#like yes i get a little lonely sometimes being the main one screaming about the Bloodborne Crows around here but?? am i gonna stop??

[ohlookanothercartoontofallinto]

Finally able to discuss this idea! So yes, 

Vigilante Wind au with the rest of the chain as heroes that want to adopt him! This would be set in a Modern/Fantasy setting. 

Let’s start with the main boy Wind, Wind would have grown up on a small island that the kingdom and the royal family didn’t really care about. He would have lived with his parent's Grandma and Aryll. Until a typhoon hit the island and destroyed everything. Wind was the lone survivor, because of his natural born powers that kept him safe. Before anyone from the mainland could get to him, Wind would be kidnapped by the Yiga organization. Becoming one of the experiments of a project known as project sheik and becoming number 745360. His fellow prisoner would be 7488110, a little kokiri boy whose real name is Makar, and 518110 a rito girl whose real name is Medli. Wind would become super protective of his co-prisoners and do everything he could to protect them from the scientist. Even if it means giving himself up for more experiments. Not all the people are bad though, slowly but surely he grows attached to an employee who has no idea what’s going on in the organization. A man that goes by the name  Linebeck. 

Linebeck, is just really, really stupid and has no idea the children are being experiment on. He is led to believe the children just have a rare disease. Resulting in him being compassionate to the kids and developing a kinship with Wind. He finally realizes something is up when Wind is forcibly dragged to  a room, while coughing up blood. When he saw linebeck Wind would cry and call for him.  “LINEBECK PLEASE! PLEASE DON’T LET THEM HURT ME PLEASE LINEBECK! LINEBECK!” The boy's scream rang out as he was dragged through the door. The old captain, rushing towards the door. “I’m sorry sir but I can not allow you to enter.” The guard halted the man’s entrance. Linebeck did not allow that to be an answer. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO MY KID!”  

After that linebeck would look into what was really going on and find everything. Deciding then and there to save the kids. He get in contact with Makar, and Medli families who were still alive, and made a plan to help all three of them disappear, using an old friend of his. Only on the day of the escape, something happened. They had successfully gotten away from the building, with the help of the children's powers, only at the last minute the alarms started blaring forcing Linebeck to pick up the kids and go. Handing Rito and Kokiri back to their families and handing Wind off to his friend Jolene. He was planning on going back to the building to make him look less suspicious. Wind protested and cried because he wanted Linebeck to come with them now. In an attempt to comfort the child he took off his blue trench coat and wrapped it around his boy. Whispering “We’ll be together again soon…I promise.” 

He lied. 

Two years would pass since that day, and Wind would become part of a Vigilante group known as the Pirates. Composed of the Pirate Queen Jolene (Jolene), Nest their tech man (Niko), Canon their muscle (gonzo). Then Gallows & Gale, Tetra and Wind. Tetra is actually the second youngest princess of the kingdom, but became friends with wind by chance when he saved her as Gales from a assassination attempt.  If you're wondering what Gales looks like he has white hair, wears Linebeck's coat he was gifted, and a black mask that wraps completely around his face with gold paint that resembles the hero's charm on the front.  His powers of course are controlling the Winds, only because of the experiments he's incredibly unstable so he has to be careful. Sometimes because of his powers it takes the air from his lungs so he can't breath and needs an oxygen mask, and sometimes he loses control and just makes a tornado. 

As for the rest of the chain. 

Crimson Rider aka Sky A hero who tamed a legendary bird and now patrols the cities.  Sky is actually the main reason they realised Wind was nice. One day during a battle Crimson was falling with sky and Wind saved them using his powers. 

Deity aka Time/Old man He controls time, and can somehow shapeshift. Was not always known as Deity, when he was a child he was known as the sidekick Mask. To the superhero Fierce Deity, who tragically passed. In honor of his fallen partner he took on the name Deity. One of the few Heroes who married someone who is not involved at all in the hero world or political world, but that's how he likes it. 

Captain Aka Warrior  Think if Sailor moon and Captain planet and America fused. This is warrior. 

Genie Aka Legend/Vet  Has 5 magical rings and 2 magical gauntlets that he can wish upon once to get any power for that day, then resets the next day. Will say he turns into a Siren a lot.  

R-G Biv aka Four or Red Blue Green Vio Shadow  Shadow is considered indigo. They were five brothers who could become one or five as well as shrink. Until tragedy stuck and Indigo was killed during a battle.  Leaving only four, and none of them had the heart to remove the I from their name. 

Wild Card aka Wild/Champion  He's like Ben Ten with the Shieka slate as a watch, but instead of shapeshifting he's given at random different weapons or items. Kind of similar to Legend only, absolutely no shapeshifting allowed. Outfits on the other hand. He also just can't die like literally someone shot him but his body refused to react. 

White Cross aka Hyrule  He's a healer, what did you expect? He prefers to be at H.Q. but when he's forced to fight he turns into a moth fairy hybrid and acts like the hulk. 

The Engineer aka Spirit (emphasis on the The) This kid is scary smart when it comes to technology. Figured out how to build a car at six. And was the one who built Wild's watch, and adds more weapons to it. Doesn't normally fight but when he does prepared to be smacked by a train.

Shaded Knight aka Twilight  Is actually Malon's younger brother. Who got dragged into this world because of Mask by accident. Yes he can shapeshift into a wolf. However he naturally had super strength, and is a beast with a crossbow. 

Dang did not mean to make it this long. If you guys have any questions please feel free to ask. It helps me develop this more or if you're just confused.

Also when you imagine Linebeck please think of @smilesrobotlover when I started picturing the scene with him all I could see was how she draws him 

Anyways I hope you enjoyed it and will explain more later. 

[carnivoreofthesea]

in your swap AU; how does pike wizard/amber, slime wizard/goobert and most importantly (the precious and need to be protected) lonely wizard would look like ?

are they now grimora's pupils now or still with mags but they are now undead ?

HI OK IM SO EXCITED TO ANWSER THIS BECAUSE I AM SOOO SO NORMAL ABOUT IT HEHAHDJAKDJADJ!!!

THERES A LOTOF STUFF UNDER THE CUT

So with magmento (mags), I did originally plan to have his pupils be in the crypt but it was getting too long. They're grimmoras pupils traits, But they have His students names and a few key features.

Pike wizard -> Decapitated Scholar

"Do not pity me, It was all worth my while."

Being a mortician before she died, She had made new ways to cremate the dead and be preserved longer. However she ended up dying from a mixture of chemical poisoning after inhaling some of the ingredients used in said embalming and an unfortunate accident. Her skin had become more frail and she had restered her head on one of the spikes on her fence. Poor baby got impailed without even realising it :[. She hopes that she could use her body to make a less deadly way of preservation, To no avail yet. She looks pretty similar to normal Amber but instead of a helmet she wears a mourning veil! Also her little spike is a singular fence post that looks a lot more fancy. She has the same concept as Amber, Hurting herself to be more appreciated by her scrybe (although its more the concept of death she was trying to pay respects to) and still being in servitude when the player comes.

Goobert (my baby boy <3) -> Goo pile

"Please, Please! Arghhhh... Battle me! I'm promise I am more than just a gnarled mess!"

Died in a horrible accident, Something that contorted and squished him past being recognized. His death was more famous than the life he lived, So now he strives to be remembered for something other than his death! He's trying so hard, please just give him affection :[. a lil kissie on the head for always trying new things and working to be good at them! He looks pretty similar to goobert, if not more. Gross <3. I’M SORRY BUT HE WOULD BE NASTY… He would be a pile of just random sludge and liquids, if you’re lucky you could find bits of melted skin? Purrrhapes his ghostly body would piece itself together but even then he would look like a nasty little pile of grossness. I love you babay… but you are nasty.. I would still hold him though!! Just put the goofy goober in a jar again please.

Lonely wizard (ALSO MY BABAY!!) -> Loney Dominguez

"PLAY A GAME! PLEASE?! I need something to do!"

He was quite young when he died, Being a coma was terrible considering he was such a rambunctious kid! He couldnt see or hear or move, but he could feel his body and think. Even when he died, Magmento trapped him in his coffin out of fear. He's not good with kids... Especially ones that are 6 FEET TALL. That may have been related to his death but I haven't decided yet. Also think of just a huge coffin that's hidden away under the main room, the player finds it and he’s just like. “Oh yeah, that's the crazy kid, He bites. I think.” And then you just see the coffin violently shake and scream. He has normal anatomy and would just be a very VERY rotting body. Like yes, he has formed, just melty and turning into goop. Maybe a few bugs live with him so he isn’t as lonely… Also think it would be funny if he still had a hyper fixation about wizards out of spite. Let my baby like his wizards damnit.

James cobb -> James Hobbes

"Oh neat. A player, Let's do it."

A mellow player who died... How did he die? His tombstone says he drowned but he doesn't have any signs of it like the others do. In fact he might even tell you that it's fake. He won't tell you how he actually died but as long as it solves the puzzle who cares? He's probably the most normal guy you'll meet, Also is very tired. Like. let the guy nap. please. strangely modern. Uses slang and sometimes makes suggestive comments but he's a baby girl for that. He’s actually a fairly healthy corpse, Only slightly pale and occisonally goes stiff. His hands are deathly cold but at least his hair is still a bright red. Good for him! Good for him :].

GRIMETHS ARE SO SILLY PDSUIAUFHIUFHW MANIC LAUGHTER

James Cobb -> Kaycee Cobb

“Don’t you wonder what’ll happen? C’mon, I wanna find out.”

IM TALKING F. R. E. AY KAYYYY. SHE IS MY FAVORITE CAN YOU TELL BATTING MY EYELASHES SO MUCH WHEN I TALK ABOUT HER. ANyways she’s the sillayest wizard ever. She doesn’t take herself seriously and just straight up tells the player that she enjoys being stuck in there. Its literally her dream and she uses magic to fuck herself up. She can finally have gender goals of occasionally turb herself into whatever the fuck she wants! Don't like feeling of skin? SIMPLY BECOME A SKINLESS BEING FOR A LIL! god i love her sm… She definitely indulges in the whole wizard shit and has a whole over the top outfit. other than that still very greasy <3

Lonely wizard -> Royal Wizard (GOD I LOVE HIM)

“YARGGGG! WATCH ME SKILLS, YE LANDLUBBER!!”

Oh my god. Peek tism. Category five tism events. He's a pirate obsessed wizard who has a problem with summoning things. Specifically. a ford f150. vehicular manslaughter never ends. He's very confident in his skills and thinks he should be a head wizard or at the very least a card, However he can only do a few spells… God he’s so silly I love him. He's a low poly pirate that I’m thinking of making black. give mah boy some pirate dreads!!! Why? Because IT LOOKS COOL. Anyways he locked away in a ship in a bottle by Grimeth as a “final test”. He's never getting out.

Goobert -> Stinking mass

“Ohhhh… Yes… Perhaps I’ll cast a spell that will finally make me disappear..”

Oughhh… Gender dysophoria baby… I love you poor baby. Turned himself into a pile of… Something? Honestly he doesn't even know. His final test is to turn back, And he’s trying real hard! The thing is, It would probably be easier if he was going to transform into who originally was but he didn't like how liked he looked… He wants to transform into something better to prove himself to be better than how he looked. god my baby. i need to hold him.

Bone lord -> Eye.

Need I say more? Its a painted eye in a black room that speaks in fucking wing dings.

[bambinotattoo]

Hello all my babies, bedwetters, pants wetters, adult babies, and etc etc. hi! Just me again. Your lonely diapered stinker Eric. I have been so down lately, really wanting to be babysat and can’t seem to find any one wiling to. Pretty common.

So this is the EXACT picture I posted to my Tattoo Business page Instagram. Lmfao. Talk about humiliation, but hey…weirder things have worked. I guess my thought process is “maybe one of my really good clients will be all like (awww. I want to help him). Of course, that’s a pipe dream. So the main conclusion I was afforded was the embarrassment of yet another “I wear diapers and am sissy diaper boy” screams from the rooftop.

The other day will working I did have a funny and embarrassing moment I thought all of you all would Appreciate.

In the middle of a session I got up to take a break and was stretching a little as my back was tightening up. While doing that one of the wings of my daytime diaper had become unhinged and was totally beginning to peak out! My daytime selection right now are AbUniverse Cushies. I like the low noise, thin design, and 2 tapes…and if I need too, I can always stuff with a booster. (Which I almost always do). My client that day was a mid twenties school teacher,we have worked together on several projects and have grown quite fond of each other. We had the open kind of dialogue between us that meant just about nothing was off limits. Now, most of my clients now of my diapers either from post like this, or from some hater trying to belittle me be spreading the word that I wear diapers. She was aware, but never talked about it. Until…

“Eric, I think…um…yea, I think your “dia—per is um, well…” and pointed at my waistline

Too my horror, before looking down I instinctively ran my hand down and swiftly tucked the crinkly tab back in and looked up blushing.

“I’m sorry, that happens sometimes. Lol”. I said

“No worries man, it’s all good. I just wasn’t sure how to say anything. Lol”. Jennifer replied

After a few awkward smiles and chuckles we sat back down and began to chip away at what we were working on. When out of nowhere she makes the bold decision to start asking questions…

“So, you really wear those everyday…huh. I mean like, if you don’t wear them, you would like…um, wet your pants?? I don’t mean to be offensive, I’m just curious” Jennifer asked inquisitively

“Lmfao, your fine. And your not being offensive in the least! But yes, that is the gist…I have been diaper dependent for quite a while. It sucks sometimes, but I have paved a way to make the best out of it…and try to not make it define me…unless I want it too!” I answered

“Unless you want it too? What do you mean by that?” Jennifer muffled with interest

“Over the years I have chosen to indulge in the ABDL side of things to help make the diapers more realistic and like enjoyable…if that makes sense” I answered to the best of my being

I was never very good at answering some of those question’s, I mean…yeA, I like being diapered now. I like being changed, baby powder, my wipe warmer, pacifiers, onsies etc etc. you all know how it is. But as soon as I start saying stuff like that to a normal person they immediately claim up and start thinking I’m weird or have some pedo issue. And, as you all know…that’s so far from the truth. At this point I had already started getting excited and antsy and should try and change the subject as soon as possible before I say something I will regret or that will make her turn cold on me. The next exchange blew even me away

“So, what’s this ABDL thing.?” She asked point blank while starring right through me

“It stands for ABDL, that’s Adult Baby Diaper Lover. It can encapsulate everything from someone like me who has to wear diaper, to someone who wants to…either for fun or sexual fetish reason. There is a wide spectrum to be honest. I fall on the weird side of it because I am really excited about being babysat, one day having a mommy, being dressed in toddler clothes, public humiliations, etc…but it is not a sexual thing for me.” I said almost forgetting to have some self check and blurted everything out like pee pee while I’m sleeping.

Jennifer sat there, quietly getting tattooed as I sit there starting to sweat knowing I had just said FAR TOO MUCH.

This is when I decided to try and run things back and salvage what’s left of my dignity lol

“Aww, I’m just playing with ya. Who would do that stuff?!?! Am I right!? Weirdos, that who”. Letting a forced stomach churning chuckle

“Yea, then why do you wear diapers that look like baby diapers? Why not something more conspicuous especially when your working? Jennifer said with no humor in your voice

There it was, to existential blow that would break the camels back. Called out, and in the worst possible way. No hiding it now…what had I done. We sat there in silence for a few seconds when the unthinkable happened.

“Eric, you know I’m just busting your balls, right? I think it’s great you have found a way to cope with your situation. Do you mind if I ask a few questions? Jennifer’s words like song birds in April

“Oh, chuckling, I knew that. Lol. And of course, you are free to ask anything you want!” Eagerly awaiting the curiosities

“So like, do you just wet them or do you like…” as I immediately blurted out

“Yes, oh yes…just pee pee. I have urinary incontinence or urge incontinence. Life long bedwetter, even now, and been having daytime accidents since my early teens. So yea, no number 2.” I immediately cleared that rumor

“Okay, cool cool. So what’s like your favorite baby thing or things to help you feel more normal”. “Not normal, I’m sorry, Eric your normal…lol”. Jennifer asked blushingly

This is where I needed to be straight forward and precise. No beating around the bush…and definitely no going to far. I have a horrid habit of over sharing when it comes to me diaper life

“I really love thick diapers. Thick diapers with booster pads, and LOTS of baby powder…I freaking love baby powder. I like onsies, they keep my diaper in place cause Eric doesn’t have an ass, lol”. I have grown fond of pacifiers and footed jammeies and would give my left arm to have a full time\live in Mommy to always change me, baby me, and hire me sitters when ever she went out”. As soon as I stopped talking, I knew I had over shared again.

To my surprise, Jennifer looked up sheepishly and started blushing… “okay, I think I get it. So are you wet right now”. Jennifer asked with the confidence of a seasoned caregiver eager to hike down my pants and perform a diaper check

“Um, oh gosh…well…lol…you seee what ha happened was…I kinda am always dribbling a little. That’s how it works. I don’t just pee all at once and it’s done. It weird to explain. I answered to the best of my ability

“Okay then, we can have you sitting in that stinky diaper Mr….do you have a change with you? Maybe a diaper bag”. Jennifer said smiling ear to ear

“Um, why?” I asked intently

“Because we don’t want you getting a rash on your bum bum, do we? Where’s your diaper stuff” Jennifer wipe eyes and bushy tailed

“Oh Jennifer, you don’t have to do that…really, it’s okay.” I clumsily whispered

“Did I ask for your permission, No…I asked for your diaper bag”. Jennifer now with extreme seriousness

I do as a matter or fact, keep a diaper bag with me most days. And that day was no different. However, I never kept daytime diapers in it, only my super banish thick diapers and a couple boosters. As well, I usually have a onsie in there too. Things were escalating very fast

“Okay, my diaper bag is by my backpack, in the corner.” I replied while my voice quickly changing frequencies

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere” Jennifer said as she grabbed my sissy bag and began rummaging through it

“Oh, wow…there are really pretty baby boy, all pink and thick. And what are these princesses? How cute, and what’s this? No way, is this a onsie?!?! That’s so fucking adorable!!! It matches the diaper perfectly! And what are these?” As she began to remove the three Rearz over night boosters from the bottom of my bag

“Those, are um…diaper stuffers, or boosters. To like make them thicker and more absorbent…and also to make the feel more like I’m wearing a thick baby diaper”. I began to almost feel sick to my stomach while answering. All the bad feelings, horrible comments, years or shame, and etc just poured out of me. I began to sob, uncontrollably apologizing for nothing just trying to catch my breathe. All the while, as always when I’m getting embarrassed my bladder started leaking pee pee and filling the remaining balance of the thin Cushie.

Jennifer immediately felt bad, coming to consult me and trying to calm me down.

“Oh Eric, I. So sorry…I was trying to be in to it, I wasn’t trying to make you feel some type of way…I’m so sorry” Jennifer said while rubbing my back.

After a few minutes I began to calm down, and we needed to get back to work. So I stood up to collect myself when Jennifer and I both got a surprise we weren’t expecting…

“Oh…baby, honey…you think, I know you may need to…yea” and pointed down towards my now soaked and LEAKING diaper.

Upset, embarrassed, and now I’m standing there 4 feet away, big wet spot from my crotch to my lower thigh. Maybe the worst leak I’ve EVER had…and now of all times. I again became upset, and frozen with fear. What happened next, will down as the most excited/most humiliated I’ve ever been at once

“Eric, baby boy…lay down” Jennifer said as if she uttered those very words before.

I just stood there speechless staring through her not sure how to move, when Jennifer put her hand back into my diaper bag and pullled put my pacifier. And before I had a chance to refuse, I was pacified, and directed to the floor where Jennifer began to un button my pants.

All I could do was lay there and suck my paci, I was in shock. Before too long I was laying there wearing nothing but a soaked diaper while my tattoo client for the day removed all the items for a diaper change.

“Okay buddy…please just lay there and stay calm. We’re going to get you out of that stinky diapee and into a fresh clean one with your cute booster pads and lots of powder, okay? And if your behave, I will let you wear your onsie too, does that sound good little boy?” Jennifer said with the confidence of an experienced adult baby nanny.

Jennifer had never changed an adult diaper…she was obviously out of her depths, but that didn’t stop her. She found the tabs on either side of my hip and pulled them free letting the cool air breeze over my very wet baby dick and socking wet diaper. I was starring at her figuring things out, and would normally jump in offering to help…since it was her first time doing this. But as I began to remove my pacifier and wipe some tears away she immediately snapped…put my paci back it and told me to settle down, and enjoy myself.

I did as I was told and again was starring at her as she got some wipes out and began to clean and cleanse my diaper area. She began wiping and moving things around while smiling devilishly, I knew she was enjoying my tiny baby dick. I have always had sitters, hell even my own mother tell me how adorable it is that my pee pee marched my need for diapers. I’m small. She continued to wipe and wipe me jumping every time to cold wipes touched me as I was used to the warm wipes from my warmer. She had me left my legs and butt and began to throughly clean EVERYTHING, even making a little comment about how it’s could I have a clean booty hole.

I was doing pretty good at starting the process of calming back down about the time she removed the soiled diaper and had me lift up to put the new Pink Princess diaper under me. Followed by not one, not two, but All three Boosters I had with me. I was going to waddle so bad. Before grabbing the powder, which she remembered I like a lot of…she grabbed one of my gloves and opened my tube of diaper rash ointment. I again looked at her, and she paid no attention. Only problem was, no I’m calm…and my brain is catching up to what is happening…about that time Jennifer is having a blast smattering me with oint. The ointment I have is some that kinda tingles in all the wrong ways when applied, and she was applying it EVERYWHERE. Just then, nightmares were realized when that little baby dick we mentioned, got to much attention from the wipes, and oint application and started growing.

“Oh. Well we’ll well. Look at that little bugger! Does baby Eric like when I rub his pee pee with diaper rash oint? Jennifer said while continuing to tease and arose me

Again, frozen…I through my pacifier said to just walk away and it will go down”

“What’s the fun in that.” Jennifer smiled and continued exploring my exposed private area

I haven’t been sexually active in several years. Just wasn’t my thing always diapered. So despite my penis becoming active it was all the way active. And after a few seconds Jennifer unprovoked from me told me too..

“Lift up those legs baby boy”

To which I complied totally helpless. Knowing exactly what was happening next. She slowly began to massage the edges of my anus gradually sticking more of her gloved fingers inside me. She looked up to make sure I was okay, and saw just my red teary face yearn for more and more. To which she complied. After a few moments she was 2 fingers deep and locating my prostate. It has been a while since being milked. To be honest, I did really enjoy the process ( one day I am gonna have a cS sitter, and I will have a dream come true, but till then…this was just fine.

She began to forcibly stick and poke my milk spot each pump and movement making me lift my ass up higher and higher…which brought Jennifer much excitement. After seeing how close I was getting, and how long it was taking she sheepishly said “it was cute I don’t have stamina…A diapered sissy shouldn’t”. At the same time to again grabbed my semi flaccid baby dick and began pumping it to the rhythm to which see was punching my prostate. The next thing I know, I see stars and almost black out. I open my eyes just in time to see her dodging the weak and plentiful squirts of baby boy sauce. It had been maybe 2 years since any orgasm at all. ANY. So to say I drained milk for a a few minutes would be an understatement.

Before I knew was happened it was over, my little butt hole red and on fire and my little pee pee still draining hot liquid all over me.

“What a good baby boy, now let’s get you cleaned back up and powdered so we can close this diaper before you have another accident”

Thanks for reading and enjoying this with me. As always, Eric needs a caregiver mommy. I am too cute not to be owned, damnit.

[silverynight]

Can you write a oneshot about the kamboko squad and their mission during the Entertainment District Arc? I could imagine the hashiras just keep on visiting Sumiko. (The poor ladies must be so confused on why Sumiko is so popular 😭.) If you want, you can also write about the boys putting on their make up before the mission. Either way I feel like the chaos would be great >:D (Sorry for my bad english!)

(This is not going to follow the main events of that arc, only Tanjirou posing as a courtesan for another mission)

***

If he's being honest, Tanjirou doesn't think too much about appearances, not even then as he's trying to pretend to be a girl. He just needs to find the demon who's been terrorizing the whole Red District and then go back to his friends.

"You're really pretty, Sumiko," one of the girls (her name is Kana, if he remembers correctly) comments carefully removing Tanjirou's makeup after he's been helping all of them carry heavy stuff around the house. She had said she wanted to pay her back by helping her with something. "You just don't know how to apply makeup. Don't worry, you have me now."

He thanks her sincerely, feeling grateful for the kindness the girl has showed him, but he doesn't even waste his time finding a mirror to look at the final result; he keeps moving around the house, helping all the girls while trying to get new information.

"You're so nice to us, Sumiko!" One of them almost sobs, wrapping herself around him. Tanjirou immediately feels bad again for hiding his true identity from all of them. They deserve so much better. "I really wish you find a nice, wealthy person so they can get you out of here!"

"But you know most of them wouldn't buy a scarred girl," says another, earning glares from the ones around.

"It's alright, really!" Tanjirou assures them with a huge grin. "It means I'll get to stay with you and help you as much as I can!"

Suddenly, he's surrounded by girls in an embrace that for a moment, makes him feel like he's back at home with his family again. He holds back a sob.

When he's back in his room he gets another letter from Zenitsu; despite him being usually talkative in most of them (he mentions Nezuko a lot, which Tanjirou is very much glad about) this just contains a couple of words, which surprises him.

All the hashira found out about your mission.

Tanjirou frowns, looking around to see if there's another page on the ground, another piece of parchment with more information.

He has no idea why Zenitsu thought that was something he should know.

***

Kana is aware the House she was sold into is popular, but she's never seen something like that before.

The first swordsman that arrives both scares the girls and attracts them at the same time; he's the most handsome man they have had in a while and of course everyone around wants to be the one to entertain him.

He's tall and even though he's completely covered from his neck to his feet in some sort of uniform, they all can see he's pure muscle underneath.

He's blond, but has red tips that make him look like a torch all the time. All about him screams fire.

Oh, they all like him.

The woman in charge looks at him with such a pleased expression as soon as she sees the money he's carrying.

"Let me show you the girls..."

Right then though, Sumiko walks out, carrying a huge chair over her shoulders; she leaves it near the entrance. Honestly, that girl is unbelievable strong.

Her dark red hair is a mess, her makeup is already falling off, but her cheeks are still pink because she's been doing nothing but heavy chores since she arrived.

The woman in charge is already pushing her away so the customer doesn't see her (because that woman believes the scar on her forehead is too ugly and therefore no one would ever want her).

"I want that one," the client says without hesitation.

"But she's–"

He purposely ignores her and takes Sumiko in his arms.

For a moment, Kana wonders if she's witnessing what some people call "love at first sight" because the man looks so in love already.

When he walks away with her, she thinks that maybe she'll never get to see Sumiko again and feels a little bit lonely because of it. The girls in the house have really grown fond of her rather quickly.

***

Sumiko returns and the beautiful people keep walking in the place asking about her.

A man with dark hair and deep blue eyes and a permanent neutral expression on his face arrives the next day. He's really handsome, but Kana notices he's less popular among the girls because of his somber demeanor.

"Leave him to me," one of Kana's friends winks. "I love quiet ones."

"I want to see Sumiko," he says, surprising everyone again.

Then, before he takes her, Kana swears she sees a fond smile quirking his lips up as Sumiko beams at him.

"Tomioka-san! Hi! Do you want a report?"

The last sentence doesn't make any sense so Kana convinces herself she just imagined it.

***

They have lost the ability to get surprised; as the third one walks in (a tall man with huge arms and a flamboyant personality) this time, they all know he has come to see Sumiko.

She's really popular now; Kana and her sisters (as she calls the other girls that work with her) have accepted it a while ago. However, they have never felt jealous of her; they really love her, the girl has charmed her way into their hearts with kindness.

"Look at you," the man grins at her; he's so tall he has to kneel in front of her. He's so clearly flirting with Sumiko, Kana has no idea how she isn't a flustered mess already. "So pretty. You look like my future wife."

Sumiko chuckles, like she's used to hearing things like that.

"You're so funny, Uzui-san."

***

It's not unusual to get female customers; many girls arrive at the House, looking for a pretty girl to have some fun with.

No, what surprises them is that the girl is really beautiful; she has long, pink hair and an innocent look on her face that tells Kana she doesn't get to visit that sort of places very often...

Perhaps it's her first time.

However, her shyness vanishes as she sees Sumiko, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her closer before kissing her on the cheek.

Kana gives the other girls a knowing look before they all leave Sumiko and the client alone.

***

Kana counts nine; they're nine loyal customers that only come to see Sumiko. They come really often and sometimes bring her gifts that Sumiko immediately shares with the other girls.

"I think it's more than... physical," Kana mumbles, saying out loud what everyone there has been thinking for a while now. "I think they're in love with you."

"Uh?" Sumiko blinks at her in confusion, after taking a sip of her tea. "What are you talking about?"

"The people that visit you," Kana insists, rolling her eyes. She's never met such an oblivious girl.

"They're just being nice."

Kana decides not to keep bothering her with that and instead asks about something that has been troubling her for a while.

"So... About the one with scars all over his chest," shs mumbles, remembering the first time she saw him; he's handsome, but he always looks like he's about to growl or bite someone. "The one with white messy hair. Is he... Has he been gentle with you?"

Sumiko blushes to the tip of her ears, quickly realizing what she's trying to say.

"It's not like that... Uhh, I m-mean, he's... not usually... He knows how to be kind," Sumiko stammers.

Kana nods, recalling the day; how she begged the master of the House not to let Sumiko go with him, but the woman just huffed that he had the money so they couldn't deny him.

She's glad he's not aggressive with her; part of her knows that he's also in love with Sumiko in his own way.

***

Shinobu can't help but smile fondly at Tanjirou as the boy puts back his haori. He seems happy to be wearing his uniform again, even though all the Pillars think he looked really pretty as Sumiko.

"I'm glad the demon won't hurt anymore people," Tanjirou grins, looking at Muichiro who swoons with delight at the attention. "Thanks for helping me fight him!"

"Anything for you, Tanjirou!"

Next to them, Tengen is already begging Mitsuri to give Tanjirou one of her skirts and assuring her he'll convince him to wear it in the hashira headquarters for their next meeting.

Shinobu rolls her eyes.

"Kocho-san, can I bring some of the girls to the butterfly estate so they can start working there?" Tanjirou asks, eyes opening wide. He looks adorable and he probably doesn't even know it. "Please, they don't like working in that House!"

Shinobu sighs, knowing that by "some" he means anyone who wants to come with him, which is probably all of them.

She doesn't even bother to ask her fellow hashira what they think, because judging by the ridiculous, fond looks on their faces they're ready to say yes to anything Tanjirou asks them.

"Fine. We'll get them out of there."

"Thank you!" Tanjirou beams and she can't help but smile in return as she ruffles his hair.

Kyojuro takes the opportunity to put him over his lap as Giyuu glares at the flame hashira, however, he takes Tanjirou's hand in his before kissing it gently.

They're hopeless; Shinobu has no idea how they didn't ruin the whole mission because none of them could stop paying visits to Sumiko. How did no one notice there was something weird going on there?

***

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[yikesharringrove]

Agitation (or disturbance of the mind)

Here is my piece for the Harringrove Big Bang!! I’m so so proud of how this piece turned out and I’m so excited to share it! @harringrovebigbang

Read on Ao3 (highly recommended. It’s over 16k).

Special thanks to my beta readers @thinger-strang @crispysteve without whom this story would’ve been scrapped in many fits of emotions.

Art for this story to be linked soon by @thedogsled

Check out this amazing moodboard by @memes-saved-me !!

Enjoy!

-

Steve Harrington is a liar. 

He always has been. 

Nearly everything about him is a perfectly crafted facade. 

From the story of his family’s move to Hawkins when he was eight, to the smile that slides easily onto his face when he tells Robin I’m fine. 

Steve is a liar. 

But it's all out of necessity. All for the greater of some good he isn’t all that clear on anymore. 

It was always about protection. 

Protecting his friends and everyone in Hawkins from the truth about Hawkins National Laboratory. 

Then it was about protecting himself from his powers. 

From the way his words had a knack of worming their way into someone’s brain. Of setting up shop inside and clanging around until they could do nothing but bow to his suggestion. 

Just because he could get his way with the right inflection and the telltale shiver down his spine, didn’t mean that that was okay. 

It was drilled into him the first night he arrived in Hawkins. 

After his file was stamped with a large red mark that read defective, he was given to one of the scientists and her husband. 

The Harringtons. 

A normal new family from Eastern Oklahoma. 

That’s what they told everyone. 

That’s what they made sure Steve parroted to everyone in his brand new school. 

His new father took a cigar to the tattoo on his wrist, welting the flesh with an ugly burn. He ignored Steve’s screams and tears. 

You have to fit in here, Steven, he had said, the cigar smoldering between his fingers, Steve clutching his wrist, eyes shining with tears. You have to fit in and be normal. 

So Steve lied. 

He smiled and told everyone he came from a normal family from normal Oklahoma. He said that he lived in a normal house, and read normal books, and played normal sports. 

And he tried, and failed, to convince himself the lab was a dream.

-

“We should do something after this.”

Steve was careful to keep his voice casual. He didn’t want to let Robin in on how much he was dreading returning to his empty house tonight. 

Robin didn’t acknowledge him. She was sorting the returned movies, placing them in piles of genre so they could easily be returned to their proper section. 

Steve quietly lifted his leg, and lightly kicked her hip. 

She glared at him. 

“Quit ignorin’ me. Just say yes, or no.” It’s not like if she said no it would crush him or anything. No. It’s fine. 

“I just have a bunch of homework that’s all, like, due tomorrow,” she said it slowly, as though telling him a beloved relative had died. 

Was it that obvious how lonely he is?

“Don’t worry about it, Buck.” Robin took school real serious. She had perfect grades every year and had already applied to sixteen colleges and universities, including four Ivy League options. 

So Steve didn’t blame her for not skulking around with him. 

With college-less, nowhere bound Steve. 

“I’m really sorry,” she began, getting that sad look in her eye like that night in the mall bathroom when Steve spilled his drugged-out guts. Literally, and metaphorically. 

“Nah, I was just lookin’ for something to do. It’s okay, Robin. Really.”

And it was. 

Almost. 

It’s just that, Steve’s not got a lot going for him right now. 

He’s got a big empty house, and a brain that likes to give him excessive nightmares, and one age-appropriate friend in the whole place. 

But he doesn’t wanna talk about all that shit. 

And Robin looked like there was something on the tip of her tongue. Something her teeth were barely holding back. 

So Steve just scooped up the stack of neatly ordered Action films, and made his way over to the far shelf, taking himself out of the situation before it would get to a place that would only make him lie more and more. 

Robin means well. He knows she does. 

It just feels like a lot of her well-meaning chats end up with Steve lying through his fucking teeth and Robin nearly in tears of frustration at his lack of openness with her. 

She feels like being tortured and drugged together gives them a close kind of kinship very few share. 

Steve feels like he’s got just too much fucked-up baggage to dump on her. 

Not when they’re trying to put the Upside Down behind them. 

Not that Steve could ever put it behind him. 

He felt something build in his gut. Something hot and heavy. Something that always meant his powers were scraping at the walls of the neat little cave he had shut them in. Something that meant his skin would burn until he unleashed some of his pent-up energy. 

He took a deep breath, blowing out the air slowly through his nose. 

He had rules to his power. Rules he had given himself, mostly. Things he’d never use his powers for. 

He tried to avoid his powers at all costs, but he had seen what could happen if he tried to tamp them down. It was less dangerous to open the lid of the box just a tiny bit. 

Especially if he did it right. 

He made his way back over to Robin, finding that spot in his brain that made a shudder zip down his spine. The spot that was made of cold and electric heat. 

It was always too simple when he let the power take over. 

Locate her feeling. Let him consume him. 

And then just, twist it as much as he wants. 

“Robin,” he spoke slowly, honing his suggestion. “You don’t have to feel bad about not spending time with me tonight.”

He felt her sadness and guilt about the evening recede about as fast as the tide. 

She really shouldn’t feel bad about ditching him, especially not when her education is the main priority. 

He matched her lazy grin, wiping his nose discreetly, only a small drop of blood smeared against his hand. 

The rest of the shift passed without incident, and the roaring feeling in Steve’s gut had been sated enough for the time being. 

So he pushed it back out of his mind, and returned to his empty house. 

He was saving up to get his own place. He really was. But it was easier this way. He didn’t pay any bills, had lots of space to himself, and a pool in the backyard (that he never used). 

And it’s hard for him to explain, but there’s something tugging him back into this house all the time. 

He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s the only home he ever knew after the pain and fear that was his childhood in the lab, or if it’s something else that makes him feel tethered to the too-big house. 

Sometimes he thought there was a sense of safety in the old place. 

With parents that spent excessive amounts of time doing research for things he didn’t understand but was sure were important, it was largely an emotion-free place. 

Which was good for Steve. 

High emotion situations made his power boil up and spill over the edge like a pot of water on the stove. 

A place like his empty house, he could keep everything in check. Not get his feelings tangled with those around him. Not catch thoughts that were just beginning to be molded into something brand new. 

He clambered into bed, punching his pillows around in a way that was decidedly not petulant. 

There was a steady silence in the old house. A silence that was as depressing as it was easy on his brain. 

And there wasn’t silence. 

Creaks. 

Creaks issuing from downstairs. From the floorboards in the hallway. 

Footsteps. 

Steve was out of bed in a second, bat held aloft in as close to ready position as he could maintain while bolting down the stairs in his socks and faded green gym shorts. 

He knew how to navigate the house without a sound. Practice of tip-toeing around a volatile not-father kinda ended up giving him something useful. 

The creaks were still progressing, moving up the hallway from the back of the house, where his parents’ empty bedroom sat still. 

The person was getting closer, lumbering slowly as if they were trying to be quiet themselves. 

Steve adjusted his grip on the bat, taking proper batting stance, ready for the intruder to round the corner into his section of the hall. 

First sign of a person, and Steve would swing. 

No questions asked. 

The floorboard before the bend in the hall gave a loud sound, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone curse under their breath. 

He closed his eyes, and swung. 

His bat sailed through the air, and connected with, not an intruder. 

And then he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear. A completely feral state of fight or flight made him nearly bare his teeth in an animalistic growl. He felt fear, and dread, and pure stubborn, stupid resolve. 

It nearly blinded him, the emotions were so thick and clear. 

And then there whooshed out of him, as though being sucked up by a feelings vacuum, leaving him empty and confused. 

His top lip was covered in blood. 

He had a lot of fucking questions as he stared at the bat, hanging by it’s long nails in the hallway wall, the ominous creaking moving past him towards the stairs. 

The footsteps that were caused by no one. 

It’s official. 

Steve’s lost it. 

He’s fucking crazy. 

He’s hearing footsteps and voices swearing quietly, and he’s going mad and completely batshit and should be tucked away in a padded room for the rest of his life. 

He didn’t even bother to wrench the bat out of the wall as he stumbled after the imagined footsteps. 

He clearly needed to get a good night’s sleep, and to forget that anything happened at all tonight. 

-

Billy hates Harrington’s house. 

He doesn’t, really. It’s given him excellent shelter while he pulled himself together, and it’s out of town enough to serve as a good base for the little gang of Lost Boys he had accumulated. 

It’s just that, the old house likes to make a lot of noise. 

It keeps him on edge. 

Every squealing door hinge, and every creaky floorboard sets his teeth on edge and makes him whip around in a frenzy, expecting to see a demogorgon snarling at him from the sitting room. 

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard the thuds coming from upstairs. 

He generally liked to avoid the top floor of the house. 

Harrington’s bedroom was up there, and it wigged him out something fierce. He’d only been in the dilapidated version of it one time, his first night in the house he had claimed for safety. 

He didn’t intend to stay the night in there, he had just stumbled upon it, and curled up in the bed. 

He remembers not sleeping the entire night. He was so scared after coming to in the library, something slimy and disgusting slipping its way out of his throat. 

The whole place had been screaming, as though the Upside Down itself was alive. Alive and being horrifically murdered. 

He didn’t know what it was called then, all he knew was that Harrington’s house was the first one he came across, and that Harrington’s room was depressingly empty and impersonal. 

But, there was a thudding coming from that general area, and if some kinda shitty creature was making its way into the house, he needed to hedge it off before it did any damage. 

He took hold of his ax, never far from his side these days, and slipped out of his cot. 

The floorboards in the hallway were creaky, and he tried to walk slowly, muffling his footsteps as much as he could in his heavy boots, not wanting to warn the monster he was coming for it. 

He cataloged the crew in his head: Hopper had his troop of three in the basement where they were resting up for the supply run tomorrow. Timothy was on nightwatch with his team of five. Billy was in a pack with four others; Heather Holloway, her mother, Janet, and the two boys they found skulking around the library the same night everyone seemed to wake up. One of the boys was called Andrew. The other hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time they’d been trapped. 

Billy liked to call him by different names each time he referred to the kid. Trying to get him to laugh. He couldn’t’ve been more than seven years old, and he was trapped in this fucking hellscape with the rest of them. 

Andrew was thirteen. Billy didn’t like to look at him much. Andrew reminded him of Max. Which made Billy feel empty and achy in a way he didn’t think was very productive for survival.

But Andrew took a shine to Janet Holloway. Probably missing his mother and needing more comfort than his thirteen-year-old self was willing to admit.

The Holloway women were a hell of a lot feistier than Bill originally gave them credit for, saving his ass in a scrap just as often as he had been there for theirs. Heather and Janet were equal parts caring and soft, with the right amounts of clever and bossy to take point on their team. 

Billy let himself be the muscle. 

He let himself be the watchdog and attack dog. He took nightwatches and never let his weapons out of his grasp.

Everyone had a role. 

And that was perfectly okay.

They had to keep together in this world. They wouldn’t survive it otherwise. 

They’d all lost enough people to understand that. 

One of the boards gave a hefty creak under his left foot, and he breathed a quiet fuck through his bandana, listening for more of the thudding. 

It had stopped about forty seconds before, Billy had counted, and he couldn’t hear any other sounds of something forcing its way inside. Plus, the nightwatch hadn’t sounded any alarms. 

He took another step, ax held ready and aloft in case he came face to ugly face with one of the horrible creatures that prowled the night. 

He rounded the corner, and there was a loud bang on the wall next to his head. 

He jumped as paint chipped off the wall and flew all over him. 

He was hit with a feeling of intense fear, and adrenaline rush that caused all the blood in his ears to rush. He looked wildly around, seeing, nothing. 

Billy bared his teeth, ready to go down fucking swinging. 

As long as he took the fucker down with him, that’s all that matters. 

Save the rest. 

And he stood, ready to fight, ready to die. 

And there was nothing.

Nothing in the hallway. He was all alone. 

None of this shit made any sense. He hadn’t dreamed the wall cracked beside his head, and looking back, there were holes in the wall, and a big dent that had splinted the white paint and drywall beneath it. 

There was some fucked up shit going on, and Billy didn’t like it one bit. 

He continued down the hall, creeping to the stairs to check the original source of the noises that had woken him up. 

Harrington’s room was pretty much just as he remembered it from that first night in the house. 

It was sparse and sad-looking. The covers on the bed were all jostled and thrown around, the horrible spindle-like vines covering nearly every surface in the room. 

They had cleared the tendrils in other rooms, cutting them and burning them back, ensuring the vines didn’t start creeping over them when they weren’t looking. 

Billy didn’t fancy being covered and tethered by the slimy black vines. He was pretty much over all this Upside Down shit. 

He took a cursory look around Harrington’s room, not noticing any signs of forced entry from a creature, really nothing was out of place. 

The meager school trophies on the bookshelf next to the closet looked rotted and tarnished, just like everything else in this absolute hell called a parallel universe. There were few pictures in this room, much like the whole house. It had taken Billy a long time to notice the lack of inhabitancy the house had. The way it seemed to feel so cold and empty, it would be that way in the real world too. 

His eyes swept over the dilapidated dresser, cataloging the room quickly for anything that should worry him. 

Billy deemed the whole scene safe, and made sure to close the door tightly as he retreated back downstairs. 

-

Steve’s going fucking crazy. 

He was still in bed, his alarm clock ringing angrily at him as it had for the past six minutes. 

He hadn’t slept at all last night. 

Something just felt. Off. 

The feelings in his chest were scrambled, and they felt foreign to him. Like he had taken in somebody else’s emotions. 

But proximity was the key to his power, and he was alone. Alone alone. 

Like, the closest person was Mrs. Gardfeld in the next house, all the way across their combined, much too big, yards. 

It felt like. It felt like someone was in the house with him. Someone was in the house with him, and they were scared, and stubborn, and tired, and a flurry of things that made Steve feel ill. 

And he couldn’t push them out. 

He couldn’t find the chasm between this slew of someone else’s shit, and his own messy cocktail of feelings. 

The other feelings were like those awful vines in the tunnel. Snaking around under his feet, wiggling up his ankles and keeping him stuck in the mud. Wrapping around his own emotions and squeezing until they just merged into one. 

He’s lost the metaphor. 

Doesn’t matter. 

His feelings are fucked and his brain is fucked and his day is fucked. 

And he has to work a double at Family Fuckin’ Video. 

He found his way out of bed. Not going very far, just standing next to his warm nest of blankets, debating getting back in and hiding for the rest of his life. 

He was going to be late for work. 

He didn’t really give a fuck. 

Keith would be all smug and probably make some remarks about Steve not even being worth the less-than-minimum wage he was making. 

He took a shower, not so much cleaning himself as letting the lukewarm water cascade down on him and hope it got rid of the stench of sweat and anxiety and bad sleep that was clinging angrily to his skin. 

His brain was empty. 

Empty save for the pounding otherness that were these horrible fucking feelings. 

Robin didn’t even have the heart to call him out for being nearly half an hour late.

“You look like shit.”

No, she just called him out for looking like shit. 

“Y’know, it’s really wonderful to have such a caring and thoughtful friend in these trying times.”

She rolled her eyes. He always told her one day she was gonna get stuck like that. With her eyes permanently fixed towards the ceiling in exasperation. 

“Drop the attitude, Steve Harrington. Just because you didn’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to suffer.” 

Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was joking. Steve just clenched his jaw and stared at her blankly. Either she would get mad at him, or sigh and roll her eyes. 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. 

Bingo. 

She wasn’t actually mad at him. 

“You okay?”

“Jus’, some weirdness. Bad vibes.”

He couldn’t give her more than that. Couldn’t say I can feel someone else in my house and I don’t know if someone is hiding in my house or if I’m going crazy, oh and by the way, I was one of those freaky lab kids and I can manipulate and feel people’s thoughts and emotions, by the way.

That’s too much for a slow shift on a Saturday morning. 

That’s too much for really any time of any day.

No, Steve fully plans to take all that shit to the grave. Like a real man, his dad would say. 

“Well, if you could take your bad vibes back to rewind duty, that would leave all the good vibes up here to me.” She shooed him off with her hand, landing a quick slap square on his left asscheck when he groaned and dragged his feet dramatically on his way to the back room. 

Not that Steve would ever actually complain about rewind duty. Steve preferred doing it to anything else in the place. Especially re-shelving. That was just asking for someone to come ask him for a movie recommendation. Steve only watched the same five campy old westerns and when he recommends any of those, people seem to wanna get out of his face right quick. 

No, rewinding was dull and monotonous and solitary, all the shit that Steve really needed on a day like today. 

There was a strict routine and he didn’t have to think or do anything. 

Just sit. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. Put in re-shelve bucket. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. And again and again and again until all the tapes were ready to go. 

Hawkins tended to take out a lot of movies on the weekend. Not much else to do when you aren’t sixteen and ready to hit up any party you could possibly weasel your way into. 

So, Steve had about fifty some odd tapes to rewind from the past few days and he was feeling benignly excited about sitting in the small room for most of his shift. 

It was easy to pass the shift like that. 

Sitting with the quiet whirring of the tapes being tracked back to the beginning. Not having to deal with anyone’s thoughts except his own tedious ones about when he should take his lunch break and reminding himself to check the TV Guide for anything good tonight. 

It was an odd emptiness that took hold of him throughout the day. And he almost felt, well. 

Lonely. 

He almost felt lonely. 

Which is fucking bonkers because that horrible feeling of someone else had well and truly fucked him over last night, and well into this morning, but he kind. Missed. The other presence. 

He’s officially crazy. 

Someone find this boy a padded fucking cell because Steve Harrington has officially gone all kinds of batshit bananas wacky. 

He’s feeling lonely because the horrible not his feelings of fear and anger and betrayal and desperation aren’t clogging up his little brain sink. Even when they were, the brain sink was threatening to burst and leak all over his brain kitchen. 

Or something to that effect. 

He let his eyes unfocus, watching Jaws at double speed and backward for the fourth time that day. 

There was something about the foreign feelings he just couldn’t quite wrap his head around. 

Something twinging in the back of his brain, screaming at him to open his eyes and pay attention. 

But that’s never been Steve’s strong suit. 

-

“Stupid. Fucking. Vines .”

Hopper muttered to himself a lot. 

It was usually too muffled underneath his own bandana face covering and the hefty beard he had been sporting to discern whatever he was thinking, but it’s not like hating the awful black tendrils of gross plant/monster/everything-that-made-up-the-Upside-Down hybrid of vine-ish tentacles was something that just Hopper experienced. 

It was a sentiment they all shared as they hacked away at the new growth in the dilapidated Bradley’s Big Buys. 

They had already ransacked the general store five times over, and took as much as they could salvage from the wreckage of the other-dimensional mall. 

Supplies were needed, and they had to be smart about it. 

Things had been quiet lately. 

Not many beasties out and about since the night they all seemed to come to. 

Hopper had said something about the gate closing and the brain being cut off from the body. 

Billy hadn’t listened. 

He’d been scared off his ass and all that had really registered was clear for now. 

So, they made supply runs. And poked around town for any survivors left to take back to Basecamp Harrington. Only Billy called it that. 

They had the runs down to a system. 

Pry away any vines they could, burning them back as they went, making enough room to slip into the bargain store, gather as much canned food and grimy medical supplies as they could manage, and book it back to the relative safety of the big house on the edge of the forest. 

Nobody talked about what they’d do when they ran out of supplies. When they’d exhausted their resources and were stuck with nothing but the vines on the ground and the spores in the air. 

Billy got it. 

It’s not like he wants to hear he’ll probably die of starvation and/or a gangrenous infection before he’s eighteen. 

They just. Make do. 

Ration food and keep each other safe. 

Always thinking about the minute they’re in and the minute coming up. Not looking too far forward. 

There’s nothing to see too far in the future. 

Billy crashed the blunt end of his ax through the sliding door at the front of the store, clearing away as much as he could. 

Janet and Andrew would slip inside first go, taking as much as they could carry with them. Next round, Heather would take the little one and gather anything left. 

Billy would keep watch. 

He always kept watch. 

Things had been too good for too long. 

After the first wave of those who didn’t make it, the whole broken side of the Earth was too kind to them. Not sending horrible fleshy monsters to nearly suck out their very souls. 

Billy didn’t think this could last for much longer. 

Heather took the little one by the hand, rushing past her mother and Andrew as they returned with their supplies. Billy did a quick scan of them, noting no new injuries. Nothing out of the norm. 

Supply runs were choreographed down to the minute. 

Should the group not return in forty-five minutes, a search team was sent out. 

The small group trudged back to the Harrington safehouse, keeping in the shadows, not a single one of them daring to speak. Billy walked slightly behind the others, never letting himself relax for a single second. 

Things were too quiet.

-

The feeling hit Steve over the head like a sack of bricks being whacked against his skull. 

Walking into his home was like walking into a stinking den of fear and anxiety. The air was clogged with so many emotions Steve felt like he was choking on them, slowly being crushed under their weight. 

Whoever was emitting all these, Steve felt sorry for them. He can’t imagine living with this much bad energy taking up space in someone’s brain. He could barely cope with his own terrible bullshit. He doesn’t know how someone could cope with this. 

He tried to move through his evening to the best of his ability. 

He nearly set the house on fire when he left the tin foil covering on his frozen meal, causing the microwave to spark angrily at him, the potatoes underneath the corner of foil that had nearly caught fire to smolder and blacken. 

Even in the shower, the water as hot and steamy as he could stand, he felt that prickle he couldn’t get rid of. 

Like if he could just close his eyes and reach out far enough, his fingers would brush someone else. Someone nearby. 

He’s felt it before. That there was a person just out of reach. A person he could feel clear as a bell, but couldn’t alter. Couldn’t manipulate. Just had to experience everything that was going on inside and try to hold on for the ride. 

He wore headphones to bed, blasting a mixtape Robin had made for him last month. Something with a lot of heavy guitars and girls wailing about society. 

He doesn’t think it was all that good, but it helped. Helped him feel like maybe the person wasn’t seeping into his own soul. 

And the whining synth of Patti Smith finally let him get some goddamn sleep. 

  “Hello?”

It was his house. 

But it wasn’t his house. 

It was a blank void. It was nothing. It was nowhere. 

But for some reason, his brain kept telling him it was his house. 

“Harrington?”

It was Billy. Hargrove. 

But it wasn’t Billy. 

He was dirty, covered in soot and horrible black sludge that made Steve’s stomach churn. 

“Why are you in my house?”

Billy looked around the blank void all around them. Water sloshed on the floor, lapping at Billy’s black boots. Steve observed his own toes. 

He was barefoot, but he couldn’t feel the water. 

“This is your house?”

Steve didn’t want to explain. 

“You’re dead.”

“Could be soon.”

Nothing Billy said made any sense. But then, Billy never made much sense when he was alive, either. 

He was an enigma to Steve. A big question mark all wrapped up with a gorgeous face and perfect body.

“Where is this to you?”

Why was Steve’s brain so adamant on declaring this place his house?

“Somewhere safe.”

-

So. 

That’s something. 

Dreaming about Harrington. 

Not necessarily something that Billy wanted to have happen to him while he was experiencing the worst possible time in his life. 

Or maybe he did. 

He’d said it in the dream. 

Somewhere safe. 

It’s what he felt in that blackness. 

Safety. Warmth. Hope. 

All the shit he hasn’t felt since he opened his eyes in the rank-ass library. 

That darkness was like a harness, keeping him grounded to something real. Tucking him in gently at night and kissing him on the head. 

It made waking up that much shittier. 

Knowing he’d be on nightwatch with Heather and Janet tonight, he used resting up as an excuse to lay on his cot, hardly moving in the clouded air. 

He needed to process. 

There was something so fucking weird about that dream. 

It felt real in the moment, and he didn’t question anything that had happened. 

Why there was water on the ground at his feet? Why Harrington was there wearing pajamas Billy could only describe as skanky? All of this made perfect fucking sense to dream Billy. 

Awake Billy, had some fuckin’ questions. 

Mostly, those previously listed. As well as: what the fuck?

He blames seeing Steve specifically on being in his house. That makes sense. You tend to think about a guy quite a lot when you’re living in the broken shell of his family home. He blames seeing Steve in those itsy-bitsy shorts and a homemade cropped t-shirt on the well repressed sexual interest he refused to admit he felt towards the guy. 

All that made sense. 

But everything else. 

Steve said he was dead. 

Was he dead?

Was this Hell?

Purgatory?

He’s read The Divine Comedy, and this doesn’t quite match up with any of the shit Dante waxed on about. 

And dream Billy didn’t think that was a weird thing to say to someone. To accuse them of being dead. He just said could be soon and then acted like that was a normal fucking response. 

His head was spinning out of control. 

The only thing that made sense was when Billy said they were somewhere safe. 

Because, they were. 

Even in the void place, he knew they were safe. 

There was a small tapping sound on the wall next to the open door frame. 

The door had long since rotted right through. 

“Miss Janet sent me to see if you’re alright.”

Andrew was always calling Janet Holloway Miss Janet. 

It makes Billy wonder if manners like that were beaten into him by a father like Neil. 

He hopes not. 

He likes Andrew too much for that. 

Andrew hovered around while Billy swung himself out of his cot. 

He changed out the bandana over his mouth and nose. 

Most of them slept fully dressed, even with their shoes and socks still firmly on their feet. 

You had to be ready to go at the slightest sound of Bad in this place. 

Plus, everything was so goddamn dirty, what’s a little mud in the sheets in the grand scheme of things? And the rancid rotting smell of the Upside Down did wonders to cover the smell of body odor.

Billy followed Andrew down the L-shaped hallway, to the sitting room where he found Janet and Heather huddled together on one couch, the little one between them. 

“Apparently something happened on the run last night.” 

Billy’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t make out Janet’s expression under her face covering. The little one got up from his spot on the couch, standing in Billy’s shadow. He liked to do that. Billy figured he felt safe behind someone so much bigger and stronger than him. Someone with a big fuckin’ weapon that was never too far away. 

“Who’d we lose?”

“No one. Everyone’s okay. Hopper just called all of us for a discussion, then went to the basement.”

The basement was Hopper’s domain with his little chunk of the crew. 

He had found some busted up H.A.M. radio from somewhere he refused to explain, and spent all the time he wasn’t watching over his shoulder for threats or gathering supplies from smashed grocery stores, trying to fix it up, tuning it to different crackling stations, and yelling into it. 

El. El, I need you to copy if you can hear me. El!

-

The pillow was a mess of blood the next morning. 

It was congealed and cracked and tacky against his face and made the pillowcase stick to his cheek and his bloody upper lip in a way that kinda made Steve wanna puke a little bit. 

His nose had bled in the night. 

He never got nosebleeds. 

Unless he used his power. 

And that dream. 

That blank void space and that mucky scraggly Billy lookin’ like the hunky star of some apocalypse movie.

Wait.

Blood forgotten, smeared on his face and neck, Steve tossed himself towards the phone on his nightstand, smacking his shoulder against the wooden corner and tumbling to the floor, his legs still tangled in his sheets on the bed. 

He couldn’t deal with anything, snatching the phone up and punching in the only number that was grinding through his head. 

“ Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up, ” he muttered into the receiver. 

His upper body was still flopped over to the plush carpet, legs twitching and shaking on the bed with his anxiety. 

He’s had some massive fucking realizations and he needs backup. 

“This is the Byers.”

“Put El on the phone.”

-

“Oh. Steve’s covered in blood again. The Upside Down must really be back,” Dustin said in complete monotone as Steve opened the door. 

Steve couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. 

He felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough, all coming in the neat package of a major breakdown. 

He felt manic and shaky and so what if he forgot he was covered in the aftermath of a superpower-nosebleed-explosion?

“Shut up. Just get in.”

El had rallied the old troops from St. Paul, calling everyone at the ass-crack o’fuck in the morning and saying something about catching some weird Hawkins vibes all the way from Minnesota. 

It was a fucking weak excuse, but explaining the whole Steve situation was just not really in the cards today. 

He’s got an agenda and they need to stick to it. 

Robin said she’d gather Max on the way to Steve’s place, and Nancy was probably hauling Mike and Lucas over faster than a speeding gun or whatever that expression is, so all Steve had to do was get his story straight. 

“And maybe you should think about putting on a clean shirt? At the very least. I’d say, maybe just start over. Take a shower. Powerwash your face, even.”

“When the fuck did you become sarcastic ?”

“Right after you became friends with the coolest chick on the planet and then decided you’re too good for her.”

“ Chick. Don’t call Robin a chick. And I’ve told you, we’re just friends. I’m not too good for her.”

Really, Steve thought she was too good for him. 

Well, that, and there’s the whole part where she’s super totally not into guys at all. 

“So, what’s this all about, anyway? Mike said on the phone that El called him and left a really cryptic message.”

“Look. She called me to explain and ask if everyone could meet here,” Steve lied. “I’ll give you guys a recap once the rest of the gang shows.”

“But she thinks there’s something going on with the Upside Down? Again ?”

“I think she knows there’s something going on with the Upside Down.”

The more Steve sat with the memory of how Billy looked in that dream, the more he was certain of where he was. 

Billy had been ratty. His normally perfect hair was long and limp, greasy on top and matted around his face. He was sporting a patchy beard, nothing like the fuckin’ pornstache the guy had been rocking all last summer. 

And he was filthy. Covered in grime and dirt, and Steve’s sure if he’d looked harder, he would’ve seen traces of that viscous black goo that only meant bad news. 

There was a squeal of tires, an alarm signaling the arrival of Nancy in her mother’s station wagon, toting her brother and Lucas. 

“I’m in this now, Lucas Sinclair!” came Erica’s voice from the entryway. 

Steve was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Erica, you accidentally found out about all this!”

“So did you!”

The Sinclair siblings’ bickering was only cut by the sound of the Wheeler siblings snapping at one another in turn.

“Am I the only one that thinks it doesn’t make sense to meet up this early? El and Will are like, seven hours away!”

“Mike! It doesn’t matter. We all have to talk and figure out what’s going on.”

The sounds of arguments all quieted abruptly as the four people rounded the corner and caught sight of Steve.

“Oh, Jesus. Who kicked your ass this time?” Mike snipped at Steve. 

Oh, yeah. He keeps forgetting he’s covered in his own nose blood. 

“What? It’s nothing. I kicked my own ass. Just take a seat.”

“I told you to-”

Steve didn’t wanna hear it. 

He loves all these people, but his head kinda felt like it was full of mushy jelly and runny pudding and all the loud talking wasn’t doing much to help. 

He stepped out onto the porch, snagging the pack of cigarettes he kept stowed in the flower box next to the door. 

It took two to finally tame his nerves any. 

Sitting there with all the people in his house waiting for an explanation, he kinda felt like his haphazard plan was shit and going to fall through immediately. 

Just tell them El called. Tell them she saw Billy in the nowhere place and she thinks he’s alive. Easy as pie. 

The tell-tale sound of a skateboard making its way closer and closer announced Max before he saw her. 

Robin was pedaling next to her, helmet lopsided on her head and not buckled underneath her chin. 

They were talking animatedly to one another, their laughter dying as soon as they saw Steve waiting for them.

“Fuck. So this is real.”

“Why does everyone think I got the shit beat outta me?”

“Your ass gets creamed every time some spooky shit goes down in this place, Harrington,” Max informed him. 

She was a little Billy replica, all the way down to the way the corner of her mouth twitched up when she said his name. 

It would’ve been sad. The way she tried to become her brother after losing him so violently last summer. 

But something like relief settled into his bones, strong and real and wait ‘til I tell her Billy’s not dead and he was laughing. Curling in on himself cackling so hard his stomach had already begun to get sore

“Fuck. He’s lost it,” Robin sighed, ditching her bike next to Dustin’s and heaving Steve up, both hands underneath his armpits.

-

Nobody dared speak. 

“And you’re sure? You’re positive you heard one of those things?”

Janet had her arms twisted over her chest, her jaw tight as she watched Hopper’s every move. 

“It’s not really a sound you forget.”

Billy’s hand was shaking, he was gripping the ax so hard. 

“So, we’re fucked,” Angela said harshly. Her cold voice sent ice down Billy’s spine. “If those things are back, we don’t stand a fucking chance.”

Hopper scrubbed his hand over his brow, sighing through the cloth over his mouth and nose.

“It just means I have to try harder. I can get to El, I know I can.”

Hopper said that a lot. But he never explained what getting to El meant. 

Heather had explained she met El once, but she said it was weird and she only saw her like some kind of shadow, a figment in this dark empty place. Somewhere as cold and broken as the Upside Down felt. 

The little one was leaned up against Billy, his left hand balled in the edge of Billy’s leather jacket. He stood like that a lot. It was grounding for Billy. Kinda like holding Max’s hand when she was young and still thought he was the coolest person she’d ever met. 

“But, you only heard something, right? So it very well could be nothing.” Timothy was good at keeping mediator. He always kept a level head and talked slowly and calmly. They needed someone like him in this nightmare.

“They make this noise. This kind of wet chirping. Like this gurgle that just sounds like they’re watching you, ready to pounce out at any time, shrieking and attacking. It’s not a sound you forget.” Hopper had this horrible haunted look on his face, and Billy fucking believed him. 

“Then we up nightwatch. Stick together,” Billy offered. He never usually piped up with strategy, but that’s the best he’s got, and frankly, he thinks it’s the only way they’d all be able to make it through. 

“Exactly. We move in a pack now. Keep track of everyone together, and stay aware of what’s around us. I think we should do a major run and then lock up for a few days to see what goes down.” 

Hopper leaned back in the ratty armchair he was taking up, looking around to see if anyone challenged his ideas. 

Billy had given up his alpha male attitude the second Hopper yanked his upper arm and nearly screamed at him, asking Billy if he was ‘one of the flayed’ all while aggressively checking him over for injuries. 

First time any of Neil’s lessons actually sunk in. 

Respect and responsibility. 

If that fucker could see Billy now, doing nothing but respecting authority and taking responsibility for all these peoples’ lives. 

“We should rest up. Take a run tonight. Get a lay of the land,” Timothy said with an air of finality. Nobody argued. 

Hopper nodded. 

Everyone broke out from the Harringtons’ living room, milling around to get prepared for tonight’s run. Taking stock of what they needed to keep going for the next few days. 

Billy was itching to slide back into his cot and try to seek out that space if he can. The empty space where Harrington and that warm feeling of safe existed. 

The little one stayed clinging to his jacket, and Billy took a loose hold of his wrist, trying to provide some kind of basic comfort to the tiny kid. 

“You wanna go raid the cabinet?” The kid stared up at Billy with big eyes. Billy could never tell what color they were in the gloom. He thinks maybe green. 

The cabinet was a large door, built into the wall of the sitting room, and clearly where the Harringtons kept their games. 

They had these excruciating couple thousand-piece puzzles, the pictures peeling and faded on the pieces. They had Trivial Pursuit and backgammon, and all kindsa shit. 

The little one went and pulled out the checkers board. That was the only game Billy knew how to play anyhow. 

He and Max used to sit for hours, playing with this dinosaur-themed checker game Max’s dad got for her one birthday. 

It helped, playing a game. Helped pass the time. Help bait the anxiety. 

Helped them all feel a little bit closer to human.

-

“I don’t. Get it.”

Apparently, Nancy was not the only one, if the blank stares Steve was receiving from around his living room were anything to go by. 

“Yeah, why did she call you ?” Mike’s snitty tone was really grating on Steve’s fragile nerves.

“She said, she called to make sure everyone could come over here before she told you all to just show up this early on a Sunday morning and then she kinda explained what happened.”

Max was white as a sheet, tracking Steve like he was playing a horrible joke on her. 

“And she saw Billy. Billy Hargrove .” 

Steve nodded at Dustin. 

“Why does she think he’s in the Upside Down?” Robin asked, perched on the coffee table, sitting closest to where he was standing nervously. 

“She just knows .”

It was frustrating, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation without just spilling his guts. 

He rubbed absentmindedly at the cigar burn on his wrist. 

“I just don’t believe this. I talked to her three days ago, and she’s still having trouble with her powers. She can barely move a book, and hasn’t been able to get to the void since July, and you’re saying she accidentally saw Billy Hargrove, who we all saw murder a bunch of people and then get killed -”

“Shut up! He wasn’t himself!” Max shrieked out over Mike, the only time she’d even opened her mouth since Steve had mentioned her stepbrother’s name.

“Even if he is alive, El couldn’t have seen him! It doesn’t make sense!” Mike’s voice rose over Max’s, and Steve has a fucking headache and he’s over it.

“It was me! I had a dream. I went to the void. I saw Billy in the Upside Down. I called El to say she saw him.” 

Everyone went dead silent, staring at him.

“Steve,” Robin began, searching his face.

It was like all the wind that had been filling up his sails, powering his energy ship, had suddenly quit blowing. 

Steve was tired. 

He sank to the floor, crossing his legs where he sat.

“I need you all to shut the fuck up for a moment and let me explain, because I only wanna say all this shit once.” He covered his bloody face with his hands. “I’m like El.”

That statement hung in the air for a moment. 

And then there was a roar of noise.

“How could you keep this a secret?” Dustin shouted.

“Not in a million years !” Lucas decided. Erica yelled something back at him, vaguely defending Steve, which was nice.

“You mean you came from the lab?” Mike had a look on his face like he’d swallowed a particularly bitter lemon. 

“Everybody, shut the fuck up!” Max roared, glowering at each person until they were silent again. 

In all this Robin hadn’t said a word. She was pale, staring at Steve.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into it because it fucking sucks to think about,” Steve still hadn’t uncovered his face. “But yeah. I was in the lab. I got out because they decided I was a failed experiment. My mom worked at the lab and she took me and we pretended like the three of us moved here from Oklahoma and my dad told me never to tell anyone. And I haven’t. Didn’t even tell El. She recognized me from then. Don’t even know how, I left when she was like, three. Doesn’t matter. I’m a freaky lab kid and last night I fell asleep and saw Billy in that-what’d you call it? The void? Yeah, I saw him, and he’s covered in dirt and gross black Upside Down shit, and he’s fucking stuck there, and now we’re here.”

There was another silence. 

Steve didn’t dare to look at any of them.

He didn’t want them to laugh in his face. Tell him he was making all this shit up and leave him alone to deal with Billy trapped somewhere else. 

He wanted them to take his word for it. To quietly believe this crazy fucking shit of a story because the scared other feeling was back and clawing at his spine and making him want to burrow into the ground and find somewhere safe and secure and-

“Okay.”

Of course it was Robin. 

It was always Robin. 

Steve let himself look at her. 

She was pale, but she was smiling at him. 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Steve nodded once.

“Okay. Uh, great.”

“Wait, if you’re defective, no offense, then how did you see Billy?” 

Steve stared at Max weighing his answer carefully. 

“Because, well, the defective thing, that was all, I didn’t mean to, that was before I really understood what I could do. Don’t get me wrong, it really worked out, but it was an accident.”

“Spit it out, Sailor Man.”

“ Erica .”

Erica just rolled her eyes at Lucas. 

“Okay. Uh, before I explain, just, just keep in mind that I have rules, and I don’t use my powers if I can avoid them, and I’d never use them to be a creep, but-”

“Steve!”

“Fine!” The words were right there, ready to tumble out of his mouth and ruin his life forever. 

There was no going back after this. 

The second they knew, everything would be different.

“I can feel other peoples’ emotions and, like, change them.”

Another silence.

“I don’t understand.”

Nancy was the last person he’d ever want to have this conversation with. 

He knows what she’s thinking. He knows that the great anger brewing inside her is because she assumes he made her like him. Made her attracted to him. 

Made her want him. 

“I don’t use it like that. I would never, put something there that shouldn’t be there. It’s just, When someone feels something near me, I can tap into it. Let it become my own feelings. And then I just, change it. Just a little.” He cast around for a harmless example because so far, everyone was staring at him like a goddamn creep. “Robin!”

She startled slightly when he yelled at her.

“Okay, so Robin. I’d never, ever make you feel something not true to you. Like, I’d never make it so you were into me when you’re totally not, right?” He cast a glance at Nancy. “But, like, the other day, when you felt really shitty when I invited you over and you were studying, I just, I made it so you wouldn’t feel bad. I felt all this guilt you had for leaving me alone when you thought I was having a shitty day, and I made it so you didn’t feel guilty because you shouldn’t. That’s the kinda level I allow myself to work on.”

The look Robin was giving him was breaking his fucking heart. 

Worse still, was the feeling of betrayal that began eating away at her. 

“So, right now. You can tell what we’re all feeling?” Even Lucas, ever the level-headed one, couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I don’t want to. I don’t try to, but I can’t really avoid it. I just try to ignore it. But sometimes, sometimes if I bottle it all up for a while, it comes crashing out of me, and that’s when bad shit happens. If I don’t use it occasionally, it only wakes things worse, and I-”

“I can’t hear this.”

Robin’s anger crashed through Steve like a wave, nearly knocking him over. She stood, towering over him. 

“When we were in that bathroom, all drugged out of our minds. I-” she sniffed, rage tears pooling in her eyes. Steve likes her eyes. So crystal blue. “Are we even really friends?”

Her last question was nothing more than a whisper. 

And it made Steve wish he was never born.

He gaped at her like a dead fish.

“Rob, of course we are! I would never-”

“Because I hated you. And then one summer. Two whole months where we’re close enough that you can get all up in my brain, and suddenly I’m telling you shit I’ve never told anyone before.”

“It wasn’t, Robin I swear, that whole time, I never once used-”

She held up her hand, cutting him off. 

A sob caught in his throat as she turned on her heel. 

She slammed the door closed behind her. 

Another fucking silence. 

Steve couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Their feelings were enough for him now, betrayal and anger and disappointment rushing into his lungs, drowning him. Choking him. 

“You’ve used them on all of us.”

It wasn’t a question. 

It was just a statement. The coldest he’s ever heard Dustin sound. 

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“Jesus, Steve. You realize that’s actually totally fucked up, right? You can’t just make us feel whatever you want,” Dustin bellowed at him, standing up like Robin had done, looking down at Steve where he sat pathetically on the floor. 

And, when it’s put like that. 

Sure. 

It’s kinda fucked up. 

But he’s only ever meddled in a way that’s good. He only ever tries to make his friends feel the positives. Hell, on the night of that stupid Snow Ball, he’d given Dustin enough self-confidence to make Madonna seem insecure. 

All he does is try to help. 

“All I do is try to help.”

More fucking silence. 

Steve was so goddamn sick of silence. All he had was silence. He had the nothing, empty quiet. And he didn’t want it from the people who were supposed to make his life loud. 

“El won’t be here until later tonight. I think we should just meet up then.”

Steve buried his head in his hands, biting back sobs as the small group filtered out of his house. 

This is why he had wanted to take this secret with him to death. 

He told everyone who he really is, and now they all hate him, and he’s completely alone, and wherever Billy is he’s fucking scared and-

“Steve?”

Max’s voice was small, mirroring the way she was curled in on herself in the plush armchair near the wall. 

“Do you really think Billy’s alive?”

Steve nodded at her, desperately begging her to stay. To help him. 

“I know he is.”

“I have an idea.”

-

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. 

Doesn’t remember much of anything in this place. 

He studied the water lapping at his muddy boots, dragging his toes through it to make the water wave and ripple. 

It didn’t make a sound. 

“I want to help.”

Billy knew Steve was there even before he spoke. 

Something about the warmth he brought to the void place. 

The safety. 

“Don’t know if you can.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile at that. His face was covered in blood, dried and flaking away from his skin, painted all the way down his face and neck, some staining the collar of his shirt.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“That happens when the only interactions you have with a guy are to beat his ass.”

Steve cracked a real smile at that. Something big and bright that made Billy’s gut twist in a way he didn’t quite like. 

“You’re forgetting all those other times we spent together. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Yeah, Billy knows. 

Mostly because he wasn’t trying to be subtle. 

He had talked to Steve about his bitchy ex while they both had their dicks out in the shower. He was trying to be very much un-subtle. 

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“I know.”

Oh. 

Steve knows. 

And all he had done was stare blankly at Billy. 

Nice. 

“I need to know where you are.”

“Why?” 

“Because I can help.”

Billy just blinked at Steve. 

“Do you know El?”

Something funny happened to Steve’s face. He kind of gave a little smile that flickered into a frown and landed on something a little pinched and awkward. 

“Yeah. How do you know her?”

“Hopper keeps saying he needs to get to her. None of us know what he’s talking about.”

And with that, Steve’s eyes went huge, and his jaw dropped. The water at Billy’s ankles sloshed quietly. 

“Hopper’s there? Chief Hopper? Jim Hopper is there?”

“Jesus, yeah. Been here since we all woke up.”

Steve acted like Billy had told him that Farrah Fawcett herself was on her way to shave his head. 

Meaning, he looked struck fucking dumb. 

“I’m gonna need you to explain.”

“I don’t know. Don’t remember much. Crashed my car on one of your shitty backwoods roads, and then everything is just, kinda, gone. I woke up in this shithole version of the library and Hopper found me here and we’ve kinda set up camp.”

Billy shrugged lamely. Something was dripping, he could hear the sound of it far behind him.

“There’s more of you? How many?”

“Not as many as there should be.”

Steve’s mouth pinched, and his big droopy eyes went all sweet and sad. 

“Where are you? Where’s the camp?”

Billy was suddenly embarrassed. There was a sound like a stream flowing over rocks.

What’s he supposed to say? The hellscape skeleton of your house oh and by the way all your stuff is here and I slept in your bed once because I was scared and sad.

“Someone’s house. Don’t know whose.”

Steve huffed some air out of his nostrils, his mouth pinching again. 

Billy hadn’t realized someone could make so many different expressions just by pursing their lips in different ways. 

“Find out. We’re coming to get you.”

A crash of a wave, and Billy was back in hell. 

-

Steve sucked in lungfuls of air, tossing the towel that had been covering his eyes to the ground. 

“You saw him.” 

Max was sitting in front of him, the t.v. playing static behind her. 

“Yeah. He’s okay. I mean, he’s really gross. Like, he’s-sorry. He’s okay.”

Max was still staring at him like she didn’t quite know how to proceed. 

“But he’s in the Upside Down?”

“Yeah. And there’s others. He said Hopper’s there, that he’s been trying to contact El.”

“Wait, Hopper? He’s alive?”

“Billy said all of the flayed woke up after the Fourth of July in the Upside Down. He doesn’t know anything that happened in this world, and Hopper was there and they’ve set up, like, some kind of camp, or whatever. He said they’re in someone’s house. He doesn’t know who.”

“ Fuck .”

Yeah, Steve agrees with that sentiment. 

This whole thing was like, kind of a lot. 

And deep inside him, those other feelings had yet to leave him alone all day. 

There was some kind of disappointment knocking about in his brain. 

He knows it’s Billy. 

All of those other feelings, it’s whatever Billy is feeling right that minute wherever he is. 

And it only happens when Steve is-

“Max, he’s here.”

She whipped around behind her, staring at the front door like Billy could waltz through it at any moment. 

“No, no not here, here .” She clearly didn’t understand. He used the towel to wipe the fresh blood from his upper lip, still having yet to clean himself up any. “The camp, the safeplace, it’s here. They’ve set up in my house!”

It felt like a revelation on par with the greatest inventions. Steve felt like the scientist that landed the man on the moon or the very first person to melt cheese onto fries. 

A genius. 

“So, he’s, I mean, he could be, just, here .” She looked over the room wistfully, and Steve knew how she felt. Like she wanted to pierce her hands into thin air, tearing a hole in between the two worlds and ripping Billy straight outta hell. 

(Really, she just filled him with a wave of fierce determination, but Steve likes to take poetic license on other people’s feelings sometimes.)

“And you can feel him.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he, okay?”

And he knows this question. 

Not the okay he assured her of when he first saw Billy. Soothing that he wasn’t missing any internal organs or possessed by any monsters. 

She wants to know if he’s held it together. 

“He’s scared. He’s always scared. But he’s really fucking stubborn, and he- I don’t know why he feels these things, but sometimes he gets kinda sad. Almost like he’s lost something, and sometimes, it feels like he’s caught fire, and his insides are just going up in flame and he gets overwhelmed by them. And sometimes he feels-” He hadn’t meant to continue.

“Tell me.”

He’s pretty sure Max knew what he was going to say next. 

She just wanted it confirmed. 

“Hopeless. Sometimes he feels hopeless.”

She sniffed, her eyes shining as she looked anywhere that wasn’t Steve. 

“But, we know now. He doesn’t have to be hopeless anymore. We’ll find a way in, and we’ll get him out.”

He didn’t want to manipulate her. 

He didn’t want to cross the boundaries everyone clearly thought he already had. 

But he was positive he would find a way to Billy. He was positive he would get him out and get him home. 

He sent a wave of that determination and hope and conviction to her. 

“Yeah. We’ll get him.”

-

“Hopper, man, some funky shit is going down.”

Hopper whirled around quickly, halfway to his feet and asking who's been hurt before Billy raised both hands, acting like he was calming an anxious horse.

“Nah, sorry, shoulda worded that better. I just mean, something’s happened to me. With me, maybe. I don’t know. Just hear me out. This shit’s gonna sound, insane.”

Hopper didn’t say anything as Billy explained, beginning with that night when the wall shattered next to his head, and ending with his most recent trip to the void place. 

Billy shrugged lamely when he finished explaining. 

“So, Harrington, huh? Never woulda guessed he was like her. You sure you didn’t see a little girl anywhere in the blank place?”

“No. It was just us. Both times.”

Hopper leaned back in his chair, scratching a hand through his thick beard. 

“The first time one of the demogorgons showed up on our side was behind Steve’s house. Took Will Byers from his shed. They live some few miles away. Second time was in Harrington’s backyard. Took Barbara Holland.” Hopper sighed, looking in the direction of the busted radio. Billy could more or less see the cogs turning in his head. “If you see him again, tell him where we are. Tell him I think the walls are thinnest here. That maybe he and El could tear through. Better yet, tell him to find me if he can.”

He clapped Billy on the shoulder, looking right at him in that way he did sometimes. It always made Billy feel like a little kid. 

“Thank you, kid. You might’ve just saved us.”

Billy felt awkward and didn’t really know what to do with his face. Thankfully, Hopper turned away from him, cutting the moment short and moving back to fiddling with the old radio. 

Billy ducked his way up and back to the furthest bedroom on the ground floor, taking a seat on his low cot and digging his palms into his eyes. 

He didn’t know how the void happened. If he could only get there in his sleep, or if it was Steve’s doing somehow. 

“C’mon, Steve. Where are you? Come find me, Pretty Boy. We gotta talk.”

When he moved his hands away, he was in that blank place. 

Billy was taken aback a bit, thinking somehow he had created the place around him. 

Until he saw Steve, standing nervously and staring at Billy. 

“I felt you. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, you felt me? What in the fuck’s that supposed to mean.”

“Don’t worry about it. What happened? Are you guys okay?”

Steve wasn’t covered in blood anymore. 

In fact, he looked freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and soft-looking without product. 

It’s how he always looked right after having a post-practice shower. Clean and warm. Soft and inviting. 

“I talked to Hopper. He told me to give you a message.”

Steve’s eyes lit up, and he took a step towards Billy, the water rippling where his foot disturbed the surface. 

“He said, well. He told me where we are. Apparently, we’re at your place.” Billy tried to smirk a little, act like this was brand new information to him.

“Yeah. I gathered.”

“He thinks the walls are thinnest at your place. Said that maybe you and El could tear through easily. That mean anything to you?”

Steve nodded so hard his bangs flopped right into his eyes. 

He pushed his hair out of his face, tucking some behind his ear. Billy tracked the movement. 

“We’re going to try tonight. Maybe around six. Can you guys be ready by then?”

“We don’t have any way to track time around here. Don’t even know if it’s day or night, really.”

Steve bit his soft bottom lip, looking at Billy like he wanted to cry for him. 

“Then I’ll come and get you before. Warn you when we’re about to start. Make sure everyone stays close. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it sustained, and we want to get everyone out if we can.”

“Steve, man, what in the fuck is going on? I’ve been shut up in this place for, for I don’t even know how long, and all of a sudden, you just start showing up in my head and telling me that you’re gonna take point on this big fuckin’ rescue mission.”

Billy doesn’t want to admit it to anyone, least of all Steve Harrington, but he’s scared, and confused, and he genuinely wishes that he had died in that library instead of waking up. 

“I’ll explain it when you get back.” 

And Steve smiled at him and the corners of his eyes crinkled and Billy didn’t quite feel like he wanted to die anymore. 

-

“Where are they?”

El didn’t even say hello when she pushed Steve’s front door open, just made straight for Max and Steve in the sitting room.

“They’re all being dicks,” was Max’s answer. “Steve told us about how you two know each other, and everyone kinda freaked.”

“I mean, it’s pretty freaky.”

“Yeah, sure, but they didn’t need to be such shitbirds about it.”

Somewhere between feeling harshly angry at Steve and his powers and hearing her brother’s voice crackle through the television speaker, Max had pretty much ensconced Steve as her sidekick. 

Which he didn’t mind in the least. 

It was kinda odd seeing the Byers in his house. 

Jonathan looked. Exactly the same. 

Like literally. His hair had grown out since his mother had taken a pair of scissors and a bowl to it last summer, and he looked just like the Hawkins Jonathan Steve was used to. 

It was kinda nice. 

At least one thing hasn’t changed. 

Especially because Will is pretty much unrecognizable. 

He had shot up, growing until he could nearly look Steve in the eye. And thank God, he must've followed Jonathan’s footsteps and stopped letting Joyce cut his hair. 

It was longer, adn shaggier, but it made him look so grown up. 

Nearly as grownup as El, her hair nearly down to her shoulder blades, the top of her head coming up on Steve’s chin, showing off the signs of her own growth spurt. 

Even Joyce was sporting a new look. Longer hair with bangs that were swept off her face.

She gave Steve a comforting hug, and those were just the same. 

Unease filled the room. 

Nobody knew what they were walking into. El had to have given them the basics, and Steve figures she explained some on the long drive back to town, but there had been even more developments since the last they had spoken this morning. 

Steve sifted through the borderline panic of Max and the Byers, clinging onto the fierce calm that El was radiating. Probably for his benefit more than her own actual experience. 

“I know where Billy is. We talked. I have an idea.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the feelings. “Hopper’s alive.”

It took a second. 

El’s carefully maintained calm wavered for a moment. 

And then it crashed down. 

Disbelief, relief, denial, anger, hope, joy. 

Everything a person could possibly feel at once poured out of El and Joyce both, nearly knocking Steve off his feet with the sheer velocity of the emotions. 

“Saw him?”

“No. But Billy mentioned him. He said he’s been trying to get to you.”

El’s eyes filled with tears, and Steve could feel the satisfaction, the pride, welling up in her that Hopper was still thinking of her. That he was trying to reach out. 

“My powers,” she trailed off.

“Yeah. I know. But, he said, well, he told Billy to tell me, he thinks the walls are thinnest here. Maybe in the woods outback. He thinks we can do it.”

Sorry,” Joyce interrupted. She had gathered herself somewhat, but her feelings were still shaky. 

She always felt like she was trembling emotionally. Joyce felt everything nearly as viscerally as Billy did. 

“I think we’re not on the same page. Steve, you spoke to Billy? El said she sensed him.”

“Steve is like me. From Papa.”

“You mean, from the lab?” Jonathan clarified. 

Everyone was staring at Steve again and he felt like burrowing a hole right through the floor and hiding underground forever. 

“Yeah, I got out when I was a kid. My parents were pretty hell-bent on hiding it from everyone. But. You know. Cat’s outta the bag now. But yes, it was me who saw Billy. He’s in the Upside Down. A bunch of people are. Including Hopper. It sounds like they were all taken and the flayed people out here were like, fake. Like evil twin versions.”

Sure, it’s a shitty explanation.

It’s the best he can do, okay? Leave him alone. 

“So, what’s his plan, then?”

That’s the good thing about the Byers, though. They get the whole, priority thing. Now’s not the time to focus on shit like Steve’s fake life. Not when the Upside Down is concerned. 

“Billy didn’t say much. Just that he thinks maybe El and I could like, band together to open it. I don’t really know how, I mean, I haven’t thought about it much, I just spoke to him, but that's the idea. I told him I would meet him in the void or whatever before we go so he can gather everyone and get ready.”

“So, is it just us?” Will asked quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. He was disappointed. His friends not being where they were needed. Not being there to see him for the first time since his family moved away months ago. 

Steve shrugged.

He was battling his own disappointment and hurt at everyone ditching him. 

“No. Let’s start calling. We need to stick together for this one. Billy hasn’t said anything about how bad the Upside Down has been, and we need to be ready to fight off anything that tries to get through.”

“Max is right. They should be here.” Will was already making his way to the phone placed on the side table. “They need to be here.” 

Jonathan caught Steve’s eye, jerking his head slightly to the hallway. 

Steve followed him, already knowing the line of questioning that was about to hit him. 

“I knew you called El. I picked up this morning. Now the story makes a lot more sense, I guess.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting this weird feeling for a couple months, but I finally put it all together. Probably would’ve happened faster it is was El.”

“I don’t know. She’s been struggling a lot. She practices every day, but,” he sighed” I don’t know if she’s strong enough to make this work.”

He’s worried, adn scared, and has that exact same tremble-feeling that his mother does. 

“I know. I just don’t think we can leave them any longer. Billy said they’ve already lost people. I don’t know what it’s been like for them, but they’ve been stuck for fucking months, and-”

This time, it hit him so hard he really did blackout. 

His vision clouded around him, and his whole body burned with the raging fear inside of him. 

He could hear something, could hear someone screaming, adn something, something that sounded horrible, and so very very like a-

-

“Demogorgon!”

It’s like it had come out of nowhere. 

This towering figure, long and thin in all the wrong fucking ways.

And the sound. Billy realized what Hopper meant about how it’s not something you forget. 

They were in some form of a ready position. 

Billy among the front of the group, holding his ax he had never let go of in the first place. 

His heart was pounding. 

We’ll be out soon. We’ll be out soon. 

He didn’t believe it. 

How could he?

How the fuck is Steve Harrington going to get them out of the worst place ever? No offense to him or anything, but the guy could barely make a goddamn milkshake without spilling something on the sticky tile floor of Scoops Ahoy! and now, Billy’s life is in this guy’s hands while he stares into the jaws of a monster that looks like it stepped right out of H.P. Lovecraft’s wettest dreams.

It’s not like this is the first time he’s had this realization, but he is in way over his fucking head. 

“Steve,” Billy grumbled to himself through gritted teeth. “If you can hear me, get us the fuck outta here.”

The thing ahead of them wasn’t moving. It stood in the line of the trees behind Steve’s house. 

It was staring down the clump of people on the other side of the backyard. 

The air was still. 

Billy’s ears were ringing. 

He stared the thing down. 

Its long fingers twitched. 

Someone screamed. 

And the thing charged. 

It roared like nothing Billy had ever heard before. A shriek that seemed to vibrate Billy’s bones and tremble the earth underneath his feet. 

It charged. 

Sprinting forward on long thin legs, it loped with a grace that turned Billy’s stomach and made his knees wobble and threaten to give out. 

Plant your feet. 

It rang through his head, Steve’s voice from, some time Billy couldn’t remember. Or maybe Steve was just the little voice that commanded his bravery now. 

Either way, he dug the balls of his feet into the cracked ground, and waited. 

Don’t stop fighting.

He swung. 

The ax clocked right into the side of the thing, barely cutting into its thick leathery skin, but it slowed it down. 

Well, actually. 

It made it change course from attacking the group as a whole, to honing in on Billy. 

Which was less than awesome. 

Billy wrenched the ax out of its tough body, thick, sticky black goo connecting the ax with its entry point as he drew it away. 

He swung again, nearly hitting the same place. 

The thing cried out, roaring over the sound of screaming and gunshots. 

Hopper had his rifle trained on the flowered head of the one Billy was furiously chopping into like a tree. 

There were two more, two he hadn’t noticed in his preoccupation with the one in front of him. 

He didn’t know who was who. Which gunshot belonged to which gun, which shriek belonged to which animal. 

He didn’t know if the cries of pain were from the awful beasts or the people in his camp. He was hoping the former. 

He swung again. There was a sickening sound of the metal blade connecting with something solid. Something like bone. 

Hopper shot it, once, twice in the head. 

It was whining, making a high-pitched noise as it staggered about. 

One last blow to the side of the thing, and it was finished. 

The monster flopped onto the ground, dark liquid oozing out of it, its body nearly split in half where Billy had hammered it with his ax. A great gaping wound that showed sticky dark entrails. 

Billy turned. 

His brain was working in slow motion as he charged into the battle still raging. 

He didn’t know how many of the things had arrived. 

All he knew was taking them out.

His arms were sore from the force he was putting into each blow with his ax. His muscles threatened to give out at any moment.

Drive them back. We’re coming. 

The thought was shoved into his head. He didn’t know where it came from but he believed it. 

“Help is on the way!” He shouted to no one and everyone. 

He had taken down two more demogorgons with the help of the others. One was missing its body, a petal head lolling on the ground, getting trampled on in the fight. 

-

Steve had felt the demogorgon before Billy saw it. 

It was an odd feeling, almost like it was a black hole sucking up everything he thought and felt before he could cling onto it. 

It made him feel cold, and empty, and just like the Upside Down felt. 

“We don’t have time!”

El was insisting on contacting the others. She was livid with them for abandoning Steve, but things were taking a turn for the small group trapped in that hellscape. 

“Steve’s right. If there’s a demogorgon there, that means the Mind Flayer has gotten some strength back, wherever he is.”

Steve nodded at Will gratefully.

“But, what’s the idea? You two open the gate. Then what? We wait for those things to come through to our side?” Jonathan asked, kinda harshly, if you ask Steve.

Steve rubbed his eyes, his fists pressing against them so hard he was seeing odd shapes. 

“No. I go through. I get them. I bring them back.” His head was a fucking mess. Billy was all over the place. Fear, desperation, and a horrible calm that only came when things looked like the end. Plant your feet, he thought, trying to get his feelings to Billy through the thin dimensional wall. Don’t stop fighting. “For the past few days, all I’ve been able to feel is somebody else’s fucking fear and this stupid stupid stubbornness and I know it’s Billy, and I know he’s in trouble. Like right now. The demogorgons are coming for them, and he’s so scared. He’s so fucking scared and he thinks he’s gonna die, and he’s trapped .”

He looked at each person individually, glaring at them all in the eye. 

“We don’t have time.”

So it was decided. 

He brought El outside, and stared into the shimmering water of the pool. 

The pool where a demon came out and dragged Barbara to her death. 

It gave him the fucking creeps. Well, it more gave him the severe anxiety, but there was something about it that made it seem like it was the best place to try and rip the fold between himself and Billy. 

Drive them back. We’re coming. 

He wanted Billy to have some hope. Something like a lifeline that would keep him fighting the monsters. 

He had wrenched his nail bat out of the wall it was still planted in from a few nights ago, and stood next to El, ready to try. 

“To be honest, I don’t know how to help you.” It was the only thing that scared him about this plan. “I don’t have the same powers as you. The telekin-the moving stuff around. I don’t know how to open this.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. 

“In Chicago. Kali. When I’m angry my powers are better,” she took his hand. “Make me angry.”

Steve closed his eyes. 

He tried to push Billy to the side, clinging onto the first bit of El he could sense. 

Her anger was like a melted core running through her. Driving her in a lot of ways. 

He grabbed onto it. 

Papa. Everything he did to your mama. Being locked in isolation. Fights with Hopper. Being trapped in the cabin. Feeling alone and not knowing how to fix it. New kids at school being mean. Techs in the lab that treated us like rats. The smell of skin burning. Parents that called you a freak. 

He didn’t know when he had stopped using El’s ready-made rage, and began siphoning his own straight into the beating heart of her fury. 

His gut began to feel white-hot, and he could feel the blood dripping down his lip. 

Lying to everyone. Being abandoned for the truth. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. 

Steve was livid. 

He’s never felt an emotion consume him like this. Felt one feeling take over so completely it’s like there was nothing else in the world. 

He opened his eyes. 

There was blood flowing steadily from El’s nose, and he knew his was doing the same. 

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, his body going into overdrive to divert all of his energy to his powers. 

The rift glowed red through the clear pool water, splitting open like a seam on a well-worn shirt. 

The burn on his arm ached, and he pushed into it. 

He remembered being held down on his father’s desk. Remembers the cigar being forced against his skin, bubbling up and disfiguring the tattoo beyond recognition. 

He remembers his father, this is for your own good, Steven. You’ll tell everyone you had an accident. People won’t question a burn like they will a tattoo. 

Like no one would take one look at the quarter-sized mark and know what would make it. 

He remembers getting the tattoo. 

It was nearly the same process. 

He was strapped down in a chair, his screams going ignored as the needle drove into his skin over and over, leaving a neat black number behind. 

001

Number One. 

The first in a series of children bred for something more, and beaten into acceptance. 

His head felt like it could explode. He didn’t know what was going on around him, was barely aware of El’s sweaty hand in his, and the bright red light coming from the cracked bottom of the pool. 

It was open. 

Number One took a deep breath, and dived into the pool. 

-

It was the little one that noticed it. 

Billy had been trying to yell at him to get back inside, to keep himself out of harm’s way. 

They had killed six demogorgons, and more were certainly coming. 

The trees in the forest were rustling in a way they never did on their own. 

The little one was pointing frantically, his eyes wide and scared. 

Billy turned, and his blood ran cold. 

Something was moving in the pool. 

It was making the thick non-water slosh around dangerously, the dark liquid lapping over the sides and staining the concrete. 

There were vines crisscrossing over the surface of the liquid, and Billy approached it carefully, hoping whatever was coming out would be trapped underneath them. 

“This is the last fucking thing we need,” Hopper gritted out, cocking his rifle and aiming at the sludge. 

And then Billy’s head felt like it had been cracked open. 

He was blinded with pain and rage and 

Help me, Hargrove!

He started swinging his ax wildly at the vines. Trying to break them apart enough for a body to fit through. 

His heart thundered in his chest, and he dropped to his knees, ripping at the slimy black tendrils. 

He shoved his left arm in.

It was like dousing his arm in ice. Like the liquid was made from the purest essence of cold. 

He searched frantically with his hand, finding something solid and yanking with all his strength. 

He had to put both arms in, grabbing hold of whatever he could, using his body weight as leverage to extract Steve from the cold. 

He was limp when Billy finally got him out, but breathing heavily. 

He opened his eyes, wiping his face free of the goop and blood covering him, and grinned at Billy. 

“Told’ya we would get you out.”

They shepherd him inside, most of the gang speechless and struck dumb from the events of the past while. 

Steve was given a change of almost clean clothes, and allowed to use some of their bottled water ration to clean the freezing black fluid from himself. 

He wasted little time, and was down in the Upside Down version of his living room with everyone else. 

“We can’t be long. El had to use a lot of strength to open it, but she’ll need her strength to close it, too.” 

Nobody knew what in the fuck Steve was going on about. 

Nobody but Hopper, that is. 

He still had disgusting pool sludge all over his front from when he pulled Steve into a tight hug when he had gotten his bearings back from his journey through the rift. 

“We can’t send people through that shit. It took all of Billy’s muscle to get you outta there.”

“So we drain it,” Steve insisted. “My parents drain it sometimes, I know how to do it.”

“I’ll keep watch. Make sure nothing tries to make itself known.”

Billy had barely wiped himself off. 

He didn’t care anymore about how freezing that shit was, he just wanted to surge forward, and get back the fuck home.

Hopper studied them both.

“Bring weapons. Yell if you need help.”

Billy nodded once, and turned on his heel, following Steve out the back door. 

Steve led him to a wooden shed on the side of the house. Billy had to clear the vines away from it before Steve could pry open the doors. 

It was full of pool equipment, and it didn’t take long for Steve to locate a large grubby pump. He knocked it against the wall of the shed until the filter attachment clattered off, leaving bigger openings for the sludge to, hopefully, run through. 

“Shit. This thing is electric. You got electricity?” 

It was the first time Steve had really gotten a good look at Steve since being in the Upside Down. 

He looked exactly as he had in the void place. His hair had a lot more disgusting black fluid in it, and he overall looked kinda shitty with the flecks of grime and blood on his face, but he looked bright. Alive. Strong. 

“How did you do it? Take me to that place. Figure out we were here.” 

Steve flushed. Billy had become overly aware that his face was completely covered under his bandana. Steve should cover his face. 

He drew another one of his back pocket, and, he didn’t know why, but he tied it around Steve’s face. 

Seriously, he could’ve just handed it to the guy and called it good there. But no. He had to set his ax on the ground, propped against his leg, wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and tie the bandana like this was some intricate ritual. 

All while Steve just stared at him with those fuckin’ eyes of his. 

“It’s a long story.” Billy could barely hear Steve speak through the dirty cloth now covering his mouth and nose. “I’ll tell you when we’re back. When we’re safe.”

“I’m holding you to that, Harrington. Can’t have a guy poking around my dreams and shouting in my head without knowing his intentions.”

It was as close to flirting as Billy dared right now. 

Right before they tried to journey between worlds. 

“Good to know you heard me. I was trying to give you something of a pep talk.”

“Well, it worked. I would’ve just put my arms out and let those things rip me to shreds if I hadn’t have known.”

Billy didn’t know what Steve’s face was doing behind the cloth, but his eyes dropped, and Billy imagined that little cinch of his mouth that he had noticed Steve doing so much in that void place.

-

Billy meant it as a joke. 

He really did. 

And the Billy that was torn to bits in the mall wasn’t this Billy. Wasn’t the real Billy that was made out of real Billy materials and real Billy personality. 

But it still made Steve feel queasy, thinking about his arms spread wide, black goop pouring out of his mouth and nose as the Mind Flayer decimated him. 

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Billy. Just, not now.” 

And Steve turned off, hauling the pump back to the pool and taking calming breaths. 

The pump sank without much effort, like there was some kind of gravitational pull at the bottom of the pool. 

Steve had connected the thickest hose he could find, adn sent Billy off with the extension cord to find an outlet that didn’t spark and threaten fire. 

Before no time, the pump was humming, and pushing black slime through the hose and onto the dead grass. 

They didn’t need to get it all out, just as much as they could shove everyone through. 

Steve closed his eyes, trying to reach El like he had Billy. 

We had a hold up. Shouldn’t be long. 

He could feel her on the other side. 

She promised she would stay close enough to the rift that Steve could get in touch with her. 

He could feel something slither down his spine, a wordless confirmation from her. 

The liquid in the pool was slowly edging down, leaving a stain on the once-white walls of the pool. 

“Gather everyone up. Tell ‘em to meet out here. Tell ‘em to leave it all behind.”

Billy was still staring at the edge of the forest when he commanded Steve. 

It was odd, being in his house that’s not his house. 

Everything was so. Wrong. 

From the way the house seemed to be crumbling down, reduced to its studs in some areas, to the way it was still clearly his house. Paintings his father had bought. Elegant furniture his mother selected. 

It was all there. Just under a thick layer of dirt and nightmares. 

He thought idly about his bedroom, wondering if it would look like it did on his end. A little messy, the sheets typically rumpled and unmade. 

He resisted the urge to wander upstairs, reminding himself he was on a mission. 

“It’s time. Don’t bring anything. It’ll probably be ruined along the way.”

Everyone looked grave. Steve tried to smile at them, tried to push through some calmness to them all. He had forgotten Billy’s bandana was tied around his face. He sent one last wave of quiet confidence around the room, and led the group through the kitchen. 

They had barely rounded the corner of the kitchen island when they heard a strangled yell from outside. 

Steve put his head down, and sprinted through the shattered glass doors, skidding to a halt in the threshold. 

Billy was staggering backward, his ax forgotten on the ground and his left hand was clinging wildly to his right shoulder. 

His jacket was in tatters, thick blood dripping bright crimson down his arm, standing out like neon against the dark, dirty ground. 

Steve didn’t feel himself moving forward. He didn’t feel his hands raising in front of him. 

He just felt anger. The same anger from before that had ripped through him like a raging forest fire and straight into El. 

The thing shrieked. 

It backed away from Billy, twisting and writhing as its horrible screams filled the air, making the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end. 

Fierce fury was exploding out of him, and he grit his teeth against the pounding in his head. 

“You don’t get to hurt him,” Steve barely barked out. 

All went still, and the demogorgon snapped into pieces. 

Steve felt like he could pass out where he stood. 

He had never felt so wrung dry. 

His vision was waning at the edges, and he felt an arm around his waist, coaxing him toward the red light now barely shining through a thin layer of slime in the pool. 

“Hold your breath, Pretty Boy.”

-

Steve was limp against him, and Billy was doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his right shoulder as he held Steve close to his side. He had fumbled off both of their face coverings, moving clumsily through the pain of his injury. 

He took one last breath, and jumped into the rip between worlds. 

He plunged into the water, the crystal blue of a chlorinated pool. 

It was the best feeling in the world. 

Being covered and surrounded by clean. The heated water doing more to soothe Billy’s frayed nerves than anything in his life. 

He kicked hard, swimming one-armed to the surface, Harrington a dead weight in his injured arm. 

His head broke the water, and he took in deep lungfuls of clean, crisp air. 

Someone was tugging at Steve, and Billy, for the first time in his fucking life, was glad to see those kids Max was constantly hanging around. 

A woman Billy didn’t know was fawning over Steve, feeling for a pulse, and looking relieved when she felt his hot breath against her palm. 

“There’s more coming,” Billy coughed. 

He barely managed to get the words out, dripping muck and grime on the cement by the pool, when it felt as though he was hit from the side by a speeding train. 

He buried his nose in bright orange hair, hugging Max back as tightly as he could manage. 

He was exhausted, and feeling her there, alive and okay, was all that was keeping him standing. 

“I thought, I mean, we all thought you were dead. We saw it. That thing killed you .” Billy realized, with a whole lotta horror, that she was crying. Sobbing outright into his dirty chest. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” How could they have seen when that monster just came at him? 

“Oh, you’re bleeding.”

And if she only just realized he was hurt?

Max frog-marched Billy inside, to a very pale-looking Nancy Wheeler, sitting ready with a first aid kit. 

Billy had to peel his clothes off his body, the fabric stuck to him like a second skin. 

Nobody was speaking, and more of the people locked in the other place came traipsing into the room, fluffy towels wrapped around their shoulders. 

Hopper was the last to come in, holding the woman tight to his side underneath the striped pool towel. 

“Steve and El are closing it back up.”

There was a quiet murmur around the room.

Nancy patched up Billy’s shoulder, Max still stuck to his side like glue, the little boy from camp pasted to his other side. 

He had no idea how much time had past when Steve finally came traipsing into the room with Max’s little friend, both of them sporting matching bloody noses. 

Steve looked like shit. 

His face was covered in blood, old and new, and he still had some of the gross not-liquid in his hair from the Upside Down. 

But Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see someone in his life. 

“I’m sure everyone has questions,” said the woman tucked against Hop’s side. El, Billy assumes, had taken her place on Hop’s other side, wrapping the towel around her shoulders as well. 

The woman launched into a story that made Billy feel like his brain was oozing out of his ears. 

A monster. One they had all met before. Playing body snatcher in their sleepy little town. 

Apparently, one had been wearing a Billy meat-suit and wreaking havoc around town, which made Billy wanna throw up until he died. 

Which, not-Billy, had died. Fuckin’ brutally. And in front of everyone. Which sure as shit explained why Max wouldn’t let go of his sweaty hand. 

The story made Billy queasy, and he took to studying everyone in the room instead. 

All the kids were there, even the one that had been following Steve around like a little shadow, but they were all glaring in the very much opposite direction of Steve. 

Steve himself was pressed almost against the wall, looking like he’d collapse if the wall weren’t supporting him. 

“What’s up with the cold shoulder?” Billy muttered to Max.

“They’re mad at Steve right now. He’s been lying to us all.”

It was all he got out of her before everyone started moving around. 

The woman, Joyce Byers, he’s learned, had finished her story, and the group from the Upside Down had begun clamoring for rides home, or maybe something to eat. 

Billy just saw Steve manage to slip away before he followed him. 

It took some doing, shaking off the little one, who still wasn’t speaking, and looked ready to burst into tears when Billy told him to stay behind in the living room. 

But Janet Holloway took the kid’s other hand and gently led him back into the living room. 

Billy nodded at her, and sped up the stairs. 

It was weird, being in Harrington’s actual room. 

It was messy, and looked like Steve spent most of his time here tossing clothes on the ground or twisting up in his bed covers like a tornado. 

But it was oddly comforting. 

Being in Steve’s real room, and not some perverse dirty copy. 

Steve was standing, facing the bed, peeling his borrowed jacket from his shoulders and leaving it there on the floor.

“I never said thank you.”

Steve startled at Billy’s voice.

“Yeah. No problem.” Steve’s tone was light and airy, but Billy heard him sniff.

“Max said the little shitbirds are mad at you. Something about you lying.” 

Steve turned around, giving Bily a watery smile.

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

So Steve told him. 

About the lab. 

About the experiments. 

About the torture. 

He explained that he had rules. Never making anyone feel something they already didn’t. Never altering someone’s opinion of, or feelings towards him. 

Billy grit his teeth as he imagined Wheeler giving Steve a hard time about that.

Steve was silent for a moment, not looking at Billy.

“It’s okay if you hate me. I mean, everyone does now.”

“You'd be able to feel if I hated you. You and those powers of yours just saved my life, Pretty Boy. I’m pretty sure I’m feeling the farthest thing from hatred just about now.”

It was as close to a confession as Billy would let himself get. 

But if Steve knows what he’s feeling at any given moment, then that means that he knows, and he didn’t-

“Quit it. Insecurity isn’t a good look on you.”

Steve sounded tired, and he flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms out. 

At first, it didn’t sit quite right with Billy. 

He had barely even begun to identify what he was feeling when Steve swooped in and just point blank told him what the emotion was. 

Billy spent nearly all of his time being a big fuckin’ facade. 

He tried his very best to hide any emotional tell from anyone around him. 

He prided himself on being a chameleon. That nobody would ever truly know how he felt in any given situation. 

And here’s pretty boy Steve Harrington. Who is feeling just as, if not more, strongly as Billy is. 

But, it takes out all the parts of emotions that Billy hates dealing with. 

Showing them. Talking about them. 

He’d never once had to grapple with the words to explain how he feels to Steve. 

Steve would just. 

He’d know. 

And god, that’s kind of a nice idea. 

Billy sat down gently on the bed. 

“Alright.”

Steve’s head popped up to stare incredulously at Billy. 

Billy just grinned at him. 

[btsqualityy]

Assuage: Chapter 19

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

“You did what?!” Taehyung screamed and everyone in the room cringed from the sheer volume of his voice. After the chaos of the day, everyone was gathered in Namjoon and Hyorin’s cabin in an attempt to regroup and discuss what needed to happen next. 

“Tae, let it go,” Jungkook whispered but Taehyung shook his head as he looked at his brother. 

“Fuck that! I can’t believe you kicked Yoongi hyung out of the pack!” Taehyung yelled. 

“It’s what had to be done,” Namjoon shrugged. “His loyalties came into question and I had to make a judgement call.”

“Oh yeah, so damn near choking him out was a part of that judgement call?” Taehyung scoffed.

“What?” You spoke up and everyone looked over at you as you were laid out on the couch, your head placed in Hyorin’s lap as she stroked your hair. “Joon.”

“He put the pack at risk, not to mention the fact that he betrayed you, Y/N-ah and Tae and all of us,” Namjoon pointed out. “Me choking him was honestly the least harmful thing that I could’ve done to him in that moment.”

“But he has nowhere to go and you know that!” Taehyung chastised. 

“That’s not my fault Taehyung,” Namjoon spat back. 

“Yeah well, you’re no better than Seo-hyun then,” Taehyung snorted and everyone in the room froze. 

“Tae Tae,” Jimin tsked in disapproval but Namjoon held his hand up, silencing him. 

“You know Tae, I realize that as our spoiled younger brother, the concept of responsibility may be lost on you but to me, it’s not,” Namjoon started. “As Pack Alpha, it is my job to ensure this pack’s safety. That means you, Y/N-ah, my mate, my pups, and everyone else that belongs to this pack.”

“So that means you would kick a member of this pack out if you thought that they endangered it? Even by accident?” Taehyung questioned.

“Yes, because that’s what has to be done sometimes,” Namjoon shot back. “Making difficult choices is what comes along with being Pack Alpha and it’s hard but you do what needs to be done in order to preserve the futures of the people who trust you. It’s a thankless job but I do it, without hesitation or reservation, because I fucking care and the last thing that I need is bullshit flack from one of the main people that I’m trying to look out for.”

“Joon hyung,” Taehyung tried to say but Namjoon swiftly turned his back and walked over to the front door, yanking it open and storming out. Hobi looked over at Hyorin and after receiving a nod from her, followed behind him and shut the door as he left.

“God, I can’t believe him,” Taehyung huffed as he began to pace back and forth around the living room. 

“That was a low blow Taehyung, and you know it,” you admonished him. “Joon just did what he thought was best.”

“And you know how he can get sometimes,” Hyorin added. “Joon’s extremely intelligent but he’s still an Alpha and you know how Alphas react when they or the people that they care about have been threatened.”

“That’s no excuse though,” Taehyung replied.

“It’s just different for Alphas, Tae,” Jungkook said. “As much as I don’t agree with what Joon hyung did, I can’t say that I wouldn’t have done the same if I were in his position. It’s about principle.”

“Fuck principle!” Taehyung exclaimed. 

“This is all my fault,” you whispered suddenly and everyone immediately looked at you, shaking their heads firmly.

“No, it’s not,” Jin told you. “You fell in love and you can’t be blamed for that.”

“Yeah, but I fell in love with a lone wolf that we didn’t know from a hole in the wall,” you sniffled. “I didn’t even ask him to explain more about his old pack because I didn’t want to be insensitive but look where that got me. Where it got us.”

“It’s not like you knew,” Jimin tried to say. “And don’t blame yourself for trying to be respectful of someone’s trauma, there’s never anything wrong with that.”

“Jimin’s right, you don’t need to beat yourself up over this,” Hyorin agreed. 

“But I can’t help but to feel so fucking dumb,” you huffed. “I let him spend my heat with me Hyo, all because my Omega liked his Alpha and I let that cloud my judgement. I should’ve thought things through more and not have rushed into it.”

“You let him spend your heat with you based on what you knew about him at the time,” Hyorin pointed out. “And don’t blame your Omega. Our wolf side doesn’t always follow the same logic as our human side but you know your Omega would never knowingly lead you astray. If your Omega trusted him, it’s because he made you feel like you could.”

“Something is off about all of this,” Taehyung announced suddenly, making everyone look over at him. “This entire situation just isn’t making sense.”

“What are you talking about?” Jin wondered.

“Y/N-ah, did you let Yoongi hyung explain when he came to talk to you?” Taehyung asked and you arched an eyebrow.

“What was there to explain Tae?” You questioned. 

“I just don’t know if any of us should be taking Seo-hyun’s word at face value,” Taehyung explained. “We don’t know that there’s any truth to what he said other than him saying it and we all know he’s a liar and a master manipulator.”

“For your information, yes, Yoongi told me himself that he was from Seo-hyun’s pack and that he knew Seo-hyun was the one who killed our parents,” you revealed. “But even if he didn’t, just the fact that he either belonged or still belongs to that pack is enough for me to never want to see his face or smell his scent again.”

“Maybe you should back off a little Tae Tae,” Jimin suggested. 

“Fine,” Taehyung huffed, reaching out and grabbing Jungkook’s hand before stalking over to the front door, pausing only to throw it open before stomping out. 

“You know, I really think you should calm down,” Jungkook told him as they walked down the front steps of the cabin. “We should head home and get some sleep.”

“You go, I’m gonna go to the Head Hall,” Taehyung shook his head.

“I really don’t think Joon hyung wants to talk right now.”

“No, not to see him,” Taehyung rolled his eyes as he began to walk away from Jungkook. “I’m going to look through some history records.”

“History records?” Jungkook repeated. “History records of what?”

“The Great Pack War,” Taehyung smirked knowingly and Jungkook groaned loudly, knowing that his fiancée was up to something. 

“I knew he wasn’t going to let this go,” Jungkook whispered to himself as he followed behind Taehyung.

..........................................

Since joining the Kim’s Pack, Yoongi hadn’t allowed himself to reflect back on the 10 years that he spent as a part of Seo-hyun’s pack but as he roamed around the woods carrying only a backpack and a duffle bag full of clothes while trying to find shelter for the night, it was almost as if his mind couldn’t help but to go back to that dark time. 

Of course, his life in that pack wasn’t always completely horrible. As a pack comprised mostly of Prime Alphas, they were always seen as desirable so there was always an ample amount of Omegas to fuck and that were willing to treat him like a King. In addition to that, being in a pack with several amazing hunters and builders meant that food was always plentiful and the cabins that they lived in would’ve been the stuff of royalty, if they had been living in medieval times. 

However, for every positive thing that Yoongi could remember about that pack, he could counter it with two negative things. Toxic masculinity was the basically the law that Seo-hyun’s pack lived by, and Yoongi couldn’t even remember how many times he had been referred to as weak by Seo-hyun and most of the other Alphas in the pack because he wasn’t a complete asshole like them.

He remembered how they would starve him if he didn’t hunt big enough animals. He remembered how getting into fist fights with other Alphas in the pack was the only way that he could somewhat prove himself and his worth. He could even remember the time when Seo-hyun demanded that he be chained up outside, in the dead of winter, all because he had given a pregnant Omega one of his extra blankets for her nest. 

Yoongi’s life had been like a rollercoaster every since the Great Pack War had started and he had thought that maybe he had finally found a stable life that could make him happy with the Kim Pack. Boy, did he feel foolish now. 

After walking for over an hour, Yoongi managed to find an abandoned cabin. After searching through it and finding no signs of human or animal life, he set his bags down and began to look through it. The cabin seemed to have been abandoned for a good while, so Yoongi figured that it was as good a place as any to stay while he figured out his next moves. 

“I don’t even know what the fuck that would be,” Yoongi muttered to himself as he spread a blanket onto the old, ratty couch that was placed in what Yoongi assumed was once the living room before laying down on top of it. Actually, as he thought about it, Yoongi realized that this was the first time in his life that he had ever been truly alone. Sure, he felt alone after his parents died and he was left in Seo-hyun’s pack, and he had felt alone when he first joined the Kim’s Pack but there was something different about now. 

Without any other bodies around, Yoongi found the silence deafening and with only his own thoughts to keep him company, he could only hope that he wouldn’t be forced to be left alone with them for too much longer. 

..........................................

Tag List:  @jikook-enthusiasts @veryuniquenamegoeshere @seolarsyj @littlrmills14-blog @preciouschimine @kt-rny @copenhagenspirit @min-yus​ @cheysjimin

[softjaehyvn]

memories of him, last winter | j.jh

— slight angst & fluff

∞

last winter was the last time he was yours.

you would always go and spend your winter break together in a cabin, somewhere up in the mountains and would turn your phones off and lock them away, so you could relax from all the stress. you would watch movies, eat dinner together, give each other christmas presents and have the time of your life. they were always great memories — always full of showing each other how much you loved each other after you couldn‘t do that when both of you were busy with your working lives.

jung yoonoh was the love of your life. he still is the love of your life. after a long, content relationship, everything slowly started going downhill. starting with that he couldn‘t take those two weeks off last winter to go to your yearly trip to the cabin. he was so busy, that he simply wasn‘t able to take a break. so, you went there all by yourself. you felt so lonely there, everything you saw there reminded you of him.

sometimes you simply missed him.

those two weeks were the cause of a lot of your fights and uncomfortable moments with him. you were constantly complaining about things he did, just the way he would complain about everything you did that wasn‘t

after your break-up with him, you had moved out of his place and moved to your friend for a while until you had found your own place.

slowly, you had gotten used to the fact that he was gone now. yet, you felt lonely all by yourself at home. you missed him, you missed the way he would just hug you from behind when you‘d be cooking something and he had been able to come home earlier than planned. you missed the way his lips on your skin would feel when he‘d just press a light kiss on your jaw.

you didn‘t know if it was the alcohol in your system that made you call him or if it was just your heart still wanting to be with him.

“helloooo“, you babbled into the microphone of your phone. “i missed you.“ you added and waited patiently for him to reply. he didn‘t for a few seconds though.

“what do you want?“

the coldness in his voice made your skin shiver and you looked at your phone to make sure that it was yoonoh you called. when you saw his name on the screen, you were surprised at the way he talked to you. what was going on that his voice was so cold and without any kind of emotion?

“i missed you, yoonoh“, you repeated, this time your voice was a lot more clearer than before. “even if i first drunk called you, i miss you. can we maybe… meet up and talk?“

there was nothing. when you once again checked your phone, you saw that the call ended. you weren‘t sure whether he hung up himself or if there was a problem with the connection. you didn‘t check again either and also didn‘t call him again. the way his voice sounded so cold and like he simply didn‘t care about anything related to you, made you sip a little water so you could sober up a little. when you finally had a slightly clearer mind, you checked your phone again. you then saw a message there:

“sorry, the connection broke off, i‘ll call you later when i‘m back home.“

he never called back.

—

you did expect him to call back, though. it slightly made you sad that he didn‘t care about you as much as you still did about him. at least that was how you thought he was feeling about you.

because you didn‘t know that he was holding his phone in his hand so many times, yet not calling you ever back.

yoonoh was in his office and was waiting for you to maybe call so he could excuse himself with his workload. he felt dumb for being weak like this — it wasn‘t a secret that he was still missing you, everyone around him knew about his feelings for you. the breakup a few months ago was still something he regret deeply and he would never really stop thinking about that very moment you left him for good.

he wanted to call you, yet didn‘t have the courage to do so because he wasn‘t sure how you would take it.

you slowly had gotten tired of waiting for him, which is why you decided to call him one more time. you needed to hear his voice for some reason, you didn‘t really know what was going on with you in that moment. you just had to.

“hello?“

a light smile appeared on your lips when you heard his soft, yet deep voice over your phone‘s speaker.

“i missed you“, you blurted out, not even caring about anything anymore. you just needed to see him, at least talk everything out. even if you wouldn‘t manage to solve your problems, you just wanted to see him and talk out everything you couldn‘t a few months ago. maybe it would lead to you two managing to solve your problems slowly.

when you broke up with yoonoh, you didn‘t talk. you simply didn‘t try to communicate or try to understand the other one. you constantly had yelled at each other, didn‘t try to hear each other out.

you regret so many things you had told him back then.

“i missed you, too. i‘m sorry for treating you so badly back when we broke up. can we maybe try to talk this out?“, he asked you. “i‘d love to see you again.“

you smiled a little at his shaky voice and then finally replied with a soft ‘yes. let‘s meet up’ before you finally set up a time and a place to meet.

maybe this time you would manage to speak about both your feelings and this time without the screaming and yelling at each other. you were happy that he offered himself to meet up and talk. there were so many things you were happy about in that moment.

maybe this time, you wouldn‘t have to get lost in the memories of him from last winter. maybe this time, you would be able to go and do all the things you used to do once again with him.

—

main taglist | @n8dlesoupguk @wownajaemin @loviehyuck @winniet

[yanderecandystore]

Alien imposter darling here to eat crewmates and maybe have eggs

Okay, so- I actually didn't understand what you meant at first, and I'm really sorry about that, but-

How about I pull a double headcanon on this one? Because I couldn't tell if you wanted a yandere imposter x human darling or a yandere human x imposter darling, how about we have both just because?!

Tw/Tags: oviposition?? In my blog? Seems more likely than you (and I) think! // NSFW boo // also I'm not really assuming any genders here?? Don't know why, I just thought it would be nice as you didn't specify, so anyone can choose how this situation will go down // alien x human dynamic // not accurate to the game but hey, that's exactly why we're here // actually after rereading your ask I realized what you said, but I'll keep with the double hc just because?? // Your colors are up to you // both parts are very similar with some changes implemented.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Double date (lol)! [Yandere!Among Us x Reader - Headcanons]:

→ Yandere Imposter x Human Reader:

Okay, so- how about we began with a little short introduction? An alien invasive creature entered the spaceship wanting to feast and procreate inside the ship.

This creature managed to blend in with ease and started their plan successfully.

That creature being your fellow "crewmate".

God, you felt terrible doing this. You felt terrible being part of this. Things were never supposed to go this way.

You thought that if you helped them, if you didn't expose them to all the other crewmates they would have stopped killing everyone. That they would have mercy for your companions and for you.

You shouldn't have protected them. You shouldn't have let your feelings overthrow your logical thinking, but I guess that's what happens when you fall in love with an alien.

You just hope you made the right decision by being forever stuck in this spaceship with your new spouse. You may never come back home, but that's okay as long as you don't bring this creature to your planet.

As long as you two have each other, you'll be fine, right?

Oh dearest, I hope you like having an obsessive alien lover, because I don't think you'll be able to walk for a long time. They'll take care of you regardless of if you're the one holding the eggs, or if it's them.

They'll absolutely love to go all out on you, seeing you squirm while holding you tight and putting their eggs inside you.

Or maybe they would ask you to cum inside them. Your dna mixing into what will soon be beautiful children that they'll gladly take care off.

Whichever situation may be, you'll see the expression of an absolutely lustful creature that doesn't want anything more than to be one with you, to build a family with you if not an whole empire of hybrids.

A creature so indulged into their own fantasies and obsession that just the smallest of noises you make, the vibration passing from your body to theirs, the faster movements creating more and more friction between your sex and theirs, is enough to send them to the sun and back. May Jesus take the wheel, you two are going to be here for a long time.

This once silent and lonely spaceship is going to be filled with life once again.

→ Yandere Human x Imposter Reader:

Okay, so- how about we began with a little short introduction? An alien invasive creature entered the spaceship wanting to feast and procreate inside the ship.

This creature managed to blend in with ease and started their plan successfully.

That creature being you yourself.

Who would've thought that you were such a sneaky killer? Be proud [Y/N], be very proud, as there was only one human left-

"- Marry me."

Or… well, partially human. Your plan hasn't gone as well as you thought it would, I mean, you thought that you have chosen a perfect mate to take care of your young, but sometimes you can't tell if you're the true danger around here or not.

You well, started to feel very fond of this particular human, especially when they haven't screamed or tried to throw you off the ship after you showed yourself to them. They have proven to be quite useful when it comes to helping you get off of the other crew member's main suspect.

Because of them, no one suspected a thing.

But you didn't expect a human to be so… Into the idea of having offsprings with non terrestrial beings, especially when the creature in the spotlight has killed most of your friends! You felt terrible betraying the trust of most of the crewmates inside, yet your partner couldn't bother less about them.

"- I never cared about any of them, they weren't really my friends, you know?"

Dearest, you made the right choice, trust me. Regardless of whether each of you will be carrying the eggs, they'll always make sure to provide and take care of you and your offspring.

Pin them down if you're the type to. Fill them until they forget how to stand up without help. They'll gladly take your eggs.

Or maybe you prefer if it was reversed. After all, chances are that you carrying the eggs is a lot safer than them carrying it, as, well, you know, you're an alien and they're a mere little human.

Whichever situation may be, you'll see the expression of an absolutely lustful creature that doesn't want anything more than to be one with you, to build a family with you if not an whole empire of hybrids.

A creature so indulged into their own fantasies and obsession that just the smallest of noises you make, the vibration passing from your body to theirs, the faster movements creating more and more friction between your sex and theirs, is enough to send them to the sun and back. May Jesus take the wheel, you two are going to be here for a long time.

This once silent and lonely spaceship is going to be filled with life once again.

A wild extra part has appeared!? [Extra]:

→ Yandere Imposter x Imposter Reader:

This is a just for shit and giggles, but basically:

Imagine having a "healthy" relationship with your fellow alien partner and you two are like: yo, let's make out in the spaceship!

And is like-

Morticia Addams and Gomez Addams levels of partners in crime?? Like, yes, we killed everyone, so let's make out!

Your partner has been pretty suspicious about how everyone keeps observing you and "interrogating you".

"- Oh come on! Did you fall for that?? It was so obvious they were drooling over you." They remembered, god, so unbearable how they all tried to throw you out on space!

"- And what did I do, dearest?" You ask seductively, because why not? Tease them endlessly, you can do it.

"- …. You stabbed them… Repetitively."

"- Because?~"

"- Sigh… You love me?"

"- Exactly."

A bunch of little imposter crewmates were born from love that day. Can you imagine a spaceship absolutely wrecked with many, many eggs all around??

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

I actually wasn't expecting oviposition to be a topic around my blog. Not really complaining, just surprised 👁️👄👁️

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[my-misplaced-stew]

Could I get a ship?

I'm a straight female with freckles (like a lot) (I'm pale as hell and I don't tan I just burn and then get more freckles) , green eyes, and brown shoulder length hair. I'm a bit on the chubby side and and very short (five feet tall)

I am a Sagittarius (tho I don't belive in that sort of stuff) and have a mediator personality on the Briggs scale.

I love to bake, sew, crochet, draw, etc... Basically anything where I get to create something. I love seeing an idea come to life.

I'm constantly making things and I like to fidget with anything I get my hands on (meaning I have a habit of breaking stuff) (seriously I will fidget with something until it breaks) (please take it from me).

I keep freshwater aquariums and love the process of building tanks and decorating them. I especially love shrimp because they are adorable. (And kulhi loaches) (and plecos) (and mystery snails) (and everything else I own). I love my fish....

I constantly crave affection (but will never admit to that) I really love cuddling, and am definitely touch starved but anyone who knows that has figured it out themselves. Because for some reason my brain thinks I don't deserve any of it.

I also have constant chronic pain. It is literally everywhere but is the worst in the lower back, neck, and hands. Its usually not that bad, just kinda in the background, but sometimes it gets so bad I can't really move without wanting to scream(or move at all) . I know that rubbing it helps a bit, along with heat but I as mentioned above, I don't touch people often.

I am way too nice to everyone, even at my own expense and tend to Bury my emotions when I am in pain. I have Depression and some anxiety and tend to go into self hatred spirals that make me try to isolate myself (and do some other stuff that's not so good for me).

I am shy , easily flustered, and awkward, But I will talk your ear off if you get to know me or bring up something I alive.

I like being in nature, alone and far from others. I like hearing the birds calls and the other noises. (Plus if there is a lake I will stare at fish) (yes I have problems).

I am just now realizing that this is probably way too long......

Anyway thanks in advance if you do answer this :)

There's no need to apologize! The more info on a match up request = the more detailed matchup :]

I match you up with

Medic!

At first the main times you two interacted was to help with your chronic pain. He isn't the best at it but a mix of some massages and the medigun it helps a lot. He will reccomend some physical exercises as well as some therapy. He's not the best but he tries. When he finds out about your fidgeting he will give you some fidget toys be found but when you accidentally break them he will find one that can't break. It takes a while but he eventually he finds one. It's a little fish that can move around [in the style of those 3D printed slugs]. He finds it nice that there's finally someone to talk to, he does get a bit lonely in his lab. Sometimes he will let you sit with him while he works, he enjoys the calmness of it all. Loves the stuff you crochet! If you make something for him [or even for his doves] he will love you to the ends on the earth. The doves love the hell out of you, they will perch on you and follow you around. Medic just adores the sight, makes his heart flutter.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Fix Her

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader

Pov: Dean

Warnings: Angst, fluff, sweetness on Dean's part, trying to help, depression, anxiety, panic attacks mentioned, feeling alone.

Summary: Dean notices that his girlfriend is starting to pull away. (Funny he sees when someone else is doing it) She looks so worn out. All he wants is for his girl to be happy again.

Word Count: 797

A/N- Based on the song by Brent Morgan 'The fixer' Credit given to @firefly-graphics for the divider.

Deans Master list

Main Master list

Have you ever watched the person you love so dearly break down little by little? The saddest thing about that is that you can't do a damn thing to help them.

'She's a fixer with no one to fix her'

'She's a lover who wont't love herself'

'She's a heartbreak away from a horrible place'

'Cause fixers never fix themselves'

When Y/n first came to us she was broken and so far down the rabbit hole of depression and the feeling of worthlessness. How do you help someone who's been made to feel like shit on a daily basis?

Helping her was yes a task in itself. With trying to hunt, and trying to help Y/n it had become overwhelming. But that's not something to put on her shoulders, I took the responsibility of helping her.

A good two years to get her back to healthy mental health. She smiled brighter, danced around the bunker halls, made breakfast. In the process of me spending the past two years with her, I had in short fallen in love with the bright smiled, cute laughing girl.

It was very much like having to get her out of her shell. Two years of pulling, waiting, and forcing her to get out of her shell. Promising her that I wouldn't her, promising her that she was safe to be her true self in front of me, and even in front of Sam.

'She's a fighter with no one beside her'

'In a corner alone on the ropes'

'She's a let down away from a terrible place'

'She'll fix every scar but her own'

The thing about Y/n was that she was amazing at putting all of her efforts into someone else.

If Sam came back from a hunt hurt or needed someone to talk to she was your go-to girl. She absorbs every single word and helps you get through your shit.

She tended to forget about herself. You can only the other people as long as you are helping yourself. I know what she was doing because I had done that same thing for so long.

Pushing away her own emotions, thoughts, or personal health for someone else. And not that Sam and I weren't grateful I had to explain to her that it wasn't very healthy.

She fought with all her body. When she screamed and yelled at you it was deep down. Hidden for so long. I never took offense to it, because I have known that it wasn't directed towards me.

'Oh, she fixes the lonely, fixes the broke'

'But tends to forget who needs fixin' the most'

'Buried in bandages, hiding the hell'

'Causes fixers never fix themselves'

Coming to us she was broken. Y/n is great at helping and fixing others around her. We'd go on hunts and she'd be right thereafter helping the kids or young teenagers that were scared.

'She's a liar, a calm to the fire'

She lies about being hurt and being depressed. But in the moments where it matters the most, she is calm and mature. She doesn't look like she's breaking down.

'Shamed when we all follow suit'

'She's a whisper away from a dangerous place'

'Cause lies aren't a fix from the truth'

She hates that sometimes Sam or I tend to follow her lead, we follow her when we're upset. We to can run away, we hide, we try to bat off the bad emotions, the bad feelings.

'Oh, she fixes the lonely, fixes the broke'

'But tends to forget who needs fixin' the most'

'Packed with prescription, disguising the hell'

'Cause fixers never fix themselves'

What the hell prescriptions, that's really a cover word for beer and alcohol. Her addiction to the buzz, and to the way it makes her feel. Her addiction to the high she gets to fell. The way she can sort of leave her own mind with the alcohol.

'She's a handful

'A whole lot to handle'

'But worth every thorn in my side'

The nights that I have to drag her buzz body up to her room. Yeah, it was hard on me, but there were nights that Y/n would drag me back to bed in a drunken haze. We were there for each other. And I bet you right now we were both annoyed with each other at one point.

'She's a sunset away from the darkest of days

'No fix for the fixer tonight'

'She's a sunset away from the darkest of days'

'No fic for the fixer tonight'

Every person is allowed to have their breakdowns, but she knows, Y/n knows I'm here for her. She knows that I've got her. I'm not letting go of her, I won't let her fall.

Completed on: 05/04/2021

Dean Winchesters Taglist: @akshi8278 @hit-meup69 @fofisstilinski@deanswaywardgirl @doctorlilo @wonderfulworldofwinchester

[wesimpforxiao]

A spur-of-the-moment One-shot?

Be warned, heavy angst XD DISCLAIMER: DOES NOT PERTAIN TO SAY MY NAME AND I’LL BE THERE(and no I’m not killing anyone off in that story you guys can relax cuz it’s a promise!  I’d recite Teucer’s pinkie promise lines but I can’t remember them at the moment haha)  

....

What was it that you cared most about?  Was it the village you risked your life to protect?  The safety of your friends and family?  Him?  Or your own life?

You didn’t really have time to think of an answer when yet another blow crashed into you and sent you flying into the field.  The sickening crunch of bone as you hit the ground was probably heard by your offender.  One last shot.  One last shot.  You grit your teeth through the pain and sat up, shoulder slack from the impact of their last attack.

“DIE HERE!”  A mix of ice and flame torched your attacker, their screams echoing in the dead of night until they disintegrated into ash.  But just as you thought the torment was over, your gaze fell to the ever-widening gash at your side.  “Ah.”  It appears my delusion and vision outperformed this time.  A wry chuckle left your lips, and you sank back into the dewy grass that willingly soaked the blood up like it was an offering to the soil.

What did it all mean, in the end?

Hi, Xiao.  Your whispers of a greeting reached the ears of the yaksha, who was somewhere south of here.  I know it’s late, but I just wanted to say hello.  What good would it do to call your dear friend here?  You couldn’t feel your toes anymore; the tips of your fingers were becoming numb and the palms of your hands tingled.  I hope your day went well.  Have some almond tofu for me, would ya?

The arrogation of mankind won out yet again; this was a fitting end to your self-proclamation of godhood.  That yaksha of yours would probably remind you of it if he were here right now.  Truth be told, it’d be nice to have some company in your final moments, but it wouldn’t be right to have him witness the fall of another one of his companions.

Yet he knelt beside you anyway.

“Y-You shouldn’t be here,” a miniscule smile rose upon your bloody lips.  “My village isn’t too far.  Could you be a peach and make sure everyone is alright for me?”

Xiao’s fingers trailed to your side and peeled the fabric away from your skin, his face twisting into a scowl when he caught the glint of the delusion in your hand.  “You shouldn’t have tha--”

“Come on, you know I can’t...I can’t help myself.”  Your laugh turned into a coughing fit, and he retracted his hand.  He didn’t seem at all surprised to find you at death’s door; that’s how reckless of a human you were.

“The wound is too deep.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It will be slow.”

“I know.”

“Are you in pain?”  How is she even conscious?

“I feel warm and fuzzy, nothing else.”  The yaksha observed your labored breathing for a moment, the sound of the crickets filling the gaps of silence.  “You should go.  I’d like...to die in peace.  Please.”

“Fool,” he growled.  “I will not.”  For he knew you well enough to know you wanted him, needed him here even though you said the exact opposite.  Just like him.  It was the main connection the two of you had; your minds both focused on protecting others by pushing them away.

“I’d rather not have someone,” a deep, slow breath, “watch me pass.”  He was getting a bit blurry.  “It’s creepy, you know.”  So sleepy...

“Rest here,” he encouraged with a hand warming your forehead.  He ignored the slight lump that had formed in his throat.  The death of a companion was never easy, but he’d have to bear it.  He will join his friends one day...but until then, this wouldn’t get to him.  It couldn’t.  He forced himself to hold your unsteady gaze and swallowed the hurt that began to constrict his chest.  You will not see me break in your final moment.  “Rest here, and die knowing I stayed with you to the end, friend.”

What a soft voice, a soft expression from your dear companion.  “...yes...”  You were determined to hold his gaze as long as your eyes allowed you to, and your hand met his warm one at your forehead.  “Th-Thank you, Xiao.”

The lone yaksha let out a long, heavy sigh after you took your last breath.

......

ALTERNATE ENDING (Cursing warning.  Also, this one is worse ;-;)

“Sh-Shit,” a half-hearted laugh left your lips when your hand retracted from your side to reveal a lot of blood.  “A-haha, X-Xiao’s gonna make a fuss about this.”  You forced yourself to lie down in the dewy grass, biting the inside of your cheek to refrain from yelping when your broken shoulder touched the ground.

Hey, Xiao.  You blinked the tears of both fear and pain away as you stared up at the night sky.  ‘Just breathe,’ you thought.  ‘No need to panic.’ But the searing pain within your stomach told you there was a need to freak out a bit.  You could only imagine how badly your organs were damaged...How was your day?  Sorry if my prayers are a bit repetitive.  It’s just nice to talk sometimes.

“Tch.”  Another wince of pain and suddenly Xiao was standing above you.  “Ah...you shouldn’t be here.  M-My village is...”

“Do not speak.”  The adeptus knelt beside you and peeled the fabric away from your stomach.  “Your village is fine.”

“Promise?”  Screw holding the facade, this hurt like hell.  You squirmed when his fingertips grazed you.  “Ngh! Stop!”

“The wound is too deep.”

“I know!”  Reality finally set in, and your breathing quickened in a panic.  At least the adrenaline numbed a little bit of the pain, but it paled in comparison to whatever damage was done to your stomach.  “F-fuck, get away from me.”  Your growl didn’t faze him, but something flickered across his face when you began to cough up an unruly amount of blood.

“It will be slow.”  His gaze caught yours. “Painful.”

“I-I know,” tears stung the corners of your eyes.  The pain was only getting worse.  “Please leave me to die here.  Go on, now.  You don’t have to be here.  Shoo.”

“Fool,” he sneered.  “Of course I have to.”  

“It’s creepy to watch me like this,” you forced a laugh, but more blood came up instead.  “Ugh...haah, it hurts too much.”  The yaksha stroked your hair somewhat awkwardly in an attempt to soothe you.  “X-Xiao...I...please end it.”

Xiao watched you carefully, his hand stilling.  “You want me to end your suffering?”

“Y-yes, please!”  Every breath invited a pain equivalent to being burned, every movement invited what felt like knives into your organs.  “P-Please.  I know...I know it’s a lot to ask.  But I’d rather it be by your hand.”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had to do this, but a pain still shot through him at the thought of your death.  He was looking forward to your endless bickering for the next several years, looking forward to savoring this last banter with you, but if you were in that much pain, so be it.  He summoned his polearm, and caught the brief panic in your eyes when you realized the blade was much bigger than you remembered.  “You’re certain?”

“Just...Just make it quick, please?”

He lifted you enough so he could envelop you in his embrace.  “Rest now, my companion.”

A sharp yelp echoed through the field as his blade pierced the center of your chest until it had pierced through the other side.  Your grip on his arm tightened for a few long seconds as you drew your last breaths.  “..th...thank you...”  His stiff stroking of your hair soothed your anxiety of letting go, but the stiffness wasn’t attributed to awkwardness of human contact--instead, it was grief.  Shock.  Sadness.  Whatever humans attributed this god-awful feeling to.

Yet another voice to haunt him.

So be it.

[bakugoukatsuki-rising]

I'm. The new covers, op. The new covers. Gosh. Both of them hold so much symbolism. And technically they both are canon, they are both original ideas that could perfectly be valid. Horikoshi simply found something better. But anyways, I'm going to go ahead and ramble about it because Im- Op, prepare for a long ask! Hope you like it!

So!

On the one where Katsuki's the one in the picture, he's not on his knees like he is in the other two covers. Instead, he has his face down, body forward, one hand on one leg, the other one holding out for something...He's bowing. Bowing in Japanese culture is a pretty big deal. Hes not just tilting his head a bit, his head and body are on full on commitment.

Such a tilted bow means a LOT, specially from THIS guy, Mr dont let anyone walk in front of me. Even more when hes not just bowing, but accepting such an open display of given help, Mr shonen anime lone wolf. Accepting something he always has trouble admitting to. Accepting the past, accepting the wrongs. Accepting Izukus help means so much, and that's what these three covers have in common.

His hand is sctretching out. He's ready to say yes to that hand out in the air.

(Ps. I wonder if he's watching his own reflection on the water in this panel, as well?)

Hes in middle of the picture with those childhood friend at the back, which means audience. It means letting people see what hes done, what he's sorry for. He is being open and exposed and vulnerable. That's no fighting stance.

Remember guys, in case you haven't noticed before, Horikoshi puts lots of metaphorical value in his manga and on his covers. Sometimes you've got to dig in deep and think to get the bigger picture. And in this case, the bigger picture screams regret and wanting to make things right from the start.

This cover occurs in the past, at the moment where everything started, and Katsuki fully remembers this. Katwuki has thought of this, is thinking about this. He's had eye bags for gods sake, he's clearly troubled by all of what it means.

These three covers are the visual explanation of what's going on inside Katsuki's head, because this is clearly focused on him and his perspective.

(Ps. Rivers symbolise the massage of time. If that doesnt add to everything else, I dont know what to tell you.)

So! Next!

Wow, if this isnt one of my favourite things ever. Okay. Christ.

I have two options here. Scratch that, three options. Scream into the void, scream into this post, or actually make a good presentation of my inner turmoil. I'll have to go by the third option. (Haha. Just like horikoshi did. Dont # me, I'm funny in my head.)

This cover melted my insides, froze them all over, and hit me with them like a hammer.

I know they're kids, but let me get this straight-so kids seriously look at their friends with these looks in their eyes and think "ah, yes. This is my very good friend. This gentle smile and kind look I'm giving him as if he was my whole world? Well, hes just a very good friend."

I looked at my childhood crush this way, I dont know what to tell you.

Anyway, let's actually jump to the information at hand.

This panel seems like it's making a reference to what Katsuki wishes could have been. And if that's not absolutely soul-crushing...this cover is Katsuki's feelings, guys. These are probably his very thoughts. This scene has gone through Katsuki's head at some point.

We've got Izuku in his stuck up pose all over again, in just an awkward angle. It's like katsuki isnt looking AT this katsuki right now, but at the spot where the actual past Katsuki, at some point, was. As if this Isuku is frozen in time. Dont believe too much in this paragraph, I still have my doubts about that, but I feel it's a possibility. Izukus eyes seem to be focused on the water, while Katsuki is just the tiniest bit back, reaching for Izukus hand. And gosh.

I dont think I've ever seen older NOR child Katsuki have this look plasted into his face before. He's...sheepish. Kindly, awkwardly sheepish. No hate, no anger, no shame, no nothing. His face is clear and sweet and has this "Whoops. You got me. But thanks." kind of expression on.

The hand behind his head, just the tiniest but embarassed? That little smile? It's all so soft.

Rambling about softness though- I really liked the hand scene in this particular panel. If you close up your view, you realise that theres no effort to pull anyone out of nowhere. In this panel, they are simply holding hands in frozen time for no purpose at all.

Katsuki has his hand around Izuku...simply holding there.

Again, because the angle is awkward, it's kind of messy, but you get the point.

It's all simply beautiful. Horikoshi clean likes give me life.

And lastly. The actual cover.

I screeched so hard when I saw this. My first instinct when seeing this for the first time was to straight up go trigger happy fingers and write about it to my friends. Christ.

Everything is so...SOft. horikoshi made a good decision by mixing both previous drawings in one. We have parts of the two covers in one, which is amazing. In this one, Katsuki isnt alone, as Izuku's there too. But we dont have the audience either. Probably because the main focus on this panel is no one else except them two.

Again, Katsuki looks like he's bowing, but instead of looking all the way down, he's in the middle. Not looking at Izuku nor looking at the ground, like it shows in the previous covers. Instead, Horikoshi found a middle ground. He's looking at his hand. At the gesture.

Hes not holding hands quite yet, but his hand is there. At arms reach. Not close enough but there. Wanting.

Theres so much regret and again, softness.

Again, like you Op said a bit bad, the angle is off here. This is present Katsuki remembering his past. The angle is off because this Izuku isnt holding out for our Katsuki. This is a memory. A wish. Katsuki's wish.

(Ps. Izukus trousers drenched in the rivers water. This detail was so nice. It's a subtle action that describes Izukus characterization so much. Izuku went in the river with Katsuki in mind, not caring if he got his clothes soaked in the process too. For Izuku, only Katsuki was there. And for Katsuki, only Izuku is.

As a plus, I can't believe the cover of this is literally called Bakugou Katsuki rising. They named the entire thing after that one chapter. Actually, I very much, totally believe it. It's the moment so many people have been waiting for, after all. The moment so many scenes have been amounting for, little by little.

*dreamy sigh*

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little thing, I had to get it out of my system and dont want to bother my dear friends anymore than needed.

Have a good day, OP! I'll stay updated!

You kinda just...took my heart and curb stomped it, not gonna lie. Your observations are so beautiful and so accurate. The sketch with little Bakugou taking Izuku’s hand is so...raw, and yeah, that expression is definitely one of love. Those eyes, the way he is HOLDING Izuku’s hand, not TAKING it. He isn’t taking it to stand up, he is literally just...holding it. 

That isn’t the way you take someone’s hand when you’re trying to pull yourself up. It’s an awkward angle and just...wouldn’t work right. No, he is literally just holding his hand, and that’s exactly what Bakugou wishes he did all that time ago. He wishes that he not only took Deku’s hand, but held onto it. Held it as if it were something precious, something to be cared for and protected. 

These are Bakugou’s true feelings expressed in these drawings, and I think Horikoshi released them on purpose, to show us more of what he wanted Bakugou to be feelings through all of this. Since after all, we know that Bakugou expresses himself in action, not so much words. And because Horikoshi is an absolute genius, he thought to give us these other glimpses in how he feels through these actions. 

And the other sketch with him bowing his body to Izuku, and the way the log looks like it’s on his back with his ‘friends’ on top of it. 

The pressure of needing to be the coolest, the strongest, the best. Those kids put that kind of pressure on him, even if they never realized it. They encouraged his behavior and fed his ego, and it never allowed him to see how he was wrong. But now he is realizing it, and he is bowing himself in light of that acknowledgement. He is lowering his head and putting his pride away, so he can get back what he lost all those years ago; the opportunity to take Izuku’s hand.

To take the hand of the only one of those kids that ever loved him unconditionally. Who never pressured him or expected him to be invincible. Who saw all of his flaws and was completely prepared to support him despite all of it. The only one. 

I’m just a mess over all of this, and I am so incredibly thankful to Horikoshi for creating this beautiful relationship. AND IN A SHOUNEN MANGA, NONETHELESS!!  

Thank you friend, for your beautiful thoughts. I think they’re spot on, and I am so emotional all over again because of this. 

[fishmongeringstudies]

five: the ballad of the goose-girl

once upon a time there was a goose who wanted to become a man. or there was a man who wanted to become a goose. or there were both, or there were none, or there were many of the same spell. once upon a time there were ten thousand geese and they wanted to go south. why? because it was too cold up here, they said. too far from the equator. too lonely.

one of the geese was called jorge. jorge had been assigned the role of miserable family caretaker with an inferiority complex from birth but a brief spell of rebellion in their teenage years led to their official disengagement from the role and subsequently, the adopting of a new one. jorge was a philosopher. their favorite philosopher was kant. they had never read any kant because geese can't read.

dimitri could read. dimitri was a goose but there was, how do you put it, something a little off about her. sometimes dimitri woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, her blankets kicked to the other end of the room, babbling about microeconomics and the supply-demand curve for cross-continental flying gear. dimitri was in a mad, one-sided love that consumed her body and soul, but this wasn't that bad in the broader scheme of things because this gave jorge, who couldn't read, something to do.

sometimes dimitri would read jorge poetry. dimitri had memorized every book of poetry in the main branch of the national library when she made a stopover there in her youth and could now be called upon to recite almost any poem from memory, as long as she didn't hate the poet. for example, dimitri hated sylvia plath. no matter how much jorge begged and pleaded with her as they flew over the skyscrapers of new york, the masses of writhing trees and open fields dotted with cows and sheep and death, she would not change her mind. 'please,' jorge would say while they stopped to rest on the fender of some college student's beat-up honda civic. 'read me a poem. any poem.' 'you mean,' dimitri would say, taking a drag from her cigarette. 'read me a plath poem.' 'that's not what i said,' jorge would respond defensively, because jorge was the kind of goose that assumes the world is out to get them no matter what and sticks their head in the gift-horse's mouth and then screams down its gullet for five minutes. finally, dimitri would laugh. 'that's what you mean.' then the conversation would end.

one day dimitri and jorge got separated from the flock. this was not unprecedented, as dimitri had been lagging behind for a few days now and jorge, being her designated attendant, had stayed with her. but it was just as frightening for jorge as it had been the first time, fifteen years ago when dimitri had pitched out of the sky halfway across philadelphia like an anvil and jorge had found her sprawled on the fender of some sad person's fucked-up lamborghini, looking like an angel in a bad insurance advertisement. it was always the fenders. dimitri had a thing for fenders.

dimitri also had a thing for letting her long, healthy history of communication problems fuck up her relationships with other geese, a habit she had picked up in her youth alongside smoking, lying, and reciting poetry. she was doing all three of the latter as they circled around the deserted shopping complex a fifth time, the sun a blurry white spot a few feet beneath their heads. 'did you know,' said dimitri, a cigarette clamped in her beak.

'no, i don't know,' said jorge.

'asshole. i haven't started speaking yet.'

jorge observed the setting sun with a detached kind of panic. 'yes you have.' they brushed something out of their eye with their wing. the smoke from dimitri's cigarette kept getting into their eyes. it was making it hard to concentrate on not being sad. 'you said 'did you know.''

'that's not the important part.'

'then what is the important part?'

'the important part is-'

south meant many things to many creatures. depending on who you asked and what time of the day it was when you did, you might get anything ranging from 'the southern tip of malaysia' to 'nineteen-seventy-five'. right now, in this particular snapshot of time, south meant the following things. for jorge, it meant freedom. for dimitri, it meant-

'-is that every shopping mall is a little haunted.'

jorge was unimpressed. most things were haunted to some degree or another. it was a very old world and the people that lived in it were all very broken, but that didn't stop the broken things from wanting to hang around, even after their ribs had cracked open and their lungs were smeared with soot. they told dimitri as much.

dimitri cleared her throat, which was hard to do while lying and smoking and flying in a circle around a deserted haunted shopping complex but otherwise feasible for a geese as competent as her. she turned to look at jorge, the trickle of her gaze sliding over their white, wind-tossed body like a cool hand over a flame.

'what i'm saying is let's spend the night there.'

;

once upon a time there was a goose named dimitri who was in a mad, requited love that consumed her body and soul. her partner was a poet, of course, because all geese want to fall in love with a poet, but here's the catch. jie ting never told dimitri which poems were about her. dimitri spent years trying to coax the confessions out of her, making her breakfasts in bed, bringing home cute little mice with their tails tied up in butterfly knots, kissing the spot where her wing met the curve of her body with the kind of reverence worshipers reserve for the day they meet their creator, but jie ting was stubborn and beautiful and kind and dimitri could never bring herself to do the truly horrible thing, to walk into her study and crack open the journals she kept those intimacies in. in spite of this, well, this thing between them, they were happy. they puttered around making cups and plates out of wet clay. they told stories about their cousins who had gotten lost in rain forests in the amazon and streets in taipei. every year they made the long journey down south, and then flew back up in the spring. and then jie ting died, and then there was no one left to coax anything out of.

the doctors said there was nothing dimitri could have done for her. for every million perfectly preventable deaths there are two to three freak accidents, faultless failures, broken vessels. and for every broken body on the pavement, trampled by cars bigger than the both of them combined, there was a broken heart.

dimitri closed up their old haunt in the woods. she broke all the mugs and gave all the bones back to their grieving micey relatives, who were horrified, and then angry, and then sad. then she flew all the way down to singapore and learned every poem in every poetry book they had in the national library, a looming glass building in the heart of the business district, and dragged her battered body all the way back up north, through miles and miles of snow-kissed nothing, and then jorge returned home in the spring with the rest of the good ones, the ones who weren't fucked in the head, who still had hope to speak of.

she can teach me poetry, thought jorge.

they definitely went to a liberal arts college, thought dimitri.

neither of these things are true. but neither are the stories that led them to each other. a lie canceled out a lie and after the dust had settled and dimitri had recovered from the ghost of death on her shoulder, they found each other standing right where they had started out, on opposite ends of the same crooked street.

;

the perfume store smelled like sixteen layers of hell distilled into a single bottle of wine that had been left to ferment for a few millennia and then smashed in a pool of vomit but it was the only place that wasn't so overgrown with vines that jorge could clear out a place for dimitri to lie down. they did so with an efficiency that startled even themselves, brushing dust and old receipts aside with one wing and spritzing the whole place clean with the other. dimitri was then coerced into the little sacred spot, though she was deeply reluctant and jorge was deeply embarrassed about the whole thing. desperate times call for desperate measures. when there are two geese and one perfume store and nineteen shades of bergamot and lavender, one learns to quieten their demons.

the funny thing about geese is that they are about sixty-percent neck and forty-percent everything else and yet a goose lying sideways occupies two hundred percent of the previous amount because geese are conceited like that. dimitri took up more than enough space on the shelf in the perfume store from hell, but with a little maneuvering she was able to make enough space to pull jorge down beside her. the funny thing about geese is they have very big egos, and very small dreams.

'imagine i am your mother,' said dimitri, waving one wing idly in the dark. 'singing you a lullaby as you drift off, packing your lunchbox for school, turning out the light in your bedroom.'

jorge's eye twitched. 'huh? i will not,' they said. 'that's disgusting.'

'oh. you think i'm disgusting?'

'no, that's not what i mean-'

'-but that's what you said.'

'-i said the idea of you as my mother is disgusting.' jorge hid their face in their feathers but their beak was too long and stuck out in a highly noticeable manner, therefore ruining the effect altogether. they grumbled to themselves, then spent a few minutes contemplating the fifteen feet of nothing that lay before them. a field of snow, ash, or flowers. darkness could be whatever you wanted it to be. that was part of the appeal of closing your eyes.

'hey,' they said.

'mm?'

'why won't you recite a plath poem?'

the sound of something soft against the wall. dimitri was brushing the flat of her wing along the wall behind her, over the faded labels and the peeling tiffany blue paint. 'because i can't.'

'but you know them, don't you,' jorge pressed.

'i do.'

'then?'

'how old are you this year, jorge?'

'old enough to read depressing poetry.'

'but not old enough to have fallen in love.' she withdrew her wing from the wall. it came away caked in dust and old memories. rich, gold-kissed families with kids in little bow-ties, babies forgotten in well-lit dressing rooms, the occasional stabbing. 'am i wrong?'

jorge bristled behind her. 'what does love have to do with this?'

'because,' dimitri mused, and jorge felt every sound that she made in their chest, where the heart was working furiously to keep blood circulating without end. 'all poems are love poems.'

'you know,' said jorge.

'i don't know.'

'good. you shouldn't.' jorge curled themselves tighter, so the two hundred percent became a hundred and ninety-five. 'i'm going to sleep. good night.'

;

once upon a time there was a goose who would do anything for her lover and then that lover died. once upon a time there was a goose who was really good at literary analysis, so good she could have taught at harvard if she hadn't wanted to be closer to her lover, who worked in non-profit and spent most of her time abroad, and then her lover died. once upon a time there was a goose. and she knew a lot of poetry. it was the last thing she did for jie ting, with the gray-dusted coat and the heather eyes. do geese have heather eyes? fuck it. this one did.

once upon a time there was a goose who really wanted to go to a liberal arts college, but their dad gambled all their savings away on a business venture which went bust moments before the big cash-out and so the college fund became a college black hole, a college financial aid form which procured miserably few sympathies from the financial aid office, a college nothing. this goose was really quite smart, though they couldn't prove it to save their life. but the other goose knew. the other goose wasn't as smart. she'd just had more money. and worse luck.

this isn't a love story. in this story there are no love stories because in some languages every story is a love story, and if everything is something then there is really nothing, no takeaway at the end of the parable, no shard of glass in the sand. imagine you're walking along the coastline in a white dress made from diamonds and you step on that shard of glass. there goes your foot. what will you do? the world is ending.

in the morning dimitri wakes up first. she touches jorge's forehead with the tip of one wing, then the flat of it, then the side. there's a bar of sunlight coming in through a gap in the moth-bitten blinds and it falls across jorge's face in rivulets of gold-leaf, liquid wonder. she watches them sleep for a few minutes, their chest rising and falling and trembling with all that infallible youth, with the faithless determination of someone whose body has grown older but whose soul has stayed as faultless, as clueless, as divine. if god were a goose it would be jorge. says who? says dimitri, who has god's number saved on her phone.

once, a few months ago, she wrote a poem. this she read out to jorge, while they were flying over the rooftops of san diego, each word falling out of her mouth like stars, like things she should have really kept to herself and in the safety of untouchable darkness and yet jorge was looking at her. she was reading this poem and jorge was looking at her and it wasn't the kind of look you gave someone you found by the side of the road, someone who had helped you with your college apps and tied your tie on prom night. it was the kind of look you gave an angel you wanted to pin to the sheets.

'is this poem about someone?' asked jorge, who was for all their cluelessness and cruelty, quite terribly perceptive when one wanted them least to be.

panicking, dimitry dropped her cigarette. she shook her head. 'no.' she shook her head again, for emphasis.

once, dimitri had a fit of coughs so bad she passed out right there in the lobby of that high school. the doctors said it was her lungs. her friends said it was the cigarettes. jie ting, who was long dead by then, said it was the heartbreak. put it back together, said the ghost of her dead lover. you can put yourself back together. maybe i don't want to, dimitri said, a sheaf of papers falling out of the pocket of her coat.

once, she didn't go south. she went up north in search of forgiveness, and when jorge arrived in the spring, they were as lovely as she remembered them being while she had gotten nowhere. still stuck in place, spinning in slow circles, watching god die on a white-gold stage. still mourning.

'i'll write you a poem,' jorge said the other day. 'to thank you.' for being the first person. for being the first person ever.

'don't bother,' she told them.

'i'll do it anyway.'

'i won't read it.'

'you will.'

once there was a goose and another goose and they were all lovely and sad with long, elegant necks and hard, sharp beaks for cracking things open but all they ever did was crack themselves open, like if you hurt yourself enough times you could make the world give you back what it had taken away. but that's not how it works. you know this. you know this, don't you? dimitri? dimitri?

dimitri's still in that old perfume store. she's leaning closer and closer to sleeping beauty, with the lanky limbs and the merry-go-round smile, and she's whispering something, though she'll never tell you what and you'll never get the chance to ask, she's breathing like the air's made of glass. sea-glass. have you ever seen the ocean? she'll take you one day. your name is jorge and you're asleep. you're being kissed on the mouth by a very beautiful person. she's going to die.

but all living things die eventually, you counter. you don't get it. you are missing the point.

that's fine. miss the point. keep sleeping. the moon pulls away from you the way some people pull knives out of bodies, like she can feel every inch of distance she puts between yourselves in her chest, where the heart is working furiously to keep life alive. she pulls away and it hurts her, you know. did you know? you can fall in love twice. you can fuck yourself up twice. there's always room in the cupboard for more ceramic mugs. she made you one. she'll never give it to you. you never asked.

that's your first kiss. and your second, and your third, and as you grow older the kisses will meld together into this looming memory of touch, sensation, heat, softness, girls, girls, girl. girl with the cigarette between her teeth. girl with the sharpshooter eyes, the gunmetal laugh. girl walking you home, girl flying you across the starless city, girl singing you a lullaby when you're eighteen and the world hates people like you who give life everything you've got and have the audacity to think it'll listen.

girl walking out of the perfume store. girl stepping into the half-light. girl leaving you behind.

or maybe it's the other way around. this way you will be able to catch up to the rest of the flock, this way you will make it to the other side of the world before winter gets its hands around your ankles. she's giving you an opportunity. take it. i said take it.

south means a lot of things depending on who you ask. for jorge, it's freedom, new skies, sunsets drenched in whiskey. for jorge it's the second best thing about being alive. for dimitri, it's death.

once upon a time there was a goose and their name was jorge. once upon a time there was a goose and her name was dimitri. in another version of this story they meet each other before the accident and the hospitals and the house in the woods, the financial crash, the long, cruel winter. in another version they kiss with their eyes open, their hearts unspooling around the confession, the truth, the sacred thing that lets people be happy with each other. in another version of this story jorge says read me a poem and dimitri says i'll read you something sweeter, and then she reads them a love poem.

in this one, one goose dies, and the other keeps flying.

A smile fell in the grass. Irretrievable! And how will your night dances Lose themselves. In mathematics? Such pure leaps and spirals - Surely they travel The world forever, I shall not entirely Sit emptied of beauties, the gift Of your small breath, the drenched grass Smell of your sleeps, lilies, lilies. Their flesh bears no relation. Cold folds of ego, the calla, And the tiger, embellishing itself - Spots, and a spread of hot petals. The comets Have such a space to cross, Such coldness, forgetfulness. So your gestures flake off - Warm and human, then their pink light Bleeding and peeling Through the black amnesias of heaven. Why am I given These lamps, these planets Falling like blessings, like flakes Six sided, white On my eyes, my lips, my hair Touching and melting. Nowhere.

05.25.21

[ayybtch]

The One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Things are going up and down for you as you try to navigate life after your breakup with Bucky. Everything leads to an accidental run-in with him at a coffee shop that leaves you and Bucky wondering if things could have been different. Based on the song The 1 by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: This is an angsty fic. The reader is actively struggling with mental illness and a breakup. There are mentions of being on antidepressants and symptoms such as anxiety, insomnia, and sometimes not having the energy for personal care, but nothing in-depth.

Word Count: 11,261

A/N: I owe a very special thank you to @borkingbarnes​, who has supportively been screaming at me for writing this ever since I told her this idea and gave me some brilliant suggestions during her beta read. The dividers were made by the lovely @whimsicalrogers​.

“So, how have the new meds been treating you? Are they still making you nauseous after you first take them?”

You looked across the room at your therapist and shook your head, “No, they’re not making me nauseous anymore. I’ve been making sure that I’ve got food in my stomach first and not just a cup of coffee. I’ve also been better about taking them at the same time each day,” you said.

She smiled at you. “Do you feel like they’ve been helping?”

You shrugged and offered a half-smile back. Not satisfied with your answer, she continued probing. “Well, do you feel like you have more energy than on the other meds? Are you sleeping more….?” She trailed off at the end, voice hopeful.

“Oh. Yeah, I have been sleeping a little better. I’ve been sleeping closer to 5 hours each night, though it’s still taking a really long time for me to fall asleep. I’ve had more energy but I don’t know if that’s because of the meds or the sleep?” You trailed off a bit at the end, unsure of if that truly answered her question.

“It could be a mix of both. I’m glad to hear you’re sleeping more though, you weren’t getting very much when you first started seeing me.” She offered you another smile before adjusting herself in her seat and continuing, “Now, what have you been doing with this extra energy? Any new hobbies, catching up with friends, going on dates, anything like that?”

You shook your head no. “I don’t have much of a friend group anymore, not since…” your voice faded before the sentence finished. You closed your eyes and shook your head slightly. Pull yourself together. “I am meeting Natasha after this, actually. She and I were friends before everything and she’s the only one that’s really stuck around since. It’s been about a month since I last saw her so I’m looking forward to seeing her.” The therapist nodded and offered a sympathetic smile that made your stomach turn. You decided to continue before she chimed in.

“I’m running again too. I used to go on a nightly run before things got bad. It’s not for as long or as far as I used to but it’s better than sitting on the couch, I guess.”

She nodded and began writing on her notepad, “That’s wonderful. What do you enjoy about your runs?”

Her question was unexpected and it took you a minute to answer. “It’s peaceful. It’s one of the few times I can shut my brain off and zone out. Though, if it’s a bad day it doesn't always work.”

She nodded and paused, as if trying to carefully choose her next words. “One thing I’ve noticed whenever stuff comes up is that you always talk about ‘before’, but what about the ‘after’? Have you thought about trying to get back out there and start your ‘after’?” An uncomfortable knot formed in your stomach as she spoke.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” you whispered.

She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything. Eventually, she nodded and continued to make notes.

                                         ***

The session continued for another half hour before it ended with a smile and a brief conversation with her secretary, confirming your appointment for the same time next week.

As you stepped out the door, you let out a sigh of relief. Therapy sessions were hard. Even though today’s session had been relatively mild, the process was still draining and left you feeling exhausted most days. It really helped though and making the decision to go was one of the best decisions you could have made for yourself. A smile settled on your face as you pulled your jacket tighter across your chest before beginning your walk to meet Natasha.

You had discovered soon after starting therapy that walking to and from the appointment gave you the time you needed to prepare yourself for the session and unwind after. The hustle and bustle of New York created the perfect background noise for you to organize your thoughts. Most days it helped you process the questions the therapist asked. Often, you answered them a little deeper than what you had in the session knowing that nobody would know the real answer except for you.

Guilt gnawed at you as you thought about it. Wasn’t the whole point of therapy to be honest? Were you still getting as much out of it as you could if you were completely honest? You shook your head and sighed. Sometimes there were things better left unsaid.

One of the many things that had been left unsaid had to do with what you missed most about being with him. You had shrugged it off when she asked, saying it was nice having a person around because it was less lonely. While true, the full answer was more painful than you felt comfortable admitting out loud. He had understood you in ways nobody else ever had and nobody else ever would again. It gave you the freedom to be unapologetically you every second of the day. The thought of not being known like that again and having to put on a facade felt like the loneliest existence the universe had to offer. It made your chest ache.

Today though, it gave you the chance to collect your thoughts before Natasha had the opportunity to interrogate you. To be fair, it wasn’t really an interrogation. She was far too gentle when she asked you questions, though you’re sure that’s one of the many techniques she chose from. Interrogation or not though, she would be watching you like a hawk the entire meal to make sure you were actually doing as well as you were claiming.

It wasn’t long before you were standing outside Natasha’s favorite Italian restaurant. She always recommended meeting up here purely because of the breadsticks. She swore they were the best in New York and ate at least three full baskets by herself each visit. You paused before entering, suddenly nervous about how it would go. There’s nothing to worry about, Natasha isn’t going to bring him up and isn’t going to push me past my boundaries. You weren’t quite as convinced as you would have liked to be, but you couldn’t delay it any longer as you stepped inside.

A blast of warm air surrounded you as you were greeted by the hostess. It didn’t take for her to lead you back to where Natasha was sitting, a glass of wine already in her hand. A second sat waiting on the table for you.

You walked over, bending down to give her a side hug and a peck on the cheek.

“You’re late,” she said reproachfully, eyes zeroed in on yours.

“I know, I’m sorry. My session went a little over today.” You pulled out your chair and sat down before continuing, “How are you? It’s good to see you.”

Natasha smiled brightly. “I’ve been good. I’ve been really looking forward to this, I was so happy when you said yes. It feels like it’s been years since I’ve seen you.” You grinned slightly and she continued. “I’m sorry that it’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to catch up. Work has been keeping me even busier than usual. Stark has been working on all sorts of new tech developments and has somehow recruited me for testing.”

You nodded as you took a sip of your wine, “Nothing he’s made has killed you yet. That’s impressive.”

She snorted, “He’s lucky I didn’t flat out say no. His last update to the Falcon wings sent Wilson through the ceiling and landed him in the medbay for three days with a concussion.” Natasha noticed the look of concern on your face and waved her hand as she sipped on her wine. “He’s fine, don’t worry. All of the Avengers men have skulls harder than concrete.” The two of you burst into laughter at the thought.

A waiter arrived as your laughter died down to take your orders and to refill Natasha’s wine glass. You both thanked him as he turned to walk away. A quiet settled over the table and Natasha’s gaze landed firmly on you.

“So how have you been?” she asked softly, voice far gentler than anyone would expect from a former assassin. You shrugged and avoided eye contact.

“Some days are better than others,” you said, “Overall things are better than they’ve been for a while now though. My shrink has me on some new meds that seem to be helping and I’ve been working harder on doing little things to take care of myself every day, not just the good days.”

Natasha nodded, eyes still fixed on you. Slowly, she reached a hand out across the table and placed it on top of yours. “You know I’m always here for you, right? You can call me any time of day and as long as I’m not on a mission, I can be at your apartment within the hour.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at her words. You nodded quickly, eyes blinking fast to try and keep the tears that were welling up from falling. She gave your hand a quick squeeze before pulling back.

“Now where the hell are our breadsticks? This is going to be a failed meal if I have less than twelve in me before the main dish arrives.” Her words made you burst out laughing once again and succeeded in putting a smile on your face for the remainder of the meal.

                                        ***

“Are you sure I can’t drive you back to your apartment?” Natasha asked, wrapping her scarf around her neck as the two of you stepped out of the restaurant. You nodded at her and smiled.

“I enjoy walking, it clears my mind,” you said. She let out a disapproving hum but didn’t argue further. She pulled you into a bone-crushing hug before turning and walking towards where her car was parked. You watched as she stepped in and waved as she pulled out of the parking lot. You stood and watched until her car was out of sight before turning to start the walk home.

As it was on the walk to the restaurant, the busy streets provided the perfect background noise needed for you to quiet your mind. You focused on your breathing, allowing yourself to try and channel any residual nervous energy outward. With each breath, the faces passing by began to blur. Neon signs hanging in the windows of the shops you passed by became nothing more than a gentle glow in your peripheral. With each step you took, the background seamlessly blended together more and your focus on yourself heightened. A sense of calm settled itself in your chest. The feeling grew stronger with each block you passed until a small smile made its way onto your face. That feeling ended abruptly as you turned around the next block.  

There was a large crowd waiting at the bus stop, but your eyes focused on one man. You stared at his silhouette, panic building with each second. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you and your feet had magically turned into cinder blocks. Is that...? No, it couldn’t be…

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, the man turned slightly so you could see his face, and a sigh of relief left you. You stood there a moment longer to examine his side profile. It wasn’t him; he just happened to look like him. He was about the same height and weight, with similar chocolate waves. Your eyes landed on his light brown leather jacket and a lump formed in your throat. He had worn a similar jacket the day you met. It felt like being thrown back in time as you continued to stare at the man in front of you.

Natasha drug you through a hallway, not caring about your protests to slow down. “I have someone I want you to meet.” She smirked as she spoke, leaving you to wonder what she was plotting.

A group of choices greeted the two of you as you entered the room. You waved at Steve and Sharon sitting on the couch as Natasha continued to pull you across the room to where two men were standing. One of the men was Sam, whom you had met the last time Natasha brought you to the compound. The other was Bucky Barnes. You hadn’t met him before but you knew who he was. It was impossible not to given how public everything about Hydra had become.

“Barnes, I have someone I’d like you to meet,” Natasha said, turning slightly towards you.

Bucky turned to look at you, offering a charming smile as he held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Bucky.”

You shook his hand and introduced yourself, hoping to god you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. The pictures of him floating around on the news did not do him justice. Bucky was absolutely breathtaking. His smile lit up his eyes in a way no camera could ever hope to capture. His hair was cropped just above his shoulders, falling into a beautiful wavy pattern. You realized you were staring and felt your face get hot.

“Uh, I like your jacket,” you mumbled, hoping he hadn’t realized you were staring. The leather jacket was a beautiful light brown. It looked old, but well loved at the same time.

He smiled widely at you, “Thanks! Leather jackets are kind of my thing. Sam here thinks I have too many but there’s no such thing as too many leather jackets, wouldn’t you agree?”

As the memory floated away, you couldn’t help but think how Bucky probably would’ve gone up to the man to ask about his jacket. You chuckled at the thought. As soon as he walked away, he would’ve immediately started looking up where he could find one for his own closet. It didn’t matter how many leather jackets he had. He always wanted more.

The chuckle died on your lips and was replaced by an uncomfortable knot settling in your stomach. A heavy weight fell on your chest and you forced yourself to find the energy to trudge forward.

The remainder of the walk was a blur, but not in the same way it had been before. This wasn’t the good kind of blur that helped you to focus. It was the kind that left you feeling suffocated and as if everything would come crashing down all at once. That had been the first happy thought about Bucky since the two of you broke up. His presence in your thoughts was so strong, he might as well have been walking right next to you. You could practically feel his knuckles brushing against yours with each step you took. If you closed your eyes, you swore you could smell his cologne.

The harsh reality of how alone you were hit you as the greeting from your apartment’s doorman pulled you from your thoughts. You shot him a small smile before rushing inside and all but sprinting up the stairs. Your hands shook as you unlocked the door to your apartment, though you couldn't tell if it was from your thoughts of Bucky or from the sudden burst of energy that left you slightly winded.

Once inside, you rushed to your bedroom and changed into the first sports bra and pair of leggings you saw. You needed to get Bucky off your mind and the only way you knew how was to run. It was going to be a long run tonight.

The doorman waved at you again as you exited the building, surprised to see you again so soon. “Someone is feeling motivated today I see,” he joked. You shrugged and slowly began to jog.

                                        ***

It took a while to get into your groove, but once you were there you felt good. The movement helped settle the anxious energy that had been building since you had seen the man at the bus stop, while the steady breathing brought your focus back to the here and now just like it had before. That’s something else to mention if she asks about my runs again, you thought.  These runs bring my focus to this exact moment in time.

That thought was lost as you passed a small, hole in the wall theater. Small groups were exiting the building, each talking excitedly amongst themselves about the movie that had just finished. The nauseous feeling from earlier came back as memories resurfaced. That was Bucky’s favorite movie theater. Every Sunday they played movies from the 1920s and 1930s. He used to drag you along with him whenever he saw one he remembered from his childhood. Each time he swore up and down that you were about to experience a cinematic masterpiece like no other and that it would change the way you looked at movies. You always rolled your eyes as he said it, but the magic you felt in that theater with him was like no other.

Movies made back then were so different from the movies made now. The characters felt so much more real. They were allowed to be people. Their faults and flaws didn’t take away from the good things about them. These films never failed to make you feel all of the emotions you were meant to feel and each time you exited the theater, you couldn’t help but wish you could’ve remained in that little bubble just a few minutes longer. Those bittersweet feelings about the ending never lasted long though, as Bucky would wrap his arm around your shoulder and proceed to talk your ear off about the movie until you made it home.

“You know Doll, the greatest films of all time were never made,” he said, smiling down at you.

You just laughed and shook your head.“Bucky that makes absolutely no sense.”

Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically, making you laugh again. “Think about it though, how many movies haven’t been made because someone decided they weren’t good enough for the big screen? How many stories have been brought into existence but never been told to another living soul?”

A car horn brought you back into reality. Bitterness crept into your chest as you processed the memory that had just played out picture-perfect in your mind. Those afternoons with him in the theater had been some of the best afternoons of your life. Even if you weren’t crazy about the movie, Bucky’s sheer excitement about it was enough to convince you of how wonderful it truly was. If only he had felt that same amount of joy in other areas of your relationship.

Your bitterness slowly began to turn to anger as you thought about the last few months of being with Bucky. Sunday matinees had stopped being a regular thing as Bucky’s work schedule picked up until they stopped happening entirely. His new position training new SHIELD agents and prospective new members to the Avenger ate away at his time. All of his time. It got to the point Bucky never stopped working. Even at home, his thoughts were on paperwork to be filed, training to be planned, or meetings to be run. You’d be sitting on the couch next to him trying to talk only to receive disinterested “hmms” or the occasional “That’s nice honey.”

You tried bringing it up to no avail. He always brushed it off and said things would calm down eventually and that he just needed you to hold out a bit longer. He never outright said his work was more important to him but the implication was there and you felt the weight of it every single day. You bit your tongue and played along for a while, but after several months of hearing the same excuses, you finally snapped. Unfortunately, so did Bucky.

“All you ever do is work. I can’t remember the last time we went and did something together. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time you cared enough to even ask me about my day. It’s like you don’t even want me around anymore,” you hissed, glaring at Bucky.

“Excuse me for caring about my fucking job. One of us has to if we’re going to continue affording this place,” he scoffed.

Ice filled your veins as you stared at him, fist clenched at your side. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, we both know you’re barely getting your work done on time. You lay here on the couch all day watching TV. You’re lucky you’re allowed to work from home because you look like a walking disaster half the time. You’ve stopped wearing clean clothes, you hardly shower, you hardly eat, and you hardly sleep. Face it, you’re depressed.” His voice was flat as he spoke.

You furiously blinked back tears that were trying to well up as you processed his words. “First of all, I am not depressed,” you muttered, “Second, if I’m such a walking disaster then what are you even still doing here?”

“I am still here because I care about you. I have lost track of how many times I have asked you to get help. I’ve been where you are, I know what you’re going through and I know what it takes to come back from it. If you never bleed, you’re never going to grow. If you can’t move past this, then we -” he paused to motion between the two of you “- can’t move past this.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke. There was no malice in them, but there was also none of the kindness or warmth you wished for. His gaze just felt indifferent.  

You remained silent as you tried to find words. Bucky continued watching you, waiting expectantly for a response. A response never came, however, and he let out a loud sigh.

“If you don’t have anything to say to that, then I think we’re done here. I can’t keep doing this anymore. I love you, but neither of us is happy. I can’t give you what you want and you can’t give me what I need,” Without another word, Bucky grabbed his coat and walked out the front door of the apartment.

That was the last time that you saw Bucky. He had sent you a text a few days later asking when a good time to come pick up his stuff would be. You responded begrudgingly, telling yourself that the sooner his stuff was gone the sooner your life could get back to normal. When the day came, you forced yourself to get out of the apartment. The thought of seeing him after what went down between you left you seeing red. When you finally went back after he left, you felt none of the happy emotions you had convinced yourself you would feel.

Instead, you felt the empty spots in the room. Every missing item you noticed felt like a blow to the stomach and caused fresh tears to well up in your eyes. Pictures were no longer hanging from the walls; random gaps were in the bookshelves; his leather jacket was no longer slung across the back of the chair he loved in the living room. You stumbled back to your room with your eyes closed, refusing to see what other memories had been ripped from their rightful homes. Once there, you collapsed on the bed and laid there for two days. It wasn’t until Natasha broke into your apartment to check on you after countless missed calls and ignored texts that you finally moved from that spot.

For the millionth time that day, your stomach twisted as thoughts of Bucky floated around in your head. Despite it all, you regretted not being there when he came to get his things. There was never a proper goodbye between you and the thought drove you mad sometimes. Maybe if I had been there, we could’ve worked this out. You scoffed at the thought, but couldn’t deny the heaviness lingering in your chest.

At times you considered reaching out to him, wondering if he would be willing to give you the closure you so desperately needed. Even if it was just over text, it might be better than the nothing you currently had. You still had his number. The two of you even still followed each other on social media. He liked what few posts you made, but you had never been able to bring yourself to look at the stuff he posted. The lines of communication were there, you just had to use them. But communication is a two-way street; if he wanted to talk to you, he’d reach out. Right? That thought had kept you from texting him more times than you could possibly count.

Questions about what could have happened that day swirled throughout your head as your feet pounded against the pavement. Could you have fixed things, or would it still have ended in breaking up? Could you have agreed to still be friends? Would you have at least been able to say goodbye, or would he have walked silently out the door again?

The thoughts continued to plague you until the ache in your legs was too strong to take another step. Out of breath, you looked around at where you stopped trying to figure out how far you had run. It wasn’t until you noticed the fountain about a dozen feet behind you that you realized where you were.

Tony had once rented out a plaza nearby for a 1920s themed fundraiser gala the first year you and Bucky were dating. The gala was the first public event you ever attended with him, though it certainly hadn’t been your last. Natasha had taken you shopping and helped you find a flapper-style dress leading up to it. The two of you did your hair and makeup together, giggling about how you felt like you were getting ready for a high school dance. When you stepped out of the room with Natasha, Bucky wasn’t able to speak. He spent the whole night staring at you like a lovestruck teenager, only to turn bright red whenever someone mentioned it.

Towards the end of the night, you and Bucky had drunkenly stumbled out of the plaza to escape the crowd and found your way over to this fountain. Rather, you had stumbled out drunkenly. Bucky wasn’t affected by human alcohol and hardly had any of the Asgardian mead Thor had so generously brought. While he was a little more cheery than usual, he wasn’t intoxicated enough to even pretend like he was tipsy.

A giggle left your lips as you stumbled forward. “Bucky, I need to find somewhere to sit down. I need to take off my heels.”

Bucky laughed at you and picked you up, carrying you bridal style. He spun around slowly as he searched for somewhere he could set you down. His eyes eventually settled on the fountain and began walking towards it. He carefully set you down before sitting down next to you. His eyes were fixed on you as you took off your shoes, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth as you did. You smiled over at him, before turning around to stare at the fountain in wonder. A giggle left your lips as you pulled up your dress and began walking around in the fountain.

You laughed any time you went through a jet of water. The temperature difference was soothing against your skin and almost left a tickling sensation as you passed. Eventually, you arrived back at where he was sitting and the smile on his face filled your stomach with butterflies. You bent down slightly to press your lips against his, your hands making their way through his hair. His hands landed on your hips and pulled you closer to him. You felt dizzy as he held you, though you weren’t sure if it was him or the glasses of champagne. You pulled away abruptly as an idea struck you, leading to Bucky’s eyes opening in confusion. His gaze fell upon the mischievous look you wore and he opened his mouth to speak. Before he managed to make a sound, your hands left his hair and were reaching down to splash water onto him.

He tried to catch your hands to stop you, but you stepped back just out of reach, but not far enough you couldn’t keep splashing him. Without a word, he reached down to take off his shoes and socks. A gasp left you as he stepped into the fountain and you rushed to hide behind the fountain’s centerpiece. He chased after you, hands eventually catching your waist and spinning you around to face him. He stared down at you, wonder and adoration written on his face. He slowly leaned forward to press his lips against yours.

The dizzy feeling from before came back, though this time you could say with absolute certainty it was because of the man standing in front of you. His lips were so soft against yours, yet still carried such a force they left you breathless. Fireworks had nothing on how he made you feel. No words could ever hope to describe the love and adoration bursting in your chest.

This time, he was the one to pull back first. He moved his lips up slightly, pressing a kiss to your nose and your forehead before leaning his head against yours. “Would you like to dance?”

You nodded and the two of you began to slow dance in the fountain. You don’t know how long you were in the fountain dancing; it felt like eternity paused to give you and your love all the time the universe had to give so you could enjoy this moment a little longer. The only sensations tying you to reality were Bucky’s warmth and the cool water moving at your feet as Bucky spun you around. You pulled away slightly and smiled at him. “We should make a wish,” you said.

Bucky looked at you with confusion. “A wish?”

You nodded, a small smile filling your face, “You know, toss some coins into the fountain and make a wish as we do.”

The laugh that left his lips made your heart flutter. “I don’t think this is a wishing-well. Although -” he paused to laugh again, “-I hardly think they meant for anyone to dance around in it either, so why not.” One of his hands left yours and reached into his pocket, looking for his wallet. He opened it and pulled out two pennies and handed one to you. “It looks like we only get one wish each tonight, so we’d better make it a good one.”

You stared down at the penny in your hand, wondering what wish could possibly be better than the night you were currently having with Bucky. The wish hit you suddenly, a smile breaking out on your face. You pressed your lips to the penny and wished with all your might, ‘I wish for us to have more moments like this together, from now through the rest of our days”. You opened your eyes and tossed the penny outward. Bucky’s coin was soon nestled safely at the bottom of the fountain with yours.

“What did you wish for?” he asked, pulling you back into his arms to continue dancing.

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true,” you teased, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as he spun you. “And let me tell you, I really want this wish to come true.”

Bucky chuckled, “Me too honey, me too.”

Your eyes came back into focus and a quiet sob left you. You stood in front of the fountain and cried into your hands, cursing all of the emotions you felt. That night had left you convinced that Bucky Barnes was the one. You had fallen asleep dreaming of dancing like that with him at your wedding. But now? Now all you wanted to do was scream. You wanted to scream at him, at yourself, and at the universe for being cruel enough to lead you back to this fountain without him at your side.

As the tears began to slow, a new kind of weight settled in your chest. He really could have been the one. He could have been everything you dreamed of and more, but there was nothing you could do to go back in time to change things. He decided to walk out that door and leave you with nothing more than an empty space in your heart, one to match the empty spaces he left in your apartment.

The questions the therapist had asked you started ringing through your ears as you continued to stare blankly at the fountain. What about the ‘after’? Maybe she had a point bringing it up today. You were still stuck in the ‘before’. Maybe it was finally time to start moving on. Missing items could be replaced; missing love could be given by someone else. All you had to do was make the decision to take your first steps into the ‘after’.

Your feet remained glued in place as you tried to make sense of it all.

You were confused as to where you were. Looking around, nothing seemed familiar. It wasn’t until a familiar silhouette caught your attention that you realized where you were. Bucky stood at the top of the mountain, staring down at the canyon below. Green trees and bushes lined the ground and the air was filled with the sound of birds chirping. The view was beautiful, but you couldn’t stop staring at Bucky. He looked the same, yet something felt different. Bucky seemed calmer than you had seen him in years, almost as if all of his stress had faded away. His body language was relaxed and he seemed to be in no rush to leave where he was.

Suddenly, the once green mountain top was now covered in a blanket of snow. Bucky was now wearing a thick winter coat and was strapping his feet onto a snowboard. He soon had his helmet and goggles on and began his descent down the mountain. It felt like you were flying along with him as you watched him expertly weave his way through the trees. The ease at which he moved confused you. Since when did Bucky know how to snowboard? He expressed wanting to try but never had while you were together. Confusion clouded your mind until Bucky reached the bottom of the mountain and came to a halt. He removed his helmet and a look of pure exhilaration filled his face. His excitement made your heart burst. As you reached out to try and touch him, the scene changed once again.

This time you were in the middle of the ocean. The vast expanse of blue was the only visible thing in sight other than Bucky. He was in full scuba gear, just floating there waiting. He was so still that if it weren't for the stream of bubbles that came with each exhale, you wouldn’t have been able to tell if he was breathing. Out of nowhere, a shape appeared in the distance. As it got closer, you felt your stomach drop. A large shark swam slowly towards Bucky. You rolled your eyes at the realization. Of course, he would go swimming with sharks with no safety cage. That idiot had no respect for your nerves or your -

You were woken up abruptly by the sound of your phone ringing. You groaned and cursed yourself for it somehow not being on silent. In your confused state, you reached out and slowly felt around on the top of your nightstand trying to find your phone. Once you found it, you tilted the screen so you could see who was calling. A beautiful picture of Natasha filled your screen and you sighed. Only Natasha could call randomly and happen to wake you up from a dream about Bucky. You pressed the answer button and begrudgingly brought the phone to your ear.

“Morning, you better have a good reason for waking me up,” you mumbled, letting out a yawn as you finished speaking.

“It’s past noon, you know. Most decent people are already up by now,” You could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke.

“Shut up. It’s still morning if I haven’t gotten out of bed yet. What do you want? I was having a nice dream.”

Your gruff response got a laugh from Natasha. “Well I was calling to see how your Tinder date went last night, but now I’m wondering if I should be asking what you were dreaming about that has you being this testy,” she teased.

You rubbed your eyes and groaned, “The dream was nothing special, I’m just mad you woke me up. The Tinder date was also nothing to write home about. The guy was awful. He started off super charming like they always do, but he got snappy with our waitress and then tried to get snappy with me when I called him out on it. I paid for my half of the bill and left as quickly as I could.”

“Ugh, gross. Men are actually the worst,” Natasha said. You hummed in agreement and she continued, “So are you ready for me to start setting you up, or are you going to keep giving these Tinder people a try?”

You sighed and paused for a moment to think. “Nat, I know you’re trying to help but the only people you have that you can set me up with are all SHIELD employees. I don’t see it ending well if I go down that path given my prior dating history.”

A scoff came through the phone. “He’s dating again too, so he has no right to be pissy about anything if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, he was also the one who ended it so he doubly has no right to be upset.”

You sat up straight as she spoke, your stomach dropping at the thought. “He’s dating again?” Your voice sounded small, smaller than it had in ages.

This time it was Natasha’s turn to pause before responding. “Yes. He’s taken a few of the receptionists here out on coffee dates, but nothing seems to be sticking. If Wilson is to be believed, he’s also on Tinder. I can’t imagine that’s working out very well for him either though.”

You felt nauseous, but you forced yourself to pause to recenter your thoughts. Of course he would be dating again. It’s been almost a year since you broke up. If you’re dating again, it only makes sense that he is as well. He deserves to be happy too. A heavy sigh left you, “Well, I hope he’s having better luck than I am.”

                                        ***

You were on the phone with Natasha for another twenty minutes before she had to go. It felt nice catching up with her, and the two of you made plans for another lunch get together later in the week. The conversation had quickly transitioned away from dating, but the fact Bucky was dating again lingered in the back of your mind for the entirety of the call.

You had been on Tinder for a while now, but somehow it never occurred to you that he might be too. How does a superhero just casually join the worst dating app in existence? Do people actually believe it’s him when they come across his profile? You couldn’t help but snort at the thought. Conversations on dating apps sucked enough as it is, but having to try and prove you’re who you say you are the way Bucky must have to certainly would make it that much less enjoyable.

Almost as if it knew you were thinking about it, a Tinder notification popped up on your lock screen. You opened up the app and saw two new messages from someone you had matched with. You typed out a response and then proceeded to scroll through the list of other potential matches. Most of the profiles you looked at were immediate no’s, but there were a few you swiped right on. It never ceased to amaze you how bad the men on this app were at smiling in pictures. Most of them had only a slight grin in one or two pictures. Any profile with a man properly smiling almost always got a swipe right. The only other type of picture that had that sort of response was for cute cats and dogs.

You continued to swipe, pausing occasionally to respond to a message. Out of nowhere, a familiar pair of blue eyes started staring up at you, causing you to nearly drop your phone in surprise. Of course the day you find out Bucky is on Tinder is the day you come across his profile. You quickly took a screenshot before swiping left and exiting out of the app. You sent the screenshot to Natasha. She responded almost immediately, Guess Wilson was telling the truth 🙄

You laughed at her response as you got out of bed, ready to finally start your day.

                                        ***

A sigh of relief left you as you collapsed on your couch after spending most of the afternoon running errands. It hadn’t been anything too bad, but that didn’t stop you from being thankful it was over. You laid there for a few minutes, just enjoying the stillness and the comfort of being on your couch. Once settled, you reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the glass of wine you had poured, and opened up your phone.

You opened up Snapchat and responded to the few snaps you had from Natasha and other friends before opening up Instagram. You mindlessly watched people’s stories, skipping through any of the ones that didn’t interest you. You paused however on Bucky’s.

He was standing next to a beautiful woman, each of them holding a painting in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Both of them had smiles that filled their faces. You stared at the picture, unsure of what you should be feeling. On one hand, it was nice seeing him so relaxed and happy. His posture reminded you eerily of how he looked in your dream. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel a touch of bitterness. You had practically begged him to go with you to a wine and paint night while you were together. He always used work as an excuse, either he was too tired from work or he had too much work left to do. You stared at the picture for a minute longer, wondering if they’d be going home together or parting ways for the night. You sighed, shaking your head at your own stupidity before continuing to scroll.

The wind blew violently around you as you struggled to make your way up the street. The weather turned unexpectedly as you were out on your run, so you rushed towards the closest coffee shop hoping to wait out the weather and avoid having to pay for a cab back home. The barista greeted you as you stepped inside and you offered her a smile.

“What can I get for you?” she asked.

You stared up at the menu, considering your options. “One large hazelnut latte and a cinnamon roll, please.”

She entered everything into the computer and you held out your card for her. Once your payment was processed, you turned to find a seat. The coffee shop was crowded, no doubt due to the bad weather driving people indoors. You looked around unsuccessfully and had almost resigned yourself to standing when a familiar voice called out.

You jumped at the sound. You turned around and made eye contact with Bucky Barnes for the first time since he walked out your front door. He was sitting there grinning ear to ear, almost as if he was genuinely happy to see you. The thought made your heart burst and it was impossible to hold back an equally big smile.

“Hey Bucky, how’s it going?”

“It’s going really well! Thanks for asking,” he paused and looked around before continuing, “Do you want to sit down? There’s not a lot of seating left and it’s just me here.” His hand gestured towards the empty seat across from him as he spoke.

You paused, unsure of if you should take it or continue to look elsewhere. You looked around the room for an empty seat but didn’t see any. Well, I guess we’re doing this. You stepped forward and mumbled out a thanks as you sat down.

“I’m kind of surprised to see you here if I’m honest. I didn’t think you came to this part of the city very often,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I generally don’t. The weather took a bit of a nasty turn while I was out on my run. I stepped in hoping that by the time I’m ready to leave it’ll have calmed down.”

Another smile broke out across his face as you spoke. “You’re running again? That’s awesome.” He sounded sincere as he spoke which made you smile back.

You nodded, but before you could respond the barista arrived with your coffee and cinnamon roll. You thanked her and took a long sip of your coffee, enjoying the warmth you felt as you did. An awkward silence filled the air as both of you tried to size the other up. You decided to break the silence.

“So, what’s new with you?”

                                        ***

An hour later, the two of you were still chatting away happily at the table. Once the conversation started, it didn’t stop. Everything felt like it had at the start of your relationship: easy, comfortable, and filled with excitement. The only pauses that occurred were when the barista refilled both of your coffees and brought Bucky a cinnamon roll, which he ordered after you spent five minutes going on about how incredible it was.

One of the things you had forgotten about being around Bucky was the warmth he exuded. Even on his worst days, he had the unwavering ability to make the room feel safe. You couldn’t ever quite pin down whether it had to do with his cologne being a comforting smell or if that’s just who he was. All you knew is that he always left you aching to lean into his chest and stay there until you absolutely couldn’t. Needless to say, today it left you feeling quite confused given everything that had happened between you.

The thoughts you had several months ago about getting closure were brought back to the forefront of your mind. How had things gotten so bad between you? How had both of you let this wonderful thing fall to pieces without even one final attempt at holding it together? Each little pause in the conversation as you transitioned between topics left you aching to ask all of the questions you had. Everything was so easy and so smooth between you today that you almost felt hope that things were salvageable between you. Maybe, just maybe, your fountain wish could still come true. As you were finally working up the courage to ask, his next sentence knocked all other thoughts out of your head.

“Did you hear that Steve and Sharon are finally engaged? Took that meathead long enough to ask.”

A gasp left your mouth, “No way! It’s about freaking time. Have they picked a date yet?”

He nodded. “First weekend in June. Sharon’s already picked their wedding colors too; sage green and rose gold. She explicitly said she picked rose gold because she wants to serve that rosé champagne you introduced her to. It’s still her favorite to this day.”

A bittersweet smile made its way onto your face as you thought about what he said. You had brought two bottles of that sparking rosé to a dinner Sharon hosted once, back when she and Steve were still circling around their feelings for each other. Sharon had barely taken her first sip before asking you for details on where you bought it. Ever since, Sharon always had a bottle in her fridge. Her friendship was the one you missed the most after the breakup. There had been a few half-hearted attempts from both of you to reach out, but each time her responses felt forced. Eventually you stopped trying.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be a beautiful wedding. They deserve it,” you said. A chuckle left your lips as a new thought entered your head. “How on Earth is Steve going to choose between you and Sam for best man?”

Bucky joined in on your laughter, making your stomach do summersault after summersault. “Sam and I were actually wondering the same thing, but apparently they’ve decided to not do a bridal party. That makes things easy for me though. I get to kick back and enjoy the wedding knowing I have no responsibilities.”

The idea of Bucky having a blast at a wedding made you smile. The smile faded slightly as you realized this meant Bucky was now going to need a date for this wedding. Images of him in a fancy suit, twirling another woman around the way he had in the fountain with you flashed before your eyes. You felt your heart breaking all over again at the thought of how it could’ve been you if you hadn’t fucked it all up. How stupid could you have been thinking the two of you could talk things out after all this time. He’s probably already planning on asking that girl from the wine and paint night to go with him. She had appeared on his social media several times since that night and each time it made your chest ache a little more. Bucky’s voice broke you from your thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. You tried smiling but felt yourself falter and knew he noticed it too. “Yeah, just caught up in my thoughts.” You needed to get out of here and fast. Conveniently, your phone screen lit up and you were able to fake gasp at the time. “Oh my god, look how late it is. I really should get going.”

Bucky stared at you, unsure of how to respond to the sudden change in the atmosphere. You stood and rushed to collect your things.

“It was really nice seeing you again Bucky,” you said, offering him a half-smile as you take your first steps away from the table. He nodded, still looking unconvinced.

“It really was. Maybe we could do this again sometime?” He asked, trying his hardest to keep too much optimism from creeping into his voice.

Your eyes went wide with surprise, but you slowly nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

The same awkward silence from before filled the air, only this time neither of you seemed to know how to break it. You offered a small wave and made your way out the door, refusing to turn around and hug him despite how strongly your body was screaming at you to do so.

Bucky stood there staring after you until you were out of sight. A sigh left him after you rounded a corner and he began to collect his things.

                                        ***

Bucky had made his way back to the Avengers compound with relative ease, though his mind was still stuck back at the coffee shop with you. He had nearly choked on his coffee when he saw you walk in and hardly realized what he was doing when he called out to you. His mind had started screaming at him from the second he offered you a seat and apparently had yet to find a good enough reason to stop. Talking to you had been magical. He had forgotten how well the two of you meshed once a conversation was started. Nobody else had ever been able to keep up with his constant jumping between topics, not even Sam and Steve. You never made him feel bad for his quick transitions; you just understood and accepted that was the way his mind worked. Even after all that time, you took it all in stride.

An unexpected slam of a cabinet door caught his attention as he made his way through the communal kitchen. Sam was standing there, unloading dishes from the dishwasher. Bucky greeted the man with a gentle nod of the head as he pulled out one of the barstools to sit.

“That was a long coffee shop visit, you run into a cute girl there?” Sam teased, smirk playing across his face.

“I ran into her.”

Sam’s motions paused as he processed Bucky’s words. He looked up at his friend, who was conveniently not meeting his gaze, unsure of how to respond. “Her as in…?”

Bucky nodded and Sam let out a slow puff of air. “How are you feeling?” Sam asked cautiously.

It took a few minutes for Bucky to find the words. “You know Sammy, I actually don’t know. There are too many contradictory feelings in my head to pinpoint just one.” He finally looked up and met Sam’s eyes.

Sam motioned for him to continue.

“It was so nice to see her again and talk to her. It made me feel like things were back when we were both still head over heels in love with each other. She’s doing so well. She’s made huge progress mentally, she’s been given a promotion at work, she’s just out there living her life. It made me so happy to see...

“But the happier I got sitting there talking to her, the angrier I got with myself for being such an ass while I was with her. Who has a woman like that in their life and chooses to ignore her for work? What kind of jerk does that?” He paused for a moment, staring down at his feet before continuing.

“There was a moment where she looked at me and I looked at her and I just knew we were both wondering where the hell we went so wrong. She looked like she wanted to say something so badly, but decided against it and just...got up and left. I kinda deserved it though-” he let out a dark chuckle, “- it’s what I did to her after all.”

Sam had continued unloading the dishes as Bucky spoke, trying to keep things casual while he got everything off his chest. Once Sam knew Bucky was done, he paused and rested both hands on the counter to give his friend his full attention.

“Yeah, you were an ass who put work first. She was a great girl who loved you unconditionally. You let her down and yourself down too. But she also had her issues that contributed to what happened. It’s not all on you.” Sam shot a reassuring smile at Bucky.

Bucky nodded, knowing Sam was right. He couldn’t help but sigh and put his head in his hands though as more thoughts swirled around in his head. “I can’t help but think about how my actions probably worsened things for her though, you know? She was depressed for a while before I started acting that way, but I certainly didn’t help the situation. And just...I walked out on her. I walked out and didn’t even give her a proper goodbye.”

Sam stood still and nodded along. “You did, but what you’re forgetting is that you also did because it was also the best thing for you at the time. Both of you were unhappy with who the other was becoming at that time. Sometimes breaking up is the best route to take and they don’t always end with a clear-cut goodbye. You guys may have missed out on some closure, but if today went as well as you said it did, maybe you’ve got a different kind of closure coming down the pipe.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked up at his friend. “What do you mean?”

Sam rolled his eyes and laughed softly, “Man, what did your dumb ass do with girls before I came along?” He continued laughing for a moment before resuming, “What I’m getting at is that if today went as well as you think before the awkward ending, what if there’s a possibility of reconciling? Even if it’s not in a romantic sense, you could always try and be friends.”

For a moment, Bucky’s heart surged. Maybe Sam was right, maybe things could be fixed. He knew things were going well before you got up to leave, maybe he could try and make things right.

Then, the memory of how uneasy and uncomfortable you looked at the end of the conversation replayed in his mind. He felt his throat tighten and tears well up in his eyes. You didn’t want him back. He had his chance today and he blew it.

He shook his head slowly and whispered, “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Sammy.”

                                        ***

Sam eventually let the topic drop and Bucky was free to make his way back to his rooms. A familiar meow rang out from across the room and was soon followed by the sound of excited footsteps rushing towards him. Alpine rubbed himself against Bucky’s legs, meowing expectantly. He chuckled and crouched down to rub Alpine’s ears.

“Hey there buddy, did you miss me?”

Alpine meowed, almost as if to say yes. Bucky smiled and picked up the cat before standing up. He made his way to his bedroom and let Alpine jump down onto the bed once they were close enough. His boots were kicked off haphazardly at the foot of the bed before he climbed into bed. Alpine came and curled up under one of his arms, purring slightly as he did. A sigh left him as he mindlessly pet the cat and adjusted his position until he was comfortable.

Bucky’s thoughts turned back to you almost immediately. His heart ached as he began to relive the night he knew he had fallen in love with you. How he wished he could go back in time and experience it all over again.

“So, Stark is holding a fundraiser in about three weeks. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?” Bucky asked.

The smile on your face made his heart flutter. “Of course! What’s the dress code?” you asked. “I’m not sure if I have anything fancy enough to wear to a Stark gala.”

“It’s a 1920s theme. I’m not entirely sure what he means by that though, considering I was barely old enough to remember the first half of the decade.”

A teasing smile broke out across your face as he spoke. “So what you're telling me is the oldest man in the room somehow still isn’t old enough to remember the roaring twenties? Tsk tsk,” Your teasing tone made him laugh and lean over to kiss you.

“I’ll have you know young lady -” he paused to place kisses all over your face “- this is a completely unacceptable thing to say. Don’t you know you should respect your elders?” You continued to giggle as he continued to kiss you.

                                        ***

On the day of the gala, you were whisked away early in the day by Natasha. She claimed the whole day was needed to properly prepare, which left Bucky standing there rolling his eyes. But when you finally stepped out of the elevator into the lobby of the compound, Bucky felt his heart stop. You looked ethereal. The flapper style dress you were wearing fit you perfectly, your hair was elegantly framing your face, and your lips were painted the most perfect shade of red he had ever seen. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you the entire night.

By the end of the night, the champagne finally had gone to your head and you were desperate to leave. You grabbed his hand giggling, rushing as quickly as you could out of the reserved plaza. You stumbled a few times over the uneven cobblestones, so he kept a hand on your waist just in case.

“Bucky, I need to find somewhere to sit down. I need to take off my heels.” you giggled as you spoke, making his heart flutter for the millionth time that night. Without a word, he picked you up bridal style and slowly spun around as he searched for somewhere you could sit.

His eyes landed on a large fountain a short distance away and he began walking towards it. You settled comfortably into his arms, with one hand sneaking under his tux jacket and gripping gently onto his shirt just over his heart. Bucky wondered if you could tell it was about ready to beat out of his chest as he leaned slightly to set you down on the fountain’s edge. He had hardly sat down next to you before your heels were kicked off. It was amazing how much more relaxed you looked just from doing that.

He was so focused on how beautiful you looked he almost didn’t hear you giggle or realize what you were about to do. His jaw dropped slightly as you stood in front of him in the fountain, dress pulled up slightly as you waded in.

Bucky’s eyes never left you as you walked around, letting out the cutest laughs with each stream of water that you walked under. When you arrived back at where he was sitting and his whole world stopped as you bent forward to press your sweet lips against his. Your hands found their way to his hair as his made their way to your hips. With every ounce of his being, he wished his hands could make their home. They belonged there, allowing him to hold you so tightly against him it was almost impossible to tell where his body stopped and yours began.

It startled him when you pulled away suddenly, but the confusion didn’t last long as he was met with a handful of water and mischievous laughter. The splashing was relentless. You refused to stop despite him begging for you to quit it. He rushed to remove his shoes and socks so he could jump into the fountain with you. The excited squeal that left your mouth as you started rushing through the water trying to escape him made him grin. He was going to catch you and you knew it. That didn’t stop you from trying to delay the inevitable though. You tried to hide behind the fountain's centerpiece and to fake which direction you were going to run. When you decided to leave the safety of the centerpiece, he had you back in his arms facing him within seconds.

As he watched your face, the overwhelming urge to confess the extent of his feelings filled his chest. He loved you. He had known for weeks now, but staring at your beautiful face reaffirmed it so deeply in his soul that it felt like an integral part of who he was now. Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but the words failed him. Instead, he leaned forward and he channeled everything he had into a kiss. He wanted this to be the kind of kiss written about in fairytales; one that leaves audiences tearing up over and longing for. He hoped you felt everything he didn’t have the courage to say tonight and the small voice in his head hoped you felt the same.

He felt you smile into the kiss, making his heart swell. He pulled away gently after a moment, staying close enough to press kisses across your face. You had told him once how special you felt when he did it; now he couldn't stop doing it. He needed you to know how special you were to him, how loved you were in his arms. When he was satisfied, he rested his forehead against yours. An idea struck him and he smiled at you, “Would you like to dance?”

You nodded and he began to lead you in a slow dance throughout the fountain. He had never felt more grateful for the dancing experience he gained in his youth and that it was a skill he somehow kept throughout the years of brainwashing and torture. The feeling of your body against his calmed his mind and kept his focus from wandering back to the past. The only thing he wanted to think about right now was how beautiful you were and how lucky he was to have you.

After a few minutes of him leading you aimlessly around the fountain, you pulled away gently and looked up at him with a smile. “We should make a wish.”

His face twisted with confusion. “A wish?”

You smiled as you nodded at him, “You know, toss some coins into the fountain and make a wish as we do.”

Bucky laughed as he thought about how much like a fairytale this night was turning into. Apparently his kiss had done the trick. “I don’t think this is a wishing-well. Although -” he chuckled again, “-I hardly think they meant for anyone to dance around in it either, so why not.”

Reluctantly, he let go of your hand and fished around in his pocket until he found his wallet. He’d never felt more relieved to see pennies in his life as he pulled out the only two coins he had. He pressed one into your hand as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “It looks like we only get one wish each tonight, so we’d better make it a good one.”

He watched as you stared down at the penny, wondering what wish you were going to make. Your face was serious as you thought but broke out into the most beautiful smile. You stood there, coin pressed to your lips, before tossing it out into the fountain. You stared up at him expectantly, waiting for him to make his wish.

He didn’t need to stop and think about his wish. He knew what his wish was from the day he met you. Following your motions, he pressed the penny to his lips and wished, ‘I wish for a life filled with more wonderful nights like this, with this beautiful woman in my arms’. He tossed the coin in and his hand found its way back into yours.

Without a word, he pulled you back in close to him and resumed leading you around the fountain. After a few moments of peaceful silence, he spoke.

“What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true,” you said, voice teasing as you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “And let me tell you, I really want this wish to come true.”

“Me too honey, me too.”

As the memory faded, Bucky couldn’t help but let the tears that had been building fall. That night had been so wonderful. You deserve someone who could give you nothing but nights like that, not the heartache he put you through. He closed his eyes and whispered to no one but himself, “You could’ve been the one. You should’ve been the one...”

[127-mile]

Lonely hearts club.

Pairing: Sicheng x gender neutral reader.

Genre: College!au, strangers to lovers | Fluff, humor.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption.

Plot: Johnny decided to throw a Valentine's day party for him and his single friends. Guests must draw a name from a bowl to be paired with for the duration of the party. Sicheng picked your name.

Prompt: “We should do this again.”

Word count: +2.3k.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s day, guys. This is part of the “Candy hearts collab”. The collab’s masterlist is in my main masterlist, go read the other writers’ works.

"Welcome to the Lonely hearts club," Johnny begins to say, hands on his hips. "if we are here today, it is because we all are single on this special day. So instead of getting drunk on our own, I decided to make a little game out of this party." from the makeshift bar, he takes a bowl filled with little pieces of paper. "You will all draw a name from this bowl, and will be paired with this person for the duration of the party."

"Is that why you asked me to write everyone's names instead of studying earlier?" you ask, and Johnny nods, lips curling into a smile. You watch as a few guests get up to leave, but Johnny shakes something in front of them. The key of the house. "I am not giving you a choice. The only way for you to leave is through the windows, but it will probably startle the alarms, so except if you want to spend the night in jail, you should come and pick a name."

Johnny thought of everything, and you are not surprised.

"Are you going to draw a name, or are you going to watch and laugh at us?" you ask the host of the party, and he nibbles on his lower lip. "I'm not watching you all fall in love while crying over my sad and pathetic romantic life." he is always so dramatic.

You take a step back when the guests come to pick up a piece of paper, and you grab a cup to fill it with vodka. Maybe if you are drunk enough, the person with whom you'll have to be paired will leave and let you enjoy the rest of the night.

"Are you here to force me into the living room, or to hide from Johnny and his crazy idea?" you hear when you head to the kitchen where you know you will be safe, but you are not alone. Your eyes meet the ones of a young man, blond hair, and soft brown eyes. "I am hiding, do not worry."

"Then you are allowed to stay."

You roll your eyes, and you sit on the kitchen counter. You listen to the names being called, the laughs that follow, and even the sound of the bowl falling and breaking when Johnny's name is being shouted by someone. "We are going to be here for awhile, so might as well make the most of it. I'm Sicheng."

You were not expecting the stranger to talk, but you are not mad about it. He has a nice voice, even muffled by the hubbub coming from the living room. "I'm Y/n, nice to meet you Sicheng. Are you friends with Johnny, or Jaehyun?" you ask, and he takes a sip from his bottle of beer.

"I am unfortunately friends with both of them." oh, that must hurts, you think. "I'm truly sorry that you have to put up with both of them." you say in a comforting voice, and it makes Sicheng laugh. Oh, this is a really pretty sound. "I hope you'll find better friends after this party. I'm not offering my help, as I am friends with Johnny."

"Y/n! It's your turn!" oh fuck.

You get down from the counter, and you crouch behind the kitchen island which was a great idea, because Johnny enters the room immediately. "Win, have you seen Y/n?" you turn your head towards the young man, and you put you index finger against your lips, and he just shrugs. "I have no idea who Y/n even is."

Johnny heaves a sigh, but he does not leave the room. "Alright, then it's your turn Sicheng." Sicheng's eyes widen, he really thought he would be safe in this room, but turns out, nowhere is safe when Johnny has an idea. "Do I have to?" Johnny scoffs. "Yes. Don't make me pick a name for you."

Sicheng glares at you, and he leaves the kitchen. The guests are scattered around the living room and the garden, so Johnny and Jaehyun's eyes are the only one he feels on his back as he picks a piece of paper from the floor. The bowl is effectively broken, and no one bothered to clean.

He laughs when he reads the name on the paper, and he turns it towards the two boys. "Y/n! Come out, your party buddy is waiting for you."

A party buddy? What the fuck is a party buddy? You stay hidden, but then another voice is heard, and you have no choice but to straighten up. "Y/n, we can hide in the kitchen some more if you want."

You rest your shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed against your chest. "Did you cheat?" you ask when you see your name written on the piece of paper in between his fingers, and he shakes his head. "I would never! Fate is just funny like that."

"You two already know each other? That's cool! Go now, have fun, get drunk, don't throw up on the couch, and don't fuck in my parents' bed." Johnny says before disappearing in the garden with Jaehyun by his side. "We needs new friends." you mutter, and Sicheng agrees.

Without a word, you go back to the kitchen and you sit back down on the counter. "Do you think we did something terrible in our past lives to have them as friends?" you wonder out loud, and Sicheng just sighs. "Or we did something so great that they decided to slap us with some humility by giving us these friends."

He sure is right.

The first hour goes by quickly, and smoothly.

Sicheng talks about his studies, and his dream of opening a dance studio in town, and you talk about your own projects. The advantage of being in the kitchen is that no one is bothering you. Sometimes Johnny comes in to grab beers from the fridge, but he leaves right away.

"Should we go and visit Johnny's room?" Sicheng suddenly asks, and you smile. "I thought you would never ask."

You were not planning on spending an entire night with the same person, so you take what you can get to be a little bit more entertain. Not that Sicheng is boring, far from that, but the atmosphere is not the one of a Valentine's Day party. It is quite the opposite. The guests are awkward with each other, so they drink cup after cup of alcohol, and even inhebriated, it does not help them get the stick out of their asses.

Tomorrow morning is going to be a mess, you know it. You also know that Johnny is going to regret his decision of having this kind of party.

"Do you know which bedroom it is?" Sicheng asks as you walk through the corridor of the first floor. "I'm pretty sure this is this one." you say, poiting at a door with Johnny's name painted on it. "Oh, he is that kind of loser then."

"It's his childhood's bedroom, don't be so mean." you whisper, but in a way, he is right. Johnny is kind of a loser.

Unlike the other doors, this one is not unlocked. "He is making it too easy." you step inside the bedroom, and as expected, it looks really childish. The wallpaper is blue with cars on it, the bed is way too small for Johnny's long legs and plushies are all around the room, which is not too different from his actual bedroom.

"Look!" you join Sicheng in front of a whill covered with photos of Johnny's growth into adulthood. You take your phone out, and you snap a few pictures of the photos, and when Sicheng looks at you, you just shrug. "I need blackmail material for the next time he tries to pull a stunt like this."

You sit on the edge of the bed, and you look up. "Oh no, that's disgusting." you mutter as you see yourself on the mirror glue to the ceiling. "Does a kid really need a mirror on the ceiling? Ew!"

"I'm pretty sure he got it installed when his parents started traveling. For his conquests, I guess." Sicheng explains, and that makes sense, but that's still disgusting. Fucking someone in his childhood's bedroom, in a child's bed. The thing is, you are not even surprised.

"Do you think Johnny was serious when he talked about the alarms going off if we try to open a window?" you shrug, and you watch as Sicheng gets up to walk to the window. "We should try."

You open your eyes wide. "Do you really want to finish the night in jail? Johnny is stupid enough to tell the cops that we actually tried to break in the house while he was having a party." especially if he is drunk.

"We won't if we run fast enough."

Sicheng has something in his voice, something that prompts you on your feet and behind him. "Except if we die from the gall." you say in a low voice close to his ear and you see the skin of his arm break into goosebumps. "You are right. We should try from downstairs' bathroom."

"I have to get my things back anyway." together, you leave Johnny's bedroom and when you both have your jackets and bags, Sicheng locks the door behind you. "Isn't it a bit too mean to lock the door?" Sicheng looks back and he decides to unlock the door. He wants to piss off Johnny, but he does not want the guests to trash his house with vomit.

"Are you ready?" he asks, and you nod.

When he opens the window, nothing happens at first. And after a couple of seconds, an alarm echoes in the house. "Why can't they just have those silent alarm with a notification on their phone, it'd be way more discreet."

"Sicheng, get out of the bathroom, we don't have time!" he shakes his head with vigor and he slings a leg on the other side of the window and he gets out of the bathroom, face immediately whipped by the cold wind. You do the same, and he helps you to avoid you from tripping.

You hear screams inside the house, and you try not to imagine Johnny's face when he understands that someone actually opened a window to leave. "We are so dead." you say before running.

Sicheng runs and laughs at the same time, and hearing him laugh is enough to make you laugh too. His laugh is addicting, just like his presence, and you are glad Johnny did this. If you had not had to hide in the kitchen, you would not have met Sicheng, and that would have been a shame.

After a few minutes of intense run, Sicheng grabds your wrist and pushes you into a dark alley. "I think we're far enough." he says in a sigh, and you nod. You are breathless, hands on your knees, you break into a fit of giggles despite the burn in your lungs. "We are the worst friends ever." you breath out.

"They are the worst, we did what we had to do." he answers, and he is right. You freeze when you hear your phone rings in the pocket of your jacket. You take it out, and you bite the inside of your cheek when you see Johnny's picture on the screen.

"Johnny, why are you calling me, we are in the same house!" you exclaim in faux surprise, and Sicheng puts a hand on his mouth to muffle a laugh. "My hearing is pretty good, so yes, I definitely heard the alarm. But that does not answer my question, why are you calling me?" you nod, even though Johnny can't see it.

"Sicheng and I are in the house, we are watching you right now, you can't see us?" he is going to hate you both, and you are ready, really. "How many drinks did you have tonight? Because we are waving at you right now! Just turn around!" Johnny starts to mumble about the alcohol he has in his cup, so you take the opportunity to hang up.

"Did he believe you?" Sicheng asks, and you shrug. "I don't know, but what I know is that he thinks he is more drunk than he actually is, which is a good thing." Sicheng threads his fingers through his hair, and he inhales deeply.

"I'm starving, do you want to go eat something?"

And that's how you find yourself sitting in the booth of a fast food, in the middle of the night. "I thought this place would be empty tonight." you say, looking around.

A few couples are here, sharing fries and sodas, some people are alone, either enjoying a night light every other nights, a boy is even crying in the corner. "Poor boy probably got dumped."

"I would dump him with this haircut too." Sicheng grumbles, mouth full of fries, and you roll your eyes. Johnny has been texting you for the past twenty minutes, wondering why he can't find you, and every time the screen lights up, you chuckle. Poor boy.

"Well, all in all, that was a pretty nice party." you state, and the young man nods. "I think so too."

"We should do this again." he adds right away, and you tilt your head to the side. "Bothering Johnny?" Sicheng laughs softly, but he shakes his head. "No. This. Together. You know, like a date?" his cheeks take on a soft pink hue, and you can't help but smile. "I'd love that."

Tonight was your last night as part of the Lonely Hearts Club, and that's thanks to Johnny and his crazy ideas.

[jjyusmile]

to feel free [social media au] - epilogue

please read under the cut!

pairing: best friend!juyeon x reader

genre: fluff, angst, sometimes suggestive

summary: what happens when your idea of soulmates is corrupted and the fear of losing your soul places walls around your heart?

word count: 1.7k

warning: swearing, mentions of food

taglist: @yeolsbubbles​ @localjisung​ @cgv-kayy​ @elcie-chxn​ @jaehyvnsvalentine​ @s33saw​ @softforqiankun​ @multistan-net​ @lovecn​ @maxiimiliane​ @bbangsoonie​ @younggwingss​ @staysstrays​ @winterbeartaehyungbestboy​

epilogue | main post

EPILOGUE; ‘but what happened’

the way your palms were rough against the handle of the saucepan as the water began to boil. the way your hands shook as you rummaged for the eggs in your fridge, his favourite ramen extra. his.

juyeon.

it was safe to say you were nervous, abundant scenarios flittering through your mind as you imagined his feet scuffling against the stairs as he made his way up. no you weren’t timing how long it took him to wrap his knuckles against your front door. nope. not at all!

but when they eventually did, the looming sound sent shockwaves through you as your spoon clattered on the side.

“just a second,” a shaky breath leaving your throat.

eyes scanning the apartment, you attempted to find something to delay having to look him in the eyes. with everything in place, as usual, you began to scold yourself for even worrying about the way things may seem to him. its usually him making the mess in the first place. memories of noodles being dropped on the floor, red wine threatening to spill over the top of the glass. small reminders of your best friend pulling at the corners of your lips.

you could hear shuffling from outside your door, clearly noting his impatience but caring personalities colliding with one another from the slither of light the seeped in the door frame. he fought the urge to knock again in fear of making you feel uncomfortable.

inhaling a deep breath, your eyes fluttered closed as your still shaking palm reached for the door handle. it was just juyeon. yes, just juyeon. the boy you realised you were unbelievably in love with since you first laid eyes on each other. the dull burn that lit whenever you thought of him began to ignite once again in the pit your stomach. just open the door.

and there he was. like a deer caught in the headlights as you flung the door open, juyeon’s chocolate brown eyes melting into your own like its the first time he is seeing you. the waves on his hair peaking out from under his grey hood, oversized yet hugging his body in comfort. he looked warm, as he always did, and inviting.

who knew how long you had been standing there, eyes flickering across each others faces in fear that this could be a moment that changes everything.

and it was him that broke the silence. “I missed you.”

his eyes were a little glossy, concern washing over them along with subtle hope that he hadn’t crossed the line.

“I missed you too,” another shaky breath, but your words were met with his relaxing shoulders. “do you want to come in?”

he nodded silently, afraid to open his mouth again. when did it come to this? since when did you walk on egg shells around each other?

with acceptance, he shuffled past you, heading straight for the stove to turn it off. “I thought you wanted ramen.”

a soft smile graced his lips as he turned to face you, resting against the kitchen countertop. “we both know that was an excuse.”

he was fighting the urge to come close to you, you noticed by the way his knuckles paled as he clutched to the countertop. so you took your chance, walking closer to him. instinctively, he reached for you, fingers circling your waist as your head met his chest.

his nose pressed against the crown of your head, he inhaled, the light vanilla that lingered from your shampoo flooding him with comfort. and you melted into his chest, unable to stop yourself from nuzzling in. it was as though the last month hadn’t happened.

“I didn’t mean it.” he waited for your body to go rigid, bit you just nuzzled closer. you knew he didn’t mean it. but what you didn’t know was what he was trying so hard to tell you.

“I’ve been trying to tell you something for so long...” he trailed off.

at this, you pulled away, searching his eyes. he was nervous, scared even.

your lips turned up in encouragement, fingers finding his with a light squeeze. he took this as an opportunity to pull you toward the sofa, placing you comfortably as his hands pushed you down by your shoulders; he took his spot beside you. he was far enough away that you missed his warmth already, but close enough for your knees to brush every so often.

with a deep breath, he began.

“what I said that day, it didn’t come out how I had hoped it would. not even because I had drunk my weight in soju...” he paused briefly, fingers fidgeting in his lap, gaze unmoving from the way his fingers knotted together. “... I can’t seem to put into words how I feel.”

“how you feel about what?” an unwelcome shaky breath left your lips again.

it was met with one of his own. until his finally lifted his head to look at you and it was like one of those cheesy scenes in films, where everything around the two protagonists froze in time.

“about you.” this time, your own were glistening. but he didn’t stop there.

“it’s ridiculous, if you think about it. the person I have opened up to for as long as I can remember, the one who knew all my secrets, didn’t know my biggest secret of all.”

you weren’t sure what caused him to reach for your jaw, but suddenly your eyes were fixed on him, unable to look anywhere else as his fingers rested under your chin.

“you know what I’m trying to say, right?” he quizzed.

you couldn’t help it. you knew exactly what he meant. the way his eyes glossed over whenever he was taking in your features, watching you do the things you loved, when he thought you didn’t catch him watching you rather than the film. hints had always been there, you were more afraid that you were reading too far into it. but this time, you were sure you weren’t.

so when your hand placed over his moved to cup the side of your neck, his eyes widened ever so slightly. but the urge you both had fought off for so long was getting harder each moment you realised your proximity; it was evidently the more prominent his breath felt against your upper lip.

you noticed subtle flecks of gold that flittered around his pupils the closer he got, mesmerised by the emotion that swirled alongside them.

“are you sure?” the way his swallowed back the urge to lean in straight away showed, the evident hesitation of crossing the line he had always wanted but knew it might ruin everything.

“yes,” it came out as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke any louder it would burst the bubble you had wrapped yourselves in.

with a quiet “fuck it,” his lips met yours - in that moment, everything crumbled away in its entirety. the fear, the hesitation, the worry that it would change everything had dissipated completely.

there was no hesitation, only certainty as he applied more pressure against your lips. you were wrapped up in each other, pent up emotions pouring through every touch. you couldn’t help the tear that escaped.

“I’m so in love with you,” was muttered between stolen breaths, evoking a low hum from your throat. you pulled away to focus on his gaze, slightly light-headed from the intensity of the kiss.

“I think i always have been,” he murmured, head rested against your forehead, thumb coming up to wipe away the fallen tears.

although the previous kiss had put those words into action, it didn’t stop that fire lighting once more. “I love you too.”

and there it was. the smile you had missed more than anything. the one that formed adorable crinkles around his eyes, causing his nose to scrunch up just slightly. he rubbed his nose against yours slowly, trying to savour every part of this moment. the one he had waited for since you were teens.

but in typical juyeon fashion, he broke the beautiful silence. “won’t hanse have something to say about you kissing other guys?”

he squealed as you stood up abruptly to counter attack his remark, defenseless as you leapt at him, both of you falling into the sofa, you conveniently placed on his lap.

“if I didn’t know you any better, I would claim you planned this.” he shot with a wink, placing his palm against your thigh that rested either side of his.

you reached up to take his cheeks between your fingers, squeezing so that his lips adorned a pout. giggles erupted from you at the sight, leaning in once again for a quick peck.

“there was never any hanse,” you admitted. “we met as friends, and gave each other advice on how to handle our own emotions.”

his adorable face morphed into a cocky smirk as he shot back, “so you used your boyfriend to talk about your real soulmate.” 

the way his eyes lit up as he mentioned soulmates was a sight you could look at forever. “something like that,” you replied, shyly hiding in the crook of his neck. he smelt like vanilla, too. little did you know, he had used to spare shampoo you kept at his place because he missed you that much.

the smirk reappeared earning a smack on the shoulder from you, turning quickly into a tickle fight, your giggles mingling in the quiet apartment.

neither of you had noticed the door swing open until kevin’s screams vibrated off the walls, “MY EYESSSSS”

the both of you were like a deer caught in the headlights.

in the doorway stood your best friends, changmin with his hands covering his mouth in shock, and jacob covering his own eyes, as well as kevin’s. something you’d have to pull jacob up on later.

it wasn’t until changmin lowered his hands from his mouth that juyeon loosened his grip against your thigh. “even though I feel lonely as shit, I am so relieved right now.”

it was only when you felt juyeon snuggled into your neck with soft giggles, his hands resting against your lower back, did it actually feel real at all. 

sensing your slight embarrassment, changmin added “maybe we should’ve knocked...”