#hurt mention

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Vanessa doesn’t know Moon’s crimes,,

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I keep rereading the overprotective poly marauders fic I love it sm 🫶 can I please request another one it can tie into casual dominance marauders if you want I don’t mind I just can’t get them off my mind. Thanks babe!!

Hi lovely!! So this went a bit off the rails, I had different intentions for it at first but then somehow it became very serious and the boys not so much overprotective as reasonably upset....all in all, I'm not super happy with it but I didn't want to throw it out, I'd be happy to write another overprotective one for you if you'd like!

cw: sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You walk out of your office feeling odd and off-kilter. Your mind seems addled, unable to complete one thought before jumping to the next, and something prickles just underneath your skin that feels like anger and shame and also like panic. 

Your boyfriends are waiting for you, idling at the curb. You’re supposed to go straight from here to the cinema, and you tell yourself you’ll feel better afterwards. Even if not, you have until Monday before you have to deal with this, if you deal with it at all. You may not. You’re not sure. You can’t think straight. 

“Hey, angel,” James says as you get in, and it’s immediately obvious your upset has already been noticed. Probably as soon as you walked outside, your boyfriends observing you through the car windows. Remus, in the driver’s seat, and Sirius, sitting beside you in the back, are both charily silent. “How was work?” 

“It was fine,” you reply. Your voice sounds off even to your own ears, but no one comments as Remus puts the car in drive. 

“Ready for the weekend?” James imbues his voice with a light sort of commiseration. You try to smile for him. 

No one is more surprised than you when a sob chokes you instead. You hide your face in your hands, tears already leaking out from between your lashes. 

“God, sorry.” 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sirius asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for you.

Remus pulls into a parking spot just by the exit and shuts off the engine, turning around in his seat.

“Baby.” Sirius wraps his arm around your shaking shoulders, squeezing tight. He sounds anxious. “Did something happen?” 

The worst of your crying passes like a summer storm, over as quickly as it started. Your emotions gone haywire. You lean into Sirius, and he clicks the buckle on your seatbelt for you, pulling you the rest of the way. 

“You’re scaring me,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. “Tell us why you’re upset, angel, please.” 

“I think,” you mumble, face and eyes burning, “my boss grabbed my butt.” 

You say it quieter than a whisper, but you know they’ve all heard. The silence that follows is so complete you could hear a pin drop. 

“What?” James asks. His throat sounds dry. 

You hear Remus sigh. “Oh, sweetheart.” The vinyl of his seat squeaks as he shifts. “When did this happen?” 

“Just now,” you answer. 

“Right.” Sirius’ arms had gone tense around you, but now they fall away completely. He moves for his door. “I’ll be back.” 

“Don’t,” you plead. You worry he will anyway, but Remus locks the doors from the front seat. 

Sirius cuts a glare his way, truly scary with the way wrath seems to gleam in his gray irises. He unlocks his door manually, and Remus locks it again. 

“We can’t be rash,” he says, his own tone sharper than you think is intended for anyone in the car. “We have to think this through.” 

“What’s there to think about?” Sirius snaps. James reaches behind his seat, taking your hand and rubbing comfortingly. “He’s just inside!” 

“You think I don’t want to go in there too?” Remus gives him a look that’s a short fall from incredulous. “But if we have to call the police, it won’t help if you’ve already had a go at him.” 

Your head spins. You hadn’t even thought of calling the police. You hadn’t really gotten past going to the cinema. 

“What do you mean, you think he grabbed you, sweetheart?” James' voice is pointedly kinder than the others. Remus takes a deep breath, calming himself. 

“I don’t know. I just—I feel like I can’t be sure—” 

“That’s alright.” Remus' voice is slower now. Soothing. “Why don’t you tell us how it happened?” 

“I, um.” You swallow. James strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I was looking at something on his computer, because he said he wasn’t getting my emails and I thought they might be going to his spam. He was sitting behind me in his chair, and we were talking and his hand, like, squeezed—” you shudder, your brain trying to shake off the memory “—and then he just kept talking like nothing happened. It was so fast I’m not sure it even did—” 

“Baby.” 

You don’t realize you’re tripping over your words until Sirius’ voice cuts through them. You look at him, and his eyes are already on yours, fierce but solid. 

“Did you feel him touch you?” he asks. 

You rub your lips together. “Yeah,” you murmur. 

Your boyfriend’s expression pinches, but his gaze is steady. “Then he did. Trust yourself. You know what happened.” 

This provokes another wave of tears, less tempestuous than the first but somehow more painful. You wouldn't have expected any one of your boyfriends to blame you, not if you’d thought about it, but you haven’t had time to think yet and the relief that they’re so wholly on your side makes your heart feel cracked open. 

“Dove, I’m so sorry,” Remus says. He’s frowning, a well-worn line etched between his brows. You hate to put it there. “What do you want to do? Do you know if you can contact HR?” 

“I don’t know,” you admit, pliable to Sirius’ ministrations as he tucks you securely under one arm and uses the other to thumb at your salty cheeks. “I feel a bit silly. It was a small thing, I don’t think it’s worth a bunch of fuss.” 

“It’s not a small thing,” says James, uncharacteristically severe. “It’s a big thing—a really fucked up thing, that he did—and it’s worth a lot of fuss. A lot.” He leans around his seatback, pressing a firm kiss to your hand. “It’s just a matter of how much fuss you’re willing to go through with, sweetheart. It’s up to you. We can go through HR, we can go to the police. There’s still the option of just going in there and roughing him up to be sure it doesn’t happen again.” He smiles wryly. It looks like it takes effort. “I’m very game for that option. We know Sirius is ready.” 

Sirius makes an affirming humph sound against the side of your head. You try to smile back at James. 

“I think maybe…HR?” Your voice is tentative. “I have a friend, Marcella, who I think would be nice about it.” You realize as it comes out of your mouth what a low bar that is, but that’s the reality of your situation. 

“Do you know if she’s still here?” Remus asks. 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “I think so…” 

Remus unlocks the doors, and James gets out. You barely manage to squeak out a “Wait” before the door shuts behind him. 

You turn to Remus. “Where’s he going?” 

“To find Marcella,” he says. “It’s better that they know when it’s just happened, dovey, but you don’t have to deal with it right now. That’s why James is going instead.” 

You nod. It makes sense, even if the reality of it all makes tears press at your throat again. 

“My sweet girl.” Sirius holds you tight, mashing a kiss into the side of your head. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby. I’m sorry we weren’t there to protect you.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him properly. He seems pleased with this development, and squeezes you ferociously. “You can’t always be with me. And it’s not your responsibility.” 

“Careful what you say.” Sirius seems to muster up some humor, a teasing edge to his tone. “I’ll get us one of those big shirts so the four of us can fit in it together, and then you’ll never be rid of us.” 

“It’s our job to look after you,” says Remus, firm but kind. “It’s true we can’t be with you all of the time, but I’m glad you felt comfortable telling us this. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

You’re about to dismiss his thanks when James gets back in the car, this time in the back seat instead of the front. 

“Did you see him?” Sirius asks immediately, scooching the both of you over to make room. 

“No, he must’ve left right after her.” James looks unhappy, but his touch is gentle as always as he takes your waist in both hands, easing you off of Sirius’ lap and into the seat between them. Sirius sighs but doesn’t complain, likely knowing he’s had more than his fair share of your comfort. 

“Marcella was nice, though,” James says. “She arranged for you to have the morning off on Monday, and she’ll call you then to hear from you what happened. We can be with you, if you like.” 

“Monday.” You blow out a slow breath, though it doesn’t do much to keep your throat from contracting in panic. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.” 

“No worries, angel.” James rubs your thigh, watching you carefully. “You doing okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” Your voice squeaks, and you cover your eyes with a hand. Sirius whines and kisses your shoulder. You try to laugh, but it comes out wet. “I think this might just keep happening for a while.” 

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Remus coos, reaching out a hand to set on the top of your head. He scratches at your scalp with his fingernails the way he knows you like. “It makes sense to be upset. We’ll get you through this, alright? Let us look after you for a bit.” 

[clouvu]

Mother and Father 🫶

[genderkoolaid]

dunno if you've heard yet but KOSA aint getting passed! yay!

(https://www.fightforthefuture.org/news/2024-08-01-kosa-is-dead-now-its-time-to-unite-to-take-on-big-tech-for-real/

“KOSA was a poorly written bill that would have made kids less safe. I am so proud of the LGBTQ youth and frontlines advocates who have led the opposition to this dangerous and misguided legislation. It’s good that this unconstitutional censorship bill is dead for now, but I am not breathing a sigh of relief. It’s infuriating that Congress wasted so much time and energy on a deeply flawed and controversial bill while failing to advance real measures to address the harms of Big Tech like privacy, antitrust and algorithmic justice legislation.”

[egophiliac]

well, I can't say I expected the new chapter to feature Idia (metaphorically) going to (metaphorical) hell, getting a pep talk from his (metaphorical) Phantom brother which helps him finally move on once and for all from his brother's death, and (metaphorically) overblotting again to fight his way back out of (metaphorical) hell, only to have his darkest fear (non-metaphorically) come true when his mom goes through his computer and finds all his secret files. but I am glad it did!

also this is all a flashback for the purpose of explaining to our group what the heck is going on (whether or not any of it is getting through is another matter)

[grandwretch]

i so badly want one of those fic examinations of steve's relationship with joyce and hopper but solely through eddie's pov like hear me out

steve and eddie chat a lot in the upside down (and later in the hospital, when they learn hop is alive). steve has taken charge of filling eddie in on the rest of their of-age crew without the kids butting in. he never mentions his own parents, but he talks about the rest of the party's a lot, especially joyce and hopper. eddie knows what it's like to desperately want someone to be your parent and trying to hide it from his own childhood, when he would try to be cool about wayne dropping him off at his dad's house. steve obviously adores joyce and hopper, thinks the world of them and legitimately looks up to them.

eddie isn't sure what he expects from a cop who came back to life and the world's most determined housewife, but he's excited to meet them as someone steve loves.

cue eddie's horror when he realizes that neither of them really feel much for steve rather than annoyance and vague distrust. that joyce trusts will with eddie, an accused murderer, in a heartbeat and still hesitates to leave him with steve. that hopper brushes off every ounce of steve's hero worship and joy.

he tries to broach the topic with steve, gently, and is heartbroken when steve genuinely has no idea what he's talking about. and not because he's oblivious, but because steve thinks that's what he deserves. he thinks that's the parental love that someone who was an asshole in high school needs, because that's what would make him a good person. he needs people to call him out constantly, obviously, because why else would they keep doing it? why would nancy? at least they're here. at least they're not ignoring him. at least they're not forcing him into a box. they just want him to be better.

like, this is the man who thanked a girl for calling him bullshit and telling him she never loved him. he doesn't Know that's not how you're supposed to handle things. no one ever taught him that.

and now eddie's gotta figure out how he can teach steve how to be loved the right way without outing himself and his huge crush on his love-starved dork of a friend.

[sp0o0kylights]

Whole thing on A03

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Likely for business purposes.

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

It was easier than getting into it.

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

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

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

And boy, had he been acting out of line. 

 Getting into fights. 

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

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

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

His own plans be damned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.

He was wrong. 

xXx 

Mike hadn’t cared. 

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

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

Max was the surprising emotional standout. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was clearly not the correct thing to say.

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

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

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

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

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

Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. 

xXx 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now he just stared tiredly at her back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was just---Nancy did know. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things. 

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

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

A third time for good measure. 

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

Steve shrugged, because well. Not really. 

Not anymore. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. 

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

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

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

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

Robin didn’t believe him.

His Robin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Against his parents? 

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

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

He didn’t know where he was going.

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

xXx 

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

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

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

Party.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh god.”

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

Then; “It gets worse.” 

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

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

A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.

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

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

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

Steve stayed silent. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 They’d warned him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Provided he did what his parents wanted.

Such as marrying Angie. 

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

 Steve would bow to their whims. 

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

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

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

It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish. 

Steve would try anyway. 

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

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

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

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

It was a downright horrible idea.

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

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

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

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

Steve needed that.

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

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

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

No matter how long the engagement. 

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

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

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

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

He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway. 

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

He was now working on removing the 40 ounce. 

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

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

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

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

This did not detour the metalhead. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe.

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

Speaking of; 

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

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

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

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

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

Part Two

[sysig]

Ah, childhood memories (Patreon)

[rosie-dear-rosie]

Literally can’t stop thinking about about how Butcher’s going to handle it when he returns to the boys and finds out what happened to Hughie (both in terms of Tek-Knight and his dad) and how fucking devastated he’ll be that he wasn’t there to help, to protect his canary. After dealing with the powerless feeling of seeing his wife assaulted by a supe for years then to have it happen again to Hughie, someone he’s always felt obligated to protect. Blaming himself, thinking about how Hughie wouldn’t be in this mess, wouldn’t have had to euthanize his own father, if Butcher hadn’t dragged him into this in the first place.

Meanwhile Hughie couldn’t care less about what Butcher could or couldn’t have done. All he cares about is the fact that Butcher is with him now.

[faramirsonofgondor]

“Gabe isn’t abusive in the show” ARE WE WATCHING THE SAME SHOW???

Gabe is literally introduced by yelling at someone who, when Percy apologizes for Gabe’s behavior, says “I’m walking out, you’re walking in. I should be apologizing to you.” And then Percy reluctantly and slowly walks inside. And Gabe immediately starts in on him (calling him “Genius” in a mocking tone) as Percy repeatedly expresses that he just wants to talk to his mom ( and Gabe’s subsequent “Is that all you have to say to me?”) The fact that he answered Sally’s phone and acted like he had every right to do so?? The way he shows begrudging respect when thinks Percy was violent towards another kid at school?? The “you would think that because you’re a child, you don’t understand things…” The way he gets annoyed that Percy wants to know where his mother is. The “what are we doing Percy? every time! wow…wow!” in such a condescending tone??? Percy’s immediate alarm when Sally calls Gabe’s name. Gabe immediately yelling at Sally, not knowing anything about Percy’s life (he didn’t even know his school’s name despite literally just talking to them), the way he makes Sally negotiate to use the car (“Why am I okay with this?” “Make sure they put the hot peppers on my sandwich please!”) the way he acts like his tone of voice shouldn’t matter to Sally because he said “please” the aggressive behavior even after he concedes to letting them use the car (getting in Percy’s face, pointing his finger at him, etc.), like???

Just because he isn’t depicted as smacking the shit out of them doesn’t mean he isn’t abusive. He is constantly yelling, even when it’s not necessary, and is overall condescending and rude towards both Percy and Sally. He has a positive reaction towards the idea of Percy being violent, which means that he probably has no problems getting violent himself, even if it isn’t show on screen. The fact that he is constantly trying to redirect Percy and Sally’s decision to make himself the center of it (he is trying to goad Percy into an argument when he gets kicked out of school and overall keeps trying to redirect the conversation back to himself, he acts like he is allowed to breach Sally and Percy’s privacy but then makes Sally get his permission to drive somewhere, and even then she has to give him something in return). Like he is very clearly controlling and emotionally/financially abusive (he acts like Sally’s things are his despite not having a job and likely blowing through their money). It also seems like he tries to diminish Percy’s self esteem, possibly to keep him and Sally under his thumb (it’s a common tactic used by abusers to make the victims feel like the need to depend on the abuser). Overall, just because he might not be physically abusing them, doesn’t mean he isn’t abusing them and doesn’t mean his actions aren’t harmful. Furthermore, just because he isn’t violent on screen doesn’t mean he isn’t violent.

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: trauma / ptsd / violence / brainwashing / ]

I’m not done talking about Raph and Leo yet because you know what kills me? How the beginning of the movie with Raph very angry at Leo to the point of lashing out at him is paralleled with how the end of the movie has the Krang very, very angry at Leo and beating him horrifically.

Both Raph and the Krang are so much bigger than Leo, both have been very angry with him, and both deem him responsible for ruining their respective missions.

To make matters worse, Raph’s body was used to hurt Leo. So it’d make sense for Leo to just…flinch, sometimes. To have his body reflectively brace for a blow that will not come because Raph would see this and just be horrified. Their fights, their roughhousing, their existing together all have a newfound and unwanted extra layer to them.

And Raph? Raph is traumatized enough having been brainwashed the way he was, turned into a monster in a way he always dreads in general. To be made into the antithesis of a hero and instead be a villain’s pawn, made to hurt his own family…poor kid, to say the least.

Can’t imagine what it must feel like, the first time post invasion that Raph gets mad at Leo and they fall into their old dynamic only for Leo to see the Krang and for Raph to feel like he is the Krang.

[thesmokinpossum]

If My Body Could Speak, Blythe Baird | The Godfather, Mario Puzo | My Father's House, Sylvia Fraser | To The Daughter Who Secretly Longs For Her Mother’s Affection, Lynne Shako | Storms from Jupiter, Wanda Deglane | DO NOT REPLY, @filmnoirsbian

[moonstruckme]

could i req any marauder finding r’s sh scars and being loving about them? going through hell rn. it’s okay if u cant, love u mae

Wishing you all the best sweetheart, hope you're doing what you can to support yourself and let others around you support you too <33

cw: past self harm

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Did his wife cheat on him?”

“Why would you think that?” 

“I mean, if not, why does the mother-in-law hate her so much?” 

Remus shrugs, a secret smile playing on the edge of his mouth. His knuckles run over the skin of your shoulder idly as he keeps his eyes on the laptop screen. “Suppose you’ll have to wait and see.” 

You huff a laugh. “What’s the point of watching with someone who’s already seen it if you won’t tell me anything?” 

“It’s only ever really fun for the person who’s already seen it. I get to watch you go through the agonies I did.” 

“The agonies.” You roll your eyes, leaning deeper into his side. You could be a bit more convincing about holding this against him, but Remus’ bed is almost as comfortable as Remus himself, and you’ve found it impossible to pretend at being any less smitten with him than you really are. He sees right through you every time. “If you’d mentioned the agonies in your pitch, I might not have agreed to this.” 

“You’ll like it,” he promises, leaning back on you in turn, your shoulder pushing into his arm. 

The two of you are having the laziest of afternoons. What had started as a coffee date had turned into a trip to the bookstore across the street and then a walk in a park, and when it had gotten too warm out for the both of you Remus had invited you over for lunch and somehow you’ve ended up here, sitting on his bed in a borrowed pair of sweatpants while you watch a film on his laptop and he touches you like you’re a fascination he’d like to spend years studying. 

It’s an indolent, distracted sort of touching. Almost like he’s mapping you out in his subconscious, so that someday he’ll know you by instinct and memory but he’s in no hurry to get there. Like he’s got time. It’s also hypnotic. As captivating as Remus’ film selection is, you’re having a difficult time keeping up with the plot when your eyelids are so, so heavy. 

His knuckles stroke over your neck, the bare skin of your collarbone, down the slope of your shoulder. You don’t realize your shirt has slipped off the top of your arm until he does.

You freeze, Remus doesn’t. His fingers continue to graze lightly over the neat rows of scars, slowing as though losing momentum. You close your eyes. 

Emotion rises like a gag reflex in your throat. Apprehension and shame and a guilt you don’t quite understand. Like you’re wrong for ever having had the audacity to hurt, like this is something you’re doing to him, somehow, even though it’s long over and was only ever a misguided attempt at making yourself feel better. It’s nonsensical, and you feel it anyway. 

Remus is quiet for a long while. 

His touch moves back up your shoulder, to unmarred skin and safer territory. He asks, “You okay?” 

You swallow. “You mean, like, presently?”

“Yeah.” There’s the faintest hint of teasing in Remus’ voice. He sweeps his thumb over the back of your neck, an attempt at soothing you. “Or in general, whatever suits you.” 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped just now. I didn’t know.”

“No…no, you’re alright. I wasn’t…” You rub your lips together, taking in what you hope is a subtle breath through your nose. “You’re fine.” 

“Does it bother you to think about them?” he asks. You can feel him looking at you, now, but you keep your eyes on the screen. It’s the only way for you to have this conversation. 

“Not really. It was just something I did for a while, you know?” 

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, that makes sense.” 

You sit there for another quiet minute, you watching the movie and Remus watching you. The coil of apprehension in you starts to loosen. Your breaths come easier. 

“Sorry,” you say, not bothering to force lightness into your tone, “I didn’t mean to spring that on you. It’s not a secret, but it’s not something that tends to come up, like, casually.” 

“No, hey, you’re fine.” Remus sounds serious enough that you turn to look at him, and you find him with a hard notch between his brows, a surprised sort of frown on his lips. “If anyone sprung anything, it was me. You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t imagine it’s an easy subject to broach.” 

“It’s not a big deal to me anymore.” You’re beginning to sound almost as if you’re pleading with him. 

“Alright.” 

“And it was a long time ago now.” 

“It’s okay, love.” 

“I just know people sometimes get freaked out, and I don’t want you to worry—” 

“Hey.” There’s a tenderness to Remus’ voice as he cuts you off. His honey-toned eyes are soft. “It’s okay. Can I hug you?” 

You nod mutely. The hand currently resting by your neck slips down to hug your ribs, and his other arm comes around your front, palming your bare upper arm. He rubs up and down comfortingly, seemingly mindless of the faint lines under his touch. 

Remus’ lips touch to your hair. When he pulls you tighter against him, it feels almost like you’re rocking. “You’re alright,” he murmurs, to you, to himself. “You’re alright.” 

“Sorry,” you whisper, self-conscious now of your nervous blithering and slightly stunned by the way he’s touching you. 

“For what, sweetheart? Don’t be sorry. If you want to talk about it—about anything—I will always want to hear it, but you don’t owe me any explanation, alright?” 

“Yeah.” Your lungs deflate a little, a relief you hadn’t known you needed. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me, either.” Remus is teasing again, the press of his lips to your hair at once firm and fond. He lets you go but keeps his arm around your waist, dropping his head to rest on yours again. “You’re just fine, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You snuggle into his side, somehow safer than before. “I’m good. I’ve been good.” 

His thumb sweeps over your side. “And you can tell me if you’re ever not. You’re perfect regardless.”  

[steviewashere]

I love you guys, so for WIP Wednesday, you get the first two and a half pages of my unnamed, but currently named "Steve Makes Eddie Apologize to Lucas for Not Postponing Hellfire for the Championship Game" fic. Uh, I don't think there's any warnings, but here we go.

You can read it here on Tumblr

Or you can read it here on AO3

——— “So, you and Eddie, huh?”

Steve startles at the sound of a voice, deep and hushed, from where he's been waiting in Hawkins High’s parking lot. Hellfire was supposed to be out by now—6:50pm if his watch is correct—it’s their first time back since March and it would be cordial. But it seems that only Lucas got that memo.

“Jesus Christ, Sinclair!” He yelps. Holds his right palm flat against his chest, trying his best to rescind the spike of panic that is crawling through him. “I thought I told you to quit doing that,” he harshly whispers, rubbing his palm against his shirt. The scratchy material of his polo a balm against his nerves.

“Sorry,” Lucas sheepishly murmurs. Speaking at a normal volume, he asks again, “So, you and Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes. “What about me and Eddie? Can’t I just hang out with the guy without being pestered?”

Lucas shrugs. “You can do whatever you want,” he states, but Steve can already tell there’s somehow more. “But I didn’t think you two would be…buddies. Considering how he feels about, y’know, sports and whatever.”

For a moment, Steve considers Lucas’s approach. His fidgeting hands and his slightly closed off eyes. The hunch to his shoulders and the general unease that accompanies talking about Eddie. Which, that’s particularly odd. Aren’t they buddies, Steve questions himself. Wrapped up in the Hellfire club, their mutual interest in Dungeons & Dragons, the ragtag group of nerds that they are—all of that is perfect for their oddball friendship, at least Steve thought so.

“What’s wrong with you and Eddie?” Steve asks, beating around the bush. He doesn’t do cryptic. And he especially doesn’t do it with somebody like Lucas, a kid already smarter than him by several margins.

There isn’t an answer right away. But Lucas’s shoulders drop. His eyes go from frustrated to…sad. “Remember my championship game?” He asks, though it seems a bit much of a topic change. What does this have to do with Eddie, Steve has to wonder.

“Well, yeah,” he answers instead, “I was there. Had a pathetic date with a girl I hardly enjoyed being around. Mocked Tammy Thompson with Robin. Watched you get that winning shot. It was a, genuinely, awesome championship game.” And that’s the truth. It’s the best one he’s ever witnessed. Which is saying something, considering he’d played several championship games. All of them, though, were major losses. He’ll take those to the grave with him, with how often his previous basketball teams teased him.

Lucas gives a harsh single nod, a small smile that whisks away as soon as it appears. “Right,” he mutters, “I remember.” He leans against the Beemer’s bumper, shoulder brushing with Steve’s. Looks forlorn towards the high school’s doors, where Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire bunch should be spilling out any moment now. Steve looks on with him. Listens as Lucas’s voice drops low, nearly angry, fully spiteful, “I begged Dustin and Mike to talk to Eddie about my game. To see if the Hellfire campaign—which would be happening the same night—could be moved. And I, look, I understand that D&D means a lot to all of them, it means something to me, too. But I was really hoping to see my friends there. If not my friends, then at least Erica.

“They didn’t move the campaign,” he states so bitter, Steve tastes the words on his own tongue, “apparently a game where you’re shooting ‘balls into laundry baskets’ is too…mainstream and norm-ie for Eddie. He refused to move his precious game. Then, get this, instead of getting some random kid to play, they egged Erica in.” Lucas drags his eyes away from the school, head turning slow to look at Steve. He follows suit, eyeing Lucas back. His stomach churns with the vitriol painting itself unsubtly across Lucas’s face. “Color me surprised, I guess, that he’s going out with a jock,” he states, voice carefully blank of anything.

Steve stares on at him. He didn’t know this was the case at all. Remembers getting the phone call about Dustin wanting him to play, but he figured that had something to do with him bugging Steve for the millionth time. Because that was something Dustin wanted. For Steve to play. And, granted, Steve refused because it was too nerdy—unimportant and embarrassing. Yet, now he’s looking into Lucas’s face. Where hurt etches itself like solid lines of chiseled marble. Being told, instead, that Eddie’s holding his own bias.

Maybe he hasn’t removed his biases towards high school nerds, not completely. But he’s coming undone from that mentality. Considering Nancy and Robin and Eddie—Dustin and Mike and Lucas—even Max, they’re all big nerds. They all have some sort of interest with Dungeons & Dragons or theater or video games and math. And he loves them all. Though, Steve’s never stopped to think about the opposite side of the coin. Tail-side, where balls in laundry baskets is considered taboo.

After a deep silence when Steve finally digests this information, his eyebrows furrow on their own accord. Mouth downturning into a harsh frown, one that he feels to the bottoms of his feet. He stops himself in time from balling his hands into fists, but the urge to do so snarls in him like a newly unmuzzled, wild dog. A dog, he thought, that he trained obedient away from his anger. But it seems like once the teeth are bared, they never truly hide away.

“That ass,” Steve snarks. “What—so I have to reconsider all my biases surrounding nerds, reconstruct how I view everybody around me, and realize how awesome it is. And—what—Eddie can just get away with that…bullshit? That’s…What the hell?” There’s a little bit more of a bite to his words than he had anticipated. But it really isn’t fair. The table turns and he’s better for it, sure, but Eddie just…That’s not fair. The dog growls louder, drool burbling in its chops, a bark forming in the back of its throat.

———

[sistertotheknowitall]

A Stray

As the siblings made their way up to the shared apartment (having to take the stairs cause what shitty apartment complex had a working elevator) Danny questioned Jazz on her late night.

Danny had just got off work late and he was surprised to run into Jazz at the entrance of their building. Now, Danny wasn’t naive, he knew Jazz could take care of herself and he pitied the poor Rogue who crossed her on a bad day. (It didn’t stop him from worrying just like his having powers didn’t stop Jazz.) Yet, it was well after eleven and she wasn’t one to be out after ten pm, partially because this was Gotham but mostly because she liked sticking to a routine.

Jazz shrugged, “I got caught up working on an assignment, didn’t realize the time.”

Danny looked at her closely, ‘didn’t realize the time’, yeah right. Like he said Jazz stuck to her routines when possible. As he continued to stare, they got closer to the door and the blush on Jazz’s face (previously attributed to the cold night) deepened. She shoved her key into the lock and -

“You were with somebody,” Danny declared.

With a sigh that came only from the soul of an eldest siblings Jazz let them both in. “Yes, Danny. I was with someone and you will mind your business until I decide if it’s going anywhere.”

“At least give me a name.” There came another sigh, “his name is Jason.” “….. that’s such a boring name.” “Danny.”

A door slammed and they both turned. Ellie was standing in front of her bedroom, her eyes flickering from them to the bathroom door across the hall. The three all stood in silence as she seemed to make a decision. Taking the two steps required to enter the bathroom, she called, “you two are back late.”

“Yeah, long shift and Jazz had a date.” Jazz shot him a quick glare before turning a worried look to Ellie, who was making her way back to her room with the first aid kit. She looked fine, still, “are you okay?”

Ellie paused and looked at her older siblings, confused, “yeah? Why?” Danny gestured to the first aid kit. Ellie looked at it then back to them. She shrugged, “yeah, it’s not for me.” She then went into the room and re-shut her door.

Jazz was going to loose lung capacity if she kept sighing like that. With one hand in her hip and the other pinching the bridge of her nose, Danny thought she definitely looked the part of his and Ellie’s parental figure. Not that Danny needed one, he was eighteen- thank you very much. Still Jazz had always been more of a mom in several areas where Maddie had lacked.

“Her and those strays she keeps being home.” It was Danny’s turn to shrug, slightly amused, “five bucks says it’s a squirrel again.” He followed Jazz to Ellie’s room where she opened the door. “Ellie, I’ve told you before. I love that you want to help-“

They both paused because there on Ellie’s tinny twin sized bed, bleeding from a gash on his side, was a Robin. And not the avian kind.

Ellie had also paused in her attempt to clean the wound and was staring back at her siblings. The Robin didn’t seem conscious and just let out a broken groan.

Danny, from where he was looking over Jazz’s shoulder, was the first to speak.

“Well that’s not a squirrel.”

[hanafubukki]

“Malleus! Stop this right now!”

The resulting laughter sent shivers down the backs of everyone.

It was a dark, deep laugh filled with ragged breaths between.

Even bloodied and stained with blot, Malleus stood tall.

A regal figure in front of all.

A King.

A sentiment that would have filled Lilia with pride before, now only brought distraught.

“Mall-”

“I am Your Highness to you!”

Lilia visibly flinched back.

Shocked.

Malleus had never spoke such a way to him before.

Malleus grinned, all teeth with gleaming eyes. Satisfied with the reaction he caused.

“Ah~ Lilia~ Why are you so surprised? Isn’t this what you wanted? It was never I who made these boundaries. It was you who placed these lines.”

“No! No matter what you say, you’ll always be Malleus to me. You’ll always be my-”

“You’re too late!” Malleus snarled, “I’ll play the Benevolent Prince as you have always asked of me.”

He raised his staff, smirking as the ones before him readied themselves again for the fight.

“I’ll fight to the end just as My Mother before me had done.” The Prince tilted his head, soaking in the looks his words caused.

“My Mother was lucky. She had soldiers who were loyal to her till the very end,” he frowned, “but my own? They dare wield their weapons against me.”

A self-depreciating smile, “I have always been rather unfortunate, haven’t I? Even before my birth.”

“Now come forth. I tire of these games.”

…wow Malleus, you sure are chatty this time. It’s like you had thoughts you needed to say but never could huh 🤔 good for you, let it all out. ☺️👏

I really wanted to write this scene as it was inspired by one of my favorite books, “The King of Attolia”

The way status and titles are played in that novel really inspired me. It was all about keeping a front in society but underneath it all, they were a family who loved each other and would do anything for the other.