#i just need to see more of this dynamic in general i will not rest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eupheme · 5 months

Text

— clean slate [into the fire, part v]

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, sex for favors, sub/dom elements, canon-typical descriptive violence and death, references to blood/gore, anti-ghoul sentiments, physical violence against reader, hurt/comfort, kissing

a/n: please mind the tags! this chapter got twice as long as the others (maybe I didn't want it to end, haha!) and there was a good break, so to keep things consistent, I am splitting it in half! both are being posted today though, so you don't have to wait 💖

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game. But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

(or - they took something from the Ghoul, and he’s here to collect)

The afternoon edges into night, and he tells himself each hour is the last one he'll think about you.

The Ghoul had waited for you to look back. Stock-still in the swirling dust that bit at his skin. A white-knuckled grip around the thick coil of rope.

You hadn’t.

His hand still reaches to scrubs at his neck, his jaw. To wipe you away or rub you in, he’s not sure.

It doesn't fucking matter.

He's stuck around a long time. Enough to see generations of families grow old and then die. The last few weeks are no more than a blip, in his far too-long life.

Hell - he's spent more time underground, than with you.

But something prickles at him. Lingering like a bad trip, leaving his teeth clenching and jaw aching as he finishes out the bounty.

It's messy.

It shouldn't have been. Should have been easy - but he's aching for a fight, something to take his mind off things. He's antagonistic.

Could've finished everything up from afar, but he ends up in close range. Another scar marring his chest, new splatters streaked across his dark coat.

It aches, a deep bruise as it heals.

Still only slightly dulling the itch of irritation.

I haven't lied about anything.

Didn’t last night mean anything to you?

It's sometime the next morning, after a night of a starless sky closing in around him, that he gives in.

Heading the way you went without thought, and when he does notice, he tells himself it's only because he needs more chems. That it’d be a shame to lose a supplier as good as you.

That it's easier, for both of you to stick together.

Maybe that's why he was careless. Knowing deep down, it would be easier to find a corpse later than to haul around a bounty, kicking and screaming.

The small sliver left of another man, from another life, knows he was cruel. That anger had turned him into a viper. Had always been good at striking first. Self-preservation beaten into him after two-hundred years - an old, festering wound.

He doesn’t know how to apologize anymore, but he can already think of a few ways to distract you.

Maybe you’ll forget completely, if he's thorough.

The Ghoul is faster than you are. Needs less rest, less food. Has already plotted just how far you can get in a day. Your footprints faded as packed earth leads to woods, but you’re not the type to wander, and there's only a few settlements in the miles ahead.

Halfway to his destination, when his eyes snag on a patch of rocks. A broken bits of branches on the trees just before it. There's something smeared across the stone - tasting like iron, when the tip of a finger brings it to his tongue.

Something ancient twists in his stomach, awakening from a slumber.

Backing up, he's able to piece together the struggle. Seeing the flattened grass, the heavy boot prints, melding with the smaller ones.

Finding a body, fallen off to the side - angling off the rock with the stain. Something familiar about the look of him.

A boot sinks into their side, rolling them over. A curl of a lip - he recognizes them. One of the two bounty hunters they’d fun into.

He had hated their eyes on you when they blew through that town.

Something had prickled at him then, but he had ignored it. A grit of his jaw - should’ve dealt with both of them.

There’s a hole in their head - red spilling down their neck, still tacky to the touch. A clean, close shot. His finger sinks in the wound, the same size as your 10mm.

"Good girl." The Ghoul murmurs.

The slightest ease of the knot in his chest.

A crunch of glass beneath his feet, the glint of the sun catching the needle. Another shape he knows well - a syringe. Probably a tranquilizer.

Three meeting one, with three leaving. The dead weight of you weighing down their steps, the footprints pressing heavily into the earth.

Easy enough for him to follow, as he slings his gun free.

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game.

But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

Despite being back among faces you knew, fear had been your only companion since the meeting in the forest.

Hazy memories flicker through your mind. Being dragged, snippets of light and the heat of a fire. The bright sear of dawn, and the dry embrace of the desert again.

Waking to the feeling of your arms being wrenched above your head. Coming to, hissing and spitting. Nails catching the face of one of them - Baine, you think - his fist cracking down hard against your cheek in retaliation.

Leaving you dazed, as your wrists were caught again - bound in place. A cruel curl of a lip, as they examined you like a brahmin.

“You look like a Wastelander”. It’s spit out, a wet mark against the floor, “We’ll get you back where you belong soon enough.”

You’re not sure how much time has passed. A day, maybe. Hunger gnaws at you - only a small sliver of comfort in the dried meat and fruit tossed your way.

Axton, the head of the Reclaimers - those who were tasked with bringing people back - had grown up with you. At one time, was perhaps even more than that. A distant relation of the current Overseers, his blood too thinned out to be of use - but even he won’t look you in the eye.

You both know how this will go, when you get back home.

Hope drains from you, with each hour. Eating away at the little flicker of hope in your chest, wrapped tightly around your heart.

Maybe he’d show.

But despair clouded your thoughts, soon after.

“You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”

“You're a goddamn fool if you think I hadn’t been planning on turnin' you in the first chance I get."

Maybe he’d been truthful all along, and you hadn’t listened. Read into all those small moments, weaving them together until they had made something tangible.

The looks, stolen breaths and almost-careful touches. All fleeting, but you had caught them. Holding them close to your heart.

But life isn’t like the holotapes you grew up, back when everything felt safe.

There aren’t cowboys anymore. No heroes on horses - with their silver spurs and a shining, golden badge.

No one was coming for you.

The footprints die out, as the bleached trees grow thin.

Tall grass to packed dirt, dried by the sun. Rolling hills and then mountains, scraping against the horizon. The dipping sun casts him in a red light that bleeds to black at his ankles, his shadow stretching back long and lean behind him.

But these roads aren't wholly unknown to him.

Spent time blowing through Junktown and The Hub, a couple dozen miles away. The memory hazy, but there weren't too many places folk could stay, once the sun went down and everything wild and unruly came crawling out.

A feeling in his gut has him stopping two miles down the road. A half-dug quarry, long abandoned even before the world went to hell. Threadbare railings and platforms held together with spit and a prayer, framing the rusted building that cuts into the stone walls.

The tip of his boot taps a loose rock, sending it off the edge. Head cocked as he thinks, until he hears the faintest clatter a hundred feet below.

Two-hundred years ago, he had stood on a ledge much like this. Valley of the Gun. The final shootout had his guns lost in the dust. Fist-fighting with the leader of the gang, until they both near tumbled off the edge together.

Honorable, in the way he had caught the man's hand. Tried to haul him up, but had to let go when a knife was pulled - keeping him the hero. A satisfying death that wasn't his fault, a way to keep his conscience.

All movie tricks. Angles and the implication of falling, as the camera focused on his face that swam with regret.

Comin' after a girl then, too.

Thinks that's why the old memory has loosened in his mind.

Funny how things can change, but the bones remain. How he's still drawn back to life he's left far behind. Even if his conscience was buried, a long time ago.

Some things linger. He could go down. Take one of those ladders, work his way through the tunnels that are sure to wind through the limestone, and up through the back.

But he's never much liked being underground.

Another second of considering, before he's heading for the front door.

He used to like a script, but that was back in the day when the worst thing that could happen was a box-office bomb, not the hell he's been dragged through.

A half-cocked plan already forming. Twisting that connection between them, his own abandoned contract. Get him through the front door and to the man in charge at least, and that might be all he needs. Let years of instinct take over, after that.

Had already gotten a good look at a couple of them, when he first picked up the bounty. It had made him curious - why there was so much fuss, over so small a thing. Easy caps, he decided, when he had gotten a look at you.

Picking up that their brutality had been learned from sharpening their teeth against a silver spoon. Hardy - compared to some Wastelanders - with their filling meals and their pristine weapons.

But they sure as hell don't have the same grit as one.

Not much of anything, really, when compared to him.

The door opens with the push of his shoulder. Hand beneath the swirl of his coat, finger already fixed on the trigger. Not far in until he’s running into one of them - another Vaultie.

The man startles, wide-eyed when he sees him. Green, in his shades of blue and yellow.

“Here ‘bout a job.” The Ghoul keeps his voice light, in spite of everything.

Knows they’re keeping you alive for someone else, as much as that makes his jaw clench. No need to go rushing in just yet.

A flicker of recognition, as the man frowns, “How’d you find us?”

His head tilts, that smooth drawl slipping in, “Wouldn’t be much of a Bounty Hunter if I couldn’t, now, would I?”

The Vault Dweller’s eyes are fixed on his face, that familiar look of fear and disgust - dipping down to the pocket of his nose, the curling smile of yellowed teeth.

It’s strange how foreign it feels, after the hours spent with you looking at him so differently.

Maybe he’d been a fool, after all.

Maybe it’s more than your tight cunt that he wants to bury himself in, to claim. Something soft, bitten back behind his teeth. Something he doesn’t even know if he has a name for, anymore.

Something he didn’t know he needed , until he had chased both it and you away.

“We’ve already got her.” The man manages, after thinking it over, “Don’t think we need your services anymore.”

There’s another flash of teeth at the confirmation.

“Agreement was to find her. And who do you think rustled her up?” His brow lifts, “Would’ve been half-way to New Reno by now, if I hadn’t herded her your way.”

That sharp edge creeping in, “Think my time’s worth a little somethin ’. Don’t you?”

It’s easy for the guard to leave that decision to someone else. Standing aside, to let him pass.

“Thank you kindly.” The Ghoul tips his hat, a swirl of his coat as he passes.

Taking just enough steps past them, waiting until the man’s back turns. Spinning on his heel, after.

The knife glints between his fingers as he twirls it. A hand pressing over the Vault Dweller’s mouth, before the blade sinks into their neck.

Muffling the dying gurgle. A grunt as the Ghoul yanks the blade free - leaving the body crumpled in the shadows, as he winds deeper.

One down.

Hold on, he thinks.

I’m coming.

His whistle echoes in the chamber.

Half old-world - a long-forgotten leitmotif that fuses with new notes of his own. A part to play until he doesn't, letting the Ghoul guide him.

Down the half-lit hallway, the lights flickering overhead from the ancient generator. Everything picked clean like he figured it would be - every last piece of scrap ferreted away, leaving only dusty crates behind.

Still playing the part, as the low murmur of voices grows louder. Ears pricking up, listening for hers. Picking out at least three or four others from the layered hum.

A sneer, at the number. He’s faced worse odds. It’s in his favor really - take out as many fuckers as he can. Send bits and pieces of them back.

His intentions masked, an old habit, by the time he enters the warehouse. A wide steel grate floor, opening up to a second level below, scattered with old machinery.

There’s a table. Cards littering the top - a luxury brought from the Vault, as they bet using caps. Couple Vault Dwellers and that Wasteland son of a bitch from the town. Four total, one lounging on a sleeping pack as if it’s just another night, and they weren’t bringing you to your death.

It rankles him, teeth set on edge.

A scrape of chair legs on the floor, at the drawling condescension of his voice.

“Ain’t y’all a little old for a sleepover?”

Hands rest on holsters, but they don’t draw. The Ghoul focuses on one - a face he recognizes, the one who had sought him out.

The man’s legs spread, as if he’s got something worthwhile between them. The leader of this whole operation. Axton , or some shit like that - it hadn’t been worth his time to remember.

“Believe you fellas got somethin’ of mine.” The Ghoul drawls, “I’m here to collect.”

There’s a pause at that.

One of them, a right-hand man by the look of their padded leather armor - not a scratch on it - scowls. A face that tells another story. Pink marks start at their cheek, jagged lines that end at a thick neck.

His eyes narrow at that, lip curling. A flicker of unease in his belly - fingers clenching where they rest against his hips, close enough to draw.

“You’re too late for payment, ghoul. Heard you were dragging your feet.” His head tilts, towards the Wastelander who had gone still, “We went and got her ourselves.”

The Ghoul grins - a fierce thing, with a flash of teeth. A lilt, in his voice.

“Now, what makes you think I’m here for caps?”

It gives them pause. His question - the prospect of a ghoul showing up, unannounced.

“What else you here for?” Another grunts - eyes already back on his cards, a comfort in their numbers.

“Think you know.”

“The girl?” Atmos laughs, and the sound is cruel, “Heard she split from you. Caught her after.”

A tilt of his head towards the armored man and the Wastelander. Taunting then, “Must not be that good, if you let her slip away. What, she get tired of looking at your ugly mug?”

If they only knew the kind of things he’d done to you. What you had done to him, right back.

The Ghoul is only half-paying attention. Sticks and stones, all their insults falling on deaf ears. Too busy with eyes that flick over the top floor. Then down to the ground below.

Something flipping inside his guts, when he sees it. Cast in shadow near the base of the stairs, but his eyesight is keener than it’s ever been.

Arms bound, the knot looped around the hook of an overturned crane. A raw, split mark - swollen and bruised flesh - on the curve of a smooth cheek. Just above where your teeth cut into a piece of cloth, tied tightly around to gag you.

A tilt of your head, and then your eyes are meeting his. Round and blank with fear. Widening, when you see him.

His girl.

Muscles string tight, eyes narrowed as his teeth clench. You’d paid for what you did, and he’d be there to return the favor.

His gaze snaps back, and focuses. Whatever plan he had been working up burns, turning to ash.

“Always heard that beauty was in the eye of the beholder.” The Ghoul’s tone is conversational - although his blood boils, scalding hot, “But if you wanna see an ugly fucker , well… you best look right there.”

There’s a nod of his head, towards the man in charge. As if on cue, their heads twist to look - just as he draws, and then fires.

The Vault Dweller’s head caves in. Gore splattering against the blue of his suit. Barely a breath before his finger is tugging again, a bullet going through the chest of a second.

Always too goddamn slow.

Hesitant to take a life, even with their bravado.

Something that molted from his skin with the rest of him, over a century ago. He’s already reaching for the gun holstered at his shoulder before return shots are fired.

He can feel the flicker of something miss him, before he’s charging. Ducking under the swing of a knife, the muzzle pressed against ribs.

A hoarse shout that is drawn out by the ringing blast. The knife caught and sent spinning into the back of the Wastelander, heading towards the door.

Flinching, as something slams into his shoulder, just shy of his collarbone, and out the other side. The turn of a head - an eye fixed on the last man standing.

Padded armor won’t do much to stop him.

“That your handiwork?” The Ghoul growls, as his head tips towards you.

The man's finger twitches but he’s faster - a shot going into the meat of their thigh. Downing them as they scream, as the Ghoul saunters over to tug the hilt from where he’s buried it in the Wastlander’s back.

It glints a gleaming red in the light, as he adjusts his grip. Eyeing the scripted tattoos that cross over the man’s knuckles - as they grip at their thigh, near-tenderized from the blast.

Ones that had struck you. Could send them back, spelling out something obscene. A rough laugh at the thought.

He’s got someone waiting for him. But, he knows from experience…

That this won’t take too long.

In the hours since you parted, it’s only now that you can breathe.

For a long moment, you hadn’t dared believe. Eyes drawn to the noise above - the loud pitch of voices.

One of them - rough and low - draws your attention. Everything dark from your angle, an ache as you had tried to see.

Knowing that shadow. The brim of his hat.

The burn of his eyes, when they fixed on you. You could feel the fury in them, even from here. A muted sound of desperation from behind your gag, as you watched.

The Ghoul shoots first - the second his eyes pull away, and it’s all over in a matter of moments.

Your eyes closing at the sound of gunfire, of screaming - until it finally cuts short. Leaving the warehouse eerily silent, except for the clicking of spurs against metal.

He crouches in front of you, now - and you can’t help the whine. So much trapped behind the thick binding of cloth. All you could do is tug at your bound wrists - neck craning as you tried to watch from below.

A force of nature. Bared teeth a quick draw. Again you’re forced to admit to yourself how lucky you were to still be standing, after your first meeting.

He had blown through them like it was nothing.

“Hold on a minute, honey.” That low tone is familiar, calming you as his fingers hook around the cloth. Leaving a smear of red against your jaw as he tugs the gag free - shucking his gloves after.

“Are you hurt?” It comes out ragged. Tongue heavy in your mouth, throat dry. Eyes scanning the dark leather of his coat - all that red , smeared across it, “Thought you got hit.”

He barks out a laugh, your chin trapped between thumb and forefinger, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Something dark swirling across his features, as he tilts your head towards the light. His thumb pressing at the edge of your bruise, denting skin.

“They got you good, didn’t they?” He murmurs, and you smile through a wince, at the dull ache of pain.

“You got them.”

“Sure did,” It’s distracted, as he cuts at the binds, next. The rope fraying and then splitting, an ache in your shoulders when your arms finally lower.

“Fuckin’ amateurs.” He mutters again, watching as you wince at the rubbed-raw skin at your wrists. The corners of his lips tipped down, lost in thought.

“Thought you would’ve liked seeing me all tied up.” It’s a weak thing. An attempt at humor, the ache in your heart at seeing him cut by the acidity of your last meeting.

He blinks. Comes back to himself, a hoarse hum of amusement.

“Only when I’m doing it, sweetheart.” The Ghoul’s eyes meet yours then, a hint of a smirk with the tilt of his head.

“Can think of a much better way of gagging you, too.”

There’s almost a softness to his tone. Just barely there, tinting the rough edges. Something like hope flutters - delicate, behind your ribs.

“You… you came, for me.” You need the clarification. To hear him say it. That this isn’t some ruse, a way to take you directly to the source, “You’re not-”

There’s a sigh, as he fixes you with a long look. His head tipping towards the platform above, a lazy flick of his finger towards an arm that dangles from the ledge.

“Well that there man’s the one I got your contract from,” The Ghoul drawls, “Said I was to return what belonged to somebody else.”

Those eyes fixing on you again, “Seein’ as you’re not , and seein’ as that man is now indisposed…”

His words trail off - and you can’t help the small smile, as he finishes.

“I’m thinkin we’re square.”

The look you give him is soft. Admiring. You don’t know how he tracked you down, but he did.

“You saved me.” It’s hushed, and at your tone his eyes pull from you.

Fixing somewhere low, off to the side, as he crouches. Uncomfortable with the way you look at him. How you see him. Not used to it, not after so many years.

You’re not able to resist.

Muscles stringing stiff when you lean forward. Lips pressed against the leather of his cheek, fingers ghosting against his jaw.

A huff then, teeth biting into his tongue with the shake of a head. His eyes dark, as you pull back, hovering.

“Darlin’ if you’re going to be stealin’ a kiss, you best be doin’ it properly.” The Ghoul rasps, eyes flicking down to your mouth.

His head tips towards yours, but it’s your that meets his first. A little sound in your throat as your lips slot against his. Warm and insistent as his knees drop to press into the cement floor.

Tugging at you, as your fingers grasp at his collar. A hungry lick of his tongue against the seam of your lips as you whine, crushing your chest to his.

His fingers at your neck, your jaw. Angling your head, a rough groan as you part for him. Turning ravenous - wandering hands as your tongue slips against his. Panting breaths and a grinding of hips when he yanks you closer.

“How many were there?” He hums, as you try to sneak a ragged breath.

The curve of a smile when you try to ignore him, a click of his tongue.

“I dunno,” Your mind is too foggy. Too focused on the hands that trace against your waist, “Four? No… maybe five?”

“You don’t seem too sure, sweetheart.” He does smile then, at the little mark between your eyebrows. Untangling himself - a hand reaching down to adjust himself, as he stands.

“As much as I’d like to take you right here,” He husks, eyes dragging over you, “The last thing I need is a bullet in the ass.”

A tilt of his head, towards the open floor.

“Come on, cowpoke. Let’s do a sweep.”

the last (final, for real this time) part will be up in just a little bit! 💖 thank you so much for reading - this series has become so much to me, and every ask or comment or tag or reblog has absolutely meant the world 💕

#please mind the tags!#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #fallout tv series #fallout #cooper howard

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stevie-petey · 6 months

Text

episode eight: the gate

“Drop me and die.” Your knuckles are white as they clutch the rope, your body shaking with exhaustion as you try to ease your way down without further injuring your ribs. Steve laughs and tightens his grip on your waist, steadying you as you finally inch the rest of the way down and land with a gentle thud onto the ground. “Like I’d ever dream of letting you go.” This time, you know it’s his words that cause you to shiver, not the exhaustion and pain.

Summary: you encourage nancy to take your place (everyone is shocked), you and steve are the newest babysitters in town, billy ruins things as always, tunnels are weird when youre concussed, you remind jonathan of an old promise, and when the snowball comes you make your own promise with steve that you know you can keep.

Rating: general, although very violent

Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, intense violence and blood, weapons, monsters, probably more im forgetting

Words: 20.1k (no one speak to me)

Before you swing in: this is it ,,, the final episode of season two <3 this chapter was both the easiest and hardest one ive ever written. there are scenes in here that i put so much into, and im so proud of where everything landed. handling so many relationships and dynamics was so incredibly difficult, but i adore where they ended up. i hope you guys do, too :)

“Eleven,”

“Mike.”

The two kids embrace, Mike holding desperately onto El as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again any second, and she’s holding onto him just as tightly as their tears mix together.

You watch them with a hand over your heart, your own tears spilling over. You can’t believe this is real, that El is standing in Mike’s arms alive and real.

The way they cling to each other brings more tears to your eyes. It’s obvious to everyone how much they love one another. You think about the endless batches of brownies you baked for Mike, how many nights you spent in his basement standing watch, looking for any sign of grief, in case he needed you there to remind him that it’s okay to cry.

“Is that…?” Max asks Lucas, and he nods.

“She’s back.” You exhale, feeling Dustin’s fingers slip between yours. He knows how much you missed El, he’s spent just as many nights keeping watch over you, reminding you to cry as well.

Mike pulls away, his eyes shining with tears. “I never gave up on you. I called you every night. Every night for–”

“353 days.” El finishes for him, you’ve never heard so much emotion in her voice. “I heard.”

You think about the nights you found Mike huddled underneath the fort he once built for El in his basement, clutching the radio to his chest, passed out from exhaustion. You never mentioned it to the boy, knowing he’d simply deny and tell you it was nothing, but hearing El confirm what you already knew still hurts.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there?”

You look around the room now, wondering the same as Mike, and then your eyes land on Hopper. While everyone looks surprised or confused at El’s reappearance, Hopper’s face is one of resignation.

Everything clicks.

He knew.

Hopper sees that you’ve pieced it together and steps forward. “Because I wouldn’t let her.”

You step forward as well so that you’re next to Mike, knowing that this will only upset him more. “You knew.”

“What the hell is this?” The chief ignores you, now speaking only to El. “Where’ve you been?”

“Where have you been?” El’s eyes darken, but she immediately melts when Hopper pulls her into a hug. By watching their body language, you can tell that they love each other dearly, and distantly you remember hearing about the daughter Hopper once had.

Though you’re angry he hid El from you, you’re thankful they found one another in the end. You’ve never seen Hopper so tender with someone, and El seems to feel safe within his embrace, far from the skittish girl you found in the woods last year.

“You’ve been hiding her!” Lost in your thoughts, you momentarily forget about Mike, who launches himself at Hopper and punches the man’s chest. “You’ve been hiding her this whole time!”

Hopper flinches away. “Hey–”

“Mike,” you grab his shoulders, knowing his anger will only do more harm than good, but he struggles against you as he tries to continue hitting the man. “We can all talk about this–”

“Let’s talk,” Hopper grabs at Mike’s shirt, finally forcing the kid to stop. Then, looking directly at you, he adds. “Alone.”

You look at Mike, silently asking him what he needs from you. You know the two of them need to settle their differences, that he feels Hopper’s betrayal the deepest and you trust him to make his own choices. However, with one headshake from him, you would prevent Mike from being alone with Hopper in a heartbeat.

Mike knows this, he doesn’t have to even have to ask what you mean when you gently nod your chin at him. Taking a deep breath, the boy sighs and nods at you, indicating that he’ll talk with the cop.

You let go of Mike and gently push him towards Hopper. “He’s all yours, but try not to kill him, please? I unfortunately like the kid.”

Hopper doesn’t play into your words and promptly grabs the back of Mike’s hoodie and marches him towards Will’s room. The door closes behind them, leaving you to deal with El.

Her nose is bleeding and she looks upset having Mike taken from her, there’s an exhaustion behind her eyes that you’re all too familiar with. You wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into you. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

El leans into the kiss you press upon her cheek and closes her eyes, relishing in the tenderness after the night she’s had. “Missed you.”

“And I missed you.” You place another kiss on her head. “The hairstyle suits you, by the way.”

This seems to lighten the girl up a bit, who giggles and quietly thanks you as she wraps her arms fully around you now, securing you into a hug. You allow her all the time she needs to collect herself.

When you hear Mike’s heartbroken screams at Hopper, calling him a liar, you squeeze your arms tighter around El. “They’ll be fine,” you promise her, feeling the need to reassure her of this, though hearing Mike’s screams breaks your heart.

You understand why Hopper hid El, it wasn’t safe for anyone to know about her being alive, but Mike spent the entire year grieving for her. He lost a year of his childhood mourning the loss of a close friend, of someone he loves, and it isn’t fair to expect him to accept this.

El nods at your reassurance before you’re suddenly shoved away from her.

“You’re hogging the former dead girl, Y/N!” Dustin exclaims as he engulfs El into a hug.

Lucas flashes you an apologetic smile before hugging the girl as well, focusing his attention on her. “We missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She responds, squeezing both boys tight.

“We talked about you pretty much every day.” Dustin pulls away before pointing at you. “Y/N usually just cried.”

You elbow your brother, causing him to wince. “You say that like I don’t normally cry over things.”

Dustin opens his mouth to argue, but suddenly El’s fingers are pinching at his lips as she pries his jaw open. Your brother looks at you in alarm, and you’re too stunned to do anything besides watch in bewilderment.

“Teeth.” El finally says,

You giggle, while Dustin simply stares at her as if she’s insane. “What?”

“You have teeth.”

Dustin breaks into a smile. “Oh, you like these pearls?”

When he makes an obscure purring sound with his mouth, you scoff at your brother and roll your eyes alongside Lucas. “Please, never do that ever again.”

“Eleven?” Max now approaches with a warm smile on her face, the most open you’ve ever seen the girl, and extends her hand for El to shake. “Hey, um. I’m Max. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

El looks at you and tilts her head, which you assume means she’s unsure what to do, so you step in. “Max is a friend, sweetheart.”

She eyes Max’s hand, looks up at her again, before bypassing the girl completely and going straight into Joyce’s arms.

You frown, confused by El’s unusual dismissiveness, and look over at Max. Her head is ducked down, embarrassed, and you make a mental note to remind yourself later to ask El what happened. Max is a good girl, they deserve to be friends and you know they’d get along if given the chance.

Joyce cradles El’s head and greets her with tears, and the girl responds the same. After they’ve hugged, El pulls away, her tears now ones of worry. “Can I see him?”

Joyce’s eyes flash to you, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing: it’s no coincidence that El arrived when she did. You think about what Dustin and the kids deciphered in morse code, Will’s hidden message.

Close the gate.

El is the only person you know can do it.

“Go take her to him,” you tell Joyce. “I’ll catch everyone else up.”

The woman nods, her eyes appreciative, before gently guiding El towards Will’s room.

“I’m assuming I’m ‘everyone’.” Steve says as soon as Joyce and El have left.

You laugh, finally rejoining his side. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Alright, catch me up then. Who was the girl and why does she have a bloody nose problem?”

“Her name is Eleven, or El. Besides the Demogorgon, and Demodogs, did we ever discuss El?”

Nancy speaks up from the corner, timid. “I, uh… Didn’t tell Steve a lot. We kinda just, we–we didn’t ever really–”

“I never let Nancy explain, and I was too afraid to ask.” Steve kindly saves Nancy, and something both you and Jonathan take note of.

“Well,” you clap your hands, dispelling away any remaining tension for both your sake and the kids’ sakes. “El has these powers, she can make things move with her mind, and when she uses them she gets nose bleeds.”

Steve stares at you. “Okay…”

“Mhm. It’s just as insane as it sounds. Remember the whole Upside Down story Dustin and I told you about yesterday? Well, she can travel there and has a connection to it. With her mind. Somehow. I don’t actually know the logistics of it.”

“You’re doing great, bug.” Jonathan’s voice drips with sarcasm, but Dustin hits his chest to shut him up.

“Thanks, Dustin. Anyways, El has these insane powers and she’s the sweetest, softest person I’ve ever met. We…” your voice trails off now, still getting used to the fact that she’s alive. “We thought we lost her last year, when she killed the Demogorgon and helped bring Will back.”

“But she’s alive.” Steve concludes.

You nod, a natural smile spreading across your face. “She is.”

“If you say she’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met, then I definitely believe you.”

Steve’s words make you blush, the pure and honest way he says them, and both Dustin and Jonathan cringe. The two boys share a look, both for once on the same page in a long time, and make gagging motions.

You see this and flick both of their heads. “I know where you both sleep.”

Both boys stick their tongue out at you, and for a moment everything feels normal. Jonathan and Dustin are teasing you, Jonathan’s eyes are lit up, and your brother is carefree again.

Then Joyce returns to the living room with El and the mood becomes somber again.

They stand over the kitchen table, El stares down at the piece of paper with the “close gate” on it, and Joyce asks the question you’ve all been wondering. “You opened this gate before, right?”

“Yes,” the girl responds as you and everyone else now join her and Joyce.

“Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?”

El looks between you and Joyce, her gaze stony and resigned. You wonder what else she’s gone through to put such a void within her; like all the other kids, she no longer has a sweet naivety to her.

Then, slowly, El nods.

–

“It’s not like it was before. It’s grown. A lot.” Everyone stands in the kitchen, circling around Hopper as he explains exactly what the gate now is. “I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”

You grab Dustin’s shirt and yank harshly at it. “Don’t you dare–”

“Demodogs.”

Hopper looks at him, sighing. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Please just ignore him.” You plead with the officer, knowing he’s already in a bitchy mood.

Dustin doesn’t pick up on the anger, though. “I said, uh… Demodogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, rubbing at your temples. You’ve heard this explanation of the word play a million times within the last twenty-four hours. If you have to hear Dustin explain what Demodog means one more time, you think you may murder the kid.

Dustin, unfortunately, continues. “You put them together… it sounds pretty badass–”

“How is this important right now?” Hopper snaps at the boy, which only makes you more annoyed.

You put your hand up at the old man, closing your fingers together to mimic a mouth being shut. “One more aggressive comment to the thirteen year old and I will show you that Nancy isn’t the only one who can shoot a gun.”

“Uh, Y/N…” Jonathan nervously mumbles, unsure what Hopper’s reaction may be.

However, the chief simply raises an eyebrow at you, stares you down for a few seconds, before finally seeming to decide that he’s impressed with your bold comment. “I’ll make sure to remember that.”

“I can do it.” El suddenly voices from the other end of the table.

“You’re not hearing me.” Hopper’s shoulders slump. You can tell by his now defeated stance that he has yet to win an argument against El, something that you’re incredibly proud of her for.

“I’m hearing you. I can do it.”

“Even if El can, there’s still another problem.” Mike speaks up, looking around the table to ensure everyone is listening. “If the brain dies, the body dies.”

Max frowns. “I thought that was the whole point.”

“It is, but if we’re really right about this…”

“Will,” you breathe out quietly with dread, understanding where Mike is going with this.

Mike continues explaining. “I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army–”

“Will’s a part of that army.” Lucas finishes as he looks over at you, now knowing why you’ve just exhaled the boy’s name with grief.

“Closing the gate will kill him.”

Jonathan tenses at Mike’s words, and you place your hand against the back of his neck in a grounding manner. You can feel his rapid heartbeat against your hand, even from this position, and you play with his hair to try and soothe him.

He’s terrified of what may happen to his little brother, once again struck with pure terror that he could lose him. You’re not sure how many more times Jonathan can grieve his brother without losing a piece of himself.

Steve, standing on your other side, sees the way your fingers intertwine in Jonathan’s hair. The same way they did earlier with his own hair as you hugged him.

He frowns, looking away.

Everyone else falls silent as well, Mike’s words hang in the air. Your gaze shifts to Joyce, who has a deep frown on her face, and before you ask her what she’s thinking, she stands up from the table. “Follow me.”

No one says anything as you all follow the woman to Jonathan’s room, where Will lays motionless on top of the bed you’ve slept in for years. His body is stiff, the hospital gown swallows him, and the sight disturbs you.

You walk over to the boy and kneel next to the bed. It’s in your nature to take care of Will, you do this without even thinking about it. Stroking his forehead, you place a kiss against it as you watch his mom in the doorway.

“He likes it cold.” Joyce mumbles, eying the open window in the room.

“What?” Asks Hopper, standing behind the woman.

Joyce looks over at her son now. “It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” Then, as her voice grows stronger, she walks over to the window and slams it shut. “We keep giving it what it wants.”

Nancy and Jonathan walk over to you now, the girl remains standing while Jonathan kneels down next to you. The two of you take turns caressing Will’s forehead as Nancy starts to speak. “If this thing is a virus, and Will’s the host, then…”

“Then we need to make the host uninhabitable.”

You turn to Jonathan, not at all liking what he’s saying. “What does that even mean? He’s a kid, how do you make a child’s body uninhabitable?”

“He likes it cold.” Nancy says, as if that explains everything.

“But–”

Joyce clenches her jaw and spits out, “We need to burn it out of him.”

Everything about what Joyce has said makes your stomach twist. You look down at Will’s body, at how small he still is despite a year of trying to get him to recover, and his pale skin is almost translucent in the bedroom’s lighting.

You hate everything about what’s happening, but you hate the way Will looks lifeless even more.

If making his body uninhabitable can save him, then you have to try; you’ll simply be there to pick up the pieces when it’s done, as you always are.

The kids begin planning now.

“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time.” Mike says.

“Yeah, somewhere far away.” Dustin adds on.

“Last I checked, none of us have a hidden hut in the woods.” You say, at a loss for where else to possibly take Will. Then, Hopper clears his throat and shifts his weight. “Oh, no fucking way. You would have a hidden hut in the woods.”

“It’s a cabin.” Hopper corrects with annoyance, though there’s a slight glint in his eye as he looks at you. “Joyce and Jonathan will take Will there.”

“Well, go show them the cabin, then.”

Jonathan grabs your hand. “You’re not coming with?”

As if there’s a string tugging at the back of your head, you turn around and catch Steve’s eye. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes alert yet sad, and you know with everything within you that you can’t leave him behind.

Not when he was shaking in your arms only twenty minutes prior.

Steve doesn’t want to be alone, especially not when you’d be leaving him behind with Nancy after it’s become clear that she’s with Jonathan now.

Now, as Jonathan’s open and expecting eyes stare into yours, you do something you’ve never done before. Something you’ve needed to do ever since you were twelve and grabbed the boy’s hand on the Wheeler’s porch that fateful night.

You let go of Jonathan.

“I can’t,” you tell him, the words of denial feeling foreign on your tongue. You’ve never told him no before, never left him behind, but saying the words isn’t as difficult as you once feared. “I’ll stay with the kids, I’m better with them anyways.”

Jonathan watches you, his eyes trace over your face again and again as if drinking it in for the very last time. When he seems to find what he’s looking for, he takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, okay.”

His understanding of everything you don’t say almost makes you take it all back, but you don’t. Instead, you squeeze his hand and nod towards Nancy. “Why don’t you take Nance?”

Something shifts when you say this, you know Jonathan feels it as well. There’s an ease within the shift, almost akin to a soft exhale in December’s cold. It parts you with a gentle farewell, strokes your cheek as it departs, and you can faintly see its outline as it floats away.

A thread, one that has tugged within your chest in a painful ache since last year, finally loosens.

Nancy looks at you, her eyes wide. “Me?”

“Mhm,” you nod at the girl, a kind smile on your face.

It’s a monumental shift, you’re willingly encouraging Nancy to be next to Jonathan’s side rather than you. It’s an exchange of powers, trusting her to take care of the boy you love so dearly.

For once, it doesn’t feel like you’re tearing off a piece of yourself. Instead, you’re simply sharing the weight of it, of this trust, rather than losing it.

“I… I think I’ll stay here.” Nancy finally says, looking away in shame.

You don’t blame her, you know she carries a weight of guilt within her for things she couldn’t control. There’s a lot you want to say to her, a lot you have to say to her, but for now you simply nod at her, understanding. “Then I’m happy you’re here.”

And you mean it.

Steve, still quietly standing in the doorway, sees everything. He felt the shift, too.

–

“You should go with him.” Steve picks up a spare heater, he and Nancy have been sent outside to retrieve whatever they could find from the Byers’ yard.

The shift weighs heavily upon him. Your words ring in his ears.

Nancy spares Steve a glance. “What?”

“With Jonathan.” He bends down to dig through some old Christmas lights, and seeing them reminds him of you. Everything reminds him of you. “Y/N’s right. You should go with him.”

“No, I–” Nancy scoffs, uncomfortable. “I’m not just gonna leave Mike.”

Steve thinks about you, about how you’re always the one who stays. “No one’s leaving anyone.” He walks over to Nancy and helps her with a radiator she’s struggling with. “I may be a shitty boyfriend, but… I realized I’m actually a pretty damn good friend and babysitter.”

Though he never says your name, Nancy can feel it hang over the two of them. The unspoken confession that it’s because of you that Steve now accepts what has happened between them. It strikes her then, how different he is now. How differently you and the girl came to know Steve.

Nancy stares at him, her eyes are filled with more remorse than he’s ever seen from the girl. It hurts, seeing her so upset, and he wishes that things could’ve been different. He recognizes now that they didn’t stand a chance, though he’s happy they tried anyways. It was always going to end like this between them.

Steve doesn’t hold any anger towards her, he doesn’t hate her, because he still loves her.

How could you possibly fault the person you love for finding their own love?

“Steve…” His name comes through as an apology.

“It’s okay, Nance.” Steve means it, he gives her the same blessing that you did. She’s allowed to be happy, you both want her to be happy, and you have each other to lean on now. “Y/N and I will be okay.”

He leaves Nancy standing there.

–

You’re waiting to say goodbye to El, standing patiently behind Mike as the two of them make promises about coming back. It’s sweet, watching them, until they slowly start to lean in for what you fear is a kiss, so you intervene.

“Hate to ruin the moment, but I’d like to say goodbye to El, too.”

Mike glares at you. “Couldn’t wait five seconds?”

“A five second kiss is shameful, Wheeler.”

El giggles softly and pulls you into a hug. “I will be careful.”

You kiss her cheek. “Come back this time, okay?”

“I will.”

Hopper calls the girl over to get in the car so they can leave, and you quickly run over to Jonathan’s car before he can get in.

When he sees you approaching, he extends his arms out and pulls you in as he always does. No words are needed, he simply holds you so that you’re chest to chest and he can feel every breath you take. “I’ll come home to you.”

You bury your face in his neck, inhale the scent you’ve come to associate with your childhood and warm, sunny days. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The words ease between the two of you, finally warm after months of being cold.

Nancy then appears, and when you notice her you break away from Jonathan. “I see you’re joining?”

“I am.” She nods. “Seems I have you to thank.”

You smile and grab her hand. Your grip is firm, but sincere. “Don’t make me regret it, okay?”

Your words are teasing, but Nancy senses the undertones of a warning. Jonathan is your best friend, she has always known this, and she knows how much weight has gone into your trust for her. Nancy understands that you’re giving her something precious to you, and she will forever be indebted for it.

“I won’t.” She promises. “And good luck with Steve and the kids.”

“Oh, I’ll need it.” You laugh, and any remaining tension that has hung over you and Nancy finally disappears.

Once Jonathan and Nancy get into the car, you stand on the porch with Steve and everyone else as you watch the cars drive away.

–

You poke around the Byers’ kitchen for some food; your stomach has been rumbling for hours and you’re sure the kids are hungry, too. However, like usual, you come up with nothing. As you dig through a cabinet, Dustin walks into the kitchen and starts clearing out the fridge.

“What are you doing?” You ask, knowing that this can’t be for anything good.

Dustin doesn’t answer, continuing to carelessly throw racks of food onto the floor.

“Hey, stop!” As you walk over, Steve suddenly comes rushing in, holding a very dead, and very disgusting, Demodog.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Absolutely not.”

Dustin groans at you. “C’mon, Y/N! This is absolutely necessary, it’s a groundbreaking scientific discovery.”

“It is a dead creature, from an alternate universe–”

“We can’t just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It’s not a dog–”

“Oh, so now it’s not a dog after you’ve stated a million times that it’s a Demodog–”

Steve steps in between you and Dustin. “Alright, alright, enough!” He begins to shove the Demodog into the fridge before you can stop him. “But Dustin, you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers, alright?”

“You both are idiots,” you mumble, watching as Steve and Dustin pathetically try to make the giant Demodog fit into the fridge. “I’m leaving.”

You’re seriously starting to regret their friendship.

However, you know when to pick your battles, and as you watch the two boys try to maneuver the body into the fridge, you know that this is not a cause worth fighting for.

Instead, you exit the kitchen and instruct the rest of the kids to start cleaning the house. It’s a mess, glass shattered everywhere from the dead Demodog and papers thrown haphazardly around during the morse decoding.

The mess will only add more unneeded stress to Joyce’s life, so as Lucas and Max groan at you for making them do work, you stand your ground and shove a broom into their hands.

“You suck, you know.” Lucas grumbles, but Max hits his shoulder and holds the dust pan as he sweeps.

As they get to work on the shattered glass, you figure it’s best that you call your mom before you forget again. You know she’s probably worried sick about you and Dustin for disappearing so suddenly without a word.

However, when you walk over to the wall where the phone normally is, it’s gone.

“Hey, uh. Where did the phone go?” You ask Dustin, who has finally left the kitchen. “I need to call mom.”

“Oh, Nancy threw it when it rang. She went kinda berserk.”

You look towards where Dustin is pointing and see the phone, in fact disconnected, on the ground across the room. The sight makes you snort. “Guess she really likes throwing phones, huh?”

Your brother doesn’t understand the joke. “What?”

“Nevermind,” you shake your head. There’s no use explaining to the boy about a quick, five second moment from last year. Nancy had done the exact same thing when Steve had tried to call the cops when the Demogorgon originally attacked you.

Dustin mumbles something about your blood loss making you delusional, but you ignore him and begin sweeping the hallway. You order him to help, and soon the two of you are cleaning the Byers’ home.

You’ve just finished sweeping when you notice Mike pacing around the room. He’s anxious, that much is obvious, and whenever he begins to pace: trouble soon follows. He’s brewing up a plan, you can feel it.

After the fifth time the boy has paced the room, Lucas has finally had enough. “Mike, would you just stop already?”

“You weren’t in there, okay Lucas?” Mike stops pacing. “That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.”

“Demodogs–oomph!” Dustin corrects, only to be cut off by your hand clamping over his mouth.

“Say it again, I dare you.” You warn him before turning towards Mike. “Look, I know it’s nerve wracking, but all we can do right now is trust El’s abilities and wait.”

Lucas nods. “Yeah, the chief will also take care of her.”

“Like she needs protection.” Max quips from the floor, dustpan still in hand.

You feel a hand place itself on the small of your back. The weight of the palm is starting to become familiar to you, the length of the fingers and the way they splay across the span of your back are slowly becoming recognizable.

Without turning, you know that Steve has joined you.

“Listen, dude,” he says in a placating voice to Mike. “A coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. Alright?”

You wince. While you’re impressed that Steve is trying to intervene and reason with Mike, you know immediately that his approach will fail. Trying to reason with the kid using a sport analogy is like trying to explain magic to a mathematician.

“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game.” Mike rolls his eyes, which you expected. “And second, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”

“RIght! So–so my point… My point is…” Steve stumbles over his words and Mike’s unwavering insistence. When he can’t think of a better response, he lets out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, we’re on the bench, so–uh, there’s nothing we can do.”

You pity Steve, honestly. It takes years of careful analyzing and strategic planning in order to prepare yourself for an argument against Mike Wheeler.

Patting his shoulder, step in to help. “What I’m sure Steve means is that while we may be benched, that doesn’t mean we can’t keep the homefront secure.”

“That’s not how sports work, Y/N.” Steve whispers obscenely loud, but quickly shuts up when you glare at him.

“Stupid sports analogy aside, there’s nothing we can do besides keep watch here and wait for everyone to return.” Even though you know you’re saying the right thing, that it’s best you follow Hopper’s order of staying put, even you don’t believe the words you’re saying. “We may not be able to help right now, but later, I promise we will be the best damn homefront ever.”

Dustin clears his throat. “That’s not entirely true.”

You turn to him and a sigh escapes you when you see the plan already forming behind his eyes. “I can’t argue with you, can I?”

“Nope.”

“Great, go on then. Share with the class what you’re thinking.”

“I mean, these Demodogs, they have a hive mind.” Dustin begins. “When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

Lucas thinks about this. “So if we get their attention…”

“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab.” Max concludes, and you take a second to marvel at how seamlessly she’s integrated herself into the party.

However, you then remember what Lucas said. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘get their attention’? Why do those words scare me so much?”

Mike talks over you. “We can clear a path to the gate.”

You have a multitude of questions and Steve seems to be thinking exactly what you are when he loudly exclaims, “Yeah, and then we all die!”

“That’s one point of view.”

“Dustin, that’s quite literally the only way to look at it.” You flick his hat and he swats your hand away.

Steve points at you, nodding in agreement. “That’s a fact.”

“Thanks, Steve–” Mike’s body slams into yours as he runs past you. “Christ, Wheeler!”

“I got it!” The boy shrieks, running out of the room as he wordlessly instructs everyone to follow. He kneels in front of the fridge and points wildly at one of the pictures Will has drawn. “This is where the chief dug his hole, this is our way into the tunnel.”

“Into? What do you mean into?”

Mike shoves past you again and runs into the living room. “Here, right here.” He stands in the middle, where all the pictures have interlocked together to form a center. “This is like a hub. So, you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire…”

“Fire?” You shriek as Steve quickly follows with, “Oh, yeah that’s a no!”

Dustin, however, is on board with what Mike is planning. “The mind flayer would call away his army.”

“They’d all come to stop us!” Lucas waves his arms madly at you, as if saying this will get you to agree to the plan that’s forming.

You throw your hands up in surrender. “Look, I recognize that we could maybe do something–”

“Hey!” Steve looks astonished that you’re even considering this.

“I mean, if we can help then I don’t see why we can’t just–”

Mike shakes your arm now, deciding that your hesitation is an agreement. “We then can circle back to the exit! By the time they realize we’re gone–”

“El would be at the gate!” Max now also is looking at you. “C’mon, Y/N. You have to admit that it’s a solid plan.”

You bite your lip. It is. That’s the problem with the Wheelers. They come up with these insanely dangerous and insane plans, yet they’re also always brilliant. You know it’s risky, Hopper could barely even explain the tunnels to you without shaking in fear, but… Who’s to say that the Demodogs won’t simply go after Will and Jonathan at the cabin? Or kill Hopper and El before they even reach the lab.

It’s obvious you can’t just sit here and wait.

El has to close the gate, that much is certain, and because of this: you have to help her. You have to help everyone, keep them safe.

“It’s a solid plan,” you finally breathe out, and all the kids start to cheer.

“I knew you were my favorite sister!”

“Dustin, I’m your only sister–”

“Hey! Hey–” Steve pushes himself in between you and the kids, clapping his hands to break up any further conversations. “Hey! This is not happening.”

Mike tries to argue, “But–”

“No, no, no!” Steve places his hands on his hips like a disgruntled father. “No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

You don’t like the way Steve is speaking to the kids, commanding them as if he’s their parent. “Hey, no. We aren’t doing that.”

“Doing what?” He looks at you, eyes wide as he quickly gathers that he’s upset you. The fight in his voice is gone, replaced with quiet guilt.

“We don’t ever command the kids, not like that, anyways.” You step away from them and pull Steve aside with you to give the two of you some privacy. “Look, I know you promised Nance you’d take care of them, but I also promised Jonathan. We have to help, Steve.”

His face twists with confliction, and the two of you are caught between what Nancy wants and what Jonathan wants. They both want the kids to be safe, but they have different viewpoints of how they expect you and Steve to do so.

Nancy wants to keep her brother out of it, Jonathan wants to save his brother’s life.

“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, begging you to change your mind.

The confliction on his face hurts to look at, you hate that you’ve made him feel this way, but you can only shake your head at him. “I’m sorry, but we’re doing this.”

“Yes!” Mike rushes over to you and surprises you with a hug. “This is why I keep you around!”

“Okay, no.” You push the kid away and hold him by the shoulders to ensure he listens to you. “That doesn’t mean I think we should all go down into the tunnels. I’ll go, and Steve will stay here with you guys–”

“What? No! You’re not going down there by yourself, Y/N.” Steve doesn’t understand how you would expect him to ever let you do that. “We’re all on the bench, okay? We’re waiting for the starting team to do their job.”

“This isn’t a stupid sports game.” Mike groans in annoyance before focusing his attention back to you. “And no one in the party gets left behind. If you go, we all go.”

The sincerity in Mike’s voice warms you. He’s defending you, protecting you how you’ve always protected him, and you’ve never been more impressed with his bravery; it’s because of this, his bravery and admiration for you, that you know you have to go into the tunnels alone.

It would kill you if Mike got hurt, if any of the kids got hurt.

Steve sees the way your eyes shine at Mike’s words and his stomach twists. He knows he can’t change your mind about going alone, he knows you’d never, ever let anyone get hurt. That you’d lay down your life for these kids and those you love.

The bloodied cloth wrapped around your rib cage reminds Steve that he’s a part of it all now. You have laid down your life for him.

And he’s never, ever going to let you get hurt because of him again.

Steve steps forward and gently grabs your arm, he needs you to understand how much your selflessness terrifies him in this moment. “Y/N–”

The revving of an engine cuts him off.

It’s a familiar sound. You’ve heard this car before. The sound of it has seared itself into your memories. The hair on your arms stands up, and within seconds Max is at the window, looking out in fear.

“It’s my brother.” Max’s voice is terrified. Not even in the junkyard, when Demodogs had been raining down on you and the kids, had you heard such terror in the girl’s voice. “He can’t know I’m here.”

You’re at her side in a heartbeat, tugging her away from the window. You’ve seen the way Billy acts around Max, you remember the harshness he displayed in the parking lot. The same harshness that left bruises on your waist when he had you pinned against the wall on Halloween. “I won’t let him touch you.”

Your words have a bite to them. Max hears the oath within them, she has never believed anyone when they’ve told her this. “He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.”

“He won’t.” You promise her, trying to control the pure rage you feel because of her brother. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but he’s hurt Max for the last time.

Steve watches your exchange with Max and feels his hands clench into fists. Anger fizzes through his body. As you console the girl, your eyes meet his and he nods. With one simple head movement, the two of you have silently agreed to do whatever it takes to ensure that Billy never hurts Max ever again.

–

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”

You’re standing behind Steve.

Billy hasn’t seen you yet.

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” Steve’s hand tightens around your arm as he guides you further behind him. He doesn’t like that you’re here with him. He hates the way Billy’s eyes roam over your body without any shame.

But you insisted on coming outside, and Steve has never been able to tell you no.

You step out from behind Steve and force your hands to rest by your side in nonchalance. “God, I was hoping you’d be allergic to milk.”

Billy raises his eyebrows when he sees you; you’ve surprised him. “Why, it’s always a pleasure seeing you, sweetheart.”

Steve’s clenched fists only tighten when he hears Billy’s nickname for you. He hates the implications behind it, the way he says it with such sickly sweetness that leaves Steve’s stomach feeling raw.

He can’t imagine how you feel whenever you hear it, and it only makes Steve hate Billy more.

“It’s never a pleasure for me.” You cross your arms as Billy now stands in front of you and Steve.

The teen laughs darkly and eyes Steve up and down. “What are you doing here, amigo?”

“I could ask you the same thing… Amigo.” His voice carries an air of indifference, but you know that tomorrow there will be indentations in Steve’s palms from his fingernails.

“Looking for my stepsister.” Billy lights a cigarette and smirks at you. “A little birdie told me she was here.”

“Huh, that’s weird. I don’t know her.”

Billy smirks at Steve’s words and motions over to you. “Yeah, but this little lady does.”

“Max isn’t here.” You say, forcing your anger down to play along with Steve’s indifference. “Have you checked the quarry? A lot of kids like to hang out there.”

Smoke surrounds you as Billy responds, “Don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Henderson.”

With every dodged question, you’re only angering the teen more. If you and Steve keep this up, you’ll only make everything harder to manage. You try to think of something to distract Billy, but all you know about him is that he’s a sleazy pig with a cigarette addiction.

Then, it hits you.

His weird fascination with you.

If you use it against him, maybe you can get him away from the Byers’ house long enough for Steve and the kids to leave.

You step closer to Billy, ignoring every part of you that screams in rejection. You’re covered in blood and your hair is probably a mess, but you bat your eyelashes anyways and quirk your head up at Billy with an innocent smile. “I could show you, if you want.”

Just as you hoped, your sudden interest in him catches Billy’s attention. He presses his chest against yours and looks down at you, a pleased smile on his face. “And what would you be showing me, sweetheart?”

“The quarry, silly.” You giggle, trying not to gag at the reek of cigarette smoke. “It’s secluded… No one really goes down there. It’s, well–this is embarrassing.”

You duck your head down and act as if you’re blushing. Billy takes the bait and uses his fingers to lift your head up to look at him again. “Go on, tell me.”

You make a show of biting your lip. “Well, it’s where every teen in Hawkins goes to… Be alone.”

Billy’s eyes darken again, even more interested in what you have to say. He leans down, his lips inches from yours, and you know you have him right where you want him.

Please, you think. I just want to protect the kids.

His breath fans across your face and he’s about to agree, to have you lead him away and forget all about his bitch of a sister, when Steve roughly pushes him away from you.

“Max isn’t here, man.” He spits out, his once controlled anger now spilling over the edge.

You want to scream at him, you almost had Billy. He was seconds away from agreeing, and the stupid idiot pushes him away from you?

Billy looks between you and Steve and lets out a low chuckle. “Sorry, Harrington. Forgot that she’s yours.”

Steve moves as if to hit him but you quickly grab at his jacket, stopping him. Billy sees this and laughs again.

“You know, I don’t know… This whole situation, Harrington.” He shrugs, exhales more smoke. “I don’t know. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Oh yeah, why’s that?”

You’re silent, hand still clutching Steve’s jacket.

Billy exhales more smoke. “My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you in a stranger’s house, alongside Y/N Henderson, the town’s darling, all bloodied and bruised. And you lie to me about it.”

From an outsider’s perspective, you hate how much Billy makes sense.

To anyone else, this would look incredibly incriminating against Steve.

Yet, Steve still tries to deny it all. “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?”

“I’m assuming he was.” You voice, looking nervously at Billy as he seems to grow more and more volatile.

“I don’t know what you don’t understand about what Y/N and I have told you. Max isn’t here.”

Billy leans in close to Steve and points with his cigarette towards the house. “Then who is that?”

You and Steve turn, and your heart drops when you see Max and the boys all quickly duck their heads out of the window.

“Shit,” you breathe out, knowing it’s over.

You really hate those kids sometimes.

“Listen,” Steve tries to make up some excuse, but Billy roughly shoves him to the ground.

“I told you to plant your feet.” Bully sneers as he looms over him. You try to help Steve up, but you’re pushed aside as Billy then stomps on Steve’s ankle with a sickening crunch that makes your own wounded ankle sting.

As he storms towards the house, you quickly help Steve up, He pushes you away. “I’ll be fine, go help the kids!”

“But–”

You can’t just leave Steve while he’s hurt, but every time you try to help him up, he bats your hand away.

“Go!”

From inside the house, you hear the kids start to scream, and you reluctantly leave Steve behind and run inside. When you enter, Billy already has Lucas pinned against the wall as all the kids scream at him to let the boy go. Lucas is hitting at the teen’s chest desperately, but nothing is working.

“Stay away from her.” Billy spits in the boy’s face, who is paralyzed with fear.

“Lucas!” You all but throw yourself onto Billy’s back as you begin hitting and pulling his hair. Anything you can think of, you try, but it’s no use. With Billy’s size and build, you’re nothing but a fucking bug to him.

“I said get off of me!” Lucas kneels Billy in the groin, sending you and the teen flying back, but at least he’s let go of Lucas.

You let go of Billy and place yourself between him and the boy, your breath comes out ragged. You don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing. All your mind can think of right now is protecting the kids, but in the midst of screaming and exhaustion and blood loss, you can’t think of anything.

Billy tries to get to Lucas again, his teeth bared with fury. “You’re so dead, Sinclair. So dead!”

In your exhaustion and fear, you call out for the only person you can think of. “Steve!”

He’s at your side in a heartbeat, quickly looking at you to make sure you’re okay, before he flings Billy away from you and Lucas. “No, you are!”

Steve’s punch lands perfectly, with a precision far from his pathetic punches thrown last year against Jonathan. It’s incredibly hot.

Billy begins to laugh in a manic manner that frightens you, but all of his attention is now on Steve, so you use this opportunity to drag Lucas over to the rest of the kids and make sure everyone is okay.

You trust that Steve has everything else handled, but you make sure to keep an eye on him anyways while you take care of the kids.

“Are you okay?” You check Lucas over for any injuries, who numbly nods as he’s still in shock, while Billy screams something about always wanting to meet King Steve.

“Get out.” Despite Steve’s leveled voice, his tone is vicious.

Billy swings again, but Steve manages to duck just in time before he lands yet another punch to the boy’s face.

“Yes!” Dustin shouts with glee, but you remember the fight from last year. How Steve had lost miserably against Jonathan. A boy half of Billy’s size.

While you’re impressed with Steve’s fighting improvement, you’re not sure how longer he’ll be able to keep this up. When more punches land on Billy and all he does is laugh menacingly, you know you don’t have a lot of time left.

You’re fucking terrified.

The kids are still cheering Steve on when you turn to them, panicked. “You guys need to leave. Now.”

“What? But Steve’s winning!” Dustin says as Steve’s fist connects with Billy’s jaw.

The sound makes you feel sick.

You’re pleading now, terror clawing at your throat as you do so; your words slur together. “Leave, sneak out, and–and go through the front door and hide. Get help, okay? Just, go and find someone while Steve and I handle this–”

The sound of glass breaking against Steve’s head alerts you that your time is up.

Billy hadn't been fighting back before. But now? He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

As Steve stumbles back in pain, you try pleading with the kids again. You don’t want them to see any more of this, of what might be about to happen. This isn’t just some fight between two teen boys. You know Billy better than that.

He’s out for fucking blood.

“Dustin, take everyone outside now!”

“We can’t just leave you!” Mike shouts and the others all nod.

You want to cry. “We don’t have time for this, just–”

“Shit!” Dustin knocks against you as he dodges a punch meant for Steve.

Steve crashes into the Byers’ bookshelf and you’re practically shoving the kids out of the door so that you can go and help, but they refuse to leave you and Steve behind.

Billy has Steve by his jacket. “No one tells me what to do.”

With a sickening thud, he bashes his head into Steve’s and sends him flying to the ground.

“Steve!” There’s blood pooling from his head and you’re gripped by fear so intense that you’re afraid you’ll pass out any second.

Billy is relentless, now standing over Steve as he lands punch after punch. Every time his fists slam against Steve’s face, you feel them land against yours as well. Billy’s screaming like a fucking maniac and none of the kids are listening to you and Steve is getting bloodier by the second.

You’re torn.

Dustin and the kids are staring at you, eyes wide with fear, and the front door is open; you could take the kids and run, but Steve is lying motionless on the ground.

It’s either him or the kids.

And yet it’s the easiest decision you’ve made all night.

“Get off of him!” You throw yourself onto Billy’s back for the second time tonight.

You yank at his hair and try to scratch his face, but within seconds Billy throws you over his shoulder. “You demented bitch.”

Your head catches on the edge of a coffee table and you land with a thud on the ground. Almost immediately you feel blood drip from your eyebrow and you groan. Fuck. Definitely another concussion, but when you look over at Steve, he looks worse than you feel, and you force yourself to get up.

Billy watches as you pathetically try to stand, and he laughs with cruelty. “What, want some more, sweetheart?”

More blood drips down your face and you feel the scratches on your rib cage re-open. Every bone in your body aches, but you pull out your switchblade and extend its knives. Your fingers skim over the engraving on its handle, reminding you to use the weapon with love.

“This is your last chance.” You clutch at your side, hoping you look more intimidating than you feel. “Leave my family alone.”

Billy sees your knives and laughs at you. “Am I expected to believe that you’d actually hurt me?”

Your grip tightens around your switchblade. No one ever believes that you could be so cruel, so vicious. Billy is looking at you as if you’re some pathetic little girl, as if you haven’t killed Demodogs and Demogorgons. He’s looking at you as if you aren’t the sole reason everyone you know and love is alive.

You were once told to use the switchblade with love, that there was never any room for love when it came to violence.

Now, as the kids are screaming at you to run and the pool of blood around Steve continues to grow, the onslaught of love that is always within you overtakes the fear.

“I warned you.” With one quick movement, you swat at Billy and cut deeply into his shoulder.

He lets out an enraged scream and instinctively his fist goes flying. Pain erupts in your left eye and you know that you’ll have the worst time ever trying to explain to your mom later how you got a black eye.

“Fuck!” You groan, dodging every other punch that Billy throws your way as he starts to approach you. With one eye quickly swelling up and the other blinded by blood, you do your best to stumble away from Billy, but it’s no use.

Your foot catches on the carpet and almost as quickly as you fall, Billy is right there to wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze. You inhale sharply and panic overtakes you as you claw at his hands, drawing blood from him as well, but his fingers only tighten.

“Y/N!” Dustin’s vocal chords strain from how loud he screams your name.

Billy seems to get a kick out of hearing your brother plead for your life, and he squeezes even tighter as you flail. “Not so tough now, are you?”

You struggle to free yourself, to do anything, but you can’t.

For the first time since Will went missing, you truly believe that you’re about to die.

Steve is practically dead on the ground below you, he’s bleeding so much from his head that you’re terrified he’ll never wake up, and the kids are defenseless as they scream with tears in their eyes.

Your baby brother is about to watch you die.

Spots begin to form in your vision and it’s getting harder and harder to move your limbs. To make them do as you command.

You know it’s your brain shutting down from the lack of oxygen.

I hope Jonathan doesn’t blame himself.

Your world fades to black.

Billy screams.

And you feel your body drop to the ground.

–

The first time you wake up, it’s to Dustin huffing as he tugs at your arm. “God, you’re heavier than you look.”

You promptly pass back out.

The second time, it’s dark outside and you register that you’re cold, but your eyes sting and you’re out again.

You wake up a few more times, always in a daze, and never more for a few seconds at a time, before the feeling that you’re moving wakes you up for good.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dark, your left eye barely even opens, and the pounding in your head is blinding in itself. Blinking a few times, you look down and finally notice that Steve is sprawled on your lap. You’re in the backseat of someone’s car.

Your head is resting against someone’s shoulder. When you try to lift it to see who it is, you feel someone gently guide your head back down. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t move too fast, alright? Don’t want you yacking on us.”

“Dustin?” You immediately regret trying to speak. Your voice comes out hoarse and raw and the pain is so intense that it only makes your head pound more.

“Right here, sis. Try not to speak, you sound like a frog.”

You try to sit up again, forgetting that Steve is sprawled on top of you, and your movements cause him to wake up. When his eyes manage to blink open, he tilts his head at you and mumbles, “Nancy?”

“Wha–” Again your voice cracks and you feel so delirious. Are you Nancy?

Steve attempts to wipe away the blood on his face but Dustin stops him with a gentle chiding. “No, don’t touch it.”

Steve brings a shaky hand up to your face and carefully rests it against your cheek. “You’re… You’re bleeding.”

Dustin puts the hand down. “Hey, buddy. Y/N is bleeding, good job. You’re bleeding, too. It’s okay though, you put up a good fight. I mean, he kicked your ass but you put up a good fight.”

Your brother’s words ring in your ears. He’s saying so much and you’re trying to swallow down the vomit that threatens to spill out.

“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai.” A voice rings out, one different from Dustin’s.

Was that Lucas?

“What’s going on?” Steve slurs, trying to process everything happening. He blearily looks back up at you. “Who’s driving?”

“Not me,” you manage to croak out.

A beat of silence passes.

Then, at the same time, you and Steve realize: Max is the one driving.

You’re more awake now and you try to say more, but your throat has swollen shut from speaking and it feels like it’s on fire.

Thankfully, Steve is here to say everything you can’t. “Oh my god!”

“Just relax, she’s driven before.” Dustin reassures, slapping your hand away when you try to reach over to the driver’s side.

“Yeah, in a parking lot.” Mike says, and you notice he’s also here now.

“That counts.”

You want to scream at Max to pull over and demand the keys from her, but your bruised throat prevents you while your bleeding rib cage traps you in. While you can’t say anything, all Steve can say is, “Oh my god.”

“They were gonna leave you guys behind–”

“Oh my god.”

“But I promised that you’d be cool, okay?” Again Dustin slaps your hand away and all but shoves his leg over you so that you remain seated.

Max then presses down on the gas pedal and the car increases its speed, which only makes the entire situation worse.

Steve, rightfully, freaks out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s going on? Stop the car, slow down!”

You twist in your seat and blindly grab at Steve’s hand, both thanking him for voicing all that you can’t and also to try and prevent the poor boy from passing out again.

“I told you he’d freak out! At least Y/N shut up!” Mike shouts over at Dustin.

While you’re flattered that you’re officially cooler than Steve in Mike’s eyes, if you had a functioning throat right now, you’d be letting out some very choice words.

“Stop the car!” Steve screams again, but the little rainbow bandaids on his cheek take away from his commanding nature.

You hope that Dustin at least chose some pretty bandaids for your face.

“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Again, Max doesn’t at all help the situation at hand.

“Wait, that’s Mount Sinai. Make a left!” Lucas points to where Max needs to go and you wonder why they trusted the girl, who just moved to Hawkins a week ago, to know where to go.

“What?”

“Make a left!” Lucas screams, and Max quickly yanks the car to the left.

You, Steve, and the kids all scream as she hits what you hope is a mailbox. As the car jerks, you topple onto Steve and let out a painful, weird mix of a croak and shriek as the car continues to turn. Dustin tries to steady himself against you as he screams and Steve fully grabs your waist and uses you to shield himself from danger.

What a hero.

Then, you almost go flying out of the windshield as Max suddenly stops the car.

“Hello!” Steve exclaims, gripping you tightly still.

Dustin giggles. “Whoa!”

“Incredible,” Mike breathes out.

Meanwhile, you think your heart fell out of your ass about five blocks ago.

“I told you. Zoomer.” Max smirks with pride.

“She terrifies me,” you whisper, and Steve nods in agreement.

The kids begin getting out of the car and seem to have some unspoken plan being set into motion. Dustin pats your shoulder before leaving you behind with Steve as the others go towards the trunk.

Not knowing what the fuck is happening, you kick Steve so that he falls off of you and onto the grass so that you can follow after your brother. When you get out the car, you march over towards where all the kids are standing and silently demand an explanation.

Mike notices you first. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

You refrain from shoving his face in the mud and point towards the goggles he’s holding. He sighs and hands it to you while Dustin ties a bandana around your neck and Max grabs a gallon of gasoline.

Seems like they’re sticking to the plan from earlier, then.

When Steve realizes this, as he is gripping onto the car for dear life, he whines. “Oh, no. Guys.”

Everyone ignores him and he continues to try to stop what’s happening. You hobble over to him, a new wave of nausea and pain washing over you, and lean against him helplessly. There’s no use trying to explain to him that the party won’t listen. For now, you simply relish in his presence and enjoy how he feels against you.

“We are not going down there right now!” Steve, though gentle to not jostle you around too much, waves his hands in the air as he screams at Max. “I made myself clear. There is no chance we’re going to that hole, alright?”

Similar to last year, Steve begins to spiral in his fear. He wraps his arms around you and places you against the car before he runs over to Dustin and throws that backpack that’s in the kid’s hands. “This is not happening!”

You slowly walk over and grab the thrown backpack, hoping that Dustin can reason with the teen.

“Steve, you’re upset. I get it, but the bottom line is that a party member requires assistance and it is our duty to provide that assistance.” When you join Dustin’s side, he helps you put the goggles on and brings your bandana up over your mouth. “Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So keep us safe.”

He hands Steve the backpack you retrieved.

Steve looks between you and your brother. You both look absolutely ridiculous in your get up, and he knows he has no other choice but to agree. His eyes meet yours and he silently asks if you’re sure about this, he will always look to you for the answers.

You nod, hoping that the small head shift is conveying what you physically cannot say.

I’m here, the kids need us, and I need you with me.

Steve hears it, sighs, and grabs the backpack from your hands.

“Well, let’s get going.” He motions for you and Dustin to lead the way.

–

“I got you,” Steve’s voice is soft as his hands graze your waist. He’s standing below you, already having jumped into the tunnels so that he can help you climb down the rope safely. You’re not sure if it’s his touch, or the way his voice drips with promises to protect you, or the simple fact that you’re bleeding and bruised that makes your body weak.

“Drop me and die.” Your knuckles are white as they clutch the rope, your body shaking with exhaustion as you try to ease your way down without further injuring your ribs.

Steve laughs and tightens his grip on your waist, steadying you as you finally inch the rest of the way down and land with a gentle thud onto the ground. “Like I’d ever dream of letting you go.”

This time, you know it’s his words that cause you to shiver, not the exhaustion and pain.

“Ahem.”

Turning around, you see Dustin glaring at you and Steve while Lucas is stifling laughs. You roll your eyes at them and step away so that you aren’t standing so close to Steve, and he seems to think the same and distances himself as well.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathes out, now finally examining the tunnels.

It takes your breath away as well. The tunnels are terrifying, but oddly kind of cool. There’s a dim light within them, almost ghostly, and yet it’s beautiful in a way that you can’t quite describe. Small particles float through the air, and you reach your hand out to feel them against your skin. It tickles, akin to snowflakes, and the reminder makes you yearn for winter again.

Mike’s flashlight distracts you as he shines it towards a random section of the tunnel. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s this way.”

“You’re pretty sure, or you’re certain?” Dustin asks, doubtful.

“I’m 100% sure, just follow me and you’ll know.”

As soon as Mike’s declaration of leading leaves his lips, you and Steve share and look and immediately stumble towards the boy.

Like hell you’re letting him lead. He’s a child, and he’s also incredibly horrible at navigating. Last time you let him guide the way, you ended up finding El in the middle of the woods.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve flashes his light at Mike. “I don’t think so.”

“What?”

“Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” Steve takes the map from Mike’s hands and then looks over at you. “I guide, you take the rear?”

You nod. “Good luck.”

Steve smiles, his sarcastic bravado now gone, before he suddenly clears his throat once more and shouts. “From here on out, I’m leading the way while Y/N makes sure none of you idiots get lost. Come on.”

The kids groan and roll their eyes at him, but they fall into line and do as they’re told.

Dustin walks in front of you and offers you his hand. He knows the uneven terrain will only increase the chances of your ankle acting up. “How’s the ankle?”

“Hurts,” you rasp, accepting his hand as you hobble along. He hums and helps you navigate, the goggles covering his nose makes him sound nasally. “Did I put up a good fight at least?”

Your throat strains to get all the words out, but Dustin seems to understand what you’ve said and laughs. “Yeah, you did a much better job than Steve–What the hell?”

Dustin stops walking and suddenly looks up. Unsure what he’s seen, you look up as well and gasp. Above you rests a giant flower-bud looking thing, except it’s pulsing in a very concerning and gross way and is the size of a car. When it starts to expand even larger, you realize before your brother does what it’s about to do; you tug at his hand and try to run away, but Dustin doesn’t move.

Then, in one grand blow, the bud explodes and releases what you can only imagine are pollen spores, and they spray all over Dustin. “Shit!” He falls to the ground, screaming and rolling around as if he’s just been shot, and all you can do is stand there and silently wait for him to calm down enough for you to talk to him. “Help! Y/N, help!”

You motion to your throat, but Dustin gags and scrambles to stand up before promptly falling back down again in his haste.

Steve and the others have now joined and everyone is crowding over your brother with worry. “Dustin? What happened?”

“Pollen.” You croak, and Steve looks even more confused now.

“It’s in my mouth!” Dustin spits onto the ground and coughs, wheezing every few breaths. “Some of it got on my mouth. Shit!”

Mike points his flashlight at you. “Any more useful insight from Kermit the frog?”

You glare at him, although the nickname is funny and you hate that it’s clever. You clear your throat, cringe at the sting it sends down your body, and respond, “Rose-bud thing. Exploded. He’s fine.”

Everyone tilts their head at you, not at all understanding what you’re trying to say, and you groan. It’s incredibly frustrating that Billy left you unable to say a goddamn thing without immeasurable pain. You honestly would’ve preferred that he stab you or something, because your intelligence and wit are so crucial to who you are as a person.

Plus the whole Kermit the frog thing kind of sucks, regardless of how funny it will be later.

“I’m fine.” Dustin gasps out. “As Y/N said, a rose-bud thing sprayed me.”

“You guys serious?” Max shakes her head, at a loss for why she’s even here.

“Very funny, man.” Steve looks at you and teases, “And Y/N, I expected more from you.”

You give him the finger. “Dustin, not me.”

“Mhm,” he’s starting to walk away again, resuming his leader position through the tunnels, but he sends you a wink. “C’mon, Hendersons.”

The rest of the kids follow after him while you help Dustin up and wipe him off. He’s a mess, and he’s clearly still frightened, but he seems reassured by your presence and begins to calm down. When he’s ready, you and Dustin follow.

The tunnels are long, windy, and incredibly disturbing to be in. You can’t believe that something this intricate and vast has been laying underneath Hawkins for god knows how long. The ground beneath your feet is squishy and it takes both Dustin’s hand and immense concentration to not trip.

Steve leads, his flashlight serving as a beacon to focus on despite the pounding in your head. The bandana tied over your nose only makes the ringing in your ears worse, but you’ll leave inhaling mysterious Upside Down particles to your brother.

After a few minutes of walking, you’re starting to fear that the poorly drawn map from Mike really is just a poorly drawn map. Then, Steve stops. “Alright, Wheeler. I think we found your hub.”

You flick your flashlight around and your eyes widen. It’s huge. In the center lies a mound of what you hope is just mud, but you see a bone or two stick out from it and look away. To your left, there’s easily five or six more tunnels, each varying in width and height, and to your right is the same.

Seeing how vast the tunnel system is, you’re thankful for Mike’s genius little brain.

“Let’s drench it!” Except the vigor in his voice frightens you and you consider that he may be the world’s next mad scientist.

However, a plan is a plan and you’ve already made it this far, so you set to work on spraying the area with gasoline. Between you, Steve, and the kids, within minutes you’ve created the world’s most flammable labyrinth.

When you’re done, Steve guides the kids back towards the exit and you make sure everyone’s behind the two of you. He kneels, flicks out his lighter, and turns to everyone. “Alright, you guys ready?”

“Ready,” Max and Lucas say.

Dustin tightens his hand around yours, preparing to help you run as fast as you can with your ankle. “Light her up.”

Steve flicks his lighter open. “I am in such deep shit.”

“Together.” You nudge him with your shoe, and even though his face is hidden, you know he smiles.

He takes a deep breath, winds his arm back, and flings the lighter into the center of the hub.

Immediately everything bursts into flames. In the blaze, the strange roots that had been lying dormant on the ground now come to life as they flail against the heat. They twist and whip around, writhing in pain. The tunnels themselves almost seem to come to life as it writhes in pain.

“Go, go, go!” Steve yells, pushing everyone back to start running.

You stay behind with him, making sure all the kids have started to run before you finally let Dustin tug you along as well. The boy is screaming, hopping and dodging roots as best as he can while squealing, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

Steve takes the lead now, having somehow memorized the way out. “Let’s go!”

You’re disoriented. Dustin’s hand is gripping yours so harshly and it’s taking everything within you to keep up, but your ankle throbs and your left eye has only continued to swell from the punch earlier. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to follow along, and in your disorientation you lose track of Mike.

When he falls, everything within you snaps back into focus. You tear your hand from Dustin’s and you’re at Mike’s side in a heartbeat, but already the roots have started to wrap around his leg; he screams. “Help! Y/N, help me!”

Your hands shake as you reach for your switchblade, adrenaline runs through you so violently that you feel lightheaded. Mike’s screams are the only thing keeping you grounded right now. As he panics, you roughly grab his shirt and force him back before you start to hack at the root with your knives.

“Pull him back!” Steve instructs the kids, who have now joined. “Y/N, watch out!”

You have just enough time to cut through one root before dodging Steve’s bat as he hits at the other. It takes a few swings, but with one final blow, you and the kids are able to pull Mike free and help him stand back up.

“You good?” Lucas pants, patting MIke’s shoulders for any injuries while Dustin asks, “You okay?”

You pull Mike into you and quickly hug him, damning whatever time constraint you currently have against you. Your hands are still shaking, which Mike feels, and he gives you a quick pat before pulling away. “Glad you care, but–”

“We gotta go!” Steve steps between you two, bat still in hand, when a growl erupts from behind him.

Dustin shoves everyone behind him before you can stop him. He’s recognized the growl before you have. “Dart.”

The Demodog growls again. He’s bigger than ever before, now practically fully grown. His growth distracts you long enough to miss Dustin slowly starting to approach him. When you do, you immediately try to stop him.

“Dustin–” Fear overtakes you.

“Steve, hold her back.” He orders. “Just trust me, okay?”

Steve’s arms wrap around you and you try to fight back. “No–”

“Y/N,” he whispers into your ear, keeping an eye on your brother as well. “If you freak out now, Dustin will get hurt.”

He’s right, you know he’s right, but your brother is only a foot away from Dart now and he’s now smaller than the creature. One wrong move, and he’s dead.

Dustin kneels in front of Dart and you feel your heart drop. You don’t dare breathe as he takes off his goggles and mask and leans in closer to the creature. “Hey, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin.”

Dart slowly inches forward as Dustin continues to talk. “You remember me? Will you let us pass?”

This time, Dart’s entire mouth opens as he snarls at Dustin.

Again you struggle in Steve’s arms, but he only tightens his hold on you as you watch your baby brother, terrified, face off against the Demodog.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Dustin lowers his voice, unwavering against Dart’s malice. “I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchy thing to do. I blame Y/N, she’s always the one who makes me do the right thing.”

The little shit has you scared out of your fucking mind, and yet he has the nerve to somehow make this your fault.

If he gets out of this alive, you’re never, ever letting him go again.

Dustin reaches into his backpack, eyes never leaving Dart. “You hungry?

“He’s insane,” Lucas whispers in awe. Both you and Steve tell him to shut up, scared that any noise will cause Dart to attack.

“I’ve got our favorite.” Dustin waves the candy in front of Dart’s face. “See? Nougat.”

As soon as the Demodog sees the candy bar, his demeanor shifts and he happily approaches Dustin. Within seconds, your brother has managed to re-tame his weird Upside Down pet, and for a brief second you feel bad that Dustin can’t keep him.

“Look at that. Yummy!” He places the candy on the ground as a peace offering and he starts to motion behind him, waving for you and everyone else to start moving. “Eat up, buddy.”

Steve guides Lucas, Max, and Mike past Dart and through the tunnel that was previously blocked by him, but you stay behind. Your knives are drawn; you’re not leaving your brother’s side.

“There’s plenty,” Dustin coos to the creature, placing down one last candy bar before standing up. When he sees that you’re still there, he grabs your hand and starts to walk away with you. Feeling his hand, warm and alive against yours, is enough to calm you down enough to follow. Before the two of you leave, however, Dustin turns around one last time to look at Dart, a sad smile on his face. “Goodbye, buddy.”

Dart doesn’t show any reaction, too busy devouring the candy he’s been given, and you gently tug Dustin along to safety, albeit with some guilt. He really loved that little lizard thing.

As soon as the two of you are out of danger, you pull Dustin into a bone crushing hug. “You’re stupid.”

“Stupid brave,” he mumbles against you, though his arms are tight against your waist. He had been scared, too.

You snort and pull your bandana down so you can kiss the top of Dustin’s head. “Just stupid.”

“Guys, we gotta go.” Steve whispers, feeling bad for interrupting your moment with the kid. He can still feel the way your body shook in his arms, how he could hear your terrified heartbeat as he held you back. He felt horrible for doing it, but he promised Nancy he’d keep the kids safe, and Steve knows that she also wanted him to protect you, too.

At Steve’s urgent whisper, you reluctantly nod and pull away from Dustin. With one last shoulder squeeze, you pat his back and tug at his hand to start running. As you run, the ground trembles beneath your feet. You’re the first one to fall, Max and Lucas not far behind. “Fuck!”

Steve has your hand within his in seconds and he gently pulls you up. His face is obscured from the goggles and banana, yet you can see the concern when he looks at you. When he stands you back up, he pulls you close and whispers, “You okay?”

You nod, about to tell him to keep running, when you hear the first screech of the Demodogs.

“What was that?” Max inches towards your side, now long familiar with what the screeches mean.

As if almost in response to the girl, more screeches follow as they echo through the tunnels. Only this time, there’s more of them; more than you’d even want to imagine. The hair on your arms stands up as the screeching continues. You know that if you don’t run now, none of you will stand a chance.

“They’re coming.” Mike realizes. “Run! Run, let’s go!”

You snatch Dustin’s hand and practically throw the kid forward with how harshly you begin running. Lucas and Max run past, while Mike follows after Steve. Your footsteps fall harshly against the tunnel’s earthy ground and it takes everything within you to keep going. When you round the corner and see the rope, you almost sob with relief.

“Kids first!” You shout, damning whatever further damage it’ll do to your vocal chords.

Steve understands immediately and kneels beneath the rope to give the kids a boost up while you hold the rope taught and help lift them. Max is the first up, both you and Steve more so throwing her rather than helping her.

“C’mon!” Steve encourages her, and with one final shove from you, she makes it over the edge and is safe.

Everything happens so fast, it’s a blur as you help Lucas start to climb out, then Mike, and as you’re hauling Dustin up next, you hear the Demodogs drawing near.

“Oh, shit!” Steve hears them as soon as you do and he grabs for his bat and starts to place himself in front of you and Dustin, but you stop him.

“No!” You yank him back and then grab your brother, shoving him underneath the rope. The shadows of the Demodogs cast against the wall, you know you only have seconds before they’re here. “Throw him up!”

Dustin realizes what you’re about to do. “Y/N, no–”

But Steve already has a grip on him. “You’re going home.”

“No!” Dustin screams and tries to stay behind, wriggling and thrashing, but with Steve’s help, you’re able to lift him to safety before the first Demodog appears. Dustin, now safely above ground, sees this too. His heart stops. “Y/N!”

“Steve! Y/N! Climb up!” The kids begin to shout now, urging you and the teen to get out of the tunnels, fear alive in their voices.

You look up at them, see their faces alive with youth, and then turn to Steve. He seems to be thinking the same thing as you. You’ve both run out of time. He nods, you do as well, and together you’ve accepted your fate. Steve draws his bat as you raise your knives.

“Y/N!” Dustin’s voice rings through clearer than the other’s, the despair evident. You close your eyes for a second, wishing that there was more you could’ve done, but at least he’s safe.

Jonathan will take care of him, Nancy will, too.

He won’t be alone, and you have Steve with you, who is holding your hand as if it contains all the secrets of the world.

It’ll be okay.

You open your eyes.

The Demodogs, miraculously, start to run right past you and Steve. They weave between you two, not at all paying any attention. You stand as still as possible, not wanting to wake them from whatever trance they seem to be in.

However, one particularly large Demodog crashes against your leg and sends you into Steve’s side, who wraps his arms around you with a fierce protectiveness. You duck your head down, unaware just how desperately you’d been craving his presence, and he buries you further against him as the monsters continue to run.

The two of you cower, curling into one another, steadying the other, waiting for something to happen. Steve has his feet firmly planted and stands his ground as more monsters run past, and without him you would’ve fallen minutes ago, trampled by the creatures.

When you can’t hear any more Demodogs, you slowly lift your head from Steve’s chest and look around.

They’re gone. Each and every one of them has left.

You’re still in Steve’s arms, your chests are pressed tightly together and you’ve never been this close to him before. When you look up at him, you can feel his breath against your skin. There’s an odd look in his eyes, he’s studying your face as if seeing it for the first time, and his gaze makes something deep within you stir.

“Thank you,” you whisper, needing to say something. He’s once again saved your life, and your eyes can’t seem to leave his.

His fingers dig into your side, it’s the only way he can respond. The sensation causes you to shiver and your eyes slowly drift down to his lips. They’re a lovely shade of pink, flush and full. You wonder what they’d taste like, if he’s wondered the same about you.

Steve stares down at you and feels every breath you take, the rise and fall of your chest matching his. The two of you stand like this for a moment, hearts beating together as you cling to one another, until Dustin clears his throat.

“Ahem,” he draws your attention. “There are kids here, ya know.”

Lucas, Max, and Mike all snicker when you frantically pull away from Steve in embarrassment. Both of your faces are red, the air between you still hangs with something you’re not quite sure how to name.

“We’re coming.” Steve mumbles to your brother before turning to you. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath and nod, your nerves still shaky from being so close to him prior. When you’re ready, you grab onto the rope and feel Steve’s always gentle hands grip your waist. You’re slow climbing up, being the most injured out of everyone, but he’s patient with you and murmurs encouragement as you climb.

Once you’re safely up, you help the kids with Steve. The moment his feet touch solid land, he lets out a low whistle and claps his hands. “Well, I’d say that went well–”

Suddenly, Billy’s headlights begin to shine obnoxiously bright. The light increases in its intensity, glowing brighter and brighter, so much so that you and everyone else have to shield your eyes. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the lights shut off.

It’s quiet. No one says anything, unsure of what’s just happened, but you know.

“El,” you whisper, somehow knowing it’s her. Mike nods, understanding as well.

She did it.

She closed the gate.

You pull the kids into you, dragging them all in your arms in a giant hug. All you feel right now is disbelief. The plan worked. You’re all somehow still alive.

Steve stands behind you, his chest firm against your back, and you allow yourself to gently lean against him. To accept all that he’s silently providing you; there’s no point in fighting it any more. He’s here, offering you anything you need from him, and you’re exhausted from pretending that you don’t see it.

After a few moments of silence, you finally release the kids and nudge them towards the car.

It’s time to go home.

–

“So what exactly did you guys do with Billy?” Steve’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat, waves of exhaustion crashing upon you. From the rearview mirror, Steve sees Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all turn to Max slowly. He frowns. “Why are you all looking at her?”

Max shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “I handled it.”

“She sedated him and we left him on the floor at Will’s.” Dustin fills in the information that Max opted to omit, which she elbows him for.

Steve blinks, turns to you, and asks, “You heard that too, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool.”

When you get to Jonathan’s, Billy is sitting hunched over on the porch, waiting. He looks rough, his eyes bleary and his hair matted. When you see him, you feel your throat constrict in pain and a sense of panic builds within you. You look towards Steve, see his bruised cheek, then notice the way Max squirms in the backseat being near Billy, and the panic is replaced with anger.

He’s caused enough pain and turmoil to those you love.

Steve parks the car and turns in his seat so that he’s facing everyone. “Alright, we all see that Billy is awake, so you guys stay here while I go and–”

“We.” You correct, swallowing down the pain you feel.

Steve inhales and looks as if he wants to argue, but he just shakes his head and continues. “Okay, we go and talk to the guy.”

“I want to come.” Max says, though she still refuses to look in Billy’s direction.

You rest a hand on her leg. You understand what she’s asking for, to handle her brother herself, take her life into her own hands. Max is a brave kid, she’s shown you that much tonight, and while you trust her to make the right decision, you’re still hesitant. “Are you sure?”

She thinks for a second before nodding. Her eyes harden and she juts her jaw out. She’s made up her mind, and you get a kick out of seeing the fire within her. Max Mayfield is an incredible young girl, and you’re honored to know that she trusts you. “I’m sure.”

“Then let’s go.”

You, Steve, and Max walk side by side towards Billy, though you make sure to place the girl slightly behind you in case her brother tries anything.

When Billy notices you approach, he lifts his head up and waves lazily at the three of you. “Back already?” His words slur together and his eyes are glossy; the sedative must still be wearing off.

Max steps forward. “Take me home.”

Billy eyes her, looks between you and Steve, and then sighs. “Fine. Any other demands?”

The girl shakes her head. “I’ll wait in the car.”

And then she’s gone, leaving you and Steve alone with Billy.

He eyes you, sees the bruises on your neck, and a languid smile drawls across his face. “Seems I left a mark, sweetheart.”

Steve steps forward, but you put your hand out and stop him. You appreciate him, you do, but this is something you have to do yourself. You swallow again, feeling the tender flesh within your throat constrict, and try to make your words come out as neutral as possible. “Seems I did, too.”

Billy looks down at his shoulder, the wound from your knife is still bleeding. “So you did.”

Lucas and the other boys stand off to the side now, having left the car alone for Max. When Billy notices them staring, he sighs and wipes his hands off on his jeans and slowly gets up. “Well, my bitch of a sister awaits.”

As Billy leaves, Mike runs up the steps and unlocks the front door. “Y/N, think you could make those cookies again? I’m starving.”

You glare at him and Steve laughs. “I’m not sure she can even walk up the steps, dude.”

“Yeah, look at her.” Dustin waves his hands in front of you. “She looks like a zombie.”

Lucas makes zombie sounds and pretends to eat Dustin’s brains before Mike joins in. The three of them chase each other into the house, screaming “brains” and “die” as they mess around, leaving you and Steve alone outside.

He steps in front of you, his back towards you and he crouches down. “Care for a ride?”

You want to argue, but it’s becoming harder and harder to keep your eyes open. It’d be a miracle if you even manage up the first step on the porch. Hesitantly, you place your hands on Steve’s shoulders and jump onto his back.

“Atta girl,” he laughs, standing back up so that he can carry you inside and join the boys. You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle your face as you close your eyes. You’re seconds away from falling asleep. Steve seems to sense this and slows down his footsteps so as to not disturb you.

He navigates the home, remembering where to go from his time here last year. You’re warm against him and Steve’s fingers draw lazy circles onto your ankles. The boys are in the kitchen, scurrying around for any food, and Steve relishes in this small moment with you.

You’re placed down into a soft bed and the smell of Jonathan overwhelms you; you open your eyes and realize that Steve has taken you to the boy’s room. The bed is warm beneath you, the scent soothes your wounds.

“Jonathan’s?” You ask, confused as to why Steve would take you here.

“Figured it’s where you sleep when you’re here.” He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal, before grabbing the blankets and tucking you in. His movements are careful and he makes sure your head is resting on a pillow and that he takes off your shoes.

The gentleness of his touch soothes you. You’ve never let anyone take care of you like this before. You let him play with your hair, wrap the blanket around you so that you won’t get cold, and when he finally seems pleased with his work, he flicks your nose and smiles. “Get some sleep, dork.”

“Everyone is safe?”

His eyes melt. “They are. They’ll be home soon. In the meantime, I’ll rustle up some grub for those heathens outside while you sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

You giggle and grab his hand to bring to your lips. They linger against his knuckles, you inhale and breathe in his scent, and Steve’s breath hitches at the touch. “Thank you,” you whisper against his skin before placing another kiss.

There’s such a lovely buzz within your chest, holding Steve’s hand fills you with this syrupy warmth like honey, and you’ve never felt it before. It drips down your skin and into your bones, healing wounds both old and new with its kisses.

Steve squeezes your hand with his. He feels it, too. You both do.

–

A body slides in next to yours, rousing you from your sleep. A hand wraps around your waist and the fingers, long and lithe and familiar, skim your skin lazily. The sensation almost lulls you back to sleep, you know whose touch this is, whose body lays next to yours.

You open your arms and engulf Jonathan into a hug. His body lays atop of yours, reminiscent of the night a few days ago when he snuck into your room before he left with Nancy. Your body has long since come to anticipate his weight against yours, it’s become accustomed to how he lands upon you.

“What time is it?” You rasp, stroking Jonathan’s hair with your fingers as he breathes steadily against you. You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but the pain in your throat has lessened, your voice is slowly returning to normal.

“Early morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Steve took Dustin home, no one wanted to wake you. Apparently you had a rough night.”

You laugh, then wince at the pain it draws from your throat and ribs. “You could say that.”

Jonathan places another kiss upon your skin, this time against the base of your throat. He litters kisses up and down your neck, his breath tickling as he does so. “I’m sorry,” he says in between each kiss, as if his words will make the bruises fade faster.

Rather than respond, knowing nothing you can say will make him believe that none of this is Jonathan’s fault, you simply hum at his kisses and lean into them. “Will?”

“He’s okay, he’s safe. Mom is with him now.”

You hum again, relishing in the knowledge that Will is okay and that Jonathan is once again here with you. The house is quiet, everyone else asleep, and the two of you lay like this for a while. No more words are said, Jonathan presses kisses against your skin as your fingers interlock through his hair and you run your hand up and down his back.

Somehow, you know this will be the last time you ever have him like this.

Just the two of you, uncrossed in any boundaries. Skin against skin, kisses to wounds and fingers intertwined. You hope that your body never forgets the weight of his. You hope that it will always anticipate his impact, welcoming it after a long day. Jonathan’s touch will soon become ghosts lingering on your skin, and selfishly you never want this moment to end.

Uncrossed boundaries, threads and strings and lines.

They’re here. You can see them now, they almost glow faintly within Jonathan’s room, the same room in which you grew up in.

“Bee?” You whisper, nudging him gently to get his attention. He lifts his head from your neck and looks at you, eyes open and listening. “We have to talk about it.”

The early morning light streams through the curtain and illuminates Jonathan’s face. His eyes are a mixture of browns and reds and ambers and you try to remember what they look like now, before the words are said and nothing will ever be the same again.

“I’m scared,” he admits. You’ve made him into who he is today, with all of his quirks and humor and love. Jonathan doesn’t know who he would be without you, and he’s terrified that he’ll say the wrong thing and lose you forever.

“I know,” you stroke his cheek. “I am, too.”

“I don’t want to–I can’t lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Jonathan Byers.” You’re firm in your words, now grasping at his face with your hands. “We’re connected, remember? String theory, you and me.”

Jonathan has tears in his eyes. “But I slept with Nancy.”

His confession only makes you sigh. “I know, bee.”

“I–I think… I think this time it’ll turn into something more. I… I think I love her, bug.” His voice cracks, terrified of his own words. He recognizes now, far too late, all that he’s missed. “But bug… I know there’s–that there’s some things we should’ve talked about. A long time ago… but I just…”

“I know,” you know everything he’s trying to tell you. There’s no hurt in your voice, only resignation, but you knew this would happen eventually. “We missed our chance a while ago.”

“Did we ever really have a chance?” He asks, thinking back to the day the two of you met. How easily you accepted him into your life, the role you unknowingly assigned to him as your best friend. How, for years, he’d been so in love with you but terrified it’d scare you away.

You play with his fingers, thinking for a moment. “I’d like to think that we did. I think we just… We missed each other, along the way.”

He smiles, bittersweet and somber. “We would’ve been something great, huh?”

“You’re my person,” you tell him, a certain sadness creeping into your voice. It’s the truth. No one will ever know you like he does, no one can unravel you the way he can. The love you have for Jonathan is unyielding, it transcends everything else you’ve ever felt. “Of course we would’ve been something great.”

“And now?”

You bite your lip, unsure. “Now we just… We let go.”

Jonathan tightens his arms and presses himself further against you. “I’m never letting you go, Y/N Henderson.”

You feel tears beginning to form in your eyes, both from grief and acceptance. “You don’t have to, but we have to let go of our claim to one another. You’re Nancy’s, now. It wouldn't be fair otherwise. To anyone.”

“And you’re Steve’s?” He asks, hesitant to bring the boy up. While you watched Jonathan fall in love with Nancy, he’s watched you fall for Steve.

“I think I could really love him,” you admit, breathless. “I think I’ve already started to fall for him.”

Jonathan’s heart twists at the breathlessness in your voice, though he knows he’ll have to get used to this. To no longer being the reason for your bashfulness. It’ll take time, but he knows in the end that it’s for the better. “You deserve to go for it, bug.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he playfully pokes your side. “Nancy fucked up with him, and I fucked up with you. The two of you deserve better than us, and I… I want you to be happy, you know that.”

“I know, but…” you turn to him now, needing him to understand all that you still don’t know how to voice yourself. “Remember our pinky promise from last year?”

Jonathan wiggles his pinky at you, unsure where you’re going with this. “I do.”

“We’ll always stay like this, right? You and me?” You know it’s selfish to ask, to expect everything to stay the same between you, but losing Jonathan would be the one thing you’d never recover from. He’s in your bones, now. He’s grown up alongside you, patched up your wounds as a child and now holds your hands through the nightmares you face together.

It doesn’t matter how you and Jonathan end, whether you’re lovers in this universe or simply the best of friends. Regardless of what’s happened, he’s the most important person in your life. He always will be.

Jonathan presses a kiss upon your forehead, his lips warm. “Always, and I’ll always love you the most, bug.”

“I’ll always love you the most, bee.” The words come easily to you, an exhale after being inhaled so long ago.

The world stills. Then, as slow as the sun rises after a harsh winter’s night, the strings and lines finally settle between you two.

“Let’s go to bed.” Jonathan whispers, wanting to hold onto you for at least a few more hours.

In the late morning hours the two of you will wake up, and it will be the last time you do so in each other’s arms.

–

When Jonathan drops you off at home the next day, your mom freaks when she sees you. Dustin had tried to prepare her, making up some lie about how you’d fallen down at the Byers’ house and that’s why you couldn’t come home for a few days. However, your mom still had a heart attack when you walked through the front door with a split head, black eye, bruised neck, and a bloodied side.

“My baby!” She took you into her arms and immediately set her eyes on Jonathan. “What, did you have a bear in the house or something?”

Jonathan looked over at Dustin with a helpless look on his face and your brother had sighed. He figured he’d have to be the one to take over. “Like I said, mom. Y/N just got really into our campaign and fell. She’s fine, I mean, look at her!”

You did your best to appear very fine and healthy, despite your concussion forming a horrendous headache. You forced a smile on your face, all teeth. “All fine and dandy, mom.”

Claudia Henderson hadn’t bought it.

You were placed under house arrest for two weeks.

During these two weeks, you were only allowed to leave the house to either go to work (somehow Mrs. Waters still hasn’t fired you despite missing three days of work), and go to school. It wasn’t so bad, though. You had needed the rest, and Nancy visited you a few days into your house arrest.

You’re not sure when she officially began her relationship with Jonathan, but the first time she came to see you, she had brought a giant basket full of baked goods and comics she had asked Jonathan about.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Nance.” You had informed the girl when you saw her struggling to carry the basket.

“I stole your boyfriend, it’s the least I could do.” You stared at her, eyes so wide that your black eye almost fully opened, and Nancy had let out a loud laugh. You’d never heard her laugh so openly before, and it was a beautiful sight. “It was a joke, Y/N. It’s okay to laugh.”

“Ha, ha, Wheeler.” You took the basket from her and inspected its contents. There were more comics than you could count and the muffins smelled delicious. “This is a good haul.”

Nancy had smiled, relieved that she’d done something right. She had bugged Jonathan all day yesterday, anxious to do something nice for you because she felt this crippling need to make you like her. He had reassured her a million times that you did already like her, but Nancy has never been the best at making friends, and she knows the history between you and her is tense.

“You really like it?”

“I love it, dude.” You saw the way Nancy’s body relaxed, as if she had been terrified you’d burn the basket in front of her face. It’s only then that you realized why she was there. “You and Jonathan finally seal the deal?”

Nancy blushed, still unused to how well you perceive others. “We did.”

“Took you guys long enough!” You squealed and threw your arms around her, elated for your friends. Sure, it still stung a bit, but Nancy was trying, so you were too. “But can I say just one thing, and then we’ll bury the hatchet for good?”

“Of course, Y/N.” Nancy said, though you felt her body tense underneath your hold. She had been bracing for impact, and it broke your heart to imagine how she was feeling in that moment.

You grabbed her hand and looked her in the eye. “I’m happy for you two, I really am, okay? You know my history with Jonathan, and I’m sure he’s told you everything, but I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say.”

“I’m listening,” she whispered, gripping your hand tightly.

“If anything, and I mean anything, bothers you about my relationship with him, I need you to tell me. Don’t let anything simmer, don’t swallow down any hurt. I need you to know that I will always respect your guys’ relationship, and if you ever feel that I don’t, please tell me.”

Nancy, to your surprise, had laughed. “That’s it? Geesh, Y/N. I was expecting you to threaten me with your knives or something. I understand your connection with Jonathan, I know what I agreed to.” She paused, and then added with a sly smirk, “Besides, I know you wouldn’t cross any boundaries because you’ve spent practically all year pining after Steve.”

“I did not!” You gaped at her, shocked that she would say such a thing, and Nancy laughed so hard that it took both you and her another ten minutes to say anything else. It was lovely, laughing alongside the girl you once held so much resentment over. Now there you were, rib cage aching with glee.

And that’s how Nancy Wheeler became your best friend.

After that, things seemed to settle down during the month that followed the events of Hawkin’s Lab.

While you healed your wounds at home, Jonathan and Nancy came to visit you whenever they could. It was weird, at first, being in the same room as them now that they were together, but within minutes the three of you formed your own dynamic. You and Nancy teased Jonathan while he simply shook his head at the two of you and did whatever you asked.

It was a good dynamic, really.

A week into house arrest, your mom let you finally return to work.

Of course, on your first day back, Steve was standing inside of Bookstrordinary, waiting for you.

Seeing him there, hair messy and smile warm, felt like coming home.

“Back so soon?” You had teased, walking slowly up to him.

His smile widened and he grabbed your hand and tugged you closer, impatient with how long it was taking you to come to him. “Like I could wait any longer.”

“I stack and you sort?”

“Let’s get to work, Henderson.” He winked and spun you around, causing you to giggle, a sound he’d come to adore, and the two of you set off to work.

Steve becomes a regular at Bookstrorindary again, and one day you come home from school to find him sitting at your kitchen table with Dustin and your mom. They were eating an after school snack together, chatting as if they were old friends. Your mom was even blushing as Steve charmed her. It was a disorienting sight, to say the least.

“Is this going to be a thing now?” You’d asked, setting your backpack down to grab your own snack and join.

“I invited him.” Dustin said with a mouth full of apples. “He’s cool, and mom likes him, so. Yeah.”

Your mom pinched Steve’s cheek and giggled. “He’s just so charming!”

Steve sent you a wink, basking in your mother’s praise, and in that moment, seeing him with the two people you loved most in this world, you knew.

It hit you like a warm, soft summer breeze. It swirled around you, kissed your skin the way only the sun can do, and you could almost smell the fresh summer honey that your dad used to buy for your birthday. The feeling was serene, it felt as easy as exhaling.

You were in love with Steve Harrington.

Only this time, the realization made you smile; you accepted it with open arms. You walked over to him and ruffled his hair before sitting next to him at the table. Biting your own apple, you winked at your mom, agreeing with what she had said. “He is indeed very charming.”

Dustin gagged while Steve draped an arm across your chair and stole your apple. “That I am, Y/N.”

Maybe love wasn’t so bad after all.

The following week, both Steve and Nancy asked you to attend Barb’s funeral, and of course you went.

It was a small service, and Jonathan held Nancy’s hand throughout all of it. While it hurt to see her cry, you can’t help but think about how incredible Nancy is. She’s the reason that Barb is even getting a funeral in the first place, having brilliantly exposed Hawkin’s Lab and giving her friend the justice she deserves.

Steve stood next to you, stoic and guilty, and after the service ended you had to pull him aside and remind him that none of it had been his fault. He listened, but you know he hadn’t necessarily heard you.

It’s similar to how you feel with Will, and how Jonathan feels with you, and Nancy with Barb.

You all hold a heavy weight within you, of guilt and shame and despair. There’s nothing that specifically can be done to lessen it. All you can do is allow the ones you love to carry the weight with you, to share it and accept the help that they offer.

Time can’t heal all wounds, you recognize this now, so you do things for those you love and see the good that’s still there, even if it’s hard sometimes.

And that’s what you do.

You start stopping by Hopper’s cabin to see El.

He hated it at first, but when you showed up one day with a box of nail polish and comics, El had been so overjoyed that he simply sighed and let you in.

You teach the girl how to read, having her say words out loud as you paint her nails, and it’s lovely. It’s rare to get the girl all to yourself, so spending time with her is always the favorite part of your day. Plus, she starts to get really into Spider-Man, so you’ve done your job as an avid fan.

As for Will and the boys, you start to make it a point to partake in their DnD campaigns whenever possible. While it’s hard balancing work, school, El, and the party, you don’t regret it for a single second. It’s exhausting, but a good kind of exhaustion. One that leaves your bones aching in a rewarding way at the end of the day.

You’ll never tell Jonathan this, but he had been right a few months ago. You’d been burning yourself out, running away from everything you didn’t want to confront, from your feelings to your crippling worry for the kids. You’re not sure how much you had left in you, looking back now.

You had been drowning for a long, long time.

But as you pick up Dustin and Will from Mike’s, Jonathan by your side as always, your nails painted a messy shade of blue thanks to El, and Steve waiting for you back at your house, you’re finally able to breathe.

–

It somehow takes you the entire day to get Dustin ready for the Snowball.

He’s running around the house, frantically trying to find his bowtie that he’s misplaced, and you’re currently digging through the endless supply of hairspray that Steve dropped off yesterday. There’s so much hair products within the bag that he delivered, and it actually scares you a little.

No way this much chemicals can be good for a kid.

“Did you find the bowtie?” You yell from the bathroom, finally managing to open the bottle of hairspray that Steve specifically told you to use first.

“Yes!” Dustin runs back into the bathroom and throws the piece of fabric at you. “Quick, put it on while I spray my hair!”

You roll your eyes at him but do as he asks, securing his bowtie to his baby blue button shirt. However, as he sprays his hair, he almost blinds you in the process. “Christ, Dustin! That’s practically a weapon.”

He continues to spray. “You’re the one who insisted on helping me get ready.”

“I wanted you to look handsome,” you coo at him, straightening his bowtie one final time before stepping back and admiring your handiwork. “All done, and look at you!”

Dustin sprays even more product into his hair and tries to shove you out of the bathroom, but he secretly preens. “Am I really handsome?”

You admire him and you can’t believe how grown up he is now. He’s grown another three inches since last month and with the way he’s styled his hair, he looks like a teenager. Your heart stings a bit, seeing him no longer look like the little brother you know and love. He’s changing, growing up. “The handsomest.”

He smiles at you. “Thanks, Y/N. Now go get dressed while I finish my hair. Steve will be here any minute!”

You salute him and run to your room. Nancy had asked you to chaperon alongside her at the dance, and you figured it’d be fun watching Dustin and the party failing miserably with prepubescent girls, so you agreed. However, because it somehow took five hours helping your brother get ready, you run around your room in a hurry.

You’ve just finished applying some mascara when the doorbell rings, and your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N, Steve is here!” Your mother calls, a slight glee in her voice. She’s quickly come to adore the boy, something that Steve milks whenever he can. He’s incredibly proud of it, honestly.

You run to the door and open it, Dustin is still spraying his hair to death in the bathroom.

When Steve sees you, he forgets how to speak. You’re dressed in a soft white dress and you’ve pinned the front two pieces of your hair back. You’ve dotted your lips with a berry-red lipstick and your cheeks look more flushed than usual.

You see the blush that immediately forms on Steve’s cheeks and you giggle, suddenly shy. It’s awkward, but a nice awkward between you two. “Hey.”

“H–hi.” His voice squeaks and he clears his throat. “I–I mean, hey. You, uh… You look. Wow. I mean, not wow, but also wow–”

“Dude,” Dustin now joins and looks disappointedly at Steve. “Get it together, man.”

He pats his chest and starts heading towards the car, and you can’t help but snort. “He’s so lovely, isn’t he?”

Steve holds out his arm for you to take, the momentary awkwardness now gone. “The Henderson charm is a fascinating thing.”

During the car ride, the closer Steve gets to the school, the more you see Dustin fidget in the back seat. He had been so excited earlier, but now you notice the doubt in his eyes and the way he keeps patting his hair, unsure.

You tap Steve’s hand to get his attention. When he looks over, you motion towards the backseat and he realizes what you’re trying to tell him. He nods, and the two of you silently agree to give the kid a pep talk once you get to the school.

“Alright, buddy. Here we are.” Steve parks the car and tries to give Dustin a reassuring smile, but your brother looks out the window and exhales nervously. “Remember, once you get in there…”

“Pretend like I don’t care.”

You interrupt. “Okay, no. I thought we abandoned that idea last month.”

“Technically you abandoned it, I didn’t.” Dustin responds, and Steve shrugs his shoulders at you.

“Dustin, I really want you to be yourself, okay?” You turn to face the kid. “What did I tell you last month, huh?”

“That we Hendersons are charming people.” He grumbles.

“Exactly, and I meant that. Use your charm, buddy.”

Dustin isn’t listening, instead he tries to look at himself in the rearview mirror to once again fix his hair. Steve sees this and stops him. “Hey, listen to your sister, alright? You look great, okay?”

“Such a handsome lad.”

Steve puts his hand up to stop you. “Okay, ignore her and listen to me. Now, you’re gonna go in there…”

Dustin nods. “Yeah.”

“Look like a million bucks.”

“Yeah!”

“And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead.”

“Like a lion.”

You cringe. “I’m not at all liking this language use in relation to women.”

Dustin purrs, just to spite you, but now Steve cringes and shakes his head, “Yeah, don’t do that, okay?”

“Okay.” Dustin deflates, but when Steve offers him his hand to shake, his face lights back up and he accepts it.

Steve winks at the kid. “Good luck.”

“You got this!” You shout as Dustin exits the car. He gives you a thumbs up and starts to walk towards the school, leaving just you and Steve alone in the car.

With Dustin gone, a tension creeps within the car. You look over at Steve and he catches your eye, and your stomach flutters. You can’t deny that there’s nothing there, and it’s… it’s nice, honestly.

You don’t feel the same fear you did with Jonathan. You can look at Steve and admire his beauty and all you feel is warmth. His smile doesn’t hurt you, and the way he’s looking at you so unabashedly no longer scares you.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve says, his voice honest and dripping with honey.

You blush, and he wants to kiss the pretty red until it colors his own lips as well. “Thank you.”

There’s more you both want to say, but for now you simply enjoy each other’s presence. It’s too soon, you know this. He’s still in love with Nancy, and you don’t blame him. Instead, you bask in his gaze and he admires how lovely you are. How lovely you always are.

He feels it, too. He knows what you’re thinking, and for once he feels comfortable with where he is. You’re here, next to him, expecting nothing but what you know he’s ready to give you.

You press a kiss to his cheek, and Steve’s heart aches. “Drive home safe, okay?”

As you pull away, he catches your arm and stops you. You look up, confused, and Steve’s gaze softens. He doesn’t know how else to say it, how else to ask you to stay. “Be patient with me, okay?”

You don’t have to ask what he means; you know.

Whatever he needs, you’ll give it to him. You place a hand on his face and stroke his cheek, he leans against the touch and closes his eyes. This is the easiest promise you’ve ever made. “Take all the time you need, I’ll be here.”

The words cause Steve to sigh, you’re too good for him. You’re everything lovely and beautiful and kind, and Steve can’t believe how lucky he is to know you, to have you in his life the way no one else does. That you’ll wait for him, trusting him with your heart, and he can’t believe that you’re real.

“You’re an angel.” He breathes out, feeling everything constrict within his chest when you smile.

“And you’re sweet honey.” You press one last kiss to Steve’s face and get out of the car. No other words are needed.

Steve watches you as you leave, your kiss still burning his face, the same burning warmth he’s come to love about you. He watches as you walk up to Nancy inside the school and she hands you a drink, the two of you laughing. You both look so different standing side by side.

A girl Steve loves and the girl he knows that in time he’ll come to love more than anything else.

He’s already falling for you, he thinks he has been ever since he first saw you all those years ago when you were twelve and he was thirteen. He’s falling for you, but he won’t rush it. It wouldn’t be fair to you, not after everything you’ve been through.

So Steve admires you, he watches the way your hair dances as you laugh and the way the kids around you smile in admiration. He forgets that Nancy is even there, his eyes only on you, and for the first time in a long time, Steve smiles a real smile.

Your kiss on his cheek lingers, and he presses his fingers to it and feels his body warm. You’ll be waiting for him, and that’s more than enough for now.

Take your time, I’ll be here.

And Steve believes you.

[END OF SEASON 2]

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @hsllfirescoops @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector @chervbs @poppet055 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @ladyobscurus @moon-flowerss @estaticheart

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wtlws #m's writing #behold: the nickname reveal #i told yall itd take till the end of season 2 #muahahahaha #also im so sad its done omg

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nico-di-genova · 1 year

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Parts of Blue Beetle I cannot stop thinking about

Jaime’s Gotham U hoodie. I need it. I must buy it immediately. @ DC pls give it to me.

Milagro and Jaime sitting on the roof sharing a drink and just talking. It’s familiar for them, something they’ve probably been doing since they were kids

Milagro drinking too, which feels like SUCH a big brother move on Jaime’s part. Like yeah, sure you can drink, but only where I can keep an eye on you so you don’t do anything stupid.

The way Jaime feels like an adult in some ways and like a little kid still in others. They really nailed the early/mid twenties feeling of being a child trapped in an adults body.

No one pressuring Jaime to get a job and save the house/help his dad. It’s a pressure he’s solely placed upon himself, this sense of responsibility that he’s meant to pull them up and out, even though they never asked anything more from him then to be their Jaime.

The beetle merging scene, horrifying. Looked like something straight out of the exorcist.

When Jaime and Jenny almost kissed, and Jaime was left like half hard and embarrassed. So real of him. It was also another moment that just felt real, even if it was played for laughs.

Milagro during the entire Reyes house attack scene. Like Jesus she had me sobbing so hard. The way she was so visibly scared and crying for her mom, looking at Jaime and practically begging for his help. She was just a scared little kid who wanted her family, who wanted her big brother to come make everything better.

When Rudy was talking about Alberto bringing him over the border when he was ten and Alberto was 19. It’s such a short but emotional scene, and it really adds to the character dynamics. You see Alberto as more than Jaime’s dad, but this kid who also was once scared and overwhelmed by his responsibilities, but still shouldered them because it’s all he could do.

Milagro wearing her dads jacket for the rest of the movie :(. I love her, she deserves the world.

The absolute rage and fear on Jaime’s face as he was forcibly ripped away from his family, unable to do anything, as his father suffered a heart attack right in front of him. The sheer amount of terror he must have felt to realize in that moment that he was powerless and to see his sister sobbing over their father’s body while he couldn’t get to her. Jaime Reyes is a better man than I will ever be, because if I’d gotten my hands on Victoria or Carapax it would have been over for them. Also the way he just kept screaming dad/papa like a little kid calling for their parent after waking up from a nightmare :(. He’s just a kid, he thought he would come home and fix everything and instead he has to watch it all fall apart in front of him.

Jaime and Milagro in general, best siblings. I’d die for them :)

#I don’t think milagro is over 21 and I’m pretty sure she was drinking in that scene #but correct me if I’m wrong!#I’m gonna see the movie again later this week #because there’s just so much I need to see again #blue beetle #jaime reyes #milagro reyes

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mesetacadre · 2 months

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Does socialist theory have any use for classes based on wealth/income? (rich/poor as opposed to bourgeoisie/proletariat)

Short answer: kinda but not really

Long answer: Classes in marxist theory are exclusively defined by the objective relationship of the subject to the property of the means of production and to the organization of labor, in capitalism it being mostly salary work. From these objective and economic relationships spring the classes of the proletariat, the bourgeoisie, the petit-bourgeoisie, the lumpen-proletariat, artisans...

Income, while highly correlated with one's position in class society, is not the defining trait of the subject, but the consequence's of the individual's conditions and specific relationship to their own work. Income itself is just the remuneration for a part of the labor-power that one exerts, or for the value created by others' labor-power that you exploit by virtue of having private ownership of the means of production. In neither of these cases is income the cause of one's class, but a consequence of it.

What a "class" analysis based on income gets you is the inability to actually strike at the core of what organizes class society. For example, the income-based analysis most radical liberals and social-democrats prefer to use (while still choosing to appropriate marxist terminology like "owning class") does not allow them to properly identify the exploitative nature of small businesses, thus, you'll see them rallying against Big Capital while their beloved family-owned small business commits labor law violations on the daily with 11 hour workdays for minimum wage. The income of the petit-bourgeoise is not that great, it's still higher than an average salary worker, but small enough that recessions or the mere existence of concentrated capital is enough to render the small property owner into a worker, a process known as proletariatization. See this really good explanation of what that dynamic means for the political implications of this economic fact.

An income-based analysis would place the small business owner and their 3 employees on the same side with, supposedly, the same interests, because they don't get a lot of money. I don't need to harp on any more to explain why that is nonsense, I hope.

Furthermore, within the working class, there are contrasts in income. There are workers who have a lavish salary, and there are workers who don't even make enough to support their basic needs. The objective fact of their exploitation is the same: they generate value with their labor-power, and sell it to a capitalist for a fraction of what they generate. Exploitation in the marxist sense is not a moral judgement. This is not about whether it's morally wrong or not to extract value from workers. Exploitation creates alienation and a class antagonism that can only ever be resolved one way, which is through the overthrow of the exploiter class by the exploited, history shows that this antagonism is what has propelled it forwards.

It is another question, and one that concerns us less, whether the salary, the price with which a capitalist buys a fraction of the worker's labor-power, is enough for the worker to lead a relatively accommodated life or not. If this was the question, which it is for, say, social-democrats, then the mere reform of capitalism (which, to be clear, is not possible to enact for all workers and all countries) to ensure a decent livelihood under the system of salary work would be enough.

With a lavish income, some might argue, a worker ceases to share the same interests with the rest of the working class who can't afford the first's lifestyle. But what this is omitting is that, in the cases of some workers with a really high salary, it becomes possible for the worker to join the ranks of the bourgeoisie by acquiring capital. Here, top-rated actors and athletes comes to mind. Actors and athletes are paid a salary in exchange for their labor-power, but the highest rated ones generate so much value that the capitalists pay them a really high salary, and then, most of the time, these highly-paid workers acquire some property and become a part of the bourgeoisie. In the US, for example, a bunch of high-rated workers of the entertainment industry such as Oprah, with more than 2,000 acres, have become large landlords in Hawai'i, taking advantage of the colonization of the island chain.

The break in common interests between highly-paid workers and the rest of their class comes from the change in economic class that their income allows for, not the income itself.

There is one instance when income becomes more relevant, and that is in the case of the labor aristocracy. Because of the international division of labor created by and protected by imperialism, the workers of the imperial core, as much as they are still exploited by capitalists and have revolutionary interests, benefit directly or indirectly from the even greater exploitation placed on the workers of the imperial periphery and global south, allowing for a generalized improvement in the quality of life for the imperial core workers.

Two conclusions can be made from this fact:

First, that the social-democratic welfare state depends on the exploitation of vast swaths of the world, and thus, it is not an applicable system in the majority of the world. Second, that the working class of the imperial core can, by the objective fact of the improvement of their material conditions by the spoils of imperialism, can act in the interests of the imperialist bourgeoisie. Take as an example the SAG-AFTRA union, which decidedly supported the imperialist project of Israel after al-Aqsa Flood. This does mean that a greater effort is needed for most workers in the imperial core, the labor aristocracy, to achieve revolutionary-political consciousness. The spontaneous class consciousness that some people insist is enough to be revolutionary, is born of the daily class antagonisms one experiences, and also of the material conditions underlying one's existence, therefore, as we have seen a lot this past year, spontaneous consciousness can include attitudes that favor the bourgeoisie.

And still, even if the labor aristocracy is broadly defined by a higher income, it is still dependent on the relationship to the organization of labor. Even the most desperate and destitute homeless citizen of the imperial core benefits in a lot of ways from the system of imperialism. For example, they don't need to worry about the political instability most imperialized countries suffer, and to put a cruder example, they are never going to get shot by a 22-year-old USamerican soldier doing target practice.

#ask #anon #seriousposting

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cassandraclare · 7 months

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*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.

First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.

TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.

I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.

I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)

I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.

I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.

I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.

(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)

#the wicked powers

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hwaslayer · 22 days

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wildfire (cs) | one.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 4.2k

—warnings: cussing/mature language, this is gonna start off kinda slow but i promise it'll get spicier lol, say hello to the rest of the professors in this fic ouweeee 🤪, some general bioengineering research terms, very vague mentions of mice research work, more of a glimpse into the yunho x san x iseul dynamic

—a/n: i'm also working on wooyoung's mini series so pls check it out! the next update will prob go up soon! ily <33

"Did you figure out your rotation for this quarter?" You walk alongside Jiung as you head to the Harvey Center, where Professor Choi's lab is located. Both you and Jiung had just finished up walking around campus to get your steps in, but to also check out the classrooms for all your upcoming classes this quarter and pick up books at the bookstore. Most of your classes were in familiar buildings, while two were entirely new.

"Yeah, I gotta meet with one more professor then I think I can send off my final decision." You nod. Jiung is holding his bag of books and yours, not wanting you to haul them around campus with how heavy they can get.

"That's good."

"Yeah, hope so." He repeats. "Are you meeting with the other professors this week just to see if you wanna rotate in any of them instead?"

"Mhm. All in one week. I guess it makes it easier on me since I don't have to wait on anyone. I can decide by end of the week."

"Are you seeing them in person?"

"Just Professor Choi and Professor Kim. Everyone else said Zoom." Jiung nods.

"Wow, Professor Kim in person?"

"I heard he really values in person meetings." You chuckle. "Which is nice? Maybe it's cause he's the department chair."

"That, too. He just seems like that kinda person, though. He's super active in all the events."

"Truth."

"Did you like rotating in Professor Bahng's lab last quarter?"

"I did. He was really cool. People in his lab are cool, too. I just.. I don't know? I didn't have a specific project I could focus on. Felt like I'd have trouble fitting myself in there and finding something to work off of. Everyone was great though, don't get me wrong. Just didn't click for me."

"Makes sense. You wanna be happy and feel like you can thrive somewhere."

"Yeah, exactly. Plus, after talking to Sunwoo and Belle, I think my interests lie more in Professor Choi's lab." You look down at the bags before looking at the Harvey Center ahead of you. "You know you don't have to wait for me, Jiung. You can go to the apartment if you want."

"Nah, I'll wait. I don't have shit to do anyway." You swing the front doors open and Jiung instantly plops down on a free chair near the lobby doors. "I'll be here."

"Shit, I just realized I think his office is downstairs in the basement. I don't know if I have access."

"Where's Sunwoo or Belle?" You quickly pull out your phone and try to dial Sunwoo or Belle to help you. Unlucky for you though, none of them answer.

"I guess they aren't here for the day yet. They didn't pick up." You sigh. "Why didn't I think about this early on?!"

"Relax. It's fine! Poke your head around, I'm sure someone is there to let you in." You pucker your lips in dismay, hoping it doesn't cause any issues and make you late for your meeting. You should've asked for assistance in the first place, but it kinda blew over your head when Professor Choi responded quicker than you expected.

"Welp. Let's hope I don't fuck this up already." Jiung pats your head.

"You won't." You wave to him before heading into the elevators, down to the basement level of the building. It's quiet, and you don't see many people walking around despite it being close to 10am. As you approach the door to the basement, you peek into the window to try and catch a glimpse of anyone passing by in the visible hallway. To your luck, the hallway is dead and there doesn't seem to be any moving heads in any of the nearby lab rooms. You let out a sigh and take out your phone, wondering if you should just email Professor Choi to ask for assistance.

No, maybe someone will pass by in the next 5 minutes.

Give it 5 more minutes, then panic and email.

You tippytoe and peek through the window once more, muttering small curses to yourself for being so unprepared with your meeting. Now, he's probably going to think you can't—

"Y/N?" You turn to see Professor Choi behind you with a soft smile on his face. He's dressed in a grey turtleneck, black slacks and boots— large silver square-shaped frames sitting on the bridge of his nose. He has his hands in his pockets, a heavy leather bag slung on his shoulder. You're surprised he even knows it's you; then again, who else would be peeking into the basement at this time?

"Oh my god, hi—sorry." You pause, slightly embarrassed having Professor Choi catch you looking through the door's window the way you were. "I just realized I didn't have basement access so I was trying to see if anyone was around before bothering you."

"All good. Perfect timing, hm?" He taps his badge against the reader and swings the door open. "After you." You give him a curt bow as a thank you, slowly walking into the basement hallway. San trails behind you, and he takes note of the way you're dressed. You're in some wide-leg white jeans, a cream colored vest and some black platform loafers. It's cute, really. He gives you another toothless smile when you stop in your tracks and wait for him to lead the way. Hopefully, he didn't catch your eyes when you quickly skimmed his outfit again— he was tall and he was well-built, it was very obvious with that turtleneck he had on. He smells of a woody cologne, mixed with notes of jasmine and patchouli. It's not overbearing, but it definitely makes its presence known next to you. "How's your day been?" He asks and you just nod.

"It's been alright. I just went to pick up my books at the book store, explored around campus to make sure I knew where my classes were at. There's a few buildings I haven't had class in."

"That's good. Getting prepared for the quarter well I see."

"Trying to, at least." He chuckles as he does an abrupt turn to the right and swings a door open. You follow him into another office space, where desks are lined up amongst each other. You find a few people sitting around, typing away on their desktops. It's too bad Sunwoo or Belle wasn't around. You'd probably feel a bit less nervous seeing their faces before the meeting.

"What's up, Professor Choi!" One of his lab members calls out. San does a quick nod and throws up a wave just as he unlocks his office door and steps inside.

"Come in." He holds the door open for you once again. "Sorry it's a bit messy. I'm all over the place with these progress reports and finalizing class details."

"No worries! Honestly doesn't look messy to me." You look around seeing a stack of papers on his desk. Otherwise, everything is neat. He's got all his awards framed up and lined along the back wall. Books on shelves near his desk. A couch off to the side wall with two small pillows. A small coffee table. A mini fridge. Two chairs for guests at his desk. It's roomy, but not super roomy.

It smells like his cologne.

"Have a seat." He pulls out one of the two chairs directly in front of his desk. You sit and place your bag down on the ground, fixing yourself as Professor Choi sets his bag down and sits at his computer chair. "Gotta apologize again, it's my first meeting of the day so I don't have everything out and ready."

"No need to apologize, I get it." You chuckle and he smiles.

"Your CV was really impressive." He says as he's pulling up said CV. He's looked at it enough times to have a photographic memory of it, which is the first for him. Right away, he can tell you'd work well in his lab. You have a good head on your shoulders, smart. Can contribute a lot. He just knows sometimes.

"Thank you." You smile and it makes San's smile grow bigger.

"So, why do you wanna explore those areas? Tell me a little bit more about your experience with everything. Computational analysis, mice, 2P and opto-stim-neural circuit work. All that good stuff." He sits back a bit, his full attention now on you instead of your CV on the screen. You feel your hands get a 'lil clammy the more his eyes focus on you, your lips feeling a 'lil more dry than usual. Shit, he is attractive.

"Sure!" You quickly shake off the nerves and begin to tell him about your experience and interest in bioengineering. It all started when the field was briefly introduced to you in high school, and your curiosity grew to enormous levels when you found a few schools that had the specific undergrad program available. You've talked to a few seniors about their experiences, like Sunwoo, before solidifying your decision to move forward with the major. You tell him how you took a break after graduation to get some more hands-on experiences through two internships and a full-time job, working on in-vitro mice work, computational analysis and building and maintaining 2P microscopes. Then, you realized you really wanted to get back on track and pursue your graduate studies. You tell him about your rotation in Professor Bahng's lab last quarter and how you enjoyed it, but you were having trouble figuring out how you'd fit in the lab. When you talked to Sunwoo a little more about what he's been up to in Professor Choi's lab, your interest in opto-stim peeked, having been Professor Choi's niche.

It's a nice, easy conversation. You find that Professor Choi isn't as intimidating as you thought. He chimes in with questions every now and then, making it a smooth two-way convo.

"Ah, Professor Bahng? That's my guy right there. Learned lots from him." You chuckle.

"He's brilliant."

"He is, he really, really is." He nods. "But I totally get it, it's good to experience things in order for you to understand what you really want or how to spend your time wisely."

"Exactly." You tilt your head and look at him. "That's pretty much it for me, though. Your work is great. I'm really interested in learning more and diving deep into opto-stim. I know the basics, but haven't gotten a chance to work with it. Sunwoo's project seems to encompass a lot of that, along with the other aspects I've worked with."

"That's right. His project has been on a roll, same thing with Belle's. I can see you working between the both of them, most of your time with Sunwoo, though. I think you'll fit the best with his, and I can see a lot of potential avenues coming out of it. He's been asking for some help, too." He chuckles. "Why don't you talk to Sunwoo and Belle a little more? Then all four of us can meet in the next couple of days to finalize project ideas and details. Should be good to start the rotation afterwards if it all goes smoothly." Your eyes light up.

"Really? I-I mean, yes. I'll do that."

"Mhm. Let me know when you're ready? Just send me an another email."

"Thank you, Professor Choi." He smiles at you.

"You're very welcome. Do you have any other questions?" You look at him, head tilting out of curiosity.

"Um, not for the project. It's something more personal, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Go for it." He leans back again and rests his clasped hands on his lap.

"Why did you pursue this field?" San is having to pause because out of all the times he's met with students, people [besides formal interviews], no one has asked him that question. No one has asked him directly— people like to assume they know him because his name is out there, but not once has anyone asked about his experience.

"Hm." He hums. "It's probably gonna sound a little cliché and everything, so don't judge me." You giggle and shake your head. "It just felt like my calling? Kinda like you." When he smiles, you find yourself captivated by his dimples. They make everything about his smile so captivating and so, so charming. "I think you might know this already, but my dad was a biology professor. He always told me to challenge myself and think outside the box, and I think the early exposure to his career definitely shaped my path. He'd share his knowledge with me and try to ask me tricky questions. Make me think about what's around me, how things can be improved. Better understood. Then, I learned about bioengineering and tried to better understand it. Open new avenues for things that haven't been studied well yet. Just took lots of risks and tried things out. Failed lots of times before getting the hang of things."

"That's amazing. Your parents must be really proud."

"I hope so." He laughs. "Thanks for asking."

"Oh, no. Thank you. I wasn't sure if I overstepped with that question."

"What? No way. You're actually the first to ask and I appreciate that."

"Oh?" Is all you manage to get out, confused as to why he would say that. Has no tried to ask about him or get to know him a little better? Maybe it was just you, but you definitely thought building good, personal connections would bring more advantages than not— first and foremost, bringing comfort and ease, especially to any new environment. Who would wanna work in an awkward, tense setting?

"I mean it." San laughs. "I appreciate it. It's nice when people take a second to view me as a human and not a robot who is constantly churning work."

"Course." The both of you maintain eye contact for a bit and it makes you feel so, so nervous that he's just looking at you. And he kinda is just looking at you. Observing you. He finds himself admiring your look once more; the hair, your smile, your nails. Cute. He knows he shouldn't, but truthfully, he can't really help himself when a beautiful woman is in front of him in general. He is a man, and a man who enjoys eye candy. "Anyway, I know you're probably booked and busy today, so let me get going."

"You're okay. I don't have anything until the next 30 mins, don't feel the need to rush."

"No, it's okay. I should totally let you be." You stand and smile at him as you sling the strap on your shoulder and tuck your bag close. "Thank you again, Professor Choi. I'm excited for what's to come."

"Me too. It'll be great, I know it." He stands, hands in his pockets as he follows you towards the door.

"Thanks." You turn to look at him, and he's not too far from you. "See you soon.. over Zoom?" You assume that since the basics and introductions are out of the way, it'll probably be more convenient for Professor Choi to do a Zoom meeting. Lo and behold, he surprises you with a:

"In person would be nice." He smirks a bit. He does enjoy his in person meetings; they're more productive that way.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna waste your time."

"Never." He shrugs a bit. "I mean it. It's always better to talk in person, anyway."

"I agree." You smile at him once more, hand on his door handle. "See you soon."

"Have a good one, Y/N. Feel free to email me if anything comes up."

"Appreciate it." You give him one last look before you swing the door open and find Sunwoo just about to settle down at his desk.

"Y/N! Professor Choi! Assuming it went well and I'll get the help I've been begging for?" San laughs.

"Yeah. I asked Y/N to talk to you and Belle about potential projects and to email me once she's ready so we can all meet and finalize details."

"Good with me."

"Good with me, too." San gives you both a small, toothless smile before walking back into his office. "So, how'd it really go?"

"Good." You approach Sunwoo's desk. "He's not as intimidating as I thought. Kinda. Really laid back, though."

"Yeah, he's super chill and easy going. Super supportive. You'll enjoy it here." He waves his phone. "Sorry I missed your call earlier."

"I forgot I didn't have access into the basement."

"How'd you get in?"

"Professor Choi saw me peeking through the basement door window." Sunwoo snorts.

"Amazing first impression." You playfully pinch his bicep.

"Hate you." You pout. "I'm nervous."

"For what, dude?" He laughs. "I promise you, it's not that bad at all. As long as you put in the work and do what you need to do, everything will play out fine."

"What if I don't get into the lab post-rotation?"

"Don't say that." Sunwoo smiles. "You'll be good. Promise. You're smart and hardworking."

"We'll see. Maybe you'll realize how much of a pain in the ass I am when we work together."

"True." You glare at him and he laughs. "Kidding. Ready for classes to start soon?"

"No."

"That's the spirit." You chuckle. "Anyway, let me know when you're free this week. We can walk around the lab while we talk about projects. Belle is usually here around the same time I am so I'm sure we can grab her whenever." You nod. At this point, Chris and Yeosang walk into the room, the two in good spirits and engaging in lively conversation right before knocking on San's door.

"Okay. I'll text you later, then. I gotta get back to Jiung, I left him upstairs."

"I saw." He chuckles and salutes just as he diverts his attention to the data on his desktop computer.

"Hi Professor Bahng, Professor Kang." You smile at them in passing and they nod in response.

"Hey Y/N! Nice to see you around these parts." Professor Bahng says with that usual happy tone of his. Professor Kang is a little more shy, but never fails to acknowledge you with a smile or soft 'hello.' Chris presses his ear to the door before laughing and swinging the door open, greeting San as casually as they can before the door shuts.

"Whattup!" Chris plops onto San's couch while Yeosang takes the other end.

"Nothing much. Just finished my meeting with the rotation student. You know her, actually."

"Oh, Y/N? Yeah! She's crazy smart. Think she'll do some good work in your lab." San nods.

"So, what's the plan you wanted to talk about?"

"I need to start planning the symposium for one of the grants. It needs to happen within the next month. Was hoping you can help us, give us a few tips? Maybe do a talk?"

"Where are you planning to do it?"

"Right next door at the Acacia Center, was hoping one of the huge conference rooms would be open."

"Probably the best place to do it because they can cater for the event, too."

"Who else can we recruit to do a talk, though?" Yeosang sits back and lets out a sigh. "Jongho?"

"Try seeing if Namjoon is free, that'll definitely draw some people." They all laugh in unison knowing Namjoon's power. "And make sure you do the whole email blast with flyers everywhere. Let people pass it along."

"Yeah, okay. But, also, don't hate me." Christopher looks at San with an awkward smile. San knows though, he knows very well what he's hinting at.

"We've already talked about this. I don't care."

"I know, but still. You're one of my good friends and I'd hate to put you in an uncomfortable position."

"Well, Yunho is always gonna be there and I don't expect things to change. We're always gonna have to work together despite what happened."

"I don't know how you do it, I'm sorry." Yeosang says, slightly shaking his head as he sinks into the couch a little more.

"I agree. You're strong, man."

"I have no choice." San laughs. "Besides, I stopped letting that consume me a long time ago. It's none of my concern anymore. As long as I can get my shit done without issues and minimal contact, I couldn't care less."

"That's real, honestly." Chris lets out a breath. "Well, I'm gonna ask him to do a talk."

"Go for it. Will probably be good for the grant, too." San sighs. He meant it when he said he stopped letting the entire thing consume him a long time ago. And he does have to interact with Yunho whether he likes it or not; it's not like he's gonna give everything up just because he can't stand some petty drama from the past. Besides, he promised Namjoon he was okay. He promised he wouldn't cause issues even though Namjoon didn't expect any. But, it did hurt. He's not gonna lie— there are days when he still questions everything and he wonders why things unfolded the way it did.

He just knows better now, and can actually brush it off without it affecting his mood, his surroundings.

"I gotta keep going through my list of people."

"I can ask around, too." San says. "Do you want me to see if the big conference room is free?"

"Yeah, please?" Chris laughs. "They give you everything."

"No, they don't." San rolls his eyes with a chuckle.

"Damn near." Yeosang adds.

"Any of your lab members wanna do a poster presentation?"

"Uh." San shuts his eyes in thought for a second. "Let me ask, I think Yoon might have some good data to present."

"Okay, let me know." San nods. "You guys free for lunch later?"

"12:30, maybe?" Yeosang stands and looks at his watch. "I gotta get to my next round of meetings 'till then."

"Same. Text me where to meet?" Chris stands and nods before throwing up the peace sign.

"Will do. Thanks for the tips and for looking into the room."

"I'll let you know what they say." Both Christopher and Yeosang nod just as they walk out of his office and leave him to his peace. He makes a note to send an email after his next meeting about the room and catering, knowing how hard it can be to reserve a room within a month's time frame at this campus. He'll do what he can to help Chris, though— that's one of his good friends and somebody who didn't turn their back on him after everything that's happened. Even Yeosang, Mingi, Jongho. Namjoon. Of course, everyone works great together. Everyone is civil when they need to be. But San knows if he ever needed them, they'd be there for him in a heartbeat.

They'd be the people he could turn to without question.

When it comes time for lunch, San is barely getting out of his meeting at 12:30pm. He finds Chris, Yeosang and Mingi at the café right across the way from the Harvey Center, falling in line with them just as it grows during the lunch hour rush. They grab their food and plop down at a shaded table off to the side, greeting a few familiar faces and passing students.

"What's up?" Yunho passes, nodding at the table and giving Chris' shoulder a quick massage. Iseul follows behind, not paying the group any mind. Yeosang, Mingi and Chris share their own 'hello's,' while Yunho and San continue to play the silent treatment with each other. Yes, San will work with Yunho if he needs to. He'll be civil, he'll act like nothing ever happened. He'll act like their relationship wasn't severed after everything that went down. But, if he's out here minding his business, eating lunch with friends— he'd rather not bump into Yunho and Iseul and make any small talk. Simply just cause. He's done a lot of work to get past that and he doesn't want anything to do it with anymore.

"Anyway." Mingi says, making Chris snort.

"Anyway. Ya'll trying to hit the gym sometime tomorrow?"

"I'm down." San says, scrolling through his phone. He'll scratch some time out of his evening to hit the gym since it's been a few days since his last gym session. At least, he plans to finalize his class schedule before end of the day today— he'll have a little more breathing room once he submits that to the department.

"No way, you're not serious!" Your voice echoes as you exit the café, laughing along with Jiung and Felix over Felix's random encounter that he was giving you details about. San diverts his attention to your group, recognizing the outfit, the voice. He sips on his drink and continues to watch the smile on your face build, the animated hand gestures you use, the way you so attentively listen to every word your friends are telling you. Oddly enough, he finds that seeing you is a good distraction. He feels a little more relaxed post-5 second Yunho and Iseul encounter, a small subtle smile creeping up on his lips when he sees you throw your head back in laughter. It's soothing.

That's probably the moment he realizes you are enticing.

And to be honest, he's not understanding why he feels a certain pull to you; it's so uncommon and so, so foreign, to him. He doesn't even think he felt this way when he first started dating Iseul. Don't get him wrong— he did love her, he did feel the usual giddiness, the honeymoon phase, all of the above. Everything progressed as naturally as it could with that time.

But with you, he's finding a certain itch. He's not sure how to relieve himself, especially when he knows he shouldn't. He can't.

It'll be trouble having you around, he's very aware of that. It'll be a test for him, the boundaries he creates to make sure you both don't cross that line.

He can't.

Still doesn't mean he won't.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom

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bokettochild · 1 month

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I cannot BELIEVE no one told me we had an update!!!!!

Anyways, here's my favorite bits as always, because I need to SCREAM about this one!

The rupee acquisition!

I love how JoJo included that traditional *item acquired* pose that all the Links do, and gave it a reason in the comic (Wind insisting he hold it up is just so fun)

Sky's comment though, "don't spend it all in one place". Isn't that a line you get in Skord when you acquire rupees? The cute little easter eggs here are so fun!

I also really love how Legend is taking an instructional role here, both with Wars and the champion!

While also letting his veteran show

and I love that the rest recognize that! Wild calling Legend "an expert" and actually listening to what he has to say, even if he doesn't agree with it.

I also super like the panels of Twilight's interaction with Legend here

Very eldest and middle sibling discussing the youngest child, and I love it. It reminds us that, even for all the cuteness we got between them in the last arc, Twilight still sees Legend as too rough around the edges, enough that it borders on bullying when it comes to some of the rest, and he's trying to curb that. And Legend is LISTENING, because (as I've said a thousand times) Legend respects Twilight and values his opinion. Twilight is his big brother too now and Legend, while still being himself, genuinely seems to care about his opinion.

Twilight's just tense in general, although why, I think is mostly because of Time's sharp scolding in the last update. Even though he's snapping back at the younger ones, he's not very happy to be snapped at right now, and he's eager to get out from under Time's watchful eye.

Time and Warriors

Because while he feels e has grounds to correct Legend for telling Wild what to do, Warriors straight up subtly scolding his protege is different. And the difference is that Legend and Wild and Twi had camaraderie (see Dawn p.3), they're brothers, but Wars is approaching this as a commander, a captain, and Twi doesn't appreciate that. Warriors isn't their leader though, but he's taking that role anyways. (Old habits die hard, I'm sure)

I mean, we all knew Wars was going to confront Wild sooner or later, but I'm glad he was so calm about it. Twilight's ruffled feathers (fur) is more from Time being overbearing, I believe, so it aggravates any slight annoyance Warriors might present.

Even despite some of our suspicions earlier, I like this bit here. Wild was a soldier once, and the captain is very much the image of what he would have worked with before. JoJo mentioned wanting to play with that dynamic, with them bothering having military background, and I think this is that training (hundred years ago though it was) kicking in and making the champion defer to the man who outranks him (as far as they know). Granted, they all call Wars "Captain" but this felt pointed.

I do love Four acting as the word of wisdom here, advising Time, just like he does Twilight, as to the best way to handle a team. it's a reminder that he's done this before, and he knows how teamwork can be, but also that sometimes you need space and working together means working in different areas.

Anyways, here's a couple bonus things that make me happy!

Bunny stance!

(shh, I know he's making a point by stepping on Wild's toes, let me have this)

Wars being so freaking pretty! Dear Hylia help me! (Is it wrong I understand Cia a bit now?)

Wind being the youngest sibling who is Done With Your Chatter

A competent boy being competent (and not as experienced as Ledge, but pretty darn close (if you've played both their games you know))

Showing off items! (I can hear the little ✨da nana na✨)

And of course, I love Time being a tired, overprotective parent (he looks like my mom here, good grief!)

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe update #lu legend #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu wild #lu four #lu time #lu wind #lu sky #lu hyrule

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silliewrites · 15 days

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If I could save time in a bottle...

summary: [Platonic Logan Howlett x gn!reader/ famillial dynamics} After the passing of your parent figure some years ago, your friend Wade comes back from a deadly mission with a replica of him. You also soon learn that someone that is definitely not Wade has something to do with the mess that is currently the resting place of that loved one. Finally, you and the ‘worst’ Wolverine find you are on the road to healing together.

wc: 3.4k

warnings: angst and comfort, grief, strong language, brief mention of child death (in worst! Logan's universe), spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine as well as Logan (2017), the bye bye bye scene is treated as grave desecration (which i mean,it is… but reader is naturally gonna see nothing humorous about it)

a/n: This is a bit of a mess because I never write, yet I have so many feelings and thoughts I had to do something with them. Not having seen a platonic fic of this kind anywhere I guess I had to make one. Also..I did some basic research on the general deadpool canon yet..I’m not entirely informed, having not watched deadpool 2… let’s hope for the best

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

You used to be the youngest student in the X mansion back in the day, just a child having mutated under life altering circumstances, the usual.

It was Logan who found you. He was your rock during and after the traumatizing event of your mutation, taking you in and placing you in the arms of the X-men and thanks to him they became your family.

You saw him no less than as a father. Despite his brooding, harsh exterior it was never difficult for you to see that he cared.

He never shot you down when you knocked on his door in the middle of the night, sobbing after another brutal nightmare. He took you seriously when you talked about your fears and worries. He saved you and helped you stand on your feet more times than you could count.

Seeing death and bad things happen to your family of mutants always hurt viciously but when Logan died it felt like something you would never get over.

With your abilities generally under control, you chose to avoid actively partaking in X men work (Not that you refused your assistance, if someone called for you specifically. It had better be very urgent though.)

So you tried to find a rhythm of what resembled a normal life for the most part, a decent job and some good friends. That was what he would have wanted, no, said he wanted for you.

You kept ties with Laura too, having bonded over your shared grief, the man having died in her arms after all. She was some years younger than you and you were happy to consider her a good friend, the younger sibling type.

Some years ago she had disappeared, causing you yet another source of anxiety. Turns out she herself had been banished to the Void. The relief you felt when Wade came back from that limbo hell while managing to bring her back too, was immense. You have never hugged anyone tighter than Laura the day you saw her again.

Speaking of Wade, through this and that, you had also become acquaintances. He had needed your assistance when he was forming his X force crew and you had hesitantly accepted, making it clear that this would be an one-time thing.

He seemed to be a "Wolverine fanboy" in his own words which caused him to bombard you with childish questions about him until you very firmly made him aware of your boundaries. There was a time and place to talk about Logan.

When that shitshow was over with, you did not mind him considering you your friend. Sure, he was a bit much for you, not a huge fan of his 'humor' but seeing him in moderation was not unpleasant…Alright, maybe you did enjoy his company and friendship, it was as simple as that.

After a chat with him, you learned that the rent in his apartment building was relatively cheap for New York standards, so when it was time to move out of your previous place, that was where you went.

Then the damn timeline thing happened. You were pretty confused as to how exactly the events played out, not being involved, thankfully. But the crazy fucker did it, he saved the universe from extinction apparently. And not exactly by himself.

Logan was there. Not your Logan but apparently a variant of him was necessary to pull the mission off.

And now that version of him was Wade's roommate. Great. Perfect. Definitely something easy for you to process in the days to come.

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

You first saw them after the mission on your way to catch a cab to the airport. It was that time of the trimester when you were to visit him. Bleak yet you longed to see him and speak to him, even if he was resting under the earth.

Wade had the decency to explain everything to you once it was decided that Logan’s variant would be staying. He knew that you never really stopped grieving and you appreciated the warning that basically an almost exact replica of your dead father figure would now roam around your earth.

Almost exact, because according to Wade, this Logan was more of a dick, more crude and erratic, apparently rendered by his extra layers of grief and hatred. Partially understandable but you would not accept that as an excuse if he said something cruel in front of you, you would probably introduce him to your interesting mutative abilities. You let Wade know so that he could warn mr stick-up-his-ass. Wade more than happy to accept, still assured you that with the life or death mission being over, Logan was attempting to be more approachable.

The feelings this new reality brewed in you were..mixed, to say the least.

You made eye contact with Wade from across the street and of course he shot up from the bench he was sitting on, dropping his half eaten sandwich to the ground, moving his arms vigorously in the air, catching not only your attention but any other passerby's.

Even though your stomach turned at having to face the him, you wanted to check up on Wade after all this madness he went through. And on his friend as well, you supposed.

You looked both ways before passing the street and before you knew it, Wade’s arms wrapped around your neck. You patted his back with one hand, unable to help the choking sounds that left you.

“It’s so good to see you, my little honey pumpkin bear!” He squealed excitedly while squeezing the dear life out of you. He really thought he’d never see his friends again, huh.

“Oof, yeah Wade, it’s really nice to see you too, please just-” You broke free of his hold and held an arm’s distance between the two of you. You patted his arm and gave him a small but genuine smile. “Really glad you’re ok. Not that I expected anything le-”

Your words slowly died out when your gaze met Logan’s. He was sitting on the bench observing the interaction silently. He looked just like you remembered him, minus some differences. Well, obviously he was supposed to be the same person yet..he was not.

He looked up at you, brows furrowed while his eyes scanned through your face before flashing with what seemed like recognition (Not that you knew what it was he was seeing) He seemed tense and his mouth gaped before he turned his attention to the ground.

Wade naturally noticed the uncomfortable tension between the two of you and he decided to chime in quickly.

“Ah, yes this is the Wolverine I had to kidnap to help me with the time ripper bullshit and oh boy, did he deliver!”

You kept your eyes on the Variant, forcing yourself into a polite smile (that resembled more of an awkward line) and you extended your hand to him, causing him to lift his gaze at you again.

“Nice to meet you...Logan. Thank you for your help with unscrewing our timeline” You said as pleasantly as you could and he took your hand after a moment of hesitation, shaking it with a gentle firm and a silent nod.

His presence..It made your stomach turn. Feeling the threat of your vision getting watery, you quickly averted your gaze away from the two, as subtle as you could manage.

“I..Wade, m’ sorry, would love to sit a bit more but I have to go-”

“Hey wait, tomorrow we’ll be having a get-together to celebrate the un-fuckery of the universe, a partEy if you will! Everyone will be there, Al will be making that terrible casserole you really like also!”

You gave him a melancholic smile, genuinely sad you would not be able to attend. Logan’s variant was back to looking at the ground.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I won’t make it, I’m afraid. I’m going to the airport right now actually, will be off for the next three days. Gotta see someone..”

“Ooooh” Wade whistled while wiggling his brows “and is that someone maybe a super hot sexy mysterious boyfriend? Or girlfriend? Or theyfriend? Or-”

“Heh, nope. Nothing like that unfortunately.”

“Sure, sure, keep your secrets, you ankle biter, but promise to pass by the apartment once you’re back, we gotta catch up!”

You nodded. “Of course. See you then.”

Two days later you found yourself back in New York in a rush, in front of Wade’s apartment door, ready to invent a way that would actually exterminate him.

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

Nothing prepared you for the mess you saw in what was supposed to be Logan’s resting place.

The snow had ceased completely. With a simple look his grave was undug and the makeshift X was missing. When you approached, the little fresh snow that had fallen last night was covering various types of debris. Some type of fight had taken place and someone had collected the bodies in a rush yet they did not bother with what you spotted after closer inspection and some digging with your hands.

Metallic looking appendages…These were…

You looked inside the open grave. The snow had barely covered the remains in there and it was obvious they were not even half of what they were supposed to be.

You suppressed the violent urge to vomit. Someone had taken him out, violated his remains and as if in a haste, threw them back in.

You dug through the snow with bare hands around the grave. A fragment here. A fragment there. The spine. What was left of the cranium. White hot rage.

You called Laura with shaking hands. Offended would be an understatement for how she sounded, as well, unaware of who could have possibly caused this. Why were you even calling her, poor girl was in the void for a while now, what could she possibly do or know?

You hung up with the intention of looking through the situation a bit more and catching her up later.

While trying to stay calm and focusing all your mental energy on collecting, wiping and gently placing the remains back in the hole, it clicked.

Wade.

From the few words you two had exchanged ever since he was back, you gathered he turned every stone to find “a Wolverine” to assist him. Yet you could not imagine what the everloving fuck would he defile your Wolverine’s grave for and what caused him to spread his bones all over like fucking confetti.

You would not stand for this. Just because Wade saved the stupid timeline, he did not automatically become immune to the most extraordinary ass whooping of the century. If he had something to do with this, you would not forgive him easily, if at all

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

After taking a deep breath, you rang the bell. Tapping your foot on the ground, you heard some mumbling and shuffling before the door opened.

Wade made a surprised expression that resembled a caricature.

“Sweet baby cakes! You're back already? Come on in, I was just thinking about starting a gossip girl marathon. Again!”

Wade's cheerful expression fell almost immediately when you stayed still for a moment too long, not responding.

Althea did not seem to be home. Good.

Wade's expression morphed into one of concern.

“Pumpkin, is everything-”

“Wade. Guess where I just came back from.”

You took a slow step forward, dropping you backpack to the floor.

“Erm..a male stripclub full of hot babes?”

“North Dakota.”

“Don't you say! Did North Dakota had any good male strip-” He stopped himself before realization hit him. “And..may I ask..what was it you were doing in North-”

“You know very well what.”

Wade put his hands in front of him defensively and closed the door. “Hey Pumpkin, why don't you just sit so that we can-”

“Shut. Up.” You whispered.

“When I got to his grave, someone had completely messed it up. Signs of fighting around. Do you happen to have anything to do with that?” You said in a dangerously low voice, eyes glued on him.

Wade, whose mouth formed into an awkward line, clearly not having a reasonably enough excuse to give you.

“Er, you see, um remember when I was looking for a Logan, well I started my search with the OG, you know, just to make sure he was dead dead and unfortunately he was and um then you see err the TVA showed up and um-”

He stopped when you put your hands on your face, squeezing it while a muffled screech of rage escaped you.

“You motherfucking, with no semblance of decency, insensitive prick. You defiled Logan's remains and used them as a shield, throwing them around like toys? And you have the nerve to come back home and look me in the eye after the fact? To look Laura in the eye? Do you not have any fucking shame? Am I simply an afterthought to you?”

Silence. You could not see through the tears. With shaky hands you pulled out of your pocket a tiny clothed item and you carefully unwrapped the cover to reveal a small metallic fragment.

“You may think everything's a fucking game but that man was my family, and worst part is you know this very damn well! How dare you!”

“You have every right to be angry, just let me-”

You grabbed the first object you could reach, which was a half empty bottle of liquor and threw it across the room, causing it to smash angrily on the wall of the living room. Wade winced slightly before groaning in frustration.

With that, a bedroom shot open and an alarmed Logan variant made an appearance, claws already out.

“What the fuck is hap-”

He stopped in his tracks seeing it was just you. He probably had already heard your yelling earlier yet it did not answer any questions about what was going on.

“What the hell, kid?” he said with a subtle hint of alarm.

You take a step towards him, looking up at his face, paying no mind to his blades that were now retreating back inside. God, how it hurt to stare right into his features. Feeling a wave of nausea, you picked up your bag and turned your back to the two men.

“Wait, can't we just talk about this?” Wade said

“No, you ruined my week enough” You mumbled bitterly before exiting his apartment. Week, more like, year.

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

The roof of the building was pretty nice, you always preferred it when you wanted some time to yourself outside the walls of your apartment. You rarely ever saw any other tenant there, especially in the late afternoons.

This is where you found yourself that night, elbows supported on the railing, observing the busy street from above while sipping on bad beer.

How you wished he was there right now. How you wished for one more simple moment with him, where you could just be in his presence once again, chat about nonsense or simply sit in comfortable silence next to him.

What would he think of you as the person you were trying to become? Would he be proud of you?

How you wished he would put his hand on your shoulder comfortingly right now.

You missed him. So much.

A high pitched creak came from the direction of the heavy door behind you, causing you to jump a little and instinctively wipe the fresh tears that you just then realized were running down your face.

“Sorry, kid, did I scare you? They mustn't have oiled this door in fucking ever..” There was Logan, the new one. Whatever entity was reading your thoughts a moment prior must be finding your misery hilarious.

“Hope I’m not bothering you”

“No, no. I don’t own the rooftop..” You mumbled softly, turning your attention back on the street, trying to ignore the feeling of clear tension he brought with him. You swore to God, if he was about to make a crass comment..

He came to stand next to you, mimicking the position of your elbows on the railing. He himself was holding a glass, filled with one most likely alcoholic liquid.

“That asshole told me everything about the grave thing. If I were you, I would have torn him apart.”

“I’m sure you already know this isn’t possible by any means”

Logan huffed. “Oh, believe me, I do. I’ve tried at least three times”

You gave a noncommittal nod, trying not to focus too much the gruff voice you always found so comforting.

“...You know..You existed in my timeline too” He mumbled before gulping a generous sip of his drink.

That made you look up at him, surprised. “I…did?”

“Oh, yes you did. Lively little brat you were.” He said with a laugh you could only describe as melancholic. He said it like it hurt.

“You went through so much for a child. And you did cry quite often ‘cause of it, yet you were still so..” He seized, taking a heavy breath and emptying his glass. “So full of life. A good kid.” The city lights reflecting on his eyes, making it easier for you to see how watery they were.

“I..assume I…”

You were interrupted by another one of those devastating low laughs that made your heart ache.

“Yeah. You were among them. Those fuckers did not even spare a fucking child. I was the one who got you with the X-men and it ended in..” He hissed through his teeth and half closed mouth. He took a moment to collect himself and breathed out.

“I’m so sorry, Logan.” You whispered genuinely. You didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t be, …sorry, didn't mean to make it about myself.”

“You didn’t, really!”

A moment of awkward silence before you decided to share your piece.

“My Logan, er, you..I suppose it’s more or less the same as it was in your world but..you were like a…You were the closest I ever felt to a parent. I grew up because of you and..yeah, when I was around 17, you died.” It was almost funny how much you oversimplified those statements but it was the best you could manage at the given moment.

He nodded, listening intently.

“I’m sure that..If he saw how you grew into who you are today, doing your own thing, in spite of the mutation shit and all…he wouldn’t change a thing about how all these fucking events went down..”

“You..think so?”

He chuckled, giving you a small smile, tired but genuine.

“Hell, I know so.” he said. You could tell. You could tell that he desperately wished this was how the events played out in his own world, with the other you alive and a bright future ahead of them.

You hesitated for a moment, not sure if what you were about to say would be too much for him. Then again, it was him who approached you with this vulnerable conversation.

“For what it's worth I would… they would want you to keep on living. Not forget them, not at all. Just..be. Be a person. Make friends and..live.”

He looked you in the eye for a second, before averting your gaze and looking anywhere but you. This was hard for him. But he was trying.

He patted your back firmly. “Thanks, kid.” It was a very simple thing you told him yet you could not possibly know what it meant to him.

You thought that maybe you got what you wished for. Not exactly and certainly not ideally. But you and this Logan had something in common. Maybe, you could help and comfort each other in a way nobody else possibly could.

“Y’ know..I'm glad you got to stay, Logan.”

A smile. “I'm glad to be here, kiddo.”

A pause.

“How long do you think I should make Wade do my laundry for? Y'know. For retribution?”

“Oh, six months at least, bub..”

You stayed for a couple hours chatting above the restless city, topics including but not limited to work, university and acquaintances.

Your pain was soothed a tiny bit and you hoped Logan's was too. You had a lot of time ahead of you to work on that further, after all.

#deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine x reader #platonic!reader #logan howlett x reader #worst!wolverine x reader #worst!wolverine #x men

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calmcoldevening · 8 months

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Can you pls do slashers x reader who is very girly❤❤

It's ok if you don't want to do it!❤

Hey, of course I'll write it. Well, I didn't know which slashers you want, so I chose these four. If you want another slashers, just let me know, kitten ♡

I'm sorry it turned out so little, I'm just not good at 'girly' things

Slashers x girly!reader

Characters: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt

Michael Myers

• He doesn't care. Michael absolutely does not care what you look like or what you wear, his affection is much deeper than external indicators.

• Although he doesn't particularly like it when you wear dresses or skirts that are too revealing. Michael sees people staring at you in the streets with hungry eyes. Because of this, he becomes very possessive. He will keep an eye on you on the streets with special care so that nothing happens to you.

• He likes your hips in dresses. After a long day, he just likes to put his hands under the fabric of your dress and squeeze your hips, his head resting on your stomach. You are his place of comfort.

• You are the only person whose feelings are even a little important to him. He'll be able to listen to you, but don't expect an extremely vivid reaction. If you're crying and you need comfort, the most he'll do is pull you onto his lap and hold you close, grumbling through his mask into your hair.

• He absolutely loves your shampoos and floral perfume. Amidst all the vulgarity of the modern world, you were his personal delicate flower.

• In general, such dynamics would be very much to Michael's liking. He is such a strong and big man and you are his little thing. He would be quite attentive, protective and dominant. If possible (if I remembered) Michael would bring you some trinkets, maybe even flowers.

Jason Voorhees

• Jason would be absolutely happy to be your partner. He would be as gentle, caring and attentive as possible. Jason is basically quite lonely, he lacks love and attention, and you are all so gentle and beautiful, like a young spring flower, he will love you with all his heart and protect you.

• Gives you flowers, teddy bears, all sorts of nonsense for no particular reason. He especially likes to collect flowers for you in the forest in a neat bouquet and tie it with a generic ribbon. Yes, it may not be a bouquet from the store, but it is made with all the love.

• He can listen for hours as you tell him about your makeup or some cute girly stuff. He will be very attentive. And although Jason doesn't understand everything about it, he will try to remember what you like. He really cares about your interests and tastes.

• If you make new nails, he will have a very violent reaction. Jason knows how important attention is to you, so when you come home with a new manicure, he will almost faint from such beauty. A man will gently take your smooth hands and gently kiss your beautiful fingers in turn. You are his treasure.

• Jason absolutely accepts and supports you, regardless of how you like to behave or dress. It will support all your new hobbies and help you if necessary.

Bubba Sawyer

• Bubba will squeal with joy when he finds out about your interests. In principle, he just liked to see you, so fragile and sweet against his background, in dresses, and now he finds out that you are interested in many different things... He loves you with all his heart.

• Bubba was fond of makeup and all that even before he met you, so now he will shyly ask you to teach him how to make up as beautifully as you do. His ears are red, and his gaze is fixed on the floor, he is a little ashamed to ask for such a thing. After all, he's such a big, tough man, but he trusts you.

• Very protective, especially from his brothers. He won't let anyone touch you.

• If you love cooking, he will be even more crazy about you. He's a pretty big boy, so he likes to eat delicious food. Hugs you tightly every time you cook your next incredibly wonderful dish. You have to eat, he has to do the dishes, he doesn't want you to ruin your delicate hands.

• Loves carrying you in her arms. He basically likes your size difference, it makes him feel like your protector. Madly in love with you and your personality, he won't let anyone hurt you.

Thomas Hewitt

• Thomas has wanted to have a sweet little wife and start a family with her all his life, but he didn't think anyone would really love him. And then you showed up. So sweet, beautiful, small and innocent. He's crazy about you.

• On the one hand, he is a strong, courageous and caring man who will try to do whatever you want for you, he always tries to make you happy. But on the other hand, in your gentle embrace, he turns into a stupid little boy who only wants attention from his beautiful wife.

• Thomas is very protective of you. He would not allow any of the victims to lay a finger on his fragile sweet lover. If they dare to look at you lasciviously, Thomas will rip out their eyes without a twinge of conscience. You made him change for the better with your bright and pure soul, but he still remains a violent maniac, so he won't let anyone offend you.

• Now he treats female victims a little more carefully. He tries not to spoil their jewelry or things, in case you want to take some of it for yourself. In addition, he takes special care to take the victims' suitcases out of their cars and checks for any trinkets that you might like.

• Can't stand the looks of Hoyt and Monty on you. When you walk around the house in a skirt or dress, Thomas tries to be close to you and hug you around the waist, covering your hips with his big hand. You are only his treasure.

#slashers x reader #michael myers imagine #michael myers x reader #michael myers #jason voorhes x reader #jason voorhees #bubba sawyer x reader #bubba sawyer #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader

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sevensoulmates · 5 months

Text

Buddie 7x06 Meta

HURRAH! It's not a four-parter this time!! Just a one-parter! It's a Madney/Chim-centric episode (which by the way I loved) but the buddie we got was AMAZING! I'm so excited for the rest of the season. We're just gonna dive right in!

First, I want to say that with the hindsight of this episode, we now know that the bachelor party was not ACTUALLY something that needed to happen, narrative-wise. It didn't actually contribute anything to the Chim plot, as that would've happened with or without buddie going crazy in the hotel room. So, all of the Bachelor Party was written purely for the purpose of watching Buck and Eddie have a good time. Maybe for comedic relief, maybe for the purposes of furthering their story at a later point in the series. Time will tell.

First, I've seen other people point out that Buck expected Eddie to be early (even though he's the first person there) because he wanted Eddie to help him set up for Chim's party. To Buck, Eddie is the person who helps him with everything. This is Buck's idea, yes, but Eddie is the proverbial co-host in this married dynamic. So Eddie being "late" feels more like Buck being disappointed his partner wasn't there to help him behind the scenes to make everything perfect. It really does make the whole scene feel like Buck-and-Eddie (the bro-in-laws) throwing the party. So of course Eddie's breaking the unspoken rules by being late.

I love how Eddie walks in completely ready to be fawned over by Buck with their couple's outfit. It's hilarious to me because 1.) Tommy was planning on coming, Buck could've told Eddie he wanted to do a couple outfits with Tommy instead?, and 2.) Eddie was fishing for compliments and it just makes me giggle. If Buck wasn't so stressed out over this bachelor party, he likely would've reacted how Eddie wanted and given him a bunch of compliments on his look. It was jaw-dropping. If most of us (the audience) were blown away seeing Eddie in a pink suit for the first time in the bts (to the point where most of us were like "no way he's in character, this has to be Ryan's wardrobe choice"), I know that the other characters were too. It's not Eddie's typical wardrobe choice. In fact, it's such an out-of-character fashion choice for him, that it's unlikely that Eddie just had this lying around in his closet to throw on. He probably had to go and buy a suit like this just for the occasion. Eddie had to put in a lot of effort to do this couple's costume with Buck, and he did it all happily and enthusiastically. We'll come back to this in just a second because...

CLIPBOARD BUCK IS BACK! sans clipboard but you get my drift. I love how this visually connects Buck to his sister and harkens back to a lovely Buddie moment "This is Eddie's house, I'm not really a guest" back in season 3. This time around, we have Eddie assuming he would get special husband privileges and is pouty when Buck doesn't allow it.

BUT at the same time, he's not getting on Buck's case too much about it beyond the initial pouting. He may not know why Buck's so insistent on throwing a party, but he knows it's what Buck wants, so he moves on, and even watches with somewhat amusement when clipboard Buck gets turned on Ravi for doing the same thing later.

I also want to point out that Eddie has never once, ever, been upset with, annoyed by, or irritated with Buck when he's in Clipboard Buck mode. Most of the time, Eddie either finds it amusing cute, or is just generally accepting of it. This is no exception, however, this later devolves into Buck and Eddie going absolutely wild. This further exemplifies how Buck and Eddie accept and support each other, even when the other is being lowkey stupid (everything they do at the bachelor party) or unreasonable (clipboard Buck). It's all very much partner in crime coded.

Framing. Jesus Christ the FRAMING. Tommy walks in and not even two seconds into the interaction, the camera frames Eddie FRONT AND CENTER between them, watching Buck and then watching Tommy. Buck and Tommy hug and when they pull back, there's Eddie watching them with an odd look on his face. I'm not going to go so far as to call this jealousy/pettiness, but it is odd. There's an intimate physical moment between Buck and Tommy, and then Eddie, who constantly haunts their narrative, is just there. And he's actually objecting to Tommy's presence there. Not in a mean or hostile way, but just a second ago he was high-fiving Tommy, welcoming him in, but once the physical special relationship between Buck and Tommy is established, Eddie starts to bristle a little bit.

This entire exchange is just odd. Eddie knows that Tommy is friends with Chim. He has every right to be there for Chim alone. He's also aware that Buck now has a closer relationship with Tommy, and Buck's the only one who wants this bachelor party, so it should be obvious that Tommy would come. And yet...Eddie is questioning Tommy's presence there. He's reducing Tommy to Buck's "date", not Eddie's friend or Chim's friend, or someone who's slowly integrating into the group. No, it only becomes a problem when Tommy is there as "Buck's date".

This is then proven by Tommy, who's actually known Chimney longer than either Buck or Eddie have known him. He has all the right to be invited. But what's especially interesting is Buck's face when Eddie starts expressing objections to Tommy's presence. He looks shocked, a little worried, loss for words. Like he's worried Eddie is disapproving of them. It could be worry lingering from last episode, where Buck was afraid of his queerness pushing Eddie away. It also showcases a bit of awkwardness between Tommy and Eddie too. Eddie has been established as enjoying spending time with Tommy, and now he's hesitant to have Tommy in spaces with Buck as a romantic partner. It demonstrates that maybe Eddie isn't as comfortable with Buck and Tommy together as he led Buck/the audience to believe. But where is that uncomfortablity stemming from? That's yet to be determined canonically.

Buck then goes on the deny that Tommy is his date (for the bachelor party) and insists that Tommy is only his date officially tomorrow at the wedding. I personally don't understand why Buck would need to clarify that Tommy isn't his date to the bachelor party. If they're dates for one, it's usually assumed they're dates for the other, especially given how close the events are. I get that Buck wants to make the night about Chimney, but it can be about Chimney and still have Tommy there as a date.

This is also an interesting line that I've pondered over. Because while it's true that taking Tommy as a date anywhere would be hard launching both Buck's queerness and his relationship with Tommy, which could draw attention away from Madney and to Buck, but it also shouldn't be that big of a deal (and is proven at the end of the episode too). If the wedding had gone to plan originally, then Buck and Tommy going together wouldn't have had to have drawn too much attention. He could've told Chim, Hen, his parents + everyone separately before the ceremony even began. It didn't have to be such a huge deal, so I was wondering why Eddie brings out the usual phrase the show tends to use when they want to remind Buck that not everything is about him. But Buck wasn't trying to make it about him. Eddie should know this. As much as Buck has had issues in the past of taking things far too personally, and believing things to be more about him than they actually are, that's not what is happening here.

I actually think Eddie saying this line is more revealing of Eddie's feelings than it is about Buck making it about him again. It's revealing that Buck, his relationship with Tommy, and Buck's queerness are a big deal to Eddie, enough so that he believes it will draw a lot of attention. And maybe Eddie's not as cool with the idea of everyone knowing about Buck and Tommy as he tells himself. I want to reiterate that I don't believe any of this stems from legit homophobia towards Buck and/or Tommy, but more so a discomfort Eddie harbors about Buck's queerness, what it means for Eddie, and what Buck being with Tommy takes away from Eddie. All of this is unconscious, confusing, and frustrating for Eddie, and therefore what comes out of Eddie's mouth is a barb at Buck's expense. And it's why his reaction to BuckTommy at the end of the episode is kind of muted but mostly positive. He's confused.

Buck had told Tommy previously that it was an 80s theme party and asked him to dress up. This brings me back to my previous point that Buck could've asked Tommy to dress up with him. Instead, Buck and Eddie are framed as the literal "couple" here visually, and Tommy is framed as the odd one out. Not only that, but what he is wearing is a Henley, which as most of us know, is a staple of Eddie's wardrobe. (General author's note: I don't usually harp on about wardrobe choices in the show because that's not my specialty but I will here because it is a textual part of the plot).

We've previously established in the last few episodes that Tommy is a narrative mirror to Eddie. Tommy's meant to be like Eddie in almost every way, same interests, similar personality types, etc. He's even paralleling Eddie here by dressing the same way Eddie normally dresses. But it's being juxtaposed by Eddie standing right beside him (once again Eddie is framed in the middle throughout this entire exchange with Buck/Tommy when Eddie very easily could've just stepped off to the side to let them have some privacy). EDDIE is dressed way differently than he usually is in a bright pink suit, going out of his way to make Buck happy even if it brings him out of his comfort zone wardrobe-wise. And in contrast, Tommy did not take the time to dress up, even though he knew Buck wanted him to. I'm not saying that this makes Tommy a bad person, or inconsiderate of Buck, but it's just one of those little things. One of those forethought things that Tommy just isn't aware of because he's only been dating Buck for a few weeks at this point.

Others have pointed out that Tommy would've had to change out of his clothes and into his uniform regardless if he was on standby, so why couldn't he have at least just added a little bit of 80s flair to his current outfit? It wouldn't have been any more time-consuming. Maybe it would've put Tommy out of his own comfort-zone, or maybe he would've been a bit embarrassed, but that's the kind of thing that one might reasonably risk in order to make their partner happy.

Tommy isn't aware that by not dressing up, he's hurting Buck's feelings. That's just one of those things he wouldn't know about Buck because he does not have the lived experience of what Buck needs emotionally from his partners. Eddie, on the other hand, has years of experience with Buck and knows that if he really wanted to he could be just like everyone else who didn't dress up and that Buck would put on a face of being fine with it, but deep down inside, it would make Buck feel ignored and hurt. Eddie doesn't want to ignore Buck, and as we've seen from his last line about "making it about you", Eddie can't ignore Buck. So even if it means pushing himself out of his comfort zone, Eddie's going to show up in full costume, ready and enthusiastic to be with Buck.

All of this is being done for a purpose. It's to show us that while Buck and Tommy are still learning and developing their relationship, something is off, specifically in comparison to Eddie. The show is purposely framing Eddie as a better partner to Buck than Tommy is being in the current moment. Which is kind of unfair, if you think about it. If the show was setting Tommy up to be Buck's newest love and future endgame, they would instead be giving them opportunities to grow together, to get to know each other. Instead, the show is telling us in every subtly way it can that hey, wouldn't Buck fit so much better with Eddie instead? It's contradictory and doesn't further the plot if BuckTommy growth was the purpose. These bachelor party scenes as plot devices only work if the purpose is to show the audience that something isn't fitting with Buck and Tommy, but whatever that missing piece is, it does fit with Buck and Eddie.

Tommy then doesn't understand that they're supposed to be dressed up as the Miami Vice characters. He instead assumes The Wedding Singer (1998). First, I want to say that this is the 2nd Adam Sandler/Drew Barrymore romcom that's been mentioned in canon in relation to Buck (the first being 50 First Dates in the season 5 finale) and as a huge fan of those movies, I'm fangirling. Second, it aligns with Tommy's s2 characterization where he loves romcoms (Love, Actually, and now The Wedding Singer). Third, it's an interesting choice from the writers here to pick The Wedding Singer as the movie that springs to Tommy's mind. There are plenty of 80s movies with bright colors that could've been name-dropped. They instead purposely went for a movie about the 80s but made in the late 90s, for the express purpose of having Eddie point out that Tommy's wrong. This is all very subtle, but it definitely does feel like Eddie is trying to lowkey one-up Tommy. But why would he feel the need to do this?

I've seen others point this out as well, but The Wedding Singer is about two people who are engaged to other people who are very obviously not right for them, though they might try to convince themselves differently. I rewatched the movie yesterday morning and I found it very enlightening. Adam Sandler's character is very much in love with Drew Barrymore's character, and almost tells her to leave her fiance for him, but in the end, he assumes incorrectly that she's happy with the other guy, and leaves them be. Drew Barrymore's character was ready to settle with someone she didn't fully love for security, and the only reason she doesn't tell Adam Sandler's character the truth is because she thinks he's still in love with his ex. It's all very miscommunication-y, but at the same time, it's reflective of Buck and Eddie's characters currently too given that neither of them really knows what they're looking for, they're just seeking a feeling, and may or may not be finding it in their current respective partners. But in the end, even after all the miscommunications, there's a HEA in The Wedding Singer.

Something else of mention was how in the movie, Adam Sandler's character was asked how he knew that things weren't working out with his ex and he said something along the lines of "It was the little things. Like, one time we were going to the Grand Canyon, and I had never been there before and she had, and instead of letting me take the window seat in order to see the beauty of it from above, she took the window seat for herself." This reminded me of this scene with Tommy, where it's just the little things that aren't fitting between him and Buck. I will come back to the topic of BuckTommy and misalignment later.

There have been many posts discussing how Crockett and Tubbs are another one of those "manly" buddy-cop pairings who were very queer-coded best friends who obviously never got together. Many people believed Crockett to be bi-coded as well. What's interesting to me is that this marks the second/third time in the last two episodes where they argued about who is the bi-coded character. I just find it interesting meta-textually when you think about the fact that fans used to argue incessantly (still do honestly) about whether Buck or Eddie could be queer and now that Buck is confirmed to be queer, people argue that Eddie can't be queer now. Additionally (I don't watch Miami Vice but I looked at a lot of the pictures) it seems that visually, Eddie should be aware that he is dressed as Tubbs, since most of pictures of them feature Crockett in blue/green semi-casual and Tubbs in pink/elevated suits. Visually, their roles should be obvious to anyone who is familiar with the show. Just like how Buck's queerness is now obvious. But now, the argument is well, there's an argument to be made that Eddie could be Crockett, and subtextually, also queer.

The narrative continues to hint with every single episode that passes that it's very likely Eddie will discover his own queerness at some point in the show. Just like there's no need for Buck and Eddie to argue over who gets to be Crockett, they can both be Crockett for christ's sake, they're both gonna end up queer. Of that I am certain.

So not only was Eddie totally down to clown with Buck at this karaoke bachelor party, but he was the one who suggested the couple's costume. We see more instances of Eddie not trying to tell Buck "hey, Chim said he didn't want a party, so don't do it", instead he goes along with it and finds a way to be even more enthusiastic about it. And I don't think that that was just because Eddie really wanted to party. I think it was because Eddie realizes that Buck must be wanting to do this for a reason. Possibly Buck might be doing this because he wants to show Chimney just how supportive he is of him and Maddie, maybe it's because Buck never got to be too involved with Maddie's last wedding because Doug hated him. Maybe this is his way of trying to make up again for his actions in season 5 when Maddie left and Buck didn't tell Chim. Or hell, maybe it's just now hitting Buck that he's going to have a brother, for real now, after realizing all he lost with Daniel, and wants to make this day special for Chim to showcase his appreciation of their brotherhood.

Buck is obviously overcompensating for something, and Chim and the rest of the gang don't realize why the bachelor party is so important to Buck. Hell, Eddie might not know entirely either, but he does sense that there is something more than just "I want to party" going on with Buck and this bachelor party. And so, as always, he is ride or die for Buck.

Then, when everyone else gets up to leave karaoke, Eddie doesn't even get up. He doesn't make it look like he's also considering leaving either. He doesn't check his watch or phone or make it seem like it's a burden or an inconvenience to be there or like there's somewhere else he'd rather be.

Once again, this scene with Tommy and Buck is framed with Eddie clearly in the picture, to show how he's just chilling, drinking, and ready to stick it out with Buck regardless of what happens. And then Tommy is the last one to finally leave and disappoint Buck that night.

And now I want to bring it back to BuckTommy, misalignment, and the ever-present Screaming Universe. If this was real life, it would just be a coincidence, but it's not. This is scripted fiction and everything is done with a purpose. What purpose did the writers have to get rid of Tommy but keep Eddie around to party with Buck all night long? If the writers wanted, they could've had Tommy stick around, more so to show a juxtaposition between the three of them hanging out. Or the writers could've had Eddie leave, and Tommy stay. It would've served the same purpose. Tommy still could've left the next morning for work and come back sooty for the kiss. Instead, the story/universe wanted Tommy to leave and this undeniably creates a micro-conflict between Buck and Tommy. It's undeniable that Buck is disappointed that Tommy's leaving and that he didn't really seem all that enthused to be there in the first place. Tommy then leaves, he's gone for the majority of the episode and comes back at the end. This is now a pattern for the third time in a row.

In Tommy's introduction episode 7x04, he and Buck have a moment at the beginning of the episode, a conflict between Buck and Tommy is introduced, Tommy is there a couple times throughout but he and Buck do not have any one-on-one scenes again until the end where their "miscommunication" is resolved by their kiss. In 7x05, they have their date at the beginning where weirdness happens and Tommy ends it, is gone the rest of the episode, until he returns at the end for Buck to make up with and rekindle. And now in 7x06, Tommy is there at the beginning, there's a misconnection, Tommy leaves for the rest of the episode, and they reconnect at the very end.

That's three whole instances of conflict with BuckTommy all written in a very similar way back to back to back. All of these conflicts revolve around the theme of misalignment and not knowing what they want personally nor what the other person wants. All of this harkens back to that first little moment with Buck and Tommy in 7x03 where Buck pats Tommy's arm, Tommy reaches to connect their hands and misses. I predicted that this would be a metaphor for the rest of their relationship, and so far I've been right. Because it seems like no matter how hard both of them try, they aren't quite connecting, not to the fullest. There is always a conflict that pops up that pulls them apart every single episode and they have to find ways to resolve this at the end. Again, if this was irl it'd be a different story, but as part of a narrative where they're not only trying to showcase Buck's first-ever queer relationship but also strongly comparing it to his "platonic" relationship with Eddie, it feels pointed and poignant. Buck and Tommy's constant misalignment feels like the "universe" trying to tell them something but they're not yet at the point of understanding what.

I highly doubt Buck would've wanted to party with a bunch of strangers if he wasn't feeling so disappointed by both Tommy and Chim. Eddie too, I'm wondering why he didn't want to go home or go be with Chris and visit his family. Or maybe go and see if maybe Marisol wanted to hang out. In fact, Marisol not being in this episode at all, or even mentioned, after the last episode is telling as well.

Many people have pointed out that the karaoke scene parallels Maddie and Chim, and this is even more pointed when the song that is playing when Maddie and Chim get married is Island in the Stream which is the song they first sang karaoke to. Buck and Eddie we know sing "What I Like About You" by the New Romantics, which Oliver, Ryan, and Tim all described as the best song for them to sing to/with each other at this point in time. I still think of it as canon even though we didn't hear it (I get why, they had little time and also licensing is expensive). This song is a romantic song, that's undeniable, and it also makes me think of Shrek and Fiona so it's double iconic. It's also an interesting choice in the moment where Buck is at a low emotional point, and Eddie chooses to stick around with him, indulge with him, and have fun together. It really is a great moment to show how not only are they there for each other in serious and emotional moments, but they also just enjoy spending time with each other, and would choose to spend time with each other any time they can.

Now I wanna talk about just how close physically Buck and Eddie get in this episode. For a lot of us, it's kind of whiplash because while Buck and Eddie have hugged and touched before, never so much in this way, or this much, or this intimately. Buck has his arm around Eddie's neck, their faces closer than they've probably ever been before? Buck is literally whispering into Eddie's ear ("keep on whispering in my ear, tell me all the things that I wanna hear because it's true, that's what I like about you") pulling Eddie into his chest. Eddie's leaning his entire upper body onto Buck, resting most of his weight on Buck. They're pressed together thigh to thigh, leaning their knees on each other. All of this demonstrates not just an emotional closeness, but a physical closeness (thank you, ABC, fuck u Fox), and not only that but an intimate physical closeness. All of this coming right after an episode where Buck came out. I love this because it shows a lack of Eddie being weirded out by being physically close to a queer man as a (seemingly) straight man. But it's also just so telling because Buck and Eddie have not been this physically close before....like ever...in this show. And now they are at the turning point of Buck's queerness being made textual and Eddie's queerness being STRONG subtext? Oh my goodness it's such strong storytelling.

This might be reading into it, and I acknowledge that, but this dialogue exchange felt to me less like they were talking about all the nameless people who were around them and more so like they were talking about each other. These are strangers, they don't know Chim, let alone love him. Neither do these people know/love Buck or Eddie. Instead, this conversation reads to me more like Buck talking about how Chim should be here because his friends (Buck, Eddie, Hen, etc) love him, and Eddie agrees. Looking even deeper, given that Chim didn't show up and the rest of their friends left them for the night, this feels more like Buck and Eddie talking about themselves. Because why is Eddie here? There's no reason for Eddie to be here partying it up except for the fact that he loves Buck and he wants to make him happy and enjoys spending time with him. This exchange is Buck recognizing that, and Eddie agreeing that he really, really does love Buck. And that's why their shenanigans continue as they all move on to Chim's hotel room.

They could've given up/left once Chim's door was locked, but Eddie encourages Buck to keep on going. Touching Buck like how Eddie loves to touch Buck, in the way that's most appropriate for them, on the shoulder like this. Then he kicks the door in and when Buck is ready to go wake Chim up to party, Eddie's like "Eh let him sleep", because, for Eddie, he doesn't really need Chimney around to have fun. Despite what they were just saying about bringing the party to Chimney so that Chimeny could feel the love too, Eddie's perfectly content just partying it up with Buck and only Buck.

These three clips in the bachelor party montage....I'm just gonna be frank with you, they're so obviously meant to look sexual. So CONTENT WARNING**** for me about to talk about sexual positions and such.

I don't have to tell you that although Buck and Eddie are technically partying with a bunch of other people, none of them are actually important. They're NPCs there to give Buck and Eddie an excuse to do all of this stuff with each other. So everything they do in this scene is more so a reflection of their relationship with each other, as well as their metaphorical queerness than it is about just general partying.

We know (due to bts) that at some point Eddie was leaning over to pour alcohol into Buck's mouth. It looks like Buck is leaning back on the couch in his most favorite/frequent canonical sex position (girl on top/riding) that we've seen in the past. This time with his mouth wide open with a phallic symbol pouring a liquid directly into his mouth. It looks like a blowjob/cum shot. Then we have Eddie with his clothes being pulled off and torn away. From the bts, we know that Buck is behind him and helps the girls pull off his sleeves. Other than the obvious "ripping each other's clothes off" metaphor, there's also the "orgasmic" look on Eddie's face as well. Others have also discussed how Eddie appears to be recreating the "crucifixion pose" /Jesus on the cross with his arms out like that in a reference to his catholic guilt arc and how before he's very much let that guilt control him and now in this scene with his close being ripped off, it can also be a metaphor for Eddie's eventually freedom from compulsory heterosexuality and guilt.

The last still with both Buck and Eddie vigorously shaking champagne bottles near the crotches (mimicking mutual masturbation) and then both of the champagne bottles "explode" mimicking both of them reaching a mutual climax, which then cuts immediately to both of them waking up the next morning. It's very very obviously a metaphorical gay sex scene.

Separately from that, I want to discuss this specific still, with both Buck and Eddie in between 2 very clear-as-day drag queens. This inclusion elevates the scene subtly yet very clearly to represent both Buck AND Eddie in proximity to queerness/the queer community. It further cements the queerness of this entire montage scene.

Finally, to conclude the bachelor party scenes, I just want to reiterate, that Buck and Eddie could've figured out Chim was missing any which way. They could've gone over the next morning w/o partying there. Buck could've gone by himself, etc. There were many ways the "Chim is missing" plot could've been done without needing to go this route for Buck/Eddie. Which means that this plot was not for any necessary reason other than to bring Buck and Eddie together.

Then while they're going on their chase to find Chimney, Buck and Eddie are paired up together the entire time, working together as a team, once again looking more like an established couple than anything else.

Then, as if fitting with the BuckTommy "beginning and ending only" episode pattern, Tommy comes back only at the very end of the episode, and he and Buck kiss, transferring soot onto Buck's face and providing a very quick and easy way to come out to all the rest of the people who haven't yet known about Buck. Most people look surprised, others smug (Henren, we'll get to them) and Eddie gives an interesting close-lipped smile. This moment in and of itself isn't very loud. His face is purposely vague here (hats off to Ryan, king of microexpressions). Of course, Eddie's going to look happy for them, he's not going to look jealous. But his smile could be brighter, his eyes could be warmer. There's again just something off about his expression there. I think it's confusing for a reason, because Eddie too is confused about everything he's feeling.

Hen is incredibly smart, so I'm not surprised that she clocked Buck's queerness a while ago. Her telling Karen this, and Karen's agreement means that this is something they likely discussed in private as well. In my opinion, if she was able to clock Buck, there's no way she hasn't also clocked Eddie. She just isn't saying anything because she's a respectful and empathetic person.

Hen wasn't really there for most of Buck's Tommy-arc, but she WAS front and center for all of Eddie's "performance anxiety" around dating women. Trust me, when Eddie figures it out and he and Buck finally get together, Henren will say something along these lines again, I'm certain of it.

And that's the end of this episode! It was such an emotional ride! I loved everything they did with Maddie and Chimney, and the Buddie plot was so fun! I had a blast, and I'm so excited for next week! I get the feeling the latter half of the season is gonna dive deeper into Eddie's storylines. Yay!

#911 abc #buddie #911 analysis #911 meta #buddie meta #BuckTommy #buck x eddie #meta

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potatoplace · 24 days

Text

You Can Have It - Chapter 1

Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader

chapter 2 | series masterlist

Story Summary: You've been a baker for 75 years, and are finally moving on from the Winter Court to the City of Velaris to start your own bakery after your grandmother passes. After your grand opening, the High Lord and Lady of Night become daily visitors to your bakery for months, every day having your most popular pastry- one that increases fertility for a short time. All the while, the two alphas want nothing more than to call themselves yours.

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, death (brief and non graphic), most likely a LOT of future smut, this is a pregancy plot fic so keep that in mind

Words: ~4.2k

*Reader is a half peregryn, half high fae, presenting as a peregryn with white wings, with white blonde hair and ice blue eyes from her Winter Court father

*Title taken from Chelsea Cutler's 'You Can Have It,' I feel like the general vibe of the song works well with how Feysand will react to reader (with less alcohol)

Author's Note: It's heeeere I'm so happy! No Feyre or Rhys yet, but we'll get there in the next chapter or two. I'm so excited to build up the bakery and upstairs apartment, and the grand opening will be fun! I hope you guys like this chapter.

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“I love you, Nanna. I’ll never forget you, and all that you taught me. I will miss you so, so much. I’ll see you in the next life, but you go have fun for now. Go make all the pastries that you ever dreamed up, bake and make people happy, just like you did here, Nanna. I love you,” you whispered as your grandmother’s chest stopped moving, her soul leaving with her last exhale. Tears streamed down your face as you kissed her hand one last time.

“Y/N, we need to move her,” Viviane said softly from behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder while avoiding your wing.

“I know,” you sighed, squeezing your Nanna’s hand one last time before standing. She led you out of the room and out of the infirmary altogether, taking you from the place where you had spent months tending to your grandmother as she slowly died, a curse that was spilling through her veins for so many years.

“Have you packed everything yet?” Viviane asked you as the two of you walked back to your quarters near the kitchens.

“Everything besides what I use daily, but it shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes. Are you still willing to winnow me?”

“Of course, Y/N. I wouldn’t have anyone else do it, not after all you’ve done for us,” Viviane reassured you with smile. The two of you were already at your room, and Viviane stood in the doorway as you packed up the rest of your things. “You know you could go to one of the villages nearby, or even have your own shop in the market here. You don’t have to move out of the court…”

You sighed. The two of you have had this conversation multiple times, the outcome always the same: you’re still leaving. “I know, Viviane. And I would stay, if… if everything wouldn’t remind me of her. She’s been my only family for the majority of my life, the reason I lived here, knew you in the first place. I can’t… I can’t see her ghost around every corner, right now.”

“Well… If you ever want to come back, you know we’ll be happy to have you, no matter what. And don’t even think about trying to repay us, I will have Kallias send the gold straight back to you if you do,” Viviane said as she watched you. “And you promise to write to us and let us know when you’re ready for us to visit, yes? Your shop does not even need to be open for us to visit, your company is worth the travel.”

“Yes, Viviane, as soon as I feel settled I’ll write you for a visit.” You had finished packing, your belongings fitting in two leather travel bags. All of your life you had rebuilt in the past six years was now contained to such a tiny space.

You took one last, longing glance around the room that had been your home for the past six years, and the first twenty five of your life as well. So many memories, most of them happy and including your grandmother. Loosing a sigh, you finally turn to Viviane and pick your bags up.

“I’m ready.”

Viviane came to your side and grabbed your arm, and then the two of you were slipping through the fabric of the world, making a few quick stops between the Winter Court and your destination. Your new home.

Velaris, the City of Starlight.

In the five years since the victory against Hybern, the city had been opened to visitors and, in select cases, new citizens. You were lucky enough that Viviane is friends with Morrigan, and that you were employed by and friends with Viviane. She was able to secure you the right to move to the city, and a business license that was cleared pending an interview with Morrigan on your arrival. In less than a minute, the two of you were outside of a cozy looking townhouse, set on a busy residential street and near the river that split the city in two. There was a thin layer of snow covering the ground, and the city looked like a winter wonderland.

Viviane raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door had swung open, revealing a gorgeous blonde woman in a red dress and high heels with a wickedly sharp heel that would most likely cause you to topple over. Her scent, cinnamon and a sweet citrus, was calming, and very clearly alpha.

“Viviane! I’m so glad you could make it!” The blonde, Morrigan you assume, embraces your friend tightly for a few seconds before letting her go and turning to you. “And you must be Y/N! Welcome the Velaris, I do hope the city ends up being what you’re looking for.” Her tone was sweet and excited, and her chocolate brown eyes held such warmth that you couldn’t help but trust her.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Morrigan. Viviane has told me so much about you,” you say as you take her hand in yours for a handshake.

“Oh, call me Mor dear, Morrigan makes me feel like I’m being scolded! Now, come in, we’ll get that pesky little interview out of the way and then we can go take a little tour of the city, maybe find you a place for your bakery.”

The two of you follow her inside, and you’re struck by how… cozy and homey the house was. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, what with your opinions on the Night Court having shifted drastically in the past few years, but this was definitely one of the best outcomes.

Hopefully you would be able to find a space to create as your own, make it feel just as if not more welcoming than this house.

“Sit, sit,” Mor says as she leads the two of you into a sitting room, taking your bags and setting them on the floor next to a couch, before taking a seat on the chair opposite it. Viviane sits on the plush couch, and you follow suit, the lower back of the couch perfect for your wings to rest over. “So Viviane tells me you want to start a business here in Velaris?”

You nod your head in confirmation. “Yes, I would like to open a bakery, if there is availability for a new one in the city.”

Mor smiles, and it’s warm, like sunshine. “I’m sure we can find a suitable place not too close to another bakery or café. Viviane has told me you have experience in the baking field?”

You swallow, a lump suddenly in your throat. You’d known this would come up, it was inevitable, after all. “Yes. I was the head baker Under the Mountain for thirty years, after my grandmother had irritated Amarantha one too many times. I was her pastry sous chef assistant for the twenty years before that as well, and I started baking at six years old.”

“And how old are you now?” Mor asked.

“I am 81, currently,” you answered quickly. “I hope that isn’t an issue?”

“Oh, no, no,” Mor shook her head. “I am sorry to hear that you were forced to work for Amarantha for so much of your life. I do hope that you find working in Velaris to be much more fulfilling, and nicer.”

“I- Are you offering me a business license? Just like that?” You asked incredulously.

“Yes, I am Y/N. Kallias and Viviane have both vouched for you, they believe that you are more than capable of running your own business. And they’ve told me that you take care of the baked goods for all of the High Lord’s household. I trust that you will be successful, based on their testimony alone. Hearing that you worked Under the Mountain, though…” Mor paused. “Knowing that, as well, you will be a fine business owner.”

An invisible weight was lifted off of your shoulders. You are a resident and future business owner of Velaris now. “Thank you, Mor. This opportunity means so much time,” you say gratefully.

“It’s no problem, Y/N. Now, would you like a tour of Velaris and to see where you’ll be staying for the moment?” Mor asked as she stood from her chair.

You followed suit, smoothing the skirt of your dress as you did. “That would be lovely, Mor. Viviane, are you able to join us?”

“No, I should be getting back to Kallias soon, we still have a few winter parties to finish planning and he prefers to have my input,” Viviane replied, following you and Mor out of the townhouse. She stepped toward you for one last hug, holding you tightly in her arms until you pull away. “If you need anything, Y/N, write to me.”

“I will, Viviane. Thank you, for everything.” Tears pricked your eyes, even though you know you’ll see your friend again, likely in the next couple of months. “I’ll write to you even if I don’t need anything, too, keep you updated on my life here, Viv.”

She lets go of your arms, stepping back slightly. “You’d better, Y/N. I want to know all the juicy details, especially if you find an alpha,” Viviane said teasingly. The other omega knew how badly you craved to have an alpha, a love strong enough to tie you together and eventually have a family with them. The sex of the alpha doesn’t matter to you, just that it’s someone who understands you, and values you despite your submissive personality and ‘lesser fae’ status, someone that you love equally.

“I’ll make sure to keep you informed on that front as well, Viv,” Mor chuckled, and you threw a playful glare in her direction. “What? I figure you might like to have a friend here, and I have to warn you, I’m a bit of a gossip.”

Viviane laughed, “‘A bit’ is an understatement, Mor. Take good care of my girl, okay?” Mor nodded, giving Viviane a hug as well before the silver haired female winnowed away.

“We’ll leave you bags in the townhouse for now, I’ll come back and get them later for you once you’re settled in your hotel,” Mor says, taking you by the arm and walking away from the townhouse, leaving you no choice but to follow. She took you first to the Palace of Bone and Salt, a commercial area dedicated to fresh and dried meats, spices, baking goods, along with any cookery and bakeware you could ever need.

There were a few shops already that you were dying to go in to, you’d never had much of a chance to pick out your own pieces of bakeware, let alone enough to stock a bakery. There were so many different options that you wanted to explore, but you knew you could wait to lose yourself in the possibilities until you were alone. Next Mor showed you a few shops, ones for clothing items, bedding, shoes. A bar named Rita’s, which she promises to take you to after you’ve settled. Then her favorite restaurant, a small, cozy placed named after its owner and chef, Sevenda. The heavenly smells coming from the windows were enough to convince you to return for takeout later tonight, even without Mor’s enthusiastic recommendation.

And then you were in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. A section of town dedicated entirely to fabrics in every shade of every color imaginable, huge tables covered in glittering gems, an amount of wealth you had never seen displayed so casually before. People were milling about, and you tucked your wings as close to your back as you could manage, not wanting strangers to brush against them any more than necessary.

There were a few shops dedicated solely to custom gowns, their displays filled with gorgeous dresses decorated with intricate embroidery and small gemstones that shined like the stars. You had never before considered wearing such fine clothing, but now you wanted to feel the slip of the fabric over your body, experience how it feels to be dressed like a princess.

Someday. Someday I will save enough money, and buy a beautiful gown, all by myself, you promised yourself as you let Mor lead you across a bridge on the Sidra to the next Palace.

This one was the Palace of Flame and Steel, a district reserved for weaponry, armor, building materials and tools, as well as a few competing construction guilds. Mor guided you to one of them, apparently the one that the High Lord and Lady had trusted to build their new home next to the Sidra.

“Ah, Marcus, I would like for you to meet Y/N,” Mor said, and Marcus extended his hand to you. His scent was soft, pine trees and fallen snow- an alpha. You take it, noticing his strong but gentle grip. Your shoulders relax slightly, wings spreading slightly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Marcus said in a friendly voice.

“The same to you, Marcus,” you reply, a slight dusting of pink on your cheeks. He is rather handsome, for a High Fae.

“She will more than likely be needing your services, Marcus. Y/N here is planning to open a bakery somewhere in town in the next couple of months,” Mor informed him with a bright smile, one that he flashed back at her, and then turns it toward you. Your breath catches slightly in your throat, and you instinctively smile back at him.

“That sounds nice, I always enjoy a new place to eat at,” He said, still grinning at you.

“Well, once I’m up and running you’ll be more than welcome to drop in whenever you want.”

“I’ll look forward to that day, Y/N. Come back once you know where you’d like to build or renovate, and we can draw up some plans together, okay?”

You nod your head in agreement. “I’ll make sure to do that, Marcus. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you Marcus,” Mor said as she led you out of the shop and back towards the Sidra. Once you were a few buildings down, she asked, “So, do you think he’s cute?”

Your face flushed, and you managed to push out an “I suppose…”

“He’s pretty niiice,” Mor sings, still tugging you along the road next to the Sidra. “And he doesn’t have an omega.”

You shake your head at Mor. “I know Viviane mentioned me finding an alpha, but that’s not really my goal at the moment Mor. And I can also find my own alphas,” You say lightly, tugging on her arm as you did. “Also, you move fast, already trying to set me up.” Mor laughed at that, and you giggle a bit as well as the two of you continue walking, passing cute houses and apartments as you do.

“Well, you’re possibly the cutest single omega in the city at the moment, and Marcus truly is a kind male. And you needed to meet him anyways, for any building needs related to your bakery.” Mor stopped in her tracks, holding you in place by your arm. “This, is the Rainbow,” Mor announces to you.

You gaze around, taking in the colorful buildings that housed everything from painting studios to dance halls. You spied quite a few art supply stores and pottery shops as well, everything so beautiful that your eyes couldn’t choose just one place to land.

Mor draws you further in to the artistic section of town, walking more slowly than any other area you’d gone through today, and you had your wings tucked in tight behind you to avoid brushing against the other fae. Your eyes catch finally on a beautiful painting, one of a cosmic green light fall in the night sky, and you stop moving, taking in every brush stroke on the canvas as quickly as you could. It took your breath away, it was such a magnificent rending of something you could only wish to witness.

“Ah, that is the High Lady’s rendition of Starfall this year,” Mor tells you once she saw where your eyes had locked onto. “Feyre is a magnificent artist, she even hosts classes whenever she has the time, if you’re interested.”

You tear your eyes from the painting to look at Mor. “Oh, I don’t think I’d be any good, really. The most my artistic skills stretch beyond baking is for sketches of my baking,” you laughed, turning to continue your tour once more. “And I’d like to get the bakery up and running before I do many extracurriculars.”

“That makes sense, I suppose, but it’s a good thing to keep in mind. Feyre lets me sneak wine in, so even if my painting turns out terrible, I still have a great time.” The two of you were near the end of the colorful street when you spotted it.

The perfect location, right next to the river and on the edge of the Rainbow was a small one story building, a for sale sign in the window. The building looked decrepit, nearly ready to fall down in your opinion.

You pulled Mor in the direction of it, and let go of her arm to walk around the back of the building.

The view was absolutely lovely, the noise of the river soothing to your ears. You stretched out your wings as you closed your eyes and just listened for a moment, ignoring the noise of the people behind you. Snow was covering the open space behind the building, mostly untouched compared to the streets you had been walking on with Mor.

“Would I be able to buy this lot?” You asked Mor as you spun to face her. “This feels like the perfect place- and there aren’t any other cafés in the Rainbow, as far as I could tell.”

“Of course, Y/N. This building just went up for sale, as well, the previous owner retired a couple of weeks ago.”

You smile at Mor, your eyes sparkling brightly. “Just my luck, then. Do you know about how long it would be for the sale to go through?”

“It should take no more than a few days, Auric seemed very ready to get rid of the place. I’ll set up a meeting for the two of you later today, and if it’s not too late I’ll swing by your room and let you know when it will be. But for now, let’s finish out the tour, then I’ll take you to your hotel,” Mor suggested, holding out an arm.

You grab it once more, allowing her to take you to the last Palace in the city- the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, dedicated to more meats, as well fish, fruits, and vegetables. There were stalls with vendors cooking street food, bowls of noodles and burritos that all smelled delicious- you would definitely be coming back here to try something from each and every fae.

While you were well acquainted with nearly every type of baked good and dessert, different styles of cooking were something you hadn’t been exposed to very often before being trapped Under the Mountain. And while there, you were lucky to get anything besides the imperfect bread you would make.

And after all those years, you had just wanted to taste something familiar, so you stuck with the Winter Court fare you had as a child for the past six years.

But now, smelling everything here and Sevenda’s restaurant? You wanted nothing more than to taste every type of food that you could. Perhaps you would even think of new pastries in the process.

Soon enough, the two of you were back at the townhouse you had arrived in front of with Viviane. Mor popped inside quickly, returning with your bags. She passed one to you as she said “Now that you’ve seen the main parts of Velaris, it’s time to get you to your hotel room so you can relax a bit, settle in some.”

You both crossed the Sidra again, right as snow began to fall. You looked around, taking in the sight of glistening snow, your favorite weather in the world, falling onto the beautiful city that you could now call your own.

“It’s beautiful,” you blurted out without thinking. “Does Velaris suit every season so well?”

Mor looked at you from the corner of her eye, also taking in the scenery. “Yes, it does. I have found every city I’ve visited in Prythian to be beautiful in its own right, but Velaris seems to capture the beauty of every season the best. Of course, I am terribly biased, being from the Night Court and all,” Mor laughed.

She stopped in front of a large building, several floors tall with two balconies on each facing the Sidra. Mor opened the ornately carved wooden door, the words The Sidra Inn engraved on it, revealing a warmly decorated lobby. Behind the reception desk was a slim, bark skinned fae.

“Hello, Mor, it’s good to see you,” the female- a beta- said, extending a hand, which Mor shook readily. Then her eyes turned to you. “And you must be Y/N, our newest resident.” You nod your head in confirmation. “My name is Druana, I’m the owner of this quaint little inn.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Druana.” You take her hand as well, fascinated by the texture of her bark skin. “From what I’ve seen so far, your inn feels like home. It’s very warm, inviting.”

The fae smiles at you. “Thank you, Y/N. If you’re ready, I’ll show you to your room.” You look to Mor, who hands you your second bag.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours, Y/N. And if I don’t come by then, I’ll send a letter telling you what time I’ve arranged for you to meet with Auric. Do you want me to bring anything for you when I do come? Any food, clothing, nesting materials?”

Heat creeps up your neck at the last idea. “No, Mor, thank you though. I should be fine, for now. I’ll see you in a bit,” you said, parting ways with the friendly blonde.

Druana led you up a set of stairs and in front of a room on the second floor. She handed you a set of keys, then walked back the way you had come.

You turned the key in the lock, and opened the door to your new home for the foreseeable future. It was spacious, containing a large bed set against the left wall, a dresser, wardrobe, a circular table with two chairs on opposite sides, and your own personal bathroom and kitchenette. It was all decorated in cozy fall colors, reds and oranges and browns everywhere, and a fireplace against the right wall. Opposite the door was a set of double doors, likely leading out to one of the balconies you had seen from the street. You dropped your bags on the floor next to the bed, and went to look at the bathroom, it’s door next to the fireplace.

It was lovely, a deep tub that you knew would fill enough so that you could sink entirely beneath the water. There was also a large counter with two sinks, a large mirror hung above it on the wall. And of course, a toilet that looked suitable enough.

You returned to the bedroom, walking over to the set of doors and pushing them open.

On the street, you hadn’t been able to see the padded rocking chair and small table, but now that you had, you knew you would be reading in it, protected from most of the snow by the small roof covering the patio.

You went back inside, grabbing a romance novel that you had picked up a couple of months ago, but had never gotten around to reading. You also pulled a blanket from the bed.

Being from the Winter Court had given you a mild immunity to freezing weather, it was much more comfortable to sit covered in a blanket.

Before you went back on the balcony, your eyes snagged on the kitchenette- already laying out were a few boxes of tea. You placed the book and blanket on the bed and walked over to the counter.

You looked through the flavors before deciding on a basic green tea. In a few minutes you had brewed a large mug for yourself, and took it and your book and blanket onto the balcony.

You snuggled down into the chair, careful to position your wings so they weren’t squished or pinched anywhere. The blanket came next, and you wrapped it around your legs and dress as much as you could, then over your right arm.

With your left, you spread the book open, happily diving in to the story about childhood friends slowly growing to love each other romantically.

Friendship before love- that could be nice, you thought to yourself as you read, sipping your tea and looking out over the beautiful view of Velaris in front of you.

And now, most likely, you would be able to meet people who didn’t already know you as the tortured omega baker slaving away for Amarantha to keep her grandmother and Court as safe as possible.

Now, people would know you as the omega baker from the Winter Court, hopefully with a cozy bakery and the best pastries that they’ve ever had.

You lost yourself in the book, hoping the entire time that you would find a love to last you forever.

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