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is0gild · 4 years

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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 27

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 10,891

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

You know that counting sheep thing?

Does. Not. Work.

Of course, maybe I'd be having better luck with it if I was able to go more than seven or eight sheep before my stupid brain would get distracted chasing some other wayward thought down the rabbit hole.

And it didn't help that there were so many wayward thoughts to choose from too. There was wondering when all that seething rage Grandfather was barely keeping in check was finally going to explode and murder me. There was confusion over Mother's actions and uncertainty as to which side she was going to end up being on, mine or that of the family's reputation. There was dread over the talk I was going to have with her and Father that had seemed to take so distressingly, painfully long to get here but now that the time was finally almost upon me, it suddenly seemed far too soon.

But probably the one that was eating away at me most of all, the one playing complete havoc with my nerves, the one that had kept me up tossing and turning all night long so far… was Anna.

I hadn't seen her for the rest of the party. To be fair, I hadn't stayed much longer after she'd fled from me. By that point, my capacity for human interaction had been maxed out and I'd needed to get out of there. Thankfully, Lea had managed to free himself from the clutches of my relations and had rejoined me, bearing two slices of cake. One look at me was all it took for him to know, then he was helping me make a quick exit. After escorting me back to my room, Lea had asked if I wanted company but I'd turned him down, saying I just wanted to go to sleep. He'd left me with a smile and one of the pieces of cake, which I'd set aside untouched on my vanity. From there, I'd changed into my nightgown and readied myself for bed, doing a poor job of it as I didn't even braid my hair. Then I'd turned off the light and crawled under the covers.

But I did not sleep.

Instead my mind whirled and raced and at the forefront of it all was Anna. What was it that had her so upset? Why couldn't she just tell me? How could it have caused such a drastic change in her attitude towards me? When had it even all begun? Was it something that she had been dealing with in silence, letting it fester for some time now and I just hadn't noticed until it'd gotten to be too much for her and she could no longer keep it hidden?

These were just a few of the questions that had kept me up. Were still keeping me up, even now as I spotted the first feeble rays of sunrise beginning to light the night sky outside my window. Honestly, this thing with Anna was stressing me out more at this point than even the idea of The Talk™ was.

But thankfully, all that sleeplessness hadn't been for naught! I had a theory now. I'd been over it again and again in my head. Mentally retracing and RE-retracing every step, every action I'd taken in the weeks between my wedding day and this very weekend, trying to figure out what it was I'd done, how I'd wronged my sister. And there was only one thing I could think of.

I should have called her sooner.

After running away, I shouldn't have waited so long to let her know that I was okay. God, she must have been going out of her mind with worry waiting to hear from me. I know I would've been, had our roles been reversed. And sure, she'd seemed fine that first day she'd tracked me down at the food court, not to mention every day that'd followed after that up to this point. But she'd probably just been keeping the fact that it had really hurt her to herself. And to make matters worse, I hadn't even ever apologized for how long it'd taken me to reach out to her. That's probably all I'd needed to do to make things okay - an acknowledgment of my thoughtlessness and a simple sorry. That was it. And it'd never even occurred to me to do that, not once, not until right now in the wee hours of early dawn.

True, it was all just a guess. But it's all that I had! Now then... how to make her feel safe and comfortable enough to open up and just tell me that? It's not like when we were kids and could just talk to each other about anything and everything. It's not like I could just magically make it all better like we'd always used to over whipping up a batch of-

I suddenly sat up with a gasp.

Because that's when I had it.

I knew what to do.

"Scotcheroos!"

"There you are!"

I didn't even glance up at the sound of Lea's voice, just paused long enough to sample a quick taste of the contents of my mixing bowl before scrunching up my face. "No, no, it's still wrong… maybe I just need to…" my muttering trailed off as I resumed pacing and stirring the concoction more furiously.

"Ya know, I take it back," he said, crossing his arms and leaning one shoulder against the kitchen door frame. "This place isn't a Clue board, it's a goddamn labyrinth. I've been wandering 'round lost in circles for who knows how long now. Luckily, I eventually came across a minotaur who I could ask directions. Good guy. Not at all as bullheaded as the stories would have you believe."

I was only half paying attention to what he was saying. Apparently, it wasn't the half that knew a lame pun when it heard it. Instead it was the half that marched up to him, shoved a small, chocolate-butterscotch coated spatula in front of his face and asked, "Does this taste right to you?"

He blinked, eyes flicking to the silicone scraper then back to me. Then he poked a finger to the goop and stuck it in his mouth. "...it tastes good?"

I huffed and pressed, "But does it taste right?"

"Yes?" he ventured a guess. I frowned and squinted up at him hard. "...and by yes, I of course mean no. Obviously!"

"I knew it!" I whirled around to slam the bowl down onto the counter. My hand came up to rub a curled finger over my chin as I groaned, "Ugh, what am I missing here?"

He was looking at me. At the nightgown I was still wearing. At my bare feet. At my hair thrown up into a loose, sloppy bun with several obstinate tendrils escaping to trail all around my face and neck. "...so is this where you've been hiding all morning?"

"All morning?" I laughed, shaking my head as I moved over to a second bowl on the stove top. Maybe I'd been on the right track with this earlier attempt. "Don't exaggerate, it's only-"

"Noon?" he offered with a half-shrug.

"Noon?!" I parroted back in disbelief. He nodded and I looked to the clock on the oven, which only further confirmed it. "But that's impossible, there's quite simply no way I've-" the words caught in my throat however, for all it took was one glance about the kitchen to verify that, yes in fact, there quite simply was way. My parent's home had a massive, king-sized kitchen to be sure but even so, I'd managed to cover almost every surface in it with many, many other bowls filled with all my previous discarded attempts. Oh gosh, you'd think I'd been at this all night, not just merely since the crack of dawn.

"Ya missed breakfast by the way," Lea said conversationally. "Man, was it awkward with only me sitting there with your folks, Gramps and a handful of your aunts and uncles. Lemme tell you, they're not as big of fans as you are of the Let Me Guess Your Fave Ice Cream game."

I winced, scratching my cheek with a tiny, "Sorry." Now that I thought about it, I did remember the cook bustling about in here as well at some point, probably making the breakfast Lea was referring to. She'd left me to my own devices, the kitchen being more than big enough to accommodate us both without getting in each others' ways. I'd only thought she'd been in here for a minute or two though.

He waved it off, "Nah, don't worry about it. I like to think your fam and I really bonded over all those crepes and long, uncomfortable silences."

I just gave a vague hmm in my throat, already distracted by the task at hand once more as I moved from one bowl to the next. This one? No… Maybe this one? No…

"I didn't know ya knew how to cook," I heard him say.

"I don't," I muttered, pulling a face at the peanut butter rice crispy batter in this pot, which was a whole other mess of problems. One minor catastrophe at a time, however. First I needed to figure out the topping, then I could work out the rest. I sidestepped to the next bowl.

Lea tipped his head to one side. "So then you just know the recipe for this one thing?"

"Not really, no."

His lips pursed to the right. "...struck in the middle of the night by the sudden, inexplicable but undeniable urge to teach yourself how to cook before the day's out?"

I paused, looking up to meet his gaze. "Yes."

He cocked an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Nope." And my search continued! Maybe in that pan over there…

"Okay seriously, whatcha doing?"

Ah-ha! Not the pan, but the gigantic bowl right next to it! I think this batch had been the closest so far. I picked it up and started walking towards Lea, declaring, "Scotcheroos!"

His brow furrowed, "Scotcha-wha?"

"Scotcheroos," I repeated, coming to a stop in front of him and shifting my hold on the container to one arm before stabbing a finger into the mixture. "Taste," I calmly demanded - his only warning before I suddenly stuck my fingertip drenched in sugary, chocolatey goodness into his mouth, forcing a small, strangled noise to choke out of his throat. Hand retracting, my eyes big and round and imploring, I asked, "What's the missing ingredient?"

"I, uh…" he cleared his throat, averting his gaze under my scrutiny as he rubbed at the nape of his neck. Then he snerked and grin, "Love?"

My eyelids drooped. "...not funny."

"It was a lil funny," he mumbled, making me scoff as I spun around and started pacing again, free hand coming up to clasp over my mouth as my index finger tapped the tip of my nose in thought. "C'mon, El, what're ya worried about? It tastes fine."

"But it doesn't taste right," I insisted, snatching up a clean spatula from a nearby utensil holder and feverishly stirring at the mixture. Was that helping? No clue. As previously stated, I didn't know the first thing about cooking. "And it has to. It must be absolutely perfect. You see, when Anna and I were children, Halima used to come over all the time and make these with us. Particularly whenever there was a squabble between us girls that she wanted to help settle. And these always, I don't know… helped… make things better. Somehow. So I thought that maybe… If I could just… Then possibly Anna would..." I stopped, puffed out a slow breath and regathered myself. "But it's been so long since she last made them with us and it just keeps coming out… wrong. I can't remember the exact recipe."

"Why not ask Halima?" he suggested, moving to stand opposite the kitchen island from me.

My eyes rolled as my feet continued to patrol back and forth. "What, at 6 a.m. when this whole madness began? Besides, I don't think she and Mattias even stayed here last night and I don't have her phone number."

"Well then, they have this fabulous invention called the internet."

"Don't you think I tried that already?" I swung up the spatula in frustration, sending some butterscotch-chocolate flying straight towards Lea. He ducked and it blurred over his head to splatter against a wall behind him. "But all the recipes out there are a little different, and none of them know Halima's secret ingredient."

He snapped his fingers, "Applesauce."

I froze midstep. Then I slowly turned to look at him, the hint of a smile tugging at one corner of my lips. "So you were listening last night."

"Course!" he beamed, hunching forward and propping his elbows on the island countertop, arms folded together. "Always do when ya got something to say."

I snorted, brushing the empty sweet talk off as I went back to pacing and stirring. "Anyway, nice try, but it's not like she uses the same secret ingredient in all her recipes. Hmm, maybe it was… honey? Or coconut oil? ...marshmallow cream...?" When I happened to glance Lea's way again, my feet came to a grinding halt once more as I gasped, "Sea salt!"

Both his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "As in the ice cream?"

"No, as in sea salt." Slapping the spatula down onto a counter, I started throwing open all the overhead cupboards in a frantic search. The upside of such a well-stocked kitchen was it had everything. The downside was it could be impossible to find the one thing you actually needed. But behold! Sea salt! There at last, in the ninth cupboard I'd check. But ugh, of course it just had to be on the top shelf, didn't it?

Swiping a finger over my cheek to brush a few strands of hair out of my face (which then promptly fell back into place), I secured the mixing bowl by hugging it tightly to my stomach with one arm while stretching the other up high over my head, reaching for the blue bottle. "It's probably not the ingredient, but it's at least one ingredient I forgot." Almost there…

A hand that wasn't mine suddenly appeared over my head to beat me to it, snatching up the little bottle of sea salt. I whipped around only to be greeted by the sight of a black band tee stretched snugly over a broad chest that I was becoming almost disturbingly all too familiar with at this point.

Pssst, Lea's eyes were up there, dummy.

Can you blame me, though? Really? I can't help it if the damn thing was always in my direct line of sight! Curse my genetics for making me so damn short!

I hastily looked up to meet his gaze as he offered me the sea salt. Gosh, he was so close. Really, the only thing separating us was my bowl. Beating my blush back with a proverbial stick, I gingerly took the small bottle with a soft, "Thank you." I then flicked the top open with my thumb and gave it a squint, wondering how much was too much. Welp, only one way to find out! I tipped it upside down over the mixture and let the pouring commence.

"So ya really think these Scotcha-thingies will get Anna to talk to you?" he shook his head slightly.

"I don't see why not." I kept dumping more and more out of the bottle. Better too much than too little, right? "It's always worked in the past. It'll work now. It has to."

"Yeah, but-"

"It has to!" I snapped desperately, slamming the bottle down on the countertop now with a loud bang that made me wince. Grimacing, I added more quietly, "Otherwise I don't know what else to do."

Lea frowned down at me. "...okay, real talk? How much sleep did you get last night?"

My nose wrinkled. "Zero, give or take an hour. Except not give, only take. Is it possible to get negative sleep?"

"If it is, you most certainly have," he snorted. "Alright, Missy, I think it's naptime for you."

A contemptuous huff escaped my nose. "Don't patronize me, I'm not a child. I'm fine."

"You have chocolate all over your face."

"I-?!" Embarrassed, my hand rushed up to scrub at my face. Lea's eyes crinkled and I could see him biting back a grin. When I lowered my hand to look at it, I figured out why. They were smeared all over in chocolate too, so I was probably only making the face situation worse.

He started lifting a hand towards me, then seemed to think better of it, using it to smother his smile instead. Then he asked, "Allow me?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. But then I sighed and tossed one hand up in an impatient gesture for him to get on with it. Snerking, he took the mixing bowl from my grasp and set it aside so he could step closer to me. His hand rose once more, gently brushing the curled knuckles of his fingers along my chin and across the tip of my nose, wiping away the smudges there. Was it just tired, sleep-deprived brain talking, or did he have that soft boyfriend look in his eyes again? Maybe he didn't even realize he was doing it. Maybe he'd forgotten how to turn it off at this point. Either way, that proverbial stick I'd mentioned earlier had snapped in two by now, making it impossible to keep the blush at bay anymore.

His hand cupped my cheek then, his thumb lightly stroking along my skin and leaving warm tingles in its wake. He let it linger there and I had to wonder at how stubborn that particular smear of chocolate must be. And still with that damn look. That thing could be considered a lethal weapon. Honestly, I was surprised I was still standing.

His lips parted, taking in a breath, about to say something and-

"Elsa dear." At the sudden sound of my mother's voice, Lea jumped and jerked back a step from me, swearing under his breath as he turned his back to us both, fingers viciously ruffling his crimson spikes. Mother arched one delicate eyebrow at me from where she had just appeared in the doorway. "Here you are. We've missed you all morning."

"Ah… yes, so I've heard. Sorry, I uh…" My hands self-consciously smoothed up and down my nightgown before clasping together as I took a quick glance about the kitchen. At the small mess I'd made here. Should I even try to explain? The more I thought about it, the more insane it sounded. "...just lost track of time, it seems," I finally settled on, hoping Mother wouldn't pry further.

Thankfully, she did not. Instead, she simply said, "Your father and I are ready for our discussion." She paused, giving my appearance a once over. "...perhaps you would like some time to freshen up first. You can join us in the Indigo Room in an hour." She tacked on a quick, "Lea," by way of greeting to him, bowing her head slightly.

"Ma'am," he returned with a weak chuckle and tiny wave. Then Mother turned and walked off, disappearing down the hallway. "Dun dun dun!" Lea mock chanted ominously, earning his shoulder a light smack from my hand and he sniggered.

Shaking my head, I muttered, "Well, guess I should go get changed."

"I'll meet ya outside your door when you're ready and we can take our lil stroll to the gallows together," he said brightly.

I gave a rueful smile, "You almost make it sound pleasant. Until then." On my way out, I ran across Gerda in the hall, who I asked to make sure no one tidied up the mess I'd left in the kitchen. Seeing as how it was a disaster zone of my own making, I preferred to clean it up myself later rather than make someone else do it. Then I headed up to my bedroom.

One would think I would be in a state of extreme panic now that the time of The Talk™ was finally upon me. However, as I switched out of my nightgown and got myself otherwise ready, I was oddly more just… numb. Huh. Perhaps I'd already used up all my crazy this morning and had nothing left in me to fret with. At least not right now, in the relative sanctuary of my old room. I'm sure I'd have no problem rustling up a fresh wave of cardiac arrest-inducing anxiety once I was standing in front of my parents.

But for now, I'd take comfort in this numbness. Who knew, maybe there really was nothing to worry about anyway. I'd been assuming the worst this whole time, but I honestly had no idea what this little chat was going to have in store for me. My parents had been doing too good of a job staying tight lipped and keeping their opinion on this matter to themselves. No big shock there, really. Who do you think invented the Conceal, Don't Feel mantra? My parents were the masters of that technique and had always been experts at keeping their cards close to the vest. But perhaps I was in for a pleasant surprise. Perhaps all they wanted to say was how proud of me they were for standing up for myself and how they would support whatever path in life I chose, as long as it made me happy!

...yeah right. All of Arendelle would freeze over in the middle of June before that happened.

Regardless, just under an hour later found me almost ready to go. I was somewhat more presentable now, dressed in a nice sundress I'd brought packed in my luggage for this weekend and with my hands and face washed clean of any remaining chocolate. I was just sitting down on the edge of my bed to tie my ankle boots when I heard my phone buzz. Retrieving it from my nightstand, one peek at the notifications informed me that Lea had sent a text:

Knock knock

I looked to my bedroom door. Then back to my phone, thumbs typing a message back.

Who's there?

There was a pause in his reply, so I tossed it onto the mattress next to me before reaching down to tug the laces of my boot tight. It wasn't until after I'd knotted the bow and moved onto the second shoe that my phone was vibrating again. I picked it up.

A dumbass

I quirked an eyebrow at that. Then tapped back:

A dumbass who?

I'd finished the other boot by the time his response came.

A dumbass who Bgan a knock knock joke w/o realizing it n so hz no punchline 4 u

One side of my mouth twitched up.

Wow, how embarrassing for you. They could revoke your snark license for that utterly epic failure.

I watched those three little dots bounce.

Shush n get ur butt out here alrdy

Snorting, I rose to my feet and pocketed my phone. A quick look around the room unfortunately revealed no further ways for me to procrastinate. Alright… guess it was time to get this over with. Heaving a heavy sigh through my nose, I exited the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind me.

Lea was waiting just outside, one shoulder propped against the wall to my left as he scrolled through his phone. Slipping it into his back pocket, he glanced up at me with a tiny smirk but then his spine snapped straight and his eyes widened. "That dress…"

"Hm? What about it?" I looked down at myself. There didn't seem anything particularly striking about it. Just a simple white sundress with a small purple diamond pattern decorating the hem at the bottom and- "Oh! Now I remember. This is the one you said I was wearing in your little fiction you cooked up about how we met, right?"

"Yeah," he smiled softly, scratching at a spot behind his ear. "It's as pretty on you as I, uh… imagined... it would be."

"Thanks," I ducked my head shyly. Luckily I'd had time in the past hour to tape and glue my proverbial stick back together, so I was able to thwack that blush down before it ever really had a chance to even get started. Peering back up at him once more, I couldn't stop a small huff of a laugh in my throat. "Is that what you're wearing? Really?"

"Gotta problem with it?" he shrugged cheekily. He hadn't changed since the kitchen. He was still in his faded band tee, ripped and ragged skinny jeans and steel-toed boots. And yeah, I get it, there was this whole badboy aspect he was going for to keep my parents from thinking they could scare him off. But at the same time, there had to be some sort of compromise, some sort of middle ground where he wasn't also provoking them and possibly making this upcoming conversation worse than it had to be.

Suddenly, he was snapping his fingers. "But wait, you're right! Be right back!" Then he was running off down the corridor back towards the guest room he was staying in. Since it was in the same direction we needed to go anyway for the Indigo Room, I just shook my head as I followed behind more slowly.

He was popping back out of his door just as I caught up. I took one look and wanted to facepalm. "Better?" he asked, smugly flipping up the collar of his leather jacket. "But wait, there's more!" Lifting the jacket up slightly revealed the return of that silly wallet chain hanging from his hip.

Ugh, I should have just kept my mouth shut.

"And the icing on the cake!" he reached inside his jacket and started pulling out the pink, heart-shaped sungla-

"No!" I darted forward, shoving them back into his inside pocket. Crud, these dumb things were becoming the bane of my existence. I pat my palm against where I could feel them on the outside of his jacket, saying sweetly, "Why don't we just keep those tucked away for now, okay?"

"You sure? Just trynta dress to impress!"

"But you're already so very impressive. Too impressive, in fact. My parents might faint from the sheer amount of impressiveness you already are."

"Woah, I'm even more impressive than I thought and that's saying something!" he chuckled. Then with a grin, he bent at the waist into a half-bow and flourished one hand out ahead of us. "Well then, shall we?"

I nodded and we set off down the hall.

We walked along in a companionable silence. Lea seemed to realize I was using this time to mentally prepare myself and bolster my emotional defenses. My mind kept going over it again and again. The exact words I wanted to say to my parents. It'd been something I'd constantly been turning over in the back of my brain ever since Friday evening's dinner. I had a whole little speech prepared. Must have ran through it a million times in the past two days. I had to, otherwise I would just be left stuttering and floundering and drawing a complete blank before my parents. It went a little something like…

Good afternoon, Father and Mother. How are you?

(Good opening. Solid. Cordial. A classic.)

As I'm sure we're all well aware, we're here to discuss the events of my wedding day.

(Straight to the point. Very concise and clear.)

First, please allow me to apologize. I deeply regret any pain and indignity my actions may have caused you or the rest of the family.

(And thus in one fell swoop, I've demonstrated sympathy and understanding, letting them know I acknowledge their feelings, their side of things. Was I killing it with this little speech or what?)

However, please understand that I quite simply could not go through with it. I didn't love him. I wouldn't have been able to make him happy, and he certainly wouldn't have been able to make me happy. It wasn't until I ran away from my old life altogether that I realized I just wasn't happy period. That I hadn't been for some time.

(A simple and straightforward statement of the problem. Plain and direct. Uncomplicated. How could they argue with that?)

I felt smothered. Like I couldn't breathe. I needed my freedom and getting away from everything I'd previously known helped me realize that. Living somewhere new, getting a job, forging out my own path in life… I've been much happier than I have been in a long while. This is what's best for me right now and I hope that with time, you'll come to realize that too.

(And just like that, a ready-to-go solution was presented to the aforementioned problem. The hard work was already done! All my parents had to do was just hear and accept that. Easy, right?)

Thank you for your time and consideration, I now open the floor up for further discussion and questions.

(...okay, maybe that last bit was a tad overly formal and unnecessary, but you get the picture.)

I think that covered all my bases. Sure, it didn't mention Lea at all. But it didn't totally negate the alleged role he'd played either, at least as far as my parents knew. I was hoping to maintain that little fib by just avoiding discussing it with them entirely. And sure, Lea would be present, but he was just going to be there as moral support for me and a deterrent for debate from my parents. Really, the focus of the talk shouldn't be on him anyway. It was supposed to be on me, on my feelings and why I did what I did.

I was able to rehearse my speech in my head a couple more times before we at last turned a corner and I spotted it.

The doorway leading into the Indigo Room.

Ah, there it was. The spike of adrenaline. That constricting of my chest. Right on cue, panic slithered in to encircle my heart, squeezing it, causing cracks in its protective little numb bubble, seeking entry. I gulped but kept walking, my step never faltering. My hand unconsciously found Lea's, causing him to shoot me a glance out of the corner of his eye. Then he smiled as he gave it a warm, tiny squeeze.

This was it.

There was no turning back now.

Just twenty more steps and I'd be through that door and facing whatever awaited me beyond. I screwed my eyes shut, going over my speech for the umpteenth time. These words were really the only things keeping me sane at this point.

Good afternoon, Father and Mother. How are you?

Ten more steps. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

As I'm sure we're all well aware, we're here to discuss the events of my wedding day. First, please allow me to apologize.

Five more. I sucked in a breath and held it.

I deeply regret any pain and indignity my actions may have caused…

Three… two… O-

"Ah! There you are, my boy!"

The sudden, booming, and dare I say even cheerful voice had me stumbling and snapping my eyes open wide. Was that… I could have sworn it sounded like…

...Grandfather?!

He'd just come bursting through the very door we'd been heading for, with Father and the Duke walking out behind him as well. He was holding his arms wide open and had this huge smile on his face and- my god, was that an actual skip in his step?

Who was this man and what had he done with my grandfather?

...on top of that, I was just now discovering that Loud, Smiley Grandfather was way scarier than Quiet, Scowley Grandfather.

The maneuver was swift, calculated and efficient. He clapped his hands down on Lea's shoulders, catching him off guard as he spun him one-eighty, tearing his hand from mine. Then Grandfather was slinging an arm around Lea's shoulders all chummy-like. "Come! Walk with us, lad," he rumbled with laughter, forcing Lea into a staggering march beside him as he led him away. "Have you ever had a 1939 Macallan Scotch? Or a Gurkha Black Dragon cigar? No? Would you like to? How about right now?"

"Er…" still being all but dragged away, Lea glanced back over his shoulder at me uncertainly.

Bewildered myself, I just shrugged before gesturing for him to go along with it.

I feared Lea trying to resist whatever this was might risk poking the bear.

The Duke brushed past me to follow the two of them, posture rigid and face as crotchety as ever. Father was the last to go, gracing me with a brief smile. "Go on in. They're waiting for you," he nodded back towards the Indigo Room. Then off he went with the rest of the menfolk. Watching them go left me absolutely baffled.

What on earth had that been all about?!

I had nothing. Zilch. No plausible explanation whatsoever. Well, none except for-

Oh no.

They were literally about to murder him.

Think about it. It was the only thing that made sense! Why else would-

Wait… "they?"

That's what my father had just said, right? "They're waiting for you inside." His exact words. Who was this they? Shouldn't it just be Mother in there? Either Mother had had a change of pronouns and I was about to have a completely different conversation than I'd been expecting this whole time, or…

...someone else was in there with her.

Anna, perhaps? Yeah, that had to be it. After all, despite whatever her issue with me was currently, she was supposed to be there to have my back through this. And with Lea having just been straight up kidnapped, I'd need Anna's help more than ever. Yeah, that's probably all it was. Just Mother and Anna in there.

Hoping I was just being paranoid a second ago and Lea wasn't actually off somewhere getting assassinated this very moment, I shoved such thoughts to the back of my mind and prepared to go inside. I squared my shoulders, smoothed the nonexistent creases out of my dress, swept my braid-

Fudge, I'd forgotten to braid my hair! It was still up in that crude bun. Oh well, no time to fix it now. Hopefully it wouldn't come across so much as "messy" as just "stylishly disheveled." Regathering what little courage I could muster, I took a deep breath, clenched my hands at my sides and finally, at long last, stepped through that door into the Indigo Room.

It was a sitting room that lived up to its name. Everything was a rich shade of blue-violet from the walls to the carpet to the window curtains to the two couches taking up the middle of the room, facing each other from across the long coffee table between them. Sitting together in one of those sofas were three people. Mother - of course I'd expected her. Aunt Yelena - admittedly a bit more unexpected, but actually wasn't all that shocking. And... Maren? Okay, seeing her here actually did kind of surprise me.

But even more concerning than the people I saw before me now was the one person I wasn't seeing.

Anna.

Where was she?

Mother rose to her feet, a subdued smile on her face as she folded her hands in front of her just below her waist. "Elsa. Thank you for joining us. Please," she bowed her head slightly towards the couch across from her, "have a seat."

Perhaps a better question would be, what the heck was this?

...some kind of intervention? An ambush?

Oh gosh, was that why they'd taken Lea away? Had they just been trying to separate us so they could get me alone? Divide and conquer?

I stood rooted to the spot, not budging an inch. Aunt Yelena, usual stoic expression set firmly in place, said, "Maren dear, perhaps you could assist your cousin."

Maren grimaced, making a soft noise in her throat that was half huff, half growl. Then she stood, making her way over to me to take hold of my elbow, gently guiding me over towards the empty sofa. My feet dazedly followed. "Sorry," she whispered to me. "I didn't want to be here. Grams made me." She shot Yelena a sour look as she nudged me into taking a seat before rejoining the other two on the opposite couch.

Then everything fell silent.

Well... everything, that is, except for the hammering inside of my ribcage and the shallow, raspy breaths through my nose.

Alright, fine. So what if this wasn't exactly how I'd pictured it? So what if instead of my parents, I was facing off with some sort of, I don't know… matriarchy tribunal or whatever? So what if Anna wasn't here?

...why wasn't she here? She was supposed to be here! She was supposed to-

No! Stop it! Be strong! Be brave! You can do this on your own, Elsa. Remember the speech! Just recite those words you know so well by now and everything will turn out alright, you'll see. You got this!

Inhaling slowly through my nose, I began, "Good afternoon, Father and-" Shoot, I'd already screwed it up! Wincing, I stammered, "N-Not Father! Mother! A-And Aunt Yelena and Maren too, of course! Er… h-how are you? As I'm well aware, we're here to discuss my day." I blanched, looking down at my hands as they balled into trembling fists in my lap. "Wedding day! My… my wedding day. First, please apologize. Allow! Allow me to…" Ugh, so much for the speech. Why didn't I think to bring friggin' note cards? "...that is to say, I r-regret any actions my pain and indignity may have- wait! No, I-"

Yelena suddenly cut in with a blunt, "Does that boy have you on drugs?"

"What?!" my head shot up and I gaped at her. "I am most certainly not on-"

"It's okay, child," she held up a placating hand. "You're in a safe place. You can share the truth with us, we won't judge. Please, tell us how that boy has led you astray. Debauchery, intoxication, hedonism-

"Auntie," Mother interrupted her, placing a hand over hers as she shot her a small warning look. Then her full attention was on me again, her tone calm, as if she were speaking with a small child. "Elsa, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I understand. Believe it or not, I was young and impulsive too once. I've known men like Lea. Men who are handsome, who appear mysterious and dangerous and how exciting and… alluring all that can seem. It's just a phase, that's all. He's just a phase. But it's all over and done with now."

...a phase? "No, that's not what-"

"It's done now, Elsa," she repeated more sternly, expression hardening. "You just had to get it out of your system. And now that that little indiscretion is behind us and in the past where it belongs, we can forget all about it and you can get back on the correct course and fulfill your obligations."

"...get back on the…?" I echoed quietly, my brow furrowing. Then my head rocked back, gaze widening. "You don't mean-"

"Yes," Mother's eyes closed with a solemn nod. "Be grateful that your father and I were able to speak with his parents and smooth everything over. The wedding had to be rescheduled of course, but will otherwise proceed as planned."

"You still expect me to marry him?" I asked incredulously. This was absurd! Unreal! I'd even go so far as to say I must be dreaming, that this was literally a nightmare, except I would never be so lucky. I knew without a doubt that I was fully awake, that this was real life, and that this was exactly how my family worked. I shot up to my feet, "No! I'm a full grown adult, you can't just-"

"We can and we will! Sit down, you foolish girl," Yelena snapped dryly. "We are all in agreement here that-"

"We?" Maren grumbled, slouching down further into her seat, propping her temple against her fist as she glared down at the coffee table.

Aunt Yelena narrowed her eyes on her granddaughter. "Yes, we." Her cold gaze then shifted to lock on me once again. "We are all in agreement here that your actions have shown you to be too immature to be making your own decisions and so we must make them for you. You have let that delinquent cloud your judgment and good sense. Tell us, are you even so naive as to think yourself in love? Please, lowlifes like him merely take perverse pleasure in seducing and praying on young, innocent girls and using them until they grow bored and move on."

I'd lowered myself to the couch once more. I wasn't even sure when that'd happened. I didn't remember doing it. "...no, that isn't…" I began, but then stopped with a frown. This was all wrong. This wasn't how this conversation was supposed to be going. It wasn't supposed to be about Lea. He wasn't supposed to be the main topic, just an obstacle. Well, my family had seen him as an obstacle alright - one they simply had to eradicate before everything went back to normal and I did as I was told. Shaking my head, I began again, "He isn't like that, but that's besides the-"

"Oh no?" my aunt quirked a disdainful eyebrow. Then to Mother, she said cooly, "Iduna, if you would please."

A look of unease flitted across Mother's face and she hesitated for a heartbeat. Then her hand was reaching down to her hip for something that'd been tucked away out of sight between her and Yelena. "I found this in your room," she said, eyes downcast as she laid the thing out on the low, hardwood table between us.

It was Lea's spiked choker that he'd left with me.

My fingers squeezed the edge of the couch cushions to either side of my knees. "You were going through my things?" I asked quietly, looking up at Mother. She avoided my gaze and said nothing. I felt a sharp, unpleasant twinge inside my chest.

...was this the real reason she'd come to visit me a couple nights ago? Not because she'd missed me or wanted some time alone with me, but to… snoop? What, to look for something, anything that could be used against me, no matter how small or ridiculous?

"I shudder to think what other horrors we might uncover in a more thorough search of whatever squalor you're using as a poor excuse for living arrangements at the moment," Yelena tsked. "Tell us, what other depraved acts did that boy use to beguile you? Substance abuse, carnality-"

"Oh god, Aunt Yelena, no!" I buried my face in my hands. I take it back… this was, in fact, a nightmare. This was ludicrous. All this fuss over a stupid, cheap piece of goth jewelry. Puffing out a breath, I gestured towards the collar, "That, right there? It's nothing. It was just a joke, okay? It's-"

"The crumbling state of your future is no joking matter, young lady!" she huffed back, for the first time showing a crack in her stone cold mask. "Look at you! I don't even recognize you anymore. Gone is the sophisticated and well-mannered woman we all nurtured and helped you grow into. We're left with nothing but this pathetic, disgraceful shadow of what you once were. Your actions are mindless. Your behavior is deplorable. Your appearance is appalling." My appearance? What on earth was wrong with- oh for the love of… curse you, you cruddy bun! I just knew you'd be my downfall! "There is little doubt in our minds that this is all that degenerate's doing. He's got you all turned around, making questionable decisions and not taking care of yourself. And you let him. Why? Just what do you have to say for yourself?"

It's funny… now that I was at last being given a real chance to speak, I found I could no longer string even two words together. My lips parted, but nothing came out. My throat had closed up, my voice had abandoned me. I glanced to Mother, but she still wouldn't look me in the eye. As for Maren, she just gave me the barest of shrugs and mouthed another silent 'sorry' to me.

My mouth was dry. Blood rushed in my ears. This was all wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Leading my family to believe that Lea was my boyfriend had been a mistake. It hadn't helped, it'd only made things worse. Now I'd been backed into a corner where I'd either have to defend the lie or come clean with the truth, and I didn't see either option turning out particularly well for me. My hands were wringing at the skirt of my dress, mangling and abusing the fabric. The corner of my eyes stung. This should have all been going so differently. Lea should have been here. Anna should have been here. Where-

Suddenly the door to the room crashed open, making all four of us jolt. I twisted around in my seat to see Lea storming in, a dark scowl marring his features. I blinked.

He was angry.

I'd never seen him angry before.

I hadn't even thought a single angry bone existed in his body.

"Come back here, you vulgar, deadbeat hooligan!" the Duke snarled as he too came in, hot on Lea's heels, his mustache swishing in an agitated frenzy. Lea ignored him and kept going.

Grandfather was next to arrive. Gone was the smile from earlier, replaced by pure unadulterated rage as he roared, "We told you to stop! Did you not hear us?! Or are you as deaf as you are brainless?"

"Lea?" I asked as he at last came to a halt next to me, my wide eyes darting back and forth between him and them. "What's going on?"

"Get your things," he ground out through grit teeth, grabbing my hand and pulling me up to my feet. "We're leaving."

"Wha-?" That was all I got out before he was on the move again, tugging me into a stumble after him.

Grandfather and the Duke were still bellowing their outrage, hurling insults that were getting lost in a jumbled torrent of words as the two of them tried to talk over each other. By now, Father had entered the room as well but unlike the other two, he only narrowed his eyes and remained grimly silent.

"Lea," I tried again, my free hand going to his arm as I struggled to keep up with his long, hurried strides, "tell me what happened."

"Oh, I'll tell you what happened alright. What happened is Gramps here," Lea came to an immediate stop in front of the man in question, glaring daggers at him, "tried to pay me off to ditch you and disappear for good."

Both eyebrows shot up my forehead. "...Grandfather, is that true?"

"Of course it is!" Grandfather snapped, jabbing a finger into Lea's chest. "That's all you're looking for, isn't it?!" Another jab. "A nice, plump handout to make you hit the road and stop sullying my granddaughter's honor!" And yet again. "Well, what's the matter, dolt?!" Jab, jab, jab. "What, were you hoping for more munny?! Not enough zeroes for you on that check, hm?!"

Lea's right eye twitched. "Swear to god, Gramps, if you poke me with that fucking finger one more damn time-"

"You mean to tell me you didn't take the munny?" a new voice, slow and dubious, interjected into the conversation. We all turned to see that Aunt Yelena had left the couch to join us, squinting at Lea with a skeptical frown.

"Shit no! What's wrong, you buncha geezers, hearing aids on the fritz? How many times do I have to fucking say it?! I don't want a damn cent of your stupid, stinking munny. Next person to ask will hear me telling 'em just exactly where they can take their munny and shove it! C'mon El, let's go already!" And he was off again, charging out the door and taking me with him.

I had to hand it to Lea. The tension in his shoulders, the flaring of his nostrils, the flash to his green eyes… he certainly had the whole offended boyfriend act down pat. He'd almost even had me fooled for a second there, but clearly it was all just for show. I mean... pretty sure it was, anyway. It's not like he'd actually-

Thud!

That was the sound of me faceplanting into Lea's back as he came to an abrupt and unexpected stop just as we exited into the hallway. Ow. With a tiny wince, I looked past him to see what the roadblock was only to discover we'd almost had a head-on collision with-

"Anna?" I gasped softly. "Where have you-" The words died on my tongue.

She was shifting her weight from one foot to the other as a small, nervous smile flashed across her face. But that's not what I was looking at. No, what I was looking at was her shoulders. More specifically, at the arm wrapped around her shoulders. More, more specifically, at the person attached to the arm wrapped around her shoulders.

My eyebrows knit together. "...Hans?"

Hans Westergaard. That's right, those Westergaards. As in the owners of the multi-billion dollar corporation Southern Isles Exports. As in long time business partners and allies of the Fryse family stretching back generations upon generations. As in this was their son before me, right here, right now. As in a boy I'd known since I was a child and had grown up with into teenagers. As in the teenager I'd began dating in highschool and started calling boyfriend. As in the boyfriend who'd proposed and became my fiancé. As in the fiancé who I'd left at the altar.

...as in my now ex-fiancé who currently had his arm wrapped around my little sister's shoulders.

I don't know how long I just stood there, staring and not blinking. It felt like an eternity, like time was standing still. But in reality, it was probably only a second, maybe two before I heard myself asking, "...what is this?"

Hans visibly stiffened, awkwardly removing his hand from Anna. His fingers scratched against one auburn sideburn at his temple as he muttered to her, "You... haven't told her yet?"

"Told me what?"

I knew. Deep down inside, I knew. It was so painfully obvious now, how could I not? But still, I needed to hear Anna say it.

"Told you that…" she stretched the last word out before trailing off, gnawing on her bottom lip as she poked the tips of her index fingers together and her eyes darted frantically about. Finally, in a voice so tiny I almost couldn't hear it, she blurted out, "Hans is my new boyfriend?"

Annnnd there it was.

...wait, was this what she'd been freaking out about all weekend? It was, wasn't it? Oh gosh, it all made so much sense now! Why she always seemed to change the subject whenever I'd asked her about the new guy she was seeing, why she kept clamming up whenever I'd approached her, why she ran away practically every time I'd so much as uttered a single word to her. It wasn't anything I'd done, she was the one who felt like she'd-

...hang on, back up a second. Rewind to the conversation I'd just been having in the Indigo Room. Hadn't Mother said… I could have sworn… Had I misunderstood? No… no, I don't think so…

Pretty sure it had been stated in no uncertain terms that I was still expected to marry Hans.

But that didn't make any sense! Not unless-

I looked at her sharply. "His parents don't know. Father and Mother don't either."

"We don't what?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Mother's voice. I'd forgotten about her. Really, I'd forgotten about everyone else. Mother, Father, the rest of my family, even Lea who's hand I was still holding… every last one of them, completely wiped from my brain. For a moment there, all I'd been aware of was my sister, my ex-fiancé, and me. Now the rest of them were crowding out the door behind Lea and me, many still with scowls twisting their faces. Mother's expression, on the other hand, was that of surprise as she spotted who was standing next to Anna. "Hans? We didn't know you were coming by today. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

As Hans gave a weak smile and struggled for some sort of polite response, Anna piped up with, "Could everyone excuse Elsa and me real quick? We'll just be a sec, promise!" She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me several steps away, leaving Hans looking rather distraught at being left to fend for himself before our family.

Well… our family and Lea, but I doubt Hans was going to be getting much assistance from that corner.

Once Anna and I were far enough away where a hushed conversation would not be overheard, she snatched my shoulders and whispered hastily, "Sis! I was gonna tell you, I swear! Mom and Dad too. But it just… it never seemed like the right time, ya know? I-"

"How long?" I cut her off, my voice flat.

Her forehead wrinkled. "...how long…?"

"How long have you and Hans been…" I looked away, my nose scrunching up slightly.

"Oh! After you two broke up, definitely, definitely after!" she insisted with several firm nods. Then her face blanched, "You weren't thinking that...that he and I would've... before you and he... No! No, we'd never do that to you! Not ever! Not in one billion, trillion years! Never, ever, ever, ever-"

"How long after we broke up?" I pressed, meeting her eyes now with a frown.

Here she grimaced, sucking in a breath through her teeth and turning her head away as she rubbed her elbow. "...the day after?"

...okay, I didn't mind the fact that Hans had moved on. It was actually almost kind of shocking how little I cared. I guess it was just further confirmation that I'd made the right decision by not going through with the wedding. Besides, how hypocritical of me would it be if I did care? Here I was, crushing on Lea for crying out loud! But that's all it was - a crush. And at least in my case, it'd taken several weeks to develop.

Hans had waited a day to move on. And he hadn't moved on with just anyone, he'd moved on with my sister. And since then, the two of them had probably been… doing things, ugh! To think, the guy I'd been engaged to for a year, doing god only knows what with my baby sister less than twenty-four hours after I'd-

...well, to be fair… he probably knew the "Lea and me" story by now, so he'd probably thought I'd been cheating on him for months now...

...then again, Hans didn't know about "Lea and me" the day after I broke it off. Heck, I didn't know about "Lea and me" the day after I broke it off! I didn't even actually know Lea then! So it's not even like Hans had had the moral high ground when he'd… when he and Anna had…

"-not like we meant for it to happen, it just sorta, ya know… happened!" Apparently, Anna was mid-babble as I tuned back into whatever she was saying. "I mean, I always thought his eyes were kinda dreamy, but he was your fiancé so I was all, woah there girl, hands off, no touchy, big friggin' no-no there! But then, all of a sudden, he wasn't your fiancé, and well… I was there, and he was there, and we just… happened!"

...there was something…

"And I wanted to tell you, oh my gawd, you have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you! I didn't want either of our parents to find out before you did, I wanted you to be the first to know and for you to hear it from me! But we just kept putting it off and off and off-"

...something… something my subconscious was trying to tell me right now…

"-and off until finally! This weekend! I said it's now or never, damn it! It was going to be Friday night, I was going to have him over for dinner with Mom and Dad at the same time you brought over Lea! But then I just… dunno, I chickened out and told him to stay away!"

...scratching, picking at the back of my mind…

"So then I said Saturday! Definitely Saturday! At Grandfather's birthday party! Think of it, it would have been perfect, like… like our grand debut! But then I friggin' wimped out again! I was just really scared how you might react… I didn't want to see you hurt or…"

...god, what was it? I almost had it, it was literally on the tip of my-

"But finally, I said you know what? I just gotta rip off that stupid bandaid! Today! It had to be today! That's why I brought Hans here, now, so we could finally just-"

"Why today?" I asked abruptly.

She blinked once, then twice. "...what?"

I fixed her with a hard stare. "Why did it have to be today? Why this weekend? Why… when Lea was here?"

She froze, eyes growing round. Then she was tugging at one of her pigtail braids, looking anywhere but at me. "I don't know what you-"

"This is why you convinced me to trick Father and Mother into believing I was dating Lea." My frown deepened. She flinched and said nothing. I was breathing heavily through my nose now as my chest burned. "It is, isn't it? You knew our parents wouldn't have approved of you two. That they still wanted me, as the eldest, to marry Hans. So you thought that... that if I showed up on their doorstep with a boyfriend who was their worst nightmare, that it would somehow… what, make you and Hans not look as bad? Lessen the blow? That Mother and Father would use up all their freaking out on me and have none left over for you?"

She gave a small "...no?" with a half-hearted shrug. My eyelids drooped. Then she sighed, "Okay, maybe a little bit… but that was just a small part of it! The smallest part! A teensy-weensy, itty-bitty smidge of it, I swear! The main, big reason I suggested the Lea plan was because I really thought it would help you! That it would be just the boost you needed to stand up to Mom and Dad and get you through this big talk with them and-" Anna's words drowned in sharp gasp. "Frick, the talk!" Her eyes drifted back over to where the rest of our family was still gathered. You could see her putting two and two together, could all but hear the gears beginning to turn in her mind. "...was that happening right now? I didn't miss it, did I?"

That was it.

Right there.

The last straw, apparently.

I was done. So done. Done with the lies, the expectations, the not getting any sleep, the panic, the stress, the fear, all of it… I just let it all go. I don't know how. I'd never been able to before. It had always seemed impossible, but now it was so simple, so easy. All of it, just gone with a tiny snap inside my brain. In its place, an almost eerie peace had settled over my heart. I knew what to do now. It was so clear, so obvious. I turned away from Anna and started to walk calmly back towards the others.

"Sis?" I heard Anna whisper after me, but I just kept going. "...Elsa? What are you-"

"Father. Mother," I came to a stop in front of them, pulling their attention away from whatever discussion they were in with the rest of the group. All eyes turned to me now. I could sense it in all of their looks - the curiosity from my parents, the thinly-worn patience of my aunt, the simmering fury coming off both Grandfather and the Duke in waves. Normally all of it would be enough to break me, but not this time. Instead, I just let it all wash harmlessly over me. I could feel Lea at my side and I took what little comfort I could from that. Then I drew in a long, deep breath and began.

"Lea and I aren't dating. We never were." I stated it simply, as if I were merely discussing the weather. Mother's and Father's gazes widened in shock while low grumbles and murmurs passed amongst my other relatives. I went on, "I didn't even meet him until after I ran away from my wedding. He's just a friend, one who was willing to go along with a ridiculous and what I can see now was quite honestly pointless plan.

"I didn't run away because of him, he had nothing to do with it. I ran away because of me. I did it for me. I wasn't happy. I didn't want it… not the wedding, not the life you'd laid out for me, not the future you'd so carefully planned, none of it. I needed to be on my own, I needed the freedom and space to make my own decisions and to be me, to decide what I wanted and what was best for me. It's my life. I get to decide how I want to live it and none of you get a say in it. Period." I stood a little taller now, hitching my chin and narrowing my eyes, "And if you don't like it, well then that's too bad."

A hush fell all around us. My parents' brows were furrowed as they exchanged glances. Father was the first to speak, "Elsa, perhaps we should take a seat somewhere and talk about th-"

"How dare you, you ungrateful girl?!" Grandfather suddenly erupted in a snarl, face a dark, blotchy red as he stomped forward. "I will not stand for such insolence in my presence! No granddaughter of mine is allowed to speak to us in such a manner ever, you hear me?"

My eyelashes twitched. An almost imperceptible wince. The only reaction I gave to his outburst. My gaze then shifted from him back over to my parents. Whether or not they were in agreement with Grandfather's statement, they kept it to themselves, remaining mute on the subject with small grimaces. Locking my eyes on Grandfather once more, I said evenly, "Very well then. I guess that makes me no granddaughter of yours."

I started to turn to leave, but then paused. Looking back to my parents one final time, I tacked on, "Oh, and the next time you try to marry me off to someone, you might want to make sure he's not in another relationship already."

Both their postures snapped straight at that. "Hans?" Mother asked, turning her focus on him now. "What does she mean by that?"

"I, uh…" he laughed feebly, sidestepping in a poor attempt to hide behind Anna. As for her, she just gaped at me as I turned my back on them all and walked away. I could see Maren out of my peripheral, her jaw slack as well, but with a smile tugging up at the corners of her lips as she brought her hands together in a slow, silent clap.

"You stop right there, young lady!" Grandfather was shouting after me, but I did not stop. "You will do as you're told or so help me, that's it for you! Step one foot outside this house and you're cut off! Disowned! We'll have nothing more to do you with, you hear me?! Nothing!"

Still, I kept walking. I could hear a single pair of footsteps behind me. Once they caught up to walk along beside me, I glanced over, knowing I'd be greeted by Lea's grinning face. I told him, "You can put them on now."

He cocked his head at my words. But then it clicked, and his grin stretched wider. "You sure?"

"Positive," I said flatly, staring straight ahead once more. I could still hear Grandfather yelling his tantrum after me back there. "Go nuts."

"Oh hell yeah!" He reached inside his leather jacket, whipping out the heart-shades and slipping them onto his nose. Then he spun into an about-face, striding along backwards next to me now. "Suck it, bitches!" he crowed back at them all, throwing his hands up to flip the double bird as we turned to disappear around a corner.

That's right.

Suck it, bitches.

Author's Note: So THAT's why Anna's been acting all squirrelly! How 'bout it ya'll, didja see it coming from a mile away? xD Hopefully I surprised at least one or two of you with that lil twist xP And oh gosh, when it rains, it friggin' POURS! So much being thrown at Elsa all at once xD Hope the drama turned out okay! As you've read through 27 chapters of my writing by now (at least! I'm sure there's those of you who've read my other stuff too tho xP), you've probably gathered by now that I'm more about the sass, humor, and mindless fluff and less about… *gestures towards last half of above chapter* THIS. But I did the best I could and that's all anyone can ask for! Also… those damn heart-shaped sunglasses, I swear xD They were just supposed to be a one time throw away gag for the yacht chapter, but apparently my Lea muse liked them so much that he kept finding an excuse to bring them back every damn chance he got! It wasn't supposed to be a running gag, it really wasn't! But hot damn, if the Fire Boi wouldn't look good in those puppies xD

So, it's official… Elsa is finally done with all of it. Done with the lies, done with the family BS, all of it. Next time, what's she gonna do now that she's finally at long last well and truly free? So many possibilities! Where will she go? What will she do? Will she and Anna ever be able to patch things up between them? What's next for her and Lea now that their lil fake dating scheme is kaput? DOES that sheep counting thing ACTUALLY work for anyone? I mean, seriously?! Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

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adhdeancas · 4 years

Text

Sunset Sound: Gallows Pole

In the midst of the Lawboy shitposting, a Sam-centric chapter to see what he got up to after Dean went to hell. Special thanks to my bro @friedchickenangelwings for keeping me in check forever and always, I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.

Sam sobs. He can’t help it; he can’t do anything else. His big brother’s body is impaled on the post in front of him, the ground is littered with beheaded bodies, and two little boys are crying outside somewhere in the dark. And he can’t stop crying.

“It’s not okay. It’s not!”

He tries to take back those words that had made his brother leave, but Dean's chest doesn’t shudder back into life, and it won’t. It hangs there, heavy and lifeless, and it always will. Dean is dead.

And for what?

When Sam’s head starts to pound from the tears, he finally takes breaths to calm himself. Common sense floods back into his head and overtakes his grief, and he pulls Dean’s body off the stupid rusty nail that killed him. He lowers him to the ground and closes his eyes, because he can’t bear to look at his dead stare any longer.

He doesn’t want to leave the barn. He knows he has to, but he doesn’t want to leave his brother there all alone. That’s what Dean had always been most afraid of: being alone. He stands frozen to the spot for more minutes than he should, trying to reason with his grief. Finally, finally, he wins, and he turns around to see his breath in the air before him. Sam immediately gasps, another desperate sob coming from nowhere, because the night isn’t cold enough for that.

“Dean?” He screams it. “Dean!” It’s gotta be him, Dean’s a ghost, Dean’s here, Dean’s trying to talk to him. “Dean!”

“No, I’m sorry, Sam.” Kevin Tran flickers to form in front of him, pity and sadness in his eyes. “But Dean’s okay.”

Sam rubs his eyes. He thinks for a second he’s hallucinating again, that losing Dean for real broke down all the sanity he’d built over the years. “K-Kevin?” Though he didn’t know it was possible, his stomach takes yet another plunge, like a boulder has just been dropped on him. Kevin’s incorporeal form shakes into being the thought once more that he did that, his hands killed Kevin, he’s the reason Kevin is a ghost. He’s in a room with the corpse and untethered soul of two people he loves and two people he watched die.

As if sensing all the ways Sam is shaking apart, Kevin nods and starts to reach out before realizing it would be no use. “Yeah, Sam, it’s me.”

“But- w-w why?” Sam curses his voice for failing him, curses the shaking that sobbing left him with, curses it because he needs to be strong now. For Dean. “Why didn’t you help us?” A ghost would’ve been a great thing to have in a fight! A ghost could probably, I don’t know, push Dean away from a deadly-sharp hook on the wall? If Kevin has been here, why- “Is Dean in the veil? Can he hear me? Dean!”

Kevin throws a gust of air in his face to get his attention, and it hits Sam like a slap. He looks back at the ghost, wideyed. Kevin looks apologetic. “I don’t have a lot of time, but you need to calm down. Seriously.”

“I can’t calm down-”

“No, Sam, you need to calm down.” Kevin looks upward nervously, as if he’s expecting to see some big figure raise the roof of the barnhouse up and peek down at them. “I’ll explain, but first thing you need to know is: Dean’s dead. He’s in heaven, and he’s in trouble.”

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

Sam drives the Impala at exactly the speed limit, eyes dried to the point of aching. Dean’s wrapped body is sprawled out in the back seat, and if Sam just glances in the rearview mirror he can almost pretend he’s just passed out. Just had one too many shots of Cuervo and conked out so his little brother can drive. Sure. Whatever gets you through the night.

Dropping off the kids was easy. Traumatized kids don’t say much, don’t ask too many questions, and they’ll forget the shellshocked stranger that saved them soon enough. Either that or he will haunt their nightmares, but Sam can’t help that. He can’t help anyone at this point, covered in dirt and blood and exhausted. He drives out to the middle of the forest anyway, Kevin’s words on a loop in his head.

“You have to be normal. Chuck can’t want to watch you at all. So just play into his game. Pretend to only care about Dean, get out of the life, settle down.”

Sam had frowned, Eileen instantly springing to his mind. Surely he can care about her, right? “But-”

“No, Sam, I’m sorry. Dean told me to tell you that Eileen… it’s just too dangerous. He likes you two. He’s gotta hate your life so much he doesn’t want to see it. It’s gotta bore him.”

So Sam burns his brother's body in a forest alone, with only Miracle for company. There’s a dagger in his chest that tells him he’s betraying everyone he cares about, including Dean. Dean wanted a big funeral. He wanted his whole family there, not just his brother and a dog. And Eileen. There are three unread texts and a missed video call from Eileen already. Apparently Kevin hadn’t visited her yet. To let her know.

It doesn’t take Sam long to leave the bunker. It just feels like a punch to the gut at this point. That table over there, carved with their family’s names, that’s where he and Dean swore they’d be free. They swore they’d get everything they wanted and everything they deserved. And now Sam has one pillow on his bed and an empty bunker full of the possessions of dead people.

He knows there is a plan. He knows that. And it should comfort him, but it doesn’t, because he still has to live his long, boring, lonely life without the woman he loves or the family he misses or the brother he mourns. Time on Earth is torturously slow.

The small things make the ache in his heart just a little lighter. He finds a job he likes, teaching history and the classics to teenagers. He remembers his old English teacher, and he tries to be that to kids that need it, kids that remind him of Claire or Jack. He gets to see Jody and the girls once every few years, a risk that he knows is worth it because it keeps him going. He can’t see Eileen. It would hurt too much. They both agreed the one time they called. He keeps learning ASL anyway, and he tells the story of him and Eileen meeting (slightly modified) to the kids in his class.

He finds a wife. It was one of the things he put off, but after three years he knows he has to get on with it or he’ll get depressed. He needs someone, even if she is boring and too-nice and entirely too gullible. She’s nice and he’s good to her, but he can’t love her because she’s not real. Not in the way that Eileen is. She might as well be a blurred out mother figure action doll, for all she knows. And he hates himself for marrying her, when she deserves someone who finds her boringness interesting, but he knows this is what Chuck expects. He expects Sam to marry a nice woman and have a kid named Dean and grow old always hurting for the old times. Oh, and Sam does.

He’d rather be back in the pit with Lucifer than this domestic djinn dream, but he reminds himself every day that someday they’re going to get rid of Chuck and then he’ll be able to live. Dean too. Cas too. And Jack. Sam’s going to kill that son of a bitch if it’s the last thing he does, living or dead. And it looks like it’ll be dead.

His fiftieth birthday has come and gone when Kevin finally comes back. The lights in Sam’s classroom flicker and go out, and then Kevin is there, chest heaving. He runs to the chalkboard and picks up a piece of chalk, and Sam’s talking as he writes.

“Kevin, how’s Dean? Any updates on what’s happening in heaven? Is Chu-Jack okay?”

Kevin turns around, irritated, until he sees the look on Sam’s face. “Yeah, listen, everything is… fine. We’re working on it. Look, the important thing is that you get these ingredients-” he points to the chalkboard, “and perform the spell. But listen, it’s gotta be next week. Friday. There’s a full moon, it’s… you gotta make it happen.”

Sam’s eyes bulge. “Friday? Kevin, what the hell, a little notice would be nice! How am I supposed to get-” he looks past him to the hastily written ingredients. “These ingredients are insane! It’lll take me weeks just to fly around the fucking world to grab them!”

Kevin throws his hands up, looking almost as stressed as Sam. “Listen, man, we’re doing our best up there! Time is fucked up and we’re trying to be sneaky and it is a lot of pressure!” he finally takes a deep breath, which seems to help. “I’m sorry, I know it’s too much to ask, but we have no choice. Call a witch friend for the ingredients, summon Rowena and let her in on the plan. It’s Friday or never.”

He flickers out before Sam can even reply. Apparently the stress and talking like that took too much out of him. Sam’s left alone to say “Sorry,” to an empty classroom. He sits down heavily at his desk and runs a hand through his graying hair.

He copies down the ingredients and the spell and it’s then that he knows he definitely needs help. Luckily, he knows who to call.

The phone rings so long Sam thinks about hanging up, but he picks up just before he can. “Sam!” Max sounds winded, and the first thought that enters Sam’s head is not appropriate for the occasion.

“Hey Max, you got a second? You’re not…” busy? Jesus, Sam is blushing.

Max laughs. “Nah, you’re good, man. What’s up?”

God, to speak to someone who understands his life again. To really get to talk to them. “Uh, it’s kinda not the kind of thing to talk about over the phone. Can I drive to you?”

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

“Hey, Rowena,”

Sam’s natural state is apparently social awkwardness now. Dean would say that had always been true… No, not the time to get sidetracked with that sad shit. He shuffles his feet again and adjusts a candle, waiting for Rowena to appear. He’s fifty fucking years old. He’s fine.

“Hello, dearie.”

Sam grins at her, but is once again met with the sad eyes Kevin always gives him. “Fuck, can everybody stop with the dead brother horrible life shit?” She doesn’t look taken aback, no that’s not Rowena. She looks more like a school principal that just got told off by an 8th grader, surprised and a little offended. Sam softens a little bit. “Sorry, I just- listen, I get it, okay? My life is fucked up and it’s all a lie to beat God, I know. Can we move past that and get back to the saving the world stuff?”

A slow smile spreads across Rowena’s face, and she pats him on the cheek. “There she is. Hello, Samuel.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Hi Rowena, how are you?”

“Oh, just dandy. Tamped down a few ne’er-do-wells, not a problem. Being worshipped every day is hard work, but I manage, somehow.”

“I’m sure. ‘Jack’ giving you any trouble?”

She waves a dismissive hand. “I’ve barely seen the boy since he took over. Apparently he’s much more interested in watching his little short films in heaven than anything down below…” Sam’s got a question on his lips but she waves that away too. Too little time to explain the intricacies of eternal family drama that heaven is currently. “It doesn’t matter. I have free reign, which means I can pop in for our little soirees.”

Sam nods, grateful that that’s true at least. He hands her the list of ingredients and the spell and watches as she studies it. “Problem?”

“Hm. No, I can do that.” She looks up brightly at him. “I’m the greatest witch of all time, Samuel. I’m more worried about how you will accomplish it.” She looks down at his summoning ritual and bends down to correct a chalk mark with her finger. “You’re a wee bit rusty.”

Sam scoffs. He’s missed this. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I called up my friend Max, Max Banes. He’s going to help me out.”

“Max Banes? Hm.” For a second, Sam thought he saw something flash across Rowena’s face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs it off. “I’ve heard of the witch, that’s all. He’ll be good help for you, I’m sure. Now, Samuel, if you’ll excuse me… Underworlds to run and all that.” She steps away, but Sam stops her before she can disappear again.

“Wait!” He hugs her tightly. She only resists for a moment before she returns the hug, a light tap on his shoulder. “Thank you, Rowena.”

“Of course, Samuel. Until next time.”

She’s gone with a puff of smoke and Sam is left hugging air.

tag list (ask to be added or removed):

Tag list: @dochunterwitch @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat @alienapparatus @damian-janus-pendragon

#sunset sound #chapter 7 #gallows pole #destiel #deancas #fanfic #my writing #sam winchester #15x20 #fix it fic #rowena #max banes #kevin tran

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440mxs-wife · 4 years

Text

In the City

Supernatural meets Law and Order, Part Two

You climbed back into Briscoe and Logan's cruiser and headed to the crime scene. This time, it wasn't the park, but a neighbor's backyard that had the familiar yellow tape around it. The three of you walked up to Scott Rivers, the on-scene tech to get the facts of the case as he knew them.

"What's the story here?" Briscoe asked.

"Same as before, claw marks, heart torn out and looks like the body was dragged here from actual kill site," Rivers answered as he looked you up and down. "And who might you be?" he asked appreciatively.

"Mackenzie Reed, I'm a consultant hired to work on this case," you murmured as you walked around the scene. This was looking less and less like a werewolf attack to you, and more like something else, especially given the time of day. "Dammit. This is not good. Not good at all," you muttered.

You walked over to where Briscoe and Logan were standing with the tech, Rivers. "I think I've seen all I need to see, fellas. The rest can wait until we get the M.E.'s report," you declared. You got into the cruiser's back seat and Logan drove back to the station. Lennie bid you and Logan a good night and said he'd see you both in the morning.

"So, where are you staying?" Logan asked as you switched to the front seat.

"I was going to find some motel and hole up there till Sam and Dean got into town," you answered.

"Nah, don't do that. You can stay at my place," Logan offered.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Mike. I have a boyfriend, you know. I really don't think he'd be too keen on me spending the night in my ex-boyfriend's apartment," you explained.

"He knows we're still friends, right?" Logan asked.

"Yes," you responded.

"He trusts you, right?" Logan persisted.

"Me? Yes. You? Big fat negatory, Ghost Rider," you replied.

Logan chuckled. "Come on. I promise nothing will happen. We'll order some Chinese food from that place you love, we'll swap war stories, then we'll go to sleep. In separate beds," he added.

"Fine. You in your room, me on the couch," you declared.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

An hour later, you and Logan had arrived at his apartment. You dug out your pajamas and your toiletries, then asked if you could borrow a towel for a shower. He agreed, and asked what you wanted for dinner. After you gave him your order, you stepped into the shower to wash off the grime from traveling and the crime scene.

While you were changing, Logan called out to tell you that he was going down to the corner store. He wanted to get some beverages and snacks for later, so you told him what you wanted. Even though deep down, you suspected he already knew, given that you had dated for three years.

You stepped out of the bathroom, fully refreshed and dirty clothes packed back into your luggage. Your phone rang and the Caller ID said it was Dean. "Hey, baby, I was just thinking about you. Where are you?" you wondered.

"Pennsylvania. We'll be there tomorrow afternoon, like I thought. Did you find a nearby motel you could stay at?" he asked. "Kenzie?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "No, Logan offered to let me stay in his apartment. I'm sleeping on the couch, though," you added quickly. You squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself for the firestorm.

"Kenzie, if he tries anything...." Dean started.

"He won't. Because he knows he's in deep trouble if he does. He knows I'm capable of kicking his ass and won't hesitate to do so if it comes to that. Which it won't," you mentioned. "I promise you, Dean. Logan and I are just friends. When you and Sam get here, we'll go to a motel. One room for Sam, and one room to have all to ourselves," you said in a sultry voice.

"You promise?" Dean asked.

"Of course, my love. I even remembered to bring my 'special jammies', just for you. For tonight, though, I'll have to settle for cuddling with an extra pillow that I'll pretend is you," you chuckled. Turning more serious, you continued. "I love you, and nothing is ever going to change that. I told the LT that you are my world. And I meant it, Dean," you finished softly.

"Ah, Kenzie, I love you so much," Dean whispered.

"I know, Dean. I love you too. Can't wait to hear you roll up in your badass car and step out in your leather jacket. You'll impress the hell out of Mike's partner, Lennie, I'll just bet," you grinned as Logan walked back through the door. "Anyway, Logan's back with some food, so I'll talk to you later. See you soon, baby. Sweet dreams," you replied.

"Sweet dreams of you, Kenzie my love," Dean responded then disconnected the call. You stared down at your phone, a loving smile on your face as you thought of Dean.

"Was that 'Loverboy' on the phone?" Logan smirked.

"Yes, that was Dean. And just so you know? He likes you about as much as you like him," you retorted.

"Oh, good, and here I was afraid we wouldn't get along," he responded sarcastically.

"Logan, can we please not do this tonight? Let's just catch up, swap some stories, then get some sleep, okay?" you asked.

Logan sighed deeply before answering. "Okay fine, you win. Eat some food, tell some stories, then hit the rack. Right?" he answered.

You took a step closer and walked your fingers up his chest. "And uh, Mike? If you, um, try anything?" you said in a husky voice. He nodded, then you grabbed his argyle tie and pulled him down so you were nose to nose. "I won't hesitate to kick your ass. I fight vampires and werewolves and all kinds of other creatures for a living. You know I can do it," you growled then released him.

He loosened his tie enough to slip it off over his head. "I suppose now is a bad time to tell you how turned on I am, right?" he asked. Over your shoulder, you flipped him the bird as you took a seat on the couch. Logan chuckled and shook his head.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

True to your word, after you had finished dinner, you and Logan decided to swap some war stories. You told him about some of the close calls you had and he told you about losing his partner, Max Greevy. You expressed your condolences and mentioned some of the people you had lost along the way as well. Charlie, Bobby, Ellen and Jo. Then you regaled him with the story about the hunt at Plucky Pennywhistle's, where Sam was attacked by clowns. You assured him that it would make a lot more sense when he saw Sam in person. The big, tall moose of a man who was scared of clowns.

After the laughter between you died down, Mike looked at you and said, "Aw, Kenz, it's been way too long. I'm having a great time, talking with you like this. I've missed you," he admitted.

"I'm having a great time too, Mike. You've had my number saved in your phone after all these years. Why haven't you called before now?" you asked.

Logan paused before answering. "I dunno. I guess I kept waiting for you to come back here, back to me. We had something, Kenzie. You can't deny that," he replied.

"I know, Logan, but the key word is, 'had'. I'm with Dean now, and he's....he's it for me, Mike. I love him to the moon and back. He knows when I'm upset but trying to hide it, and he doesn't let me get away with it. He helps me through the nightmares. Dean has seen me at my worst, and he still loves me. For him I would die, and I nearly have. More than a few times. He's everything to me, and looks at me in return as if I'm everything to him," you finished softly.

"As long as you're happy, Kenzie. I hope I'm lucky enough someday to find someone like you again," Logan remarked. "Don't worry, I'm not going to come between you two. I'd like us to still be friends, though," he said with hope.

You sniffled and then smiled at him. "Deal. Now, no more chick-flick moments," you grinned.

"Right! You thirsty? Want something else to drink?" Logan asked as he rose from his chair.

"Nah, I'm good. I think it's time for me to go to sleep, though. It's been a long day," you replied. Logan agreed, and got out some extra pillows and blankets for you. "Thank you, Mike. I appreciate you letting me stay here tonight. For the record, I'm glad you called and asked for our help. Don't be such a stranger though. Call me once in a while, okay? Goodnight, Mike," you said as you gave him a hug.

"Goodnight, Kenz," Logan returned. Still love you, he silently added.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On the way to the precinct, you and Logan stopped for a bagel and coffee. "Man, I forgot how good the food is here in New York," you said as you sipped your coffee. "The pizza alone is almost worth moving back here for. Almost," you added.

You spent the morning reviewing Briscoe and Logan's case notes and the M.E.'s reports from both crime scenes. Around lunch time, you got a call from Sam, saying they were only a few blocks away, according to his phone's GPS. You leapt out of your chair and headed downstairs to meet them, with Briscoe, Logan and Lt. VanBuren behind you.

Just as the Impala was pulling into a parking space in front of the building, you burst through the doors. You were so excited that you nearly tripped down the stone steps. Dean was out of the car almost before the engine shut off and ran towards you.

With a huge smile on your face, you jumped into his arms as soon as he reached you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and your hands cradled his face. Dean had one hand on your thigh and the other on your back, supporting you. Your mouths had crashed together in a long, passionate kiss. When you broke apart, both you and Dean were grinning at each other, overjoyed to no longer be apart. He brushed your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. "Missed you, Kenzie baby," he remarked softly. "Missed you too, my love," you whispered.

Dean released his hold on you and lowered your feet to the ground, but held fast to your hand. You both turned to the two detectives and their lieutenant, who were grinning at the display they just witnessed.

"Hey, what am I, chopped liver?" a voice from the Impala's passenger side boomed out in fake annoyance.

"Sam!!" You exclaimed as you ran over to hug the younger Winchester. "Hiya, Kenz. Great to see you, glad to finally be here," Sam chuckled. You hooked your arm with Sam and pulled him over to where Dean was left standing. You took Dean's hand in yours once again and intertwined your fingers.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Sam and Dean Winchester. Boys, these are Detectives Lennie Briscoe and Michael Logan, and their boss, Lt. Anita VanBuren," you stated. Everyone exchanged handshakes and pleasantries, then you all went inside.

Once you got back upstairs, you suggested meeting in one of the interview rooms. Sam and Dean followed Briscoe and Logan to the room. Lt. VanBuren got right next to you and held you back a bit by your arm. "Girl, you didn't tell me he was even better looking in person! Mmm! I'll say it again, your man is FINE!" she declared, as you chuckled.

Inside the interview room, you signaled to Logan to disconnect the cameras, and you locked the doors. "What we're about to tell you doesn't leave this room. The fewer people that know, the better. Logan already knows some of it, from when he and I were together," you said as you took Dean's hand in yours.

"From the information on the first crime scene, the M.E.'s reports and yesterday's discovery, I think what we're dealing with is a skinwalker," you announced. Dean looked at you in surprise, and you nodded.

"A skinwalker? What the hell is that?" Briscoe asked.

"A skinwalker is a cousin to a werewolf, so canine in origin. Which is why that's what I thought it was at first," you started. "The claw marks, the hearts missing, that usually points to a werewolf," you remarked.

"What made you change your mind, Kenz?" Dean asked.

"It was yesterday's crime scene. The first one was at night, in the park. Yesterday, we were called to a neighborhood, a backyard. And it was late evening, but not after midnight. More of a domestic setting, too," you emphasized. Dean looked down at his shoes and nodded, because he agreed with your assessment. That meant you'd have to change your strategy for tracking, fighting and killing the thing.

"Is all this stuff for real? I mean, I thought werewolves and such were just campfire stories meant to scare people," Briscoe interjected.

"Nope, Lennie, it's all real. When Kenzie left here to go home to Kansas, she said that her folks had been killed by vampires," Logan explained. "At first, I thought it was just some elaborate excuse to break up with me, but then she showed me her journal. All full of notes about this kind of stuff. What the thing is, where it lives, its weaknesses and more importantly, how to kill it," Logan finished. He gave you a quick smile to show you his support.

"What's unique about a skinwalker, is that it can change into a dog at any given moment. That alone is going to make things much more difficult, as far as tracking it down and killing it," Sam mentioned.

"In a city this size, with as many dogs as there are about? We're going to have to keep an eye on the parks and neighborhoods at night. Most likely for strays, or ones with tags but that are out wandering by themselves," you finished.

"Gee, and here I thought this was going to be difficult," Lennie muttered.

"So, how do we kill it, if we're lucky to find one?" Lt. VanBuren asked.

"Silver, through the heart," Dean answered.

"We still have some of those silver bullets, Dean?" you asked him.

He nodded. "Think so, Kenz," he replied. "We've got some you can just load right into a clip for your 9mm. But is there a garage or something I can pull into? I don't exactly want to do this out on the street," Dean explained.

Logan walked out to the Impala with Dean to show him where to park. Once they got into the parking space, Dean opened the trunk's secret compartment to get out the silver bullets. When Mike saw all the hardware, he gave a low whistle of appreciation.

"And all of this stuff kills one thing or another, right?" Logan asked, gesturing to the arsenal.

"Yep," Dean answered.

As Dean was digging through the trunk, the tension between the men was almost thick enough to need a chainsaw to cut through it. Dean cleared his throat. "Hey, thanks for letting Kenzie crash on your couch last night," he said gruffly. "It helped me to know that she's protected, even though she'll tell you she can do it herself," Dean added.

"Yeah, she's pretty independent, from what I remember. It was good to catch up with her, swap some stories," Logan replied. "And uh, you don't have to worry about me. I can tell how much she loves you, and I'd never come between that. As long as she's happy and you treat her right, that's what matters to me," Logan finished.

The two men shook hands, which seemed to ease some of the tension. Little did they know, but you and Lt. VanBuren were watching their interaction. "Well, I'll be damned. We might just be able to pull this off without them killing each other," you remarked.

"I didn't think Mike had it in him. You know, before Dean got here, I noticed something. Since you got here, Logan's been watching your every move. He still loves you," Lt. VanBuren observed.

"He said as much last night, but I told him about my feelings for Dean and how much he means to me. Logan said he understood and that he wouldn't come between us. We'll still be friends, though," you replied. The lieutenant seemed skeptical about that, but she kept her thoughts to herself for the time being.

Back up in the interview room, you all worked together to come up with a plan to find the skinwalker and eliminate it. Tonight, you were all going to the park dressed in regular clothes, like you were having a picnic of sorts. All the while, you would be keeping an eye out for dogs that may be candidates for the skinwalker. Even if it turned out to be a bust, at least you'd have the memory of a good meal spent together.

As you ate, various conversations filled the air. Lennie expressed his appreciation of the Impala to Dean, who didn't hesitate to boast about her attributes. Sam and Mike got to know each other a little better, while you and Anita quietly discussed the men sitting at the table.

At various times during the meal, you and Dean would lock eyes, and you gave each other a smile. Those moments warmed your hearts and made you love each other even more. Of course, everyone else decided to tease you about how "disgustingly cute" it was.

The real work began after dinner. Sam and Dean tossed around a baseball, while you and Logan took a walk together. Dean kept a watchful eye on the two of you, making sure to keep you in his sights.

"Relax, Dean, they're just talking," Sam said, interrupting Dean's surveillance of you and Logan.

"Yeah, Sammy, I know. Besides, I have a little game-changer in my pocket here," Dean grinned and tossed a small box towards his brother.

Sam opened it and gave a low whistle of appreciation. "Whoa, Dean. You mean this?" he asked.

"Sammy, I've never been more sure of anything in my life. She's my world, man. I can't see me growing old with anyone else but Kenzie. Maybe someday have a couple of kids running around the bunker, I don't know," Dean remarked.

Sam walked over to his brother to return the ring. "Well, I gotta say this. It's about damned time, Dean," he grinned. "I've watched the two of you over the years, man. There are no two people on this earth that are more meant for each other than you and Kenzie," Sam replied.

"Thanks, Sam, I appreciate that," Dean said. He looked up to see that you and Logan were walking back towards him and Sam. You stopped for a moment as your eyes met and you flashed him a brilliant smile.

Just as you were almost to where he was standing, a German Shepherd barreled into you, knocking you over. A man with dark hair, brown eyes and somewhat of an athletic build came running over to you. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I threw the Frisbee, but I thought he'd catch it before it reached you. Are you okay?" he said frantically.

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off. "I'm okay, please don't worry. It was bound to happen sometime tonight, park's kinda busy," you responded.

"Sarge, that was naughty of you to knock over this nice lady. Say you're sorry," the man admonished.

Sarge looked at you with deep sorrow in his eyes. You couldn't resist Sam's puppy-dog eyes, so you definitely couldn't resist the real thing. You reached over to pet him and scratch behind his ears. "Oh, it's okay, Sarge. You're still a good boy," you cooed.

"Kenzie? Baby, are you okay?" Dean came rushing over, checking you for injuries.

"I'm okay, Dean, really. You don't have to fuss," you pouted, but secretly loved his attention.

"Well, we'd best be on our way. Sorry about knocking you over, miss," the man said as he and Sarge departed.

Dean curled his arm around you, keeping you close to his side. You brought one arm around his waist and rested your head on his shoulder, your other hand resting on his chest. "You okay, sweetheart?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine, my love," you responded. You looked up to see him scanning the park and you could tell he had slipped into full-on hunter mode. You began to feel it too, like something wasn't quite right. "What is it?" you asked.

"Don't know yet. I don't think that was a random encounter. Something's off, and I think we should pack up and call it a day," Dean replied.

You both rejoined the group and helped pack things up. You agreed to meet at the precinct in the morning to share your thoughts about your encounter with the man and his dog. Dean drove back to the motel, his hand in yours with fingers intertwined. Once there, Sam went to his room, while you and Dean went to yours.

Dean threw his bags onto the floor next to the table and chair in the corner. You followed, and did the same with your bags. As soon as you closed the door, Dean had you pushed up against it, his lips smashed into yours with hot, devouring kisses. His hands roamed freely over your body, up your sides, your arms, and finally his hands cradling your face. "Oh, god, Kenzie, I've missed you so much," Dean whispered between kisses.

"I've missed you too, Dean. Holding that pillow last night was no substitute for the real thing," you replied breathlessly.

You broke apart long enough to help each other get undressed, then you met again beneath the sheets. Dean raised up on one elbow, hovering over you a bit. The back of his hand brushed your cheek ever so softly, almost with a reverence. "I love you with all my heart, Kenz. You are one of the best things to ever come into my life. It was me and Sam for so many years, then you came along," Dean remarked.

He reached behind him on the nightstand and brought out a small, black velvet box. "I've loved you from the moment I met you. There's no one else on this earth but you that I want to grow old with. Mackenzie Reed, will you marry me?"

Dean opened the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond and white gold engagement ring. Tears sprang to your eyes and you covered your mouth with your hand. "I love you so much, Dean, of course I'll marry you!" you exclaimed.

He slipped the ring onto your left hand then captured your lips in a slow, sensuous kiss. "I love you, Mr. Winchester," you grinned. "I love you, Mrs. Soon-to-Be-Winchester," Dean replied. You celebrated your engagement with a night of passionate lovemaking with your future husband.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The man and his dog returned to their car. Shortly thereafter, two men stood beside the car, the German Shepherd no longer present. The dog had been replaced by a tall, well-built man with blond hair and brown eyes. "It's her. The one we're looking for, I smelled it. She's the one who killed my twin brother two years ago. Hunters," he snarled.

"What should we do, Karl?" the other man asked.

"Patience, Thomas. Patience. Besides, once we capture her, we'll have an added bonus. An additional piece of leverage to get those hunter friends of hers to rescue her," Karl explained.

"What? What 'leverage' are you talking about?" Thomas queried.

"She is with child," Karl grinned evilly.

Up next: Part Three

#law and order #dean x ofc #dean winchester #spn crossover #spn imagines

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platypanthewriter · 4 years

Text

Strangest 3

Head trauma leading to mature discussions of personhood

“Hey. You comin’ tonight?” Billy leaned next to Steve’s locker, dripping from the shower, his towel in his hand.

“Where?” Steve frowned over, then turned away to breathe in the stale smell of gym clothes, closing his eyes as the flourescent lights shone on Billy’s shoulders, abs, and smirk.

“Carol’s.” He leaned in, warm breath heating Steve’s ear, and his voice dropped to barely audible. “Beat me at darts and I’ll blow you in the laundry room.”

“What?” Steve felt a grin forming, wondering whether Carol thought Billy was coming alone, and whether Tommy knew, but shook it off. “Why the hell’d you tell me your dad murdered your mom, Hargrove,” he hissed back. “Hopper’s pissed. He wasted his whole weekend tracking her down.”

Billy took a slow breath, his whole body pulling back and tensing like he’d iced over. Steve kept towelling his hair, jerking his head away as Billy slammed both lockers with a punch that left a smear of blood across the vents. The coach’s voice shouted over, but Billy was already stalking out into the hall. Half the basketball team ran after him. Their laughter at his wet naked ass failed to alert poor Mrs. Durand coming around a corner--she yelped, holding a pile of folders in front of her face. Billy knocked them aside to scream into her eyes, and shoved her into the wall.

“That dude’s hilarious,” Tommy beamed, and Steve stalked back in to ask the coach to see about Mrs. Durand.

A sharp knuckle in the back awoke Steve from blue-lit tunnels to the soft scratching of chalk at the front of the class.

“You aren’t breathing,” Nancy whispered. “Steve.”

He clapped his sweatshirt sleeve over his mouth in case of croaking noises, and focused on the page numbers copied out on the chalkboard. They blurred, and Nancy smacked the back of his head.

“Steve,” she hissed, just as the bell rung, startling his lungs into action.

“I’m breathing now,” he smiled, ducking his head to sort out his bag, and she grabbed his shoulder.

“Library. Now.”

He considered, then nodded. Nancy having a whole litter of kittens over his inattention in class sounded nearly as jarring against the Upside Down as breathing against Billy Hargrove’s jacket.

She drug him by the elbow anyway, stopping by the drinking fountain. “Do you need some water?”

“Nah,” he rubbed his face, finding that imagining himself as a fainting, corseted heroine didn’t have much entertainment value. Maybe if he told Billy later.

Her eyes narrowed, and she drug him on through the library doors, shoving him at a table. “What’s going on,” she whispered. “You were better. Mike keeps answering calls and then asking whether you showed up to class, and then whether you stayed through class, and then whether I saw you after class, but I thought you looked better!”

“Oh.” He rolled his eyes, wondering whether Dustin, Will, or Max were checking up on him. He dropped his bag on the table, dropping into a chair. “No, I am--I’ve been sleeping better.” She brought the full weight of extremely concerned eyebrows to bear, and he quailed. “Last night was--long, I mean, I don’t know, what do you want me to say, Nancy?”

“You weren’t asleep, just now,” her nose wrinkled in concentration, and his stressed brain informed him she was still unfairly attractive. “What’s going on, Steve?”

“That doesn’t happen as much, I’m really fine--”

“I know I haven’t really been around--”

“Oh, no, okay, Nance. There were monsters, this isn’t about--us. My house is way out there and it’s quiet and dark and lonely, and the snow looks like--” He frowned at a window. Like the floaters in the air in the tunnels.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I wish the wind would kick up,” she inspected a hangnail, “--I’ve been using my curtains, even during the day, it’s silly.”

He snorted, jerking the zipper on his bag back and forth. “Anyway, the little turds keep coming out to keep me company ‘cause they think they’re gonna find me dead on the floor because--”

She waited, raising her eyebrows, and he dropped his forehead to the table and groaned loudly enough for the librarian to smack a book loudly on her desk and clear her throat. “Steve.”

“I can’t believe they haven’t told you,” he muttered.

“Steve,” she said again, and the cool table started to feel good against his hot face. “What didn’t they tell me. I can get it out of Mike.”

“I like girls,” he informed her anxiously. “I do, it’s not--that, I mean, I’d still date you, it wasn’t you--”

Nancy jerked her head back, face squidged. “Ew, Steve, whatever this is, why does my little brother know about it? Gross.”

That was enough to get his head off the table. “Nasty, Nance,” he echoed her grimace. “Not like that.”

“You aren’t making any sense,” she raised her eyebrows.

He took a deep breath, glad to see horrifying confessions were enough of a distraction for his lungs to engage. “I’m, uh. I’m kinda, y’know...seeing Billy Hargrove.”

She snorted. “Psyche! Seriously, Steve.”

He clenched his teeth, glancing around, then whispered, “I am kissing Billy Hargrove. Look,” he leaned in, running his fingers along his jaw. “Stubble burn.”

“Oh my god,” she stared at him.

“I know." He let his head fall back, sliding down in his seat.

“Steve. Oh my god.”

After a long silence, he lifted his head to look at her, pulling his bag closer as a barrier between them.

She’d gone a little unfocused, her expression fixed. “No wonder they’re--wait, no, that can’t be what Mike knows. He--what happened, Steve. Oh my god.”

He whined into the side of his bag. “They left him in the trunk of my car! I took him back to my house, he just...he comes around now. Like when you feed raccoons.” He looked up to see her shaking her head, smile stiff.

“That’s pretty accurate, Steve, what if you don’t feed him one day and he eats you?” She leaned in, face serious, as though the biggest danger with Billy was a shortage of Violent Stranger Kibble.

“I don’t think--” He paused as she reached over and took his hand.

“Grace Olive Wiley was one of the most famous venomous snake handlers of all time,” she began, and he blinked. “She claimed they were harmless if you trained them the right way, but she was bitten while posing with one for a picture. It took her thirty seconds to pry it off her finger. Steve.”

“He’s not venomous,” he resisted the urge to pull her hand closer, “--I mean, like...I know he’s terrible, but he hasn’t…” He let his face fall against his bag again. “Did Mike tell you anything about Billy’s dad? Max’ stepdad?”

“No?” She pulled her hand back, leaning in, eager as ever for new information, and he grinned at the familiarity.

“Max says--” he stopped, biting his lips while he considered, “--he beats the shit out of him. Like, all the time. I think he broke a bottle or something over his head? He showed up covered in broken glass and cooking sherry.” She blinked slowly. “And I know cooking sherry, because--you know Tammy Ives, she was my first kiss, we’d been drinking cooking sherry.”

Nancy appeared to be biting back an explosion of laughter.

“Billy doesn’t drink cooking sherry, it’s salty, and anyway, he smelled more like--”

“I believe you, Sherlock,” she said around her fingers, her shoulders shaking with giggles. “I have never drunk cooking sherry, you’re the expert witness--but Steve, you can’t just--he beat the shit out of you, you can’t just--”

“I knoooow,” he moaned into his bag. “He’s convinced I got Barb pregnant, killed her with a nailbat, and...buried her in the woods? I think?”

Her mouth hung open.

“I know! But he knows I’m lying about what I used the nailbat for--”

“He’s seen your bloody nailbat?” she asked weakly. “Why…” Steve waited, but she just shook her head, leaning her face in her hands.

“It’s a colossal mess,” he sighed. “I think he thinks I’m scarier than he is?”

She gripped her notebook. “And that’s...impressive?”

“He thinks Hopper helped me cover it up,” he rubbed his face. “I don’t know what to tell him, the truth is--”

“Out,” she agreed. “Truth is out. Why does he…” She scrunched her nose up at him, and he shrugged, waiting. “If he thinks you’re a murderer, why does he want to--” it was her turn to glance around, whispering, “Why does he want to kiss you?!”

“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “Why do I want to kiss him?”

She pressed her hands together under her chin, pursing her lips as though there was an answer in her mental card catalog that would make everything make sense.

“I think we’re both like...half gay, Nancy,” he whispered, holding his hands around his mouth to keep the soundwaves from informing half the library.

“But he’s terrible,” she whispered back. “Have you ever wanted to kiss Jonathan?”

“No,” he shook his head, wide-eyed. “No, I swear, Nancy, I absolutely do not wanna kiss your boyfriend--”

“I’m not worried about it,” she rolled her eyes. “Jonathan’s not like that--” she frowned at him. “It’s bisexual, by the way, not--not half gay.”

“It is?” he asked, voice thready. “People are...that?”

She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m trying to figure out what Mike knows now, because if he knew you were kissing Billy Hargrove I don’t think he’d be worried.”

He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand.

“Actually I’m wondering, now, are you bisexual? Have you ever been attracted to another man? Because it’s Billy, Steve. Hargrove. What you might be is crazy.”

“That’s probably true too,” he hugged his bag to his chest, “--he--he helps, though. He’s just--I can’t think about--things--when Billy’s there stinking like--like cigarettes and cooking sherry.”

“Buy a dog,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows. “Come over. Y’know what, I’ve been stealing my mom’s horrible vanilla candles, my room smells like the bathroom in a furniture store, it's very...distracting.”

“Those were rank, where does she even--”

“You could ask somebody normal out. You’re still popular.”

“I can’t date anybody that knows, though,” he stared back, and she swallowed, lowering her eyes, “...and anybody else is gonna ask about the…” Nancy waited, and he cleared his throat. “I’m weird now, I barely sleep, I do weird things with--marshmallows--”

“Mike mentioned the marshmallows.” Her mouth quirked. “I...guess that might have been something we thought was weird? I don’t know what weird looks like to everyone else anymore.”

“Probably includes kissing Billy Hargrove,” he snorted into the bag, catching her giggles.

“You could kiss Tommy,” she stuck her tongue out, nose wrinkled, “--I mean, bleah, but think about it, he might try to beat you up but he wouldn’t win.”

“Tommy,” he echoed back, wrinkling his nose.

“He’s awful,” she leaned in convincingly, “--and safer.”

“...I could just watch The Outsiders a few hundred more times,” he muttered into his bag, and she frowned.

“...Dallas Winston, isn’t it. The scary one.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, feeling his neck start to flush. “Shut up. I saw you looking at Rob Lowe’s jawline too--”

“Jawlines,” she whispered. “He does have a nice jawline, doesn’t he. It’s just that Billy Hargrove is attached to the jaw. What does Mike know, though? He didn’t catch you two necking.”

“No!” Steve shuddered. “Just, uh. Billy keeps just...coming over? And then the Goonies showed up--” she blinked, then waved him on, “--and he was there all night? For their sleepover.”

“Oh my god.” She held her hands over her mouth. “What’d you do?”

“I told him to go upstairs, and they watched Lord of the Rings--”

“Eugh.” She stuck her tongue out. “I was so relieved Lucas got sick of the singing goblins.”

“Will might know,” he whispered back. “I drug Billy back inside by the hand--” one eyebrow raised at him, and he glared back at it, “--and Dustin and Mike were just doing that thing little cats and birds do, y’know, trying to scare Billy--” he leaned his head in his arms.

She blinked. “...puffing up? They were doing a threat display? I can see it,” she cocked her head, grinning, “--did Mike have his arms folded?”

“I don’t know, just Will was staring at our hands, the others didn’t notice.”

“Do you want him to keep it a secret? I can try to talk to him.” She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully, and Steve sighed over her freckles, feeling another flutter of relief that his sexuality wouldn’t be entirely Billy-Hargrove-directed in future.

“...I mean.” He bit his lips, the urge to protect his band of goblins throwing his brain back to barricading a bus. His breath shuddered, and he rubbed his face. “If I was dating Jonathan--” they both screwed up their faces, “--and I don’t want to, but if I was, then...I’d probably have to tell them. But if Dustin gets in Billy’s face about kissing me, Billy might,” he paused, tongue caught in a whorl of possibilities. “Grab him. Walk in front of a Mack truck. Jesus, I don’t know.”

“Steve,” she reached over for his hands again. “You don't need him around. Come over after school. I’ll give you some candles. You’re going to get hurt.”

He snorted. “It’s, I mean, it’s not…”

“Steve,” she repeated, eyes narrowing. “He could have killed you.”

“I know, I know.” He let his head drop onto his backpack.

“I don’t want to have to shoot him.” She squeezed his hands, and Steve started giggling again.

“Shit, Nancy,” he grinned up, “--what happened to our lives.”

The candles were, as advertised, rank, and Nancy smuggled them to him through the bathroom window as he shielded his face below. “She keeps accusing Dustin of taking them because she knows I hate ‘em,” she stage-whispered down.

“You should spray some of her perfume on him, next time,” Steve whisper-shouted back, and she buried her cackles in her forearm, before leaning out to throw him the bag. When he got home, he realized he didn’t have anything to burn them in that he wasn’t kinda afraid would crack, or catch on fire.

With the promise of singing mice unfulfilled--Rescuers and Secret of NIMH had played through without him reaching more than a light doze, and even his secret weapon, a copy of Cinderella from the mail-in video club, had had no lasting effect--Steve took a hot shower. Heat sometimes worked, though by the time he was drowsy the hot water heater was choking out its last burst of relaxation. The chill startled him into opening his eyes, rubbing his face, and scooting to turn off the water before yawning into a slump against the still-warm tiles. Just as his eyes started to drift closed again, he blinked alert to a crash outside--glass, it sounded like, against the house.

He went alert like an herbivore, body still, ears straining, before catching a tuneless yell. “Billy,” he groaned, rubbing his face again. “I was almost asleep, Billy Hargrove.” At the sound of a second crash, he flapped a hand out along the wall and yanked a towel down on his head. The air of his bedroom was frigid compared to the bathroom steam, and he stopped, shaking his head, then looped the towel up with his elbow and scrubbed it at his hair. He sighed. He could hear the beat of a car radio, and muffled shouting. The window was reluctant to open, but Steve was vaguely glad he hadn’t hurried to the front door, because Billy Hargrove had a six-pack labeled ‘Bud Lite’ on his hood, and he was hucking beer bottles at the door. “Billy!” he yelled.

Billy staggered against his car, fumbling with what looked like a rag in the top of the bottle. It flamed up.

“Fucking Christ,” Steve groaned, letting his head drop against the sill. “Hargrove!”

Billy swung to look around in a circle, dropped the flaming beer bottle (it went out), fell against his own car, and slid down to sit against the tire, wiping his nose against his wrist. “Fuck you, Harrington,” he yelled, fumbling to pick up the bottle. “Fuck you! King! King...Harrington!” It’d rolled against his foot well within reach, but using the fingers provided at the end of his arms seemed to be presenting a challenge.

“It’s two o’clock in the morning,” Steve shouted, then shut the window, shivering. He huddled himself in the towel. Another bottle crashed against the side of the house as he stumbled over the office chair on the way to the stairs, and Billy yelled some more, and then Steve opened the door. He slammed it shut again against another flying bottle.

He began composing an explanation to Nancy in his head. It was sleep deprivation. When I see him, my body knows if there were predators around he’d have been eaten, I think.

The doorknob rattled. “Lemme in, Harrington!” Another impact shook the door as the phone started ringing. Steve’s hair dripped freezing cold water into his ear, so he began drying it, wandering over toward the phone.

“Heard a call over the radio about your place,” Hopper’s voice sounded too awake for the hour. Steve stepped around the corner, yanking the cord so it whipped into the front room, in hopes Hopper wouldn’t be able to hear the yelling at the door.

“Sorry?” Steve tried. “Everything’s fine.” Everything was, was the thing, the adrenaline had cleared his head, his lungs were working like a well-tended racecar, and Billy was unlikely to set anything on fire with a Molotov cocktail made of Bud Lite.

“Your neighbour Ms. Williams saw flames,” Hopper waited, and Steve grimaced.

“I’ll have to apologize for waking her up.”

“Heard crashing, too.”

Handily the door was thick. Steve cupped his hand around the phone and his mouth, trying to keep the handset from picking up Billy’s screams. “Everything’s fine here, but if it’s going to get quieter, I really need to go,” he tried, gritting his teeth as it went briefly quiet outside, before there was another crash.

“Kid,” Hopper sighed. “They’re sending a car by.”

“Shit,” Steve said into the handset, hung up, stared at it in horror, and ran to the door. Maybe Dustin could relay apologies through Eleven. He yanked it open. “Billy, for chrissake--”

Billy squinted at him.

“Beer doesn’t burn, asshole,” Steve told him. “Though since you haven’t figured that out, maybe I shouldn’t tell you, you might try again. What the hell are you doing?!”

“Naked,” Billy snorted. The bottle he’d dropped rolled against his foot, and he very slowly lifted his foot to let it roll under his car. “You...you’re.”

“Yeah, man, you didn’t exactly call ahead.”

Billy tried to push up off the car and stand, staggered, and caught himself against the side mirror. “I stole Carol’s tequila,” he stage-whispered, snickering, and Steve groaned as he tucked the towel around his waist.

“I’m glad you didn’t set that on fire. Somebody called the sheriff, you moron, are you here to…fight me?”

“No,” Billy shook his head, and grabbed at the door of his car as his knees bent. “No. Jus’ hate you. Fuckhead. Harrington. You--you got that bat behind the door. Bastard.”

“I don’t, but--” Steve watched Billy trying to get the lighter back into his jacket. “How’d you make it here alive.” Steve started to step outside, and Billy held up a hand.

“Glass,” Billy walked around his car with a steadying hand on the hood to reach in and turn off the engine. “...’s broken. Glass.”

“Yeah, gee, Billy,” Steve yawned, leaning in the doorway. “How’d that get there. It sure is a mystery. If you try and drive you’re gonna kill somebody.”

“Yeah,” Billy laughed, letting himself fall against the hood. “I never wear a seatbelt. Want me gone?” He grinned over, slowly leaning back so his jacket fell open. “Kiss me an’ tell me to go off the road, Herring. Harrington.” He started giggling. “Just hold my head--back--and tip the tequila in, you. You fuck.”

“Billy,” Steve hissed. “The police are coming, get in here.”

“...glass everywhere.” Billy wove his way over, stopping to rub his face and stare at the step up to Steve’s door. “King Harrington.”

“Get in here,” Steve waited, letting his head fall sideways to press against the edge of the door. He let go as Billy reached the door, scrabbled at it, and it swung shut. Steve yanked it open again just as Billy fell against it, half-catching him as his head slammed into the knob. “...jesus, Billy, you alive?”

“Shit,” Billy curled in on himself, and Steve hauled him inside by his denim collar. “Fuck, jesus, Harrington--”

“There were headlights--somebody called the police,” Steve said, batting Billy’s hands away, trying to see whether the blow had drawn blood. “I just--just needed to get you inside--”

“That for throwing bottles?” Billy kept grabbing at Steve’s hands, trying to stop him from checking the point of impact with the doorknob. “It’s fine, I’m sorry, Harrington, shit--” he held his arms up between them, trembling. “I get it, you fucking asshole, you fucking--”

“You fell into the door, dipshit,” Steve yelled back.

Billy started giggling into the floor. “Barefoot,” he whispered. “Barefoot King Harrington.”

“I tried to catch your drunk ass!” Steve shoved him further across the floor into the kitchen, and Billy slapped his hands on the floor to brake. “I didn’t slam your head into the knob, Hargrove.” He let himself slide to the floor next to the denim menace, face against the linoleum. Billy’s breath smelled like tequila.

“Soooo sorry I threw bottles at your pretty house,” Billy whispered back, lowering his arms to wipe blood away from his right eye. “Where’s the bat, you asshole. Shithead.”

“Why the hell were you throwing bottles at my house, dipshit?” Steve reached over to thumb another trickle of blood off Billy’s cheek.

Billy flinched back and grabbed his hand, twining their fingers. “...Tommy showed up.”

Steve rolled to his back, sniggering, staring at the ceiling. “So was it a party, or like a mutual belt-notching--”

“’Gives a shit. Come on, Harrington.” Billy kissed Steve’s captive hand. His lips were warm and soft, and Steve groaned, rubbing his face with the hand Billy wasn’t imitating fellatio on. His tongue was incredibly distracting, supple and hot and wet, and Steve could feel his dick starting to prop up his towel.

“Hargrove.” Steve rolled to face him again, partially to hide his tent. “C’mon. What’s going on?”

“You suck,” Billy grinned back, dissolving into giggles again. “I could suck.”

“Are you high,” Steve sighed. “Don’t answer that. Come on, budd-uh, Billy.”

“Yeah,” Billy let himself get hauled to his feet, stumbling toward the couch.

Steve pulled Billy’s hand from where it’d slid up his thigh under the towel. “Come on, you’re bleeding. Lie down.” Billy tried to pull him down, patting clumsily at Steve’s naked chest and shoulders. “No, come on, just lie back, I’ll be right back--”

When Steve ran off upstairs to grab the first aid kit, Billy yelled more slurred insults and apologies after him, and Steve pressed his face into his pillow for a long second and whined. He glared down at his crotch. Think less about his tongue and more about the blood running down his face, he thought at his dick, then sighed. “Also remember he just tried to set my house on fire with beer and lost a fight with my doorknob.” His dick was mildly discouraged by these truths. Before running back downstairs--Billy had started singing his name as the lyrics to ‘My Sharona’, so it didn’t seem urgent-- he kicked his wet towel off. After a moment of thought, he grabbed a second sweatshirt for Billy. “Steve Har-ring-ton~” warbled from below.

When he got back downstairs, Billy was on the floor by the TV pulling videocassettes off the shelves, the discards forming a wall around him. “Haunted car,” he muttered, shoulders hunching as Steve walked back in. “What’s this say?”

“God, you’re so drunk. Come on, lie down, you’re shaking.” Steve dropped to lean against him, sliding an arm around Billy’s tight shoulders. He tugged the videotape out of Billy’s hand, leaning in to lick his ear when Billy wouldn’t let go.

Billy went still, staring back.

“Christine? It’s a stupid movie,” Steve warned, raising his eyebrows. “You’ll love the car--”

Billy drug him closer by the front of his sweatshirt. Steve blinked, swallowing, but tilted his head into the open-mouthed kisses Billy pressed across his face. Piled videos fell as Steve swung his leg over Billy’s lap, sliding his hand up into Billy’s hair on the side he wasn’t bleeding.

“You’re still bleeding, babe,” he ran his fingers through Billy’s curls, pulling him close to breathe against his collar. “Come up on the couch. I’ll clean you up.”

“Not your ‘babe’,” Billy leaned in for another kiss, “--you still pretending I’m Lady Nancy?”

“There’s a position as Queen open,” Steve offered, anticipating the elbow-in-the-gut-shove combo. He snickered, watching Billy wobble to his feet and stalk off to the couch. “I dunno, you’re practically twins and all. Not really used to kissing somebody I wouldn’t date.”

“Just--just attacked your castle, Majesty--” Billy leaned his face into the back of the couch, huffing a laugh, and Steve wandered over. He picked up the aid kit. “I can. I c’n leave. Park somewhere. Sleep it off. Now say sorry.”

“Noooope, what the hell, you're such an asshole.” Steve scooted close, but let Billy see him put his hand up to inspect the damage.

Billy shuddered at his touch, but leaned into it, letting his eyes slide closed. “...says you.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re great, we should definitely trade letter sweaters and share milkshakes,” Steve snorted, running his thumb over Billy’s cheek. “Just a second. Blood’s getting all in your hair, I’m gonna--” He pressed a wad of gauze to it, guiding Billy to lie down with his head in Steve’s lap.

“Wha’s happening.” Billy cleared his throat, sliding his hand under his head to brush most of his mullet out from under his head.

“I think it’s mostly a bruise,” Steve pulled his attention away from the length of Billy’s eyelashes and surveyed him with the knowledge he, Jonathan, and Nancy had gained by frantically cramming first aid books over winter break. “I’ll keep pressure on it until it stops bleeding.”

“Fuck do you care, you’re such a prick,” Billy muttered into his sweatpant leg.

“You’re in my lap, dipshit, what are you even talking about,” Steve ignored the phone ringing again.

Billy tried to bite his thigh through his jeans. “Harrington, you--fucking fucker.”

“Are you actually mad at me? Because you rammed your head into my door, not me--” Steve ran his fingers through the unbloodied sections of Billy’s hair, feeling him scoot closer. “I can’t even tell, stop grinning! You tried to set my house on fire, and I’m like ‘What happened, Carol run out of wine coolers?’”

“Fuck you,” Billy choked, punching his leg again. Drunk as he was, it didn’t particularly hurt. “She said you were coming.”

“That’s weird as hell--hey, hey hey hey--” Steve pressed more gauze over where it had shifted, ignoring the phone ringing again. Billy muttered something, turning his head against Steve’s sweatshirt, and Steve’s mouth dropped open. “Are you--are you chanting ‘I hate you’?! After you come over here, you--I’m not forgetting about the fire--which you suck at--”

“Fuck you, I do, I hate you,” Billy whispered thickly, trying to bat Steve’s arm away before resting his own arm across it to hide his face. “So much, fuck you, just--just die, you fucking--bitch bastard--”

“Shit! Shit, don’t--” Steve bit his lips together. If I say ‘don’t cry,’ he’ll turn this whole house into a mushroom cloud. He let his fingers slide around the back of Billy’s skull, pulling him in close, and the soft shaking and sniffles got louder until Billy punched the back of the couch a few times to drown them out. “Hey,” Steve tried again, when Billy’s breath was evening out, and he kinda wanted him to come up to blow his nose. “What happened. Did your dad--”

“She’s not dead,” Billy punched his leg again. “It was all--it was true. He told me…” Beginning to feel bruised, Steve felt his eyes narrow, considering just dumping Billy in Hopper’s yard with a bow around his upper torso. “She’s--she’s not dead, I thought he--he said she left. Kept telling dumbshit Billy she left. I thought no way she’d fucking just--just leave me there, she wouldn’t--she’s my mom--”

“...oh, oh shit, oh fuck,” Steve breathed, feeling his eyes go wide.

“I thought--he kept--thought he killed her,” Billy punched the back of the couch again, without much leverage since his knees were drawn up. “I’m so fucking dumb. I just…”

“She left him and you,” Steve said, aloud, like a genius, and Billy’s shoulders started shaking again.

“Sh-shut your fucking face, Steve,” he hissed. “She fucking... walked away. I keep thinking she didn’t know, right? Maybe he wasn’t like that before. Then I fucking came along.” Billy’s fingers slid under Steve’s shirt, but he was grabbing fistfuls of fabric. “This fucking idiot kid, fucking faggot piece of shit Billy Hargrove, she just--didn’t--she wanted a kid but not--”

“Jesus,” Steve leaned to look at the clock, and added another wad of gauze where red was seeping through.

“Just that--that fucking--he never hits Max-- she took a good look at this stupid little cunt and left town--”

“You’re not,” Steve said, clenching his jaw. “Shut up, no, that’s not--jesus, Billy--”

“Then she knew, fuckhead,” Billy smacked the couch again, “--she knew he’d--she knew what he’d--but it was me so she didn’t give a shit, she probably just--couldn’t wait ‘til I caught the bus--counting the minutes, is he fucking gone yet? Never have to see his face again--”

“No, I just mean, yeah, you’re Billy Hargrove--”

“Shut the fuck up, King Harrington--” Billy tried to shove away, punching his arm, and Steve caught him around the shoulders and braced them both against the floor with his legs.

“No! No, Billy, listen, c’mon, you are a--just--a complete piece of shit, but you’re a person, you don’t--nobody deserves that. I just meant--I’m sorry, jesus--” Billy was half sliding onto the floor, but he submitted to being hauled mostly against Steve’s shoulder, his forearm covering his wet laughter. “He didn’t just start that--bullshit because you’re you, she didn’t do--do whatever shit because you’re just--I mean, you’re garbage, but you’re a human being--”

Billy’s giggles sounded wet. “Yeah, right, genius,” he sniffled. “--I fucking know I’m trash, asshole--”

“But you’re a person, you were a little kid, right, she wouldn’t--”

“I’m a garbage person,” Billy laughed harder. “Garbage Pail Kid. They shoulda just taken me to the pound.”

Steve honestly couldn’t tell whether he was arguing or not, and suspected Billy didn’t know either. Just as he opened his mouth to point out that 100% of humans had been pissed off at children and most had managed not to belt them across the face, there was the beep of a siren pulse in the drive. Steve grabbed Billy’s hand and made him hold his own gauze, scooting out to run to the door. “Stay quiet,” he called back over his shoulder. “I’ll get rid of them, but they can’t see you.” Billy snorted loud enough to carry to the door, and Steve rolled his eyes as he unlocked it, squinting out into the flashlight of one of the deputies.

“We got a noise complaint,” the man called, slowly crunching across the snow-covered glass. “Mind turning on the porch light?”

“We just have the motion detectors,” Steve blocked the door, smiling. “Sorry. Drunk friend showed up. He’s passed out, noise is over.”

“Lot of broken glass out here. Your friend wouldn’t happen to be Billy Hargrove, would he?” Steve heard a soft “Fuck,” from the living room, and braced himself in the door. “We got a call saying he was drunk and disorderly. Is that blood on your face, Mr. Harrington?”

“It’s really late,” Steve felt his smile going stiff. “I’ve got school tomorrow. Everything’s fine. Can I go back to bed now?”

“I’d feel more comfortable if I had a look around,” the deputy aimed the flashlight into the room behind Steve, and Steve sent a prayer up to God or aliens that Billy wouldn’t be looming behind him, blood dripping from his hair, his eyes gleaming in the light.

“Uh, no,” Steve’s lungs, finally showing up for work, were making up the time, and he gripped the frame of the door on both sides to keep his hands from shaking. Hopper is gonna shoot me in both feet, he thought, but he was also fairly sure he didn’t want to turn Billy in for assault on his house with a weaponized six pack of Bud Lite, and have his front room turn into the Tet Offensive when a hapless sheriff’s deputy tried to arrest a crying, drunken Billy Hargrove. “It won’t happen again. Thank you for coming out, but I’d really like to get to sleep.”

After a couple more refusals--Steve stopped fearing Hopper’s disapproval, he found, when he had to shout at the man to get him to leave--he finally closed the door again on the receding taillights of the police cruiser, and returned to kneel on the floor next to the couch.

“You just got in a fight with a sheriff’s deputy.” Billy’s mouth was quirked. “Why--?”

“You ever hit Max?” Steve asked over him.

“Not...really.” Billy frowned, and winced.

“Have you ever intentionally hurt Max, Hargrove, it’s not a complicated question.” Steve rubbed his face, leaning his back against the couch and staring at Billy’s ring of movies.

“...I won’t,” Billy’s breathing had gone shallow, “--I won’t, Harrington, fuck, don't--”

The phone rang again.

“Because you know who hits kids is your fuckhead dad,” Steve ignored it, “--and you went straight for Lucas--”

“Fuck you, Harrington, I’m not my dad, shut up,” Billy flailed, and Steve grabbed his wrists, pressing the gauze back down. It wasn’t difficult. Billy’s skin was pale and sweaty, and Steve took a look at his fixed grin and reddened eyes and sighed, burying his head in the seat cushion.

The phone rang again, and Steve let Billy’s wrists go, stomped over, and unplugged it, before returning to frown at the gauze, and unroll some fresh. “Even if you’re pissed at me. Don’t take a swing at a person. Come…” he snorted. “Chuck bottles at my house, I guess.”

“What,” Billy sounded hoarse.

“Come on.”

“I’m not my dad, you fuck. I’m not gonna throw bottles at your house.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, slowly turning to look at the front door.

“Fuck you,” Billy curled up tighter.

“Come on, babe-buddy. If you get mad, I’ll--we can play a half-court game, or something. Come get me.”

“Fuck it out of me,” Billy snorted, grinning at him, and Steve took a deep breath, trying not to imagine grabbing Billy earlier that day, and slamming him back into the lockers before he stomped out into the hallway. Grabbing him by the hair and kissing him until he went warm and pliable.

“Jesus, Hargrove.” He let his head thump Billy’s shoulder, feeling him laugh.

“Should find a girlfriend who doesn’t care if I suck you off behind the gym,” Billy whispered in his ear. “Carol thinks it’s hot.”

Steve stared at him. “You told her? That--that you want to--”

“Fuck no. I asked about you and Tommy, she said she could take us all.”

“Tommy’d beat your--nah, you could take him.” Steve ran his knuckles over Billy’s abs, sliding up under the jacket where Billy’s ribs were damp and cold with blood loss.

“I could take him.” Billy grinned, his teeth bloody.

“I wouldn’t date somebody else and fuck you.” Steve wrinkled his nose, and Billy reached out for a handful of his sweatshirt again, pulling him in to smell blood and tequila.

“It’s just dumpsters back there,” Billy whispered against his mouth. “Just garbage.”

“Christ, babe,” Steve kissed back, his stomach clenching. He pulled back, and Billy’s arm slammed into his hands, knocking them away.

“Fuck you, Ha--”

Steve slapped his hand over Billy’s mouth again, trying to string words together. “You’re not gonna hurt anybody, right?”

The couch squeaked as Billy punched his wrist again, growling, his eyes tearing up, but Steve held his head. “Shake your head or nod. Yeah. Okay.”

Billy’s eyes narrowed.

“Just wait a second, listen. You’ll come to me if you’re feeling like--” he risked letting go to wave at the door, and Billy closed his eyes. “Billy. Come on. Even if I’m who you’re mad at.”

Billy nodded shortly, swallowing.

“Okay,” Steve took a deep breath. “Then you’re not a garbage asshole. You’re gonna try.” He kept his hand over Billy’s loud snort. “Right? You’re good.”

Billy smacked his hand away. “I’m good.”

“You’ll get better. You won’t be fucking--trash, like your dad.”

“You don’t fucking think that.” Billy’s voice was hoarse. “Shut the fuck up, you’d fucking beat my face in--”

“I’m serious, you suck because you’re an asshole, nobody’s born--”

“You don’t fucking have to tell me this shit,” Billy pulled away, pressing the gauze to his head so he could sit up. “I’ll...I’ll fucking be a good boy, you won’t have to hit me in the face with the nailbat. You coulda just.” He laughed, leaning his head against Steve’s shoulder.

“Just what,” Steve leaned his head against Billy’s.

“Fuck you,” Billy sighed, and Steve echoed it.

“I’m just saying. You can’t have been born a shitheel.”

“Try me,” Billy snorted.

“Look, if any kid’s that much of an annoying little shit I’d’ve murdered one by now,” Steve whispered into Billy’s hair, prompting a snicker. “I’ve saved them from--the--and that little bastard Mike still looks at me like I should be fired from life. If I was gonna beat on a kid, their heads would look like cranberry salad. ”

“What’d you save ‘em from, Steve Harrington,” BIlly slurred, and Steve smacked his own face.

“My point is, if you don’t hit kids, you don’t fucking hit kids.”

Billy blew his nose in Steve’s sweatshirt, and Steve yelped, grabbing a throw pillow and smacking him in the butt with it.

Billy cackled. “...you wanna hit this instead?” He shoved the gauze away, sitting up to turn a slow grin on Steve that had his pants feeling tighter, and a tingle running down his spine. Billy leaned in, sliding his arms around Steve’s neck, and smelling like tequila and aftershave. For once, he didn’t taste like cigarettes. His face was wet and salty, and warm, and smooth-shaven, and Steve lost track of words for a few seconds kissing it. “We could fuck,” Billy whispered into his kisses. “Right now. You can’t even hurt me right now.” He slid off the couch to straddle Steve’s lap, nearly falling off and braining himself further on the coffee table.

Steve grappled him back upright. “What the hell. Shut up, Billy, lie back down--”

“I’ve done it before,” Billy rocked against his lap. His ass was warm and heavy with muscle in his tight jeans, and Steve lost all power of thought. Billy kept whispering against his neck. “I’m feeling no pain, Stevey, I’m so numb.” He bit at Steve’s lips, his breaths coming quick. “I’ll be so good for you, Majesty. S’tight in there, doesn’t get much traffic. Nothing like it.”

“God--” Steve snorted, clapping his mouth shut before the ‘--no, what the fuck, what do you mean you’re numb,’ escaped into the air, pretty certain he needed to actually think about what he said before Billy Hargrove broke his jaw, stomped his drunk ass outside, and drove into a tree. Billy’s hair felt drippingly wet, and he jerked his hand back. “Goddamn, you’re bleeding everywhere. Come on, man, lay back down.”

“You fucking want to,” Billy snarled, grabbing the front of Steve’s pants, and yanking on his zipper.

Steve grabbed his hands. “Fucking hell, Hargrove--”

“Come on, I’m cold, ” Billy kissed him again, trying to jerk his arms out of Steve’s grip, “--c’mon, pretty boy--” He leaned in as much as he could with all their arms between them. “Your hands are warm. S’just your dick in a tight hole, doesn’t make you a fa--”

“Jesus, Hargrove--” Steve kissed him back, licking into Billy’s mouth every time he drew breath to talk. He started tasting blood, a little tang at the edge of his mouth, then sticky down the side of his face, then dripping down his chin. “Billy Hargrove. We gotta stop the bleeding.”

Billy laughed, curling into him, his muscles soft the way they went when Steve grabbed his hair.

Steve shivered, carefully letting go. He’d squeezed handprints into Billy’s forearms. Like he was making out with Sylvester Stallone again, he thought, biting his lips. “Lie down, babe,” he leaned to grab the gauze. “I’ll keep pressure on it, and we can do whatever when you’re not bleeding out from a head wound.”

“Keep calling me cute names,” Billy muttered. “You dumbshit. I’m not your girlfriend. ”

“Nooooo...” Steve stepped to the other end of the couch, not trusting Billy Hargrove’s head in his lap facing his dick. He beckoned him down, layering gauze in his hand. “Sorry. Dickhead.”

Once the bleeding finally had really, truly stopped, Billy scrambled away from his lap, stomping over to the magic circle of videos and tossing Christine.

“You just want me to put it on so you can steal the best seat,” Steve rolled his eyes, and sure enough, once the previews started, his corner spot was taken. He dropped against Billy’s side. Billy’s hair felt crispy with blood as Steve slid an arm around him. “You sure you don’t want a shower?”

Billy shook his head, closing his eyes, and Steve got up to get him some aspirin.

Steve snickered through Christine, grinning when he caught Billy watching him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Billy drained his beer can, and began prying off the tab.

Onscreen, the haunted ‘57 Plymouth was gnashing its hood, and Steve let his head fall against Billy’s shoulder, closing his eyes.

“Harrington.” Billy elbowed him.

“Mmm...” Steve scooted away to lie down, politely ignoring Billy’s weird swallowed choke.

“King Steve,” Billy hissed. “Your Majesty. Get your head out of my lap.”

“Nuh,” Steve rolled his eyes, “--get over it.” He fell into a light doze when Billy didn’t shove him off, waking to fingers prodding his head.

“...movie’s over,” Billy slurred, half-asleep, and still drunk.

“Fix it,” Steve mumbled, shrugging, and turning his head away from the light and sound to bury his face against Billy’s stomach. The denim was uncomfortable, so he burrowed in against the smooth abs, wondered whether they were damp from his breath, or if Billy was still cold-sweating with tension, and kissed them open-mouthed before licking across with the full width of his tongue. Billy shouted “Fuck” a few times in a high wheezy voice, and shoved Steve’s head, scrabbling sideways over the arm of the couch.

“Fucking Harrington Steve fuck,” Billy swayed, panting, his arms folded over his stomach, “--what the hell.”

Steve felt like he hadn’t slept in a year, which made everything funnier. “You’re salty,” he sniggered, half off the couch, and shoved himself back up, his flailing foot thudding against the floor.

“Shut up.” Billy sidled around the couch and clicked rewind, his face lighting with the black and white noise of a disconnected TV.

“Ants,” Steve muttered into the pillows. “How come you can kiss me.”

“Shut it, Harrington,” Billy knelt to frown at the shelf of movies. “What’s this. Alien?”

“S’good,” Steve sighed, rolling on to his back to frown at the ceiling.

Alien did not lend itself to another nap. As soon as the room lit with blue light, Steve could feel the hair on his arms rising. The passages in the ship were white, and shiny, but the mysterious creatures and the blue had him up off the couch, pulling off his bloodied sweatshirt. “I need to go have a look around.” He tossed the shirt, ignoring Billy’s head cock. There was a scrabbling behind him and the TV switched off.

“What are you doing?” Billy followed him into the garage, chugging the last of his can of beer.

“It’s fine, you should stay.” The sound of Billy crushing the can against the unbloodied side of his head brought him back, a bit, and he came over. “...you look like I hit you with the bat.”

“Who cares,” Billy grinned at him.

“Go put that sweatshirt on,” Steve pointed, taking a deep breath of Eau de Drunk Billy and feeling himself smile. “There’s snow, man, c’mon.”

“Yeah, mom.”

It was snowing again, making Steve’s skin prickle at the lightly falling fluff in the dim bluish light, but Billy bumped their shoulders, and Steve leaned in to kiss his face, twining their fingers together.

“What.” Billy pulled away, unzipping the sweatshirt--it had blood on it, Steve realized, Billy’d grabbed the one he'd discarded, not the clean one--and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Steve circled him to zip it up, but Billy frowned, turning away. His lighter was flicking too fast, and Steve dropped the bat, sliding his arms around Billy from behind to zip up the sweatshirt. Billy’s ear was hot against his cheek, and Steve dodged away from his flailed smack, laughing. He swiveled back when Billy started coughing after a drag on his cigarette.

“You okay over there?”

“Lemme alone,” he coughed again, bending to brace himself against his knees. “Just swallowed wrong. Somebody. Somebody hugged me. What. What are you,” he flapped a hand and Steve took it, grinning. “What was that. I’m up now, give my hand back.”

“I’ll hold it.” Breath billowed as Steve grinned back at him.

“We’re outside,” Billy hissed.

“I only have one neighbor,” Steve kicked the handle of the bat back up and grabbed it. “That smells nothing like a tunnel.”

“What?!”

“You smell good,” Steve pulled him close, breathing in his hair.

“Shut up,” Billy snorted. “I fucking don’t, stop lying.”

“You know that’s the sweatshirt you blew your nose in,” Steve bumped his shoulder, and Billy glared, then spat to the side.

They crunched through the snow all the way around the house to the edge of the woods, Billy lighting cigarettes serially partly because they were warm. “What are we even looking for,” he asked again, and Steve shrugged, squeezing his hand.

“Not a damn thing, really, just makes me feel better.”

The small house on the way to Steve’s was entirely lit up. Resonant barking shook the door. Once they’d climbed the steps, Steve pushed Billy behind him, feeling him go stiff again. After a few rounds of thumping, the door opened on a slow-moving woman with a cane, a huge smile, and white curly buns on the sides of her head. She clasped Steve’s pale hand in both her gnarled brown ones, and then pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m fine, Ms. Williams.” He patted her back, waving over her shoulder to one of several pitbulls.

“What on earth,” she whispered, then saw Billy as Steve stepped out of the way. “Good heavens. Is this your boyfriend?” Her eyebrows were nearly at her hairline, and Steve tugged Billy close and clapped a hand over his mouth before he got a reply out.

“This is Billy,” Steve used the hand over Billy’s mouth to make him nod, and Billy stomped his foot.

“Is everything...all right?” She narrowed her eyes at their clasped hands, then Billy’s bloody face. “That’s not fresh?”

“He fell.” Steve was bent over one of the dogs, hands under her ears to flap them gently. “He’s not my boyfriend. We didn’t see anything out there tonight.”

“Bless you.” She squeezed his shoulder, eyes narrowed at Billy, who rolled his shoulders, shrugging his charm on like a cape. “I won’t say a word, you know.”

“A pleasure, ma’am, thanks for worrying about this idiot.” Billy nodded politely to the dogs, and Steve snorted. “Let go of my hand,” Billy hissed, but didn’t pull away. “What are you, some kind of suburbian superhero?” He frowned around while she brought over a cut glass bowl of hard candies masquerading as strawberries.

Steve accepted one, locked eyes with Billy, and slid it quickly in his jean pocket. Rolling his eyes, Billy unwrapped his, popping it in his mouth, ignoring Steve’s urgent headshake. Once they accepted, she sat the plate down to pat the pitbulls on either side of her chair.

“I know about the mountain lions, honey,” Ms. Williams said, and Steve nearly crushed Billy’s hand.

“Uh, what?” Steve forced his lungs to laugh, ignoring Billy’s side-eye.

“Your little friend Dustin came by and asked me to keep an eye on you.” She turned her smile on Billy, patting the closest pitbull. “I had to clean up what was left of Sneezy, and Prancer here’s sister Blitzen, after all.” Billy, who’d just stuck candy in his mouth, choked, coughing. “These are Prancer, Florence Ballard, and Diana Ross. I do wish you’d brought the bodies to me, dear, my darling’s work made me a dab hand at taxidermy.”

Prancer wriggled toward Steve on her stomach, and he reached down to stroke her ears. “I mean, I used a nailbat, ma’am.” He kept his eyes on the dog, hoping Billy didn’t choke to death on horrible hard candies. “There wasn’t much left. Uh.” When he glanced up, Mrs. Williams was patting Florence Ballard, and Billy was mouthing furiously at him.

“He also told me about the bus,” Ms. Williams smiled at Steve’s spluttering, and rocked herself upright again. “Would you like some hot chocolate, honey?”

Steve nodded, crawling down half-under the couch to bury his face in Prancer's belly. She was missing a leg after her run-in with the demodogs.

“Oh, that’s from the lions too,” he heard her telling Billy, who sprang up to follow her into the kitchen. Steve breathed in the smell of clean pitbull fur.

When Steve finally lifted his head, unable to relax while Billy received Dustin’s version of events, he sidled up to listen through the door. I bet he told her I had a sword, and swung in with my merry men, on a vine, he thought, leaning his head into the kitchen.

“More marshmallows, and he likes three spoons of instant coffee in there,” Billy was explaining, leaning against the counter to show off his abs and folded biceps, and smirking at her through his lashes. Steve covered his grin, coughing.

“My,” she glanced up, and Steve couldn’t resist stepping up slowly to slide his arms around Billy’s waist.

As expected, he went tense. “Harrington. I think a shard of this candy just punctured my tongue. ”

“I tried to warn you,” Steve whispered, biting his ear gently. “You remember my hot chocolate recipe.”

Billy pushed his face away, and Ms. Williams beamed between them. “Yeah, Steve, I can make hot chocolate. There’s a mix, it’s not hard,” Billy growled under his breath.

“It’s kinda complicated,” Steve whispered in his ear. “Even Dustin doesn’t get it just right.”

“Wow, I can add water,” Billy snorted. “She didn’t even have any candy canes.”

I don’t need them, I have you, Steve thought, aware his smile was getting goofy. He accepted the chocolate, which was exactly correct, and sighed, squeezing Billy against him.

By the time Mrs. Williams had given Steve another tight hug--“Answer your phone, child,” she chastised, and he hunched his shoulders--and they’d began walking home, it was dawn. The snow still looked like the floaty crap in the tunnels. At least the world isn’t blue. Steve stumbled up the steps, unlocking the door, pushing it open, and sitting in it. He let himself fall back, his legs hanging outside in the snow.

Billy snorted, grabbed his hands, and drug him inside, dropping to lie next to him. “Mountain lions,” he said to the ceiling.

“I guess,” Steve sighed, rubbing his face. “Maybe don’t wake her up again, she’s tough, but I think she thought you beat me to death.”

“She thought I was your boyfriend,” Billy snorted. “What the hell. Whatever the hell this is--” he waved at Steve, then the bat, “--you gotta stop touching me. Out there.”

“It’s actually a good story,” Steve rubbed his face. “Reason to be around. Yelling shit.”

“...when did you even sleep last,” Billy tucked his elbow under him, frowning over. “You’re--you’re fucking--hallucinating. If you think telling people that shit is a good idea. How long has it been.”

“In your lap.”

“...for real, fucker, when did you get a night’s sleep, you look like I punched back.”

“...whatever. I don’t know. I’m telling. I’m calling ‘em,” Steve started crawling on his elbows, and Billy grabbed his arm.

“You are tripping balls...you should stay home,” Billy pressed a hand to Steve’s forehead, squinting in the light from the door. “Maybe you’re sick.”

At the feeling of Billy trying to take his temperature, Steve had started giggling. “Okay, okay. Fine.”

“...do you want a ride to school? You shouldn’t drive,” Billy asked, staring towards the phone.

“...I dunno, are we both gonna die?” Steve looked over. “Are you sobered up enough?”

“I gotta pick Max up anyway,” Billy leaned over, letting his head rest against Steve’s chest. “Had a beer like...two hours ago.” He sighed. “Feel like I’m gonna fuckin’ die, actually.”

Steve snorted, sliding his hand down Billy’s spine. “You kinda smell like it.”

“Fuck you,” Billy mumbled into his chest.

“But yeah, I’ll take a ride. We can keep each other awake.”

“I’d kill God for some sunglasses,” Billy groaned.

“Didn’t know you needed a reason.” Steve checked the kitchen clock before letting his eyes slide shut.

Twenty-three minutes later, his alarm went off upstairs, and Billy curled into a fetal ball of muttered profanity before staggering to the bathroom. He didn’t latch the door, so the sound of vomiting came through clearly. Steve slowly rolled onto his face, then clambered to his hands and knees. Sometimes I’d rather not have a body. Or a head. He winced at Billy’s loud gagging. Given the kissing options right now, floating around like Casper seems like a great idea. He leaned on a chair and pushed himself upright, stretching his back slowly in case something broke off. When nothing did, he wandered out to the front room and plugged the phone back in. It rang not three minutes later.

“Harrington residence,” he sighed, leaning his head against the wall.

“We’ve been called by the police.”

“I know, sorry, everything’s fine.”

“This is the third incident.”

Steve walked back around the wall, leaning to see the bathroom door, then shrugged. “Actually my boyfriend just freaked out, we’d had a fight, he’ll be over a lot, the water bill might go up?”

The other end was silent.

“Bye,” Steve hung up, turning away from the wall to see Billy leaning in the entryway.

“What the hell did you just do.” His voice was hoarse.

“I probably have a spare toothbrush,” Steve put a hand on each of his shoulders and walked him back to the bathroom, “--I didn’t say it was you.”

“What the fuck.” Billy wiped his mouth, sitting on the toilet.

“Now if you’re here all the time, there’s a good reason.”

“It’s not even true,” Billy allowed his fingers to be pressed around the toothbrush, “--you’ll...what about school. You’re gonna…”

“Nobody’ll know. Come on, we gotta go.”

When they pulled up at Billy’s house, Max drug Steve out of the car and most of the way through a shrubbery. “Are you okay,” she whispered. “Nobody could reach you. I could cut his brake cables.”

“Jesus,” Steve patted her hand where she’d clenched it in his jacket. “Uh, no, it’s fine?”

“El heard police calls on the scanner. She said they mentioned a fire.”

“Sorry.” Steve tugged at his jacket. “We’re both okay.”

“He slammed my head into a door,” Billy said from a few feet away, and Max let go, glaring.

“Sounds like you deserved it.”

“You fell! He was drunk,” Steve turned to Max. “He gashed his head on the doorknob. I tried to catch him!”

“If he’d done it on purpose he’d brag, fuckhead.” Max shoulder checked Billy on the way to the car, and he pressed the heel of his hand to his head, setting his jaw.

Once they were in the car, Billy glanced between them, and turned down the volume on Rock You Like A Hurricane. “So,” he smirked at Max in the rearview mirror, “--Mountain lions?”

“What?” she snapped back.

Steve reclined his seat, nearly crushing her as she scrambled away. “Dustin told Mrs. Williams we fought mountain lions.”

“That’s stu--” she coughed as Steve widened his eyes at her. “Uh. Whatever, I don’t care.”

“So." Billy ran his fingers through his hair, and Max snorted. “Not mountain lions, then.”

“Fuck off,” she muttered, scooting down in the seat. “God, you reek.”

“What happened in the bus?” Billy slid a cigarette out of his jacket.

“Jesus,” Steve hugged his backpack to cover his face.

“Your mom made you in a bus,” Max muttered, and Billy swerved. Steve swung over and grabbed the wheel, punching Billy in the shoulder and Max in the knee with his other hand.

“Don’t kill us. Christ.”

“What does this have to do with how I ended up in the trunk.” Billy smiled at Max in the rearview mirror, and she kicked his seat.

“Seriously!” Steve punched Billy’s shoulder again. “I don’t wanna die. Just drive.”

Billy cranked the music back up, lighting the cigarette, his face set. They hadn’t even stopped pulling in in front of the school before Max had the door open, and Steve reached over to slide his thumb under Billy’s cuff.

“Shit. I told Hopper I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Billy shrugged, grinning at him as Max stalked around to start bodily dragging Steve out of the car. To Steve’s bewilderment, Eleven stood by to slide into his place. She had a big pink bow in her curls and a matching dress, but her face had the flat stare he remembered from first meeting her. Mike slid in behind her, and Billy looked from Eleven to Steve, somewhere between entertained and pissed off. “What the?” he mouthed, spreading his hands.

Max slammed the car door, dragging Steve by the elbow into the first classroom off the middle school hallway.

“What’s going on,” he asked Dustin, who shook his head, shoving him at a chair.

“Steve, you’ve gone insane.”

“It’s an intervention,” said Lucas, folding his arms.

Steve had his eyes on the windows watching Eleven in the car with Billy and Mike. Billy was listening, as far as he could tell, cigarette out the window. Glancing up to meet his eyes, Billy backed out of the parking space, and left the school.

Strangest chapter 1/chapter 2/chapter 3/chapter 4/chapter 5/chapter 6/chapter 7/chapter 8/chapter 9/chapter 10/ ALSO I am having a hard time editing these links into chapters 4-10 so...maybe leave this open in a tab...or something...I’m sorry I fail at Tumblr

Really I’d recommend reading it on Ao3 under peterqpan, scrolling through it on Tumblr sounds crazymaking XD Thank you for reading this far!

#Harringrove #platypan #platypan fic #Strangest #Steve's kids keep kidnapping people #Billy specifically #Steve wants to run away with Billy himself

10 notes · View notes

wondertainmenttoys · 5 years

Note

A Gamer and a Wondertainment intern talk over video chat

Document POI-9874-12

Date: 10/12/2019 - 10/19/2019

Background: POI-9874 (Arthur Mullin) is a suspected member of the group of interest “Gamers Against Weed” and has been under Foundation surveillance since 07/16/2018.

Document Summary: Document POI-9874-12 are transcripts of online interactions between POI-9874 and Thomas Randall, who is believed to be a friend of POI-98745 and possibly associated with the group of interest “Dr. Wondertainment”. Reclassification of Randall to the status of POI is pending.

For the sake of brevity, POI-9874 will be designated as “Gamer” and Randall will be designated as “Vendor”.

—

Vendor: DUDE

Gamer: Wat???

Vendor: I GOT A JOB

Gamer: DUDE

Vendor: DUDE

Gamer: [IMG]

Note: Image was an animated gif of a video game character dancing

Gamer: what is it

Vendor: Some vendor job. The interview was kind of weird but I’m just happy to finally get a paycheck.

Gamer: weird? You got nervous or something?

Vendor: Nah. The interviewer just seemed way too happy to talk to me. like come on it’s just a vendor job what are you excited about.

Gamer: lmao probably desperate to get someone to fill the spot. hope that doesn’t mean that they’re about to go under or something.

Vendor: God please no

Gamer: I’m sure its fine

Vendor: hope so

Gamer: when do you start

Vendor: tomorrow

Gamer: dude you have to tell me how it goes

Vendor: lol it’s a vendor job so I’m not expecting much, but I’ll let you know

Gamer: whats the place called

Vendor: it’s dumb. Wild Oddities, Neat Doodads, Rare Terrific New Magic Toys

Gamer: [IMG]

Note: Image was a jpeg of a zoomed in picture of Shrek. The character has a neutral expression.

Vendor: I know. But whatever I’m getting paid for it

Gamer: True true. Good luck tomorrow!

Vendor: thanks!

—

Gamer: yo

Vendor: yooooo

Gamer: dude how’d that new job go? Did you vend hard. Sell some of those terrific rare toys?

Vendor: it was pretty boring. I sold some things. they’re stupidly cheap.

Gamer: cheap?

Vendor: yeah. Like some of the pricier stuff only costs like $5 max. it’s wild.

Vendor: especially with how much they said they’re gonna pay me

Gamer: how much are they paying you???

Vendor: $30/hr

Gamer: holy shit

Vendor: YEAH

Gamer: Dude not to alarm you but that’s kind of shady. might not be something that stays in business for long

Vendor: I know. Maybe they’re the type of company that sells a ton of cheap stuff en masse.

Gamer: maybe

Gamer: what are you coworkers like

Vendor: uh there aren’t any. it’s just me at this small store I think

Gamer: wait so they’re making you clean up and restock without help

Gamer: that’s some bs

Vendor: I don’t think so? It wasn’t in my job description, so I’m guessing someone comes in at night or something after I close.

Gamer: bro

Gamer: bruh

Gamer: brokowski

Gamer: ngl that’s shady as shit

Vendor: yeeeeeeah now that you mention it

Gamer: you’re like in a front for the mafia or something

Vendor: I’ll see how it goes for the next few days. if it gets way too shady I’m out.

Gamer: bro I’d just get out now

Vendor: but the pay

Gamer: bruh

—

Vendor: hey so you know how we talked about shady shit

Gamer: uh yeah?

Gamer: please don’t tell me that you had to bury a body or something

Vendor: someone broke in last night and stole a ton of the merchandise and the cash in the cash register

Gamer: oh shit

Vendor: smashed the window in too

Gamer: you ok?

Vendor: I thought i was going to get fired

Vendor: but I got a call from the manager and told them about it

Gamer: yeah?

Vendor: and they thanked me??? like they said that was the biggest sale I’ve done for them and that I’m doing a great job?

Vendor: dude you got your shit stolen why aren’t you mad

Gamer: calling it now that stuff had drugs stuffed in them. it’s too shady

Vendor: yeah it’s freaked me out a little

Gamer: way too shady

Vendor: but that’s not it

Vendor: After my lunch break I went back to the register

Vendor: and all the stolen stuff had been restocked

Gamer: what

Vendor: like when I wasn’t looking someone just restocked the shelves or something

Vendor: and the window as fixed too

Vendor: I didn’t hear the door open or anyone walk in or anything

Vendor: not even a customer

Vendor: It’s a really small shop so I would’ve noticed

Gamer: okay that went from shady to scary way too fast

Gamer: get the fuck out of there

Vendor: I know I’m already looking for a new job

Vendor: this is some paranormal shit

—

Gamer: you doing ok

Vendor: yeah.

Gamer: your still at that Wild Terrific Toys place right

Vendor: Wild Oddities, Neat Doodads, Rare Terrific New Magic Toys?

Vendor: yeah

Gamer: anymore spooky shit go down

Vendor: no. the shelves are still doing that restocking thing when I don’t look but other than that it’s been quiet.

Gamer: I was thinking

Vendor: what

Gamer: what do they sell again

Vendor: toys and games.

Vendor: board games

Gamer: and this is in Portland right

Vendor: yeah?

Gamer: Just throwing this out there but have you heard of Portland with a 3?

Vendor: ???

Gamer: Like a 3 of Portlands or a 3rd Portland at your job

Gamer: 3 Portlands

Vendor: what no

Gamer: ok just had an idea but I was wrong

Vendor: what was your idea

Gamer: it was about that weird place you’re working at

Gamer: i thought it might have to do with something

Gamer: hey can you send me a pic of the store logo?

Vendor: sure. why though

Gamer: i’m going to see if any of my friends know about it. I know one who is super into bizarre stuff like this

Vendor: yea tomorrow I’ll get you a pic

—

Gamer: hey you got the pic

Vendor: no. for some reason everytime I try to take a picture it comes out blurry or unfocused

Gamer: weird

Vendor: the store’s haunted or something

Vendor: I drew a sketch of it though

Intern: [IMG]

Note: Image is a sketch of the Wild Oddities, Neat Doodads, Rare Terrific New Magic Toys logo on a yellow sticky note. The font style loosely resembles that of previous logos used by Dr. Wondertainment.

Gamer: thanks

Note: Shortly after this interaction POI-9874 discussed the topic in an online chatroom with other members of Gamers Against Weed. See Document POI-9874-14 for a full transcript.

—

Vendor: hey so I know it’s 3 AM and you’re probably asleep

Vendor: but i decided to stay late at the shop just to see if any other employee would come in

Gamer: oh fuc

Gamer: k

Vendor: and someone did at like midnight

Vendor: OH YOU’RE AWAKE

Gamer: ye

Gamer: dude was it a ghost?

Vendor: no

Vendor: some old lady

Vendor: I think it was the janitor

Vendor: but like everything else there she was weird

Gamer: a ghost

Gamer: calling it

Vendor: she was surprised to see me but didn’t seem too bothered by it

Vendor: like complimented me for working late or whatever

Gamer: ok

Vendor: but I swear dude

Vendor: her eyes

Gamer: DEAD GHOST CALLING IT

Vendor: I DON”T KNOW DUDE

Vendor: but I SWEAR I saw them glowing in the dark

Vendor: like glowing green

Vendor: like a Christmas light

Gamer: ghost

Vendor: She was super nice and cheerful but it was unnerving

Gamer: dude you saw a ghost at your haunted toy store

Vendor: i dont know it was weird like everything else

—

Gamer: so I spoke to my friend

Vendor: yeah?

Gamer: Does Wondertainment ring a bell to you?

Vendor: yeah I think most of the toys there are from them. why.

Vendor: are their toys supposed to be haunted or something

Gamer: something like that yeah.

Vendor: are you kidding me

Gamer: I mean they said it’s harmless

Gamer: like some sort of urban legend that’s weird but doesn’t hurt you

Gamer: you just do your thing and they’ll pay you

Gamer: I’ll have to introduce you to them later

Gamer: they can explain it better

Intern: ok

Gamer: they also said that Men in Black type stuff can happen if you stay there too long

Vendor: uh men in black? like the movies

Gamer: no like the creepy UFO stories

Gamer: where they show up at your house and try to shut you up or mess with your memories

Vendor: what even is my life right now

Gamer: Like I said, it might be better to get a new job

Vendor: I think I’ll weather things out for now

Vendor: at least until I get my first paycheck

Gamer: I guess. just let me know if more weird stuff happens dude

Vendor: will do

—

Vendor: ok so weird stuff happened again

Gamer: oh boy

Gamer: you ok?

Vendor: yeah I’m fine. I’m honestly starting to get used to it

Vendor: so the less weird thing was that this morning I found a basket of baked cookies

Vendor: with a note thanking me for being a hard worker

Vendor: they were still warm too

Vendor: so I guess the janitor or someone else just dropped them off right before I arrived Intern: look if it’s just weird stuff happening, then I guess I can live through it

Gamer: ok

Vendor: but then I got a weird customer

Vendor: like some random guy

Vendor: just walked in saying he’s here to inspect the store

Vendor: it’s a small toy store what is there to inspect

Vendor: i mean it’s haunted but that only happens when I’m not looking

Vendor: anyways he said he’s part of some Social something Policy

Vendor: Social Coordination Policy

Vendor: Social Corporate Policy

Gamer: uh

Vendor: something like that

Vendor: Social Corporate Policy. Yeah that’s what it was

Gamer: uh

Vendor: The guy kept wanting to get into the back but I told him I’d need to call the manager

Vendor: really pissed him off

Note: This seems to be describing Field Agent ████████’s investigation into the venue, which was conducted on 10/18/2019.

Gamer: uh

Vendor: uh?

Gamer: I think that’s the men in black stuff my friend warned you about

Vendor: OH

Gamer: what did your manager say?

Vendor: They didn’t seemed really bothered by it. Said it happens and that they’d take care of it, whatever that means.

Gamer: ok

Gamer: so he was basically like

Gamer: [IMG]

Note: image is a jpeg that depicts a cartoon character leaning back with the caption “Not My Problem”. Testing revealed that the image is anomalous in nature and temporarily makes any individual who sees it resistant to amnestics.

Vendor: lmao yeah

Vendor: if this is the Man in Black stuff then the moment I see that dude again I’m running for it

Gamer: not sure if that’s a bad or good idea dude

Vendor: maybe my ghost manager will protect me

Vendor: or maybe I’ll find another job before anything else happens

Gamer: I can help you look for something if you need

Vendor: thanks. I think I got it though

—

Vendor: uh

Vendor: remember how you offered to help me find a new job

Gamer: yeah??

Gamer: what happened

Vendor: the store is gone

Gamer: waht

Vendor: it’s gone

Vendor: poof

Gamer: like gone gone?

Vendor: the place is empty

Vendor: [IMG]

Note: Image displays a photo of an empty storefront. The inside of the store looks abandoned and shows signs of structural decay. A Foundation agent monitoring the location that morning confirmed that Thomas Randall was the one to take the photo.

Vendor: It’s like it’s been abandoned for years

Gamer: ghost toy company

Vendor: YEAH

Vendor: and this morning I got an email from them

Vendor: thanking me for my work and saying I’m pretty much fired

Gamer: wow what dicks

Vendor: NO BUT THEY’RE LIKE PAYING ME A YEAR’S WAGE

Vendor: a year’s worth of $30/hr

Gamer: wow what not dicks

Vendor: yeah

Vendor: I got spooked a lot but I kind of don’t regret it?

Vendor: I won’t lie I’d work for a haunted toy company again just for that kind of pay lmao

Gamer: honestly I don’t blame you

Gamer: glad you didn’t get kidnapped or killed

Gamer: especially with the Men in Black

Vendor: lol yea

Gamer: Fucking Tommy’s Bizarre Adventure with Wondertainment

Vendor: [IMG]

Note: Image depicts a heavily edited image of an cartoon character with the caption “IS THAT A MOTHERFUCKING JOJO REFERENCE”

Gamer: HA

Gamer: Speaking of that I still need to introduce you to my friends

Gamer: they know a lot about this stuff

Vendor: dude please do

Gamer: also might help with anymore weird stuff that happens

Gamer: because after this I think you might be running into more weird shit

Vendor: My Bizarre Adventure begins

Vendor: as long as it’s not shady anymore

Gamer: [IMG]

Note: Image is similar to the last, but with poorer spelling

Gamer: yeah here you go.

Gamer: [LINK]

Note: link leads to a chatroom that POI-9874-12 frequents, which is believed to be associated with Gamer’s Against Weed

#Glimpse #from the Department of Writing(tm)#Anonymous #Gamer's Against Weed #Dr. Wondertainment #[[ too little too late did I realize that this said video chat #so online chat it is #and the intern is now a cashier

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tsumisgarden · 5 years

Text

Moments worth fighting for

The year might be new (Happy New Year!) but my obsessions haven’t changed.

I want to put two scenes next to each other.

This one from 01x06

Max: (About Liz) That's one of those moments that, like, I feel like it's worth fighting for. Michael: Yeah. I know those moments.

And this one from 01x03

Michael: Guess you're still the guy just looking for any excuse to walk away, huh? Alex: Maybe. And you're still so good at giving them to me.

In the 01x06 scene, it’s obvious Michael’s thinking about his moment with Alex in the shed, when they almost kissed and he turned away. He’s thinking about how that moment is worth fighting for, so as to turn it into something more. Then the next time we see Michael, he’s at the museum doing exactly that.

Fast forward ten years later. Alex says that Michael keeps giving him reasons to walk away. I know it’s not so simple, but just like we can acknowledge that while Alex has valid reasons to walk away from Michael (trauma) and his intents aren’t malicious, Alex still isn’t totally free of blame, we also have to acknoweldge the same about Michael pushing Alex away.

Back to the comparison. Where I’m getting at is that there’s such a blatant contradiction between giving Alex reasons to leave on one hand and saying the moment he had with Alex in the shed was worth fighting for on the other.

You could say that a lot happened between those scenes, that they’ve had it rough, and it’s true. But what you can‘t say is that what Michael said in 01x06 is still true, that he’s still doing it, and that what Alex said in 01x03 is not true. Because the former no longer is true, and the latter is.

Point in case, and it’s the most obvious example: Michael going to Maria in 01x13 is the very opposite of fighting for Alex.

Because an extreme example isn’t always the best example, there are instances all throughout season 1 of Michael giving Alex reasons to walk away and/or definitely not fighting for him.

01x01

Michael: Alex. Back from Baghdad. Your father must be proud. Finally a real Manes Man. Alex: Three quarters of one. What are you doing in this trailer? Sure as hell doesn’t look legal. Michael: Little weed, lots of casual sex, and uh. Covert plans to violently overthrow the government. Quick, Alex. Run and tell your daddy.

I mean, what better way to a man’s heart than comparing him to his abusive father and gloating about what a tumultuous life you’re leading, amirite? And this is their first interaction.

01x02

Alex: Guerin. What happened at the Reunion cannot happen again. Okay? Michael: What happened? I was pretty wasted.

Tbf, Alex started this one, but the point is that Michael immediately goes on the defensive, which again, is the opposite of fighting for something.

And he does go on the defensive quite a lot.

01x08

Michael: You lost the crutch. Alex: It was slowing me down. Michael: Oh, you don’t have to leave. Alex: I was on my way out. Michael: Hey. Is this really how it ends? Sex was epic. So shouldn't the breakup involve some pyrotechnics? Scream? Break some stuff? Really make it feel over.

This is yet another instance of, ‘Alex could have been more congenial’, but Michael could have pulled the brakes instead of getting defensive again by implying that it was just about sex.

Then when he doesn’t get defensive, he gets dismissive, which is still not fighting for it.

Point in case, 01x03.

(Isobel: Hello? I have bagels!) Alex: Oh dammit. Michael: Relax, man. It’s just Isobel. Alex: Wait. Does she know about us? Michael: Would it be so bad if she did? Alex: Yeah. (Michael stands up, upset) Guerin... Michael: Nah. Don’t worry about it.

Even when he told Alex that he never looks away, if you think about it, looking at someone is still a passive gesture.

This is not me putting the burden of Michael and Alex not working out completely on Michael. It’s just that the contrast of between 01x06 line and Michael’s actions is so stark that it’s giving me whiplash. Maybe I’m just latching onto that line too much, but I read it as a significant scene for Michael in relation to his feelings for Alex. It is, after all, when we see him acknowledge that he wanted more with Alex, and that he was ready to do something about it. So you’d expect he’d be consistent in his resolve.

So here’s to hoping that our two darling idiots will finally both be ready to fight for each other (instead of fighting each other) preferably in the near future.

#roswell new mexico #rnm #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #shut up tsumi #long post

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mintchocolateleaves · 5 years

Text

Match-Made (1/4)

Summary: Whilst spying on David one day, trying to come up with new ways to break him, Max, Nikki and Neil come to realise that the man is... married? But - of course not. There's no way that could be true. It's - it's David. Who would marry him? It seems like they're going to have to figure it out.

A/N: Y’all know I started to watch camp-camp, and this is the product of that. Hope you all enjoy. If formatting decides to fuck itself up, then here’s the AO3 link.

It had been just another one of those boring days at camp trying to keep themselves entertained. Skipping out on awful camp activities with poor, crappy resources, and trying to come up with an adventure of their own was nothing short from normal for them.

Nikki had wanted something more fun, Neil had wanted something a little less mind-numbing, and quite honestly, Max just wanted out.

Any time away from David and that overbearing intensity would be a godsend, and so leaving behind the god-awful cross-stitching camp hadn’t been a difficult decision to make.

Sure, they’d have to deal with David’s poor attempts at scolding them later, but they were going to have to hear it whether they disappeared for the day or not. The counsellor had a habit of calling them out on every ‘inappropriate’ thing. For swearing, for being mean, or cruel, or whatever else fell outside of overbearingly happy children.

Newsflash David, you’re telling kids to stop being fucking kids.

Either way, they just needed to get away from him for a while. To be in a David-free zone for just a little longer than the eight hours they slept.

“I miss Saturdays,” Nikki said, finally, as if the day had been cancelled. As if it wasn’t Monday, and they hadn’t only just had the weekend to themselves. “We always get to go into the forest on Saturdays.”

Well, technically they were in the forest now – all the fucking time, really, since they were stuck at this shitty camp – but they were allowed to roam a little further during the weekends.

“We go into the forest all the week,” Neil said, tone bordering on a whine, “I want it to be Saturday so I can go on a computer without someone telling me I’m being antisocial.”

Max shrugs his head, jumps over a log in the pathway and says, “You know why you guys miss Saturdays so much?”

He phrases it by a question, but really, he doesn’t want them to offer any answers. He just wants his friends to wait for the answer, to anticipate the scheme that might be forming in his head.

“I just said why I missed Saturdays,” Nikki says.

“Because the adults don’t have to spend all their time with us,” Max says. “Because we’re not stuck doing shitty activities, and the counsellors leave us the fuck alone as long as we’re not murdering each other.”

Nikki nods emphatically, and for a moment, it’s almost possible to see the memories of last weekend swimming through her eyes. Possible to see how they’d been left alone for a full day until she tried to throw Space-kid across the lake in the mechanised sling-shot she’d had Neil help her make.

“There’s no way we can stop that though,” Neil says after a while, and from the way his nose scrunches, it’s clear that the boy has spent time trying to figure out ways to achieve more computer time, but so far, has come up short. “We’re lucky we only have to do five days a week of activities.”

That’s alright, Max is more of the diabolical genius of the three of them anyway.

“I didn’t sign up for any of these shitty activities,” Max says, “and I’m sick to shit of being forced to do them.”

“…Revolution time?”

A sigh. “No Nikki, we tried that last week, it didn’t work.”

“Part two could be better though.”

Max appreciates the thought, honestly, he does. But the last time they revolted, he’s ended up shirtless, fighting back against the man and his other camp mates, because they’d all thought Erid a better leader than him.

Fuck that noise.

“What we need,” he continues, “is to find a way to make the counsellors agree to leave us alone.”

Nikki’s eyes shine, and she jumps forward as she realises what he means. She shakes his shoulders back and forth, ignoring the scowl she receives as Max tries to push her back. “We change the calendar so that every day is Saturday!”

Well – uh, not exactly what he meant, but the sentiment kind of stands. Sure, why the fuck not.

“Make every day Saturday.”

Neil, always the one who questions the plans, says, “I doubt we can just convince people that every day is Saturday.”

Fuck, honestly, Max thinks that they probably could if they came up with a crazy enough story about inter-dimensional time travel, and Groundhog Day. David would probably buy it, because the man’s a fucking idiot.

Convincing Gwen that the day was just repeating itself wouldn’t be so easy though. What with how often she read those werewolf fanfictions on her phone all the time, she’d go onto her email searching for any updates and immediately know the truth.

Maybe if they found a way to commandeer her phone so she wouldn’t be able to search things all day…?

He needs to stop.

“That’s a mindfuck that can wait,” Max says, “but we so could. No, we get them to leave us alone through blackmail.”

If it were anyone else but the kids at camp, talk of blackmail would be met with horror, or confusion. But here, at Camp freaking Campbell, he receives two looks of equal contemplation, considering how easy such a task would be.

It all comes down to blackmailing three people, essentially.

Quartermaster, who they kind of… don’t really need to? He tends to stick to himself, which is always good because Max is pretty sure that the man is a fucking sociopath.

Gwen, who – well, she doesn’t really care enough about the camp, so it’ll be really easy to blackmail her. They can find something easily enough – it’s always simple to narrow down what she cares about, since she doesn’t feign caring about other things.

The person who’ll be the hardest, will be David.

“Does David even have anything that we could blackmail him with though?” Nikki asks, “he’s like, so shiny and bright.”

Max scowls. “Someone like him, is bound to have some things he’s keeping secret from us.”

He still doesn’t believe that someone like that, someone so bright and happy, doesn’t keep things hidden beneath a layer of faux optimism. He’s probably got some fucked up secret that they just need to figure out.

“Maybe,” Neil says, “but it’s David.”

Max crosses his arms as if to say, he doesn’t care. Their new task of the day, is to spy on David and find a way to blackmail and ruin his life. And oh yeah, get the whole Saturday being every day thing put in place.

Honestly, just messing with David seems like it could have been the initial plan, but the others are more likely to help out if there’s a clear reason behind it.

…Well.

Actually, fuck that, he probably could have just said it. Nikki loves anything chaotic, and Max is pretty sure that Neil is still outraged over the lack of a proper lab at the camp.

“We’re going to find a way to fucking blackmail David guys,” Max says, crossing his arms. “And when we do, every day, will be fucking Saturday.”

Which leads them to now, using the other campers as a distraction, some early set disaster as a distraction, so that they can clearly search the counsellors cabin. The place has fucking air con in here.

Max resists the urge to cut the wires of the air con and puts it in mind for later instead. Why the fuck do the counsellors get to be chilled during the evenings when the rest of them are stuck in fucking tents?

Yeah, there’s a bit of a imbalance in the way they’re being treated, and Max isn’t blind to it. This is exactly why he rebels against the man.

“I ask to watch TV and I get told I’m not taking advantage of nature and my surroundings,” Neil says, as he pushes the button, the screen flicking on, greeting them with grey static.

The sound of static is like a bursting explosion, and Max leans forward, past Neil to shut the TV off before anyone hears, before the sound can give them away.

“We’re meant to be being stealthy Neil,” Nikki says, and from her, it seems almost hypocritical. Although – well, she is okay at being stealthy sometimes, he supposes.

“I don’t understand why the sound was turned up so high though,” Neil says. He pauses, “I mean, your hearing doesn’t go that bad by twenty.”

Who knows, Max thinks. His twenties are an entire lifetime away and he’s not really thinking about the quality of his hearing.

“Right,” Max says. “But we’re here for blackmail material, not a hearing test Neil, jeez.”

Neil just gives him a look, and says nothing.

But nah, loud TV isn’t a blackmail opportunity. Max reckons that Gwen turns it up so high so she can block out the sound of the camp when she’s not got to deal with them – or even to just block out David.

“Who cares,” Nikki says, and points towards the drawers by each bedside. It’s easy to tell whose side of the room is which based by which side has more sentimental crap in it.

David’s side has a photograph of the camp that’d been taken at the beginning of the summer, everyone lined up and pretending that they were happy to be in the photograph. It’s such a fake photo, but still the man has it framed, on the drawer, beside his alarm clock.

Gwen’s side doesn’t have an alarm clock, but maybe that’s because she’s sane and not a horrible morning person like David is. Always waking them up at ungodly times when quite frankly, he’d much rather they all get to sleep in.

“Nothing blackmail-y yet though,” Nikki says. With little regard for personal space, she pulls open the drawers, rifling through in a way not unlike a raccoon going through the trash.

“We’ll find something,” Max promises, standing beside her to peer into the drawers. Sometimes Nikki overlooks things that aren’t cool, or dangerous, and Max wants to make sure they don’t overlook anything.

“You keep saying that,” Neil says, “but what if we don’t find any blackmail material?”

Max pauses. Considers it. Then:

“We’ll make blackmail material then.”

Neil nods his head, as if this is perfectly logical, and not simply a dick move. Whatever, they want their Saturdays and there’s nothing else to do in this fucked up excuse for a camp anyway.

Max goes to open his mouth, pauses. Then, with the urgency of a thief knowing there’s a cop nearby, he grabs the sleeves of both Nikki and Neil, shoving his friends down and under David’s bed.

Hitting his head as he shuffles under, Neil lets out a small groan. Max resists the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up, since he also, should be shutting the fuck up.

Footsteps echo as the cabin doors swing open. Except, it doesn’t really swing open, but rather, is thrust open with far more energy than necessarily. David then, because Gwen would never open the door with such energy.

David’s voice follows suit.

For some reason, there is a hint of stress – not unhappiness, but an urgency that he shows sometimes, whenever there’s a task he wants to start but they’ve hit time delays. Which is strange, because Max hasn’t ever thought of David as someone who knows what urgency means.

“Of course, I didn’t forget,” David calls, and then, after the door closes, his voice quieter: “Oh dang, I can’t believe I forgot to pick up the flowers.”

Flowers?

Max shares a look between his friends. David doesn’t usually pick up flowers, but rather, heads into the meadows to pick his own. He’d done it when they’d heard one of the women in town were ill, and another time when he’d –

Oh god, he’s totally got a date, right?

David’s a fucking romantic like that, of course he’d want to give someone flowers. God, even if they don’t have any

Their camp counsellor grabs his phone from his pockets, dials a number and holds it up to his ears. It’s impossible to hear the dial tone from under the bed, so Max reckons he’s going to have to find a way to infer everything from just David’s side of the conversation.

Not that it’s very difficult to do. David doesn’t really hide conversations.

“Oh hi Mr. Foster, it’s David, from Camp Campbell.” There’s a pause, and then, sheepishly, as he rubs the back of his neck, “yeah, I completely forgot the pick up for the bouquet was yesterday, I was caught up with activities–”

Another pause.

“You didn’t hold the bouquet back even the extra da–” David runs a hand through wispy red hair, “yeah, I know you don’t hold them back for customers who don’t pick them up but this is me – you did my wedd-”

Max has to slap a hand over Nikki’s mouth to stop the noise that builds against her tongue. Beside him, Neil leans up to pinch himself. David having had a wedding implies marriage – and who the fuck would marry that asshole?

“No, I know. I know. Can I get a bouquet made quickly then?” Another pause. “I understand it’s extra, but it’ll be our anniversary, and I–”

For a moment, there is silence. Then, a long, relieved silence is breathed into the air, almost like a dying gasp, almost like a gulp of someone who’s forgotten how to inhale.

“You’re the best sir,” David says, “-yeah, if you still have those lilac peonies that we had at the wedding, I just know she’ll love them. Yeah, thanks sir. I’ll pick them up tomorrow morning. No delays this time.”

The phone call must end, because David slips it back into his pocket, takes a moment to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt.

“That’s all dealt with then,” he says, “now back to today’s activities!”

Max can hardly keep himself quiet for the time it takes David to leave the cabin. He doesn’t know how the others manage it. They wait until the door is closed again, until they hear footsteps fade away into nothingness.

Then, slowly, the three campers slide out from under the bed.

“What the fuck was that?” Max says.

“David never mentioned being married before,” Nikki says, “I wonder if his wife knows how to fight a bear! I’d only marry someone who could fight a bear.”

Neil doesn’t say anything. When Max looks at him, the boy shrugs his shoulders, as if there are no words to decipher how the knowledge has thrown him.

“No, but seriously,” Max continues, crossing his arms. “Who the fuck would marry David?”

It looks like they’re going to have to find out.

#camp camp #cc david #cc max #cc neil #cc nikki #cc gwen #gwenvid #mywriting #fic: match-made #this fuckin thing exists now I guess - hope y'all enjoy it? but who knows #I just found the concept fun

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raguna-blade · 5 years

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Revolutionary Girl Utena Live(ish) Reaction Episodes 8-11

So it's a new year, and I'm gonna continue this, cause its' fun. Had a brief break cause of the holidays. And doing so, I figure i'm gonna do a thing where I make up a nice cleaned up version of these cause if nothing else I like organizing my thoughts. So Control F or whatever your find function is for the cleaned up version if that's your thing. It'll be under Overall Thoughts per ep. Or you know, you're me and you're going back through this for validation for whatever nonsense you say later.

Episode 8

Curry huh? And another recap? uh....

enmy remains trifling

hey wait egg time already?

Danger? Really?

Body swap? Also egg time is goofs

throwin hands????? anthy?

Yeah nanami it is ridiculous

JERSUS TOGA

nanami you idiot

She just fucked off to india to get some weird back alley spice

Shadow girls can you please, just please for a single episode.

ANTHY YOU LYING. Never been good at sports and you did that leap apparently pretty well? What the fuck.

Also, the switching thing here is mad suspect considering the end theme thing (and I suppose the opening.

Utena as Anthy : I don't want to be a sacrifice of the rose seal.

Anthy As Utena: I'm super down staying like this actually.

Like..This is just details that

Uh..Uh saionji what. The implications are strong here. Also, Douche canoe he is, but he's a romantic apparently? UUUUH. Exchange diary.

Is the “A” plot a distraction? Like for real.

Also she took that elephant to the dome.

I'm not sure how to take this personality switch. Like the minds thing whatever, but if it's just the personalties but not the person so to speak, hold on

WHAT THE FUCK. These elephants for fucking real?

Anyway, if they're just personalities altering the “person” it's uh...Interesting. I'm not sure how to take that til I get more info. It seems like a thing.

Also, Saionji apparently legit has feels for Anthy he's just...mad dumb about expressing it? Like he's pulling a lot of Badboy Romance Tropes here but...not...in a badboy romance. Which kills his behavior entirely.

Killed his Soul AGAIN. Damn.

Who's the divine justice for? Like it doesn't seem for nanami. Who fucked up. Presumably between anthy and utena.

Anthy what the actual fuck are you doing. Are you using gunpowder?

Homie, this isn't twilight, go home saionji.

Anthy as Utena(????) you trolling. So hard.

Saionji get's zero respect but dudes dedicated I'll give him that. Fitting for bad boy romance lead.

Uh...Wait, actually, are they all romance leads? Common ones in one way or the other. They are on the student Council so...Hm. I don't read enough romance stories of the variety I think but it seems to fit? I'm not sure what juri would be in that case.

Anyway, if this Episode Turns out to be a key for understanding things I'm gonna be pissed. Just a little.

Overall Thoughts: So this and the other “filler” episode is, especially after finishing my last ep in the session, read as anything but despite the obvious uh...antics on display. Like...

Ok, so the whole thing with the ending which frames Anthy and Utena as kinda the same (or rather exactly the same, except one's in red and the other pink) makes this whole episode feel like it's basically some kind of key for understanding everything else because it's simple times. It's goofy hilarity with Nanami that's the A Plot right hahahah....

Except the personality swap between the two of them is like...The implication here is that they swapped minds fully, and given the level of fairy tale bullshit that is at play constantly in this series so far it may well just be magic brand magic and we're supposed to roll with it. Ok. Fair.

Except...The thought that sits in my head is again, Anthy and Utena seem to equal each other. Hell I point it out slightly later that there's definitely this yin yang thing going on in the opening with the two which is so blatant as to be meaningless because Hah Yeah these are our two leads obvs and they're important to each other so hahah don't worry about or think about it check out these SWEET SWORDSMANSHIP MOMENTS FROM EVERYONE LOOK AT THE BUDGET AND COOL HORSES AND CASTLES HAHAHA.

But ok, if it's a Yin Yang thing, yes they're not the same but they have elements of each other within eachother. So if it's just a personality swap but not an actual soul swap thing, that is, Anthy is just acting like Utena's personality is in her, and Utena is just acting like Anthy's personality is in her it paints this picture of Utena and Anthy as having a lot going on under the surface. I mean obviously Anthy is fucking pissed at Saionji. That was really really evident in episode one because if she's just being submissive rosebride I do what i'm told and I do what i'm told I do what i'm told, the very very very sharp dig of “We're Just classmates” is fucking brutal unnecessity. And given that she DOES know what he feels for her, and he's still acting like that, her being vindictive(or just brusque really, he's being an ass full bore) is like...absolutely reasonable.

Her Slapping back and about to throw hands with her tormentors? Who wouldn't want to right?

But then, ok that's Anthy, but what about Utena. If it's just a mind swap, Utena...want's a very defined existence? Like, she wants to just stick to a role? Feels weird, and doesn't quite immediately jive with her cause that seems against her operations right? Except, as this episode so kindly reminds us (for at least the third time in 8 episodes which seems excessive. I might be forgetting one or two) Utena's whole thing coming to this school is I want to play the Role of the Prince, whatever that actually means. Playing the Rose Bride would be no real difference, except it's way more submissive.

So that aside, Saionji saying he's in love with Anthy (and that seems to be something he at least believes to be true. He honestly seems more into Toga. Like for real for real, all the imagery of those flashbacks reads not just as close buddies, but as I am romantically down with you Toga my guy. Him being Bi is probably the easiest answer, and he just drifted away from Toga for a while. Saionji clearly sees him as a friend and rival, although it's seemingly not reciprocated at the moment.

But the thing, the thing that's kinda weird to me, is that if he does legit have feelings for her, I was struck with this odd vibe that he's playing at being a romance lead. Specifically, a Bad Boy romance lead. And doing so SPECTACULARLY badly. Homeboy is sitting here busting out poetry (unless my brain is being a dumb and i'm somehow overlaying him with Tatewaki Kuno from Ranma which ok, weird but alright) but...

Ok, if he is playing at being a Badboy Romance lead, that actually explains his behavior for how he was treating Anthy, especially if he's legit in his feelings for her? Possessive, Radiates Danger, Engages in Creepy Behavior, is a bit of a dick, etc. It lines up with Being a Bad Boy, except that the way that those usually work out in fiction, as I understand it, they're not usually like...gonna hit you. That breaks the fantasy. But...That's him fucking up the archetype. It doesn't fit for him. He doesn't understand what he's doing in that archetype.

Like yes, abusers and the like can care and still be absuers cause fucked up behavior and motivations don't need to match in the least, but it still feels odd that a man who probably literally could have done any number of fucked up things has...an exchange diary with the girl he says he cares about? And it's not like he's unaware of how submissive/passive she is, his exchange diary actually kinda reads like Utena's Anthy is A Real Girl! Activities*. He wants her to be active part of whatever their relationship is and...Eh.

But ok, if he's that, It suggests the rest of the student council, and duelists in general, would fit into a given archetype right? Toga is clearly the super cool intelligent superman student council president, Juri is basically charisma max Jock, Miki is the cute nerd, Nanami is the Ojou villainess type, Utena is...Basically the Hero type, just morals, strains to upset the status quo, Has the Cool Original Uniform.

And they all kinda fit into those pretty thoroughly, kinda like they're trying to (to varying levels of awareness)

Anyway, I'll hit on some of the other stuff in the next Ep. It's a bit more relevant there I think.

*See Me In Episode 11

Episode 9

I just realized they're doing some kinda yinyang thing in the opening so

R V G FIGHT.

Pretty tense there. Toga went straight for the heart which i'm sure means nothing.

Old Friends? Phrasing seems uh...odd? Unsure if it's dub things or actual subtext. Or both.

Dude you really got beef with a monkey? No, utena.

Being a huge dick. As is tradition.

10 Years.

Saionji: Actually love her (said) but

This is mad gay. Like the lighting, the silhouette. Saionji you're sublimating something here.

Music, Silhouettes.

...Silhouettes show truth? uh.

They were Utena's folks funeral? Huh. Also, why on earth would Utena be kidnapped? Who she be?

….Three coffins. Uh. Uhhhhhh. Utena, Toga, Saionji? UuuuHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?

Dead utena. Uh.

Toga: Ally to all women. Ok.

...Why is there a third coffin?

Something Eternal huh? And Utena wants to die for reasons understandable.

Find another coffin. Rose Sigils on the coffins. Uh. Uhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Saionji: Hey, this is nuts, we should stop her.

Toga: Nah, I'm gonna Ennable the shit out of this.

Tiny Utena with the White Rose?

Saionji: Did he do something to her?

Toga: Nope

Uh....

Anthy: Something Eternal in the castle. I want to go there.

Also impressive grip strength considering. Flat.

Does Toga Remember this or...? I can't be sure. Saionji certainly didn't recognize her, but he wasn't like right on top of the trauma child.

Toga white roses? Uh? Uhhhhh. I think he definitely remembers. But questions abound.

Ufo's shadow girls? Shadow girls having flesh is deeply concerning.

TRUE FRIENDS ARE JUST FANTASIES. OK.

And UFO's broke, so that's probably not great. Who's getting the Revelations today.

That is the fakest voice toga what the fuck

Badboy Saionji: We're Gonna get the eternity.

Also, I just realized they (saionji and anthy) have color inversions going on which is making me kinda wonder if they're related in some way?

Just slap the shit out of him that's fair.

Ok, so Saionji didn't(?) do the dumb thing. Ok,

that is...a coffin. That he's 100% obssessed with. With Anthy (Utena) inside.

He's looking like he kissed his own mom right now, goin full oedipus in the holy shit revelations here.

Castle is crumbling, falling down. So...Eternity is Fake. Ok. Sure. Didn't shadow girls say that?

Castle Immediately tried to kill him. Crushed his soul 1 time too many there I suppose.

Utena, meanwhile, dove super deep into saving anthy which...diving deeper into the fantasy?

Yeah, they all just saw things.

Saionji: WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED WHATS GOING ON?

Bro, me too.

Ok, if the two are reflections, does Anthy and saionji both got some deep illusory bullshit going on? Are they both freaking out?

Toga, saving the day, and Saionji, tried to kill Utena with a sword. so. Ok.

Saionji Expelled? Toga, fool for thinking they're friends?

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE?

Overall Thoughts: I touched on a bunch of the Saionji stuff I wanna talk about in the last episode review, but the thing I kinda want to look at here is well...

Ok, Now the colors probably don't mean anything, but there was this moment that Saionji and Anthy were in the same shot and I suddenly realized they're color flips of each other. Purple hair green eyes, Green Hair Purple eyes, which ok that's interesting.

So we already have Utena Reflecting on Anthy, and hey, there's Zero Reason, absolutely negative number reasons why that wouldn't necessarily be the case with any and all of the rest of the duelists to some degree or another.

And hell, the fact that we keep flipping back and forth between Utena and Anthy in Coffins, there being (for some weird ass reason) a third entirely unrelated coffin for Utena's folks funeral, why the fuck not right?

So ok, Anthy and Saionji mirror each other which...Ok. If the Personality Swap from Episode 8 thing holds, The two actually share some pretty dickish actions. They can be cruel and petty and just antagonistic to things that don't quite jive with what they want. Saionji with Anthy not being...whatever he's expecting out of her, or Utena butting in. Anthy with the girls who keep fucking with her and Saionji.

They both seem to be utterly STUCK on the Rose Bride thing, although from different angles of Possessing the Rosebride and being the Rosebride, and the kind of weird shaping of the Rosebride thing that's going on.

Saionji is treated as a joke by the student council, especially after he get's kicked out, which ultimately ends with him being someone who is generally wanted but ends up ultimately exiled from society. Which mirrors with Anthy as someone is is wanted, but doesn't seem to have ANY kind of actual tangible bonds with anyone.

And, for this last one I have ZERO evidence on the Anthy end, but the suggestions are uh..interesting. Saionji in this episode, as suggested by the shadow girls at least in part, is deeply deeply invested in a fantasy of some kind, one that ultimately leaves him crushed and rather empty, further exiled from people who could or do care for him and that he cares about. Which if we're going with the property sliding across and He's a Foil for Utena (which I think is definitely true in some ways) suggests bad things for her down the line.

Episode 10

Saionji's a joke huh? He's taking it well.

Toga WOW. WOW YOU FUCKING DOUCHE. STRAIGHT IN THE FIRE HUH.

EGG TIME.

So, thing about eggs, that includes whats inside it right? so...Revolutionize yourself right? Right? That's obvious right?

Oh new duelist. Cool cool.

Utena getting slapped. By Nanami. With Utena being hella submissive. (EPISODE 8 FLASHBACKS INTENSIFY)

maybe a girl can't be a prince. THERES THAT THESIS. E8 FLASHBACKS

Nanami got her brother a kitty.

Oh damn it is Nanami. Duel Time. I mean we sall it in the opening but you know.

Jesus Toga, please stop being

OH GOD NANAMI NO. NOOOOOO NOPE NO.

Toga: We ain't kids no more. Shit don't fly.

Nanami: Emotionally devastated.

Is that Miki's sister?

Hey, what happened to the cat?

Juri: Hey, Serious Business, what the fucks up with the duelist?

Toga is perpatrating as badly as nanami actually. He's just less immediately obvious about it I guess.

Goddamnit there's Anthy's next slap. Jesus. Legit, who hasn't at this point. Is this a theme? IS THIS A THING?

Jesus, he's just playing all of this to piss her off? What the fucks up.

...Did nanami kill the cat. Uh...Uhhhhhh.

Ring is an engagement ring. Wait, that's a flat out school rule that everyone knows? For real? Uh.

...What the fuck happened with the kitty. Uh...

ITS TIME. ABSOLUTE DESTINYYYYYYYYYYYY

I just realized the kinda weird framing with Anthy dressing up utena kinda looks like her opening her legs up with the way it get's framed and I'm not sure if that's me just kinda over reading things or if that's a thing.

Nanami's duel outfit is SICK. Also, a yellow alt color of utena.

Actually. ACTUALLY? Is...Is Nanami like an Utena Alt color? That can't be right. Actually looking at them right next to each other they're...straight up alt colors of each other. Not to mention Nanami's my prince thing mirrors Utena.

She just HOT pulled a knife. Oh she's About to fucking hot MERC utena, going for death jessus.

They're supposed to be around the same age too for that matter right?

She absolutely killed that cat and it's...

With her hair down she does look like an utena alt color even more.

Why's the duel music still going after the duel finished. Jesus. This wasn't a duel with Nanami, it was a duel with Toga, and I think Utena Hot lost it out and out.

Overall Thoughts: Well the Big thing I'm paying attention here are two. First the simpler one.

The Egg has to break the shell of the world to be born right? I'm paraphrasing badly, but the thing is the way they keep phrasing that is that the World is the Egg, but the egg isn't just the shell right? It includes what's inside of it. Which if that's the case, mixed with the way that duels work out being more a clash of ideals than of actual tangible skill, the revolutionize the world bit seems to be referring to them themselves, that is the duelists.

Alternatively, the Bird Referenced, the thing being revolutionized is Anthy. Which...Is an interesting line of thought. Given the Duels as a whole are basically choosing who her fiance will be, that'd imply that ultimately this decides the way that Anthy would come to develop? Or how she chooses to develop? Which ok if so, and the way that Ideals seem to be at play, Suggests...What? Dunno. Need more info, which will be delivered later.

But the other thing here, continuing the mirroring thing, which might be me reading too deeply, but I think not and even if it is Whatever I'm having fun.

THE ENTIRE NANAMI DUEL felt like a Mirror Match.Heck, Nanami dressed like an alt color of Utena, and especially once her hair got undone she looked even more like an alt color of Utena. They're only about a year different in age, and her brother seems to be her Prince type, and he drops the ring on her like an engagement ring, and she basically says I fight like my brother because he's my ideal.

Which is a weird thing since right now it's not going...too far. I'll have to see how it shakes out, but if the mirroring thing continues, the fact that the moment she lost she basically said nope fuck that, Knife Time, was...Concerning. It says real concerning things with Utena.

But it also says other interesting things then, because if Nanami is supposed to be some kind of Alt color Utena, similar in ambition goals and the like, if more outwardly girly to Utena's princey thing, their relationship with Anthy is uh..

Uh...

Well put simply, Utena is fucking up big and dramatic with Anthy, and she doesn't realize it at all or care because she can't see it for what it is. Nanami actively tries to undermine Anthy, and does some fucked up things to her. Which..Makes me wonder about the Divine Judgement thing from Episode 8 which, damnably, seems to be forming some kind of key here.

Like the way it's frame suggests the divine Judgement being visited upon Nanami is what's being talked about. But ok, Nanami had some bad shit happen to her sure, but...All of that was self inflicted upon her trying to fix what she percieves as a problem. Yes her reasons for doing it are so she can be with her brother, no doubt, but...They're ridiculous. Like, I cannot believe this shit is happening. But

But

If the Target of Divine Judgement/punishment is the Anthy Utena duo, one or both of them are on the receiving end of it. It's not clear how Acting like Utena would be a punishment for Anthy (I'm sticking with it just being a personality swap and not a full mind swap) but Utena who prides herself on being princely and aspires to that being the super submissive rosebride? I could see that being a kind of hell for her. And if the logic of Utena is Undermining Anthy holds out, but the criitcal difference being her ignorance and dishonesty of why compared to Nanami unabashedly saying yes I am fucking doing this fuck you I get what I want no hold barred, it...

Like, Nanami, as far as it goes, doesn't really receive a punishment if we're being honest. Yes she takes a couple of elephants to the dome, and has to be away from her brother and see her thing fail but..The way it's treated by herself and everyone else is basically a LOL THESE THINGS HAPPEN I GUESS HAHAHA. The Utena/Anthy swap meanwhile seems considerably more serious for them (especially considering the Everyone Slaps Anthy thing that seems to legit be a thing. Somehow. Except here Applied to “Utena”), and seems to cause some serious distress.

We'll see I guess.

Episode 11

As I watch this opening more and more, why is anthy like constantly framed like...Ominous as shit? Is it me?

Homegirl is just. Damn. Sure glad NOTHING BAD WILL HAPPEN (I do not trust this series to not have something bad happen to Wakaba. Again.)

Anthy. Are..are you...passive aggressively doing...something

Toga: I can see through the illusions yeah boi.

I do not trust this for an inch. He is abusing the shit out of his framing, like the whole time, and I don't trust.

Toga is “student council prince” archetype. Miki's nerdy student counciler.

EGG TIME

Juri is...Antagonistic But well meaning?

Saionji...I'm not sure he was actually on the stuco. But if so, bad boy.

What....is with the balloons. The color coded balloons.

Miki: Like a Pet Cat.

The Pet Cat that died, got killed.

WHAT IS WITH THESE BALLOONS.

ALSO I SEENT YOU PURPLE BALLOON.

So if the duels are ideal clashes more than actually a matter of direct skill, is this Toga (touga?) trying to fuck with Utena before the fight?

Anthy is a Bird. Ok. And Toga, arguably, being the biggest dick here. We thought it was Saionji, but the trick was he's the red part of the rose.

Anthy shut down REAL quick when being the rose bride was brought up.

Is Utena projecting mad hard onto Anthy here?

Homeboy needs to stop playing these games.

Utena, Stahp. DO NOT TRUST HIM.

Toga, You...DOUCHE. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH

Toga: Oh My B, Shouldn't act that way in front of the rose bride. ALSO DUELING LETS GOOOOO.

Utena: one link forces me to fight him. Meanwhile, rose symbols everywhere, a lot of them brought in by anthy.

Hmmmmmmm.

Utena is hard not understanding something here. I don't know what (rose bride related for sure) but I don't get...WHAT is off here.

Cause thinking about it, Utena's objective with Anthy is arguably the most noble, but she's still not quite treating anthy as a person.

….William Tell Interlude is SUITABLY CONCERNING considering the above thoughts so uh.

Also that was a weirdly specific number. 30K arrows or something?

I just realized that the DARKNESS OF DARKNESS OF LIGHT OF DESTINY OF (INSERT) things seems to show up right around anthy a lot. I'm not super sure if that's a whole thing or just a this episode thing, but...

Is Utena about to get HOT DUNKED? Because I think she is.

Also, I just realized, Utena slid into that pull sword out of rose bride thing right quick and she's never once questioned that.

So yes, Utena has BOOTY but cheeks swordsmanship, which yeah, obvs. Two of the people she beat were actually skilled before this fight, and yet she won somehow.

I don't know how to deal with these lyrics. But Toga is absolutely fucking with her head here.

And She Lost. Decisively. YUP. WELP THIS IS GONNA BE A THING NEXT TIME.

Toga: Hey you don't have to deal with this bullshit anymore.

Utena is doing the EXACT same shit Miki and Saionji were pulling, and Anthy's blank soulless stare is freaking me the hell out. Again.

So, ideals here. But the idea that whoever has a...better grasp of the truth is the victor. Which makes sense that Toga wins here.

Jesus, Soul crush 2.0, except it's on Utena this time. Goddamn.

WELL NEXT EPISODE PROMISES TO BE FUN.

Utena: ITS NOT TRUE. ITS NOT TRUE!

The Anime Revolutionary Girl Utena IMMEDIATELY: MISSING TRUTH ETCETC HOLD ME IN YOUR TRUE ARMS I WANT TO KEEP SMASHING LIES APART

SURE THAT MEANS NOTHING GUYS GGNORE.

Also, no joke, these seem like a Direct response to this episode and I'm not sure how to feel about that.

I want to be hated by lies? Uhhhhh.

Overall Thoughts: So Hey, Here we are in Episode 11 and I want to talk about how Utena and Saionji basically are each other right here.

Like overtly even I think, even if the actions aren't precise clean mirrors to each other which I guess is just how i'm going to be going through this series right now RiP.

But ok, here's the thing. What has been increasingly clear as time goes by is that Utena is fundamentally misunderstanding something about Anthy. I'm not sure fully what it is, but it's clearly Rosebride related, and the thing with the clashing ideals suggests that the.

Actually let me explain that clear like. Right now my read on the Duels is that they are NOT in any way shape or form a demonstration of skill. I Think that's clear through this point, but I'm making it explicit for my own sake. The Victor of the Duel isn't the better fighter. If that were the case, It'd suggest the only ones in the running at all would be Toga or Saionji (Juri should also be in here, but I'm not actually clear how skilled she is compared to those two, and the way they're treated suggests that Toga and Saionji are comparable in pure skill/ability.)

But Utena somehow beat Saionji like three times, Juri and Miki. Miki's whatever, but Juri clearly knows what she's doing, and Saionji seems to be Kendo Team captain so you know. Up there. Meanwhile, Utena explicitly is an amateur.

I'm not saying, in full, that actual skill with the blade is a null thing, but your ideals seems to be the biggest factor over everything else. Presumably, people rocking equally “powerful” ideals would fall to skill with the sword.

Anyway. The Truths that Seem to be critical are Anthy Wants to Be Free of the Rosebride. Ok, so Utena has the right read then right? But then she lost to Toga who seems to be rocking Anthy Wants to Be, or else Considers herself fundamentally to be, the Rosebride, which is something that Utena seems to be denying about Anthy, but is none the less true.

But then, How are Utena and Saionji the same? Well, remember an episode back where I was talking about the divine punishment thing and all that jazz from episode 8?

It hits both of them for mistreating the Rosebride. There is a fantasy going on between Utena and Saionji, and while Saionji's is a bit complicated and unclear I think, Utena's actually is pretty straightforward I think. Utena want's to be a prince. That's her fantasy. The general virtues she want's to possess are great. Good even. But the specific's seems to involve a kind of rides in and saves the day riding in on a white horse thing, where she's the hero and does for some poor unfortunate girl what her prince did to her.

Saionji's meanwhile, seems to be something of him having a genuine reciprocal relationship with Anthy, with him inhabiting the role of a badboy romantic lead while the two of them have feelings for each other. When, really, he doesn't seem to care for her, or at least the feelings that he has for her are considerably weaker than whatever awkward feelings he has going on for Toga (I'm seriously a little fuzzy here, cause it feels like following his most recent defeat he's rocking some kind of clarity? I don't know how it's gonna work out, but I could sorta see him Returning and upsetting whatever the then status quo is.)

But notably, the big thing between them is their staunch refusal to accept what seems to be really true about their relationship with Anthy.

That the end theme seems to immediately pop up as an answer to Utena's reaction feels...Purposeful.

#revolutionary girl utena #liveblogish #In which I just have to accept that i'm probably gonna be looking at foils everywhere for everything #Things Get Spicy #I should really consider getting images but for right now i refuse.#liveblog

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darling-i-fancy-you · 7 years

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I Meant Something Like That - Steve Harrington x Reader

[AN: Based off the an amazing request I received asking for a Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader based loosely off the ‘Cooler’ Episode from New Girl with the first ever Nick and Jess kiss and also one of my favourite kisses in the history of television. You don’t understand the happy dance I did when I received this prompt!

To maybe follow some of this fic you may have to look up the rules to True American, just for the fist couple of paragraphs of this fic if you aren’t familiar.]

You weren’t exactly sure how you had found yourself partaking in the excited games of your younger brother and his friends, upon turning thirteen and suddenly becoming interested in the boys in your classes you hadn’t spent much longer than half an hour in the presence of Dustin or his nerd squad. However something to do with Steve Harrington turning up to your house with a bottle of stolen liquor for you both to share and a promise that it ‘wouldn’t be all that bad’ had swayed you into playing a game with rules that were not all that clear.

‘Okay so remind me again,’ you giggled swaying on the spot, ‘the soda cans?’

‘Are the pawns, Y/N, God!’ Lucas shouted, he was standing on top of a sofa cushion. ‘Whoever’s team drinks all the soda’s on their side first gets a chance at claiming the stack of comic books.’

‘Right!’ You hiccuped and took a sip of your spiked root beer, your eyes lazily glanced over at Steve.

Steve was stood poised with one foot on the sofa armrest and the other on the reclining chair, he grinned as he caught you staring.

‘One, two, three, JFK!’ He shouted.

‘FDR!’ The party responded, each downing the respected soda cans and then picking another up.

Each of you took another step in the weird formation of a circle you had created in the basement of your house. Cushions and pillows lay scattered in between chairs and place mats, providing a safe-haven from the ‘molten’ floor.

‘Iceman, Angel, Cyclops!’ Dustin began to chant.

‘X-Men!’ You laughed, all but Steve and Jane took a sip of their drink.

‘Time-out!’ Wheeler announced, crossing his arms in the shape of a T. ‘I gotta have a bathroom break guys, all this soda is building up in me!’

‘Yeah, me too.’ Muttered Will with a meek smile at the ladies of the group.

You chuckled at Max and Jane’s grossed out faces and bounced back onto the cushionless sofa, moments later your brother plopped down beside you. With glassy eyes you smiled down at him.

‘We got a new rule coming up.’ He grinned. ‘I’m gonna shout one, two, three, and everyone has to put a number up to their heads anyone with a matching number has to kiss in the closet.’

‘Ew gross!’ You exclaimed. ‘What if we have a matching number, doofus?’

‘Gross! No hear me out first!’ He began to explain. ‘We’re gonna make it so Max and I have matching numbers, Lucas is gonna tell her if she holds up a seven no one will match up with her, but I will.’ He purred.

‘You’re a creep, Dusty, you know that right.’ You rolled your eyes at your brothers pathetic antics. ‘So what number should I hold up? I don’t wanna kiss any of your dweeby friend.’

‘Go for a one, you’ll be safe with a one.’ He nodded firmly and patted your shoulder before standing up.

Mike and Will returned to the basement, they where whispering about something and Byers seemed a little out of it.

‘Drinks ready?’ Max smiled wickedly, as though a plan had formulated in her mind. Somehow you didn’t believe your brother would be getting the kiss he so desired.

The squad re-positioned themselves in their earlier positions, you were stood dead-centre of the sofa with Jane to your left and Mike on your right. You watched as Lucas signalled a thumbs up to Dustin, an affirmation that their plan was supposedly in action.

‘One, two, three!’ Dustin called out, many of the members looked on confused.

Jane held up a five to her head, Mike a three, Lucas a nine, Dustin a seven, Max a ten, and Will a four. Steve looked at you in bewilderment before copying your number, a one.

‘Steve, no!’ You grumbled as heat rose to your face.

‘Lucas, what the hell man?’ Dustin accused.

‘Sorry, man.’ He replied sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders.

‘What?’ Steve questioned, he swayed slightly from the top of the chair. ‘What does it mean, do we drink?’

‘No you ki-’ Lucas began.

‘How about we just forget that round?’ You suggested and wished the couch would swallow you whole right about now.

‘Nah-uh, Y/N’ Dustin scolded. ‘It’s the rules. You guys gotta kiss and we all get to drink.’

You looked over at Steve with apologetic eyes, from the right you heard Mike snicker, a swift elbow to his shoulder saw him lose his balance and he fell into the ‘lava’.

‘Oom-pah-pah!’ The rivalling teams announced and took swigs of their drinks.

‘Y/N, we’re on the same team!’ Mike grumbled, you looked at him with a snarl.

Pleadingly you looked at Dustin, then Lucas, then Will and Jane and Max, all of them responding with a small smile and a shrug of the shoulders. In frustration you groaned and jumped off the sofa.

‘Oom-pah-pah!’ The teams announced again and then once more as you dragged Steve off the reclining chair and towards the closet door.

‘C’mon, Harrington.’ You said softly.

The closet was warm and small, a clothes peg dug into your shoulder blade as you backed against the wall, Steve chuckled earnestly.

‘This is your fault, you know.’ You smiled despite the situation.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Steve, you did, in fact you really did. He was handsome, kind, funny, and you and him had become quite good friends over the course of the past year. It was weird at first, you had to admit, that he spent so much time with your brother and his dumb friends, but Dustin looked up to Steve and it wasn’t hard to see why.

Lonely nights babysitting a bunch of pre-teens had now become nights spent laughing with Harrington as he dished out advice to the boys and warned the girls to stay away from boy’s like Max’s brother, Billy.

Other nights you’d sit together in the living area listening to your records, whilst the boys took claim over the kitchen playing Dungeons and Dragons, those nights were your favourites.

‘It’s always my fault.’ Steve replied with mirth in his voice. ‘It was my fault when the T.V blew out, it was my fault when Tews escaped, oh and it was my fault when you spilt that entire can of root beer all over the carpet.’ He grinned.

‘Shut up.’ You muttered, pushing back on his shoulder. ‘Maybe we should just suck it up and french a little.’

Steve coughed, his next breath caught in his chest by surprise.

‘Sorry,’ you apologised, ‘I just mean, maybe we should just get this over with. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.’

‘Okay,’ he laughed, ‘but don’t say lets suck it up and french a little.’

‘Right.’ You laughed.

You could feel the ends of your limbs tingle with anticipation, your heart practically beating against your rib cage desperate to escape. Steve let out a low breath and licked at his lips.

‘What are you doing?’ You questioned with a laugh as his head moved in towards yours.

‘I’m licking my lips?’ He explained as though it was obvious. ‘D’ya want kiss dry lips?’ His brow arched in confusion.

‘Uh-’ you stuttered. ‘No I guess not.’

‘Okay, so I’m licking them to make them better.’ He licked them once more. ‘Shut up.’

‘Don’t tell me to shut up.’ You argued and pushed at his chest.

‘Y/N.’ He groaned. ‘I thought we were just gonna do this and get it over with.’

‘Okay, we are!’ You exclaimed and reach your hands to curve around the back of his neck.

Instinctively Steve’s body curled into yours, you were chest to chest, nose to nose, hip to hip. He smelt like the rum you had been sharing all night, mixed with the recognisable scent of his aftershave. His hands fell softly against your waist and heat radiated from his palms.

Was he nervous? You questioned internally.

‘Are you a tonguer?’ Steve whispered.

‘What?!’ You whipped back at him. ‘A tonguer?’

‘I don’t wanna put my tongue in your mouth if you’re not.’ He explained.

‘Steve, just kiss me.’ You sighed exasperatedly.

‘Fine.’

‘Do it then.’

‘I’m doing it.’

‘Are you guys done?!’ There was a thud against the door, it sounded like a shoe.

‘It’s been like 10 minutes guys!’ Shouted Sinclair.

‘I swear to God, Steve, if you’re making out with her I’ll kick your ass.’ Came a cry from Dustin.

With a groan Steve pulled away from you and pushed himself back against the wall, he rubbed a hand over his face pulling his facial features down with it. You looked at him and saw the flushed skin of his cheeks and his dark eyes staring at you softly.

‘I can’t kiss you, Y/N.’ He sighed. ‘Not like this.’

His own eyes widened at his last statement.

‘I mean- you know- like-’ Steve stuttered. ‘Like we can’t kiss like this, like at all, right?’

His eyes pleaded with you to understand and his hands fumbled for the door handle.

‘We’re done.’ Steve called out as he took a step out of the closet.

The cool air of the basement hit your face in relief, you blinked back at the bright lights and took a step out of the closet yourself. Steve was already back in position, a drink in his hand and gaze that avoided catching anyone’s eyes.

The game continued on almost uneventfully for the rest of the evening, yourself and Mike Wheeler actually managed to win the game when Steve started a round of ‘finish the quote’. Unfortunately for the rest of the kids only yourself and Steve had managed to see Terminator so when he started off the quote:

‘Come with me if you want to-’

You excitedly screamed ‘live!’ and downed the last can of soda. Mike tackled you as he realised the bounty of comic books stacked on the coffee table were now officially his and you smugly smiled to yourself.

Half an hour later you were rounding up a bunch of sugar-high kids and sending them out of the door to their rides home, it was getting late and tomorrow was a school day. Tipsy from the quarter bottle of rum you had consumed you lazily picked up the empty soda cans and deposited them into a trash bag.

Your silent partner Steve Harrington helped, he scooped up the empty boxes of pizza and made his way over to you.

‘Y/N.’ He started.

‘Steve.’ You smiled and stopped him, he dropped the pizza boxes into the trash can. ‘You can go you know, I’m fine cleaning the rest of this up.’

‘Now you know I can’t do that, Y/N.’ He smiled and picked up a few stray cans from under the coffee table.

The once loud and messy room was slowly beginning to look a little bit more like itself, cushions had been picked up from the floor, chairs had been placed back under tables and sweet wrappers and soda cans had been removed. You turned to look at Steve, he had perched himself by the stairs of the basement, ready to leave once you confirmed the place was officially tidy.

‘Thanks.’ You smiled softly and made your way over to him.

‘Anytime.’ He grinned back.

You reached for handrail before a voice and a hand stopped you in your tracks.

‘Y/N.’ Steve whispered before spinning you around and into his chest.

In one quick motion his lips were on top of yours and his hand had curled into your hair. On instinct you flung your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper as he drew every last breath from your body. His tongue ran over your lips and you readily parted them, the sweet taste of rum and coca-cola spread across your tongue. His hands moved to grip at your waste and you felt for a moment your feet leave the ground, then he pecked at your lips, once, twice, and then it was over.

‘I meant something like that.’ He whispered breathlessly

[A/N 2: I LOVED WRITING THIS! It will always be my favourite Ness moment! I did proof-read this as I was writing it but in a couple of hours when I’ve had my break from my laptop I’ll do another quick proof-read! Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!]

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things #stranger fic #fan fiction #dustin henderson #henderson!reader #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #jane hopper #mike wheeler #will byers #steve harrington fic

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j-esbian · 7 years

Text

Second First Date

happy holidays to @osobhi~ it seems like we had each other for the @mlsecretsanta exchange! I hope you like this! it’s post-reveal alyabug :3

on ao3

Words: 2.4k

Her parents were hosting a party to celebrate New Year’s Eve, and Alya was bored out of her mind. She was the youngest there; none of her parents’ friends had brought their kids, and Ella and Etta were down for a nap before midnight. Her parents had felt the need to start it six hours before midnight, so everyone could have dinner together, and the party was dragging on forever.

It probably would have been a little more bearable if she could leave and hang out with people she actually knew, but she had nowhere to go. After a while, she resorted to sitting in the corner of the couch, eavesdropping on nearby conversations and texting her friends.

From: Mari <3

How’s the party going??

Babe I’m so boredd are u sure u can’t come over

I wish :(( my parents won’t let me though

FuCk that

Wait bu t

I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind if ladybug crashed the party

HmmMmMmmMMmmm

Lmao

No but they’re dragging me to church

At midnight

Gross????

Why cant u just go in the Morning

B/c apparently?? We’re still open tomorrow??

Double Gross

Its ok I will send u a cyber smooch at midnight

Aww <3

Me too

Ugh gtg

Love you Alya

Ily2 mari

I’ll see if I can come by tomorrow

Gotta get me some sugar u know

Oh my goD

Uhh I mean ur dads pain au chocolat

Like ur cute but

Not everything is about u smh

YEAH OK SURE

;)

“Ooh, are you texting a boy ?” someone near Alya giggled tipsily. She looked up, the smile rapidly evaporating off her face.

“My girlfriend, actually,” she said tersely.

“Oh.” He didn’t seem to know what to say, and went to take a gulp of wine instead. He looked down at the empty glass in his hand, then back at Alya, eyebrows raised. He tipped it towards her with a shamefaced smile and sauntered away in search of a refill.

Alya rolled her eyes. She got up and went into the kitchen, where her mother was preparing a round of hors d'oeuvres.

“Oh, Alya. Can you get me the horseradish out of the fridge?” Marlena asked.

“Yeah.” She grabbed the little glass jar from the refrigerator and, while she was in there, nicked a bottle of the twins’ apple juice. She handed the condiment to her mother and surveyed the plates that were already prepared. “Are any of these ready to go out?”

Marlena looked up. “Hmm. Yeah, the vol-au-vents,” she said, pointing. Alya picked them up and headed back out of the kitchen. “Thank you!” her mother called after her.

Alya, however, didn’t return to the party, but took a detour to her room. She closed the door behind her, resisting the urge to lock it, and shucked off her sweater and shoes. She set an alarm on her cell phone--5 minutes to midnight ought to be enough of a head’s up to rejoin the party in time for champagne.

Then she slouched over to her desk and kicked back in front of her laptop. She could still hear the wine-laced chatter and laughter of the party, and slipped on her headphones. Soon, she was engrossed in her computer, and behind her back the hours melted together. She was only pulled out of it, eventually, by two nearly simultaneous events.

The first was that she suddenly realized she was out of food, and when she looked up to confirm that her empty fingers were indeed only chasing crumbs around the plate, she caught a glimpse of her phone screen lighting up in her peripheral vision.

Alya sighed, and scooted in her chair to grab her phone from the pile of blankets it had nested in. To her surprise, it was now a little over half an hour until midnight.

From: Nono

Hey Alya

Wyd

Playing stardew valley wbu

Chillin

U decent?

Like morally or

Pants

Uh why lol

I mean yea but

U got sth planned?

W h a t

Thing

What are you hiding

Nano my man

Ur terrible with secrets

Just come hang out

Ivan’s here

And Alix

Kim’s maybe on his way

Where are u

We’ll come pick you up

Damn thanks

Maybe the real squad goals was the friends we made along the way

Be there in 10

Alya found her shoes and touched up her makeup, humming to herself. She gathered up the remains of her snack and headed to the kitchen. Her mom wasn’t in there anymore, and as she placed her plate in the sink, she heard her parents’ voices in the din of the party.

Her cell phone buzzed with a new text.

From: Alix K.

We’re here!!!

Come otu

im gay

Bitch me too

Come outsid e

Alya ran for her coat, shouting at her parents as she passed through the hallway. “I’m going to hang out with Nino!”

No response. She paused with her hand on the front doorknob and yelled again. “I’m gonna go out with some friends!”

Her mom poked her head around the corner. “Be quiet,” she said in a stage whisper. “The girls are still asleep.”

“Sorry,” Alya muttered. She lifted her hand from the knob and pointed at the door. “I’m going out, though.”

Marlena squinted at her watch in the dim light. “Be back by one,” was all she said. She headed back to the party, and called over her shoulder, “Have fun, sweetie!”

Alya raced down the stairs, and the moment she set foot outside, she was hit by a snowball. She coughed and swiped at her face, trying to see who threw it through the splotches on her glasses.

She heard Alix and Nino laughing, and Ivan said, “Ooh, nice shot.” She finally cleared off her lenses, and saw Ladybug, standing with her friends, and brushing her hands against her legs to hide the evidence of her crime.

“M--Uh, what are you doing here, Ladybug?” Alya asked incredulously.

Ladybug spread her arms wide. “Celebrating!”

Though Alya was bewildered, she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “Don’t you have, like, other things to do tonight?”

“Honestly? No,” Ladybug said, shrugging. “I can’t think of anyplace else I’d rather be right now.”

“Hell yeah,” Nino agreed. “Marinette said you were bored at your house, so we got a crew together. Sucks that she couldn’t come, though.”

“Oh, well,” Ladybug smirked. “Guess she’s missing out.”

Alya stifled a laugh, and changed the subject before it burst out. “I thought you said Kim was coming?”

“Nah,” Alix said. “Turns out he and Max are at a LAN party, so, you know, they might never leave.”

“That’s fair, though.” Ivan scratched his nose. “Did, uh, they say where they were?” Alix glared at him. “What?”

“Never mind them!” Alya said cheerfully, linking one arm with him and the other with Ladybug. She turned to Nino. “Where are we off to?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think that far ahead, honestly.”

They wandered to the end of Alya’s street, looking around. There were people everywhere, and the air around them was full of the sounds of Reveillon in full swing.

“Isn’t your friend’s dad putting on his show at the Eiffel Tower?” Ladybug asked.

Ivan shook his head. “Nah, Mylène’s in Canada visiting family. It’s her dad’s understudy.”

“Still, it could be fun,” Nino said. “Anybody got other ideas?”

They didn’t, so they set off.

Ivan fell back, separating from Alya and falling into step with Alix, and Alya leaned in to Ladybug. “I thought you said you were busy,” she whispered.

Ladybug smirked knowingly. “Come on, Alya, we’re never open on New Year’s.”

“But, then…?”

“I thought we could do something different.” Ladybug leaned into Alya, pressing against her side for a brief second before pulling away again, a coy look slipping onto her face. “You know, something exciting.”

“That sounds just fine to me,” Alya replied.

“Can I just say?” Nino interrupted. “You guys are the worst.”

The others turned around and realized that they had fallen into two lines and Nino, being the odd man out, was left to trail along behind them, alone.

“Aw, c’mere,” Alya said. Nino came up to join her and Ladybug, and she slung her free arm around his shoulder. “There. I got my two favorite people with me.”

“I’m surprised I made the list before Marinette,” Nino commented wryly.

“Your favorite, out of the people here?” Ladybug suggested.

“Okay,” Alix interjected. “That just seems needlessly rude. I mean, we’re right here.”

“Well, shit, man, she’s only got two arms,” Ivan retorted.

“I’m just saying,” Alix grumbled.

“And the sidewalk’s hardly wide enough for five people,” Alya added. “I mean, there’s barely enough space for three of us.”

“I could always carry you if it gets too crowded,” Ladybug suggested.

Alya winked. “Maybe some other time.”

The streets got more congested as they went on, and soon they were forced to walk single-file. Alya led the line, holding tightly onto Ladybug’s hand behind her so they wouldn’t be separated. Alix brought up the rear, but she was tired of trailing behind and jumped onto Ivan’s back instead.

With more people around, Ladybug had expected they would be able to blend in more easily, but just the opposite was true. She kept getting stopped, and people would hand their phone to Alya so they could get a picture. It was infuriating, and after a few blocks they stopped to build Ladybug a disguise.

Alix shed her hat and sweatshirt, while Nino held Ivan’s jacket for him so he could offer Ladybug his flannel.

“It’s definitely too big to fit you,” he said apologetically. “But I figure you can tie it around your waist, because none of us are going to give up our pants.”

Ladybug looked down at her conspicuously crimson legs. “Good call,” she replied, zipping Alix’s hoodie over her suit.

Alya stepped forward and unwrapped her scarf, winding it around Ladybug’s neck. “It’s not much by way of a disguise,” she murmured. “But it really helps pull your whole outfit together, I think.”

Ladybug nuzzled into it. “Mmm. Soft.”

“And you’d better take good care of this,” Alya said sternly. “My girlfriend made it for me, got it?”

“Well, it’s nice.” Ladybug winked. “She’s got great taste.”

Alya crossed her arms and smirked. “Uh, hell yeah , she does.”

“Anyway,” Nino interrupted, glaring pointedly at Alya. “I don’t have anything to give you, because apparently I’m a delinquent. Best I could do is a hat, but you’ve already got that covered, so… We should keep going if we want to get good seats.”

They forged on, although the icy sidewalks and tightly-knit crowds seemed to want to separate them at every opportunity. Alix jumped back up on Ivan’s back, and used her perch to peer over all the people and find a clear path. Ladybug jumped and reached for Alya’s hand when someone spoke, but they weren’t addressing her.

“Hey, kids, it’s cold out. Where are your coats?” a stranger called out.

“Your mom’s house,” Nino and Alix shouted in unison. He reached out behind him, and she high-fived him.

“You know,” Alya whispered to Ladybug, “I think Nino’s upset with us for flirting with each other.”

“What? Why?”

Alya tapped her thumb against the big black spot on the back of Ladybug’s hand. “Gee, I don’t know.”

Ladybug wrinkled her nose. “Oh! Aw. He’s trying to defend my honor.”

“Yeah, and he thinks I’m a slut,” Alya pouted. “Oh, well. I guess I do have a type.”

“Hmm,” Ladybug agreed. “Or, everyone just loves you.” She leaned in to kiss Alya on the cheek.

Alya snickered and danced away, as far as she could without letting go of Ladybug’s hand. “Sorry, Ladybug,” she said, clutching dramatically at her chest with her free hand. “But my heart only belongs to one girl.”

“I, however, am incredibly single,” Alix piped up.

Nino rolled his eyes. “Anyway,” he said loudly, “I’m not sure we can snag enough seats next to each other. We might have to split into a few rows.”

Alya looked up in surprise. “Oh, wow. We’re here.”

“That, my friend, is the beauty of the travel montage,” Nino replied.

The show was in mid-act when they arrived, and was much more than a one-man performance. While the mime was there, and he was center-stage on the ground, the air behind him was full of twisting acrobats, on invisible wires and banners of purple and gold, suspended from the Tower itself.

Ladybug kept Alix’s hoodie and Alya’s scarf, but returned the other pieces of her disguise to their owners. They managed to find a cluster of seats, and Alya and Ladybug were finally--relatively--alone. Ladybug rested her head on Alya’s shoulder and laced their fingers together.

“Hey, Marinette?” Alya whispered after a few minutes. “Don’t you think this is maybe a little… I don’t know, dramatic?”

“I think that’s the point,” Ladybug whispered back, watching the mime wrestle with an acrobat some 10 meters above him.

“No, I mean.” Alya waved her hand, trying to encompass the whole convoluted scheme. “Why was Ladybug out tonight? Why did Marinette pretend to be busy? Why not just come hang out without all the fuss?”

“Honestly?” Ladybug looked up at Alya, wincing slightly. “It’s kind of a publicity stunt.”

“Huh?”

Ladybug was quick to amend her statement. “That is to say, we’re just showing people we’re around even when there’s nothing really going on. Like, you know, we’re people, too.”

“In like a ‘don’t do crime because we’re always watching’ way?” Alya asked.

“More like a ‘friendly neighborhood superhero’ thing,” Ladybug suggested. “Chat’s off somewhere too, probably hanging out with his friends. Anyway, I get to do my civic duty and take you on an awesome first date.”

“I’ve literally lost track of how many dates we’ve had,” Alya said. “But this is definitely not the first.”

“You’ve never been on a date with Ladybug before.”

Alya laughed. “It seems like you’re just splitting hairs.”

“Listen, our real first date was just a study date,” Ladybug countered. “I think it’s natural to want a second shot at that.”

Alya hummed in agreement. “Well, then, this is absolutely an improvement.”

“Yeah?”

As if in confirmation, a spray of fireworks shot out behind the Tower, framing all the performers with a backdrop of red and gold sparks as they launched into their grand finale routine. In the distance, the bells of some unseen church chimed midnight.

“Yeah.” Alya slipped her hand under Ladybug’s chin and rubbed her thumb across her cheek.

Ladybug leaned up to peck Alya on the cheek. “Happy New Year, Alya,” she murmured.

“Happy New Year, Marinette.”

#miraculous ladybug #mlsecretsanta 2k17 #alyanette #alyabug #osobhi #chickenscratch

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