#tw Hello Jon Apologies for the-

[shyaringan]

iv only just now realized. that tumblr butchered the quality on my monster!jon post so badly that you couldnt even see the fun lil easter egg i put in one of the statements 😔😔😔

[69hertz]

Day 2 // inktober: Spiders // whumptober: Delirium

Statement continues...

Open full view for better quality 💚

(I accidentally made Jon look like David Tennant. Oh well. I do have a terrible GO brainrot, it's nothing new.)

[the-vasts-little-bitch]

AO IM MAKING A CALLOUT POST ON MY TWITTT DOR COM SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG UOU GOT A SMALL DICK ITS THE SIXE OF THIS WALNUT WXCEPT WAY SMALLER AND GUESD WHAT HETES WAT MY DONG LOOKS LIKE THATS RIGHT BABY ALL POINTS NO WUILLS NO PILLOWS LOOK AT THAhello jon. Apologies for the deception,

[cottonkandiskies]

DID is (for me in this moment)

Resenting a large portion of my fictives (including every one of my Magnus Archives fictives) because they remind me of my abuser, who had a lot of TMA fictives as well.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Hair Trigger

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam, YJ98

Summary: A junior at Gotham University, Jason finds it difficult to conceal his worsening mental health from his family and his friend, Jon Lane Kent. Family secrets are revealed and boundaries are pushed as Jason and Laney struggle to navigate through school, their romantic feelings, and their trauma. Could the reintroduction of Laney Kent be more trouble than it's worth, or is it just what Jason needed to confront the demons of his past?

I will also do trigger warnings for chapters and if there is smut I have the chapter(s) tagged so you don't have to worry about nsfw in the fic if you're just here for the story itself.

Chapters: 23/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Jonathan Lane Kent, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Natalia Knight, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, Chris Kent, Bart Allen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: JayLaney, Clois, TimKon

Additional Tags: University AU, No Powers AU, Sharing A Bed, Romance, Angst, TW // Kidnapping , TW // Gun Violence

Chapter Twenty-Three: Dead

Bruce went to bed early that night, leaving Cass and Jason to watch tv downstairs. Cass pulled the strings of her hoodie, covering her face. "This is terrible," she laughed.

"Somebody stop me!" Jason quoted as he nudged Cass.

She shook her head. "Dad's sleep," she held a finger up to quiet him.

"Hey," Jason whispered, "Popcorn?" She nodded and took the bowl from him.

"This is terrible," Cass mumbled. Jason's phone rang, and he answered.

"H—."

"Jason?" Laney sobbed.

"Yeah, it's me... What's wrong?" Jason asked. Laney coughed as he sobbed.

"He's dead," Laney sobbed, "I know I shouldn't be sad—."

"Wait, stop. Who's dead?" Jason asked.

"He—. Caleb," Laney cried. Jason pushed his hair back.

"Do your parents know?" Jason asked. "Cass, can you go get Dad's keys? I gotta go." Cass nodded and put the bowl on the coffee table before giving Jason a hug.

"No, they don't know. Jason, I'm sorry, I just didn't know who to tell," Laney apologized. Jason went upstairs and woke Bruce up.

"Dad... Dad, wake up. I'm taking one of your cars. I gotta go see about Lane," Jason whispered as he touched Bruce's shoulder. Bruce rolled onto his side.

"You're leaving?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded and waved as he went back downstairs and put his shoes on in the foyer. Cass came and handed him the keys.

"Hello?" Laney asked.

"Hey, baby, I'm on my way. Okay," Jason whispered, "Listen, it's okay that you're upset. I get why you're upset..."

Jason got in the car and put the phone on speaker. "Want to talk about something else?" Jason asked.

"Please," Laney wept.

"Know how you said you wanted to try couple's yoga?" Jason asked.

"And how you said it sounded like something straight people do?" Laney replied.

"Well, I'll give it a try if it'll make you feel better," Jason replied, "You're like the human version of a New Year's resolution, you know that?"

Laney sniffed. "Jason, I feel like I've asked a lot from you lately—."

"You can never ask me enough. Ask me more. Ask me anything, and I might say no at first, but I don't really think I can say no to you once I give it some thought," Jason reassured, "Yoga and therapy, I'll do it. All I ask is that you let me know what's going on in your head. Please."

Laney sniffed. "Jason, I promise that when I feel better, I'll—."

"Lane, don't worry about it. While I'm in the mood for saying yes, is there anything you want?" Jason asked.

"Can we listen to music?" Laney whispered.

Jason chuckled, "Of course we can listen to music. The CD you made me when we were fourteen got fucked up... But I have all the songs saved on a playlist."

"You've got—."

"I memorized the order to all the songs because it was the only thing I listened to when I was sad. You definitely altered my music taste completely," Jason confessed.

"There was no heterosexual explanation for some of those songs," Laney chuckled.

"To be fair, I ended up liking you even more after that," Jason smiled before starting to sing the words to a Don Henley song. "I never will forget those nights—."

"Eww, okay... That's embarrassing," Laney chuckled.

Jason laughed. "No, but do you realize that was the sweetest thing you'd ever done for me?" Jason asked. Jason continued to speak softly to Laney until he got to the apartment. "Hey, Laney, I'm here—." Jason was interrupted by the sound of Laney snoring. He chuckled and used the key around his neck to let himself in. He went into the bedroom and stripped down to his underwear, placed Laney's CPAP over Laney's nose, and climbed into the bed.

Laney stirred. "Jason, that you?" Laney mumbled.

"No," Jason whispered, "I'm a burglar, and I've come to take a nap in your bed and take all your money." Laney turned around, and Jason pressed a kiss to Laney's cheek. "I told you I was on my way."

"I guess I figured you were trying to get me to go to sleep," Laney replied. Jason shook his head. "I'm sorry. I know you were supposed to spend the night—."

"I can always go home and spend the night. You said you needed me, so here I am. Simple as that," Jason whispered.

Jason fixed Laney's hair, pushing a few loose strands out of the way. "It's good that he's dead... Isn't it?" Laney asked. Jason nodded.

"I'm not gonna get mad at you for being upset. You can be hurt if you want to be. It's okay," Jason whispered. Laney tried to blink away a few tears, but they streamed down his cheeks. Jason sat up in the bed, and Laney rested his head in Jason's lap. Jason played with Laney's hair.

"I couldn't even ask them how he died," Laney's voice broke. Jason rubbed his back and with his other hand. "Jason, I'm so sorry."

"Lane, have you ever talked to anybody about what it was like when you were with him?" Jason asked.

"I know that it was wrong, and I'm glad that it's o—."

"You don't have to use logic. Just tell me how you feel. I'm not gonna get mad at you," Jason whispered.

Laney took a deep breath. "It started out when he let me sleep in his office, and he'd leave little things for me underneath his desk, like notes and stuff... Then he started coming in there and talking to me all night, and then we started sleeping in his room.

We never had sex, but he comforted me. I had nightmares and a lot of emotional stuff going on, but he gave me what I thought I needed. I needed someone to care about me. Logically I know how wrong it is to feel bad for how things ended, but I can't help it."

Jason nodded and continued to rub Laney's back. "I'm still listening," Jason reassured.

"The day that my sophomore year ended, and I was in the car with him on the way to Hershey, I think I knew what he wanted deep down... But the thing is, I wasn't ready. When he brought it up, I freaked. I started crying, and had I not thrown up out of the window, he never would've let me go.

He was in the car arguing with me and screaming at me. He told me that I needed him and that I wasn't as mature as I seemed at first," Laney stopped speaking abruptly. Jason looked down at Laney. "What's wrong?" Jason asked.

Laney sat up and took his mask off. "He was horrible to me... I mean, I've never really thought about how things ended," Laney replied, "Not about what he said to me... I don't really feel bad anymore."

"You sure?" Jason asked. "We can talk some more if you want..."

Laney locked his fingers with Jason's, and Laney kissed his cheek. "Thank you for coming to get me," Laney whispered. Jason returned the favor by kissing his cheek, and before either of them could think, they both shared a passionate kiss.

Jason pulled away. "Lane, I gotta stop," Jason chuckled as they touched foreheads.

Laney smiled. "You're so cute," Laney whispered, "Do you maybe want to do this after my family goes back home?"

Jason gave Laney a quick peck on the lips. "Sunday night?" Jason asked.

"Yeah," Laney mumbled with a hint of lust in his voice. Jason chuckled and lay down. Laney put his CPAP back on and lay facing the door, and Jason wrapped his arms around Laney. "Jason, can I say something stupid?"

"Please do," Jason smiled.

"You have a dump truck ass," Laney laughed, and Jason pressed a kiss to the back of Laney's neck.

"You're so annoying," Jason grinned, holding back a laugh. "Go to bed."

[sailorshadzter]

some modern jonsa that i was inspired to write after seeing a word prompt list ive since lost since i didnt reblog it lol

tw: domestic violence mention

tbh i had every intention of writing more for this but realized ive written this same plot line too many times & it turned me off from finishing it any further lol

ANYWAYS

His phone rings, an unfamiliar number flashing across the screen. 

At once he knows, somehow, within the depths of his mind just who would be on the other end of that call. He reaches, thumb clicking the green button, putting the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He says, but the only response is a small, yet sharp intake of air, then the blare of the dial tone. His hand falls back to his side, phone gripped tightly in his palm- he thinks for a moment he might move on, a wrong number perhaps, but his heart twists and he knows. 

So he pulls it back upwards, clicking the number and listening as the ringing begins once more.

She gasps, the phone she holds lighting up, the number she’d only just dialed a few moments ago flashing on the screen, calling her back. Her heart skips a beat, a tremor of fear rushing the length of her spine, but she steels her heart against it and answers the call. “Jon…?” 

Jon… 

The voice is familiar, despite the time that’s passed since he last heard it. “Sansa…” he greets softly, gray eyes closing for a long, silent moment. “It’s been a long time,” he continues, perhaps with a sharper tone than he intends, opening his eyes so he might stare at the single photo he keeps on the table beside his couch- it’s from five summers back, when Robb had been alive and his time was so often spent with the Stark family that he was usually mistaken for just another of their many children. 

She knew this was a mistake. 

It’s been nearly three years since she last saw Jon, since she even spoke to him, let alone saw him, so why would he want to talk to her now? Besides… It wasn’t like he’d tried to call, either, at least not recently. “I know,” she says, holding onto whatever bravery is left in her heart. “I’m sorry.”

Her voice breaks over the syllables of apology and something tells Jon that this nine o’clock call on a Tuesday night isn’t just to catch up. “Sansa… What is it?” He softens now, empty hand tightening into a fist at his side, his mind whirring with every possibility. 

On the other end, Sansa steps into the bathroom, flipping on the light so she can stare into the mirror. The face that stares back at her is one she almost doesn’t recognize, not with the bruises and the tears, the eyes haunted by what’s been done. She shudders, closing her eyes for another moment more, wishing she could find the words to say to him. “I… I need help.” She finally says, softly, brokenly, a fresh tear falling down her face. 

The silence that falls lasts all of twenty seconds before he speaks. 

“I’ll be there tomorrow.” 

[ x x x ]

When his truck pulls into the driveway, she’s already at the door.

She slips out the front door so she can stand there on the front steps, watching as he climbs from his truck and makes his way up the drive, looking quite like a man that’s drove all night long to get to her side. Her heart skips a beat as he climbs up the two steps to stand on the porch, his familiar gray eyes sweeping her up and down. “Sansa…” He says her name in such a way that her knees buckle and he’s reaching for her then, embracing her as he’s only done once or twice before. He’s warm and smells like shitty gas station coffee and cigarettes- he still stress smokes, it would seem. 

“Come in…” Is all she says, drawing away and returning inside, holding the door open for him to come in after her. 

They stand there in the foyer for a long moment, he merely staring at her, words unable to form on his lips. He swallows, hesitantly reaching a hand out, fingertips trailing along her swollen lower lip, across the ugly bruise that stains her ivory skin black and blue. “When?” He asks, tight lipped and somber, a look in his eyes that she’s never seen before. 

“Yesterday…” She admits softly. “Right before I called you.”

Jon nods, taking in the information; he was who she called in her most desperate time of need. “Is it the first time?” He asks next and when she hesitates to answer, he knows it isn’t. “Where is he now?” His next question comes, palm cradling her cheek, his heart thumping so loudly he imagines she must be able to hear it plain as day. 

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “Maybe his parents house, maybe his flat,” she hasn’t seen nor heard from Joffrey since he stormed out of her place the day before. But, she knows it won’t last- he’ll return home eventually, perhaps with a huge bouquet of flowers, or perhaps a diamond tennis bracelet. Anything he can buy to get her to accept his apology, his tears and promises always enough to convince her that it would never happen again. “He has a place over by the University.” She pulls away, but Jon reaches for her hand, keeping her there. “Jon…” She begins, but sighs, shaking her head. “Thank you for coming.” 

 “I’m glad you called me…” Jon tilts his head and chuckles softly, drawing her back in for a tight embrace.

She will be safe from now on. 

[transmasc-rose]

Pinned Post

Hello, I'm Rose/Will/I collect names like trinkets (he/they/it), and this is my "Doctor Who sideblog"-turned-mainblog.

I do art/write meta/write fic/reblog things as I fancy them.

My ask box is open! I am happy to get asks about anything! I am a shy creature but I like to make friends.

Some tags I use are:

rose rambles- original posts

not doctor who- non-doctor Who posts. Won't always bother with this one when I'm on mobile.

spn- as on the tin

spn liveblog- I liveblog spn for the first time in 2024, feat. my pals Nyx and, when I'm lucky, Curtis

Trigger tags for your blocklist pleasure:

tw noncon, tw dubcon, tw gore, tw incest, nsfw, ask to tag (< please do if you need something tagged! Especially as I make my way through hit tv show spn lmao)

Hello Jon. Apologies for the deception, but i wanted to make sure you started reading,

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

I would love a letter from Scarecrow, addressed to a peppy fem s/o who's super into horror! With really bad anxiety and depression. Something romantic would be really nice. Feel free to get a little grim with it if you want! I know that's how Jon rolls.

Scarecrow Love Letter x fem!reader

Hello! Thank you for being the very first to send me in something for the valentines event I'm doing! I hope you enjoy a reassuring love letter from your spooky man

Tw: mentions of rot, death

To my dearest raven,

I'm leaving you this letter as I run out to my errands for the day. You were so peaceful sleeping, I couldn't think of waking you up. Yet, I felt the need to give something in my voice for you once you rolled out of bed. Yesterday was a poor day for you, especially as the night wore on. You apologized.

I don't want you to feel that need. You don't need feel guilt for having your bad days... they will happen. Like the storm that crashes along our banks, it will subside. We hold each others hands until it does. Your sun will come out, your beauty at its peak.

My girl, you bring light to the darkest voids of my existence. It is only right I should do the same for you. We complete each other in more ways than one. The perfect companion to the Master of Fear.

One day I hope we should rot together in perfect balance to the earth. Our graves will line with flowers and weeds, representations of ourselves as we were in life... But I hope to enjoy many more years with you before then. Just take my hand and we shall walk together.

I'll return home with food in the afternoon, and once I do, we'll have a marathon. I was thinking Hellraiser would be one you'd enjoy. But I'll be happy for whatever horror you decide to choose for us. Your taste in the genre truly matches my own.

Love,

Jonathan

[uths-ethnol-spam]

i've listened to MAG 158-159-160 in a perfect setting and just want to talk a bit about it

tw: animal death (rat) and a disturbing thing about it (it's the paragraph following me talking about mag 160 if you want to skip it, it really is not relevant)

spoilers for TMA season 4 finale

my experience listening to tma, there you go

i currently live in Paris. the autumn here lets the sinuous paved streets gleaming after the rain; the night falls early, and you quickly happen to walk under the yellow light of old street lamps, their glow slightly dimed by fog; when you know where to go, some places are almost devoid of people — and the cars are very rare. the sounds are mostly the Seine, the Canal Saint-Martin, your feet on the pavement, the wind, distant sounds from the city filtered by your headphones.

so i was walking in the 4th arrondissement, between Pont Marie, Sully Morland and l'île Saint-Louis, crossing some bridges, drinking hot tea as Martin dropped his actual first f-bomb, as Basira promised Daisy to kill her — and just couldn't stop wandering, as Jon entered the Lonely, searched for Martin, forced a statement out of Peter Lukas

(something funny did happened. i, well, gasped — really gasped — when Martin said “i really loved you”, but just had crossed path with a man, who turned back and stared at me, clearly concerned, and oh what a story like tma made me do)

(i told him “oh, pardon, c'est rien, désolé” and simply walked away)

then, mag 160; finally, i knew what the cows were about, why the sentence "hello Jon, apologies for the deception" is indeed iconic, and and i just fell into Jonah's clutches throughout his whole monologue.

when he was explaining the whole plan, i happened to walk on the corpse of a dead rat; they are not quite unusual here, though myself do not see rats often, actually; it was so bizarre, to feel its softness, and i did have an immediate body reaction, a shudder, and was a bit lightheaded right after; but it was thematically fitting. besides, it just reinforced the impression that it was just me, the town, and Jonah Magnus. a very... intimate journey, somehow

and then. well, the end (... no pun intended) happened. oh fuck. i had almost reach the Hôtel de Ville, and from where i was (les quais de Seine) i could see the very end of l'île Saint-Louis, where i was half an hour before, listening to Peter Lukas' statement; from there, you actually have a large view — you see all the sky. and oh. i actually stopped walking, and just stared. and it was brilliant

really, i don't think i could have had a better experience (besides, i don't walk enough these days, and doing so in Paris is always a good idea because the city is so cool)

anyway, i just wanted to talk about it, put it somewhere, because it was sick bordel vraiment incroyable, and it's great to commit it to memory

(there are. so, so, so much things at the end of the season. it is a very strong finale, probably my favourite, and i can't wait to finally listen to s5, though i do not want their story to end and leave them behind) (i won't, but... you know how it is)

[caniddteeth]

my two favorite lads!!

[pap-da-coconut]

Look me in the eye and tell me this image doesn´t scream [extended sounds of brutal pipe murder] 

i dare u

[usablehoney]

I Did Not See That Coming

[enxietty]

TW: Flashing images!!

 MAG 160 Vibes, good cows with a hint of deCEPTION.

I, BooBoo the Fool, listened to this episode while in class and proceeded to get absolutely nerfed, clowned and dunked on.

Here’s the visualizer of my brain now  

[dissonantaki]

Guys, I can’t believe I have to say this, but if you drug her, she’s not exactly going to be coming up with ideas for your plans.

“Don’t worry about it, anonymous. Everything is under control,” Ichika assured you, with an almost innocent expression smiling back. “Apologies for deceiving you all, by the way. We assumed you had connections to Akamatsu-san, so we didn’t want to say anything that you could use to try and get her not to come today. I admit, it was underhanded of us, but our plan worked, yes?”

[bubblegumholland]

Hold Me (Tom Holland X Reader)

A/n It’s been over a year since I’ve written. Honestly It’s been a hard year for me, and I realize for everyone. I know a lot of us need help, need someone. But don’t have the strength to do anything about it. So, this fic is just gonna be my way of coping. So read it or don’t. TW- Angst, depression, love

It been so long since you’ve felt secure. You had been finishing your last year of college and were losing any motivation to actually finish. Tom had been gone filming his movies like Cherry and the third installment of Spider-Man, and although you were so happy to see him living his dream, you couldn’t help but be sad that you were stuck with the unnerving feeling that you couldn’t. You were terrified with the idea that you wouldn’t make it, wouldn’t be good enough. Without any friends at school and very few friends from work you had just about no one. Becoming a writer was feeling impossible when you couldn’t bring yourself to write any words, no matter how long you stared at the empty document on your laptop. You knew you needed inspiration to write anything worth writing, but being locked in your home in silence, besides the occasional sounds from Tessa, left you feeling empty. Unmotivated. Fidgiting with your hands you decided to look through Instagram so see if you could find anything worth writing about, but upon opening the app you just found photos of celebrities living glamorous lives. The same people who told people to stay home were off in Hawaii or Mexico, places they certainly didn't live in. Enjoying sun, smiles, and friends. While you were left in your cold London flat. You sighed and closed the app after seeing set photos of Tom on some fan page. You really needed him and wished he was there with you. You settled for hearing his voice. The phone rang.

“Hello darling!” his chipper voice chimed after the third ring. You wiped the tear that you hadn’t realized had fallen before answering. “hey babe..” your voice was noticeably low. His energy immediately changed. 

“What’s wrong love?”

You couldn’t hold it in, a sob wracked your body and your cries filled the silence. “I-I’m sorry I promise I didn't call to cry I just-”

“Darling, don’t ever apologize for that. What’s happened?”

You didn’t know what to say, “I’m just- I can’t- I don't know what to do Tommy.”

He was quiet for a split second, “what to do about what love?”

“About this, about feeling like this. I can’t eat I can’t write I feel like I can’t function and I- I don’t know why. I feel so empty and lost and I feel like I can’t do anything about. I’m always sad I’m lonely I feel like I have no one and-”

“woah woah love, you have me”

“Yes, but I don’t have you here. And I’m not blaming you I love you and I know you’re working but it’s so hard to not feel alone when I wake up alone every day.”

“I’m so sorry love, I’ll be home next month and we will wake up together everyday I promise.”

You didn’t respond for a while. “I know.”

He sighed clearly upset now too. “I have to go Love but I will call you as soon as I can.” You nodded knowing he couldn’t see you. “Okay, I love you” 

“I love you too, talk soon babe” and the phone cut off. 

Another cry escaped your lips as you leaned back on the couch and closed your eyes, letting the darkness enclose around you. You slowly drifted into sleep, the tears still drying on your face and the frown still frozen on your mouth. You prayed tomorrow would be better. 

_____-

When you awoke there was the sound of the kettle in the kitchen going off. You immediately bolted up afraid you had left it on last night and fearing your kitchen was on fire. But you were shocked to see Tom pulling a mug out of your cupboard. “Tom?” you asked shakily. Not sure he was really there or if this was another cruel dream. “Love” He smiled and spun to face you. “Tom!” You shouted and bolted into his arms. His embrace had always been the most comforting, and the fact that you could feel his warmth embracing you proved he was real. “I wanted to let you sleep you seemed exhausted and I figured you-” You cut him off with a kiss, his lips were so perfect against yours. He melted into you and clutched you harder to him, as if letting go would mean you disappeared. “Never let me sleep when I could’ve been here with you.” You pulled away to say. His smile brightened the whole room despite the absence of light. “When I got off the phone with you I booked the first flight to London, I knew you needed me and I couldn’t be halfway across the world when you needed me to Hold you. Jon was so nice about it and said that this was a good week for me to leave as they needed to film the villain scenes so it-” You cut him off with another kiss. “Thank you Tom, I needed you to hold me so badly. I’ll never let you go again”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. “And I’ll never ask you too”

A/N It’s been so long since I’ve written I forgot how great it was to let my fingers run along the keyboard. 

[stonathans-stranger]

stonathan prompt: steve is mind possessed by the demogorgon and forced to fight jonathan, but j refuses to harm him. steve eventually comes to and realises hat he’s done but jonathan is already unconscious and bleeding on the ground (bonus if it’s raining for Dramatique Effect™️) thanks so much!!!

just reading this prompt made me laugh and want to cry at the same time, thank you for such a creative prompt!! TW for non descriptive gore in the beginning. Coming in at 1748 words, here’s “Take That Look From Off Your Face”, inspired by Don’t Look Back in Anger by Oasis, I highly suggest you listen to it while reading. (idk why but i read the prompt and this song immediately jumped to the front of my mind, the beat reminds me of rain and the lyrics remind me of jonathan for some reason) ANYWAYS 

Jonathan raced down the hallway, Dustin hot on his heels. The lights in the Lab were flashing, driving Jonathan nuts. Blood covered the walls, and bodies laid scattered on the floor, dressed in high military gear.

“Holy shit!” Dustin screamed, leaping over a body to keep up with Jonathan. Jonathan could hardly hear him over the blaring sirens. ‘Too little too late’, he thought. The place was fucking destroyed. Walls were crumbling, and ceiling tiles lay on the floor behind him and Dustin. The others, excluding Dustin, Nancy, Steve and himself were at Starcourt, including El.

The realization hit Jonathan too late.

“It’s here.” He shouted to no one in particular.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dustin yelled back.

“The monsters, they’re here. This isn’t El. This is something else.”

“Yeah, you fucking numbskull, just getting that now?” Dustin rolled his eyes mightily as they continued down the hallway, entering the lobby area. It was pouring outside, the drops of rain pattering against the windows, echoing throughout the lobby, sending chills down Jonathan’s spine as he panted, heaving breaths. Jonathan caught a glimpse of Nancy’s neon green shirt from outside, a stark contrast to the night she was surrounded by. She was wielding Steve’s bat, and Jonathan could see panic in her eyes.

“Dustin,” Jonathan turned to Dustin. “I need you to do me a favor, alright? I need you to stay right here. No matter what happens, you don’t go outside. Do you understand?” Jonathan knelt in front of Dustin so they could see eye to eye.

“Jonathan, I always help in fights, I can do this-”

“I know you could, but right now, you have way too much life ahead of you for me to risk that. Okay? So no matter what, I need you to stay right here, you don’t make a sound, you don’t move, no matter what happens to me or Nancy. Do you understand? You wait here til someone comes to get you.”

Dustin nodded, tears forming in his eyes.

“Everything’s gonna be fine.” Jonathan said, guiding Dustin behind the lobby desk, where he could crouch and hide. After, Jonathan took off running, bursting through the glass doors and into the downpour. Nancy turned to him, wide eyed, a cut running from her hairline to her eyebrow, dripping in blood. Steve stood behind her, distanced, his lip curling in a smile.

“Nice of you to join us, Jonny,”

“Jonathan, run.” The urgency in Nancy’s voice scared him, but he stayed put. He took a closer look at his boyfriend, whose neck was crawling with this black liquid traveling up into his face.

“Steve?” Jonathan said timidly. “What’s wrong with your neck?” He rushed over to Steve, ready to patch him up and take care of him, as Jonathan normally did.

Steve only laughed. As Jonathan neared Nancy, she stuck out and arm, refusing to let him go any further.

“The monster.” Nancy said, her voice quivering.

All the pieces began to fit in the puzzle for Jonathan.

The flashing lights, blaring sirens, the liquid.

“Steve.” He breathed, visibly deflating.

“Jo-on.” Steve said in a sing-song voice.

“Don’t.” Nancy said. “He’ll draw you in just to try to beat your ass.” She pointed to the cut on her forehead. “I’d know.”

“Don’t listen to her.” Steve said through gritted teeth. “When has she ever told you the truth?” Steve crept closer. “Tell me, Jonathan, the last time you trusted her.” He tucked the piece of Jonathan’s bang that always fell in his face behind his ear. He felt like Steve, but the words coming out of his mouth weren’t his.

“Please,” Jonathan sighed. “Give me Steve back.” Steve cupped Jonathan’s cheek, smiling. Then, he jerked his arm back, and Jonathan felt a sting on the side of his cheek. He stumbled backwards in surprise, holding his cheek.

“Steve, fucking stop.” Nancy’s words were steel, but not enough to coax whatever had a hold on him out. Steve slammed a fist into Jonathan’s stomach, fully knocking him on his ass. “Steve!” She cried again as he straddled Jonathan, bearing down on him as the rain poured. The rain soaked ground coated Jonathan’s arms in mud. Steve landed punch after punch on Jonathan’s face, busting his lip, bruising his cheek, tearing at the skin on his forehead.

“Too tired to fight, Jonny-boy?” Steve said, hardly breaking a sweat.

“I’m not gonna fight you.” Jonathan said, his voice weak and cracking.

“Why the hell not?” Steve roared, standing up. “Maybe it’s the cowardice finally getting to you, huh?”

“Maybe.” Jonathan groaned. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I love you. Either way, I won’t fight you. I won’t hurt you.” Steve kicked at Jonathan.

“Fucking stop!” Nancy cried out. “Fucking stop it! You’re gonna fucking kill him!”

Steve kicked him again, and again, and again, the blows coming in time with the rain hitting Jonathan’s face. After five more kicks, Jonathan’s head lolled to the side, and his body went limp. Nancy shoved Steve out of the way, realizing Jonathan was on the brink of death. She sent him into the mud, scrambling to regain his balance.

“Jonathan!” She screamed. She used her arm to prop him up, and took his pulse.

Weak, but there.

“…Nancy?” She swiveled around to see Steve holding his head, the black disappearing from his neck. “Jonathan! What the fuck?” He rushed to Jonathan’s other side. “Did I black out? What the fuck? Is he okay? We need to get him to the hospital now.”

“Steve.” Nancy swallowed.

He looked to her, and her eyes swelling with tears, the blood on her forehead becoming eerily apparent to himself.

“No.” He breathed. “Nancy. Please tell me I didn’t do this.”

“Go get Dustin.”

“Nancy-”

“Go get Dustin!” She yelled. “I’ll take him to the car.”

Steve did as he was told, entering the Lab, where no light could be found. He found Dustin crouched under the lobby desk, tears staining his cheeks.

“C’mon.” Dustin rushed into Steve’s arms, and Steve held him for a five count. “We really have to go, Dusty.”

He followed Steve to the car silently, and he took shotgun, while Steve supported Jonathan ins the backseat, crying silently, holding him to his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Nance.” Steve sobbed. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It wasn’t you.” Nancy said, and Steve could hear the tears in her own voice. “You didn’t do that.”

It took them fifteen minutes to reach the hospital from the outskirts of Hawkins, and the rain pounded on the windows the whole ride there, which is when Steve realized he, Nancy and Jonathan were completely soaked and mudstained. Nancy pulled up to the hospital curb, letting Steve get out, and unlocking Dustin’s door so he could help with Jonathan. Steve carried Jonathan into the hospital, bridal-style.

“Someone help him, please,” he sobbed weakly. The receptionist and the nurse standing behind her rushed to their side, lowering Jonathan to the ground, and another receptionist ushered Steve away, to give Jonathan room. “Help him,” he cried at the receptionist guided him to the waiting room.

After what felt like hours, but was just a half hour, Steve figured he’d call Joyce. He slid two quarters into a payphone at the hospital, and dialed the Byers’s number. He prayed somebody, anybody would be there.

On the fifth ring, someone picked up.

“Byers residence, this is Joyce speaking.” She sounded so tired, so physically exhausted. It pained Steve to know he had to tell Joyce her son was dying and that he was the sole cause.

“Joyce, uh, this is Steve. I’m calling from the hospital.”

“Hospital! Steve, sweetie, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s Jonathan. He’s…in pretty bad shape. He took a rough beating.” Steve’s voice cracked, and tears began spilling down his face again. “I’m so sorry, Joyce.” He cried into the phone.

“You hold on. I’ll be there in forty, okay? Do you like chocolate milk or water?”

“Water is fine.”

“I’ll be there in forty minutes. You just stay put, okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

“Okay.” And with that Steve hung up, and took his place in the waiting room. About twenty minutes later, a doctor came to get Steve.

“Hello, Steve is it?” He only nodded, fearing the worst. “My name is Doctor Otto Keebler, and I’m taking care of Jonathan currently. We have him on a morphine drip, and we got stitches in him. Lucky for him, no broken bones, but he does have a sprained wrist.  He’s still unconscious, but the morphine should wake him up. Would you like to come see him?”

“Yes! Yes.” Steve said. He followed Doctor Keebler back to Jonathan’s room, where he lay, completely still. His wrist was wrapped in pink tape, and it had a brace over it. His forehead was stitched up, and his lip and other places that weren’t stitched were scabbing over.

“I’m going to go check on another patient.” The doctor said, leaving Steve with Jonathan. He took a seat on Jonathan’s right, so he could hold his uninjured hand. Only a few moments after Doctor Keebler left, Jonathan’s eyes began to flutter open.

“Steve?” he groaned.

“Oh my God, Jon,” Steve took a kneeling position by his side. “I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so sorry, Jon, I promise I never meant to hurt you I just-”

“Shh.” Jonathan silenced Steve. “I know.” Tears spilt out of Steve’s eyes and down his face. Steve didn’t care to wipe them off. Jonathan squeezed Steve’s hand as he sobbed into Jonathan’s sleeve.

“I’m so damn sorry.” He apologized profusely. Jonathan scooted over in the hospital bed and patted the spot next to him, and Steve took the offer graciously, climbing in next to Jonathan, still crying. He held Jonathan, the tears beginning to dry.

“At least I’m in dry, not muddy clothes anymore, right?” Jonathan chuckled to himself, trying to get Steve to crack a smile. “Hey, listen. You’re okay. I’m okay. That wasn’t you, Stevie. You would never hurt me. Never in a million years, I know that. That was a fucking monster. You, Steven Gregory Harrington, are not a monster. You’re a hell of a boyfriend and a damn good babysitter and I’m completely and hopelessly in love with you and no godforsaken inter-dimensional monster is gonna change that. Got it?”

Steve only nodded, burrowing further into the crook of Jonathan’s neck.

                                                    Forgiveness

                            ��                   Can you imagine?

                                                    Forgiveness

                                                Can you imagine?

Bonus: Songs I Listened To While Writing This

Don’t Look Back In Anger - Oasis

I Believe, I Don’t Do Sadness/Blue Wind, Left Behind - Spring Awakening Soundtrack

bad guy - Billie Eilish

Sign of the Times - Harry Styles (happy two years, SOTT!!)

Shrike - Hozier