.”

“Of course I approve, Queen Elizabeth. It will be a real… pleasure.”

I didn’t look at Luke, I didn’t look at anyone. I released all frustration of such a decision at the plate in front of me.

Lauren told a story about a night she had decided to stand guard at a volcano on the Lauxwell border near a funeral home. She described it as a bleak, lifeless place too cold for even the heat of the lava to drive away. A giant beast with big legs and a wet muzzle with traces of blood was found, a wolf big enough for her to have faced it alone… but she had done it, she had hunted the beast and divided the skin among her friends in her kingdom. There was something so horrific about her story that made it interesting and kept us all at the table expectant and eager to hear more. 

Throughout the dinner I felt an extra pair of eyes on me, I had the luxury of finding the owner, and the simple fact that they belonged to a certain self-centered brat brought a smile to my face. 

“-that’s how I took my father to the bandits who threatened the kingdom. They will rot forever, end.” She took her cup up and drank it to the bottom. Everyone around her applauded, sighs of relief and fear sounded as well. 

“Thank you, sister. With these stories full of courage, we thank you for attending this dinner.”

Ashton extended a hand indicating to the servants to leave the dining room nicely, some stopped and thanked him, others took leftovers from the table mistakenly hidden between napkins and took them away. 

“Ridiculous, we have never forbidden them to eat. I guess we’ll have to start.“

Luke mumbled to Calum, he laughed but his face was afraid, he thought Luke was capable of it. 

Seconds later the two left the dining room followed by Lauren who walked with her head held high despite being under the influence of alcohol. I admired her in silence. 

A black hair stood in my way, accompanied by a wide smile. 

“Amberly, would you accompany me on a night walk in the gardens?”

“Of course.” 

Our arms intertwined, I tried not to blush at the sudden closeness as we got lost in the garden with the moon guiding our every step.