#or the time someone called El “fourteen”

[coruscant-cosmonaut]

Can’t take the concept of “what the general audience thinks” in theories seriously anymore. Every time some one’s like “the GA thinks this” or “why can’t the GA see this??” I just remember that general audience members (IE; people IRL outside fandom) I’ve talked to can’t even remember characters’ names. Of course they aren’t noticing Minor Detail #245 and are just going alone with what’s being shown on the screen.

[sp0o0kylights]

Whole thing on A03

It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it. 

Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it. 

They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned. 

They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design. 

Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy. 

"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job. 

As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family. 

Likely for business purposes.

"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead. 

It was easier than getting into it.

(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents. 

How his money went into a bank account they had access to. 

That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line. 

And boy, had he been acting out of line. 

 Getting into fights. 

Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills. 

Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.) 

So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for  was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track. 

His own plans be damned. 

"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.

 “We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot. 

The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen. 

Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.

Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas. 

"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!” 

“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him. 

Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”  

Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go. 

Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.

He was wrong. 

xXx 

Mike hadn’t cared. 

El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months. 

Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.) 

Max was the surprising emotional standout. 

"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest. 

Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them. 

Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him. 

“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage. 

Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.

(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh. 

Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again. 

Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.) 

“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.” 

This was clearly not the correct thing to say.

Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy. 

“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?” 

“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval. 

“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”  

“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max. 

Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. 

xXx 

“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom. 

Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble. 

“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter. 

Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”

An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago. 

“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck. 

Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles. 

“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!” 

“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.” 

Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large. 

“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road. 

“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone. 

A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it. 

Now he just stared tiredly at her back. 

“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case. 

“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second. 

Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.

Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it. 

“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort. 

Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.” 

He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone. 

It was just---Nancy did know. 

Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life. 

How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year. 

That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that. 

Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down. 

(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.) 

“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.” 

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to. 

“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”

“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin. 

“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now. 

So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm. 

“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough. 

“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…” 

She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them. 

Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”

She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt. 

“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car. 

As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit. 

Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things. 

“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?” 

He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice. 

A third time for good measure. 

“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.” 

Steve shrugged, because well. Not really. 

Not anymore. 

But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused. 

Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in. 

A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy. 

Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’ 

 He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly. 

“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.” 

It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet. 

“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise. 

“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut. 

“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point. 

“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand. 

He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. 

“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?” 

Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left. 

“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.  

“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”

Robin didn’t believe him.

His Robin. 

Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--

There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed. 

“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking. 

“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him. 

Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal. 

“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door. 

Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open. 

Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to. 

The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward. 

Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?

Against his parents? 

Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes. 

Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing . 

He didn’t know where he was going.

He figured he’d find out when he got there. 

xXx 

Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.

But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead. 

Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that. 

Party.

This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it. 

With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough. 

Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone. 

Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him. 

It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in. 

So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away. 

(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.) 

He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.

Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt. 

Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan. 

He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can. 

“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times. 

“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out. 

“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.

“Oh god.”

Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.” 

Then; “It gets worse.” 

Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”

Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans. 

A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.

She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl. 

Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid, 

“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.” 

Steve stayed silent. 

Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones. 

“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.” 

Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut. 

“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now. 

“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--” 

“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer. 

Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.” 

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry. 

For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him. 

“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.” 

“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.

Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done. 

“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”  

A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie. 

“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.” 

“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news. 

“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”

“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.” 

“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…” 

He’d put his wife first. His family, first. 

The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one. 

He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess. 

In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored. 

 They’d warned him. 

Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic. 

That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was. 

“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.” 

They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.

“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle. 

For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary. 

Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind. 

Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come. 

Provided he did what his parents wanted.

Such as marrying Angie. 

Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger? 

 Steve would bow to their whims. 

 Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it. 

Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand. 

Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work. 

It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish. 

Steve would try anyway. 

His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck. 

“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.” 

“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine. 

“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?” 

It was a downright horrible idea.

But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one. 

Not  when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it. 

He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.  

They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was. 

Steve needed that.

People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him. 

“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”

Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins. 

No matter how long the engagement. 

Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him. 

He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think. 

Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel. 

Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others. 

He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin. 

“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.

This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.) 

Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.

Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other. 

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?” 

Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there. 

“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question. 

Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway. 

“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart. 

He was now working on removing the 40 ounce. 

Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest. 

“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?

Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse. 

“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.

This did not detour the metalhead. 

“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly. 

Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”

Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve. 

For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too. 

Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!” 

Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.

It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so. 

“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!” 

Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either. 

“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.” 

At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.

Maybe.

It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying. 

Speaking of; 

 “When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.

“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.

“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been. 

“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home. 

The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice. 

Part Two

[me-and-your-husband]

if you lie down with me || e.w.

summary: there's one thing you and ellie don't have in common: immunity.

warnings: not beta read, swearing, blood, canon typical violence, death by suicide, ellie has concerning ideations, smut, oral, scissoring, multiple orgasms, angst!, crying during sex, arguing, probably more

word count: 6k

a/n: i know, i'm sorry for using this photo 😭 actually i'm sorry i wrote this entire thing

The end never feels like the end, does it? When you wake in the morning, the air is as fresh as the day before and the sun streams through the window at the same angle. You smile fondly at the incessant banging on your door, and at her urging tone when she tells you to get out of bed. “We have patrol,” she says, like she's said a thousand times before. What makes today any different? 

The gravel road feels the same as it crunches under your boots as she leads you to the gate. Her auburn hair shines the same in the light, the same way you've admired since you were fourteen and she had just settled in Jackson. 

You were helping out in the library, arms full of books stacked above your head. You struggled trying to keep them up with one hand and shelve them with the other. She noticed you from the corner, where she sat with a pile of beaten comics and a Walkman. “Need some help?” she asked, standing up from her spot on the ground. She took half the books from your pile and put them wherever you told her. After, when you asked her about the comics she was reading, her face lit up and she knew that you'd be a part of her life until death. Finally, someone was interested in knowing her. 

The friendly faces of the watchmen at the gate were the same as they were yesterday, a week ago, a month ago, a year. They waved at you and wished you good luck as you mounted your horse and rode alongside Ellie onto the trail. The way she shoved her pistol in her back pocket and slung her bow over her shoulders was always the same. The way your horse galloped evenly alongside Shimmer did not deviate from the norm. 

When she spoke up, her words were usual. 

“Look, babe. A hummingbird,” she said with glee, pointing to the frosty trees.

You smiled at her excitement. “Poor thing, it's so cold out.”

“Don't you remember?”

“Of course I remember, El,” you laughed. “How could I forget?”

How could you forget? It was a humid summer afternoon, shortly after Ellie had turned sixteen. You had snuck out of Jackson to explore a creek you had found the day prior on group patrol. You so badly wanted to show Ellie, to share every part of you with her. You didn't know what to call it, but you assumed it was just because you were really good friends. 

The soft rush of the water and the gentle breeze across your skin contrasted to the beating sun plastering your hair to your skin. You and Ellie sat with your backs against a wide oak, watching minnows skip through the water. 

“Do you think animals have feelings? Like us?” Ellie thought out loud. 

You hummed, “I do, but not as complicated as ours.” 

She nodded in agreement before her eyes drifted to the source of a new sound, a gentle humming. She saw the gentle bird sucking nectar from a flower, tapping your shoulder gently and pointing. 

“Look, a hummingbird,” she whispered.

“Woah!” You beamed, “I’ve only seen them in those nature books in the library. That's so cool. Did you know the sound actually comes from its wings?” 

As you watched the hummingbird, she watched you. “It’s really pretty.”

You agreed. She said your name, but looked away from you. 

“Yeah?”

“I think I like girls.”

You let the words settle in the air. 

“I think I do too.”

It was the first indication that something else could happen between you and her, something less platonic than you would've thought. After that, neither of you said anything about it, confident in the fact that something more could exist in the spaces between. 

It was the same confidence you had today as you followed her through the Wyoming woods, putting your trust in her. You took the same path almost every time you went out on patrol, knowing your way around, knowing the landmarks of the area. You knew you were getting close to the danger zone when you saw your favourite tree, the one you and Ellie would lean against by the creek, telling each other secrets into the night, crossing your heart to never tell another soul. Each of you knew that the other’s soul was the only one that mattered, anyways. 

It was just over a year ago that you’d both carved your initials into that tree, reminders of that early morning on patrol bringing a smile to your face. 

You had stopped for a moment to take a short break against the tree, letting your horses get some rest. Ellie leaned up against the tree as you pet Shimmer. The sun shone despite the snow and the brisk weather, illuminating your features gently. She admired the curve of your lips and the shape of your eyes, imagining her fingers tracing your skin under lamplight late at night. You looked up at her when your name tumbled from her lips. 

“Yeah?” You said, continuing to pet Shimmer.

“I like you.”

The air stilled and your hand faltered, breath hitching. But what if she didn’t mean it like that? 

You forced a laugh. “Well, I’d hope so. We’ve been friends for how long?”

“No, I…” she struggled for the right words. “I want to be more than friends. I like you. Like…romantically. And stuff.”

She played with her fingers, shuffling her feet back and forth in the snow, not meeting your gaze. 

“Ellie, look at me. Please,” you whispered. She raised her eyes to yours, but still kept her head low, not bringing it up until your hand cupped her jaw. She moved her hand on top of yours, trapping it there, wondering if it was just a dream. 

She closed her eyes tight when she saw you leaning in, praying that you weren't messing with her. When she finally felt your lips ghosting across hers, she leaned into you. Your touch was fire on her skin, leaving a red blush in its wake. She pressed your mouth to hers hungrily, never wanting this to end. 

“I like you too,” you mumbled against her lips. 

When you finally broke for air, chests heaving, you were both beaming. Ellie nervously reached into her pocket for her pocket knife, flicking it open. She held the blade against the bark of the tree, grabbing our hand and putting it on the hilt, sliding hers over top of it. 

She guided your hand as you carved your initials into the tree, trapping them inside of a heart. It was cliche, but it meant everything to you. 

It was the same tree that, a year later, you and Ellie passed on almost every patrol. The same tree that symbolized your everlasting love for each other. The same tree that stood since the dawn of your and Ellie’s time. 

You rode casually in comfortable silence until you got to the watchtower, negative memories plaguing both you and Ellie. The floorboards still held the echoes of your voices yelling, still soaked in your tears. 

Four months ago, when the rabbits were still brown and the path was clear of snow, you'd come through this watchtower to find two clickers. It caught you both off guard, as Jesse and Dina had just cleared it as safe the day before. 

Ellie, always being the hero, snuck up behind one, taking it out easily, and lunged at the other. The second one, however, pinned her to the ground, and she held it by the neck, its arms clawing hers. 

The sound of your pistol rang out as the body slumped on top of Ellie. She rolled it off and got up from the ground, chest heaving. 

“Well,” she said, brushing dirt from her jeans, “that was pretty close. Thanks.”

When you didn't respond, she turned to see you standing with your pistol still in both hands, brows furrowed as you watched the dead body of the clicker intently. She called your name. 

“What is it?”

You shook your head. 

“Come on, tell me-”

“Every fucking time, Ellie,” you said, shoving your pistol back in your pocket and turning away from her. “Why do you have to run head-first into danger like that every time?”

She didn't say anything, gaze on your back as she watched you turn back around. 

“What would I have done if you had gotten bit?” You said, voice a little watery. “Say something.”

She stumbled over her words, not knowing what to say. “I don't try to, you know, it’s just…” she sighed.

“You know, Ellie, sometimes I think that I value your life more than you do.”

The words hung in the air between you two, both of you knowing that you were right. Knowing that she could've been more, done so much more, saved so many people. But she was stripped of that. So what kind of meaning could she give to her life? What did she really have to live for? Before Joel, she never really had someone she knew would care if she died. Now she had you, and she didn't know how her recklessness would affect you. Now she did. 

“Okay, you're right. I’m too reckless. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll start thinking before I react,” she said, voice softening. 

You huffed, “I just worry about you, El. I don't know what I’d do without you.”

She hugged you tight, letting you nuzzle into her chest. She knew how you felt. Before you, she was hopeless. She didn't see a point in doing anything if her life couldn't be used by someone. What was it all for? Everything she'd struggled through? All she'd suffered? 

Now she knew that she was forced to experience it all so that she could end up with you. And she’d do it a million times over. 

She breathed your name. “I need to tell you something.”

You pulled away from her, “Well that's one way to start a conversation.”

She laughed nervously. “No, it's nothing bad. It's just…it might be hard to swallow.”

She gestured at an old, ratty chair. You sat and watched her intently. 

She took a deep breath, drawing it into her lungs and releasing it. “Do you remember why I got my tattoo?”

“Yeah, to cover up that chemical burn.”

“I lied,” she said. “That's not why I got the tattoo.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, silently begging her to go on. 

“When I was fourteen, I was bitten. On my arm.”

You sat back in your chair. 

“I waited and waited for my mind to go, for my body to go, for anything to happen, but it never did. So…I’m immune, or whatever,” she said, searching for a reaction. 

Seconds of silence passed. It was shattered with a laugh.

“That's a good one, Ellie. Real funny.”

“It’s true! Ask Joel. Tommy. Maria. They're the only ones who know…”

“And you expect me to believe this?”

“Just trust me. Please. It's all I ask, is for you to trust my word. Why would I lie to you about this?” She pleaded. 

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“Because Joel thinks it's dangerous for people to know. That's how we met, you know. He was hired to get me to the fireflies…they were going to make a cure,” she said, voice trailing off towards the end. 

“It didn't work, I take it?”

She shook her head. “Joel says they didn't need me.” Joel says. 

“Okay,” you said, making her look up at you. “I believe you. But that doesn't mean I’m fine with you running head-first into infected like that again. Just because you're…immune, doesn't mean you can't be torn apart. Got it?”

“Got it,” she said, crouching in front of you and putting her hands on your thighs. “God, I love you.”

You cleared out the watchtower and made your way back to the path. This part was one of your favourites, winding through the mountains. Your horses trotted casually beside each other. 

“Okay, okay, here's one: What do you say when a chef dies?” 

“Oh god, I don't know?”

“He pasta-way!” She said, giggling before she could even say the answer. 

Her laughter was contagious, sending it bubbling through your chest. “That's so bad that it's good.”

“Come on, just admit that I’m a top-notch comedian. If the world wouldn't have ended, I’d’ve been up there with Dave Chapelle.”

“Who’s Dave Chapelle?”

“I don't actually know. Some old ass comedian Joel told me about.”

You both laughed, smiles painted across your faces. However, the giggles subsided as you felt your horse start to shake slightly. 

“Woah, Shimmer, you okay girl?” Ellie said, patting her side. 

“Beau’s shaking too.”

“Maybe they’ve got…I don't know, a cold or something? Can horses even get colds?” You shrugged. “Maybe we should let them rest for a bit.”

You agreed, dismounting your horse and planting your feet on the ground. The shaking underneath you didn’t stop. You looked at Ellie, who looked at the mountain behind you. She yelled your name as you looked behind you.

A loud, grating noise sounded as you watched the earth of the mountain loosen from its side, rocks and boulders tumbling from it, falling in your direction. 

You hurriedly mounted your horses again, kicking their ribs to get them to go. You rode as fast as you could, attempting to beat the oncoming landslide. You'd never seen one before, only heard stories and read of them in books. You were about three quarters of the way through the mountain range when the land detached from the mountain and began to slide. 

“Go, go, go!” You yelled, Ellie a few feet ahead of you as her horse was younger than Beau. She glanced behind her every few seconds to make sure you were still there. 

The rocks falling created a settlement of dust around you, making it increasingly harder to breathe. You finally saw the green clearing outside of the mountain range. Almost there. 

The grating noise died, and you peered behind you to see the path completely covered in rubble. A few boulders still tumbled from the mountain, or whatever was left of it. 

“Watch out!” Ellie yelled. You looked to your right, seeing a massive boulder rolling down the mountain, coming right for you. 

You acted before you could think, much like Ellie, and propelled yourself forward off your horse as the boulder hit Beau and rolled atop of his body. You landed on the ground near Ellie, propping yourself up on your elbows to gawk at the sight. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, running to Beau. His body was mangled, bones sticking out of the skin and blood painting the grass. You felt like vomiting. 

Ellie dismounted her horse, still shaking from the adrenaline, and put her hands on your shoulders, attempting to get you standing. 

“Wait,” you said, leaning back down, planting a teary kiss on Beau's muzzle. 

You stood, holding her tight. “Let's never come through here again.”

“Don't think we can, sweetheart,” she said, looking back at the obstruction. “Come on, we've gotta find a new way back home.”

She was about to help you mount Shimmer when you both froze in your tracks. A low, husky groan rung out through the air, scaring Shimmer. She ran into the clearing out of fright. 

“Shit,” Ellie breathed. 

“We’ll find her later. Come on, we have to go. It's either a bloater or a shambler, and I don't really want to stick around to find out.” 

You turned to leave when the ground shook again. You turned around, looking back at the mountain. It wasn't the mountain shaking this time. Spewing through the hole the landslide left like spiders were hundreds—if not thousands—of infected. Clickers, runners, stalkers, bloaters, shamblers. Everything. 

There was no way you were making it out of this unless you legged it now. 

In unison, you and Ellie started sprinting to your last checkpoint— the old cabin. You ran faster than you ever had before, the sounds of hungry infected hot on your heels. You couldn't feel your legs, the burning in your flesh too intense. When the cabin finally came into view, you couldn't even allow yourself a breath of relief. You and Ellie had your guns out, shooting behind you as you ran, picking off as many infected as you could. When you were close enough to the cabin, the idea hit you. You knew that the creaky boards of the cabin wouldn't hold that many infected off. You knew what you had to do. 

“Ellie, cover me!” You yelled as you slung your backpack off your shoulder and grabbed what you'd need. You grabbed an old bottle of whiskey you and Ellie had found at the watchtower and a rag. Stuffing the rag in the bottle, you lit it with your lighter. 

In the ten seconds it took you to do this, the infected crept closer and closer to you. Ellie tried picking off as many as she could, keeping them away from you. Until her magazine ran out. 

You threw the molotov in front of the hoard of infected. It exploded, creating a wall of fire between you and your death. 

Until a single clicker went at you from the side. The light of the fire flickered in your irises and cast an orange glow across your face, and you didn't even hear it creeping up amidst the roar of the flames. You didn't even hear Ellie yell your name. 

It tackled you to the ground before you could even turn your head all the way, talons scratching your arms and legs, sinking into your stomach. Its jaw was inches away from your neck, begging to gnaw on your jugular. In the struggle for your life, you couldn't even tell where you were and weren't hurt, what was bleeding and what wasn't. 

Blood gushed into your hair and eyes as you watched Ellie slice its head clean off with her pocketknife. The same one you'd carved your initials into that old oak with. 

Something inside of you rattled knowing that something could be used so innocently and yet so dangerously. 

Ellie picked you up from the ground and helped you limp into the cabin, reeds of grass tickling your wounds. When you entered, you stood in the centre of the room as she barricaded the entrances. 

“There,” she said, returning to you. You were both coming off adrenaline, suddenly feeling the ache in your bones to an indescribable extent. 

You put your hands on your knees and leaned on them, heaving a little. “Ellie. We were so close.”

She just nodded in understanding. Her eyes survey you from top to bottom. You had a scratch across your cheek, a few minor lacerations across your arms and chest, and a few on your legs. She couldn't see any bites. 

You brought your right arm up to run it shakily through your hair. That's when she saw it, brutal and bloody, painted into your skin like a brand. One that would decide your fate. Except that it had already been decided. 

The sight of the bite on your forearm turned her stomach. She blinked over and over again, hoping that she was seeing wrong. Maybe she was still coming off of adrenaline. “Your arm…” she breathed. 

“What?” You asked, confused. You looked over your left, then your right, and…oh. “Oh.”

The silence was deafening. It wasn't like you'd been badly injured, still with a sliver of possibility for recovery. No, this bite sealed your fate. 

In the next day, you were going to become something Ellie had to detest. Something she had to kill. 

You felt the bile rise in your throat just in time to grab a decayed flower pot. You choked out everything in your stomach and more.

Ellie grabbed her stomach as she felt her body start to shake, that feeling creeping up her spine again. Her breath felt like it was being siphoned out of her. She needed air, but her lungs would not take any in. She hyperventilated as she threw herself back against the wall, legs giving out. 

A sweat broke out across her body, knowing that she's losing you tonight. 

Her mind shoved memories into her vision that she swore to never bring up again. 

“There're a million ways we should've died before today. And a million ways we can die before tomorrow. But we fight…for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it's two minutes…or two days. We don't give that up.”

She remembers the small, impossible slice of hope in Riley’s eyes, one that she knew was futile. Riley was her first love. She thought they were both going to die. She felt…horrible. You would be her last love, though she knew only you were fated to die. She knew she would die too. 

Your voice calling her name broke her out of her fit. One look at you wiping your face and shaking was enough to make her want to break something, anything. 

“Ellie,” you called. She stood and began pacing, running her hands over her face. “Ellie, stop it.”

“There's gotta be…there has to…we need…” she babbled, still pacing. An idea clicked, “give me your arm.”

You held out your shaking arm to your lover, expecting her to inspect the area. Instead, she took out her pocket knife and pressed the blade into her hand without any hesitation. 

“Ellie! What the fuck?!” You said, trying to stop her hand from bleeding. 

“Give me your arm,” she said firmly, a major contrast from before. When you hesitated, her hard gaze met yours. Her eyes softened when she saw the fear in your eyes. “Please,” she whispered. 

You gave her your arm and let her rub her blood into the bite. 

She took your arm and rubbed the blood into the bite knowing it wouldn’t work. 

It wouldn't work on you. 

She knew that. 

She tried anyway.

As she massaged the blood as deep into the wound as she could get, all she could think about was that she would've been able to save you if they made the cure. Her life would've had meaning, so much meaning. She would've been able to cure you from this. But she was helpless, cursed to watch you suffer. 

“Ellie,” you said, putting your hand atop hers to get her to stop and look at you. She could see in your eyes that you just needed to be close to her in that moment. She needed it too, needed to be impossibly closer as to grip into you forever. 

She buried her head into your neck and you did the same, holding your breath. For if you breathed, time would pass. If time passed, you'd be gone. 

You don't know how long you held each other like that, but it was long enough that your legs nearly collapsed with exhaustion. You were the first to speak. 

“I need you to promise me something,” you whispered. 

Ellie knew what you were going to say before the words left your mouth. 

“No-” she began pulling away from you, but you squeezed her tighter. 

“When it starts to happen…when I can feel it, I’m going to take my gun-”

“Stop it-”

“-and I’m going to go outside. You’ll know it's over-”

“-Stop-”

“-when you hear it. Just promise me you won't look.”

“Stop, please,” she begs, tears brimming in her eyes again. She takes a step back from you and turns around. 

“Promise me.”

The words get caught in her throat. Her lip trembles. “Okay.”

Outside, rain starts to fall softly, tapping against the rotting wood of the cabin. 

She breaks the new silence. “I should've been there. I should've taken my rifle out, anything-”

“El, it's not your fault. Look at me,” you say. She looks at you over her shoulder. You nearly crumble at her red eyes and wet cheeks. “Never blame yourself. You hear me?”

She just squeezes her eyes shut, willing for this to all go away. 

You walk to her, putting your hands on her shoulders and leaning your forehead against her back. You tried not to look at the bite. 

“Ellie.”

“Yeah.”

“Will you give me one last good night?”

The soft pattering of the rain against the wood, trickling off the roof and into the ground. 

“Please?”

She says nothing, instead turning around and gently capturing your lips in a kiss. Your bloodied hands find her wet cheeks, noting that the tears haven't stopped. 

Ellie wanted to give you everything you wanted and more, and she had sworn she would from the moment she met you. If this was the last thing you ever asked from her, she would give it to you. 

But it was so unbelievably hard knowing that this time would be your last. 

She pushed you back against the wall, nearly devouring you. The salty mix of your tears and hers slipped into the kiss, but you didn't care. She moved her hand down to cup you where you wanted her.

You bucked your hips into the friction, already needing her. You began to undo your belt, but Ellie’s hand on your wrist stopped you. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” She said, voice gravelly. 

“Yes, El,” you said. “I don't know where I’ll be tomorrow, or…what I’ll be,” she let out a shaky breath, “but I know I want to be with you right now.”

She sniffled and nodded, getting on her knees to take your belt off. She threw it to the side, unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them down along with your panties. You opened your legs wider for her.

She ran two fingers through your slit before sinking one into your hole, tongue giving kitten licks to your folds. 

You could tell that she wasn't going to be as vocal as usual. 

You couldn't really blame her. 

You whimpered as she added another finger, pumping them in and out of you, filling the air with obscene sounds. She lapped at your cunt, trying her hardest to give you what you want. 

“Ellie, don't stop,” you moaned, whimpering when she used her other arm to hold your hips down against the wall. “Almost there.”

You could feel the coil tightening inside if you quickly, your climax coming in record time. You thought for a moment that it was because of how sensitive you were in this moment. 

You moaned wantonly and grabbed her hair as you came, her tongue working on your clit and her fingers scissoring you open. 

You expected her to stop, but she kept going. In fact, she added a third finger. 

You heard her moan into your pussy, looking down to find her grinding into the floor, a wet spot forming on her jeans. She was so messy, your juices coating her face, red-rimmed eyes and messy hair, rutting into nothing and moaning into your cunt. 

When the fabric of her jeans caught her clit just right, she took her mouth of your pussy, replacing it with her thumb instead, and leaned her forehead against your stomach. You came with her from the sensitivity, both of your moans filling the air, pleading for more. 

When she laid you down on a thin blanket from her backpack and undressed both of you, you noted the scared look in her eyes. The way she looked at you, drinking you in, knowing this would be your last time together. Some part of you wished that neither of you knew about the bite, that you didn't have to treat this so differently. That you could enjoy it. Enjoy your last moments together.

She threw her leg over yours, kissing you messily, yet softly, as she ground into you, folds slotting against each other. You both moaned each time your clits touched. 

As she grew closer to her climax, she buried her face into your neck. You tried to ignore the feeling of her tears trickling down and pooling at your nape. 

You came together. You moaned, but she cried out, more guttural than you'd ever heard from her. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you—!” she cried into your neck as she came. 

When you slowed down, she held you like that without words. 

“I love you too, Ellie,” you whispered, just loud enough for her to hear over the rain. 

You held each other as the sun set, through the night, and through the rain. 

The golden rays of the sun shone through the cracks in the walls and shudders, dancing across her bare body pressed into your side. Hours ago, her body had stopped shaking and her tears stopped spilling onto your chest, your hands running patterns across her skin lulling her into an exhausted sleep. 

Your eyes had never closed, however. You knew you wanted to be awake to feel it happening, to know when you were losing control over your body. For Ellie’s sake. 

The rain had stopped and the clouds were cleared. Birds sang outside and all the animals went about their day. You thought it strange that the world would continue on without you, that people will age and new ones will be born, that people will die and people will forget about you in time. Your impermanence had never struck you as hard as it did now. 

You felt the twitching in your feet first, unnoticeable at first, but is it crawled up your limbs, you knew it was happening. It happened over three or four hours, and once you felt your neck jerk the first time, you knew. 

Your blood didn't feel like your own anymore, like someone exsanguinated it and replaced it with jelly, slowing you down. Your vision wasn't gone, but you couldn't focus it on anything. It constantly sounded like you were underwater, drowning, gasping for air to no avail. 

Your eyes hardly left the woman in your arms, clinging to you even in sleep. You know she'd curse herself for falling asleep, but you were thankful for it. You were thankful that you could press a tearful kiss to her forehead before gently escaping her grasp, muffling your sobs behind your hand. You threw your shirt and jeans on quietly, dizzy, slipping your shoes on. Your world spun, your lungs burned, your head throbbed. 

You picked up your pistol, watching Ellie stir slightly in her sleep, creamy skin illuminated in the sun, her freckled face creased slightly with worry, even in sleep. You put the gun in your pocket. 

You tried, as silently as you could, to move the barricade from the door. You were thankful that she was a heavy sleeper. 

You were thankful that you didn't have to see the despair in her eyes when you said a forceful goodbye, thankful that you didn't have to convince her to let you go, thankful that your last memory of her was this, thankful that her last memory of you was bliss. 

Through your sobs, you squeezed through the door and shut it behind you, leaning your head against it, willing for this all to be a nightmare. It wasn't, because you started to feel something else take over your will. 

Before you could lose it completely, you forced yourself into a dense brush of greenery, somewhere you hoped she wouldn't look. 

You panted, sweating, trembling, as you took the pistol out of your pocket. It shook with your hand as you held it to your temple, bright eyes taking in all of the world that you could before it was gone. 

You squeezed them tightly, willing yourself to stop shaking. You conjured the image of your lover in your mind, her auburn hair, milky skin, pretty green eyes, and those familiar freckles. How could you ever forget her?

You took a breath in, and breathed out: “I love you.”

Ellie sat up in terror when she heard the sound of a single gunshot ring through the air, seeping in through the cracks of the window and underneath the door. It took her a moment to process what it was, reaching for her pistol next to her discarded clothes. When her fingertips brushed the gun, it settled in. She craned her head to look beside her, half expecting you to still be asleep. 

When she remembered what the sound of the gunshot meant, what you had made her promise, her lungs collapsed and she couldn't take any air in. Tears spilled from her eyes as she heaved, clawing at her chest for any relief. It didn't come. 

She knew it never would.

When Joel got word that you and Ellie still hadn't returned from patrol, he worried that you'd gotten stuck in the landslide. He pleaded with Tommy and Jesse to go out with him to search, knowing he wouldn't be at peace without knowing what happened. 

When the two agreed, they set off on horses to clear all of the checkpoints. It took an extra day to get around the mountain range that was blocked off by rubble. 

When they only had one more checkpoint to clear, Joel got increasingly worried. If you weren't here, where were you?

When the three men got to the cabin, they held their breath as they dismounted their horses. Joel tried pushing the door open, but the barricade stopped him. It took the three of them to open the door, pushing the barricade out of the way. 

The open door shed light on the figure against the back wall covered in a thin blanket, trembling. Joel let out the breath he was holding in when he saw Ellie. She was clutching your backpack to her chest, trying to keep any remaining part of you alive, hers. 

She had hardly noticed Joel pick her up and carry her to his horse, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. She squeezed her eyes shut, not ready to see the world without you in it. 

“Ellie,” Joel’s gruff voice intruded her thoughts, “where is she?”

Ellie’s words failed her. All she could do was point to her forearm, to the bite that only Joel and Tommy knew hid underneath the tattoo. 

She doesn't remember what happened after that. 

It was warmer now, the flowers blossoming and the green coming back to Jackson’s landscape. Ellie sat facing your headstone, wishing you could've seen it. Wishing she could've shown it to you. 

“It’s summer now,” she began. “We started planting these new flowers in your garden…Joel thinks you would've liked them. I think so too. They're really colourful…you know.”

She hesitated.

“Sometimes I wonder if you can hear me. Or if I’m just talking to myself like a crazy person. Joel says it's good for me. I don't know if I believe him.”

She played with her hands, tracing her tattoo. 

“I wish you were still here,” she whispered. Her eyes drifted over all the flowers left by your grave from all the people who loved you. 

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched a pretty red hummingbird land on your grave, searching for pollen in the flowers.

ellie taglist:

@chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz @pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap @wrendermedone @kissyslut @felsweb

permanent taglist:

@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

[holyblonded]

go ahead and cry little girl | golden girl

pairings: paige bueckers x oc (for a second) diana taurasi x daughter!oc, alexia putellas x teen!oc

summary: kenza never could quite understand why her dad could never show up; times throughout the years kenza has been let down

warnings: daddy issues and deadbeat dad 👻

notes: based off of real experiences 🫡 READ KENZA’S WIKI PAGE FOR BACKGROUND INFO

FOURTEEN YEAR OLD KENZA STARED LONGINGLY AT THE SEAT IN THE FRIENDS AND FAMILY SECTION.

It was her first El Clasico with the senior team and she knew her mom had told everybody. Kenza even invited him. She could hear her teammates celebrating their win as she should be, yet there she was staring at the cold, bare seat. Her eyes shifted to her Mom and Diana who both held sympathetic looks on their faces.

Kenza's inner turmoil was broken by Alexia who ran up and grabbed her face. "What's wrong, Amorcita? You scored the winning goal!"

Kenza couldn't bring herself to answer, instead she kept staring at the seat. Alexia followed her eyes, and after a silent conversation with Nor, she had figured it out. "Lo siento, mi Princesa," was all Alexia could offer as Kenza shoved her head to her chest.

"Why didn't he show up?" Kenza cried, loudly.

"Smile, Kenny!" Diana Taurasi told her freshly turned nine year daughter. Kenza smiled showing her gums off to the camera as the flash went off. "Look at you, pretty girl. Finally nine."

The family had decided to spend Kenza's ninth birthday in London as day after the Olympics ended. While Kenza, was excited to see her moms, she saw them quite often, she was quite revved to see her dad, someone she hadn't seen since early May.

"Mama, when is dad getting here?" Kenza decided to ask her mom. Kenza carefully observed her mom tense up before quickly recovering.

Nor, with a tight smile on her lips, responded, "Let me check, Chiquita."

Diana seemed to pick up on her fiancee's mood, "Aye Kenny, you ready to see Auntie Sue and Auntie Meg?"

Kenza's eyes brightened at the mention of her favorite aunties, "Wait, let me go put on my shoes," the birthday girl ran up the stairs of the rental as Nor unknowingly let go of the breath she was holding.

"Where is he?" Diana asked bitterly. She and the retired NBA player have publicly and privately bumped heads numerous times. Akoni calling her a "wife stealer." While Diana didn't like his alcoholism and reckless behavior around her family.

Nor sighed as tears welled in her eyes, "He's not coming at all. Got caught drinking and driving, he got charged with a DUI so now he's being checked into court ordered rehab," Her heart truly hurt for her daughter.

"Fuck," Diana muttered before pulling Nor into her, "Hey, Kenny is strong."

"That's the thing, she's nine. She's not supposed to be this strong. I keep letting him hurt her," Nor rancorously ranted, a tear slipping down her face before being quickly wiped away by Diana.

"It’s not your fault he is the easy he is,” Diana said through clenched teeth, “Don't worry, I'll tell her." She offered, gently directing her distraught fiancée to the couch before going upstairs to break the news to you. Five minutes later, Diana came downstairs with a sobbing child in her arms who just wanted comfort from her moms.

Kenza leg bounced up and down in the rather comfortable chair, lost in her thoughts. This was possibly one of the biggest nights of her life, the Ballon d'Or Awards; being nominated for the Kopa Féminin Awards has been the highlight of Kenza's season. If she won this award, she would be the first ever recipient to win the category.  Most importantly, it was the first award show her whole family was coming to.

Paige looked at the girl beside her and rested her hand on her knee before whispering in her ear, "I told you once, and I'll tell you again. You are going to win, stop being so nervous."

"I can't help it," Kenza mumbled back, inhaling sharply. Her eyes watched the stage, seeing her Auntie Meg take the stage.

A bit zoned out, Kenza came back to it when Paige nudged her as Megan announced the winner. "The first Kopa Féminin Award goes to..." Megan smiled as her voice broke with emotion, "my Kenny, Kenza Creoxells."

Blood rushed to Kenza ear as she sat there with a dumbfounded expression on her face as she took in the information. She got up after Alexia came to the table and basically pushed her out of the chair.

Taking the stage after accepting the award and hugging her auntie. Kenza looked in the crowd scanning the room, she saw her mom and mami, Paige, her Barca teammates, even some of her friends from UConn and Yale. Her eyes paused on the empty seat, her eyes going to her moms who has the same sympathetic looks on their faces. A odd sense of deja vu washed over Kenza before she shook her head of her thoughts.

"Kenza Creoxells is the first ever recipient of the Kopa Femenin Award earning it for her work with Barcelona Femení." The announcer said making people cheer louder, as the picture of Kenza doing her signature celebration is blown up on the screen.

"Wow, I have nothing to say but thank you. Thank you to my Mama who let me move in with Auntie Alexia because she saw that this was truly my dream. Thank you to my Mami who literally never let me quit no matter how much I wanted to. Thank you to everyone at Barcelona for giving me a chance and my teammates for helping raise me. Thank you for my team and Yale, my friends as UConn and Paige for always being there. You all have truly become my family and I can't ask for any more than that, thank you," Kenza sniffled before she walked off the stage and more applause thundered throughout the building.

Kenza sat outside of her own party, playing with the Barcelona flag wrapped around her. She had escaped the party after winning the Kopa Award, feeling particularly overwhelmed. Her initial plan on sneaking out with Paige was squashed when she saw Mapi talking Paige's ear off.

"My Enzy! Look at ya! Kop' Winner!" A familiar deep voice thundered.

Kenza looked up from her place on the steps, "Dad?" She quickly got up and took a step toward him, "What are you doing here?"

"My daughter won the... the award! Why wouldn't I be here?" Taking the step forward was a big regret on Kenza's part as the smell of alcohol became prominent. Kenza took in his appearance: Red eyes, stumbling around, she knew he wasn’t sober.

Kenza smiled wryly, "You forgot. You forgot like everything else. Why? Why can't you be a good dad for day, just a day." Kenza sobbed as she sat back down on the steps.

Akoni seemed to sober up at the sound of his daughter's sobs. He sat next to her and sighed, "I have a lot of regrets in life, but having you isn't one of them. Not being there for you, is. I'm a deadbeat, drunk with too much money. I was never worthy enough to be your father, I knew that as soon as I held you. After your mom and I broke up, I spiraled. Don't be like me Enzy, be better."

Kenza sobs only grew louder as she rested her head against Akoni's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Enzy."

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [1.8K]

Honestly? It was your own damn fault. 

You could admit that. You’d taken the bait set by a couple of smartass fifteen year olds, too proud and too stubborn to let them get the better of you. 

So when Max had asked you to take her and the rest of the party to the skatepark one Saturday, you’d agreed with a smile and the condition that they had to arrange a ride home with someone else. Preferably someone they knew. Like Eddie, or Nancy, you’d added on hastily, rolling your eyes when Max huffed. 

Then it all started when Will was lugging his bike out of your trunk and Lucas and Mike were comparing rollerblades. El was by your side, squinting at the older boys going up and down the ramps and then Dustin appeared before you, holding a skateboard. 

He was grinning, looking like he was made up of trouble and bad decisions. He wiggled his brows at you and you flicked the brim of his cap, messing up the curls underneath. 

“What’s that face for?” You asked, suspicious.

“I bet you can’t do an ollie,” he told you, his voice smug. 

You eyed him, unsure whether to even bother asking but then the rest of the kids fell silent and waited on your answer. 

You huffed, already regretting it. “What the fu-fudge is an ollie?”

Max eagerly demonstrated, pushing the boys out of the way as she jumped and kicked the board, spinning it in the air before landing on top again, a perfect execution of a move you most definitely couldn’t do. You hadn’t even stood on a skateboard in over six years. 

And even when you were fourteen, you weren’t all that good at balancing. 

Dustin turned back to you, grinning, holding the board out expectantly. The underside of it was brightly coloured and hand drawn by Will, red vines wrapping around a cartoon monster with too many teeth, demonised dogs dancing around a full moon above it. 

“What?” You asked him, staring at the board as if it was offensive. “You expect me to do that?”

Dustin shrugged and Mike snickered, although he quickly fell silent when you glared. 

“If you can, we’ll get Eddie to pick us up,” Dustin smiled. It was sly and innocent all at once, and you narrowed your eyes at him. “But if you can’t, you gotta come get us.”

“And take us for ice cream!” Lucas quickly added. 

You barked out a laugh, slamming the trunk shut and spinning the car keys around your finger. You headed back to the driver's side, reaching for the door. 

“This isn’t a negotiation guys, you can call Eddie to get you, I have plans,” you gestured to the pay phone by the roadside. “Be good and don’t be too stupid.”

You were stopped in your tracks by Mike, grinning at you as he tucked his hands under his armpits and started flapping, clucking comically. It didn’t take long for Max and Dustin to join and before you knew it, even Will and El had started to make the same noises - although you weren’t overly convinced that El knew what it meant. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” you barked out, brow furrowed. You hated how annoyed you felt. “Quit it, or I’ll make sure you’ll all have to walk home, you little shits.”  

“That whole ‘no swearing in front of kids’ rule that Nancy set up really didn’t last long, huh?” Max asked, eyes wide and full of faux innocence. 

You glared at her. 

“C’mon,” Dustin urged, smiling wide, eyes crinkled. “Try it.” He held out the board again. 

“Bet you five bucks she won’t do it,” Mike whispered to Lucas - not all that quietly. 

Lucas bumped his fist against his friends, sealing the deal. “She’s too old,” he nodded, “she’ll break a hip or something.”

You knew they were baiting you. You did. You weren’t stupid. But you were stubborn and the underhand - and false - comments they made had something twisting in your chest. You were never having kids, you told yourself. And yet, you narrowed your eyes and grabbed the board from Dustin, ignoring the way they all cheered. 

One badly timed jump, a roll of the board and sickening crunch later, you were sitting on the ground holding your ankle and Dustin was standing in front of the pay phone looking all kinds of terrified. 

“Call him!” Max yelled to the boy, grimacing down at you as Will paced around behind her. “She can’t drive now, you idiot!”

Dustin looked panicked, his hat in one had as his curls flopped wildly in his eyes. “He’s gonna kill us.”

“Us?” Mike yelped, pointing a finger back at Dustin, “it was your fault, asshole!”

“Don’t swear,” you moaned, hissing when you tried to bend your ankle. The cement was cold beneath you and your ass was starting to get numb from sitting but there was absolutely no way you could stand up, not even with the offered help that Will kept trying to give you. 

“Lucas,” Dustin tried, “you call him!” He waved his fist, the coins from your cars cup holder clinking in his hold. 

Lucas laughed and shook his head, “absolutely not, he’s gonna lose his shit.”

“Don’t fucking swear,” you intoned again, feeling utterly miserable as the kids stood around tou, squabbling back and forth with their boards and skates in hand. 

Finally, eventually, just as the afternoon was starting to turn into evening and the sky was turning a pretty pink, Dustin jammed some quarters into the phone and hid his face in his hat. 

It rang only a few times before you watched the boy swallow hard and manage a wavering “oh, hey, Steve… here’s the thing…”

You didn’t have to wait long for the BMW to come into sight, screeching down the street before squealing to a halt by the sidewalk. One wheel bumped the curb and the car was left a little squint as Steve jumped out, still in his Family Video vest. 

“Babe,” he groaned in greeting, hurrying to your side as he knelt down, brow furrowed and concern knitted in the space between. “Baby.”

You were awfully sore by that point, aching ankle, the skin around the bone red and swollen looking. Plus, your ass was cold and numb from sitting, your head pounding from the way the kids had argued above you for the best part of forty minutes. 

It was easy to let the tears spring to your eyes at the sight of your boyfriend. Definitely pathetic, but easy all the same. It was a hot prick at the corner of your lashes and although you didn’t let them fall, Steve made a soft noise of sympathy as you looked up at him with glassy eyes and downturned lips. 

“Hi, Stevie,” you murmured, holding your hands out to him. 

Dustin and Mike snickered at the nickname, a sound that quickly turned into fake coughing as the older boy glared at them. Steve tutted and took your hands in his own, moving carefully and slowly as he helped you stand. 

You kept your bad ankle up, hissing at the weight of your foot but Steve let you lean on him, an arm around your waist for balance. 

“What happened?” He asked you, voice soft and kind. He looked so sad for you, lips at your hairline to press a kiss there. “Hmm?”

You didn’t mean to glance at the kids. You didn’t. But Steve caught it and the boys were horrible at looking not guilty at the best of times, so when they caught the older boys eye, they all grimaced and dropped their gaze to the ground, examining loose rocks and old gum. 

“Really?” 

You didn’t know Steve was talking to you until he tapped at your chin with his knuckles. You looked up at him, pouting, not really able to justify your actions but soon, the boy was rolling his eyes and fighting a smile. 

“You’re so stubborn,” he muttered, helping you hop over to his car. “Seriously, babe, you let those little gremlins get you on a skateboard?”

Dustin was lingering, peering at you through the window, still looking panicked. “We’re sorry, Steve!”

Max nudged at him as Lucas sighed, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“What happened to plausible deniability, Henderson?” Mike grunted. 

“We broke Steve’s girlfriend!” Dustin cried back and you snorted despite the pain that throbbed in your ankle. 

Steve was too busy dragging your seatbelt over your chest, clicking you in as if it was both your arms that were broken. But you were feeling particularly sorry for yourself by the point, so you let him look after you, a kiss pressed to your forehead, a cheek and the corner of your lips before pulled himself back out of the car. 

You couldn’t really hear the scolding he was giving the kids through the closed door, the sound muffled and drowned out by the screech of wheels and brakes from the park behind them. But Dustin looked contrite, El and Will were slowly backing away and Max was arguing back the loudest. 

You were still pouting when Steve dropped himself into the driver's seat, his work best bundled into his fist and thrown into the back of the car. He looked a little exasperated, hair standing messily on end from running his hand through it. He turned to you with a frown, noting the way you were trying to keep your foot off of the ground. 

“Can we go to yours?” You asked softly, hoping to garner some sympathy with doe eyes and a quiet voice, despite the way it really was your own stupid fault. “Please?”

Steve let out a huff of a laugh, glancing at you briefly as he pulled back out onto the road. He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze and shook his head with a smile that told you he thought you were anything but funny. 

“Sweetheart, if you meant ‘can we go to the hospital,’ then sure, I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

You groaned, sounding almost too pathetic but you didn’t care.

“Steve—”

“Babe.”

You huffed, head thrown back against the seat and Steve tried his best not to laugh at your petulance. You didn’t like hospitals, he knew that, but your ankle looked like a grapefruit and he wasn’t going to let you sit in pain. 

“C’mon,” he coaxed, threading your fingers through his as he kept one hand on the wheel. Steve pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, warm and sweet. “I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”

You sighed, staring down at your stupid ankle. 

“Promise?” You eventually asked. Not that it mattered, Steve was pulling into the hospital parking lot. You were going whether you wanted to or not. “You can’t leave me, ‘kay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve assured you, leaning over to give you a proper kiss, finger and thumb tugging your chin to tilt your head for him. “C’mon, Tony Hawk, let’s get you patched up.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Right Place in Time

Summary: What if Steve was in the woods with Chrissy and Eddie getting weed for his headaches?

@disrespectedgoatman @estrellami-1 @darkrose517 @panicatthediaz @mandriice @nightmareglitter @limpingpenguin @wonderland-girl143-blog

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen - Chapter Fifteen - Chapter Sixteen - Chapter Seventeen - Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Tw: Laura makes one final appearance. I had to make Eddie do this. 😆

Two days later. . .

Things had settled down a little now, although everyone was still pretty jumpy, and they would probably never stop looking over their shoulder. There was a sense of relief, though, knowing that Vecna was dead and that Chrissy had felt him die, so there was no doubt about it. According to Chrissy, El, Will, Mike, Jonathan, and a guy named Argyle were on their way back to Hawkins. Currently, they were helping Chrissy move out of her house and into her uncle's. They were packing up her things and her brother's. Steve had thought it was hilarious when Chrissy pulled up the floorboard of her brother's room in front of Laura and found all the things Matty had hidden from his mother. The look on Laura's face was priceless, especially when Chrissy flipped her off. Laura was standing off to the side, watching through pursed lips as they moved the last of their stuff out.

"Oh, I've got one thing to say," Eddie said, setting a box down.

Steve and Chrissy watched as he started licking all the things in her tidy kitchen. Laura shrieked when he pulled his pants down and started wiggling his naked butt on her counter.

"Get out!" Laura yelled.

Eddie grinned and quickly pulled up his pants before grabbing the box. He hightailed it out of the house, giggling with Steve and Chrissy.

"Eddie!" Chrissy shrieked with laughter. "I can't believe you did that!"

"I'm sorry, was it wrong of me?" Eddie asked, batting his eyelashes at her.

"Okay, what did we miss?" Dustin asked as he stopped loading boxes into Eddie's van.

Chrissy and Steve laughed harder when Eddie wiggled his butt.

"Oh, you know, just me being a pain in the ass," Eddie laughed.

Max rolled her eyes as she took the last box from him and loaded up in the van. She immediately headed for Steve’s car and slid into the passenger's seat.

"Shotgun!" Max called out.

"That's not fair! I was distracted," Dustin said. "Steve!"

"What? I'm not actually your mother. Get your ass in the car before she calls the cops on us," Steve said.

Chrissy's belongings were packed away into Eddie's van, and she crawled into the passenger's seat of his van, laughing. Eddie climbed into the driver's seat and peeled out of the driveway, allowing Steve out in front of him. Steve watched from the rear view mirror as Chrissy stuck half her body out of the window, raising it above the van. She raised her middle fingers at the house.

"Fuck you very much!" They heard Chrissy scream.

Steve laughed as Max, Dustin, and Lucas cheered for her. When they pulled up to the Fisher household. Vickie, Robin, and Matthew were unloading some more of Chrissy's things that they had rescued from the church donations. Steve scowled for a moment, remembering the look on Chrissy's face when she found out that her mother had donated some of her stuff. Luckily, the pastor thought it was odd and set the stuff aside. As they were unpacking Chrissy's things, Max and Lucas started bursting into song. Steve laughed, and Dustin groaned when they realized it was the Neverending Story song. Steve couldn't help but join in with everyone else looking on in confusion except for Robin. She rolled her eyes and started singing as well with Dustin burying his face in his hands.

"I hate you," Dustin said, without heat.

"Someone let me in so I can also tease the butthead," Eddie said with a grin when they finished.

"No!" Dustin shrieked.

"I'll tell you guys later," Steve whispered to Chrissy and Eddie.

Once they unpacked all of Chrissy and Matty's things, Matthew clapped his hands together with a grin.

"As a way of welcoming Chrissy home, I figured that I would make us a celebratory lunch, and you're all - ," Matthew started to say and then the phone rang. "Goddamnit."

Matthew disappeared and came back a few moments later with a frown on his face.

"Bad news, my dears, I have to go into work," Matthew sighed. "A difficult patient has come in, and he's a bit paranoid, so he only trusts me to work on him. As difficult as he is, I do like him, and I want him alive so . . . "

"It's okay, Daddy, we get it," Vickie said.

"Yeah, nothing to apologize for when you're saving a life," Chrissy said with a smile.

"It's okay, Mr. Fisher, we'll go over to Steve’s and I'll make us something. I'm more familiar with his kitchen," Dustin said.

"Stop offering up my place like it's yours!" Steve exclaimed, half joking.

"Well, it's not my fault that you made it so homey when my mother and I lived there when our house was being fumigated!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Yeah. My place is fine. He does make the best pizza," Steve said, affectionately ruffling his hair.

"And I have just the movie to watch when we get there," Robin said and looked at Vickie with a smile. "I rented it special for a certain someone."

Vickie looked confused at first, and then she made a squealing sound when she realized.

"You didn't?! The Wizard of Oz?!" Vickie asked.

"I did!" Robin exclaimed.

Vickie squealed again, hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek.

"Well, I'm glad you guys have a backup plan," Matthew said, pulling Vickie and Chrissy into a hug. "Even if I can't be there."

"Oh, Uncle Matthew, we can celebrate with you anytime. We should have dinner just the three of us," Chrissy said.

"That sounds like a plan, too," Matthew grinned.

He said goodbye to Vickie and Chrissy, then to everyone else before leaving. Shortly after, everyone left for Steve’s place. As soon as they got there, Steve called Nancy and the rest of Hellfire to invite them over. Steve then groaned, clutching his stomach. He collapsed onto the couch.

"You okay, baby?" Chrissy asked.

"Yeah. I think I overdid it," Steve said.

"Well, you just relax, sweetheart," Eddie said. "We'll supervise the butthead in the kitchen."

"You mean annoy him," Chrissy giggled and Eddie shrugged.

Eddie pushed his hair back, kissed his forehead, and then his lips. Chrissy leaned down to kiss him too and then started to walk towards the kitchen.

"Wait," Steve said, and they stopped. "You guys free a couple of Saturdays from now?"

"Yeah," Chrissy grinned.

"Yes, quite busy, I have this thing - oof, Chrissy! I'm kidding, kidding. Absolutely free for you, big boy," Eddie grinned.

"Well, I was thinking since I'd be in much better shape by then, I'd figure that's when we have our first official date," Steve said. "What do you say?"

"Definitely," they said and kissed both his cheeks.

As they were leaving, Vickie, Robin, Max, and Lucas were entering the living room.

"Good luck. He wouldn't let us help," Robin scowled.

Eddie just cackled and dragged Chrissy into the kitchen.

Robin plopped down next to Steve while Vickie sat against her legs. Max sat down next to her and pulled Lucas into her lap, pressing her cheek against his chest as he wrapped an arm around her.

"How are you doing?" Robin asked Steve.

"Good, I mean, my bites are feeling itchy, but Matthew says that's good. It means it's healing. Still hurts like a bitch though as well as the road rash and my throat," Steve said.

"Man, life just keeps kicking the shit out of you, doesn't it?" Robin asked.

"Out of all of us, but I feel like some good luck is being sent my way," Steve said, smiling.

"Eddie and Chrissy?" Robin grinned.

"Yeah, our first official date is in a couple of weeks," Steve said.

"Ooh, what are you going to wear?" Robin asked.

"Well, I was thinking Eddie's vest, Chrissy's cheerleading skirt, and nothing else," Steve said.

"Good choice," she said wisely while Vickie giggled at her feet.

"I do not want to be hearing this," Lucas groaned.

"So, if I asked you to put on a skirt, you wouldn't?" Max asked.

"Well, uh, I - " Lucas stuttered.

"Relax, stalker, I'm fucking with you," Max laughed and Lucas breathed a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, there was screaming coming from the kitchen and the sound of metal kitchenware crashing. Eddie's laughter soon followed.

"I'm not even going to worry about it," Steve said, leaning against Robin.

A moment later, Eddie entered the living room and plopped down on the floor at Steve's feet, next to Vickie.

"I have been banned from the kitchen for life," Eddie said with a scoff. "Can you believe that?"

"Yes," Robin, Steve, and Max said.

"Whatever. Chrissy can stay forever, apparently. She reminds Dustin of his mother, and he's a huge mama's boy," Eddie said, rolling his eyes but smiling fondly.

Eddie had just taken off Steve’s shoe and began rubbing his feet when they heard the front door open. Nancy came in with Jeff, Frank, and Gareth. She was holding a notebook in her hand and beaming with pride.

"I finished it. The article," Nancy said.

"The article?" Eddie asked.

"On you and Hellfire," Nancy said.

"Oh, is that what all those questions were about yesterday?" Eddie asked.

"Yes," Nancy laughed, and she gave him the notebook.

"It's really fucking good, man," Jeff said as he plopped down on the floor and pulled Gareth against him.

Eddie's eyes scanned the page and he beamed with pride, kissing the paper.

"Oh, Wheeler! Marvelous! We should have this framed!" Eddie exclaimed.

"I still need to turn it in," Nancy said, laughing.

"Right," Eddie said, handing her back the notebook, and then his head snapped to look at Jeff. "When did this happen?"

"Oh, you know, it just happened," Gareth said, blushing.

"Cute," Eddie grinned, and Gareth scowled, flipping him off.

A few moments later, Chrissy came bounding into the living room with a smile on her face.

"The first batch of pizzas are in the oven," Chrissy announced.

Just as she said that, a knock on the door sounded. Steve watched as Eddie jumped up and began to count.

"We're all here, right?" Eddie asked. "I mean, besides Uncle Wayne and Matthew, they're both working."

Nancy was the one who went to answer the door, and everyone listened carefully as they heard the door open. Nancy let out a happy shriek. Suddenly, Nancy was pulling El, Will, and Jonathan into the living room. Behind them was a man with long hair. Steve assumed it was Argyle. As soon as El spotted Chrissy, she smiled and pulled her into a hug.

"Sister," El said.

"Sister," Chrissy grinned. "I'm glad we're finally meeting face to face."

"Me too. How are you?" El asked.

"Adjusting," Chrissy said. "Still not used to the fact that I have powers."

"I will help," El said.

"Thank you," Chrissy said softly.

Lucas had pulled himself off of Max long enough to hug Will and Mike tightly while Max moved to hug El. Dustin skidded into the living room, covered in flour.

"Will! Mike!" Dustin screeched and joined the group hug.

"Ugh, you're covered in flour. What have you been doing?" Will asked.

"Making pizzas," Dustin replied. "I have enough to make another one."

"Do you have pineapples?" Argyle asked.

"I think so," he said. "Pineapples on pizza?"

"Try it before you deny it," Argyle said. "It's okay, I'm a professional pizza maker. I'll show you how it's done, my little Hobbit friend," Argyle said.

"I like you already," Dustin said as they walked into the kitchen.

"Unbelievable, replacing me with another long-haired guy?" Eddie muttered. "Does he also smoke weed?"

"Actually -," Jonathan started to say, but Steve gave him a warning look, smirking.

"I would never put pineapples on pizza," Eddie muttered.

Steve knew he wasn't really jealous of Argyle, just still a little bitter about being kicked out of the kitchen. He smiled when Eddie slumped against his legs. Steve smiled and ran his hands through Eddie's hair. Will looked at him in surprise.

"Oh, Eddie's my boyfriend," Steve exclaimed.

"And mine," Chrissy giggled. "We're all dating."

"You can do that?" El asked.

"You can do whatever you want, sweetheart. . .well, within reason," Eddie grinned.

"Dustin's making pizzas, we're going to watch them while watching the Wizard of Oz," Chrissy said. "You should join us."

"I have not seen it," El admitted.

"Oh, you're going to love it," Vickie beamed.

"Alright, settle down there, Glinda," Robin said fondly as she ran her fingers through Vickie's hair.

Everyone got resettled in the living room as everyone made introductions that needed it. Just as the first batch of pizzas got done, someone knocked on the door.

"My turn! I'll get it," Eddie grinned.

He hopped up and bounced into the hallway. A moment later they heard him squawk loudly.

"Hey! Aren't you supposed to be dead?!"

A moment later, a figure appeared in the doorway. Steve didn't recognize him at first because he had lost a lot of weight and hair. He was also wearing a baseball cap. It was Hopper.

"Dad!" El sobbed.

She jumped up off the floor and threw herself into his arms. Joyce was watching fondly from the doorway. El cried heavily into his arms. Everyone let them have their moment, watching them in awe as father and daughter were reunited. El pulled away from to hug Joyce.

"I am glad you went to your conference," El said.

"How?" Will asked.

Hopper looked around the room with caution.

"Yes, everyone in the room has been through the recent shitstorm and has, in fact, been caught up," Eddie said, sitting back into his spot.

"I was held captive by the Russians for months," Hopper said.

Steve winced and rubbed his neck, remembering what they did to him and Robin. He couldn't imagine being with that for months. Jesus. There was a new respect for this man, a thousand times greater than the one before. How the fuck did he survive? As he watched El introduce Chrissy to Hopper and Joyce, he realized how he did it. He must really love them a lot to have helped get him through all that. There's nothing like the bond of family, and as he sat here surrounded by all these people, he realized they were his family. Home was anywhere, as long as you had the people you love by your side or in your heart. The same thought ran through his mind even two weeks later, as he sat at the picnic table with Eddie and Chrissy, having a picnic in the woods. There was no place like home.

And they lived happily ever after. . .

[louistomlinsoncouk]

In late April Louis Tomlinson surprised everyone with the release of Live, an album with fourteen live tracks just before the start of his Latin American tour that is taking him through various countries of the south of the continent. In fact, this weekend has been around Brazil.

In Spain we could see him not long ago and it was an absolute pleasure to see him fill for the first time the Wizink Center in Madrid alone. It's clear that, as Nebulossa would say, he's at a good time and looks like he's going to lengthen.

In fact, for Spain it already has several festivals closed for this summer that will allow us to see you again on stage. And that gives us hope to share moments as special as the one that this weekend has lived in Curitibia, his last concert in Brazil.

Look at this place, it's unbelievable. I did these albums specifically by thinking about live moments, but I never expected places of this size. "Hearing the songs of Faith In the Future and listening and feeling their support in this huge place... I don't have the words," he said at the Ligga Arena.

His gesture with a fan

At one point in the concert, when he was playing Silver Tongues, he realized that there was someone very special in the front row. A girl with a visually impaired.

He was accompanied by his mother and carrying a sign saying, "I'm blind but your voice changed my life." Undoubtedly, a phrase that did not go unnoticed and that made him react.

He didn't hesitate to get off the stage, while singing, to get close to her and hug her so she could feel and recognize her while singing her to the ear.

A gesture that has gone around the world and has filled the networks with comments applauding his gesture and his great sensitivity to his fans.

At one point in the concert he showed off his arm to try to show he had chicken skin for the excitement he was living. I'm sure nothing comparable to that of his fans who gave it everything to show him how much they love him.

The next stop will be this Wednesday, May 15 in Montevideo, capital of Uruguay where they were looking forward to him and in Spain we continue to call days on the calendar until his return this summer.

(Translated from Spanish)

[wewebaggit]

I think it was because he was abused or something and apparently had drinking problems? Like bruh you cannot claim to use subversion of 80s horror genre tropes and at the same breath make your black character one of the victims without even focusing on it. Its just...? St can really use some criticism sometimes

Yep it was because he had drinking problems and was a disgrace to his family as per the voiceover that Patrick and we hear as he's riding in the car with Jason n the gang. And then Lucas mentions that he once saw him with a black eye. That's it. That's all.

Patrick deserved way better. Even discounting the fact that he's black. The same episode had the stupid mid air fight between Murray Yuri and Jim's girlfriend. That lasted longer than necessary. That existed. Both valid reasons for having a more fleshed out buildup to THE MOTHERFUCKING SACRIFICE FOR ONE OF THE FOUR (NOT FOURTEEN) GATES.

Maybe if they cooled it on Eleven slow jogging through the lab, eyes wide, breathing heavily and emoting nothingly, Jopper doomsday fucking, Elmike/Mileven, (God stop milking it, it's not great writing, we are gaslighting ourselves to believe it is cuz there was a time we thought the most they'd do for gay Will is have his best friend say something INCREDIBLY HOMOPHOBIC to him), a Russian plot sillier than season 3's - fucking talent, I could go on we could've had something justifying (at the risk of sounding repetitive) A MOTHERFUCKING SACRIFICE FOR ONE OF THE FOUR (NOT FOURTEEN) GATES.

Also leaving you with some of this:

Jason to Patrick

Mike to Lucas

Billy to Max about Lucas

Mike about the science fair contest

(Let me elaborate: It was a state competition and the result was political? MY conjecture is it was not because of frogface or a boy with no teeth or a boy who his town thought was queer - I'm suspecting it wasn't a statewide consensus. Who's left?)

Jason with Lucas

Andy with Erica

I'm not American so I'm not someone who gets the whole American experience of it. But American cultural colonisation means I'm somewhat aware of the tendencies in media. N to me personally I don't resonate with a white/black/brown American character on a racial level but just by how they're written n how well the work is performed. I do not live in a post racial world bt my country has its own different version of racism. That is to say any character being white/other colour is of ZERO value to me. So when I am consuming foreign media, I'll be like this is well written that is not. But then when I arrange them in order of well written to not or underwritten, it's a shade card alright. (🙋🏻🙆🏼🙅🏽🤷🏾🤦🏿) So ya. It's like white ppl tend to write white ppl better. What a discovery. Idk if to call it racist or "I don't see colour" in that I only see white cuz it is not a colour. (How is that for colour theory?) That is NOT to say that X CANNOT at all write about Y. Writing is after all a collaborative effort. It just means you gotta do both: collaborate and put effort.

ST exploits the tropes more than / before it subverts them. And like not in a good way. It's a fantastic show with plenty of opportunity to love it and shit on it in unequal measure tipping more in favour of shitting. And I'll be doing both. Especially regarding the characters that don't go by the name of Mike or Eleven. But them too.

You'll also see me Kali raging soon. Very soon. She might also be (DEFINITELY IS) why I have this whole new account anyway.

El's abuse > Kali's abuse. Okay. At least accepted within text by the writers. Want the "yass girlboss El shoulda snapped Angela's neck for....er...breaking your diorama and ....er......throwing milkshake on you" crowd to respectfully go. Just go. Go Away!

[kiraixi]

Secret GirlBoyfriend?

Wednesday 29th March ✩ NSFW:  “Caught in the Act” (Flip-Reverse) @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

ao3

“Okay, bye Steve!” 

Steve looks skeptical, “Are you sure Dustin? I don’t want any calls from the neighbours.” 

He puts on a slight frown, this plan needs to work. 

“We’re nearly fourteen, dude. A couple hours alone won’t kill us”

Steve mutters back, “Of course you’d say that.” Dustin grins,

“I’ll be two hours max.” He walks backwards glaring, “So don’t do anything stupid okay?”

Dustin salutes him off, “Aye captain!”

As soon the car starts, he dashes into the living room.

“He’s gone, we’re free to search!”

The party gets up. Well, minus the girls.

Max has been huffy since morning and El seems too engrossed in the movie to care.

Whatever, they don’t care as much as he does. But Dustin is Steve’s right hand man, said he was cool and everything!

This one secret he’s kept to his chest just means that Dustin needs to sleuth around and find out. Steve would never keep something from his best friend, right?

For the past two months Steve Harrington has been going steady with a secret girlfriend. He’s been so tight-lipped about it that the only hint Dustins’ been able to wrangle out of is that the lady’s a blonde.

He found bleached hairs in the passenger seat of Steve’s car. Only he has the privilege of a shotgun, so of course those strands must belong to the special someone.

Dustin’s definitely not jealous or resentful, nope not one bit.

Taking the stairs two at a time he pulls out a notebook, ready to jot down any discrepancies in the house.

The best room to check is Steve’s. Mike follows him inside while Lucas and Will check the other rooms for clues.

The room is messy, it seems like the laundry hasn’t been done in awhile. Dustin yanks open the closest draw and starts to rummage while Mike searches the desk.

He’s the one to break the silence of moving objects,

“Are you sure we should be looking?” Kicks over a gray sweatshirt, “I don’t wanna see anything– weird”

Dustin turns around pulling a crop top from the bottom more aggressively than he should. The whole drawer shakes.

It has a ‘LIFEGUARD’ emblem on the front. He waves it like a celebration flag. Totally not Steve’s style therefore,

“Look! This is definitely hers!” 

Mike gives him a look, “It’s a bit creepy you're so obsessed with this..”

He huffs, throwing the garment on the floor and notes down the item.

‘Lifeguard’

“If you’re too much of a coward to look then fine! I’m just being a good wingman checking if some random girl is good enough for Steve Harrington.”

“Whatever man, I’m just gonna go downstairs,” He walks towards the door. “Look under the bed, my sister loves to keep her secret stash of things there”

He salutes him off, “Thanks for the tip!”

Once Mike is well downstairs Dustin drops to his knees getting ready to crawl under, he spots a few things. A cardboard box and a piece of blue fabric?

He slides the box out first, then tries to reach for the cloth pulling it out to see better.

But as soon as he realises what it is Dustin gives a girlish screech that he will forever deny. 

It's a freaking thong. Ew!

Lucas and Will come running from the passageway, once they spot the offending item Lucas starts laughing while Will looks slightly uncomfortable.

“Dude! What did you think you’d find under someone's bed?”

He tries to hide his embarrassment, “Shut up man, just tell me what you two found.” Kicking the lace back under the bed he sits down.

Will speaks first, “Well in the bathroom there was a feather earring, creams–” 

“And some rings,” Lucas adds. “But they were really big..”

He frowns, “Okay?”

“Yeah, maybe Steve started wearing them?” Will replies.

He puts it on the list but crosses it out after, Dustin’s never seen Steve wear any rings before, Lucas is probably exaggerating the size..

Lucas looks at the box with a question on his face, “Where did you find that?”

Dustin motions both to sit next down and explains Mike's idea of looking under the bed.

 “I’m pretty sure opening its’ gonna be another jumpscare Dustin,” 

He huffs, of course Will is the voice of reason.

To be on the safe side he shakes the box before opening, it rattles. Multiple small objects. He lifts the lid no longer scared.

A bunch of makeup. Boring. 

There’s a collection of jewellery, mostly silver.

‘Wears silver’

There’s a piece of yellow sticky note poking out from the bottom, he tugs on it and frowns, showing it to the others.

In red ink there’s Steve’s signature chicken scratches, but underneath is response in an odd shade of blue, faded and smudged. Either low quality or almost running out as the ink skips a bit. It’s smaller than Steve’s but comically much sharper in comparison.

The red reads ‘Bluebird ’ with a sad imitation of what he assumes is a bird, while the biro responds ‘Idiot’ with a better looking heart.

“I recognise the pen!” Will exclaims

Dustin snorts while Lucas raises his eyebrows incredulously.

“You recognise the pen from its ink??”

Will nods, “Where my mum works, those are the pen’s that are normally on display to test in the stationary section.” He points to the writing. “I’m normally stuck with those if I forget my pencil case at home.”

Lucas butts in “So what does that mean? Steve’s girlfriend is a pen thief?”

He chews his thumbnail thinking over this new information, “No, this person shops at Meldav’s which means…”

Dustin looks up at the others, Meldav’s isn’t known for its quality. Most people would rather head to the Mall to buy something like stationary. He writes down.

‘Poor?’

They hear running up the stairs, Dustin slams the lid on the container and shoves it under the bed.

Mike opens the door and all three of them visibly deflate.

“My mum’s here to pick us up” He looks at Lucas “ She said she can drop you off as well.”

The two get up leaving Dustin to trail behind. He’s the only one being babysat tonight since his Mom’s out of town for the weekend.

The group gets ready to leave, he swivels his head around realising Max isn't here. 

El looks up from tying her shoelaces, “She wanted to skate home before it gets dark.”

He shrugs looking at the clock above the door, guess it's gonna be himself for the next half hour.

The others wave him off, Dustin decides to make a hot chocolate and laze on the fancy couch while he waits.

Sifting through the kitchen he finds a questionable amount of sweet food. Half finished bags of lollipops, soda, chocolate all seem to be piled into one draw. 

A bit weird since Steve always turns down any offers of candy that Dustin has on hand. Says he’s ‘building his figure’. He writes it down.

‘Sweet tooth’

Afterwards Dustin crashes on the sofa, drink in hand. It’s getting dark outside and once pulling a big cushion over himself, he’s dozing off to the hum of soap operas.

                                 ~

“He’s asleep, don’t worry babe..”

Dustin awakes to the quiet giggling and whispers of Steve and someone else.

It takes a few seconds for him to register but once he does Dustin stiffens in realisation. It's them!  

Peaking over the couch will solve the mystery that’s been bugging him for months.

Slowly edging upwards, a smile pulls his lips. He’s finally caught them.

The secret girlfriend that's been hoarding so much of his best friends' time, Pride and relief swell in his gut.

He lifts his head.

A few things happen at once.

Dustin makes eye contact with a mop of blonde hair, but his eye’s fly open in horror once he realises exactly which blonde it is. 

Billy fucking Hargrove.

Billy yells shoving Steve, who was previously whispering in his ear, away and points at Dustin. 

“I FUCKING told you this was a bad idea!

Steve whips around spotting Dustin and smiles sheepishly.

Dustin just stares, eyes darting between the two. He’s lost for words really.

“So this is the secret girlfriend you’ve been hiding?”

The blonde turns so suddenly Dustin’s surprised he’s not snapped his neck. Billy yanks Steve forward by the collar.

“Secret Girlfriend…?”

Steve fumbles around, arms flailing and out of breath.

“I– I can explain!”

Billy grapples with Steve in what Dustin assumes is a headlock while he slides stealthily back down the couch.

“You going behind my back pretty boy?”

“This is all a misunderstanding I swear!”

Their wrestling dissolves into laughter, seemingly forgetting his presence.

Maybe Dustin will leave this a mystery unsolved.

Hope y'all enjoyed! It’s just turned his birthday where I am so enjoy early!

[aquariusdeanw]

“S1/S2 Mike Wheeler would hate s3/s4 Mike Wheeler!”

Oh, would he?

Mhmmm let’s see the facts shall we!!

Season one Mike Wheeler, the one that lashed out at El everytime something went bad with the Will case??

«What’s wrong with you? What is wrong with you?!»

«You made me think Will was okay, that he was still out there, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t! Maybe you thought you were helping, but you weren’t. You hurt me. Do you understand? What you did sucks. Lucas was right about you. All along.»

Without even giving her the time to explain. He never apologized.

S2 Mike Wheeler? Your saint? Oh so we’re just gonna forget how he treated Max?

«You agreed to invite her? She’s ruining the best night of the year.»

«You don’t want me in your party!» «correct!» «why not?» «because you’re annoying!»

«we need to talk, party members only.» «mike c’mon!» «no, this is not negotiable!»

«I get why El was your mage now.» «what?» «Lucas told me about her» «he shouldn’t have, and just because you know the truth, that doesn’t mean you’re in our party. You know that right?»

And he NEVER apologized.

“Oh but he was just worried about Will 🥺 that’s a natural response to finding out your friend is dead 🥺”

“Oh but he was mourning Eleven 🥺 he felt like everyone was moving on from her 🥺”

SO YOU AGREE? His lashing outs are totally understandable if you put them in the right context? It’s almost like he prioritizes whoever of his loved ones is in danger/hurt.

Now, I know that y’all care about everyone else’s trauma but Mike’s but I think, I THINK, that there is a reason why a model student, classic nerdy kid starts cheating in his tests, misbehaving and vandalizing the school. It’s not like he saw the girl that he loved fucking disintegrate in front of his eyes at the age of twelve. Because it’s totally healthy for a kid to call a presumed dead girl for 353 days and no one comforts him about it.

Now, by some freaking miracle, he gets her back. But she’s not just a normal girl, she’s like Superman, she’s the one that always gets put in danger. So Mike has to live with the constant fear of losing her. It’s almost like y’all keep ignoring the broken record of:

«I can’t lose you again» - season 2!

«Because I love her, and I can’t lose her again!» - season 3 !

«El, I don’t know how to live without you. I can’t lose you.» -season 4!

This kid is traumatized by losing El. So of course he’s concerned about it when Hopper threatens him saying that he could ban him from seeing her. When the freaking government comes in and tells him that he may never see her again. On top of that, I don’t know if you guys actually heard what he was talking about with Will in the car, but his self confidence is in hell. He feels that he is undeserving of El’s love and that’s another reason of worrying over how he may lose her.

Y’all mad. Mad because these last 2 seasons it was Will receiving the short end of the stick because for once in his life Mike prioritizes someone that was not him. He tried to apologize to Will after their fight in s3, he apologized to Will after their argument in s4. That’s more than what he actually did in s1/2 to El/Max. He still asked him if everything was okay in the theater in s3, he still put a hand on his shoulder and reassured him that they’d kill Vecna without a doubt.

“But he didn’t realize Will was crying in the car.” Okay cut him some slack for once, FOR ONCE. The military wants to kill his gf and he was thinking about what Will said to him. And even if he confronted him, then Will would’ve had to lie to him, because I don’t know if you have noticed; Will was not ready to explicitly come out to his brother, you think he would’ve come out to his unrequited crush? He lied about the painting saying it was El who commissioned it for a reason.

Mike loves his friends, he loves his girlfriend. He’s a fourteen year old boy that can’t express his feelings because the last time he interacted with his family was 49292 years go, he has anger issues, abandonment trauma, and y’all act as if he’s Jason or Billy.

People love traumatized characters until they display symptoms of trauma.

[dalekofchaos]

The lack of consequences for Jim Hopper

It really bothers me that Hopper is never called out for his bullshit. And it seriously bothers me that El took his name and that the fandom and the Duffer Bros glorifies the guy when he can come off as abusive as Brenner and Lonnie, but gets away with everything because David Harbour plays him and because the Duffer Bros likes the character and everyone acts like Hopper is a good dad and J**per is relationship goals.

Let’s look at what Hopper has done throughout the series

Selling out El to Brenner and absolutely no consequences. It was never brought up again. Not even when El called out Brenner on his shit. This seriously pissed me off. You could’ve had Brenner playing two face with the Americans and the Russians. The Russians keeps Hopper hostage, while the Americans helps him restore El’s powers and sending Sullivan and his forces to kill The Byers and Mike(also ordering Will’s abduction) and Brenner trying to manipulate El by using the knowledge of what Hopper did to save Will. This could’ve given a neat character arc for El. they could possibly force El to go dark and we’d have Brenner and El as the villains in season 5 or have Hopper and the party to save Jane from Brenner’s manipulation aka Hopper being the angel on El’s shoulder(and actually apologizing for everything) while Brenner is the devil whispering in El’s ear.

The fact that, because he sold her out to Brenner, El was still alive and only he knew, so he decided to take advantage of that and get another daughter out of it.

Keeping El prisoner and constantly promising her that she would be able to see Mike and the others "soon", despite clearly having no desire to follow through on that promise.

Treating El like she's a regular kid by giving her regular punishments (no tv), when she's not a regular kid, and has no other way of passing the time while he, again, keeps her prisoner.

Threatening to send El back to her abusers when she calls him out on the previous two points.

And El still lives with this fuck after everything he’s done and took his last name. Gee, you didn’t think she wanted to take HER MOTHER’S NAME???? Hell, Becky could’ve agreed to look after El and even moved to Hawkins so El could see her friends and so El could see her mother. But nope, we have to force this El and Hopper dynamic and act like he was never an abusive turd towards her.

Getting ridiculously overprotective with El because she starts spending so much time with Mike (and why would that possibly be something they would do? Oh right, keeping them apart for almost a year).

Lying to Mike, a fourteen year old child, about the possibility of his grandmother being seriously injured (something that's happened before), then outright threatening him when he gets called out on it. And that's after writing out a letter that, while very guilt-trippy and "This is all about me!", was still better than what he did. But oh no, since he wrote the letter, that makes it all okay, right? Ugh. Oh and guess what? HE NEVER FUCKING APOLOGIZED TO MIKE and yet Mike still hugged him, but not his literal best friend since Kindergarten

And threatening Mike resulted in unnecessary conflict between Mike, Max and El. Mike refuses to tell anyone what Hopper did and god, season 3 is shit.

Treating Joyce like absolute shit, acting like he's entitled to her.

SO MUCH police brutality, from straight-up torturing someone (no matter how much of a slimeball that someone is, it's still fucked up) taking someone hostage, to gunning down an entire group of people because he was upset that Murray was taking too long (from Hopper's perspective) to talk their way through.

And HOPPER IS NEVER CALLED OUT ON THREATENING MIKE! Mike never tells anyone. Can you imagine the righteous fury coursing through Nancy’s veins if she found out what Hopper did to Mike in Season 3? She’s already pissed off at the sexist pricks at her work, then she finds out? Imagine Joyce, Karen, Nancy, Jonathan, El and Steve ALL find out what Hopper did to Mike and then they give him the "intervention” calling him on his shit or hell, Hopper’s screaming at everyone, everyone’s screaming at him, Hopper puts his hands on Mike,  Ted’s had enough and punches Hopper’s lights out. He should’ve lost the respect of everyone, lost custody of El(El lives with Joyce and has her name changed back to Jane El Ives) and everyone hates him and he sacrifices himself because he has nothing left. 

The worst part? He hasn’t been called out on his shit when it was relevant, he hasn’t been called out when it could’ve been integral with Brenner’s return and he will never be called out. Now everyone wants to act like Hopper was always a good dad to El, he never sold her out to Brenner or threaten to send her back to Hawkins lab or threatened Mike. Everything he did gets swept under the rug and that’s complete and total bullshit. 

At least Jonathan acknowledged taking naked pics of Nancy was wrong. At least Steve realized he was an asshole and had the best damn character arc in the series. Even if he died, at least Billy somewhat apologized to Max, had he lived I think Billy could’ve made amends to everyone and work to be a better person, probably find some closure by confronting Neil for his abuse and finding his mother to find that closure and work to be a better person afterwards and this is coming from someone who hates Billy Hargrove. All I’m saying, everyone acknowledges to some degree what they did was wrong. Hopper never has any sense of guilt for the shit he’s done in the series.

The Duffer Bros and fandom’s glorification of Hopper is very similar to how DONTNOD/Deck Nine hero worship David Madsen in the Life Is Strange games. For those unfamiliar with LIS. David Madsen is Chloe Price’s step-father. He abuses her, puts cameras all over her house and makes her feel like a prisoner in her own home. Then at school, David stalked and harassed Kate Marsh and Rachel Amber and to some degree, Max Caulfield. The only difference? There is one scene where David is called out on his shit. Now why am I comparing this to the glorification to Hopper? Cause in the game developers minds, ONE good deed is enough to whitewash and act like 3 years of being an abusive step-father and stalking girls at school never happened. And speaking of, in LIS 2, they fucking gave him a second chance at life, but Kate Marsh, the girl he stalked didn’t, she died. 

Hopper is borderline abusive towards El, he wants to control her, threatened Mike and feels like he owns Joyce. Hopper is abusive, yet no one wants to call him out on his bullshit.

You might be thinking “he did have consequences, he was in prison in Russia” and “he said he was a curse, see he does feel guilt” that wasn’t consequences and that wasn’t his guilt. He didn’t own up to ANY OF HIS SHIT. He didn’t think selling El and the party to Brenner was bad, he didn’t think treating El like shit was bad, he didn’t think THREATING A FUCKING CHILD WAS BAD and good fucking god, fuck Hopper. 

You know what? Maybe Hopper having no consequences for his actions and not being called on his shit is a commentary on the police being abusive monsters who get away with everything...on second thought, The Duffer Bros aren’t that smart and just refuse to let their favs be called out on their shit. 

[sp0o0kylights]

There were a lot of things Mike hated in life.

The demogorgon, and how it had essentially destroyed his life.

 Brenner, and the madhouse laboratory El had survived. 

How each and every one of his friends now did something weird--were weird, because flashing lights or fireworks or some stupid tune a toy horse played dragged up memories that made their eyes flat and faces hollow. 

Most of all though, Mike hated how much they relied on Steve.

There was no reason he should be the person to call when it started pouring and no one wanted to bike home from AV. 

Steve wasn’t Nancy, or Jonathan, or a parent--he wasn’t even dating anyone related to any of the Party anymore so what excuse did he have to keep hanging around? 

(Even if Jonathan was always working, and Nancy was always busy with some club or homework, and everyone’s parents all seemed to be in a race of who could get back to normal the fastest…) 

They should at least try to get a hold of other people, instead of constantly going to Steve first.

“Why?” Dusitn had scoffed at him the last time this had happened, feeding quarters into a phone and staring at Mike like he was the one being unreasonable. “I’m not gonna waste money just to hear your sister tell us no again when we all know Steve will do it.” 

Which was perhaps the most infuriating part of it all.

That Steve would do it. 

Show up and help them, even if he bitched the whole time. 

Hell, Steve Harrington knew more about Mike’s life offhand than Nancy did, and that made him want to punch a wall more days than it didn’t. Why the hell was Steve so involved? 

It was stupid. 

Weird, even! They weren’t friends, (even if Dustin and Max and El of all people said the opposite) he wasn’t being paid to babysit, (Mike had double checked; going round to ask Ma Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair, only to get an earful of how wonderful Steve was from both.) he had no reason to hang around! 

It didn’t make sense that Steve could be harassed into picking them up from school. 

Would take them to get ice cream, or hand over extra quarters for the arcade. He even gave out advice like some kind of--brother that Mike had never wanted. 

Above all?

Mike hated that when he needed someone, the number he punched in on automatic was Steve’s.

“I need you to come get me.” He said into the receiver, mad at himself and the world, but mostly mad that beyond the normal amount of squawking Steve did, he shut up and came. 

Drove up in his rich boy car, stepping out and herding Mike into it like the rain hadn’t already seeped into his bones. 

“You wanna tell me why you snuck into a bar two towns over?” Steve asked, long after Mike had slung himself into the passenger seat, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

“No.” 

One of Steve’s hands went right to his hair, running through it before adjusting the mess he’d just made. 

It was a nervous habit, and Mike hated that he knew that too. 

“Okay, well.” Steve’s hand fell back to the steering wheel, clenching tight around it. “Next time you want to do something dumb could you at least come talk to me about it beforehand?”

“What the hell would that do?” Mike bitched, staring firmly out of the window. 

“Not waste my gas for starters.” Steve bitched right back. “But I dunno man, we could have taken some bats and gone and wailed on cars in the junkyard and talked or some shit, not--whatever this all was.”

‘This all’ was accompanied by a wave of his hand, indicating not just the bar Mike had been standing in front of, but his general sopping wet state. 

“You’d actually go to the junkyard with me?” Mike challenged, doubtful. 

Steve made a face. “Did you lose your hearing in there? I just said--.” 

“Why?” Mike interrupted. “Why the fuck would you come out with me?”

Matching his entire aggressive tone, Steve said; “Because it’s better than trying to sneak into the one local gay bar when you’re barely fourteen, Michael.” 

And that? 

Steve being oddly aware of shit he really shouldn’t have?

Mike hated that too. 

“You knew what the bar was?” He asked, his voice coming out much smaller than he intended. 

“Everyone knows what that bar is, except it’s more of a biker bar than a gay bar.” Steve shot back--which did actually explain about ten different questions Mike had about the place. “Also, language you little shit.” 

Under his breath, Steve continued in a muttered; “I swear I’m going to start carrying around soap.”

“You cuss more than we do.” Mike responded, and if his own voice was a little strangled as he fought back the sudden swell of tears, then that was between him and God. 

He was not crying in front of Steve Harrington, he outright refused. 

“The point I’m making is that there are way better bars to sneak into. That one’s not nearly as welcoming as people make it out to be, probably because they’re sick of all the rumors.” 

Steve seemed to realize what he was implying because he quickly added; “Not that you should be sneaking into any bars at all!” 

“You’re not my mom.” Mike’s voice turned wet as he lost his battle with his throat, voice cracking as he failed to choke the tears back.  

“No shit Wheeler.”  Steve said, and at least he was good enough not to call attention to Mike’s crying. 

If he had, Mike was pretty sure he’d just up and die of embarrassment, right there. 

“I don’t get why you care.” He muttered, angrily swiping at his eyes. 

“I didn’t keep you alive this long just so you could die of something stupid.” Steve countered easily.

Which was kinda fair, if you thought about it.

Mike very much did not want to think about it. 

Any of it.

Ever. 

“Are you gonna tell my parents?” He asked after a painfully long moment. 

Long enough that Steve had begun fiddling with the radio, trying to find a station as they drove back that wasn’t wailing country or gospel music. 

“I’m not a narc, so no.”  

“Not about the bar.”  

Now Steve just looked confused. 

Probably because he was, because he was without a doubt the stupidest almost adult Mike knew. 

(Not that he could say that out loud--last time he had, Max had made one of her pissy faces and then El got mad because Max was, which led to a break up, which led to Mike having to beg his way back into his girlfriend’s good graces while explaining that he hadn’t meant it like that.

“How did you mean it then?” Max demanded, and Mike wasn’t sure how he managed to dodge that entire conversation but he had, on grounds that untangling his own emotions regarding stupid Steve made him want to pull his hair out and scream.) 

“What about then?” 

 “You know. Don’t make me say it.” Mike absolutely didn’t plead, even if it did sort of, kind of, sound like pleading. 

Steve flicked his eyes away from the road to give one long, weird look at Mike. The same one he gave Dustin when he went off on a rant about Cerebro or Lucas when he started discussing the stats of different D&D weapons. 

Unlike those times, Steve’s face cleared. 

“Oh.” He said, blinking, and Mike could practically see the light bulb flash above his head.

Then; 

“Nah.” 

Mike waited.

And waited.

And kept waiting as Steve went back to searching through radio channels, as if that was the end of the conversation.

It couldn't be the end of this conversation.

Not when this was the part that was eating Mike alive.

He didn’t know if this was Steve repressing it on purpose or if this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life if he kept trying to figure his own head out, but either way, he knew he had a choice to make. 

To let the unspoken part of today die quietly. Go unsaid, and remain unsaid, for all eternity--or he could let it out. 

Shove the “gay” part of “gay bar” in Steve’s stupid, jock face. 

Make him acknowledge it, even if it got Mike kicked out of the car, and who cared if it did? 

Steve wasn’t the person who should have picked him up anyway. 

The anger climbed higher and higher in his chest, tears and rage combining until Mike spat it all out, furious. 

“You’re not going to ask if I’m gay?”  

Steve didn’t turn to face him, but Mike saw his eyebrow cocking anyway, given how he was currently glaring a hole in the side of the older teen’s head. 

“Do you want me to?” 

“No.” Mike bit out automatically. “Yes. I don’t know!” 

Steve’s hand found its way back into his hair. 

“Okay then.” Steve paused, clearly fishing for something to say. 

Gleefully, Mike watched him struggle. 

“Do you like guys?” He managed finally, looking like he was navigating a minefield more than just talking.

“I don’t know.” Mike stressed, sinking lower in his seat. “Why do you think I was at the bar? I was trying to figure it out!” 

“Honestly I assumed this was some sort of stupid dare--but!” Steve held up a finger, before Mike could interrupt, “But let’s--shit, hold on, I had a speech for this but I kinda wasn’t expecting to use it this soon. Um.”

“You have a speech for me being gay?”

“Not for you.” Steve rolled his eyes. “For--in general! It was an in general, just in case speech!” 

He rounded on Mike, for longer than the younger was comfortable with given Steve took his eyes off the road to do it. “Okay--you can like boobies, you can like, uh--not boobies, and that’s fine! It’s all totally fine!” 

“You are not making it sound like it’s fine.” Mike said, feeling like he’d been taken out by hearing Steve say the word “boobies.” 

Gross, gross, gross. 

“Well it is.” Steve said, in a tone that felt like he was two seconds from adding in a smarmy ‘so there!’ at the end. 

“But I’m dating El.” Mike whined, which really, was both the heart of the matter and the eye of the storm that had been growing in his head for months now. “I can’t be gay if I like her.” 

“Don’t you guys break up and get together like four times a week?”

“No, that's Max and Lucas, El and I are stable.” Mike scoffed. “Or we--we were stable.” 

Before he started to have thoughts about people that weren't his girlfriend. 

Or women.

“Stable for being in middle school, sure.” Steve snorted. “You don’t just have to like one or the other you know. You can like dudes and chicks at the same time.”

Which Mike did not know, on account of being fourteen. 

He did his absolute damndest not to show that realization, instead adding that to the list of reasons why he hated Steve Harrington too.

Steve shouldn't be the one teaching him about who you could like!

“The point is that who you end up loving isn’t a problem.” Steve finally looked back to the road. “Other people might be an issue, and those people we can punch in the face so long as the cops aren’t looking, which isn’t part of the speech so let’s not tell people I said that part, but whatever you do choose, there’s nothing wrong with you.” 

Steve’s voice went firm, as he apparently recalled his speech or something close enough to it because his next words sounded a little rehearsed. “You have people who are here for you, no matter what. Okay?” 

Oh God, Mike was crying again. 

He wanted to punch Steve in his stupid face.

Wanted to hold onto the fury he'd built inside himself. Thrash around, throw himself out of the car, get away from the emotions that felt too big for his chest to contain. 

Instead he felt it all break on Steve's acceptance. On word's he didn't know he needed to hear until they'd been spoken, and sniffed out a quiet; “Okay.” 

Steve of course had to take it too far by reaching over and patting his knee, which they both regretted judging by how quickly Steve took his hand back and the face Mike made at his hand--but it…

It was appreciated, even amongst all Mike's rage.

Steve was appreciated. 

Not that Mike would ever, on pain of death, tell him that. 

Neither said a word for a while, Steve finally landing on a radio that was playing some Top 40 hit, Tears for Fears singing about ruling the world while Mike found himself trying to rebuild his own once again, tired of it having shattered so many times over. 

At least he finally felt better, even if he refused to admit Steve was the reason for it. 

He wasn’t quite done though.

 There was a piece Steve had skipped over, that Mike felt was critically important, if only because it was partly the reason he was having thoughts about being gay in the first place. 

He had to know if Steve saw it too. 

That it wasn’t just him and his stupid head, making up things that weren’t there. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Yeah?”

“Who was the speech for?” 

Steve sighed. 

“Rule one of the whole queer thing Wheeler, you don’t out other people.” 

Like there were written rules or something.

(Maybe there were, it wasn't like Mike knew.)

“Was it Will?” Mike asked, and pretended like he didn’t desperately want the answer to be yes. 

 Steve didn’t say a thing, but the fact he nearly took the car off the road was a pretty solid answer in itself. 

“We’re not playing guessing games about other people’s sexualites!” He yelped, hands gripping the steering wheel as Mike felt a wave of relief crash through him. 

Will was--maybe, possibly, also--queer too. 

Which didn’t make this any better but it--wasn’t the not preferred outcome, either. 

(It wasn’t just Mike struggling alone, trying to figure out if his best friend wanted to be more than that, if El was breaking up with him and more and more because she wanted to be less than a girlfriend, if things were changing and he would have no one--) 

“I’m not out here picking Will up from a gay bar dipshit, I’m picking you up, and this is your reminder that next time, you should just come talk to me!” Steve ranted. 

Mike snorted.

He absolutely hated Steve Harrington, but--

“Fine.” He said, talking so low he could barely be heard. “I will.”

--maybe Mike did have someone in his corner after all. 

Even if it was just Steve. 

xXx

Bonus: 

“Between you and me, that kid is gayer than a two dollar bill.” 

“Wow Robin,” Steve teased, “Isn’t that like, a slur or whatever?” 

He snickered when she rolled her eyes and threw a roll of stickers his way. 

“I’m just saying. Did you see the way he was looking at you when you were showing off your stupid biceps?” Robin said, nudging her shoulder into Steve’s. “Will’s gonna have a rude awakening later if he hasn’t already.” 

Steve nudged her back, but kept his gaze on the Party as they trooped their way from Family Video to the arcade next door, the realization that they now had connections for free rentals making them downright gleeful. 

Will was the last one in, and Steve watched him hurry so as to not be left behind. 

He didn’t like to worry about the dipshits, but Robin was just putting voice to a thought Steve knew he wasn’t the first person to have.

And if he noticed it, then it didn't exactly bode well as being kept a secret. 

“Should we like…talk to him about that?” He asked after a long moment, turning to face Robin.

“Us?” She pointed at herself, before turning her finger on Steve. “Why us?” 

“Well you’re into girls.” He gave her a pointed look, glad that the store was empty of everyone but them so he could actually voice all this. “And I’m fine with it.”

“Yeah I’m sure he wants to know you’re fine with it.” Robin taunted, but she had her thinking face on, eyes out to the middle distance. “I barely know him. You barely know him--he’s the quietest out of all your kids.”

“They’re not my kids.” Steve argued automatically. “They're like a weird cross between shitty siblings and that kid in your class who never leaves you alone.” 

A fact Steve no longer took for granted, even if he made it sound like the worst thing ever.

“I just think it’d be nice if he knew that he had people in his corner, you know? Who supported him and shit.” 

“Steve, you compared my crush to a muppet, that wasn’t supportive.” Robin countered, but it too was on automatic. 

Softer she admitted; “You’re right though. If I had known other queer people, if I had known people would accept me...it would have made things a lot easier.”

A very long pause, in which both of them stewed for a moment, before Robin abruptly slapped her hand down on the table.

“Okay, you got me. We're doing it, and I'm making us a speech.”

“A speech?” 

“Yes dingus, a speech. I know you, you’re terrible when you’re put on the spot with this kinda thing, and trust me with things like this the moment will be spontaneous.”

“It’s Will, how spontaneous can it be?” Steve challenged back. “Getting a dinner order out of him is a chore.” 

“Stop whining and hand me that notepad. Im telling you its gonna happen when you least expect it and then you're gonna thank me later.”

“It better not happen without you.”  Steve sighed, but passed the notepad over.

God the things he did for those stupid kids. 

Bonus x2

Steve would later go on to use the speech on himself, in a gas station bathroom mirror, eyes wide and freaked out after Eddie Munson called him Big Boy in a van they stole, while Robin snickered behind him. 

He would turn on her, snapping that she; “Help me with this dammit!” 

In return she’d remind him that Tammy might sing like a muppet but Eddie  was the guy who stepped on lunches while giving speeches at lunch and sticking his tongue out, and “Really Steve, I think I won best gay awakening, here.” 

Which would promptly start an argument regarding how it wasn’t a competition, which would continue for another fifteen or so odd years before finding its way as a reference into both of their speeches as each other’s best man. 

Nancy and Eddie wouldn’t get it at either wedding, but Mike would.

[bluerosejuliet]

Oh my gosh Lady Danbury being the one to send them back! She would to. Since you mentioned Siena and Marina being the leads of the original stories, I was wondering if this takes place in tv or book universe?

Oh cool my second ask in 24 hours! Keep em coming guys! It helps give me inspiration :)

Hmm...it's a bit of both to be honest. For example, Eloise meets Theo during Anthony's book but never finds out Penelope is Whistledown because they aren't close friends in the books. Since Penelope is Daphne's age, she met and befriended Colin first. Book Eloise never really took the time to get to know her since Colin was always hogging her. Plus anyone who liked her brother must have something wrong with their brain.

Truthfully, Isekai!Eloise didn't have many friends aside from the IsekaiBridgertons in her modern life. Growing up in the orphanage meant some kids would pick on them at school and as a result, she grew a tough skin and a sharp tongue. By the time she was older, most people were to afraid to get close to her and though she insisted she was fine, it still stung a bit. It's probably why she gave in and started reading the Bridgerton series, because her character had a family that loved and supported her.

It did frustrate her though how her character often took her family for granted and was rude to them at time like how she ridicules her sister Daphne for wanting nothing more than to be a baby making factory or how she talks to her mother even. Isekai!Eloise is all for feminism but also knows part of that is supporting other women in the choices that make them happy. Her character also never bothers to get to know Penelope and often just calls her "Colin's little friend" rather than her name. "Eloise never held much regard for Penelope Featherington though she held little regard for anyone. In her mind any person dumb enough to be friends with Colin of all people was not worth her time." Penelope honestly seems like the type of friend she would want in real life and to have her back.

I do imagine that when fourteen year old Isekai!Eloise gets her memories of her first life she vows to treat her mother better and decides to get to know Penelope a bit more. But she is going to be firm in being allowed to make her own match. Surprisingly once she starts getting to know Penelope more, she finds that she actually really likes her. They both love the same books and talking about women's issues (though Eloise does remind herself to actually listen to her friends thoughts as she sometimes tends to get wrapped up in herself at time). Plus Penelope has the uncanny ability to distract her mother when Eloise finds herself getting frustrated with her matchmaking antics. How on earth her character didn't befriend her before is utterly lost on her. And if it also aggravates her brother Colin, even better!

"She's supposed to my best friend, El not yours!"

"That was poor writing on the authors part. I'm fixing it now. Penelope needs someone with more than half a brain to talk to. And you are not compromising MY platonic soulmate!"

"I just wanted to hug her!! You two do it all the time now!"

"That's as good as getting caught screwing around in this era! I can hug her because we're both women. And yes Colin, she is as soft as she looks and smells even better."

"Oh you're evil."

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of Med: Season 1: Glad I Didn’t Make it that Far (A Halstead brothers + Halstead sister! imagine)

Trigger warning: Talk of eating disorders

As always, I do not own any quotes from Chicago Med 1x04 that show up here!

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"We should go to a movie," your best friend Emma suggested when you were sitting on the playground of Central Chicago's elementary school one summer day.

You had been coming here since it was pretty close to your house to be able to read without worrying that your dad would show up drunk. He wasn't violent, he was just rude, asking why there was no food and when you explained it was because he wasn't going shopping, he'd scoff and tell you to get a job if you wanted to eat. It wasn't your fault; you'd tried to get a job, but no one would hire you because you were only fourteen. Most places required that you be at least sixteen and the occasional place would let you start at fifteen, but only with very limited hours. And, the places that let you start at fifteen were too far away for you to walk to. You'd have to take the El...and that would turn out badly if Will and Jay found out, even though your dad wouldn't care in the slightest.

"Em, I don't have any money. I'm literally rationing out my feminine products at this point."

"Hey, just tell me if you need any. Me or my mom can get you some. Oh, and some neighbors of mine run a little kettle corn company. They're looking for some extra help on the weekends and they'll pay you under the table. I can give you their number if you want."

"Really?" Emma smiled and nodded. "Yes, please! And, you're the best."

But, what you didn't tell her was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday since there was barely anything in your house and that your cramps were killing you and because of all this, you were feeling nauseous.

"Let's go to the movies. My treat."

"I can't let you pay for me."

"Yes, you can. Best friends help each other out. Now c'mon, let's go." You sighed and closed your eyes as you stood up. "You good?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just dizzy."

"You wanna go home?"

"No, no I'm fine. Just seasonal allergies from all the pollen," you lied.

"Okay, let's go."

You started to slow down as you got closer to the movie theater. "I'm so excited to see The Longest Ride!" Emma squealed. "Scott Eastwood is just mwah!"

"Yeah, but he's- he's a lot-- I gotta, I gotta sit down," you stuttered, starting to feel more lightheaded and seeing your vision become blurry at the edges.

"Okay, let's get to the front where you can sit on the curb."

You slowly started to make your way there, but it was too late. "Em- Emma," you slurred as you tried to reach for her as your legs gave out underneath you, and then everything went black.

"Y/N!" Emma yelled as she squatted down next to you and pulled out her phone.

Just then, everyone started running out of the theater shouting something about a shooting.

***

Will's pager went off as he was eating with Natalie and the rest of the team from a taco truck outside of Chicago Med. And, everyone else's pagers were going off, too, making it sound like alarm clocks that were all set for the same time. Then, Maggie ran outside.

"Shooting in a movie theater! Mass casualties! It's about to get crazy!" she yelled to the doctors and other nurses. "EMTs are four minutes out!"

Not even a second after she finished her sentence, an ambulance pulled up with lights flashing and sirens blaring.

"Check that!" Will yelled as he threw his food in the trash can. "They're here!"

Then, all of them sprinted into the hospital, their main focus now being saving as many lives as possible.

"Another maniac gone crazy in a theater," Will said as he put something over his scrubs to keep them from getting blood all over them. "Is this the world we live in?"

***

You slowly opened your eyes to be met with the white ceiling and an IV in your arm. You groaned. "Where am I?" you asked as you rolled over to see Emma sitting on a bench. "Are we in an ambulance?"

"You don't remember?" Emma asked.

"You passed out, sweetie," a female paramedic told you as she put a blood pressure cuff around your arm. "Luckily for you, we came pretty quick after hearing about the shooting."

"The shooting? There was a shooting?"

"In the movie theater," the paramedic answered you. "You were lucky you didn't go in."

"Guess so."

Your eyes widened as you realized they were probably taking you to Chicago Med. You couldn't let your brother know that the most likely reason for you passing out was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday. They'd freak out.

"Am I good to go when we get to the hospital? I feel fine." You were still nauseous, but that was better than being passed out.

"You passed out, we need to get you checked out at the hospital."

"But I feel fine," you protested.

"I understand that, sweetie. But you need to get checked out anyway to make sure that there wasn't something that made you pass out other than the heat."

"She's right, Y/N," Emma said. "You need to get checked out."

You huffed. "Fine." Maybe Will would be too busy to even notice you were there. And, you figured your dad wouldn't pick up his phone, so you could just sneak out undetected when the doctors and nurses weren't watching.

When you got in, you were met by Natalie. "Y/N?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nothing. I just passed out. I'm fine, really."

"Shoot," Emma said. "My mom's here to pick me up. Said she doesn't want me here because of all the press since I'm not hurt. I'm sorry."

You waved your hand. "It's fine. Hopefully, I'll be getting out here soon, too. See you later."

"Bye, Y/N."

"If you passed out, you're not fine, Y/N," Natalie said.

As you were wheeled past a trauma room, you saw your brother. Luckily for you, he was too focused on his patient that he didn't notice.

"Want me to get Will?" Natalie asked when she saw you glance in there.

"No! I mean, he looks really busy and I'm not dying. They should be the first priority."

"Okay, well I'll have Maggie call your dad because after all the standard tests, if I need to do more, I'm going to need your dad's permission since you're still a minor."

"Okay."

"Hey, Maggie," Natalie called, "Do me a favor and call Y/N's dad for me. I just might need permission to run some additional tests."

"You got it."

You got on the bed in the treatment room and allowed Natalie to listen to your heart and lungs. "Were you part of the crush?" she asked. "Did you get the wind knocked out of you? Is that why you passed out?"

"No, I got dizzy before we could get inside. I felt nauseous, too, but I think that was just from period cramps."

"The paramedics said you were dehydrated and that they had to administer an IV. Have you been eating and drinking properly? I know it's hot and that can cause you to pass out. Other than that factor, have you been eating and drinking normally?"

"Yes," you lied.

"Okay, I'm just going to need to get your height and weight and other vitals before we continue."

You nodded and followed her to where she took your height and weight. She wrote it down and you started to walk out, but she stopped you. "Uh, Y/N, come with me."

You followed her to the doctor's lounge where she handed you her sweatshirt. "Why are you giving me this?"

"You bled through your shorts. There's free pads and tampons in the bathroom if you don't have any on you."

You nodded. "Thank you."

"Meet me back here once you're finished."

"Okay."

When you got into the bathroom, you took all the pads and tampons you could fit in your shorts pockets after you had finished changing your dirty one.

Now, it was time for your great escape. No one would see you; they were all too busy treating other patients and worrying about the press.

You were almost out into the waiting room, but then a voice stopped you.

"Y/N?"

Shit. Jay.

You stopped in your tracks but then continued walking.

"Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around, hoping you wouldn't have to spill all the secrets about what's been happening at home.

***

"Poor guy," Erin said as she and Jay exited Sharon Goodwin's office. "He thought what he was going was right."

"I probably would've done the same thing if I were in his shoes," Jay agreed. "I mean, if I thought I saw a guy with an AR-15 in a movie theater and then thought the shots from the movie were coming from the gun, I sure as hell would've acted. Not that my service weapon can shoot bullets off as much as my sniper, but I'd try. Try and save civilians."

"Jay." Erin placed a hand on his arm. "You're not in Afghanistan anymore."

"I know. There's just some sick and twisted people in this world. Why would someone go into a theater with a leaf blower anyway? With all the mass shootings that have happened, that's probably the stupidest idea I've heard."

"I agree with you. But he's just a kid. He didn't ask to get shot. But, if I were in that teacher's shoes, I'd probably do the same thing and draw my gun."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows as he saw someone walking towards the exit of the ED and towards the waiting room. She had shorts and a t-shirt on with a burgundy sweatshirt tied around her waist. Jay wouldn't have given it a second thought, but he knew you had the same gray beat-up Converse because he had gotten them for you for a birthday present two years ago and you always wore the same polka dot scrunchie when you needed your hair to be in a bun and needed it to be tight.

"Is that?..." Erin trailed off.

"I think so," Jay answered, quickening his pace to catch up with you before you got out of the ED and he lost sight of you due to the number of people in the waiting room. "Y/N!" he yelled.

The girl he thought was you froze for a split second and then continued walking, this time at a faster pace. That was all the confirmation he needed. "Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around.

"I was going to tell you," you mumbled once you were in front of him.

He scoffed and crossed his arms across his chest. "Yeah? And when were you planning on calling Dad? You know you're a minor so a parent needs to be notified."

"Y/N!" Natalie yelled. "I thought you left, I was so close to getting security to look for you. We couldn't get a hold of your dad and were going to call Jay since he's your secondary emergency contact, but he's here now, so if both of you could follow me then that'd be great."

"You got it from here, Erin?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, text me if you need me to pick you up and bring you back to the district."

"Will do. Don't let Voight bust my balls because I skipped out."

"I'll tell him Y/N had a medical emergency. He'll understand."

"Thanks."

You, Natalie, and Jay walked back into the treatment room where Natalie had been previously treating you.

"First of all, let me just say it was not a medical emergency," you told your brother.

"Oh yeah? Then why are you here?" he asked.

"I was feeling nauseous."

"And you came to the ED just because of some nausea?" He raised an eyebrow. He so knew you were lying.

Meanwhile, Will was walking out of a trauma room after Rhodes brought a victim up to surgery.

"Hey. You hear?" Reese asked as she walked up to the doctor. "The kid at the theater, the one who got shot, he didn't have a gun, he had a leaf blower."

"What?" Will asked, stunned. He had worked on that kid and knew that it wasn't good.

"Yeah, turns out it was some kind of prank." She was about to turn around to leave, but then stopped. "Oh, and your sister's here. Treatment one."

"What? Why?"

"I think she passed out or something. Dr. Manning's in there with her right now."

"Thanks, Reese."

Will barged into your treatment room. "So, she comes into the ED and nobody has the common decency to even notify me?" he asked rhetorically.

"You were busy treating other patients, Will. I was going to get around to it eventually," Natalie said.

"Natalie, please just finish explaining what happened. Or just start from the beginning because Will's here now," Jay suggested, not wanting to have to break up an argument between the two doctors.

Now it was Will who was the one who crossed his arms over his chest.

"So, Will, what happened was that Y/N passed out. She was almost inside the movie theater, but she passed out, so she didn't go in."

"The movie theater where the shooting happened?" Jay asked. You nodded. "Jesus, kid, if you would've gotten inside, you would've given both me and Will heart attacks."

"Sorry. But, I'm glad I didn't get that far."

"Yeah, us too," Will agreed. "So, why'd she pass out?"

"Can I talk to you two for a minute? Outside?"

They nodded. "Be right back," Jay told you.

"So, what's going on?" Jay asked once the three were safely outside of the room and out of earshot from you.

"Have you noticed anything strange with her eating habits lately? Any skipping meals? Going to the bathroom right after meals? Not wanting to eat?" Natalie asked the two brothers.

"No, nothing," Jay answered. "Granted, we don't eat with her a lot because she lives with our dad and we both live on our own."

"Okay, because since her physical check-up a month and a half ago, Y/N's lost fifteen pounds."

"Fifteen?" Will asked, flabbergasted.

"I thought she looked smaller, but I just thought I was hallucinating from lack of sleep because of all the crazy cases we've had," Jay said.

"No, she's lost fifteen pounds since her last check-up," Dr. Manning reiterated.

"So, what are you saying?" Will asked. "Our sister's anorexic? Bulimic?"

"I'm not saying any of those yet. But, I talked to Dr. Charles while Y/N was in the bathroom and she said to try and have her eat something, like the greasiest thing you can find in the cafeteria, and see what she does. We'll even leave the room after to chat and I'll have Maggie keep an eye on the bathrooms to see if she goes in there. If she refuses to eat or freaks out over it, then we might be dealing with anorexia. If she goes into the bathroom after, we might be dealing with bulimia. Or, it could be a combination of the two or just possibly her trying to lose weight. Has she ever mentioned wanting to lose weight to either of you?"

"No, not all," Jay answered. "Even when we went out after her last day of school, which I think was about two weeks after she had that physical, she ate a ton and she didn't go to the bathroom right after."

"But you did go home right after," Will pointed out.

"Yeah."

"But, with some bulimics, if they know that the food has already been digested, they won't try to purge. And, it sounds like the food had time to digest."

"Alright, I'll go grab her a bacon cheeseburger."

"And a side of mac n cheese," Jay suggested. "She loves that stuff." Will started to walk out, but Jay stopped him once more. "Can you pick me up a bacon cheeseburger, too? I'm hungry."

Will rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but just so you know, you're paying me back."

"I know," Jay said and then went back inside the treatment room.

"Where's Will?" you asked.

"He's getting you some food. How does a bacon cheeseburger and mac n cheese sound?"

God, your mouth watered just at the thought of the bacon cheeseburger alone. The juicy patty, melty cheese, and crispy bacon, yum. And, you hadn't had a burger in who knows how long.

"That sounds amazing honestly," you answered.

"Okay, good because that's what Will's getting you." He paused. "Is everything okay with Dad? Everything good at home?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," you lied.

"Did someone tell you that you were fat at all?"

Shit, he knew I'd lost weight. "No," you answered. "I guess I'm not just mindlessly snacking when I'm doing homework anymore. It's not like I'm trying to lose weight."

No way were you going to tell him that there was rarely any food in the house, not here anyway.

"Okay, good," Jay answered. Then, he looked out of the room to see Will talking with Natalie. But, they were close enough that you could hear them, so you turned your attention to the two as well.

"Hey, Nat," Will said, carrying a bag with three cheeseburgers and a side of mac n cheese.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I'm thinking, I only live a mile from you. So, when you go into labor, call me. I'll drive you here."

"Thanks, but...you know it could be three in the morning, right?"

"Sleep's overrated anyway."

Then, Will made his way back into your treatment room. "I wanna take you to the hospital," Jay mocked. "Very smooth, Will, very smooth."

"Will's got a crush, Will's got a crush," you said in a sing-song voice.

"Would you two knuckleheads keep it down? And no, I do not have a crush, I was just trying to be helpful."

Jay scoffed. "Yeah right. You totally have a crush on her, man. Now, give us the food and we won't say anything."

***

"Everything seem normal?" Natalie asked Will as Jay was still sitting with you after the three of you had finished your food.

"Yeah, she ate a little faster than normal, but we waited an hour and she didn't even get up to go to the bathroom, so I don't think that's the issue. She told Jay she wasn't trying to lose weight. She said she just wasn't mindlessly eating anymore when she was doing homework. But, I don't think that could make her lose fifteen pounds. Do you?"

"No. But unfortunately, given her height and age, she still has a normal BMI, so we can't do anything."

"Yeah, I get it. Me and Jay will keep an eye on her. It was around this time when our dad just kind of checked out on parenting us."

"What do you mean?"

"He wouldn't cook or really help us with anything. But, it was okay because our Mom was still around, so she'd cook and help us with things. He just thought we were old enough to deal with stuff on our own."

"Things that a teenager without another parent still needs help with."

"Exactly."

Jay poked his head out of the room. "Everything good? Y/N's asking when she can leave."

Will rolled his eyes. "Wonder where she gets that from."

"Shut up."

"I'll grab you the discharge papers," Natalie said and then walked to a nurse's station.

Just then, Will's pager went off. "I gotta go." He fished into the pocket of his scrubs. "You can take my car home and then just come pick me up from work and we can drive back to the district to get your truck. That way you don't have to bug Erin."

"Thanks, man. Go save some lives."

Natalie came back and handed him the discharge papers.

"Thanks, Nat. Me and Will will be sure to keep an eye on her, maybe have her over for dinner once or twice a week to monitor her eating habits."

"That's a good idea. Good luck with all this. Will told me that this was around the time that your dad clocked out on you, so maybe pay him a visit when Y/N's not there and check? I don't know if that's something you'd want to do or not."

Jay nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"No problem."

Jay signed the discharge papers and then walked back into the room. "Good news."

"We can leave?" you asked excitedly as you sat up.

"We can leave," he confirmed.

***

You got out of the car and stood on the stoop of your house, Jay right next to you. "Jay," you started, "I have to tell you something."

"Okay, what is it? You can tell me anything."

You opened your mouth to tell him that there was barely any food in the house and that your dad refused to buy you feminine hygiene products because, by his logic, if he had another son, he wouldn't need to buy them, so you should buy them yourself.

But then, the door opened, revealing your dad.

"I was just going to say thanks for staying with me at the hospital. I would've left if you didn't stop me."

"You're welcome."

"Care to tell me where you've been?" your dad asked.

You knew he was just putting on a show because Jay was there.

"I was at the park and then me and Emma were going to see a movie and then--" your phone buzzed, alerting you that you had a text message.

"I've got it from here, Y/N. Dad, can I come inside?"

Pat Halstead nodded and you walked inside followed by your brother. "I'm gonna go upstairs and change," you said.

As you walked past the kitchen, you noticed a bunch of grocery bags, all of them full. He must've gone grocery shopping. At least you didn't have to worry about food for the next few days. But, you didn't know if he just did that because he finally listened to his voice mails and heard that you were in the hospital and were worried that they were going to find out that he was an unfit parent or because he finally came to his senses and realized that he was still responsible for you because you were a minor, which meant he needed to have food in the house.

As you walked upstairs, you checked your phone. It was Emma's neighbor asking if you could start helping her with kettle corn this Saturday. You responded with a yes because now, if your dad went back to not buying groceries, at least you'd be able to buy some for yourself.

A/N: Sorry this one was so short! It's kind of just to foreshadow the next installment of this. And, in the next installment, I will probably combine Seasons of PD: Season 4 and Seasons of Med: Season 2 because the storylines kind of go together. Anyway, thank you for reading! Please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to the taglist, just tell me and I’ll be happy to add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e 

[featherymalignancy]

How About a Hug, Hm? REMIX

So a few days ago I got this ask about my Elriel one-shot “How About A Hug?” because I messed up the formatting and I you basically have to to read it as a reblog. I also was really unsatisfied with the end result.

So, I did the most Feathery™️ thing every and REWROTE THE WHOLE GODDAMN THING.

Please enjoy, and know that I will go back and tag people/clean up formatting tomorrow. Right now I just need to post and 😴

——————————————————

Elain Archeron was running late.

Granted, it was only by seven minutes, which—in many social circles—was still considered well within the accepted boundaries of punctuality.

The problem was that a) being late made Elain anxious, and b) there was absolutely nothing polite about Nesta Archeron when she was made to wait, even by her own kin.

Yet another reason it had been critical that Elain arrive on time: Nesta was already likely to be somewhat hacked off when she saw what Elain was wearing tonight, and Elain had hoped to avoid any further dramatics on her elder sister’s part.

She spent half the cab ride downtown trying to convince herself that it was fine that she’d borrowed something out of Nesta’s closet (even if it had been without permission) and that she hadn’t had a choice; she simply didn’t own anything appropriate for dinner at a four-star restaurant. However, by the time the cab slithered under Trump Tower’s unsavory shadow and into Hell’s Kitchen, she’d given up pretending.

The truth was she had half a dozen cocktail dresses that would have been perfectly suitable for dinner in the West Village, even if the place they were going was one of the nicest sushi restaurants in the city. No, Elain had raided Nesta’s closet for a far more embarrassing reason: she’d been in search of a dress she hoped might finally win her Azriel’s attention.

She wasn’t proud of the absurd crush she had on the guy, but it really couldn’t be helped. He was gorgeous, and smart, and darkly funny when he wanted to be, and she’d been secretly mooning over him since they’d met through Feyre’s fiancée three years ago. God, what she wouldn’t give to have him return even a fraction of her feelings.

Apparently not her dignity, Elain thought with a glance down at her neckline.

The worst part was that Azriel seemed oblivious to her interest in him. He was always polite to her, always made a point to talk to her when he caught her hiding out on the balcony during one of Feyre and Rhys’s crazy parties or sit next to her at their big family dinners, but he’d never once given her any indication that he was in any way that he reciprocated her feelings, which should have been reason enough for Elain to pack it in and stop harassing him.

And that was to say nothing of Mor.

Mor was the friend who’d first introduced Feyre and Rhys, and from what Elain could gather, she and Azriel had a long and complicated history. It didn’t seem to matter that Mor had been dating the same girl for over a year now. When she was in the room, Az’s eyes were always on her. Not that Elain blamed him—Mor was gorgeous in a way girls like her could only dream of being. Still, there was no denying the sting of watching the guy you were interested in pine over someone else.

Given all this, Elain wasn’t really sure why she’d gone to such lengths to dress up for this dinner. Mor would surely be there wearing something incredible and couture, thereby rendering everyone else invisible to Azriel. Still, Elain was a hopeless optimist, and she’d stubbornly sold herself on the idea that if she found the perfect dress, she could finally convince Azriel that she was a woman worthy of affection, rather than Nesta’s bookish, boring little sister.

She had to admit, there was nothing bookish about her tonight. The dress was tighter on her that it was her waifish sister, and dear god it deserved a Medal of Honor for the way it managed to keep her boobs looking so perky even without a bra. She didn’t suppose Nesta would be too happy about that bit, either, so she could only hope her sister was in a good mood by the time Elain arrived.

Just then Elain’s phone buzzed, and she looked down at it and groaned. It was from Nesta.

Where the 🤬 are you?

Running late, Elain quickly typed back. Is everyone waiting?

She watched the gray ellipsis pulse at Nesta responded.

Feyre and Rhys aren’t even fucking here yet. But hurry up, Cash is already driving me insane.

Elain rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure who Nesta thought she was fooling when she and Elain shared a bedroom wall. Nesta and Cassian, Rhys’s other best friend, ended up banging almost every time they saw each other, which—since Rhys and Feyre had gotten engaged four months ago—was fairly frequently. In fact, Cash was at their apartment making Nesta scream so often that Elain had been forced to invest in earplugs and a sound machine. From Elain’s perspective, it seemed rather pointless of Nesta to pretend she wasn’t completely hot of a guy she called “Daddy” in bed.

Elain shuddered at the thought, hoping that Nesta would end up going to Cash and Az’s loft in Williamsburg tonight instead. Though, she realized glumly, they only ever seemed to go there when Azriel was out, and the only person who seemed able to keep Azriel out later than Cash was Mor. That meant Elain’s options were either to pop an Ambien and hope for the best, or stay out and watch Az make moon eyes at Mor all night. Neither one was particularly appearing.

Elain ignored Nesta’s text as the car pulled up outside the restaurant and she wiggled out, smoothing the back of her tight dress before giving her curls what she hoped was an artful tousle before slipping inside.

Elain’s heart felt into her stomach as she took in the elegant but understated interior of the famed Sushi Nakazawa. Given the prices, she’d assumed the place would be all black granite and swanky chandeliers—the kind of place cleavage like hers wouldn’t seem out of place. Instead the place was elegantly spare and distressingly well-lit. God, she was such a prize idiot.

Unfortunately, she was also out of time, because a quick survey of the interior found that her group was already gathered at the bar, Mor, Feyre, and Rhys having showed up in the interim between Nesta’s text and Elain’s arrival.

Elain’s eyes went to Mor first, who stunned in a cardinal red lace and net sheath. It clung to her frame like it had been made for her, and despite a latent jealous she couldn’t quite contain, she was relieved to find that she at least wouldn’t look overdressed.

Elain’s stomach only wended in a tighter knot when Mor’s eyes fell on her and lit up, a reminder that not only was Mor prettier, she was also an infinitely better person than Elain.

“There she is!” Mor beamed, coming forward and hugging Elain. “I love that dress, Ellie!”

Elain braced herself for Nesta’s inevitably remark, but it was actually Cash who reacted first.

He’d opened his mouth to comment seemingly before he’d actually looked at Elain, because the second he realized what exactly she was wearing, his eyes they snapped the ceiling, as if looking at her chest directly might turn him to stone.

“Whoa, El, all dressed up tonight!”

Nesta, wholly unmoved by his attempted chivalry, elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don’t be vulgar Cassian!” She snarled before narrowing her eyes. “And that’s mine!”

Cash smirked, seeming more at ease now that Nesta was his target.

“I knew I’d seen that bef—ow! Goddamnit woman, what was that for?”

He scowled down at the dangerous stiletto Nesta had just jammed into his toe box.

“Sorry,” she cast over her shoulder, not deigning to look at him. “Did I accidentally step on your foot?”

“I’m an adult,” Elain interjected, cheeks burning as she faced her sister down. “Stop acting like I’ve fourteen and stuffing my bra.”

“They’re just boobs, Nes,” Rhys added, arm slung over Feyre’s shoulder. “Relax.”

“Watch it,” Nesta warned him, but Feyre only laughed.

“I agree!” She said, turning to smile at Elain. “And I think they look amazing.”

“If I’d have known they were going to be such a topic of conversation,” Elain mumbled, grateful Azriel wasn’t here to witness this circus. “I would have worn something else.”

“No, I’m with Feyre,” Mor said, wicked grin forming. “Breasts that nice deserve to be shown off.”

Elain wasn’t so humble that she didn’t feel herself preening a bit at that comment, even if she was still flustered by the prolonged attention. Either way, she was grateful when Cash interrupted with a somewhat sheepish laugh.

“Teenage me would be furious if he heard me say this, but can we please stop talking about boobs?”

“Elain’s boobs or just any boobs?” Feyre said with a smirk.

However, before Elain could admonish her for it, Feyre was crushing her into a hug.

“Hey you,” she said, wrapping her arms and Elain’s neck and whispering in her ear, “let me and Rhys know if you wanna stay at our place tonight; Cash already grabbed Nesta’s ass twice when she thought we weren’t looking.”

Feyre indicated the mirror behind the bar with her eyes as they pulled away, and sure enough, Elain watched Cash’s hand as it drew lazy, dangerous circles just above the swell of Nesta’s well-formed behind.

Elain groaned, hugging Rhys now as well. God , her sister was such a hypocrite sometimes.

Ignoring a lingering twinge of annoyance, Elain forced herself to glance in false realization before casually asking, “So where’s the Birthday Boy?”

“He was on his phone out back,” Rhys said, before raising a hand in greeting to someone over Elain’s shoulder. “There he is.”

Elain tried not to look to eager as she turned and drank in all six feet four inches of perfection that was Azriel Macar. He was dressed all in black, from his prada boots to the soft, expensive t-shirt fitted enough to show off his toned physique. Elain honestly had to fight not to swoon as he ran an effortless hand through his glossy sable hair, the longer pomaded pieces on top stand up for a second before falling into an artful tousle.

“Hey Ellie,” he said, gaze on her and gone so quickly that he never even had time to notice her much-discussed cleavage. Instead, his eyes flicked to Mor and held for a long, meaningful beat before he turned back to Elain and added politely, “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure,” she chirped, trying to ignore the fact that he was coming closer, and that in another second she’d be able to smell that divine Givenchy cologne he always wore. “Of course!“

She bent her head, pretending to be fixing the clasp on her bracelet as his scent hit her and she had to bite back a groan. Sweet Jesus, he smelled good. When she looked up again, everyone else was shuffling to their table and Azriel was lingering, a soft smile threatening to the reveal the absolutely devastating dimples in both his cheeks.

“Do I get a hug?” He asked. “It is my birthday after all.”

He extended his arms, and she gave a nervous laugh, accepting the gesture by stringing her arms around his neck.

“Of course,” she repeated stupidly, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he embraced her. “Happy Birthday.”

At this he squeezed her a little tighter and she fought off genuine giddiness.

It was a friendly gesture, she warned herself, and it ended the minute Mor called, “Az, come sit by me.”

Elain cleared her throat as he pulled away, turning to where Mor was still beckoning. However, before Elain could get too flustered, he turned back to her.

“Shall we?” he said, indicating Elain go ahead of him. To her delight, they reached the table to find that the only two seats left were next to each other. She tried not to give her eagerness too much leash as he pulled out her chair for her before sinking into the one between she and Mor. Mor leaned over to give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he flushed.

“Where’s Emmy tonight?” Feyre asked as Mor tried to wipe the lipstick from Az’s copper skin and he battered her away, like child trying to fend off an over-bearing mother.

“She’s sick, poor little thing,” Mor said, giving a tiny pout. “She hasn’t been able to get out of bed in days.”

Elain didn’t bother to her disappointment. Emerie had been one of Nesta’s best since they’d met in college almost ten years ago, and she not only was she like family to the Archerons, she also happened to be the only person in the group who knew about Elain’s crush. Elain had sworn her to secrecy at the time, and though it would have been reasonable to assume that once Emmy knew, Mor would know, Elain appreciated that she could trust Emerie to keep her secret.

Elain felt Emerie’s absence keenly and Nesta and Cash began bantering back and forth at lightning speed. Emerie was a master at slowing the tempo of Nesta’s quick wit, making it easier for Elain in particular to feel she could keep up.

More selfishly, Elain also missed Emerie’s ability to keep Mor distracted. When Emmy was around, she was all Mor could focus on. However, in her absence Mor’s attention had reverted almost completely to Az, a fact he didn’t seemed to mind a single bit, if his growing smiles were any indication.

Still, he seemed to be going out of his way to make sure Elain didn’t get lost in the chaos of conversation surging around them, even if he never looked at her for more than a moment or two before his eyes flicked back to Mor, studying her dark brown eyes and crimson lips.

After they placed their drink orders and the waiter came over to begin explaining the omakase menu, Elain wondered if she had time to dodge under the table to throw on some lipstick of her own. Assuring herself everyone was suitably distracted she bent down, hastily uncapping the tube before looking up just in time to see Nesta brush a very deliberate hand between Cassian’s splayed quads.

Elain jerked back, banging her head on the table.

“Fuck!” she swore quietly, straightening and rubbing her head.

Nesta shot her an alarmed look across the table and Elain flushed.

“All you alright?” Azriel asked, and she tried not to bleat in excited panic as his fingers brushed the back of her head. “What happened?”

“I—dropped something,” she fumbled, cursing her sister for being such a salacious wench.

Wasn’t it enough that she and Cash were already going to keep her up all night? Did she really have to make Elain look silly in front of Azriel, too?

“Does it hurt?” Azriel said, still studying her head before letting his eyes go to the server. “Do you need ice?”

“No, no,” Elain said hurriedly, trying to regain her composure. “I’m fine.”

“Did you at least find whatever you were looking for?” Mor asked, and Elain’s flush deepened.

“And then some,” she grumbled to herself, and Cassian gave a quiet but unmistakable laugh before letting out a surprised exhale. Elain had a fairly good idea what Nesta was squeezing to shut him up.

“Should we order, then?” Mor asked, hand falling onto Azriel’s arm. “Any particular requests, Birthday Boy?”

“He’s thirty now,” Rhys pointed out. “I think that makes him a Birthday Man .”

“Birthday Old Man,” Cassian amended. “Don’t worry champ, I’ve already put some viagra in your bathroom.”

“You’re not supposed to share your prescriptions, Cash,” Azriel said with mirth, eyes sparkling even as his face remained neutral. “And besides, I would feel dead back if you needed one tonight and couldn’t find them.”

“Checkmate,” Mor purred as Cash flipped her off.

Beside Azriel, Elain was fighting not to blush again. Cash’s comment, however sophomoric and lewd, had her imagining what Azriel was like in bed. She wondered for a moment if Mor knew before dismissing the thought and the twinge it induced.

“Let’s put this poor souls out of his misery and order,” Feyre said, smiling at the server where he still waited patiently. “Maybe if Cash’s mouth is full, he’ll stop talking.”

Cassian grinned, and, after placing their requests for the chef’s tasting menu, they all settled into an easy conversation. Cash and Rhys regaled them with stories of Azriel at various ages, from the gawky child he’d been when they’d first met him to the shy teenager who’d been terrified of girls.

“Let him be,” Mor said, touching her friend’s shoulder. “He was sweet in high school!”

Rhys laughed.

“It took him a year to pluck up the courage to say three words to you,” he pointed out.

“And they were ‘here’s a pen’ in response to you asking him the time. Nice work, Shakespeare,” Cash said, attempting to muss Azriel’s perfectly styled hair before being batted away.

“I can’t imagine Az ever being awkward,” Elain blurted. “I bet girls thought he was mysterious and cool.“

“See?” Azriel said, gesturing to Elain. “This is why I sat over here.”

“Oh please ,” Rhys said, bubbling his lips. “Ellie’s just being polite. If you two had known each other in high school, we all know how to would’ve gone: you’d have had an obscene crush on her and your dreams of true love would have been dashed after she politely signed your yearbook ‘have a good summer, Adrian’, leaving you heartbroken and alone.”

Azriel gave Elain a soft smile, and her heart burst open as thousands of butterflies flitted out of it.

“I hate to say it, but he’s probably right,” he told her. “I assume high school Elain was very popular.”

“She was,” Feyre said. “Eight different guys asked her to prom.”

“I’m not surprised,” Az said, and Elain made a great show out of drinking out of her masu to avoid having to answer.

She was relieved when the food began arriving to distract everyone, if only to save her the temptation of telling Azriel that there was no universe in which she wouldn’t have been into him, high schoolers or no.

Instead discussion turned to the Feyre and Rhys’s wedding as they ate, and as final plates were being cleared, Cash took the opportunity to once again mocked Azriel for the fact the latter had lost the rock-paper-scissors competition to be Rhys’s best man.

“I lost on purpose,” he told Elain quietly, taking a sip of the Yamasaki Single Malt he’d ordered after dinner.

“Why?” she laughed, following his gaze across the table to where Cash and Nesta were now bickering about whether Rhys’s stag night in Vegas would be better than Feyre’s hen do in Napa.

“Because Rhys told me that you’d convinced Feyre to pick Nesta as her maid of honor, and no offense, but your sister terrifies me. I’d much rather be with you.”

She laughed, biting her lip. It felt so terribly like they were flirting, but she couldn’t decide if it was her imagination or not.

“She terrifies everyone,” Elain said. “And I have a feeling this won’t our last trip down the aisle together.”

Azriel only quirked a bemused brow at this, which had Elain flushing scarlet.

“Not like that! She laughed, fumbling to pretend the idea of them being together was absurd rather than her heart’s desire. "I meant for Cash and Nesta’s wedding. Don’t tell me those two aren’t going to end up together.”

“We’ll have to work out a custody agreement when they finally get over themselves and start dating properly,” he agreed. “I’m spending a fortune on earplugs.”

She laughed, and he seemed warmed by the gesture, because he flashed a modest—albeit dimpled—smile being turning back to the larger conversation.

After dinner they’d gone a cocktail bar, then an Irish pub, and finally—much to Azriel’s chagrin—a karaoke bar. Rhys and Cash spend the majority of the evening trying to wrestle Azriel on stage while Mor and Feyre sang duets to Beyoncé and Spice Girls.

Elain was content enough to sit back and simply observe the scene as it unfolded around her. It was hard to contain her giddy, dreadful anticipation when Mor left around one to check on Emerie and Azriel—besides bidding her farewell with a soft kiss on the cheek—didn’t move a muscle.

Less than an hour later, Cash and Nesta both disappeared about an hour after without so much as a goodbye. Elain groaned, hoping they’d be asleep by the time she got home.

She’d have to rally if she wanted to manage it; they would be at it for hours yet.

By three the place was clearing out, and besides them, only a few tables of marathon drinkers and a girl on stage performing a beautiful rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” remained.

“We’re gonna go,” Rhys said, arm slung around a rather drunk, giggling Feyre. “Ellie, do you want to come with us?”

Elain glanced at Azriel, who’s glass still had two fingers of whiskey in it. If she wanted a chance to be alone with him, this was it.

“I think I’ve got one more in me,” she said, smiling.

“If you mean drink, I’m in,” Azriel said.

“Oh c’mon, brother,” Rhys goaded. “Just one song. I wouldn’t even film it….much.”

“Do Beyoncé!” Feyre chimed in, and Azriel shook his head.

“You know I’d play in traffic before I ever sang karaoke,” Azriel said mildly, making Feyre laugh. "Thanks for coming.”

He rose, embracing Rhys and pressing a kiss on Feyre’s head.

“C’mon, my little drunkard,” Rhys told her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Let’s have sex when we get home,” Feyre said, her attempted whisper fully audible. Rhys pretended smack his forehead with his palm and a mimed, “ Oh brother ”, to Azriel and Elain before coax a still-singing Feyre outside.

Azriel chuckled before draining the last of his drink and rising. Elain pretended not to notice the way his well-tailored jeans fit his lean legs and…other parts of his anatomy as he adjusted his belt buckle and glanced down at her.

“Bud Light?” he asked, and she nodded, bobbing to her feet as well.

If she wanted a way to get closer to him that was more elegant than her increasing urge to crawl across the table and into his lap, this was certainly it.

“I’ll come with you.”

He flashed her a modest smile before indicating she lead the way. He ordered and waved off Elain’s attempt to pay before leaning on the bar to avoid towering over her. The gesture brought them nearly eye-to-eye, and Elain had to actively fight not to let hers roll back in pleasure at the bergamot and amyris wood notes in his sinful cologne. Up close Elain could see how much green he had in his hazel irises, and she wanted to tip into them and swim until she drowned.

“Did you have fun?” she said, desperate to get the conversation flowing again, and he smiled, making her stomach flop.

“I did, yeah,” he said, glancing around the bar in bemusement, as if still wondering how he’d ended up there. “Thank you for coming.”

Elain shrugged, grinning.

“You say that like you didn’t think I’d show,” she said, resting a cheek in her hand. She knew by now her expression was not her less than a swoon, though she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Hadn’t been this been her plan all along? Finally get Az’s attention long enough to tell him how she felt? Now was the best chance she’d probably ever get.

“No, I figured would,” Az said, interrupting her reverie. “Or hoped you would, whatever.”

Was that—

Did that mean what she thought it did?

Normally she would have chalked it up to wishful thinking, but the way he rubbed the back of his neck, dimples appearing as he huffed what almost sound like a sheepish laugh, had hope igniting in her chest.

“What does that mean?” she pressed, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

For the first time all night, he didn’t look away. Instead, his eyes skated back and forth across her face, as if she were a riddle he only had seconds to memorize. She watched, transfixed, as he wet his plush lower lip with his tongue before biting it almost self-consciously.

“It means I’m glad you came,” he admitted. “And that you didn’t go home with your sister and Rhys.”

It wasn’t the confirmation she’d been hoping for, and the ambiguity of the statement had her conviction waning. That could just as easily have been mean platonically, and if she pushed him and ruined things between them by making it awkward—

“Of course I’d be here for your birthday,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “That’s what friends are for.”

She couldn’t help the way her voice got stuck on the word, not when her throat suddenly began to clog with tears.

She had to get out of here, right now. Before she started crying and made things worse. She made to retract her hand but Azriel grabbed it, grip gentle but intent.

“El, don’t go,” he said, and she was surprised at the frank discontent in his normally-impassive expression.

She waited for him to explain himself before instead he let out another strained laugh, grip on her wrist easing. However, he didn’t let go entirely, choosing to intertwine their fingers instead.

Holding hands.

She and Az were holding hands.

And he—

She glanced back up to find he was studying her again, his face a mixture of terror and delight. When she gave his hand a soft squeeze, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Jesus, I am bad at this,” he said, reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear. She wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it, but she thought his gaze flicked down to her lips as he continued to study her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Bad at what?” She asked, though she’d begun to suspect she knew exactly what, even if it seemed too good to be true.

“At least my timeline is improving,” he breathed instead. “And I haven’t offered you a pen you didn’t ask for yet.”

Hoping she wasn’t misreading the situation, she let her finger trail down to trace the circular buckle of his Gucci before glancing back up at him and purring, “Do you have a pen?”

He smirked before raising his right wrist and glancing at his watch face over her shoulder.

“It’s….3:17 am,” he said, smile spreading as she gave a low sound of approval and flicked her gaze to his lips.

“Smooth,” she said, and tried not to lose her mind as he let his raised hand fall to the back of her neck and bent to kiss her.

He had almost girlishly full lips, and they opened for her as they settled into the kiss. Immediately his hand tangled in her hair so he could alter her head position slightly and get a proper taste of her. She groaned into his mouth he pulled at her lower lip with his teeth. He tasted like oranges and the expensive Japanese whiskey he’d been drinking all night, and pleasure tightened in her low belly as his tongue brushed hers. Her brought his free hand up to cradle her face, and in response she pushed closer to run her hands underneath of his shirt and down the silken skin of his back.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a heated half-laugh, nose brushing her cheek as he bowed into her touch. “You’re killing me, woman.”

She only smirked, feeling more confident now that she had before. She could hardly believe this was happening, but she was too excited about it to fully care.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, and he bit his lip, as if restraining himself from kissing her again.

“Like to another bar?” he asked, dazed as he continued to stare at her lips.

“Like to my bed,” she said boldly. “Or yours, depending on where Cassian and Nesta ended up.”

He didn’t speak immediately, just studied her, and she panicked.

“I mean, only if you—I’m sorry, should I not have—?“

He only kissed her again in response, more gently this time.

“Please stop apologizing,” he said, kissing her jaw now before seeming to realize something and pulling back, brows synced.

“I—Jesus, do you seriously not know?”

She felt a bit sheepish at his incredulous tone and fought not to stiffen.

“Know what?”

He laughed softly, though their was a edge of self-deprecation in it that kept the gesture from seeming conscending.

“I really am the worst at this.”

“At what?”

“El, I’ll crazy about you. I have been crazy about you since we met.”

“You have?” she blurted, horror fading into genuine—if elated—confusion.

He laughed.

“Did you think it was coincidence that you and I are always sitting next to each other at dinner? That I always find you at Rhys’s dumb parties?”

“I—“ she began, still trying to decide if this was a dream or not. “What about Mor, though?”

“Mor?” he repeated, confused now, too. “What about her?”

“I thought you and she—“

He leaned in to brush his nose against hers, and she blushed at the innocent affection in the gesture.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “I did have a thing for her in high school, but I got over it after she and Cash slept together at prom. We’re just friends, I swear.”

“But she’s always touching you, and every time I see you together you can’t stop looking at her.”

At this he laughed, his smile so genuine and open she almost didn’t recognize him.

“She’s always been touchy-feely,” he said. “She grew up in Madrid, and people are just more affectionate there, I guess. And I only watch her when you’re around because she called me out for having an absurd crush on you, and I was afraid she was going to get drunk and blow my cover by telling you.”

Elain shook her head, still not quite believing what she was hearing. Reading her expression, he bent to kiss her softly.

“What guy wouldn’t be crazy about you?” he breathed. “You’re incredible.”

This seemed to break the spell, and she twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him down for another steamy kiss.

“Text Cash,” she said a little breathlessly when they broke away. “I don’t want an audience.”

She couldn’t felt but feeling smug when he almost dropped his phone at those words. It felt good to know that she wasn’t the only one affected by all this.

“Cash and Nesta are at the lof—“ Az began after a minute, but Elain cut him off with a kiss.

H rose, pulling her against him as his tongue brushed the roof of her mouth.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he said as she kissed his neck and tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, earning a low groan. “You’ve been drinking.”

She grabbed his chin so he would look at her.

“Not that much,” she said, and it was true. “And besides, I wanted this way before tonight.“

“Good,” he breathed, pressing a hand to her low back to bring her close to him. “Because so have I.”

Though they spent the majority of the ride up town and the elevator up to her apartment making out, something seemed to shift as Elain’s door clicked shut behind him, as if the gravity of what they were about to do had finally caught up to them.

Reluctantly Az peeled his lips from where they’d been glued to her neck as he took a small step back, as if to give her space.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, feeling embarrassed for how much she still wanted him even now that he seemed to have come to his senses.

“Maybe we should—” he broke off, looking somewhat guilty. “Hold off.”

She nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay again.

“Are you worried this could mess things up in the group? Because I understand—“

“No,” he said hurriedly, coming forward again, as if he could no longer stand to be away. “Not at all. I just—you’re special, El. You deserve to be taken out and spoiled.”

“Az, you just took us to a $1,800 dinner! Or did you think I didn’t see you pulling our server aside?”

Azriel opened his mouth, and she covered it with a finger.

“You don’t need to earn my affection. It’s yours already, free of charge.”

“I’ve just been—I waited so long to make my move and I’m terrified of fucking it up,” he said with a soft laugh.

“Why, are you bad at sex?”

Azriel laughed, seemed to relax at her teasing.

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he breathed again her lips, kissing her deeply again.

She gently bit his lower lip in response.

“Then I’d say you’ve gotten nothing to worry about,” she said, kissing him a third time.

She moaned softly when drove his fingers into her hair, hips canting towards her as he pressed her more fully into the door.

She could feel his body’s reaction to her pressing between her thighs, and she moaned again.

“Fuck,” he breathed onto her skin. “You are so gorgeous.”

“So are you,” she said, running her hands up the back of his t-shirt and feeling the mosaic of muscles flexing underneath. “Take this off.”

He laughed and pulled the offending garment over his head, making her groan in delight.

“God, this body ,” she breathed, running a hand down his chest and enjoying his shiver at her delicate touch.

He responded by spinning her away from him and gently dragging down the zipper of her dress until he could slip a hand inside of it.

“I knew you couldn’t have a bra on underneath this thing,” he said, voice a touch smug as he cupped both bare breasts and her breath caught in her throat..

“I’m surprised you even noticed,” she said, voice somewhat. “I wore this dress for you, and you didn’t even look at it once the entire evening.”

She laughed, the sound into a soft moan as he twisted one nipple in experimentation. When she sighed and let her head fall back onto his shoulder.

“Of course I noticed the dress,” he corrected. “You have the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen. I just knew that if I let myself look, I might not be able to stop looking.”

“You shouldn’t say that until you’ve seen them without the sorcery of underwire,” she said.

With that he spun her to face him, catching her gaze to ensure he had her permission before tugging down the top of the dress so her breasts fell free.

“Gorgeous,” he said, easing to his knees so he could replace his fingers with his mouth. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“If I known this was going to be your reaction, I would have worn a bodycon dress in front of you ages ago,” she said, threading her hands through his hair as he dragged his teeth and tongue along her nipple.

“You don’t need some tight dress to be sexy,” he said, resting his chin her her sternum so he could gaze up at her. “I’d take you in your overalls and pigtail braids any day.”

“Is this some Pippy Longstocking fetish we should all know about?”

He grinned, rising to his feet and giving one of her curls a playful tug.

“Because as devastating as you are playing dress up in your sister’s clothes, I prefer you as you.”

“You can’t say that when I’m naked,” she said with a smile, touching his cheek.

“Why not?”

“Because I may start crying and ruin the mood.”

He cocked his head to the side, tracing her lips with a finger.

“I wouldn’t mind a few tears from you in bed. But only if it’s from you sobbing in pleasure.”

His words sent blood pooling south, the intensity cause a dull throbbing.

“Why do I feel like you could do it, too?” She asked, reaching down to free his belt as he heeled out of his boots.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, taking her hand and guiding it between his legs. “Forget this,” he said, squeezing gently so she could feel how hard he was. “I could go down on your all night and be the happiest guy on Earth.”

Emerie had said as much once, at a drunken girls’ night.

Azriel strikes me as the type of guy who loves eating girls out. It’s why gay women find him so easy to befriend; we recognize kindred spirit.

Elain vowed to never tell the others she’d been right.

“Will you let me?” He asked, gently nudging her dressing off her hips until it came free and pooled at her feet.

“Is this a trick question?” She said, voice going hoarse as he slipping a hand into her underwear.

“Some people don’t like it.”

“I’m not one of them,” she said, he smiled, coaxing her legs around his waist so he could carry her.

“Thank God,” he replayed. “That would break my heart. Which way?”

She pointed him in the right direction before giving into temptation and kissing him again, looking to way she could feel like body reacting to hers as he held her close. Only when they reached her room—which was decidedly messier than she’d have liked considering Azriel Macar was now in it—did he set her down.

He wasted no time into coaxing her onto the bed, taking only a moment to admire the silky black thong she wore before dragging into down her thighs and discarding it.

“Spread your legs for me, El,” he said, brushing kisses to her knee as she slowly did as he commanded.

The light from the nearby street lamp made the room a lot less dark than Elain was used to during sex, and for a moment she though to be embarrassed or postpone. Then she glanced down to admire the contrast of Azriel’s inky black hair framed against the pale skin of her thighs, and she forgot what it even meant to be self-conscious as he finally put him mouth on her.

She swore at the first brush of his tongue, which was both deliberate and extremely delicate. She threaded a hand through his hair at his second stroke, the touch more intentional this time.

“Azriel,” she breathed.

She watched the muscles in his beautiful back shift at this, as if hearing her moan his name had untethered something in him. When he put his mouth back on her, it was clear he was no longer attempted to tease her. Instead he felt right to where she needed him most, refusing to relent until she tipped over the edge.

Even then he didn’t seem satisfied, it and it was only after he made her come a second time did he pull back, licking his lips before bending to kiss her.

“Take your pants off,” she demanded. "Right now.”

She felt him grinning against her neck as he peeled off of her, slowly working the buttons of his pants before sliding them down his trim hips. He wore black boxer briefs underneath, and he honestly looked like an Armani model. She bit her lip, eying the sizable swell of him through the cotton.

“Those too,” she breathed, greedily drinking in his well-defined adonis belt and the bare trace of hair above the band.

He did as she commanded, and she nearly melted. Naked he was a God, all rippling muscles and smooth unblemished skin, save for the chest piece tattoo that extended onto his shoulders and halfway down his arms. She let her eyes sink lower. Even half-hard he was big, and her belly clenched.

Wasting no time, she urged him to take her place on the bed before kneeling at his feet and putting her mouth on it.

“Shit,” he hissed, driving a hand into his hand then down his face. “Ellie, you’re kiling me.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, and he growled in approval, seeming to decide something before breaking her grip on him and hauling her to her feet. He kissed her again, and she could feel his cock as it practically pulsed between them.

She still wasn’t sure she could believe it was for her, that somehow he wanted her as much as she did him, and had for almost as long.

“Condoms,” he breathed against her mouth. “I need to be inside of you.”

She froze.

“I don’t have any,” she said, dismayed.

How could she be so stupid? Why didn’t they stop on the way home? The closest bodega was six blocks, and she knew everyone who worked there. The last thing she needed was all of them knowing—

Azriel pressed a swift kiss to her lips before tangling from her.

“Where are you going?”

“To grab a condom.”

“Naked?

He flashed her a slight grimace, “Let’s agree you won’t ask where I get it from.”

“Oh Moses,” Elain said, face flushing scarlet as she listened to Nesta’s door creaking open.

Azriel was back in less than a minute, tossing an entire box onto the nightstand as he pulled open one of the foils with his teeth, using his free hand to push his damp hair, long enough to brush his cheekbones now that it wasn’t styled, out of his eyes.

“You found those distressingly fast,” Elain said, unsure if she was amused or mortified at the situation.

“Cash is predictable with his hiding spots,” Az said, eyes hooded as he stroked himself several times before rolling the condom onto his length.

“And why did you take the whole box?”

Azriel laughed softly.

“Because I have a feeling we’re going to need them.”

Without another word Az sank to his knees again, one hand lazily stroking himself to maintain his erection as he went down on her again.

This time it only last three seconds or so before he pulled back, resting one knee beside her hip to steady himself before pulling her onto his shaft in a single wet stroke. Using her left bent leg as leverage, he adjusted his angle, smirking at her low, guttural moan of pleasure.

“Good to know your g-spot is as sensitive as the rest of you,” he breathed, and she laughed and tugged him into an ambitious rhythm.

Soon the only sound was their shared breathing, and the sliding on their bodies against one another. She came first, and he followed even before the dizzying waves of pleasure ceased. He pumped lazily in and out of her for another half dozen stroke before gently extracting from her and peeling off the condom.

She curled against him, cheek pressed to chest as her hands continued to explore. Her fingers caressed his swelling pectorals and each of his abdominal muscles before lazily venturing back between his legs. He gave a hiss of pleasure as she began to work his silken shaft in earnest, and in minutes he was fully ready again.

He groaned when she snatched one of the condoms and rolled it onto him before swinging a leg over and sinking astride him.

Her third orgasm hit her only a short time later, and she sighed when he bucked up into her before going languid under her ministrations.

She leaned down to kiss him as he ran a soothing hand down her back.

“Jesus,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers and swirling his hips, still inside her despite his orgasm. “That was incredible.”

She purred her contentment, feeling something even more alluring than desire swell in her chest as he discarded the second condom and tugged her into his arms, tangling their legs. He still smelled like cologne, but it had mixed with her perfume, and sweat, and the scent was intoxicating. She wanted to bath in it—in him—until she died from bliss. She listened to his breathing even out, and as she was drifting off to bed, he felt his breath ruffle her hair.

“Do you like pancakes?” he murmured. “I want to make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Really?” she said, looking at him over a shoulder and melting at the warmth in his smile, less guarded now than it had been even hours before.

“I want to make breakfast for you every morning,” he breathed. “I have since I met you.”

She smiled, nestling closer to him.

“I’d love that, but I should probably be the one making you breakfast. It is your birthday, after all. You have to let me give you something other than a bj and a few orgasms for your birthday, even if it is your dirty 30.”

Az choked on a laugh.

“Say you‘ll dinner with me, then. No family or nosy friends around, just us.”

“I think the word you’re looking for it ‘date’,” she said, laughing as his cheeks flushed before realizing something. “Or is the idea just too formal for the situation? I know we did things a bit backwards...”

“We did,” he agreed, stroking her cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I want to spoil you any less. So yes a date, if you’ll still have me.”

“I will,” she said, meeting his hazel eyes before gently kissing him. “With pleasure.”

He smiled against her mouth.

“Then that’s the only birthday gift I want or need from you.”

She smiled, feeling happy to the point of bursting when he kissed her ear and closed his eyes again.

"Happy Birthday, Az.”

His hum of contentment vibrated through her back.

“The happiest,” he breathed.

[mst3kproject]

Santo and Blue Demon vs the Monsters

When I started this blog way back in ancient times, before 'ad 1 of 2' was even a twinkle in YouTube's baleful eye, I really planned to watch more Luchador movies.  When I look at my catalogue, however, I've only done three: Samson vs the Vampire Women, Curse of the Aztec Mummy, and Night of the Bloody Apes. Why is that, when I've managed to watch fourteen fucking fishman films?  Honestly, I think it's because two out of three were so abysmally bad that I subconsciously wrote off the entire genre.  Can't be having that. Time to give Mexico's favourite sport another chance.

Neurologist Dr. Bruno Hadler has died, leaving unfulfilled a promise of revenge on El Santo and Blue Demon, the wrestlers-slash-superheroes who destroyed his career.  Shortly after the scientist's funeral, his body is stolen by four zombies and a bald hunchback midget named Waldo, and taken to a secluded castle, where they use equipment straight out of a Gamera film to bring him back to life!  With his castle full of monsters and an evil clone of Blue Demon, Hadler sets out to kill not only the wrestlers, but his brother Otto and niece Gloria, who I guess their Mom always liked better or something.

If anybody wants to know, El Santo's name was Rodolfo Guzmán Huerta, and he earned that cameo in Coco. Imagine if Dwayne Johnson only ever played himself, in over fifty movies that were called things like The Rock vs the Strangler's Ghost and The Rock vs the Invaders from Mars, and also had his own line of comic books and became a cultural symbol of justice.  El Santo did all that without ever showing his face in public.  As far as I can tell only two photographs of him without the mask actually exist, one of which is from his retirement announcement and the other his actor's union card.  The guy is a legend.  Too bad his movies suck.

Santo and Blue Demon vs the Monsters is basically just a series of ass-kickings, strung together with the barest possible minimum of plot.  Before the story even starts, we get ten minutes of wrestling.  First it's some women wrestlers we don't know anything about, then it's Blue Demon (Alejandro Muñoz Moreno, almost as much of a legend as El Santo) and three other guys tossing each other around while El Santo just stands in the audience watching.  The wrestling looks like a playground fight, lacking any sort of choreography and is filmed like it's meant to be shown on the six o'clock news.  The director doesn't even try to make it interesting to someone who doesn't already follow the sport... but then, since wrestling fans are the film's explicit target audience, maybe it never occurred to him to try.

We then move on to the two luchadors discussing the death of Dr. Hadler, in which we learn that they've encountered him previously and thwarted some evil plan, and that as well as hating Santo and Blue Demon, Hadler also hates his relatives.  This is all the backstory we ever get.  Gloria asks her father why Hadler hates them so much, but gets no answer – later the mad scientist tells Otto, “you said I was crazy!” but goes into no further detail.  Whatever prior encounter Santo and Blue Demon had with Hadler, we never hear about it.  Is this supposed to be a sequel to some previous El Santo movie I haven't seen?  IMDB doesn't say and I am sure as hell not watching them all just to find out.

Because all the time that could have been spent setting up the story was wasted on guys in speedos grappling, we never get a sense of El Santo and Blue Demon being rivals in the ring but best friends outside it.  We're told about it, but that's not enough when the whole movie is supposed to revolve around this relationship.  Hadler decides to send a clone of Blue Demon to assassinate El Santo because he thinks doing so will destroy Santo emotionally as well as physically, and there is a brief discussion of Blue Demon's 'betrayal', but none of this has any impact because we have never been shown their friendship.  I suppose this is another thing that wrestling fans would already know coming into the theatre, so the film-makers figured they needn't bother.

The other reason Hadler needs a clone of Blue Demon is because the titular monsters of the film are a truly pathetic lot.  There's a mouth-breathing mummy with a visible zipper in the back of his costume.  There's a wolfman and a Frankenstein monster (amusingly, the Spanish spelling of this is apparently 'Franquestain'), both of which look like they bought costume kits at Party City.  There's the same terrible cyclops costume from The Ship of Monsters, which looks very much as if it had simply been sitting in a prop warehouse for ten years before these people dragged it out and gave it a quick coat of paint.  Hadler has an army of zombie slaves represented by guys in green makeup that doesn't even reach their hairlines.  It comes off over the course of fight scenes and sometimes the makeup people didn't bother to do the actors' arms and hands.  There's a creature with an exposed brain that hangs around the evil lab and never does anything. And then there are the vampires.

There are three of these – the main dracula-esque guy and two women in lingerie that he attacked and vampirized on the streets.  One of these attempts a seduce-and-destroy on El Santo, which he almost falls for despite the movie having established that he's dating Otto's daughter Gloria.  The male vampire is a skinny little dude in the traditional tux and cape, who astonishingly manages to turn into an even faker fake bat than the one in The Devil Bat. The fact that the vampire is easily the least threatening out of this entire monster mash makes it downright hilarious that he's the one who tries to take on El Santo in the wrestling ring.  Once he puts on his own mask, it's painfully obvious that it's a completely different actor, and the wrestling itself is once again interesting only to those who like wrestling – the rest of us are too distracted by the guy in the crowd who looks strikingly like OJ Simpson.

At least, unlike Samson vs the Vampire Women, Santo and Blue Demon vs the Monsters keeps its creatures straight, and doesn't have the vampire wrestler transform into a werewolf when he gets unmasked.

The rest of the fight scenes are actually even worse.  At least the Santo-vs-Vampire fight had some focus.  In other parts of the movie, the monsters and the Blue Demon clone just rush into a room and start brawling.  The only evidence of fight choreography is the fact that the goons are considerate enough to take turns rather than dogpiling El Santo all at once.  The camerawork is no more interesting than in the ring scenes and there's never a sense of a 'story' to the fights.  At any one moment we have no idea who's winning or why.

In between the fight scenes, a lot of what we see is just killing time. The monsters wander around and kill a few random extras for no particular reason – doing so doesn't seem to further any part of Halder's diabolical plan, they just do it because they're monsters. El Santo and Gloria go for a drive and make out a little, which is just barely entertaining because Santo is of course still wearing his mask.  In Samson vs the Vampire Women we never saw the title character outside of the context of wresting and/or superheroing... in Santo and Blue Demon vs the Monsters we get to see the luchadors being people, but they have to maintain the mystery of their identities.  Thus we get ridiculous scenes of Blue Demon hanging out backstage in a t-shirt and slacks with his mask still on.  I think we're meant to believe that even El Santo's girlfriend doesn't know his real name.

Nobody in the movie acts like this is weird, by the way, even when El Santo dines at a restaurant with his mask on.  Is this something that goes on in Mexico, Luchadors just wandering around in their masks when they don't feel like going incognito, like the exact opposite of Dolly Parton?

There appear to be two different types of Luchador movies – there are the kind like Night of the Bloody Apes that have Luchador characters, and there are the type like this that have actual Luchadors playing fictionalized versions of themselves. Neither actually have to be bad, but I'm guessing that the ones with real Luchadors are far more likely to be, because of the flaws I've discussed above.  The fact that these characters come with lore that their fans will be familiar with is a gateway wide open to lazy writing.  The need to maintain the mystique makes it difficult to present the characters as people the audience can connect with.  Luchador films are for wrestling fans, and wrestling fans only.

Honestly I would much rather have had the prequel to this movie – the one in which El Santo and Blue Demon ruin Hadler's previous evil plan, and which would explain why Hadler hates his family and how El Santo and Gloria ended up dating without him revealing his identity to her.  But if I have to have this film, I wish we'd seen more of Hadler's midget hunchback assistant, Waldo.  He's not just the Igor to Hadler's Frankenstein, he has mad science ambitions of his own.  Waldo wants to experiment on the captive Blue Demon, but Hadler won't let him, which I hoped would eventually lead to Waldo turning against his master and possibly even out-evilling him to become the Big Bad.  Sadly, it was not to be, and we barely even see him again.  I haven't spent this much time wondering where Waldo is since... well, Where's Waldo.