#well okay there are going to be at least three deaths in this situation. laughing crying emoji

[babyimyurs]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

~

Hwang in-ho ( the frontman ) x reader.

A/N: this will be a multi series. haven’t proof read

Warnings: nothing. I’m sure if you watched squid game you’ll be fine with this.

opening: you have been working alongside gi-hun for years after he came out of the games, after hearing his story it connected a few dots from your older brothers disappearance. After arriving at the games you found out that both of yours and gi-hun’s tracker implants have gone missing, you came face to face with your biggest nightmare… playing the game.

-

After playing red light, green light you hoped that you didn’t have to wake up the next day, you had no clue that a simple children’s game could have that amount of blood and death in it. After agreeing that you would join gi-hun’s plan, he told you all about the rule that ‘when your eliminated, your gone for good’ you didn’t really believe him but now you definitely do.

a part of you also wondered how long your brother survived.. a day? two? three? you wish you could of just slapped him silly and got him a job in your coffee shop. But- here you was awakening by the sound of classical music playing out of a speaker and metal squeaking as all the players started to move around in their bed.

you woke feeling not tired at all, not even doing the usual ‘rubbing your eyes and yawning’. Probably due to your lack of sleep or the amount of trauma you got from the day previous.

“y/n.. hey.. y/n” you heard a voice, a familiar one.. a frantic gi-hun was standing next to your bed, tapping your arm. “gi-hun, you okay?” you said which gi-hun replied with a shrug as he looked around at the players. “your telling me that everytime we wake up we’re going to hear that music?” you huffed, looking up at the speakers. “trust me, that should be the least of your worry.. I still can’t figure out how they managed to get our tracking chips” gi-hun said, now looking at you with a face of absolute confusion.

“players please line up in two cues to get breakfast” a woman’s voice from a speaker said in her usual happy tone. “come on, maybe a bite to eat will make us think” gi-hun proposed hitting the metal post of your bed, waiting for you to get up and join a line.

upon waiting in the cue, you and gi-hun got a load of looks and whispers.. few that said “look there’s the mad man” , “do you think they are a couple?” , “a nearly died because of that punk shouting”. you both ignored them and soon enough you received a bread roll and a carton of milk.

“hey y/n.. take my milk, you know my stomach doesn’t take it well” gi hun said, handing over his carton as you both took a seat on some steps next to jungbae and dae ho. you got to know the guys after red light, green light, gi-hun introduced jungbae to you saying that they were friends outside the game and well dae ho.. introduced himself to group after hearing over the discussion on what the next game could be which will now happen after the big vote that went on. That’s right. The vote. most of the players after red light, green light started begging to let them go and it ended with a massive vote to either stay or go and of course majority said stay.

“excuse me..” a voice approached the group, your wasn’t very familiar with it but after looking up it was the guy that came over to gi-hun after the vote, young-ill his name was.

“you all wouldn’t mind if I joined this group? a lot of players are talking about the next game being a team game. most of the groups formed already are teams of five and there are only four of y-“ young-ill said before getting dramatically cut off by dae ho “yes! you look very strong and have good thinking! reminds me of a pal i had when i was in the marines!” he said, putting his arm around his shoulder and patting his head.

you laughed, finding the situation of how dae ho was younger than young-ill and still acting like the oldest funny. “of course, take a seat” gi-hun said, his tone not one hundred percent certain on this guy as he gave you a look of ‘keep a eye on him’.

“I say why not! what about you y/n can 001 join us?” Jungbae asked to which you just shrugged and looked over at the group “I don’t mind..” you said which got a kind smile off young-ill.

“Well welcome welcome double one!” dae ho said, looking over at young-ill as he took a bite out of his bread roll. “ah.. Thank you” young-ill replied, taking a look at everyone but lingering on you suspiciously long. “I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation before.. wanna take my milk too? I’m in the same situation as 456” young-hill said, looking over at you.. passing his carton of milk over to you.

You looked at him for a moment before shaking your head with a smile “thank you, but I think dae ho wants it more than me” you replied, pointing over to dae ho who was staring at the milk carton like he was an lion eyeing up its prey. Young- ill understood and nodded passing it over to dae ho instead.. his smile dropping almost like he was planning to give you the milk from the start.

“All players please make your way to the game hall.. the next game will be starting shortly” an announcement called out from the speaker which gave you a fright, spilling the milk that you was drinking on yourself. “fuck!” You groaned out of annoyance, taking your zip up jumper off and throwing it besides you as you and your team stood up.

you started to walk to the game hall before young-ill couldn’t help himself but approach you “you’ve got some- may I?” He said, pointing to your chin which had a white stripe of milk running down it. how embarrassing. Before you could answer young-ill had already brought his jumpers wrist and wipe it off for you.

“there you go..” he said, looking at you with a kind smile. “thank you, I didn’t realise- that could of been embarrassing” you said getting a little too flustered in the moment, you couldn’t lie to yourself he was attractive. “ah.. it was nothing, don’t thank me.. okay?” he said, looking up at your eyes before glancing down to your lips in a quick motion. you nodded, noticing the look and shaking the intimate motion off completely by hitting his shoulder and walking ahead “we’re going to be late! come on!”.

young-ill watched you walk off out of the door, now being left in the holding room with a bunch of guards. “whatever you do, keep that one safe..” he said, which in return got a bunch of nods and with that he walked out the door too.

// ahhh! okay this was my first ever fic on here and why not make it a inho x reader because that man is the death of me at the moment. hopefully part two won’t take long to come out since I do have coursework to do and all but also let me know if you guys have any squidgame one shot ideas you’d want to request me to write :)

[hsslilly-blog]

when claire got that abortion i’d love to think she was very claire about it and went kill that thing girl! but in reality i think it scared her to death. being pregnant i mean.

[stevie-petey]

episode eight: the battle of starcourt

He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. “Shit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Own any red bikinis?” You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.” “I can sleep right now and find out–” “I will flick you again.” “A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”

Summary: jonathan becomes a certified surgeon, hopper returns and is oddly sentimental (wonder what that could mean !), you and dustin show off your musical theater talents, the mind flayer becomes a track star, fireworks become weapons, and really a lot just happens so suddenly it gives you whiplash. dont worry though, the rest of your summer involves painful goodbyes and the scary realization that youre growing up. absolutely disgusting. but at least steve gets to kiss you whenever now, so hooray for that ! side note: you keep making promises to people, surely there wont be narrative foreshadowing as a result !

Rating: general, violence and swearing

Warnings: blood, swearing, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 21.2k (ouch)

Before you swing in: this was my magnum opus. truly. so so so much happens in this chapter, this episode is INSANE. it took me a while, the scenes were hard and complex, but im happy with the final results :) ive been waiting a long time to write this ending, to set up the strings for later in season 4 <3 i sincerely hope this chapter is all yall have wanted. if theres any glaring typos, pls ignore because its 21.2k words and im weak from rereading it. anyways, i have a sneaky lil link right here that will make sense at the end of the chapter (spoiler alert: it's a mixtape jonathan makes for bug). enjoy !

-

El’s screams tear out of her body. She writhes in pain, sobs claw out of her throat. It’s unbearable to watch, the sight of her in immeasurable pain. It breaks your heart. 

No one knows what to do. 

Mike thrashes in your arms still. He tries to escape your hold so that he can cover his body with El’s. Take away her pain somehow. But you won’t let him. You know that it hurts him to see her this way, but his panic will only drive El’s panic further.

“What is that?” Disgust litters Erica’s face as she stares at the moving creature within El’s leg. Gently you push the girl away, not wanting to crowd El too much. She needs space to breathe. 

“There’s something in her leg,” Mike sneers into your face as he fights against you again. He’s furious, he’s overwhelmed, he just wants to help. “Let go!”

Your arms tighten around the boy. He isn’t in the right state of mind. Frantic, you look to your left and start forming a plan. “Jonathan, my switchblade is in my left back pocket. Grab it.” He stares at you, unsure what to do, and you raise your voice into a yell. “Grab it.”

Jonathan jumps at the command and his hand disappears behind you. You feel him find the weapon and pull it out. He holds it in front of you, offering it, but you don’t accept it. “Go and disinfect it. There’s a gas stove where you found us. Heat up the blades so that we can–” you swallow as nausea fills you. “We–we have to cut it out of her leg.”

The moment Jonathan is gone, you turn your attention to Mike and Steve. You try to keep your voice leveled, try to contain the blinding panic that screams in your head. El needs you right now. Swallowing again, you start to speak to them. “I need you guys to talk to El. Keep her awake.”

“Right, okay.” Mike nods, and you finally release him. He hovers over El, his voice is gentle as he tries to calm her. “Hey, stay awake, okay?”

You tug Steve towards El’s legs so that he can help you move her into a better position. “Get her onto her side. Mike, put her head in your lap.”

Both boys do as they’re told. Everyone watches, and Robin tries to make light of the situation. She rambles about a girl from her soccer team who once broke her leg. How the bone had ripped clean through her skin. The story makes you shiver, and Steve sees the discomfort. “Robin, hey. You’re not helping.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jonathan returns, out of breath. “Okay. Alright, El?” He looks down at the girl. Tries to steady his breathing. “This is gonna hurt like hell, okay?”

El whimpers out that she understands, and you take hold of her hand. “Sweetheart, you need to brace yourself. I promise it will be over soon.”

“I’ll be fast, but I need you to stay real still. Here,” Jonathan hands a wooden spoon to Mike. “You’re gonna want to bite down on this, okay?”

Teeth bared, El clenches her teeth around the spoon. Her body braces for what’s about to come. Kneeling next to her, you angle your body over hers and pin her arms down with your hands. You look at Mike, ordering him to do the same. “Hold her shoulders. Don’t let her go, no matter what.”

He pales, but swallows deeply and nods. When Mike is in position, you signal to Jonathan to start cutting. “Do it.”

“Okay,” Jonathan inhales. The knife you’ve given him shakes as he holds it over El’s wound. He’s fucking terrified, but he knows it’s the only way. Exhaling, he cuts into her flesh. Blood pours from the wound and El’s screams tear from her chest. 

Everyone makes a sound of disgust and horror. Your own stomach lurches at the sight of Jonathan cutting into the leg. The image, the way El’s body convulses, the screams she releases, it’s all too much. You don’t feel yourself shaking until Steve guides your head into the nook of his shoulder, shielding you. 

“Thank you,” your breathing is shaky. You aren’t even sure if he’s heard you, but Steve nods and his hand rubs up and down your back. He’s doing whatever he can to help, being the solid surface you need to lean upon. Lending you the strength you need to hold El down and save her. 

You hear your knife glance against the ground, followed by El’s scream becoming deafening. Unable to stop yourself, you pull away from Steve to look at what’s happening. When you do, you almost gag. Jonathan’s fingers are now in El’s leg, digging underneath the flesh and muscle to find whatever the hell is in there. A horrible squelching sound fills the air. Faintly you think you can hear Will crying behind you. 

Jonathan struggles, digs deeper into the leg, but it only seems to be making everything worse. El twists and contorts beneath you, in agonizing pain. Her screams only intensify. A tear from your eye lands on her shirt, and you force yourself to hold her down despite how desperately you want to end it.

“Goddamn it!” Jonathan can’t find it. He can’t find whatever the hell is in El’s leg. It keeps moving the moment he thinks he has it. Everything is slick from blood. 

“No!” El spits out the wooden spoon, her voice raw from screaming. “Stop it!” 

You can’t stomach her pain any longer. The moment she pleads for it to stop, you move off of El and push Jonathan away from her. Nancy helps, touches his shoulder to alert him as well. The moment she has the room to, El sits herself up. “I can do it.

“Do what, El?” You ask, though you think you know anyways.

She breathes heavily. Tears flow freely down her face. She’s sitting down, one of her knees is pressed against her chest. The injured leg remains flat on the ground, her hand outstretched above it. Static, the one you always feel when El uses her powers, surrounds you. There’s a low hum, she grunts and screams, and yet her hand remains steady. You rub her back, offering her all the strength you can give her, in awe despite the poor timing of it. 

To have the strength to expel a foreign object from your body. You can’t imagine it. 

El releases one final long, harrowing scream. The lights flicker, the windows behind you rattle violently. You only just barely manage to cover Dustin and the kids from the shards of glass before they explode. At the same time, a small, writhing creature shoots from El’s leg. It stalls in the air, hovering in front of her face as she continues to scream. The creature is no bigger than the size Dart had been when Dustin first found him. The idea that it had been buried in El’s leg makes you feel ill. 

With the last of her energy, El flings the creature across the room. It lands with a sickening thud on the floor, before it starts to move. You watch in horror as it scurries away, releasing its own screech, until Hopper’s boot crashes down upon it, killing it. 

You’ve never been happier to see that cranky son of a bitch. 

Joyce stands behind him and you whimper pathetically when you see her. You miss your own mother. It’s been days since you’ve last seen her. You’re more homesick than you’ve ever been before. 

Alongside Joyce and Hopper is a man you’ve never seen before. He has glasses and a beard. As you study him, Jonathan makes a surprised sound. “Murray?”

“You know him?” 

Jonathan nods at you. “He’s the detective Nance and I visited last year.” 

“He’s insane.” Nancy says, though there’s a nostalgic smile on her face. 

Hopper steps forward, investigating the scene. Glass crunches beneath his boots. He stops in front of you and El. He looks down at you. “Always at the scene of the crime, huh?”

“Yeah,” you blow hair out of your face. “Can’t seem to ever stop myself.” Then, finally noticing his aggressively bright and floral shirt that he’s wearing, you tilt your head to the side. “Nice shirt, by the way. I like the color on you. You’ve been direly needing some color in your life.”

Dustin snorts and El manages a tired smile. Hopper rolls his eyes at you, though you can tell it’s more from fondness rather than annoyance like it usually is. You watch as his eyes drift towards Joyce, uncharacteristically shy. “Thanks, kid.”

“Anytime, old man.” 

– 

“The Mind Flayer, it built this monster in Hawkins, to stop El, to kill her and pave a way into our world.” 

You sit on the fountain’s edge. Dustin is next to you, Steve leans against you on the other side. Mike’s words surround you. 

He explains what he and the others have been dealing with while you’ve been gone. Innocent people have been getting possessed and turned into chemicalized substances. Their bodies melting together, conjoining to create a monster meant to kill El. With every detail Mike remembers, your stomach twists uncomfortably. It doesn’t sound real. It sounds like a thing from nightmares.

And somehow Billy has become the face of it. 

The last time you saw him, he had been a shell of who he used to be. He had been in pain. Obvious pain. Sweat had run down his flushed skin and his eyes had a frost in them unlike anything you had ever seen before. Instead of helping him, instead of telling anyone about this, you had abandoned Billy. 

“How big is this thing?” Hopper asks, shifting so that El can rest more comfortably against him. 

Jonathan sighs. “It’s… It’s big. Real big. Thirty feet, at least.”

“You’ve seen it?” Your eyes draw to the bruise on his forehead. The pained noise he made when you hugged him still rings in your ears. 

“We’ve had a rough night.” Nancy whispers, eyes downcast. 

“It sorta destroyed Hopper’s cabin.” Lucas looks up at the chief, a poorly feigned apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry.”

Steve interjects now. He asks questions, tries to make sure he understands. As he speaks with the group, your head falls onto his shoulder. Your head spins. Only hours ago you were dealing with Russians and national emergencies. Now, you and Steve try to wrap your heads around the idea of a giant human goo creature wreaking havoc on Hawkins.  

Which, according to Max, is still very much alive. 

But that doesn’t stop Will from trying to help. “But if we close the gate again–” 

“We cut the brain off from the body.”

“And kill it.” Lucas finishes for Max. “Theoretically.”

It sounds so simple, but you’ve been here before.

You’ve heard this conversation already; you were standing in the Byers’ dining room. Steve had been next to you, just like he is now, and Jonathan had been on your other side. The people surrounding you were the same, only now Robin and Will join. That November, the conversation had terrified you. Closing the gate. Killing the Mind Flayer and destroying its army. 

It had been the exact same conversation. And it terrifies you still, now. Only this time the fear is accompanied by an emptiness.

You’ve been here before. It hadn’t been enough. 

“How many more times are we going to kill it?” Your head remains pressed against Steve. Your eyes don’t lift from the ground. Exhaustion sags your body. “We thought we already killed the Mind Flayer. We went through hell and back to close the gate, only for it to be opened again not even a year later. By another country. I mean,” laughter crawls out of your throat. “Who’s to say that they won’t just open the gate again? They’ve already done it once–”

“Loverboy over here,” The bearded man from earlier, Murray, suddenly appears and slaps the back of Jonathan’s head. The man has a mad smile on his face, the kind that tells you he’s an insane genius. After Jonathan shoves him away, Murray stops in front of you. He looks down, a curious glint in his eyes. “He told me you were a ray of sunshine. Gotta be honest. I’m not really getting a real sunshine vibe from you.”

Steve subtly shifts your body so that he’s in front of you. His eyes are narrowed, body tense. “What’s that in your hands?”

Murray seems to now remember what he interrupted the group for. He clutches the pieces of paper in his hands, waves them in the air. “Ah. These, my perfectly coiffed haired friend, are blueprints.” 

“That’s just a poorly done drawing of squares and lines.” You squint at the papers. They’re no better than the map Mike had scribbled to navigate the tunnels last year.

“Seriously,” Murray turns back to Jonathan again. “I thought she was supposed to be the nice one.”

You open your mouth to argue, not at all liking whatever this random man is insinuating, but Hopper steps forward first. “Just start talking.”

He sighs, but agrees. Motioning everyone to follow, Murray guides the group to a nearby table so that he can lay his drawings out for everyone to see. “Okay, this is what Alexei called ‘the hub’.” Murray points to the center of the first drawing. “Now, the hub takes us to the vault room.”

“Okay, where’s the gate?” Hopper hovers over him, attentive. 

“Right here.” Murray now points to a random box, far from where you know the gate actually is. You bite your lip, unsure if you should speak up just yet. “I don’t know the scale on this, but I think it’s fairly close to the vault room. Maybe fifty feet or so.”

You snort obnoxiously loud, getting everyone’s attention. “You’re so wrong that it physically pains me.”

“I’m sorry?” Murray gives you an odd look. When Jonathan and Nancy showed up on his doorstep last year, the two of them had nothing but great things to say about you. Jonathan had waxed poetry about you while Nancy had sat at the dinner table, resentful. Now, meeting you, Murray is really struggling to understand where that all came from. 

“It’s more like five hundred feet.” Erica says. When she sees Murray’s exasperated expression, she can’t help but laugh at the old man. “What, you’re just gonna waltz in there like it’s commie Disneyland or something?” 

“And who are you?” 

“Erica Sinclair. And who are you?”

“Murray… Bauman.”

“Listen, Mr. Bunman.” You have to stifle a laugh into Steve’s shoulder. You love Erica, you really do. “I’m not trying to tell you how to do things, but I’ve been down in that shithole for twenty-four hours. And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, you’re all gonna die.”

“I’m sorry, why is this four year old speaking to me?”

You slide off the fountain’s edge and stand. Whoever this guy is, you don’t like his snippy attitude. “She’s ten, actually, and she’s right.”

“Yeah, you bald bastard!” Lucas reprimands her, but she doubles down. “Just the facts!”

While you enjoy her quips, you gently grab Erica’s shoulders and place her behind you. There isn’t time for her to make a grown man cry. “We went through hell down there. It won’t be as easy as walking fifty feet. The place is huge.”

“They’re right.” Dustin speaks up. “You’re all gonna die, but you don’t have to. Excuse me, may I?” Even before Murray has consented, your brother is already grabbing the blueprints. He sits down and starts explaining. “See this room here? This is a storage facility. There’s a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system.”

“It’s how we accidentally got in.” You add, figuring any extra information could help.

“Wait, you accidentally broke into a secret Russian lair?” Mike tries to hide it, but you can see that he’s impressed. You know that once this is all over, he’ll grill you for details later.

“No, we thought it’d be fun to get tortured by commies on the fourth of July.” Steve points to his swollen eye. “Yes, Wheeler. It was an accident.”

“Guys!” Dustin shouts. When he has everyone’s attention again, he sighs. “Jesus. Anyways, these vents will lead you to the base of the weapon. It’s a bit of a maze down there, but between me, Y/N, and Erica, we can show you the way.” 

Hopper stares down at the three of you, unamused. “You can show us the way?”

Dustin is about to agree, but you cover his mouth with your hand. “Yes, I can show you the way. The kids can stay here, but I remember everything from when we were down there. If you want all the hero glory, then fine. Fight some Russians. But I can be your navigator.”

“No.” Hopper, Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan say at the same time. 

You roll your eyes at all of them. “Okay, I was only talking to Hopper. The rest of you,” you glare at your brother and the two teens next to him. “Aren’t a part of this conversation.”

“There isn’t a conversation to be had, kid.” Hopper scoffs at you. He doesn’t want to hear whatever you’re about to say. He won’t let you back down there again. From the state Steve is in, Hopper doesn’t even want Joyce coming with him. “You’re not going. End of discussion.”

“You don’t seriously expect me to let you walk into a death trap, right? I mean, I know we argue a lot, but you can’t be that dumb.” Hopper has started to walk away now, trying to put an end to the conversation, but you follow him anyways. “Listen to me!” He ignores you, doesn’t turn around. Instead, Hopper starts gathering bullets as he picks up a shotgun from one of the guards on the ground. Groaning, you continue to chase him. 

You don’t care how annoying you’re being. You’ll nag him until your last dying breath. If he doesn’t want you getting hurt, then he has to understand that you don’t want him getting hurt either. “Hopper, I’m serious. El…” You look at the girl, who is far behind the two of you now as she rests near the fountain. Your voice grows thick. A wave of emotions rush over you, seeing her. She’s so small. She’s still just a kid, despite the power that lies within her. “She needs you. You–you can’t get hurt.”

“And I won’t.” 

“You don’t know that,” you grab the man’s shirt, but he tries to walk anyways. You plant your feet on the ground and grit your teeth. He’s frustratingly strong. “Please, just–you’re her father. You–you can’t leave her–” You stumble over your words, try to think of how to convince him. There has to be a way, a middle ground. Isn’t he the one who taught El what compromise means? 

In your nagging midst, you overhear Dustin and the party all catch up. Talk about how they missed one another. It’s a sweet reunion, seeing them come together again after being separated for so long; your boys are together again. It feels like a lifetime ago where they were all together on Weathertop hill. Seeing them together again, it hits you. 

The walkies. Cerebro.

“What if I could still communicate with you from above?” You shout, frantic. Hopper stops walking. He still doesn’t look at you, but he indicates that you have his attention. Taking a deep breath, you don’t waste any time. “We have walkies. Dustin, all the kids. It’s how they communicate with one another. Always have. What if… what if I give you directions using them? That way, you’ll fulfill your annoying need to be a hero while I fulfill my annoying need to protect everyone.”

Your words come rushing out, messy and jumbled, but Hopper seems to understand. He’s quiet, mulls what you’ve said over and over again in his head. He inhales, closes his eyes, and then exhales agonizingly slow. When he opens his eyes to look at you, he’s resolved. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

A relieved smile graces your face. Knowing you’ve gotten through to Hopper, you finally release his shirt. You straighten it back out, wipe some dirt off of it. It really is a good shirt, one you know was almost definitely purchased for a woman named Joyce Byers. “It adds to my charm.”

Hopper chuckles, shakes his head, before walking over to where your brother stands with the others. He fishes a walkie from his back pocket, tosses a spare one to Dustin. “Hey, heads up. Your sister came up with a shockingly genius compromise. You guys can navigate, just from someplace safe.”

Dustin sighs. “It’s not that simple.”

“The signal won’t reach.” Erica clarifies for him. 

You motion at them to explain faster. “But…”

“But,” Dustin quickly explains your idea. “We’d need something with a high enough frequency band to relay with the Russians’ radio tower. But for that to work, you need someone who has both seen their comms room and has access to a super-powered handcrafted radio–”

“Dustin,” you hit his shoulder, urging him to get to the point already. “Just tell him about Cerebro.”

“I was getting there! Look, we have one already situated at the highest point in Hawkins.” Your brother shakes his head. “If you need us to navigate, we got you. But we need a head start… and a car.”

“Hey, chief.” You stand beside Hopper now, grinning ear to ear. “Don’t you have a car?”

He stares past you, and the rage in his eyes amuses you immensely. It’s taking everything within him not to start yelling, which only causes your shit eating grin to grow. You extend your arm, hold your hand out palm-facing upwards. This is the best day of your life. “Come on, give me the car keys, Hopper.” 

Sucking his teeth, Hopper drops the car keys into your hand. “I hate you.”

Hopper stands in front of you, annoyance and irritability in his eyes as he stares at you, but you don’t care. A surge of warmth cascades through you instead. He listened. It means more to you than the man could ever know. Your arms find their way around him, surprising both you and Hopper, as you pull him into a hug. “Thank you for listening to me.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t make me regret it.” Hopper says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, allows his hand to pat your shoulder. He may not know what you’ve gone through, but he thinks he can understand the weight the history has left you. It’s the same weight that he carries every day. The guilt, the anger that follows it. He clears his throat again and pulls you off of him, keeping you at arm’s length. “Do me a favor, will you? Make sure El and the others are safe.”

You sniff, wipe away tears. You’re not sure why you’re crying. “I will, I promise. Good luck, old man.”

“Good luck, kid.” He hesitates, still holding your shoulders. His breath hitches and his eyes don’t leave yours. There’s something in them, almost a certain kindness that once reflected in your father’s eyes when you were younger. The gaze burns you at first, but you stare back at Hopper through it. After he seems to find what he’s looking for, Hopper swallows. He says what Joyce has always said about you; from his conversation with the woman back at Melvald’s. “You’re the best of them.”

More tears well in your eyes, but you wipe them away before he can tease you. Hopper releases you, shoves you in a playful manner, and you can’t help but laugh. It’s a warm moment. His words simmer on your skin. You’ve heard them before, you know what people say about you, but the words are different coming from Hopper. 

Praise doesn’t come naturally to him. Words have always plagued him; the ones he has just told you hold a weight that’s even heavier than the guilt the two of you carry within yourselves. You’ve known Jim Hopper for three years now, but as you watch him walk over to El, soft smile still on his face from his conversation with you, you finally understand him. 

–

Steve is waiting for you at the fountain, whispering quietly with Robin. The two of them stand off to the side, away from the others. He’s nervous, uncomfortable. He stands with his back away from Jonathan and Nancy, who are a few feet away talking to Murray. His arms are crossed over his chest and his fingers tap together in an anxious tick you’ve become familiar with. 

The moment he sees you approaching, all the tension in Steve’s body melts away. 

He grabs your hand the second you’re within reach. Pulling you into his chest, he kisses the top of your head. “Any updates, angel?”

You hum against him, allowing yourself a moment to bask in his warmth. It’s been a long day. It’ll be an even longer night. “You know Weathertop hill?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Good.” You place Hopper’s keys into Steve’s hand. “You’re driving us, then.”

Robin points at Jonathan, who sneaks glances at the three of you. “Define ‘us’. Because, no offense, he seems nice and all, but he keeps looking over at you like a lost puppy and it’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Be nice, he’s still my best friend.” Flicking her forehead, you silently scold Robin. “And it’s just going to be the three of us with Dustin and Erica. Jonathan and Nancy are taking the rest of the kids to Murray’s bunker. He’s just… He’s worried. Probably wants to make sure he says goodbye to me before we leave.”

Robin makes a confused face, reminding you that she’s new to all of this. That she hasn’t had to say goodbye to her loved ones every year with the fear of them not returning. You sigh. “It’s… Kinda a tradition, at this point. A final goodbye before all hell breaks loose.”

“How many times do you guys almost die on a weekly basis?”

Steve snorts. “Depends on the month. November seems to be our worst one, though.”

“Astounding…”

You leave Steve to deal with Robin’s amazement on his own, though you laugh as you walk away. Ever since the events of Will’s disappearance, you’ve done everything you can to not think about what you’ve all been through. However, seeing the bewildered amazement on Robin’s face the more you reveal to her, you can’t help but laugh. 

Jonathan sees you approaching him and Nancy and steps aside to make room for you. They’re still talking to Murray, although the man is more lecturing them than anything. He holds up a bunch of keys, explaining in great detail which one goes into specific locks. It’s dizzying trying to keep track of it all. 

Secretly, you’re grateful that you’re going with Steve and the others. Easier key instructions. 

“This one is for the second to last bottom lock–”

“Murray, can I cut in real quick?” You try to be polite about it, but truly you don’t care whether or not you have the man’s permission. 

He glares at you. “Aren’t you already?”

“Good point!” You grab Nancy’s and Jonathan’s arms and pull them away with a wicked smile on your face. When you’ve dragged them far enough away from Murray, you wrap your arms around them both. Jonathan sinks into the unexpected embrace. Nancy stiffens. You try to ignore it. “Get to that old man’s bunker safely, please?”

“Of course, bug.” Jonathan has wrapped an arm around you. He closes his eyes, his fingers span across your back. “Stay at Weathertop, get to safety. Maybe even get some rest while you can.”

“I’ll try, bee.” Your laugh is wet. This will never get any easier. 

Nancy shifts in your embrace, and for a moment you’re afraid she’ll pull away entirely, but instead she surprises you by wrapping an arm around you as well. Her chin is tucked against your neck, she still hasn’t melted into the embrace like Jonathan has, but she’s trying. Lips close to your ear, she whispers, “I’ll keep him safe.”

You suck in a breath. You hadn’t known how desperately you needed to hear Nancy’s reassurance, to hear her silent apology. Pulling away from them, you look at Jonathan and Nancy. “I love you. I love you both.”

Jonathan smiles, the same way he did the night you met him on the Wheeler’s porch. Nancy ducks her head down shyly, the same way she did the night she opened the door to let you into her home. 

You squeeze their hands one last time before leaving to say goodbye to the others. 

Lucas wishes you luck, Will hugs you as tight as ever, and El offers you a partial smile. She’s still recovering from whatever the monster did to her leg, so you brush some hair out of her face and kiss her head.

“Sucks you were down in hell this whole time. Could really go for a brownie right now.” Mike says, a light in his eyes as El’s head rests in his lap.

You stick your tongue out at him. “Sorry, couldn’t find a way to bake while getting chased by Russians with guns.”

“Lame.”

“Goodbye, Wheeler.”

Then you turn to Max, who has been silent this entire time. She hugs you tightly when she sees you. “He’ll be okay, right?”

Your body goes stiff. Somehow, in the midst of Hopper and the others, you had forgotten about Billy. How he’s infected. Flayed. It hasn’t escaped your notice that no one seems to want to bring the matter up, either. When it had been Will, everyone had wanted to make sure he wouldn’t die if the gate closed. 

But no one has asked the same question for Billy. 

Swallowing, you slowly reciprocate Max’s embrace. “We’ll… We’ll find a way. We always do.”

Though the words aren’t meant to be a lie, you can’t help but feel that you’re breaking an oath when you say them. 

– 

Steve hadn’t noticed what brand of car the keys belonged to at first. However, the moment his brain recognizes the iconic Cadillac logo on its keychain, he practically starts to drool. A fucking Cadillac.

It doesn’t take him long to round everyone up and drag you outside.

“I was saying goodbye to Joyce,” you grumble, struggling to keep up with Steve’s quick footsteps.

“It’s a Cadillac, Y/N!” Steve can almost feel the foam pooling around his mouth. His footsteps increase even more, his body vibrating at the knowledge that he gets to drive his dream car. His dad hadn’t wanted to buy him one, said that the BMW was more practical. Reliable. When Steve pushes the mall’s front door open and sees the beautiful, timeless car parked perfectly in front of him, he almost collapses. “Oh, man, now this…This is what I’m talkin’ about!”

“‘Toddfather’?” Robin points out the license plate and its horrible name.

You make a face, but Steve doesn’t let her ruin his moment. He’s ecstatic. This is arguably the best thing that has happened to him all day (besides maybe kissing you). For fuck’s sake, it’s a goddamn Cadillac. “Oh, screw Todd! Steve’s her daddy now.”

Steve hops into the car’s front seat like a little kid with a toy car. Meanwhile you, Robin, Dustin, and Erica retract your heads in disgust at what he’s just said. Robin looks at you, repulsed. “Did he just talk about himself in the third person?”

Erica follows up with her own creeped out question. “Did he just call himself daddy?” 

“I’m choosing to ignore him right now.” You say to both of the girls, pressing a hand to your forehead as you walk to the car. There’s so much you don’t want to unpack with what Steve has said. 

“You can’t ignore me, Y/N.” Steve leans over the center counsel and opens the passenger door for you. “We already established that I’m really annoying.” 

“Just take us to Weathertop, please.” You buckle yourself in and make sure the kids have their seatbelts on as well. When you see that Robin has found herself in the middle seat, you snicker at her. She’s squished between Dustin and Erica, her knees are pressed uncomfortably to her chest.

“Why did I get stuck in the middle?” She complains.

Steve fixes one of the mirrors before revving the engine. As he pulls out of the mall’s parking lot, he offhandedly responds, “Passenger seat is reserved for girls I’m dating.”

Everyone in the backseat gags, and you blush furiously. You and Steve haven’t had the time to talk about your relationship. Or if there even is a relationship. But he’s just referred to you as the girl he’s dating. He kissed you yesterday, or was it today?

Time has blurred together, but Steve’s hand rests on your thigh as he drives and you’re his girl. 

There will be time to talk about all of it later. You’ll make sure of it this time. 

Steve’s foot presses on the gas, speeding through Hawkins. Neither of you were given an exact time frame from Hopper, but he presses down harder on the pedal and sends the car flying. There’s music on the radio, doing its best to distract everyone, but your hands are still antsy. You’re nervous, there’s still so much left unspecified within the plan. Steve notices your fidgeting fingers and removes his hand from your thigh to play with them; he’s trying to soothe you. 

You intertwine your fingers through his and smile at him. Steve winks back at you, and you admire how lovely he looks as he drives. The moment is broken when Robin shoves her head between the two of you. “What the hell is a Cerebro?”

“It’s basically a radio tower that Dustin built for his girlfriend, Suzie.” You explain to her, voice raised to be heard over the music and wind. “She lives in Utah.”

Robin raises an eyebrow, intrigued. She leans back in her seat and pokes Dustin’s shoulder. “Suzie must be really special, huh? I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her.” 

Your brother preens at this, pleased someone has recognized his romantic efforts. “I mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect, but Suzie’s about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be.”

“She sounds made up to me.” Erica snarks from the backseat. She looks over at Steve, tries to get his opinion. “She sound made up to you?”

Steve hesitates for just a fraction of a second too long, and you sigh. Dustin notices it, too. “Why are you hesitating, Steve?”

“I–I’m not!” He looks to you for help, but you only shake your head at him. All he had to do was respond promptly. This is his own fault. “I’m not hesitating! I–I think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.”

“Not really loving your uncertain tone, Steve.” You say, and Dustin nods in agreement. “Suzie is real. I mean, I’m almost positive that she is.”

Dustin does a double take at your use of the word “almost”. He’s about to say something, demand to know why you’re not certain Suzie is real, before he notices that Steve is about to miss the Weathertop turn. “Left, turn left!”

“There’s not a road here?” Steve argues, squinting his eyes in the dark to see whatever the hell the kid is seeing.

Dustin screams at him again to turn, and you only have a second to brace yourself before Steve jerks the wheel. The car’s tires screech on the asphalt as your body gets thrown forward. You scream, getting war flashbacks to when you’d been in the back of Billy’s car as Max had very recklessly driven you and Steve to the tunnels. Somehow, this is so much worse. 

The car breaks through a fence and your screaming only intensifies. “What the fuck?”

“Hendersons, where are we going?” Steve screams to you and your brother. He’s desperately trying to keep hold of the steering wheel as the car struggles against the hillside’s grass. 

“Up!” You and Dustin exclaim. One hand clutches the door, the other clutches the seat. The entire car is practically at a ninety degree angle as Steve continues to drive up the hill. It’s bumpy, your head hits the back of the seat more times than you would like, and your heart races. 

The car makes a concerning amount of strange noises the further up the hill you drive. Robin clutches her stomach. “We’re not going to make it!” 

“Yes we are!” Steve does everything he can. His foot never leaves the gas. “C’mon, baby. C’mon!” 

“Sweet talking the car won’t help!” You shriek after a particularly rough bump leaves you nauseous. The poor car strains against the giant hill. The tires, not at all made for off-roading, get caught in the grass. 

Steve hits the wheel and curses. “C’mon! Please!” He presses harder on the gas, but the car comes to a stop. The tires move uselessly against the slick mud underneath.

Ill and desperately wanting to get out of the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt. “We can walk the rest of the way, Steve.” He gives you a despaired look, pleading with you to let him continue playing with his new car, but you roll your eyes at him. You’re five seconds away from vomiting, he can deal with abandoning the car. “The Toddfather is dead. We can mourn her later.”

Steve groans but turns the car off as everyone gets out, preparing for the walk ahead. The hill is just as steep as it had been earlier this week when you were with the party. While you’re annoyed you have to walk it again, at least this time it’s night and the heat isn’t as suffocating. 

When you reach the crest of the hill, Dustin immediately runs to Cerebro. He crouches next to the radio and turns it on. “Bald Eagle, do you copy? Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?”

Bald Eagle had been your idea. 

“Scoops Troop?” You ask your brother.

He nods, proud. “Thought of it myself.”

“Not bad, buddy.”

Murray’s voice crackles over the walkie. “Yes, I copy.”

Everyone lets out a breath of relief when you hear him. So far, the first phase of the plan seems to be working. Cerebro can reach all the way down to the lair; you can communicate with Hopper and Joyce. So far, so good.

Dustin starts to give Murray the directions he’ll need for the vents. You and Steve roam the perimeter of the hill, weary and needing something to do. While you’re far from the Russians below you, you still don’t necessarily feel like you’re out of harm’s reach. Robin stays with the kids, figuring it’s best to give the two of you some time alone. 

You stare out into the view of Hawkins from so high above. Weathertop has always been your favorite spot in the small town. Your first summer in Hawkins, Jonathan had introduced you to the hill; you used to spend all your time up here with him. You’d spend hours running up and down the length of it, giggling and sunkissed. If you stand still enough, you can still hear the laughter in the breeze. You miss Jonathan and being kids with him. 

“I haven’t been up here in years.” Steve stands next to you, voice soft. He stares out into the field as well, admires its beauty the way you are, though really he just wants the excuse to look at you. “Forgot how peaceful it was.”

“I love it here,” you tell him. “Late in the summer, dandelions appear. They scatter the entire hilltop. I like running through them.”

“Well, when they start to bloom,” Steve wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you back into his chest. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingers. He hasn’t held you in so long, his body aches with the weight of yours against it. “We can run through them together.”

You smile into the embrace, lean into the kiss, tremble into the words. He will always make you weak. It’s an exhilarating feeling, knowing someone can dismantle every bone in your body with less than six words. “I think I’d like that–”

From the corner of your eye, you see lights flickering in the distance. They catch your attention, standing out against the black backdrop of the night sky. You shrug Steve off, feeling a tug in your chest to walk closer to the hill’s edge. You need to figure out what you’re seeing. With every step you take, the more your vision focuses in on the lights, the more dread fills your body.

It’s the mall. The lights are coming from the mall. 

You freeze. 

The lights are going haywire, flickering wildly. It’s supposed to be deserted. Jonathan and the others were supposed to have left already, but still your stomach sinks. Something isn’t right. 

Steve stumbles after you, confused as to why you pulled away, but when he sees the mall as well, he stills. “What the…?”

“They left. They said they would be gone by now.” You try to calm yourself down, try to focus on the reasoning. The mall is empty. It’s supposed to be empty. Jonathan promised you he would make it to Murray’s safely. He wouldn’t lie, he would never lie to you. 

Robin, Dustin, and Erica come up behind you and Steve. You all stand there at the crest. No one moves, transfixed by what they see. The lights continue to flicker, miles below, impossibly too far away from help.

Someone has to help.

Your feet move, twisting your body to run back to the radio. You need answers. You need to know what the hell is going on, if everyone is safe, and Dustin is right behind you. He falls to the grass in front of the radio and frantically brings it to his lips. “Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop. Do you copy? Over!”

He repeats the call over and over, but no one responds. With each passing moment of silence, your panic turns into blind fear. “I repeat, do you copy–” A sudden, horrifyingly familiar screech, one that has haunted your nightmares for years now, rips through the radio’s speaker. It’s loud and gruesome and sends ice into your body. Your brother’s concern rivals your own. “Griswold Family, please confirm your safety. Are you enroute to Bald Eagle’s nest?”

Dustin is screaming into the radio at this point, demanding answers, but there’s only snarling on the other side. Your breathing quickens, the edges of your vision blur. Sweat trickles down your neck. You can’t breathe. Jonathan is still at the mall. Mike and Will. Nancy, Max and Lucas. 

El.

The Mind Flayer has them. 

Steve tries to grab your hand, but you’re blind to it all. In raw desperation, you tear the radio out of Dustin’s hands and bring it to your own lips. “Jonathan! Nancy! Mike, anyone.”

Your pleads fill the void of a response in the night air. Steve sits next to you, all he can do is watch as your pleading turns into begging. Your voice cracks, the words scratch your throat. Seeing your white-knuckled grip on the radio, Steve can’t take it anymore. 

“C’mon,” he takes your hand and pulls you up. Numb with fear, your body is limp. You try to fight him, you don’t know why he’s pulling you away from the radio when your friends need help, but Steve has made up his mind. He takes the device out of your hands and makes you look at him. “They need our help.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!”

“Y/N, look at me.” Steve motions to the car, and finally you understand. “We’re going.”

Relief threatens to make your knees weak. Too wired from the debilitating combination of fear and helplessness, all you can do is nod at Steve and allow him to guide you down the hill. Dustin and Erica see that you’re leaving and try to stop you. “Where are you going?”

“To get them the hell outta there!” Steve calls over his shoulder, fumbling through his pocket to retrieve the keys. “Stay here, contact the others!”

Dustin calls out your name, anxious. He doesn’t want you to leave, and you hate that you have to leave him. But right now, he and Erica are as far from danger as physically possible. Weathertop hill is miles away from Starcourt. Right now, Jonathan needs you, and so do the others. Breaking out of Steve’s grasp, you run back to your brother and kiss his forehead. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

You run back to the car where Steve awaits, and Robin is quick to follow. She runs after the two of you and catches the walkie that Dustin tosses her. “Stay in touch,” he orders the three of you, still entirely against the whole thing. 

“We will!” You shout back at him, already crawling into the car. “Stay safe, don’t do anything stupid, and stay here.”

The backdoor closes, Robin’s seatbelt clicks into place, then the Cadillac’s engine roars to life.

–

Your hands won't stop shaking as Steve drives. Nothing he says can reassure you. The car hasn’t gone below seventy miles an hour despite the narrow road, and still it doesn’t feel like it will be enough. 

“I’m sure they’re okay.” Steve tries again to sound convincing, like his hands also don’t shake as he grips the steering wheel. “I mean, they have El. She’s a superhero.”

“Total superhero.” Robin unhelpfully chimes in. Her own nervousness is on display as she twists her fingers together. 

You draw your knees into your chest, trying desperately to make yourself smaller. You’re terrified for your friends, you should’ve never split up. The party always does better when it’s together. Forcing air into your lungs, you stare out the windshield. “How much farther?”

“A minute, maybe even less.” Steve promises, pressing down even harder on the gas pedal. The engine’s roar deafens your ears, and you welcome the distraction. 

In the distance you see Starcourt’s blinding neon lights. They grow bigger and bigger with every passing second, and you release the breath you had been holding when you see that you’re close. The moment of relief is short lived, however, when you hear gunshots pierce through the night. The sound rings in your eyes and the sight of Nancy firing the gun chokes you. 

“There!” You point towards where she stands and Steve changes the direction of the car. The tires screech and your body thuds against the door but you don’t care. All you can focus on is Nancy standing in front of Jonathan’s car, unmoving as she fires bullet after bullet. Something seems to be wrong with his car, you can hear the engine fail each time he turns the key.

You squint your eyes. At first, you can’t see what Nancy is firing at, but within seconds you see the third car barreling straight towards her at a terrifying speed. In the driver’s seat is Billy. “Steve!”

“I see him!” He floors it. 

The impact knocks all the air out of your body. It all happens so fast. Glass shatters. Metal hits metal. Your body gets thrown, your head roughly hits Steve’s shoulder as the car spins out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the momentum. You can’t remember if you scream. 

“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks, panting, as soon as he car comes to a stop. His head is spinning yet the first thing he does is look to see if you’re hurt. There’s some glass in your hair, but for the most part there isn’t a scratch on you, which he’s thankful for. 

“Ask me tomorrow?” Robin stares blankly ahead, still trying to process what’s just happened. 

It takes a few moments for you to come to. Your ears are ringing. Your neck aches from being thrown so suddenly to the left. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Agreed…” Robin swallows, but quickly her mouth goes dry. “Oh, shit.”

You follow her line of sight and nearly throw up. The Mind Flayer crawls over the mall and releases a thundering screech, and the size of it alone makes you want to cry. It’s huge, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen before. 

A car honks behind you, breaking you from your terror. Your head whips around, finding Nancy in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car. “Get in!”

Quickly the three of you scramble out of the wrecked car. There isn’t room in any of the passenger seats, so you yank the trunk door open and scream at Robin and Steve to crawl in. It’s a tight fit, you have to press your back against Steve’s chest, but it’ll have to do. 

As soon as the trunk is closed, Jonathan steps on the gas. You’re thrown further into Steve’s chest and Robin, who sits in front of you, lets out a quiet yelp when she sees the Mind Flayer chasing after the car, not far behind. Seeing this as well, Jonathan takes a rough turn and everyone in the car tries to brace for the rest of the ride. 

“Are you okay, bug?” Jonathan shouts over his shoulder, eyes still on the road.

“Fine and dandy,” you pick a piece of glass out of your hair. Steve helps, carefully combing through your hair as well. The Mind Flayer screams, tries to lunge at the car, and your heart skips a beat. You try to distract yourself. “I crash cars every day. How about you guys, what brought y’all out here tonight?”

“Billy.” Everyone in the car says in unison.

You wince. “It’s always him, isn’t it?”

No one answers. Your quips don’t land. Robin hasn’t looked away from the Mind Flayer yet, Steve doesn’t want to look at it. Jonathan stares at the road ahead of him and Nancy flinches every time the Mind Flayer’s body thuds against the earth. The rest of the kids are silent, the echoes of its footfalls pounding against their eardrums. 

It’s grim in the car. Really fucking grim. 

“Dusty-bun, you copy?” A girl’s voice comes through over the radio. It’s not a voice you recognize; never in your life have you heard anyone besides your own mother refer to your brother as Dusty-bun.

Steve’s bewildered expression matches your own. Then Dustin’s voice crackles through the radio, and your bewilderment turns into relief. At least your brother is far away from whatever the hell is chasing you right now. “I copy, Suzie-poo. It sounds much better now, thanks.” 

“Suzie,” Steve and Robin breathe out at the same time. You smile at them, smug. They had their doubts, but you were almost certain she had been real. Serves them right. 

The nickname Dustin has for his girlfriend, however, is awful. “‘Suzie-poo’? That’s the best nickname he could’ve come up with?”

“I like bee, better.” Jonathan agrees.

Steve scoffs. “Honey has a nicer ring to it.”

“Both of you shut up!” You don’t have time for their weird ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ competition. Dustin’s started speaking over the radio again and you’re trying to listen in case it’s important. He’s asking Suzie whether she knows what Planck’s constant is, and you have no idea how any of this is relevant to the situation at hand. 

“Okay, so I know it starts with two sixes, and then a…” Dustin’s voice trails off. Apparently this Planck thing is a number, one he can’t seem to remember. “W-What is it?”

“Okay, let me just be clear on this.” The tone of Suzie’s voice makes you pity your brother. It’s an angry tone, annoyed and fed up. Whatever she’s about to say, it won’t be pretty. “I haven’t heard from you in a week, and now you want a mathematical equation that you should know so you can… save the world?”

You whistle, commending the girl’s sense of self worth. “She’s got a point.” 

Dustin pleads with her, promising that he’ll make it up to Suzie as soon as he can. You feel a bit bad for him, honestly. He really had been trying to contact her ever since he got home from camp. How was he supposed to know his week would end up being dominated by Russians?

“You can make it up to me now.” Suzie’s voice lowers a frightening octave. You have no idea what she’s about to say, and a large part of you wants to throw the radio out the window before you’re forced to find out. 

“What?” Dustin sounds frightened as well, which doesn’t make you feel any better. 

“I want to hear it.”

Horror fills you. It’s worse. So much worse than you ever could’ve imagined. You know exactly what Suzie wants from Dustin. “Oh, no… He told her.”

“Told her what?” Steve asks you, confused by this entire ordeal. Dustin and Suzie argue in the background. She’s insistent and your brother tries his best to convince her otherwise. 

Jonathan’s eyes meet Steve’s in the rearview mirror, mischief in them. “Theater camp.”

“Jonathan Byers, I will hurt you!” You hiss at him, utterly mortified. Sometimes you despise the fact that he’s your closest friend. He knows far too much about you. 

Steve has so many questions, but he forgets all of them when Dustin starts to sing. “Turn around, look at what you see.”

His voice is clear and beautiful, a testament to the countless hours the two of you were forced to endure in vocal lessons. When you were younger and still living in Virginia, your mother made you and your brother attend a musical theater camp every summer. She loved having you guys perform little shows for her around the house. Said your voices were like angels to listen to. 

The day you and Dustin moved to Hawkins, you both swore to never tell anyone about the camp. The secret would die with you. 

Jonathan only knows about it because your mom had him video tape Christmas carols a few years ago (like the traitor that he is). It had taken several batches of cookies, numerous pleas, and a handful of threats to ensure he wouldn’t tell anyone what he saw. 

“In her face, the mirror of your dreams.” Dustin’s melodic voice floats through the car. The song had been one the two of you sang frequently at camp, its verses simple yet fun to sing together. 

Steve and Robin share a look of disbelief. They’ve completely forgotten about the Mind Flayer still chasing after the car. Suzie, a surprisingly good singer as well, now joins Dustin. They sing together, in a sweet, childish way. You can’t help but sing along, harmonizing with them. 

Everyone in the car looks at you as if you’re insane, but you’re too tired and exhausted to care. You’ve had the weirdest two days of your goddamn life. Sue you for singing along. It’s a good song. 

That, or maybe you’re just delirious from dehydration.

After a minute or so, the song comes to a close, and you’re almost saddened by that. You’ve missed singing with your brother. You make a mental note to bug him about it later. “Planck’s constant is 6.62607004.”

Dustin laughs into the radio, happy that Suzie finally revealed the number. “You just saved the world!”

“Gosh, I miss you, Dusty-bun.”

The two continue to go back and forth with their baby talk, which you cringe at. It’s disgusting to overhear, although you guess you understand now why Dustin hates being around you and Steve. You’ll apologize to him later. 

Dustin’s voice cuts off unexpectedly, which you assume is Erica’s doing. You’ll also thank her later. The car goes quiet again. No one knows what to follow Dustin’s impromptu performance with. 

“So, theater camp, huh?” Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you gently in his arms as he teases. 

“Tell anyone and I swear I’ll–” The Mind Flayer suddenly turns around, catching your attention. It runs away, back towards the mall. It doesn’t make any sense. Everyone is here, in the car. It only wants El. Unease twists your stomach. You lean forward and look at who is in the car. When you see Will and Lucas in the seat in front of you, you panic. “Where are the others?”

You’re practically crawling over the seat to try and get to Jonathan and Nancy. “Where’s Max and El? Where the hell is Mike?”

Nancy tries to distance herself from your anger. “We got separated, but they’re–they’re fine. We had to guide the Mind Flayer away from the mall–”

“So you left them?”

“We didn’t really have much of a choice, Y/N!” Nancy screams back at you now, insulted that you truly believe she would ever leave her brother behind willingly. She wouldn’t do that. She knows that you know this. 

“It’s going back for them! It fucking turned around, can’t you see that? We need to follow it, now!” 

“Y/N–”

“Turn. Around.”

“Steve, sit Y/N back down!” Jonathan’s yell cuts in between you and Nancy. You’re about to start spewing curses at him, but Steve’s arms are strong and force you back into his lap. You’re livid. “Hold on!” 

Jonathan knows you’re right. He tightens his hold on the steering wheel and stomps on the brakes. The car spins, he twists the wheel, controls it as best as he can, before he steadies the vehicle and accelerates back towards the mall. 

– 

When you get to the mall, Lucas announces that he has a plan. 

“Fireworks have an insane amount of gunpowder in them.” He explains to the group, waving around a handful of fireworks he left in the trunk. You’re all carrying some as you run through the mall’s parking lot. “If we tie them together, we can mimic the damage of dynamite.”

“Think it’ll be enough to kill the Mind Flayer?” Nancy asks, hesitant.

“If we throw them from above, yeah!”

You kiss Lucas’ cheek, only barely managing not to trip over your feet as you run. “I think you’re a genius, Sinclair.”

Inside the mall, everyone quickly sets the fireworks up. Faintly you can hear the Mind Flayer lurking somewhere, its roars echoing throughout the building, but it hasn’t found you guys yet. Lighters get passed around, fireworks get messily taped together, groups are divided in an attempt to cover the most ground. Jonathan with Nancy. Will with Lucas. You and Steve with Robin.

You’re taping together the last of your fireworks when you look down over the railing. You almost drop the fireworks in your hand when you see Billy hovering over El. He’s so much bigger than she is. She’s hardly even visible beneath him. Your stomach churns. “He’s here.”

Thuds shake the ground. The Mind Flayer descends from the rooftop and crawls over to where Billy has placed El. Its mouth opens, preparing for the kill, and Lucas throws the first firework. “Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!”

Bursts of light collide into the monster. It hisses, turns to face the direction the firework was thrown, and Lucas throws another into its mouth. 

Smoke begins to fill the air. The whistle of the rockets sting your ears. The light blinds you. It’s loud and messy and fireworks rain down upon the monster. Everyone throws the bundles they have, and yet still you hesitate. Billy’s eyes flash through your mind. How the red in them overtook the icy blue. The sweat that poured from his face. The cruelty that seeped through his skin. 

It’s horrible what’s happened to him. He didn’t deserve to become a pawn in this maddening game. 

But someone has to end it. You breathe in, relax your body, and bring your lighter to the first firework. Its heat licks at your skin as you release it into the air. You hit the side of its body, sending the Mind Flayer stumbling back. 

“Hey, asshole. Over here!” Steve throws a firework and its blasts almost scorches the two of you. It’s dangerous, stray fireworks threaten to crash into everyone, but the plan seems to be working. With every hit the Mind Flayer takes, the more he weakens. 

Your thumb burns as you light fireworks over and over again. The motion is repetitive, just enough to keep the fear in you at bay. It’s deafening within the mall. It’s exhilarating. It’s dizzying. Reds, blues, yellows, greens all light up the sky. 

Distantly, through the haze of smoke, you watch as the fireworks affect Billy as well. He cowers each time the Mind Flayer gets hit, but it also seems to enrage him as well. He grabs El’s wounded leg and drags her closer to the monster.

Helplessly you wish you were down there with El, helping her. However, all you can do is continue throwing fireworks in a crazed attempt to save the ones you love. You scream with every throw, exerting all your strength to throw them as far as you physically can. But you’re quickly running out of ammunition. 

“Dustin, we’re out of time!” Steve screams into the walkie, breath heaving with soot on his face. 

Your brother screams back, pleading with Hopper to close the gate. No one answers him, and you hold back exhausted sobs as you throw the remaining fireworks. They won’t be enough. Someone has to close the gate, sever any connection the Upside Down has to your world. It’s the only way any of you are making it out alive. 

Yet it remains open, and Billy has now crawled back on top of El. 

She seems to be saying something to him, but in the cloud of smoke and explosions you can’t be sure. Robin helps you light the last firework, Steve aims it, and you’re numb to it all. He throws it, it explodes into a shower of purple. Its ashes scatter around Billy, singes his back, and you see now that he’s stopped moving. 

“That was the last one!” Robin shouts over the screams of the fireworks. Steve runs a hand through hair and curses. There isn’t anything else the three of you can do.

You run to the railing and look around, feverish to find any way to help. Jonathan catches your eye from across the plaza. He looks just as distraught as you are. Your palm hits against the metal of the railing in frustration. There has to be something. Then you see Max and Mike below, standing on the outskirts of where Billy and El are, all alone. 

“I’m going down!” You scream to Robin and Steve. You have to get down there. Someone has to be with them. They’re too close to the fire and explosions and monsters. 

“Y/N, wait–” Steve tries to stop you, but you plead with him. 

“Steve, I need you to trust me.” There’s a raw, overwhelming feeling within you that something bad is about to happen. You can’t shake it, the feeling of loss being inevitable frightens you. For three years now you’ve saved everyone, done everything right. For three years, you’ve gotten lucky. You don’t know how to explain all of this to Steve, the fear that has followed you ever since you first intercepted the Russian code. “Please.”

Maybe it’s the way you say it. Maybe it’s the tears that stream down your face as you look at him. Whatever the reason may be, Steve reluctantly lets go of you. Endlessly thankful for him, your hands cradle his face as you kiss him. He makes a cute, surprised noise, and you wish more than anything that you can bask in the warmth of his lips, but you can’t. 

You force yourself to pull away. “I’ll be back, take care of the others.”

And then you’re gone. 

Footsteps echoing against the walls of the mall, you run down the stairs and straight towards Max and Mike. They hear you approach and suddenly they’re both in your arms. They hold onto you tightly, none of you can tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you. Billy slowly stands up and away from El. His movements are labored as he walks in front of the Mind Flayer, blocking its path to her. 

They stand, face to face, unmoving. Predator against prey. Your heart pounds in your throat as you watch, too scared to move. In an almost imperceptible velocity, the Mind Flayer extends its claws. 

Billy raises his arms, stopping the monster from piercing through El, protecting her. “No!” A guttural, animalistic scream tears apart his vocal chords. He screams, over and over again, as the Mind Flayer struggles against him. 

Max freezes in your arms, you feel her choke on her gasp. 

Everything happens slowly after that. 

The first claw that penetrates Billy’s side. 

The second one that cuts through his other side. 

Then the third one, the fourth and the fifth and the sixth. They pierce through his skin, sink into the flesh. His body goes limp as he’s suspended into the air. The Mind Flayer hisses down at him, its teeth bared, and Billy, who has never been afraid, screams in the face of death as the monster fatally punctures his chest. 

Everything stops.

“Billy!” You will never forget the pain in Max’s scream. It will become yet another sound that haunts your nightmares. 

As you stand there with a paralyzed Max in your arms, the Mind Flayer drops Billy’s body onto the ground. He lands with a sickening thud. The Mind Flayer’s body crashes into the walls, it convulses, spasms, leaving destruction in its wake. Then, all together, it stills and falls to the ground.

The gate has been closed. 

Mike tears himself from your arms and runs over to El. He pulls her into a hug and she begins to sob. You and Max walk numbly over to them, neither of your eyes leave Billy’s bleeding body. He shudders weakly where he lays, a pool of blood encasing his body. 

“Billy?” Max knees next to him. She’s crying, she doesn’t know what to do. There’s so much blood. “Billy, get up. Please, Billy. Get up, please.”

You kneel next to her, at her side through it all. 

Blood pours from Billy’s mouth. He coughs and the wet sound only makes Max cry harder. He looks up at you, his eyes are finally blue again. “Talking to you… sweetheart.”

But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?

Those had been your last words to him. 

“Billy…” He had tried to find you. He had been lost and scared and alone. He didn’t know what had been happening to him, why his anger became venom. A sob is wrenched from your mouth. He had been all alone, and he had tried to find you.

Billy coughs again, more blood leaks from his wounds. With the last of his strength, he turns his head to Max. “I’m sorry…” His chest heaves in pain, he labors two final breaths, before his chest falls entirely. It doesn’t rise again. 

Max shakes his shoulders, uncaring for the wounds there. She shakes him, begs and pleads with him to wake up, but his body remains lifeless. She lets out one final, anguished sob. “Billy.” 

She buries her face in your chest and sobs. You hold her, El joins. The girl tries to soothe Max, she tries to keep you together, but you break as well. 

You cry for the boy Billy had once been. Max had told you stories from before. How he would drive her to the skate park, scare off any older boy who tried to taunt her. She told you about how he used to love surfing in California, before his mom had left them and his dad became violent. 

Max told you about how kind Billy had once been, she knows he used to be kind. How she could see it in him still, hiding the bruises from his father to not scare her. To make her feel safe in their own home even if he intimidated her as well; it was the violence in him that was created by a monster far more vile than the Mind Flayer. 

You cry for Max, too young to lose such a complicated loved one. You know the pain better than anyone else. How it hurts to grieve them, how it makes you feel pathetic to miss someone who has only hurt you, but the tenderness of knowing them tethers you to it all. Billy had been her brother. There is no greater tether than that. 

You cry because you loved and have lost. You will blame yourself for having not said anything about Billy’s off behavior. You had seen the first signs of what the Mind Flayer did to him. He had been stranded on the side of the road, bloodied and bruised, blue eyes darker than normal, and you had done nothing except tell him to come find you. 

And then you had left him. 

Billy Hargrove died alone.

You and Max will share the burden of this guilt. 

– 

Jonathan finds you first, then Steve. You’re on the floor, kneeling with Max in your arms, two broken pieces finding solace in the other. Billy’s body lies next to you, neither you nor Max can bear to look at it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” they’re the only words you can say to the girl. 

Max clutches your arms around her and her tears soak your shirt. El and Steve try to coax her out of your arms, but she doesn’t move. She refuses to let go of you, though she allows Jonathan to drape his arms over you and hold you as your own sobs echo within the mall. 

Nancy and the others join. They leave a wide berth around the dead body before them. Nancy sees that you’re in no condition to guide, so she takes over for you. She instructs Steve and Lucas to take Max from your arms so that they can stand the two of you up. The fire from the wreckage is quickly spreading and you’ll need to evacuate soon.

“It’s okay, bug. You’re okay.” Jonathan whispers in your ear, one hand delicate on your arm. Steve’s hands rest upon your other arm, and together the two of them are able to get you onto your feet. 

Your body shakes, grief sits heavily upon your chest. Steve’s eyes never leave your weak frame. 

It’s all a blur after that. 

Firefighters break through the mall and evacuate the building. Nancy and Jonathan do all the talking. Someone, you think it’s Steve, carefully guides you through the maze of burning rubble and bodies. It’s raining outside and the soft thunder almost drowns out the drone of the helicopters that swarm the building. 

There are ambulances amongst the military trucks and you’re shoved into one by a concerned medic. The woman explains to you that you’re in shock, that your body is in a state of perpetual flight. She allows Steve to sit and stay with you only after she’s finished patching up his split lip and bruised eye. 

“It’s going to take some time to heal,” the medic explains to you. She’s soft spoken, maternal, and in your numb state she reminds you of your mother. “You kids went through a lot tonight.”

Time. 

It always goes back to time. 

Steve rubs your back and kisses the top of your head every few minutes. You rest your head against his shoulder, body pressed against his, a blanket draped around both of your shoulders’. Neither of you say anything. His hand on your back is warm, it unthaws the ice that the shock has left behind. His touch grounds you, keeps you afloat. 

A car pulls up in the distance and its doors slam. Your eyes drift up, finding Joyce’s as she stumbles through the crowd of armed soldiers and firefighters. She stumbles around, lost in some haze that clouds her once shining face. Joyce looks around in concern, trying to find her sons, and somehow you know, even before her face crumbles when she sees you, that something terrible has happened.

Her eyes meet yours. 

Hopper isn’t with her.

Will rushes towards his mother and almost knocks her down with how hard he hugs her. Joyce clings onto him and breaks into heartwrenching, bone crushing, sobs. You can hear her from where you sit with Steve, you can feel the weight of her loss like thickened water in your lungs. 

In the other ambulance next to you, El, who had been resting in Mike’s lap, stands up when she sees Joyce. She walks towards the woman as she embraces her son. Though El faces away from you, standing alone in the middle of the parking lot, the way her shoulders shake as she begins to fall apart indicates the remnants of her childhood have died tonight.

“Hopper’s dead.” They’re the first words you’ve spoken all night. Your voice is hoarse from disuse and the words echo, taunting you. 

Steve doesn’t say anything, only a heavy sigh leaves his body. 

There were three deaths tonight. Billy, Hopper, and El’s childhood. One for every year you got lucky. The fear that had been creeping through the back of your mind finally presents itself to you. It manifests in the humid July air and it laughs at you. Saving Will, closing the gate, destroying the Mind Flayer. They were debts needed to be fulfilled, and they were paid for tonight.

You see Max and Robin sitting on a stretcher across from you. Max also hasn’t said anything all night, lost in her own grief and remorse. Joyce still sobs in Will’s arms. El grieves alone, mourning the closest thing she’s ever had to a father. 

You see Jonathan and Nancy whispering quietly to one another in another ambulance. They share a blanket like you do with Steve, but Nancy’s eyes are sunken in and Jonathan’s face is pale. Lucas and Mike sit together, too exhausted to say anything. 

You’re all bleeding or burned or bruised and you’re tired. 

“Sometimes…” Your voice cracks, tears threaten to silence you, and you force yourself to breathe in. Force yourself to focus, to get the words out. They’re important, somehow, even if you don’t know why. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.”

Steve draws small circles into your ribcage. His fingers catch on the raised skin, the scar from when you saved his life last year. “Luck?”

“When Will went missing… It was pure luck that I found him. Brought him back home.” You weren’t supposed to have been with the kids when they found El. You were lucky that night, it was luck that threw you into the middle of it all. “It was luck that saved Will last year, too. Those tunnels…” Your body shivers at the memory. It had been so cold down there, the smell of the damp earth is a scent you will never forget. “And now I–”

Your words catch in your throat. Steve’s body presses against yours, he waits for you, patient. When your voice returns, you try again. “And now I… I’m not sure how I feel.”

“Why’s that, angel?” Steve listens, he tries to understand. “I mean, the Mind Flayer is gone. We won.”

You saved Hawkins. You saved El. You know this, and it should be enough, but it isn’t. “All the deaths that took place tonight stain everything.”

El’s father is dead. Joyce had come so close to loving again. Max no longer has someone to call a brother. Billy, who endured so much hurt when he was a child, never got the chance to experience kindness when he grew up. 

Billy never got the chance to become good, not like you did. You were lucky to have even become kind again in the first place. It had taken years to turn the hurt from your childhood into empathy. You had a mother who called you her sweet girl even when you screamed horrible insults at her. You had a brother who held your hand through the anger that your father left behind. You had a best friend who taught you that not everyone leaves. There had been people who loved you, who were gentle, who showed you that anger can be turned into something soft. 

But all Billy ever knew in his life was violence and cruelty. It isn’t fair. 

“My entire life I’ve been lucky,” your chest constricts as you confess everything to Steve. All your fear, the doubt, the insecurity. “Now it–it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.” Your fingers find Steve’s, a mind of their own as your body seeks the solace only he can bring. He doesn’t know that he’s the reason you believe you’ve had more luck than anyone else in their life. “I… I was lucky to have met you, to become your friend, someone you trust. How could I possibly have any luck left over after everything we’ve been through together?”

Everything burns in Steve. He understands what you’re trying to say, he does, but he doesn’t agree. Steve hooks the pad of his fingertip underneath your chin and coaxes your head up, he wants you to look at him as he speaks. He needs you to hear him. To understand. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

You wipe your eyes, uncomfortable under Steve’s open and earnest gaze. “I’m wrong?”

He hums, strokes a finger from the dip of your cheek up to the crest of your brow. He admires you, memorizes the skin beneath his. “You’ve taught me a lot of things, but you’re wrong about that luck theory of yours. See, I have my own theory that you can never run out of luck if you love, and you taught me that to love and be loved is the luckiest thing a person can give and receive.”

Steve remembers the first day he ever saw you. He’d been thirteen, you had been twelve. He remembers how small you looked to him, yet lovely nonetheless, even back then. You had always been so lovely to Steve, kind, delicate, admirable. 

Your eyes stare into Steve’s and he remembers the first day he spoke to you. The squeal of your bike tires as you almost crashed into his car. The way the setting sun cast you in a golden glow in the ditch you landed in as Steve offered you his hand. How, the moment you laughed at what he said, he felt breathless. 

You smile at Steve now, the same smile all those years ago, the smile he saw when he was thirteen and believed in knights and dragons. Now, at eighteen, you smile at Steve and he believes in fates that attach people to one another and mold them into one being. 

“And I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, angel.” 

Steve’s words cut through you. They’re the good that remind you of the light of the sun that follows the dark of the night. It’s almost like an awakening, a slow remembering, how can someone run out of luck if they love with everything within them?

You see Mike now consoling El. She’s in pain, but Mike bears the hurt with her. You see Jonathan and Nancy sleep soundly against each other, safe in the other’s arms. Lucas holds Max’s hand as Robin cracks a joke that gets the young girl to laugh. Will strokes his fingers through his mother’s hair, offering her love that only a son can. 

Even while there is so much grief and pain within this world, the love that follows overwhelms it.

Steve stares down at you, eyes soft with contentedness. There isn’t a pressure behind them, he doesn’t need you to say anything to him. He’s simply happy to have you in his arms, to have you with him now, to remind him of how lucky he is, and you’re so full of love for him. 

“I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, too, sweet honey.”

Steve Harrington smiles the boyish smile that you fell for long before you knew what love even was, and he kisses you. He breathes you in, he has you right where he wants you. 

You finally, finally, have come home. 

– 

Time passes slowly afterwards; you take it one day at a time. 

After the mall burns down, your job is practically all but saved. It’s a small, bittersweet thing. Mrs. Waters had told you the news with her own bittersweet smile, mourning her dear friend Mrs. Driscoll who died in the fire. She will never know the truth, that the woman had become part of an army created by a monster. 

“But at least Doris would be happy that I still have my store,” the woman said as she stacked books with you at the counter. It had only taken you two days before finding yourself falling back into old habits. Your mother had wanted you to stay home for the rest of the summer, but Bookstrordinary has always been a second home to you, and you couldn’t bear the silence in the house. Mrs. Waters sighed sadly, looking down. “I miss her.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.” You squeezed her hand, mourned with her.

Hopper’s funeral took place a week after Starcourt burned down. The entire town showed up, something that you know the old man would’ve hated, and he was crowned Hawkins’ hero. You spent the ceremony in the very back, holding El’s hand, so that the two of you wouldn’t be seen.

Billy’s funeral was a few days after Hopper’s. Max sat alone at the front of the church, Billy’s father had been too drunk to attend and her mother couldn’t get the time off of work. After the ceremony, the girl silently followed you into your car and spent the rest of the day at Bookstrordinary with you. She hadn’t wanted to go home to an empty house, and you understood the feeling. 

Max spends most of her summer with you at the store after that. Some days she helps restock the shelves, singing along to your set of tapes, bright and cheery. But some days she’s quiet, sits in a corner and pretends to read whatever you hand her. El stops by the store sometimes, too. You read comics to her, bake her the oatmeal raisin cookies she loves so much, and gossip about Mike and Lucas if Max is having one of her good days. 

During the first week you bake Joyce’s favorite muffins, the second week you bake her brownies. You offer her a shoulder to cry on every time you stop by the Byers home, you reminisce over Hopper and his disdain for you; she appreciates everything you do. 

Steve spends every single day with you, it doesn’t matter where you are. Without a job, he follows you everywhere. Whether you’re at work, at home, even at Jonathan’s or Nancy’s, he’s always able to find you with Robin right behind him. Nancy thinks the newfound trio is bizarre, but Jonathan can’t help but laugh whenever he sees Robin talking your ear off while Steve follows you around like a moth to a flame.

Together, you all try to heal.

Two weeks pass and you’re woken up by the ringing of your phone. 

“Hello?” Annoyance seeps through your greeting. You’ve only just managed to fall asleep, the nightmares at bay for once. 

“Come outside, angel.”

His voice wakes you up, the annoyance now replaced with confusion. “Steve?”

“Wear something warm, okay?”

“What–?” He hangs up, the line disconnects, and you’re completely taken aback by the phone call. You didn’t make any plans with Steve tonight, at least not any that you can recall. He had spent the day with you at work, ate dinner with you and your family, before watching a movie with Dustin and going home. 

You’re not entirely sure why he’s called you at nearly two in the morning to come outside, but you listen anyways. On your desk chair lays the cardigan Steve bought you for Christmas, his initials stitched into the sleeve. Sliding it over your shoulders, you quickly put it on before climbing through your window.

Steve’s car is parked two houses from yours, headlights off. There’s music faintly playing that can be heard through the window, and a familiar melody has you running to get inside. “The Beatles?”

They were the band that you and your dad used to listen to. His fingers would strum their songs on his guitar as the two of you sat side by side on the front porch of your childhood home. He would hum the words to you. Told you that you should know about real music. 

When your dad left, he took the music with him.

Jonathan had tried to get you into his favorite artists. The Smiths, David Bowie, the Clash. He would sit you down in his room and play their songs over his record player and watch your reactions. While the music was good, and you’ve come to love them because the artists reminded you of Jonathan, it was never the same as listening to the Beatles with your dad during early July mornings. 

Then one night, when you and Steve had been driving around Hawkins, a Beatles song began to play over the radio. Unknowing of your history with the band, Steve started to hum along the same way your dad would do, and it was finally then that music was brought back into your life.

“What, I don’t get a hello?” Steve is smiling ear to ear, seeing the flushed joy on your face and the cardigan you wear. 

You throw your body over the center console and hug him. “Hi, honey.”

As he drives, Steve is unusually quiet. His initial smug greeting upon your arrival is quickly overshadowed by a shy demeanor. Steve’s fingers fidget on the steering wheel, his foot taps against the car’s floor. The Beatles play softly within the car and somewhere along the route you find that the wooded scenery starts to look familiar.

He’s driving you to Lover’s Lake.

“Why are we heading towards the lake?” You ask Steve, but he pretends not to hear you. Instead, he turns the radio up and sings along to Paul McCartney. Your eyes wander to the backseat and notice a small box nestled against the leather. 

A few minutes later Steve parks the car and wordlessly the two of you get out. It’s dark, the moon reflects off the lake’s water. Crickets sing in the air and the waves lap at the shore. It’s a beautiful night, the July heat is masked by the night’s breeze; your cardigan keeps you warm. 

Lost in admiring the view, you don’t notice that Steve has left your side until he returns with a picnic basket. The box you saw earlier is tucked underneath his arm. You tilt your head at him, quizzically. “What are you planning, Harrington?”

Steve grabs your hand. “You’ll see.”

He leads you down to the lake’s edge where the water meets the sand. There’s a trail that Steve once found when he was nine. It had been during the last fishing trip he had ever taken with his dad. The man commanded him to hook the worm and Steve cried. Embarrassed and ashamed, Steve had run towards where the sand met the woods and found a meadow hidden within it. 

There are flowers in full bloom within the meadow, and you gasp when you see their vibrant pinks and blues. The flowers are delicate yet their stems are long. Steve sets the picnic basket down and pulls a blanket out from it. He sets it onto the grass and lays down, motioning you to join him. 

The stars are clear tonight, shining bright above the two of you. They almost seem to wink at you as you lay side by side with Steve. His hand is in yours, as it always is these days, and with only the stars as his witness, Steve whispers into your ear, “Thank you for staying.”

His breath warms your neck, and you know, without having to ask, what he’s thanking you for. Your promise to him last year, that you’d wait for him. He hadn’t been ready. The timing of it all wouldn’t have been right, but you knew, even back then, that you’d wait forever for Steve Harrington if it meant you’d receive even half of his love. 

Take your time, I’ll be here. 

“It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” The words come easily to you, raw with truth and vulnerability. 

A soft sigh escapes Steve. He turns his head to you, eyes finding yours, and you’ve never seen such tenderness within him. He opens his mouth, sighs out the words you’ve longed to hear again since that night at Starcourt. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You don’t think you’ll ever tire of saying those three words to him. There’s so much love within you, so much you’ve ached to give out ever since you were a little girl, and now you finally can. 

Steve kisses you with a softness that releases a sigh from your own lips, and you know he’s wholly, truly, yours now. With a swift motion, Steve places himself on top of you as you kiss. His weight presses down on you, one hand cups your cheek and the other steadies him. His hair tickles your face, his cologne clouds your brain, and the sweet taste of July honey coats your tongue. 

Minutes, maybe even hours, pass as you kiss Steve. It’s lazy, no sense of urgency as your lips move against his. It’s warm, it’s soft. Eventually he manages to pull himself away from you, he’s brought you here for other reasons tonight. 

“Hold on, I got you something.” Steve fixes his hair, clears his throat, and pulls out a container from the basket. He reveals a freshly baked loaf of banana bread on a beautiful glass plate. There’s a small, lopsided candle on top of it.

“You came prepared tonight,” you tease him, still breathless from the kisses and love.

“My mom did, actually. She’s the one who made this.” You sit up and look at Steve, wide eyed. He laughs at you, finding your stunned reaction endearing. “Relax, angel. She really wanted to bake you something, and I had to make up for allowing Russians to ruin your seventeenth birthday, didn’t I?” 

Words escape you. Steve’s mom made you banana bread, a woman you have still yet to meet, though you’ve only heard fond stories about. She had insisted on doing this kind thing for you. 

Steve lights the candle and holds the plate up for you. “C’mon, make a wish, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, smiling, and the wish comes easily to you.

For time to stay like this, forever.

You blow the candle out, Steve cuts the banana bread, and you take turns feeding it to one another. The dessert is delicious, freshly baked and still warm. It’s sweet and nostalgic and everything you could ever ask for. 

When you’ve finished eating, Steve claps his hands. “Alright, now onto the real event of the night!” 

You raise an eyebrow. “What, the kissing wasn’t enough?” Steve makes a panicked noise and you laugh at him. “I was teasing, honey.”

“You terrify me,” he huffs, before revealing a box from behind him, the very same one you’ve been curious about all night. 

“I aspire to be terrifying,” you stick your tongue out at Steve before turning the box over in your hands. It’s light, lighter than you expected. “Is this my gift you’ve been bragging about?” For months leading up to your birthday, Steve had been boasting about this amazing gift he had thought of, how he had convinced the party to help him. 

“Open it and find out.” There’s a glint in Steve’s eyes, yet you also see the shyness return as well. He’s nervous to see your reaction, he wants more than anything to have gotten this right. 

You roll your eyes at him but open the box. It isn’t wrapped like your other gifts from Steve have been. Instead the box is made of a dark oak, and its lid opens with a soft click. The silver catches your attention first. It’s a small chain with two silver ovals on opposite sides. In between the two ovals is a collection of charms. 

“Is this…?” The charms are all roughly the same size, but each vastly different from the other. 

Steve nods at you, rubs the back of his neck. “It’s a charm bracelet.” 

Moonlight reflects off of one of the charms, revealing it to be a frog, another one to be a cookie, and slowly you piece it together. There’s six charms, one for each member of the party. “Steve.”

“Have you figured it out–oomph!” He lands with a thud on his back as you attack him with a hug. Slightly out of breath, he laughs and wraps his arms around you. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

“How did you get the kids to do this?” You lay on top of him, blinking back tears as you hold the  bracelet delicately in your hands to admire it. 

Steve sighs in exasperation. ���Money and a lot of begging. They were all for picking out charms for you, I just had to pay them to spend more than five minutes with me at the jewelry store.”

You laugh, that sounds exactly like them, and you love those kids with everything within you. Holding up the frog pendant, you know which kid picked it out for you. “Mike?”

“Yup. Said something about Kermit the frog?”

“He’s such a little shit,” you say with fondness. Last year, when Billy had nearly choked you to death, your voice had been lost and Mike wouldn’t stop referring to you as Kermit. Your fingers skim over the pendant next to it, a simple blue one, and you smile. “Dustin?”

“He told me about your code blues.” Steve rubs your back, content to have you resting against him. You hum, touched that your brother trusted Steve enough to confide this to. No one else knows about your code blues, it’d been a special thing just between the two of you. 

With your ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, Steve explains the rest of the charms to you. His voice is lazy, slow, lilting with fondness, and his hand a firm weight against your back. Max chose a knife charm to remind you of how badass you are. Will chose a bee, because he’ll always be your little bee. Lucas was able to find a small, white flower that resembles a dogwood, knowing that it’s your favorite. As for El, she chose a cookie based solely on her love for the ones you bake for her. 

“What about the ovals?” You ask Steve after he’s done explaining what the kids chose for you. The ovals are slightly larger than the charms, almost serving as a divider between them. The metal is smooth underneath your fingers. 

He brushes hair out of your face and winks. “Turn them over.”

With slight confusion, you do, and discover that they’re engraved. Etched onto the back of one oval is honey, and, on the other, angel is written. They’re your names for one another, nestled between charms from the kids you love so dearly in your life; this is a gift made from pure, unadulterated love. 

“Oh my god,” it’s perfect, absolutely perfect. Your lips are all over Steve’s face before he even has time to blink. You scatter millions of kisses upon his face, drown him in them, With every kiss that you press upon his pretty skin, you shower him with praise. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

Steve laughs and tries to move his face away, but really he leans into the onslaught of love. His cheeks burn from smiling so hard and from the heat you always make him feel. He grabs your waist and enjoys the skin he holds. “You like it?”

“I love it, Steve!” 

“Does this make up for the whole Russian fiasco?” He asks, only joking a little bit. He still feels awful for dragging you into everything, but with time he’s learning to forgive himself. Before he overthinks it, Steve adds, “Am I now the best boyfriend in the world?”

His words make you blush, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to Steve being yours. You’ve waited so long to be his, to hold him and kiss him like you do now. You cherish the feeling, the sensation of knowing a boy loves you the way that Steve does. “You’ve definitely redeemed yourself for getting me trapped in a Russian lair on my birthday. And you’re definitely the best boyfriend in the world.”

Steve, despite being underneath you, does a victory dance and whoops into the night. He’s elated, his face shines when you look down at him, and you’ve never been so in love before. You once thought you knew what love was, what the burn of it could feel like. But now, with Steve lying beneath you as his arms keep you from falling, you know that love is airless, light, cool to the touch and warm on the skin. Love isn’t supposed to hurt, it’s supposed to feel like coming home after a long day of being out in the cold. 

After Steve helps you put on the charm bracelet, you lay together in the meadow. The lake’s waves can be heard in the distance. Crickets chirp their greeting, the stars wink hello above you. Their noises serve as a lullaby to you, soothing you to an almost sleep-like state. You nestle your head into the crook of Steve’s neck and let out a sleepy exhale. 

Feeling this, Steve strokes the back of your hair. “You fallin’ asleep on me, Henderson?”

“I’m resting my eyes.” 

“Very convincing,” he chuckles, tightening his embrace to try and stave off the cold that creeps in. He lets out his own tired sigh, your weight upon him has always put him at ease. He inhales, smells your perfume, and he can’t believe that he’s here right now with you. After everything he’s been through, he can’t believe that somehow he’s come out of it with you next to him. Last year he thought he had lost you forever. This year he can see forever with you. “I think I like this July a whole lot better than the last one.”

It’s meant to be a joke, a gentle tease. More of a reflection of how far the two of you have come in such a short amount of time, but still Steve’s words remind you of something. You’ve never told him the real reason why you left last summer. Why you ran away from him. 

“I was scared, last summer.” 

Steve tilts his head at you. “Scared of what?”

“I was scared of falling in love with you,” the confession lifts from your chest. It hangs over you both, the weight of it tangible. Steve’s eyes soften, he lets out a soft oh, and you duck your head shyly. “Last July, you were… Everything. You were everything to me, and it terrified me. I was still figuring my feelings out for Jonathan back then, you had Nancy, but you were so lovely and I just–I couldn’t do it. It wouldn’t have been fair, not to anyone, but I’m sorry.”

“Y/N…” Steve hadn’t known. All this time, he thought he had done something wrong. But really you had been trying to protect yourself, protect him, and he understands now why you had to leave him for a while. He sees the distress on your face and he shushes you, kisses your forehead. “Don’t apologize, okay? I honestly would’ve run away too, if I were you. I’m just… You came back to me, in the end. That’s all I care about.”

He’s too good for you. “I still hurt you.”

“You’re human,” Steve brushes more hair out of your face. “We all make mistakes. You ditched me for a few months and I almost got you killed by crazy Russians. I think we’re pretty even now.”

Despite the guilt in your throat, Steve manages to draw a smile from you. It’s what he’s always done best. Even on the day Will had gone missing, he had been the one to ease the loss by pretending not to have known your name. He had made you laugh when you thought you could never laugh again. Steve would do anything to get you to smile, and you cannot imagine where you’d be without him. “We always even our debts, huh?”

“It’s tradition at this point.”

And you laugh, full-bellied and loud and recklessly. It echoes into the night, Steve’s reverberates into your ears, and you’re happy. 

– 

A month passes, and in the mid-August heat, Jonathan knocks on your window late one night. 

His knuckles rap against the glass and it’s a sound reminiscent of before, when you were little kids who didn’t know how yet to hurt each other. You crawl out of your bed, curious, though happy nonetheless to let him in. 

You go to open your curtain, ready to tell the boy all about what Dustin had done today, unaware that when you open the curtain, everything will change. 

Jonathan is crying. 

“Bee, oh my God.” You quickly open the window and he manages to crawl through, though sobs wrack his body. He’s shaking, and for a terrifying moment you think that something has happened to Will. “Is everything okay?”

He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes red, and with two words your world comes crashing down. “We’re moving.”

Time stands still. You’re seventeen and your childhood is coming to a close.

Somehow you’re holding onto Jonathan as he explains everything through his tears. He’s moving in early September, going all the way to California. He and his family are leaving Hawkins, leaving you. 

Your legs give out, or maybe it’s Jonathan’s, but you hold each other on the floor, intertwined, mourning the loss of growing up together. Your tears mix with his, his breathing becomes yours. The two of you cling onto each other, scared that one day soon you’ll never be able to do this again. 

“We need to–” Your breathing is shaky, your eyes sting. You feel a desperate franticness claw out of you, you grasp at what little sanity you have left. “We need to promise each other that–that we’ll see each other every day before you leave, in some capacity. It–it doesn’t matter how but–”

“I’ve already talked to Nancy about it, bug.” Jonathan wipes your tears, lets his own fall freely. He knew you’d say this, and he loves you all the more for it. “It’s been agreed.”

You nod, relieved. It isn’t much, it still doesn’t change the fact that Jonathan will leave you in the end, but at least you’ll make every last second with him count. You’ll move into the Byers home if you have to, they’re your family. He’s your person. He’s embedded into your skin, he’s nestled between your bones. 

Last year you and Jonathan promised you would never let go of each other. 

The year prior to that you promised each other that nothing would change between you two. 

Now, holding onto each other as the world you’ve been building together for five years comes crumbling down, you have to believe that the promises will be enough.

–

Steve and Robin rope you into helping them find a new job.

You innocently pointed out that Family Video was hiring, figuring it was an easy enough place to work at, and suddenly the two of them had shoved you into Steve’s car with resumes in their hands. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 

“You put your mom down as a reference?” Robin questions Steve as you all get out of the car. She had agreed to proofread it after you politely declined, stating that if you proofread anything Steve wrote, it might ruin your relationship. 

“Yeah, why not?” Steve slams his door, straightens his shirt, and grabs your hand as you walk inside. “She’s like, super well respected.”

You share a look with Robin. “Rich kids,” you both groan at the same time. As much as you love Steve, you’ll neve quite get over how well connected he is. It’s bizarre and slightly terrifying how much the Harrington name can get you in this town.

“Whatever, call me a rich kid, but it’s my car you guys get free rides in.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re such a dingus.”

“I didn’t ask to be here,” you remind Steve, though you thank him when he holds the store’s door open for you and Robin. “I think this could count as kidnapping.”

Robin bumps her hips against yours. “Not technically. Besides, I thought we agreed to leave our kidnapping days behind us after Erica?”

You shove the teen and follow her into the store. You look around at all the movies, slightly impressed. You’ve never really visited Family Video before, only really stopping by if you were picking up Dustin from the arcade next door. The store is nice, albeit small, but you can see Steve and Robin enjoying themselves. There’s good music, few customers, and the uniformed vest is less mortifying than Scoop’s small shorts and sailor hats. “It’s not so bad in here.”

“Why thank you, pretty lady.” A greasy looking man at the register smiles at you, leaning over it in a very unappealing manner. His name tag informs you that his name is Keith.

Steve immediately steps in front of you and stares the guy down. “She doesn’t need you thanking her, buddy.”

You can tell that he wants to say more, but you see the “general manager” on Keith’s name tag and quickly try to deescalate the situation. If your idiot boyfriend wants the job, he can’t piss off the guy hiring. “Steve, why don’t we take a look around while Robin does all the talking?”

“What–” He doesn’t have a chance to argue, you’re already pulling him down a random aisle, throwing a quick “good luck!” to Robin as you leave. 

She talks with Keith, and it seems to be going well. She shows him their resumes, smiles at him kindly. before she shouts across the store to Steve. “Dingus, what are your three favorite movies?”

Steve nearly drops the movie he had been looking at. “Uh, Animal House?” You can practically hear Robin’s disappointed sigh from where you stand, and Keith looks unimpressed. Panicked, Steve whispers to you, “What are my favorite movies?”

“I don’t know!” You hiss, frantically trying to get this poor man a job. “Just, name two other movies. Animal House can’t be too bad, right?”

“Star Wars,” Steve manages to get out, now walking back to the register. You stand next to him, looking nervously at Robin, who makes a pained noise at his responses. 

The manager stares blankly at him. “A New Hope?”

“A new what now?”

You drop your head into your hands and sigh. He’s hopeless. Already knowing it’s a lost cause, you mumble to him, “It’s a Star Wars movie, Steve.”

He snaps his fingers. “Right! Yeah, it’s the one with the teddy bears, isn’t it?” Steve makes what you think is supposed to be an Ewok sound, which only makes you sigh again. Sensing he’s fucked up, Steve tries to backtrack. “No? Uh… Oh! The one that just came out, the movie. The one with DeLorean and Alex P. Keaton and he’s trying to bang his mom.”

“Oh, dear.” It’s a trainwreck, one you can’t look away from, and Robin can only shake her head at you. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” 

“Stop talking.”

“Uh, yeah.” Steve clears his throat, he knows he’s rambling. Had he known he would have a goddamn pop quiz about movies, he wouldn’t have dragged you here for the interview. “Those are my top three. Classics.”

Keith looks between you, Steve, and Robin. He points to Robin first, “You start Monday.” He points to Steve, “You start never.” And then he points to you, “You can start whenever.”

“Okay, I get why you’re telling me no,” Steve waves a hand in front of you, “but she didn’t even apply!” 

You’re also confused by how this day is turning out, and you look at Robin, wide eyed and pleading. She’s good with people, Keith seems to like her. When she sees you silently begging her to fix this, Robin sighs and steps in front of Steve. “Will you just, um… Will you guys give us a minute?” 

“Why?” Steve doesn’t move, and you want to throw a shoe at him. 

“Let’s go, pretty boy.” You grab the back of his shirt and yank him back to the aisle of movies. He doesn’t fight you, he simply accepts his fate and allows you to drag him away. Before turning the corner, you nod at Keith. “Thanks for the job offer, but you should really give it to the guy I’m currently dragging.”

Robin snickers at Steve’s offended huff as the two of you leave, before she starts trying to convince the manager to let Steve work there. From where you stand, it seems like a heated discussion. You try to lean closer, nosey, and while you’re distracted, Steve runs into a life-sized cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates wearing a red bikini. 

He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. “Shit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Own any red bikinis?”

You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.”

“I can sleep right now and find out–”

“I will flick you again.”

“A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”

– 

When the Byers move, you spend the entire day fighting back tears as you help them pack. 

You spent the night in Jonathan’s room, both of you dreading the morning to come. Neither of you had slept, instead spending the entire night taking turns sharing your favorite memories together. The day you met. The time a dog chased you. When Jonathan mistook your sweater for his and wore it to school. Late night drives. Movie nights with your brothers. You relive it all that night. 

As the morning sunlight began to stream into Jonathan’s room, the warmth the memories brought started to fade away. Slowly, as the sun rose, you and Jonathan packed his room. You helped him organize his vinyl's, sort through his mixtapes. When he isn’t looking, you steal a few t-shirts and flannels from his closet. He won’t notice they’re gone until he’s halfway to California. 

When it gets too much, seeing all of Jonathan’s life dwindling down to only a few boxes, you wander into the living room and help Joyce pack as well. She sees the tears in your eyes and gives you things to do, but eventually you can’t take it anymore. You go into Will’s room, and it’s the same. You cry, he cries with you, and it’s bittersweet. The rooms empty, the boxes grow.

El’s room is the hardest to pack, she has so few items to call her own, and you’re both silent as you move through the room together. 

With each box that you tape full of things you grew up with, you feel a piece of your childhood being packed away as well. The plates you used to eat off of, the books you used to bring from your job, the toys you passed down to Will. It’s all there, pieces of you frozen in time.

As you tape a box labeled “games” in Jonathan’s messy handwriting, you hear Max and Lucas singing in the living room. The sound makes you smile. It’s one of Max’s better days, she’s teasing Dustin for singing with Suzie, and she’s in a good mood. The rest of the party keeps her occupied. The kids all arrived as early as Joyce allowed them to, Nancy and Mike were the first to knock on the door. 

You place the box next to the others and walk towards Jonathan’s room. He’s leaning against its door frame with Nancy beside him, and you join them. You stare at the empty room, the one you’ve called your second home ever since you were twelve. It hurts, seeing it stripped of everything. 

All of Jonathan’s boxes are in the living room, filled with the things that make him who he is. There’s a drawer in your room of things Jonathan has left over the years, and you’re never giving them back. They’re all you have left of him. 

You and Jonathan take in his barren room, and you sigh against the door frame. “It’s so… empty.”

Nancy crosses her arms. “Is that everything?”

“I guess so,” Jonathan stuffs his hands in his pockets. His room feels cold somehow, its emptiness devoids it of the warmth it once had. He can still hear your laughs echoing in the floorboards, he can still smell your perfume that clings onto the walls. There’s scuff on the closet door from the time the two of you thought it’d be a good idea to play blind-folded baseball in the small room. 

Jonathan steps into his room, taking it all one last time. The sunlight from his window illuminates his silhouette, making him appear even smaller within the room. “Seventeen years of my life… packed up in one day.”

His voice is melancholic, his body is sad. You nudge Nancy, nod your head in Jonathan’s direction, urging her to go after him. She nods, understands that you’re telling her to say goodbye, giving them the space to do so. She smiles at you appreciatively.

You do it because they love each other, but selfishly a part of you leaves because you can’t say goodbye just yet. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, following after Jonathan. 

You find El as she’s leaving Joyce’s room. She’s holding a piece of paper, clutched closely to her chest. There are tears in her eyes, though you know better than to ask why. It’s a sad day for everyone, you’ll let her grieve on her own. However, that doesn’t stop you from pulling the girl into a fierce hug. 

“I’ll miss you so much, sweetheart.” You mumble, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t know who’s going to paint my nails now.”

El laughs through her tears and holds you tight. “I can ask Mike to.”

You kiss her head again, close your eyes, and pray to whoever is above that this girl will stay who she is forever. That she will never change. Her kindness is genuine, her joy is admirable. All her life she only knew cruelty, and yet she still came out of it so full of love. “I’d love to hear how that goes.”

“I will write you,” El promises, and you nod eagerly at her. She pulls you in for one last hug before finally releasing you to go see Joyce. 

The woman greets you with a tired smile when you walk into her room. She’s kneeling on the floor, folding clothes. They’re baggier than what she normally wears, darker, and you finally realize that they’re Hopper’s. 

A lump forms in your throat. She shouldn’t be doing this alone, packing away the remnants of his life. “Here, let me help.”

Joyce accepts, and together you sit in comfortable silence as you go through the clothes Hopper left behind. They still smell like him, old cigarettes and whiskey. It’s a nostalgic scene, a part of you wishes you could keep one of his shirts. He had been dear to you, regardless of the constant bickering you faced with him. 

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Joyce speaks softly next to you, catching your attention. “At all.”

You look up at her, sucking in a breath. “I don’t… I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Byers.”

“The guilt, honey.” She places a hand on your arm, gentle as she always is with you. “I know you blame yourself for what happened to Will, but you shouldn’t. You have to let go of it. I want…” Joyce pauses, looks into your eyes the way a mother does to her daughter. “I want you to promise me that you’ll live the life that you deserve, because you’ve spent half of your life making sure my boys lived the lives that they deserved. Can you do that for me?”

“I…” You’re crying, you don’t know what to say. For years you’ve carried the guilt of Will’s disappearance, and for even longer you’ve done everything you could to ensure that he was loved. That Jonathan was loved. Never once had it felt like a burden to you, but Joyce’s words undoes something in you. “I promise.”

Joyce pulls you into her arms and hugs you, tears in her own eyes. She strokes your hair, hugs you as she’s always done since you were a little girl. She echoes the final words that Hopper told you. “You’re the best of them.”

You’re not sure how long you cry in Joyce’s arms, but when she soothes you and wipes your tears away, she tells you to go find Will. They’re leaving soon, he’ll want to see you, and you wish the woman one final goodbye before going to find her son. 

Will ends up being in the hallway, you find him just after he’s said goodbye to Mike. You note the longing in his eyes, the uncertainty in his posture as his friend leaves. There’s a wistful look on his face, one that you once had on your own when Jonathan was around. Even if Will may not know yet, you do. 

“Hey, little bee.”

He turns around, the softness in his eyes when he sees you makes you homesick. “Y/N!”

Will buries his face in your chest, and you hug him just as tightly back. He’s grown so much since you first met him. He’s no longer the shy little boy who had been afraid of his own shadow, and you can’t believe you won’t get to finish watching him grow up. “I swear, you’re going to be taller than me next time I see you. Won’t be able to call you little bee anymore.”

“I’ll always be your little bee,” Will squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go of you. 

“Good,” you ruffle his hair, making him to laugh. “I’ll miss you, but I’m sure you already know that.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Will’s voice is wet, more tears come. He pulls away from you, he looks as if he wants to say something, but he stops himself. As if he’s afraid of something.

You frown. “Hey, what is it?”

“I’m scared,” The words rush from his mouth. “What if… What if I don’t make any friends?” He lowers his voice, looks around nervously, before trusting to say the words out loud to you. “I–I’m different, Y/N.”

Will’s fear hurts you to see, you wish you could do more, promise him that it will all be okay, but you can’t. Instead, all you can do is kiss his cheek and hope he can feel all the love you have for him within it. All you can do is remind him that you will love him through it all. “You’re the bravest kid I know. I have no doubt that you’ll be fine. I mean, you’ll have Jonathan and El with you, but if you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away. I love you, and that will never change.”

You stroke the boy’s cheek with your finger, and he leans into the gentle touch. “I’m rooting for you, always.”

Will squeezes you tight when he hugs you for the last time. He thanks you, his body relaxes into yours, and you know that in the end he’ll be okay. He’s a brilliant kid, he’s been through more than anyone else his age ever has. He’s resilient, his kindness is his strength, you just hope that he can recognize that himself one day. 

As you pull away from the hug, Will’s eyes catch on someone, you turn around. It’s Jonathan, standing by the front door, waiting for you. 

It’s time to say goodbye. 

Taking a deep breath, you walk towards him, and Jonathan takes your hand and guides you to the porch outside. Everyone else is still inside, packing. You sit side by side in silence, absorbing the final remaining moments alone with each other. Saying goodbye to your childhood best friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 

A ladybug crawls on a leaf next to you, a bee flies past you and lands on a sunflower nearby, and a bird chirps in the blue sky above. You rest your head on Jonathan’s shoulder, he presses a kiss to your temple. Your fingers interlock and the cool September air surrounds you.

“I made you something,” Jonathan breathes out, clears his throat. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a mixtape, its front covered with a piece of paper listing all the songs on it. “I, uh, used the money I won from the betting pool to make it. Dustin was pretty annoyed with me for winning.”

You snort at the image of your brother berating your friend for winning a betting pool about how long it’d take Steve to ask you out. Taking the mixtape from Jonathan, you read the songs. There’s eight songs on it, the first one being a Beatles song from your childhood; you don’t know how Jonathan knew that. Though most of them are familiar, the writing on the paper is old, faded with age. “How long have you been making this?”

Jonathan looks away from you and swallows. “A while, I guess. Listen to it after I leave, okay? That way, if you hate it, I’ll never have to know.” His demeanor is odd, there’s something he’s not telling you, but it’s your last day with him. You leave it alone for now, not wanting to ruin it. 

“You’re not allowed to find a new best friend.” You tell him instead, the silence becoming too much to bear. It’s a joke, though truthfully you don’t want Jonathan to find another best friend. He’s supposed to be yours, only yours, and you’re supposed to be his. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Jonathan lets out a soft laugh, and you’re going to miss feeling the way his body moves as he does so. He sucks in a breath, releases it slowly, and shakes his head. “I mean, we were kids together, bug.”

You start to cry, and he does as well. You’ve never had to say goodbye to each other before. Not like this. The two of you sit on the porch of Jonathan’s childhood home and cry. You cry into his neck, he buries his face into your hair, and it’s all so unfair. 

Jonathan touches his forehead to yours. You look into his eyes and know that your childhood will always live within him, and his within you. Jonathan brings his finger up to your bee necklace, his ladybug ring knocks against the pendant. The jewelry glistens in the sunlight. 

“Bee, we were more than just kids together.”

And it’s true. You were everything together. Now, you have to figure out how to be everything while apart. 

– 

The last of the boxes are placed in the moving van. Everyone is crying, you’re all gathered around one another, hugging and saying goodbye. 

You hold El tight and whisper good luck to her. You remind Will that everything will be okay, knowing how scared he’s been of high school and remorseful that he has to do it all alone. The kids all cry as they share the final hugs, Jonathan and Nancy cry as they hold one another. Everyone says goodbye, and you watch them with tears in your eyes. You turn to Joyce to kiss her cheek, but she grabs your arm instead. 

“Remember what you promised me, okay?” She catches your eye, makes sure you hear what she’s telling you. “Live the life that you deserve.”

“I will,” you exhale, and she seems content with that. Joyce hugs you, kisses your cheek, and you tell her to drive safe as she gets into the van. 

Jonathan stands by his car, waiting for you, and you pull the boy into your arms. He crashes against you, clutches you to his chest, and you breathe him in one final time. “I’ll always love you the most, bee.”

“And I’ll always love you the most, bug.” 

Joyce drives away first, El in the van with her, before Jonathan and Will follow. The car pulls out of its driveway one final time, and you hold Nancy’s hand as you both cry. Slowly, their cars fade into the distance, and one by one the kids hop on their bikes and pedal away. No one wants to stay, the empty house feels too permanent, solemn. Eventually Nancy gets into her own car, wishing you a quiet goodbye, until it’s just you and your brother standing in front of the house. 

Dustin stays beside you, as he always does, and you take a deep breath. Nothing will ever be the same again. 

You take one last look at the Byers home, the house you grew up in and discovered pure love and joy and naivety in, and inhale the final scent of your childhood. Dandelions are in bloom, its yellow surrounds the home, soon they will wilt and its seeds will litter the sky

Joyce’s words ring in your head.

It’s time to live the life that you deserve. You’re on your own now, though you know that really you aren’t. Dustin is next to you, Steve and Robin are waiting at your house with movies stolen from work because they knew how hard today would be. Your mother has your favorite cookies ready and waiting for you. Mike and the others have already planned their first letter to Will. 

The charm bracelet from the party and Steve is cool against your wrist. 

You’re no longer the scared, angry twelve year old you had been when you first moved to Hawkins. You’re loved, you have so many incredible people in your life who now get to watch you grow up into someone new. 

Slowly, you exhale your childhood, with a single promise of keeping it within you forever. To live the life that Joyce has told you that you deserve.

And you believe her. 

[END OF SEASON THREE]

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

[capricornlevi]

no surprises - toji x reader

wc 1.6k - hitman!toji x mobwife!reader, fem!reader, strangers to lovers -dark elements (but not really related to sex -- toji breaks into reader's house to assassinate mob husband), cheating (technically -- reader's husband is a piece of shit lol)

nsfw, mdni

Toji hates it when his hits have wives or girlfriends.

As cruel a bastard as he may be, the thought of unnecessary collateral makes him uneasy to say the least. It's messy, too, unnecessary and uncomfortable. When one of his targets has a wife there's a sure guarantee she'll be by his side more often than not. It increases the risk for all parties, whether they know of their involvement or not.

He wonders why these men never have the decency to get a divorce before involving themselves in shit like this.

And so, as he carefully picks the lock to your kitchen window, he hopes that tonight's job is clean. That you'll stay out of his way.

Kill the guy, clean up, and ideally, get out without even waking you.

So imagine his surprise when he makes his way inside as planned, turns down the hallway to get to the bedroom he's so carefully mapped this past week, only to find you standing pyjama-clad in the hallway with arms crossed, looking at him with an expression one could only describe as inconvenienced.

"He's not here," you mumble, the words laced with sleep but still pointed.

Toji prides himself on being quick on his feet, but in this rare instance, he's lost for words. He doesn't even draw his weapon.

"Uh ... hm ... what?" he finally decides, though the words leave him without much active decision-making on his part, spilling out into the cold night air.

"He's not here," you repeat, enunciating each word slowly. "Did you not hear me? Though that would explain why you made such a fucking racket breaking in."

"What the fuck-"

"And you're replacing that lock, by the way," you spit, eyes heated with frustration as you give him a once over. "I heard you give up and break it."

Toji's head could explode right here and now. How has this ... this cannot be happening ... he's carried out hits numbering in the three digits, and not one target has ever seen him coming, much less the wife of some low-ranking gangster who stole the wrong amount of money from the wrong people.

Still, you don't shy away from him, keeping your gaze fixed on his increasingly confused face.

"What do ya mean he isn't here?" Toji huffs then, finally realising the futility of this situation. Standing there stupidly isn't going to improve his image, he needs to cut to the chase. "Is he out?"

You huff a laugh. "You could say that."

He arches a scarred brow. "He's dead?"

"May as well be," you answer plainly, devoid of any sympathy or grief. "Kicked him out on Sunday. Tried to steal my engagement ring and then went after my parents, mumbling some shit about collecting their life insurance policy even though the idiot isn't even named on it. So I made a call and the name of his hotel is with your bosses now."

"Then why didn't they--"

You roll your eyes, exasperated. "How should I know? They probably sent some other guys to the hotel and kept you here in case that worm came wriggling back."

Toji's not sure why, but he believes you -- probably because of the unafraid, unemotional manner in which you're delivering this information. As though you're a teacher scolding him for a failed assignment.

He releases his grip on the weapon tucked at his hip -- he doesn't even remember at which point he went to grab it -- silently swearing at a wasted evening.

Sure, he'll still get the flat rate for a call-out like this one, but if he has proof of death he gets triple pay. He could really use that this month; he likes having his lights stay on for longer than forty-eight hours at a time, and figured tonight would've been an easy job, particularly with how stupidly your husband has been acting these last few months.

"Uh ... okay. Sorry for inconveniencin' ya," he mumbles, figuring it best to leave now without wasting either of your time any further.

He could stay here and argue more, but he's not in the mood. He needs to get back. Plus, he's already disrupted your night enough -- as curtly as you've addressed him these past few minutes, he can't say he doesn't see where your frustration is coming from.

In this short interaction, he's developed a sort of begrudging respect for this woman who views an assassination attempt in the same way most would view a parking ticket.

"Wait!" you call out just as he turns around. He hesitates -- though you don't seem like the type to call the police given your knowledge of your husband's business.

Maybe you're not finished giving him shit for this embarrassment of a botched assignment?

"Yeah?" he answers dutifully, brushing his hair from his eyes with a tired swipe of his hand, turning back to face you.

"Want to have a drink with me?" you ask straight-forwardly, arms still crossed and expression unmoving. "He left his 20-year whiskey behind, and I haven't had new company since he weaselled his way into my life."

"I-"

"If you've nothing better to do, anyway."

This woman ...

He has never had as difficult a time reading someone in his entire lie.

"Well?" you press, a hint of impatience growing in that beautiful voice. "What do you want to do?"

Surprise once against takes precedence over any other emotion in Toji's body.

Tonight couldn't get any weirder. He's sure of it.

Except it definitely can, as he discovers just thirty minutes later, with you sitting atop him as he's spread out on your bed, riding him so hard the bed rattles against the wall.

This is a little fucked up. You both know it. He came here to kill your husband, but it's so hard for him to care about minor details like that when he sees how your tits bounce with every thrust upwards, how your face looks when it's torn in pleasure.

Your husband is a bigger idiot than he thought.

You haven't been touched like this in a long time, haven't had someone's hands on you like you deserve, and that thought enrages him for some reason.

His focus for tonight has shifted entirely. He's no longer out to kill, to hurt, his one responsibility is to make you cry out on his cock, on his tongue, on his fingers, until both of your voices are worn out and hoarse.

You're so pretty like this, so responsive to every twirl of his thumb and jerk of his hips.

Though -- and he hates to admit it -- you're exerting some control over him as well. His well-worn self-discipline is being tested like never before. On your couch just a few minutes ago, with his mouth spread against you and your leg tossed over his shoulder, you had managed to then manoeuvre yourself until your fist was wrapped around his cock, your pretty fingers stroking him until his breaths sounded choked and desperate, until a flush spread up his chest to his neck and jawline.

He had to still your wrist to keep from coming all over his own chest. That would lose him any shred of credibility he had left.

He's obsessed with the way you kiss him, too, so hungry and desperate with no sign of that earlier unshakability you possessed. He's sure you still have yourself in some semblance of control -- though he barely knows you, he knows you wouldn't relent that quickly -- but you release yourself a little, sinking into it with a quiet moan that sends ripples up his spine.

And now, with your hips sitting flush against his own, it's hard to imagine caring about a single other thing than the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.

You take him so well, every inch of him, knowing exactly what to say to drive him insane. In turn, he learns what he can from your reactions, each microexpression showing him how you like to be touched.

You toss your head back, that beautiful throat gulping down gasps of air in between cries of Toji's name, shoulders tight with the tension of keeping yourself seated on him.

He gives you more when you ask for it, pumping up into you and relishing the answering groans and mewls of pleasure.

(Honestly, he'd give you anything you wanted from him. He'd give you the shirt off his back if you requested it with those pretty doe eyes and your lips curled into that sly little smile.)

A familiar heat curls in his stomach but in a way he's entirely unfamiliar with; usually, it builds slowly and reliably, bit by bit, but this time it rises erratically and without any sign of when he's approaching the edge.

This is dangerous. You're dangerous for him, you have him in the palm of your hand and hold the ability to crush him into tiny pieces if you so wish. It scares him while also sending pulses of pleasure straight to his cock, coupled with the feeling of your throbbing clit as he circles it with his thumb --

Thankfully, you fall apart at the same time, spasms of pleasure overtaking every single thought in either of your heads.

As you settle into the afterglow, Toji is in no rush to move you or shift himself. He runs a roughened hand over your thigh, the skin smooth as silk, marvelling at how you shiver under the touch.

He just looks up at you, that hint of confusion from earlier still present but accompanied by something else.

Strange, he thinks to himself. Not a wasted evening after all.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

With Vander

|| Vi x fem!reader

|| Warnings; slightly altered story, just before Vi leaves to go to Vander, reader begging Vi to stay, Vi being blunt with Powder, what ifs, mentions of death, scared reader, teasing between Vi and reader, Vi blaming herself

|| Summary; when Vi's about to set off to find Vander, reader tries to stop her and ends up staying behind with Powder.

Requests open!!

Started; December 24th

Finished; December 24th

HurtCember2024; Day 22, Don't Leave

~~~

What was she thinking? You looked absolutely dumbfounded as you stared at Vi. Watching her getting ready to leave and go find Vander. Everything in your gut was telling you this was a bad idea. Vander wasn't the type of guy to do something without reason, if he put himself up like this... there was no telling what kind of situation they'd find themselves in.

"Vi, wait- don't leave," it was a pathetic beg and you knew it. But you just... you couldn't let her go. Something was going to go down. You didn't want her getting caught in it. What if she didn't come back alive? What then?

Vi turned to look at you, a frown on her face as she saw the fear in your eyes. Couldn't you understand? Understand how she was feeling? She had to go. It was supposed to be her. Not Vander. It was her fault he was taken," I have to. Stay here, I'll be back. With Vander." There was an overwhelming sense of determination in her eyes. How could she be so sure? You couldn't even see a single flicker of doubt.

"Vi..." You murmured, praying to whatever Gods were listening that this wasn't the last time you'd see your girlfriend. You really, really hoped it wasn't. You'd already had your future with her planned out. She couldn't leave before it even really started.

"I'll be okay, cute face. Stay here with Pow, okay? Keep her safe for me," Vi cupped your cheek. Her words soft. If Vi was afraid, she was clearly doing a good job at hiding it. Her lips met with yours. You held it for however long you could before she pulled away from you. Giving you one last confident smirk," I'll be back, alright? So, don't worry."

"I'll always worry about you. You're such an idiot," you tried for a laugh. It came out more forced than you'd intended.

"Well yeah, but I'm your idiot, aren't I?" She winked at you and your cheeks flushed.

"I love you, you dork."

"I love you too... bigger dork," Vi nudged you with a teasing grin and you swatted her arm, earning a laugh from her. Powder walked over to the two of you, her eyes looking just as determined as Vi's.

"I wanna help," Powder declared. You shared a look with Vi. She was too young. On top of that, there were just too many risks with this one.

"You're going to stay behind with Y/N, okay Pow? We won't take long," Vi crouched down to her sister's height. Giving her head a playful rub. Messing with her hair.

Powder didn't seem to happy about that," but-"

"No buts this time. You're not ready," Vi was blunt. Probably the bluntest you'd heard her, at least towards Powder. Her sister was usually a soft spot.

You got down to one knee, cupping the kid's cheek with a smile," we'll have fun. How about... you take me to the little secret arcade you guys got? Beat me at some shooting games. Again."

Powder seemed to consider it for a moment, Vi gave you an appreciative look and started to leave," I wanna go with Vi!"

"You're staying with Y/N, that's finale." Then the three of them left. Leaving you alone with Powder.

"I'm going with Vi. You can try to stop me, but it would be better just to help me," geez. Powder was more determined than her sister. You sighed, watching the little blue haired girl get one of her monkey bombs.

"Pow... we shouldn't go-"

And she was already off at a run.

"Ah- hey- POWDER!" You bolted after her.

...we all know how the rest goes.

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 13: First Impressions

Woo! DRDT! It is time! Time for despair! Let’s go! My excitement has not faded in the slightest from last week; if anything, it’s stronger than before. Here are my first impressions of this week’s episode!!!

Spoilers for CH2 EP13

CW Suicide, violent murder, mafia mention, suicide, hanging, self-harm.

It’s starting! Levi’s got some explaining to do. Will someone (say, Eden) have an interesting reaction?

Alright, J’s not the one I expected to have first reaction, but cool.

“You…” Is Ace okay? 

“Ah. I didn’t expect that.” Rose’s legendary reaction.

YOU CANNOT “THAT’S WACK” THIS SITUATION WHIT

Oh, so people know, but the court struck it. Interesting.

Ah, there’s the Ace reaction. Also, “no way Hope’s Peak scouted a murderer” but you have a poisoner on another secret and an art forger, at least. Not the same level maybe, but still. 

“Don’t make the mistake of switching cause and effect.” Of course Hope’s Peak is responsible, that was my first gut instinct. God, it’s so shady in this universe.

Woo, Levi backstory! Three “old enemies?”

… Bro??? I don’t think any of us actually expected more than one murder, but I might be wrong on that. Self-defense, then two first degrees, huh?

“Were you in the mafia or something?” Thanks J.

“I don’t think I need to elaborate” No, you do. You really should elaborate. Please? For me?

“Who did you even kill?” And… Levi!Accomplice is looking rougher by the second. Then again, maybe she didn’t know.

Levi tracked two of them down, but doesn’t know who they were? How?

“That car I blew up once?” HUH???

“That’s… kind of a lot to admit all of the sudden.” True, Rose. I’m trying to see what he’s cooking, but I can’t tell.

How do you forget this? Jeez.

“How could you forget?” You know, Arturo, I was kinda irrationally worried Charles was about to throw in his secret phrase, but it’s cool that you avoided that. Thanks.

[For the uninformed; it’s theorized the characters will, at some point in the series, say the quotes hidden in the source code of their dedicated pages out loud, since Min and Arei both said theirs, and Xander’s could be in a flashback. That means that if a character says their secret quotes, their chances of dying go up drastically.]

“If you don’t care about murder, you could be the murderer.” (Paraphrased) Yes thanks Veronika not the point. 

“Almost as if you don’t care…” Great. I didn’t know where Levi was going with this, now I don’t know where Veronika is going with her schtick.

I’m surprised Ace is taking it relatively well [as in, not outwardly terrified]. I guess near death does that to someone.

Woo! Time frame! Junior high school! 

Interesting, so he didn’t start fashion because of the murder. That’s kinda what I was thinking, but I was wrong.

We’re getting our first crumbs of Hope’s Peak being ultra shady in main series! After Rose’s backstory ig. Unfortunately the “pretentious revolutionaries” aren’t here to “hand out tickets of lead” ← LGI brainrot

“It could also refer to the time I murdered my father.”

… 

???????????????????????????

You didn’t lead with that?! Also, what?! I laughed out loud at the fucking absurdity of the statement, but what?!

“It’s a bit of a bother.” The bothersome part is that they’re phrased vaguely and not that they reveal you’re a murderer, got it.

“Go back!” Thank you J.

What do you mean I think. Bro how many people have you killed? What in the name of Kirisaki Shidou [/ref]?

“Not even the police cared about a man like him.” ??? Also, wasn’t your dad a bad influence? You’ve mentioned him before, it didn’t sound that bad- Wait, is he lying? No way he’s lying. Hold on, let me watch more.

[In retrospect, I doubt he’s lying, but his story is certainly weird]

“I see no reason to remain hung up-” Then why are you bringing it up. I still can’t fucking tell what you’re trying to accomplish here.

Eden’s reaction is… neutral, I guess? Makes sense either way?

Eden!Culprit has always been hard to maintain during the trial, huh… Still took the tape though. And I guess it’s potentially interesting she’s getting this much dialogue about Levi’s thing. Teruko’s yet to speak this episode.

“I wonder if I should really tell the truth…” Bro what do you mean there’s more truth to tell?

Oh, hey, speaking of Teruko. And it seems she and I share a mind.

“I don’t care about people at all.” Ooooh, I like this. Some kind of condition?

I feel a little bit like Veronika, interested in hearing his experience with this. Feeling like Veronika is probably a bad thing.

“You’re still a stranger to me.” Levi’s quickly climbing the ranks of fave characters, btw. This is super interesting.

“But you’re a good person-” DO NOT “good person” right now, Eden! That’s a point to Levi!Accomplice, maybe? Maybe not? I don’t know what’s happening. And I still don’t get what Levi is trying to do here.

Double “good person?” Bro what is happening.

“I don’t personally care what happens to Ace.” Mood (that’s a joke I like Ace).

PFT- Ace’s reaction lol.

“But it is “good” to make sure someone else doesn’t die-” Goodbye Levi!Accomplice! I liked you, but I’m probably gonna go try to find other theories after this episode :p (This is a joke, btw; if I didn’t discount theories like Hu!Culprit when the new alibis came up, I’m not going to completely abandon Levi!Accomplice over this. But, just saying, there might be a few revisions to be made)

“Haha. You…” Ace breakdown! Breakdown! (I'm absolutely acting like Veronika now).

“I was right all along.” Yeah, Ace ‘can tell a hawk from a handsaw’ Markey, nice one. (Does anyone even know/remember why I’m referencing that line or is LGI too far in the past for that?)

New Ace sprite! Cool one too. Clutching his heart, Acevi shippers eating ig. 

“Good thing I didn’t fall for it. Not one bit.” Oh they’re eating GOOD good!

“There’s only one person in my whole life who I’ve ever been able to call my friend-” IS THAT A FUCKING TAYLOR REFERENCE?!?!?! Holy shit, I don’t know how many people are even gonna remember we have a canon name for that dude. I hope someone still has the screenshot of the deleted answer from the CH2 Part 1 Q&A. 

“I really hope you fucking die.” We are active in Trial 2 Part 2, huh? Between Arturo telling him to “shut his whore mouth” and this, Levi’s getting verbally jumped!

“You’re quite the interesting person, Levi” Please Veronika, give me the psychoanalysis.

Dude, that’s three “good person” drops all on Levi. Chat the importance of this phrase may have been slightly overexaggerated by me (then again, the list of “good person” people has yet to grow from last chapter).

“You act like a big pushover because-” This is the psychoanalysis I came to see!

I don’t know if I’d call it “intuitive understanding” but I guess Levi’s not fully wrong about Veronika.

Four “good person.” And that’s not counting Veronika’s “good people.”

Five. Also, this continues to be interesting. Why did Levi bring this up again?

“After looking at David, I thought being honest-” Okay that’s hilarious.

“Try looking in a mirror…” First David line of the episode, right? And it’s a nice one of course.

That’s six cases of “good person” in this chapter alone holy shit. At least it’s David, who still had counts.

“I apologize for this tangent” Then can you please explain why the tangent exists in the first place? Or is it really just because being honest is "good"?

[Spoilers. It really was because of that. What]

“I can’t believe there was a time I liked you.” Yeah Acevi is still eating good. I doubt the hostility is gonna drive the shippers away; that’s what they’re here for, right?

And of course Whit’s first line makes him look suspicious. Bro you have an alibi for the time of disappearance of fish and you didn’t take the tape from the gym, stop pretending to be the killer.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Thank you Hu, but let me jump to a conclusion. Is Levi not gonna explain why he revealed his secret beyond the honesty thing?

Okay J’s response is good too.

“No, [Arei] didn’t [talk to Levi about the secret]” Bro what the fuck are we even talking about anymore.

“I don’t have a defense” (Paraphrased) No but seriously what. I’m this close to ripping out my hair. What is he doing.

“We don’t have evidence [Levi is the murderer]” Thank you Teruko Tawaki for being one of three competent people in the building. This is affectionate, one of my favorite parts of the DRDT cast is that they all suck at class trials lol :p

Bro Whit is trying REALLY HARD to look like the murderer rn. I’m still not letting him convince me. Yet.

“I realized that motives alone are not concrete evidence.” Yayyyy! Progress!

“I feel a sneeze coming on…” Dude David and Teruko need to get into comedy, they’re fucking hilarious.

“One second please.” Hu I trusted you. Why. You’re revealing your secret, right?

“...I didn’t want you all to think less of me.” Aww, poor Hu. No one’s gonna think less of you, you’re doing awesome (I am assuming she has hopeless child btw).

“I wanted to believe the past never happened” Butterfly motif and “water as rebirth” symbolism go brrr. 

“I’ve always been a selfish person, haven’t I?” Hu please, you’re really nice, even if you go overboard at times.

“I will share my secret if you promise to immediately move on.” (Paraphrased) Good idea. It would probably be good to talk about it if she wants, but this is kinda not the time.

“I have Veronika’s secret, and she has mine.” Okay I did NOT expect her to reveal she had Veronika’s, but alright! That’s two more on the board, and two more most of us got right! At least the theorists are doing well on the secrets.

[Veronika agreeing to the pact] Bro what pact, how did you communicate that? Also, “I have such little interest in both of our secrets” is wild, but it makes sense given her personality. Recap foils go brr, I’ll sit down and think about this later.

“My own so-called secret isn’t even the worst thing I’ve done.” Uh…??? It’s just bombshell after bombshell, these episodes!

Oh, we are questioning the pact. I kinda thought they’d managed to do that in the trial, now I’m really curious. Please tell me we aren’t gonna have to ignore that question because of what Hu asked of them.

Shit.

“We’re not gonna talk about me?” Oh, Vero, I would love for them to talk about you, but I don’t think it’s gonna happen.

“Arei– Achoo!” WHEN I TELL YOU I CACKLED LIKE A MADPERSON HOLY SHIT

“Bless me! Also, excuse me! Wow, thank you for your support everyone!” WAIT IT GOT FUNNIER.

“I have another interruption–” Either it just got even funnier or he’s about to reveal Teruko’s secret and shit got serious, let’s see.

Oh, right. But, dude, I’m relatively sure the last two unclaimed secrets can’t be hers. Maybe the survivor’s guilt one, even though that felt like Xander’s? Are you absolutely certain you don’t have her secret?

“My family.” Figured she’d try that one. [She probably feels it's true to some extent].

Oh, now THAT’S a David sprite alright. Pretty sure that settles it, the most common theories for secrets during hiatus were all correct.

I’m guessing David’s still not gonna reveal it. We still need to see a Teruko teacher CG, and I don’t think we’re gonna have time for that if he brings it up.

“We did it!” Yeah he ain’t revealing shit. 

“Sir Light Pollution” is actually crazy. Do his eyes really emit light like a flashlight? That’d be really fucking funny actually.

Oh, it was actually funny because Whit is a boyfailure. Alright, joke understood. I smiled.

“I am truly impressed… by how bad that was.” And there I laughed!

“I’ve started to detect this trial isn’t about me.” Iconic of you, Sir Attention Whore /affectionate

Thank you J.

Eden bro can we please let Teruko speak. Also you are not helping the culprit allegations miss Tobisa.

“What happened between you and Arei?” Jesus, we really cannot get to the fucking murder, huh? Fair, though, I’m really curious about this too, though I feel we’re gonna skip past it without an answer or David’s just not gonna respond seriously.

“I know that she’s dead and that she’s never coming back.” We’re getting worryingly close to your secret quote wording here, Eden. You sure you wanna go this route?

What are we, on seven “good person”s now?

Oh shit are we actually getting an answer?

YES! YES! YES! LET’S GO! I wasn’t expecting this!

Eight. Though I think this one’s repeated, though I might be wrong.

Yeah, this is old dialogue.

Man, Arei’s and Eden’s VAs did amazing work this episode!

“That makes me feel really relieved.” Lie. She didn’t say that. That’s my gut reaction, anyways, I could be wrong.

“I was pissed at you for a bit.” Oh shit chat David’s not getting cut off. This might actually be true. What the fuck?

Oh, also. Nine. David again.

“There’s not even anything positive…” Okay this hurts a fucking ton. If David’s lying, I want him dead. If this is true, holy shit this is sad.

“A metamorphosis like that…” Jeez this is actually getting sad sad. Auch.

“I’ll never be a good person.” Ten, and the tenth hurts a LOT. I don’t think David’s lying, members of the jury. Holy shit this is sad. 

“It turns out that you might be a total piece of shit…” Holy shit I miss Arei already.

Eleven.

“Like Santa Claus…” Didn’t Charles bring up something like that talking with Teruko in the computer room? Interesting connection. I guess not “all that glitters,” yeah.

“It’s okay that I’ll never be a good person, because no one else can be either.” Okay, first; twelve. Second, ouch.

[I know my commentary's not exactly thrilling. Forgive me, I'm suffering]

“Even Eden.” And what does that mean?

[Eden with blood on her hands CG]

…

HUH????????????????????????????????????????

I can’t- Words- Not working. Hold on, I gotta see what the fuck is happening here.

[Pan to fork]

I’M EVEN MORE CONFUSED THAN BEFORE! WHAT THE FUCK?!

It has four prongs, which matches the Xander one. Did Eden take out Xander’s eye? How in the actual fuck? No chance, right? I’m just going insane?

“I’m sure even Eden has hurt someone” (Paraphrased). Brain is still not working. Sorry.

“Even someone like her must have made a mistake she couldn’t take back” WE ARE GETTING DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO SECRET QUOTE WORDING!

We’re just moving on? That shit didn’t happen? I’m fucking sorry?

I can’t even- Does this imply fucking MM!Eden? I don’t think so, she doesn’t look like she wanted to- WAS it Xander she stabbed? Again, how? What? I’m so confused. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO US DEV! I NEED ANSWERS!!!

“Second ever friend…” Ouch ouch ouch-

Another “good people” btw.

[Arei CG] That’s the fucking- THAT LOOKS LIKE THE FUCKING GIRL FROM LGI?!?!?!

Like, obviously they look different, but that’s the same pose, with the hand and everything- WHAT?!

Is Arei/David a ship? It’ll probably be one after this. 

“Nothing-” You absolute piece of shit. Holy shit David, when I get my hands on you David…

“Nothing else happened between us, I promise.” Wow. Who would’ve thunk this is how I come to fucking despise a man so much while he simultaneously rises in my fave characters ranking, huh? Holy hell.

“One hundred percent promise-” I get more mad every line. That’s good character writing, folks. Jesus.

I can’t read Eden this episode. Still think she’s the culprit lol.

“Finally.” Yeah, Teruko. Same.

[By the way, the next section has a lot of me rambling about my own theories, so if you don't know them, here's a link to the latest, now likely outdated version]

“From that low of height…” I like where we’re going.

“I’m starting to realize how long it's taken to get here.” (Paraphrased) Yeah, Whit. Yeah.

“Some people had to wait one year and five months-” PFFFT- Also Whit’s reaction means he’s not fully fourth wall aware, which is cool.

NON-STOP DEBATE! LET’S DO IT! 

[Sees truth bullet] Yes! The jugs were used as weights! Tell me I’m right about this!

YEAH! I GOT IT RIGHT! Also Veronika’s “consent” animation is… uuh… very ‘Ronika if you catch my drift. I love it!

“Those jugs ended up breaking…” You know it! I wonder if maybe they didn’t have time to clean the fish? But they could have gotten water literally elsewhere, so they clearly did use them for alibi.

“The jugs alone aren’t enough…” (Paraphrased). Yeah, we gotta go higher. Like, the girders at the top…?

“... rafters on the ceiling.” Yeah!!! Wrong name but I also got this right!

“It must have been one long rope…” Or two, because you need the stopper.

“Oh, wait, you’re agreeing with me. Yes.” Funny, laughed.

“The rafters were way too high…” Ball of clothes, come on.

“...something like a pulley…” Yeah, Whit knows what I’m talking about! The fact he’s being helpful makes him less suspicious. Finally, he managed to open his mouth without incriminating himself of something!

“High location…” Are we actually doing stopper rope? My guess is that that’s when we’ll get teacher Teruko.

“In drop hanging…” Okay, first, love the monologue. Second, is there a reason you know so much about drop hanging? Did your mother…? I guess it’s not necessary. I also came to the same conclusions and I don’t have any history with the stuff. 

“We also know she didn’t hit the ground-” Does anyone have a counter of tasteless Whit jokes? Just checking.

“Aren’t I so smart…” And we’re back to kinda incriminating ourselves, because you're denying pulley method. Fantastic.

WOO! ANOTHER NON-STOP! Let me guess, “spinny thing” is the truth bullet?

“Tape on carousel.” Close enough. Although, hold on, are we actually gonna go “stopped with hands?” No chance, right?

Also am I stupid or does Arturo’s VA sound different in the debates?

Yeah btw Levi!Accomplice is dead and buried, I need to find other ways for Eden to have done this.

I like that Teruko still calls it a spinny thing :p

Wow, everyone’s correcting her, huh? I guess I’m the only one that appreciates her smh.

“...when I need to correct the killer’s grammar.” Funny comeback, but you know, the letter does actually have quite a few spelling errors.

Yay! Teacher Teruko! She looks so cute with glasses!

Also I cannot believe it. These Microsoft-Paint ass diagrams remind me of when I did them too lol.

Oh, shit, under the seesaw! That’s a good one, Teruko! I didn’t catch that. (Then again, I always thought the seesaw was in a different place, but oh well).

Is that dog ears Whit? My guy, you know Charles dislikes dogs, right? Then again, you do canonically have negative rizz, so :p

Oh, tying the rope! Not quite a stopper rope, but same concept. Yeah, would work. Good one Teruko!

“The carousel is made of smooth metal.” THAT’S WHAT THE TAPE WAS FOR! Clutch.

Oh shit, is the cliffhanger going to be the tape’s origin?

“I’ve seen this murder method before.” Okay, wait. One, no origin of tape. That’s big for Eden!Culprit: My current guess is that someone (ie Veronika) will want to discuss the Ace-Nico thing, which will lead to them discovering Eden took the tape. Two, what the fuck do you mean you’ve seen this before?!

“You have?” Looking kinda worried there, Eden…

“And so have you.” Okay am I forgetting something? Min’s execution wasn’t like this, what the hell…

“Me?” Eden, honey, the allegations…

“We’re going to talk about a different case…” Oh shit Teruko’s got the Ace method figured out? I would really love to hear that because I have no idea what the hell was happening with that one. Also, I called it! Didn’t expect it to be Teruko who brought us back to the Ace case, but still. 

“Explain yourself, Nico.” YEAH!!!! I’m actually really excited. I’m gonna look into revising my theory on that case before the next episode, see if I can figure it out, since I think the old methods I’ve discussed with others don’t quite line up with what Teru’s describing. 

What an episode!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

General Thoughts:

Holy shit. Just. So much happened. It’s too much peak.

The Eden CG is the first thing on my mind; that’s crazy. Did she really take out Xander’s eye? I have zero idea what else I would be looking at. Certainly not MM!Eden, too obvious, but I don’t know what’s happening there. No fucking idea. I might make a more detailed post when I get my thoughts in order, but all I’m saying; the possibility the girl she kissed was Mai? That Mai told her about Teruko, and Eden attacked Xander in the pre-prologue killing game to protect Teruko? Hmm…

The secrets are huge, too. Nothing wild, given like 75% of the fandom had assumed these secrets anyways, but still nice to get them all. The Levi explanation was fascinating, but I don’t know what the fuck it has to do with the trial. Was it really a pointless aside? I don’t know…

The Arei scene was fucking insane even outside the Eden CG. Stabbed through the heart, haven’t felt that sad since Min’s death, and, yeah…

Not to mention, the fucking “Ideal Country Woman from LGI” looking ass frame. At least I finally got my answer; it was a wrist bend, not a glove. 

And David. David. Why are you like this. I genuinely can’t tell why he does anything anymore.

Finally, I love the Taylor mention, that’s insane. And Veronika has a darker secret? She really wants those MM allegations, huh? Jokes aside, I’m really curious about both those things. I kinda wonder if somehow the students will see the motive videos from Trial 1, since we’re hearing about Taylor and I’m hoping Alyssa later.

Just… Holy shit this episode was awesome. Cannot wait for next week.

First Impression Murder Theory Updates

It’s looking like Levi!Accomplice will end up being a nice AU and nothing more, although I’m not 100% ruling it out. That said, I’m still pretty confident in Eden!Culprit, especially with how we mentioned the tape on the spinny thing was easy to grip, but no one’s made the connection to the gym yet. 

The big thing to solve in the Arei case, then, is how Eden got the fish. There’s a few other accomplices she could have, but those are looking rough unless she somehow got Arei to do it. That said, I’m considering the possibility that she took the minnows ultra early, before Nico started feeding them. That would explain how they didn’t notice there were a few missing the night before; they just never counted the ones in the jugs in the first place. That has issues too, but I’ll see about it. 

That said, I’m pretty happy with myself! I got a lot of the major points of the pulley system right. The only thing is the “stopper rope vs tie a knot” thing, but the principle is similar enough. We’ll see about things like the ball of clothes to put the rope over the rafters. There’s still plenty of murder to discuss. 

As for the Ace case… It’ll need a full review later. If it’s supposed to be similar to Arei’s case, I really have no clue what the hell was happening there. Though I guess the ridiculous wire circuit I made might actually have some merit, given we're doing some kind of pulley?

... Maybe not :p

I have no further insight; I just need to look at it again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Watching this episode took me like two hours and a half while writing this… this almost 4k word post… so… yeah. Gods save me if there actually is an hour long episode left. See ya’!

[haruka-norikoyo]

Monoma x reader who is Mirio’s younger sibling Part 3

I’ll make the next part more romantic I swear ☹️ Unless you guys like the look into the everyday life of a relationship? Like I’ll still make the next part centered around the relationship. Not that I, single since forever would know. Also, I gave Nejire a little sister cause why not.

Other parts:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Part 3/?

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

Neito Monoma is not one to admit fear often. Although, even if he were to now, it is currently evident on his face as he stands in ground beta among the rest of his classmates. Stiff as a board. “What’s wrong, Monoma? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” Yanagi whispers. Which is ironic cause her quirk is poltergeist. Not to mention the guy staring at him with a smile that would go unsuspected did go through the walls of his room.

Tsuburaba leans back to their one sided conversation. “Is it me, or is that upperclassman staring at you very intently?” Yes, astute observation Tsuburaba thank you— HELP ME!

He’s sure no one can feel the murderous aura being directed at him because well— who would think that?! The guy’s got an innocent looking face and is one of the top contenders to be a pro in the school! Neito recounts his whole life in his head while three of the two introduces themselves. The raven haired third year isn’t far from how he looks at the moment— ready to shrivel up on the ground to get away from this situation.

“So, ah, basically, for class 1-A, we did a practical demonstration. It worked pretty well, so I’ll be doing the same thing with you guys!” Mirio says.

Some of his classmates glance at him at the mention of class 1-A. Yet, much to their confusion and concern he didn’t so much as react, nor grumble about class 1-A getting to do the training before them.

Awase nudges him. “Monoma, are you okay..?”

But, he’s in no state of mind to respond. I’m dead. I’m so dead. It’s confirmed. Neito lifts his head up to the sky, where he’d probably be going soon. It’s been a good year with (y/n). I regret nothing. Though, no, if only I get to say I love you to them one more time. I’d do anything to see them—

The gates of Ground Beta creak as they open. There, his beacon of light stands. His hope has come! Panting, looking like they’ve ran all across the seven seas— no seriously, you’re drenched in sweat. You had sprinted to 1-B’s classroom first, finding it empty. Panicked. Then to Nezu’s office to ask where the hell 1-B is. Lastly, all the way to the site of Ground Beta.

“Eh? Is that Togata from 1-A?”

“What’re they doing over here?���

Confusion spreads amongst the class. Some look over to Neito, relieved that he’s got his usual crazed look on his face when 1-A comes. At least he’s back to his usual self, right?

“Oh (y/n)! I love you!” Neito proclaims under the influence of his nerves and the brush against death.

“Huh..?”

“What the fuck—”

“Did I just hear…?”

“(Y/n) as in (y/n) Togata from class 1-A right?”

“Monoma, like our Monoma, to someone from 1-A?”

“Shiozaki, should we be praying?”

Neito ignores his classmates’ disbelief in favor of running to you. Though, with the overwhelming pressure of Mirio’s eyes landing upon him, he retreats back among his classmates.

Once you’ve caught your breath, you point an accusatory finger at Mirio. “I know that you know!”

“Hey (y/n)… shouldn’t you be at class?” your brother laughs awkwardly.

“Oho, don’t bullshit me!”

Vlad King just looks at the scene in confusion. It was enough that you bursted into his class, and Monoma yelled “I love you” to someone from 1-A, but now you’ve started cussing out the guest in his class? He knew you guys are siblings, but that’s about all he knows…

“Togata, both of you— what’s going on?” he asks.

“Well—”

Before Mirio could downplay gravity of the situation, you raise your head up and yell, “My brother is a psychopath!” which didn’t help at all…

You shake your head, before bowing politely at Vlad. He was sort of taken aback by your quick change of attitude. “Sorry sensei, but could I please speak to him? It’s an emergency. Again, I’m sorry for disrupting your class.”

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or..?”

You don’t say anything else as you march away towards Mirio, who stands in place fiddling with his thumbs. Hado and Tamaki stare just like the rest of the class, looking between you and Mirio. “What have you already done?” you ask. Crossing your arms, your gaze hardens at your brother. Despite him beating you up with a single punch earlier, he sweats from your glare. “The truth.” “I may or may not have scared him a little.”

“And?”

“Threatened to pummel him till his mama don’t know him if he hurts you.”

“He’s not gonna hurt me!”

At this point, 1-B is getting the gist of the situation. Still, they are hard pressed to believe it. This is self proclaimed class 1-A’s biggest hater they’re talking about. Their Monoma. Is he really dating someone from class 1-A?

“I know but y’know just in case...”

You take a deep breath, rubbing your hand down your face with a groan. “I’m staying here for the whole class. I’ll be watching you!”

A voice interrupts your confrontation. “No, Togata.”

Your breath hitches. You look behind you, finding Aizawa walking through the gates you’d left open. “Get back to class. I never dismissed you.”

“But—”

“I get the general idea. Don’t worry, your brother’s not gonna kill a kid,” he sighs, clearly unamused that he had to hunt you down for something like this. “If he did, he wouldn’t be in this school.”

You purse your lip. Not that you think he’d genuinely do so, and Neito can handle himself just fine. You’re confident in his abilities. But… well, he’s your boyfriend. And also your brother has the best chance of being the number one hero even amount pros. “…Yes, sensei.” You side eye Mirio, who sighs in relief. Right before leaving Ground Beta with your teacher, you stop and call out, “If you irreparably injure him I’m never talking to you again!!! Bye Neito, love you too!” Slam! The site’s gates shake the ground once they’re closed.

“Ahem,” Vlad glances at Neito, who’s doing his darnest to avoid the gazes of his classmates. His dramatic love confession finally registers in his brain and now he’s going red. “Lets continue with class.”

Meanwhile…

“Tamaki, Hado… what do I do? (Y/n) says they’ll never talk to me…”

“Just don’t irreparably injure him?!”

“I wasn’t planning to…”

“Then there’s no problem right..?” Tamaki stares at him, aghast. “Aha, I get it. I get protective of my younger sister too. Sometimes I feel like I could end someone even if I hold back!” Hado beams, as if what she’s saying can’t put her on a watchlist.

“Seriously you guys!”

***

You awkwardly walk with Aizawa back to the classroom, where the rest of your classmates are now. Ah, you’d just ran out of the gym screaming about someone about to be killed, huh? They’re probably worried…

“Personal relationships are none of my business, so I expect you to not make it my business again, okay?” You shudder. He isn’t facing you, but you can tell that he’s probably glowering at the moment. “Y-Yes sensei! I’m very sorry sensei, it won’t happen again!”

“Good. Now, you’re the one who’ll explain things to your classmates.”

You gulp. There was the slightest hint of petty amusement when he said that. Likely payback. “Yep… of course…”

I dread it.

[verdemoun]

Out of the timewarp couples we know that...

Sean dies before Lenny

And

Bessie dies before Hosea

This leaves The Morgans, The Duffys (Sorry Kieran it's you), and The Jones's... at least to my memory.

So in my lust for angst... who dies first, and how tragic was it?

Okay timewarp endgame let's go

Bessie and Hosea die together, so who died first is unknown. Bessie was sick first* and the one the gang most expected to die. Hosea's heart just went 'fuck not losing my wife again'.

Generally, the first shall be the last. Most of the 1911 gang actually die before the 1899 gang (minus tragedies and age related illness) simply because living rough as outlaws do for an extra 9-15 years in canon era was a physical strain they never really recovered from.

Charles dies before Arthur - he went 9 years mourning Arthur before timewarping, and I'm not putting him through that again. Only in his early 70s, Arthur noticed the tiny change of Charles sleeping more than usual and insisted he go see a doctor. Metastatic lung cancer: with only two or three weeks left to live. Instead of suffering through treatment for at most an extra 6 months, Charles decided just enjoy what time he had left - helping Arthur plan for how he would cope without him, seeing family and saying goodbyes, going to the few sights they hadn't seen and some of their favorite places for the last time. 3 weeks after the diagnosis, and only the second time he actually complained about pain, Charles simply took a nap and never woke up.

Similarly, in the once-Matthews-now-Duffscuella household, Javier dies first. Javier did not age well, and got a lot of age-related illnesses younger than most people. Arthritis in his 40s, heart disease in his 50s. Still, his death was very abrupt (only a year or so after Charles, so early 70s again). He was sitting on the couch, watching TV with Kieran. Sat his cigarette down on the edge of the ash tray, said he didn't feel like it, and laughed when Kieran asked if he could have it. But then - didn't pass it to him. Massive, sudden cardiac arrest. No response to attempted resuscitation: so quick it was painless. Didn't mean Kieran was any less distraught.

Kieran ends up living with Arthur because, as well as his self-neglecting brand of autism, Kieran was diagnosed with early stage dementia shortly before Javier died. As it progressed, Kieran's confusion manifested as basically thinking it was canon era. He'd huff he had to take care of the horses, or have moments where he still thought he was an O'Driscoll and start stealing things (from himself) because if he went back to the gang empty handed 'Colm'll have my head'. Arthur was always the best at calming him down, second to Javier, and generally knew how to keep Kieran happy in terms of things he would eat and what situations would be too overstimulating for him. Also, Arthur actually had horses so Kieran could look after them in his stableboy moments and be content. Kieran also passed away before Arthur.

The Jones's might have to be another ask oop.

[nymphie66]

God Bless America pt 2

Part One

Part Three

Author's notes: due to the slightest positive reaction I'm back on my bullshit again, you're welcome??

Soldier boy x f!Supe reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, minors dni - for your own sake, pregnant women get horny too sometimes, dark fic, ben trying to assert dominance - too bad he's a bit of a simp for reader, mentions of a wedding, haven't ramped up to full smut yet but there's always time for that ;)

Find part one here xoxoxo

"Going to the chapel and we're gonna get married.." Ben sang quietly between sips of his beer - he had recently learned that smoking, was not in fact good for your health, let alone the baby's. He carried on cooking, ignoring your struggle against your restraints. The power-subduing cuffs still gracing your wrists, the gag pulled tight against your mouth. You were tied to the kitchen chair, a plate of chicken, potatoes and veg in front of you - whether you wanted it or not, you were going to eat it. It was good for you and the baby after all. Ben sat opposite you with his own plate of bacon, sausage and egg - an American meal for an American man. He looked at you with such content, such joy, he had you, right where he wanted you, all you had to do was comply. "So, baby, you gonna behave or what?"

You stilled, and nodded your head, you didn't need to be honest just no longer gagged and bound. Ben smiled and walked over, removing the gag and untying the rope that bound your arms to the chair. Although still cuffed you could now move your hands to pick up a knife and fork and eat - if you wanted to.

You quickly swallowed the excess saliva that had formed because of the gag and tried not to glare at him. Instead, you just bowed your head looking down at the plate of food. It was bland, the chicken unseasoned and the potatoes looked pale and meek, the vegetables practically soggy over how overcooked they were. Ben never was a good cook.

"Eat up, my son has to get his protein somehow." Ben told you as he took his seat opposite you.

"What about your daughter?" You posed, slowly taking a fork and pushing the mushy carrot around your plate in masked disgust. You knew of Ben's less-than-modern views, but you weren't afraid of them. In fact, you revelled in proving him wrong, in putting him in his place, it often led to more than favourable situations, situations that got you in the predicament that you were in right now.

"She'll need her protein too, to keep up with her old man of course," Ben responded with a smile, and you were at least somewhat comforted by the fact he didn't just ridicule the thought of having a daughter. "Though if she's anything like her mother, she'll be enough to keep me on my toes."

You couldn't help but laugh, an empty one, but a laugh nonetheless. It seemed to encourage him, that you were happy right now, happy to make conversation with him. When in reality you were just waiting, waiting for an opportunity to break free of the cuffs and give him hell.

"You're going to look so pretty in a wedding dress. Fucking divine." Ben commented before taking another sip of his beer, his eyes hungrily darting across your form. You averted your eyes, your heart beating faster under his watch. You were well aware that without your powers, Ben could very much just take what he wanted, and what he wanted right now was evident.

"You are going to have to practice your vows y'know, practice being committed to me till death do us part. No more hotel flings, honey." You told him sourly, and you could see him recoil. You took satisfaction in that and happily stabbed a piece of chicken before putting it in your mouth and chewed laboriously, it wasn't just the vegetables he overcooked.

"Hey, I told you I'm sorry for that, okay? It's never going to happen again, this, this changes things." Ben tried to assure you, pointing his fork at you accusingly, as if it was your fault for taking issue for such a matter.

"Oh so our baby is enough, but I wasn't? I get it Ben." You retorted, finally being able to swallow the driest piece of chicken you have ever had in your life. Ben slammed his hand down onto the table and you would have flinched, if you weren't so used to his dramatics.

"What is it going to take for you to believe me? Huh? I'm marrying you for god's sake-"

"-not by choice, can I add. Don't pretend that your decision to marry me is nothing but you trying to absolve yourself of your guilt or Vought's efforts in damage control." You practically spat, throwing your fork down, for the baby or not, you couldn't put yourself through another mouthful of that godforsaken chicken.

Ben violently stood up from the table and leaned across to you, taking issue with the smile that blossomed across your lips from his agitation. He grabbed your face with his hand and he forced you to look at him. "I am marrying you because I love you. And you love me. And my baby will be loved."

You took particular exception with his declaration that the baby was his, considering you were the one throwing up every morning, and it was messing with your hormones. You used your bound hands to lunge at his throat, and he quickly forced them back down with a brutish strength. To his detriment of course, as from the force of his actions, the cuffs broke against the table. No longer intact and no longer efficient in subduing your powers.

Ben seemed to realise his mistake and quickly retreated backwards, his hands flown up in a surrendering motion. You gasped as your powers returned to you, coursing through you in a form of ecstasy that rivalled anything else. Your eyes glowed in a surge of pure power and you turned to Ben with nothing less than an evil smile. Your powers matched his on a good day, but with this sudden resurgence and hormonal rage, he was putty in your hands - and he knew it.

"Ben, honey, how much did you say you loved me again?" You drawled, running a hand through your hair as you stalked towards him. All caution thrown to the wind, you were on an unparalleled high from days of withdrawal from your powers. Ben stalled and steadied himself against the kitchen counter. "And our baby of course."

"Tonnes, doll, tonnes. Only one for me." Ben quickly tried to assure you, he knew that considering his recent actions, woman or not, you were going to beat his ass, but you just laughed. Usually, he would mock those pussy-ass men who cowered in front of their woman, their bitch. But with the look in your eye, it was just pure survival at this point.

"Those are just words, Ben! Words!" You shouted at him, a hand remaining possessively on your stomach as you continued to walk towards him. "I need more than words Ben, we need more than words. Especially if we're going to get married."

Ben seemed to relax slightly at your concession of a wedding, but he did not at all fall for the bait of a false sense of security. "What do you want?"

"I want them dead. All of them." You responded starkly, your body close to his. Blame the hormones, blame the power rush, but you knew what you wanted. Your mouth then hovered over his ear. "Every bitch that you've bedded, every fling that's screamed your name, I want their head on a goddamn stick, their hearts in a fucking chocolate box. Call it an engagement present."

Ben swallowed thickly and nodded his head, it would be a long list but he was willing to do it, if it meant getting you back, if it meant getting the family he always wanted. You pulled back and looked deeply into his eyes, your head tilting in morbid contentment. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, and you pressed a harsh kiss against his lips. Your arms looping around his neck, your hand tangling in his hair.

Ben seemingly determined to regain some sort of control over the situation, swiped his tongue over your bottom lip before biting it when you didn't grant him access to your mouth. You gasped and allowed it, tugging on his hair violently in acknowledgement of his action. The two of you then engaged in a battle of dominance, that resulted in you getting put on the kitchen counter, thighs spread apart as you felt his hardening cock press against your core. But if Ben thought that he was getting his way, he was wrong.

With a determined shove to his chest, Ben stumbled backwards and looked at you with betrayed eyes. You wiped his saliva from your lip with your thumb and hopped off the counter. Striding towards him before putting a hand on his shoulder and the other grabbing his jaw.

"Sort out the affairs, and until then be grateful that I'm even touching you right now." With that, you released your grip, slapped his cheek lightly and walked off.

"Fucking woman." Ben huffed flipping the table in a fit of anger as he followed your leaving form. The food spilling across the room. You were right, you were always right, and it pissed him off. But that's why he loved you, he supposed, you never gave in to his bullshit beliefs and challenged him at every turn. Which is exactly why he wanted to bend you over, and the fuck the life out of you until all you could say was his name. But that wasn't going to happen until he sorted out those women. Seems like he had some work to get to.

[mechazushi]

Heart-To-Heart {A Kaiju Number 8 Short story.}

[Warning: Major Character Death] [Warning: Depictions of Gore]

It was a long drive back to the First Division base. It felt even longer since you could feel everyone collectively reeling from the news. It hadn't hit the front-liners just yet. The higher ups were waiting to see just how many were going to come back from the fight alive first. Mina and Soshiro couldn't bring themselves to tell Reno or Kikoru just yet either. They knew something was off when they rushed their friend into an armored truck as soon as the dust settled. They were just going to have to writhe in a lack of understanding for a little while longer. At least, just until the captain and vice captain could get a better understanding of what Kafka; or, they guess in this new situation, Kaiju Number 8, was now.

"You seem to have developed a new staring problem." Hoshina observed bitterly.

Him and his captain were riding in the back of a mostly empty armored box truck. Other than them, there was what was to be assumed to be what remained of Kafka. That being just... the kaiju itself. It wasn't clear what had happened to Kafka after the end of the fight, but that's why they were in here. Although, neither of them felt like getting a head start on questioning.

"Apologies. It's just... you, remind us... of someone. Someone... we miss." Kaiju Number 8 spoke as it cocked its head to the side, it's sight not leaving the commander's face.

It was strapped to a metal chair again, similar to the one they had placed their friend in three months prior. It's voice wasn't the same as Kafka's anymore. Even when Kafka was in his Kaiju form, you could still hear it and tell it was still Kafka, even if it had developed a deeper tone and a rolling grumble. Now... there was nothing of that jolly voice left. It sounded more like listening to a stadium of people talking in unison behind a closed door. It was almost hard to listen too... in more ways than one.

"We? All I see is the one knucklehead." Hoshina retaliated, his voice unchanging. A brief pause was filled with a low, clicking growl. Almost like thunder rolling over mountains.

"Was that a purr? He fucking purrs now?" Hoshina thought as he continued to return the stare down the Kaiju was giving back.

"Looks like... we, won't miss... him... for much... longer." Kaiju Number 8 said with an uncanny level of hope in its voice. It was an odd sight watching the kaiju speak. It moved its mouth like it was talking, but the movement didn't match the words themselves.

"We. You keep saying we. Why is that?." Mina spoke up for the first time since they entered the vehicle. They watched the kaiju as it took its time coming up with an answer.

"We are... gone. All gone. We are now... shame. Regret... Fear. Rage...Revenge." Kaiju Number 8 said cryptically.

"Well, that wasn't exactly helpful." Mina thought.

"Revenge? Against what?" Hoshina questioned on his turn.

"To finish... what we started. To kill... Kill all Kaiju." It said as it's voice became more threatening, dropping in tone and developing a deeper growl.

A harsh, wheezing laugh came from the vice captain as he got up to walk around the container.

"Great. The damn thing's turned you worse than a mindless, killing dog." He muttered to himself as he was turned away from both of them.

"Hoshina." Mina said with a warning tone, having heard what he had said very clearly.

"Oh, don't act like you're being okay about this! How is anyone going to be okay about this? How's he okay about this?" Hoshina suddenly became very shrill and his movements became exaggerated despite him still feeling the toll the back-to-back fights had put on him, "This is Kafka we're talking about! Or, well, at least it was Kafka."

"Our host... is still here." the kaiju interrupted, "He has joined... the others." There was a weighty pause as the information settled into the commanders.

"Is there... a way to bring him back?" Mina cautiously questioned, trying to not let her hope betray her tone.

"He was presented... a choice. To heal his own heart... and walk away. Or to let it become... our new core." It spoke longer now, gaining speed as well as confidence while it acclimated to it's new state. That harsh laugh rang out again from Hoshina's bruised lips as he tried to not shake his head at the absurdity.

"Why am I not surprised. Ohhh, I should have seen this coming." He sighed as he gently rubbed his face, "He didn't have to do any of this. I had that fight handled." the vice captain continued to mutter as he paced the metal box. This earned a disappointed look from his captain and a curious head tilt from the strapped down Kaiju.

"Oh, don't give me that look." Hoshina said quickly.

"You said he's... that Kafka is still around. Do you think that... it's possible he can hear us?" Mina continued to question cautiously, her heart quietly grasping at any straws that Kafka could have a chance. A chance to understand, to come back to them, or anything that would assuage the pain she felt in her chest, she didn't know.

"He can... He is." the Kaiju answered. Mina tried to prepare a statement, something that could have be reassuring to the both of them at the moment, but the words were killed on her tongue as Hoshina stomped over to their altered friend and slapped a hand on one of the metal arm cuffs while he rudely pointed his finger at it's chest.

"Good. Then that self-sacrificing, one-percent lump of dead weight can hear in great detail about how I'm going to jump down your throat and drag his hairy ass back into the sunlight the second the option seems viable." Hoshina was growling and practically frothing at the mouth by the time he finished his tirade. He took a deep and shuddering breath as he stared the unflinching Kaiju down before calmly turning his head to side-eye his captain.

"You've picked one hell of a friend, captain." he said, his tone unfortunately still harboring misplaced resentment. Mina's normally unflinching face cracked as her brows furrowed and her lips pinched as she got up from her seat.

"You're the one that wanted him on the force." her voice was dark and deceptively even as Hoshina rose to meet her eyes.

"You might want to rethink your tone, captain." He said, trying not to spit it back in her face. The tension in the air pulled tighter and tighter behind the sound of the road noise, only to be cut short as the Kaiju in the room spoke up.

"Kafka... Were you and Kafka... friends?" It asked softly. The two of them turned to face it with puzzled expressions.

"Did having him melt into your little hive mind not already clue you in to that?" Hoshina scoffed.

"It did." The kaiju answered.

"Then why ask?" Mina questioned slowly, becoming deeply curious as well as a little worried for the answer.

"He felt he had... lost the honor." it said as it's white pupils flicked away sympathetically, "He had... broken his promise."

Hoshina shook his head a little at the answer, not understanding completely what that would mean to Mina. He was already aware at this point that her and Kafka were childhood friends, but without any deeper knowledge as to what that friendship meant to each other, he just felt left out of the loop. What ended up grabbing his attention was a shallow, rattling breathing next to him. He turned to look at his captain and saw an emerging and disheartening marvel. Mina seemed to be on the verge of tears. Lips quivering and tears threatening to spill from her shocked eyes.

"Hadn't he?" the kaiju asked, tilting it's head again.

The final nail in the coffin it seemed. Mina spun around on her heels and sprinted to the container's reinforced doors as she put her finger up to her ear comm.

"Stop the vehicle." She commanded, her voice not betraying an ounce of what she felt at the time.

A brief pause was held before she commanded again, this time screaming the order into the comm. Hoshina quickly widened his stance against the force of the truck breaking suddenly.

"Mina?" Her voice captain called out as he watched the back doors fly open and his captain hop down and out of the vehicle.

He tried to rush forward and catch up to her, only for the doors to be slammed back in his face before he could leave. He banged his fist on the metal for a moment, hoping for someone to open them back up. All he felt was the truck rumbling back to life and continuing down the road. He shook his head in disbelief and concern, not knowing why his captain reacted like that.

"Do you believe... that this is not a good price... to pay?" that infinitely echoing voice rang out from the back of the truck.

"What?" Hoshina spat, not understanding the question.

"You continue to fight against... what has already been decided. Do you think that... this form... was not a good price... to pay?" It spoke slowly, not in intentional mockery, to be sure, but it felt like it to Hoshina.

"Pay? Pay for what?" he shouted back.

"No more lost lives... No more shattered families... No more broken promises." It spoke, leaving the idea open ended. It didn't need to expand further anyway. Hoshina got the idea pretty well as he calmed down.

The only thing worse than a predictable friend, was knowing how predictable you were yourself. Because Hoshina asked himself the same hypothetical question and found himself coming to the same answer. A heart for a core... a thousand times over.

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"Epidermis breached. Eight, you're up!" Soshiro called as he leapt back from the entry wound he caused in their newest threat.

Some sort of bastard child of the Meraki Kaiju a year earlier. It hadn't developed Number Nine's shape shifting abilities or possessed any way of speaking, but it damn sure inherited its intelligence. Emerging without warning in the northern part of Japan, it made it clear it still had an ax to grind. A writhing mass of acidic smelling meat, tentacles, and eyeballs, it looked the part to start a spaghetti monster themed cult.

Kaiju Number Eight made a mad dash from the sidelines, focusing solely on getting to the gaping wound the Vice Captain had started. Getting to the weeping slash, it pried the edges of it apart with as much force as it could muster, sending violent arterial sprays of acid around, over, and behind it. From then, it was just a fury of movement. Strong claws ripping and yanking large chunks of hazardous flesh from the threatening mass of black and sending it away from them so it could dig ever further to its center. An example of perfectly honed equilibrium comprised of streamlined intent and raw berserker rage. A flicker of bright, webbed strings of multi-colored light let it know that its destination had been reached. Quickly scrapping the muscle around the core, the Kaiju noticed that the monster had picked up another thing from its progenitor; a hard-light barrier around the core.

"Core two of three located. Beginning demolition." Eight called out loud enough to be picked up by its custom ear comm.

"Core sighting confirmed. Begin neutralization." Okonogi had said on the other end of the link.

It reared back its fist as it felt the thruster tubes in its forearm slide out and into position. It waited for the jets to build up sufficient pressure before letting it send its fist rocketing forward to the shield with each punch.

First hit.

Second hit.

Third hit. Shields gone.

Fourth hit.

Fifth hit. Core shattered.

"Energy readings dropped. Core Destroyed! Good work Kaf-I mean, Eight!" Okonogi let out a reserved cheer as she read out the information at her station.

That wasn't the only surprise the monster had in store it seemed. Just as Eight turned to launch itself out of the slowly enclosing wound, a barbed tentacle shot out from behind the broken core and propelled through its chest with enough force to send its body flying out and down the street. When the tentacle stopped moving, Eight's body flew off of it, feeling the barbs rip through its flesh as it tumbled through the air. Eight hit the asphalt, hard. Would have sent any ordinary officer unconscious with a concussion even if they had the suit's shield. It felt itself rolling down the street and over the harsh edge of a curb. With the wind knocked out of it's lungs and the very obvious sign that it's blood was pouring out from its chest, it made the now monumental effort to prop itself against a solid surface and take a mental rundown of the damage. Bringing a clawed hand to its chest, it made the devastating discovery.

"Well... shit."

On the other side of the offending mass of destruction was Mina and Narumi, tag-teaming their attacks to crack the first layer of the Kaiju. Dodging the slashing appendages coming for them left and right, they felt they weren't any closer to breaking its resistant shell. The fight had been going on for so long that the both of them could feel their fortitude percentage dropping with every twitch of muscle. Out of nowhere, Mina saw her vice captain drop from the air in front of them and plunge the sword in his suit's tail to cut a deep gash in the beast top-to-bottom.

"Heard ya'll were having some trouble." Hoshina panted with a bloody and cocky grin.

"Hoshina! You're supposed to watch Eight's back!" Mina yelled as she shifted her cannon's muzzle away from him.

"Kafka got his mission handled. He should be on his way." Hoshina replied as he dashed in a circle around her, dicing up any tentacles shooting out her way.

"About that! Eight's vitals just dropped off the map!" Okonogi cried in panic, watching the screens turn red.

The captain and her vice immediately looked to each other as their faces turned to shock. Okonogi could only watch as she witnessed everyone's vitals go haywire at the news. Mina could just barely bring herself out of her nightmarish thoughts and leveled her cannon at the kaiju's gaping wound, making sure it stayed open a little longer.

"Go to him! Me and the Bowl-cut Bastard can handle this!" Narumi cried as he fought off his own barrage of barbed obstacles.

Mina looked over to her vice as he reassured her with a quick nod before jumping into the fray with Narumi. She whistled hard and loud, calling her faithful tiger to her aid. She leaped onto its back and held on tight while they tracked down their fallen comrade, trying not to think the worst.

Back on the other side, Eight had managed to prop itself against a shockingly still intact dumpster next to one of the few miraculously standing buildings this close to the fight. Black rivulets of blood trailed behind it and stained its path to false safety. A jagged tunnel had been left behind from the tentacle's blow, acting as the main source of agony and fear for its health. This kind of an injury wouldn't normally be a problem, even the acid melting away at his chest wouldn't have raised any concern. It's healed from worse before, but not this time. No, this time was a problem as it could feel where the barbs had ripped and shredded its way through its core and the acid making quick work of whatever was left to touch.

Inside the dark, flesh textured walls of their mind, Kafka's presence manifested as a battered and broken soldier. Redder blood leaked from various gashes on his face and body. Dark, angry bruises littered his sore chest and limbs. Outside of the pain, he mostly felt numb. At most, a dull ache in his chest where his heart-turned-core would have been. He turned to one of the other presences in his mindscape, the samurai soldier that held his powers before him, and smiled a weak smile. He couldn't tell if the samurai was as badly battered as he was, but he could tell in the way he held his chest they at least felt the same pain. Kafka chuckled raspingly as he turned and shuffled toward the last being in the brain, the big Kaiju bug that held all the power, and painfully shambled his way over to it.

"So... Was that a damn good last run or what?" Kafka playfully mocked as he carefully settled himself to the floor, leaning back against the equally battered Kaiju bug.

"No... We're not finished. We have to finish the fight!" The samurai shouted wheeling around to Kafka, still clutching his chest.

"Can't do that if there's no more fight left in us, Papaw. Face it... We're fucked." Kafka panted from the pain as it spread more viciously and his muscles released its tension.

"How dare you call yourself an officer! There are still lives on the line back there!" the samurai angrily shouted at him.

"AND HOW DO YOU EXPECT US TO CONTINUE WITHOUT ANOTHER FUCKIN' CORE, HUH?" Kafka screamed back with more rage than the samurai could ever express.

There was a lot of words that both of them wanted to say, things to be said in anger and fear, in hopelessness and tiredness. But they were getting tired themselves, feeling the energy being sapped from their muscles and the warmth being leached at the same rate as their blood. There was no denying that this... this was it. No more hearts for cores, no second chances, no turning back the clock. Kafka never got to feel what it was like to be by Mina's side. The Samurai won't get to see other people live a life without fear from otherworldly threats. The kaiju that made all this possible will never know what a quiet mind could have felt like.

"But we got close though, didn't we?" Kafka softly begged, "Tell me we got close, Papaw."

The samurai looked down for a moment, seeming to think his response over, before looking away entirely.

"Even if one fails to reach the moon, one still lies among the stars." He finally said, still not looking back.

Kafka gave a soft smile in return, leaning his head back as his head grew heavy with a lead-like feeling. He knew he didn't mean it, but appreciated the effort anyway.

"And not a night sky to be seen." Kafka muttered to himself as the dark started to overtake his sight.

Something in the back of his mind wouldn't let him rest completely, however. He could sense something coming closer and moving in rapidly. He could tell it was a kaiju, but a smaller one giving off an abnormal but familiar signature. Mina's tiger, no doubt bringing its owner along with it.

"Shit. Can't let Mina see us like this." Kafka groaned painfully as he tried to stand both inside and outside the body, "She doesn't need to see this."

The samurai just eyed his mental roommate from the unchanging confines of his mask and made no move to help the struggling Kafka up to his feet. In their mind's eye, they watched as Mina dismounted and bolted forward to their devastatingly injured remains. Her voice was muffled, but they could definitely sense the distress in her tone as she dropped to her knees by their side.

"Oh God! Nonono, KAFKA!" Mina cried as she harshly dropped to her knees beside his still body. She brought up a hand to its chest wanting to slow the profuse bleeding, only to feel the massive opening staying warm through the power of the acid alone. It became all too clear to her that at this moment... that her friend couldn't be salvaged

"Mina... please. You need to go." Eight muttered out as more blood dripped from its teeth.

"No, Kafka, this can't be it! Not like this. I can't lose you again." Mina's eyes rained its tears freely, taking advantage of their privacy to stop holding back in this vulnerable moment.

She could barely hear the sounds of the on going battle in front of them through her wet sniffling and ragged coughing. She held on tight to its chest and shoulder, trying to focus her thoughts away from another time. An earlier time where this had happened before, where she lost the last pieces of her long gone friend. Her cheeks were hot with anguish as she bowed her head against its shoulder, thinking of any and all prayers she could think of. She didn't want this moment to finish and take the last shreds of hope she had with his passing.

Back in the dark passages of their mind, Kafka had only managed to drag himself to his hands and knees as he tried to speak to Mina. He barely had enough strength to keep himself upright, let alone to project his voice out of the confines of his mind. The samurai just stood still as it quietly watched this all go down.

"Mina... Mina I'm so sorry *cough* for everything... I... I know this is going to be hard... but I know that... you can be strong-" Kafka coughed again and almost landed on his face from exhaustion. Planting his trembling arms as firmly as possible underneath him, he tried to look over at the samurai standing next to him.

"For fuck's sake, Papaw! Can you help me up sometime today, please?" He called out as he managed to lean back onto his legs somewhat.

He watched as the samurai continued to ignore him, not even bothering to look his way. As Kafka busied himself with finding the strength within him to push Mina away in any way he could, he missed the telltale sound of a sword being pulled out of its sheath. As Kafka got off of one knee, he felt something hard and sharp push its way through the back of his neck and out of his mouth. He instantly felt all of his limbs going numb in that second and all of his weight being carried by what was shoved through his neck.

As the sword pulled itself back out, Kafka felt warm trickles of his blood start running down the back of his throat. He couldn't swallow the blood into a different direction and could only feel it all sliding right into his lungs, making him choke reflexively. As he fell onto his face, he felt the growing pain from the wound grow from the back of his head and slowly turn into the worst, practically splitting headache he had ever felt before now. Feeling his body twitching from the numbness and his lungs quaking in the fight against being able to breathe, he just laid there and saw his Ancestor flick his sword and clean it on his sleeve before placing it back into the sheath. Had Kafka not been choking on his own blood or had enough feeling in any of his limbs, he would have certainly returned the favor. What happened instead was the feeling of the floor opening up underneath him and dropping him down into that familiar, watery, bottomless pit in their shared conscious, eyes and mind growing darker the further down he drifted.

Back up top, his Ancestor took control of the body and started talking to the grieving Mina.

"Mina..." He called out.

"Kafka? Kafka, are you still with me?" Mina cried out desperately as she continued to hold the body close.

"We need... another heart." He asked, trying to stretch out whatever remaining willpower he had left to finish his request.

"A heart?" Mina questioned in the interlude, slowly gaining control over her tears.

"Yes... Another heart... for another core." He finished, hoping for Mina to understand what he was asking of her.

"A... a heart." Mina reiterated as the request she began to realize what was being asked of her, "I-I can't... I can't ask something like that from anyone..."

"You don't have to ask... If they're not here to question..." He answered, hoping he wouldn't have to spell it out further than that.

Mina's eyes grew wide as the tears threatened to spill over again. He was asking for her to drag over an already dead body? Just to continue fighting? Warning lights went off in her head as this ask dawned on her. Kafka would never ask for something like this, it was too underhanded. But then again... Maybe this wasn't Kafka talking anymore. Maybe Kafka was gone, and it was whoever made Eight was talking now. It had to have been, because Kafka's hate for the Kaijus was never deep enough to warrant this.

Still... some part of Mina refused to give up on him. Even if he wasn't the one talking right now, Eight was all she had left of her friend. Mina was strong, she led the forces, she joined the Division because of Kafka. She had watched him struggle year after year to catch up to her, falling back to square one every time. This Kaiju helped him on his last chance to get his foot in the door, and she hated to admit that it was probably the biggest reason as to how he managed to stay this long.

It wasn't the only reason, however. If the Kaiju helped him physically, his promise to her helped him in every other way. All he wanted was to be by her side, and even after every roadblock and setback and debilitating snag he hit, he got to this moment... this fight, and it was the closest he had ever gotten to fulfilling it. But one can't be expected to carry that kind of fight alone. She knew that well enough after blitzing through the ranks to Captain. At some point, a hand needs to be extended, a branch to hold on to, a sign that this isn't a one sided fight. That someone else wants what they want too, and wants to see that dream realized for them... with them. It took both of her hands to muscle the slackened arm up to her chest and placed the bloodied and acid-stained hand over her own heart.

"Take mine... You can take mine." She said, her voice betrayed no cracks, only a solitary hiccup.

"Mina... no. Anyone else..." The ancestor argued, knowing well enough that this would hurt more than just Mina.

"Well, you're not getting anyone else, goddamnit!" Mina screamed, " I've wanted too damn long for you to be by my side and watching you sacrifice everything on the dotted line, just for it all to stop here! I'm tired of waiting. I'm done waiting."

She placed her head back on its shoulder, waiting for it to decide. She worried that she took too long and that there wasn't any life left within it to finish the task. Eight found enough strength to bring his head over to the top of her's and lightly placed his closed mouth on it. For he had no lips to kiss away her fears, or a voice left to reassure her that everything would be okay. All it could give was a low, throaty rumble as her tears fell down like a storm.

'I'm sorry... for everything.' It thought.

A loud squelching noise was heard in tandem with a dull ache suddenly spreading out in her chest. Mina looked down and could see that Eight's hand had pushed itself through the barriers of her suit and was now being drenched in warm rivers of red blood. Her lungs spasmed irregularly as that dull ache started to feel more and more staticy. As she coughed, she felt a little spurt of blood splatter out of her mouth. Eight waited for her eyes to roll into the back of her head and for her body to grow limp before he sucked her heart out of her chest. Warmth began to travel down its arm and flowed freely into the rest of its body. It shed one lone black tear as the cavity in its chest began to close up.

Soshiro and Narumi's fight with the Daikaiju had gotten only a little further than nowhere in the time that Mina had left them. Soshiro had managed to keep the wound that he had made earlier open and could only stand by and watch as Narumi ventured inside it while slicing his way deeper in. A weighty moment had passed before he saw that back of Narumi's suit being propelled toward him at unbelievable speed. The two of them made contact and were sent flying backwards. Hoshina took his own fair share of damage as he ended up getting abruptly sandwiched between a broken piece of a stone wall and the full weight of Narumi in his numbered suit and weapon.

"Augh! What the hell, Narumi?" Hoshina cried out in pain as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Damn thing must have learned from the last two times we hit its core! It tried to skewer me with a tentacle and launch me backwards. I managed to deflect it with my weapon, but Jesus! That acid stings!" Narumi yelled as he shifted off of Hoshina's lap, trying to use his now ruined jacket to wipe off the rest of the acidic blood from the suit.

Hoshina tried to get back onto his feet, but could only manage to slowly shift himself onto a knee. Bracing himself against the wall, he leveled his one undamaged eye toward the hulking monstrosity before them. He panted heavily as he weighed his options, finding all of them to be far from satisfactory plans to finish this brutal beast once and for all. Still, no one could rest until that thing was put down for good.

"Get up Narumi." Hoshina growled through his pain, "We need to finish this." Narumi just squinted up at him with a question on his mind, before deciding that the smack talk back wasn't worth the effort. As they propped themselves to their feet as best they could, an unearthly voice came over the ear comms.

"Hoshina. Narumi. Stand down and head to safety." the voice commanded with easy authority.

Hoshina peered his head over the chunk of wall first. Off in the distance he saw a slim figure walking towards them. The sound of metal dragging over asphalt matched the sight of the stilted silhouette and its heavy looking object it brought with them. He grabbed Narumi by the shoulder and dragged them both off to the side of the street to hide behind more rubble. Leaning against a shattered chunk of roadblock, Hoshina watched with great interest as the figure got closer and closer. The sound of metal being dragged got replaced with the sound of metal being loudly pried apart, sheets and gears popping and buckling under great pressure. He studied the new arrival as best he could from his distance and made one startling discovery after another.

The being that approached looked almost like Eight and carried Mina's cannon. Only now that cannon had looked like it was caught in a tangle of thick, black, jungle vines that had wound itself into every part of the complex machine. The body that was connected to the cannon looked very different from what he remembered as well. Eight looked taller, leaner, and not as wide. And he certainly knew that Eight didn't have a full head of long black hair.

Narumi watched the new figure as well, but was focused on a very specific part of them. He watched the new kaiju open one set of eyes, then a second set below that, then a third set above them both. It only got stranger as he saw the borders of the eye's sockets stretch and lengthen out to the borders of the other eyes. Once the edges touched, the sides popped open and the eyes melded into each other, forming one long, glowing, teal band extending across the width of its face.

The tentacles on its arm had finished their job of weaving their way through the cannon and lifted the whole mess level with its target, the Kaiju everyone had been fighting. Hoshina watched on in slowly dawning horror as he heard the voice on the comms match to the movement of the teeth on the new Kaiju warrior in front of them.

"All should know better than to be caught in their Captain's line of fire."

Inside the mind of the new beast, Kafka could feel his mind turning on to a sense of alertness. It almost felt like waking up from a paralyzing nightmare. As he blinked his eyes and got them to focus, he tried to recall what had sent him sprawling over the floor in his own mind. His memories slowly worked their way forward from the moment he entered the fray, to when he felt the acidic sting of the tentacle pierce his core. He rolled onto his side and brought up a hand to rub his face, trying to dislodge anything more important or at least relevant. Even moving around in his listless state, he could instantly tell he felt different. His arms didn't feel sore or bruised, his chest had lost its weighty pain that had settled deep in his core. His core. If that had been broken, then how was he still able to think? As Kafka landed on his back and pushed himself up onto his hands, a deep, reverberating thump rattled in his chest as more recent memories started to crop up.

The fight. The killing shot. Crawling away to hide his shameful death. Mina... Oh gods, Mina! She found him, and... and... His Ancestor, the samurai. What did he do to him? Kafka felt his chest tighten as his breathing became labored and ragged, quick puffs of angry air sucking its way past his teeth. He shot up to his feet quickly, the lack of pain making him all the more angry at the thought of his Ancestor committing some atrocity that somehow fixed this. His only reasoning for this being that if it wasn't supposed to be a bad decision, then why bother silencing Kafka at all?

"WHERE ARE YOU?" he screamed out into the vast space of his mind, "FACE ME AND EXPLAIN, YOU COWARD!"

Kafka made a slow turn, viciously eyeing down any shadow in the dark recesses of his mind that could have been his murderer's form. Spying a dark shape off in the distance behind him, he turned and ran toward it, thinking it to be the samurai. As he got closer and closer, it became very clear that this new person wasn't the samurai. His Ancestor didn't have a flowing curtain of black hair, nor did it wear a defense force suit. He slowed down his pace for a second, becoming worried and praying that his mind had just decided to play a cruel joke on him, now of all times.

"Mina?" Kafka hesitantly called out, a thousand prayers for salvation from this fear echoed in his heart.

He watched on in horror as the familiar shade turned to the sound of its name and faced him with shock in her eyes. He picked up speed again, this time not with intent to maim and harm, but to approach this mirage of agony faster with the hopes that he'll just run right through it.

"No. No, no, no, nononono, MINA!" He cried as he got close enough to see that this wasn't a horrible joke, but a nightmare made flesh.

Carelessly plowing right into her, Kafka held her tight as they fell to the softly giving floor. Sobs racked his ribs and shuddered his lungs as he scrambled to his hands and knees. His hands roughly busied themselves with pulling her onto his lap and brushing strands of hair out of her face, chanting that simple word over and over. They slowed as the realization of this, of her physically being in his mind really meant, began to chip away at his already war-torn heart. He could feel himself rocking back and forth, cradling Mina's warm body close to him as he looked into her unbothered expression with his being stained with a flood of tears. He supposed it was him trying to bring comfort to Mina, but as her gentle hand placed itself on his cheek and stroked with her thumb, he knew that this was all to comfort him.

"No, Mina why? Why would you do this? You had to have known, right? I would never ask you to do this, you had to have known that it wasn't me! Why, Mina? You didn't have to do this." He whispered

Kafka could barely get the words out over the snot and bile building up in his throat. His tears soaked his cheeks and fell like rain onto Mina's hand. His face felt like it was on fire as he sniffed hard and tried to clear his throat. Holding her in his hands made any attempt of composure in vain as it just reaffirmed to him that what was done was irreversible. The Third Division lost its captain, but it certainly didn't feel like he had gained back his friend. He tried to restrain his violent sobs as he felt her arms tighten around his neck, pulling his body down over and closer to Mina. His arms tightened in return as he felt the other hand come up to play soothingly in his hair, the other rubbing gentle circles over his spine.

"My heart... was already yours." She whispered into the crook of his thick neck, the vibrations of the words sending small shockwaves through his torso.

All Kafka could bring himself to do was cry. Cry and scream and cry again until his voice became shot and he had no more tears to shed. Hands forever tight around his new heart.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

(Some thoughts I had while writing this that won't fit into tags well)

Real quick, I just wanna mention that this is based off of a recent theory that I developed after reading chapter 118 and its that Kn8' true power isn't that fact that he's a shape shifter, or that he's got super strength or a sonic screech or anything else.

His true power is that he can turn hearts into cores, indirectly making itself partially immortal. (we could be immortals, immortals...)

So I see the end of this story going one of two ways:

One: Once the Third Division finds out what happened, they all come to a mutual agreement that they want their hearts cryogenically frozen after death so that Kaiju Number 8 is forever supplied with back-up cores. This ending kinda gives off this lovecraftian feel where in the future, Kaiju Number 8 stops being considered a Kaiju at some point and is more of an amalgamation of undying spirits that haunt the base forevermore.

Two: Kafka pulls a Hellsing Ultimate Abridged. He fights against Papaw first and then proceeds to fight and kill every soul that inhabits his core, ultimately evicting the collective consciousness that made his powers in the first place and distills it into himself. The only better way I think I can explain this is "Imagine Venom bonding to Eddie and then something happening to Eddie, causing Venom to sort of... recreate Eddie. But it's just Venom, so now it's like if Venom was his own host." Kafka is now Kafka, the parasite, and the Kaiju all at once. (He also somehow figures out a way to spit Mina out into her own body so she's fine.)

He's not a human that can turn into a Kaiju or the other way around. By Legal Definition he is, technically, the first, true, Human Kaiju.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Epic Buddie Fic Rec | October 9th-15th 2023

Hey guys!

I'm trying to get back into the habit of making these recs every week. I've been working on a banner and it's not ready yet, but I didn't want to wait for it to be ready before making fic recs because procrastination = bad!! 😆 I hope you enjoy!

If you don't know me from my other fic rec blogs, I rec pretty much all the fics that I've read and that I've enjoyed in these recaps, but I put an emoji next to the ones that I liked just a liiiiiittle bit more 😉 For Stucky, I used blue hearts (💙), for Steddie I used black hearts (🖤), and for Buddie... well the decision wasn't too hard to make 😜

Complete

take me to the edge (then let me fall) by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP | 1K | Explicit): Or, the one where Eddie edges Buck until he loses his mind all the while calling him a good boy.

🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.

🔥 still by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Post-Season 6 AU, Near Death Experiences | 9K | Teen): “Your guess was correct, Diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “You’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. Don’t shift. When you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it."

to feel the need of your touch by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Light BDSM, Post-Season 6 | 7K | Explicit): When Natalia had casually suggested they stay fuck buddies, at least until he got his shit together about Eddie, Buck had seriously considered it. But it just wasn’t what he wanted. So, he had said no and Natalia had understood, and that was that. And now, Buck was miserable. He was so sensitive. His skin felt like a live wire. Any and all touches he received started to feel like a shock to his system. Or, the one where Buck is touchstarved and desperate for Eddie. They fuck but it's also really sweet.

reassure me with your praise by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Kinktober, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit): Or, the one where Buck is concerned he might be bad in bed and Eddie has a solution.

bet on it by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Kinktober | 4K | Explicit): Or, the one where newly together Buck and Eddie make a bet to see who can last longer without sex. The bet lasts one day.

Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Friends to Lovers, First Time | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. - Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together.

hope is a sword by marcato/ @callaplums (Post-Season 6, Near-Death Experiences | 5K | Teen): Holy shit, Eddie loves him so much. He’s been so stupid, telling himself to wait for the right moment. What right fucking moment? It should have been yesterday, three weeks ago– hell, it should have been three years ago when he was telling his best friend about the goddamn will. It doesn’t matter right now, though. The only thing that matters is keeping as much of Buck’s blood inside his body as possible. One can only hope and wish and pray.

🔥 Four Can Keep a Secret by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-Season 6, Secret Relationship | 20K | Teen): When Ravi and Hen accidentally see Buck and Eddie, who are trying hard to keep their new relationship a secret, in the middle of a romantic moment, they try to make them confess without the rest of the station finding out. Shenanigans ensue.

early hours of yearning by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (PWP, Kinktober | 4K | Explicit): “You really wanna go again?" “Yes,” he confirms, gently scratching his teeth down the side of his neck, treasuring the deep moan he gets in response. “God, you’re fucking insatiable," he hears Eddie moan as he tilts his head back, giving Buck more space to work. “Doesn’t feel like you’re complaining."

how forever feels by icesculptures/ @ice-sculptures @athenagranted (Post-Season 6, Getting Together | 8K | General): Or: tired of the growing distance between them, Eddie asks Buck to dance at Maddie and Chimney's wedding, healing more than his own heart along the way.

WIP

Don't They Know It's the End of the World? by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Fallout 4 AU, Post-Apocalyptic | 4/14 | 7K | Mature | Warning: Violence): After being put in a cryogenic sleep for over a hundred years to wait out an apocalyptic event, Eddie Diaz wakes up, too early, to find his son has been stolen from his cryo-chamber. Scared and alone in a frightening world he doesn't recognize, Eddie is willing to do anything to get his kid back.

🔥 Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU | 8/9 | 24K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.

Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 2/? | 4K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.

🔥 for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 10/? | 85K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

[thebiggerbear]

WIP Wednesday - Multiple - 2/7/24

So I've got a few things in the works and I was having a hard time deciding which one to go with for today so I put a few here. I took out any specific spoilers.

I hope they're all okay. I hope to get these all up fully very soon!

1) Beau Arlen x Female!Reader (Short Series)

You shouldn’t have been surprised at the name popping up on your cell phone but considering it was near the end of a business Thursday, it did. You had just been about to close up shop and head out yourself.

You swiped green and immediately put the phone to your ear. “Beau Arlen. As I live and breathe.” You purposely deepened the twang in your voice.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I see you’ve finally assimilated, and after I left, too.”

“Yep. I’ve got a cowgirl hat and I’ve been making appearances on the rodeo circuit,” you teased.

“As long as it’s only appearances and you’re not doing any actual bull riding.”

You smirked.  “Well, when you say bull riding…”

“Y/N,” he warned, making you laugh and relax back into your chair, lifting your feet onto your desk, making one of your colleagues discreetly frown over at you. You ignored the tightass they’d assigned to your unit a month earlier.

“Oh relax, Sheriff. Eight seconds is a little too fast, even for me.”

“I was under the impression eight seconds was the amount of time you gave a guy before kicking him out the door the next morning.” You could hear the teasing in his tone.

“That depends on how the night went but usually less.”

Your smile grew when you heard him chuckling in your ear. “Goddamn.”

2) John Winchester x Female!Reader (Prompt Response)

You were running your ass off as two vampires chased you through a field in broad daylight. You were soaked through from the rain coming down in buckets, making the grass slippery and if you came across a patch of mud, you were screwed. You ignored the booms of thunder overhead and pumped your arms to try to make it to the treeline where your car sat, waiting. If you somehow survived this, you were going to kill Troy. “It’s a small nest, Y/N, three vampires if you’re lucky. You’ll be in and out,” he’d said. Well, Troy was full of shit. There had been at least twelve vampires in the abandoned building and it was a damn miracle you had survived this far. 

You’d been able to take out at least four though your machete got stuck in the fourth vampire’s neck and you’d had no choice but to abandon it and run since by that point, the nest was awake and very aware of your intrusion. You had a backup machete strapped to your back and that was what helped you get outside but it had been knocked out of your hands during a melee with the two vampires who were chasing you. It would have meant your immediate death had you dived for it or tried to retrieve it in any way. So that got left behind, too. 

“Fuck,” you hissed, glancing behind you and seeing how much the vamps were gaining behind you. Troy better pray they killed you because he was going to wish they had if you made it. 

You reached the tree line and ran in the direction of your car, ignoring the growls behind you. If you could just get to the car, you could dive inside, start it up, and run their asses over, not to mention turn on lights you had custom built into the car for situations such as these. The light wouldn’t actually hurt them but they’d be enough of a deterrent so you could get your ass out of there.

However, your plan was foiled when one of the vamps dove for you and knocked you down to the ground. You grunted as you tried to get back up but it was too late; the vamp quickly turned you around, showed you his teeth, and ducked down to bite you. As he lowered, the last thought you had was that you were going to haunt Troy for this, possibly go all poltergeist on his ass, the stupid son of a bitch.

Before you could think anything else, the vampire’s head suddenly went missing and a bloody stump was in its place. The body went slack and you quickly pushed it off of you. What the hell? You glanced up and saw a man standing above you in a dark coat holding a bloody machete. His hood was up so you couldn’t make out his face but that didn’t matter because suddenly the second vampire was upon you both. It saw its dead companion and immediately rushed you. You quickly crawled backwards on your hands, not able to do much to defend yourself without some sort of weapon, when the man stepped forward in front of you to meet it head on. It wasn’t long before he got the better of the vampire and it went the same way its buddy had. You heard the soft thud of the head hitting the ground and you let out a breath of relief. You didn’t know who this stranger was but you were grateful. Though he only bought you a little more time; guaranteed, the rest of the nest was going to be after you once it got dark. While you had prepped yourself to go into the nest, you knew there was no way that one of them hadn’t caught your scent. And if they did, you were still screwed.

3) Dean Winchester x Bella Swan (One Shot)

He takes a breath and then proceeds over to where she’s sitting. He shakes his head when he notices a drink in front of her. “I’d offer to buy you a drink but it seems like you’ve already got one.”

She turns to look at him. “Then I’ll buy you one,” she says. She signals to the bartender and orders a double of the whiskey Dean prefers to drink on nights like these. 

He takes a seat and turns towards her. When his drink arrives, she holds her glass out expectantly and he clinks his to hers before taking a hearty sip. He feels the familiar burn as it travels down his throat, settling in the pit of his stomach. 

“How did your case go?” She asks.

“Wrapped it up about two hours ago so pretty damn good.” He places his glass back down on the counter before glancing over at her. “What are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

A mischievous gleam appears in her eyes at his choice of words. "Just passing through."

4) Jason Teague x Female!Reader (Prompt Response)

You stood sentry near the end of the staircase at The Talon, staring up at the closed door to Lana Lang’s apartment. From your corner of the room, you just watched Jason and Lana running upstairs with big goofy smiles on their faces and then Lana teasing him with an almost kiss. It made you want to gag. 

You fully expected that he would be up there for a while based on that puke-inducing display and you figured a latte wouldn’t hurt while you waited. But before you could turn away, Jason had emerged from the door, his face severe and troubled. You crossed your arms and waited. He caught sight of you mid-way down the stairs and his expression darkened considerably more.

He stopped two steps above you. “What do you want?” He snapped.

You arched a brow up at him. “What every girl wants. A romantic moment like you just had a few minutes ago right here in front of everyone.” You gestured to the crowd behind you that couldn’t care less what you were talking about. A smirk formed on your face when you turned back to him.

His jaw clenched. “So you’re still spying on me?”

“More like selective reconnaissance but hey, tomato, toh-mato.”

Jason snorted and glanced around the room quickly before moving down a step and fixing you with a glare. “I’ve got this handled. So you can run back to your masters like the little bitch you are and let them know that your selective reconnaissance is no longer needed.” His green eyes were darker than normal; he meant business. Too bad so did you.

You held a hand to your heart and gave him a mock look of hurt. “Ouch. That hurt. And to think, I used to let you take my clothes off and take full advantage of me anytime Mommy frustrated you.” 

The look he gave you should have immediately put you six feet under. The one you gave him back should have made his head immediately explode.

5) Dean Winchester x Female!Reader (Prompt Response)

You glanced over at Dean in the passenger seat, noticing his jaw was clenched. 

“What’s the matter, Dean?”

He kept his eyes on the road. “Nothing,” he muttered.

You checked in the backseat, noting Sam was watching you. He shrugged and you gave him a reassuring smile followed by a wink before you slid on the seat towards Dean. “It’s obviously not nothing,” you murmured. You leaned in to press a kiss to his jaw. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing,” he repeated. “I’m just…tired, I guess. Long drive.”

You rested your chin on his shoulder. “You want me to drive? I don’t mind.”

He smiled over at you. “No, sweetheart. I’ve got it. Thanks, though.” He quickly pecked your lips and turned back to the road.

“I know.” You bent forward to grab his box of cassette tapes from under your seat. You immediately felt a hand on the small of your back. 

“Sweetheart, you make me nervous when you do that. Can you please sit up and put your seatbelt back on?”

You could hear the worry in Dean’s voice. “I will in a second, promise. Almost got it.” You almost had it fully out when Dean’s arm wrapped around your waist and began to pull you back towards him. The movement actually ended up helping you and you sat up, grinning. “Got it,” you crowed. You sat back against him, his arm still pinning you there. “Now, what do you want to listen to?” You began sorting through the tapes.

“I’m good with whatever you choose,” he murmured. 

You smiled up at him and kissed him before picking a tape and sticking it into the tape deck. When the sounds of Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love” filled the car, Dean chuckled in your ear. “Hell yeah. That’s my girl.”

You smirked and pressed another kiss to his jaw line, noting that he seemed a little more relaxed than earlier. You were happy to see it. You knew this would do the trick. You may or may not have given a lap dance to Dean to this song in the past. 

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, he leaned in and whispered to you, “Can I get a repeat performance later tonight, d’ya think?”

You whispered back to him, “If you’re a good boy for the rest of the day, I don’t see why not.”

He shook his head, chuckling, and quickly kissed you again before turning back to the road. You felt his hand discreetly move to your thigh and squeeze, and then he pulled away. “I hate for you to go anywhere but, sweetheart, please put your seatbelt back on. I’m holding you to that promise you made later and I can’t do that if you get hurt.”

You tapped a finger to your chin once you were back in your seat, buckled in. “Did I make a promise? I don’t think I did.”

Dean smirked over at you. “Yeah, you did. It was implied.”

6) Jon Snow x Female!Reader (Prompt Response)

You made a swift right turn, nodding at two harried guards as you did. They were busy trying to direct the sudden traffic of servants for Northern lords that they had no time to notice you which suited you just fine. As the men’s frustrated words faded behind you, you smiled a little to yourself, noting that this hallway was thankfully not as crowded as the rest seemed to be. You were glad that you had taken a different route to the kitchens than the direct one from the Great Hall. You hadn’t needed to push your way through the large crowd in the room and you would actually reach your destination unscathed.

That is, if someone hadn’t suddenly grabbed you, slipped a hand over your mouth to prevent your scream from being heard, and yanked you into a hidden alcove. You prepared yourself to fight whoever it was until you came face to face with a familiar pair of brown eyes, a scar trailing down a cheek from underneath the left one — a scar you had traced gently more than once with your fingers. You let out a breath of relief against the skin of his calloused hand and relaxed slightly until you remembered that you were angry with him.

“It’s only me,” Jon whispered reassuringly as he released you. “I didn't mean to frighten you, my lady. I only wanted a moment to speak with you alone.” He carefully lifted his hand to your cheek, stroking your skin softly, his eyes intent on your face, giving you a hint of a tentative smile.

“Apologies, my lord, but you must have mistaken me for the dragon queen,” you snapped, keeping your expression as cold as ice. You could see that wounded him but you had also been wounded. Like Sansa, you hadn’t failed to see the familiarity between Jon and the Targaryen woman when they arrived and you had heard the rumors of a tryst happening on their sea voyage here. At the time, you had just considered them rumors but after seeing how the dragon queen looked at Jon, you knew them to be true. You felt pain in your heart and a constricting of your throat, refusing to gaze upon the couple unless required. “Shall I send word to her councilors to ensure that she makes her way down this hall to be accosted by you and dragged into this alcove so you may have a moment alone to speak with her without the eyes of the North upon you?” 

Jon heaved a sigh, his smile now gone, and he lowered his hand. “Not you, too.”

7) Dean Winchester x Angel!Reader (One Shot/Reader Request)

“Well, I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

“I’m your huckleberry.”

As Doc Holliday lifted his head to reveal his identity, you frowned. “I don’t understand that phrase, Dean.” It was always something that had puzzled you. Granted, you hadn’t spent much time down here during the Wild West era, but you had never heard anyone going around uttering this phrase, especially in this context. Perhaps it was a pop culture thing of the times.

Dean paused the movie and turned to look at you. “What?”

“‘I’m your huckleberry.’ What does a small fruit have to do with the coming gun battle?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam turn his head away from you both, trying to smother a smile. Dean appeared unsure of how to answer you.

“Well, I think it just means something like ‘I’m your guy.’”

“Then why doesn’t he say that?”

“Say what?”

“I’m your guy? Instead of saying ‘I’m your huckleberry’ then why doesn’t he say what he means?”

Dean exchanged a look with Sam before turning back to you. “I don’t really know, Y/N/N. Perhaps the line wouldn’t have been as legendary in pop culture.” You noticed Sam rolling his eyes and then you saw a salacious smirk start to spread across Dean’s face. “You know, if you’re having trouble understanding the movie, why don’t you come over here and sit with me? I’ll answer any questions you have.” Sam was frowning at his brother now.

You glanced at the recliner Dean was in. “The seat you're in appears to be designed to only hold one occupant at a time.”

Sam snickered and Dean shot him a glare before glancing back at you. “I know that, Y/N/N. Just like this,” He gestured towards his lap. “Is only made for one person at a time. Well, mostly. But it’s open so how about it?” He patted the space invitingly, giving you that smirk once more. 

“Dean,” Sam warned.

“Shut up, Sammy. So, Y/N/N, you gonna come sit with me or what?”

Your brows furrowed, still unsure of how you both would fit in that chair comfortably, but Dean seemed determined for you to join him. You got to your feet and slowly made your way over. You weren’t exactly sure how a change in seating arrangements would shed more light on the odd phrases chosen for the characters to say in this film but it was something Dean seemed to think would help.

8) Dean Winchester x Female!Reader (Prompt Response - sequel to the "Sleep" prompt)

You finished filling the dishwasher and were just about to start it up when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs behind you. You turned and gave Sam a smile. “Did he go down easy?”

Sam gave you a small smile in return though it looked more like a tight grimace. “Yeah. One reading of Goodnight Moon and he was out like a light. Playing at the park today must have really tired him out.”

“I’m sure. Thanks for doing that.”

He gave you an awkward nod and took a seat at the kitchen table, opening up his laptop. 

You bit at your lip, not really wanting to bring this up but you also knew you couldn’t take much more of this tension between you. “Listen, Sam, about last night…”

“We don’t have to talk about it. It’s fine,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, giving you that tight smile again before looking at the screen.

You watched as he began scanning the news for any new cases, something he did weekly just to keep on the ball. If he found anything, he never actually took the cases himself. Instead, he called Jody or Donna, sometimes Claire, to let them know what he’d found and that maybe they could check out.

You both had retired from hunting right before your son was born, having both agreed that your child deserved a life free of monsters and worrying about whether Mommy or Daddy would come home that night. But it was still in both of you, in your very blood, and Sam figured he could still fight the good fight from your kitchen a few nights a month. You really wanted him to drop it altogether, something he promised he would when your son got a little older, but you also understood that it was important to him. So you tried to back off, cut him some slack, and just hoped that one day the lore books he’d taken could return to the Bunker. Before your son was old enough to start combing through texts of demon rituals.

You pressed your lips together and rested back against the counter. “I think we do need to talk about it.”

9) Soldier Boy x Female!Reader (Prompt Response - sort of sequel to "Sleep" prompt) - @deans-spinster-witch this is a tiny piece of what I was telling you about ;)

Ben quietly slipped into the bathroom, undressed, and snuck into the shower behind you. You were rubbing suds-covered hands all over the front of your body. 

While you cleaned the front, Ben’s eyes roamed over the back. He was already predictably hard, just seeing you naked. You had the perfect ass and even though you still had some baby weight that you were trying to lose, in his eyes, you were fucking gorgeous. You had mournfully admitted a couple of weeks ago that your stomach was soft and you were embarrassed by the visible stretch marks and your wider hips, not to mention the few pounds sticking around. Your breasts were bigger (something he didn’t see as a problem), and you were feeling a bit insecure about your new shape. He loved the new you, which he made sure to tell you over and over as he fucked you that night. You were the mother of his kid, you’d given birth to her, nourished her from your body, and you could give him even more. It endlessly fascinated him that his seed took root in you and a healthy child grew from it, one that was half you and half him. He’d literally fucked a baby into you and every time he saw you like this, he wanted to do it again (though you’d told him your body needed at least a year or two to recuperate). You looked so fucking gorgeous carrying his kid and now, you were even more beautiful if that was possible. It was a beauty he saw when you breastfed his daughter, when you smiled down at her, talked to her, and rocked her to sleep. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t want you, on your back (or your hands and knees, he wasn’t picky), taking load after load of his until he knocked you up once more. 

So he had been dumbfounded and almost incredulous when you nervously admitted all of this to him, implying that maybe he didn’t find you attractive anymore and maybe he’d prefer a flat-stomached, tighter, younger, free-to-bang-all-day woman instead. That or some old lady he wanted to get his groove on with. He’d fucked that notion right out of your head, both of them.

But now as he stepped toward you, not only was he incredibly turned on by you and how beautiful he still thought you were, but he also realized right then, just like he had many times before this moment, you were the only one he wanted. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your wet shoulder.

You let out a small gasp in surprise. “Where is she?”

“They've got her.” 

“Well, I’m not doing anything with you in this shower so you might as well get out,” you snapped and attempted to wriggle out of his embrace. When you couldn’t, you huffed out an aggravated breath and went back to rubbing soap over your skin. 

He nosed your wet hair out of the way to get closer to your ear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never should’ve said that shit.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you muttered, gliding soap down your arms.

You can read the full version here

10) Anael x Female!Reader (One Shot)

You slipped your mask off and tossed it into the backseat. You then held the wheel with your knees as you struggled to get the voice modulator off and sent it the same way of the mask. Ana watched all of this impatiently. 

“I still don’t understand why you had to use a Halloween mask of all things,” she sniffed. “And changing your voice was a bit of a stretch, wouldn’t you say?”

You rolled your eyes as you slipped on a baseball cap, sunglasses, and then took control of the wheel again. “I told you, they couldn’t know it was me. Besides, I committed the unholy trinity of Dean Winchester.”

She shot you a look of disbelief. “The unholy what?”

You made a quick left turn to head straight out of town. The more distance you put between you and the Winchesters, the better. “I shot Sam, I threatened the angel, and I left Dean tied up,” you listed. “The unholy trinity. The three reasons Dean will never stop looking for us, especially now that he knows what you look like. Which is exactly why I told you that you should switch vessels if you can, especially if you plan to stay in the States, still doing your faith services.”

Ana scoffed. “Absolutely not. This is my vessel and I got it fair and square. I healed her husband and she gave herself over to me. Not to mention, I have a brand as Sister Jo. I can’t just change that up on the fly. It wouldn’t be good for business.”

You heaved a sigh. “Ana, we’ve talked about this. The Winchesters aren’t going to let this go and based on what you told me about their angel, it doesn’t sound like he will either.”

“I have a dedicated customer base!” 

“That you won’t be able to continue having if you’re dead.” You gave her a meaningful look and she huffed slightly, turning to stare back out over the road.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[queenofbaws]

There's been a drought of non-poly Chrashley-focused content for quite a while now (apart from the occasional story on Ao3), and I'm starved for ANYTHING featuring the nerds and their schmaltzy escapades. I've considered remedying this situation by making my own food (read: trying to write my own fanfiction), but I fear I wouldn't do the characters justice. You've proven to be a talented author from what I've read of your works, so would you be willing to write a soft, sweet snippet in my stead?

catch me catching up on some not-quite-six sentence sat(or)sunday!

"So...is it that you think glaring it down is somehow going to magically make it safer, or...?" He couldn't mark it down as a full victory, not with the way her mouth was twisted up like that, but there was juuust enough laughter in her eyes for Chris to pat himself on the back. Not that he ever needed much of an excuse to do that.

After another moment of heavy, heavy consideration, Ashley sighed, then groaned, then forced herself to take a single lurching step over the threshold and into the cable car. She mumbled something as she shrugged her bag off and plunked it down on the same bench where he'd ditched his, and while he couldn't make most of it out, he for sure caught "death trap" and "tin can" thrown around in there.

"That'd be a 'yes' on the glaring question, then?" he teased, pretending not to follow her with his eyes as she sat beside him. She folded her arms and sighed again, and he nudged her shoulder with his own. "Think about it this way," he tried instead, "maybe it's Peter Pan rules - if you believe we're going to drop about a million feet and plunge to our icy deaths, then we will, and if you don't, we won't!"

"Chris! Oh my God." Ashley dropped her head into her hands, laughing tensely. Very, very tensely. "Do you seriously think that's helping?"

"Nah. I just didn't want to go full bad movie cliche and say, y'know...c'mon, Ash, what's the worst that could happen?"

The cable car's door clicked shut, the mechanism began to hum, and Ashley's laughter took on a desperate note. "Oooh but you said it anywayyy!"

She scooted another few inches away from the window, and just like that they were flush against each other, her arm pressing into his...from between, like, twelve layers of jacket, anyway. They hadn't even chugged a single inch up the mountain yet and whoop, yeah, uh huh, now Chris was all aboard the Anxiety Express too, his ticket paid for, processed, and punched in not by heights or the decidedly out-of-date maintenance sticker on the back window but Ashley herself. As was so often the case.

What was his move here? Did he have a move here? And, maybe more importantly, since when did he think about his life in terms of moves?

Okay, that last one was actually easy enough to answer: Since he'd hung up with Josh all of three minutes ago. It had been a thirty second call, if that, just enough to let him know they were heading up and he should expect them at the summit's station in the next ten minutes or so...but in true Josh fashion, he'd managed to pack that thirty seconds with as much psychic damage as humanly possible.

"Hope you two have a nice ride up," he'd said cheerfully enough, which had tripped at least five different warning alarms in Chris's brain. "See the sights, revel in the atmosphere, engage in a much-needed heart-to-heart...you know, just...really enjoy each other's company."

Good ol' Josh. Always knowing the exact thing to say to leave a guy completely unarmed.

Armed! Was that the answer? He could, in theory, sort of stretch his arm around her shoulders. People did that, didn't they? If someone they were with was freaked out? It...it didn't have to be seen as a romantic gesture, not if all he was doing was comforting her, but...but would she see it like that?

The cable car crept a foot off the ground, two, three, four, five...and right as they crested the roof of the station, it...well, it stopped. Completely.

"What's going on?" All it took was the cable car rocking once as it came to a halt and Ashley was on him, her face buried in the fur lining of his parka and her arms wrapped so tightly around his middle he could feel her fingers knotting at his side, Princess and the Pea style. "I can't look! How high up are we? I - wait, no, I don't want to know! Don't tell me!"

"I...we're like seven feet up, Ash. Like, maybe eight. Nine?"

"Make up your miiiiiiiind!" she groaned into his coat, her shoulders shaking as he did, in fact, scrounge up courage enough to wrap his arm around them. "I knew this was a bad idea...God, I hate these stupid things!"

"They've never stalled like this before. It's probably just, uh, a glitch or something. The system needs to warm up a little bit." He tried to sound confident as he said it, even as he glanced out the window and started running the numbers in his head. Could they jump out if they needed to? Maybe. It'd probably hurt, though, and he was prone to getting hurt on leisurely walks around the block, to say nothing of sick, snowy stunts. Plus, it'd taken a hell of a lot of convincing to get Ashley into the cable car in the first place; convincing her out of it...

"Yeah," she agreed, poking her head out from his coat only long enough to shoot a worried glance out the window on her side, "they've never stalled like this before, that's the problem, Chris! Maybe this is it! This is the time they break down for good! We're going to be stuck up here and - "

Before she could get another word out, the lights in the car flickered. And dimmed.

They turned to each other, eyes wide as panic began to really set in, and...and then...wait.

Now wait one fucking second.

The car suddenly filled with music. Music of the low and slow variety, that was, music the likes of which you only ever heard during the swelling denouement of a cheesy Hallmark romance movie, and Jesus Christ, he was going to kill Josh when they got to the summit. If they got to the summit.

Chris's head fell back against the glass panel behind him with a dull thunk. He squeezed his eyes shut as tight as they went. "Well," he said, feeling his adrenaline begin to flag, "looks like someone installed speakers in this bad boy since our last visit."

"Oh my God. Oh my...God." Beside him, Ashley slumped. Up until that moment, she'd been a spring wound tight against his side; now she felt more like a ragdoll folded up under his arm, her heartbeat still frantic enough that he could feel it through their layers upon layers of winterwear.

A moment later the cable car chugged back to life, rising up, up, up into the sky and towards the lodge, its lights low and its jams smooth. Chris waited for the moment Ashley straightened again, prepared himself for their inevitable separation...and even as the lights of the summit slowly came into view, it did not come.

"You just had to say it, didn't you?" Ashley asked after awhile, her arms still tight around him, her head still nestled in his parka's lining. "Just had to go and jinx us, huh?"

It took him a second, but when it clicked, it was all he could do not to laugh outright. Instead, he pressed his luck a liiittle more, tightening the arm around her shoulders to pull her closer before setting his chin atop her head. "Ash, uh, if this right here is the worst that could happen, I gotta be honest, I would love to know what your idea of the best-case scenario would've been."

[triscribeaucollection]

Okay I'm still having fun with Lyle's POV in Two Sidekicks Walk Into a Villain Bar, so that's on the agenda again today and here's the first bit of my next installment:

First night the Kid hit the streets again in his new costume, he neatly turned the Top upside down, spun Golden Glider headfirst into a stop sign, then swiped one of Captain Cold’s guns and iced the man from the knees down. So of course, as soon as the speedster returned the uncut diamonds they’d been attempting to steal back to the jewelry store, Piper and Trickster nabbed him for a celebratory drink.

“I’m pretty sure this breaks the villain code of ethics, or something,” Kid laughed as the two of them pulled him into Lyle’s bar, grinning and unconcerned to be abruptly surrounded by crooks.

“Who cares, you’re back and better than ever!” Trickster cackled all the way up to the counter, and slapped down a trio of hundred dollar bills. Of Monopoly money.

The Kid rolled his eyes and put down some real cash, enough to cover drinks for all three of them. “Glider’s definitely going to care, when she gets over her headache.”

“She’ll groan and grumble along with her brother, and then tell you to at least take her out with something a little classier next time,” Piper snorted, sitting down so he and Trickster bracketed the Kid. “But more importantly - that was a neat move, with Top, where��d you pick it up?”

The blinding grin that took up residence on Kid’s face told Lyle exactly who he was about to mention even before he opened his mouth. “Something my girlfriend showed me a few days ago. She has gotten so much more badass while I was gone.”

Lyle set down a root beer, a cherry cola, and an orange soda in front of the three boys. “You two adjusting alright?”

“Pretty well, yeah. Getting the death certificate overturned and some other legal stuff straightened out has been way easier, since she’s done it before.” Kid took a sip of his root beer like that was a perfectly ordinary statement to make. Hell, for all Lyle knew, maybe it was with superheroes.

“Surprised you didn’t come back to a, ‘my girl dated and married and had a kid with someone else’ situation,” Piper said with a huff. “Isn’t that usually how it goes in the movies?”

The Kid winced. “Well...”

Trickster gasped dramatically, almost spilling his cola as he leaned into the speedster’s face. “Did she?!”

“No marriage, no kid, but- Red Arrow let me know she’d been dating another guy, first one since I, well, disappeared, but she broke things off with him the day after I got back.”

Piper let out a low whistle, and Trickster splayed both hands against his chest. “Awww, it’s true love! I demand you two invite me to the wedding, and I wanna see all the little Arrow-Flash babies!”

Kid snorted, his cheeks turning pink. “Just for that, I might just drop Flash’s twins on you one of these days.”

The new Kid had mentioned them, a few times, little boy and girl already running around with their daddy’s superspeed. Lyle braced an arm against the counter and leveled his best glare. “Not in my bar, you’re not.”

All three boys burst out laughing.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Check

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Pairing: barista!Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)

Summary: Mike's friends show up to invite you to a party - they have horrible timing.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff. More fluff. Then some more fluff. Shenanigans. Cats. Mention of animal abuse. Mention of a strange situation involving someone's bro kissing his bro's mom. Yep.

A/N: Hello, and a very warm welcome to the next installment of the Cockblocking Chronicles! In this episode we have... no sex! Unsurprisingly. Also we have some... cockblocking. And a lovely little guest appearance of some of our favorites - and maybe some less favorites - and THE TURTLES!

If you like this fic, please let me know 🥰 and reblog so that others may see it too! <3

@deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss @geralts-yenn @ylva-syverson

“Hey, Mikey! Is this the new girl?” You shriek at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and scramble to get under the covers without flashing whoever is behind you.

“I hope so, otherwise he’s got some explaining to do! Hey, when were you going to introduce us?” someone else says.

“We’ll let you two get dressed. Boys, coffee?” The three guys laugh and leave the room.

“Sy, Will and Evan. In that order. Not that it matters now, because I’m going to kill them...” Mike snarls through gritted teeth. He lets his head hang on your shoulder, relaxing a little now that he knows his friends are really gone.

“We can’t catch a break, can we?” Your voice finally – after all those weeks – betrays you, and Mike’s grin lets you know that he heard. So now he knows; you want him just as bad as he wants you.

“Apparently not...”

“You’re all dead to me,” Mike says as he walks into the kitchen, dragging you along behind him.

“Does he sound frustrated to you?” Will asks the others, who laugh. “He sounds frustrated to me…”

“I am frustrated, for fuck’s sake! I’ve been trying to nail her for weeks!” The kitchen goes quiet, and the guys just stare at Mike – except for Sy, who actually facepalms. “Probably shouldn’t have phrased it that way...”

“Ya think?!” you say as you smack Mike in the back of the head as hard as you can. But even you have to admit... “He’s not exactly wrong, though.”

The guys look at you as if you just told them the earth is flat – even Mike.

“Listen, this guy has been striking out since the very first date,” you continue, laughing when you see Mike’s face morph into a pout. “First it was cats, a week later parents, then he got grounded for three weeks, then it was a cop, now you guys… Cut him some slack.”

“Cop?” Evan asks, unable to hide his laughter.

“Yep. Got busted fooling around in the Camry,” Mike sighs. It’s no use lying, these guys know him well enough by now.

“Don’t you fuckin’ da-argh!” Sy interrupts your conversation with his exclamation of terror. When you look around, you see him sitting at the kitchen table, with Big Sy in his lap, who is purring contently.

“That’s hardly the massacre I was promised, Mike,” you joke as you watch the rather peaceful scene in front of you. The boys laugh at your words.

“Well, I ain’t gonna volunteer to show ya,” Sy says. The drawl in his voice is subtle but present. He’s not from around here, though you couldn’t put your finger on what part of the south he’d be from, exactly. “Someone hand me my coffee.”

You watch as Evan hands him the cup sort of carefully, never taking his eyes off Big Sy, who gives him a death glare from Real Sy’s lap.

“Mikey’s is the meanest,” Will clarifies without you ever asking. “He will swipe at just about anyone – except Mike – when he gets the idea we’re even so much as thinking about touching him. He’s completely okay with it when Sy’s not here, though.”

“Ours will let us take them off his lap, at least,” Evan adds as he bends down to pick up Nova. “Hello little attention seeker.”

“Forgive my frustration,” Mike chuckles, “but what are you fuckers even doing here?”

“Michael, language!” you hear right before the front door closes. Not long after, his mom walks into the kitchen holding heavy-looking bags of groceries.

“Ma’am, let me help you with… Motherf-!” Sy’s attempt to get up to help Mikey’s mom doesn’t go over well with Big Sy, who apparently digs all of his pointy little nails into Sy’s thighs before finally jumping off his lap.

“That’s what you get for still calling me ‘ma’am’ after all this time, Sy,” Mike’s mom laughs. “Are you okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Sy answers with a grin as he takes one of the bags from her. The boys seem to feel perfectly at home here, because when they help Mike and his mom put the groceries away, they don’t even have to ask where things go – you, on the other hand, are standing around, feeling particularly useless.

“Sweetcheeks,” Mike suddenly says – much to the amusement of his friends, “can you grab Nova?” The furry projectile is trying to make her way into the fridge, which anyone would know to be a terrible place for a cat, only she doesn’t seem convinced of that at all.

“Come here, single brain cell, I’ll give you all the cuddles you so crave,” you coo as you pull her off the shelf she’s managed to crawl onto.

“Even if you didn’t have to work, eat, sleep, pee or breathe for a single second of your life, that would still be impossible,” Will says as he gently nudges Nyx out of the way with his foot. Soon, all the cats come running to the kitchen, gathering around Evan’s feet – even the ones that were nowhere near the kitchen to begin with.

“Let me guess,” you say as you watch Nyx and Larry trying to get into the cupboard Evan just opened, “that’s where their food comes from?”

One look into the cabinet proves you’re right, but Mike confirms it nonetheless: “Part of it. Just the canned food, wet food, dried fish, some kibble. The rest is either in the fridge or the freezer. I swear these cats eat better than I do – Tiger what the fuck?” He looks down at the cat that’s currently climbing his jeans.

“Mike!” The guys – and you – laugh when his mom smacks him in the back of his head. “Language!”

“Why are you always getting me in trouble? You’re not even mine!” he says as he grabs Tiger, who immediately jumps out of his arms.

“Wait, some of them are yours?” you ask, still cuddling Nova.

“Yeah,” Mike answers with a nod to Nova, “that one, Big Sy and Nyx are mine. The dorm allowed pets, but I didn’t take them with me. It was way too small. I was here every other day to check on them, though. Drove my mom nuts.”

“And now he lives here again,” she sighs as she makes herself a cup of coffee. “Let me interrupt this lovely conversation by asking you three–“ She gestures at Will, Evan and Sy “- why you are in my kitchen.”

“We stopped by to ask if Mike was joining us tonight at the lake, we’re staying in Will’s dad’s house – your girl is invited, by the way – and these two wanted to see how the kittens were doing,” Sy answers, nodding to Will and Evan at the kitten part.

“And you don’t want to know how the turtles are doing?” Mike’s mom replies in a way that’s somehow suggestive of something you can’t put your finger on.

“I came here to help you with the groceries,” Sy answers with a wink. From the corner of your eye, you see Mike gritting his teeth.

“Turtles are upstairs, if you three would come with me,” he says, ignoring you completely for a moment. “Oh, shit. Eh. I meant four, sorry Sweetcheeks.” Always nice to know where you stand.

As soon as Mike closes the door to his bedroom, he’s at Sy’s throat. “You need to stop flirting with my mom, because one of these days I’m gonna fucking punch your lights out, okay?”

“Alright, ease up, Mike,” Sy says, grabbing Mike’s arm and twisting it, forcing him to turn away. He’s on the ground in no time. “First off, I would love to see you try. Second; you know we only do it because it riles you the fuck up, right?”

“Let me go, you dick,” Mike grunts, turning back around as soon as Sy takes his hands off him. “Promise me you told me everything.”

“I swear to god, nothing more happened than what we told you.” The promise sounds oddly solemn for… yeah, for what? You look at Will and Evan, who both shake their heads, then at Sy and Mike, who look at each other.

“He kissed my mom once,” Mike says with the single most disingenuous grin you’ve ever seen.  

“She kissed me,” Sy corrects him, with a hint of smugness on his face that Mike – luckily, probably – doesn’t notice. Inside your brain, it’s chaos. You’d absolutely pay to hear the whole story behind this, because how can it be anything but good. Do you blame Sy? Maybe not? He’s young and stupid, and Mike’s mom is a pretty attractive woman. But still… Kissing your friend’s mom?

The boys don’t seem prepared to tell you more about it now – Mike goes so far as telling you that he might tell you some other time, which also suggests he might never tell you at all, even after you insist you can’t drop a bomb like this on someone and then not tell them the whole story. Unfortunately, Mike – the fucking bastard – uses a distraction technique on you that’s absolutely foolproof: letting the turtles out of their pen.

Four weeks ago, the babies were unruly balls of floof, slowly waddling around on shaky little legs. Now, they’re fast. And absolutely no quieter than they were before, especially once the scratches on the outside of the bedroom door start.

You’d noticed it before; that door was in desperate need of replacement. Now, you understand why said door isn’t going to be replaced until the cats have actually scratched a hole all the way through it: because it would be pointless.

“It’s the second door,” Evan says as he sees you looking. At the same time, Mike pulls the door open and Big Sy, Nyx, Nova and Momo stroll in. Sy immediately finds Sy and begins walking in impatient circles around his ankles.

“They really want you to sit down so they can terrorize you, don’t they?” you ask him.

“Yep,” he says, “except when Mikey was still with his ex. He wouldn’t show up in any room where she was, so I was safe most of the time.” You don’t know why, but you shiver the moment Sy mentions Mike’s ex. Of course you knew you were hardly his first girlfriend, but you don’t like the reminder that there was someone before you. That said, the fact that one of his cats completely avoided her didn’t seem like a good sign.

Mike’s mom interrupts again, carrying a large plate of snacks into the room. “Please, stop talking about her, she was awful.”

You don’t even get the chance to ask if it was really that bad, because Mike looks at you with some form of guilt in his eyes. “Remember the – and I quote – horrible troll from the movies?” He sighs when you nod. “That was her. I was too blind to see it. And by that I mean – and I hate to have to admit it – she has massive tits and they made me fucking stupid. Never understood why Big Sy hated her that much. He’s not cuddly per se, but he’s alright around people. Well, a few months into dating her, I caught her when she kicked him off my bed. And I mean kicked.”

Without thinking – and with a look of sheer terror on your face – you reach out a hand to Big Sy, who’s contently purring in Sy’s lap. For a while, the red giant rubs his head against your hand, before getting up and walking over to you, lying down in your lap, begging for more attention. “Oh, God, sweet thing, who could ever kick you?” you say as you pet his head, and he even lets you give him belly rubs. It takes you a minute to realize the room has gone suspiciously quiet.

Mike – currently trying to keep three of the turtles from crawling on his head, while little Mikey has taken residence in the front pocket of his hoodie – looks at you completely stumped, as does (human) Sy. “He doesn’t do that,” Mike says as he points at the sprawled-out heap of red fur in your lap. “Ever.”

“I think this one passes the test, boys,” Sy laughs, finally breaking the strange tension in the room.

“With flying colors,” Mike says with a massive grin on his face.

[chaeinedup]

We meet AGAIN

You and Beomgyu are finally on speaking terms again. Not that you guys ever actually fight, you just yell at one another until someone makes a good point. Which him showing concern for you and your feelings was more than enough. But as you said nothing was going to happen. You take the word "crush" very lightly.

Wooyoung on the other end was fighting for his life trying to make Yeonjun see something was up. It's surprising how oblivious he can be. In his head no one ever sees him that way, but statistics say other wise. So the plan, the very simple plan that Wooyoung made up and dragged Changbin into, was to make you two reunite. There's no way in hell this could go sideways.

It's yet again 6pm, what day?? how would you know, they're all the same, they start to blend together. But if there's a way of knowing is the type of clients. So far it's been the usual students who come for the cheap coffee and your indifference for how long they stay, and the truck drivers who stop to have a not so homy meal. But a meal nonetheless.

And that's exactly when you spotted three guys making their way in laughing, you knew your death sentence was approaching. As they scanned the place to choose where to sit, Beomgyu was giving you the nastiest look ever.

"See what did ?"

"What the fuck?? I didn't do anything!! Maybe he's here cause he liked to see you in this uniform. Red really is your colour.", you said sarcasticly.

"Shut up."

Clearly he wasn't the biggest fan of what was going down. He got up knowing his fate and you knowing yours. Lily gave you a slight smile, hinting at what she was thinking. She looked at the cherries and back at you. You couldn't hold your smile and decided to throw her the cleaning rag as a "stop it".

It's not like miraculously your attraction for Yeonjun went away, but you for sure knew it wouldn't be welcome, by Beomgyu at least. You know he loves you and you love him as well, you respect him so if you could avoid looking at Yeonjun that way... then you will... try your very best.

"Hey, earth calls y/n??!!"

"Stop waving your hand, I can see you. What's the order?"

"Three milkshakes, two vanilla, one chocolate."

"Work your magic girl."

You look back startled by Jeongin's sudden appearance.

"So two are in my favor and one is against me? are the odds in my favor?"

You have no intentions of pissing off your best friend again, so after saying those words you gave him a playful smile to ease his mind.

As you were making the drinks you had all eyes on you. Wooyoung was trying his very best to try and see you making their order while annoying Changbin for not staying still.

Yeonjun was on his phone completely unaware of the entire situation. You couldn't help but notice his outfit. A black stripped button up shirt with some grey shorts, and the literal cherry on top, black framed glasses. He wasn't wearing them before so you know it was a stylistic choice.

You got so deep in your thoughts Jeongin had to intervine.

"So are you done ooor...?"

"Yeah Beomgyu can go serve them."

"He went to the bathroom."

"Okay so you take them."

"Strictly kitchen duty sorry, and Lily has other tables to attend to. Tough luck my friend."

You knew he was doing this on purpose, some kind of mind game to see how much self control you actually had. You decide to be a big girl and serve them I mean just how hard could it be ?? You do this every day.

But not every day you have clients like Wooyoung, masking your life harder.

"Y/n right?! I just have a question! So which one of us do you think is the cutest?"

You almost dropped your tray. You love a good straight foward sincere person, but not when they put you on the spot like this.

"All three of you are very cute. Why the question?"

"Then how come Yeonjun always gets two cherries?"

"That's a great question! That I would love to answer if I wasn't so busy. Now if you'll excuse me. Enjoy your drinks!"

You practically ran out of there, fearing Wooyoung's sharp observations would disrupt your "cool and composed" façade. He knew you were lying through your pearly white teeth, the place was dead. Yeonjun tried to reason with him explaining they might have work to do in the back, while Changbin just outflat told him he was being annoying.

He was going to get to the bottom of this, either you wanted it or not. He was on a mission, a quest and he was going to need to do some digging. Task A - stir shit up.

Before leaving he made sure to give you a napkin with his number and a little note.

"Text me when you can, it's important :D."

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