#that bash max or try to start shit against

[reigningm4x]

i think it's VERY CLEAR that checo's team negotiated this type of exit in order for red bull to keep SOMETHING. anything. red bull, the team they usually are, don't do this kind of shit for no reason. max was ALWAYS going to be nice about checo because he was HIS TEAMMATE. max did plenty when it came to daniel's last race but apparently selective memory is a thing y'all have. lmao.

[kaija-rayne-author]

DAV is maximized (made for?) Tank/Warrior players

Curiosity is absolutely one of my fatal flaws. I was sorta feeling shitty about the whole 'you probably just suck at the fighting system in DAV' thing.

Let me preface this with saying that I'm good with rogues. It's my usual playstyle and I almost always do a first run of any RPG as a rogue.

What I'm really not all that good at? Tanks. Pretty much any other class I'm at least suitably competent with. I mean, I can tank, but it's just not something I'm more than acceptably good at. I also have very little experience with them. I think I've tanked in 3 games? Out of the, it must be hundreds, of games I've played? I just don't prefer to tank. I'm a rogue/mage/healer style player. The one who backs up the tank or keeps them on their feet, y'know?

So, because curiosity will likely be the death of me at some point, and despite never wanting to touch it again, I made a warrior character in DAV. I just... had to know if it was me or the game. I suppose I enjoy actually being a good gamer more than I suspected. DAV offended my pride, perhaps. Self-awareness isn't comfortable.

That fighting system, that I had so much trouble with as a rogue (with other rogues and a mage as backup since we don't get our tank companions til later in act one) has, so far, been so fucking easy as a warrior I'm actually thinking of increasing the difficulty level.

DAV is just maximized for warrior players and people who like to bash barrels in, not any other class. Which is just shitty game design.

I suppose I should have seen it before. The rest of the companions you start with are all support characters. Two rogues and a mage. Your first companion you aquire is Bellara, also a rogue. Oops. Mage. Bellara is a mage. I forgor.

I dunno, I'm going to run this character until I get to the spot (when Harding receives her special ability) where I first wanted to rage quit as a rogue. But so far? I haven't died once. I'd gotten creamed numerous times as a rogue character by this spot in the game. I can go toe to fucking toe with a fucking ogre! And only have to heal once!

It's truly ridiculous. I'll test out mage after, if I can find the patience. It's reasonably unlikely that I'll actually decide to finish this run. Unless I do it for writing my fix it fic reasons . But I can kinda see more clearly why some people actually liked it. It's actually almost fun as a tank.

I did also say I'd never touch DAV again too, though, soooooo.

If you turn your brain completely off, don't give a shit about the Lore, and if the story is a back seat sort of thing for you as a gamer, this might actually be somewhat fun. It's not Dragon Age regardless, they screwed the pooch to sell the pups on that one. (I'm a Lore fiend, story and character first player. I legitimately don't give a shit about the fighting in RPGs. It's a back seat thing for me. As long as I can make it work, I'm good.)

SMDH

I said DAV was wickedly unbalanced in my review series, but I didn’t think it was so bad that they... just didn't bother to make it a fun game for rogue players. Despite them getting rid of half of what makes playing a rogue fun (sneaking, hiding in shadows, picking fucking locks, y'know, rogue stuff.) Not sure about mages yet. I do want to try one just out of pissed off, irritated curiosity, though.

Snorts. They made this game for warrior players. And I can't honestly find words to describe how shitty that is. It lacks most of the stuff that makes any RPG an actual RPG. It's maximized for warriors and people who like to destroy barrels. (Why. Why the fucking barrels?) Rogues are nothing but light skirmishers. I'll have to actually play a mage and see, but I've talked to people who said it's easy as a mage, too.

WTAF does BioWare have against rogue players to nerf the class so badly?

I'm honestly floored by how easy this game is as a warrior. I'll even test it out on max difficulty, (which is usually what I play at, max or one down).

But the shittiness of designing a game mostly for tank players can't be ignored. I changed nothing but the class. And I'm not far enough into the game yet for build to matter that much. I think I've gotten roughly 5 skill points to put into my character.

No wonder they denied game keys to honest reviewers.

[twinkleallnight]

One Night in Cordonia

Chapter 6 : Road to Recovery

Series: One Night in Cordonia, a @choicesprompts Round Robin Event.

Fandom: TRR so far, but others could be added in

Pairings: Various

Word count : ~ 1k with summary.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: talks about sex, innuendos, language

Prompt: Fantasy @choicesjunechallenge or @liaromancewriter.

A/N: This was fun to write playing with my fav characters in an odd setup. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for including me 😘. My sincere thanks to @angelasscribbles and @lizzybeth1986 for being the force behind the scenes.

Next author: @kingliam2019

Summary: It's Leo's social season. The day is Beaumont bash after the formal dinner is done and the royal couple has left. Anton sends his second in command Claudius to spread a fog "Death Smash" that would leave the guests paralysed and he would attack. But the gas delivered was Shagging smog 2.0, by mistake, leading to a sexual frenzy amongst guests. Anton himself goes to check and falls prey to the gas. The only unaffected members are Max (immune), Leo (because he was in the gardens and Olivia (partially affected, trying to fight the effects)

"Tell me everything you know," Leo declared.

Amidst Olivia's uncontrolled advancements, Max summarized the events that took place in Leo's absence.

"What do you think we should be doing?"

Leo took a moment to think before he dashed to the staircase. Max followed, dragging a dizzy Olivia along.

Leo spoke as he climbed down, "Search for that American model Riley first and her press secretary. We have to make sure they are not recording this for their channel. Snatch their cameras if that's their plan. Can't let the whole world see the mess we are in, right now."

Olivia giggled at the thought but quickly composed herself, covering her mouth. Leo shook his head looking at Olivia swaying against her wish, trying hard to remain sane.

He took out his phone and flipped it open to contact the palace. "We need backup if this is an attack." He stated.

Max nodded while handling Olivia, who was again leaning on him. "Olivia…"

"Hmmm?" She looked up at him with a seductive gaze. He eyes roamed across the flush on her skin making her look more attractive.

"You are testing me." He groaned. He touched her cheek to help wake her from her slumber but his fingers lingered on, feeling her soft skin. She gave him a foolish grin. He was about to give in when…

"Max." Leo called him. "Maxwell, Not now! And not her. Remember what she will do to you when she comes back to senses."

Max realised he was playing with fire. His caressing hand started patting Olivia hard.

"Olivia! Olivia!"

"Oww, oww, ouch!"As soon as she was alert she noticed she was hugging Max and he was standing awkwardly. She straightened up and made some distance. She rubbed her cheek that had turned red from Maxwell's patting.

"I am sorry." Max apologised.

"Can you be a bit gentle? I know I am under the spell." She said in a stern tone trying to hide her inner fears, now that she knew about his fantasies of her. She was aware that she was adding fuel to the fire everytime cuddling up to him. But she liked the idea somewhere deep inside. She blushed fiercely and tried to look away.

Thankfully, Leo interrupted her train of thoughts. "I have called for a platoon of men from the palace. Let's go and find Riley now."

They searched through the tangled bodies but couldn't find anyone important. Everyone still seemed to be affected. A hearty laugh between the moans and groans caught their attention. They turned around the corner and saw Riley who was attempting a pole dance on some fake pole.

Liam was splayed on a couch in front of her, his gaze fixated over the display Riley had put up. His eyes did not have the glaze that others had but he seemed to be totally invested into the American beauty. Before they could step ahead, Leo's phone rang.

"Shit. Father is calling." He tensed at the timing of the call but still recieved it.

"Leo?" Constantine almost barked through the phone. "Why have you ordered guards with masks? What's going on? What are you upto and where are you?"

"Father, I am at the same place you left me, Ramsford, with Beaumonts." Leo tried to keep his voice calm.

"But why the guards?"

"I.. we… we might have a situation here." He fumbled.

"Spill it already, will you?"

"There is a fog here and we don't know who spread it but everyone is acting weird."

"Exactly in what way are they acting weird?"

"They are.. they are all making out."

"What are they making?"

"I mean, they are…all undressed and ….lustful." Leo was the infamous playboy but when it came to his father, he was finding it difficult to discuss the matter.

"Why are you talking in jumbled words? What do you think? You were born from an egg? Can't you just use the right word?"

"Sex. They are involved in a sexual frenzy." Leo blurted.

"Dammit!" Constantine cursed under his breath. "You have been attacked by Shagging Smog."

"A what?"

"It's kind of a sex pollen, you fool."

" How do you…?" Leo couldn't understand how his father knew the details.

"Where do you get that playboy streak son? Been there, done it all, my child." Constantine smirked over the phone. "Catch hold of your brother and Beaumont boys. They can help you. "

"How?" Leo uttered in a confused state.

"It affects a person only once. The smog cannot alter your mood on a second exposure. Also, it changes genetics. So, you, Liam and the Beaumont boys remain unaffected."

"You mean you and Duke Barthelemy?" Leo tried to comprehend.

"Yes," Constantine rolled his eyes. "we both have had an exposure to that stupid chemical once. So Max and Bertrand are also immune.

" But Bert was.. " Leo's voice trailed away, figuring out what he was about to reveal about Bert and Drake.

"What about Bertrand?"

"Nothing. I will find him. He is somewhere here." Leo tried to dissipate the urgency.

Constantine let out a deep sigh. "Collect the boys. I am coming there."

Round Robin Readers list:

@tessa-liam @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @secretaryunpaid @squid-princess-teach-swallow @kristinamae093 @fearyrain @petiteboheme

My tags: @3pawandme @alj4890 @angelasscribbles @bascmve01 @bebepac @busywoman @dcbbw @choicesficwriterscreations @harleybeaumont @iaminlovewithtrr @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @lizzybeth1986 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @neotericthemis @mom2000aggie @phoenixrising0308 @princess-geek @sazanes @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @sillydg @tessa-liam @tinkie1973 @txemrn @walkerdrakewalker @rubiwalker @703cowbarn @kyra75 @likealotus @kskvb20 @marietrinmimi @juan-francisco-palencia

[charles-leclerc-official]

I know you don't do hate on here and I really respect you for it - you're one of the very few accounts, that, despite avidly supporting one particular driver/team, does not go out of their way to shit on the other ones. This makes your race analyses all the more enjoyable, as I can always use them for reference, even against people that try to start fights on the topic of driver vs driver - I know you will always be taken seriously because your takes are as objective as possible (the only subjectivity being a sprinkle of extra praise for Charles here and there, but hey, he deserves it!)

All of this being said, however, I need to ask your personal opinion of the McLaren boys as drivers and as personalities - since as another die-hard Ferrari fan I cannot stand McLaren as a team but have found myself being fond of Oscar on occasion and ugh I just wanted to see if you get the rare flashes of affection too, because it feels almost sacrilegious to say that about a McLaren driver.

Anyhow, love your account, keep up the great work <3

Ah thank you so much, I have my opinions etc, but unless it becomes relevant to what's happening on track there's no point in just trying to knock other drivers, I'd rather spend my time enjoying my team and my drivers than anything else.

On the Mclaren line up, I do very much like Oscar, he's a good driver and I find him extremely relatable to me personally, it's just a shame he's in that orange team. But I get it, he wants to be in a good car and Mclaren are currently the ones able to give him that.

Lando isn't my favorite, I just don't vibe much with his humor.

As a duo they seem fun, I enjoy them on the rpf side of things, for those unaware I am a fic author (pretend to be shocked)

But yeah I can separate them just as people from the team. But I can not and will not cheer for a Mclaren driver to win or be on the podium

I like a lot of drivers. I respect good race craft, if you are good on track chances are I am compelled by you.

You can like a lot of drivers, but there is a difference between liking a driver and who you actively support during races. I like Oscar, I like Max, but on track I am cheering for one man to win and that is Charles, and if not Charles then Carlos because he is in red. I want red on the top step before anything else.

Also with objectivity. I don't post the most objective things, what I try to do is look at what actually happened and figure things out from there, with the goal not being to post my first emotional response but rather to take a step back and see it from there. I don't like the way a lot of narratives get spun about races. And I think a problem in F1 journalism is a lack of transparency when it comes to bias. I try to combat that by being abundantly clear where my bias stands, and where analysis crosses more into opinion. That way a reader can take or leave what I say and have no real doubts about what my angle is on a topic. There are a lot of journalistic outlets that have a clear bias, but because they will never admit it, what they say can be very misleading to a lot of people.

I am very much of the belief that no driver is above critique, and I want when I critique someone to matter. That doesn't work if I am bashing them weekly over nothing. Yes even Charles, if he makes a mistake I will point it out (not my fault he's just had a stellar season with no glaring errors yet. There are few things that maybe could have been better, but my man has yet to stumble) Does that make sense? Like when I do point out an issue with a driver I hope that the words will carry real meaningful weight.

Thank you so much anon, the support truly means a lot <3

[bugsbenefit]

I hate Will stans they think he’s better then mike and I hate it. mike isn’t the one constantly whining I like will but I don’t lOVE him. He’s got some flaws and his fans don’t look at his flaws they think he’s above everyone else. Their fav said with his own mouth mike is the heart of the party. If anything mike is better then will in some stuff but at least I’m not making anti will anons I’m just saying, the way they speak about him you would think he was el or something. Maybe they should speak and boast when he’s not being sidelined before they get all confident and bash mike WHO STARTED THE SHOW.

well now this does read hatery and anti Will fan

but based on what you're saying/describing it sounds like you're talking about the very weird breed of Will solo stans that only care about the show and characters through a Will lens and nothing else. because if that's what you meant i'd agree

i'm gonna say most Will fans like him because of his role in the story and his personality/character flaws/narrative, essentially the normal (or insane) way to care about a character. me included! Will is interesting! and my dash is almost exclusively filled with people that care about Will's actual canon character and the story of the show outside of Will, so they have an actual grasp of the greater narrative, including how Will plays into it and how Other characters are also important to it

but the extremely weird subset of Will-solo-fans (that apparently found their way into my askbox lmao) openly admit to only caring about Will and nothing else. which means that they also tend to have absolutely horrible takes on every character that isn't Will, the plot, and most of the times even Will himself. because you obviously can't interpret a character correctly if you, for example, vehemently hate his love interest to the point you can't even acknowledge the character depth of said love interest which includes their shared history

that's also the group of people on here i've actively seen try to compare Will's experiences and trauma to every other character and try to prove how Will is the best at everything and always in the right. an insane take to have on Any character, but especially if you're trying to use it to "prove" how they're an interesting or engaging character

most often that comparison hits Mike from what i've seen. that Mike's own issues or trauma are inferior to Will's, that his impact on the story or role in the narrative is nothing compared to Will's, that only Will's pov in byler is interesting and worthy to explore, and so on. but i've also seen it hit other characters, like people trying to weigh Will and El's trauma or people calling Max's s4 arc a rip off of Will and saying she'll never be him. still, Mike seems to get the worst of it, which IS a bit odd considering that he's Will's canonical love interest, so you'd think you'd at least Try to understand or tolerate his character if you are invested in Will's narrative. but also might make sense with Mike already being a controversial character in general since we don't get his pov during his most controversial moments. even casual audiences are very conflicted about him currently. at least i'm assuming that's why these people specifically try to pit Will against Mike a majority of the time

and like you say, it really doesn't work in practice. it's kind of hard to shit on Mike and try to pretend he's useless and everyone rightfully hates him when Will himself is there on screen calling him the heart and leader of the party while tearing up. which is probably why these people are so far removed from the actual show and plot, you have to try really hard to pretend some scenes and plot points don't exist if you want to feel justified in writing Mike off as a main character

i don't feel like i have to explain how their approach is obviously really bad, both for their general takes on the show as well as for their idea of Will. i've definitely seen some Will takes before trying increasingly hard to make him seem like a character without a flaws that's always in the right and by far the most capable character that... well if Will was canonically like some of these "fans" are trying to portray him... i would either not care about his character because he'd be boring or actually dislike his character because he'd be flat and annoying (thankfully that Will isn't canon lmao)

but tbh the Will solo stan phenomenon is pretty interesting, as annoying as it is. because i've really only seen it on tumblr. kind of the antithesis to the twitter El solo stans i guess. but it's also interesting because i haven't seen that happen with other characters yet (even the Eddie/Steve/Billy fans were always their own beast in their own fandom corner and basically talking about a completely different show and not caring about the main kids at all). i've never seen any people that really like Mike or Max or something turn around and say they don't care about any other characters and that their favourite is the only character Anyone should care about. this is also just observation rambling, no conclusion here it's just something interesting to see with the fandom. essentially how tumblr has it's own equivalent to the toxic El solos that are completely insane about their favourite character and then get mad at people for also caring about other characters

i've said it before but i think there's just a real disconnect going on in the fandom where some people can't really deal with people having different favourite characters to them or even, god forbid, Multiple favourite characters. or, in general, talking about elements of the story they themselves don't care about. and instead of doing the normal thing and looking away or blocking/muting they feel the need to police what other people's interests are. really just feels like a bunch of people don't know how fandoms work for a lack of better wording

[unnerving-presence]

Hi I'm the anon that has send the request about the reader killing the killers, and I loved it!

Can I ask for a part two? Where the entity takes notice of how powerful the reader is and makes them her vessel of sorts, giving them powers and whenever Killers are misbehaving, she sends the reader to..... "teach" them a "lesson"

Same Killers please if you could 🥰

Wow I am so messed up

Of course :) I resisted the urge to elaborate on the readers power but the entity basically merged with them so they have the power of the entity in a way and they’re not as sympathetic so it’s easier for them to put the killers in their place

I love this concept so much I literally have to hold back from writing too much. if you couldn’t tell i love torturing the killers lmao

warning: graphic depictions of violence and gore. this is basically just torture stuff so if you are not comfortable with it please do not read!

Part 1

༒༒༒༒༒

Kazan Yamaoka/The Oni:

As brutal as you were, Kazan never expected the Entity to make you it’s servant. He hasn’t talked to you much ever since you’ve been restricted from going into trials, so the only way he would really know about you serving the Entity is if another killer told him, or if you had to punish him yourself.

For the first time in his life, he’s actually been afraid of someone. Nobody has been able to (alone) take him down. Now seeing as someone like you can? He’s not terrified, if anything he sees you as a little badass, but he does not want to get on your bad side.

He’s never seen you punish a killer, but he has seen the aftermath. The Hillbilly, better known as Max Thompson Jr., decided that he wouldn’t listen to The Entity, decided that he’d kill the survivors the way he wanted. All of them died too quickly for The Entity to feed on their fear, and she was not pleased. Needless to say that the poor man’s cries of pain could be heard for miles, and Kazan would never forget the way Max was desperately trying to keep his organs in place as he struggled to get back to his realm. You wouldn’t even give him the sweet release of death after you were done with him..

This is nothing like when the mob attacked, not even close. This was a new type of pain, pain that makes you wish you were dead. Kazan was never one to give up so easily, but in your grasp he feels so helpless. He doesn’t even have the energy to be angry anymore. He feels so vulnerable with his mask off, with his armor tossed to the side. His jaw is now broken, and his ribs feel like they’re going to snap at any second. You’ve barely started, and you’re already making him regret his actions in his last trial.

“I’m not going to kill you, but I am going to make it hurt.”

Michael Myers/The Shape:

At first, he doesn’t really seem to care that much. If he’s not the one in pain, it’s not really his problem. He still holds a bit of a grudge against you, meaning he stalks you, so he’s known since the start that you’re serving The Entity.

He’s surprised that you’ve gotten this far just from killing him, though he is a bit jealous. You don’t really scare him that much considering your small stature. If anything it’s kind of cute to him. Just a little thing like you running around and giving killers a little bonk on the head for not doing good in trials is a thought that almost makes him smirk. Of course those thoughts were before he’s seen you punish a killer. Now that he’s really seeing it in action, he understands why The Entity made you it’s servant. Though he is far from scared of you, he is a bit impressed at how the other killers feel a bit more uneasy when they see you pass by, some even fleeing to their own realms.

Michael can do almost anything he wants in The Entity’s realm without being punished. Hell, he even kills the survivors too fast for the Entity’s liking and comes back from a trial unscathed. Now with you by The Entity’s side, Michael isn’t as free as he used to be. Michael doesn’t know that however, and doesn’t really seem to care. Atleast he didn’t seem to care until he was the one in all those other killer’s shoes.

It’s been what seemed like hours and Michael looks like he’s on the verge of tears. With his own knife, you’ve managed to do quite a bit to him. His mask is removed, face terribly bruised with a nose bleed that seems like it could go on forever. He’s lost a couple fingers, and the remaining digits no longer have nails. His arms and chest are littered with large and small stab wounds alike, ones that you dig your fingers into when it seems like he hasn’t quite gotten the message that he isn’t in charge here. Michael’s vision occasionally blacks out, only to be woken up by a bash on the head with the handle of the knife. You’re not sure how much he can take, but you are sure that Michael will never forgive you for this.

Summoning a sharp tendril, you swiftly pierce it through Michael’s leg, waking him and receiving a loud grunt as he stares up at you with a tired but furious gaze.

“Wakey wakey Michael, I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Danny Johnson/Ghostface:

This man is so jealous. He was a killer way before you did anything special! Technically he does serve The Entity, but not in the way you do. Danny probably thinks you’re not all that since he’s probably still mad as shit that you embarrassed him like that.

He hears some of the killers talk about you like you’re a nightmare come true. Of course Danny calls it all bullshit and says you’re probably not as ruthless as they say you are. Honestly he just isn’t ready to accept that fact that you have more power over him than he does, and he’s not very fond of the fact that he can’t be an asshole to you anymore.

Danny has never heard nor seen you give one of the killers a lesson, but he has been given shockingly precise details on just what you can do to them. He’s never heard of a survivor having this much power over the killers. Well I guess he couldn’t call you a survivor anymore now, could he? Nonetheless he seems to forget that there are consequences for his actions, especially after a trial he didn’t do so well in.

Danny hasn’t known fear until this day. He displeased The Entity, and now he pays the price. He can no longer see, but he can feel. He can feel the way you pry his mouth open and slowly cut his tongue open. He can feel just how strong your bond is with The Entity, how much you’ve changed. His throat burns from how much he’s been yelling in agony. He coughs up blood as it travels into his lungs, making it more difficult to breathe by the second. It was already worse having you kill him in a trial when you were a survivor, now this torture?

“I love that look of despair on your face.”

Frank Morrison/The Legion:

As if you couldn’t get any scarier to him, now you’re serving The Entity. He hasn’t talked to you ever since you last saw each other so he really has no idea of what you’re doing with The Entity until somebody goes up and straight up tells him.

From what he’s recently heard, you’re now going around teaching killers not to displease The Entity? Sounds odd that all of this is happening in such a short amount of time but it doesn’t make it any less scary for him. He hates being scared, but knowing that if he tries doing things his way will get him punished makes him kind of worried as he tends to go a bit overboard in some of his trials.

His friends are lucky enough to not experience the horror of being tortured into submission, but they have been told what it feels like. He tries his best to comfort Susie and tells her that as long as she does things the way The Entity wants, she will be okay. Needless to say The Legion is very scared of you. Please go easy on them they’re only teenagers (except for Frank of course)

It was bound to happen someday. Frank got too angry at those pesky survivors and wasn’t thinking straight. Not even in a trial, he managed to kill 2 of them. He would learn soon enough that killing isn’t allowed outside of trials. The rest of The Legion are huddled up in a corner. Susie is sobbing into Joey’s chest as he slowly rubs her back, trying his best not to look at what’s going on in front of him. Julie can’t seem to look away, pure shock seeming to be the thing holding her still. Frank feels like all of his bones are on the verge of shattering. How is he even alive at this point? His organs aren’t in place, scattered across the hard wood floor, leaving a sour smell behind. The only thing keeping him up at this point is the hook that is impaled straight through his shoulder. He wants so badly to just die, but The Entity is the only thing keeping him alive at this moment. No matter how much blood you spill, it’s not over until The Entity says it’s over.

“Oh Frank, you know this is far from over..”

[lazzie-writes]

what’s this? me getting super into the stranger things fandom and wanting to write something for once?! I’m finally living up to my name!! it’s going to take a bit to post the whole thing tho so don’t hold yer breath. I want to finish the story before I start posting 

ANYWAY! Enjoy a sneak peek!

The thing towers over the group. Its hideous petal head slowly opening leaving all the teeth on display. Glistening with slimy globules of saliva, they are numerous and slightly curved inwards, promising no escape once any of them are caught. Long claws have already left heir mark on Eddie, the gaping wound on his leg is still bleeding from where he’s kneeling next to Dustin, and Steve tries hard not to think about the damage the teeth could do. The kids, plus Eddie, are huddled behind the united, if shaky, front of Steve and Billy. Steve with his ever-present nail-bat and Billy with a razor-sharp fireman axe, nicked from Hopper’s cabin.

Steve tried very hard to ignore the creeping pack of demodogs lingering just outside the shaky cone of light Max’s flashlight is casting out into the woods. They’re likely waiting for the Demogorgon to take out the obvious threats before the tear into easy prey. The roar the flower-headed-monstrosity-with-too-many-teeth lets out is drowned by a must louder roar that sends the kids’ heads swiveling as they try to find the source. If it wasn’t life or death, Steve would’ve found the hesitance in the Demogorgon’s movements absolutely hilarious, but as it stands, he doesn’t and only prays that a second hasn’t shown its ugly head from the hell dimension.

Before long, the thing’s attention is back on the assembled Party and its many members and it’s lunging towards them. Steve swings. He misses. The bat gets raised again for another try. Billy aims his own weapon. He never gets to land the hit. Something large darts out of the darkness and slams into the Demogorgon, toppling the monster ass-over-tea-kettle and bringing it to the ground. Another roar rips through the whistling trees, reverberating deeper than the Demogorgon’s ever did. Canines sink into one fleshy petal and the large head whips to the side, taking the growth with it. The claws gouge at the spindly arms that come up to defend against enormous tiger hover over the grey monster. Steve doesn’t really believe his eyes. Mainly because it would mean that he’s watching a hulking interdimensional demon tussle with an equally huge tiger in Hawkins, middle-of-nowhere, Indiana. His attention is taken away from the two when the demodogs finally make their move to join in the fight to protect their larger comrade. He gets one of them with the swing he had lined up for the Demogorgon. He’s only just started feeling the burn in his shoulders from having his arms in that position for so long. Billy starts going after two other on the opposite side of the large circle the tiger-demogorgon duo have made from their fight. The large cat is ripping into the prone form of the hell-beast, tearing away flesh with each swipe of its massive claws. The demodogs go down as they always had. Not easily but with enough bashing, they do go down and stop moving. The Demogorgon has long stopped moving by the time they’re done. That’s when Steve’s brain finally makes its way back the variable in the fight it was skirting around. The tiger is sitting there, watching all of them with unblinking eyes.

“Hey, Dustin,” Steve calls out, mainly because he knows the little shit will point out any and all nonsense, “you see that too, right?”

“What? The giant fuck-you tiger that’s watching up like we’re the desert to a Demogorgon dinner?” Yeah, I fucking see it!”

Steve’s ‘language’ gets drowned by a low rumble from said fuck-you tiger. It gets to its feet and starts towards the group. Steve was sure in Billy and his ability to take down a few demodogs, maybe even give the Demogorgon a tough fight. He definitely isn’t sure about taking out the giant cat that just took a Demogorgon down like it was nothing. A low rumble fills the air as it continues to advance towards them. The group slowly shuffles back. Every inch closer is one inch back. They continue like this for quite some time. Air thick with tension and anticipation and no little amount of terror. It’s in this tenuous manner that they reach the end of the tree line near the Byer’s house and into the light of the back door. In the dim, yellow light of the bulb, the tiger is that more menacing. Its fur colored black with the sludge the Demogorgon oozed, chunks of it clinging to pale paws and capturing detritus from the forest floor. It is terrifying and awe inspiring and Steve’s hand itch to touch it.

Tension snaps like a thread of spider-silk when with a startled yell Lucas falls butt-first onto the stairs leading the back door. The tiger, however, doesn’t move from its spot. Doesn’t lunge and bite, doesn’t roar its terrifying cry, doesn’t do anything but watch the group shuffle about as they try to pick up Lucas and get inside the house in one go. Everyone makes it inside until the only one left is Steve whose been holding the door the entire time. Before closing the door, he looks back over his shoulder to check on the tiger’s position. It’s not there anymore. Steve frantically searches the tree line. To make sure it’s gone or it’s still there, he’s not really sure.

A low huff catches him by surprise and he looks down to find pitch black eyes of the predator staring back at him. The massive head moves forward, only to give him a light shove in the direction of the house. Steve’s confusion only grows as the shoves become nigh insistent. He finally moves towards the door where the rest of the group had been staring wide eyed at him without making a single sound. His steps falter a little as he enters the house.

Turning back to their strange animal savior, Steve says the only thing that can come to his mind, “Thank you.”

[imnotgonnafightyou]

An Apology

Y’all I’ve been killing myself trying to turn this into something longer and not really wanting to or knowing where to go when I remembered that I can literally just post it as a oneshot and get over myself. So here it is, a little somethin’ somethin’ as a continuation of this post, inspired by a lovely ask from @chenetic. Hope you all enjoy. Cheers!

-----

“Dingus,” Robin’s voice sounded through the divider. “Someone’s here for you.”

Steve groaned, lifting his head from where he was laid back on the counter, missing the cool metal on his cheek as soon as it was gone. “I’m on my break man, come on.” 

“You’re not gonna want to miss this,” came her sing-song reply. 

“Fine,” Steve grumbled to himself, sliding off the counter. He ran his hands through his hair, which felt futile at this point. It refused to cooperate once he’d worn the stupid sailor hat. He headed through the swinging door calling, “Henderson, your free ice cream could’ve waited until after my-“

Steve stopped dead in his tracks. Standing at the fucking counter of Scoops A-fucking-hoy was Billy motherfucking Hargrove. This had to be some sort of joke. Steve hadn’t seen Billy since he had bashed his skull in. Well, that wasn’t technically true. He had seen him around the halls at school. Or dodged him really. It wasn’t too hard to do. They weren’t in any of the same classes, and it was easy to predict when Billy was coming. You could hear girls sighing about 30 seconds before impact. But he certainly had not seen Billy Hargrove in any way that meant anything. They hadn’t talked or anything. Other than the occasional jibe thrown Steve’s way by the blond. There was definitely no reason for Billy to be standing at Steve’s work, apparently to see Steve. 

“Is this some kind of joke Robin? What the hell?” Steve shot angrily at his coworker. 

“What are you talking about asshole, he said he was here to see you,” Robin replied snottily. “How am I supposed to know who is and isn’t your friend. You’ve got people coming through here all the time like it’s a revolving door.”

“Everybody and their mother knows I’m not friends with Billy fucking Hargrove, Robin. What did you live under a rock this year?”

Before Robin could rebut, she was cut off. 

“Watch the language Harrington; you never know how many kids could be lurking around,” Billy said with his trademark smirk. 

“What do you want Hargrove?”

“Wanted to see what all the fuss with this place was about,” Billy said, with a devilish grin. He took a long moment to look Steve up and down. “Now I know what it is.”

“Look I don’t need this, so if that’s all you wanted.” Steve turned to head back out of the store.

“No!” Billy started. He looked less sinful, more sincere. “No, I…I wanted to talk to you actually.”

Steve searched the blonde’s face, hunting for a lie or a trick, but saw nothing. He nodded slowly. 

“Alright. Follow me.” Steve jerked his head towards the back room before making his way back. He slid back onto the countertop while he waited for Billy to follow him. They sat in silence for a moment, Billy making himself comfortable against the far wall.

“So, what’s up?” Steve asked.

Billy shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I realized that I probably should’ve apologized to you after the whole trying to beat the shit out of you thing last fall, so I came here to do that…so yeah.”

They were both quiet again for a moment.

“You really came here to apologize? Because if so that was a pathetic attempt.”

“Fucking whatever man; I just want us to be even okay. Truce or whatever.”

“I think we broke even after Max almost nailed your balls to the wall.”

“Yeah, well, that little shit bird has gotten me in loads of deep shit because of that night so the way I see it, she owes me one and I owe you one. And I guess you probably owe her one because I would’ve killed you.”

“Well, believe it or not, I already thanked Max because it doesn’t take normal people seven months to apologize.”

“Shit Harrington alright. If I’d known you were going to be all pissy about it I wouldn’t have bothered.”

“Fuck you, man. Get out of here.”

Billy made to leave and then perhaps thought better of it and turned back to face Steve. 

“Look man, I really am sorry. I know it took me however long to say it but I mean it. My dad was riding my ass to find Maxine and I was itching for a fight with someone and you just…happened to be there. Wrong place wrong time.”

Steve looked at him for a moment, thoughtful, before saying, “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

“Really? That’s it?” Billy asked incredulously.

“That’s it. I’m not one to hold a grudge anyway.” Steve smiled, shrugging.

“Oh sure, Saint Harrington,” Billy mocked. 

Steve flipped him off, laughing. 

“So I’ll see you around? Maybe come back for the ice cream next time?” Steve wasn’t positive but he thought Billy looked almost…hopeful?

“Sure man. That sounds good.”

A soft smile graced Billy’s face. “Cool. Bye Harrington.”

Billy quietly headed back out to the front of the store, pausing briefly to look at Steve with that soft smile still on his face, before vanishing.

Steve leaned forward until his head hit the countertop, muttering quietly to himself, “what the fuck was that?”

[gay-fandom-menace]

A little blurb inspired by me watching Anne With An E and discovering Amybeth McNulty has a rather nice singing voice. Alternatively, how we can still win and get some cast members singing in Season 5.

——————————————

“Oh f u c k.”

Vickie looks to Robin who is staring down at the Walkman in her hands—the Walkman which somehow holds once-good now melted batteries. Beyond the two of them, chaos swirls. Demobats fly and screech, the girl with a shaved head is fighting a wrinkly bastard, and various members of her high school are each becoming puppets—eyes rolled to the back of their heads. Including Max, a redhead Robin is very fond of and who Vickie has felt a growing affection of her own.

“Robin, what is it? What’s the Walkman for? H-how’s it supposed to help,” she gestures anxiously at the mess around them, batting away a small demodog with a folded chair, “with all of this?”

Vickie almost regrets asking as she watches Robin tear up and tighten her grasp on the broken machine. “It keeps him away from her. I-I- Kate Bush. Vecna was tripped up by his dad’s favorite song playing and it kept Max safe at the graveyard but now the Walkman is busted and I don’t know what we’re going to do because it’s all gone to shit and I can’t lose her—I can’t lose any of them—and I don’t know what to do-”

“What song?” Vickie interrupts. She heard everything Robin said but she only really understood one thing: music screws over the bad guy.

“Wh- Running Up That Hill.”

Vickie looks around and runs over to a plastic bucket, kicking it back to where she and Robin have been standing guard over the milk eyed innocents. She bashes a demobat a few times on her way over. “Give me a 4/4 beat.”

“Vick-” Robin must register something—Vickie doesn’t really have time to wonder—because she clamps her jaw shut with a shake of the head and begins beating the pseudo drum at a tempo fairly close to the underlying rhythm of the song. Band kids for the win, Vickie thinks with a smile before taking a deep breath and opening her mouth.

“I-it doesn’t hurt me,” Vickie sings out on a shake, hands trembling. “Do you want to feel how it feelsss?” The stakes are pretty high—they don’t think they can break the spell on folks- “Do you wanna know, know that it doesn’t hurt me?” (That’s a freshman’s job for some reason; you don’t argue with group accepted superpowers though, even if you are new) but they are trying to keep them from going serial killer victim. “Do you want to hear about the deal I’m making?”

Vickie’s terrified, really. Everyone seems less on the verge of… whatever it is that happens, somehow, but maybe that’s just her imagination. Maybe a single shaky voice doesn’t matter enough. Stupid, stupid, stupid plan-

“-And if I only could,” Robin cuts in—overlaps her—and Vickie’s heart stutters, “I’d make a deal with God-”

“-I’d get him to swap our places,” they sing together. Oh now that’s a nice thought. Together. A strange yet familiar concept in the unsettling scene of a veritable apocalypse unfolding before them all. Maybe alone wasn’t something she’d really ever been; maybe alone wasn’t enough to stop the world from ending; maybe an act of together is what stops something angry and twisted from winning.

As they near the end of the vocals, the puppets begin to sing, restarting the song from the beginning again. It flips Vickie’s stomach like curdled milk at first; it’s hardly comforting to witness still beings sing on rusted throats. Then it registers in her brain as something of a miracle when the ground around them starts to tremble and quiver as if its guardian seeks to shake off the vileness that had taken root and split its charge open.

And through all of it there is Robin, singing right alongside her, beating a bucket with great fervor in hopes of encouraging more voices to join, more blows to fall against an enemy she personally didn’t see at the moment. Vickie can’t help it. She smiles broadly as she sings. She’s hopeful again (that candle of future possibility blowing out for a short while when the sky darkened with ashy snow). Maybe when this is all over… maybe then she’ll take the chance on this slow-blooming warmth in her chest. But for now? For now Vickie will sing along with the chorus before and beside her and pray a harmony of souls will be enough to help a young girl defeat a monster. It helped her once, didn’t it?

————————————

Last sentence there is a bit of a self projection of music/singing + friends helping me through some hard times. We all have them so I figured Vickie, a band kid, would most definitely have some memories where rough times were soothed by good tunes and hopefully a buddy or two as well. Anywho, hope you enjoyed!

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E3; Chapter Three, The Case of The Missing Lifeguard - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘌𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘋&𝘋. 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦.

⚠️: more Billy/Mind Flayer shenanigans, more Y/n being Not Straight���️ and slight, whatever the huffy, whiney hell Hopper was during a majority of the season

📝: yall, idk how to describe hairstyles so I'm gonna clear it up now; the hairstyle Y/n is doing on El is the coil ponytail she wears at the end in That Scene™️ 🥲🚚👋📝🛣

Yes, I regret the whole "sisters" failsafe I put in specifically to stop myself. But as it turns out, no I cannot suppress the gay. So innocent, mutual pining ahead! 🥳🎉🌈

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

A pair of sock-covered feet bounce happily on the carpeted floor as Madonna's Angel blasts through the radio on the dresser. Max jumps back and forth on El's bedroom carpet, singing into the hairbrush she had found on the nightstand. Beside her, sitting on the bed is the girl herself, sporting her new colorful look; engrossed in a selection of teen magazines that are splayed out before her.

"You must be an angel,"

El bobs her head along with the tune, careful of Y/n's hand weaving through her hair from where she's kneeled behind her on the bed. She grins up at Max before going back to her work, her lips moving as she silently sings along.

"I can see it in your eyes,"

Y/n finishes the last coil behind El's left ear, and pulls it together with the other, merging her hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. After she tightens the bright blue scrunchie one last time, she mutters a defeated, "Alright. I tried," before she maneuvers around El across the mattress and allows herself to fall back on the right side of the bed, her head propped up on the rows of pillows. She grabs a magazine, boredly sifting through it while El delicately feels around the back of her head with a smile, admiring Y/n's work.

"Full of wonder and surprise,"

El's attention quickly returns to the magazine in her hands when she flips the page. She has to turn it sideways to see the whole thing. A young man, who El guessed to be just a little older than Steve, was smiling back at her.

Max's singing and dancing come to a slow when she notices El lingering on the page. With a chuckle, she discards the hairbrush from where she found it and kneels beside the bed.

"Oh, you found Ralph Macchio," Max simpers.

"Macchio?" El asks with a smile.

"Yeah," Max nods. "he's the Karate Kid,"

Both and El and Y/n jump when Max suddenly cuts the air in a mock karate chop and yells, "Hai-yah!"

They giggle and Y/n just rolls her eyes playfully. Particularly, at what comes next.

"He's so hot, right?" Max asks.

An amused grin glues itself to Y/n's face as her eyes peek out over the top of magazines to catch El's reaction. Y/n's smile spreads, buried under the pages when she sees El's face lit up in a blush.

"I bet he's an amazing kisser, too," Max says, drawing out a funny look in El's eyes. "Hey, uh,"

Y/n finds her eyes drawn to Max when she feels the old mattress dip a little under her weight. She notices a funny, almost intrigued look on her face.

"is Mike a good kisser?" She asks.

Y/n lets out an involuntarily "Blech!" At the question, discarding her magazine back to the pile with her nose scrunched up in disgust despite the smile still on her lips.

El laughs at Y/n, lightly shoving her knees that sat propped up above her as she shoots her a smile. "Not 'blech',"

Y/n has to readjust her head on the pillows to gawk up at El properly, a funny look hidden in her eyes.

"Wait, so is he like, actually," Y/n makes another face, failing to get through the sentence with a straight face. She laughs a little, putting a mocking tone in her voice. "'good' at kissing?"

El doesn't answer right away, much too confused with the direction this conversation had gone. She blushes again, giving her awaiting friends a bashful shrug.

"I don't know. He's my first boyfriend,"

Max is quick to correct her, but she does so gently. "Ex-boyfriend,"

El's face falls.

But Max is also quick to console her. She lands a gentle hand on El's shoulder, her voice going soft.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Okay?" El still doesn't seem too sure. "He'll come crawling back to you in no time, begging for forgiveness."

Y/n subconsciously fiddles with the ring pop still on her finger, a thin sheet of plastic still covering the candy diamond.

"I guarantee you, him and Lucas are, like, totally wallowing in self-pity and misery right now," Max's face scrunches up as she mocks the aforementioned exes. "They're like, 'Oh, I hope they take us back!'"

Y/n laughs, her left hand lightly smacking Max's arm, grabbing her attention.

"Yeah, but, Mike's probably more like," Max fights a sudden laugh when she catches the knowing look in Y/n's eyes. "'I hope they take us back! They have to—'"

Neither Max nor Y/n can fight the grin breaking out on both their faces as they finish in perfect sync.

-"take us back! Nyeh-nyeh-NYEH!"

Once again delightfully confused, El's stare travels between her newest best friend and her oldest; a warm feeling burrowing deep in her chest and gut, her stomach aflutter as she laughs with them.

"God, what I wouldn't give to see the look on their stupid faces," Max says, shaking her head wistfully.

El goes quiet, something neither of her friends miss.

"What is it?" Max asks.

That seems to snap everything into place, and Y/n props herself up on her hands. There's enough mischief in her eyes to match El's, and she quirks a brow.

"Wait. Are you serious?"

El only smirks, shrugging her shoulders.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Max asks, only to find herself under two impish stares.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El sits cross-legged against her dresser, the radio switched to static sitting just above her head. In her hands is the multi-colored headband Y/n had gifted to her over the holidays when her hair started to fall in her face. They both knew it could also double as a comfortable, makeshift blindfold in case she ever found herself traveling to the void again.

As she prepared to do now.

She hooks the headband over her head, pulling it down over her eyes as Y/n and Max took a seat.

"Is this really gonna work?" Max asks excitedly from where she's perched on the edge of the bed.

El nods, and Max's face lights up in awe.

"Holy shit, this is insane-!"

"Max."

"Right, quiet. I'm sorry,"

Y/n chuckles up at her noiselessly, completely understanding the excitement of it all. Particularly, since she had never once witnessed El demonstrating these powers unless it had been necessary.

Then came the waiting part.

Y/n had forgotten about the waiting.

It was all they could do. Wait as they watch El draw in a deep breath, allowing her mind to reach out to the person it had most.

She feels the imaginary water at her feet first, as she always did. It didn't take her as long as it used to to fine-tune the distorted voices cutting in and out, much like what she found her radio to do sometimes. But she did it soon enough.

She's back in the void, for the first time in a long while.

Part of her was worried it would be harder without as much practice as she got last year, but it wasn't.

The image that lay ahead of her was clear, the voices even clearer.

"What did I do wrong? What could I have done wrong?"

Mike.

He was laying on the couch. The one from his basement. El recognized it immediately.

And he wasn't alone, that much she  had suspected.

"Do I have to go through this again?" Lucas asks, sounding tired.

He was pacing around the couch, rubbing his face. Will was with them, he was hovering over the small table she had sat at only years ago.

"I see them," El says.

Max lowers herself to the carpet, sitting next to Y/n who leans in curiously.

"What are they doing?" Y/n asks.

"Eating."

The crunch of Dorito chips Mike had shoved into his mouth was loud enough to echo out across the entire void. He continues through an obnoxious mouthful.

"I just don't understand what I did to deserve this,"

El has neared them now, and she turns her head curiously to Will when he scoffed. He looked frustrated, and he sounded it too. But El could tell he was trying to fight it for the sake of his friends' feelings.

"Look, it sucks that that happened," he says. "But why don't you guys try and take your mind off of it for-"

"For the last time, Will. No! Not now," Lucas says, turning away just in time to miss the boy's shoulders slump. He back to Mike, releasing a heavy sigh. "You didn't do anything, Mike. That's my whole point. You're the victim here."

El's eyes fall back to Mike, not all sure about what she was feeling.

"I know," he cries out. "It's just, why is she treating me this way?"

"Mike-"

"I don't know." Frustrated, he shakes his head. "What did I do wrong? What did I do wrong?!"

"Mike, stop it!" Will has to yell to be heard, but his friends eventually turn their attention his way. "you know what you did wrong!"

They watch him carefully, as does El.

Just grateful to have their attention, he softens just a notch "You messed up, alright? But there's just not much you can do right now,"

"He's right," Lucas sighs, bending over to move Mike's feet out of to make room before taking a seat. "I mean, we told the truth and everything,"

Will let out a bitter laugh. "No, you didn't! You got caught! You told them you were shopping for them, but that's it. You still kept lying about your Nana,"

Max and Y/n watch El carefully, the only indication something had happened came from her angered sigh.

"They lied about Nana," she says finally.

"Oh, I knew it," Max hissed.

Y/n merely placed her forehead in her hands tiredly as she waited for more information.

"But we still tried! That's gotta count for something," Mike cries, stuffing more food into his mouth. "I mean, shouldn't that count for something?"

"Mike, relax. Just... relax," Lucas sighs into his hands yet again, clearly exasperated. "And stop asking rational questions."

"I know, I know. You're right," Mike sighs. His expression quickly turned bitter as he sent his friends a sour look. "Because women act on emotion and not logic,"

"Precisely," Lucas nods. "It's a totally different species."

El's breathing grows deeper and for a moment the pair of friends fear the worst. But the truth was, while El didn't quite exactly know what they were saying, she knew it was foul.

"They say we are 'species'."

-"What?"

-"Come again?"

"'Emotion, not logic."

-"What?"

-"Come again?"

Will shifted on his feet, looking unsure as to what to say, or if he should at all.

"Will is upset,"

Y/n scoffs, looking between Max and El. "He should be if they're saying that shit." She fires, worry briefly taking over her anger over the doubtful thought seeded in her mind. Quickly she leaned forward.

"Wait, he wasn't saying that was he?"

Relief sweep over her when El shakes her head.

She finds her eyes on him again, looking as if he was trying too hard to fit in and not say the wrong thing. El hadn't known him for terribly long, but she knew enough to realize this shouldn't be normal.

"Guys," he says, his eyes darting to the small table he had been setting up. "Come on, it's ready. You already said you'd play a month ago when Dustin got back. I've been planning ever since! And I really think it'll help take your mind off of all this."

Lucas groans.

"Will! We already told you. Not right now," he shakes his head as if scolding a small child.

"They are upset with him."

"Why?" Y/n pressed, sharing an equally concerned look with Max.

"They broke up with you, what else is there to talk about?"

"Easy for you to say, you still have a girlfriend!" Mike throws back.

"'Easy for Will to say,'" El repeats.

Y/n could only imagine what they were putting Will through right now. Or just what her words could mean. Her guilt from having to cancel weighed heavier and heavier.

"He says..."

They all watch, El included, as all his frustrations boil over.

"Well, none of that matters now, does it?!"

Shocked at his outburst, Lucas and Mike break into matching, sour grins nevertheless.

"Then join us, Will," Mike says, sharing a smirk with Lucas. "Join us in trying to figure the greatest mystery of all; the female species!"

"What? What's he saying?" Y/n asked.

But she receives no answer. El had fallen quiet.

El cocks her head, her glare thrown to each boy like daggers, feeling an anger of her own. As well as a protectiveness.

That didn't last long, however. Not moments after, Mike seemed to be challenging his own foul behavior. His mouth opened up wide, letting loose a deep and billowing belch.

"Dude," Mike laughed lazily, gesturing around him as he grinned up at his friends. "You can smell the nacho cheese,"

El recoiled, her upper lip hooking in a grimace both in and out of the void.

She's relieved to see even one of them disgusted by his antics — Will, but it doesn't change her annoyance. But it was better, and far less confusing than Lucas who broke out in a sly grin.

"I get that beat,"

"What?" Mike mumbles in between picking his teeth with his tongue.

Baffled, El looks to Will again whose face pales. He quickly shakes his head, his words pleading.

"Oh, no."

"No, Lucas," Mike says, jumping in. "No!"

El watches curiously as Lucas's grin stretches wider — "No, Lucas!" — and he lifts his right leg — "Lucas! LUCAS!" — and...

El stumbles back in shock when the sound hits suddenly. It echoed louder than the burp had — far louder — and only grows louder as Lucas lifts his leg higher.

El rips the headband off her head to reveal her widened eyes, her shoulders moving and falling in a panicked-like state.

Never blinking, her mouth still wrenched open in shock, she turns to gape at her friends.

"What happened?"

She didn't answer.

"Are you okay?" Y/n pressed, fearing the worst.

She breaks out in a grin, a fit of sudden giggles sent her slouching into the carpet and her head landing in Y/n's lap. Max and Y/n welcomed her reaction with open arms, her infectious laughter spreading to them despite the utter bewilderment they were feeling. Y/n looked down at her friend, trying not to laugh.

El managed to peel her eyes open long enough to see Y/n's crooked smile poking into her view of the ceiling and she loses it all over again.

"What?" She laughs.

"What happened?"

El clutched her aching sides. Every time she tried to speak, the silliness of it all stole her words all over again.

It had been completely revolting and

angering. But it was also the most fun she'd ever had in that horrible place. This also being why it was so hard to wipe the smile from her face.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Will stumbled back as far away as possible from the massive stink cloud he was sure would drown him. Mike had stumbled off the couch, waving at the air as Will buried his nose in his shirt.

"Oh, man," Mike groans. "what the hell, Lucas?"

"Come on, that was impressive,"

"So was Will," Mike shoots him a knowing smirk. "Finally realizing the frustrations of the female species,"

"That wasn't what I said," he shakes his head, growing angrier by the second. "I said it doesn't matter if I have a girlfriend or not right now cause I can't see her! Both of us have to clean up your messes and it's the same reason why we missed our six month anniversary last month,"

Both Mike and Lucas wince. "Congrats?"

Will sighs, throwing himself in his seat at the D&D table.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The cabin's front door was nearly thrown off its hinges as an inebriated Hopper stumbled across the threshold. The door slammed shut behind him, shaking the room as he huffed and puffed. Several times he nearly lost his balance just standing still, but despite the blurred vision and numbed senses he could still make out the muffled radio from his daughter's room.

That wasn't good. At least, that's all Hopper could comprehend right away before he pieced together why; that always meant Mike was here.

And the door was shut.

"Hey!" No response. "Hey!"

The ache of rejection and embarrassment he had been feeling all night had been drowned in bottles of wine from Enzo's, numbing a great deal when Joyce had failed to show. But it couldn't quite extinguish his anger, and that was all that was left now. And he had no problem channeling that into this moment.

In his drunken state, he manages to march across the living room without stumbling into anything and his voice rises behind his gritted teeth.

"When I say three inches, three-"

A small yelp and a short burst of hot hair stinging his sweating skin and knocking over the lamp on the desk was the first thing he registered after the boom of the door being busted open. Before him, was the sight of El and her friends lounging across her floor, flipping through magazines and gawking up at him.

He realized then what had happened judging by Y/n drawing in a deep breath, and dropping her head into her hands. She had clearly been especially startled being so close to the door and had inadvertently created a mini shockwave that swept across every loose item in the room. He could hear her cursing into her hands as Max glared up at him.

"Do you knock?! Jeez!"

"Yeah!" El repeated. "Jeez!"

At that moment, Hopper couldn't remember a time he had back-pedaled so quickly. He could hear his slurred words stringing together a nervous apology.

"Wo-wo-oh, hey," he gulps. "I'm sorry."

The three girls continue to gawk up at him from the floor.

"I thought that, uh-,"

"If you were expecting Mike, he isn't here," Y/n said.

"We wanted to have a sleepover," El says, still beyond excited at the thought of having one since Y/n told her about them almost a year ago. "Is that...okay?"

"Yeah,"

The word fell out of Hopper's mouth before he could will it, his entire demeanor melting away in relief.

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah," he said, his voice going higher than normal as he stumbled through the tension. "Your parents know you guys are here?"

"Yup," Max says, and Y/n nods.

Blazing through the past few moments, or at least attempting to, Hopper waves his arm dismissively and his slurring intensifies.

"Uh, yeah, it's cool. Yeah. That's-That's really cool."

This was great! His "heart-to-heart" had worked. At least the way he did it. He couldn't count on his hands the number of times he had asked El about the others; silently hoping she'd take the hint and get him out of long, awkward discussion. But she never had, she only went on about Mike, and the more the summer stretched on the less he heard about Y/n or—

"Did you need something?" Max asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He hadn't realized he had been just standing there, swaying slightly and zoning out.

He was overstepping. He could see that now. And not just because of the embarrassment written all over his daughter's face.

"No, no," he says quickly, shaking his head and making a lazy grab for the doorknob. "Uh, I'll leave. I'll just let you... I'll leave you..."

His voice trails off before being swallowed completely when the door shuts with a click. For a moment, Hopper just stands there processing it all.

A smirk hooked his lips.

No Mike.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

chin fucking up, amigo.

Titans 3.02

... eh?

SPOILERS ahead.

1. you know that music video for billie jean where michael jackson would dance along the pavement and the tiles would light up under his feet in different colours? yeah? me too.

titans hasn’t met a table top or a support arch that it doesn’t want to light up in a headache-inducing blue like the world’s most boring nightlight. i mean, i’m not an expert on lighting or cinematography or just... colour by any means, and the quality of the video i’m watching is poor given that i can’t access hbo max, but all the orange and teal and neon is making it very difficult to really differentiate between say, the batcave and the gotham police department and hell, the titans tower. i feel like there’s oftentimes a gap between idea and execution with titans, with gotham being this almost otherwordly hellscape with an aesthetic pulled from a gothic horror novel, but the colours and design just... leave it flat and dark and dull.

1.5. like what really frustrates me is that titans has a delightful mix of tones--the fights often remind me of schumacher-era batman camp, with the contrived quips and the start-stop rhythm and krypto just sallying in and ending the fight with a fucking SuperBark (tm) but in the same episode you have red hood just casually pulling out severed heads out of a duffle bag and desperate people blackmailed into killing themselves out of drug overdoses. I MEAN. it’s wonderful! but it looks all the same. it sounds Absolutely Bonkers on paper but on screen both Quip and Murder happen in the same washed-out blue and i wanted to be excited about the batcave, dammit!

2. things re: red hood have happened at such a breakneck speed that it feels like there’s so much that’s happened off-screen that we’re not privy to. a real proper mystery! 

things that are intriguing about the red hood arc so far:

a) what was that chemical he huffed just before going to fight the joker? is it a regular old performance/adrenaline booster or is it something more lazarus-juice adjacent? if it’s the latter, i can’t imagine he got that much information from a lone chemistry textbook. and where is he getting the resources to set up his little chemistry lab? is somebody else orchestrating things behind the scenes?

b) the red hood persona, costume and mask, plus the elaborate plan he’s putting in place to both string along gotham’s rogues and enact his revenge against the titans seems too... fully-formed and elaborate to have been concocted in just a few days. how long do you think jason’s been planning this? just... stewing in resentment and building rage, dismissed and passed around and underestimated and realising that the power he thought he would get by being robin is no power, no protection at all, but something that’s left him even more vulnerable than before? 

c) do we think that the scarecrow is at least partly behind this transformation? because yes, it was batman that set up this whole hannibal lecter-esque situation with him, and he would be irresponsible enough to have jason-as-robin go talk to him regularly regarding “~profiling~” criminals. it’s not too far of a leap to assume that scarecrow could’ve been manipulating jason at a very vulnerable time, and that he could’ve passed along some of his chemistry know-how, too.

d) ... or fuck, i wouldn’t put it past titans to introduce ra’s al ghul in a fucking ten second aside

e) anyway, the thing that won’t leave me alone is jason seeking out the joker not necessarily to fight him, but to orchestrate his own death. the whole thing has to have been part of a bigger plan. he broke batman with it, after all. and he’s starting to break the titans, too.

f) i love it! i mean, it does re-tread some of the storybeats we had with deathstroke last season (turning the titans against each other as revenge, etc) but it’s... tighter, this time, and at least for now seems better-executed. and as a red hood story it’s different enough to be really interesting, and i appreciate the ways in which its reframed the revenge story to focus on the titans rather than just the batman. like fuck everything up, i say! turn it on its head! slash the innards out of that sacred cow and strew it like garlands in the path of the Story You Want To Tell!

(and yes i am fully aware that by the time i post this review, there will be a whole lot more information out but if i come across like a fool then goddammit i will be a fool!)

2. i love how every season of titans starts off with, ‘oh dick, you thought you were settling into a role and a life and a pattern of relationships? well fuck you, here’s a terrible and traumatic thing, tons more responsibility, and circumstances that will lead you to uproot your entire life and move somewhere else.’ and dick’s just like, ‘well, ok. fuck you, but all right’.

can you imagine? the man was just settling into leading a team in sf and smiling for the first time in years, and now he has to deal with jason’s death, bruce experiencing a full fledged breakdown, coming back to a city that represents more bad memories than good, red hood, and a frightening new case that seems to be targeting him and his team. it’s a testament to dick’s growth that he’s not reacting to this stress like he did last year, shutting everybody out, making irrational decisions and experiencing sharp, short bursts of anger. (not to mention a full fledged psychotic episode.)

2.5. but i’ve also talked about dick performing a fair amount of unwarranted emotional labour for his team(s) in that he just lets them take out their frustrations on him and... does nothing. be it his team exploding at him for jericho (both in flashback and present-day) or donna and hank needling him for handling deathstroke poorly or barbara berating him for not handling the bank situation as well as she thought batman would though just the previous episode she had talked about how fucked up it was that bruce just expected dick to step up and replace him in gotham without any real notice. i mean it’s all perfectly understandable and sympathetic from their end--and i’m not trying to bash them here!--but hank, my man, the same chin you’re asking your amigo to keep up is the one that you punched last year and never apologised for. just sayin’.

2.75. @superohclair did a wonderful breakdown of what the ‘fear’ contract could imply here and there’s not too much i could add to that. it’s just really interesting that fear ended up being such a defining feature of their lives, albeit it’s the fear of seeming less than invincible in the face of bigger, more tangible fears. am i making sense?  dick feared loss, and abandonment, and the more existential concept of turning into something that he didn’t want to. bruce so feared being alone that he’s scouting kids to replace robin within days of jason dying. 

it also goes some way in explaining the tense sort of... restraint that bruce and dick show in the wake of loss and tragedy, like anything less than complete control of your emotions can lead to tragedy. it’s conditioning that dick couldn’t shake off when he was at his lowest in detroit, hating his legacy but unable to let it go either.

2.775. but i definitely appreciate the softness that dick displays with his team now, checking on them after a mission-gone-bad, welcoming back old members with no caveats or resentments (and kory’s delight in seeing hank back! hank and dick hanging out together and hank trying to prop dick up!), and appreciating their teamwork in solving cases. that’s always been the essence of dick as a person, and the beating heart of this show: flawed and traumatised people coming together to a place that will always be open to them, where they can be their worst and be supported still, allowed to make mistakes and grow from them. that’s family.

2.8. coming back to bruce for just a sec, it’s interesting how that gotham rogue was so certain when he said that ‘batman doesn’t kill’ but it’s not a rule that either jason or dick put much store by when they were robins. the ‘no-killing’ rule clearly didn’t mitigate dick’s fears about turning into batman and jason’s never been seeing giving two shits about it. it seems to me of a piece with bruce’s distant, second-hand sort of parenting that we see in dick’s flashbacks from s1 where the fear was never about personally disappointing batman, but taking lessons from him on finding a place in gotham’s hellish ecosystem and surviving.

3. kory having waking flashbacks! i don’t buy the bullshit parasomnia episode explanation from fake!HPG (because c’mon, justin has to be some sort of tamaranean ruse) because for one, you have to be actually asleep for that diagnosis. 

(and here i was, hoping against hope that HPG would actually end up as the team’s therapist)

curiouser and curiouser! i wonder if these flashbacks are from the time between kory landing on earth and the beginning of season 1, when she was completely amnesiac? it’d be cool if the show was considering repercussions from that time, and if kory hasn’t gained all her memories back. 

4. i just love the vibes between gar and conner and kory. gar Having Things To Do is only one part of my wishlist for him, however: other parts include having an actual story arc, and actually bonding with members who are not conner and kory. (dick! dick! hank! dick!)

anyway. time to move on to watching ep3 and seeing this family bond and nothing terrible and tragic happening at all, nope, nosiree. 

[jauneda1]

RWBY

The New War part 4

Jaune Arc's All Out Attack

Just outside of Shinrah district.

Jaune and Ren had to start traveling by rooftops because of the miasma that is covering most of the streets due to this though Jaune is getting exhausted from all the Aura Jumping. It wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't caring Ren doing so.

Jaune: Talking about me and junk food but your heavy asf.

Ren: Jaune! I don't want to here anything about you being tired from carrying me across rooftops.

Ren: You not only suggested this method, but aren't you the one that caught a speeding car with your body.

Ren: That Torchwick guy escaped but you did something unbelievable.

Jaune: I was in the hospital for a week for three cracked ribs. Not to mention it knocked me unconscious.

Ren: Even more of a reason for you to not be bitching rn.

Jaune: I think I like this Ren get used to me.

The two took cover at the top of they're current building then observed the captured cop and EMS workers. They could hear a man who was obviously a squad leader sporting heavy armor and two large saw swords.

Atlas Elite Oppressor: It's honorable seeing so many of you fighting to protect your kingdom. How come there are no soldier's only law enforcement?

Atlas Elite: I'll tell you why, it's because Ozpin didn't think they where worth sending into the city. That they needed to protect the academy.

Atlas Elite: So in other words your all expendable.

Police officer: Shut your mouth you fucking Terrorist.

Atlas Elite: Terrorist!? Lol where Atlas solider's.

Alvin Marcus: Listen son in all my years alive Atlas would never do something like this. My name is police chief Alvin Marcus.

Alvin: Ironwood would never order an attack against his home kingdom.

Atlas Elite: Well you know what Alvin thank you for having the balls to speak up... Now... Die for it.

And with a lift and a swing the man's head was taken off.

Jaune was finally at his boiling point as he was about to make a split second decision till he felt Rena hand grab his own. Jaune turned and looked Ren in the eyes who had a face seriousness. There was a mutual understanding between the two but Jaune knew if someone else died then he would step in. They both continue to watch on.

Atlas Elite: Well then... He's dead... So who's next?

Atlas Elite: Let's see they're are 40 of you we'll start executing you guys in groups of 10.

Atlas Elite: Okay men begin. Try not to have to much fun.

It was just like that the men and women where gonna be shot and killed. Police officer's and EMS workers who most had families. Jaune couldn't take it anymore so he jumped into action.

Ren: JAUNE!

Jaune: Bastards landed and swung his blade at one of the soldiers and as like nothing the man flew back with a huge slash in his chest and his eyes lifeless. Jaune didn't take it into consideration but the man he just killed didn't have an aura. Which means that most of these guys will go down easily.

(Jaune's mind)

" Is it really a good thing that it's that easy. "

"Ricky: Do what you have to Jaune, to protect the people around you and care about."

The Atlas Elite was surprised to see the young man cut down one of his men so easily. It turned out that's all it took for the police officer's to fight back as now a big battle of attrition had began. So the Elite did the only thing he thought was right and that was to take out this young man. He could already tell that his target was a killer at heart. That Mistress would love for someone like this to join her ranks. No hesitation just calculated swings and focused blocking. He is block bullets and using his aura to defend himself from and oppressor troopers. Now there's a green one huh interesting

Jaune had just took what felt like a hit from Cardin's mace to the side of the head but it was just a shotgun buckshot. He then stuck his blade into the guys knee rotating his wrist and and realizing something this felt odd killing these guys so easily. Whatever he needs to do he'll do it to protect these people. All of a sudden Jaune's senses struck him both physically and mentally as he was then sent five feet and bouncing off the side of a car.

Ren: JAUNE!

Jaune could hear Ren yelling out to him. He was fine he was able to lift his shield up to take the wide and aggressive swing he had very little time to react as he used his sword to slide and redirect a blade that was slashed vertically at him. Jaune then spun out of it and backhanded the attacker with his shield. The difference was that this tall bulky guy with duel wielding saw blades that are atleast half of Jaune's size. Jaune was at 6'3 so these swords where ridiculously big. Obviously this guy over compensating. Shit why did the commander have to be a tall and bulky hulk of a man, why couldn't he just of been cute like Ren.

Then it was a saving grace as A helicopter with Vale soldiers showed up and began to fire upon the enemy this made the guy end his attacks on Jaune and begin to fall back but Jaune wasn't having it as he chased him leaving Ren behind.

Jaune: Oh No You Don't Ass Hole Get Back Here!

One of the retreating soldiers was about to fire on Jaune till Ren pulled the trigger on one of his pistols and blew the guys brains out. Ren was not as shocked as he should of been. He wasn't about to let Jaune get killed so he chased after him as Vale military forces moved in.

Jaune had cornered the man. Then aimed his sword at the man.

Jaune: You'll pay for what you've done. Killing all of those innocent people.

Atlas Elite: Laughing... You got fight in ya kid.

The two stood there reading to see who would swing first. But neither one had to wait as the man rushed at Jaune only for Jaune to smirk as his chest glowed bright blue over his heart and without any warning Jaune sheathe his blade and went to punch the ground with his left hand all of the energy he had built up. This new attack Jaune was saving for whenever him and Yang spared again let alone it be Pyrrha.

Jaune: BAHAMET..FURY

With a mighty roar and loud kaboom that sent out a bright blue blaze that can be seen from Beacon Tower. This stunned Ozpin and Glynda who knew who that could of been. Especially since a news chopper caught the attack live. For the world too see, so teams RWBY, CFVY, Nora and Pyrrha saw it.

Ruby: Well guess we know who that would of been for if we had Combat class on yesterday.

All Jokes aside the chopper was waiting for the dust to clear. When it finally did Jaune was now Shirtless and sporting a big gash on his right arm it looks like the guy broke his Aura. Something that everyone at Beacon knew was next to impossible because Jaune is undefeated when it came to combat class. If one doesn't count the draw between him and Pyrrha. The two fought it out until they both fell from exhaustion. But what was about happen now was not a spar where it's fight till your at your max. No this fight was of a higher stake, Jaune's life was on the line.

The man got up and used his blade's to support himself.

The Butcher: Your... One pain in the ass you know that?

The Butcher: They call me The Butcher. That's my name now what's yours?

Jaune stayed quiet for a second because he was honestly still shocked that some one took the full brunt of his shock wave ground smash.

Jaune: Jaune Arc... No relation

The Butcher: A Arc huh? You truly are special.

Without a second passing The Butcher rushed in and Jaune eyes tightened as his vision focused and his mindset locked in. This battle will result in one of them dying. Jaune was able to deflect the The Butcher's swing but his wild style was new to Jaune so he wasn't expecting the second blade to come out of no where and slash his right arm and knocking his blade away leaving another gash if torn flesh and on the underside of Jaune's arm. This was bad he wouldn't be able to put a lot of power behind any punches on this arm. But that was okay Jaune knew what he would have to resort to Jaune then burst forward. Eyes lacking fear but a resolve he slide in grabbing The Butcher by his waist and just like that Ursa in class Jaune German suplexed him, again rolling into it and lifting the man again but this time keeping a two arm bear hug and slammed the guy on his shoulders sideways. Again Jaune rolled into it and lifted the man up and with his feet planted and with raw strength and pure adrenaline running through him Jaune threw the disarmed Butcher into the side of a building where he collided and bounced off of. Jaune was gassed after that display by no means was Butcher a light weight at 8feet tall and weight what felt like a ton it was hard to do what Jaune did. He may have caught a car at top speed but he hadn't been through hell before it. It just happened when he was at full strength.

Jaune felt the hands of someone familiar to him grab him. Ren had grab Jaune and gave him a shot of Adrenaline Ren looked like shit like he had got caught in Jaune's explosion.

Jaune: Dame Ren I'm sorry-

Ren had shut him up with a painful shot of adrenaline to the to the leg.

Jaune: Ow... Sorry .

Ren: You will be if we make it out of this.

Ren: I don't have any aura and my weapons are destroyed thanks to you. But that guy needs to go down.

Jaune: You thinking what I'm thinking then😁.

Ren blushing of embarrassment: Shut up

Jaune: Aww yeah Martial Arc's time.

Ren: ugh

The two ran in at the butcher who had recovered and was not ready to fight a juiced up Jaune and what looks like the ninja from earlier. But what surprised The Butcher more was the Ninja had just vanished and Jaune Arc looked to be throwing something invisible. It didn't click until he felt what was a foot to his jaw and a right hook to his rib cage one so powerful he felt his ribs crunch and shatter with it this dropped him to one knew then a barrage of calculated punches from the ninja and bone breaking bashes from Jaune. When the barrage ceased The Butcher was dumb founded the one eye he could see out off. He saw that Jaune was now casting a bright blue flaming aura and with one touch he turned the emerald ninja next to him glowing a bright green flaming aura as well.

The two locked eyes with The Butcher who was now expressing great fear.

Ren: When did you learn how to do this?

Jaune: I'll tell you later.

The two then lead in like a dance of blue and green as they both went in for punches kicks and one of Jaune's kicked sending The Butcher skyward. Ren Jumped into Jaune's hands and launched forward to meet The Butcher he super kicked him and without any warning Ren felt a burst of power as he flew forward looking back in slow motion to see Jaune winking at him and his chest burning bright blue. That's when Ren realized that Jaune had found a way not only to convert kinetic energy into aura, but he can transfer it to other's. Ren flew forward grabbing The Butcher and throwing him down towards Jaune who had jumped towards The Butcher who was beaten and bloody.

Ren: Jaune please don't kill him.

(Jaune's Mind)

No worries Ren I refused to be the monster that this man is. I will put him in his fucking place though.

Jaune: HAA!

With a discharge of all the energy Jaune knocked The lights out of The Butcher. His head snapping back from the impact but not killing him but mainly knocking him out.

Jaune landed and caught the Butcher to keep him from receiving anymore damage.

Five minutes later

Jaune came back sword in his sheathe, even though it took him a minute to find it. Ren was just standing there back towards Jaune. Jaune walked up and lightly pushed Ren's shoulder.

Jaune: From what I see the military is rounding up the last remaining terrorist and Atlas only General Ironwood is talking with Ozpin that's why there are war ships up above.

Ren: He shows up only now?

Jaune: Yeah but atleast it's over right.

Ren: Hey did you ever actually turn your scrolls distress signal?

Jaune: Yeah about that... Hehe I dropped my scroll when I rushed in to stop those guys earlier. Hehe

Ren: I want to punch you right now but I'm to weak to put any force behind it.

Then something grabbed the two's attention

Nora: Ren! Jaune!

They both turned to see they're teams and Professor Ozpin and Glynda.

But Jaune knew he was in trouble when he saw Yang and Ruby rushed him. Jaune knew he was about to receive the world's strongest hug and beating courtesy of Yang he has ever taken.

(Jaune's mind)

"I die today, this is how I die."

End of part 4

Character analysis

The Butcher: age late thirties maybe early twenties.

Classification: Classified

Huntsman classification: Unknown possibly Vanguard giving his size, weapons, and fighting style

Military experience: Ex Sargent first class.

Semblance: None

[yikesharringrove]

So I have this theory that Steve and billy would take a long time to get to each other. They both have so much damage. They know they would be amazing but they also know they aren’t ready yet. So they go with their separate ways. They grow up, they get better. 10 years later they are both back home for a wedding (let’s say Dustin/Erica because I personally think they would be awesome. She would run his life and he would thank her for it) And S/B realize they are ready now. The timing is perfect

Read on Ao3.

“It looks good, buddy.”

Steve was sitting bored in the leather armchair. His hand was propping his chin as he stared at Dustin. He had tried out 18 suits and Steve was tired.

“I don’t know, Steve. I don’t think I like the blue.” It was his sixth navy suit. Steve wanted to bash his head in.

“I still maintain I like the first one.” Dustin took another look in the mirror before nodding.

“I’ll put the first one back on.” Steve groaned at the ceiling.

Steve was Dustin’s Best Man. They had kept in close contact even as Steve moved to Chicago, worked entry-level jobs until he went to college, studied, and became a special education teacher.

Dustin had recently graduated from MIT, was living in Indianapolis with Erica. He worked at an engineering lab, was designing already. Steve was very proud. The past few months he had driven to Indy every Friday and staying through the weekend, helping him with plans, the registry, and addressing invitations. He nearly shit when he wrote Billy Hargrove’s name and address.

“Okay, I think this is the one.” Dustin was back in the first one. Steve wanted to hit his head against the wall until he fucking died.

  “Okay, so we’ve got me and your mom, and the Sinclairs, and Marnie, and Robin at Table 1. Table 2 is El and Mike and Will and Seth and Reggie and Max and Angie and Lucas, which, shouldn’t he sit at table one? Family and that. Table 3 is Nancy and Jonathan and Mrs. Byers and Hopper and-” Steve choked on the next name. “Billy? Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?” Dustin looked up from the huge board they had been using to make the seating chart.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. You know he’s the love of my fucking life.” Steve was gawking at Dustin who rolled his eyes.

"He's not. You've just been gross and hung up on him for ten years, Steve. That's lame."

"We could've had something! We were getting close and I kept-"

"You were getting closer and you kept feeling electricity and then he died and then he was fine and then he ran away to California I know, Steve." Steve felt his face heat up He looked back at the seating chart. "Stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting." He was totally pouting. "It's just, I haven't seen him in ten years. It's gonna be, what if he's moved on."

"He's not bringing a plus one."

"Maybe they couldn't come." Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Just fucking talk to him when you see him. Don't know why it has to be such a big deal."

"I can't talk to him, Dustin. what would I say?"

"Start with hi, Billy. And just see where it takes you."

"I just, it's been a while since I've dated and-"

"But it's time you moved on from Taylor. I told you that guys was bad news, and lo and fucking behold, he ends up sucking." Steve shifted uncomfortably. That relationship had ended over three years ago, ended with Steve spending two months on Robin's couch. He was still in therapy over it. 

"Yeah, I know." Steve was talking to his arms, folding tightly over his chest.

"Buddy, I'm not trying to be an ass. Just saying. You're doing much better after that. And Max says Billy's really good. That he's got his life on track and is happy."

"Then he probably has someone. And he might not even be into guys!"

"Okay, then get over your lame self, and be his friend." Steve huffed. "But whatever you do, just help me finish this fucking seating chart."

Steve was fucking running.

He had been in charge of the rings, and he had, misplaced them.

Because of course he fucking did. Of course, he held onto them for weeks only to lose them on the day.

He was sweating through his white shirt in the Hawkins heat. Running from room to room in the upstairs of the old house. His parents kept the Hawkins house, just in case they were ever passing through. Steve doesn't think they've spent more than three hours in it since he was nineteen, but it gave him a free place to crash whenever he was in town.

He was tearing through rooms, anywhere he could've been these past few hours. He knows he had the rings when he put on his shirt, had them in his pocket when he realized he needed cufflinks.

He flew downstairs, rummaging through the drawer in his father's side of the bathroom, finding the rings exactly where he had stolen the cufflinks from. They were thin, gold bands. Erica's had a small diamond set into it. They were engraved on the inside, quotes for Star Wars, Dustin's holding Princess Leia's I love you, Erica's with Han Solo's I know. Steve had made fun of them endlessly when he had picked them up from the jeweler's.

"Steve, you're a fucking idiot and also a genius." He scrambled to his car, driving well over the speed limit to the venue, a historic house in the old part of Hawkins. It was grand and beautiful and much cooler than the summer air outside. Steve was so focused on delivering the rings he didn't notice the Camaro sitting out front, still in its pristine condition. He opened doors at random, getting screamed at by Erica's Maid of Honor, Marnie, when he burst into the wrong room. Marnie fucking hated Steve, and he didn't really know why. Apparently it had something to do with the engagement party. But, he got blackout fucking drunk at that thing, so he had no idea what she was so pissed about.

Well, now she was quite obviously pissed that he had slammed open the door to find her and Erica in robes, getting their makeup done. She threw a shoe at his head.

He was fucking sprinting down a hallway when he crashed right into a fucking wall, solid and steady. He was knocked back on his ass,

"Oh shit, sorry!" He looked up, finding Billy Hargrove staring down at him. "Steve fucking Harrington. As I live and breathe." Billy's hair was long, was wild and big. He was wearing a well-fitting suit, looked thick and muscled, more than he had in high school. Steve's mouth went fucking dry. Billy had his shirt unbuttoned to the bottom of his sternum, showing off a large chest piece, gorgeous flowers weaving around and through the scar on his chest. Steve could see it was healed, but still raised, pink and shiny in a few areas, the skin pulled and puckered where Billy had been stitched back together.

Billy extended a hand, a scarred tattooed hand, and heaved Steve off the floor.

"Hi, Billy." Billy grinned at him. It was softer than he remembered. "You look good."

"You seen yourself? You're still as pretty as I remember." Steve fucking giggled like a fucking schoolgirl. He had let his hair grow out some since high school. Some of the kids liked his long hair.

"What have you, what have you been up to?" Steve was overly aware of his arms. Was trying to find a way to hold himself that didn't look stupid.

"You know, California. USed my government hush money to go to culinary school. I'm a sous-chef now at a restaurant in L.A."

"Oh, wow. Congratulations. You've really, you've come a long way. You look, happy." Steve flushed a little more.

"What are you doin', Pretty Boy?" Steve's heart tripped over itself at the old nickname.

"I'm in Chicago, now. I teach special education at an elementary school. I'm actually, I'm in line to become head of the department when the current one, when she retires." Billy's eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile.

"That's so perfect for you. What made you choose special ed?"

"I went to college and learned I'm dyslexic." Billy barked a laugh, one Steve had never heard before, a fucking real one.

"You didn't know? I could've told you that!"

"I mean, I just thought I was fucking stupid, but once I learned what the problem was, the university gave me some resources to help. I was actually in the nursing program, but I kept thinking about how the university helped me so much, that getting a real diagnosis was fucking life-changing, not only for school, but just in the way I thought about myself. I don't want kids to grow up like I did, convinced that their literal disability is just, just stupidity." Steve met Billy's eyes, saw them glow with fondness.

"I'm so happy for you, Steve. I'm so proud you found such an amazing calling, you seem like you've come such a long way." Billy squeezed his upper arm, made Steve melt.

"Thank you, that, that really means a lot to m-"

"Steve! I have been looking for you for hours. Where have you been, Asshole?" Dustin was stomping down the hall

"Doesn't matter. I'm here, I've got the rings, I'm ready to go."

"Did you not have the rings?" Dustin looked like he was going to explode.

"I have them! See!" Steve pulled them out of his pocket, clinking them together. "All engraved with your nerd shit and ready." Billy was watching them, an amused look on his face.

"You are a nightmare and the worst best man in the history of-"

"Can you not be dramatic for one fucking da-"

"I'm allowed to be dramatic today, I'm getting marrie-"

"You're never allowed to be dramatic you little-"

"God, you two really are brothers. You fight like siblings." They both whipped to look at Billy, giving him the exact same pissed off-glare. Billy laughed at them.

"Look, I'll get outta y'all's hair." He clapped Steve on the shoulder. "It's good to see you, Stevie. Hope we can catch up more. Congrats, Dustin." He trotted down the hall. Dustin grinned at Steve.

"It's GOOD to see you, STEVIE. He's totally into you. It's exhausting being right all the time." Steve slapped his arm.

 The ceremony was short and sweet.

Steve stood behind Dustin, handed him a tissue when he got all misty, took one for himself when he began tearing up. He noticed Billy sitting a few rows back, noticed how his eyes were always on Steve whenever Steve's trailed over to him. He was smiling softly at him, even fucking winked at Steve, made him go red and look away. Robin noticed something off about him, noticed the way he was flushed, raised her eyebrow for her spot in the first row with Claudia. He shook his head.

The cocktail hour took place outside in the oppressive heat as the large ballroom was altered from ceremony set-up, to dinner and dancing. Steve was overseeing the transition, as Dustin was extremely specific, and someone needed to deal with it.

"You've been weird all day." Robin knocked her shoulder into his. "It finally catching up to you that one of your kids is married?"

"Mike and El have been married for like, years."

"Yeah, but Dustin is your baby." Steve rolled his eyes.

"It really doesn't bug me. I just, Billy's here. We like, talked earlier. And he kept, lookin' at me." She sighed.

"You know what I've always said about Billy. When he was coming into Scoops like, every day and being all flirty. But just, be careful he's been through a lot and, I just don't want the whole Taylor situation to happen again." He shuffled his feet.

"It won't. He seemed, happy. Like he was all bright and was, was laughing, and I've never heard him laugh like that." Her eyes were soft.

"Just be careful, Dingus."

 At dinner, Steve had to give his speech.

He was a wreck, had dropped his cards, and started fucking crying a couple different times. But he got laughs in all the right places, and Claudia had cried loudly so he was feeling pretty alright about it.

He had made a point not to look at Billy the whole time, couldn't fathom looking into his bright eyes as he talked. As dinner winded to a close, the bar opened, and the music began.

Dustin and Erica's first dance was so sweet, they had chosen At Last, the Etta James number that made Steve and Claudia tear up. Lucas took Erica out next, swapping with Mr. Sinclair as Claudia took Dustin.

And then the music devolved into upbeat dance numbers, kept everyone on their feet for hours.

Steve was taking a much-needed break. Nancy had worn him out during Rio, arguably the best Duran Duran dong to ever exist according to Steve.

"You're really tearing it up out there. Nice to see your taste hasn't changed at all." Billy was leaning against the bar, was nursing an amber-colored drink. Steve sipped his pink wine.

"I stand by Duran Duran." Billy laughed, leaning forward enough for Steve to feel his warmth.

"Your speech was nice."

"Thank you! I was so fucking nervous, you have no idea." It was easy talking to Billy. Felt like not a day had passed since they were sitting on the hood of Steve's car at the quarry together, throwing rocks into the water and passing a joint back and forth.

"I wanna know everything about from these past ten years." Steve took in a big breath.

"You pretty much know it all. Took me a good while to get my shit together and get through school, finding something I'm passionate about."

"But there has to be more. A lot can happen in ten years. You dating anyone?" Steve's heart lodged itself in his throat. He blinked down at his wine.

"Not right now. Last one was, uh, it really fucked me up." Billy's hand was so warm when he placed it on Steve's shoulder.

"I'm sorry I asked. You don't gotta explain." Steve blinked, shaking himself.

"Are you, are you with someone?" Billy chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair, through the wild curls Steve was obsessed with.

"Nah. Hard to find guys that don't get weirded out by the scars. I've got a whole lotta baggage."

"Sorry, guys?" Billy gave him an odd look.

"Yeah, Harrington. Guys. I'm gay. That a problem?" It was the closest Billy had looked to his old Hawkins self, puffing his chest up.

"No, that's not a problem. Just didn't know is all. I'm, uh, I'm bisexual." Billy's eyebrows shot up.

"No shit?"

"No shit." Billy smirked at him.

"You know I've always had a thing for you." Steve choked on his wine, coughing harshly as Billy laughed, thumping him on the back.

"Don't say that shit to me. I've had the biggest stupidest fucking crush on you since I was seventeen. That summer before everything when to shit, when we were, like, hanging out, I kept thinking something was gonna, was gonna happen." Billy's smile fell.

"I know. I'm sorry, Stevie. I just, I wasn't good back then. I was so fucking angry, about moving to Hawkins, and everything with my dad, and then getting possessed, I wouldn't've been good to you. And you deserve good, Stevie. You wouldn't have grown like you did if you were always trying to take care 'a me."

"Sometimes, the growing hurt, and I, I wish some of it hadn't have happened."

"I know how that feels, Pretty Boy. But the growing, sometimes it has to hurt. Everything that happened to me, everything with that thing, it made me who I am, and for the first time in my whole life, I really like who I am." Steve took a breath.

"You know, I never got the story from you. Why you actually moved to Hawkins. You'd say something different and ridiculous every time I asked." Billy looked down at his drink.

"My dad. He caught me with a boy in my room. He said, he told me living in the midwest would straighten me out. I think he thought either I play straight or I'd get hate crimed."

"I'm sorry, Bill." He smiled at him, just one side of his mouth ticking up.

"Honestly, Pretty Boy. Like I said, everything really happens for a reason. That's what I live by now, because all that horrible shit, it led me here, and I'm okay."

"Good for you, Bill. I really mean that. You've made such a great life for yourself." Billy pressed in closer to him, made Steve's breath catch.

"Thank you, Sweet Thing. That means a lot comin' from you." He leaned even further into Steve's space. "You wanna get outta here? I've got a nice hotel room." Steve felt warmth spread down his spine. He hooked a finger into one of Billy's belt loops.

"You know, I've always loved that car 'a yours. First time I saw you get out of it, kept thinking about getting fucked in that back seat." Billy groaned, his head falling onto Steve's shoulder.

"It's parked right outside." Steve leaned to Billy's ear.

"Race ya."

They ran, giggling like little kids all the way to Billy's vintage car. Billy fumbled with the keys, dropping them twice before Steve yanked open the door, diving in the back seat.

They were still giggling as they struggled outta their clothes, making out in between items. Steve flopped down once he was undressed, pulling Billy down on top of him, laughing as Billy knocked the wind out of him.

The giggles turned to moans when Billy latched onto his neck, sucking and biting. He finally put his hand in those curls, the other trailing down his back, ghosting over the scars there.

"I love all your tattoos. So gorgeous." Billy pressed kisses down his chest. He stopped at the large scar running from the inside of Steve's collarbone a few inches down his arm.

"What's this from?" Steve stiffened under him. He sat up, brushing some hair off of Steve's forehead.

"It's, it's from a surgery I had."

"What happened?" Steve pushed his hand away from the scar.

"Shattered my collarbone." Steve was sitting up, was tugging his pants back on.

"Shit, Stevie, I'm sorry. I won't, you don't have to talk about it." Steve huffed, flopping back into the seat.

"It's okay. It's just-" He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Billy tugged his own slacks back on. "The relationship I told you about. The last one I was in." BIlly's eyes went big. He took Steve's hand.

"Stevie, I'm sorry." Steve shook his head."How long were you two together?"

"A little over four years."

"Holy shit."

"I ended things over three years ago. Packed my shit and left when he was at work. Lived with Robin after that." He crossed his arms over his middle. "I should've known too. There were, there were so many red flags, but I didn't, I never really ever felt loved, and he told me that he loved me, and so I stayed. Through everything."

"Was he your first relationship since Nancy?"

"Like, full relationship. Once I moved to the city, I let myself go wild a little bit, fucked around with a lot of different people. I thought he was it for me, thought he was the one. We moved in together after about six months." Billy placed a hand on Steve's thigh.

"I'm sorry, Baby. I know how you feel. I know how painful it is to live like that."

"I know you do. And I'm, Robin and Dustin really helped me. They helped me find a support group for queer abuse survivors, and, and Robin drove me to therapies, and I'm so much better, but it's, especially the scar, it's a painful reminder." Billy leaned over, pressing a light kiss to the center of it.

"Stevie, I really like you. I'd like to do this properly. I want to take you on a date." Steve looked at him with wide eyes.

"You, really?"

"Yeah, Baby. Been gone on you since I was sixteen years old." Steve took Billy's face between each palm, kissed him softly, smiled into it, into how right it felt, these two broken boys, these two healed men finally finding one another again.

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 006

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Aftermath of the dance! We learned about the rest of Billy’s night. Both babies struggling before school starts up again. TW: Pica and self loathing. Mentions of guys pursuing underage girls. Taglist open!!!

Chapter 6: Hard Candy

   “Anyone up?”

   “No, everyone is hungover.” Evie looked around. Everything frosted this morning like a peaceful snow globe. Eternal winter. Gorgeous and destructive. She didn’t kiss Fredrick goodbye. “Thank you.”

   “We’ll talk again when school starts up. Don’t call, it’s too risky."

   "But-"

   "I’m just...risking everything to be with you, do you know that?”

   He snatched her wrist when he said that. Pressed down on the pulse there. It sped.

   “Yes...I’ll be careful. Do you still love me this morning?” Unsure of what answer would scare her more.

   He smiled, grip loosening.

   "Yes."

   That sufficed. Evie slid out in her dress from yesterday. Watched some dead leaves whirl through the forest before she got onto the sidewalk. Cherry Lane awaited. Bowers turned his car on to slip away unnoticed so she could walk to her house. Mona's car was gone which meant errands. 

   And whoever her mother brought home to celebrate the New Year with hadn’t stayed.

   Evie had the displeasure of running into a few at breakfast. These men who never lasted. Who froze like a deer in headlights to offer sheepish smiles as if she was stupid about why they were there. Who thought they'd be back. Ha ha. Thankfully, Mona mostly slept with guys not from Hawkins. 

   Billy’s Camaro was nowhere in sight either. Evie went into her house. Greeted Bourbon and crossed to the bedroom. The mess there replayed all of last night again. Dresses strewn all over her bed. Makeup spread on the vanity. 

   Evidence of a girl excited to have a great night. With a striking boy. Where she felt beautiful. She pictured herself holding dresses against her body at the mirror. Spinning. Happy.

   Wishes.

   Evie sucked in some air. Tied her hair back. Hung each dress up again. Pulled her own garment off and tossed it in the trash.

   “Maroon is stupid.” She mused in her bra and underwear. “You should have worn blue.” Sighing to sit at the vanity, fingers rubbed her eyes pink. She organized makeup. Tried and failed to avoid the reflection in the mirror.

   Her mother wouldn’t want to hear of this. So, Evie tried to look on the bright side. Pressed her palms flat. Looked at the mirror. 

   “I danced with a boy. A pretty boy and he made me feel…”

   Isn’t it funny? Pretty funny. The words caught. Piled up and went back down her throat. Perched like they could become a scream but never returned with a vengeance.

   She looked at her skin. Excess flesh. It didn't always bother her. Evie knew what she looked like and how the world preferred to see her.

   A fist banged into her collar. Growling, she beat at herself. Unable to stop. Weak little bashes against herself.

   “Why?" She clenched. "Why do you look like this!”

   Fists rubbed her eyes again raw so no tears could flow. Nothingness. Just her soul spinning out of control all sweet and silent. She always did the world and her mother that courtesy. No use crying over spilled milk, just appreciate what you have. Depression and anger, those were ungrateful little phases and pushing them aside was ingrained into her synapses.

   Mona made it look so easy.

   Evie knocked into the side table, sending her needle felting project to the floor.

   “Fuck.” Snatching items up, a sharp edge plucked her finger.

   Blood beaded against the skin. A single prick like Sleeping Beauty. Evie calmed at the grim sight. Brought the finger to her lips. Sucked.

   Slowly picked up everything else and saw a shiny button there. The same color as her dress from last night. Two fingers held it up so light could stream into the holes. Tiny heavens opening.

   Her mouth watered. She no longer heard the laughter. Fredrick’s heavy breathing in her ear. Her mother chided her to smile through pain. Take bitter life pills with a spoonful of sugar. More noise fluttered away. Thunder while she hid in a dark closet. A hand on her leg.

   Evie ran the big, acrylic button across her lip. Clicked it on her teeth and liked the sounds. Wind chimes in the fall glimmering.

   Hard candy.

   It slipped along her tongue. Shifted around saliva. Evie tipped her head back. Eased it down her throat as if it were another bitter pill.

   Why do this? Just to see if she could. To see what would happen. To silence all the chaos she choked down.

   Dead silence when it was done. Evie sat there tracing her lips with curious fingers. Pictured the pretty button decorating her insides. She could make art inside herself. Snapping her heart back together.

   The exact sensations drained.

   Tired and sore, Evie crawled under her bed covers. Decided to sleep and dream as deep as she could.

** ** **

   Billy’s night before wasn’t much better.

   “What the fuck?” He had blazed back into that shitty bar. Found Brock laughing around his friends and grasped his shirt. “You-”

   “Billy, I think you want to let me go, my dad has too much influence. He’s friends with your mayor, you know.” Brock had his hands up to wave his boys off. Billy growled low at him, inches away.

   “You think I give a shit that you’re rich?”

   “I”m just saying I can make shit difficult on your family. I’m sure your daddy won’t like that, I hear you guys make a lot of noise on Cherry Lane. Could make Fenny’s life harder too, if you care.”

   Billy’s grip loosened and Brock smiled. Tommy saw Billy's eyes change and hadn't even chuckled when the boy returned.

   “Aw, Hargrove’s gotta little crush. That’s cute.” More laughter. 

   That did it.

   A fist smashed into his cheek.

   Brock was sent flying back out of his chair at the same time Billy raced out. Didn't care to watch and enjoy the sight of that boy nearly doing a back flip.

   Money tore from his pocket and shoved into Bubble’s hand.

   “Take this.” Billy didn’t count how much he’d given her. Picking up the pace before Brock and his goons could pursue him. 

   “Billy!” Tommy had called after him, but the boy was out into the cold and headed toward his car.

   Evie was long gone. He still scanned the city in his Camaro trying to spot those brown curls and that maroon dress. Felt like an hour passed. She looked empty when she’d left.

   Billy almost wished she’d cried or hit him. Something. Anything.

   “Shit.” He pulled up to a little blonde waiting in the chill. Holding an oversized jacket close and craning to see down the street. “Hey, weren’t you Brock’s date?” Her face was pinched in discomfort. Shifting steps before she gave a nod. Seemed smaller there alone as drunks rushed about in celebration. “What are you doing?”

   “Mm...waiting for the taxi.” She had a paper towel pinched between her fingers, trying to get a wet stain out of her dress collar. Billy’s gut twisted because he knew what it was. 

   “Get in, I’ll drive you home.” Billy sat back and waited. Reluctantly, she crossed over to join him. Face splotchy like she might have teared up earlier. Pulling pins out of her hairstyle. Billy figured Brock must have ruined it getting his blowy.

   “Thank you.” 

   He revved to go in response after getting the address. Stony and intent on the road for once.

   “It’s this one.” Was all she said once they’d gotten close to her building. Run down and dilapidated. Reminded Billy of the shitty apartment complex he’d lived in with his dad after mom walked out.

   “How old are you?” Billy turned to see her and she cringed.

   “I’m...fourteen.”

   Fourteen. Barely a year older than Max. 

   And he’d only been fourteen when...

   Nausea swept up his throat. Billy hitched to breathe and dug into his pocket for whatever was left of the cash Brock gave him. Felt like a true piece of shit.

   “That guy, don’t go near him again. He asks you to come out or do things for him. Like sexual things... Don’t do it. Just stay away from him. Got it?” Billy reached out and dropped the wad of crumpled cash into her palms. “And don’t get into anymore cars with older boys. They’re gonna hurt you.”

   “You’re not gonna hurt me.”

   “No, kid, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Billy gestured. “Go inside, it's cold.”

   She listened, getting out to disappear into the building. Billy rubbed his eyes because they watered. Music turned up to drown the world out before he skidded off. Made it back into Hawkins and parked at Lover’s Lake.

   Decided sleeping in his Camaro was the better idea than going home. Not wanting to face Evie’s bedroom window or her old, scrutinizing cat. She wanted nothing to do with him.

   Reclined in the back seat, Billy touched his lips and fell into an uneasy rest.

   Woke with his head pounding and birds calling out. A truly grey day. He huffed to get out, pissed near a tree, and made it home to park in the driveway next to Neil’s car. Hadn’t left for work yet.

   A groan as Billy climbed the steps to go in, felt like he might vomit at the scent of a warm breakfast. Susan playing housewife. Setting plates at the table between Neil and Max.

   “Billy, are you hungry?” She caught him. Billy eyed his father reading the paper.

   “No.”

   “Come, sit down. Eat the nice breakfast Susan made.” Neil’s snap had Billy turning to plop down. He looked like hammered shit. Susan settled a plate of fluffy eggs and bacon down in front of him. Max was staring so Billy shot her a look to stop. “What do you say?”

   “Thank you, Susan.” Billy rasped, picking up a fork. 

   “What’d you do last night?” Neil asked without looking up from his paper.

   “Just some party.” A shrug followed. Susan had sat down with her own plate when the doorbell rang.

   “Answer that.” Neil pointed her off so she left her plate to get cold and went into the next room. Billy wondered if Susan's ever eaten a warm meal after getting with his dad.

   “Susan!” Mona’s chirpy voice piped up.

   Billy dropped a bit of eggs in his lap. Had Evie told her?

   “I’m so sorry to bug you early. Can I trouble you for a cup of flour? My poor Evie’s taken ill, I wanted to make her something nice for breakfast. Forgot to pick some up, I didn’t know we ran out. For pancakes. I’ll owe ya.”

   Billy’s eyes were darting all over the table.

   “No problem, come in.” Susan came back in with a measuring cup. “Sorry to hear about Evie.”

   “Just an upset stomach, a couple of my fluffiest pancakes should do the trick.” Mona had followed. “Morning all. Happy New Year. I hope Hawkins made good on the festivities.”

   Billy couldn’t look at her. Just shifted scrambled eggs around aimlessly.

   Neil peered at Mona’s tight clad legs in her little shift dress. Already looking her best this morning after running quick daylight errands.

   “Now, Max, I’d love to see you at my salon with your mama.” Mona clasped her hands and Max snickered because she hinted at that every time she saw the younger girl.

   “We’ll be sure to visit before school starts up again. Won’t we, Max?” Susan filled the cup.

   “Be sure to bring, Billy, I love doing boy’s hair too.”

   “You might convince him to cut this all off.” Neil remarked plainly when Billy’s tired eyes lifted. Mona just smiled.

   “The boys love to look like rock stars these days, sir. It's the in thing.” She took the flour. “I’ll leave you to your meal. Say, how about I make you your first dinner of the new year? I know it’s been such a change.”

   Susan opened her mouth and shut it, peered at Neil for his answer.

   “That’s a wonderful offer,” he replied, “only if we can bring the dessert.”

   There he was. The charming family man.

   Mona gave a cute giggle.

   “I’ll take you up on that. Is six alright?”

   “We’ll be there, Mona, thank you. I hope Evie feels better by then.” Susan wiped her hands on a towel and showed her friend out. 

   “Oh, she’ll be fine. My girl's strong.”

   Billy grew bright pink. Fuck.

   Susan came back to sit down. Got a few bite in before Neil stood and kissed her cheek. Dug a few bills out of his wallet.

   “Make what you like, have it ready.”

   “Thank you, honey.” She jumped when Neil unceremoniously smacked the back of Billy’s head.

   “What!” He cringed away in his chair, dropping the fork with a clatter.

   “You see the kind of attention you get when you look like a fucking fa-”

   “She was just being nice.” Billy shot back.

   Neil sneered and was already making his way out. Max wordlessly reached to pick up the fork and settled it next to his plate. She eyed him again once the door slammed and Neil made his way to work. Susan stared at her cold eggs.

   “We should go.” Max sighed. Something happened between him and Evie. Something ugly. “To the salon.”

   “You hate that shit.” Billy lost his appetite and sat back. Pushing up out of his chair.

   “We’ll need a ride anyways. Neil always has the car and it’s better than the bus.”

   “Do I look like I’m your damn taxi?” Billy snapped. Noted Susan flinching, but she didn’t get between them. Max sat straighter. Too calm and observant.

   “No, you look sad.” 

   “Fuck off.” Billy shoved up and left his plate there.

   “Maxine.” Susan stood. “Billy-”

   A door slammed. Max debated it and went after him.

   “Don’t, he’s upset.” Susan snatched her daughter’s wrist. 

   “Yeah and he’s not Neil.” Max slipped off, leaving Susan to frown at her plate and pull her sleeves down a little lower.

   Summoning more courage, Max knocked.

   “Go away.” Came the muffled reply she ignored. Pushing in. “Just fucking go away.”

   Billy was under the covers. Having tossed his jeans and shoes aside. He didn’t raise his voice, it only got raspier. 

   “Didn’t you take Evie to that party? What happened?” Max shut the door. Crossed toward the bed.

   “Doesn’t matter.”

   “She came home before you. This orange car passed when I was sitting in the open garage fixing my wheel. I saw Evie come out at the end of the street and go home. She looked upset.”

   “An orange car?”

   “Yeah, like a rusty orange. Old car too, a Plymouth like my dad used to drive. I saw a man in the front seat. He looked like a dad too. Evie was in the car with him.”

   Billy’s head lifted to see her. Max didn't often see this look on her brother's face. Horror.

   “A dad?”

   “I don’t know, it was weird. He didn’t drop her off at her house. He passed it and she walked back.” Max shrugged, dared to sit on the bed when Billy pushed up.

   “Did you see his face?”

   “I think I’ve seen him before, I don’t know where. I was too far away. He kinda looked like Neil. Lighter hair.”

   “Mustache. Blond.” Billy’s eyes searched. He got up. “Gotta shower.”

   “Billy, what’s going on?”

   “Nothing, Max." A dismissive hand waved. "Just stay out of it.”

   “You messed up, didn’t you?” She paused when he whirled around. Thought he’d get upset. But, he only exhaled and turned to go. Stopping again when his thought was too much.

   “Max, you know not to get into cars with older guys. Right? Even if they’re pretty? Even if they call you pretty too.” Billy found her eyes and looked defeated. Something else rare for him to show.

   “Duh.” Max shrugged. A beat. “You haven’t told Neil about Lucas.”

   “You haven’t knocked my dick in the dirt with a fucking nail bat. Don't care that you see boys as long as they don't... Just don't let Neil know you hang out with them.” He opened the door. “Out.”

   Max beamed a little.

   “Apologize to Evie.” She passed with an obvious huff.

   As if it was that easy.

** ** **

   “Mom, I really don’t feel good.” Evie mopped around in a robe after taking a long shower. Mona was touching her forehead. A barely there graze before she went to sort some items in the cupboard.

   “You feel fine. It’s just dinner. Socializing is good for the soul.”

   “Mom, I really don’t-”

   “Evie, just smile for a few hours. Please, I want them to feel welcome. You can do that.” Mona waved her hand about.

   Evie shut her mouth. Flashed teeth beyond twitching lips. Moved to go off into her room where Bourbon sat sleeping. His eyes cracked before he gave a purr and resumed slumber.

   "Least one of us had a good New Years." Evie organized some empty decorative boxes and dishes on one of her bookshelves. Hummed in thought at another shelf full of collectibles. Felt the cool metal of an antique key no bigger than her pinkie.

   It tasted vaguely bloody. Clanked around in her mouth. Harsher than the button. Such a forbidden thing. That much was almost thrilling. Evie tried once to push it down. Choked. Coughed it up onto her desk with a small clatter.

   Just grin and bear it. You can suck it up, Mona said in her head. Encouragement. Always necessary. Evie picked up the key, spit trails came from it. Forced it to the back of her tongue. Swallowed once. Twice.

   It seeped awkwardly down. Dropped into her stomach with the few buttons she’d eaten too.

   Evie wondered if they’d dance with her as she navigated the world. Falling back into bed. Debating the musical clicking sounds underscored by growing flowers inside her. 

   She thought of Fredrick winding around her frame. Kissing her jaw. Teaching her things. There was a soft boy before him, but he’d moved out of state. Mr. Bowers plucked her off the floor after her father left. Talked about how it was forbidden too, but it never stopped him from kissing her. 

   This is so wrong. Kiss. But, you're irresistible. Kiss. The world just doesn't understand. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

   It was funny how you could be so desired by a person who also constantly tells you it's wrong.

   But, that won't stop them. Excess skin. Age. What would bother people more if they knew?

   She’d sit on his bed and he’d join her. Put his hand up her leg and…

   “Evie!” Mona called. “Can you help me here? I won’t let you stay in that room all day for New Years.”

   Evie sprang up to gulp air. Held it. Felt in total control of her existence.

   “Coming.”

** ** **

   Evie hung back when the knocks rang. Stuck her head in the freezer and swallowed an ice cube whole. Wondered if this new habit would ruin her appetite. Wondered why she wasn’t horrified and ashamed of herself. It was just so quiet when it happened. Soothing. None of the ugly white noise in her daily life clustered.

   Nobody needed to know. It was wrong, that wouldn't stop her.

   “Honey! Come in and say hello.”

   Another ice cube slid down her throat. Felt like good practice.

   Wiping cold, wet fingers on her denim skirt, Evie appeared around the corner to see the Hargroves standing in her living room. Billy tried to catch her eyes.

   “Hi,” a shy wave followed, “Happy New Year.”

   “Evie, you look so pretty today.” Susan crossed to greet her with a dish. “I made cherry cheesecake for dessert.”

   “Looks good, thank you, I’ll put it in the kitchen.” Evie pulled it from her hands. Candied and red on top of fluffy filling.

   “Mona, I insist on helping.” Susan had gone on.

   “You’re my guest, Susan.” Mona looked up from Neil’s hand. Pressed in a nice polo and blue slacks. He offered a little bouquet of snapdragons tied together with tissue paper and twine. Also had a bottle of white wine. “It’s almost ready, please sit at the table. Evie just set it.”

   Evie snuck out of the kitchen again and saw Billy there staring pointed at her with an expression she couldn’t read. Averted her eyes to the little redhead next to him.

   “Hey, Max, enjoying break?”

   “While it lasts,” she glanced up at her brother as Evie shuffled away. Mona handed her the flowers to put in a vase. “That bad?” Max addressed Billy quietly.

   “Yeah.” 

   Evie looked at him like he was nothing to her. No anger, no sadness. Just a big, gaping nothing.

   Somehow that was worse.

   “The flowers are lovely, Mr. Hargrove. Thank you.” Evie came out to settle the vase on a side table in the dining room as he pulled out a chair for Susan.

   “We’re neighbors. Neil and Susan are fine, Evie.” He was all sweetness. The doting husband. Billy crept around the corner with Max.

   “I should help my mom.” Evie made herself disappear. 

   “It smells good.” Max crossed to sit down as well across from Billy.

   “I made something special from home. Jambalaya. Tried to go easy on the spice for your stomachs.” Mona brought a dish in after Evie sent some fresh rolls at the table. Her cheeks flush because her mother sat down too quick. The only free spot was the opposite head of the table between Max and Billy.

   She suppressed a groan and crossed to take it. Offered sodas to Billy and Max wordlessly. 

   “Would you like to join me in the prayer?” Mona offered her hands out to Neil and Max.

   “Of course.” Neil only smiled. Evie shifted in her seat. Felt Billy’s eyes burn. Took Max’s hand and stared at Billy’s open palm. Was this a game to him?

   She took it. Squeezed it maybe a little too tight. Stared ruefully at her empty plate. Max noticed Billy’s knuckles pale and smirked at his tense expression.

   “Bless us, Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ. Bless the Hargroves, we are truly grateful to have them join us tonight. Please guide our children through a successful year, we pray. Amen.” Mona smiled. “Please dig in. I always make so much.”

   “Allow me.” Neil plucked up the wine and poured three glasses for the adults.

   “First Christmas and New years in our town. I have to ask if it was a memorable one?” Mona started conversation. The rolls and dishes were passed around.

   “First white Christmas we’ve ever seen, it was beautiful.” Susan radiated.

   As the adults chattered about boring Christmas gifts, Max turned to Evie.

   “Mom got me some of that felting stuff, you can teach me how to do it now.” She flashed a smile. “Can you show me after dinner?”

   “Sure.” Evie was tearing her roll into two pieces. Eyed the butter next to Billy and decided to eat it without. “Eager to stab something a million times into a cute shape?”

   “Duh.” Max kicked Billy’s ankle. Tried to get him to speak, but he shoved a huge bite of rice into his mouth. “Maybe I can show, El.”

   “El?” Evie sipped her soda.

   “This new girl I’m hanging out with. Chief Hopper’s kid, he wants her to have more girl friends.” Max chuckled, twirling her fork around. “We didn’t...get along at first, but it’s better now. We found things in common.”

   Another kick at Billy’s shin. He glared. Nudged her foot back.

   “Easier when you’re younger.” Evie remarked.

   “We’re gonna find Evie a talent agent this summer,” Mona had spoken across the way, “she won all these competitions these last few summers. Sung for the governor himself at an event when she was only thirteen.”

   “Mom…” Evie blushed. She loved this food and today, it looked ghastly somehow.

   “Being a singer is difficult work.” Neil spoke. “How are you going to make money in the meantime?” 

   “She’s good,” Billy found his voice, “real good. She can make money singing.” A cold stare penetrated. “Miss Mona, weren’t you a pageant queen?”

   That turned the adult conversation for the rest of the dinner. Mona and Susan prattled with Neil stuck between them. Miserable and having to hide it. Billy turned to Evie. Smirked.

   “Can you pass the butter?” She blinked at him. Reached for another roll.

   Billy cocked his head and handed it over. Evie didn’t want to fall into those pretty eyes again. Listened to her mother and Susan chatter eagerly with Neil chewing and nodding every so often.

   Evie saw him fill his glass of wine three times.

   “Let me help you clear this for dessert.” Susan was stacking plates so Evie got up to help. Neil drank his last glass down as he sat back. Clearly extremely relaxed.

   “Neither of you are going to offer extra hands?” He’d barked under the sound of dishes in the sink and the TV in the next room.

   “It’s fine, we have it.” Evie came to set the pie down at the center of the table. Neil snatched her wrist to observe her expression. Eyebrows lifting.

   “You’re a very kind, young girl, Evie. You should sing us something.” Alcohol on his breath welled hot. He was drunk and hiding it better than most. Barely ate any dinner because the spices weren’t for him.

   Max’s fists clenched on the table and Billy moved like he might stand up.

   “Oh, I couldn’t.” Evie replied, another bout of strawberries crept up her cheeks.

   “Can’t be a singer if you’re shy.” He chuckled.

   “She was sick this morning, she probably shouldn’t.” Billy came out of his chair carefully. Eyes direct on his dad clutching Evie’s wrist.

   The fingers loosened so she crossed behind Billy. Paused there so Neil could see who her shield was. Got back into a chair.

   Billy slowly sat back down.

   Neil would deal with him later.

   “Susan, this looks delightful. I hope you’re willing to share the recipe. I haven’t mastered the cheesecake yet.” Mona ushered her friend back in. Neither felt the tension as Neil and Billy stared at each other. Not stopping when the cake was cut and passed around.

   “I’ll write it down for you.” Susan offered Billy a piece, caught Neil’s eyes. “Neil says that’s what made him fall for me. Way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” 

   Neil pressed this tight smile and laughed with the two ladies. None of the kids followed.

   “Better if you just go through his chest.” Max had mumbled. Stabbing a bright red cherry with her fork. Evie suppressed the urge to snicker. Swallowed the sweet treat and excused herself when the meal ended. Max trailed after.

   “Want to show me? No plans tonight.”

   “Sure.” Evie twitched a smile.

   Mona was pulling Susan out onto the back deck while Evie grabbed a basket she kept her craft items in. A body blocked her in the hallway.

   “Evie, can I see you outside?” Neil wasn’t particularly tall, but he certainly had a presence. 

   Her eyes went steady on Billy at the end of the hallway behind him.

   “Yes, sir.” She glanced again and Billy disappeared. “Max, want to use my desk? You've seen my room, I can show you this. Don't mind Bourbon snoring, he's been extra tired today.”

   “Yeah, sure.” Max took it after an uneasy beat so Evie followed Neil out front.

   “It was a lovely dinner, I don’t go much for exotic food.”

   “From New Orleans, Louisiana.” Evie replied flatly. “I guess.” Neil was all pleasantries. Shifting on his feet and breath smelling of wine.

   “You just seem nervous around Billy. My boy has a history.” He gestured. “Not a very nice history with girls like you.”

   “Girls like me?” Evie’s nervous hands rubbed together in front of her. Shoulder’s lifting.

   “Girls who are just a little…” Bigger. Darker. Stranger. Exotic. “Different.”

   “Billy and I...Well, we don’t really talk.” 

   It was clear Neil wanted some admission out of her. Just for the sake of it.

   “I just mean, if my boy has been unkind to you. I’d like to know about it. Billy gets into trouble and it’s my job to keep him out of it.” Neil stepped in. “You’re a very nice girl, boys take advantage. That's all I'm saying.”

   “We…” Evie’s lip wobbled. “We don’t talk, sorry. Billy hasn’t…”

   “If my boy steps out of line, Evie, I’d like to know about it.” Neil smiled again. “Tell your mother I said thank you for dinner. No doubt, she’ll keep Susan busy another hour.”

   “Sure.” Evie watched him step down the porch. Stumbled and recovered quick. “Goodnight.”

   The moment Neil went into his house, no doubt for another bottle, Billy slid out of the front door.

   “You didn’t say anything. To your mom or anyone.” He observed plainer. Unreadable. "Why?"

   “Your dad’s gone, Billy, we don’t have to pretend anymore.” Evie replied without a tone. Stepping around him. Sparing him a beating maybe. No emotion to give him.

   He wasn’t worth it.

   That replayed over and over again. No tears, no anger. Just ice. Cool and sleek. 

   Evie went back into her house. 

   Billy decided another night in his car away from Cherry Lane was better.

** ** ** **

   “You can glue the eyes in now.” Evie applied some from a tube and pushed two tiny eyes into Max’s project.

   “Looks like a monster.” Max snickered at the hideous yellow blob. “It was supposed to be a baby chick.”

   “Ah, takes practice. Just keep stabbing. Give it to your mom, she’ll display and love it forever because you made it.” They sat at her desk under a little lamp. Max looked at Evie twisting wool around to make a shape, plucked up the project she’d made. “Kinda strange, you stab something a million times until it’s pretty. Keeps my hands busy though.”

   “Trying to stay distracted?” Max piped in. Bourbon lifted his head behind them and wandered over for pets.

   “When you get older, all you want is distractions.” Evie shrugged her shoulders and sat back. Let her cat sweep their legs.

   “What happened with you and Billy?”

   “Huh? Nothing.” Evie managed to smile.

   “I know he took you to a party and...he came home  without you looking trashed like he crawled out of a dumpster.” Max paused. “Someone else took you home.”

   “I just got a ride from another friend. I don’t rage like Billy does.” Lie.

   “You’re mad at him.”

   “I’m not mad. I don’t…” I don’t want to feel anything. Sadness and fury. They weren’t to be processed or discussed. They made you ungrateful. 

   “Did you have a bad time? Did he get mad? He gets mad and does stupid stuff.” Mad Max was too sharp for this entire bland town. Evie sucked in her cheeks.

   “No, I had a great time actually. That was the problem.” A wave crashed into her. Covered in metallic confetti. Magical. Crushing.

   “What happened?” Max pressed.

   “It’s not for me to say, I don’t want to-” Evie sprang up and the door opened.

   “Sorry girls, Susan was headed out.” Mona dipped in without knocking. “Having fun?”

   “Yeah.” Max stood up. “Thanks, Evie, I’ll keep practicing. As long as it takes.” Felt like she was hinting at something else.

   “Night, Max.” Evie watched her mother show the younger girl out. Quickly swept her craft supplies back into a basket and plucked up her old cat. Listened to him purr. Decided another long night of sleep and late morning was better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Chat with me if you have time :))

Tagged:: @80sbxtch​ @nottherightseason @orxhidshavana @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @billy--hargroves

[moongazer606]

Who Are You Calling Old? Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1914

Warnings: alcohol consumption

Summary: Part two!! It’s been a few weeks, but you finally have another run-in with Bucky at the bar.

Part One

Tags: @palaiasaurus64 @thenewlarislynn​ @calspalkira 

In an effort to not feel like a stalker, you decided to actively avoid looking up Bucky Barnes online. You didn’t want to see any paparazzi photos of him and the other Avengers, you didn’t want to know which small country they had saved now, or what restaurants they were visiting or what clothes they were seen buying. You just wanted Bucky to be the cute guy you had maybe kind of flirted with at the bar a few weeks ago. 

You hadn’t seen him, or Captain America, at the bar since. A small part of you missed him. Or at least missed being able to glance over at him as you played darts with your friends. He was easy on the eyes, that’s for sure. You supposed if you did happen to look him up, you’d find some explanation for his absence. Maybe the Avengers had moved back down to New York City, or maybe he was in Europe somewhere. However, no matter how tempted you were, you never did look him up.

Every so often Jess would catch you scanning the bar for the man and tease you. None of your other friends really knew about your interaction with the celebrity. It had only been a brief encounter really, yet somehow, almost a month later you were still thinking about him.

It was just another Friday night. You and your friends had already been here for a few hours and you were many drinks in. Your cheeks were flushed and you were laughing a little too hard at everyone’s jokes. You were standing with your friends, your gin and tonic in one hand, and a dart in the other. You had just thrown your first two darts and were lining up to take your last shot. 

Just as you released the dart, Jess leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Don’t look now but someone is checking you out from the bar.”

Before the dart had even met its mark, you whipped around to look for him. Your eyes landed on him almost immediately. He was sitting on the same stool at the bar, though this time he was turned to face the dartboards, his elbows back on the bartop. 

“I told you not to look!” Jess hissed. 

You were too busy smiling at Bucky to notice Jess now. You turned around briefly to check that your last dart had hit center before announcing you were going for another drink. You heard Jess suggest that maybe you had had enough to drink, but you just kept walking.

Bucky’s eyes were on you the whole way as you focused very hard on not tripping in the heels you were wearing. While you walked you realized that he had his hair pulled back tonight with the barest hint of 5 o’clock shadow. No matter what, you’d find him attractive, you thought. Especially because with his hair back it gave you an even better view of those steel blue eyes. When you got to the bar, you hopped up on the stool next to him and he turned to face the bartop.

“What’s a girl gotta do to buy you a drink?” you asked with a grin.

“And here I was going to buy you one,” he smiled back, crooked and boyish.  

You scoffed jokingly. “So old fashioned. This is the 21st century you know, old man.”

“Do men in the 21st century usually buy drinks for girls who haven’t introduced themselves first?” You could see him smiling into his glass as he took a sip of the clear liquid.

“Might I point out you haven’t introduced yourself either? In fact, the first time you spoke to me you were making fun of my drink order.”

He turned his body slightly to face you, and held out his hand for you to shake. “I’m James Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky.”

“I know,“ you smirked, putting your hand in his. His hand absolutely dwarfed yours, somehow making you feel even smaller next to the super soldier.

“And yet I still don’t know your name.”

You thought about teasing him some more, but decided to just introduce yourself instead. He gave your hand a solid shake, repeating your name out loud. You liked the way it sounded in his deep timbre. 

At that moment, Max finally made his way over to the pair of you. It took your alcohol muddled mind a moment to realize you still had your hand in Bucky’s. You quickly snatched it away and turned to smile at Max.

“Another gin and tonic, please,” Bucky ordered. You were about to protest when he nodded his head towards you, continuing, “And for the lady?”

“I think it’s time I switched to water, Max. Thank you.” 

As soon as Max was out of ear shot you turned back to Bucky, giving him a shit eating grin as you leaned your chin on your fist. He looked at you before facing forward again. “What, doll?”

“I thought only old people drank gin these days,” you mimicked his words from the night you met.

Before he could answer, Jess came up to you. You could tell she was trying to remain perfectly casual in Bucky’s presence, her eyes darting to him every so often, as she told you they were all going to head out. “You’ll be okay, right?”

“Max is bringing me a water as we speak, I’ll be just fine, Jess.” You saw her eyes dart to Bucky again. “Bucky, this is Jess. Jess, this is Bucky,” you quickly introduced.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Bucky told her as they shook hands. You noted that their handshake was significantly shorter than the one you had shared. 

For a moment you thought Jess was going to say something more to him but instead she turned back to you, gave you a quick hug, and went to rejoin the rest of your friends where they waited near the door. You raised your hand in farewell before they all filed out. 

When you turned back around, you noticed that Max had brought your drinks. You took a few large gulps of your water before spinning in the stool so you were fully facing Bucky. “So?” you prompted.

“Still on me about the gin?” he questioned taking a sip of it.You nodded your head with a grin. “I know you know who I am now. Which means you also know I wasn’t lying when I said I was old and didn’t look it- unlike some people.”

“You have to admit it tastes better than a scotch and soda though, right?”

“It sure does,” he winked, raising his class to you. You gently bumped your water glass against his, before you both drained their contents. When he called Max over you thought he was going to order another round, but instead he paid both his tab and yours.

“I was supposed to be buying you a drink!” you protested.

“Maybe next time, doll,” he assured you, tossing a few extra bills on the bartop for good measure. You raised your eyebrows at the prospect of a “next time”. “Let’s get you home.”

“I live just down the road,” you told him as you both stood from the stools.

“Let me walk you. It’s late.” 

He gave you a crooked smile that you couldn’t help but return with a nod. As you both made your way to the door, he gently guided you with a hand at the small of your back. Once outside, he pulled his hand away, but stayed close beside you. He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him and part of you wished he’d touch you again. Between the water and the cool night air, your head was starting to clear a bit. 

Even in your heels you had to tilt your head up to look at him. You could see him scanning the surrounding area as you walked in a comfortable silence. At this time of night there was no one else around. You had never felt unsafe walking home from the bar, but it was nice to have the security of a hulking super soldier next to you.

Your apartment, which was above a place that claimed to buy and sell gold, was only a few blocks from Shade’s, and you were there faster than you wanted to be. You stopped in front of the door that led up to your apartment, and turned to face Bucky. 

“Thank you for walking me back.”

As you looked up at him now, alone on the empty street, the only light came from a nearby streetlamp and a neon sign in the shop window. You became hyper-aware of just how alone the two of you were now, and just how quiet the street was after the bustle of the bar. You could hear Bucky’s shoes scrape on the pavement as he took a hesitant step towards you. 

He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and then left his hand there to cup your jaw. Without thinking you took a step forward, closing the distance between you. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself as he brought his lips down to yours. The kiss was gentle and soft, like he was afraid of breaking you. He pulled back after just a moment, those steel blue eyes meeting yours. Your eyes flicked down to his lips before making eye contact once more.

That seemed to be the only que he needed before leaning back in for another kiss. He seemed more sure of himself now, your lips moving together in perfect sync. He wrapped his arms securely around your waist as you clung to his shoulders. This time when he pulled away you were both breathless and grinning. You rested your foreheads together as you tried to catch your breath.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that for weeks,” you admittedly shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

You felt more than heard him chuckle. “Yeah, me too, doll.”

After a few more moments you let go of each other so you could fish your keys out of your purse.

 “I’d invite you up, but I don’t think your old fashioned sensibilities would allow it,” you joked as your shaking hands managed to unlock the door. You turned back to face him.

“I’ve got work in the morning anyway, but maybe we can grab dinner sometime this week?” he asked, a little bashful. “I’ll even let you pay if you want.” 

Having a sudden thought, you reached your hand back into your purse, pulling out a Sharpie. You held your hand out expectantly to him. He looked a bit confused before placing his hand in yours. As neat as you could, you scrawled your number on his forearm. “Call me sometime and we’ll set it up.”

He gave your hand a squeeze before releasing it. “Alright. Well goodnight, doll.”

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

With a grin, he shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to walk back in the direction of the bar. When he was about a block away he turned and raised a hand in farewell. You did the same before finally going inside. You were still grinning like an idiot as you climbed into bed and fell asleep.  

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe {41}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. 

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

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Chapter 41:  Options, Everyone Has Em’ 

-Vixen-

 You had no idea why you were here. You didn’t even know you would be here. You’d gone on a run, had breakfast with Ella, cleaned out your voicemail by listening to most messages. Most meant all the messages that weren’t his. His you deleted automatically. You responded to most texts even the crazy ones from your friends and explained what exactly happened. They were still pissed you’d lied but weren’t too pissed that they didn’t forgive you. In the words of Drea, “who could stay mad at Chris Evans’ wife?”

 You’d meant to drive to the restaurant but the voicemail you got while stuck in traffic led you here. You vividly remembered the first time you were here. It looked relatively the same but some aspects were different. The carpet was a teal color now and the décor looked a lot chicer but overall it was the same.

 “Ms. Giovanni.”

 You looked into the smiling and welcoming face of a man who was at least half a foot taller than you, slim build that contradicted the wide breadth of his shoulders. He held his hand out to you as if to shake your hand.

 “Max Loren, we spoke.”

 You nodded and shook his hand. “Yes.”

 “Please follow me.” He walked ahead leading you down the hall to an office three doors down. He ushered you inside and motioned to one of the three free chairs. Once you sat down he did the same behind his desk and plastered that smile on his face again.

 “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. My wife is super excited about the opening of your restaurant. She is a big foodie.”

 “Oh, thank you. That’s kind of you to say.”

 “I’m glad you could make it in on such short notice,” Max continued.

“You were on the way to where I needed to be, two birds.”

 Max smiled and nodded. “So I can assume that is enough small talk, right?”

 You scoffed and crossed your arms and waited for him to continue. “My job is to explain your options. I can imagine this is not what you expected. You thought you were rid of this years ago and due to an error you’re not. You may be wondering what does it all mean? How can this be fixed? Let me tell you there is an easy fix.”

 There was a quick knock at the door before it opened. You turned and saw the same lawyer from three years ago, Sherman walk into the room. He had a bashful look on his face as he came to stand next to Max.

 “Sherman, I don’t think now is a good time,” Max began.

 “This is still my practice, it’s my name on this building. Sit down, son.” Max sat back in his seat and you got a bit of satisfaction from it. Something about Max rubbed you the wrong way.

 “Ms. Giovanni. I was going to cower in my office from shame but I decided to face you. I want to apologize for my error those years ago. I also wanted to explain. I had a complete mental and emotional breakdown not too long after we met. As you can imagine in this town they are quite common. I lost everything and with it my mind. I went into rehab and my work and responsibilities fell to the wayside. I am solely responsible for dropping the ball when it came to processing the paperwork for your divorce. I sincerely apologize.”

You didn’t need a lie detector test to know he meant it. He really was remorseful. You couldn’t hold a mental and emotional breakdown against him. Mental health was important to you and nothing should supersede it. Yes, it was inconvenient your situation fell through the cracks but you didn’t want to make him the bad guy.

 Taking a deep breath, you slowly released. “Sherman, it’s all right. I understand the importance of mental and emotional health. I’m sorry you went through a tough time. I’m happy you’re doing better now.”

 He looked surprised and speechless as if he’d expected a whole different reaction. No doubt his other clientele would have been livid and threatened lawsuit upon lawsuits to nail his ass to the wall. He stuttered for a few moments before composing himself.

 “Ehm, uh, thank you. That means a tremendous amount to me, especially coming from you.”

 You smiled and nodded, then sighed.

 “So options?”

 “As I was saying,” Max began bringing your attention back to him. “We can assist you in refiling for the divorcee. The papers would be submitted and processed in about--.”

 “Three to five months, right,” you filled in.

 “Right.”

 “I’m a pro at divorces now, although I’ve never actually gotten one,” you sarcastically joked.

 “It all would be quick, painless and easily executed. Both of you just go your separate ways,” Max added.

 “Don’t believe one word he says, Ms. Giovanni.” Your head spun to watch a tall, beautiful woman dressed in a sharp pencil skirt outfit walk into Max’s office.

“Excuse me? Who the hell are you?” Max was on his feet with a clear annoyed look on his face.

 “Names, Charmaine St. John, from St. John & Associates. We’re across the street. My third assistant’s job is to watch this building and report who goes in and who goes out. When she told me you walked in, I knew this was my chance. It’s a good think I came when I did these two were about to swindle you all for the benefit of their client,” she explained.

 You looked between the three faces and waited for someone to pull whatever chosen weapon lawyers preferred and duke it out.

 “I’m calling security,” Max started.

 “What Mr. Loren doesn’t want me to say is that quick, painless and easily executed is a crock of shit, especially when it comes to your divorce.” You looked to Max and then Sherman who wore different expressions. Max looked fed up and at his wit’s end while Sherman looked calm.

 “Their client, Chris Evans is a huge Hollywood star, he is worth millions. If the rumors are correct and I assume they are, there was no prenup. That little detail that the two of you have foregone means that you are entitled to everything he has. Homes, cars, income, jewelry, and anything that matters. They don’t want you to know that.”

Again, you looked to the two men. You wouldn’t put it past either of them. “Before you barged in Ms. St. John, it would have been addressed,” Sherman began. “I am not here to swindle anyone. I want this handled as quickly and as amicably as possible,” he finished. You smiled to yourself and nodded.

 “If that is true for our client, then the same is true for you Ms. Giovanni,” Max announced.

 “Excuse me?”

 “There was no prenup, Chris is also entitled to everything of yours as well, including this new deal with your upcoming restaurant and any other deals that were made up until as recent as this morning.”

 Once he said that you paused. You never thought this deeply about any of it.

 “And you two have a child together, there are a slew of things that can come up there. Custody, visitation, child support,” Ms. St. John added.

 Your stomach fell to the floor at the thought that he could try to take Ella from you. to hell with him getting half of your accomplishments, the thought of Ella being dragged through this tore you apart—literally. This was a lot more complicated now.

 The three of them spoke for the next thirty or so minutes but after Ella was brought up your attention faded as you got lost in your thoughts. So many things were possible, especially considering how attached he seemed to have grown to her and all his admissions with how much she meant to him. It was possible he would try to get some form of custody, even if he didn’t try to take her away completely. Before any of them finished speaking you stood and walked out in a daze. You needed air.

 The elevator ride was the longest thing. You felt as if any moment you’d vomit and felt as if the walls of the elevator were closing in on you. Thankfully the doors opened before you puked, and you stumbled through the lobby outside to gulp in much needed oxygen. You stood there panting trying to slow your heart, calm your thoughts, and stop your impending panic attack.

“Vixen?” Your spine stiffened at the sound of his voice but the butterflies in your belly began instantly. You looked to the side and there he was, all six feet of muscle, beauty, and charm. Only he looked like he’d seen better days, there were bags underneath his eyes, he looked paler than normal, his eyes were near bloodshot and he wore sweatpants and a hoodie. He looked off. When you realized what you were doing you rolled your eyes and walked off.

 “Wait, please.” Ignoring the plea, you continued your walk to the parking lot around the corner.

 “Vixen, please. I’ve been trying to call you. We have to talk. Let me explain, please. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the full truth as soon as I found out. I’m sorry about everything.”

 As you walked you could hear his words but you didn’t want to listen so you picked up the pace of your steps while looking around. You had to make sure paps were around. That was your life now, because of him. a fresh wave of anger filled you and it was enough to get you to your car.

 “Vixen, come on. This isn’t fair. I don’t deserve this. I miss you, I miss Ella--.”

 Seeing your car you spun around while walking and looked at him. “Leave me alone! We were better off without you.”

 As soon as the words left your mouth he stopped in his tracks and the rest of the color drained from his face. Not waiting to see any more you turned and jogged the rest of the steps to your car then climbed inside and sped off.

 You were pissed for the rest of the day. Everyone knew it, so they limited their interaction with you hoping to steer clear of the fury that was Vixen Giovanni when she was pissed. After a quiet dinner and solemn bathtime with Ella, you sat out back with a glass of wine.

 “What’s wrong?”

 “I went to see his lawyers today.”

 “Oh, how’d it go?” You looked at Nex giving her the look. She instantly knew it was bad.

 “We don’t have a prenup. Normally that means I’m entitled to everything he has but now it means he’s also entitled to everything I have, everything Nex, including the restaurants, the deal with Kassius, even the Food Network deal. He is rightfully entitled to all of it.”

 “Do you want half?”

 “What! No, of course not. I don’t care about his money. I don’t want anything from him, I didn’t then and I definitely don’t now.”

 “But you think he’ll jump at the chance to take half of yours,” Nex filled in. You rubbed your forehead and finished the glass. “You don’t honestly believe that Vix.”

 “I don’t know what to believe anymore Nex. I don’t know him, I know nothing about him.”

 “Bullshit. You spent an entire night with him in Vegas. Something meaningful must have happened for you to have sworn off men and everything for three years. Something meaningful must have happened to make you fall for him, and marry him. Then these last months, it was clear the two of you were reconnecting. You’ve spent a lot of time together. You know more about him than ninety percent of the world. So this bullshit about not knowing him is a crock of shit,” Nex berated.

 You refilled your glass and took a few gulps.

 “Then this other lawyer, Charmain St. John who looks like she is vying to be my lawyer in all this brought up Ella. There’s a bunch to work out there, custody, parental rights, visitation, child support. Then it dawned on me he could try to take her from me. He could fight for shared custody. What then!”

 “Vix. Are we talking about the same man? Chris Evans who we’ve both spent weeks with, who has grown into this amazing dad right before our eyes. The guy wants the best for Ella. In no way could he believe the best for Ella is a life without you or less of you. It’s just not going to happen.”

 “People do strange things when they feel their backs are against the wall or they’re losing something.”

 “Is that why you’re going off the walls, you feel like you’re about to lose something?”

 “Yeah, my child.”

 “Is it your child or is it Chris?”

 You groaned and finished the glass. The sound of his name elicited conflicting reactions, want, desire, sadness, and anger. It was confusing.

 “Vix. Think about things thoroughly and slowly. Things happen for a reason, every single thing. You have to think about the reasons why you slept with him and married him before and think why you chose to open yourself up to him a second time, why did you sleep with him this time? Usually we act on feelings we don’t even recognize or haven’t fully acknowledged consciously. You should step away from everything surrounding him not telling you about the marriage and try to think about everything else.”

 “I can’t Nex. I’ve tried. I just—can’t go there.”

 “You’re gonna have to or prepare for this court battle.” With that Nex walked off inside leaving you alone with your thoughts, fears, and worries.

 As you passed Ella’s room to yours you heard her murmur your name. Walking in and stooping at her bedside you brushed her cheek.

 “Go to sleep, sleepy head.”

 “Mama, wayo da-da? I wan da-da.” Pinching your lips, you did your best to keep it together. You kissed her forehead and hummed to her hoping to gently lull her back to sleep.

 Once you had you disappeared into your room and buried your face into your pillows and bawled yourself to sleep, yet again, only this time with the realization that one of your biggest fears had come true. 

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