#max you can’t just outright say that

[vicsy]

I’m going to end it all, folks

[katsu28]

maiden wins & secret meet-ups

pairing: oscar piastri x verstappen!reader

summary: cons of being in a secret relationship—oscar wins his first race, and you can't celebrate with him outright like you want to. (1.9k)

warnings: secret relationship, max’s younger sister but no descriptors of reader so imagine whomever you want!

a/n: oscar piastri grand prix winner sounds like music to my ears <3 better decisions definitely could've been made on mclaren’s end, but still over the moon for oscar!!! 

You have mixed feelings as Oscar zooms past the checkered flag. 

Your brother is pissed. Max has been furious the entire race, at the car’s capabilities, at the team’s strategies, and more than likely at himself too. He’s hard on himself, but that’s the way you have to be to maintain a razor sharp edge like the one Max has.

You’re a little upset too, what with sibling solidarity and all, but you really have to fight the truly massive smile threatening to overtake your face as you watch the broadcast from Red Bull hospitality. 

It’s not everyday the guy you’ve been secretly seeing for the past five months—your boyfriend, as much as it still feels weird to say that—gets his maiden Formula One win. He’s worked hard, as everyone involved with all the teams has, but you’re biased.

Oscar’s win, although marked with some not so great strategy calls on McLaren’s end, even you could tell, is one for the books. 

You’re buzzing with barely contained excitement, even hours later, itching to find Oscar and pull him aside so you can give him the love he deserves for everything that happened today. 

It seems like Oscar’s thinking of you too, because your phone chimes with a text right then. 

Oscar: Hey, what’re you doing right now? 

You bite your lip to hide the giddy reaction you still get whenever Oscar texts you as you tap out a reply. Nothing. What’s up? 

Oscar: Behind the RB hub. Can you sneak out? 

You: Be right there <3

You look up, glancing around to see if anyone who’d go running straight to Max was around, and gladly coming up empty. You’re glad for it, because you’re not sure you could’ve stopped yourself from hightailing it towards the back exit of the motorhome even if you wanted to. You haven’t seen Oscar after the race yet. There hasn’t been a good time to sneak out and find him. 

Oscar’s pacing back and forth when you emerge, stopping only when he hears the soft click of the door closing behind you. For a moment, all you can do is stare at each other, unmoving.

You can’t help but look him up and down too, because you’re definitely not immune to how sexy your man looks post race.

Race suit tied off around his waist, showing off those snug black fireproofs that cling to his chest and arms just right, messy hair tucked into that special black OP1 cap—you’re not ashamed of your ogling. 

Then he smiles adorably, and now you’re grinning like a maniac too, letting out a gleeful, albeit quiet giggle as you close the gap and throw yourself into his arms. 

He catches you easily, arms winding around your waist as he hugs you tightly. You’ve got your cheek squished against the hard plane of his shoulder, and the zipper of his suit digs into your hip sharply, but you’re so happy for him, so happy that it doesn’t even matter. 

“I’m so proud of you, Osc,” You sigh contentedly. “I narrowly avoided cheering at the top of my lungs in the middle of the hub. Would not have been a good look for me, would it?” 

“Probably not, no,” Oscar laughs, setting you back down on your feet. His arms stay in their place around you, as do yours where they’re looped around his neck.

You take him in fully now, flicking the bill of his new cap playfully. “Nice hat.” 

“You think so?” You nod wholeheartedly and he swipes it off his head, blowing the previously champagne soaked confetti off of it before securing it on your head. It’s a bit sticky and even more sweaty, but the gesture itself makes you beam. Then he leans in to sniff it and makes a weird face. “Yeah, maybe I’ll just get you a new one.” 

“That'd be great, actually. I want you to keep this one to remember your first win—champagne, sweat, and all. But I’ll keep it as collateral until you cough up the clean one.” 

“Deal,” He replies, smiling fondly at you. “D’you have any dinner plans? If not, maybe we can order in, or find a nice restaurant?” 

“A nice restaurant?” You tease, walking your fingers up the sleeves of his fireproof. Muscles pull taut under your fingertips like cords as Oscar shivers at your touch. You’re grinning like the cat that’s got the cream now, always enjoying the reaction you can get out of him every single time, no matter where you are. “Are we celebrating something, or…?” 

Oscar shrugs nonchalantly. “We don’t have to. It could just be a casual dinner, if you want.” 

“Oscar Piastri, you need to learn to be more selfish. Of course we’re celebrating your first win,” You huff, smacking him on the chest lightly. His lips quirk up into a smile again. “You did amazing. Seriously. McLaren is beyond lucky to have you on the track for them.” 

“Thank you,” He murmurs, squeezing your hip tenderly. “It means a lot coming from you.”

You lean in to kiss him, finally, but then—

“Your—erm, your back pocket is buzzing,” Oscar says awkwardly, chin up as he averts his eyes to the sky. You groan, letting your forehead fall against his chest, fishing the offending device out of your pocket again to see your brother’s face filling the screen. 

Max is calling you. You love him to bits, but he always has the absolute worst timing. 

“Hi, Maxie. What’s up?” 

“Where are you?” He demands. 

“I’m great, thanks for asking. Yes, I did enjoy watching you race, thanks for asking,” You encourage, leaning back to shoot Oscar a look as if to say, can you believe this guy? 

“Right, yeah. Sorry. I appreciate you making the trip out to watch. Better?” 

“Much better.” 

“Good. So where are you?” 

“Uh…just getting some air, why?” 

“Outside?” 

“No, in your stinky driver’s room. Yes, I’m outside. Again, why?” You roll your eyes at Oscar, who merely chuckles silently. Max sighs loudly. Dramatically. “Are you alright, Max?” 

“Yeah, fine, fine. Are you free for dinner tonight before you fly back to London in the morning?” He sounds uncharacteristically hopeful, but still a little stiff, like he’s still pissed. He probably is still pissed. 

How are you supposed to tell Max you already have dinner plans with someone else when he knows for a fact you’re not close enough with anyone else in the paddock to get dinner with them, without letting him know who it is? 

The answer is you can’t. 

You look at Oscar hopelessly. 

It’s fine, he mouths, shaking his head. You get the message. He wants you to be there for your brother, even if it means missing out on spending some much overdue time with you. 

“Yes, of course. Anything for my darling big brother,” You say airily. You’ve always loved to push Max’s buttons. 

“You’re not funny, you know that?” Max deadpans. You can almost picture the flat look he’d be giving you if you were in front of him. But then he sounds a little happier when he adds, “I’m almost to the paddock. I’ll meet you outside the team hub as soon as I can.” 

Knowing Max, ‘as soon as I can’ gives you about five minutes to gather yourself. “Okay. I’ll see you soon then. Love you.” Max parrots the same back to you before hanging up. You look back up at your boyfriend, lips pressing into an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry, Osc. He—you know how Max gets after a frustrating race, I—” 

“It’s alright. Really.” Oscar shakes his head, shrugging. “Family first. He needs you right now, I get it.” 

“We’ll celebrate your win with dinner as soon as we both get back to London, alright? I promise. Maybe I’ll even cook for you.” 

His eyebrows nearly fly into his hairline at that, and he tilts his head, letting out a thoughtful noise. “Maybe I should win more often if it means I get a home cooked meal for it.” 

“Maybe you should. Winning looks good on you anyways.” 

“Does it? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, believe me. Feels good though, even if it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.” 

“You did great,” You say firmly, punctuating the fact with a sharp nod. “Own it.”

Oscar blinks a few times, as if he’s digesting the compliment. “Thank you.” 

“Alright, you need to go before Max gets here, because he’ll probably try to fight you if he sees us together.” 

“Your brother likes me.” 

“We’ll talk about why that may or may not be true another time. For now, go.” You give his chest what’s meant to be one last tap before you go. 

Oscar, however, has a different idea. He grabs your hand as you move to pull away, tugging you back towards him and pressing his lips against yours, firm enough to knock the wind out of you, but not hard enough to bruise. 

You’re fully aware that you’re technically in public, where anyone could turn the corner to see the two of you wrapped up in your own little world together. Specifically, any Red Bull employee that would definitely rat you out to Max. It doesn’t really matter to you though, because all that’s running through your mind right now is Oscar, Oscar, Oscar—

He pulls back too soon for your liking, dotting a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “Alright, I’ll be off then.” 

“Real funny, Piastri!” You call after him. He just shoots you a haphazard thumbs up behind his head, though you suspect if he turned around he’d be grinning like a little shit. 

“Don’t forget to hide that hat!” is all he says in response, and then he’s out of sight. 

You slip back into the motorhome through the door you came through, hiding Oscar’s hat until you get to where you’ve stored your bag and stuffing it in as best you can, before hurrying out to wait for Max out front. 

He materializes by your side only seconds after you’ve managed to make yourself a little more put together, startling you with his blunt words. 

“Why do you look like that?” He asks, squinting at you in confusion. 

“Wow, thanks. You look absolutely stunning today too.” You roll your eyes at him, to which he just raises a judgy brow. “Why do I look like what?”

“Like you’ve just been hit over the head with a frying pan.” 

At that moment, a flash of papaya catches your eye from over his shoulder—Oscar, walking off back towards the McLaren hub like he hadn’t just kissed the daylights out of you behind his competitor’s temporary sanctuary. If you look dazed, it’s all because of him. But you can’t exactly tell Max that. 

“Oh, um, I dunno. Just tired, maybe. Long day. Intense race.” 

Max blows out a sigh, slinging an arm around your shoulders and leaning on you heavily. “Tell me about it.”

You pat him on the back sympathetically. “Sorry for the way it turned out, Maxie. You’ll get the win next time.” 

“Yeah I know. But Oscar—he’s not that bad, as far as drivers go. What do you think?” 

What do you think of Oscar? 

You think he’s one of the best things to ever come into your life. You think he’s got the potential of becoming a World Champion one day. You think he’s truly something special, both as a driver, and to you. 

Instead, you shrug. “He’s pretty good. Don’t really know him all that well, but he seems like a solid guy.” 

You want Oscar to be your little secret for just a little longer, even if it means telling your brother a tiny white lie.

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[bomber-grl]

Rock Lee Relationship hc —✩𓏲⋆.🍵✮˚

Pairing(s): Rock Lee x Gn!Reader

Bro is down bad for you, I don’t make the rules

Yknow how he was automatically smitten with Sakura and sent her those weird kisses?

Yea well it’s you, not her

I have two ways I imagine rock Lee being when trying to get with you

He’s either bold and unapologetic about his feelings, he wants you to know how you make him feel!

Or he’s still unapologetic, just shy and more giddy if anything, just at the thought of you

Honestly I’d like to think hes a combination of both

Like at first he’s terribly direct to the point where Tenten is seriously considering giving some advice

Which she does end up doing

He ends up confessing his more than obvious feelings for you with an over dramatic blush and is honestly so sweet

He even has some flowers

You end up accepting and so commences your relationship

If you have some sort of friendship with Naruto he’d ask you if you were seriously dating “bushy brows”

💀 blud can’t even be saying anything when Sakura won’t even give him the time of day (in the anime)

The only people are aren’t really shocked at your relationship is everyone

Yea, everyone

I mean lees devotion to you before you even got together was enough.

Anyway, if you’re more of bold person whose affectionate then Lee is more than delighted

He relishes in the hugs and any sort of affection that you give him.

Honestly I can imagine him trying to be like the gigga chads and stuff 💀

Man just loves you Alr?

In front of you he’s pretty outright giddy but when you’re not looking? Down bad

He’s literally giggling about what you do and say- not exactly to anyone in particular but his teammates and guy are there to witness it anyway

Guy is supportive, tenten lowkey regrets giving him advice and Neji just wants Lee to shut up

Rock lee is lowkey always open with his affections with you

He’s always determined just in general

Which is where you come in

Honestly another possibility of how you two got together

Lee is strong, don’t get me wrong

But the “power of youth” and some flimsy leg warmers aren’t always going to keep him safe

If you’re a ninja and you’re worried about him then he just argues that you can protect him, and him you

Him protecting you is so true no matter who you are- civilian, ninja, whatnot

Literally the only way anyone could ever get to you would be over his dead cold body

Not that he’d let whoever is coming at you to even kill him in the first place

If you’re a ninja he likes to train with you

I was honestly torn between him not wanting to spar with you or him really wanting to and going all out

I’m certain he’d do the latter

You’re a ninja and you’re both trying to improve, so ofc he’d put his all into it

And if you’re not one and you’re a civilian then he’d more than happy to incorporate you into his training

He’d probably have you sit on his back while he does pushups or something similar 😭

Love wise, lee is so passionate

The moment you get together he’s legit never letting go and is seriously devoted to you

I wouldn’t even be surprised if Lee bought an engagement ring before you started even dating

He’s always bringing you gifts, food and making sure you take care of yourself

He’s very serious and determined to take care of you even if you’re fully capable

And if you try to do the same?

Flustered to the max

He gets really flustered when you kiss him too 😭

I wouldn’t be surprised if his soul almost detached the first time you did.

[urhoneycombwitch]

which makes you shine

eddie x reader, 1.6k

foreword: okay by clicking Keep Reading you agree to not perceive me at all. sacred oath!!! you promise?? title is from Which Will by Nick Drake <3 this one goes out to the bitches (gn) who can never take a goddamn compliment.

___

Eddie wasn’t sure exactly when you started rebuffing his compliments, only that you’ve been doing it with more insistence in the recent weeks.

He thought it was sweet, in the beginning, the way a passing joke of his about how hot you were could end in you blushing and rolling your eyes; or better yet, with a light shove to his chest that he’d use to his advantage, pulling you in by the wrists and smothering your face in kisses.

But lately you won’t even let him call you pretty. Lately, you’ve taken to cringing away from his soft-voiced praises- whining at him playfully to stop if you happen to be in public, outright ignoring him if it’s just the two of you at home. 

It kills him. It really does. Not hyperbole. Every time Eddie gives you a compliment and it isn’t taken, a part of his soul dies.

It’s not as if you’ve forgotten how words of affection work- you’re more than comfortable calling Eddie all kinds of mushy things that make his heart sputter, his head in your hands, drinking in your love with a dreamy smile. 

Maybe you need to learn how to bask…? Eddie’s not really one for complex psychology, but he’s gotta find a fix for this, and quick- this morning you were stretched out on the bed, sleep-warm cheek pressed to the pillow, and when he leaned over to kiss your forehead and whispered “Morning, beautiful,” your first action of the day was a frown. 

Followed by a stretch, a yawn, and a question about going to the diner (which didn’t need to be asked, anyways- he always took you to Nell’s on Wednesdays; part deep-seated ritual, part his absolute lack of ability to say no to you.)

Eddie watches you now from across the diner booth, arms crossed in his leather jacket, tapping a finger mindlessly and arrhythmically against his bicep, mulling. 

You’ve taken on the task of fixing up the two mugs of coffee, deftly peeling creamer lids and sugar packets apart, stirring both with the same stick, slip of tongue around the wooden stirrer to catch the drips. As if in a trance, Eddie watches as you wrap your hands around your own, sighing sweetly with contentment as the first taste of caffeine rushes in.

Eddie fights every base instinct that surfaces- looking gorgeous today, thanks for doin’ mine, pretty girl, you gonna come sit by me, sweet thing?- and instead takes his own mug in hand, rings clinking against the porcelain as he feigns casual and tests the waters.

“Nice bracelet. New one?”

“Oh- mhm.” Your attention shifts to the thin braided rope around your wrist, the trace of a smile around your eyes. “Max is really into friendship bracelets right now. She gave me green and blue, which I think is… good? Dunno. Lots of teen bracelet-making politics that I’m not aware of.”

Eddie chuckles, and your smile is swallowed up by the rim of your mug. A running mental checklist appears in his mind- so she’ll take the compliment if it’s of a thing. Interesting.

His plan was to start slow, maybe ease you in over the course of a few days, gradually picking up speed on the Compliments Agenda but he really can’t help himself. There’s morning sunlight spilling in from the window, and when you turn your head to look, it lights you up in a million beautiful ways and the words are gushing out before he can think to stop them- “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

With a wince, you’re turning away from the window, light on your face and in your eyes dimming. 

Eddie’s heart plummets. Falls straight to the bottom of his stomach. He says, carefully, aware of how thin the ice is- “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

You blink, your expression neutral save for a slight pinch of confusion between the brows- “Do what?”

At first, Eddie thinks you’re fucking with him, ‘cuz how could someone as smart and self-aware as you have a blind spot this big; when he realizes your reaction is genuine, he tamps down the urge to spill his guts and show his hand all in one, instead opting for gentleness- “You realize every time I give you a compliment, you’re real goddamn loathe to take it?”

Another few slow blinks, and then your face falters, shame crawling up quick and sick like a wave- “No I don’t. Do I?”

Eddie laughs- just shy of exasperated- and slides his left hand palm-up towards you. “Sure do, sweetheart. S’like flirting with a very hot but very intimidating sorcerer and rolling nat ones on my charisma checks.”

You giggle, and though it’s muted with embarrassment Eddie counts it as a victory; your hand fits snug in his against the table, and he squeezes, wading out a little further into the testing waters now that the initial ice is broken- “Is it that I don’t give you good enough compliments? Hm? Need to up my game? ‘Cuz I’ll do it for you, babe- I’ll hit the books. Shakespeare and all that shit.”

This eye-roll of yours is steeped in fondness; Eddie swipes a thumb over the back of your hand, your eyes fixed on the point of contact as you say, softly- “No, it’s not you. It’s me. I just- sometimes it’s hard…”

The sentence sticks in your throat like a scratched record, and you shift in your seat, uncomfortable. Eddie can feel your overwhelming desire to pull away, to retreat, so he sets his coffee aside and adds another hand to the mix, feeling your pulse point jump beneath his thumbs. “What do you find hard about taking a compliment from me?”

There’s a soft sheen over your eyes, tears of frustration or sadness or maybe both as you struggle to find the right words. “I don’t- I don’t know, it’s like… some days it’s easy and it feels good. Other times it’s hard, like I can’t… like my brain won’t let me accept it.” 

Around the coffee mug, your knuckles strain from tight grip, like you’re ready to crawl out of your skin and the only thing holding you back is Eddie’s hands. “Sorry. I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job explaining.”

“You’re doing a great job.” Eddie soothes his thumbs against your wrist, and you melt into the touch, just slightly, but enough for your shoulder to drop back into place. “So… it’s not that you don’t like my compliments, it’s just, sometimes, it’s harder for you to take them?”

You nod, voice devoid of any usual color as you whisper, “Sorry.”

“Hey-” he tugs at your hand, finally getting your eyes on his, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Thanks for telling me. Now that I know what the problem is, you’re lucky I got a cure.”

“A cure?” Incredulous but curious, your eyes stay on Eddie’s even as he leans back against the booth, dropping your hand to spread out his own in a jazzy flash.

“Yup. Eddie Munson’s Surefire Cure to the Compliment Blues in Six Steps. Now, normally-” here Eddie leans in, conspiratorial, casting a suspicious glance over his shoulder to the near-empty diner before saying in a low tone, “-I’d charge fifty bucks a step. My methods are very exclusive and in high demand, but lucky for you-ooo…” This last word at a higher, sing-song volume as Eddie straightens to his full height, sweeping a grand gesture through the air, “I’m running a special.”

Your nose crinkles in amusement. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You can have all six steps for the low low price of taking my scheduled compliments- once a day, at the time of my choosing, no takebacks or backtalk allowed.” Eddie’s elbows come back to the table with a thunk, eyebrows raised in your direction. “We got a deal?”

“I guess I shouldn’t pass up this great offer,” you intone, dryly, but with a hint of levity that has you shaking Eddie’s outstretched hand. “Okay. You got yourself a new student, Mr. Munson.”

“Please, Mr. Munson was my father- call me Dearest Professor.”

A genuine laugh from you has Eddie finding his heart again, pulling it up from his stomach to slam properly into his chest as he catches your eyes again- “Also, lucky for you, my offer includes the first step. You are so beautiful, and pretty, and smart, and I love-”

“Wait, wait,” you titter, nervous and breathless, casting your own looks around the diner- “We’re starting now?”

“Ah ah. No backtalk. That handshake was a sacred oath,” Eddie chides. “As I was saying- I love you. Your hair looks lovely like that. Sometimes I think about stabbing my eyes out like that Oedipus guy just to make sure your face is the last thing I’ll ever see-”

“Not sure Oedipus is the best role model for-”

“No backtalk,” Eddie says, sternly, with a finger point that settles you back into the booth. “Fine. If I was Orpheus I’d look back at you one million times just to see ya. Better analogy?”

The pull of your throat is rough as you fight to swallow down words, nodding silently instead, squirming a little in your seat but still leaps and bounds better than any aftermath of a compliment that Eddie’s witnessed in weeks. 

“All right,” he sighs, ready to be done with pushing your comfort zone, wanting to take up the rhythm of your playfulness again something desperate. “Class is dismissed, for now. Good job.”

You glow under the praise- seemingly, a distinction between compliment and job well done, Eddie files that under his checklist- then ask, “So what’s step two?”

“Huh?” 

“Of your… Complimenting Me Until Death course. Or whatever you called it.”

Eddie takes another sip of coffee, spinning the laminated Nell’s menu around on the formica tabletop- folks can say what they want about ol’ Eddie Munson, but DMing has given him a very special skillset of pulling things out of his ass and turning them into gold. 

“Step two is ordering pancakes. Obviously. Get whatever you want, sweetheart.”

[darlingofsatoru]

JJK & CHRISTMAS

⊹ synopsis: Various hcs of Jjk characters at Christmas.

SATORU GOJO

-This man is ecstatic, Christmas is his version of heaven.

-Christmas dates are necessary, he’s gonna go out with you in fuzzy coats, gloves, earmuffs, scarfs and hats with pom-poms on them, even if it’s not snowing.

-Hot drinks are also a necessary (he pays every time, pulls his credit card out quickly just as you’re getting yours out, no amount of convincing or bribing can stop him from doing this every time he can.)

-PRESENTS. This mf is so extra with them, type of man to get you tons of expensive jewellery then giggle and blush like a school girl at a teddy-bear and his favourite chocolate.

-Stops using his infinity just so the snow can fall on him (and ofc so he can throw snowballs at you & vice versa!!)

-VERY over the top with Christmas decorations, that one house that has lights all over their yard, driveway, roof & any place in sight (he floated up to the roof because he nearly fell off a ladder one time and doesn’t want to make you do it for him).

-His sweet tooth is in full swing, that man will be buying any sweets he sees that are even remotely festive, he probably even justifies buying things that barely have any relation by trying to make up a tradition.

-Snowmen will be made if there’s snow, he’s running outside with you even if ur wearing nothing but pajamas, you cannot escape making a snowman with him.

-Overall, he’s Santa but 10x more energetic (and 10x less old !!)

KENTO NANAMI

-Very traditional with Christmas (he isn’t allergic to fun dw!)

-Likes to walk with you around your neighbourhood just to check out Christmas lights whilst holding your hand tightly.

-Speaking of Christmas lights, he’ll have a few up but if you want more he’ll help (don’t go too mad with them though, he’ll sigh pretty loudly.)

-Gentlemen as always, makes sure you’re warm in cold weather.

-Thinks it’s the thought that counts but will put in effort to get a present he believes you’ll like.

-Best believe he’s taking a week or two off to celebrate with you, Jujutsu Tech can’t say shit to stop him.

-Prefers a Christmas where there’s a warm fireplace whilst you cuddle on a sofa with many blankets, probably watching something on tv.

-Overall, boyfriend behaviour to the max, your Christmas is gonna be the best ever.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

-This man doesn’t care for Christmas, let’s be honest.

-The only reason he makes any effort at all is because you want him to but that’s not gonna be tons, he’ll simply acknowledge winter and maybe a tiny thing about Christmas, if you’re lucky.

-Somehow convince him to go ice-skating with you, it’ll be an experience you certainly won’t ever forget.

-Gets into a fight if you make him queue for literally anything to do with Christmas spirit.. That guy just stepped on your foot, what did he expect with the king of curses right there? That he’d ignore it? Of course he wouldn’t, that guy surely wouldn’t mind loosing both of his feet, yeah? Well, Sukuna doesn’t have if he does, now he can’t step on your feet ever again.

-Refuses to watch any Christmas love movies so when you manage to convince him, you either hear disapproving grunts or outright complaints about the protagonist or love interest.

-He’s definitely not one for Christmas at all but a present for his partner is a present that needs to be perfect. He’ll get you whatever you want, might even humour you with wearing a Santa hat for a minute or so in private with you.

-He’s pretty grumpy but he’ll sit around on the counter and occasionally help with cooking Christmas cookies, if he feels like it.

-Throws snowballs with frozen ice inside at random kids and casually walks away.

-Overall, the grinch but one who’d steal all the presents and give them to his partner instead whilst killing those with stupid gifts..

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

-Megumi isn’t very excited but he does enjoy it, the break of this holiday admittedly being his favourite part.

-Not one to put lights up but he’s not gonna deny putting up some decorations inside if you’d like.

-Don’t bring him to a Christmas family gathering please..

-Would willingly ice-skate with you but he’s keeping close to the edge, he doesn’t want you or him falling.

-I can see him liking snow but he does remind you to keep warm every once in a while, sighing as he shrugs off the scarf Gojo had forced onto Megumi and instead placing it around your neck.

“It should still be warm, remember to bring one next time.”

-Keeps his eyes on yours discreetly as you past stores, looking for any interest shown on certain pieces in the window.

-Another one who holds your hand in the cold, it’s just something he’d deem as common sense at this point.

-Brings you to have dinner with his sister and him & it’s super sweet, Tsumiki loves you almost immediately due to the fact you’re his partner and that he’s not alone <3

-Overall, a sweetheart with lightly less effort than some but still sweet anyway.

YUJI ITADORI

-Yuji loves any holiday but Christmas definitely ignites something happy in him even more!

-Probably loves it half for the happiness he/others experience form it and also half because he gets presents..

-What can he say? It’s super cool to unwrap and then see this super cool thing he’d forgotten he realllyyy wanted like a month ago!!

-Down for anything to be honest, you name it and he wants to do it too.

-Making snow-angels is something he NEEDS to do any time it snows.

-Likes to decorate a nice tree inside and leave some lights outside & inside, though they’re actually pretty tame!

-Still does Christmas stockings, you can’t stop him from doing this ever.

-Not even confidently as he pulls the other side of a cracker and it pulls apart immediately.. he gets accused of cheating

-Used to be a massive fan of Christmas dinners at school so he’s definitely attempting and failing to make you one.

-Prefers to sit down and watch a movie together, preferably hugging and warm!!

-Overall, a Christmas not even Sukuna could steal (probably, anyway..)

@darlingofsatoru on Tumblr only, no reposts <3

[f1writingbyme]

I'm so excited for your Xmas calendar fic!!!! Can you share a snippet? 👀

I'm so happy to hear you're excited about the Christmas Calendar fic! @lestappenforever and I are just as excited to write and share it with you once it's done! 🧑🏻‍🎄🧑🏻‍🎄

Mona and I had a long talk about which part of the 30K+ (and counting) words we would share, and we have decided to stay true to our style, and make you laugh.

Snippet under the cut 👀

“This is a terrible idea,” the Dutchman insists even as he sits down on his own disc. “You know that, right?”

“Probably,” Charles agrees with a grin so wide Max imagines it must make his cheeks hurt. And Max is almost overwhelmed with the urge to lean in and kiss one of them. Or bite it. 

“But we’re doing it anyway?” Max goes on, hoping Charles will see the out for what it is and take it. 

He’s not surprised when Charles absolutely does not. 

“Yep!” the Monégasque says with excitement, and reaches between them to grab a hold of Max’s hand. “It’s lights out and away we go!”

With a bit of wiggling, Charles pushes his disc over the edge and, thanks to the hold on his hand, pulls Max on his disc with him. 

The children they’d watched go down the hill just a few minutes before didn’t move as fast as they do, but then again, Max and Charles also have significantly more weight giving the discs momentum to slide down the slippery hill. It’s surprisingly exhilarating and when Charles laughs and grips onto his hand tighter, Max can’t resist doing the same. And for a short, glorious moment, he feels nothing but pure joy and elation. 

Until the realization that Arthur is standing entirely too close at the bottom of the hill hits him at the exact same time as they both go barrelling into the man, knocking him off his feet.

Arthur lets out a shriek while Charles yells in surprise. Max, for his part, doesn’t get the chance to make much noise at all before he’s lying on his back with Arthur sprawled halfway across his torso and stomach. And Charles, thanks to his outright refusal to let go of Max’s hand throughout the entire ordeal, somehow ends up partially in Max’s lap, partially on top of his brother.

It’s an absolute mess of limbs and curses from the three of them, and laughter from the people watching on, as Max tries and fails to understand how he ever agreed to something that would eventually lead to him having not one, but two Leclercs sprawled on top of him. 

It doesn’t take long before Charles manages to stagger to his feet and helps pull Arthur up from Max and the ground. 

“Are you okay?” Charles asks once Arthur is out of the way, offering a hand for Max to take. 

His face is flushed red, and Max isn’t sure if it’s mostly because of embarrassment, or their crash landing into the youngest Leclerc brother. But there’s amusement shining in his eyes, bright even in the dim lights surrounding them in the Monte Carlo night. And Max so desperately wants to be annoyed because his back aches and there’s a painful twinge in his right knee, but it’s fucking impossible when Charles is looking at him like that, all delighted and beautiful and Charles. So, against his better judgment, Max takes the offered hand with a grunt. 

“I’m fine,” he mutters, allowing Charles to help pull him to his feet. Max glances at Arthur, who is scrambling to pick up the phone he dropped in the crash from the ground next to Max’s feet. “Are you okay?”

Arthur ignores him, frantically fumbling with his phone and muttering something in French under his breath. A few moments later, he holds his phone up in triumph, beaming at them. “Thank God, it kept filming!”

Max blinks, looking from Arthur to Charles, who is glaring daggers at his brother and looking like he’s plotting a very slow, very painful way to kill him in his sleep. Then his attention moves to the other side of the barrier, where Lorenzo is laughing so hard there are actual tears streaming down his face.

[lovebugism]

❛ i’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new to me. i love you. ❜ with our boy Steve Harrington please?

i wrote this after watching little women, so this is like that one laurie and amy scene but stranger things coded <3 hope you like it!! (this is 5k words btw and barely proofread 🫣)

The R.V. smells like coopery blood, alternate dimension muck, and nine teenagers who haven’t showered in three days. But despite all that, Steve Harrington is next to you, smiling. 

As if there’s anything worth being happy about now. 

He tells you about a dream with a hopeful gleam in his honey eyes, like he believes it’ll all come true — like death is staring him in the face. “I know it’s silly, but I… I always dreamed I’d have this really, really big family. I’m talking like, uh— a full brood of Harrington’s. I don’t know, five… Maybe six kids?”

“Six?” you repeat with an incredulous laugh. You turn your body in the passenger seat to face him more, shoulder pressing into the worn pleather. You’ve got your brows raised to your hairline in shock at his admission and a beam on your face you don’t realize is there.

“Uh-huh. Six little nuggets. Three girls, three boys,” he says with an assured nod. There’s a distant smile hinting at the edges of his lips, and he looks at you with it for a moment before turning back to the road again. 

“And every summer, I figured all of us Harrington’s, we’d pack into something like this, and… just see the country. You know, the Rockies, the Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone. We’d end up in some beachside town in California and spend a week parked in the sand, maybe learn how to surf or something.”

You can picture the dream so effortlessly, almost like it’s one you’ve had yourself. 

In some ways, you did.

Steve Harrington was the kind of boy that filled you with butterflies and childlike daydreams. It was more innocent than lusting, more significant than a teenage crush. There was a time you’d wanted to be with him so badly that you could barely breathe. It kept you up at night, fantasizing about a future with a boy that didn’t want you. It haunted your dreams just as often.

You were, perhaps a bit begrudgingly, a part of that stereotype — a girl who wanted all of the things adults thought girls wanted. You longed for a pretty white dress and a husband that cried when you walked down the aisle. You wanted a small house with a white picket fence, a home that’s always loud with laughing children and barking dogs and loving parents.

It was a future you only wanted with Steve.

But he didn’t love you. Not the way he loved Nancy.

Not the way he still loves Nancy.

It’s not a crime he needs to confess to for you to know he’s guilty of it. You can see it written all over his face, in the way he talks about his future family and flits his gaze from the winding backroad up to the rearview mirror to look at her. He’s picturing her in his head the way you picture him in yours.

Knowing someone else is a part of this dreamt-up family and not you is a bitter pill to swallow.

It has you looking back too, at the gang of ragtag soldiers you’re about to save the world with. You glance over your shoulder at all of them, finding them dozing or outright sleeping in the back of the R.V. 

You don’t blame them. The past few days have been hell.

You’re just glad Max has finally found a moment of peace. The redhead lazes between Lucas and Dustin on the couch in the very back. She rests her head on the former boy’s soldier, but you can’t tell if she’s sleeping or not. Lucas has his eyes closed but a smile on his face as he lays his cheek on the crown of her head.

Dustin, on the other hand, looks dreadfully out of place among the two lovebirds. His head is tilted back and his mouth is wide open. Soft snores spill from his throat.

Erica, Robin, and Nancy all sit at the tiny table beside the tinier kitchen. Their heads are either resting on their folded arms or pressing against the window.

The small cushion adjacent to the couch is taken up wholly by Eddie. 

Your Eddie.

His long legs are spread and his back is slouched against the side of the R.V. He’s taking up every bit of room the thing has to offer, which wasn’t very much to begin with. His pink lips are parted and slightly chapped. He blows soft exhales from them that make his chest rise and fall with even breaths. 

Your hands begin to ache with the want to run them through his wild strands of hair, to ease his head to your chest and let the sound of your heartbeat chase away the nightmares that threaten to plague him.

You want so badly to sleep alongside him, but you know that slumber won’t come as easily to you.

Despite the exhaustion that weighs down your tired bones, whenever you close your eyes, you can only see Chrissy’s mangled body on the ceiling of Eddie’s trailer. The image of broken bones and sucked-out eye sockets is stained on the back of your mind.

It’s something you’ll never forget. Not in a billion, trillion lifetimes.

You’re scared you won’t ever sleep peacefully again.

But you’re glad Eddie’s finally resting. Even if you can’t. 

And maybe that’s what love is.

…Love.

You almost can’t believe you’re calling it that. It’s not like you’ve told him as much or anything. You haven’t been together very long, only a few months, but you’re not sure what else to call this feeling. Is it normal for you to want to fight the most powerful dark wizard known to man with your bare hands as long as it means keeping Eddie safe?

The realization that you’re actually moving on from Steve is perhaps more shocking. You were starting to think you’d be fawning over him for the rest of your life, destined to be alone forever while he got married and had kids. But then Eddie came out of nowhere. He swept you off your feet without even trying.

You’d spent so much of your life in love with Steve that you’d forgotten how it felt to be loved. But Eddie reminded you, most ardently so, and you’ve never been happier.

And Steve can see all that.

He can see how you’ve gone to hell and back — quite literally — to keep Eddie safe. He can see how Eddie still manages to make you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, even though death looms overhead like a big, gray storm cloud. It almost makes him angry. Not at Eddie, exactly. And certainly not at you. He’s more so mad at himself for waiting until you were out of his grip entirely to need you like air.

Steve wasn’t an idiot; he knew how you felt about him. He’s known for years. But Nancy was the only girl in his purview for… an embarrassingly long amount of time. Maybe that’s because she didn’t want a single damn thing to do with him at first, and it wasn’t like Steve to back down from a challenge.

But you? You were easy. You were always going to be there. Your love was the only constant thing in his life.

And then it just… wasn’t.

It was like his center of gravity had suddenly shifted or his feet had been knocked out from under him. The loss of you, of something that was never his to begin with, jarred him like he’d been awake with most vigor. Now, he finds himself living in a nightmare — forced to watch you fall in love with someone else while he ebbs slowly from your mind.

You sit with him now — with Eddie — while he and Dustin fuck around with the shields they’d crafted out of tin garbage can lids. You watch them with a smile on your face even though you’re shaking your head at them and telling them something that Steve can’t hear. 

You’ve got a sword in your hand, and you sharpen its steel with a rock. The too expensive thing had been hanging on the wall at The War Zone, and you told Eddie you just had to have it. 

“I’ll just… take up extra shifts at Wayne’s shop,” you reason with a shrug, gaze never leaving the bladed weapon.

“Do whatever you want,” the brunette boy responded nonchalantly as he dropped four cases of ammunition into the red basket in your hand. He smiled down at you. “That just means I’ll get to see you more.”

It hurts Steve for you to be so far away from him. 

You’re just across the small clearing. All he’d have to do is walk over to you, really, but it’s more than just the distance. No matter how close he gets to you, or how far you get from Eddie, your soul’s always going to be with him. 

Steve will never have you like that, and that’s what hurts the most.

He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of keeping a stiff upper lip about it. He thinks he’s keeping some deep, dark secret, having no idea that he’s all but spilling his guts to Robin. Honestly, he’s just trying to make conversations while they make homemade bombs out of gasoline and glass bottles, but he’s more than obvious. As per usual.

“How long do you think they’ve got?” Steve asks her out of the blue while he pours the chemicals through the funnel and into the flask Robin holds out for him. He doesn’t wait for an answer. 

“Because I thought they’d be over forever ago, you know? I mean… it’s Eddie. She’s, like, totally out of his league, right? But I’m pretty sure they just had an anniversary or something because I saw him buying flowers at Bradley’s Big Buy the other day…”

Robin opens her mouth to get a word in, but Steve just keeps on going going going.

“Unless you think they were for someone else? But let’s be serious, right? He’s a freak, but he’d never do that to her. I don’t know… Maybe he’s just the sorta guy that gets her flower for no reason, and it hasn’t been as long as it feels.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they—”

“Let’s face it, if he’s doing that for her, they’re probably gonna make it, right?” the boy laughs bitterly to himself. He stuffs a rag into the neck of the bottle. “God, I’m such an idiot… Maybe if I’d done those things, I’d still—”

“I swear to god, if you say you’d still be with Nancy, I’m gonna punch you in the forehead,” Robin snapped suddenly. She’s got a foreign sternness to her tone and a glacial hardness in her blue eyes. She glares at him with it. “You don’t love Nancy, Steve. And she doesn’t love you. So stop going for the easiest thing when you know it’s not what you want.”

He sighs. He knows she’s right. “I just—”

“I get it. It sucks being lonely. I’m pretty sure I’m destined to spend the rest of my life alone, so join the club,” Robin smiles, a tad bit cynically, at him. “It sucks being in love with someone you can’t have. Trust me, I get it. But you need to move on.”

Steve swallows. He almost winces at the thought of that — of never having you. He shakes his head as though to get rid of the idea entirely. “I can’t… I can’t do that, Rob.”

“Then what are you gonna do, Steve?” she asks him with a mirthless, but not unkind laugh. 

She nods her head over to you. You laugh as Eddie spins you in his arms, both of you marveling at how you’ve just nailed a tree on the far edge of the clearing with the knives you’d thrown at it. Steve can hear the sound of your bubbly laughter from where he sits. Its brightness rivals that of the setting sun. 

“Look at her. She’s happy. Finally. So… Just let her be happy,” Robin advises with a shrug. She sets the glass bottle in the box with the rest of them. “I mean, we’re about to stop a dark wizard from ending the world, you know? Some of us probably won’t make it out—”

“Don’t say that,” Steve scolds.

“Some of us probably won’t make it,” she repeats, firmer this time, like it’s something he really needs to hear. “Something could happen to Eddie. Something could happen to her. Do you really want to be the selfish asshole that ruins what could very well be everyone’s last moments together just because you’ve got a bleeding heart?”

She’s being harsh. He knows it deserves it. Now is virtually the worst time to tell you everything on his mind — just when you’re starting to really settle down with Eddie and about to fight some wizard in an alternate dimension.

Something could happen to her. Those words left Robin’s mouth and stabbed him in the heart like a thousand unforgiving knives. Steve can’t fathom anything ever happening to you. Even with the end of the world, with all of you about to fight a war, it never crossed his mind. He can’t picture his life without you in it.

He can’t lose you without telling you how he feels — that he loves you, that he’s always loved you, and that he’s an oblivious idiot who learned that too late.

He can’t lose you at all.

So, against his better judgment and Robin’s sound advice, Steve abandons his work with her and hikes the relatively short distance over to you.

Eddie hasn’t yet let go of you. He keeps his arms tight around your waist and hugs you from behind, pressing the back of you to his chest while his chin sits along your shoulder. His chocolate eyes are stuck on the bullseye you’d carved into the bark of the tree on the far side of the clearing. The four knives you’d thrown, now stuck at the very center of the target, stare back at him.

“This is probably a bad time to be turned on, huh?” he half-jokes, chin bobbing against your shoulder with every word.

“Eddie!” you scold as you wrench yourself out of his grip.

Dustin’s face screws up from where he lounges on the grass beside the both of you. “Gross…” 

You walk away from the two boys to collect your knives from the poor oak tree. Eddie whistles lowly at you while you go — as though he’s never seen you in a pair of jeans before. You throw your middle finger over your shoulder at him in response.

That’s when Steve catches you, when you’re finally alone, and with a tiny white lie of needing to go back to the R.V. for more gasoline. You offer to walk with him, just like he figured you might, because none of you wants anyone to go off alone. Not with Vecna potentially watching you.

You walk alongside him through the thick wood, dodging low-hanging branches and uplifted roots. Steve notices the distant smile dancing on the corners of your lips — a beautiful stain Eddie’s left there.

“What are you gonna do?” he asks you suddenly. “You know, when this is all over?”

Your brows raise at his question, mouth falling softly agape and eyes widening with a far-off look. You look stumped by the simple inquiry, like it’s something you hadn’t thought of yet — of any of this being over.

“I don’t know…” you murmur. “Go back to work, I guess.”

Steve laughs. “We’re gonna save the world tonight, and you’re gonna be back in the office on Monday?”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll take a sick day,” you joke, just to hear him laugh again.

He lifts a splintered tree limb to get it out of the way for you, then ushers you to walk ahead of him. You mutter a low and shy “thank you” as you walk beneath it. He lets the branch fall again as he follows behind you.

“What about you, then?” you retort. “What are you gonna do after? Since going back to a nine-to-five is so unreasonable.”

“Actually, I was thinking about writing an opera,” Steve quips with a straight face. “I would be the main character, of course—”

“You’re such an idiot,” you giggle with the shake of your head. The airy, sunshine sound makes him smile down at you. His honey-tined gaze swims with longing. You don’t catch it because you’re not looking back at him.

“What do you want me to do, then?”

You tilt your head to catch his stare. Your eyes sparkle and your brows arch with a look both soft and stern. “Honest answer?”

“Of course.”

“I think you should go work for your dad. Try and… I don’t know… make something for yourself—”

“Alright, that’s not…”

“—Because you can’t work at Family Video forever, Steve!”

“You’re not playing fair,” he concedes quietly, laughing under his breath and shaking his head.

He shouldn’t have expected anything less — you did preface an honest answer, after all. It doesn’t make him feel any less bad about it, though.

You’d supported Steve through a lot of shit. Every mindless fight with his parents, every breakup that had him swearing he would never love again, every aspect of his douchebag phase that almost ruined your friendship. You were always soft with him, but never dishonest.

So when he told you that his dad offered him a well-paying job in Indianapolis, it didn’t surprise him when you told him to take it. Despite all the other shit (his broken relationship with his father and his incessant daydreaming of settling down with Nancy, namely), you knew he wasn’t happy in Hawkins.

“Fuck your dad, Steve. This isn’t about him,” you’d said. “You should take it! Starting building your life in the city! And when you’re finally making more money than your stupid dad, you can rub it in everyone’s stupid faces.”

Steve, of course, ended up turning it down.

The salary was high — too high for a boy just out of high school — but he figured no amount of money was worth a wounded pride. 

Steve was scared that it was all a ploy, another thing his dad could hold over his head, another accomplishment that wasn’t really his. And, truth be told, he was less enthusiastic about leaving Hawkins without you. He isn’t quite sure where he’d be in life without you guiding him through a significant portion of it. It made it nearly impossible to picture a life that didn’t have you at the very center of it.

He happily took to be Robin Buckley’s schmuck at Scoops Ahoy (and then again at Family Video) and Dustin Henderson’s unofficial chauffeur instead. He didn’t mind being a casualty of rattrap small town as long as it meant he didn’t have to stray too far from you.

But here you were now, right next to him in this lonesome forest, and still so far away.

You meet his boyishly forlorn expression with a sincere, tight-lipped smile. “You know that I’m right.”

“Yeah, I do,” he scoffs in response. “That’s the problem.”

“When we kill Vecna and save Hawkins for the… thousandth time… You should take that job. I mean, screw your dad, you deserve a life outside of all this shit—”

“So do you,” he argues.

“I’ll make it without you, Harrington. I’ll try to, anyway,” you quip, turning your gaze up to the family of birds sitting high in an oak tree and wishing you were one of them. You shrug to yourself. “I’ll keep on being a secretary at the car shop… Maybe settle down with Eddie.”

That makes Steve stop dead in his tracks. He laughs bitterly to himself, a quiet and venom-coated scoff. “Right. Because living with his uncle in a one-bedroom trailer is such a dream.”

It makes you stop, too, and turn on your heel to face him. You’re surprised to find him so many paces back. Steve sees a flash of hurt strike like lightning across your features, but he’s too hurt to apologize.

“I get it,” you concede with a small, cynical smile. “You don’t like him. You never have. But… He’s a good guy, Steve. If you just got to know him—”

“It’s not that,” he mumbles, cutting you off before he has to suffer through a list of reasons why Eddie’s so much better than he is. The boy’s gaze falls to the forest floor. He kicks a bunch of green pine needles with the toe of his sneaker rather than meet your prying gaze.

“Then what is it?” you retort. “Because I was just trying to help you. I didn’t say to, like, hurt your feelings or whatever. I just know that you want a life in the city, with a big house and a whole bunch of kids—” A laugh spills from your lips as you remember the dream he was telling you about. “You want that picture-perfect life, right? Now you can have it!”

“You don’t know what I want,” he counters quietly.

“Oh, please. I know you better than you know yourself, Steve Harrington—”

“Break up with him,” he blurts.

Your playful smile fades almost instantly. Your eyes search his face for any hint that he might be joking, but all you find is a deeply heartbroken boy. His bushy brows are scrunched together, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears, a puppy-like hurt painting each of his features.

You match his expression of grief with your own. Your face scrunches with a mixture of confusion and sorrow. “Wh… What?” you manage to stutter after realizing you’d been holding your breath.

“I don’t want you to settle down with Eddie,” Steve confesses. A secret he thought he’d take to his grave before ever telling you.

You’re quiet. For several long moments, you’re eerily silent. Even the forest hangs on bated breath. Birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, leaves stop rustling. It’s just you and him and a great big world waiting on the both of you.

A frown pulls down the very corners of your mouth. Your eyes go glassy and wide, like a heartbroken baby, and your head jerks back softly, still defensive and unsure.

“Why?” you force through a tightening throat.

“Why?” Steve repeats, finding it somehow within himself to laugh. He takes several short strides to stand with you again. With him closer now, you can see the sadness in his smile and the flush that blotches his cheeks. “You know why…”

You only shake your head in response. The words are far harder to get out. “No…”

“I just… I know it feels like I’m saying it all of a sudden, but it’s… It’s not new to me, you know?” Steve tries his best to explain to you why he’s choosing now, of all moments, to pour his heart out to you. His eyes are as wide and hopeful as the palms he waves out in front of him. “I don’t wanna go into this without you knowing how I feel about you—” 

“Steve,” you agonize in hopes of ending his rambling. “Don’t.”

“—And I just want you to know, in case something happens, that I love you.”

“No,” you say with the defiant shake of your head, your chin quivering and your gaze ice-cold.

“Yes,” he replies, just as stubborn.

“Steve…” you choke out when the name gets hung in your throat. 

A warm tear falls from your lashes and onto the very apple of your cheek. You wipe it away with the back of your hand and use your free one to bat Steve away when he tries to reach out for you. You stumble back from him, heading back the way you came — back to Eddie.

“Don’t, Steve. Just stop it.”

“Why?” he grieves in the softest voice he can muster, wet and warm with his hurt.

“You’re being mean,” you scold.

“I’m being mean?” he echoes with a sad sort of laugh.

“When it comes to you… I have always been second to Nancy. Always. And I won’t be the person you settle for just because she doesn’t want you, Steve,” you rant, voice fragile like glass or flower petals. 

He wants to tell you that he doesn’t want Nancy — that being with the person he loves won’t be settling — but you continue in your lament, and he misses the chance.

“I can’t… I won’t do it, okay? Not after I’ve spent my entire life loving you,” you confess to him, face scrunched in anger. It’s a subtle sort of rage, pointed both at him and yourself.

He watches, feeling totally helpless, while you wipe bitterly at your damp cheeks. Steve’s seen a lot of assholes make you cry. He never dreamed he’d be one of them. 

Robin was right. He’d ruined everything. It seems to be the only thing he’s good at these days.

“I’m sorry,” he calls to you as you walk away. “I wasn’t… I didn’t say it to make you sad.”

“You shouldn’t have said it at all!” you shout back, angrier than you’ve ever been with him. You take in a stuttering breath and exhale a shakier sigh, trying to calm yourself down again. “I just don’t get why you waited so long…” you agonize, words wet with tears. “Why did you wait until I was happy? Eddie… Eddie’s so nice to me, Steve. And you just… You just throw this shit at me right before we... That’s not fair.”

“I know…” he murmurs. “I know…”

The world starts turning again. 

Birds sing their songs, sounding somehow sadder than before, as though in lament for the brokenhearted boy. The wind begins to whistle as it brushes through the trees. It’s only half successful in breathing air back into your lungs.

A rustling of the brush gains both of your attention’s. It sounds like something is slithering somewhere in the thick laurel — a rabbit, a snake, a dark wizard out to kill a bunch of sad teenagers. 

You and Steve are alone, heartbroken, and clear targets for a monster who feeds on traumatized kids.

Though it’s entirely unlikely that Vecna has crawled out from the depths of the Upside Down and into these woods, you and Steve reach for your respective weapons anyway — him for the axe strapped to his back and you for the knives hanging on your belt. You’re ready to protect each other despite your distant anger.

But instead of some shriveled skin creep, you find freaks of a different kind.

The pale human faces of Dustin and Eddie peek out from the brush with curious smiles. They maneuver through the thicket and try to avoid the thorns. “What’s going on over here, huh?” the oldest boy wonders with his signature sparkling grin.

It’s almost scary how you so easily contort your features full of grief into a sickly sweet, artificial smile. You swipe the back of your hand over your face again to clear the tears clinging to your lashes, though it looks like you’re only wiping away sweat.

“Nothing,” you answer quickly with the innocent shake of your head. “Steve was just being an idiot—”

“Imagine that,” Dustin scoffs.

“—And saying stuff he doesn’t mean.”

“That’s not true,” Steve mutters, then clears his throat when the words come out more choked than expected.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t out here making moves on my girl, Harrington,” Eddie lilts with a playful smile. He reaches you and wraps a heavy arm over your shoulder to tuck you into his side. 

His sudden touches stopped surprising you a long time ago. You realized early on in your relationship that he can’t go without touching you for very long.

Eddie squints teasingly at Steve. “Go get your own.”

The boy doesn’t have a comeback at the ready. He isn’t sure of what to say, anyway. Eddie’s jokes aren’t as funny when they aren’t jokesanymore. He was just sort of professing his love to you and getting his heart stomped on in the process. He should probably be used to the feeling by now, but it stings like it’s brand new.

You’re grateful for Eddie’s appearance and the bickering that seems to follow him wherever he goes. It’s easy to get lost in his words, let all the sarcasm run over you, and forget the bullshit that came before it.

“We should head back before the others think we got abducted by Vecna or something,” you urge, desperate to get away from these woods and from this moment.

Dustin listens to you without question because he always listens to you. And Steve listens because he wants an escape just as much as you do. He’d rather go back to Robin and all her “I told you so”’s than keep watching Eddie hold you like he is now.

“What do ya say we skip this joint and have our own fun out here?” the wild-haired boy jokes, already leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth.

“Eddie, don’t—” you huff, but otherwise don’t fight him. It’s only an innocent peck, a loud smack upon your lips, that makes Dustin mutter “gross…” under his breath as he walks away. 

And if he heard it, that means Steve heard it.

You keep your eyes open all the while. You feel a bit numb, actually. A little like you’ve just kissed a ghost. You feel as cold as one, as distant and not all there. Eddie holds your hand the entire walk back to the clearing, but you have a hard time feeling it.

You feel a bit like woods surrounding you. You’re all crowded and heavy with sadness. You can’t tell if your grief is your own or if you’re feeling Steve’s too, because you can’t seem to take your eyes off him.

There’s an entire forest within you, you find, and Steve’s carved his initials into every tree.

[thearchercore]

As a Lando fan, but first and foremost a Max and Charles fan, I’m quite disappointed in Lando. It’s true what they say, not everyone is happy when you are on top and your real friends show their true colours.

You are right, Max says what he thinks and never filters it. While Charles is a PR King (let’s be honest he’s more of a princess but that’s besides the point) but never once has he thrown shade at Max since they became friends (at least not that I know of)

Now, Daniel is not, has never been and will never be someone about him. Nothing against him, just vibes. But the fact that Max has held him so dear and close to his heart and he goes ahead and throws major shade at Max when Max was being nothing but honest at Vegas then makes sure to hang out with Lando during Winter break the other driver who is Max’s publicly known bestie on the grid (I mean the man even attends P’s birthday parties) anyway I digress. It’s just outright shady and childish.

Max is on another level and not everyone will understand that. True friendship should withstand such challenges. Of course anyone would be jealous and intimidated by such dominance and success but to deny the man like Peter denying Jesus infront of the crowd is just sad. I mean c’mon, did he mean it as a joke? Also was Daniel attempting humour? It’s possible but I can’t see someone like Charles making such weird comments. Even when they were beefing, Charles made it known that him and Max are okay and even though they are not best friends their relationship or hang out outside the paddock (back then things are different now) he still loved racing against Max because they understood each other and how they raced.

It’s actually petty for grown men to belittle their friend because of his success. But what do I know, the sport destroyed a childhood friendship (Nico + Lewis) Maybe only the realest and toughest friendships survive. Viva Charles and Max (whether you ship them or as friends) it’s real and they are always rooting for each other.

Sorry this got long.

yeah, i feel like the difference between daniel's current place in f1 and max's is playing a significant factor. again, max joined RBR when he was essentially still a teenager that was battling with puberty. daniel was there as the mature driver that max looked up to.

now, fast forward to 2024, daniel is fighting for his last chance at f1 after many unsuccessful team moves, and max is much more mature and has 3 WDC titles under his belt. that certainly changes things.

so i'm sure that if for whatever reason rbr kicks out checo and daniel jumps in, their dynamic would be different.

lando, on the other hand, is a different story. @tsarinablogs had a great post where someone suggested "I think Lando couldnt handle his car actually being competitive. Thats what weakened their friendship. It’s easy to be friends when you are driving a slow car, but then the car actually got competitive and he still couldnt beat Max."

again, the truth is -- f1 is a highly competitive environment and everyone will fight for themselves first without a doubt. that's what's happening with daniel and lando. daniel wants that red bull seat, lando wants to beat max. and that is going to be their priority over whatever friendly relationship they may have with max.

on the other hand, there are only 20 drivers in f1 so you have 20 other co-workers who share the same experiences as you. so you will always be closer to them than anyone else because no one would get you that well.

i think what works well currently between max and charles is that no matter how much media tried to put them against each other, they alway showed mutual respect to each other. charles never talked shit about max in press, and the overall vibe they have going on recently is that charles is happy for max's success, and is working hard to gain his own. also their actions speak a lot -- like charles' putting aside ferrari's questionable qatar strategy and rushing to congratulate max on his WDC. or max running to charles to apologise for his mistake in vegas.

their relationship doesn't seem to be definined by their racing results, and their joint racing history also makes them more equal in their own eyes than other drivers.

[wander-wren]

here’s my thing about proshipping, particularly in regards to the “well you can write that stuff to process trauma, but don’t fucking post it” argument. and i’m really just repeating what many, many others have said, but bear with me.

i don’t have sexual trauma (which is, 99% of the time, what this argument is about), so i can’t speak to that directly, but i do have traumas and coping mechanisms that some people think weird or off-putting or gross. i’m also someone who needs to talk about things with some kind of audience in order to process, whether that’s my therapist or my friends or—get this—fanfic readers. often, all three! max processing, baby!

but i’ve had people avoid responding when i bring certain things up, or outright say they can talk to me about some of my ~problems~, but not Those Ones. which is fine on its face, everyone is entitled to boundaries and in many cases they may simply not know what to say.

but it is deeply isolating to feel like there is a part of you unfit for public view. especially a part of you that you still want (need) to talk about in order to come to terms with it. so i can only imagine how it feels for some of the people arguments like these are attacking.

as long as there are warnings (and YES, “choose not to warn” is, in itself, adequate warning), there is no reason why any aspect of the human experience should have to be permanently hidden and undiscussed, no matter how uncomfortable its existence might make some random on the internet.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Two: Safe From Heartbreak

The Pariahs That Saved The World [Masterlist]

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: nothing overtly horrible happening, mention of a funeral, mention of Victor Creel's appearance, canon-typical chapter here folks

[A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone supporting this story and I really hope I don't disappoint everyone. I am restricting myself to one chapter each week mostly because I really need the rest huns, it's been stressful lately x Anyways, enjoy this lengthy chapter of queer adorableness &lt;;3]

Safe From Heartbreak

“You brought her?!”

Steve’s concern was met with Robin’s innocent smile, raising her hands to sheepishly shrug. It wasn’t as if he could do anything about it; you were stood right there with that familiar scowl you reserved just for him.

Robin wasn’t sure how people were going to react when they found out she had gone and begged you to help them. There was a small but vital discussion about it before she decided to break all those rules. But she knew you had to be here.

“What did we say about making her do this? She didn’t wanna come.” Steve whispers at her, but the room was too small for privacy.

“Firstly, she is right here.” You say, folding your arms. “Secondly, Robin didn’t make me do anything. I’m here to help.”

“What made you change your mind?” Nancy speaks up from where she sat beside Lucas. You felt a pang of guilt when you remembered how you spoke to her last time. You had expressed your outright refusal to be a part of this and here you were, contradicting your own words.

“We all have people we need to protect, right?” You say quietly, avoiding her piercing eyes.

Steve runs a hand down his face as he sighs in defeat, relaxing his shoulders. You watch how his eyes dart to the corner and you look over, heart wrenching at the sight of Max staring back at you. She smiles, so you walk over with Robin’s gaze unknowingly fixed on your back.

“I’m gonna grab some drinks.” Nancy sighs, setting down the remnants of your old project folder. “Anyone want anything?”

“Some water?” Lucas asks and she nods, leaving the room in silence.

“Does she seem alright to you?” Steve asks, a soft frown on his face as he looks up the staircase.

“Why are you so worried, Steve?” Dustin speaks up with a mocking tone in his voice. Steve throws him a glare.

“Because we’re dealing with a mind wizard, asshole.” He grumbles and Robin laughs. He sends a pointed look, lowering his voice. “You’re one to joke.”

“Huh?” She questions and he gently pulls her aside, quickly checking that everyone else was occupied. You and Max were deep in whispered conversation while Lucas and Dustin weren’t so quiet, rambling on about Vecna and the possibilities for defeat.

“I know what’s been going on.” Steve reiterates and Robin scrunches her face.

“Well you wanna tell me, or is it a secret?” She jokes and he suppresses a smile. “Come on, what?”

“Y/n.” He says and she raises her eyebrow, automatically looking to where you sat beside Max, smiling at something the girl was saying.

“You like her.”

Her stomach drops, head whipping back to where Steve stood with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What?” Her eyes widen, looking flustered. She glances back over to you again, watching you laugh. “I- no. No, that’s not what’s happening.”

“Uh-huh.” He waggles his eyebrows, nudging her. “You’re not fooling me. You literally can’t take your eyes off her.”

“That’s not- I’m not.” She huffed, squeezing her eyes shut. “That’s not why I’m watching- wait, when did we move to making fun of my love life?”

“So it is a love life problem.” He points out and she shuts her mouth.

“I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Thank god.”

Robin attempts to speak, opening and closing her mouth until she huffs in frustrated defeat, storming away.

As Max turns away from you to continue working on her writing, you place a hand on her shoulder in silent goodbye and walk over to Steve, raising your eyebrow.

“I see you haven’t lost your effect on women.” You comment, head nodding to the staircase.

“Ha ha.” Steve rolls his eyes.

When he doesn’t continue speaking, you assume he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore. It made sense. You had ended the idea of friendship between you both horribly, warping his feeling for you into a reason of hatred. It was a long time ago now, but you still regret what you did when you see that look on his face.

As you move away, his soft grip suddenly reaches out and pulls you back, surprising you.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He sounded genuine, throwing you off guard as you blink up at him. With a sigh, he’s running a hand through his hair. He always did that when he was nervous. “You didn’t… you didn’t speak to us before you left last year.”

“I’m…” You start, frowning. You didn’t speak to us before you left last year… Bullshit. “Yeah, I’m fine. Looking forward to getting rid of this Vecna guy, anyway.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, looking over to the corner. “Thanks for helping. I know Max really appreciates it. You guys were always close.”

“I’d do anything for her.” You admit, nodding furiously. Your mouth suddenly feels dry and you look around. “Wasn’t Nancy getting water?”

“Yeah, I’m getting seriously thirsty right now.” Lucas mumbles, groaning when he notices all the information he has to cover on the table in front of him.

“She and Robin are probably chatting about girl stuff.” Dustin shrugs and you tilt your head.

“Girl stuff. Really?”

“I don’t know.” He raises his hands in surrender and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll go see where they are.”

Part of you was glad you could escape that basement for a moment. In no means did it feel crowded space-wise, but having these people stare at you felt suffocating. You could physically feel them trying to solve you like a jigsaw puzzle, wondering why you came back, why you were truly here. Why you left.

The distinct sound of Robin’s voice radiated from the kitchen, pulling you towards the room before you realised your feet were taking you closer. You poke your head around the corner to see her standing by the kitchen island in conversation with Karen, eyes light as she expresses gratitude for letting them be here.

“Anytime. I like having a full house.” Karen says, smiling and grabbing her purse. “I am just running out, let Nancy know I’ve left.”

“Will do.” Robin salutes, making the older woman laugh.

“Hey, hon.” Karen coos as she walks past you and Robin whips her head to where you’re leant against the door frame, a sad smile plastered across your face.

She feels terrible. Maybe Steve was right; she shouldn’t have dragged you into this. But it was too late now.

“So, Mrs Wheeler seems to like you.” You comment, the sadness breaking into genuine amusement and Robin shrugs.

“I get along with adults more than people my own age. Minus my own parents.” She states, and your face drops. You try to mask it, brushing imaginary dirt from your jeans so you could duck your head. But Robin caught it. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You sigh, gently closing your eyes for a moment before you walk over to her, leaning over the counter top. “It just feels weird to be back.”

“Sorry I dragged you here.” She says with a small voice and you look up at her, frowning.

“Robin, I meant what I said. You didn’t make me do anything.”

She dismisses it with the flick of her hand, looking unconvinced.

“Seriously.” You chuckle slightly, clasping your hands together for something to look at, leaning toward her as she sat down at a stool and rested her elbow on the surface. “I was gonna leave, like I originally planned. I’m only here for my grandad’s funeral. But… I can’t just leave when something dangerous is happening. I can’t leave Gran alone in Hawkins- I definitely can’t leave Max knowing that I did nothing to try and help.”

“I’m sorry about your grandad.” Robin smiles sympathetically, “Nancy didn’t mention that.”

“No one really knows.” You explain, resting your hand on your chin, matching her stance. “It wasn’t anything supernatural, you know? Just health… we knew it was going to happen for a while. My gran wants to keep it on the down low, have an intimate funeral. People will only bother her if she tells everyone.”

“She sounds like she knows what she’s doing.” She says and you laugh, nodding.

“She’s pretty great. Talks too much for her own good sometimes but I love that about her.”

Robin appears surprised, a hesitant spark in her eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” You smile, brows furrowed. “I think conversations like that are so much better. It’s… it’s expressive. There aren’t really any rules, we’re not restricting our thoughts because we are too afraid of being a burden. You can learn so much from someone when they talk like that. I really admire it.”

You look up to her flushed cheeks just in time to see her adjust her posture so the fabric of her sleeve hides the pink creeping up. You try and stop a smile, but it was useless. She looked really cute.

Robin was more than a little flustered now. She didn’t know why, but your words hit her like a tank carrying stone, 100mph, no survivors. She’s never had anyone tolerate her habit before let alone admire it. Steve might be right. Not that she’d ever say anything.

“Robin?” Your voice snaps her back into reality, eyes looking back into yours.

“Yeah?”

“I-”

The kitchen door swings open and you both whip your heads to the entrance, watching Nancy take a deep breath.

“Wait, weren’t you getting drinks?” You point between her and the tap, your original thoughts long forgotten now.

“I got distracted.” She states, reaching into the cupboard and pulling out two glasses. “I tried calling Jonathan but- it doesn’t matter. I can’t help thinking Victor Creel has to be connected. Like, really connected. None of those reports were giving any reason as to why Vecna didn’t kill him in the first place. We’re missing something. Something big.”

“Why don’t we just talk to Victor?” Robin suggests and Nancy lets out a breathy laugh, filling up a glass with water before shutting the tap off quickly, spinning around to face her.

“He’s- he’s locked up at Pennhurst, remember? Unless we’re family or some kind of authority, we’re not getting in to see him.”

Robin closes her mouth and thins her lips. “You’re right, that’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” You interject, glancing between them. “I know a way we can speak to him.”

“You got his number or something?” Robin quips and you fight a smile.

“I tried asking Pennhurst if I could speak with him last time. I rang them up and they told me I wouldn’t be allowed to see him unless I had permission from the director.” You explain, combing back through your memory. “Of course, they wouldn’t even let me get an appointment because I was just some stupid kid who was probably wasting their time trying to tell ghost stories.”

“What does this have to do with talking to Victor?” Robin redirects your thoughts and you clear your throat.

“When they went to hang up, I asked who the director would actually speak to. I was just trying to keep them talking so I could maybe convince them. They told me he would only take appointments with people serious about their future… and, yeah, they hung up.”

“Serious about their future?” Nancy prompts.

“Psych majors.” You say and her eyes light up. “They definitely won’t let us see Victor right away, but I guarantee we can get an appointment with the director if we were the type of students he’d want to see. Maybe-”

“Maybe we can persuade him to let us study him.” Nancy finishes and you snap your fingers, nodding. The drinks were since abandoned now, her fingers drumming against the kitchen island surface.

“Okay, and how are we meant to convince them we’re psych majors?” Robin asks, frowning. “I doubt they’re gonna let us walk in without some kind of proof, right?”

“We fake it.” Nancy nods enthusiastically. “It’s easy to create false identification these days, and I have the perfect place to do it.”

She’s already headed out into the hallway before Robin shrugs.

“Nancy committing a crime? I gotta see this.” She comments and you smile, following her out with a jolt of excitement in your chest.

You weren’t sure if that excitement was conclusive to the thrill of the investigation, or the eagerness you felt to spend time with the new friend you couldn’t stop thinking about.

“How long does it take you guys get some water?” Steve questions as you all come rushing down the stairs. Lucas frowns when he notices you were holding files instead of glasses.

“Okay, so…” Nancy breathes out with a smile, looking at you both either side of her. “We have a plan.”

“Thanks to Nancy’s newspaper minions, and Y/n’s incredible investigative skills, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame.” Robin says as everyone flicks through the files you whipped up, a smile creeping onto her lips for mentioning you. You weren’t ever given praise for your help in this group before.

“I’m now Ruth.” Nancy nods, looking at you.

“Elizabeth.” You raise your hand.

“And I’m Rose.” Robin announces.

“Ruth?” Steve raises a brow at Nancy and she shrugs.

“Nice GPA.” Dustin looks up at you with raised brows.

“I do my best.” You reply, earning a smile.

“So, we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we’re writing on paranoid schizophrenics-”

“To which they said no. Just like Y/n said they would.” Robin comments, glaring at Steve when he sends her a look.

“But we landed a three o’clock with the director.” You finish, crossing your arms. “We just need to, well, charm him into letting us speak to Victor.”

“And maybe we can rid Max of this curse.” Nancy says, and you nod slowly.

“Yeah, uh, about that.” Steve glances over his shoulder before leaning forward, gesturing to the scattered pieces of paper from your folder. “We’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh… we got some questions.”

“Lots of questions.” Lucas agrees.

“So do we.” Nancy states, shaking her head. “Hopefully, Victor has the answers.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second. Uh…” He shuffles through the three folders in his hands, shaking his head. “Where’s mine?”

The three of you share silent looks, Robin’s face twisting with indecision on what expression to make while Nancy struggles to answer.

“It doesn’t exist.” You finally say and he looks at you in shock. “What? We only made three. Unless you wanna be called Elizabeth…”

“What-”

“We should actually be getting ready.” Nancy cuts off his argument, standing up and nodding at you both.

Max turns in her seat and you send her a little salute, her own one sent back in return as you and Robin move to follow Nancy up the stairs. Steve cuts you off, and you see Nancy quicken her steps.

“That’s, uh… that’s not a thing again, is it?” You ask the girl beside you and she scoffs.

“A thing? No. Complete and utter nonsense? Absolutely.” She replies and you sigh, following their footsteps until it led you into Nancy’s bedroom.

“Nancy, you’re outta your mind if you think I’m babysitting again.” Steve whined while you and Robin roll your eyes, smirking at eachother.

“Okay, first of all, they’re not babies anymore.” Nancy says and he scoffs. “And Max is in real danger, she needs people around her.”

“I know, but why does it always have to be me?”

“Maybe because you still act like a child. You fit right in.” You offer with a smile and he squints his eyes.

“I liked it better when you weren’t here.”

“Oh, I’m touched.”

“Oh my god, you have a Tom Cruise poster.” Robin gawks as she enters the pink room, turning back with a suggestive grin. “You have a Tom Cruise poster.”

“That’s… old.” Nancy defends and you smile.

“Didn’t you used to kiss him every nigh-” You start but she cuts you off.

“I was twelve! That was… God, can you please not touch anything?” Nancy begs Robin, but the light brunette ignores her.

“I just- I can’t do anything here, Nance. Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude.” Steve continues his failed attempt at joining your mission.

You perch yourself on the bed, smirking at Robin whenever she turns in awe to show you girly trinkets.

“I don’t know, I could, like, turn on my… my charm.”

“Not the kind of charm we need.” Nancy comments and Steve blinks.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, last I checked that other charm didn’t work either.” Robin calls out and Steve purses his lips, resting his hands on his hips.

“Okay, double ouch.”

“No, I just…” Nancy sighs, “Look, Y/n and I did a little digging and it turns out this Dr. Hatch…”

As Nancy tries to dig herself out of her hole, Robin points to her dresser and you move with her, slightly intrigued to know what she had found. She starts moving around books and paper until she picks up a small necklace, scanning the desk. You assume she’s looking for some place to store it and you pick up the box closest to you, assuming it was for jewellery. Robin nods and you both widen your eyes when it turns out it’s not a jewellery box, instead letting out a soft melody. You hadn’t seen one of these in years.

“… that, like him, we are true academic scholars.” Nancy ends her argument, focusing back on looking through her closet.

Robin takes the music box from your hands and turns to Steve, whispering. “Holy shit, there’s a little ballerina in here.”

You let out a giggle and Steve turns back to Nancy, unconvinced.

“Academic scholar?” His hand points to you. “They’re giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah.”

“No, but… they will.”

You both turn around to see what Nancy was implying to find her holding two of the ugliest outfits you’ve seen, nothing like the comfortable clothes you opt to wear for your daily life.

“Oh, please tell me you’re joking.” Robin cringes and you place a hand on her shoulder, pulling a face.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

Steve laughs, tilting his head at the assortment of pink and baby blue hanging from Nancy’s hands.

“Well, if I’m not going then can I ask for one very important thing?” He prompts and Nancy nods unknowingly.

He glances between you and Robin, smirking. “Take lots of photos.”

Robin reaches across the bed and acquires a pillow, throwing it at Steve’s head who merely ducks his way out the door frame, still laughing.

“Can I not just wear black? Is that not respectable?” You practically beg, holding the outfit she thrust into your arms like it was a ticking time bomb.

“I don’t have black.” Nancy shrugs, “Other than an old funeral outfit.”

Your face falls and you sigh, looking down at it with an intense stare.

“What are you doing?” Robin frowns, refusing to touch her clothes.

“Maybe if I squint hard enough, it’ll look better.” You say and Nancy sounds out a protest.

“Hey, these are my real clothes, remember?”

“And they look good on you.” You say, Robin nodding along with you. “But only you. Not me.”

“Definitely not me.” Robin agrees but Nancy smirks.

“Well, you don’t have a choice.” She says as she walks out of the room. “Be ready in 10!”

She leaves you and Robin stood there holding clothes you hoped never to be seen dead in, disgust etched into your features.

“It’s just, what, an hour? Two at most?” Robin tries to convince herself, comparing the shirt on her body. “God, it even looks uncomfortable.”

“Let’s just get it over with.” You sigh, pulling off your jumper and throwing it on the bed when you realise Robin’s staring at you, that familiar red tint on her cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing.” She looks away, lips tight. Your eyes widen.

“Shit, sorry, I can go change in the bathroom-”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m not uncomfortable, I-” She takes a deep breath. “Anyone can walk into the bathroom, we’ll just… yeah, we’ll just change here.”

She walks around to the other side of the bed, slipping off her shoes. When she starts to fiddle with her own jumper, you both immediately turn around to face away from eachother for some privacy.

You felt tense as you strip away your clothes to pull on Nancy’s ones, and you weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad feeling. You had only known Robin a little over a day maybe, but you haven’t felt so comfortable around someone for a while, not since… not since Starcourt, the hospital. Maybe…

No, you think to yourself, strapping on the heels that felt just a little too tight, I can’t let myself think that.

Robin was a friend, maybe not even that at the moment. And you don’t actually know her well enough to out yourself as a pariah.

“How are you feeling?” Robin calls out with your backs still turned, fiddling with some buttons. God, she hated this. The outfit, not you. Fuck.

She notices your hesitation, making her straighten up from where she sat perched on the edge of Nancy’s bed.

“About what?” You ask and she frowns.

“I don’t know… in general, I guess?”

“I’m… fine. A little weird that I’m wearing so much pink right now but, other than that, I’m okay.” You respond and she slowly nods, reaching down to slip on shoes. Ugh, heels. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah.” Robin says, standing up and immediately trying to find her balance. She wasn’t sure she could pull this off. “A little bit spooked, I guess, but hey, it’s Hawkins, what else is new?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Turn on the count of three?” Robin suggests and you agree. “One. Two. Three.”

You both spin around and immediately pause, taking in the new looks of the girls who definitely despised their clothes.

“We look ridiculous.” Robin blinks, turning to the mirror and gasping.

“I feel ridiculous.” You mumble, shifting the skirt that dug into your waist. Robin points to her reflection in horror and you shake your head.

“I don’t even want to know what I look like. I like ignorance.” You decide, walking over to the door. “Let’s go find Nancy and get out of here before anyone else-”

You open the door to find Steve, Dustin, and Nancy patiently waiting on the other side, staring back at you. Nancy gives a nod of approval, Dustin twists his face in horror and Steve starts grinning.

“What?” Robin asks as she joins you, eyes widening.

There was a sudden snap and you glare at Steve, the boy lowering his hand and hiding the disposable camera behind him.

“Have fun.” He says before dragging Dustin away with him, the younger boy still staring at you.

“It just feels so wrong.” He mutters and Steve agrees, disappearing down the stairs.

“Well, that makes me feel better.” You groan and Robin shakes her head.

“Nope, not doing it.” She tries to run but Nancy’s grabbing your arms, pulling you with her.

“Come on, you both look great.” She rolls her eyes, smiling. “Let’s go be so smart the director can’t refuse us.”

“He’s going to refuse us.” You comment, watching the way Robin itched to be out of her outfit, your own hands fiddling with the skirt. Nancy’s hand slaps yours away and you gape at her.

“We’ll be fine as long as we play our parts.” She reminds you both and you take a breath.

“Yes, mom.” You mumble and she rolls her eyes.

“Y/n’s right, I can’t breathe in this thing.” Robin complains, struggling with her heels, “And I’m itchy. I’m itching all over.”

“It’s not all about comfort. Okay? We’re academics.” Nancy says and Robin sighs.

“Who are evidently coming from an Easter brunch.” She says and you laugh, snapping your mouth shut when Nancy glares at you. “Also, this bra that you gave me is really pinching my boobs.”

“Yeah, and why do you look good and we look like The Shining twins?” You ask and Robin gasps in acceptance.

“Ooh, good one.”

“Okay, how about you both just let me do the talking?” She asks, looking between you both. “If that’s even possible?”

“It’s not only possible, it’s inevitable.” Robin stresses, pulling at the collar. “Because shortly, I’ll be dead from strangulation!”

Before you could even walk into the building, a man in monochrome stops you all, eyebrows raised.

“We have an appointment with the director.” Nancy smiles and you force your own, hands clasped in front of you. The man simply gives a curt nod, opening the door and jutting his chin.

“Friendly.” You mutter as you pass him, focusing everything on keeping your cool. The last time you went undercover like this was when you went to see Mrs. Driscoll…

As the man continues to what Robin assumed to be the office, she turns around to find you stood there, adjusting the waist band once again. In a sneaky turn, she makes her way back to you, dipping her head to meet your eyes.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Huh?” You look up, blinking. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… Just got distracted for a moment. Let’s go.”

You both return to Nancy in time for the door to open, a very brief greeting to the director behind the desk until you were all sat in front of him, trying not to sweat. You hated this feeling in your chest, some kind of fluttering darkness.

“3.9 GPAs.” Hatch comments, nodding approvingly as he holds the last folder; yours. “All of you. Impressive.”

“And this is a recommendation from Professor Brantley.” Nancy holds out yet another forged document, the lie rolling off her tongue like it was second nature. There was a bitterness latching onto your throat then, remembering the last time she had looked you dead in the eyes and lied.

“Yeah, I know Larry. Quite well, actually.”

Your heart leaps to your throat. Fuck, you should have known that. You were in charge of the research, why didn’t you check to see-

“Eh, you know what they say.” Hatch says, raising his eyebrows. “Those who can’t do, teach.”

Robin giggles at his joke and you smile, nodding.

“Uh, yes. Yes, that’s actually why we’re here.” Her eyes dart to yours and you sense she’s afraid of messing up.

“We can only learn so much when we’re confined to a classroom.” You speak up and Nancy nods eagerly, smiling with you.

Hatch hums in agreement, “And I’m sympathetic to your struggle, truly. But there is a protocol to visiting a patient like Victor. You have to put in a request, and then you have to undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”

He starts to slide the documents back to you and you bite your lip.

“I can see you’re disappointed.” He comments, “But I’m more than happy to give you a tour of our facility. Perhaps you can even speak to some patients in our low-security wing.”

The way he spoke down to you had your skin crawling with fury. This wasn’t the first time you’d been talked to like a mindless child.

“And we’d… we would love that.” Nancy tries, smiling again. “It’s just that, um… our thesis is due next month-”

“And you’re out of time.” Hatch cuts her off, raising an eyebrow. “Whose fault is that?”

You purse your lip, looking at your feet.

“Ours. Absolutely.” Nancy continues, hoping to appeal to his good side. You weren’t convinced he even had one. “We just- we wanted-”

“We didn’t drive all the way here to be disrespected.” You suddenly say and Nancy’s eyes widen in shock, looking at you like you were crazy.

“Excuse me?” Hatch blinks, reeling up to spew out more ridicules.

“Sir,” Nancy leans forward, “I do apologise for-”

“Don’t apologise, Ruth. Screw that.” Robin says this time and Nancy is almost staring daggers at you both. “Elizabeth is correct for being upset. The fact of the matter is, we did put in a request months ago and were denied. And then we reapplied and were denied again. And coming here was our last-ditch effort to save our thesis. And I really… I can’t breathe in this thing.”

“Uh, well, Rose, maybe you’d like to go outside and get some air.” Nancy says through gritted teeth.

“Maybe I should, Ruth.” Robin replies and you clear your throat.

“Director Hatch. Dr, I presume?” You look at him and he nods, frowning. “May I ask if anyone has ever had an appointment with you and gotten to speak to a patient of their choice before? Academically speaking, of course.”

“Well-”

“Hm, and how many of them were men?” You continue, Hatch struggling with his words. His hesitancy told you all you needed them to. “Right. All of them.”

“I don’t understand what you are implying, Miss…” He starts rooting back through documents and you scoff, taking him by surprise.

“You can just call me Elizabeth. Seeing as you never asked us originally if we were okay with not being addressed by our professional names, I can assume that you never bothered to learn or even look at what my surname might be.”

“Well, I-” He stutters and you know you have him where you need him to be.

“The thing is, Dr Hatch, I’m not even offended anymore. None of us are. Because if we were men sat in front of you right now, you’d actually be seeing us with the intention of discussing our request to see Victor Creel instead of inviting us here to simply mock us.” You say in a sickly sweet voice laced with venom. You turn your head to Robin. “Isn’t that right, Rose?”

“Yes, it is.” Robin nods, suddenly standing from her chair, “In fact, I’m starting to think this whole thing is a colossal mistake. I’m breaking out in a rash, my boobs hurt. And I’ll tell you the truth, Anthony. May I call you Anthony? These aren’t actually my clothes. I borrowed them because I wanted you to take us seriously. Because nobody takes girls seriously in this field, they just don’t. We don’t look the part or whatever, but can I tell you a story?”

Hatch stares up in confusion and you hide a smirk, fixing the same glare on him as Robin rambled about summer camp, about how she was fascinated with knowing Victor Creel’s mind and you felt that flutter of darkness burst into something else, something a little brighter. You knew words could be a powerful thing, and you knew now that Robin was so much more than you realised.

“I wanted to be you!” Robin emphasises, breathing heavy. “So, forgive me if I’ll now try anything in my power, including wearing this ridiculous outfit, if I might get the chance to speak to the man that ignited my passion, and learn a little more about how his twisted, but let’s face it, totally fascinating mind works.”

She takes a deep breath and you stand up, too, ignoring Nancy’s wide eyes.

“Maybe we don’t have the official paperwork, but don’t tell us that a man like cry-baby Petey wouldn’t have gotten an audience with Victor in a matter of moments if he’d asked politely, because we all know that he would.” You conclude, both you and Robin sharing that same fire in your eyes as you stare down at this man, unwavering.

“So… ten minutes with Victor. That’s all we ask.” Robin suggests, and Hatch glances between all three of you, sighing.

“Follow me.” He finally says, standing from his desk and leading you all to the door, letting his receptionist know he’d be out.

You and Robin sneak a grin to eachother, an amazed Nancy shaking her head in astonishment, leaning close.

“You guys make a great team.” She whispers and Robin smiles, feeling giddy when you reach for her hand and squeeze for a second in victory.

“Y/n?”

“Y/n, are you okay?”

Your head is thumping, trying to force your eyes open. You felt tired and dizzy, taking in as many deep breaths as you can.

“What happened?” You manage to say, clearing your throat. You can just make out Robin’s face leaning over from the passenger seat. You blink. Since when were you back in the car? “What…”

Whatever your question was to be, your mind interrupted you with a sharp memory.

“Did I survive?” Victor says with a low voice, his deformed eyes felt like they were staring into your soul, your heart beating erratically. “No, I assure you…”

His head slowly turns towards the bars, suddenly snapping to where you stood.

“I am still very much in hell.”

“You fainted.” Nancy says from behind the wheel, a crack in her voice. “Hatch found us out, tried to have us arrested. We needed to make a run for it so you distracted them…”

“I think we can beat him.” Nancy whispers to you both as you walk through the courtyard, officers trailing behind you.

“What?” Robin frowns.

“To the car.” She specifies, determination written across her face. You nod in agreement, already seeing the familiar brown of the wagon across the field.

“Okay, I’m warning you right now, I have terrible coordination.” Robin stresses, “It took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies. I’ll just slow you guys down.”

“I’ll distract, you guys run.” You whisper, walking beside the hedge.

“What?” Nancy turns to you, Robin sporting a similar expression of horror.

“I took track for three years, remember?” You remind Nancy and she tilts her head in contemplation. “I can outrun them and give you time to start up the car. I’ll meet you outside the gates.”

“What- is this really a plan right now?!” Robin hisses at you both and Nancy grabs her hand.

Before Robin can protest any further, you quickly swipe at the ground and gather stones, spinning around to launch them at the officers.

“Just follow my lead.” Nancy urges as she pulls Robin into a run and you sprint the other way, glancing back to ensure they were both following you instead of them.

The next thing you can remember is being tackled to the ground, an array of voices shouting after you. It wasn’t an officer, though. It was a patient, her wild eyes screaming at you.

“Curse! Curse!”

She had spewed that over and over until you manage to push her off, scrambling to your feet and cutting through the trees, making out the silhouette of the vehicle just leaving.

“You passed out when you got to us, are you- are you okay?” Robin’s brows are furrowed, looking at you with more concern than you think you ever had for yourself.

“Fine.” You shake your head, slowly sitting up. “I think I accidentally ran into someone and hit my head a little. I must have been dizzy.”

It was a blatant lie and you knew it. But the truth sounded too scary for you to want to focus on.

“What did I miss?”

“Uh…” Robin looks to Nancy and your stomach drops. “Well…”

“Vecna got to Max.” Nancy says for her and you lurch forward.

“What?! Is she okay?”

“She’s okay.” Robin confirms, nodding profusely. “She’s fine. We told them about the music and they managed to pull her out of it before anything truly horrible could happen.”

You sigh in relief, slumping back into your seat. “Thank god.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nancy finds your eyes in the rear-view, frowning.

“I’m alright.” You let out a breathy laugh. “I think I severely overestimated my stamina from five years ago.”

“Good.” She smiles, and you curl your lips in return. “At least we know something now, right? This trip wasn’t a total waste. I say we take a look at the Creel House, see if we can find anything else.”

With everyone in silent agreement, you all try to calm your nerves from the day.

“I wish we knew more.” Robin speaks up after a few more minutes of driving, shifting in her seat so she could see both you and Nancy. “I mean, we still don’t really know how to stop him.”

“And why only one at a time?” You frown and she looks at you questioningly. “Victor’s whole family was taken in a night, one after the other. It’s terrifying to think, but… but what’s stopping him from doing that now?”

“Maybe he got weaker?” Robin suggests and Nancy sighs, shaking her head.

“Let’s just take today as a milestone, get some sleep, and keep working tomorrow.” She suggests and you nod, murmurs of agreement falling from both of your lips.

Your head turns back to the window, sinking further into your seat. Nancy was right, you should be looking to the positives, not digging yourself a hole of disappointment. You were so sure this trip would answer everything, but everything wasn’t as simple as you had hoped. This thing was new and it was bigger than you could ever have imagined. In fact, the more you thought about it, the clearer it became that you still had a chance to walk away from it all. You were one plane ticket away from escaping again, once and for all. In two days you’d be at your grandfather’s funeral, and in two days you will have nothing else holding you here except the responsibility you’ve all put on yourselves.

No, you couldn’t leave. It wouldn’t be right to rub it in Max’s face that you can escape this when she’s bound to it. You owed her this.

She was the only one who actually cared for you when Heather died.

taglist: @kryztalglear / @dejerw / @officerrrfriendly / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @spacedoutdaydreamer / @endurexxsurvive / @em16cor / @gray-cheese / @chaosofmanyfandoms

i try to keep up to date with taglists but if i have missed anyone or if you would like to be added please comment below or let me know via asks! [if i have highlighted your username in pink, it means tumblr isn’t allowing me to tag you so please check visibility settings while i try my best to sort this out!]

[ihni]

Of fathers

For @harringrovesummerbingo, square B3, prompt "Gardening" (VERY loosely interpreted, also I never state it in writing that it takes place in summer but it does)

3K, mentions of child abuse, mentions of spousal abuse, mentions of infidelity.

(On AO3 here)

~~~

“She said I’m just like him.”

The words are quiet, muffled by the way Billy is hugging his knees and burying his face in the sleeves of his arms. The angry tears have stopped, but his eyes are still puffy and red where Steve can see them behind the curls hanging over his face. The redness matches the blue that is darkening under his left eye.

Steve, who has spent almost an hour – the whole time since his boyfriend showed up at his door, face bruised and tense – just holding him and pretending he didn’t see the tears or notice the hitched breathing, almost doesn’t catch the words. “What did you say?”

For a second, he thinks that Billy won’t repeat it. That he’ll be stubbornly quiet, or say that it was nothing and brush it off. It’s a relief when Billy unfolds a little where he’s sitting on Steve’s bed, before saying, more clearly, “She said I’m just like him.”

Steve frowns. “Who said that? And just like who?”

Billy sniffs and wipes at his nose with the back of his hand. “Max. And Neil.”

That has Steve moving. He sits down next to Billy on the bed and reaches out to stroke the hair out of his eyes – carefully, as to not cause any additional pain. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

Billy lets out a laugh that sounds closer to being a sob than anything else. “Oh she meant it. She was really mad.” Before Steve can speak, he continues, “And I don’t blame her. I was mad too. After Neil did this –“ He gestures at his face, “– I needed an excuse to get out. Told her I’d give her a ride to Sinclair’s house if she wanted. And then I did, but … I was so angry. And I just can’t keep my mouth fucking shut when I’m angry. I’m the kind of asshole who just have to take it out on someone.” He lowers his voice so it’s almost a whisper as he states, “She’s right. I am just like him.”

Steve bites his lip. Puts his hand on the back of Billy’s neck while he thinks of how to ask, rubbing his thumb in what he hopes is soothing circles on the skin he can reach. He decides that the best way is to ask outright. “Did you … hurt her?”

Billy flinches. Pulls out of Steve’s grip. “No! Not … not like that.” He deflates. “I didn’t hit her or anything.”

“What happened, then?” Steve asks, instead of What did you do? Because that would sound like an accusation, and Billy doesn’t need that right now.

“I yelled at her. She yelled back. I yelled more. Then I hit the dashboard. I … I scared her.”

“But you didn’t hurt her. You didn’t lay a hand on her.”

“One doesn’t have to lay a hand on someone to hurt them,” Billy protests, and well. He knows that from experience, Steve supposes.

Still. “You didn’t hurt her like that,” Steve insists. “You’re nothing like your dad, Billy.”

Surprisingly, that makes Billy bark out a laugh. He squeezes his eyes shut and new tears roll down his cheek. “You’re actually right about that one, pretty boy!”

As much as Steve wishes that this is just Billy taking his words to heart and accepting them as truth, he doubts that’s what’s happening. Billy looks too devastated for that. So he asks, “What do you mean?”

Again, he expects silence, or to be brushed off. And again – albeit after a long while – Billy surprises him by speaking.

“I mean that … Did you know that Neil isn’t my real dad?”

Steve’s eyebrows flies up on his forehead and his mouth opens, but he doesn’t know what to say to that kind of revelation. He doesn’t know what one is supposed to say in a situation like this.

“Are you … are you sure?” is what he goes with, and he immediately makes a face and wishes he could take the words back, because what kind of question is that? Luckily it seems that Billy finds his transgression funny rather than offensive, because he lets out a snort.

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

“But you …” Steve starts. Stops. Figures, fuck it, and continues, “You kind of … look like him?” It comes out as a question, and Billy makes a face. Like he knows, and doesn’t like it. “Sorry,” Steve adds.

Billy shakes his head. “No, that’s … I do, that’s the thing.” His voice breaks, and Steve’s heart twinges. “I do look like him. Or, well …” He trails off.

He looks so small, hunched over on Steve’s bed, arms around his torso like he’s holding himself together. Like he had to learn to hold himself, because no one else would. Well fuck that, Steve is here now – Steve will gladly hold him.

He reaches out, slowly and carefully in case Billy reacts badly. When there is no reaction, he puts his arm around Billy’s shoulders and pulls him closer. With his free hand, he reaches for Billy’s hand. Billy not only allows it, but melts into it. Relaxes into the almost-hug, and lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it for a while.

There is silence for a while. Steve doesn’t mind it. He waits for Billy to speak, and is rewarded when, after some time, Billy takes a breath.

“My mom kept a garden in our first house, when I was little. Just a small one, like a couple of flowerbeds and some bushes, but she liked it.” A pause. “She liked watching things grow.” Another pause, and when he continues, his voice is strained. “Too bad that only applied to plants, and not her son.”

Squeezing Billy’s shoulders, Steve wordlessly offers his support. He knows that it takes a lot out of Billy to speak of his mother.

“She wasn’t very good at it, though. Which … yeah. Figures.”

Again, Steve says nothing. After a while, Billy starts again, with something that sounds like a non sequitur.

“You know how Neil was in the war?”

Steve nods, even though Billy can’t see it. Tries to keep up. “Yeah, Vietnam. You’ve mentioned it.”

“Right. Uh, well. Neil has a brother. Had a brother. Or, no, has, I don’t know, I guess he’s still alive. Probably.” Billy shakes his head as if to clear it. His voice is raspy. “Anyway, his brother – Roger – he wasn’t in the war. He’d hurt his leg in his youth and he walked with a limp, so he didn’t have to go. Or so my mom told me, anyway.” He swallows and throws a quick glance at Steve before looking away again. “He did many odd jobs, but one of them was apparently gardening. So he helped mom plant that garden at that first house. She went to him for tips, asked advice. That kind of thing.” He licks his lips. “When Neil was overseas, Roger … helped her tend to it.”

Steve sits quiet and still next to him, carefully not interrupting when Billy huffs out a breath and continues, “He … helped her with other things too, while Neil was away.” A significant look in Steve’s direction. “He wasn’t just there for the garden, if you know what I mean.”

It’s Steve’s turn to swallow. “Oh,” he says as realization dawns. “So … he and your mom, they …” He trails off, as if not wanting to say it out loud.

“Bumped uglies?” Billy snorts. “Yeah. Or … they must have, because when Neil got home … I mean. I was born seven months after Neil got back. Not nine. And like, I’ve seen my baby pictures.” He smiles, a little more real this time. “I was a fat baby. Way too big to have been born two months early, if you catch my drift.”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve says, and entwines his fingers with Billy. “I get it.” Billy relaxes marginally; softens under his touch.

“Neil and Robert, they were close when they grew up. It was just two years between them – Neil was the oldest. And they … they looked a lot alike.” He shrugs. “Which is probably why Neil caught on, eventually. Because he’d always known that mom had had an affair when he was away. But he didn’t know with whom, she wouldn’t tell him, no matter how much he … how much he hurt her. And then I got older, and I started looking like him. But … he knew I couldn’t be his.” He takes a deep breath, bites his lip. Steels himself to continue. “And Robert, he was still around, yeah? To me, he was just Uncle Rob. He used to come around the house all the time, have dinner with us and watch the game with Neil just like usual … And he’d play with me. Bring presents for my birthday and Christmas, spend the holidays with us, and ....” He laughs, but the laugh breaks and he clamps his teeth together. Forces a smile. “And help mom with her garden.”

He quiets, but it’s not the kind of quiet where he regrets speaking; it’s not him snapping his mouth shut and going on the defensive, it’s not him getting up and leaving. It’s more like, he doesn’t know how to continue.

So, gently, Steve prompts, “I take it your dad … I mean, Neil … knows?”

A beat, then, “Oh yeah.”

“How did he find out?”

Billy leans his head on Steve’s shoulder. “I don’t know. Him and my mom, they were fighting a lot when I was a kid. You know.” Steve hums in agreement. Billy has let a few things slip. “But … there were a lot of fights, and they got worse. From one day to another, Uncle Rob stopped coming over. Neil was angry all the time, and he’d look at me like …” He trails off, but he doesn’t have to continue. Steve has heard about the way Neil treats Billy – he can imagine. “Anyway. He dug up mom’s garden. I remember that, because she cried about it. And then we moved to another house. Smaller. No place for flowers.”

He puts a leg up on the bed and pulls it closer by the knee; making himself smaller. Steve doesn’t think he realizes that that’s what he’s doing.

“The fights got worse, Neil got worse. Mom stayed with him for a couple of years after that, but … But then she had enough. She told me the truth before she left, about Rob and that he was my real dad, and said that she’d come back for me and that we’d go live with him –“ His voice breaks, but he clears it and follows through; “She said that she’d come back for me.”

Steve can’t do anything but hug him, and feels like crying himself.

“But she didn’t,” Billy finishes. Wipes at his eyes uselessly. “And Neil … He went mental when she left. Destroyed all her things, threw out everything that she hadn’t brought with her, anything that reminded him of her.” He shrugs. “Unfortunately I reminded him of her, too. And of … Uncle Rob, I guess. I never saw either one of them again.”

The question is burning on Steve’s tongue; Why didn’t they come back for you? But he holds back, because he imagines that Billy must have asked himself that same question a thousand times.

As if Billy hears the unasked question though, he adds, “Neil’s name is on my birth certificate. By everything that counts, he’s my father. So it was his right to move us, again. To another city. I don’t think he told my mom that he was going to do it.”

It sounds like he’s grasping for straws, but Steve will never say it out loud. If Billy prefers to believe that his mother looked for him but couldn’t find him, over the fact that his mom gave him up and left him with her abusive asshole of an ex-husband, then that’s his right. Whatever helps. Steve is not so cruel as to pop that particular bubble.

“He doesn’t know that I know.”

“He … What?”

“Neil. He doesn’t know that mom told me. No one is supposed to know.” And yet here Billy is, telling Steve. “If people found out, Neil would be disgraced. Having his wife cheat on him, with his brother nonetheless, and then for him to knowingly raise another man’s child? He’d rather kill …” Himself, Steve’s mind supplies. But what follows is, “… me.”

There are a lot of things that Steve wants to say to that, and to everything else he has just learned, but he doesn’t know where to start. And besides, it doesn’t seem like Billy needs to be prompted into speaking, this time. The words are running out of him like he’s been waiting to tell someone.

“He hates me. I know he does. He looks at me and he sees my mom, and he sees my real dad, and … I’m just this walking, talking reminder of that betrayal, and I know he wants me gone, but he can’t throw me out because everyone thinks I’m his son and no one can find out the truth. And I know that he hates me.” He keens and turns his face into Steve’s sleeve, wetting his sweater with his tears. “Max too. And she’s right to hate me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Steve says and turns so that he can pull Billy into a proper hug. “She’s young, and she’s quick to anger, just like you, but she doesn’t hate you.”

“Yeah she does. She said I’m just like Neil, and she’s right.” He lets out a sob. “I don’t want to be, Steve. I don’t want to be like him.”

“You’re not,” Steve says, shushing him gently. “You’re not, baby.” Billy’s crying speaks of heartbreak, of a hurt that goes way back and Steve is desperate with the need to soothe it; make it better, somehow. “Listen to me, Billy, you’re nothing like him. You’re feeling bad about yelling at Max, right? Well, do you think your da–“ He catches himself in time, “– Neil has ever felt bad about hurting you?”

“I don’t … I don’t know.”

“You apologized to me for hurting me in November, remember? And then you apologized to the kids, too, and you can apologize to Max for yelling at her today. Has Neil ever apologized to you?”

“No.”

“Do you think Neil has ever sat on a bed with his boyfriend, all messed up because he doesn’t want to be the kind of guy who hurts another person?”

It’s a bad attempt at a joke, but it works. Billy huffs out a wet laugh and sniffles. “Definitely not.”

“Well then there you go,” Steve says. He releases Billy from his embrace only so he can put his hands on either side of his face and turn him so they’re facing each other. He looks into Billy’s puffy eyes, and gives what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “You’re not your dad, Billy.” When Billy opens his mouth to speak, Steve speaks over him; “Either one of them. You are yourself.” He combs his fingers through Billy’s hair, watching him closely. “You’ve been dealt a shit hand in life. But you’ve made it this far, and you’re trying to be better every day and …” His eyes are burning. “I’m so proud of you for that.” Billy swallows and blinks, another tear running down his cheek. Steve can’t help but lean in and press a kiss to it, tasting the salt on his lips. “And I love you, okay? You’re not alone anymore. You’ve got me.”

Billy lets out a sound that is half-laugh and half-sob, and closes his eyes as Steve rests his forehead against Billy’s. They sit like that for a while, eyes closed, touching and breathing the same air, until there are no more sobs; no more tears.

“I love you too.” Billy’s voice, when it comes, is low; barely a whisper. But they’re close enough that Steve hears it, close enough that he feels Billy’s breath on his skin as he speaks. “Thank you.”

Instead of saying that Billy doesn’t have to say thank you, or that Steve didn’t really do anything, Steve gives him another quick kiss – on his lips, this time – and leans back. He puts his hands on Billy’s shoulders and rights them both, and then gives a little smile.

“When are you picking Max up at Lucas’ place?”

Billy takes a deep breath and licks his lips, trying to put himself back together. “Quarter to seven. She has to be home for dinner.”

“Then how about you,” Steve says and points his index finger to Billy’s chest, “drive her home and use that time to … talk to her,” Apologize, he doesn’t say, “while I,” he points the finger back to his own chest, “order some pizza. And then you come back here and we’ll have dinner and watch some TV and you can spend the night.” Because Steve knows enough to know that Neil doesn’t really care if Billy’s home or not, after a fight that leave marks. Seems to prefer it when he’s not, actually. “How does that sound?”

It’s a testament to how far they’ve come, and to how much Billy has changed, when Billy just responds to that with a nod and a barely-there smile. Where he would once have refused to do what someone told him just because someone told him, and where he would have hated to be talked to as if he was a child, and probably would have acted out after his bout of vulnerability, now he just accepts it.

He accepts it because he’s grown. And because it’s Steve. And because they love each other.

“Sounds good.”

[witchlingcirce]

What do you think is TSC’s darkest book/series or Plot-line?

I personally think Cassandra’s darkest book is Queen of Air and Darkness, as some of her darkest scenes/plot-points/dialogue where in there (excluding not also including some of Sebastian’s scenes in TMI).

It got to the point where her writing these things had gone from inconspicuous to outright offensive. I don’t mind the mature change, but it was just noticeable, you know? The comment Dane Larkspear made about a 13 year old Dru and him asking Dearborn personally to ‘keep her’? The suggestion that Sebastian and Jace were ‘playing’ with with rebels that look like a dead Clary? Manuel-and his whole weird sadist obsession with Zara- hiding under a corpse? Poor Ash being abused and manipulated constantly?

That book was heavyyyyy I swear

TW: mentions of Rape

Darkest books?? Definitely the dark artifices series!! Those books felt so much more serious and more new adult than young adult, I loved them so much!! I personally think there Cassandra’s best work.

However, anything to do with Sebastian Morgenstern has to be her darkest stuff yet!! I feel as tho it’s not mentioned as much due to the fact the mortal instruments is definitely written in a more YA way.

1. Has actual attraction towards sister

2. Tried to rape that sister

3. Torturer

4. Murderer

5. Racist! (The way he refused to turn Mark because he was half fae 😰)

His cruelty and atrocities are even more present in the Thule plot.

This is one the most despicable things I have ever read😭. Pretty red head, like his sister? Also implying that he made Jace play with them to? (This has to be rape of some kind, also mental manipulation) I can’t imagine how scared those poor girls must have been 💔.

Not to mention that he literally killed Max.

I know this isn’t a specific plot line, but I really do think Sebastian is the most wicked villain she will ever write. Thule is just an example of that as well!

Also, him literally turning shadowhunters into like dark versions of themselves is so wicked. Turning Amatis to get back at Luke?? Turning the Blackthorns father and than having him go after the rest of the family?? WICKED.

The only thing he ate?? The red shadowhunter gear.

Small jokes aside and also a quick rant: I absolutely hate how the fandom treats him like he was just “misunderstood” or “wronged”. I agree we should be sympathetic to the fact he was abused as a child and manipulated, however he STILL MADE THESE DECISIONS GROWING UP! He chose to abuse clary, he chose to abuse Jace. He chose to ruin so many families lives (The blackthorns, the lightwoods, Clary’s life, his army killed Cristina’s dad SO MUCH MORE.) he’s a bad person, it literally says in the book that his good self never got to exist, which is sad but I hate how people think that moment defines his whole character.. it doesn’t 😭. Like yeah it’s sad we never got to see him be a good person, but that’s it.

Sebastian Morgenstern I HATE you and they can never ever ever make me like you!

This is such an amazing ask Pookie!! TYSM for letting me rant 😎.

[guide-to-world-domination]

I can’t stop imagining spider becoming an absolute badass, like the amount of ideas literally keep me up at night. For example, imagine that one day, Neytiri just goes off on Spider and says the most foul things to him - stuff that was so horrendous, even people who equally hated Spider being around had to try and calm her down, because what she was saying was completely out of line. To spider, he’s heard this all from the People, the Scientists, the McCoskers - but Neytiri always strikes a cord that can’t be fixed or shrugged off easily. The only thing that snaps him from his thoughts, was what Neytiri said next while she was being pulled away from the situation.

“You will never be One of the People. Your father is a Demon, and your mother is worse for ever loving him and producing such Spawn”

There it is the breaking point. Spider has always turned the other cheek when it comes to people that insult him or insult him by comparing him to his father. He always found that retaliation and tantrums only proved his accusers assumptions correct. But nobody. Nobody insults his mother. Spider could have screamed back and shouted bloody murder at her, but at this point, he just doesn’t care. She isn’t worth trying to prove himself to. His siblings know who he is, that’s enough.

From that day on, he doesn’t go to High Camp again and doesn’t wear his loincloth. He starts wearing cargo pants and tank tops, but he keeps his armbands, knife and jewellery. He wants to come into his own identity, but he can’t shed what remains of his past life (trying to be part of the Omaticaya). Personally, I don’t think that Norm and the other Scientists wouldn’t care too much about what spider does until he crosses a line or breaks a rule that they haven’t outright told him (that kind of behaviour is traumatising, I would know 🙂). So when figures out to give himself piercings and tattoos, they are livid. They are shocked at the transformation - where painted blue stripes used to be, there were inky black stripes that passed over every limb and even on his face; where dirty brown locs used to be, golden blond hair was fashioned into a Viking braid reaching down his back (similar to a kuru).

The only person that understands and doesn’t overreact is Max. Personally, that man was a dark horse in his family before he came to Pandora, I know it in my soul (Headcanon coming soon or after this post). He takes it on himself to support Spider and nurture his clear talents. He wishes he could have raised spider as his own, but knew that he would be shunned by his colleagues for raising his son - he couldn’t be seen as a disgrace after his time as a child.

Spider had a number of talents and skills, including Engineering, Chemistry, Languages, Marksmanship and martial arts. Max helped to nurture each and everyone. Some days, he would have Spider build and repair weapons and tech. Other days, Spider would learn chemical reactions or a new language. Every evening, Max would instruct Spider in combat and would exercise and lift with him to encourage him. Over the course of a month or two, Spider was unrecognisable. He took in information like a sponge and soon Max was running out of things to teach him. Piloting Samsons and Scorpions - took a few tries, but Spider was truly a born pilot like Paz. Stealth and parkour - He was already a natural, but he was fooling Na’vi warriors more often than not after a week of practice.

Eventually, when Jake started performing raids on RDA Trains, Spider knew it was time to put this all into practice. You see, deep down, he still wanted to prove himself to the People, but not so he could be one of them. He wanted to prove himself, to show them what he forged himself into despite them. However, he knew Jake would never approve him going along - he was still a child. The thought to Spider was ludicrous; Spider never believed he was a child, because no child goes through what he did and remains a child. So he decides to go anyway and doesn’t bother with permission. Though, he does ask Max, who understandably forbids this from happening. After reasoning that he would be safer if he got support to complete this venture, Max relented after hours of back and forth.

And thus, Araña was born. Imagine Winter Soldier getup (Hydra-controlled Bucky, not White Wolf armour) where the half mask acts as his rebreather so he doesn’t risk glass from a regular mask entering his eyes. All manners of weapons are strapped to his body including an Assault Rifle, a revolver (nobody knows that it was actually Quaritch’s revolver that delivered the fatal shot to Grace), A bow and quiver, a LOT of knives and a grenade or two. He looks terrifying but despite this Max feels proud - not about his boy going to fight in a war that has devastated everything he loves, but because this kid, his son, has stepped into his role as a defender and Max is proud of how far Spider has come to reach his goals.

Queue Spider being the biggest menace to RDA society that has ever existed. There was no reason for the Na’vi Ground forces to blow up the rail line, because Spider had already hijacked the train and pulled the breaks. The look of an anonymous Sky Person swing around the train killing and disarming grown men confused everyone in the raiding party, especially the Sully’s. There was something familiar about the acrobatics of this mysterious warrior, the answer on the tips of their tongues. It was only after Spider saved Lo’ak and Neteyam from the missile strike, that everyone realised who this person was. Nobody believed it until Spider spoke and then all he’ll broke loose.

I apologise if this too long or weird, I just needed to get this out of my head. I’ll definitely be adding to this given time, regardless of whether or not people like it, and the only thing that can stop me is my undiagnosed AuDHD.

Farewell to all, Yours sincerely,

Your Favourite Evil Overlord

[seas-of-silver]

Did the doctor say "triplets"?!🤭

‘Did the doctor say "triplets"?!’ Rose burst excitedly as Adrien and Marinette walked through the door of Alya and Nino’s home for their monthly Akuma Class (and friends) game day. ‘Oh, please let it be triplets!’

‘Wha-’ Marinette began.

‘No, I’m sure it’s twins,’ Mylène cut in, just as animatedly as Rose was.

‘Guys, it could be a single child,’ said Marc calmly.

‘Or quadruplets,’ Nathaniel suggested teasingly, earning him a playful elbow from Marc and a squeal of delight from the girls.

‘The real question is whether it’s a boy or a girl,’ interjected Kim.

‘And if there’s more than one, how many of which gender!’ added Ivan, looking over his shoulder. ‘Max?’

Max was sitting at the kitchen counter, paper everywhere, pen scribbling, and tapping away at the calculator. ‘Hang on. I’m almost done my calculations - Markov’s just getting me more information on their genetic history.’

‘How-’ Adrien started.

‘What about you, Alix?’ Luka prompted.

‘Hey, don’t look at me,’ Alix replied, holding her hands up by her head. ‘Even if I do know, I can’t tell you.’

Everyone grumbled at that.

‘Guys, what’s going on?’ Adrien asked, finally getting their friends’ attention.

‘We are speculating on the quantity and gender of yours and Marinette’s unborn child/children,’ Kagami informed them.

‘Right… and why now?’ questioned Marinette.

‘Because you two went to the doctors,’ answered Félix, as if that explained everything.

Marinette frowned and folded her arms. ‘And how did you find out we were at the doctors?’

Their friends went silent, but their eyes flickered, glanced, or even outright stared at Nino, who looked everywhere except at his best friends.

‘Seriously, Nino?’

Nino winced at Marinette’s unimpressed tone.

‘All I said was that you guys would be late because you had an appointment before coming over!’ he defended.

Marinette turned her gaze to Alya, who nodded.

‘It’s true,’ Alya confirmed. ‘They just took it and ran with it.’

‘But how could we not?’ piped up Socqueline. ‘We had our catch-up brunch pushed back to a late lunch because you weren’t feeling well, and when we did meet, you hardly touched the cold meats and cheeses like you normally would!’

‘Couldn’t that just be because she still wasn’t feeling well?’ Juleka muttered.

‘And Adrien has been super protective over you for the last few months,’ Zoe stated.

‘But isn’t that because of the threats she was getting from that competing designer from the competition held earlier this week?’ Sabrina asked curiously.

‘Geez, who’s side are you two on?’ Rose huffed petulantly at Juleka and Sabrina; the two merely shrugging in response.

‘Let’s just calm down, okay? We’ll tell you what happened,’ Adrien soothed, sharing a look with Marinette, and everyone settled down - even Max stopped his calculating and Markov stuck his head out of the study to listen in.

‘We went to the optometrist,’ Marinette began, and she could already see interest drop, ‘because Adrien wanted to make sure he wouldn’t need glasses like Gabriel did-‘

‘Booooooo! Gabriellll!’ came the predictable jeers from their friends. Ever since the truth was revealed about Adrien’s father, all their friends rallied around him in support, offering food, shelter and safe spaces for Adrien to find comfort in, which meant a lot to him.

‘-and we found out that Adrien’s vision is perfectly fine!’

Mutterings of how that was good news filled the room, but it was clearly not the content they were hoping for.

‘So that’s where we were this morning,’ Adrien said to their despondent crowd. ‘Oh, and we also visited Maman and Papa at the bakery to pick up the pastries for our meet-up, and to tell them they’ll be grandparents to a little boy in six months time.’

Marinette watched as their friends’ eyes widened when their words sunk in, and covered her ears and laughed at the chaos and screams of joy that exploded from their friends.

~/~

Ask game: Give me the first sentence and I'll write a short piece for it!

[saintjosie]

Hey, maybe I dreamt it and it wasn't you, but did you have brain fog issues with spiro? How was that like and how did you found out about it and tell your doctor? I think I'm having these issues as well and don't want to mess with my prescription but I don't know what to do about it and how to deal with it. I'm like a year and 8 months into hrt having 4mg of oral e and 100mg of spiro, if that helps.

i have absolutely talked about this before! and yes, spiro did give me horrendous brain fog.

spiro gets the job done in the same way that you could technically use a sledgehammer to hammer a nail. it wasn’t designed for hrt and it is rarely if ever prescribed at the dosages we take other than for trans fem hrt.

this is gonna be a long post so obligatory read more

one thing you gotta watch out for with docs prescribing spiro is that a lot of them don’t know how much you really need and therefore just prescribe what’s recommended by very outdated and outright transphobic guidelines (for more on this look up the bullshit about WPATH). the guidelines are very much cookie cutter kind of template and since every person is different, they don’t always work well.

i got put on the max dose of spiro about 1 year on hrt (200mg) and my brain fog was so bad i was barely able to do my job, on top of other side effects like extreme dehydration to the point where i was fainting.

fortunately, there are other options! it got a LOT better for me after i switched to finesteride and finesteride has worked great for me with no notable side effects!

and there are other options too! i’ve never taken any of these but you can ask your doctor about leuprorelin, flutamide, dutasteride, or if you’re not in the states, cyproterone acetate.

another viable option is no t-blocker at all and that’s called mono e. this one i don’t know as much about but i think it works only if your t is already suppressed enough before you start it and i think it also helps if you’re on progesterone.

also a side note about progesterone, my new doctor, who is VERY knowledgeable and actively educates themself on new info about hrt told me that progesterone is actually not recommended anymore bc even though many trans women say that it helps, it can also cause some kind of issue (that i can’t remember specifically unforunately). also they said that if you do add it, waiting until you’re 4-5 years into hrt might be better and again i’m not exactly sure why.

imo, get off spiro as soon as you can cause spiro is the worrrrrst.

but anyways, hope that helps!

[zeroseuniverse]

Beomgyu Coupons

Word count: 835 Pairing: Beomgyu x fem reader Summary: In which he doesn’t know what to get her for her birthday, but this might just be the best gift of them all

Beomgyu had no idea what to get his girlfriend, he was panicking to the max. He had contemplated just saying he was her gift but when it was his birthday, she had surprised him with something he had been wanting for a long time, even though he had only mentioned it once a long time ago, she had remembered. He wanted to give her something to make her feel just as special, but she never expressed wanting anything. 

“Why don’t you get her a plushie?” Kai suggested as the group sat around on the couch trying to figure out what to get her. 

“Because she just gave all of hers away to her nieces to give her space.” Beomgyu turned the idea down, drumming his fingers on the coffee table in front of him.

“Give her makeup.”Taehyun offered, that is what he got her and knowing Kai he got her plushies, so if he rejected his idea he might just have to go change his gift idea.

“Okay one she doesn’t need makeup,” The sentence was adorable, all of the members cooing at their middle member, “Second, no i want it to be meaningful.” He whined, gaining eye rolls from his hyungs and a slight sigh of relief from Taehyun who was happy he didn’t outright reject his idea. Kai was still pouting over the fact that anyone would get rid of plushies.

“Get her a ring.” Yeonjun offered, smirking at the younger who pouted a bit, Beomgyu had been in this relationship for two years now, it was by far his healthiest one and all of the members were just waiting for their whipped teammate to get down on one knee.

“No, we aren’t ready for that yet.” he denied, not wanting to stress his girlfriend with engagement and their fans going crazy over that announcement.

“How about you make her something?” Soobin offered, breaking Yeonjun’s teasing that was no doubt about to start.

“Like what macaroni art?” Beomgyu said sarcastically, earning chuckles from Yeonjun.

“No like a jar of notes full of things you love about her, or maybe a photobook.” Soobin listed off some ideas, Beomgyu closed his eyes and pretended to snore as his hyung kept listing off ideas.

“Wait hyung go back!” Kai exclaimed, making everyone jump a bit looking at the maknae. “Repeat the one before the last that you mentioned.

“Ah a coupon book?”

“Why would she need coupons?” Beomgyu was irritated that they weren’t taking this seriously.

“Beomgyu coupons, like is she cashes a coupon in maybe she gets an hour to herself, or you give her a foot massage. Things like that.” Soobin elaborated, making the two youngest giggle as they thought of so many jabs they could throw right now.

“Beomgyu has to shut up for an hour.” Taehyun joked as he made motions of writing in the air as if he was writing a coupon himself.

“Beomgyu can’t make any sarcastic comments for a day.” Kai giggled out, clutching a plush under his chin.

But the boy couldn’t even react to the teasing, this was the perfect idea.

--

“Beomgyu has to give me attention, Beomgyu has to tell me he loves me?”She read the coupons with a slight smirk as the 5 boys sat around, having gathered for a birthday dinner. “Hmmm What are these?” She asked with an innocent look on her face even though she was more than likely about to start teasing.

“I couldn’t think of what to get you, you never mention wanting anything. So I made you a book of coupons that will make me do anything you want.” Beomgyu explained shyly, casually placing a hand on his fac to try and cover the growing heat there.

“Awe babe, I never mention wanting anything because I have everything I want right here with you five.” She teased, knowing the 5 hate cheesy comments like that, which earned her 5 grimaces in return, “Also a nerf war? That was one hundred percent something you’d want more than me.”

“What? But you love shooting me with nerf guns!” He protested, which was true, anytime he got a bit rowdy she’d pull a nerf gun from one of her various hiding places and land a shot on him. Many noise complaints came from the action but it reminded her of spraying a dog with water.

“Yea I do it on a daily basis without getting shot back. If you want to entice me I would love a paintball war.” She grinned challengingly, making the five boys hop up excitedly.

“I wanna be on noona’s team!” Both Taehyun and Kai cheered, making the hyungs groan since they wanted to pelt Beomgyu with paint balls as well.

“If I win, I get you all to myself for a week.” Beomgyu grinned, thinking he had the upper hand with his hyungs on his team.

“And if I win…You can’t whine anytime I give one of the boys attention for a whole month.”

“You’re on!”