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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

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episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

Summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

Rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

Warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

Words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

Before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them.

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways.

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good.

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds.

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her.

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit.

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.”

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her.

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence.

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation.

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed.

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.”

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure.

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.”

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts.

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.”

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her.

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow.

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.”

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touché.”

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside.

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open.

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot.

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does.

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end.

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.”

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know.

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow.

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you.

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He��s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan.

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him.

—

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in.

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity.

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing.

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will.

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down.

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.”

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are.

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation.

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it.

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up.

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.”

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.”

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities.

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.”

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her.

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay.

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions.

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks.

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes.

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?”

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours.

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.”

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred.

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off.

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare.

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him.

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world.

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house.

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief.

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.”

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you.

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.”

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you.

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over).

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made.

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam.

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.”

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.”

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone.

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you.

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit.

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.”

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.”

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then.

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding.

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.”

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.”

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions.

Just peachy.

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well.

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.”

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices.

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…”

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys.

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone.

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole.

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him.

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks.

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.”

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh.

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him.

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now.

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty.

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation.

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused.

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.”

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen.

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.”

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns.

“Sorry.”

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.”

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?”

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.”

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son.

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class.

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that.

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor.

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will.

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.”

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.”

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either.

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind.

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out.

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door.

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.”

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now.

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?”

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed.

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl.

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down.

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive.

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?”

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose.

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you.

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess.

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay.

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying.

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.”

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once.

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks.

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up.

You all face her now. “You can?”

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide.

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table.

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face.

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?”

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that.

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.”

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool.

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down.

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given.

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El.

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head.

“Will is hiding?”

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

–

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions.

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find.

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet…

You fear he’s done something stupid.

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a Christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you.

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused.

“Mrs. Byers-”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you.

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.”

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her.

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.”

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her.

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonathan’s room.

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you.

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised.

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal.

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.”

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!”

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.”

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!”

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days.

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.”

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance.

–

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight.

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes.

You’ve never felt so alone before.

⌑ series masterlist

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⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #the thought of steve just taking will's missing poster and then being like oh shit was so funny to me i had to add it #also sad ending #sorry #but also not

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pumpkinbxtch · 9 months ago

Note

hey queen bean!!! 💛 i wanna start off saying i’m so glad we’re moots HEHEHE <333 i was also hoping if i could request a leo blurb or oneshot maybe like,, a quince night with him?? like maybe he got invited and the reader is like his plus one??

I WENT TO A QUINCE ONCE OF ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS AND IT WAS THE BEST PARTY IVE EVER BEEN TO i think about it to this DAYYY. LIKE THE FOOD?? delish. THE DANCING OH MY GOSH I WAS DANCING ALL NIGHT

okay i’ll stop rambling 🤲 hope we interact more!!!

sunkisses, sunni! ☼ *. mwuah!

quinceañera night ✧⁠*⁠。

— leo valdez x fem!reader

warnings: language

a/n: Hello, Sunni! I'm also happy that we are mutual, I assure you that sometimes you won't get me out of your comments, lol. Here is this little blurb (I don't know how it turned out, I always write this before, but I hope it's okay 😮‍💨) I love when these things are mixed together because I'm Mexican so, it's my things ig. I'm going to stop rambling too, I hope you like it. 😭 mwuahh.

You were pissed, like, really pissed.

But Leo had invited you to that party, and between your pride and letting him go with someone else? NEVER. So, you ended up with him at the entrance of the party hall, fixing your heels.

The way Leo acted like a total gentleman with you killed you, annoyed you, frustrated you, because he wasn't yours, and you weren't his. That annoyance squeezed your guts, and you bit your lip uncomfortably.

Pretending not to care about not labeling your relationship or that everything could stay the same for a thousand years just to avoid suffocating him with the question was so hard. But you couldn't help but live with the constant fear that someone better than you would snatch away the person you loved the most.

— Ready — he said, giving your heel buckle a final check. He was at your feet with that beaming smile, the way his curls fell from his forehead should be illegal for the way it made your stomach flutter. — Does it feel okay?

You huffed and lightly pushed him with the tip of your shoe, making him lose balance momentarily as you stood up. Leo let out a charming laugh that made warmth spread to your cheeks. You were about to turn around to slap him hard and then kiss him.

He trotted to catch up with you and offered his arm.

— Señorita? —he raised an eyebrow.

— Leo

And you hooked onto him. Even though that had already happened, right?

Oh, damn. YOU NEVER HAD MORE FUN AT A PARTY.

— Let's go, let's have some fun — he sang in your ear. You looked him directly in the eyes, and he winked at you. Leo was already lively on his own, but you had never seen him like this, jumping around and giving playful smiles. He was having a good time, and for both of your sakes, you wanted to enjoy the party too.

Indeed, Leo was actually too happy because he was showing you a side of him that wasn't easy to reveal, not because he had issues with it, but simply because you can't find easily people who enjoy pozole, celebrate quinceañeras, or any festivities the way they did.

— Here — you saw him run from a few meters away to your table and extend a fruit skewered on a stick. You raised an eyebrow for an explanation.

— Jicaleta.

"Jica- what?" but oh, Zeus, it was delicious. You never thought a Jicama on a stick with chili would be such a delicacy.

Leo sat back down next to you and nudged your shoulder to get your attention. The expression on your face wouldn't have changed for a million dollars; the sparkle in your eyes was enough to have him giving you one of those looks that you knew meant trouble, so you decided to ignore it.

—What are you looking at? — You huffed, and before you could fully look away, he cupped your cheek to stop you.

— At you — cooed. He brushed off tiny sugar remnants from the corner of your lips. Those tiny crystals stayed on his thumb, and instead of wiping them on a napkin, he brought them to his mouth, tasting a bit of that sweet flavor. In an attempt to hide your nervousness, you furrowed your brow and wrinkled your nose.

—Ew.

Leo rolled his eyes.

— Oh, come on — he scoffed and kissed you softly. With his plush lips on yours, for a moment, you needed nothing more than this moment.

"The grill is open. You can order your tacos, and there's also barbecue."

But Leo seemed to need more food. And he got up, pulling you by the hand towards the forming line.

— Okay, okay. Try them — you groaned.

— Leo, I've already tried the tacos. I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary. — He repeatedly shook his head, so abrupt that you feared for his neck.

— No, linda — he took a taco from his own plate and held it up like a religious act; you could almost see some heavenly light surrounding the food, but it was probably just the party lights. — This is a real taco, not those sold with hard tortillas!

If only you could keep track of how many times you rolled your eyes. Nevertheless, the person playing an undefined role in your life (who called himself Leo) extended the food for you to try, and you took a bite.

The exquisite flavor made you cover your mouth and raise your eyebrows in surprise.

— Fuck — you said with your mouth full. Leo smiled triumphantly and kissed your cheek.

— I told you. Now, squeeze some lemon on it, squeeze some lemon on it!

Definitely, the most peculiar part for you was when the birthday girl started dancing with her chambelanes¹.

— Why is she dancing to us if it's her birthday?

Leo chuckled, still wrapping his arm around your shoulders and his head slightly resting on yours as you admired the girl changing outfits about five times and dancing various music genres in less than 10 minutes.

“Mordida²! Mordida! Mordida!"

Once again, you looked at him for an explanation. You applauded along with the rhythm but didn't understand why the quinceañera looked so nervous and complained at times.

—She has to take a bite of the cake.

You contorted your face in confusion and looked at her closely. Once the girl leaned slightly over the cake, her brother, mother, and father smashed it onto her, regardless of whether she choked. You felt slightly sorry for her until you saw that amidst all the icing and cream, she was also smiling and laughing brightly.

— Does she know that will be recorded? — you asked, looking at the cameraman who was also smiling at the scene.

— She knows — Leo took your hand and kissed your knuckles. Once again, that knot formed in your stomach, and you discreetly pulled your hand away. Slowly but surely, you were getting tired of his deliberate touch; you liked it, but you couldn't ignore your feelings.

It seemed that the elaborate itinerary of the quinceañera had ended, and only enjoyment remained; people were already on the dance floor or chatting animatedly at the tables while some kids ran around with candies in their hands. You were truly having a good time, and you liked learning more about this side of Leo.

— And? — he leaned towards you, and you leaned back.

— I'm having fun — you admitted and grabbed one of those candies on the centerpieces; it was called "tamborcito," it was so small that it was endearing that it was just a lump of sugar and chili, delicious.

The brunette leaned closer to you, searching your eyes, but you weren't in the mood for that kind of game.

Watching couples dance, kiss, and share a moment of celebration created a bittersweet feeling in you; you longed for something you didn't have. His hand found yours, and when you finally met his eyes, there was hardness in your gaze, the same hardness that pricked Leo's chest, giving him the sensation that something was not right, but what could it be?

— I'm going to the bathroom — you said, snatching the opportunity to avoid his questions. He watched you walk away and sank into his chair, letting out a loud groan. "The way she makes me nervous should be illegal," he thought.

Same thoughts, no communication.

You fixed your makeup a bit, wiped the excess sweat from your forehead, and adjusted your dress. You were glad you didn't have to be selling a wound or planning strategies; you were just a girl with a guy. As you dried your hands, you laughed sarcastically. If only you were his girl; you barely wanted to walk back to him.

You watched Leo from the bathrooms as he seemed to nod his head to the rhythm of the music; he looked so cute that it made you throw a little tantrum, taking advantage that no one saw you.

— Hi — a guy said beside you. You jumped, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks.

In the end, he asked you to dance.

Yes. Not Leo, that guy, and you thought, "screw it, why not?"

The guy smiled widely when you took his hand. If your UNDEFINED relationship with Leo would serve you anything, what better than to take advantage with a cute guy.

Meanwhile, Leo was starting to get impatient. How long could you take in the bathroom? He got up from the table with the intention of looking for you, but seeing you dance on the dance floor made his soul sink to his feet. And dances are VERY different at a quinceañera; sure, there's everything, but DANCING was a very different matter. Leo wouldn't have worried if it had been a cumbia or salsa, but bachata? the way that guy held you by the hips and led you while dancing drove him crazy.

His blood began to boil, and he tried to calm himself to avoid losing control over his powers to prevent himself from igniting. He made his way towards you, dodging people and apologizing until a click in his head made him stop in his tracks. With what right would he snatch you from the arms of that man? If he just remembered friends with benefits were famous because exactly, there was nothing to explain to the other.

Moreover, he observed your face, with a huge smile and your eyes focused on not messing up the next step. The colorful lights illuminated your face beautifully. He clenched his fist and returned to his place.

You hadn't stopped dancing with the guy; he was kind and taught you patiently.

You pouted as you walked through the garden of the hall and saw Leo kicking a rock with the tip of his shoe. There was the problem; no matter how attentive he had been or how good a match he seemed, he wasn't him.

Your friend's shoulders brushed against the branches of a bush, and he abruptly stopped.

— Did you have fun?— he asked with a certain acidity in his voice; you knew what he was getting at, but you didn't want to give it importance.

— Tons — you balanced on one foot as you unfastened your shoe. Leo just nodded with his gaze fixed on the bush as he caressed the foliage with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes and dropped the heel to the ground to unfasten the other one.

— Why that face, Leo? — It wasn't your intention to sound so mocking, but you couldn't help but feel a certain pleasure in his jealousy. He gave you a scowling look and huffed.

— I'm not making any face — he tore off the leaf and burned it in his hands. Jealousy was eating him alive.

— If you say so — you pulled a piece of paper from the bag hidden in your dress and smiled.

The guy tore another branch forcefully when he saw you smile and extended his hand, taking the piece of paper from you.

— Hey!

— Did he give you his number?

— And what if he did?

He inhaled loudly and felt pathetic. It was true. He returned it to you, still annoyed, and sat on the edge of the planter as you finished taking off your shoe. Both palms resting on his cheeks with that grumpy expression.

— I have something to say — he said once three seconds had passed, which for him felt like an eternity. You rolled your eyes again and put your hand on your hip, dropping the other heel. You were already barefoot on the pavement.

— What?

— I like you.

You softened your expression, replacing it with one of confusion.

— What?

— I like you, I love you — Leo looked up and gave you a flat, resigned smile.

— Like... what?

Leo scratched the back of his neck and straightened up.

— I like you, I love you, let's be boyfriend and girlfriend.

He thought it had been a great way to declare his feelings, but instead, you crumpled the piece of paper with the guy's number and threw it at his face, poking his left eye.

— Auch!

— Dumbass

And you held back a sob. It was so unfair. He seemed to read your thoughts and stood up.

— Okay, okay, okay. Wait, don't look — he took you by the shoulders and turned you around so you faced away. You heard the leaves rustle and some twigs snap; when he reappeared in your sight, he had his hair tousled and some bougainvillea branches in his hand. His eyes pleading and nibbling lightly on his lips. — Can we finally be together and stop with the nonsense once and for all because I can't stand seeing you with someone else, and besides, you're my best friend? Come on, say yesss

You couldn't hold that serious image for long. You threw yourself into his arms and kissed him on the cheek, for the first time confident.

— You're an idiot.

— I'll take that as a yes.

You nodded frantically and kissed him, this time on the lips, with such force that your red lipstick left a mark on him.

— Damn, finally — Leo celebrated and lifted you in a bridal style, making you scream with happiness. He leaned down with you to tangle the straps of your heels on his fingers and set off towards the car. — I'll take you home.

You raised both arms as if you were on a roller coaster. smiled ecstatically, with flushed cheeks. — Take me home!

¹ chambelanes: are the dancers who the quinceañera, usually they're a mix of family, professionals and the boyfriend.

² mordida: bite

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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loopscereal · 2 months ago

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closeups and details below the cut

was thinking od these drawings of school uniforms eddo made, broke down the colors she used an then triend making school merch like jackets, hoodies, shorts, skirts, shoes, shirts, yeah. + idol duo in ther calder outfit bc i want to . this started out as me just wantinf to draw idol duo an dget ther lil shapes down but iii snowballed lol anyway close ups

idol duoooo yippieee Loon/JJ's pants can be blue tone or red tone then her belt and shoes can also switch between being red or blue depending on the tone of the pants bc i like switching it up!! uhhh i gave malva grey in her regular outfit's socks to bring down the grey of her council vest, then made her shoes grey in the other one to do the same thing but whitened her socks for contrast between the dark skirt and dark shoes and to bring down some more white. i made jjs socks brown to brign down th ebrown of her hair, idk i just like trying ot balance their colors around and have them repeat somewhere else at least once... the two of them have matching red earrings, matching planet pins, and their hairstles srt of have a matching flow to them, (what are you talking about loops) mattching stripe things at the socks / cuffed bit of the pants bc i ii wanted then to have a mayching band thing??? i want them to have a million matching things they are BEST FRIENDSSSS. uh friendship braceltes as always... fun fact jj gets cold easily and malva doesnt, shes quite comfortable in the cold lol the planet pins based are off their planets in loons "planet loop" cover

yeah. i feel like every time we post our usagi (we call her malva) she looks different, nut i swear we arent just redesigning her over and over again, we just turned her redesign that happens in the series into a plotpoint for her ToT she has to get a haircut and then it grows back in darker and curly cause the weight of thigh-length hair was keeping it straight but now that its lighter it matches bons curly texture. (we made bon and usagi/malva siblings. twins) she however did not always have that white eyebrow that is relatively new lmao

animatronics with school merch uh i noticed the univorms have both horizontal and verdical stripes, vertical lines going up the arms and side of the leg, adn then horizontals typcally going across the chest, and just did my best to make it look similar to the uniforms and add little things or make it look interesting idk tell me if it looks good ig? i feel like i may have just copy pasted the sports uniform stuff onto different types of clothes lol

uhhh also golden has more birthmark stuff going down their whole arm, i dont think ive shown that off beforeeee. chica also has freckles down her entire body but its msot abundant at the bottol of her legs, arms, and shoulders cause thats where the sun hits the most. she also did some red make up eyeshadow thing on her eys to match the school colorsss i just got the idea to make a school scarf. damn. uh. if you guys have any ideas for school merchandise i should do feel free to suggest some in the tags ! i found this very fun to do

loops from 2 hours after posting this: im gonna re-do eaks versity jacket yes yes…. that would be cool……

#fnafhs #fhs #idol duo #scraps #ive been thinking abt this lightly since th etime i drew owynn with a guagua de pan of loon #fnafhs usagi #fnafhs loon #loon/jj #malva #fnafhs freddy #fnafhs chica #fnafhs fred #fnafhs fox #fnafhs bonnie #fnafhs golden #uniforms

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dramaqueer-commie · 2 months ago

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oh my jesus fucking christ????

neverafter spoilers

everyone trying to talk to the princesses is the funniest shit ive seen in my goddamn life?!?!!!

Gerard nervously babbeling about the apocalypse while insisting its not a sex thing and then EXITING THE ROOM DANCING AND SINGING HER HAIR IS EVERYWHERE AFTER SERIOUSLY DECLARING "if i dont come back its because Rapunzel GOT ME!" is the funniest murph bit ive ever seen???

Cinderella seriously went "thats how sight works"?????? omg are yall trying to kill me???? but also like what was she supposed to say?? "does that sorts work in... in reverse?"???? hello? Pinocchio?? what are you DOING???

I was like "omg Mother Goose trying to match Rapunzels energy is so smart this is gonna be good" COMPLETELY forgetting this is Ally Beardsly, its gonna get real weird, real fast. "so we're both kinda just doing this creepy thing, all right..."??? oh so you know its creepy? but also yes why did Rapunzel go "this person is acting really strange, i better do what hes doing"???? arent you supposed to be some social genius??? whats happening???

"THIS HAS BEEN... LONG"!?!???!? ALLY YOU BEAUTIFUL BASTARD there is nothing i respect more than making a worse choice bc its a million times funnier

i started this episode like "wow being stuck in this castle and having to trick your way out without making them realize you know their plan and they can hear everything is the scariest part of this season so far well done" and i guess to comedians all of their brains clicked at the same time "time to break the tension"

by gods you did. and it was magnificent

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0cta9on · 5 months ago

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I'm always a fan of these shoots, IVE looking stunning in the open instead of being in a studio 📸✨

There a reason why all for them are wearing skirts 😉

You cast invisibility on all of you. Things are about to get kinky 😏

How do you think each of them would react having public sex with you while invisible? Would they down to experiment more with you?

Which locations (as long as it is in public) do you think each of them would prefer?

Hello frisky! They all looks so pretty here, but Liz especially looks so huggable here :] And holy shit, Gaeul is slowly climbing up my bias list, so pretty :]]

I can't help but laugh at the logistics of having sex while both of us are invisible (assuming you mean both :>). I think I'd find it more funny than sexy at the thought of trying to figure out where her limbs are or if I'm even using the right hole :>

Liz: A soft bed of grass in the middle of a public park. She'll get nervous about the possibility of getting caught, but the second your lips touch her neck and your hands trace her skin, she'll forget anyone else is even around. The sound of slapping flesh and her cute moans will be hard to disguise though, maybe people will think it's a weird bird or something :>

Yujin: She's always wanted to get fucked in the middle of a concert in front of millions of her fans. Dives will think she got sick at the last second and couldn't attend, but in reality, she'll be living her wildest fantasies on center stage, screaming her pleasures without a care in the world. Poor Gaeul seemingly tripped over nothing, wonder what that's about :>

Gaeul: A university lecture or museum, somewhere quiet that's filled with people. As if fucking in public wasn't enough, she'll make a game out of it, whimpering just loud enough for a single person to hear, but not enough to alert the whole crowd. While she's getting plowed against the wall, some poor guy will think he's going crazy :>

Rei: A haunted house (or at least, a house that people think is haunted). She'll wait until some wannabe ghost hunters take the bait, push a creepy doll over or make a door creak to really make them believe, and once they take out the black box to "communicate with the spirits" — they'll be met with the most pornographic noises as Rei unashamedly takes a pounding from behind. The clips will surely make their rounds on social media, although no one but her will know what really happened :>

Wonyoung: On the beach during summer. What looks like to be someone's stranded picnic blanket in the sand is actually Wonyoung riding your cock like a good girl. The crashing waves will mask her moans, but with your tongue in her mouth, they're plenty muffled already. No one will question the not-at-all mysterious wet spot on the blanket, it's obviously just some sea water and definitely not the gushings of a satisfied woman :>

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runningthroughthegarden · 2 years ago

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Hi how are you ❤️? You write amazingly well <3

I was wondering, if you take requests, if you could write a Jack/Ethan fic inspired by "You're Losing Me" by Taylor Swift. (You can decide the ending, line sad or not)

Thanks you 💕

thank you!! yall love being heartbroken, me too!! requests are open, i love doing them :)

you and jack had been dating for a year when he got offered a role in scream vi. you were more than excited for him, even though it meant you would be spending a lot of time apart. you both decided you would do everything in your power to make it work, but lately that was proving to be easier said than done. the last couple of days you could barely get in touch with him. whenever he did reply it was small or dry remarks. you felt lonely in the apartment you once shared. sitting, staring at the walls that were once filled with laughter and love. feeling your phone buzz you are quick to check the notification.

“hey babe sorry ive had a long day on set”

“jack we havent talked in days. i don't understand”

“i know you don't. listen i’ll call you tomorrow”

crashing on your bed, tears begin to dwell in your eyes.

you say, "I don't understand" and I say, "I know you don't"

we thought a cure would come through in time, now, I fear it won't

remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light

now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time

pacing your room with your phone up to your ear you begin to grow anxious. jack broke his empty promise and didn’t call you. so now here you were, trying to piece it back together. as the ringing stops, a smile is cast across your face.

“jack!! hey, i miss you”

“hey what did you want”

“well you said you were gonna call and i just wanted to check up on you”

“im a little busy right now”

“oh okay maybe we can call again later”

a deep sigh is his only response.

“is everything okay?”

“no everythings not okay! i cant get anything done when youre bothering me all day. im working and all you want to do is talk about your day. im sorry but i really don't care right now”

“oh okay. i’ll let you go”

throwing your phone onto your bed, you break down in sobs.

do I throw out everything we built or keep it?

i'm getting tired even for a phoenix

always risin' from the ashes

mendin' all her gashes

you might just have dealt the final blow

you spent the evening on your bed, shaking with tears streaming down your eyes. you could only thing about how good things used to be. when you had a boyfriend who absolutely adored you. now it seemed like you had no one at all. your heart was racing a million hours per hour and yet you felt absolutely nothing.

stop, you're losing me

i can't find a pulse

my heart won't start anymore... for you

'cause you're losing me

after that night, that call, you made it a point to stay out of jacks way. he would facetime you every now and then. while he got his hair done, goofing around on set, or just in his trailer. none of these times did he seem to notice that none of your smiles reached your eyes. your replies were empty and solemn. you were happy to see him so excited but apart of you hated him for not realizing what he had done. for not realizing how deep his words had truly affected you.

“hey you okay”

biting your nails behind the screen

“lately not really” you honestly replied.

“hang on mason's gotta tell me something. i’ll call you later. love you."

every mornin' I glared at you with storms in my eyes

how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?

i sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick

my face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick

your surprised to hear a knock at your door. you open it to reveal your curly headed boyfriend. he had stopped responding to you completely a few days ago, so saying you were shocked to see him was an understatement. tired of being the only one trying to keep the relationship afloat, you let out your frustration.

“what are you doing here jack”

“hey i just wanted to check up on you, i have a few days off”

he brings you into a hug, but you stay stiff below him.

“whats wrong?” he asks, picking up on your mood.

“you ignore me for days and expect me to be excited to see you?”

“ive been busy you know that”

“jack we barely talk anymore. and when we do you blow me off in the first 5 minutes. hell you even told me to stop talking to you.” you explain, tears filling your eyes.

“look im sorry, the movies just been taking up all my time."

“and the movies more important than me right?” you say barely above a whisper.

“no but this is my job, my life”

“then maybe you should only worry about yourself” finally looking into his eyes.

“what are you trying to say”

“im saying we’re done jack. i cant keep putting myself through hell only for you not to give a shit”

“no c'mon we can make this work.”

“yeah thats what you said last time. please jack im going to ruin myself if this keeps happening.”

you both are a crying mess at this point.

not saying another word, jack leaves.

and the air is thick with loss and indecision

i know my pain is such an imposition

now, you're running down the hallway

and you know what they all say

"you don't know what you got until it's gone"

the next morning you find a letter left at your front door.

my love,

i'm sorry. for absolutely everything. i love you endlessly. when the stars realign, i’ll be there. but for now, be with someone who can give you everything i couldn't.

-jack

stop, you're losing me

i can't find a pulse

my heart won't start anymore... for you

'cause you're losing me

stop 'cause you're losing me

crumpling up the paper you begin to cry.

i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy

and all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier

fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me

giving up so much of yourself, you were absolutely exhausted. the beautiful relationship you once had is now behind you.

you're losing me

stop, you're losing me

i can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore

giving up the fight, you were at rest.

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #scream vi #taylor swift

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 3 months ago

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Ooooh really excited about the new emojis&fics!! hope ive got the right ones here:

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞

sending good vibes your way along with the emojis, and keep up the good work!!

- feather

Hi Feather! Thank you so very much!!!!

39 for 🔼:

---

Shannon wraps an arm around him and kisses his head.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m okay,” she pants. “We’re both safe. We’re going to be fine.”

Buck feels a wash of relief, watching Shannon comfort her son. He did it. He saved them. They will be safe, as long as they stay on that roof. Whatever happens from here, Buck kept them - all three of them - safe. He did his job.

Buck exhales heavily. Just as he does, the Jeep lurches. Buck stumbles.

“BUCK!” He hears Shannon shriek as he slips and topples off the Jeep into the water.

▶️

It’s one thing to be working as a first responder when a fucking tsunami hits Santa Monica. It’s another to know that your child, kind of ex-wife and the child she’s carrying, and best friend are out there. Driving around in it. And if that all sucks, try hearing that all those people - the most important three people in your entire world - have in fact been hit by the fucking wave.

“I need you to stay calm,” Bobby says sternly as he explains the situation to Eddie. “I’ve just heard from Dispatch…”

Eddie goes numb. He listens, but it’s like his ears don’t work. They’re ringing. They’re as loud as he imagines the wave is, drowning out Bobby’s words. There are a million alarms blaring in his brain. The whole of his fucking heart is in danger. All of them at once. Like someone has carpet bombed his fucking soul.

“We’re going after them, Eddie,” Bobby promises. “But I need you to follow the chain of command and keep your cool.”

Eddie can do that. Eddie knows how. He’s not Buck, after all. He can scream, completely internally. He can fall apart, and still soldier on.

“Whatever you say,” Eddie tells him.

“Then let’s go.”

---

39 for ❄️:

---

“Then maybe you should say something.”

“I’m probably just being overly sensitive,” Buck shrugs. “He doesn’t mean anything by it, right?”

“I don’t think he does,” Eddie agrees. “But still. If you feel bad, then he should change the way he’s talking to you.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Buck mutters. He takes a sip of beer.

Eddie gets the feeling he’s not actually going to address it with Tommy.

He should be happy, maybe. There’s an inherent incompatibility there. A softness about Buck that needs the right person to cherish it. Tommy isn’t that person. Eddie wants to be that person. Eventually. He thinks he’d be better suited to it. But he’s not happy. This isn’t what Buck deserves, even in the meantime.

“You deserve the kind of person who cares about how the way they talk makes you feel,” Eddie says.

Buck’s cheeks redden a little.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says.

“I’m serious,” Eddie says sternly.

Buck turns to look at him. Eddie can’t quite read the look in his eyes.

“Thanks,” he mutters eventually. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You’d better.”

vi.

The summer drags on. Buck stays with Tommy. Christopher stays in Texas. Stays silent. Gerrard stays at the 118. Eddie stays in therapy, both types.

More importantly, he stays in frequent contact with Charlie. Which somehow becomes the biggest source of positivity in his very dreary life. They talk all the time. First, by email. Then, by text. And eventually, they take to video calls outside of therapy sessions.

---

39 for 🪞:

---

“I don’t feel like we’re at the stage where I should be making big life decisions based on what you think of them,” Buck says honestly. “I-I mean I’d like for us to get there, but-”

“I don’t think so,” Tommy cuts him off.

“Uh, what?” Buck asks.

“I don’t think we’ll get there, Evan,” Tommy clarifies. “Not if you’re doing this without even consulting me.”

And Buck supposes he knew this was a risk. Didn’t he?

“Is that an ultimatum?” Buck asks.

“I guess it is,” Tommy replies. “I’ve never wanted children.”

“I’m not asking you to be her dad,” Buck says.

“Aren’t you?” Tommy rebuts. “Asking me to play stepdad?”

Those words settle over Buck like a vat of acid.

“I’m not asking you to play at anything, Tommy,” he says lowly. “I’m telling you what’s happening in my life. If you don’t want to be a part of it, that’s completely fine.”

It is. He realizes. It is completely fine. Buck knows the difference between needs and wants. He needs to be able to sleep at night, knowing he did what he could for this kid. He wants a partner. The priority level is clear.

He walks himself out a few minutes later and drives to Eddie’s.

▪️▪️▪️

“Sorry, man,” Eddie says quietly. “That’s a bummer.”

“I should probably find someone else to vent to,” Buck admits. “He’s your friend.”

“Mm, not really. If he thought we’d try to replace my son.”

“Yeah,” Buck groans. “I can’t believe he said that.”

“Me neither,” Eddie agrees.

#daisies and briars writes #buddie shannon throuple fic #a cold world fic #we won't look back fic

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coldresolve · 3 months ago

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You probably get a million of these but your story is absolutely perfect in every way and holy shit. I did NOT expect that to happen - although i did expect that there will be an attempt, but not carried out successfully, iykwim.

Damn renee. I hope he will be fine 🥺 poor little guy. He needs a good old hug.

And imani comforting conrad was the most delicious scrumptious moment in this chapter for some reason, she is just so pure and wants to help </3 awww i love it.

And like, jesus, i could talk about this for hours and days and weeks but damn it, i cant wait for the next chapter, it will be so interesting to see how emergency services react?

And damn shaun is so professional holy shit idk why i love him too!!!!!! He is so good and so “detached” but he still cares and doesnt want anyone to die. He has his rules and morals but its not like the “youre a bad guy you tortured someone i will let you die” but “youre still a human being worth saving” eventho he most likely knows what renee did… well he definitely knows, he seems like the type who puts the pieces together fairly quick but doesnt like to mention it. Just aware of the picture without interfering. Or idk if i got that wrong, thats just how i saw him, and i love his personality.

Well i love all your characters’ personalities and yeah, please please never stop writing, im absolutely blown away and you (and M.M.) inspired me to get back into writing! So thank you for that. Youre an amazing human being and your story helped me more than you can ever imagine. Sorry for the rant i cant contain my thoughts anymore.

asdfkjh thank u nonny. its wild to me that theres been so many ppl saying ive gotten them back into writing, i think thats genuinely the best compliment i could get. go for it man, theres so much meaning in it

also small ramble time

shaun is kind of an interesting character yea. hes a black market doctor and i didnt want to go the route of 'he's just in it for money'. so i had to give him ethics thatd allow for treating people regardless of the abhorrent things theyve done, and staying neutral to the suffering (and possibly death) that those same people might cause down the line. so yknow, if he wants to save lives that'd otherwise be lost because these people won't go to regular hospitals, he has to stay neutral, because otherwise they wouldnt come to him for the treatment they need. he has weighed the here-and-now suffering of the people he treats and concluded that as a rule it has to be prioritized over possible-future-suffering. and it all results both in shaun being complicit in conrads torture, and doing what he did in the last chapter

idk how explicit im gonna get with it in the coming chapters and its not a huge spoiler, but like. this whole event has definitely made him reconsider his approach, cause suddenly its not so black and white as neutral-professionalism-saves-lives. suddenly his lack of intervention allowed the circumstances that resulted in three deaths. and how often has something like that happened throughout his career where he just never found out about it, yknow?

#this is phrased kinda shit lol i hope its coherent. insomnia is at it again #asks

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medusapelagia · 11 months ago

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Running From The Daylight - Part 15

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

This is the last chapter! Thank you so much for staying with me during this journey!

Written for @whumpuary Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Prompt: You are safe WT: surgery, medical procedures Words: 1102

Despite the dose of caffeine, Eddie must have fallen asleep, because Wayne is shaking his shoulder gently, calling his name.

“Five more minutes…” He murmurs, before remembering where he is and that he is still waiting to have news about Steve.

“Eddie you have to wake up, they are taking Steve to his room.” Wayne insists and Eddie immediately opens his eyes, almost falling from the chair where he was resting.

“Where is he? How… what…” He has a million questions but the words are too difficult to articulate and he can’t put one after the other to make a single sentence that makes sense.

Wayne shrugs “I don’t know. The doctor will speak with us soon and the nurse just informed us that we can go see him if we want. But I want to warn you, he is still under the effect of the anesthesia.”

Eddie nods, stands up quickly, and follows the nurse to Steve’s room.

His boyfriend is still pale and asleep, but the heart monitor at his side shows a stable rhythm and even if his leg has some long screws in it, it’s still attached to Steve’s body which seems like very good news.

“When will he wake up?” Eddie asks the nurse who shakes her head.

“We don’t know how long it will take, he was pretty weak when he got here so it’s probable that even if the anesthesia wears off he will keep sleeping. His body needs to regain his strength.” Eddie looks at her with such desperation that the nurse immediately adds “But it’s a good thing, resting will help him heal faster.” She tells him with an encouraging smile while checking the IV in Steve’s arm.

Robin, at Eddie’s side, puts an arm around his shoulder, murmuring that everything will be alright, that Steve will wake up in no time and that they should start searching for a black marker to draw a mustache on his sleeping face.

Eddie chuckles between the tears while the nurse takes Steve's vitals and then leaves the four waiting for the doctor who arrives a few minutes later. He informs them that surgery went well and that they expect a complete recovery in a few months “He will have to rest in bed for at least a couple of weeks, but once the wound is properly healed he could start moving around with some crutches. He will have to do some physiotherapy to regain strength in the leg after we will remove the screws, but luckily nothing was permanently damaged.”

At that news Eddie starts to cry again, murmuring “Thank you, thank you…” While hugging Robin and feeling Wayne’s arm on his back.

Hopper tries to insist that Eddie and Wayne should get a room in a hotel to rest a little, but Eddie refuses and sits on the chair next to Steve’s bed, determined to stay with him at least until his boyfriend wakes up.

“We don’t know how long it will take. Try to be reasonable.” Hopper insists but Eddie it’s adamant and Wayne decides to keep an eye on both his boys while Robin and Hopper go to rest a little: it was a very stressful couple of days for everyone and now that it’s over Robin seems ready to fall asleep at any given moment.

“We will be back in the morning.” Hopper assures them while dragging Robin toward the door and the two men nod.

***

Eddie has been holding Steve’s hand for hours when he feels something move. He stills and turns toward his boyfriend, trying to detect any possible movements.

"Steve? Stevie?" He calls, trying to get a reaction from him, and after a few moments, Steve's thumb flex a little.

Eddie gets closer, studying Steve's face “Sweetheart? Are you awake?” He tries again, “Steve, love, can you hear me?” he murmurs and this time the chocolate brown eyes of his boyfriend look back at him, confused “Hi love.” Eddie tells him, kissing his hand, but Steve startles and tries to move and Eddie stops him “You are safe, Steve!” He says, trying to calm him down “You are ok! You are in a hospital! You broke your leg pretty badly but the doctor fixed it and you’ll be fine in no time.” He tries to explain to his confused boy “You are safe.” He repeats, brushing away some hair from Steve’s forehead.

“Ed?” Steve calls, staring at him with his blurry eyes.

“I’m here, baby. Help came and the rescuers brought you to the hospital, but don't worry, you are going to be ok in no time, do you hear me? In no time. Wayne and I will drive you home as soon as they discharge you and Robin and Hopper are here too, you’ll see them in the morning. Oh, and Robin told me that you are not allowed to go on vacation for at least a year.” Eddie keeps talking, knowing that his familiar voice helps soothe Steve who falls asleep again in a few minutes.

“Did he wake up?” Wayne asks, getting in the room with two cups of coffee.

“He did!” Eddie replies with a big smile, “He woke up. Just for a few moments, but he woke up.”

“The nurse said that it might take a bit for him to wake up completely…” Wayne reminds him, offering Eddie one of the two cups.

“I don’t care. I’m in no rush.” Eddie whispers on the skin of his boyfriend, then he turns toward Wayne “I want to ask him to marry me.”

The man coughs, “Eddie… I think you should think about it. I don’t want you to make an important decision like this after what happened.”

“That’s exactly why I have to ask him to marry me!" Eddie insists "I could have lost him, Wayne.” He tries to explain while his mind is still full of fear “And the only thing I could think of it’s that I cannot live without him. That’s why people get married, right? Because they love each other very much, and I love him so much I can’t even explain it in words.”

Wayne hugs him “I know you do, kid, and if you want to marry him just ask him, but maybe wait for him to be a little bit more conscious, uh?”

Eddie nods, still holding Steve’s hand and thinking that if there is a silver lining in the horrible experience that they had is that he has realized that he can’t wait to put a ring on that perfect golden skin.

#whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno15 #you are safe #surgery recovery #sick character #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #whump #eddie munson #steve harrington #medusapelagia #my fanfic #medusapelagia fanfic #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Steve x Eddie #Stranger Things Fanfiction #Steddie Fic

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trans-axolotl · 1 year ago

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(Apologies this is long and rambley)

So ive been thinking on a peer-made trait-based 'diagnostic model' (not for disorders but neurodiverse traits), rather than the way the DSM and ICD do it and what that would look like and if it would be a good idea to propose as an alternative that focuses the patients unique experiences over theorized model boxes with misleading names.

Ive been growing increasingly discontent with how the ICD and DSM both categorize disorders, and the completed alternate models ive seen that already exist are not much better honestly, and worse for my specific brainfuckery. The alternate models that only focus on one section are just that- focused on one specific experience. Monotropisim as an alternate autism model can never be fully realized in the bubble it exists as a theory in. Plurality has like 50 different theory models and half of them aggressively ignore common reported experiences because they don't work with their unverified personal gnosis theory of everything, and the other half are likewise mostly incomplete. Trauma/cause-based models ignore genetic/from birth issues as a known cause of mental illness/developmental disorder and also consider everything trauma to the point of diluting the term.

I figured the best option would be to group traits by perceived experiences or related phenomena, with overlap, and the best way to do that accurately would be to make the 'diagnostic codes' combinable infinitely. (ex- a category that is 'unusual sensory experiences' with synthesia, hypo and hyper sensitivity to stimuli, needing to regulate with the sensory system (stimming) to high degrees, hallucinations of any kind, voice hearing(would also go under the plural category when consistent and personlike in presentation), visual snow, etc and each trait is a unique string of characters you can stack under the category string to create a larger string that describes your experiences quickly and concisely).

(The groupings are still all up in the air and id want to get a lot of perspective before cementing it, but I do want to put synthesia and hallucinations and visual snow all together because they are adding a Weird experience and its sensory based stuff others cannot perceive)

And then I realized that this is just the Geek Code but for neurodiversity,,

Im STILL not sure if that makes it a bad idea or not honestly.

On one hand the way the DSM and ICD are set up is NOT actually that great, and being able to shorthand a list that describes things better and doesnt pathologize people as having 'asshole liar personality disorder' or whatever would be fantastic, on the other it is also clunky, people are gonna be pissed about how I am categorizing things contrary to how the DSM and ICD group things (autism and schizophrenia and plurality are all holding hands and kissing with tongue), and it may more strongly encourage people to share very private information online via sharing their string code of every last neuroweirdness they have (which I do NOT want people doing for safety reasons).

So I just went 'hm, whos a cool antipsych person who may have more insight than I do about trying to make a peer-made description system for those who dont want to use the DSM or ICD to describe their experiences', and I thought of you, so thoughts? Is it feasible? Is it a good idea to try? I have like 500 million projects and I REALLY shouldnt add a new one of this magnitude, but I feel like its an important idea to at least float around first.

Hey anon! My answer got pretty long, so I'm going to put it under the read more.

I actually know a few people doing something like this--the founding director of Neuromancers started a project like this (not much has been happening with it lately, bc everyone is so busy with other organizing commitments and life, but if we ever get back to it i'm really excited about it. you could join the discord for Neuromancers and ask about the project if you want to join). I'm a known DSM hater and think that both the DSM and ICD and most biomedical models of mental illness as well as the "evidence based" processes of diagnosis are so fundamentally flawed, oppressive, and are in no way culturally relevant to the vast majority of people. a lot of us are still going to use that terminology as a shorthand because it's the most accessible and understandable in our current society, but that doesn't necessarily mean we all like it or agree with the way it's formulated in the DSM.

Honestly, I'm always a big fan of mad/mentally ill/neurodivergent people creating more ways of understanding ourselves and creating more resources for us to use. I think that there's never going to be one right model that works for every experience or than can encompass everyone. And I think that there's so much value in really deconstructing and dismantling the DSM--understanding exactly how disorders are currently categorized, the evidence behind it, the lack of evidence behind it, what clinicians and researchers are saying about these diagnoses, how we actually experience these diagnoses in practice, how diagnoses change through history, things like that. It can be super crucial to build our own understandings of just how these diagnoses were shaped in the first place so that we can understand what it would mean to dismantle and build alternative models that feel more affirming for us. I think your idea of trying to group more by traits rather than strict disorder criteria is something that might resonate with a lot of people!

that being said, i think that it is such a large and difficult project and also something that is almost impossible to make universal--there are so many factors going into everyone's experience with madness/mental illness/neurodivergence, and different labels are going to resonate with different people for different reasons. it's hard to predict what language or models will catch on with different people, and not all types of language or models are accessible to everyone. i guess for me i just think it can be helpful to go into projects like this without the expectations that this will necessarily be able to replace the DSM for everyone, and instead thinking more about how this can be a valuable tool for providing more options and ways of thinking about madness/mental illness/neurodivergence! even if it doesn't work for everyone or is only applicable to certain types of traits and variations, i think that this type of creation of knowledge is so, so valuable. i hope that makes sense!

some other related concepts that your ask reminded me of was @bioethicists principles of liberatory antipsychiatry. Charlie identifies the right to your own explanatory model as a key principle of liberatory antipsychiatry, and that liberatory antipsychiatry should affirm and build upon those individual models, and respect that as a way of healing. I think that's a really important insight, and to me makes a lot of sense. We all have the right to draw from our own experiences + minds, as well as use existing knowledge, science, and disability community experience in order to create alterative labels, models, and frameworks for our madness/mental illness/neurodivergence. I honestly feel like I've created my own hyperspecific model of madness for my own bodymind, and that framework has been super helpful for figuring out how to live with my madness. Idk how helpful it would be for anyone who isn't me, but having my own particular explanatory model was crucial for helping me heal.

It also reminds me of the way this really amazing peer support network for people living with schizophrenia in Japan called Bethel House, who developed a framework for radical peer support and healing. This article talks about the concept of tōjisha-kenkyū, which in English would get translated as something like "self directed diagnosis" or maybe "political education," and it seems kind of similiar to English concepts about self diagnosis.

"Self-reflection is at the heart of this practice. Tōjisha-kenkyū incorporates various forms of reflection developed in clinical methods, such as social skills training and cognitive behavioural therapy, but the reflections of a tōjisha don’t begin and end at the individual. Instead, self-reflection is always shared, becoming a form of knowledge that can be communally reflected upon and improved. At Bethel House, members found it liberating that they could define themselves as ‘producers’ of a new form of knowledge, just like the doctors and scientists who diagnosed and studied them in hospital wards. The experiential knowledge of Bethel members now forms the basis of an open and shared public domain of collective knowledge about mental health, one distributed through books, newspaper articles, documentaries and social media." (Japan's radical alternative to psychiatric diagnosis, Satsuki Ayayais and Junko Kitanaka, ).

Anyway, thought I'd share those things to sort of point you in the direction of other people thinking about madness outside of the DSM. if you end up doing any more thought or creation for this idea, def feel free to share with me! I love seeing all the ways people take apart the DSM and build our own knowledge, and would love to keep updated.

best of luck, anon!

#asks #psych abolition #mad liberation #mad pride #ableism

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wrongcaitlyn · 7 months ago

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hello there, i come here on very important, very SERIOUS business. do you have any specific ideas on what nico and will look like in your fic? ive been wanting to draw fanart (at a later date im busier than ever this week) but i dont want to get how they look wrong c:

OHMYGOD OKAY OKAY IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE TO THIS BUT I WANTED TO PROPERLY RESPOND TO IT LIKE WITH FULL THOUGHTS AND EVERYTHING BECAUSE YOU ARE RIGHT THIS IS VERY VERY VERY IMPORTANT AND SERIOUS BUSINESS

okay so. my issue is that like i have a vague blur of them in my head that's kinda a mix of a bunch of fanart. i'm gonna tag a few artists that i think just capture the exact idea i have of them perfectly (in talk your talk, but also just like, in general, because i do picture them both pretty similarly in any au/fic):

@delicate-sketch is the first one and i think the most accurate (in my opinion and my brain because obviously there are a million ways to picture these charactersjsdf) of them all, i just- THEY ARE NICO AND WILL. LIKE. IT'S LITERALLY. PERFECTION. so i'd say that's the closest to the blurry images of people i have in my head, and also just the style of nico, i absolutely am obsessed with their art style!! most specifically nico. like. that. IS. nico.

@/aqua.en.llamas on insta also has the most incrediblee solangelo art, but even more specifically will. ive been the hugest fan of her for ages, have edited her fanart a few times - i think she was one of the first pjo artists that i followed back when i was getting into the fandom, so that may have definitely influenced my vision of will in my head!!

@svetalmeow 's will and nico is also. just. heart eyes. in an appreciating the art and the literally perfectly accurate depiction of the character way. I LITERALLY LOVE IT LIKSEJSDAF i would repost specific pieces of art but don't wanna do that without permission and also don't want to just choose one piece of art so like scroll through their entire page for wonderful wonderful solangelo

and then here's my brief and sort of bad description of how they look because honestly the only things i know how to describe are hair and clothes (and even the clothes bit is questionable)

will has curly short blond hair, but i imagine that it gets very frizzy a lot of the time and turns out looking more fluffy some of the time - but yeah okay here are some pics i just downloaded off pinterestSLKJDF

i'd say this is pretty close to how i imagine will's hair but again it's literally all blurry and also i suck at picturing faces in my head so like just go on vibes i trust that you'll do it well (and also, if it doesn't match my picture of them, that LITERALLY doesn't matter this is your art and feel free to draw them however you like!!)

then onto nico, i think the best way to describe it is just

conan gray-

KSDFJSDFS YEAH SORRY THAT'S IT. THAT'S REALLY IT I JUST. I PICTURE CONAN GRAYSLKDF but like maybe slightlyyyy shorter hair. his hair got super long during superache era (which was absolutely GORGEOUS AND ICONIC AND I LOVED IT) but yeah i think nico's was a bit shorter. just above the shoulder and lots of layers i'd say

as for clothing style, i think they're both pretty lazy dressers. like will's go-to is just any kind of tee-shirt (he has a lot of tour merch and that's like a good majority of his closet) or college merch like an nyu hoodie and baggy jeans or cargo pants, and nico is either wearing his own merch (literally just because there are, i imagine, a lot of messed up ones or like misprints and stuff and so he just takes whatever is messed up and shoves it in his own closet-) and lots of will's clothes. and then black jeans or sweatpans). the other portion of nico is if you're doing smth that he was styled for, in which it could be either smth super fancy (again, your best bet is prob looking up conan gray red carpet looksDSFLKJ) or like a leather jacket and a tee-shirt with some sort of skull or skeleton

as for features, i have absolutely zero clue, so there's no way to mess that up. there's no way to mess up at all, actually, and im SO EXCITED TO SEE WHAT YOU MAKE AHHGSDKF ILY <33

#wrongcaitlyn #talk ur talk asks

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achangeinreality · 6 months ago

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Here is the second part! I pasted it from google docs and some stuff like italics, bold, and horizontal lines didn’t transfer properly. I tried going through it and fixing that stuff but I don’t think I did a very job my bad lol

Encounters Part 2

Sigma Octanus IV

2552

Linda sighed in relief as the last of those she was responsible for evacuating got on the Pelican. There hadn’t been many to evacuate but any was better than none. She was still covered in both James blood and whatever that hulking monstrosity they came across in the museum’s blood. Of all the funky and horrible variety of aliens that she had come across in her life, this was a new one. It had taken all of her and her fellow Spartan’s effort to bring one down. She was sure that Halsey was going to have a field day reviewing all of their new data. As their pelican linked up with the Leviathan, Linda started to feel a knot in her stomach. Surely they would find a more efficient way to bring down whatever these new creatures were. She wasn’t too keen on the idea of another soldier losing an arm to one of these every time they fought one. Lost in thought, Linda made her way off the pelican. As she got off, Linda looked up to see a squad of ODSTs talking amongst themselves. One of them had an oddly familiar posture. She stared at the soldier and felt thrown back in time when she caught sight of the side of the woman’s face.

“Hagan?”, she inquired incredulously. The soldier spun around at the voice and her mouth dropped as she looked at the hulking Spartan before her. She looked at Linda’s insignia before responding with. “Spartan 058??” She saluted and stood at attention at her superior. “At ease, soldier. It’s good to see you, I didn’t think I’d run into you again.” Ira chuckled but before she could respond, one of her teammates interrupted. “Is there anything you need from Corporal Hagan sir?”, asked a man in his 40s and a rather pointed look. Linda took him in, his posture was stiff, his expression was disapproving, and the way his arms were crossed gave off an air of disdain. It was no secret that between Spartans and ODSTs, they didn’t necessarily get along. Linda never fully understood why every ODST made it their personal mission to act like a thorn in their sides when it would really be more productive to just get along. She sized him up and said, “Actually yes, but that’s none of your concern. Corporal I’d like to talk to you in the mess hall later but I am preoccupied at the moment. Does 2100 hours work for you? I realize it is late.” She could have sworn that a small chuckle started to escape from Hagan’s mouth. The corporal replied with, “Yes sir I will be available at that time. It is very good to see you again, am I free to go?” Linda looked at her and took her in. She had changed over the years. Gone was the naive, young look in her eyes. Rather replaced by the reflections of war and death. A look she recognized in herself and her family alike. She answered, “Dismissed soldier. I look forward to our meeting.” Hagan gave her a small smile and walked away.

Oh my god what just happened, what do I do?, she thought. Ira sped walk to the dorms to get herself cleaned up. Her mind was racing at the encounter she had just had with Spartan 058. There were too many things to unpack. Never in a million years did she ever think she’d come across the Spartan again. Not to mention the fact that she actually remembered her. And to top it off, she wanted to talk to her later? Why? What was happening? Peace with the Covenant seemed more likely than the series of events that had just transpired.

Over the years, Ira Hagan had grown exponentially. Her encounter with death on Draco III had changed her life so dramatically that she barely recognized herself most days. More often than not she dreamt of her friends and family, except they weren’t how she remembered them. They were gory and undead. The massacre she survived scarred her in more ways than she could count, to the point where it twisted and tarnished the faces in her past. It seemed like death was not done chasing her, seeing as just the day of her ceremony, the space station was attacked. This time however, she was not in any condition to fight. She had the marines on the space station to thank for escorting her and anyone else that was at the med bay to safety. Ira had been evacuated to yet another ship, which then engaged in another fight against the CPV class heavy destroyer, The Guiding Light. The worst part about this was that the entire time, she was stuck in a hospital bed with nothing to do but be afraid and think.

For two days she wallowed in self pity and trembled in fear at the thought of being boarded and given the same fate that her teammates on Draco III received. On the third, fateful day, that fear almost became reality. The enemy ship must have sent an infiltration team because out of nowhere, she started to hear scuffling and chittering sounds from the next room. Heart pounding and lightheaded, she held her hand to her mouth to keep herself as quiet as possible. She used her other hand to press the comm button on her data pad.

”Covenant in the med bay,” she whispered softly, praying that no one answered back lest she be noticed. She received a text message from the security team that acknowledged her warning. Ira rose up slowly and quietly out of bed. She had been given a few get-well gifts from those onboard and one of those gifts had been a small but effective hunting knife. She gripped the handle so hard that her knuckles went white. Ira got back in bed and pretended to be asleep as she heard the doors slide open. A metal tray clattered to the floor. It almost caused her to jump and reveal her façade but she stayed stone still. She could hear one of them poking the beds with their gun, likely a ranged weapon of some sort. As it got closer to her, the doors opened up again and this time, the sounds of gunfire and human voices flooded the room. Her would-be attacker turned his back to her and screeched. It ducked and held its rifle up to shoot back when Ira turned in her spot and brought the knife down in its neck. It didn’t die immediately but the adrenaline coursing through her was so much that she ripped the blade right out and stabbed, over and over and over again. Her face and hands became covered in dark stinking blood but she was unfazed. Given that the marines had the upper hand in this situation, they finished the rest of the infiltrators. She laid back in bed, shaking and breathing heavily. Every nerve inside of her was on fire and the only thing she wanted to do was keep fighting.

After the fight subsided, a revelation came to her. She must not be so bad at war. She must be more capable than she thought herself to be. Ira realized that her circumstances were sort of incredible. She somehow survived a world wide massacre, was rescued by a team of Spartans, got shot, hit on one of the Spartans, survived the wound, got slam dunked when she tried flirting with the same Spartan again, and then survived another fight against the Covenant while laying injured in a hospital bed. And to top it off, she didn’t want to stop. Ira wanted to keep going. To keep fighting, protecting, and avenging. For when she killed the Jackal, every stab felt like an homage to each of her teammates. And there had been so many more that died than simply 4. It was decided right then and there that she must do better. She must focus on her skills and fight until every last one of the Covenant falls. It was not a better night when she went to sleep later that day. But at least in the morning her conviction was strengthened.

As for right now however, she was as nervous as her first day of boot camp. Surely the Spartan didn’t remember that incredibly embarrassing memory did she…? Of course not, it was silly and surely she had much more important and crazy things happen to her than that thing. Ira cringed heavily at the blurry memory of laying down, covered in grime, high as a kite telling the Spartan she was so so pretty. In all honesty she would actually rather be fighting an alien than be reliving the memory.

After showering, Ira brushed her long, wet, black hair. The UNSC regulations required hair to be chin length or less for women or in a secure hairstyle. Ira’s favorite part of the day was taking the tight bun that she normally wore down. It was so uncomfortable against her helmet that she often considered just hacking off her hair. But it was one of the only ways that she could remember her mother. Ira’s mom had long black hair for as long as she could remember and it felt comforting to keep her own long too. Ira considered leaving it down, since the meeting would take place after hours. But she was technically still on duty and in the presence of a superior officer so… it was a no go. Up it went into a tightly braided ponytail this time. She hoped that the light mascara and tinted chapstick wasn’t too much.

Ira waited so long for the right time to come that by 2045 she was already making her way down to the mess hall. There weren’t a lot of people in the hall by then and no food was being served. Still though, it was quiet and most importantly, she was waiting on someone. Ira walked over to the water fountain and served herself a glass of water. She sat down at one of the corner tables and fidgeted with the glass. After 20 minutes, Ira’s stomach started to twist and turn. Surely the Spartan would be here soon. Another 10 minutes went by and Spartan 058 was still nowhere in sight. Ira felt a tightness in her throat as she started to remember their last interaction. “I would have still meant what I said,” she had told the Spartan. She wasn’t sure what kind of response she expected to get but complete silence wasn’t what Ira thought it’d be. It stung pretty hard then but looking back, it had been completely preposterous of her to double down when she didn’t even know the Spartan’s orientation. Still, Ira would have preferred a strongly worded lecture or even a write up instead of complete silence. Oh to be naive and young again, she thought.

As all hope started to feel lost, an extremely tall and muscular woman walked in. “Corporal Hagan at ease, I apologize for my tardiness. I was detained for longer than I had anticipated. Thank you for waiting,” she said. Ira smiled and fought the urge to wave her over. She had been mid-stand up when the Petty Officer said, at ease. Linda walked over to the table and sat front facing Ira. Ira looked at her and thought, I’m fucked.

Linda was glad to see that Corporal Hagan was still in the mess hall waiting for her. As 2100 came closer, she started to get uncomfortable. It wasn’t in her character to be late to things and especially not meetings that she was responsible for. It irked her that this debriefing was taking so long. Each Spartan had gone in to answer questions at least 3 times, what else was there to reveal? They wore cameras in their helmets for a reason for god’s sake. Needless to say, by the time they were all dismissed, Linda made her way to the mess hall. She greeted the corporal and sat down in front of her. Neither woman said anything for a moment but there it was again, the intense, soul burning stare that the corporal was so keen on using. It unsettled Linda because she struggled with eye contact yet found herself unable to look away. The corporal spoke first. “How are you?”

“I’m good. I was surprised to see you again. When did you become a corporal?” Linda was pretty proud of herself for being able to string more than 1 sentence together this time around. She had been practicing in her head and listening to other people’s conversations in the last few years. It’s not that she found very many people to have conversations with other than her fellow Spartans, but she didn’t like the feeling of being lost for words. It was her choice to be silent and observant, but she didn’t like feeling forced to stay that way simply because her conversational skills were inadequate. She supposed this was one of the biggest hurdles that Spartans struggled with. They were not raised to be socially adept, rather to be lethal killing machines and for a long time it wasn’t something she stopped to ponder on. But surely there was more to life than killing. And right now, catching up with the corporal was her mission.

“A good surprise I hope. I was promoted last year,” Ira replied. Linda tried smiling but it felt unnatural and forced so she let her face relax instead. “Of course. I’m glad to know you have survived all this time, and an ODST no less. You must be proud,” she added. Ira’s eyes brightened and her whole face lit up. “Well I worked really hard to become one so yeah I am pretty proud! What about you, anything new?” Oh this was where conversing got difficult for Linda. Truth be told there wasn’t much she could say about herself. So much of her life was classified that it was hard to answer truthfully. In the last 8 years she had gotten an upgraded Mjolnir armor, seen countless worlds go up in flames, and now she had encountered a new species of the covenant. But none of that was eligible for discussion. Classified. Just like everything there was to know about her. Linda shifted uncomfortably and made an effort to appear unperturbed. Before she could answer, Ira asked, “Classified?” Linda felt herself relax a little and she nodded. However, she was determined to not let herself get tongue tied and so she added, “It’s like you read my mind. But I guess at the end of the day nothing is actually new. Same enemy, same fight as you know.” Ira nodded in acknowledgment. She then asked, “So… what brought this meeting on?” Linda looked at Ira for a second. The woman looked young but there was a hardened, more mature atmosphere to her demeanor than their last meeting. Not uncommon in their line of work, it was a consequence of war. “My name is Linda,” she said awkwardly. It had come to Linda’s attention that she had never actually told the corporal her name. After listening to several conversations over the years, that seemed to be the starting point for most casual interactions. Ira smiled warmly and responded, “My name is Iradell but everyone calls me Ira. Thanks for telling me your name. I was starting to get tired of referring to you as Spartan 058 in my head.” Linda cocked her head slightly and asked, “I’m in your thoughts?”

Ira had been blessed with tan, olive skin that very rarely burned in the sun or got noticeably red. But in this moment she could feel her entire body burning crimson. Her voice hitched in her throat and she inwardly cursed the day of her birth. Instead of running to the airlock for self destruction, she choked out, “I didn’t mean it like that, I just sometimes wonder if you’re out there saving people like you did me.” Linda looked at her confused and asked, “Why are you red? Do you need more water?” It was at this moment that the airlock was starting to sound more and more like a good idea. However, from what Ira could tell, Linda didn’t seem super socially aware. It was probably a byproduct of her career choice seeing as conversation seemed a little difficult for her despite her efforts. It was likely that Spartans didn’t get a lot of down time and so these kinds of interactions were likely not often for them. This could be a saving grace for Ira’s deeply embarrassing slip up since Linda clearly didn’t understand her reaction. “Yeah let me go get more water I’ll be right back,” she said and walked over to the water fountain.

There it was again, the feeling like something had just happened that she was unable to understand. Linda felt like she was squandering this social interaction. Maybe this was a bad idea. Everyone Linda cared about was either dead or at imminent risk of death so what was the point of trying to befriend someone who was likely to meet the same fate sooner than later? She frowned at herself. No, she would keep trying. It wasn’t in her character to give up easily. When Ira sat back down, noticeably less red, she told Linda, “So uh my birthday is in 2 days. My teammates were going to throw me a little party in the evening. Would you like to come?” Linda brightened up, glad that she wasn’t doing as terribly at socializing as she thought. A party? She had seen marines celebrate other soldier’s birthdays in the mess hall a few times before but she never partook in them. None of the Spartans had ever had a ‘birthday party’ either seeing as none of them knew their actual birthdays. Nevertheless, a first time for everything. She answered back, “I’m going to be on this ship for the next few days so I will be available to attend. Thank you for inviting me.” Ira smiled in relief and exclaimed, “Oh good! I’ve been looking forward to it. I’ve been so preoccupied that this is the first time in 3 years since anyone has celebrated my birthday. I’ll be turning a ripe 28 this year!” Linda almost choked on her spit when she heard Ira’s age. Was she old? Ira added, “Can I ask you something?” Linda nodded in agreement. “Is your birthday coming up anytime soon? Maybe I can send you a gift if we’re on other ends of the universe!” There it was. The dreaded question that Linda sometimes found herself wondering as well. Sometimes on particularly difficult nights she thought to herself, is it today? Linda sighed and answered, “I don’t know when my birthday is. I don’t have access to that information.”

Ira fell silent suddenly. She didn’t want the moment to feel awkward but she was also incredibly curious. To not know one’s birthday must mean that something pretty significant must have happened during early childhood. Maybe her parents had passed away? She couldn’t ask that it was too personal a question. Before Ira could say anything Linda followed up with, “I was adopted. The people who took me in never bothered to fill me in on my previous life.” There was something fishy about the answer but Ira didn’t want to push it. “Oh I’m sorry to hear that. Do you know your age at least?,” Ira asked. Finally a question that Linda could answer. “Yes I’m 41.” Something warm stirred in Ira. She pushed it away and stayed focused. “Hey at least that’s not classified! Now I know something about you,” she said, smiling. Linda’s mouth opened slightly. That was not the answer she thought she’d get.

“Yes I suppose that’s true.” She noticed that Ira’s pupils had dilated slightly more than they already were. Was it too dark in the room? She wouldn’t know given her night vision augmentations. But then again she remembered that all those years ago at the award ceremony when she had gone up to Ira to talk to her, her eyes were dilated then too and it was rather bright in the room. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you scared of me?” Linda inquired. Ira looked taken aback and confused.

“No, why would you ask that?”

”Because your pupils dilate when you talk to me and I’ve only ever seen that on people that look at me in fear,” Linda replied. Again, Ira went red but froze this time. I said something wrong didn’t I?, Linda thought. Ira let out an awkward laugh and looked down at the table, closing her eyes. She looked back up at the Spartan who was now looking at her inquisitively. Ira took a deep breath and responded, “I’m not scared of you. I’m attracted to you. I wasn’t going to say anything about it but I didn’t realize my involuntary reactions were so loud.” This time it was Linda’s turn to blush deeply. And once again, a complete lack of ability to respond to the situation. She felt her brain lagging at the words just like the last time. Linda swallowed and was finally able to let out a tight, “I’m sorry, I did not mean to intrude.” Ira closed her eyes and sighed, feeling an old painful tug in her heart. “It’s okay,” she said in defeat. Both women sat in silence for a moment. Ira stayed sitting with her eyes closed and Linda simply stayed looking at her, mind still lagging. Even though the moment was only 5 seconds, for Linda it was lifetimes. Spartan time was something every Spartan II knew how to control to avoid time feeling like it was overly slowed. But sometimes, it was to her advantage that she could experience a moment longer than normal people could. She took advantage of the moment this time to think. This was uncharted waters for her because not only did this woman admit to being attracted to her 3 times by now, but Linda wasn’t entirely sure that she wasn’t. There were so many problems with this though. For one, UNSC regulations did not allow for members of the military to become entangled with another, let alone someone of a much lower rank. Secondly, Linda didn’t have the emotional capacity to let someone other than another Spartan II in. And this was something that she was painfully aware of. Not only that but it would be grossly irresponsible for Linda to allow someone to attach themselves to her when her life was in constant danger. It went both ways but that wasn’t something she was ready to think about. With all of this in mind, why did she feel a warmth in her chest when Ira admitted her attraction? It didn’t make sense.

”Your eyes have also been dilated the entire time you’ve been talking to me. I don’t suppose you’re scared of me either.” Ira’s eyes had opened and she was looking at Linda boldly now. Ira wasn’t a child anymore. Not that she was 8 years ago either but she was certainly more of an adult now. If this war had taught her anything, it was that at literally any point in time, regardless of how prepared or how good your skills were, death could always take you. She had seen so many people of higher and lower rank meet the same fiery, grisly death that she was just happy to still be breathing now. Uncomfortable as the situation had suddenly gotten, Ira wasn’t a child anymore. “This can’t happen. I’m sorry for bringing it up but I know you understand that this can’t go anywhere,” Linda replied. Ira nodded then said, “So you like me too then?” Linda exhaled and rolled her eyes, saying, “I didn’t say that.”

“Then tell me otherwise,” Ira challenged. Linda looked at her with a peeved look. She stood up and turned towards the direction of the dorms. Before she walked away she said softly, “Goodnight, Corporal.”

”Wait-“ Ira began, standing up too but it was too late. Linda’s long legs had already crossed the room and turned the corner. Ira tried to catch up but she had disappeared by the time Ira got to the doorway. She sighed and leaned against the wall with her eyes closed. With heavy eyes and a heavier heart, Ira made her way to the dorms as well, determined to get some much needed rest.

#halo #fanfic #linda 058 #linda058 x OC #kelly 087 #fred 104 #john 117 #socially awkward lesbian

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maximura · 10 months ago

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Ad Astra: The Theory Of Relativity | An Interstellar Ateez story Part I | Part II | Part III | Park IV (Words 5130, Warnings: mild swearing)

It's just after 7pm when they finally pull up the dirt driveway to their home. The sun has set in the sky, its blue hour casting a soothing indigo over the property, and although they can't see them clearly, the gentle rustle from the surrounding corn fields comforts something deep within Hongjoong's soul. They've all been so careless to take this scene for granted every single day.

Kyungmoon is relieved as he greets the brothers at the door, indulging Wooyoung in his tall tales and energy but when he catches Hongjoong's eyes, he silently motions upstairs, where Yunho must still be.

"He's been worried." The older man says by way of explanation, "He helped me make dinner but didn't want to eat it until you got back. You might want to go talk to him."

"Thanks Uncle Moonie," Hongjoong nods. "I'll do it now."

After Wooyoung finally allows their uncle to go home, they both head to the kitchen to grab a drink of water, still parched from the day's events, and that's when they notice that Yunho had set the table already, all three plates and glasses flipped upside down to prevent any dust collecting.

"Oh nice, corn cakes!" Wooyoung rushes forward when he spots the food containers, only to be abruptly yanked back by the neck of his hoody.

"No."

"What? It's dinner time isn't it?"

"Wait till I get Yunho. You know he's upset about today. Do not eat anything until I get back."

"Because we went without him?" Wooyoung asks. "He should've come with us."

Hongjoong sighs. "Just sit and wait."

He makes his way up the stairs and knocks gently on Yunho's bedroom door. There's nothing for a few seconds but he resists the urge to barge in, remembering how much he hated that when he was teenager himself.

"Yunho? It's just me, can I come in?"

"No."

"Well, okay, can I talk to you through the door then?"

"Just go away Hongjoong. I'm fine."

They haven't fought in such a long time that Hongjoong wonders if things have been building up to this anyway.

"Sorry I didn't radio in this afternoon. They took the truck from us for a while but we're both fine now."

There's silence after this and Hongjoong knocks again.

"Yunho?"

"Leave me alone Hongjoong, I said I'm fine!"

If today was any other day, if NASA stayed dead, if there was no hopeful future to think about, if their parents never died, if he was just an older brother who only needed to think about himself, Hongjoong would've walked away and given his brother the space to deal with his emotions on his own.

But in his heart, even without committing to anything, he knows their lives will change now. He doesn't have the luxury of time, none of them do, and now more than ever, he doesn't want to waste it over small petty misunderstandings or disagreements.

"Okay but I just wanted to say sorry for coming home so late." Hongjoong says to Yunho's door. "Thanks for making us dinner by the way, that was really good of you, but your brother is about to eat the whole thing if you don't come down."

It's then that he hears angry stomping and the door being wrenched open with such force that the rush of air ruffles Hongjoong's hair into his eyes.

"But that's for all of us! God, why is he so annoying!?"

Yunho rarely gets angry for long but he's a teenager like any other and not immune to exploding with volcanic rage. Right now, he fills up the entire doorway and Hongjoong has to take a step backwards to make some space.

He's grown so tall now, towering head and shoulders above nearly everyone, and for a split second, with his balled fists and tightly wound muscles, Hongjoong wonders if his brother has ever wanted to punch him in the face just to release the anger.

But the rage always fizzles out as quickly as it boils over.

On seeing his older brother standing there with tired shadows under his eyes and the same crumpled clothes he's seen a million times before, Yunho slowly lets the feelings of betrayal fade away, only to find them replaced by shame and guilt.

Hongjoong catches the change as it happens and knows he has to derail that train of thought.

"Well, hate to break it to you but he's not adopted and it's completely genetic."

Yunho huffs out a laugh, almost against his will, but the fight has left his body now. He isn't completely immune to Dad Jokes yet.

“He’s kinda stuck with us forever, so don't be too mad at him."

"I'm not mad at him." Yunho says, voice back to normal.

"Are you mad at me? It's okay if you are."

Yunho doesn't answer, preferring to silently stare at their feet. Hongjoong was still in his sturdy old work boots but Yunho’s much larger feet were encased in blue slippers and the old dog socks that their mum had given them all one year. It makes Hongjoong suddenly nostalgic for Christmas holidays, back when it was a day to actually celebrate and not actively dread because another year was over.

"Come on, it's been a long day, do you want to come down and eat dinner with us? You did all the hard work for it."

Yunho shoulders slump and he lets out a defeated sigh. "Fine."

The mood is a little brighter over dinner and even though Hongjoong is relieved that Yunho rarely holds much of a grudge, he also knows that his brother masks his hurt the best out of the three of them. Hongjoong is mostly too tired to pretend and Wooyoung broadcasts his emotions on every wavelength and frequency that exists, whether he realises it or not.

But ever since he was a child, Yunho had often chosen to suffer in silence, especially if it meant keeping the peace.

It's why Hongjoong is knocking on his door again at bedtime.

"Hey Yunho, it's me. Can I talk to you for a bit?"

This time his brother opens the door and invites him in.

In stark contrast to Wooyoung's biohazard of a bedroom, Yunho's was much neater: with cleaned floors, a closet of folded clothes and a desk only half littered with homework. There are two photo frames on the bookshelf: one of them all at an amusement park with their parents and another from last year when Wooyoung had won a science competition at school.

“I just wanted to say sorry about today again.” Hongjoong says as he sits down at the desk.

"It's okay Hongjoong, I know you had to go."

"Well, I didn't really and I didn't give you any notice so that was real shitty of me." Hongjoong says earnestly. "Is that what you were angry about?"

Yunho shrugs and looks at the floor.

There's a long pause followed by a barely audible mumble.

"What?"

Yunho sighs with pained effort and looks everywhere but at his brother.

“You both just left.” He says quietly. “I thought you weren't coming back.”

Hongjoong chest aches at the words. He fucked up and he knows it.

"I'm sorry," He repeats, knowing how inadequate it sounds now. "I know it was a stupid. I wasn't planning to leave you here by yourself. I didn't tell Wooyoung to come."

"Well, he went anyway."

"I know." Hongjoong says in exasperation, "I didn't want him to. He was supposed to stay here with you."

Yunho starts picking at the sleeves to his sweater but doesn't reply or look up.

“I know you hate it when I do stuff like this.” Hongjoong continues apologetically, "I really didn't plan to leave you alone like that."

Yunho shrugs again.

"I'm....I'm really trying to make better decisions that are important for us, all of us. You know that right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"I thought about turning back and taking you with us but your school's social worker is already hassling me about my "unconventional parenting."

Yunho looks up now. "She is?"

"Yeah, I think they're just waiting for me to mess up." Hongjoong chuckles bitterly.

"Well, she doesn't know anything." Yunho says with a scowl. "It's just her job to be like that with kids when their parents die."

"Well, as annoying as she is, it's good that you have people like that looking out for you guys at school."

"We can take care of ourselves too." Yunho says defiantly, voice now regaining back some of its confidence, albeit shakily. "I'm not a little kid."

"I know." Hongjoong smiles. "I know you can look after yourself and I know you can look after Wooyoung too but I'm still your older brother, so I'll keep trying not to do so many stupid reckless things. No guarantees but I'll try."

"You love doing stupid things though." Yunho mutters under his breath. "That's why you have no friends."

"Hey! I have friends!"

Yunho just gives him a withering look. "The Park uncles don't count and people you do jobs for don't count either."

"Yeah yeah whatever." Hongjoong says with a dismissive hand wave. "Hey, speaking of stupid things, what the hell happened with your driving test? And that punk on a bike?"

Yunho suddenly flops face down into his bed with a frustrated groan. "Why does everyone know about that?!"

"Because it's hilarious?" Hongjoong laughs. "So who is this kid? Someone in your class right? Have I met him? Her? Them?"

Yunho's ears turn bright red. "Do we have to have this conversation Hongjoong? I forgive you or whatever okay? Can we just stop talking about this now please?"

"Well, I'm trying to do more conventional parenting, so spill it: who is this giant that's got you so distracted that you almost crashed into Farmer Lee's paddock?"

With his face down in the pillows, all that comes from Yunho is muffled gibberish.

"What? I can't hear anything you're saying."

Yunho rolls over now to look at the ceiling, there's a deep blush colouring his cheeks. "It's just.......well, um, it's a...guy...I think."

Honjoong chuckles, "You think?"

It's then that it hits him; he may have known about Yunho's preferences for years but his brother is only figuring it out for himself now. He's tried his best to give Yunho a safe space to tell him, whenever he was ready to, but it never came.

He can't fuck this up now.

"Oh hey, that's cool! What's he like?"

Instead of answering, Yunho looks over at his older brother, eyes shifty and nervous at the over enthusiastic response. "So you're not...mad at me?"

"For what?"

"For....that it's not, you know, a girl?"

"No, Yunho. No. I am not mad at you." Hongjoong says gently but firmly, making sure there's no room for any misunderstanding. "That's the last thing I would be mad about, and besides, it would be kind of hypocritical of me to judge you for that."

There's a pause so deafening that they can both hear the wall clock tick tick in the room. Yunho eyes widen in shock as he slowly comes to the realisation about his brother.

"WHAT."

"What?"

"Since when were you...."

"Into guys?" Hongjoong supplies helpfully, "Since always little bro. So when you need to have that other talk, let me know. Safety first!"

"Oh my god. Make it stop." Yunho flops down into his pillows again. "We are not having that conversation right now!"

Hongjoong chuckles but decides to take pity on his brother; he remembers how big, life-altering and world-ending all his teenage crushes felt back then too. Young love is as potent a blessing and as it is a poisonous curse.

Adult love wasn't much better.

"Okay okay, I'm leaving. Get some sleep." Hongjoong rises from the table but can't resist walking over to thump Yunho's back a few times in solidarity. "I'm very proud of you today okay? Tell me when you want to have that other conversation. Anytime. Okay?"

There's a muffled "okay" in reply and a small “Thanks” as Hongjoong exits the room.

They will be fine.

But he can't go to sleep yet.

There's still the matter of the manic fourteen year old banging around in their basement instead of sleeping.

"Wooyoung, it's been a long day." Hongjoong rubs his eyes in exhaustion. "Can you leave the drone alone? It'll still be here in the morning."

Wooyoung is sitting in front of the dissected drone with a contemplative expression, like a surgeon about to engage in some delicate neurosurgery. Hongjoong sighs as he plucks the wire cutters from his brother's hand.

"Seonghwa can build robots. Did you know that?" Wooyoung asks him. "He probably told you when you had your meeting. He's so smart. And he's so nice. And he's so tall, I think he's definitely taller than you."

"How is that even important?" Hongjoong replies defensively as he tidies the mess of papers and pencils strewn around the work bench. "He's a know-it-all, is what he is."

Wooyoung blinks at him for a few seconds before going back to the drone. "Yeah that's what I meant: he's really smart."

"Why are you even on first names basis with him? You met him for like ten minutes."

"But that's his name? Doctor Park Seonghwa? He said to call him Seonghwa." Wooyoung says in confusion. "Why? What do you call him then?"

"This isn't relevant." Hongjoong mumbles dismissively. "That place is full of astrophysicists, they're all smart."

"I have to start building more robots.” Wooyoung announces matter-of-factly. “Seonghwa said he built his first one out of Lego when he was thirteen. I'm a whole year behind Hongjoong! I've only built radios and circuits. Do you think we can find some Lego?"

Oh God.

Raising a fourteen year old is a never ending cycle of lost battles.

“If you stop terrorising that drone and go to sleep right now, I'll ask around for some Lego. How's that?"

Wooyoung peers at him skeptically with a sharply raised eyebrow. “Tomorrow?”

"Sure, tomorrow."

"Okay, deal."

Hongjoong falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress but while his body is dead to the world, his mind is alive with visions of space shuttles, sunsets and a binary moon. He’s never alone in the dream but he doesn’t know who is next to him either. It’s someone kind. Someone who understands him. Someone he loves.

It isn't a nightmare, it doesn't feel like a dream, it just feels like a memory he hasn’t lived yet.

After their encounter with NASA, not that much changes for awhile. Hongjoong deliberately keeps it that way, not yet ready to face the big decisions looming in the distance. He doesn't tell Wooyoung all the details of that day at NASA, he doesn't tell Yunho or anyone else either, not out of sworn secrecy but out of fear for their reactions. It weighs heavily on his mind, like a persistent dark cloud that follows him everywhere.

Yeosang contacts him a few times to gather more details and sends through some proposals for his involvement. Professor Park calls him too, just to talk about the updates. He doesn't say 'yes' to anything but eventually agrees help with the training manual for the pilots. He can do that. It's easy to work on it when the boys are asleep. Nobody has to know. Nothing has to change.

One day, a week after he sends his suggestions for the pilot program, he's in the middle of fixing their neighbour's tractor when a package arrives in the mail, hand delivered by a man he's never seen in these parts of town before.

Dear Mr Kim,

On behalf of the astrophysics and aerospace divisions at NASA, we would like to acknowledge and thank you for your submission regarding the current pilot program. Your suggestions will now enter the appropriate channels for review and consideration. Please contact me should you have any further questions or wish to extend your involvement.

Regards,

Dr Kang Yeosang

NASA Head Of Public Relations and Communications

Hongjoong folds the letter back into its envelope and stuffs them both in his desk drawer. This is enough involvement. He did what they had asked of him, his job is done for now, and he tries to put it out of his mind.

The school year drags on to keeps them all busy. Wooyoung's suspension is revoked when he promised to retake the science test. Of course he gets an A and Hongjoong feels smugly victorious about it, knowing Kim Yonghwan would've absolutely hated grading that and how it means the fourteen year old would not fail science after all.

Yunho passes his driving test on the second attempt. No bike distractions this time.

As the year draws to a close, there was the small matter of his high school graduation. Despite always doing well academically, Yunho had simply announced one day that he intended to keep working at the Lucky Corn Mill after graduation but also wanted to help Hongjoong with his engineering jobs.

"You can study at the university in the next town too." Hongjoong reminds him. "If you want that. We'll make it work."

But Yunho had shaken his head, "No, I want to stay here. I like working at the Mill and Uncle Moonie said he would level up my job if I learnt how to repair the machines like you do."

Hongjoong had been half skeptical, wondering if Yunho was keeping the peace again by taking the path that would be the most easy for their family. But when Hongjoong asks him this, he's met with an easy grin.

"No, I really want to stay here. Our town needs the Mill. I don't want to move to another place and not know anyone. Seems like a big hassle if you ask me."

It doesn't come as a surprise to Hongjoong. It was what he had expected. Wooyoung always had his head in the clouds, dreaming big dreams and having big ambitions that he didn't know how to realise, but Yunho was grounded in this town's dirt and dust, rooted in the same community that he grew up in and cared for.

The graduation day itself is a flurry of activity that seemed so unnecessary. It's unbelievable how stressful getting three sets of suits cleaned and ironed turns out to be. Wooyoung wears a tie and brushes his long dark hair only after the promise of more Lego and electronics to build his robots. Hongjoong caves in to the demands for the sake of his own sanity.

It all culminates in Yunho having an uncharacteristic crisis in the truck on the way to the ceremony.

"Don't embarrass me!" Yunho tells them firmly. "Especially you Wooyoung."

"What? Why especially me?"

"You always make so much noise and I swear to God, do not to ask every single person I introduce you to if we're dating. I'm not dating anyone! Got it?"

"Got it." Hongjoong salutes, while Wooyoung just mumbles something unintelligible.

"And don't dad my friends." This one he directs at his older brother.

"I don't do that!" Hongjoong replies defensively.

"Yes you do!" Both younger brothers yell in unison.

“Recommending sunscreen is not dad-behaviour. It’s just common sense. Our ozone layer is not what it used to be.”

Yunho sighs as Wooyoung wheezes like an asthmatic bird next to him.

“See all this?” Yunho says, gesturing to everything in the truck. “This is what I need you not to do!”

The graduation takes place in the school's indoor basketball court and it's all too familiar for Hongjoong, right down to the colours of the gowns, the cheerful balloons and streamers and the chatter of proud parents and overexcited teenagers.

Wooyoung is inhaling the free food and Hongjoong leaves him there to mingle with some parents he knows, like he's an Actual Responsible Adult now himself. He does not make eye contact with the social workers, just in case they have any more unsolicited feedback about his parenting skills.

Against strict instructions not to do it, they let out loud cheers when Yunho is called out with his classmates and Hongjoong finds it endearing how red his brother gets at the attention. There are two other tall boys in the class, one he knows already, the Song's only son Mingi, and one he's never met before. He wonders which one owns the infamous bike.

Wooyoung insists on being the official photographer of the event and sneaks up front to take copious photos of Yunho getting his certificate.

Third in his class.

Hongjoong is so proud of him. The overwhelming feeling sneaks up without warning and he doesn't realise he's tearing up until it's too late. The lump in his throat formed without his consent but as he claps and cheers, he thinks to himself, overcome with relief: I didn't fuck it up, he turned out okay.

After the formalities are done for the day, Yunho goes off to talk to his friends. They meet up later for a late lunch with Kyungmoon and Jonghoon, who gift Yunho with some new work boots that he tries on immediately.

As a treat, Hongjoong drives them both to a supermarket on the edge of town that still carried a small assortment of junk food that contained so many preservatives, they never really seemed to expire. They sit in the back of the pick up truck to eat it.

"Hongjoong CRIED. How lame!"

"Thanks Wooyoung. That's real nice of you to point that out, you little punk."

Yunho laughs and uses the good mood to ask Hongjoong for a sip of his beer. Hongjoong gives him a bottle of his own instead. It's a maize lager that's barely alcoholic at all but Yunho relishes every single drop of it like it was the best thing he's ever tasted.

Even in the time of a global food shortage, humankind will always find a way to manufacture alcohol.

Wooyoung sets the camera to takes a dopey photo of them all grinning like lunatics and while the boys fight over the last of the candy, Hongjoong can't help thinking that if life never gets better than this, it's okay.

They're okay. This is okay.

And they deserve so many more decades of it.

The weather is hot and dry over the summer school break. They have a few days of rain but it's not enough. Yunho takes more shifts at the Mill to help process as much of the existing crop as urgently as possible. On his days off from his regular jobs, Hongjoong takes Wooyoung to the Mill to help the Park brothers fulfill the orders that were coming in hard and fast.

The town is thrown into panic mode by the threat of a drought and it only slows down when they get a solid week of heavy rains. Jonghoon chuckles at the fickleness of the weather, lamenting poetically how mercurial and precarious it was for humankind's survival. It was all meant to lighten the mood but even the jokes had a bitter nervous edge to them.

Yunho takes renewed interest in mechanical engineering and Hongjoong is all too happy to pass on his knowledge, going as far as having Yunho tag along to his jobs, whenever he wasn’t at the Mill. As expected, he takes to it like a duck to water, but surprises them both with his capacity for learning.

Wooyoung litters the basement with what Hongjoong can only describe as a small army of Lego robots. They don’t question the teenager and leave him be, only periodically coming down to feed and water him.

Life is peaceful for a period.

Then several letters from NASA begin to arrive, increasing in frequency and then urgency.

Dear Mr Kim,

Following review from the aerospace division, we are pleased to advise that your suggestions were met with favourable agreement. Given the sensitive and complex nature of operations, we would be grateful if you could make contact regarding an in-person discussion on the best way to move forward with your involvement.

Regards,

Dr Kang Yeosang

NASA Head Of Public Relations and Communications

A week later, prompted by his lack of response, another letter arrives.

Dear Mr Kim,

I am writing on behalf of our aerospace division to follow up your response regarding your involvement with our pilot program. Please contact me to discuss this matter.

Regards,

Dr Kang Yeosang

NASA Head Of Public Relations and Communications

Dear Hongjoong,

Yeosang's gotten himself in a stress spiral over the pilot program. I read your suggestions and proposal, it was brilliant as expected. Please contact my poor colleague to save him from his descent into madness. Our young pilots would most benefit from your guidance, particularly in person.

The shuttle is coming along well. They will be mounting the boosters soon. I apologise for the urgency but time is always of the essence, as you know.

Please send my best to the boys.

Kind Regards,

Professor Park

NASA Director of Astrophysics and Aerospace Engineering, PhD

Dear Mr Kim,

I am writing to follow up on the numerous unanswered correspondence you have received from our organisation. I have word that the letters have arrived safely to you in person, please advise if you have moved residences since or remain confused by the information provided and need assistance.

As per our previous correspondence(s), I wish to reiterate the importance of our aerospace and pilot program and also remind you of their role in both our imminent and future stellar missions. We simply cannot proceed without their involvement.

I have read your suggestions for the pilot training program. It would seem your experience would be greatly beneficial to our young trainees.

Please advise Dr Kang Yeosang if you do not wish to remain involved in assisting our mission as his time, and mine, would be better served in less futile pursuits.

Regards,

Dr Park Seonghwa

NASA Deputy head of Astrophysics, Robotic Engineering and Interstellar Biology, PhD

Dear Doctor Park,

I am writing to confirm I have received and was able to read all the letters. I'm glad to hear my suggestions were helpful in some way. Contrary to popular belief, I have many other equally important commitments here.

I wasn't trying to waste Yeosang's time or yours but as I explained to your father before, my priority is to ensure the ongoing stability for my family. It would not be practical to travel multiple hours out of town to train your pilots on a regular basis.

I remain available to offer assistance in other forms.

Regards,

Kim Hongjoong

Dear Mr Kim,

It seems you are capable of answering correspondence in a timely manner after all.

I have taken the liberty of proposing a relocation of our partial pilot simulator to a venue more accessible to you. I believe it will cut down your travel time to half an hour each way. Yeosang will draw up a proposed schedule, taking into account the days you are available from your current occupation.

Please reply promptly if this is agreeable to you as I would like to progress this situation without further delays.

Regards,

Dr Park Seonghwa

NASA Deputy head of Astrophysics, Robotic Engineering and Interstellar Biology, PhD

Dear Doctor Park,

Yes, that would be agreeable.

Thank you,

Kim Hongjoong

Dear Mr Kim,

I have made arrangements for the partial simulator to be relocated to its new venue in 10 days. I have included all the details of such in this pack, including your security ID and paperwork, which you will need to return to Yeosang ASAP.

There is no set launch date available at this time but I am compelled to tell you that all pilots need to be ready when they are called.

Please do not lose your security ID. It is particularly tedious to obtain a replacement.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Regards,

Dr Park Seonghwa

NASA Deputy head of Astrophysics, Robotic Engineering and Interstellar Biology, PhD

Dear Doctor Park,

Thank you for making the arrangements. It’s incredible that you were able to do all that so quickly. As per your threat, I have returned all the security paperwork to Yeosang this morning.

There might be typos and one of Wooyoung’s robots spilled coffee on the pages.

I’m looking forward to meeting your pilots.

Regards,

Hongjoong

P.S I will try my best not to lose the security ID

Dear Mr Kim,

I have confirmed that Yeosang has received your paperwork and processed it. It was rather difficult with the coffee staining but he is a professional after all.

I am glad to hear that your brother has chosen to take his talent for science so seriously. Robotics is a noble pursuit with significant benefits to society.

Regards,

Dr Park Seonghwa

NASA Deputy head of Astrophysics, Robotic Engineering and Interstellar Biology, PhD

P.S Please do not include P.S notes in official correspondence letters

Dear Doctor Park,

Please send my apologies to Yeosang for all the inconveniences.

Wooyoung insists I say Hi to you on his behalf. He’s threatening to send his robot army to kill me in my sleep if I don’t.

Regards,

Hongjoong

P.S Okay

Dear Mr Kim,

It is perplexing that you continually choose to be contrary to my recommendations. I also note the lack of apology to myself, who also had to assist with your coffee stained paperwork.

Please advise Wooyoung that I said Hello and wish him the best with his killer robot army. I am certain their enemy will be of no match.

Regards,

Dr Park Seonghwa

NASA Deputy head of Astrophysics, Robotic Engineering and Interstellar Biology, PhD

P.S Please stop this, it’s unprofessional

Dear Doctor Park,

I didn’t apologise to you because it seems like my brother is trying to follow in your footsteps and has taken over our entire basement. I had to ask the entire town for all their old Lego bricks, they all think I’ve gone nuts now.

The Coffee Incident is your fault. So I’m not sorry. Wooyoung wants to show you his killer robot army one day but I’m sure you’ve got plenty of other important things to do.

Yeosang gave me my new schedule, thank you for taking my job and brothers into account. I’m meeting your new pilots in two days. Will the rest of the team be there too?

Regards,

Hongjoong

Dear Mr Kim,

The rest of the team is not required to attend. Relevant members of the aerospace division will be present to provide you with orientation but I understand you are already well familiar with how the simulators work.

You will be asked to provide direct feedback to my father or Yeosang, however you may also send your evaluation reports to me directly if it is easier.

Please advise Wooyoung that when time permits, it would give me great pleasure to see his killer robot army. Unfortunately, at present I am trying to find solutions for interstellar biodynamic viability.

Your lack of remorse is deeply disrespectful but expected for one so unappreciative of robotics. I send Wooyoung my condolences.

Regards,

Dr Park Seonghwa

NASA Deputy head of Astrophysics, Robotic Engineering and Interstellar Biology, PhD

P.S: I wish you the best for your first day with our pilots

#Ad Astra: The Theory Of Relativity #Ateez Fic #Ateez AU #Hongjoong #Seonghwa #Wooyoung #Yunho #Interstellar AU #Ateez #this deviates from the original movie and i always thought it was a pity we never learn much about young tom (Yunho's character)#if you have questions that need to be clarified i am happy to answer them #but there's not that much science in this one

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