#making that my billy tag so I can keep track while...not putting it in his actual tag. This is for analysis purposes solely lmao

[emblazons]

…rewatching S3 after having dug SO HARD to understand the other seasons and make sense of connections I was struggling with most…GOD. Every single little detail is just as present in the other seasons, and even though I have liked it least for a LONG time....even I’m gonna have to admit I may have been too hasty in judging it over it’s aesthetic changes putting me off lol

For example:

The way Vecna/Henry/001 is present in the narrative even if we don't know it officially until the "reveal," in S04E07 and the parallels they present with Billy (his S3 target) are meant to jog your memory:

(I could literally do like. a 3000 word post on this alone but here are just a few)

The way that we can already see how Mike's true romantic arc is being set up in their wider exposition, as something that shows his affection for Will is romantic...and how he takes Lucas' romantic advice and does it easily...when it's for the boy he actually loves lol

Along with the way Jonathan Byers (like his mother) is honestly always right, the way we can deduce what was Vecna visions and what wasn't based on what happens with Billy...and even the fuller introduction of the theme of confomity across Hawkins.

Like...there's just so much, and I feel like the overall dislike of Billy as a character has made it...curiously undervalued as overall ST exposition lmao. (Basically: S3 is having a Mike Wheeler arc for me. Hating how different it seemed at first, only to look back with new context and realize what was happening was just a shift meant to cover something deeper going on 😭😂)

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Darkness, Imprisoning Me | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Gif credit to @billy-crudup

Synopsis: News reports of The Butcher leaving his latest victim across the street from your house wasn't enough to spook you, not even into locking your doors. In fact, you were enticed by the idea of him getting in. But is it everything you wanted?

Warnings: Dark!Fic, Angst, Mentions of Murder, Victim!Reader, Cooper is so cute then a baddie, Essentially what I would think would go down with The Butcher

Rating: R

Word Count: 6.2K

A/N: I promise to write fluff pieces with Cooper eventually, but this man has such a choke hold on me I cannot contain. It’s the parasite in me, I blame them. I need the angst, I need the hurt. Originally this was gonna be just straight up porn but, I didn’t want to burn out.

Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

“The Butcher is a megalomanic, a typical wolf in sheep’s clothing. They’re meticulous and calculated. They are the perfect killer – and that is exactly why they slipped out from under the FBI’s nose.”

Calculated, that is the best way to describe most things in life, explain most passions as well. It isn’t a bad thing to be calculated, no, it’s a good thing after all. There is something about knowing that you are taking precautions and closing gaps before they can form that is rewarding. The endorphins it sends to the brain get mistaken for happiness and content. Calculated is good, calculated is safe. It means there are no possible tracks to follow or fall back on; A burned, fraying edge of a ribbon. It shrivels up under the intensity until nothing stands but a solid nub of what used to be. Calculated keeps the sanity flowing, for the opposing party that is. It brings a great sense of pride to the killer, knowing they are untraceable. Until they’re not; Their day of reckoning comes quick, quicker than they anticipate. They cannot run or hide anymore – they become infamous, they become hated. They become real.

That’s what your criminology professor used to say before she got on the case of The Butcher – what the media is dubbing him – a psychopath who likes to lure their victims into a sense of security, torture them, and then dispose of them in public places. The kicker? It’s never in one piece. All twelve victims so far have been cut into fourteen pieces, never thirteen. It made sense, thirteen being the unlucky number after all – it created a sense of bad luck for all killers to dwell on. But not The Butcher, they were clean. They clearly were not a loner; this was someone who could blend in at the drop of a hat. Disappear quickly if need be and never look back. Yet in Philly, everyone seemed that way.

Moving here wasn’t ideal for you, but Penn State offered you a great position as a first-year professor while you were pursuing your last year of your Masters. You’d be a fool to pass up that opportunity; The pay wasn’t awful but, it put you right where you wanted to be. Being the trainee of Dr. Josephine Grant was a dream come true, working under her and picking her brain about serial killers was exactly what you wanted. Since you were a kid, growing up watching all of those crime shows when everyone thought you were sleeping, you felt a connection to the field, like it was beckoning you. There was something about putting a psychopath away and finding out why they committed their crimes that intrigued you. What fired off in their synapses to where they thought killing was the only way to conduct their life. You wanted to make a change in the criminal justice field; You wanted to be that change. Philly happened to have a sociopath of their own running amok, and you wanted to be in the midst of the chaos.

Everything fell in line after that – your condo was bought at an extremely low rate compared to other mortgages in the area. You could walk to and from work and classes on the daily, leaving your afternoons open. Hell, it even helped that your grocery store was directly across the street, right across from the park. It was a sweet spot and one you felt like was too good to be true at the end of the day. But alas, you were not questioning fate as it saw you as its pawn. You were just living your life; Single, brazen, and ready to be the face of change in the field. Plus, working close with Josephine meant that you were right at the forefront of The Butcher’s ideas, patterns, schematics. Young, attractive; They all knew he was a male, and not a woman – especially with the craftmanship of the bodies.

It excited you, a man that dedicated to ending the lives of others. You wouldn’t ever admit it aloud but, being a young woman in your position was compromising. If you ever told Josephine your plan of luring The Butcher in to get more information, you’d be fired. But that was your plan at the end of the day – in hopes to uncover more. But truly, you were doing it to entice someone else. When your condo complex became the hub for the police, after another victim was found chopped up across the street from you, you wanted to lay a welcoming hand out for a certain someone. Which is why you stopped locking your doors, your windows, even barricading the deck door. Naivete got the best of you, you were most certain. But it was all for the cause, the further exploration into a serial killer’s mind. You hoped it wouldn’t be him who got in but someone else entirely, yet a girl can dream. As fucked up as it was to think; You were Grant’s pawn, a willing one at that. It was a stupid plan but, God it made you feel alive. The only other thing that did was off the table.

It's always easy to crush on the neighbor next door, not having an establishing factor caused you to admire from afar. Though it was hard not to with how thin your walls were – hearing everything that happened on the other side. It wasn’t provocative to say the least but intriguing. Nature documentaries, Golden Girl re-runs, even some mix ins of Robocop and Midnight Run to lull you to sleep. It was comforting knowing a person was there who happened to like the same things as you. But it only complicated the crush you grew to have. That wedding ring tended to complicate a lot of things – though you never saw anyone but him. It was weird to say the least but, you had no control over it. Pining from afar was the betterment of your time anyways, school took up too much.

The only time you ever talked to him was when The Butcher claimed yet another victim, tossing their remains on campus. It was obvious you were a student worker by your hoodie you always wore, showcasing the department and school. You were notorious for wearing your headphones in as you walked home anyways, which happened to spark his interest. “It’s not safe to do that nowadays – you wouldn’t hear anyone come up on you, sweetheart. I’m just looking out for you.” The sentiment of Cooper Adams’ words struck a deep chord within your body, not ever feeling something so live within you. Having someone car for you was foreign, especially with how your parents were growing up. But Cooper, he really was like a dad – if he wasn’t already. He was the neighborhood watch dog, only wanting what is best for everyone, if everyone wasn’t just you. His autumn eyes never looked away when you left or came home, they watched your every step with ease and precision – notating in case something happened. Cooper was a man, and you needed him.

”I respectfully disagree, I think The Butcher is sloppy and they know it. They keep fucking up and putting themselves on the line. I mean come on, who in their right mind leaves a trail of receipts behind them. For Lady Raven no less! The biggest popstar in the world has a serial killer coming to her concert I mean, it’s alleged but – the odds aren’t out on it, right?”

Grading papers and trying to finish the second of four halves of your dissertation on The Butcher caused you to leave campus late. A fifteen-minute walk down to your home was fine, but something about tonight felt off. October is a beautiful time to enjoy – the sweet and savory smell of pumpkin in the air, the crisp sound of leaves crunching beneath your feet. It was your favorite time of year, but you couldn’t enjoy it like you usually do. You ignored Cooper’s insightful thought to not use headphones on your way home, opting to listen to a podcast instead about The Butcher. Any new leads you could use for your dissertation you were taking, whether they came to full fruition or not. It helped to deepen your argument of what makes a killer, kill. You wouldn’t lie to yourself; The podcast was freaking you out with how soon the Lady Raven concert was coming up. Even if it was alleged, he was going to be at the Lady Raven concert, you didn’t want to take your chances. You knew how to blend in and keep an ear to the ground but, being a victim was not on your list.

Rounding the corner to your block, you saw that Cooper’s light was on in the living room – making you let a sigh of relief out. It meant he was up again watching you come home, keeping you safe as always. It warmed you heart and soaked your panties. It was a no brainer Cooper was extremely attractive; Beekeeping age to be exact. There was something about the power dynamic of an older man with you that lit you up on all cylinders, you couldn’t handle the thoughts. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t touch yourself to the thought of him – taking you soft and slow like you assumed he liked, treating you like a princess. It was what dreams are made of; he truly is prince charming in your eyes. No one is that perfect, that loyal to the job, or that kind. Beloved fire chief Cooper Adams, you wanted him.

Smiling to yourself, you removed your headphones from your ears, shoving them into your purse. The last thing you wanted was for Cooper to see that and think you didn’t heed his warning; in turn you did – the tail end of the trip anyway. Taking a deep breath, you let the weight of the world off of your shoulders, feeling safe again the closer you got to home. You knew it was silly to be spooked about this whole situation; The cleanup crew took the body away days ago and everyone trickled down from there. The caution tape still slapped against the barren tree trunks, shaking leaves from its head. But The Butcher moved on to another place and wouldn’t visit the same place twice you knew. Still though, the thought excited you of Cooper going into your home at some point to make sure you were okay. To reprimand you for keeping the doors unlocked, for seeing how innocent you truly were. You were begging for him, and hoped he caught along eventually.

You were thankful that the steps to your condo wasn’t too long, only a four steps to the front door. Hopping up each one softly, you gently put your hand on the doorknob, pushing the handle down with your thumb. The click of the stopped pushing back into its slot made you cringe, wondering how loud it was compared to what Cooper could hear. Surely, he was going to ask why he didn’t hear your keys tomorrow, and for that you’d had to think of a creative way to tell him. There was no way in hell you were going to come straight out and tell him why you left it unlocked. No, you needed to be smart about it. The heavy front door started to swing backwards for you, creaking at the hinges which in turn made you shy away from it, your heartbeat flooding your ears. The pounding in your head wasn’t helping your current situation, for every move you made was loud – causing your fingers to tremble. “Please don’t be awake,” you muttered to yourself, letting out a deep breath once the door was fully open.

The dark foyer of your condo made you feel safe, knowing once you get upstairs to the kitchen you could be okay – that nothing was coming for you. Letting go of the door caused it to fall back into place, clicking soundly when it is tightly shut. Reaching behind your back, you grabbed onto the top dial for the lock, turning it clockwise, then reaching up to deadbolt the top lock. Now that you were shut in tight – you didn’t have to worry about anything else. It was then the realization struck you; The Butcher couldn’t get into your house if he tried, if it wasn’t the front door. Your bedroom and kitchen were on the second floor. The deck stairs are padlocked shut – he would have to use a ladder. How you didn’t think of that previously was lost on you but – at least you had a good chuckle at the thought.

Grabbing onto the railing, you toed your shoes off by the stairs with a hum to your voice, showing Cooper you were okay – even if it didn’t need to know. Tiredness was setting in hard in your mind, causing a slight headache to erupt at your temple. Using your free hand to massage the tightened muscle, you made your way up the stairs; Every other creaking as you leaned forward. The strawberry cheesecake you bought yesterday was calling your name, all you wanted to do was cut yourself a slice, sit back on the couch and watching some Penny Dreadful. With the start of your weekend now commenced, you just wanted time to yourself to think. The closer you got to the top of the steps, the more you felt the sleepiness roll in behind you, wanting to curl up and snuggle the night away. A yawn released itself from your mouth, causing you to stop in your tracks. On the top step no less, you managed to press your back to the wall, so you didn’t fall, or topple down.

Shaking your head as the aftereffects of the yawn roll through you, you started to make your way into the kitchen to the fridge – feeling the draft of the windows behind opened cascading over you. With a thud on the countertops, you dropped your bag off with your phone – rubbing your eyes to ease the pounding. You didn’t realize how hard it had got to focus once you began, the feeling too good to stop. This was exactly what you needed to start – something brain numbing and desensitizing so you could continue on. You did have half a mind to sleep at the kitchen counter, everything else just seeming so far away. Just a little nap until your felt energized, it would fix everything for you. You dropped your hands at your side to stare forward, trying to let the stars in your eyes disappear before moving. Though, something was out of sorts.

Squinting your eyes in the dark of the kitchen, you strain to see what was at the far head of the kitchen table, wondering if it was just your imagination confusing you, or if there was someone sitting there. Your hand found purchase on the kitchen countertop next to your light switch, thumbing it on with a bright bulbed gleam. “Jesus!” You exclaimed out, jolting backwards into the stove, clutching your chest. There was a person sitting there, and surprisingly the one you hoped for. Your labored breathing echoed in the space as you huffed out a laugh, running your fingers back through your hair. The initial shock of seeing Cooper in your kitchen was starting to wear off, instead it caused you to be giddy. Finally, you thought with an internal smile. But it was clear Cooper did not mimic the same. Instead of looking like his usual sweet, kind, and caring self – he looks pissed off. The softness that laid upon his eyes this morning, we replaced with a darkened line of hard steel – ready to tell you off.

He was wearing that damned stripped sweater you loved so much, the autumn colors contrasting beautifully with his complexion. His biceps building as his arm crossed over his chest, his feet finding purchase flat against the linoleum. Cooper shot his brows up in a challenging way, as if to secretly say seriously. You couldn’t stare in his eyes as he looked at you, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks and neck, causing you to burn up. The tick in his jaw as he focused on you made your knees weak; Sucking down the moan threatening to escape almost broke you. “You didn’t lock your door.” Cooper stated in a non-bullshit tone, causing you to cower. If you looked at him, you knew you’d confess as to why you did. You promised yourself he’d never know about that, no matter the circumstance. “Two days the cops were here because of the body. And you didn’t think to lock your door when you went out?” The fatherly tone in his voice caused you to shrink away, jaw set in a hardened place.

Cooper shook his head back and forth with no change in expression, still so disappointed to see what you had done. “Windows open, doors unlocked. Have you forgotten there is a killer in the neighborhood?” That was the thing, you hadn’t. You left this as an open invitation for The Butcher to try something. Maybe, just maybe he’d let you live long enough to learn more, jot it somewhere or record so when you were gone, at least the evidence was behind. But there were faults in that, The Butcher wouldn’t give you time for anything. You’d be here and done in the next, depending on how long he wanted to play with you. “I’m sorry,” you squeaked, moving to the opposite counter, trying to get closer to Cooper. You could see it in his eyes he didn’t want none of that, he didn’t want an apology. The longer Cooper stared at you, the more his face shifted from annoyed and disappointed, to scared and worried. He must’ve realized how he was being and wanted to correct it before you thought differently.

“I wanted to see if you were up for having a movie night. Imagine my surprise when I see your door open and unlocked.” There was a fearful waver in Cooper’s voice, causing your stomach to sink. The one thing you didn’t want to do in your soon-to-be budding friendship was worry him or scare him for that matter. But there was a feeling of failure starting to weasel its way through your stomach, wanting nothing more than to console Cooper. He couldn’t look your way as he spoke, shaking his head away from you as he focused on the plastered white wall of your kitchen, counting the tiny specks of paint dots in my mind. “I thought…I thought The Butcher had gotten to you.” It was low, but loud enough to break your heart – tearing welling in the corner of your eyes. Your heart was plummeting, you needed to act fast.

Coming around the kitchen island, you stand at the front end of the kitchen table to face Cooper – your eyes silently pleading for him to look at you. His foot tapped against the floor in pointed rhythm with his fingers, tapping along the edge of the table as he unwound them from his chest. His thick fingers came up closer to the edge, grazing over the handle of something. Your eyes were curious, deciding to have a mind of their own as you glanced down to see the silvery glint of a sharp object – eyes going wide, breath going still. Sitting next to your thigh on the table was a meat cleaver from your knife set you just bought, the edge sparkling with attraction – wanting to be used. You understood that Cooper was scared for you, so he grabbed something to protect himself just in case. It was admirable to say the least, you felt your heart warming at the thought.

Cooper let his fingers cascade over the black handle of the knife, pulling it to him without a stutter in his step. Picking the knife up, he tested the weight of it in his palm, dragging the tip of his finger over the serrated edge, feeling it cut him a bit. You winced at the sight of blood pooling out of the small cut, your stomach doing flips. Blood never made you squeamish but self-inflicted wounds did. “I’m so sorry Cooper, I never meant to upset you with it. Honest to God, I forgot this morning.” You were lying through your teeth and Cooper knew, he fucking knew from a mile away. The saddened look in his eyes switched so quickly, if you blinked, you’d miss it. Placating a docile look to his own face, he stared at you carefully, making no quick movements or hasty decisions. He was giving you your chance to confess, and you fucked it up.

“I think you did it on purpose,” he called out, sitting forth on the chair so his elbows rested against his muscular thighs. He chuckled in a sinister way as he pointed the cleaver in your direction, waving it up to your face so you’d look at him, rather than the floor. “I think, you wanted The Butcher to come in here.” The heat sliding across your chest and neck made you feel sick, like you were exposed. A live wire touching a hot nerve ending; It was electric in a twisted way. There was no admiration or happiness but despair and darkness. He was calling you out so fast on your bullshit, it scared you. It made you feel weak just knowing he could read through you. Sweet, doting Cooper was a thing of the past as he kept going. “I think you wanted to catch him on your own and make yourself a hero.” Touch. Fucking. Down. It was the closest Cooper was going to get to the truth – he didn’t need to know the other half of it. Knitting his brows together, a light sheen in his eyes made the ember pupils go misty, your eyes letting the tears slip. “Is that true?”

“N-No, not at all!” It was obvious in your shifty tone that you were lying, that this was all bullshit. Cooper had it down to a tee, he read you like a book before you even stepped through the door. He saw you for what you are, a pusher. Cooper sighed as he lowered his head, shaking it from side to side as he stared at his boots. The leather tightened as he put his weight onto his boots. The stretch of them caused your pulse to shake, your feet moving back at the detection. You knew Cooper wouldn’t hurt you, he would even attempt to kill a fly, let alone a person. He was trying to get the point across to show you just how serious he was, but to you – he was a bit too committed to the bit. Tossing his head back, Cooper slid his calloused fingers through his hair, disheveling the length of it so it draped over his face.

 “Monsters exist, you know. They’re everywhere.” He began, his tone dropping to a lethal level. There was a drop in your abdomen as you heard it, sounding like something otherworldly. It didn’t seem like Cooper had control at all, but something else. Was it aggression? Pent up stress? Months and months of rage he needed to express? He was never wound tight so you were taken aback. You didn’t know how to navigate it, because the second you would try, it would backfire by tenfold in your face. It was the fact that Cooper was almost talking down to you that made you upset – leaning in a little too heavy on the reprimand. “I-I know that.” You shot back without hesitation, ignoring the stutter in your words as you stared at him. There was a venomous bite to your words, to which Cooper was not a fan out.

Cooper began to stand as his body evened out, his six foot three stature towering over you. Gulping down the fight you had in your throat, you focused on his facial expressions, waiting to see what he was planning next. The way he looked down his nose at you made you shiver, dread creeping its winding way across your spine. “No, you don’t. Clearly.” Cooper stated, the bladed ended of the cleaver coming to rest against your side, creeping along your sweatshirt. You didn’t dare to break away from Cooper’s expression, knowing if you did – something bad was going to happen. But it already wasn’t it? He was the bad thing. In that moment, a lightbulb went off. Cooper Adams wasn’t just the fire chief, or a doting father. He is The Butcher.

The revelation caused your palms to grow clammy, balling into shivering fists at your side. It was too good to be true, you never would’ve guessed though. The secret condo, the overt fascination in watching you, making sure you were safe. Always needing to hear you, knowing you were okay. Hell, he played the caregiver role very well – you just were oblivious to the fact that it is because you’re working with the same people trying to take him down. If there is one thing Cooper wouldn’t have, it is that. For years he has gone undetected, twelve victims, bodies brutalized into bits and pieces. “…because you let the biggest one walk through your door. Sit at your kitchen table. Watch you make a fool of yourself, and you’re still turned on.” Cooper ended his statement, causing you to tune back in to what he was saying.

Wrapped up in your own thoughts, you didn’t realize that Cooper had moved the cleaver to sit under your chin, the cold metallic feel against your skin caused your pulse to push. Anchoring you in your spot was Cooper’s free hand against your hip; A punishing strength you knew would leave bruises come the morning. With the cleaver at your throat, Cooper leaned down to whisper in your ear, letting his warm breath fan your flesh. “Don’t lie to me again, I won’t go easy on you.” Cooper growled out, his fingers driving into your hip deeper, causing you to wince at the pain. It was not a threat but a promise. A way of holding that control over you, to show you that no matter what – you were never in control of your life, for as long as he has been in it. You didn’t realize it but, you were wearing your heart on your sleeve. The emotion on your face was feeding some sick, twisted passion of Cooper’s, causing his once evil scowl to turn into a bright, beaming grin.

Stepping hard in front of you, Cooper jolted a bit to spook you – pulling the cleaver back enough so you didn’t get hurt. A cackle slipped past his lips, causing you to press against the kitchen wall closest to the stairs. “How long would it take you to get your locks undone, and get to the corner store before I caught you?” He asked it as if it was a simple question, but it was a challenge. If he could tell you left your door unlocked on purpose then, he could tell you had a crush on him too. His proposition was to showcase loyalty; Would you run and cry like the rest of his victims, or stand your ground and grovel at his feet? In another world the second option would be the best one, but this is reality – not fantasy. You couldn’t, after what he did – what he wanted to do…you were not going to be a statistic in his book – you were not going to be an easy kill. You are a fighter.

“Want to find out?” You didn’t, you truly did not want to but knew it was your only chance. If you stood your ground, it would be bloodshed. At least if you tried a bit more, pushed further – you could stop him once and for all. I mean, that was your plan after all, right? Catch The Butcher, put a stop to his shit. Your plan, a dumb – yet smart plan. But it being Cooper made it difficult for you, like a lump in your throat trying to pass. You didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t in fact, but the more he let his guard slip the obvious it became. You didn’t respond, didn’t look away from his eyes either. You stared ahead and watched Cooper with intent, challenging him to drop everything and stay there. You didn’t feel your feet leave the ground; you didn’t notice your knees hiking up with a sprint. Hell, you barely registered what was going on as your vision went from Cooper to the halfway point of your staircase, the deadbolted door only a few feet away. Jumping from the fifth to last step, you landed right on your booted feet – bringing a shaking hand up to undo the first lock. As you slid the deadbolt out from its place, you reached for the doorknob – but not before both of your hands were pinned to your side.

“Too slow there, princess. Did you even try?” That evil laugh ran your blood cold, a pout evident on his face without even turning. You went to scream but, Cooper cut off your noises with his arm across your neck, your chin sitting in the crux of his elbow. Instantly your nails found purchase in his thick sweater; Tiny fibers coming up as you pull with roughened hands. Donkey kicking your way into his knee, Cooper grunted with an annoyed mewl, letting out a heavy sigh against the side of your face as he pushes you face first into the wall. “Seems like you wanted me to catch you,” Cooper snarled, lips pressed so hard against your ear you felt his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Fear is the biggest betrayer; When an escape comes your way, you take it. No second thoughts, you go. But alas, the fear of not knowing caused you to panic and stutter with the deadbolt. If only you had been quicker, you’d be at the police station, not at The Butcher’s mercy.

It hurt knowing this was Cooper’s goal all along, to make you lucky number thirteen in his black book of death. Just another name, just another victim, just another live lost because of the inadequacy of the police. Another pair of eyes snuffed out, another brilliant mind gone to senselessness. You know you are a survivor, you know you need to prove it. Placing a tender kiss to your temple, Cooper sways you a bit as he pushes his weight into your back, tightening his hold with a grunt. “Ask me why, come on. I know you want to.” The whisper was one of petulance, like he wanted to give you the reason before you became his thirteenth reason. It was your parting gift on this realm; To know before you met the others. You didn’t want to give in, you didn’t have Cooper Adams to have the upper hand. But the feeling of a small knife poking just under your right lung in the hold made tears fall, a gasp of sorrow spewing out. “W-Why!” You screamed, feeling the anguish and despair wallowing in the open air.

Cooper took a deep breath as you spoke the words, fueling his ego with the emotion you were giving. The glimmer of hope he was snuffing out of you set him on edge, in the best way possible. Here you were, pressed against a wall with his arms wrapped around you. His knee between your legs to keep them open and his face melding with yours. Cooper and you were one in the same, a victim and killer creating a blinding situation. One where the only outcome is red. Running his nose along the backside of your ear, nuzzling into your skull, let out in a low tone: “Because I can.” It was straight forth, no mistaking what he said or the meaning behind it. Cooper was not one to fuck around about the kill, he took it seriously as he should. It scared you how quickly he shifted into The Butcher – there was almost no time to adjust. Now, he confessed. He can so he will, and you are going to be the sweetest one for him.

“Oh, was that not what you were expecting?” Cooper pouted as he asked, feigning innocence as he omitted a sad sound in your ear, causing the silent tears to erupt. Turning your head slightly to try and see his face in the glow of the pale moonlight, your eyes shone with disbelief and tiredness. His lips screwed up into a soft smile, using his free hand to caress your cheek. Every tear that fell, Cooper kissed it away from the back. He was mourning as well, mourning a soon-to-be friend, maybe a love interest, but all in all another brilliant mind. “No one expects me to take a life, and that is the thrill of it.” There was no hesitation, no gallop along bullshit to make you feel better. Cooper was direct, manipulative, psychotic. “I hold power over everyone, and they let me.” It was stated like a prayer, a true belief that it was making the world a better place. Cooper didn’t forget the accusatory stance when he spoke next, making sure you heard his words loud and clear. To know what a mistake this was. “You let me.”

A guttural, wretched wail leaped its way from deep within your body, ripping out through your lungs like a beast fully being unleashed. You dropped your knees slightly to try and get the advantage to slip away, groaning out in frustration as he locked his own. The knife slid across your sweatshirt like butter, not cutting your skin but sending the message. Cooper wouldn’t have gutted you in his sweater, no, it would be too dirty. The blade was dull, but the point was sharp. It was meant to scare you, to keep you in check. Did he think it would cut through cloth? No, but he knew it couldn’t skin. So, Cooper let you drop out of his grasp as the knife slid, backing up only slightly for you to scramble out. Yes, you exclaimed mentally as you crawled across the foyer floor.

Like a silent killer, Cooper turned around ala Michael Myers style and watched you – a blank expression making its way back to his features. He didn’t press forth, nor did he grab at you. Instead, Cooper watched you struggle like a stuck pig in mud, scurrying your way across the stairs and start to gain your balance. The first few steps were tough to keep your balancing, your boots sliding across the laminate wood. Halfway up you started to gain traction on each step, gripping the railing and not daring to look behind. But it was quiet, too quiet. You knew in your gut Cooper was planning something; You had no idea what but, this was something more than you. “You’re so pretty when you’re scared, it’s kind of hot.” Cooper drawled out as he slowly made his way up the stairs, smirking in the moonlight as he crept after you. Turning back around you kept the same speed to keep the distance between you both substantial. Slamming of boots coming from behind you, causing you to panic. But you were able to make it free of the stairs, and jet towards the deck door in the kitchen, thankful it was still unlocked.

As you moved forward on fast feet to grip the handle, a heavy hand came to the side of your head. The weight of it felt unnatural, otherworldly. The skin wasn’t warm on the palm, but ice cold. In a second, a simple blink, your eyes were unfocused. The world around you started to spin, and you reached your hands out, trying to find anything to grab onto. Instead, you felt the boom of pain on the left side of your head, warmth coating the skin as you fell. The floor, or table never came up – you landed in the arms of Cooper, who was now grunting and panting like a dog – perfect hair disheveled, mouth screwed up into an annoyed expression. “Sleep it off, you’ll be fine.” You dismissed off your feeling as he lowered you to the ground. Everything was in a daze, a glowing aura of red around your eyeline. No matter how many times you blinked or trying to focus your eyes, everything spun like a merry-go-round. Bursts of lights coated your vision, your wrists met with hard plastic as they were tied together. Your feet following the same fate.

You felt your body move, sliding down the kitchen floor. It was cold, dry, and yet warm all at the same time… then everything went black. You no longer felt a thing.

To Be Continued…

[forever-fixating]

WIP Wednesday

OMG hey! It's been a while, I know. IRL can be a real energy suck, but I have recharged my batteries and have some goodies to share. Thanks to @onthewaytosomewhere for the tag! I'm doing this under a cut because I'm sharing bits from living in a new normal and Tournament for His Heart! Enjoy!

living in a new normal

“Hey, talk to me.”

Swallowing, Henry said, “It’s risky. I don’t know that I trust myself not to be able to hide how happy you make me.”

“Good thing we’ll be so busy with the kids,” Alex laughed. He moved closer and put an arm around Henry’s waist. “Baby, you’re gonna be overseas with me soon for three months. I know you’re worried about people talking, but let them talk. That doesn’t have to affect us.”

Henry turned his face toward Alex and accepted his gentle kiss, murmuring against his lips, “You’re right.”

“I know I am,” Alex said with a grin. “Besides, you think you’re the only one here finding it hard to hide how happy you are?”

“Have you been hiding?” Henry asked. “I’ve seen your Lives and Instagram stories. Nothing but sappy love songs, darling.”

“You fucking love it, don’t lie!”

Henry did. Alex’s knowledge of music and its history was impressive, to say the least. One minute, he would be talking about the history of Motown and Berry Gordy’s manipulative and predatory contracts, and the next, he would be ranting that The Chicks did nothing wrong when Natalie said what she said about Bush and he would kill to collaborate with them on a song. He promised to show Henry his vast collection of eight-tracks, vinyls, cassette tapes, and CDs. Music made him come alive. This wasn’t someone who was a casual fan of music. Alex was in a life-long love affair with it.

So, when it came to his IG Lives and Stories, Henry didn’t know what to expect. It could be a song from Taylor Swift, Billie Holiday, or Wham. When he sang a country version of the duo’s song Freedom, Henry could only respond via text with a string of lovey-dovey emojis. It was ridiculous, and Henry couldn’t get enough.

A Tournament for His Heart

“Love, remember the shadows,” Alex read aloud. “Talk to Pip.”

At the trio of confused expressions, Alex explained Henry’s final message and his belief that some kind of danger scared Henry into cutting off their correspondence. Zahra turned to Ellen again and said, “Your Majesty, I believe it would be a grave mistake to send your children to Lerasea. You must decline.”

“I will go,” Alex snapped. At Zahra’s thunderous expression, he said, “Keep June here if you must to ensure the line of succession, but Henry is in danger. I will not leave him to whatever fate Mary has in store for him.”

Ellen reached out to take his hand and squeeze it. Her voice was soft when she asked, “You still love him…don’t you?”

Alex nodded, his throat suddenly too tight to speak. Zahra, ever the pragmatist, said, “Your Highness, while you may still harbor some tenderness toward the prince, I beg you to think about this rationally.”

He glanced at the advisor and the paper in her hand. “This is the list of your fellow suitors. Twelve of them are using proxies, some of the most skilled knights across creation. Even with our very best, there is no guarantee you will be successful. Why open yourself up to the possibility of that heartbreak?”

“I will not use a proxy,” Alex stated. “I will compete myself.”

His mother’s grip on his hand tightened while Zahra snapped, “Alexander, this is not a game! Are you truly so arrogant to believe yourself capable of defeating anyone they put before you?”

“I would break every fucking bone in my body if that’s what it took to be with Henry again!” Alex shouted. His words echoed in the chambers. His body was flooded with adrenaline, but he forced himself to take a moment to calm down. Looking at his mother, with whom his fate and future happiness rested, he said, “I apologize for my tone and language. I don’t believe this will be easy. In fact, I relish the challenge. It is not arrogance that fuels me but love. I love him, Your Majesty. Then and now, that feeling has not changed or wavered. It has remained as constant as the suns, the moons, and the stars. Please let me do this.”

Author's Note: No matter the universe, Alex has zero chill when it comes to his Henry. I'm working on these stories, hopefully I'll have something for yall soon. I have a giant summer with plenty of downtime ahead of me. Later, taters!

[berenwrites]

WIP tag game!

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

I was tagged by the lovely @katyawriteswhump and, for once, I am not madly chasing my tail, so I have time to join in the fun! The word I was given is TOAST.

I'm afraid I have not been keeping track of who has already been tagged in the game, so no pressure to: @steddiecameraroll @steddiealltheway @rogueddie @lexirosewrites

Your word is: TRIALS

Onto my excerpts:

💖From my currently posting SteddieBang fic Wolf In the Light:

“They also know I’m usually carting the gremlins around,” Steve agreed. “Maybe that can work in our favour?”

“What are you thinking, Steve?” Robin asked.

“I’m thinking that it won’t take all of us to break out Max,” he said, thinking it through as he went, “so how about I take the kids and make it very obvious we are not at the hospital?”

“How?” Nancy asked.

💖From a WiP tentatively called Too Late?:

Omegas that only blossomed when they found their perfect match of an alpha, or the other way around, were a thing for romance novels and syrupy sweet movies. Going through life thinking they were broken, only for the perfect mixture of chemistry and circumstance to bring them hope and love.

Only Steve’s romance was a tragedy.

💖Another from Wolf In the Light:

After the powwow at Hopper’s cabin, everyone had gone home. It had been just over a day and a half since then. Dustin had filled Steve and Robin in on how El had tried again with Max, but not had any luck when they met up at the school to help with the relief effort the next day. Steve hated leaving Eddie, but they were playing a game with the army and local police, trying to make everything look normal.

💖From a WiP as yet untitled with A/B/O dynamics:

“Steve,” he called, deciding to go simply with the other man’s name given what he was here to do.

He shut the door behind him, locking it and moving into the dark vehicle. Robin appeared to have closed all the blinds. The only sound that came from inside was a quiet whimper. He moved without thinking as his alpha instincts fired, pushing him towards the omega in distress. Honestly, he’d never felt anything quite like it. There had been the odd time he’d had the urge to put his fist through someone like Billy Hargroves’ face, the shittiest most cliched alpha to ever alpha, but it hadn’t been like this.

💖From another untitled WiP this one about soulmates:

“They still have him on strong pain killers,” his mom said as Steve carefully gave Eddie a once over with his eyes to make sure he was fine. “The doctor warned us he would probably be in and out for a while once he woke up.”

For some reason that was the moment it hit him. He’d spent three weeks sitting there watching Eddie barely clinging on, praying for some good news from the doctors and now he had it.

“He woke up,” he said, feeling ridiculous and stupid, but totally unable to stop the tears that came with those words.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

WIP Wednesday

Tagging @shelbydelrey, @confidentandgood, @moral-terpitude, @runnning-outof-time, @zablife, @call-sign-shark, @peakyltd, @detectivelokis, @eclecticwildflowers, @roofgeese, @amyowl470, @areyenotfondofmelobster, @scaryscarecrows, and anyone else interested!

Dance of Darkness Chapter 7: Ride or Die

(Tommy Shelby x OC)

Apologies in advance to all the Polly fans out there!

“Business first,” Tommy ordered. Polly leapt from her seat, physically shoving Lucy out of the way in her haste to get at Tommy. Lucy caught herself against the wall with a yelp, head whirling to stare at her in shock.

“They took Michael.”

Tommy held up a hand. “I said business first. And don’t push Lucy, Polly.”

Polly continued to try to talk, but Tommy shouted over her. 

“Polly, business first!” he barked. She went silent, glowering. Lucy moved so that she was on the other side of Tommy from her, putting him between them, just in case. A movement that wasn’t lost on Tommy, if the way that his eyes tracked her were any indication. He turned back to his brother. “John?” he said, encouraging him to continue with his report. All of their whiskey had been taken, vans impounded and warehouses locked. They’d lost the Eden Club back to Sabini. Alfie had framed Arthur for Billy Kitchen’s death, so their truce with the Black Country boys was over.  

“I don’t give a fuck about whiskey,” Polly interupted. “I don’t give a fuck about Billy Kitchen. I want my son out of prison, now!” she slammed her hand on a desk.

“Thomas, I spoke to Johnny Dogs–” Esme began.

“This meeting should just be family!” Polly raged.

“I can help–” Esme tried.

“Let her talk!” Lucy said.

“It’s family only, she’s not blood, Tommy!” Polly practically screeched. 

“Let her speak,” Tommy ordered.

“Or is this a business–have you forgotten our family–” her eyes locked on Lucy, like she’d just realized that she was there, and her face turned bright red, all the hatred that she’d kept locked up towards her spilling out in one sudden, demented roar. “Get your soulless, disgusting, bitch of a slut out of here, now!”

Lucy recoiled like she’d been slapped, sinking into herself, her back hitting the wall behind her.

“Enough!” Tommy shouted. 

But Polly wasn’t done. “We all know that you just keep her around as a hole to shove your cock into–” 

“Enough!” Tommy roared, in a voice Lucy had never heard him use before. He sounded monstrous, terrifying in a way that wasn’t wholly human. Polly went silent, eyes widening, taking a step back, like she’d actually realized that she’d gone too far. Lucy stared at the floor, eyes blinking hard, feeling the rise of warmth in her cheeks from humiliation, unable to look at any of the other people in the room, though she could feel all of their eyes on her. “Enough, Polly,” his voice was lower, but the dangerous growl was still there.

Dance of Darkness Chapter 8: Happy or Sad

(Tommy Shelby x OC)

Don't worry, there are no spoilers for chapter 7 here!

She’d picked out a bright red dress with a long skirt and intricate black beading, and had swapped out her usually simplistic and less flashy jewelry for a few of the more expensive, lavish pieces she owned. Most of which had been gifts that Tommy had gotten her throughout the years. Fussing over her hair one last time, she sighed, and began to climb down the stairs, careful in the heels she was wearing so that she didn’t fall. She heard the door open and close, as James finally left for the night.

When Tommy saw her, his eyes lit up, crossing the room to her in several quick, long strides, hands landing on her waist as he kissed her.

“You look beautiful.”

She blushed under the praise. “Thanks.”

He’d prepared the sitting room while she was upstairs, turning on a few of the lights and getting a fire started, the dim glow leaving the room feeling seductive and romantic. He had shed his coat, leaving him in only his waistcoat, slacks, and white button down shirt, making it easier for her to feel the muscles in his biceps flex as she ran a hand along his arm. 

“What if she doesn’t show up?” she asked, nerves spiking again. Tommy looked her up and down, clearly appreciative.

“I’m sure we can think of something to do.”

She laughed, leaning more solidly against his chest. He rubbed her back.

[skinnyducky]

made for you // v.h.

hello.. im sorry i havent been posting. school has been keeping me busy but i wanted to post this. this idea comes from @yelenasdarling so thank you ! i recommend listening to halley’s comet by billie eilish (as well as the whole album) bc that’s the song that is being discussed in this (as well as many others), so yuh. enjoy ! and i promise i haven’t forgotten about party @ y/ns !

vinnie hacker x singer!fem!reader

Word Count: 1408, edited

WARNING: MAJOR FLUFF LUV

---------

As the year was coming to an end, so was your debut album. For months, you’d been working with the best producers, musicians, and doing endless promo for this album and within a few days, you’d be playing it for the label. Obviously because it is your first record, you’re protective over it. No one had heard it besides the people working on it. So, you were a bit nervous to let your pleading boyfriend, Vinnie, tag along to the studio with you.

It was Friday, and you two had been chilling in his room when your producer, Sarah, said she needed you to go over it before the label meeting. As you bid your goodbyes to Vinnie, informing him of the reason for your departure, he pouted. “Why can’t I come?” he nearly cried, giving you his puppy dog eyes. Because you couldn’t resist them—and you just can’t say “no” to him—you allowed him to come.

Now here the two of you were, in the studio and listening to Sarah go on and on about how long it took for her to finish mastering it. Your manager, Jen, had came too. She had to hear the album for herself also. She couldn’t have her client looking a mess in front of her bosses. Bad for business and her reputation.

“…and after an hour or two of making sure your vocals were clear, I finally finish the album.” Sarah explained. “Honestly, this is probably the best album I’ve produced in a minute, and I worked on SZA’s album.”

“That good?” Vinnie asked with a smirk, leaning against the studio door. “That’s sick. I’m ready to listen to it.”

As that sentence left Vinnie’s mouth, you felt your anxiety overcome you. “Are you sure, Sarah? There has to be some sort of adlib I need to rework or something. Can’t be ready so soon.”

“Y/n, it can’t get any better than this. This is a solid project. I should know, I spent days listening to it over and over again. Trust me, it’s ready.”

“Besides, it’s too late to rerecord now.” Jen added. “The label meeting is next Thursday, and we don’t have a week for Sarah to mix and master all over again. Once the label gives us the greenlight, if there’s anything to tweak, you can do it before you have to submit the final project. But until then, no changes and no additions.”

You sighed, nodded your head. It’s not that you were afraid of it not being perfect. You were more scared of what Vinnie would think. I mean, he’s the one who inspired the album; more than half of the songs are about him. His opinion meant everything to you, and if he didn’t like an inch of it…that would destroy you.

As you were sulking and picking at your chipped nail polish, Vinnie wandered over to you where you sat at the soundboard with Sarah. He leaned against it and smiled down at you. “What’s the matter, baby?”

“Nothing.” You sighed, keeping your head down. He scoffed and chuckled. “Y/n, you’re playing with your nail polish. You always do that when you’re upset.”

He pulled you up and took you out of your seat before sitting down himself and placing you on his lap. “Tell Santa what’s up.” He joked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I’m just nervous. This album means so much to me.”

“Completely understandable. It’s your first one, it should mean a lot to you.”

You shook your head. “It’s not just because of that. It’s also because it’s about you. The only reason you haven’t came with me to the studio until now is because I didn’t want you to hate anything on this, and it would kill me if you did.”

“Y/n, look at me”—you finally met his eyes for the first time—“I could never not like anything you do. Especially if it’s dedicated to me. That’s like throwing away a gift you gave me. I wouldn’t ever do that. So don’t think for a minute that I’d hate this. That’s literally impossible.”

You smiled, planting a kiss on his forehead. “You’re too good for me.”

“I know.” He laughed and turned to Sarah. “Play us the album!” He said dramatically, sending the producer into a fit of giggles.

She followed his orders and with a few clicks and the press of a button, the first song from your album rang out from the studio speakers. You watched timidly as Vinnie bobbed his head up and down as it went from track to track.

“This shit slaps!” He exclaimed as “Y/n Bossa Nova” played. He nearly about died during “Oxytocin”, claiming it to be god tier. Minutes went by until you got to the final track “Halley’s Comet”, and you were scared to play him this song.

While the other tracks were quite playful in nature, this one was different. The song was a bit cynical, but it was also like a love letter to Vinnie. Never before have you ever felt what you had with him. And at first that made you scared. But as the months went by and your relationship started to blossom, you realized he was the one for you. This was just your way of telling him that.

When it started, you looked everywhere but at Vinnie. It wasn’t just because you couldn’t bear to see the expression on his face, but also because this song was quite emotional. You didn’t want him to see you “being a little bitch” as you put it.

The sound of your soft vocals bounced off the walls and you felt Vinnie place his chin on your shoulder. His hold on you grew tighter as he swayed you two back forth. A small smile crept it’s way onto your face as you tried your best to stray away from crying.

“I’ve been loved before, but right now in this moment,” you sung, “I feel more and more like I was made for you…”

When those lyrics hit, you felt Vinnie stop swaying. Hell, you were pretty sure he had stopped breathing too. You didn’t know what to think about that; did he not like the song, is he shocked? What was he thinking and feeling? Shortly after, the song came to an end with you singing, “I think I might have fallen in love…what am I to do?”

And with that, the album finished. The room was silent, the only sound being your sniffles. Although that was broken when Sarah screamed. “Wasn’t that amazing!? Ugh, my power…I really outdid myself on this one.”

Thankfully, Jen understood the impact of that last song. “Sarah, why don’t we go get a Snickers or something from the vending machine?”

“I can’t eat anything fatty, Jen. You know this.”

Jen mouthed some profanities and threats at the woman causing her to shoot up from her chair and run out into the hallway. “We’ll leave you two alone for a minute.” Jen smiled, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

Neither of you or Vinnie spoke and that somewhat was comforting. However, part of it made you feel insecure about the album, “Halley’s Comet” in specific. Out of all the songs, that’s the one you wanted him to like the most.

The silence soon grew uncomfortable, so you decided to be the first to speak. “Well, that was the album. What’d you think?”

He opened his mouth, but it was obviously he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I-I don’t know how to even put it in words.”

“That bad?” You sighed.

“No, never.” He laughed. “It was beautiful, all of it really. And that last song, that was amazing.”

You pursed your lips, hiding the grin wanting to break free. “You think so?”

“Yeah, it was definitely one of my favorites. To know I had that much of an impact on you, it’s really sweet. I didn’t think I could simp for you any harder than I do now.”

“Shut up!” you laughed, slapping his shoulder.

“It’s the truth!” he said, throwing his hands up in defense. “I love you, Y/n. I really do.”

“I love you too.” And with that, he laid a sweet and gentle kiss on your lips.

Pulling back, he said, “Oh and just so you know, I agree with you.”

“On what?”

“You were definitely made for me.”

[chibi-tsukiko]

Five More Minutes

A Malec fic inspired by the song "The End of the World" by Billie Eilish because it’s all over TikTok and I can't get it out of my head.

I hope you like it 🙈

click on title to read on AO3 or scroll below

Tag list : @legendofconsullightwood @themostawesomehuman @littleturtle95 @tobeornottobetequila @morgnstern @zfoxdraws @bookworm-jedi @magnus-the-maqnificent @banesbitch @fair-but-wilde-child @beclynn-herondale @khaleesiofalicante @my-archerboy @youngreckless @thomaslightwood @runecarstairs @high-warlock-of-brooklyn @itsdaughterofthemoon

Magnus wakes to a high-pitched beeping. He flicks his wrist to silence the sound, keeping his eyes closed. The room is dark, but he can feel the warmth of the sun on his back as the first rays peek through the curtains. For a second he thinks the sound was an accident, a hallucination even, but then he feels the bed shift beside him. Guilt pinches him as he realizes he unconsciously shut off Alec’s alarm, but he shakes it off. He’s exhausted. They both are. Life has never been easy for them, but this past month has felt like every obstacle got together and hit at once. It’s been nonstop. Quality time has become getting dressed together, a quick kiss goodbye at the door, dinner, when they can both manage it, and the few brief moments before sleep takes hold. Neither of them are ungrateful for the roles they’ve earned, Magnus couldn’t be prouder, but they have needs too. Alec isn’t the only one who gets grumpy without his morning cuddles. They’re in desperate need of a vacation, and the second Magnus finds a window amongst the chaos, he’s whisking them away. Far away. Someplace tropical, with no cell service.

He feels a gentle press of lips on his temple, he hums, and presses his face into the pillow, hoping the bed will swallow him. And then more beeping starts. This time, from his own cellphone.

Magnus groans as he reaches to shut the accursed noise off right as the water from the shower starts. He flops back down onto his stomach, muffling a whine. He’s not ready yet.

Five more minutes.

——————————————————

He should really take a break, Magnus thinks as he summons two more books from his library. He’s been at this for days. When was the last time he slept? Tuesday? What day is it now? It doesn’t matter. He slides the plate of food Alec had left him this morning aside so he can set the books down; it clinks against the other plates. He should really just move them to the kitchen. Stepping around his desk towards the cabinet on the other side of the room, he nearly trips over himself. You need sleep. But he can’t stop. It’s been almost a week now since Catarina had come to him about a strange sickness she’d been encountering at the hospital. A week since Alec had been tracking a series of magical explosions that had been occurring throughout the city. A week since they’d started discovering the bodies of children in the streets. Almost a week since Magnus finallyconnected the events. Too long. Now he was in a race against time. He adds more ingredients to the potion and gives it a quick stir.

They haven’t found the coward whose chosen to experiment on these children. When they do, Magnus hopes to have a moment alone before Alec hands them over to the Clave. For now, Magnus can at least put his skills to use and create a cure for the illness before it claims more lives while his anger festers.

He flips through another book, while simultaneously sending one back to the library, and summoning three more. He barely registers the press in his wards, the shuffling of feet, or the hand on his shoulder. Alec says something to him, but he doesn’t really hear. He nods, answering to what, he’s not sure. He leans back over the cauldron, giving it another stir. He’s so close.

Five more minutes.

————————————————

They’ve been here for hours. Magnus is nursing his third drink of the night, his eyes never losing sight of the server as he weaves around the other guests. Despite how often he complains about attending High Warlock meetings, he’d rather listen to those old fools reminisce than another false retelling of the Claves’ accomplishments. Magnus does his best not to correct them, he even bites his tongue when they slip in a snide comment or two. It’s not worth it, he tells himself. Alec stays by his side the whole time, unwavering, but Magnus doesn’t miss the way his shoulders sag in relief each time their conversation with officials gets interrupted. Or how he squeezes Magnus’ hand whenever someone remarks about the company he keeps.

It’s nothing Magnus hasn’t heard before, nothing he doesn’t prep for before these gatherings, but that doesn’t mean Alec deserves to hear it. He can’t do anything too outlandish, but he can cause a few drink spills. Alec catches him a few times and Magnus hides his smirk behind his glass while Alec nudges him with his shoulder.

By drink number four, Magnus is at his breaking point. He’s counted the tiles on the floor a dozen times and he’s got a tension headache forming at the back of his skull. Suddenly, Alec is tugging him away, mid-conversation, cutting through the crowd, unconcerned by the sideward glances. He finds a quiet corner at the end of the hallway and Magnus starts to ask what’s wrong, but Alec kisses the question from his lips, crowding him against the stone wall.

Magnus gasps when they part, his fingers curling into Alecs jacket as he presses their bodies together. Alec’s breath is hot against his throat and Magnus has to stifle a moan. Alec shifts to cup Magnus’ face with his hands, sliding their lips back together. It’s gentler this time, slower, and Magnus hums into it. Then all too soon Alec is pulling back, Magnus keeps his eyes closed, leaning forward to chase after the kiss. Alec mutters something about returning to the event, but Magnus isn’t ready yet.

So he wraps his arms around Alec’s neck and kisses him, soft and languid.

Five more minutes.

——————————————

Magnus’ ears are ringing. His once quiet loft, now echoes with a cacophony of shrieks and giggles. He leans against the door frame of his bedroom, a warm smirk spreading on his face. He watches his heart as it twists, turns, and jumps on the massive king sized bed. A tangled mess of ivory, chestnut, and cerulean. In his hundreds of years, he never imagined he would have this. He longed for it, hoped for it, but never expected it. Yet here it is, right in front of him. Who knew the world could fit on a single mattress. Who knew that centuries of life would pale compared to moments like this: Sunday afternoons watching his husband play with their sons.

Sons. He has sons. He’s married. The words send fireworks through his body, he never tires of saying them. He feels so full.

Alec flips both boys onto their back and moves their shirts subtly before blowing raspberries on their stomachs. The room explodes with laughter, and god Magnus wants to drown in the sound.

Alec catches his eye and sends Magnus a knowing smile. Their boys immediately tackle the distracted Shadowhunter, chanting for Magnus to join them. He knows that this time is fleeting. He’s heard from Catarina’s experience, seen it himself each time Jocelyn brought Clary to his door. Children grow fast. Soon they’ll be moving on and moving out, starting their own lives. If Magnus blinks, he might miss it. So he relishes in these moments where he can step back and soak it in. He leaps onto the bed, basking in the euphoria he’s found, gripping it like a vise.

Five more minutes.

—————————————

Magnus can’t breathe. He’s dizzy with nausea, and there’s a throbbing sensation at the back of his head. He’s vaguely aware of the surrounding commotion. His mind registers voices around him, but they’re muffled as if he’s being held underwater. He feels heavy, like someone has tied anchors to each of his limbs. Everything seems to move in slow motion, and Magnus can’t make heads or tails of it.

Amongst the haze, his focus finds his husband’s face. He’s beautiful, Magnus thinks. Not just in his features, the softness of his skin, the hue of his eyes, but in his soul, his stead-fast nature, and the way he loves. Magnus can’t believe how lucky he is. His vision tunnels, fading black from the corners, and he closes his eyes to gain composure, only to snap them back open in a panic. Afraid he’ll miss something.

How did they get here? It was supposed to be their day off. Magnus had planned a full day of lounging on the couch, but the universe had other plans, it seems. He should have silenced Alec’s phone.

The world tilts on its axes, and Magnus wills himself to stay in the moment. The hand in his is hot, he squeezes it, desperate to commit the feeling to memory. Alec’s face blurs and Magnus is quick to blink, tears smearing the kohl around his eyes. He looks disheveled, he’s sure, but he can’t care. He just needs to focus.

Please, he begs as another wave hits him.

Five more minutes.

[procrastinatorimagines]

I Want Us Part 8

Fandom: Chicago PD / SVU

Series: I Want Us

Part 1 //  Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)

Pairing/s: Sonny Carisi x Intelligence!Reader

Warning/s: tw rape, murder, assault

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: The Intelligence Unit’s last case with Manhattan SVU had them flying out to New York to track down an abducted boy, and had Dectective Y/L/N and Detective Carisi growing close in the process. Now, a string of rape-murders in Chicago has SVU boarding the next flight out, believing the suspect to be the same man responsible for a set of identical crimes 10 years prior. As the case unfolds, Y/N and Carisi are brought back together, reigniting the spark between them.

Tags: @the-baby-bookworm​ // @inlovewith3​ //

The call came while you were still driving to the address you’d been given on Tate, now your prime suspect - Billy’s alibi for the first murder checked out easily, he was at a track meet with over a dozen witnesses, and there wasn’t exactly any point in checking his alibi for the New York murders, he’d been 7. 

Almost as soon as that call ended, you got a text on your phone. “You mind?” You nodded to your phone, giving Carisi permission to check it as you drove.

“It’s Jay, he says neither families have seen Billy or Tate before,” he relayed, “but that doesn’t mean Tate isn’t our guy, it’d make sense with what we’ve heard so far.”

“Still,” you sighed, turning Tate’s road, his apartment building just up a head, “we’re going to need something more to go on if we’re even going to get into his place, let alone arrest and charge him.”

Carisi couldn’t agree more as you both climbed out the car, making your way towards the building with your badges on hand. They’d get you through the main doors no problem, but getting further...

“Do you have a warrant?” What had you expected, honestly? Standing before the landlord in the main lobby you were greeting with the question you’d seen coming a mile away. 

“Is he here?” Carisi asked anyway, hoping you’d at least find out something useful, even if this turned out to mostly be wasted trip.

“Nah, he hasn’t been back here since yesterday, I’ve got some mail waiting that I need him to take off of my hands,” the landlord explained, sounding bored and impatient with the conversation already. He’d given you something, at least; Tate hadn’t gone home after he’d given his statement to you, he must have somewhere else to lay low - but where?

“You ever seen either of these women before?” Carisi tried, holding up photos of the two Chicago victims on his phone. The landlord shrugged and shook his head.

“Okay, thanks for your time,” you told him, pulling your card out of your pocket, “but if he does come back, at least give us a call?” He grunted in what you couldn’t tell was agreement or not, but he took the card and walked away, which presumably meant you could both see yourselves out.

You grumbled in frustration as soon as you were outside, knowing you’d been this close to your killer and let him slip away, and now you didn’t know where he was. “We’ll post some unis outside in an unmarked car,” Carisi told you, already making the call as you wandered once again back to your car, fresh out of leads to follow.

“Let’s call Benson, see where Tate lived the time of the New York murders, maybe it’ll be enough for a judge to issue a warrant,” you said, casting a glance back at the apartment building. 

“Food?” Carisi suggested once you got to the car. It had been a while, you realised, all this running around you’d been doing hadn’t really left any time for breaks - food was definitely not a bad idea.

“I could eat,” you replied with a smile, dialing Benson’s number as you got back behind the wheel.

“Tell me you have more than we do,” she answered by way of greeting, sounding as frustrated by this case as you. 

You explained the situation as concisely as possible. “Do you think you could find out his old address?”

“Yeah, should only take a moment, stay on the line?” You hummed in agreement and put it on speaker as you heard her place her phone down and begin to type on her keyboard. 

“New York,” Benson confirmed after a moment, “want to try for a warrant?”

“That’s circumstantial at best, I can’t see a judge signing off on that,” Carisi noted, not being happy about saying it though. He was right, but neither of you liked it.

You clicked your tongue, hesitating before saying: “I could ask Voight to maybe-”

“No,” Benson cut in quickly, “we do this by the book, if this is our guy, which I think it is, I don’t want to do anything to jeopardise putting him away for good, understood?”

“Loud and clear Captain,” you promised genuinely.

“Good, Kat and I will look into Tate’s history in New York, maybe we’ll find something we missed now that we know who we’re looking for, we’ll keep you posted,” she informed you both.

“Thanks Cap, we’ll be in touch,” Carisi signed off and you leaned your head back on the seat’s headrest, eyes closed. You only opened them again when you felt Carisi’s hand on your leg.

“Come on, let’s go eat, re-energise and re-focus,” he said, somehow always managing to make you feel instantly better. You nodded and turned on the ignition, knowing exactly where you could grab a quick bite nearby.

You were half way through your sandwich, feeling a bit more self-conscious than usually about how you were eating in the presence of a guy you liked - not that he’d care - when you got yet another phonecall. 

“Hey Kev,” you said, pressing answer with your little finger and hurriedly swallowing what was in your mouth. 

“Hey, Voight asked us to go back through the CCTV from Lily Hamilton’s murder, we’d been looking for the bentley the first time around, but this time we were looking for Tate’s car, just incase.”

“And?” You asked, alert, putting your sandwich down and brushing your hands together as you shared a hopeful look with Carisi.

“We got it,” Kev answered. Was this is? The breakthrough you needed? "Now, the main street cams don’t catch enough, but Vanessa found a private security system set up nearby the cite where her body was discovered. I’ll send you the screen grabs, you tell me how guilty you think this looks.”

Two pings on your phone came a second later, images of a man emerging from Tate’s car carrying a very large bag - definitely large enough for a body. “We got him,” you said triumphantly.

“It gets better,” another voice joined the call from the other end, Hailey’s. “We did some digging into that date the second vic’s sister mentioned and get this, both girls had dates, I’m sending you both the dating profiles and messages we found now-”

Carisi got them up on his phone, showing you briefly and nodding.

“-and it’s pretty damning. They look like different guys at first, but the script is the same, prince charming, true love, you get the picture when you read the messages, anyway, it looks like both girls went to meet up with their mysterious date the nights they went missing.”

“Can we track the IP, see where the messages came from?” You asked, already turning on the ignition yet again, ready to catch this guy once and for all.

“They came from the same location,” she confirmed.

“Tate’s apartment?” Carisi asked hopefully.

“No, a storage facility basically between both the current crime scenes,” she explained, “it’s not under Tate’s name but we called the owner, the man who rents the facitily matches the description, right down to the scar.” 

Another ping on your phones had Carisi showing you the address of the storage facility. “I assume that’s enough for warrants now?” You asked.

“You’ll have everything you need by the time you arrive,” you heard Voight confirm from somewhere else in the room, “I want you and Carisi at the storage facility, Burgess, Dawson and Ruzek will meet you there with Benson and Tamin, the rest of us will head to the apartment.”

“Let’s finish this,” Carisi told you after Voight hung up. You certainly didn’t need to be told twice.

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

They meet in a cancer support group au.

I was going to tag this as Kegboys but it doesn’t really apply. Tommy and Billy are brothers that share Steve their relationship with one another is purely platonic, so it’s really just Harringrove + Stommy.

Warning for Cancer. Tommy and Billy are both in remission but still attend a support group, Steve is recently diagnosed. As usual no sad ending cuz I refuse. I’m not editing this, it was supposed to just be like 500 words to get the plot out of my head and it’s gone way over that and I’m tired. It just popped in my head and I needed it out. It’s got some smut in the middle. 

Tommy and Billy are step brothers that spend most of their time sniping at each other during their support group. Their parents met in a support group themselves, they get along, they just like to pick at one another. Then Steve shows up at group one day, fairly new to his diagnosis, nauseated and unsure if it is nerves or his most recent bout of chemo trying to make sure the few crackers he managed to eat come back up. 

Billy starts picking on him instantly when he gets asked to introduce himself and share, both because he is cute and because Billy is maybe a little jealous he still has his hair, even though Billy’s own is coming back in, it is still too short for his own comfort. Tommy keeps coming to Steve's aid each time knowing exactly what Billy is doing and finding Steve attractive as well. Joyce heaves an exasperated sigh, when the two share a look, knowing no one is going to get a word in if she does not do something. 

Steve is perplexed when he is asked to move and take a spot between them, Joyce assuring him it will help all while looking apologetic. Billy edges away from hostile, tells Steve he like his shoes or something and Steve is just 😒 "are you trying to be friendly now?" Billy maybe blushes and shrugs, letting Tommy lay the groundwork. 

Tommy chats off and on with Steve throughout the meeting and at the end asks "You want to come over watch a movie and cuddle? You look like you could use a good cuddle." Steve is  just sort of standing there staring because what? But also he absolutely wants a cuddle. 

It is Billy piping in with "Studies show cuddling can improve your health." That has Steve agreeing even if it does sound like bullshit. 

Tommy hooking an arm around Steve’s waist and leading him out after Steve cancels his ride "You hungry I could go for some pancakes." 

Steve is hungry even if he is not sure he can eat but "I don't like pancakes but I like French toast." The smile Tommy shoots him eases the nerves trying to roll his stomach as they head down, Billy sharing their elevator. 

Steve does not question Billy's continued presence until he gets in the driver seat of the car that Tommy is holding the door open for him. "We're brothers and we share an apartment." 

They explain it a little and move back to bickering as Billy drives until Tommy says "Where are you going man, head to the diner." 

"Nah I make better French toast than the diner and pretty boy don't mind do yah?" Billy asks looking at Steve through the rearview mirror tracking Steve’s tongue as it darts out to wet his dry lips. 

"That depends what kind of bread you use" and Billy grins wide and sharp and Steve’s gut is warm as he squirms a little. The look Tommy shoots him only makes it worse. 

"What kind do you want me to make, name it I'll make it happen." Billy swats at Tommy when he mouths 'like a bitch' at him most of his attention on Steve. 

"Sourdough, with lots of egg." Steve says around a yawn cracking his jaw flushing anew when Billy winks in the rearview mirror at him. 

"You got it princess." Groaning at the hand Tommy slaps across his chest and they start picking at each other again while Steve rests his head against the window sleepy.

They live in the stupid expensive part of town the type of place Steve’s parent had been talking about putting him up in before he chose art school and got disowned for it. Now he lives in a sketchy little apartment across town with his best friend Robin just thankful he is still on his parents insurance. He does not know what he would do if he did not have their insurance to rely on, glad they did not go so far as to cancel it on him.

"You want to grab a shower? I'll scrounge up some clothes that should fit you for the cuddling." Tommy offers once they are in the apartment and Steve thinks about refusing because it is kind of weird, they hardly know each other but also he does not want to cuddle in what he is currently wearing and he always feels kind of icky after being out so he just gives a tired nod. 

He is led to one of the bedrooms and let into a big bathroom, Tommy saying he will find him something before disappearing to who knows where. Steve eyes the bathtub with desire, only a standing shower in his apartment but he gets into the shower unwilling to overstep any invisible boundary no matter how lax they appear to be. By the time he gets out he finds clothes waiting for him, a soft pair of sweats and a hoodie that Steve pulls on borrowing the deodorant on the bathroom sink.

Tommy and Billy both are showered and changed by the time Steve ventures out going pink at having taken so long. Billy is in the kitchen cooking up food and Tommy is on the couch flipping through a streaming service waving Steve over as soon as he spots him. Steve walks over, hands hidden under the sleeves nervous and unsure, Tommy just pulls him down and manhandles him with a "This okay?" Steve nodding because yes and just melting into the couch with the weight of another person against his side, one arm thrown over him and Tommy's chin pressed into his hair, it is more than okay its really fucking nice.

Steve is half asleep when Billy settles on the couch and there is a plate full of French toast being waved enticing in front of him. Steve mumbles, he is hungry like actually hungry for the first time in days but he is also so fucking tired and content right where he is. Someone chuckles and there is a hand carding through his hair. "It’s okay pretty boy, I know you're tired, I got you open up."  Steve is confused until there is a tap on his jaw and there is a bite of French toast in his mouth and Steve could not be happier.

Steve does not eat much but it is more than he has been able to manage in days. Tommy and Billy just share a pleased grin as they both finish eating and curl closer to Steve while watching the Hobbit for the hundredth time.

It becomes their thing, they have a meeting and after Steve is always invited to come home with them for a cuddle and food and he always accepts. They still snipe in meetings but it is more just targeted at one another instead of picking on whoever is talking and Steve actually starts looking forward to those meetings. Having Billy and Tommy there, two people he knows helps him feel more comfortable with all of it, makes it not seem so scary every time. 

Until Steve is too sick to go, dead tired from another round and aching miserably tossing and turning in bed instead of comfortably curled up between Tommy and Billy on their couch that is definitely more comfortable than his old bed. Robin has come in and checked on him a few times but no matter how much he wants it he does not ask her to cuddle knowing she is not big on touch and though she would probably do it for him he knows she would be uncomfortable the entire time.

There is a knock on his bedroom door and Steve groans as it opens and light comes in his eyes hurt even with the dull light. "Hey dingus you got company. I know you're not really up for any but I think you'll want me to let them in." Steve does not give an answer, just groans again and tries to bury his head under his pillow until gentle hands are moving him around.

A shuddering breath leaves Steve as he is boxed in-between two walls of heat soothing his aches and hands are carding through his hair. "You didn’t come to group Stevie, we got worried." Tommy mumbled against his cheek.

"Use your phone next time." Billy grumbles arms tight around Steve, face hidden in his hair. 

Steve mumbles out a tired “Sorry” so glad they are there as he finally drifts off to sleep after a night and day full of restless tossing and turning.

They start hanging out more than directly after groups, Steve nearly always at their place, sleeping in one of their beds, more often than not tucked between the two. Steve is tired but he is having a good day when things shift, when Tommy lays kisses against his neck and asks “Is this okay?” 

Steve squeaking out a “yes” trying not to give away how eager he is, how often he has thought about this, trying not to think about Billy who he has thought about just as often somewhere in the apartment. Tommy fucking him hard and fast, clothes still mostly on too excited to get them all off himself or Steve. Steve spills all over the couch and Tommy’s hand, Tommy managing a few more thrusts before he is cumming and sagging over Steve struggling to get out of his sweater much too hot.

“I’m going to get some water for us.” Tommy says helping Steve get the offending garment off, laying a kiss at Steve’s shoulder before moving back.

Steve’s got his face pressed into the cushions still panting, when he feels a tug on the pants trapping his ankles and starts trying to kick them off at the reminder. “Easy pretty boy, I got you.” Steve is startled to hear Billy’s voice followed by a low chuckle, melting as a hand smoothes over his backside “Let me?” 

Steve gulps at the question but he would be lying if he said he did not want it just as much as he wanted Tommy, still he is conflicted until he hears Tommy call from the kitchen “Give him some water first, gonna dehydrate him, for fucks sake you impatient bastard.” the sound of something being caught sounds from above and then Billy has a hand in his hair encouraging him to rise up.

“Dumbass is right, here drink some of this.” Billy says softly, gentler than he normally is as he tips the plastic bottle to pour into Steve mouth and he could do it himself, he is lax but not weak, he could drink himself but it feels nice being taken care off. “Let me?” Billy asks again once the water is settled back on the coffee table, hands petting through Steve’s hair and over his flank, and Steve wants low grade heat burning in his belly.

“Easy, I got you baby, let me take care of you.” It is slower and softer, Billy shifting Steve to his back before pressing in, laying kisses all over Steve as he slides in slow and deep, a contrast to the speed with which Tommy had taken him apart. Heat building between them, Steve a moaning mess, so close kept right on the edge for what seems like forever with Billy refusing to go faster. 

Steve does not realize he is crying until gentle fingers wipe his tears, does not know when Tommy settled by his head on the couch. “It’s okay baby, just ask, Billy will let you.” Tommy instructs and it takes Steve’s brain a little bit to get what he means, he did not realize that is what is keeping him on edge, did not realize that is what he is waiting for.

Steve cries a little harder, embarrassed by how bad he wants it, words stuck in his throat. “Shush, it's okay baby, come on, all you have to do is ask, I won’t deny you.” Billy pants out nuzzling against Steve’s cheek.

“Please, please can I cum.” Steve gets out words broken up by gasping cries.

“Fuck, yeah baby, cum for me, I’ve got you.” Billy keeps saying that keeps reassuring Steve and fuck if that is not as mind numbing as the orgasum that rocks through him. Billy is still murmuring reassurances among praise as Steve cums back down, a little disappointed that he missed Billy cumming to busy being rocked by his own pleasure. Tommy too, hand running through his hair reassuring him of how good he was for both of them before offering him some water and Steve is just a melty gooey contented mess until Billy moves and he can feel the cum dripping out of him.

“Let’s all get cleaned up pretty boy, then we can settle down for a cuddle.” Billy offers scooping him up.

It becomes a thing, on days when Steve is not terribly sick the both of them taking their turns with him, Tommy always a little rough despite his general nicer demeanor and Billy still surprising Steve with how tender and gentle it always is even if he makes Steve beg for release. Steve loves all of it, loves both of them, spends most of his time in their apartment rather than his own.

Things are good, really good and then Billy is in some sort of mood a little gruffer and a little meaner when he is not fucking into Steve and Steve worries about him but know better than to bring it up Billy has a lot of bark. Steve has finals come and he does not get to see them for a whole week busy trying to get as much rest as he can between each test and studying. 

When he gets to the apartment after his last final only Tommy there to greet him and Steve worries when he notices some of Billy’s things missing. “Billy isn’t here?” He asks gut hollow because Billy had been off and now he is not here and Steve’s mind immediately goes to the worst.

“Hey it’s okay, you still got me, come here.” Tommy says, dragging Steve close when he looks like he might cry, he is an easy crier so Tommy does not think too much on it, just assumes Steve is disappointed he will not be getting cuddles from both of them. Assumes he is crying so hard because of the stress of finals week finally being over. 

Tommy does not even think to mention where Billy is, assumes Billy told Steve. He will be back in a week, Billy had lingered as long as he could before having to catch his flight, but unfortunately Steve had not gotten here until an hour later. So Tommy just assumes the sad mood that takes over Steve all week is him missing Billy.

Billy who is off speaking to the mother he has not seen in years after she left him with Neil who thankfully passed shortly after he married Susan the woman who has been raising him since he was ten, who is more of a mother than Lorraine had ever been. He refuses to take calls from anyone, keeps sending Tommy’s to voicemail because he is in a foul mood, he only went looking for her because she might be a match, he might need her bone marrow if his cancer ever decides it is done with remission. He does not call Steve even though he wants to because he knows he will lash out and Steve does not deserve that. 

Steve is a mess and he does not understand why Tommy would not tell him, why he will not talk about Billy being gone, will not tell Steve what took him, if it was cancer related or something more sudden and unexpected. Steve does not even know when the funeral is, but every time he brings up Billy, tears in his eyes, Tommy just drags him close and reassures him that he is still here, that he is not going anywhere, that it is going to be okay. It hurts but he figures Tommy does not want to talk about it, that it is his way of coping and he tries not to bring it up as much. It does not stop him from digging through Billy’s closet and wearing his clothes around the apartment, curling up in Billy’s bed. Tommy coming in and wrapping himself around Steve with a sad look each night. 

Tommy is out getting breakfast hoping to cheer Steve up some from missing Billy, a little wrong footed with how sad Steve is over his absence. Is on his way back when he runs into Billy getting out of a cab nearly losing the coffee. “You didn’t say you were coming back today.” A little more aggression to his tone than necessary Billy catching it as he looks at the baked goods and fancy coffee.

“What did you do?” Billy asks, it looks like an apology breakfast to him.

“I didn’t fucking do anything asshole, he’s been inconsolable since you fucking left.” Tommy grits out as they catch the elevator together. 

“And you think it means he likes me more.” Billy digs with a sharp grin, would be lying if he said he did not like the idea of being the favorite.

“Oh fuck off.” Tommy practically growls because Billy got it in one.

They are still teasing and bickering with one another as they come in until the sound of a mug hitting the ground startles them out of it. Bill has a clinging Steve in his arms before he can blink, sobbing into his neck, arms nearly too tight and Billy just blinks at Tommy confused because this reaction seems way over the top to him. Tommy just stands there pouting.

“Pretty boy, hey what’s wrong what's got you so worked up?” Billy asks because Tommy is an idiot there is clearly more going on than Steve missing him.

“I thought you died.” Steve gets out between sobbing breaths and Billy and Tommy share a wide eyed look both of them trying to figure out when they mentioned to Steve where Billy was going and coming up empty. Mouthing curses at one another over Steve’s head.

“Tommy was supposed to tell you I was going to be away for the week, what the fuck Tommy!” Billy immediately throws him under the bus before cooing at Steve that he is sorry and he is fine while Tommy gapes at him pissed off he did not think to do it to Billy first. He is comforted by the fact that Steve’s devastation has not been about missing his favorite but he feels really guilty that neither of them told Steve about Billy’s trip.

They end up spending the next week trying to make it up to him and outdo one another.

[claraswritings]

I fell in love (with you) in stages - CH20- FINALE

Pairing: Steve Harrington x HendersonReader

Warnings: Series typical violence, language and spoilers for all seasons

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I have just been through a break up (my choice but still a hard choice) and it kind of put everything else on the back burner for a while.

**

Tags: @hannarudick @felicityofbakerstreet @sledgy14 @kiara-uwu @lookalivesunshine-x @loulouloueh @loco-latte @mikariell95 @queenofthehairharrington @lovelydaydreams15 @anonymousonion23 @mochminnie @prettysbliss

**

A few seconds later and the car collided with the side of Billy’s Camaro t-boning it and stopping it in its tracks before it reached the others. You felt yourself lurch forward then slide sideways into Steve.

The car came to a halt and Steve looked up, loosening his grip on the steering wheel

“You okay?” he asked, concerned turning to you almost immediately. He reached over to push your hair back. The worry over you was evident , the last thing he wanted was for you to be hurt due to his crazy idea.

“Never better,” you gave him a wry smile. “Are you?”

“Are you sure,” he asked again

“Steve.” you pressed. “I promise i’m fine, i’m just glad your idea worked, you are...amazing” You cupped his face with your hands and gave him a quick kiss.

The two of you sat for a second, catching your breath, before the smell of smoke coming from the Camaro, diverted your attention. Jonathan pulled up beside the now immobile Toddfather and gestured for you and Steve to get in. You didn’t even hesitate, scrambling in with your boyfriend following. He’d barely pulled the door shut before the creature leapt down with a roar and took off after the car, advancing after you.

**

You had barely taken your eyes off that...thing in hot pursuit of the vehicle. It was only the crackling of the radio made you jump and the sudden sound of an unfamiliar girls voice and your brothers perky tone told you it could only be one person.

“Wait. She’s real?” Steve turned to look at the radio too, clicking on at the same time. “Huh...gotta say I thought he was making her up,”

“I wish,” you rolled your eyes “He’s got some imagination but not enough to go on about her for as long as he did,”

If Steve thought hed had to listen to Dustin’s “Reasons why Suzie is great” monologue, he was in for a surprise. He had only heard the start of it. In the car journey back from the camp, you’d had hours of it. Not that you’d begrudge him, his first ever teenage romance. You were happy for your brother, after Max and Lucas had got together and Mike and El, you’d worried he’d be left behind.

Steve looked to be considering your reply “Eh yeah makes sense,” he shrugged. As a surprisingly melodic voice began floating through the radio. Steve wondered for a second if he was still drugged. It wasn’t until you spoke that he realised...nope, that really was Dustin singing.

“Is he singing? The song from Neverending Story?” your jaw was slack at the sheer madness of the situation. Being chased by some huge monster, in a car with your best friend who’d become your boyfriend in the past hour, his ex and your brother who had chosen now of all moments to start serenading his girlfriend over a radio.

“Is that one with the big white dog?”

“I think it’s supposed to be a dragon, Steve” you bit your lip, pointing out his mistake quietly. He was adorable when he was oblivious.

“Really” his brow knitted as Suzie began to join in with the singing. “They’re still going,”

“Are they going to do the whole song,” you remarked. “Don’t know if Dustins forgetting it’s kind of urgent” your face pulled into a grimace, and for a second your eyes flickered back to the monster.

Stomach churning, you looked away again, deep down, you feared the car would run out of fuel before you reached your destination and there was absolutely no way you’d outrun it on foot.

“Do you want me to sing to you” Steve offered casually. He sensed your discomfort and worry and even though he was freaking out himself, he hoped his lame attempt at humour would make you smile.

You snorted “Absoutely not...If you even try I’m throwing myself out of this car,”

“Even with that,” Steve gestured at the creature from the back window, pulling a face, as the love struck duo finished their song.

“I’ll take my chances,” you teased.. as Steve took his turn to scan out of the back window.

“Erm....” he poked you in the arm after a second “Why is it stopping, why is it turning around?” Before you could speculate, Steve leant forward tapping the others and sticking his head through to the drivers side to alert Jonathan.

“Guys that thing is turning around, It’s stopping, it must be going somewhere else,”

Jonathan eyed you both in the rear view before sighing, spinning the car, making a lurching U turn and following it back

“I can’t believe we’re actually going back, we must be dumb” You remarked under your breath

“Yeah i’ve been coming to that conclusion myself” he replied

“We should take Dustin to see her,” you commented as Jonathan began tailing the monster being careful to keep a reasonable distance from it. “We can make a road trip out of it, we’ll stock up on the nougat for Dustin and we can get a big bag of sours for us, we’ll get a motel along the way, obviously we’ll get a room to ourselves, i’ve got enough from working at the video store flat out, we can take your car, it’s nicer than mine and it’ll make Dustin look cool in front of Suzie. He’s probably told her all about you, y’know”

You were aware you were rambling but it was anything to take your mind of the idea that you might not have a tomorrow to think about as soon as you got to where that thing was going.

Steve nodded, he couldn’t quite say how much he liked the idea of getting a road trip with you, about how much he’d love to drop Dustin at Suzies for the day to let the young love birds catch up and for you and him to go out somewhere just the two of you, maybe even stay in a motel, order room service and make out. Instead he just leant over and gave you a kiss. In that moment he decided, If you were about to rush into probable death he wouldn’t let it happen without telling you.

He didn’t care anymore that Nancy or Jonathan could see if they glanced over their shoulder.

“I love you, I’ve been in love with you for ages” his tone was low, just enough for you to hear.

“I love you, Steve,” you kissed him again. The way you said it was different to how Nancy used to say it. You didn’t hesitate to return the sentiment, your eyes met his when you said it and you gave him a smile in spite of the beyond dangerous situation you were barrelling towards.

“We go together right,” you asked.

You didn’t need to ask. Steve knew.

“What? The road trip or certain death?” he quirked his eyebrows.

“Both,”

**

Lucas had briefed you all outside of Starcourt on his plan, and handed you all a fair amount of fireworks each. You’d break into sections; and surround the creature on the top, meaning El, Max and Mike wouldn’t be stuck fighting from the lower mall. His plan was basically “light, throw, grab another, throw again”.

Being completely to the point, you weren’t sure it would work but hell. It was the best you had.

Together you’d crept up the metal stairs of the fire exit, trying hard to stop your legs shaking. You could hear the low frequency roars of the monster from where you stood. It sounded like it was coming from all sides.

Once you made your way out of the door and on to the top level, there’d be no turning back.

You took a breath before resting your shaking hand on the door handle. The others had headed to the other entrances to the upper floor.

“Hey, we’ve got this” Steve who was only one step behind you, sensed your apprehension “Remember what you said. We stick together. You’ll have me with you the whole time, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you,”

You nodded and as you pushed open the door and crept to your positions, you could see the monster climb down through the wide open ceiling and advance towards El, who was trying to edge away from it as Billy watched expressionless.

Steve caught Lucas’ eye and nodded. The monster stilled, it’s mouth expanding.

“Okay [Name.]. Now” Lucas called over to you both, standing up and lobbing the firework directly into its side.

The creature let out a pained growl

“Flay this, you ugly piece of shit,” the younger boy called, his next firework hitting it directly in the mouth as it snapped around to the source.

“Nice aim” you called over

The mall lit up in a series of greens, yellows and reds as you broke away from taking turns throwing from different sides to bombarding from any direction.

“Erm guys,” Steve shouted over the crackling of the fireworks “We’re almost out over here,”

“I know” Will shouted back, his voice loud over the exploding “So are we!”

You threw one of your last large fireworks, and whipped around to Steve “It has to be now,” You told him, tossing your radio over before turning back to the dwindling pile. “I’ll keep throwing, call it in,”

Wasting no time, Steve forgone the call signs and scrambled for the radio “Dustin! We’re out of time!”

You could only vaguely hear your brothers reply. The crackling and banging from all ends plus the blood thumping in your ears was overwhelming everything.

Beneath you, you could see Billy had wrestled El to the ground and despite her struggling, hed gained the upper hand.

You fumbled back to the bag at the same time as Steve and you both reached inside, but your hands only found one firework left.

Shit.

His eyes met yours. “You or me,” he asked, a little breathless.

“You. You’ve got better aim” you rushed back, grabbing the lighter and lighting the fuse for Steve to lob the final firework.

From your glance over to Jonathan and Nancy you could see they had also ran out.

“What now?” you shouted, over the noise. The smoke trails of the fireworks were clearing and through the wisps and sparks, you could see Billy grapple with El as the monster inched forward.

“It’s not enough, we haven’t done enough,” you pressed your hands to your face. “Shit we need to do something,”

Steve glanced over at the floor below, he could see Billy stand up, as the creature let out a deafening roar.

“Come on come on come on, close the gate already” he muttered.

Billy’s arms shot out in an attempt to stop it, only to scream out in pain when it latched on to him.

“Fuck” you cursed. “What the hell is he doing? Should we help him?,” you turned to the others, your eyes wide. Jonathan looked pale white and Nancy shook her head

“I don’t think we can,” she bit her lip. “I don’t think we can do anymore,”

The monster took one last stab at Billy before dropping him, leaving him bleeding heavily on the floor of the mall. Max let out a loud scream that you could hear from your positions above even over all the chaos and you felt your heart break for her. Billy had never been the nicest brother to her but he was her brother nonetheless and he’d clearly sacrificed himself to save El. In spite of everything, he’d given himself up to save one of the kids.

Only a moment later and you heard an almighty screech and saw one of the many limbs flailing towards you, careening into the railing beside you.

“Get back” Steve turned towards you and pulled you back towards one of the walls and away from the edge, just in time.

With a groan and a thud that shook the whole mall, it fell to the ground with a weak snarl.

“Did...they? did they...” Steve couldn’t get the words out, as they fumbled over his lips unable to quite form a full sentence. One hand was still gripping the radio so hard you were surprised it hadn’t cracked, the other holding on to yours.

You could hear your brother and Erica on the other end but your ears were still ringing, and you could barely make out what they were saying.

You could only nod. “I think so”.

**

By the time, you were checked over, things had slowly started to set in, you’d been asked by about three men in uniform

what the hell had happened, and given the same version of events each time.

After that they’d given you a blanket and you’d joined Steve on the back of the ambulance, who wrapped in his own blanket had rested his head on your shoulder.

The two of you sat in silence, watching everyone mill around in the wreck that once was Starcourt. The skies had opened to rain for what felt like the first time in ages and you couldn’t help but turn your face up to the cool mist.

“I think I’m ready to go home,” you muttered to him, after a few moments. “We should get some sleep”

“Don’t. I... uh-,” Steve paused “I don’t want to be alone, not after all that,” he grimaced. “My dads out of town and...l”

“You won’t be alone, silly, you’ll be with me...and Dustin,” you reached for his hand in a small comforting gesture. “You didn’t think I’d leave you alone after all that, did you,”

Steve lifted his head off your shoulder and looked at you, taking in every detail of your face, the way the rain had plastered your tussled hair to your face, the wide eyed gaze focused on him, the curve of your nose and the tweak of your lips. You were without a doubt, in his mind, the best person he had ever known.

“What?” you eyebrows piqued.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he leant in pressing his forehead to yours.

Your heart broke a little at that. Your brave, bright, upbeat Steve didn’t even see how wonderful he was. How sweet he was, how kind he was to the kids, how dorky he was and how much you loved when he just embraced it. He looked completely drained.

You moved your hands up to cup his face. His cuts had been cleaned by one of the paramedics but he still sported a fairly nasty black eye. You kicked yourself mentally for having left him and Robin to the Russians, even though you knew if you’d attempted to take on a Russian soldier, you’d likely have gotten into a lot worse.

“Steve...”

“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you,” he carried on.

“You’d be fine,” you traced his cheekbone, softly as not to put pressure on the bruises. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for”

“I really wouldn’t,” he broke your gaze for a second before you tilted his face back up to place a kiss on his lips. “Even still I wouldn’t want to ever be without you,”

“Well you don’t have to be without me, I’m not going anywhere,”

Steve offered his hand up only holding up his pinky “Promise?,”

“Forever and ever,” you kept one hand on his cheek before linking the pinky on your free hand with the one he had held up to you.

[wrestlingisfake]

AEW Fake Rankings, 9/25/2021

Men's singles division - babyfaces

CM Punk

Bryan Danielson

Jon Moxley (GCW world champion)

Chris Jericho

Cody Rhodes

Darby Allin

Christian Cage (Impact men's world champion)

Eddie Kingston

Orange Cassidy

Brian Pillman, Jr.

Men's singles division - heels

Kenny Omega (AEW men's world champion, AAA mega champion)

Miro (AEW TNT champion)

MJF

Malakai Black

Adam Cole

Andrade El Idolo

Matt Hardy

Powerhouse Hobbs

Shawn Spears

Daniel Garcia*

Unranked: Brian Cage, Dante Martin, Dustin Rhodes, Frankie Kazarian, Feugo Del Sol, Jake Hager, John Silver, Lance Archer, Lee Johnson, Matt Sydal, PAC, QT Marshall

* Not listed on official AEW website roster

A big talking point lately is that AEW's roster has gotten pretty huge. One effect of this expansion is that it's a major pain in the ass for me to keep track of all the wrestlers who mainly compete on the YouTube shows. Going forward, I'll be focusing on the performers who have wrestled in the past 30 days on television or pay-per-views.

There's concern that the big stars from other major-league companies (mostly WWE) will crowd out the wrestlers who came up from the minors. That issue became more clear to me when I put together the above list. Twelve of my men's top 20 came to AEW best known for their WWE runs, and Omega made his name in New Japan. So if you expected AEW to be "the best of the rest," you're left with Darby, Eddie, Orange, Pillman, MJF, Hobbs, Garcia, and a bunch of guys in the background.

We'll have to see if this becomes a problem. I'm optimistic that AEW knows what they're doing, and wrestlers will be regularly cycled into and out of the spotlight. But WWE has conditioned wrestling fans to think that if a wrestler only appears on the C-show, then the bookers have totally given up on them. So I don't blame fans for being skeptical that AEW can find a better way. It's on AEW to prove that guys like Brian Cage, Pac, John Silver, Dante Martin, and Lee Johnson will get their day in the sun. And that's not even getting into the dozens of wrestlers that aren't listed above.

Men's tag team division - babyfaces

Lucha Bros. - Rey Fenix & Penta El 0M (AEW tag team champions, AAA tag team champions)

Santana & Ortiz

Jurassic Express - Luchasaurus & Jungle Boy

Evil Uno & Stu Grayson

Chuck Taylor & Wheeler YUTA*

Men's tag team division - heels

The Young Bucks - Matt Jackson & Nick Jackson

Men of the Year - Ethan Page & Scorpio Sky

FTR - Cash Wheeler & Dax Harwood

The Butcher & The Blade

Private Party & Marq Quen & Isiah Kassidy

2point0 - Matt Lee & Jeff Parker

TH2 - Jack Evans & Angelico

* Not listed on official AEW website roster

At any given time, AEW has about 16-20 active tag teams, but a lot of them are mainly on Dark and Elevation. Limiting the rankings to teams that have been on real TV in the past month gives us just twelve men's teams. Then again, that's still more than you'll see on most other wrestling shows.

I think it's important that three of the heel teams (Butcher/Blade, Quen/Kassidy, Evans/Angelico) are in Matt Hardy's stable, so it feels like Matt is begging for one of those teams to break away and turn face. The Dark Order also features three teams (Uno/Grayson, John Silver/Alex Reynolds, Alan Angels/Preston Vance), but their storyline about internal problems could break up one or more of those pairings, if not the entire faction. Interestingly, they've started to set up a feud between the entire Hardy Family Office and the sort-of reunited Dark Order, which may be where they blow off a lot of these issues.

Women's division - babyfaces

Ruby Soho

Kris Statlander

Thunder Rosa

Anna Jay

Tay Conti

Hikaru Shida

Big Swole

Riho

Red Velvet

Leyla Hirsch

Women's division - heels

Britt Baker (AEW women's world champion)

Jade Cargill

Nyla Rose

The Bunny

Penelope Ford

Jamie Hayter

Abadon

Diamante*

Unranked: Emi Sakura, Kiera Hogan*, KiLynn King*

* Not listed on official AEW website roster

AEW doesn't do a lot of women's matches on Dynamite and Rampage, but because of the battle royale on the 9/4 pay-per-view some of the overlooked ladies managed to make the cut.

We've seen some alliances forming in this division, which has stoked talk of introducing a women's tag team championship. However, it looks like AEW has other plans, involving a new women's TBS title to complement the men's TNT title.

I don't think the women's roster is deep enough to support any new belts. That doesn't mean I don't want a secondary title or a tag title. I do. But I'm not convinced that introducing a new title will commit AEW to actually push more wrestlers and expand the roster. That commitment is what I really want; new belts are just gravy.

Part-time/semi-retired: Chavo Guerrero Jr., Homicide, Karl Anderson (Impact men's tag team champion), Luke Gallows (Impact men's tag team champion), Mark Henry, Minoru Suzuki, Rebel, Sting, Tully Blanchard, Paul Wight

I don't get the impression that Homicide and Suzuki will be sticking around for very long. Aside from them, all AEW is getting from the "forbidden door" these days is Gallows and Anderson, and all they do lately is stand in the back of Kenny Omega's entourage. These crossovers have been fun and all, but they've been more like Green Lantern/Silver Surfer than JLA/Avengers, if you get my drift.

The Dan Lambert/American Top Team storyline appears to be setting up some kind of match involving Junior dos Santos, Jorge Masvidal, Paige VanZant, and a bunch of other MMA jagoffs I can't be bothered to remember. We'll see if that actually happens, or if they just jerk around about it for another two months.

No TV or PPV matches in 30 days: Aaron Solo, Alan Angels, Alex Reynolds, Anthony Bowens, Austin Gunn, Billy Gunn, Colt Cabana, Colten Gunn, Griff Garrison, Joey Janela, Luther, Marko Stunt, Max Caster, Nick Comoroto, Peter Avalon, Preston Vance, Ricky Starks (FTW champion), Shawn Dean, Sonny Kiss, Wardlow

This doesn't include people like Julia Hart and Serpentico, who regularly appear for AEW but aren't on the official roster and apparently aren't under contract. Regardless, this gives you a good sense of which wrestlers would be the "AEW Dark roster," if we treated it like a separate brand or something. It'll be interesting to check in a few months which of these names are still stuck in this category.

No matches in 30 days: Anthony Ogogo, Brandi Rhodes, Brandon Cutler, Christopher Daniels, Leva Bates, Michael Nakazawa, Sammy Guevara, Yuka Sakazaki

As huge as AEW's roster is, it's impressive that only eight wrestlers are listed here. Guevara has a match set for 9/29, and Daniels is doing a little crossover thing on Impact Wrestling. Brandi just got back from maternity leave, and while I assume she plans to get back in the ring, that remains to be seen. As for the others, it's possible some of these people have injuries or are taking time off, and the details just haven't gotten out.

Inactive

Darius Martin (knee - unspecified ACL injury)

Hangman Page (paternity leave)

Kip Sabian (undisclosed injury)

Serena Deeb (left knee - unspecified injury)

Trent Beretta (neck - herniated intervertebral disc)

The big story here is Page, who was being set up for a major run for Kenny Omega only to suddenly lose his title shot and disappear from the show. That left everyone pretty anxious for Page to get back, especially since a wave of big new stars could crowd him out of his spot. I'm sure AEW knows when Hangman is scheduled to return, but there's no way for any of us to figure it out, which is frustrating.

Trent had neck fusion surgery, which has a notoriously slow recovery time; I don't expect him to be on TV until the middle of 2022. I haven't seen any kind of timetable for Sabian or Martin, probably because there are so few details available about the extent of their injuries.

Deeb had knee surgery in March, returned to the ring in May, and went back on the shelf in July. Evidently she came back too soon, and she's still rehabbing the original knee injury. I worry about that kind of thing when I see Britt Baker (or Impact's Chelsea Green) working through a broken wrist.

[themonkeycabal]

WandaVision Episode 9 Spoilers

I can't believe we're already at the finale. 

This has been better than I expected, though I didn't have any particular expectations one way or the other. I had hoped it would be bonkers, and it's had its moments, but I didn't expect it to be breaking my heart. I'm glad Wanda (and Elizabeth Olsen) got this moment to shine. It was very well done, and it's been nice to have fun with a Marvel property again. It's been a little while.

My wishlist for this episode is simply that somebody, anybody punch Acting Director Dick square in the face. And also that Jimmy Woo arrests him. A lot.

Other than that, I don't know what to expect, or how they wrap this up in 30 minutes.

Previously on: Wanda finally earned the name Scarlet Witch after Agatha made her relive the worst moments of her life. Harsh, Agatha. Vision uttered a line that launched a thousand gif sets. And Hayward revealed his genius masterplan which is a reactivated Vision, devoid of color and powered by the energy bleeding from Wanda's hex. I'm sure that will go swimmingly for him.

Let's see how this all ends.

Agatha still has magical tethers around Billy and Tommy's necks, which obviously Wanda doesn't like. Agatha gives the boys a tug, knocking them back, and Wanda lets loose, walloping Agatha. The boys are now free, but Wanda tells them to go to their room. They object, she insists, Tommy grabs Billy and they zoom off. Wanda hits Agatha again with a hex, but Agatha sort of collects it into a little glowy ball in her hand. Oops.

"I take power from the undeserving. It's kinda my thing."

Wanda notices her hand turning gray and gnarly — the look of somebody about to be magically mummified. Agatha hits her with a hex and taunts her some more.

"You're clearly in over your little, red head, so why don't you surrender your magic to someone who knows what to do with it?" Agatha, you're pushing your luck. "I'll let you keep this pathetic corner of the world all to yourself. What do you say?"

Wanda says she will throw a car right at your face, Agatha. I laughed. Didn't see that coming, did you? Knocked Agatha right out of her boots.

As Wanda is investigating, Director Dick's white Vision floats down behind her. He's creepy looking.

Wanda walks over to him, staring at him. "Is it really you?"

He puts his hands on her face, all gentle like, but it's a lie. He starts to squeeze. "And I was told you were powerful."

Gross, AD Dick. I hope you get stepped on by Ant-Man when he's being Giant-Man.

Sitcom World Vision (hereafter just plain old Vision) makes a timely reappearance, and takes out Not!Vision. He wants to know where the boys are, Wanda assures him they're safe, and she apologizes for everything and that she should have told him what was happening, "the moment I realized what I'd done". Poor Wanda. He tells her it's alright. She says she can fix it. Not!Vision climbs out of the burning remains of a camper.

Agatha reappears to note the awkwardness of the situation. She asks Wanda who she's going to choose, the ex or the boyfriend. What happens when Wanda hits you with more power than you can contain, Agatha?

Wanda tells Vision "this is our home." He agrees, "then let's fight for it." I hope for the best for you two crazy kids! Marvel has a dicey record on happy endings, though. Sorry!

Vision takes off towards Not!Vision again. Agatha flies off, too, and Wanda follows.

Across the street Monica is pounding on a window, calling for Wanda. Fietro, lounging with a guitar in his … stoner den?, tells her nobody can hear her. Can we talk about how Monica's SWORD uniform looks like ST:Next Gen unis? I can't stop seeing it and it's distracting. Anyway, she tries to escape, but, Fietro is still all fast and stuff, so she's thwarted.

In the sky, Vision and Not!Vision battle. Not!Vision says Wanda must be neutralized and Vision must be destroyed. Hmm. Not!Vision tries to rip out the stone in Vision's forehead but Vision goes intangible. More fighting with intangibleness. It's pretty cool.

Outside Westview, AD Dick is feeling cocky as he watches both Visions on tracking monitors. I loathe him so much. Jimmy Woo is brought in handcuffed by a pair of SWORD goons. I'm sorry, who the f is SWORD? Like, they have arrest powers now? Dick says "hey, it's my favorite member of the Bureau." New wishlist: everybody gets to take turns punching AD Dick in the face.

Dick asks his minion to reconfirm mission objectives while Jimmy listens carefully, mentally noting each and every violation of federal law and the Sokovia Accords. 

The minion says she can't get through to not!Vision, his system is overloaded. A cellphone rings on a desk nearby and Jimmy eyes it, then tells Hayward that he'll never be able to cover up these shenanigans. 

While Dick is busy boasting and the SWORD goons are doing everything but paying attention to their prisoner (in my head all the SWORD goons applied to SHIELD but Maria Hill laughed at each and every one of their applications and then called Pepper to laugh some more and then texted choice bits to May tagging them "RE: LOL"), Jimmy eases over and grabs the phone.

"Wanda canceled her show,” Dick says with the sort of confidence only an enormous prick can muster, “so there's no footage proving there was ever more than one Vision."

Jimmy points out that that is dumb, because there is other footage, from SWORD HQ and stuff, and probably evidence of tampering. He casually sits on a table, shaking his head, like he's just so disappointed (i'm hoping he's somehow managed to use the phone to record the monolog-ing) .

Dick is still too far up his own ass to notice Jimmy being sneaky. "No one's going to care once I've eliminated Wanda Maximoff. They'll believe that the Vision that emerges from the Westview rubble is the one she illegally tried to bring back to life."

Wait, bringing him back to life is illegal? You're full of shit, Dick. And also, an extremely terrible person, who will destroy a whole town for … something? A Vision weapon? Who are you fighting, Dick? BTW, I award him no sympathy points for surviving in the post-Snap world. So if he's been scarred by that or whatever, I don't care. Trauma doesn't excuse murdery megalomania. As has been said before: Cool motive, still murder. I hope Vision intangibles him into a lamp post that gets peed on every day by a parade of small dogs.

"They'll thank me for recovering such a valuable asset. You could be part of that victory, Jimmy. If only you had a little more … vision" says the smug prick who is asking for it. And by it I mean something both terrible and humiliating to happen to him asap.

Jimmy fake laughs back. "That's a good one, Hayward. Okay, I'm convinced. The trouble is my friends at Quantico will probably have something to say about your plan. When they arrive. Inside the hour." heh.

Oh, poor Dick doesn't like being mocked back. He tells his brain-dead goons to remove Jimmy. The goons throw Jimmy into a … stack of hay? In a fenced in cage thing? As you have on your pop-up military facility. Where he sets to work removing his handcuffs with a clip he also stole, because Jimmy Woo is cool like that. Close Up Magic! See the things you can learn from criminals. "Flourish" lol. 

He calls his friends at Quantico. "I was hoping you could get here … inside the hour?"

Back in Westview. Wanda is looking for Agatha while the town goes about its business. Weirdo delivery guy drives by "Don't shoot. I'm just the messenger. ha ha."

Then she gets hit in the back by a purple hex. Ouch. She has hit the pavement hard kind of a lot in this episode already. That hurts, my dudes, I know this from personal falling down experience. Wanda's hand, by the way, is still looking ashy and not very healthy.

Agatha taunts her from a rooftop. "Did you know there's an entire chapter devoted to you in the Darkhold." How could she know that, Agatha? Also, boo the Darkhold. That bit of nastiness led to the Framework, and I'm still a little scarred by that myself. "That's the book of the damned," says the witch standing in front of a billboard for "Squeaky Shine" lol.

Agatha produces the Darkhold and recites from it, "The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no coven, nor need for incantation." Wanda insists she isn't a witch, nobody taught her magic.

Agatha continues, "Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme" Steven Strange will like that. Not much. He's so twitchy about things like that. "It's your destiny to destroy the world." Always with the destinies. FREE WILL FOREVAH!

Wanda insists she's not the Scarlet Witch thingy. Agatha says "oh really?" and uses her mojo on Emma Caulfield. Hi Emma Caulfield! She seems to be 'awake' and introduces herself to Wanda (who knew her as Dottie) "My name is Sarah. I have a daughter, she's 8, maybe she could be friends with your boys. If you like that storyline. Or the school bully, even. Really anything, if you could just let her out of her room. If I could just hold her." Wow, ouch.

Speaking of free will or the lack of, Wanda accuses Agatha of doing this, but Agatha says "She's your meat puppet. I just cut her strings." Poor Wanda. And now Agatha wakes up the whole town, who all head towards Wanda.

And we cut to Fietro's den of manchildness. Monica asks what that place is, but come on Monica, it's clearly a den of manchildness. Fietro is making himself a smoothie and explaining the purpose of a mancave — chillaxing.

Monica ignores him and rifles through his bills and whatnot. She finds a headshot of Fietro with the name "Ralph Bohner" underneath. Because, people just keep their headshots lying around willynilly. Wait, are we saying Ralph is an actor? Lol. 

Fietro meanwhile is planning for a Steven Segal marathon — my dad and I watched all of those movies and for the life of me I could not tell you why. We didn't *like* them. I mean, mostly we laughed, but still. Why?

Anyway, Monica is trying to solve the mystery of Fietro. It's not Agatha's house (obviously) it's Fietro's (Ralph). He's an ass and asks if she wants to fight some more, so she flips him over her shoulder and pins him down, trying to figure out how Agatha is controlling him. With her new glowy eyes, she notices the bead necklace he's wearing sparkles in a magically way. She rips it off and Fietro becomes Ralph.

Elsewhere the Visions are still battling in the sky and the boys are watching from their bedroom. They lose sight of dad, but Billy gets a vision of mom in trouble in the town square. He and Tommy run off.

The townsfolk are confused and scared. Wanda tells them they're all going to be fine. "When you let us sleep, we have your nightmares." Ouch. Wanda insists she kept them safe. Wanda, sweetie, you're very far in over your head. 

"You feel, you feel at peace," she tells them, kind of hoping that works. It doesn’t. "We feel your pain." "Your grief is poisoning us." "Please let us go." This is an awful thing to do to Wanda, Marvel!

It escalates with all those voices begging her to free them and she screams, grabbing her head, and when she does that, red light appears around the throats of the townies, silencing them, choking them. Wanda realizes and puts her glowy hands up "stop, stop, I'm sorry", releasing them all.

"If you won't let us go, let us die." Wanda promises to let them go. Agatha wonders what's stopping her from actually doing it.  

"Heroes don't torture people." Agatha's a very sink-or-swim kind of teacher.

That does the trick and Wanda throws her arms back and yells to the sky, releasing her power up at the hex surrounding the town. "Go, all of you. Now, go." The people run and the town flickers through the eras and the barrier starts to fall.

Outside, Director Dick tells his morons "this is it, we're going in!"

The Visions keep on battling, but as the barrier falls, Vision starts to falter himself. I was afraid of that.

The Morons roll in with their big trucks and big guns because … reasons. I have a very low opinion of SWORD. Maria Rambeau's agency deserves better than this shitshow.

Vision falls and it looks like bits of him are chipping off. He hits the ground hard, he gets up, but he's glitching, too, falling apart as Wanda takes down her spell. He reaches for her. The boys appear now, too, screaming for mom, but they seem to be flickering as well, flying apart in pixelly pieces. Poor Wanda.

Agatha says "Now do you see? You tied your family to this twisted world and now one can't exist without the other." This is terrible. "Save Westview or save your family." TERRIBLE.

Wanda pulls the hex into herself again, recreating the barrier. The kids and Vision recover and run to her. Outside, as the hex closes, Jimmy Woo is, yet again, left to stare at the barrier, cut off from the fun inside. Poor guy, lol. But, his FBI buddies are arriving, so at least he won't get lonely.

Agatha throws a hex at Wanda and Wanda throws up a shield to protect her family. Which Agatha starts to draw towards herself like the magic vampire she is. Greedy Agatha. Wanda's arms are all gray. And SWORD rolls into town square, because that's what this confrontation needed — these dipshits.

Anyway, the Family stands ready to face Director Dick and his morons, in a quality recreation of the Incredibles family pose. "Listen boys, your mother and I never really prepared you for this," dad says. Because your boys are like three days old, Vision, it's okay. "But you were born for it," Wanda assures them very fiercely. Get 'em, sister!  

As they square off, Vision's like "oh crap, it's the other me, back in a mo'" and flies off to tackle Not!Vision who's trying to sneak up behind them.

They destroy the town library and Vision wants to know why Not!Vision gotta be like that. "My programming directive is to destroy the Vision." 

Ha ha, says Vision, a loophole. "But, I'm not the true Vision, only a conditional Vision."

Hmmm, says Not!Vision, and they stop fighting, "I request elaboration". Hey, Vision, move into Not!Vision's body and you can be true Vision again! Problem solved, my work here is done.

Back to the street where we find Dick and his Morons and Agatha who is not making this situation at all better. The morons point their guns at Agatha who magics them up off the ground like thirty feet in the air, "Same story, different century. There will always be torches and pitchforks for ladies like us, Wanda." I'm not going to say you're wrong, Agatha, and God knows these SWORD morons are morons, but you're also a pain in the ass. So …

Anyway, then Agatha drops them and Wanda reaches out to catch them. But once caught, she does let them drop the last five or six feet. They'll be fine, but also they deserved it, so I laughed.

"Boys, handle the military. Mommy will be right back." They're my new favorite family.

Wanda flies up to tangle with Agatha and Agatha is super ready except … Wanda throws a curveball and disappears. Suck it Agatha.

Down on the ground the SWORD morons continue to cover themselves in glory and point their guns at CHILDREN. I don't care if they're powered children, you know what I'd like, I'd like if one of the morons would just be like "um, but … they're kids and how about no? I'm going to get Jimmy Woo! He'll know what to do. Don't try and stop me!" That doesn't happen.

Billy freezes the soldiers in place and Tommy super speeds by and steals their guns and hats. AD Dick, being the absolutely loathsome, vile, lower-than-a-maggot, piece of shit that he is, gets out of his humvee and shoots at the CHILDREN.

Monica, who has just arrived to the party, runs and throws herself between Dick and the boys, taking the bullets meant for them. Her new powers render her sort of … I don't even know. Not quite intangible, but she kind of looks like a ballistics gel dummy and the bullets go through her but they slow down a lot as they pass and then just sort of fall on the ground. Dick, crossing the line into pure evil, fires again, the bullet misses Monica and heads towards Billy, who just raises his hand and stops it with his power then he grins at Monica.

"Nice tricks," she tells him.

"I like yours, too," he says.

Dick tries to fire AGAIN! But he's out of bullets. He only had four? Or maybe his gun jammed. Anyway, like the brave man he is, he runs to the humvee, gets in, reverses at speed, stops and looks like he's going to put it in gear and drive at them because the dude is unhinged. But! Lo! It's Darcy and the funnel cake truck, that is apparently built like a tank, though come to think of it, it probably was an armored vehicle in the real world.

Anyway, she t-bones Dick's vehicle, thwarting his evility for the moment. "Have fun in prison." Lol

Back to the Visions. They're having a philosophical debate. "You are familiar with the thought experiment "The Ship of Theseus" in the field of identity metaphysics," Vision prompts Not!Vision.

  "Naturally." And Not!Vision helpfully spells it out for us. "The ship of Theseus is in a museum. Over time its planks of wood rot and are replaced with new planks. When no original planks remain, is it still the ship of Theseus?"

  Vision presses his advantage, "Secondly. If those removed planks are restored and reassembled, free of the rot, is that the ship of Theseus?"

To sum up, neither is the true Vision, both are the true Vision.

"But I do not have the mind stone," says not!Vision.

  "And I do not have one single ounce of original material," replies Vision. "Perhaps the rot is the memories. The wear and tear are the voyages. The wood touched by Theseus himself."

Not!Vision says he doesn't have the memories, though, but Vision insists he does, the data is still there, hidden. Not!Vision says nah, Vision must be the true Vision because he believes himself to be. But, Vision says that's not true anymore, he plays the reverse card, "upon meeting you, I have been disabused of that notion." This is the most philosophy nerd game of 'not it' ever.

Vision continues to try to get at Not!Vision's memories. "As a carbon-based synthazoid, your memory storage is not so easily wiped. May I?" Not!Vision allows Vision to touch the glowy bit where the memory stone used to be, and Not!Vision is flooded with Vision's memories. Not!Vision's eyes go … normal, I guess you'd say, no longer robot-like and glowy.

"I am Vision" he says and flies off. It was a lot to take in, I guess. He needs a little me-time.

I guess we're going to have to go back to calling Vision Sitcom!Vision, anyway, he goes outside and the boys run over to him and there's hugging and stuff.

Agatha stalks them from the rooftop, but it seems she might have forgotten Wanda for a second, because Wanda appears behind her and does that thing she does where she makes you see your worst fear. Enjoy that, Agatha!

Agatha sees herself bound to the stake in the woods again. Her coven dead. Wanda is there in the vision, too. "You see the difference between you and me, is that you did this on purpose."

The coven rise from the dead and shuffle to her while Agatha begs for it to stop. But, then Agatha gets control of herself, I guess, and the undead mummy witches start saying Wanda's name and pointing at her. You're just no fun at all, Agatha.

Now the coven ties Wanda to the stake. "You can't win, Wanda. Power isn't your problem; it's knowledge." That is, actually, very true. Wanda's Scarlet Witch headpiece appears on her all magical-like, marking her as the Scarlet Witch of myth, I suppose.

"Give me your power, and I will correct the flaws in your original spell. And you and your family and the people of Westview can all live together in peace."

If Agatha is so smart, why doesn't she just take Wanda's power, hmm?

"And no one will ever have to feel this pain again. Not even you," Agatha tries cajoling, but that was the wrong tack to take. Wanda gives her the head tilt of imminent ass-kicking, and her powers explode outward, flinging way the weird creepy coven of zombie mummies. Then Wanda knocks them both back into Westview.

She starts hammering Agatha with her powers. "Take it, I don't want it." Vision tries to fly up to help her, but she blocks him with a spell.

Witch fight in the clouds. Every time Wanda misses Agatha, her hexes hit the shield. Outside Jimmy Woo looks on, concerned.

"There's more," Agatha says, "I want it all." Wanda's looking a little mummified, but she's still flinging hexes left and right while Agatha cackles evilly. Eventually Wanda runs out of steam and just sort of hovers there.

"About our deal. Once case, a spell can never be changed." You're terrible, Agatha. Very cruel. "This world will always be broken. Just. Like. You." Low, Agatha. Lower than dirt

Agatha gathers herself and tries to hit out at Wanda with all that yummy power but it just fizzles. Nothing happens. Oh noes, Agatha, what's wrong?

Wanda starts looking like her normal self again and behind her glows a giant rune. Oh, dear, Agatha, you taught Wanda something. When she was missing Agatha and hitting the shield all those times, she was actually casting runes. LOL to you.

The sky is angry and red and stormy. Monica, Vision, and the boys look on.

"In a given space," Wanda says, "only the witch who cast them [runes] can use her magic. Thanks for the lesson, but, I don't need you to tell me who I am."

 The Scarlet Witch headpiece reappears and now Agatha has her a fright. I like you Agatha, you're rotten in fun way, but you took it too far, sister. Wanda takes her power back with prejudice and she is transformed into the Scarlet Witch. Updated version of the classic costume. Nice, I like it.

"Oh god," Agatha gasps, "You don't know what you've done." Wanda drops her on the ground more gently than she deserved.

Agatha asks if Wanda's going to lock her up somewhere. And Wanda says, yeah, here in lovely Westview. "I'll give you the role you chose; the nosy neighbor."

"You have no idea what you've unleashed. You're gonna need me." "If I do, I know where to find you." lol

And Wanda turns Agatha back into Agnes. "Hiya, hon. Say, that some kind of getup you're wearing. Did I leave the oven on, or is that just you, hot stuff."

Wanda says goodbye and walks over to her family, kissing her boys.

Vision says their dream home has turned into a fixer-upper. "I know you'll set everything right. Just not for us."

"No," Wanda agrees because Marvel likes to hurt us all. "Not for us."

Monica kind of bounces on her toes, trying to get Wanda's attention, but probably also not entirely wanting Wanda's attention. Wanda gives her a hesitant nod as she and Vision leave with the boys.

The field around town starts to shrink, the circus turns back into the SWORD base.

They get home and tuck the boys into bed.

"Big day today," Vision says. "Your mother and I … are very proud of you both."

"Very proud," Wanda agrees. "You know, a family is forever. We could never truly leave each other, even if we tried. You know that right?"

They kiss their boys goodnight. Outside the window, the field flickers and fails. "Boys, thanks for choosing me to be your mom."

The town of Westview returns to its sad old self, street by street. Wanda turns out the lights in their home.

But, Vision turns one back on. "Oh, I read somewhere, that it's bad luck to say goodbye in the dark." "No, you didn't." You guys are killing me.

Why did this have to be so good and sad?

And finally the collapsing field reaches their street, they watch it coming. 

"Wanda, I know we can't stay like this, but before I go, I feel I must know, what am I?"

She touches his face. "You, Vision, are the piece of the mind stone that lives in me. You are a body of wires and blood and bone that I created. You are my sadness and my hope, but mostly you're my love." Stupid show, my screen went blurry there for a second.

Vision cries a bit, they both are a little astonished by the tear. 

"I have been a voice with no body, a body but not human. And now, a memory, made real. Who knows what I might be next." Aww, Vision, I love you.

Here comes the field.

"We have said goodbye before, so it stands to reason—" "We'll say hello again." STUPID SHOW why do you have to make me feel things?

The field collapses and everything is stripped back into nothing. "So long, darling." And Wanda stands in the empty lot, in the foundations of the home that never was.

She walks away again. Poor Wanda. And back into town. The people look at her, they don't seem happy. I don't know why she chose to do that, she does have a car. Ah, she's going to talk to Monica.

"They'll never know what you sacrificed for them," Monica says. "It wouldn't change how they see me," Wanda tells her. "And you? You don't … you don't hate me?" "Given the chance, and given your power, I'd bring my mom back. You know I would." "I'm sorry, for all the pain I caused."

Wanda promises to figure out her power and then files off. The End.

Heartbreaking. Good, but heartbreaking.

Mid-credits scene. Jimmy Woo is large and in charge. He's setting up the incident response in town, ordering folks around (in his good natured way).

Jimmy spots his friend. "Monica!" "Authority looks good on you, Jimmy." "Where's Darcy?" "Something about ‘debriefs are for the weak’?" lol "But we can thank her for that." 

And down the street AD Dick is being arrested. Nobody punched him in the face. I'm sad. Darcy came closest, I guess. What with hitting him with the very large truck. It will have to do.

Monica is summoned to the theater by another agent. Hmm nobody there. The agent follows. "I was sent by an old friend of your mother's." And the agent is a Skrull. "He heard you'd been grounded. He'd like to meet with you."

"Where?"

The Skrull points up. 

What was Fury's Skrull buddy's name? I don't recall. I didn't actually like the Captain Marvel movie. I felt like they told it backwards, and also they should have just cast a younger actor to play young Nick Fury. That bugged me. And I wanted more of Annette Benning’s character. Anyway … I guess we know where we’ll see Monica again. 

Well, that was fun. Like I said, I'm not sure what I expected from this series, just that it be some degree of fun, I guess. But it was much better than whatever I had half-envisaged. AND SADDER, MARVEL.

Thank goodness for the multi-verse. I'm sure we'll see some version of the boys again. And also Not!Vision, who is probably also Vision at this point, knocking around the world, trying to find himself. Talk about identity crisis. I feel you, brother. Stay safe, get plenty of whatever passes for rest for you!

See you guys in a couple of weeks for Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I WANT NO TEARS FROM THAT ONE! Unless it's tears of laughter. 

ETA: FOR THE SECOND POST CREDITS SCENE THAT I MISSED. Stupid Marvel hiding things from me. Thank you, @beelzebufo

Mountains, a mountain lake, a place I’d like to be right now. Wanda sits on the porch of her lonely little cabin. The tea kettle whistles and she goes inside. There’s a rattling and whispering from the other room, where the astral projection(?) of the Scarlet Witch reads the Darkhold and her children call for her. I don’t know, Wanda, seems dicey, that’s not a very nice book. 

FOR REAL THE END THIS TIME

[xmalereader]

Billy Hargrove X Male Reader

|| THREE ||

-

|| Masterlist ||

|ONE — TWO — THREE

-

Summary: Reader is new to Hawkins, his parents had just moved into the new house and are trying to start over from there old lives. But what if reader can’t? He’s still a messed up kid who’s tired of pretending to be happy...and that damn mullet head of a ghost won’t stop following him around!!

Warnings: PTSD, Langauge, OCD TRIGGERING, Reader wants to know why he can touch billy!

—

Tags; @daybreakmistakes @spnfanboy777 @cypherthetransmasc @kingreidx

—

He was bouncing his leg up and down as he sat on his bed facing his door, staring at a few notes that he had taped onto his door.

“Okay!” He throws his hands in the air and shot up from his bed. “So far, we know that ghosts only wonder around when they have unfinished business, so do you have any unfinished business?” He asks, turning around to face billy who sat on his bed, staring at him.

“Not really no.”

Y/ns frown deeps as he spins around and uncaps his red sharpie, crossing out the first option or idea that he had. “Okay, next we have objects.” He says, pointing at one of his notes. “Is there an special object of yours that someone could’ve taken from you?” He holds his sharpie out to the other option was he waits for a response. “No.” He hears again, as he crosses it out he stops mid way, “wait what about your camero? You told me that was your baby or something.” He shurgs as billy rolls his eyes and sits back on the bed. “My dad only gave me that camero to keep my mouth shut whenever I had to deal with Maxine, it wasn’t anything special.” He explains with a shrug as well.

Y/n can only frown as the explanation, Turing back to his door as he crosses out the information. “Well, I have nothing else...Whatever it is that’s keeping you here—“ he’s startled by his bedroom door being slammed open, causing the door to hit him in the face as he grunts. “Hey!” He winces out and rubs his head, looking up to see his own mother looking down at him. “Sorry sweety, but I heard you spreaking to yourself again.” She says as she looks over y/n’s shoulder to see his room floor covered in papers. “What are you doing?”

“Smoking weed.” He blurts out randomly as his mother glares at him.

“Where do you expect me to get that stuff?” He adds with a bit of sarcasm and steps back, stilling wincing at the pain as he rubs his head again. He hears his mother sign in disappointment. “Anyways, I just came up here to remind you to take your meds, you know that your father can’t sleep well with all of your mumbling and talking in the middle of the night.” She sneers out as y/n narrows his eyes, before giving her a wide and fake smile. “Yes, ma’am.” He says through gritted teeth as he watches her slam his door shut and leave back to the living room.

“Your mom may be the hottest women, I’ve ever hated.” He hears billy say behind him as y/n grumbles and bends down to pick up his mess., “shes a real piece of work.” Said y/n, setting his papers on his desk as he looks over to see the orange bottle filled with pills, he stares at it for awhile before reaching over to take it and popping it open. “Are you really going to take them?”

He stares inside the bottles and scoffs. “No.” He walks over to the trash and empties the bottle, watching the pills fall into the bin as he feels the bottle become lighter. Once the bottle was empty he puts the lid back on and tosses the bottle onto his desk. “They don’t even work, they think that ill become less crazy but in reality they only make me sick.” He walks around his room, picking up his mess as billy watches from his bed. “This mental illness of yours—“

“I’m not mentally ill.” Y/n snaps back with a glare.

“Then what are you?” Billy moves over to sit at the edge of the bed, crossing his arms over his chest as he tilts his head to the side. “I’m—i’m different than anyone else, I see things that no one else can and I sometime feel things too and just recently I discovered something that must’ve happened back in that mall that you don’t want to tell me.” He exclaims, gripping the sheets of paper as he spoke. “Mentally ill isnt really a good way to describe me...” he stands up and thinks, smirking a little as he chuckles. “Just call me crazy.”

“I don’t think your crazy you’re just weird.” Billy began to follow him around this time as y/n grabs a shopping bag that contained brand new shoes that he bought a couple of days ago. Billy watches him as he takes out the shoes and hums to hismelf, seeing as the other male began to replace the shoe laces. “What are you doing?” He asks in curiosity as y/n grins evilly as billy and tosses the shoe laces behind him.

“Making myself comfortable.” Said y/n as he opens up a drawer in his desk and takes out—

“Zip ties?” Billy rasies a brow.

“Mhm!” The other hums out as he puts his shoes on and uses the zip ties as shoe laces. “You are officially crazy.” Says Billy as y/n finishes adjusting his own shoes. “Okay so you use zip ties as shoe laces and now what? You pour the milk first before your cereal too?”

Y/n stays seated on the floor, slowly lifting his head up to give billy an innocent look. “Is that really bad?”

Billy’s eyes widen. “What is the matter with you?!”

He can only shrug In response as he walks over to his closet to grab a jacket.

“That is like—a sin to humanity!” Billy continues to blow up as y/n sighs annoyingly.

“Billy, sweetheart, the love of my life,” y/n says in a sweet and sarcastic voice as he turns to face him. “I’m case your haven’t notice but no human really likes people like me.” He reminds him for the millionth time before giving him a quick smile and dropping it. He grabs his Walkman and headphones, “come on.” He gestures towards the window.

“Where are going?” Billy follows him towards the window as y/n slides it open, he puts his headphones on first and then starts to play one of his favorites  cassettes’, ignoring bully’s question as he simply allows himself to get lost in the music.

I feel your heart

It's beating time with mine

But love love love is on the line

Y/n steps onto the roof as he sings along to the music.

He holds you down

But I know you want to run

You're hot hot loaded like a gun

He walks towards the nearest tree that he uses to climb down, using it to escape his horrible parents and his dumbass life. As he reaches out to grip one of the branches he sharply turns around to face billy who stops in his track to chuckle at him.

Oh you feel so trapped and confused

Start with nothing and you've got nothing to lose

“—you’ve gotta nothing to lose!!” Billy hears him sing out as he begins to dance to the music, throwing his head around crazily.

You can never never never ever hide your heart

Don't you ever ever ever ever try

If you don't give your heart wings you'll

Never never never ever fly

Y/n continues dance as he jumps down onto the tree and begins to climb down while billy only watches him go crazy to the music under the moonlight.

Break down the walls

You've got to cut the ties

There's pain pain burning in your eyes

Billy can’t help but smile at this strange teenager, he’s seen many weird teens back in high school but this one, this one was different. Y/n was free spirited and he didn’t care about what others thought of him—I mean yes, he is crazy and does so many things incorrectly but somehow Billy enjoys this unique thing about him. He thinks that the most unique thing about y/n is that he can see him and that made him feel whole. He used to be so alone and now he has someone.

It's time for tearing free

Oh come come running straight to me

Oh you know he don't love you like I do

Don't make believe that you don't feel it too

You can never never never ever hide your heart

Don't you ever ever ever ever try oh no

As y/n contiunes to sing out loudly he notices that they are heading towards the woods, following each other around as y/n spins in circles and makes weird hand gestures towards the sky.

If you don't give your heart wings you'll

Never never never ever fly

You never fly, if you want you can fly

At one point he feels y/n graze his fingers against his Billy’s cheek, causing him to gasp in surprise. Still getting used to the feeling of y/n being able to touch him. He sends him a small smile as y/n laughs at him and skips away, hopping to the tune as they mysteriously make there way back to star court.

“Why are we back here?” Asks billy as y/n takes off his headphones and turns off his Walkman. “We came here to look for some answers to our questions, pretty boy.” He winks at Billy before chuckling. Billy shakes his head as he stands in front of him, “you are not going back in there, you can get caught again and this time you’ll be getting it on your criminal record.” Y/n frowns at Billy’s words but the dead man was right. He could get caught again if he were to trespass once more.

But he can’t just give up, not like this.

“Not until I find something that explains everything about this!” He is quick to say as he runs towards the fence and jumps over, quickly he runs towards the opened hole on the door and crawls in.

“Y/n!” Billy hisses out as he reaches out to grab his arm. “You don’t even have a flashlight!”

“Don’t worry I memorized the place, I don’t need a flashlight to see in the dark.” He whispers out as he quietly makes his way around the ruined mall, making small turns as he finds the back door that billy had guided him through. “I saw something here that caught my attention.” He whispers, finding the entrance to a downstairs.

He grins to hismelf as he steps forward but is quickly pulled away by billy. “What the hell?!”

“I’m going first in case anything bad is down there.” Said billy, giving him a stern look as he goes in first. Y/n rolls his eyes and with a pout on his face he follows close behind billy.

The two male there way downstairs and through the tunnels, y/n walks next to billy as he grips Billy’s arm, not wanting to get lost in the dark or trip over something that’ll make him easily fight it or get hurt. “What the hell is this place?” He hears billy whisper out as y/n frowns.

“The mall?” He rasies a brow at his own answer, confused by everything as well as the two walk further, billy is the first to notice a light in the distance. “I think someone is here.” He’s quick to push y/n behind a wall as the two stay hidden, “Wait why are you hiding? You’re dead.” Said y/n as he turns to billy to see him shrug. “Sorry, I guess with you being able to see me and touch me makes me feel alive again.” He responds back, causing y/n to smile softly at the thought of billy feeling alive. “Maybe you are alive, but to me.” He adds quietly as he walks past billy and heads towards the light, ignoring Billy’s shouts as he makes his way towards the open room.

He peaks inside to see a couple of men talking amongst each other.

“Ворота в последнее время действуют, что-то требует, но мы не можем найти источник

Vorota v posledneye vremya deystvuyut, chto-to trebuyet, no my ne mozhem nayti.”

Y/n stays hidden behind the wall as he listens to the strangers speak to each other. “Russian...” he whispers out. “There speaking Russian.” He says to himself as he tries to remember his Russian learning from his grandmother before she died.

“The gate has been acting up lately, something is calling out too it but we don’t know where the source is coming from.”

He’s able to translate back to himself as he hears billy shift next to him. “You can understand them?”

“My grandmother used to speak Russian, as I grew up she taught me the language. One of my most successful moments in life.” He explains to billy, keeping a close eye on the Russians as they mumble to each other before they decided to walk away, heading towards a different room that lead them far away from y/n and billy.

“Lets go.” He’s crouched down as he walks past the room full of Russians, heading up a pair of stairs as he looks over his shoulder to make sure that they weren’t being followed. “You have to be careful y/n, we could’ve been caught and this time you’d be in deep sh—“

Y/n wasn’t listening to billy, he was zoning out his voice as he looks up ahead to see a strange glowing line that kind of looked like a crack of light, it wasn’t a wall and it was moving. Yes, it was defiantly moving. He steps closer, reaching the edge of the the railing as he lifts a hand up to try and reach out for it.

“Hey!” He gasps in shock as billy grabs his wrist, pulling him away. “You’re too close to the edge you dumbass!” He hisses out in anger as y/n shakes his head. “Sorry I just—I feel like...” he was feeling lightheaded and was stumbling backwards, lucky fo him billy was there to catch him in time before he could fall back. “Y/n?!” Billys voice is faint, sounding like he was far away as his vision begins to darken.

“You are the one.”

“They think your special.”

“He was able to open and close it all on his own! He’s too powerful!”

“He’s still a child!”

“Then we keep him locked away, far away from everything!”

“We all hate you.”

“Do you want to know why they call you One? Becuase your their number one prized possession!”

“You’re the one.”

He gasps awake, quickly turning to his side as he throws up his dinner. Coughing and panting as he wipes his mouth clean and slowly begins to sit up, he touches his surroundings to find himself still inside the mall and underground. “What—“

“Your awake.” He’s startled by Billy’s voice, Turing around to see him sitting across for him. “How long—“

“Three hours.”

“What—? Three—“ He was panting heavily again.

Three hours? But, it only felt like a couple of seconds to him. Everything just came rushing towards him, he remembers hearing the voices and the shouting. He remembers seeing white coats and children that were younger then him, younger by a couple of years. He could still hear his own screaming, wait—Wait was he screaming?

Y/n lifts his head up and places a hand on his temples. “Billy...” he murmurs out. “What’s happening to me?” For the first time in his life he was scared and confused. “Why am I seeing this stuff? Why do I keep getting these visions and why do I feel so lost? I feel like something is missing inside of me.” He croaks out in fright, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill out. “Billy.”

Billy was staring at y/n with a sympathy look in his eyes as the two made eye contact. “What’s wrong with me?”

[byrachel]

QUIL ATEARA BROKEN PROMISE |part one

word count: 1475

summary: after (y/n) was abandoned by all three of her friends, quil tries to win his best friend back by showing her the truth 

warnings: some angst??

note: I know this was totally not what you wanted so I will make it up by making a fluffy part two and work on the other requested imagine! Thank you for being so patient!

Once Quil was in her room, she asked herself why she let him in. He cut his hair, got a tattoo and was walking around without his shirt like Sam’s gang, like he would call them. She laughed ironically as she remembered how distraught he was when Embry and Jacob had left them to join him as well. He became exactly what he hated. 

She let herself fall onto her bed, trying to comprehend what happened to the boy she used to call her best friend. Quil watched her hopelessly and decided to keep silent, not yet knowing what to tell her. He knew it wasn’t likely she would welcome him with open arms, he was lucky he let her in at all. 

As tears blurred her vision, she took the glasses resting on the bridge of nose off her face. She tried to hold up the cold-hearted act, but it only took seconds for it to break, tears burning into her skin as she silently cried. She hid her face in her hands, hoping she would wake up from the awful nightmare she was having.

With an aching heart and a pained expression on his face, Quil slowly walked up to (Y/N). He kneeled down in front of her, getting to her eye level. “I’m sorry.” Were his first words to her in months, whispering in the most apologetic tone. “I’m really sorry, (Y/N).”

“I just don’t get what happened.” She said through her sobs, pulling her hands away from her face. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” He explained meeting her red, puffy eyes. It took everything in him to not wrap his arms around her to comfort her. He hated he was the reason for the pain she was experiencing. “I wish it was different, but I can’t walk away from this.”

The sadness in her eyes shifted to anger in a split second. He chose to be with Sam and his friends over her and their friendship of over a decade. “You can’t walk away from Sam, but you can walk away from me?”

“No, (Y/N), that’s not it at all.” He sighed, regretting the way he chose to word what he was actually trying to say. He was doing more harm than good. “I know it sounds like I’m probably just making excuses, but it was for your safety.”

“That’s your explanation for disappearing for almost two months?” She furrowed her eyebrows angrily at the most cliché excuse she had ever heard, sniffling between her words. “You could’ve called and told me you just needed some space or something.”

“I should’ve called and I can’t tell you enough how much regret not doing that.” He spoke softly. “Just let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything.”

“What could make this okay, Quil?” She sniffled once again, looking down at the floor. “First Embry, then Jacob and now you. You guys are the only friends I had and you dropped me like I was nothing. Do you know how worthless that made me feel?”

By then Quil knew nothing else could fix how she felt, except the truth. He had to tell her what had not only happened to him, but the others as well. He knew that sooner or later he had to tell her, because of their bond but he didn’t want it to be this soon. He had no idea how she would react. Just telling her would make him seem crazy and that was exactly how he felt when he shifted for the first time. It was like a crazy fever dream.

“If I told you that what I’m about to show you will explain everything, will you come with me?” He asked her. 

It fell quiet between them for a moment. (Y/N) was trying to figure out what it could be, because she didn’t want to waste her time on his lies any longer. “What is it?” 

“I have to show you, otherwise you won’t believe me.” He explained. “But you need to come with me.”

“I can’t just leave right now. It’s bad enough I let you sneak in.” She dried her tears with her sleeve, sighing annoyed at his stupid idea. He knew how strict her parents were. The only reason they were allowed to be friends was because her dad always went fishing with Billy and Quil’s grandad. 

“What about tomorrow morning before school?” He suggested with a hopeful voice, because she was clearly considering it.

She bit her lip briefly, but thinking about it she knew she really had nothing to lose. It was either losing him again or him showing a legitimate reason. She had already gotten used to her life without the boys, despite being hurt it wasn’t like she couldn’t continue with her life. It was just dull without them. 

She softly shrugged her shoulders, agreeing to meet up with him. “What time?”

“Six thirty.” He smiled softly. He could feel his heart raise from excitement. This was the chance to win his best friend back. She wasn’t fond of giving second chances, but her giving him one meant there was still hope.

The following morning (Y/N) was up much earlier than usual. She was so curious to find out what Quil wanted to show her, but no logical explanation popped up into her head and it had kept her up all night. Yawns passed her lips as she put on her clothes and keeping her eyes open felt like a chore, but just like she had promised she was standing outside of her house at 6:30.

Quil was already on her front porch with a nervous smile. (Y/N) walked up to him as she closed her coat, feeling the cold morning wind stroke against her skin. She was kind of amazed how he was walking around like he couldn’t catch a pneumonia without proper clothing on, but she decided not to comment on it. 

“So what did you want to show me?” 

“Just come with me.”

She followed him into the forest, the scenery reminding her of every horror movie about teenagers camping in the woods and getting killed one by one. She could feel shivers go down her spine and suddenly regretted thinking about it, not knowing what she was getting herself into. 

Quil stopped in his tracks, turning around to her. (Y/N) was looking around her to find anything that stood out as she stopped walking herself, but didn’t see anything. “Is this the part where you kill me?” She sarcastically commented, her eyes shifting between the tall trees and greenery around her.

Quil snickered and shook his head. “No, but I need you to turn around.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but wasn’t in the mood to argue, just doing what he said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are just gonna stay vague about it?”

Keeping her eyes on the horizon which was barely visible through the leaves, she waited patiently while listening to what Quil was doing behind her. She could hear some shifting and zipper going down, almost turning around to see what he was doing. She stopped herself, blood immediately rushing to her cheeks as she tried to cover up her actions by shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Is he undressing himself? She thought to herself. 

“Remember the legends my dad used to tell us? Some ancestors of the Quileute tribe were able to shape shift and protected their people from the cold ones?” She could hear his shorts fall to the ground, but was more focused on what he was telling her than whatever he was doing. She heard him backing up even further away from her. “They aren’t just legends, but I knew you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you so I’m going to show you.”

“Show me?” (Y/N) raised her eyebrows in confusion. 

Aggressive cracking and shifting filled her ears, making eyes widen and move further away from Quil before she quickly turned around to see what was happening. Her shaking legs were barely enough to keep her standing as she looked up into the eyes dark grey furred wolf. 

She fell back onto her back, a high pitched squeal leaving her lips as she held her arms in front of her to shield herself from the big creature towering over her. Her heart was in her throat as she was bracing herself to be eaten alive. When nothing happened she carefully lowered her arm down to see what it was doing.

He had lied down in front of her, not doing anything but breathing heavily and staring back at her. Those familiar dark brown eyes were staring back at her. 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened once again as she leaned towards him. “Quil?”

masterlist | part two | edited

tagged: requested by @midnightcoldrain

[pondermoniums]

A little post season 3 ficlet (2749 words) featuring some holiday fluff <3 See tags or read on ao3 here ~

• • • •

Billy still feels it. He wishes his muscle memory had died with him, but it just came back with him too.

The things he felt.

The things It felt.

Everything It made him do.

His psychiatrist tries to tell him that his scars are his body claiming his soul back. Billy couldn’t agree. He didn’t like touching the starbursts on his torso because the shiny scar flesh felt tissue-paper thin—not to his fingertips, but underneath. His heart trembled as if he could just push a little too hard, and enter his ribs—

“Hey, the new place opened up off Main Street. You know those new roads they’re building? There’s already a Greek place there. Let’s get a menu.”

Billy frowned at him. Steve Harrington. He’d been at the mall. Billy didn’t remember seeing him…during…but afterward. In the spotty shreds of memory that were all his own, he remembered Steve looking nearly as bad as he felt. The memories swirled together like a circus dream. Steve and…Robin. Her name is Robin…in striped costumes. Steve carried Max away from his body. Robin practically did the same for the girl with a number for a name. All of them glowed with Starcourt neon pink and purple and red.

Steve’s car hummed around them, and fell silent when he turned onto the fresh asphalt of Hawkins’ new road. Steve laughed a little. “Farmer Higgins is probably still fuming. Last thing the mayor did before he got booted out of here was steal land for these businesses.”

“What’s it matter?” Billy exhaled. There were less people in Hawkins to fuel the shady economy anyway.

“Well I can’t speak for your Camaro, but my car doesn’t last long, driving brodies with trees in the way.”

His little sapphire. A dark mixture of humor and apathy seeped into his blood at the memory of Steve Harrington, of all people, slamming into him. He didn’t do it hard enough.

Now he sat in the car Steve drove. Not because the Camaro couldn’t be fixed, but because Billy wasn’t fit to drive yet. Maybe there was something full-circle about it. Or a broken circle; an open-ended thing, like Billy.

“As if you could do a brody.”

Steve smirked. “Thankfully I’ve ruined enough fields for practice.”

And then he pulled right off the road, slipped through a tiny thicket of trees framing the road, and burst upon a dry, yellow field. He turned sharply, throwing Billy against him…until the car locked into a paradox of calm and chaos. The back wheels revolved around them to dig a doughnut in the earth. Steve let the wheel go, and they rocked as the car jerked with the front tires straightening.

Steve looked around them to find the road again and made a mock sound of getting sick. “Glad we didn’t eat first.”

He grinned at Billy, making him realize a smile had stuck on his face like a cramped muscle. He pushed a hand over his mouth, physically melting it off.

The food was good. The flavors shoved their way over his pallet. It was kind of hard to enjoy food now. He ate when his body needed it but he didn’t get the emotional reaction to it—

“I didn’t know we had Greeks in Hawkins,” Steve conversed openly. A small, lost part of Billy remembered Steve calling him out for being mouthy during basketball, but Steve could talk. He wiped his mouth and dug back into his rice plate. “Then again, Robin and Dustin always have something to say about authenticity. Like you spend a day outside of Indiana and you’re worldly.”

“Did you forget where I’m from?” Billy spoke before he meant to. California didn’t seem to matter much any—

“Did you?” Steve tossed back.

Silence fell over their booth while Steve waited. Then he went back to his food when Billy clearly didn’t care about responding.

Over and over again.

Steve picked Billy up.

Hospital.

Food.

Back to Cherry Lane.

Steve talked. Sometimes Billy replied.

Then things began to change. Steve took Billy to the grocery store after Billy’s therapy. Billy had emerged ruddy-eyed liked he smoked a pound of weed, and Steve had merely said, “I’m feeling tacos.”

Only instead of a restaurant, he took them to the store. And then the Harrington house. Billy talked more there.

“No, no, it’s queso fresco.”

“It’s just cheese, though?”

“Jesus, it’s like I’m the one who grew up with farmers. Different rain waters different grass. That makes different cows, which make different milk. Do you know anything about breweries?”

“Do you?” Steve challenged while they made a mess of his kitchen counter. Crumbles of white cheese, lettuce, and other tacos toppings littered the fancy granite.

“I know that breweries stay put. Because the water’s different. They have to have the right water to make the right beer. I haven’t had my favorite lager since I moved here.”

“What’s it taste like?”

Billy told him. Billy told him a lot of things. Steve just…got a rise out of him the way his therapist couldn’t. Then again, Steve never asked about all the things Billy wanted to burn out of his brain.

Then Cherry Lane fell off the list. Billy couldn’t say how exactly he moved into Harrington’s house. Maybe the food flowed into Billy falling asleep, and starting the next day from Steve’s house just happened too many times. Maybe Max used Steve’s pool too many times. Maybe it was when Billy realized Steve wasn’t just driving him to his physical and mental therapy sessions.

He walked out of the physical therapy gym at the back of the hospital to meet Steve in the same lobby they parted ways in. But Steve wasn’t there. Billy asked the nearby receptionist if “the guy with the hair” had gotten lost to the bathroom, but she only replied, “He’s running a little overtime, but he should be on his way.”

Billy’s appointments took hours. It made sense for Steve to leave and come back—

But the elevator dinged, and Steve was too busy reading something to not walk into a passing nurse. “Oh! Ow—sorry! Sorry,” he exclaimed, holding his arm…

He rolled the shoulder of that arm on the way through the parking lot, swinging the arm round and around like he was warming up for tennis. Inside the car, Billy cornered, “What were you doing in there?”

Steve glanced at him but shrugged as he turned the ignition. “Blood work. An IV drip. MRI’s. My usual stuff. The drip took longer this time.”

“Usual stuff? How come I’m just now hearing of this?”

“Remember, Robin used to meet us here? She got cleared faster.”

“Cleared out of what? How are you more broken than she was?”

Steve stared at him for an unnerving minute. “They…kind of beat the shit out of me. So… I mean, you pack a wallop, but Russians with an agenda put you to shame.”

Billy suddenly wondered if he’d overstepped a boundary. Steve just talked so much, and took whatever Billy gave him without flinching that he never considered…

“Getting concussed and doped up with unknown chemicals isn’t everyone’s normal Thursday.”

Billy had forgotten that Steve had been through shit like this before. Not with the same variables, but… “I forget that your normal got thrown out the window before I got here.”

“It’s not a competition,” Steve tried to say lightly. He waved a hand in front of the vents as if their lingering in the parking lot was just to wait for the heating to kick on.

“And if it is, who’d win?”

“Oh, I think Will Byers has us beat.”

That…hit differently than Billy expected. A laugh burst out of him, like it had just been waiting for a weight to lift off of him to break free. “Yeah. Maybe he does.”

Then they went to Steve’s house, where more and more of Billy’s clothes had accumulated. The kitchen had been stocked with food bought from Steve’s wage and Billy’s top-secret government allowance—which turns out, was rather high. Steve, for all his fancy furniture and basically bottomless bank account thanks to his parents, had to pick his jaw up off the floor when Billy finally revealed the monthly check to him.

“Holy shit. Don’t let the nerds see that; they’ll siphon quarters out of you for the arcade.”

“They’re old enough to want beer and condoms.”

Steve scoffed as he flipped their dinner pancakes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think they’ll sooner pop their cherries than go for beer.” Then he grimaced and waved his spatula. “New subject! Change the subject.”

Billy laughed from the breakfast bar, where he was arranging his medication into a days-of-the-week organizer. It was just a bar of little snap-closed boxes, but it helped him keep track of the pills he took—and the ones he ignored.

Steve had asked him once, “Why do you always leave the red ones?”

“They turn me into a vegetable.”

“Oh. You can’t, like…split it in half? Half vegetable?”

Billy couldn’t say why he felt comforted by Steve’s uniquely clueless way of thinking. Perhaps the guy actually made sense, or maybe he just over-simplified things in an over-complicated world.

Now, though, he set the spatula down with the announcement, “Oh! I got you something. Well, I hope I got the right stuff.”

Billy didn’t go with him to the garage, but he did follow Steve with his eyes. Blue irises locked onto the shockingly familiar box of lager when Steve returned. “Where in the hell did you find that?”

That dopey, thrilled grin made Steve glow like the Christmas lights they’d thrown all over the open floor plan. “Dude, there are professional shoppers! I mean, that makes each can like…a twenty-dollar beer, and this is the only box I got, but this is the stuff you were talking about, right? The lady on the phone said they released other flavors, but you only said ‘lager,’ so it’s what I got.”

The cans were practically frozen from being in the garage, but Billy tore open the box as well as he could to pry one out. “I don’t think I’ve been given the okay for alcohol.”

“We can water it down.”

“You don’t water down beer!”

“Then split one with me. I’ve chilled glasses somewhere…”

He went digging in the freezer drawer and pulled out plastic wine glasses. Billy snorted as he accepted one. “This is so cheap.”

“Yeah well, even mom’s fancy bimbo friends break wine stems around the pool. Gimme that.”

Billy appreciated that Steve made it sound greedy, instead of pitiful. Billy had trouble with his hands.

The can snapped open with a satisfying metallic crack. Billy teased as Steve poured, “Is this your first rodeo? Look at all that foam.”

“We’ve got time. The pancakes are almost done.”

Billy pushed his pill organizer aside to rest his chin on his arms, listening to carbonation sizzle while he watched Steve’s shoulder blades move under his sweatshirt.

“When do you get cleared for pot?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be officially cleared for that—hey, hey!”

Steve had turned around, leaning back against the counter with a pancake in his hand and a full cheek. “Whuh?”

“You’re eating my dinner! Dump the skillet over a plate and get over here!”

Steve came around to sit on the stool next to him with a pancake in his mouth and—

“Are those my slippers?”

“You mean my slippers that I hadn’t worn yet? Yeah, I took them back,” Steve retorted.

Billy successfully knocked one off his foot. “They still had the tags when I got to them. So dibs.”

Steve kicked the other slipper into the living room. “No dibs if you don’t have both.”

“You’re wearing my sweatpants. I get your slippers.”

“I get your beer and you get my pancakes.”

“Not if you eat all of them! Syrup, now,” Billy demanded with a grabby hand gesture.

Steve disintegrated into giggles that made him sound as much like a little kid as movie heartthrob. He finished pouring and passed the bottle.

So it went. Back and forth. Back and forth.

First Steve took Billy’s time. The minutes that built into hours driving to and from the hospital. Then Billy ate his food. Steve covered the restaurant tabs until they switched to cooking at his house. Steve washed his clothes and wore them like his own. Billy took Steve’s car keys and drove for the first time with Steve practically hostage all the way to the tree farm.

“I didn’t take you for a real tree kind of person.”

“You have the ceiling space for a nine-foot tree.”

“How the hell are we hauling a nine-foot tree?” Steve practically blanched. “And with what car?” He adjusted his earmuffs because he’d rather be caught dead than wear a proper hat. Billy, meanwhile, strolled through the greenery and the first snowflakes spitting from the sky with leisurely ease in his beanie.

He laughed, “I like how you’re not saying no.”

Steve didn’t do much to hide his mimicry as he trudged behind Billy, who chuckled to himself. “For once it actually smells nice. The trees really cover up the cow shit of—oh my god, there are actual cows.”

A line of tables displayed other living decorations like wreaths and garlands, but beyond them was a field of black and red cattle. Billy moved under a line of wreaths hanging over their heads to see how they actually had blankets on their backs. “Are the cow jackets norm—”

Steve caught his mouth in a quick, firm kiss. The sound of their lips parting echoed in Billy’s ears. Steve’s fingers lifted off his jaw to touch something noisy above their heads. Billy dumbly looked up to see the tiny bells interwoven with a mistletoe wreath. “Careful. We have real mistletoe here. Not whatever plastic California has.”

He left Billy stupefied, having the audacity to stroll away with a whistle on his lips before Billy snapped out of it and nearly tackled him. “OW! Agh, fu-shit, Jesus—”

“You’re better about planting your feet,” Billy breathed against Steve’s earmuff. He held Steve’s arms trapped against his body.

“Are you always this mean when someone kisses you?” he strained in Billy’s tight grip. The gravel under their boots grit and rattled as Billy dragged Steve deeper into the trees. “Alright! I should’ve asked! I’m sorry—”

Steve might’ve stolen the first kiss, but Billy shoved him into a tree and took it back. He took Steve’s cold shock against his lips, until hot breath warmed them up between nervous stares. Then Billy took his lips, his tongue, the taste of the mint brownies Steve ate on the way here. The cold tip of Steve’s nose pushed into his cheek, and Billy’s heart felt fragile against the softness of Steve’s mouth.

His breath trembled as he asked, “Why did you do that?”

Why do you give me rides? Give me food? Why do you cook every night? Why did you give me a bedroom? Will you let me into yours?

Steve’s arms around his waist moved, tightening a little but also moving up Billy’s spine as if to comfort him. To anchor them together. Steve swallowed, and the fragility in his eyes made Billy’s throat hurt. “I didn’t get to the first time.”

Billy couldn’t stand it. He pushed Steve’s earmuffs off in his effort to press his face against Steve’s neck. To absorb the delicious little sound that escaped him when Billy’s cold nose found the warm pocket inside his collar.

Billy didn’t think he’d be able to kiss anyone ever again.

Not after…

But all he wanted was to keep Steve’s lips on him. To steal him away like some fairytale winter troll and either keep him or devour him if he tried to leave.

“Billy?” His name was muffled against his own scarf, so tightly did Steve hold onto him.

But if Steve was taking…maybe Billy could let himself be stolen again.

“When we’re home…” he sniffled on his way back up to standing on his own. “Kiss me again.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

Billy laughed through his tears. “No, you’re buying me the biggest tree your car can carry. And I’ll steal that wreath while they’re distracted.”

“You have the money to buy it!”

“That’s no fun.”

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 1, updated)

After uploading the first part of my plance fic here, I ended up writing more on that same period of time. It’s not much, but I thought I would add it anyway.

This fic is based on the “Someone you like” animatic by honestlyprettychill. Their work is super bomb, so I ask you guys to go check it out and give the artist some love. With this update, I’m hoping to have wrapped up on the pre-Garrison time period, and I have already started writing Pidge’s pov of their time as students, so you’ll have that to look foward to, if you end up enjoying this fic. My other post has more disclaimers, so you can find it here. This story is also available on AO3.

The part I added comes after the -- that I used as a page break.

Thanks to everyone who has liked and reblogged this verse. Feel free to add comments in the tags or to straight up come talk to me. I love feedback.

Spanish to English translations at the end.

14 and 12 years old

The truth was that Lance went to Space Camp because Veronica could be a little pest. She knew their parents wouldn’t let her go alone and so had enticed her younger brother with the promise of travel and foreign girls and no parental supervision.

Veronica had obviously left out the fact that they were essentially going to school on steroids for a month, smack in the middle of their summer break. Cool as Miami might seem, Lance wasn’t exactly excited for all the extra work the camp would entail.

“No es un acampamiento,” his sister repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. He wasn’t listening anymore. “Tú sabes que el campo de explotación espacial no está muy desenvuelto en Cuba. Si realmente quieres trabajar con eso, entonces simplemente cállate y no insultes a nadie.”

“¿Cuando he insultado a alguien?” he shot back, defensive. Veronica didn’t dignify that with an answer.

As much as Lance might like to think himself very smooth, there were still times when he stumbled over his words, especially in English. More than once he’d meant to pay someone a compliment and had accidentally started an argument of some kind.

Veronica looked impatiently at her watch. “Mira, tengo una reunión con mi orientador. Y tú tienes por lo menos dos artículos para leer para las clases de mañana, ¿por qué no vas a la biblioteca para trabajar un poco? Prometo comprarte una hamburguesa después.”

Lance pouted at her, arms crossed over his chest. “Me debes más que una hamburguesa y lo sabes, Ronie.”

His sister snickered, but it was as much of an acknowledgement as he was going to get. Veronica pressed a quick kiss to his hair, already turning to go into the main building.

“¡Gracias, hermanito! ¡No te arrepentirás!”

In all honesty, Lance wasn’t as irritated as he made Veronica believe. He knew that a summer program in Miami was a really good opportunity, especially if he wanted to get into the Garrison in the following years. It was just difficult.

He was diligent and studious, but not as naturally gifted as some of the other kids. Besides, he hadn’t been to the US in a couple years, since his parents had mostly settled down in the family farm, which meant he still had to fall back into his English, a task made even more frustrating by the xenophobic comments from one of the boys in his AP geometry class.

The teacher had put an end to it right away, but the words stuck with Lance, for some reason.

With how much humanity had progressed in terms of technology, one would think they would be able to get past petty rivalry between nationalities and usually that was true, but the influx of foreigners following the establishment of the Galaxy Garrison in the US desert still annoyed some people, despite its existence as a multinational center for space exploration. It irritated Lance to no end, especially when so many of these scientific advances came from international collaboration.

If only he could shrug off the inadequacy that now grew in his chest.

Straight ahead, there was a path that led to a green area in the middle of the campus. The other students had taken to calling it the Woods, though it was more of a middle-sized park, with benches and picnic tables where anyone from the Institute could go to relax. That’s where Lance went, mind too full to really focus on homework.

He wondered if people would react that same way if he ever made it into the Garrison. He didn’t know how Veronica dealt with it all, especially when she was alone in Arizona most of the time. Barely a week had passed and Lance already missed his parents, the tenderness of home-cooked food and well-intended lectures.

No, he had to believe that Billy Underwood was an exception. The other kids hadn’t joined in on his taunts, even if no one had moved to defend Lance. It was still too early to make conclusions on his colleagues, especially when everyone had seemed so charmed by him before then.

Lance was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize he had been standing in front of one of the benches until a new voice broke through the peace of the park.

“Are you just gonna stand there?”

The words were somewhat harsh, but when Lance lowered his eyes to their source the girl winced, grimacing. She seemed to have spoken impulsively.

“Hmm, yeah.” Lance blinked at her for a moment, before finally sitting down on the bench. He made sure to leave space between him and the girl, not wanting to make the situation even more awkward.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” the girl said after a moment of silence. She looked at him sideways and her brown eyes seemed almost golden in the sunlight. There were freckles spread across the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks, and the green ribbon in her hair swayed in the wind. It was a soft sight, a contrast to the steeliness of her posture and gaze.

“It’s fine,” Lance hurried to assure her. She looked young, but so did he, and talking to complete strangers never failed to make him nervous. “Nothing like a little girl yelling at me to bring me back to earth.”

He gave her his best grin, the one reserved for first impressions and fancy parties. It was supposed to project confidence and kindness, even though Luis said he ended up looking a bit smug.

“I didn’t yell,” the girl pointed out with a light frown. Then her eyes shifted into a more calculating look. “You’re a bit of a goofball, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term good-humored,” he replied jokingly.

She continued to stare. Lance got the feeling that the girl did this a lot. She had an untamed intelligence to her that Lance couldn’t completely understand. It was the sort of air that teachers sometimes carried, as if they could see something deeper in you if they looked long enough.

“It didn’t seem like you were feeling all that good-humored just now.” She tilted her head to the side, letting the words hang between them.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” Lance found himself saying.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” She looked so doubtful that it almost made Lance laugh. The feeling, however, was overcome by the relief of finally having someone who would listen.

He had spent the week trying and failing to explain to Veronica what was truly making him feel down. She was too busy or too happy for Lance to tell her the truth, especially when it left him so vulnerable. After all, Veronica had taken to her work on the Institute like a fish to water. Lance was supposed to be more adaptable than this.

With the rest of his family away in Cuba, he felt unbearably lonely.

“Yes! Thank you!” Lance shifted in the bench to face the girl. She was taken aback by his enthusiasm, but didn’t move away. “There’s this cabrón in my class, who thought it was a good idea to mess with me, just ‘cause I said fábrica instead of factory in our first day here. He hasn’t really left me alone since…” he whined. “I speak two languages but somehow I’m the uneducated ass here!”

The girl nodded, eyes downcast. “I know what you mean.”

“You do?” He eyed the fairness of her skin and the almost ginger of her hair. “Sorry, but you look white.”

Lance’s comment must have taken her by surprise, because she actually laughed.

“I am white. I’m also Italian.” She rolled her eyes, but there was amusement in the tug of her lips. “I can be both.”

“That’s true.” Lance grinned sheepishly. It was good that she wasn’t offended by his lack of filter. “You don’t have much of an accent, though.”

“Neither do you,” the girl bit back, no real animosity in her tone.

He shrugged. “My family spent a lot of time in the US when I was younger. It used to be second nature to me. Now, I keep feeling like I have to hold back the instinct to roll my R’s.”

“I get that. My parents moved here right after I was born, but we used to speak Italian in the house.” There was a pause here, something that she couldn’t bring herself to say. “I think it’s cool that you can speak Spanish. It’s useful.”

“Yeah?” Lance sat up straight, feeling suddenly boastful.

“Sure!” she continued, encouraged by his interest. “The Bouman Aeronautics Research Institute really values multiculturalism! It is a hob of different nationalities and perspectives, created to foster new minds from around the world! Or that’s what my brother says, at least, and he is rarely wrong.” She gave him a smirk that quickly shifted into a grimace. “Don’t tell him I said that or he will never let me forget it.”

“Older brother?” At her nod, Lance smiled. “I got older siblings too. Sort of the reason I’m here in the first place, actually. One of them was accepted as a researcher and she tricked me into applying too.”

“Same, actually.” She seemed startled for a moment, pulling out her cellphone. “Freak, I have to go! I completely lost track of time while reading.” She got up to go, collecting the book she’d apparently put down to talk to him. It was a thick volume with numbers on the cover, but it didn’t look like math.

Another green ribbon fluttered to the ground, having escaped the pages of the book. Lance bent down to pick it up.

“Here.” He stretched it out to the girl. “Wouldn’t want to lose its pair,” he said with a wink.

“Thanks for reminding me!” She grabbed the ribbon hurriedly, then paused, turning back to Lance. “And for the conversation, I guess.”

Lance grinned at her. She was a little awkward but in an endearing way, like she wasn’t used to having the attention of others on her. Given she empathized with his circumstances in the Institute, it wasn’t that big of a leap to assume that she had trouble making friends.

“Bye bye, Italian girl.” He waved, glad that he could spend these few minutes with her.

“Farewell, Spanish boy.”

Lance meant to correct her about his nationality, but she took out running, clearly late for something. He laughed at the way she stumbled across the uneven ground, careless like a little kid. It was a strange juxtaposition: the thoughtfulness of her earlier words and the childishness of her smile now.

He settled back into the bench, feeling much more content than he’d been earlier. It was nice to talk to people outside of class, for a change.

And, well, Italian girl was pretty. A bit young-looking for him, but he thought guys her age should be tripping over their feet for a chance to talk to her.

“Hey, you’re Lance, right?” A boy had approached while Lance observed the girl disappear from sight. He was tall and robust, with shortly cropped hair, but his expression was friendly. “You’re in my Analytics class.”

It took Lance a second to place him. Analytics was one of the classes Lance struggled with the most, so he hadn’t had as much opportunity to joke around there.

“And you’re Hunk!” Lance snapped his fingers, smiling. “Sit down, man! What can I do for ya?”

--

“No, I promise you, she’s a cutie!” Lance exclaimed, hands waving around in the air. Hunk chuckled at his exuberance.

“I believe you, Lance.” His friend’s tone was fond and amused, which brought a smile to Lance’s face. “You’ve told me about Italian girl a hundred times already. Why don’t you just approach her again? You said you saw her on campus.”

It was true, he had seen her: running across the woods with her arms full of books; sitting by the big windows in the cafeteria, papers spread across the nearby seats; standing under an oak tree with her face turned towards the wind, her long hair escaping from where she’d tied it back.

Lance pouted at Hunk. “She hasn’t spoken to me since…” he mumbled.

“Well,” Hunk scrunched up his brows in thought, “you did say she seemed younger than us. She’s probably just embarrassed about venting to a stranger out of nowhere.”

Lance threw himself onto his bed so that Hunk wouldn’t see his face contort in a grimace. He hadn’t meant to twist the story so badly, but he had already started talking about Italian girl before he realized he didn’t want to share his insecurities with the other boy. Hunk was almost excessively easy to talk to, but they’d known each other for too short a time.

“She didn’t seem like the shy type,” he retorted, arms spread over his head. “Too snipy.”

Hunk had gotten up from his place at the desk and moved to sit on the bed, shaking his head at Lance. He had kind eyes, something that Lance hadn’t really noticed on that first week in the Institute. Some things just got lost amid the noise, he reasoned.

“For someone who feels no shame hitting on random girls, you sure are hung up on this one.” Hunk poked him on the ribs and Lance recoiled, twisting away.

“It’s not like that!” Even as he said it, Lance could feel his neck grow warm. He wasn’t really attracted to the girl, but there was something pleasant about her that did leave him faltering. “Seriously, dude, she’s probably the same age as my little sister!”

Hunk hummed in acceptance. “If you say that’s not it, then I believe you. You just talk about her a lot for someone who you only met once.”

Lance sat up to look Hunk in the eyes. It was true that his mind kept drifting back towards that girl, but he didn’t think the emotion she awakened in him was romantic.

“I’ve just never clicked with anyone like that,” he confessed, bringing his knees up to his chest. “And maybe that’s also why I haven’t talked to her again. ‘Cause what if it was a hoax?”

“So you don’t want to ruin the memory of it?” Hunk put a finger to his chin in a considering motion. “That’s fair.”

There was more to it, but Lance didn’t feel like explaining himself further. Several times he had gone by Italian girl in the library, even stopped to look at her, considering, but whenever she raised those amber eyes to meet his, Lance froze. He blushed and blustered and eventually left.

It was nice to see her smiling, though, even if it was at his expense. She was always alone when Lance saw her and it reminded him of how isolated he’d felt before befriending Hunk.

Italian girl was clearly smart, probably smarter than almost anyone in the institute, given how fast she went through those complicated-looking books. She also spent a lot of time in the library, because it was where Lance most ran into her. It was always her and her astronomy books and her ribbons.

Maybe he was projecting. Luis said he did this a lot.

“I just hope she found a friend here,” he said, more to himself than to Hunk, “someone who will also end up a little late just because they want to hear her out.”

Hunk studied his face, making Lance shift his position in discomfort.

“Who could have known?” the boy started teasingly. “You’re actually a good guy behind all that arrogance.”

Lance used his elbow to push Hunk off the bed, complaining more dramatically than was truly warranted. His friend laughed as he got up, only to throw himself back onto Lance to mess up his hair.

“What the hell, dude? Going for my hairdo?” He tried to free himself from Hunk’s arm around his neck. “Friendship over! We are no longer rooming when we get to the Garrison!”

Hunk didn’t let up and the two continued to laugh well into the afternoon.

Their time in the Institute would end in a little over a week, and Italian girl would drift to the back of Lance’s mind to become a lovely memory, just the afterimage of someone who could have meant more to him.

Translations:

“No es un acampamiento.Tú sabes que el campo de explotación espacial no está muy desenvuelto en Cuba. Si realmente quieres trabajar con eso, entonces simplemente cállate y no insultes a nadie.” - “It’s not a camp. You know that the field of space exploration is not very well developped in Cuba. If you really do want to work in this area, then simply shut up and don’t insult anyone.”

“¿Cuando he insultado a alguien?” - “When have I insulted anyone?”

“Mira, tengo una reunión con mi orientador. Y tú tienes por lo menos dos artículos para leer para las clases de mañana, ¿por qué no vas a la biblioteca para trabajar un poco? Prometo comprarte una hamburguesa después.” - “Look, I have a meeting with my coordinator. And you have at least two articles to read for tomorrow’s classes. Why don’t you go work for a bit in the library? I promise to buy you a burger later.”

“Me debes más que una hamburguesa y lo sabes, Ronie.” - “You owe me more than a burger and you know it, Ronie.”

“¡Gracias, hermanito! ¡No te arrepentirás!” - “Thank you, little brother! You won’t regret it!”

Cabrón - Bastard