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irrevocableloves · 8 months

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violent delights

twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader

chapter one: the city of forks welcomes you

masterlist ౨ৎ chapter two

summary: y/n swan has lived in forks all of her life, but when she takes her summer-long vacation to california to visit her mother, she returns to a strange new family accompanying the small town.

warnings: swearing, angst

words: 1.8k

a/n: this has been in my drafts for so so long and tbh i haven't written a fanfic since i was 12... and i'm fr 22, but i've ran out of twilight fanfics to read (i've been waiting weeks for one specific one to update and i'm going crazy)... so anyways !! hope you enjoy !!

Opening my eyes, I was greeted with the trees of Forks, Washington. After an almost four hour drive, I could sense that I was nearing my home as the city was nowhere to be found. Instead it was replaced with deep green trees, dim skies, and the small shops that swept by as my dad drove.

I liked Forks, more than I probably should. Everyone here, mostly the kids, sulked about big bright cities where the sun would actually make an appearance. They longed for the liveliness that Forks had never given them.

But me? I secretly adored the quietness of it all. But of course, I had a disadvantage. Every summer I bathed in the sun rays of California, visited the busy cities, the warm beaches, and the overall liveliness that was craved from everyone else. But I was drained. Normally, it would be the opposite from any other person, but I always loved the cold. Ever since I was a kid, my little brain was wired to believe that Forks was almost like Christmas every single day of the year. So, rain, snow, or even ice (even with the ungodly amount of times I've slipped) never had me in too big of a rut.

With my mom back in California, though I loved her to death, was an absolute headache most of the time. And unlike my dad, she hovered. But, it wasn't her fault. The summer is the only time she had me, the rest were reserved with Charlie, which had resulted in this summer's mishaps: she begged me to stay longer. One would think that school would be an easy get out, but she knew the first month was nothing but dry introductions, syllabi, and effortless assignments. It was partly my fault. I was never one to turn her down, perhaps it was guilt because maybe she and I felt deep down that I favored my father more because who could ever turn down a chance to live in the perfect bustling city of San Francisco over Forks.

So I stayed. But now, it's the beginning of October. Thankfully, I was able to get in contact with the school in order to get all of my classes in order, as well as the help of my best friend, Angela, who emailed me all of the assignments. Jessica on the other hand, filled me in on all of the gossip. Her phone calls consisted of talks about her massive crush on Mike as well as the new and "totally weird" (as Jessica put it) family. "Suuupperrr pale, but weirdly GORGEOUS. I mean this Edward guy, he's wow. I swear if Mike doesn't make a move soon... I wonder if I could make him jealous?" The conversations were mostly one-sided, always either complaining about Mike's obliviousness or never catching that new guy's attention.

Now that I knew I was caught up on everything to do with school, all I wanted was to bury myself in bed and prepare for an alarm that hasn't been set in months.

I awoke to the sound of a car honking outside my window, assuming it was nothing, I settled back into my pillows, throwing my purple duvet back over your head for hopefully another thirty minutes of sleep.

"Y/N/N!" I heard my dad's voice accompanied by one of his famously loud whistles from outside of my window. That's when I finally got up and peered over with squinting eyes to see my father coming out of a car that most definitely wasn't his squad car.

Once my vision settled, I saw a green Volkswagen beetle parked in the driveway. No fucking way. I sprinted down the stairs and flung the front door open to see my father with a wide grin, gesturing the keys in front of my face.

"For me? You're joking?" I said in complete shock.

"You want me to be joking? Cause if so I can just bring this right back to Billy and let him sell it to some other geezer."

"No! No! No! I mean... Thank you, dad. Oh my god, how did you guys even find this?"

"Well, consider it a late birthday present. Billy and Jacob found it back in May for your birthday and decided to fix it up for ya, free of charge, but I paid 'em of course."

"Thanks dad and how about we invite Billy and Jacob over sometime and I'll cook? As a thank you?"

"You bet."

Once I parked in front of the school, my group of friends welcomed me with open arms, with Angela and Jessica squealing about how much they missed you and the boys, mostly just Mike, trying to awkwardly hug me.

I knew Mike had a crush on me, since third grade to be exact, which only made it worse for my friendship with Jessica, which made it worse for Lauren, Jessica's bestest friend to have an even better reason to despise me.

The first four classes: English, Government, Trigonometry, and French were surprisingly a breeze thanks to the assignments either Angela or the teachers sent over while I was away.

While at lunch, a new, unfamiliar bunch emerged from the cafeteria doors. They were beautiful... and also extremely pale even for Forks. So, this was the family Jessica was practically drooling over?

"Who are they?" I questioned anyways.

Jessica leans in, being careful to whisper, "It's the family I was telling you about. Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska like last month."

I studied the first girl who walked in, bleached blonde hair, almost black eyes that were almost unsettling, she wore a thin grey coat and a knitted white scarf that matched her icy skin, and a necklace with a large charm that looked to be a family crest of some sort.

"The blonde girl, Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett..." Jessica continued.

More of the family gathered in slowly, the blonde was linking hands with a man with jet black hair, with the same family crest residing on his wrist.

"... they're a thing. I'm not even sure that's legal." Jessica grimaced.

Angela piped in, "Jess, they're not actually related."

"But they live together and all wear that weird creepy crest like some sort of cult. And the little dark haired girl, Alice, she's really weird..."

Despite Jessica's remarks, Alice was the one who caught my eye the most so far and not in a negative way. She reminded me of a fairy almost with her pixie-like hair cut, her style, and the way she carried herself, which was pretty whimsical in a way. Her arms were locked with a man beside her, bleached blonde just as Rosalie was.

"... she's with Jasper, the blonde who looks like he's in pain" Jessica continued on, "I mean, Dr. Cullen's like this foster dad slash match maker."

"Maybe he'll adopt me." Angela giggled.

The last Cullen to enter, I assumed it was Edward, the man Jessica claimed to be weirdly gorgeous and 'wow'. 'Wow' was the perfect word to explain how I felt as he strode down the cafeteria. I couldn't keep your eyes off of him, even as he went past your table, I was oddly captivated by his presence. He had a lanky body, matched with the same pale skin as his siblings, bronze hair and striking smirk. You could've sworn he heard Jessica's whispered remarks from across the cafeteria.

"He's totally gorgeous, obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care." She does. "Anyway, don't waste your time."

"I wasn't planning on it." I looked away before his eyes could find mine and once I did, I felt as if holes were practically burned at the back of my head. Was he staring?

Out of curiosity, I peered over my shoulder, quickly glancing, seeing his eyes on mine and quickly turning my eyes back, slowly hiding behind my hair.

Before I walked into Biology, I shuffled through my backpack to look for the assignments I'd done in your time away, settling them in my hands as I walked through the door.

Greeting Mr. Banner, I handed him my completed assignments that were neatly put together with a paper clip.

"Finally nice to see you Miss Y/L/N, how was your summer?" Being great at biology put you at an advantage, not only for assignments, but because Mr. Banner didn't question much about my month long disappearance, but I couldn't say the same about PE...

"It was good, thank you."

"Well that's great, I'm glad! And I appreciate your completed assignments, not even people attending have it all quite done like you have!" He rambled. "So! Your seat... There's a seating chart, but there should be an empty seat I left for you...,yes! Right there, next to Mr. Cullen." Mr. Banner pointed to the right side of the classroom to the seat next to the Cullen boy.

Edward's eyes once again felt as if they burned through my own, staring at me as if you had wronged him in some way. The hatred in his eyes was well aware, but for what reason?

With each step I took, the more disgust in his features appeared, almost as if he was holding his breath. Did I stink or something? I attempted not to smell myself to see if perhaps I had raging body odor or even a bad breath that radiated from across the classroom. No one else seemed to have an issue besides him.

Once I was sat, I heard him mutter into a cough, but I only made eye contact with his beading black eyes and said nothing at all. He only pushed the microscope towards me slowly, being careful to not come any closer to me as if he would catch something.

I sighed loudly, making my annoyance well known. He only just tensed.

Throughout the entirety of the class, the tension continued. I even considered going up to Mr. Banner and asking to switch seats with someone, but that only sparked the possibility of Mike forcing Eric to switch seats and I honestly couldn't figure out which would be worse. So, I decided to suffer through the entire hour and perhaps learn to suffer the entire year partnered with a man who could hardly even look me in the eye without being utterly disgusted.

At first I was hurt, but the hurt swiftly turned into annoyance once the partner sessions began. He didn't even consult with me, rather he just scribbled as fast as he could, only of what he was able to see through the microscope, only handing it to me after to check his answers. All correct, surprisingly.

Staring at the clock, I was counting down the time until the bell. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Edward had gotten up, practically running out of the classroom before the bell had officially rung.

next chapter

#violent delights #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x you #edward cullen x y/n #twilight #twilight rewrite #twilight fanfiction #edward cullen fanfiction #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #violent delights fanfiction #violent delights fanfic

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lonesome-witching · 8 months

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Mind Control

If I'm honest, I'm kind of excited for this one. Thank you @thepartyfriendship for this prompt. I have never written mind control before so it was a challenge, but one I really enjoyed. And the ending of this one is just amazing. I hope you like it.

You can read my old prompts or send me new ones.

Nancy was acting odd lately. Even Robin realized that, and they had only just gotten to know each other. Or maybe Robin was just seeing things. Because when she talked to Steve about it, he merely shrugged. And Jonathan didn’t seem at all bothered by the outgoing girl that had replaced his girlfriend. Maybe Mike occasionally frowned when Nancy stole money out of their mother’s wallet to buy herself beer with a fake ID, but he hadn’t commented on anything either.

So, maybe Nancy was only letting go because they had recently avoided the end of the world. Or because Max was in the hospital and Eddie was dead. Or because everything that had happened the past few years was over now that Vecna had been shot in the face.

And yet, there was still this uncomfortable feeling that crawled under Robin’s skin whenever she was in the same room as Nancy. Which was a stark contrast with the comfort that she used to feel when she was around the girl.

Robin missed those hesitant glances and the even more hesitant touches. She missed the late night phone calls that had kept her up till dawn for several weeks after spring break. She missed that soft smile that would say ‘I’m not okay either, but one day we’ll both be fine’. She missed the girl that grabbed her hand in the Upside Down. And whatever version of Nancy was now walking into the room with a wine bottle in hand and a bright smile was not that same girl.

“Who wants some?” Nancy asked, holding up the bottle.

“Please,” Steve replied from next to Robin. It was odd that that felt like a stab in the back.

“Yeah, me too,” Jonathan agreed.

“Robin?” Nancy turned her attention to the only other girl in the room. But Robin just simply shook her head. “Okay.” She rolled her eyes.

Robin sank deeper into the couch. There was something about this side of Nancy that was painful to watch. Whenever she looked at Nancy for too long it felt like standing in the Creel house, shivers running up and down her spine as the fear gripped her heart. And this time Nancy wasn’t there to hold her hand, there was no one’s hand to grab because no one seemed to understand.

She looked at Steve who was sipping his drink with a smile and then at Jonathan who put his arms around Nancy’s waist and pushed his head in the crook of her neck as she positioned herself on his lap.

Maybe Robin was just jealous that the girl she liked was in a relationship with someone else. Maybe this was just like Tammy Thompson. Maybe she was traumatized and broken and making up stuff. But maybe Nancy was suffering, and no one was listening.

Robin buried her head in her hands.

---

Nancy had been able to tear herself from her friends. Her hands were clenching around the sink. The mirror showed her own features, yet when she looked at her eyes they were glassed over. It reminded her of a few weeks ago when she had found Jonathan high in Argyle’s van.

She knew something was wrong with her when her memory started to be riddled with black spots. She couldn’t remember putting on the shirt she was wearing. She couldn’t remember pouring herself a glass of wine until she had felt the liquid in her mouth. She wasn’t sure what she had done to make Robin crawl into herself, but she vaguely remembered it being her fault.

She didn’t want to hurt Robin. She never wanted those bright blue eyes to look at her with fear.

Her hands started shaking and she gripped harder. A tear fell out of her eyes.

---

Robin let her fingers drag around the furniture in Nancy Wheeler’s bedroom. It had been awfully easy to excuse herself and sneak upstairs. She wasn’t sure why she was here or what she was looking for exactly. But she knew that sitting at the other end of the couch with Nancy’s eyes fixed on her was too hard to bear.

So, instead Robin had decided to hide out in the bedroom of the girl she couldn’t be around. It might seem like a bad idea to anyone else. But Robin found comfort in the pink walls and the ballerina jewelry box. It reminded her of a hopeful time when she believed Nancy would be her friend and before she had craved for more.

She lifted her hand off Nancy’s desk and walked towards the messy bed. It wasn’t like Nancy to leave her bed like this. Robin sighed and walked over to the nightstand. A notebook lay open and Robin peeked into it. She saw a date scrawled at the top and looked away.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that it must be Nancy’s diary. The one Robin had seen only once before, back in the Upside Down version of this same room. A room with old wallpaper and a mirror that went to a yard sale and high heels instead of guns hidden in the closet.

The only issue was that the handwriting looked different. Robin had seen several notes in the pretty curls that Nancy’s hands were able to draw upon paper. The handwriting in the notebook looked more like Robin’s own. Messier. Almost as if it had been written in a haste.

That was why Robin looked into the book again. Her own worries had escalated. If something was wrong with Nancy it would be in this book. So, despite knowing it was wrong, she read the first lines.

Something is happening. I’m not sure what it is yet.

I can’t seem to remember my own actions. It’s as if someone else is controlling me. The last thing I remember is from a few days ago. It’s Robin’s beautiful blue eyes. They looked at me which such hurt but I don’t remember what I did or said to cause such pain.

I know I should have done something about this weeks ago when it all started. Back when my only lucid moments were when I was around Robin. I should have realized that it wasn’t normal that I only felt like myself around her. But I thought it was just new love and old trauma clouding my own memory.

Robin knew she shouldn’t, she had enough information already, but she turned the page back to a few days before the last entry. The words barely registering as she read the words Nancy used to describe her. Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, precious, cute, handsome.

“What are you doing?” It had been a while since Nancy’s voice had sounded so much like… Nancy.

Robin turned around, still holding the book. For a moment she looked into deep blue and saw Nancy’s fear. Then the corners of Nancy’s mouth curled into a sickening smile and Robin dropped the book. The soft thump it made when it hit the ground was barely audible.

The last words she had read where still swirling around in her mind.

I’m in love with Robin.

#prompts #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance fic #ficlet

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sleepingcup · 1 year

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His reaction to see your lifeless eyes. (part 2)

Characters: Naib Subedar, Eli Clark, Norton Campbell, Mike Morton

Genre: Fluff, before love confession

Part: 1

Naib Subedar

Just like Edgar, he would be ignoring the meet and greet but he has to just to find potential for a competitor once you arrive the manor.

He would be confused at first as to why some people are avoiding you, but when he decided to look directly to your eyes.

Nothing.

He is not evenly phased at one point.

He just blankly stares and sees that it's nothing of a big deal but something tells him that you are reminded him of himself when he was at his bad mood, just expect that he is going to visit you from time to time. Naib will secretly admit that you are almost similar to him but minus the killing, so a wild guess that he got some sympathy towards you. Even if most of the conversation is just dead silence and no friendly conversation, don't worry he will warm up to you just give him the time.

But if he does happen to understand you, he will try to comfort you even if it is clearly not his place to do so his company and leaning to you is the only thing he can do. He gives you free sandwiches during breaks, think of it as his way of comforting you.

If Naib happens to fall in love at some point, was probably you comforting him in a hug or you possible being there for him most of the time. Cook something for him if he is feeling down, anything goes as long as he is comfortable with you.

Before I forget, just give him a heads-up if he wanted hugs. He is well aware about ambush attempts.

Asking permission is the one thing that you can do.

Just don't question his blushing face or he is gonna make you regret it. Also personal conversation is something that he doesn't want to talk about, so please refrain yourself from talking to him to that conversation. The man has too much suffering that he doesn't want to scare you.

Eli Clark

He would notice right away when you appear at the manor, just only sharp eyes to stare and he knew exactly that you are depressed. All he can guess was that he somehow knows that you are often gloomy.

Even Brooke noticed your lifeless eyes at a first glance.

The conversation can be a bit awkward at some point, but if would be replaced by petting Brooke even if she is reluctant to do so. Give Brooke the time to adjust, it's the least that she can do. Things can get awkward at first but the conversation can be replaced by silence or deep conversations.

Don’t worry, you will enjoy spending time with Brooke Rose. Just give her the time to adjust is all.

He is a fiance to someone so making him fall in love is going to be almost impossible.

But it would not stop him from making you smile at some point so that is his mini goal.

If Eli manage to make you smile even if it's a simple bit makes him happy.

To truly make him fall in love is to deepen the bonds you have with him, give him the comfort and happiness that he truly yearns for that his fiance wouldn't. Give him something that he never has before, do something to make him go out of his comfort zone to kiss you.

But if he stays loyal to his fiance please don't pressure him, give him the time that he needs to enjoy his time with you.

It's the least that you can do.

Norton Campbell

Funny he would be similar to Naib and Edgar, however, he isn't in the mood to notice at some point. The differences is that paying him money and he would simply know by analyzing your face, getting to know about him is pretty much not easy?

If he happens to take an interest to you, expect that he would bother you for a while. But also expect that he would be a bit rude from time to time.

Give Norton some time to get used to you.

How he would understand is the main question. The answer is that he would know once you and Norton understand each other.

Lifeless? Norton is just gonna bother you 24/7.

After all he has handle the worse case scenario before.

Need a hug, just get used to Norton's strong arms as he lays his head on your chest. Just don't question him, it makes him comfortable that way. He also won’t mind some hair ruffling so that’s a bonus.

If by any chances that you smile.

He will find a way to make you smile even more, be aware of his anti-personal space from time to time.

And he will share donuts with you so...that’s a plus of his affection.

One thing tho, just get ready for Norton to appear to your room for cuddles.

The man has nightmares of his past from time to time, just don't ask why.

Mike Morton

It would take Mike a while to noticed your lifeless eyes, what he would expect from you was a smile. But when you make a fake smile of all places he knew instantly that your are faking it.

If there is one thing that Mike would know, is that he can tell the differences between the smile and fake smile.

So consider making you smile was his goal.

Even if it failed like a lot.

But he didn't give up on you, he continued to give you hugs and jokes from time to time. You just need to be patient about it with him even if he isn't going to leave you alone.

But if there is a time when you accidentally compliment him or flirt with him with the right words, his face is priceless to see. But the same method won’t work the second time, unless your lucky.

Mike is probably the man who is used to anti-personal space literally hugs and whatnot. But if he sees your smiling but the lifeless eyes is still there, it still makes him happy that he is making any progress.

Your smile is something that is beautiful for Mike to see, the only difference is that your eyes are not lifeful as it should be.

It makes him addicted to you at some point just to make him slowly realize that he is in love.

Just expect him to say your name out loud every time he sees you.

One thing, deep conversations is not his forte. He hides a secret that he won't even bother to tell. Expect him changing the subject from time to time, he clearly doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

If he happens to have a deep conversation with you, you would be surprised that he is also faking a smile even if you knew from the beginning.

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groovinrightalong · 8 months

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Do u have any trans masc Max Mayfield headcanons?

I haven’t thought much about it but now I have so MANY thoughts!

-Max hasn’t had a lot of positive relationships with the men in his life, so it takes a long while for the “hm I don’t feel quite right” to click. He doesn’t feel super comfortable as a girl, but he looks at his step-dad and Billy and is like “well I don’t want to be anything like that, so this has to be okay.”

-He definitely knows more about gender/sexuality stuff than the others because of growing up in California. So he’s thought a lot about it over the years, but just kept coming to the conclusion that he’s a tomboy (again, no positive relationships with men.)

-It’s actually because of Lucas (and the rest of the Party, by extension) that he really starts to get more comfortable with the idea. Because Lucas is sweet, and he’s gentle, and so unlike any of the other men he’s been around. Lucas is the first person that kind of cracks his view on gender roles and what exactly defines a man.

-He butts heads with Mike a lot at first just because of how insistent Mike is about him being a girl, how he’s different and unwelcome because of it, but (if this is also transmasc Mike) they realize they’re actually really similar and grow closer because of it, or (if this isn’t transmasc Mike) Max realizes that it isn’t the “girl” thing that bothers him, it’s the fear of replacing El.

-If it’s both transmasc Max and transmasc Mike, Mike comes out WAY earlier than he would’ve on his own.

-The boys are all really supportive when he comes out (which would probably be around the season 3 era). They don’t really get it at first, but he’s their friend, and they’ve always been very vocal about how they’d kill for a friend if needed. And really, seeing Max as a boy isn’t all that different from what they were doing already, so it’s an easy adjustment.

-In a similar fashion to Max teaching El about being a girl in the show, the guys take him out on a “boys only” night. It isn’t really any different than their usual hangouts- they go to the movies, play video games, eat way too much junk food, but the boys only title makes Max feel all fuzzy and warm inside.

-He comes out to Billy while he’s dying. He didn’t ever really plan on doing it at all, but his step-brother is dying in his arms and he needs to get it off his chest before it’s too late. Billy is a lot of the reason it took so long for him to feel comfortable as himself, and he thinks Billy knows that once it’s out in the air. Unfortunately, Billy’s dead before he can really give much of a reaction, just a weak little “I’m sorry.” And that’s nowhere near enough to make up for everything.

-He comes out to his family that night in a screaming match with his step-dad. Neil is an asshole about it, but it doesn’t really matter because the whole argument starts because he’s gonna leave them. Susan is incredibly supportive, and she turns around and kicks Neil out even though she’d been begging him to stay moments before. Gives Max one of those big, therapeutic hugs where Max just sobs into her shirt.

-Max cuts his hair off after Billy’s death. He’s never had a problem with his hair, he actually likes it long, but he’s messed up over everything that happened. He leans a lot more into the stereotypes he hated as a kid, acts rougher and more stand-offish. He breaks up with Lucas, stops hanging out with the rest of his friends. He feels awful, because this is the first time in his life that he’s only surrounded by people that support and love him, but he feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

-(Vecna has a field day with all that)

-Post canon, he does grow his hair back out again. Lucas dramatically informs him that men with long hair are hot (bi king), to which Max shoots back that that would mean Mike was hot. Lucas gives Mike a quick once over and is like I mean, yeah.

-Lucas likes to greet people and go hi, yes, this is my boyfriend Max. He’s so cool. He pretty much single-handedly saved Hawkins that one time. And Max stands there with his face bright red in his hands like oh my god shut up

-Lumax and Byler double dates with an obnoxious amount of homo, striking fear into the hearts of conservative smalltown Indiana

YES I love this sorry for making it angst near the end but yes yes transmasc Max I love him💞

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sohemotional · 1 month

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That Don't Impress Me Much - A Brittana Fic

Summary: The blonde dancer totally knew the effect she had on her. It was so easy to rile the dark-haired woman up and as she beckoned her closer with a finger, Santana kept gazing at her lips, making it so obvious what she wanted.

She leaned closer, knowing that Santana would feel her breathing against her neck and as she expected, there was a sharp, aroused intake of breath from the Latina.

She even closed her eyes, puckering her lips as if Brittany was going to kiss her.

As if.

“My name is no. My sign is no. My number is no. You need to let it go.”

Brittany is tired of being taken advantage of by selfish, egotistical jerks, so she makes a plan with her friend Tina that she can make some idiot fall for her and then ditch them after she has had her fun. Her plans backfire when she’s swept off her feet by arrogant yet surprisingly sweet celebrity Santana Lopez.

Rating: M

Read More on AO3

***This is a companion piece to my other Brittana AU fic, "My Name Is No (You Need To Let It Go),” which you can find here on tumblr or on AO3

Brittany had just about had enough of fuckboys and fuckgirls.

There she was, sitting alone in a crummy little diner, all by her lonesome on Saturday night, her date nowhere to be found. Being the only hot, young blonde in fishnets, heels so high she was close to God, and a skirt so short it was probably illegal while surrounded by desperate bikers and hicks who licked their lips as they leered at her should have made her feel like she was walking through the valley of the shadow of death. Or maybe she should have felt the way those fish in her dad’s aquarium felt that time Lord Tubbington took up scuba diving as his new hobby.

Instead, Brittany was unfazed. As she water-skied down the highway of life, she had seen it all.

That one old Dolly Parton song her mother and Grandma Rose from St. Olaf used to like so much was playing in the background now. It made her pretty nostalgic for the good old days in the Pierce house. Sometimes Brittany felt this one should have been the soundtrack to her life, if she ever had to choose a replacement for “Candy” by Cameo.

Don't try to cry your way out of this

Don't try to lie or I'll catch you in it

Don't try to make me feel sorry for you

Just because I'm blonde

Don't think I'm dumb

Cause this dumb blonde ain't nobody's fool

When you left you thought I'd sit

An' you thought I'd wait

An' you thought I'd cry

You called me a dumb blonde

Ah, but somehow I lived through it

And you know if there's one thing this blonde has learned

Blondes have more fun

There was nothing Brittany loved more than sex and she knew she was the best. Hoeing was her hobby. If there were competitions for this, she would have won the Olympic Gold medal. In fact, she had won the kissing competition in Lima five years in a row easily, if that meant anything.

Sure fuckboys and fuckgirls were kinda fun, especially when she got them in bed for the fucking part of things but a girl needed some romance in her life too.

After the first few times, she was over them. No one could hold her interest and it seemed like she never held theirs. To them, she was always just stupid bimbo slut Brittany. Good for an easy lay but not for a relationship.

Sure she knew she was hot but Brittany was beginning to wonder why she was never the girl who got flowers or love confessions and marriage proposals made to her. She was never the girl who got her happily ever after.

All she wanted was a cowboy to ride her off into the sunset.

“Tina, he just left me,” She sobbed into the phone as she heard Mike muttering something to his girlfriend in the background that vaguely sounded like him asking where Brittany was. “I’m at the Little Alien Inn!”

So now she was crying because she got ditched again.

“Bad bitches don’t cry.”

At least, that was what Tina told her when she and Mike stopped by to take her home but Brittany wasn’t so sure she was a bad bitch at that moment.

Mike and Tina each grabbed one of her arms, all about dragging her out of the diner in her bra and skirt when she had started to take off her clothes and perform a strip show on top of a table as she often did.

“You must think I’m such a mess.” Brittany sobbed, mascara running down her cheeks. Tina and Mike who were accustomed to picking up Brittany from sleazy bars and motels weren’t particularly surprised by any of this.

“Oh Britt, it’s not you. It’s that vile idiot. You don’t need any of them! Just be your hot girl self. You’re an independent woman who don’t need no man or woman! Hot girl summer and all that.”

Brittany wasn’t so sure about that at the moment. She felt like a codependent woman who was very much in need of a man or woman.

“Maybe Room Temperature Girl Summer?”

Tina shook her head, a long-suffering expression on her face, snorting out an incredulous, unladylike laugh as she passed another tissue to the blonde. She was so accustomed to Brittany’s oddball personality that she had come to expect comments like that from her. Apparently noticing that her tall, blonde friend was moping the night away on their couch with a pout on her face, she took pity on her.

“Here’s an idea: make a game out of it. Make some fuckboy go all crazy for you next time and then you ditch them when you’ve had your fun and laugh in their face.”

“Oh this, I’d pay to see.” Mike chimed in from across the room.

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of Brittany’s lips as she thought her friends were making a good point.

That night, something hardened inside of her and changed for her.

Tina was right, it was time she had some more self-respect and Brittany began to realize how much more she was worth than just a quick lay in the backseat of someone’s car until they moved on to the next girl.

——

She got her confidence back pretty quickly because if there was one thing about Brittany it was that she didn’t stay depressed for long.

So the next week she was slinking around The Pussy Cat with feline-like confidence and agility, ignoring the men who gawked at her, hissing and cat-calling as she passed by. She didn’t have a care in the world.

Who cared about girlfriends and boyfriends? She was just there to have fun with her friends. So that’s what she was going to do.

She was having such a great time that she really did forget about her troubles.

Then she felt her burning gaze on her from across the room. The stranger in question was a Latina with black hair, equally dark eyes, glowing dark skin, and a very slim but toned build. Her long hair fell in perfectly tousled dark waves.

She didn’t take her eyes off of Brittany once and had her jaw dropped as she took in the sight of the blonde. The blonde had never seen such a clear demonstration of “undressing someone with your eyes” in action.

Brittany couldn’t deny that the woman had this powerful, commanding aura about her.

She paid absolutely no mind to it, humming to herself as she twirled around and rolled her body perfectly in time with the beat. Then she sauntered back to her friends, giggling to herself as she thought of something her cat had done the night before.

Sugar tapped her on the shoulder.

“Oh Britt, you’ve got another admirer. That one is checking you out so hard. She looks like she’s drooling. I can see her boner from over here… ”

Brittany’s friends began to snicker obnoxiously. The blonde smirked and shrugged. It was super obvious that the painfully horny brunette was checking her out the entire time, muttering “Humina, humina,” but Brittany wasn’t bothered one way or another.

“Oh, okay. I just want to dance.”

Tina, Sugar, Marley, and the others were gawking at her. Sugar eventually piped up.

“Don’t you know who that is?! It’s Santana Lopez.”

“Who?”

“Brittany! How do you not know? She’s a celebrity! She was on Bad Girls Club.”

“Oh.”

“She’s openly lesbian too.”

“No duh. I could tell,” Brittany stated dryly, remembering how that woman had stared at her legs and ass. Come to think of it, Santana was still doing that. Brittany shook her head, rolling her eyes fondly at her friend. Sugar was always trying to matchmake her with someone and that girl knew everything about celebrities. She looked down at her nails, inspecting the pale pink polish on them while she knew Santana was checking her out again. “Uh, whatever. So not interested.”

She definitely wasn’t looking for anyone that night but if she managed to torment them, then that was a bonus. Men and some women always seemed to assume that if Brittany was dancing, it meant she was looking for a partner.

“What’s all that noise?” Brittany spoke up, hearing a bit of a commotion. “It’s kind of annoying.”

It turned out that the woman who had been checking her out was being totally loud and obnoxious now. She laughed really loudly, banging her fist on the table and being a total show-off. She threw back drinks until she was visibly red in the face. Then she started to sing as she got up on the table, drawing a crowd until some short woman with a serious expression pulled her back down before she embarrassed herself. She clearly thought she was so desirable and hot.

She probably thought that Brittany didn’t notice how she kept sneaking glances in her direction. A sly smirk came to Brittany’s lips. This woman was such a goofy dork and she was extremely obvious. Brittany had never seen someone who tried so, so hard and was so painfully lacking in self-awareness.

It was almost cute.

Brittany knew this woman’s type just from looking at her. She was also a little psychic.

She could tell this stranger was such a stereotypical arrogant womanizer with an ego the size of a small planet and thought of women as nothing more than warm bodies. She was so vain, she probably looked at herself in every reflective surface she passed. She was so selfish and spoiled that she thought the world revolved around her.

She was totally Brittany’s type.

She didn’t need her though. She was done with playboys forever.

At least that’s what she told herself when she followed her friends over to the bar. She taken a few sips from the strawberry daiquiri in her hand when she began to blink in confusion as a margarita was placed in front of her.

“It’s from that lady over there. She sent this and she asked me to tell you that you’re stunning.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. Tell her I’m so not interested.” Brittany quipped with a sassy flip of her long wavy hair.

Brittany glanced over her shoulder to see Santana waving and giving her this smug smile that made these stupid, cute dimples deepen on both of her cheeks.

Tina and her other friends were just watching her with amusement as Brittany continued to ignore Santana. All of her friends clearly found this so hilarious, though they were supporting her in her decision to completely ignore all the perverts and fuckboys who were trying to get her.

“Wow, Santana’s really going for it. Looks like someone’s dying for your attention.” Mike chuckled.

“Ugh, here we go. I so don’t care. She’s just horny. Why do they always see a woman sitting alone and assume she wants a companion?” The sass was dripping from Brittany’s voice as she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and curled her lip, ignoring the drink Santana sent her. “Newsflash, no thanks.”

Santana kept giving her the eye no matter how much Brittany made it clear that she wasn’t going to fall into her arms. Ugh, Brittany rolled her eyes with exasperation and amusement, couldn’t Ms. Egotistical take a hint?

Apparently not.

“Oh don’t look now, here she comes. She got it bad.” Sugar snorted as everyone began to chuckle at the sight of Santana Lopez swaggering over with her shoulders thrown back.

Brittany had to hand it to her, the woman was the only one who had been brave enough to approach her like this all night.

Too bad the blonde was so not in the mood.

Brittany was feeling bitchy. She knew the routine by now. They all wanted to know her name, her number, her sign… Brittany was curious about whatever sleazy pick-up line Ms. Arrogant was going to give her and she didn’t disappoint.

Santana had this stupid, cute cheesy smirk on her face and her teeth were gleaming white.

She was so typical Hollywood sleaze.

“Hi. You’re gorgeous,” Okay, she was starting off being a little charming with that opening line, Brittany had to admit but she just knew the sleaze would be coming next. “Dayum, Girl. Where’d you learn to dance like that? Who you dancing like that for looking all hot like that?”

Not for you, Jerk :) That’s for sure.

“What I want to know is, what time them legs open?”

Like I haven’t heard that one a million times before…

It was so lame. Even though she was in stunned disbelief, Brittany couldn’t help but notice Santana now and she gave it back to her with a sassy comeback of her own.

“Oh, is that supposed to be a pick up line?”

Brittany was beginning to wonder if Santana had ever actually flirted with a woman before, far less managed to pick up one. There was a flash of lust in her dark eyes when Brittany said that and she looked as if she was about to combust on the spot.

“So, you know, I’m on top of things. Would you like to be one of them?”

Brittany could barely hold back her laugh, cupping a hand over her mouth as she rolled her eyes. Santana continued to puff up her chest and peacock around her, as if she expected Brittany to be totally impressed.

“Ooo, is it hot in here, or is it just you?”

She could not be for real. This was the great, powerful celebrity Santana Lopez her friends were in awe of? She really thought she was charming the dress off of Brittany with those corny lines.

Brittany couldn’t wait to tell Tina about this later. She knew her friend would be laughing about it forever.

“Ooo, I’m in trouble.”

Santana as always, was unfazed by Brittany’s ice cold, dismissive attitude. The preppy blonde decided to tease her even more, getting close and poking her finger into Santana’s chest confidently. Brittany couldn’t deny that the way Santana’s eyebrows rose and her lips parted as if she was flustered by the blonde invading her personal space amused her to no end.

“Oh that’s how it is, huh? What’s your name, Pretty Girl?”

Anytime Brittany was snippy towards her, the woman looked at her with obvious arousal written all over her face. She was pushing back her dark hair, trying so, so hard to look all cool and suave but she had this stupid, goofy look of excitement on her face that made it difficult for Brittany not to start giggling. She had to cover her hand over her mouth as she laughed in her face.

The more Brittany acted all aloof and mysterious, the more she turned on Ms. Egomaniac. She swore she saw the woman clenching her thighs together when Brittany gave another sassy response to her.

Brittany had been one of the most popular cheerleaders at school and homecoming queen. She knew how to handle vain, uncouth Santana Lopez types.

Except she had never met anyone quite as hot as Santana before.

Now that she was so physically close to Santana, she couldn’t stop herself from checking the girl out, noticing that she was slightly shorter than her with a toned, slim build that the simple black dress she was wearing displayed so well. Brittany couldn’t help but notice the slight muscle tone in her arms and how radiant her brown skin was.

Santana gave her another smug look, as if she could tell that Brittany liked what she saw. Whatever. If she thought Brittany was just going to give in to her, she had another thing coming.

If there was one thing Brittany knew, it was flirting.

She learned it straight from her blonde, buxom mother, the original harlot and heartbreaker of Lima in her day before she had settled down. If she wanted to, she could get this girl into bed, easy as ABC.

Brittany didn’t even have to try and that’s exactly why she wasn’t gonna let her get what she wanted so easily.

The blonde dancer totally knew the effect she had on her. It was so easy to rile the dark-haired woman up and as she beckoned her closer with a finger, Santana kept gazing at her lips, making it so obvious what she wanted.

She leaned closer, knowing that Santana would feel her breathing against her neck and as she expected, there was a sharp, aroused intake of breath from the Latina.

She even closed her eyes, puckering her lips as if Brittany was going to kiss her.

As if.

“My name is no. My sign is no. My number is no. You need to let it go.”

She couldn’t stop giggling at the sight of Santana frozen in place with her lips sticking out, clearly not expecting this turn of events as Brittany just sang that song to her.

No kisses for you, Hot Shot, She smiled to herself.

Talk about embarrassing. How was Ms. Big Shot Movie Star ever gonna recover from that one?

Brittany was a professional dancer and she could easily outdo everyone in the club but that didn’t seem to stop Santana from trying to keep up with her. She began to dance beside her energetically as Temperature by Sean Paul played.

“You’re cocky. That’s how you dance?” Brittany was in stunned disbelief yet again, amused by the way Santana was being so ridiculous. She was clearly trying so hard to impress her and it was having the opposite effect. Santana was being such a clown and people around them were starting to give them strange looks.

“You like that, huh, Babe?” The woman was all up on her, her arm settling around her waist as she husked into her ear. “You want all up on this, don’t you? I’ll make you feel so good, Princess. Trust me. I’ll make you scream my name.”

Santana’s voice was so hazy and raspy. Brittany felt heat rush to her face, right up her neck to her ears, shocked by what she heard… and kind of intrigued. Santana couldn’t really think Brittany would give in just from that locker room talk. She didn’t want Santana to see how affected she was by her comment but of course, Santana saw everything.

Apparently the woman noticed the blush on Brittany’s face too and she was amused.

“Is that so?” She challenged, making sure to flutter her eyelashes.

“You bet. I think we should get to know each other better. Preferably with way less clothes on.”

Was that the best Santana had?

“Hmm, oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? What else?”

“Roses are red, violets are fine. You be a six and I’ll be a nine.”

Santana might have been the funniest person to ever exist. She couldn’t be for real.

“Mm hm. Is that all?”

The celebrity began to tell her all about what she wanted to do with her when she got her in bed, making her appreciation for Brittany’s ass obvious. She wasn’t expecting her to grind up on her like that. The feeling of Santana’s hips moving against hers and her husky voice against her ear made it kind of hard for her to remember that she wasn’t supposed to give in to her.

She was such a horny jerk and Brittany’s jaw dropped in disbelief at how crude she was being as the blush in her cheeks intensified.

Santana was just a little too excited, acting as if she was entitled to getting into Brittany’s pants and that just wouldn’t do. At least not until Brittany was ready for that. If she decided she wanted her. Brittany was gonna have to remind her to back off a little until she wined and dined her enough - if Brittany deigned to allow her to.

She wagged a finger.

“Nuh uh. I don’t think so.”

She needed to extract herself from Santana’s arms. So she raised her knee the way she saw on a TV show about women defending themselves from muggers and got her right up in the area between her legs.

Not in a fun way either.

Santana’s eyes went comically wide in stunned disbelief and she took a tumble on her ass.

“Did I do that? Oops! My Bad!” She giggled with faux-innocence, not meaning a word of it.

Brittany walked back over to her friends victoriously as they clapped and cheered for her. In fact, almost the entire club had stopped to watch the whole spectacle as Santana struggled to regain her dignity.

“Brittany, I am so proud of you. You are the ultimate boss, oh my God!” Tina congratulated her then turned back to her phone. “Santana Lopez getting clamslammed and kneed right in the vagina by a mystery woman is already trending on Twitter.”

“You’re not leaving with her?” Sugar looked shocked when the blonde waltzed over, making her exit. Brittany not going home with someone, especially someone like Santana, was about as rare as a blue moon. “This never happens. She’s just your type. She’s rich, super famous, good-looking, shallow, dumb…”

“Not really. She’s gonna have to try harder if she wants all of this.” Brittany flipped her hair over her shoulder with complete confidence and sass, gesturing to the curves of her body. She knew Santana could hear her. Santana blinked at her stupidly a few times, apparently disoriented by her hotness.

She turned just in time to see Santana limping over to her pathetically.

Brittany was confused. Why was Santana gazing at her in fascination, as if Brittany was the most gorgeous, entrancing being she had ever encountered even though her groin and ego were in a world of hurt?

“What’s your name?”

Maybe it was because Santana was so cute but Brittany couldn’t help but flirt a little despite herself. Maybe she didn’t want their game to be over just yet. They were both sweaty and flushed, somewhat breathless from all the dancing.

“You need to let it go,” She teased, watching Santana closely as the woman attempted to regain her composure and act like she was unaffected. “It’s Brittany.”

____

That would be far from the last she saw of Ms. Can't Take No For An Answer, even if she had humiliated her.

She had never met anyone quite as determined and persistent as Santana Lopez.

Apparently, when the Empress of the Universe wanted something, she always got her way and she wasn’t accustomed to being told “No.”

Apparently Santana was really into the whole prissy mean girl side of Brittany.

She was also the most obvious person on the face of the planet. Brittany snorted when Tina sent her a link to a new article. The headline was pretty interesting.

Santana Lopez Dedicates New Hit Single to Mystery Blonde - Who is “Brittany from The Pussy Cat?”

A video of her giving Santana a swift knee upward to the vaginal area had gone viral as well.

Even Santana’s hardcore fans were amused by it all.

Brittany noticed that Santana had left a bunch of comments on her thirst traps, making it extremely clear what she thought of them. The internet was going crazy making fun of how lusty and obsessed Santana was being but that hadn’t seemed to deter the woman either, despite Brittany ignoring all of her attempts to hit on her.

That Brittany S. Pierce must have some Grade A Prime Pussy for Santana to be simping this hard for her…

“Jesus Christ, the thirst,” Tina chuckled as Mike, Marley and Sugar couldn’t stop giggling beside her on the couch in the blonde’s apartment when she showed them her phone screen. They read yet another private message the woman sent to Brittany that was strongly suggesting what she wanted to do with her. “Goddamn. She really wants you.”

“She’s just horny for me. She’ll get over it.”

I’m just another conquest for her…

“Be honest, do you think she’s attractive?” Sugar asked, raising an eyebrow. “At all?”

She had watched all of Santana’s scenes on Bad Girls Club several times, looked at a bunch of her magazine photoshoots - she figured she needed to do her research, after all - and she even loved her songs that flopped. That didn’t mean anything though. Santana Lopez was just a silly pompous rich girl just like the rest of them.

“I mean, if you’re into the whole disgruntled, awkward cat aesthetic maybe. Her upper lip kinda reminds me of a duck.” She deflected.

Everyone laughed as she said this.

“You definitely should stay away from her. I know Santana well and she’s a total arrogant jerk. She thinks of women as disposable objects.”

“Oh, is she?” Brittany snorted sarcastically. “That’s a shocker. Don’t worry, Tina, believe me you don’t have to worry about me falling for her.”

Brittany’s apartment was so very pink and decorated in such an eccentric way that most people were a little taken aback when they walked in for the first time.

Eventually, her entire living space became crowded with bouquets of pink flowers Santana had sent to her address. She sent ridiculously expensive jewellery, chocolates, and dresses. Brittany didn’t even know how she figured out all of Brittany’s favourite colours and things like that but she wasn’t about to get rid of them… she liked expensive gifts.

She never responded to any of Santana’s gifts, knowing it would drive her insane. Santana got her number from Tina and Mike, who were their mutual friends. Truth be told, Tina had always found Santana annoying anyway and they were more like frenemies as that feeling was mutual, so she was happy to assist Brittany in her plan to troll Santana.

Brittany answered Santana’s calls just enough to toy with her and keep her guessing, then ignored her whenever she felt like it.

It was all part of her plan.

“What am I supposed to do with all of this stuff?” The blonde whined halfheartedly as Lord Tubbington knocked over the growing pile of chocolate boxes.

“You could send it back if you really don’t want it.” Mike suggested with a shrug.

“I would… but pink diamonds are really nice,” Brittany pouted. “I might need another dress too.”

“This almost sounds like one of those sugar daddy type of situations,” The man shook his head at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m not surprised, since it’s you after all.”

“Except, she won’t be getting any sugar.” Britt winked. Tina smirked at her in agreement, giving her a high five.

“You are the queen of manipulation. You’re really gonna get this woman to spend herself bankrupt, aren’t you? Yes, Girl. I say, use all the power you have to your advantage. Stress that fuckgirl out. Make her work for it, Britt. Make her suffer!”

Sugar, Marley and Jake fell silent, taken aback by the short, gothic woman. Mike glanced over with a nervous expression as he heard Tina’s words, followed by her evil cackle.

“You’re torturing the shit out of her! I love it. Get it, Girl.”

Brittany felt proud.

“Hey, if she wants all this she’s gonna have to work for it.”

“Hey, Britt, I think there’s someone at your door. Must be another delivery from Ms. Egomaniac.” Sugar chimed in.

The tall blonde just shrugged, traipsing over and eventually returning with a new parcel. Brittany blushed reddish pink up to her ears, gasping at a new, skimpy lingerie set that she unwrapped. She held up the light blue, lacy lingerie as her friends began to wolf whistle jokingly and some of them made gagging noises.

Against her better judgment, she answered Santana’s call when that familiar number flashed on her phone a few minutes later.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve sending this,” She sniffed, trying to sound bitchy and cold as she told her off. “Do you really think that’s appropriate? You horny bastard.”

Santana was laughing down the line. She was actually laughing, that cheeky bitch.

“You like it, Babe? Gonna put it on and model it just for me, Querida?”

“I am not your Querida.”

She did like the lingerie a lot but Santana didn’t need to know that. If her ego got any bigger it would probably explode.

She hung up before Santana could answer. Deep down, she knew Santana would love that response even more.

****Read the rest of this story on AO3

#brittana #brittany s. pierce #santana lopez #Brittany Pierce #Glee #Brittana Fanfiction #Santana and Brittany #my fics #My Name is No series #Brittana AU

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keirawantstocry · 4 months

Text

whoops. wrote a fitpac fic :)

im so sorry if any of my characterization is off cause this is the first time ive ever written them and im so sorry if i messed up any of the Portuguese 😭

i can be ur new addiction

Strength was what originally piqued Pac's interest in the pole. He wanted to feel that strength in his own body, that pull of his muscles as he held himself up. The sweat that dripped down his forehead as he brought himself to the point of exhaustion physically. In everyday life as well he could feel the strong cords of his muscle as he picked things up and spent time building. It was a good feeling. It was admirável, addictive, espantoso. Logistically he knew the implications that came with knowing how to perfectly do a split against a stripper pole, how to land with his thighs spread open. He just never thought about it. Not in the context of other people seeing it.

Until the first time he was asked to perform what he knew in front of other people. All eyes on him. It was like a drug, feeling the pull of eyes, feeling the gazes rake hungrily over his body. Watching so closely as he spun around, twisted and stretched his body in every single direction it could go. As they appreciated his bare skin, the expanse of his bare chest and his thighs tight around the pole itself. People whistled and applauded. More than a few people sauntered up to him afterwards asking if he did private shows, if he could do something like that on their bodies. He agreed to a few. The nicer ones. The money slipped in his hands was almost as good as the feeling of being up close and personal with people radiating with how much they wanted you. Viciante.

He had more confidence back then. Back when he still had both his legs.

Roier was the one who convinced him he should get back into it after his robotic leg had been installed. Who begged him nearly every week to join him in one of the back rooms of the club to practice with the strippers there. It took a bit of practice. Bit of understanding and maneuvering. To get back into it all. Lots of time practicing, first by himself but then with Melissa, with some of the other men and women who worked there at the club. It felt good to feel strong again. To feel capable. To feel, not quite sexy yet but confident.

He and Mike had figured out how to make an incredibly realistic leg replacement for him. It was just as easy to use on the pole as his actual skin. The slight burn against his skin as he held himself up. It was good. It felt good. On a very slow night he even made his way out in the strip club with Melissa and did a few rounds around with her. It felt good again. To see how the scattered men looked at him and Melissa both. Hungry eyes. They wanted him. He felt sexy. It was almost intoxicating enough that he could forget who he was really wishing would look at him like that.

With his skills and knowledge, nobody could blame him for using it to his advantage when he knew Fit was around. He couldn't help it. At heart he yearned for the attention and damnit he was going to get it. Especially from Fit. He already saw how the man reacted to the minimal flirting that they participated in, how flustered and stuttery he got when anyone else on the island mentioned the two of them together in any sense of the word.

So when Fit messaged him over the communicator one morning asking where he was instead of going upstairs and pretending he hadn't been practicing, he told him the truth.

ill see you there :)

Pac knew the exact moment when Fit walked inside the dimly lit room of the basement. He heard the inhale of his breath as he gasped at the sight of him. It was addictive. Better than he could have ever imagined. “Olá, Fit!” He swung himself off the pole with a self satisfied smirk, landing on his knees with his legs spread underneath him. “Tudo bem?”

Fit looked like his eyes were about to bulge out of his head. He just stared and stared as Pac watched him carefully. His mouth fell open as his eyes raked up Pac's thighs, pupils getting wide with desire. “Wow.”

“Wow?” Pac pressed, trying to get him to say more and it seemed to break Fit out of his spell.

Clearing his throat, he tore his eyes away from Pac. “Yeah man. The core strength. Core strength. You're very strong.” He took a few steps back, farther away from the man in front of him, to simply stare at the floor in front of him.

Fuck. Pac wanted his attention again. And he knew the perfect way to get it. Gracefully standing to his feet while keeping one hand on the pole, he started to pull off the loose blue pants he had been wearing while trying to catch Fit's eye. The man glanced up for nary a second and he was caught. Hook, line, and sinker.

He gulped, prominent against his throat. “What are you doing?”

“Practicing the rest of my routine. Do you mind?” Pac asked, making sure to flutter his eyelashes a bit with a laugh bubbling up from his chest. “I don't have to do it now. You know if-”

“No no,” Fit interrupted. “It's no problem. None at all.”

Pac simply gave him a smile as he tossed his pants to the side showing off the whole bodysuit he was wearing. The deep black contrasted perfectly with his skin, raised quite high up on his hips hugging them tightly. He had always felt confident in the bodysuit, usually wearing it under his everyday sweats and hoodie. It felt so much more electrifying to be wearing it and it only. Especially in front of Fit, who was staring at him with clear desire while using every atom in his body to hold himself back. It was fantastic.

Using every muscle in his arms he pulled himself up the pole, flipping himself over, spreading his legs out to split before flipping back over and lowering himself down to admire the pure lust in Fit's eyes. Pac slowly walked himself around the pole, feeling the drag of Fit's gaze over his thighs and ass as he did so. did so. His head was getting fuzzy. The room felt even stuffier and hotter than it had before. With both hands he grabbed the pole once again and started to pull himself up. The pull was strong in his muscles, his arms tense. He repeated his movements from the ground but in the air, legs cycling as if he was walking while he used his arms and momentum to twirl himself slowly around the pole.

“That’s amazing,” Fit said. A squeak echoed in the room from Fit’s shoe as he took a step forward.

“Thank you,” Pac said, winking at him as he spun around to face him before landing hard on his feet. Using one finger, he curled it towards himself to try and motion Fit closer. He followed without thinking, like a magnet, mouth open slightly. He reached back once he deemed he was close enough and lifted himself up on the pole once more. “Help me?”

Fit nodded, looking dazed. “Uh yeah yeah with what?”

“I need to-” he cut himself off and dropped down again, trying to figure out the best way to do it. Of course he already knew damn well how to do the move all by himself but Fit didn’t need to know that piece of information. He stood to the side of the pole as Fit hovered around him. Reaching out he put his hand on Fit’s before bringing it over to rest on the very bottom of his back right above where the fabric of the bodysuit cut off. Fit sucked in his breath hard but managed to keep it together and keep his hand on Pac.

Reaching up, Pac put his hands on top of each other on the pole, preparing to swing his legs up. “Follow the, the um, flow of my body. I’m going to flip.”

Fit blinked trying to process what exactly they were going to do. “Okay okay yeah I can help you with that.”

Time slowed down as his body hinged with the other man’s help. As Fit’s hand stayed firm on his back throughout the entire flip. Not even letting go once he was back on the ground and had released his grip on the pole. Pac used it as an excuse to get closer to him, until their feet bumped together and he could see every fleck of color in Fit’s wide eyes.

“Did I do good?”

“Yes. Yes. Of course you did… you always do amazing.”

Pac smiled, a sharp but kind smile. “Thank you, Fit.”

Fit's hand felt hot on his skin even through the fabric of his bodysuit. All he wanted to do was lean in as close as he could. Until their bodies were knitted together, rib to rib, heart to heart. A voice in his head, which sounded suspiciously like Fit's, was the only thing that stopped him.

Take it easy. Go slow. Slow. Slow. Slow.

Pac let out a deep slow breath and with a smile stepped back away from Fit, letting his hand drop from his body. “Let me put my clothes back on, yeah? Then we can do whatever you wanna do today.”

Fit smiled back at him but his eyes were still dark, looking at Pac way too closely to be platonic. “Yeah. That sounds good, man.”

He felt good. They were good. It was gonna be good. Fit was security. The kind of stable strength that Pac had never found in past partners. It felt safe. He had to pull in his emotions as he gathered his clothes up to put them back on, he could not admit that Fit felt like home. Nice and slow. Take it nice and slow to get the guy.

He turned to face Fit with a large smile. “Ready to go?”

Fit gave him the smile that he only reserved for him, Tubbo, and Ramon. “So ready.”

#hide duo #qsmp fitmc #qsmp pactw #my fics #fitpac #pac canonically can pole dance and i used that to my advanatge

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fantasticallyfruity4 · 1 year

Text

Billy and Eddie got a little place together after highschool.

It’s nothing fancy, really. But it’s nicer than the house on old cherry road, and nicer than Wayne’s trailer. Which yes, is Eddie’s home, and he’d never speak bad of, but god knows is held together by duck tape and prayer.

Honestly it’s only nice because it’s new. It’s a little 2 bedroom apartment above one of the stores on main. The owner used to use it as storage but since the mall opened he could used the extra income from converting it to a little apartment.

It’s got steady heat and electric. And they can even make the room to splurge on a basic cable package. they both know just how much that is to have. just how lucky they are to have that much.

they both know how lucky they are that the fridge isn't overflowing but always stocked enough. that they can afford a few meals out a week when they’re lazy, or as a little treat. that they can have days off during the week, fucking weekends!!! like they're middle class or some crazy shit. ends are met, and there's still some give. fuck, there's even a tiny savings account ($10 a week in the big shoebox Billys work boots came in. they deposit it when it fills up).

The entirety of the apartment is pretty humble. the “new” bed frame was from ikea, on sale because it was the display. the nightstands were from one of the thrift stores. the couch was from garreth’s place before his mom decided to redecorate, and garreth told them if they would lug it it was theirs. the coffee table was a house warming gift from Joyce Byers (and Billys still not sure he deserves her forgiveness or love, but that’s besides the point), the kitchen table from a flea market and the chairs (which honestly look like they could go, right eds? they're a great match we’ll take em) from a yard sale (same as their dressers). but everything works damn fine.

And best of all they were able to take Max in.

See, when Billy got the fuck outta dodge Neil got real mean to Max.

nothing happened, at least they were told so by the girl. and if she lied? billy wouldn't hold it against her, he'd been there- lying to anyone and Eveyone about what went on in that house. but assuming it didn't happen, it did still come too damn close.

And when max called one night and said “Billy I’m scared”, the boys were over with Eddie’s van in a half an hour and packing her shit while eddie Called in a favor from Steve harrington who called in a favor from Jim hopper, who just stood menacingly in the doorway, daring Neil to say or do a damn thing.

And this town is too damn small. Because Jim told Joyce, (the boys guessed), and Joyce must have called around, because when they got home Nancy wheeler was standing outside their door with an air mattress, a shopping bag full of some twin size linens, and a bag from melvads, just of “what her and her mom thought max might have forgotten or might need. there's some uh, snacks too. whoppers are mikes favorite so-”.

And max settles in easy. Eddie took her to the mall that Saturday to pick up some “posters and shit” for her new room, because “babe come on it’s the least we can do, that room is fucking sad”. she replaced a couple of the tapes she left at Neil and Susans, and even got 2 new ones. she picked up some posters for her wall, some stickers. some fuckin girly bath shit or something, Eddie was trying not to get a headache from how much that store smelt like one of Santas elves hurled, and some odds and ends clothing wise. (”you forgot your raincoat but not your boots?” “no you need a real jacket for the cold its fucking November your bother would kill me come on, pick one” “how many pairs of socks- no honey we don't do laundry that fast you need another pack... maybe two”)

and billy spends the morning calling around the thrift stores, flea markets, the god damn churches, to see if anyone has anything for a bedroom set for a teenaged girl. saint some-fucin-one had a dresser he could come get, and the sally anne had a decent bed frame and a desk too (fuck the kid needs a desk doesn't she, billy realized), and he saw a little nightstand on someones curb that was fucking fine condition just needed a good cleaning. but he had to bite the full price bullet on a mattress and that hurt a little but okay. and... shit she’d like that rug. it'll make it more homey. the kids had to hard, she deserves it.

after everything they were a little low on their usual comfy pocket change and 80 bucks into the shoebox fund, and fuck were they so lucky to have it. max was overjoyed, and so happy with it. and she looked so relaxed, so comfortable.

they never even mentioned kids. not even in a far out future way, but here they were.

max slowly casually slips into calling billy her brother. and then one day her and Eddie are getting tacos on the way home from a movie billy thought was “way too stupid to sit through, you two dorks have fun” and they bumped into one of max’s classmates and she introduced Eddie as her bother in law and fuck, did Eddie feel a lot of things at that. not as many as when he heard her on the phone say “sorry my brothers hosting his d+d thing tonight and its like, a family thing so I can’t”

the apartment is a weird mix of metal and Kate bush, but they’re all so comfortable with eachother.

Eddie hosts his D+D nights in the apartment and the kids are still a little bit skittish around Billy but he’s getting better. He stays out of the way, spends most of the nights in the bedroom, but occasionally comes out to make the party snacks and put out some water or iced tea. Interrupts with a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, saying “time to take a fucking break there’s snacks on the counter”, virtually court ordering a 10 minute recess so he can ask Eddie to catch him up on the campaign. And Max, who only really comes out of her room on these nights to bully Lucas and sit with El on the sidelines spectating (making fun of the boys), realizes that Billy doesn’t give a fuck what the campaign is, or how it’s playing out, he just wants to see how excited Eddie gets talking about his hobby, watching with soft eyes as he gets the full eddie munson: DM experience. And it seems like even if he doesn’t understand, Billy does encode what Eddie tells him, with the questions he asks and the comments he makes. Her brother is in love. And yeah she kinda knew that, they did move in together after all, but he’s really, really in love, Max realizes.

Billy’s a better cook than Eddie. And Billy isn’t great by any means, but Billy had to learn how to keep himself alive at a young age, whereas Eddie kinda always had Wayne looking out for him. So Eddie’s in charge of toast and coffee in the morning (which he burns more often than he’d like to admit) and Billy does the honors of real breakfast on the weekends, when they aren’t rushing around for work and school. Billy usually handles Dinner, and Eddie tries to help, god knows, but he’s a safety hazard and a half, as max has screamed while shooing him out of the kitchen many times.

Eddie takes good care of Billy too. It’s like he reads his mind, face getting worried and asking if he’s okay out of no where, catching a triggered Billy before even billy knows sometimes. Eddie takes care of Billy emotionally, which Billy’s never had before. He holds his hand and rubs his knuckles and promises him the world and delivers it. Max never really saw Billy cry before she started living with them. And it’s only happened twice, but she’s caught Eddie holding Billy while he honest to god Sobs, and she thinks it should probably freak her out but it’s kinda comforting to know Billy feels safe enough to do that, and that Eddie’s gonna take care of him.

Max thinks that maybe this is what normal parents are like. Loving each other, looking out for each other, taking care of each other. Trying to appreciate the others interests.

And they support her too. Much to her discomfort. Her report card is on the fridge, (held down by a magnet that’s a bottle opener) and both young men had stars in their eyes that she did so well her first quarter living with them because that means they haven’t fuck up too bad. (“It’s 4 Bs and 3 A’s Billy it’s not that great” “it’s better than I ever did! Fuck, Eddie get over here look that this! Isn’t this amazing!” “Yeah max holy shit! I had to re do senior year like, twice, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten an A in my life!”) Eddie was digging through the drawers desperately looking for anything magnetic to hang it up the second he finished talking. Eddie never really got into skating himself but some of his friends did. He gives max rides to the park a few towns over some evenings, swears it’s no sweat because he likes the record store here better anyway. And sometimes cassettes just show up on her desk randomly, songs and albums she maybe said she liked once on the radio in Billy’s car.

At first max doesn’t know how to interact with Wayne. She never knew her grandparents too well, and neither her dad or step dad were worth their weight in salt. So the first dinner he’s around she’s a little stiff. So stiff that Billy takes her aside to make sure she’s alright.

But Wayne’s alwyas been good with skittish kids with fucked up families, and he gets on her good side pretty fast. Wayne helps max replace her old skateboard wheels that Sunday.

It’s not a normal family, Max is well aware of that. But it’s the best she’s got, and the best she’s ever had. She likes it fine enough.

#mungrove #billy hargrove #Eddie munson

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aloeverified · 2 years

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elumax headcanons pLease <3

elumax my beloved

el has a hard time understanding a lot of movies because of all the references to thing she doesn't understand, so when the three have movie night, they turn it into a lesson where they basically explain different parts of life she hasn't been able to experience yet.

this has caused them to make a bucket list with things to do with el; such as go to theme parks or take her to a museum.

after getting a bit of a better understanding of movies, the group usually settles for horror. max likes them the most, whereas lucas hates them but pretends he likes them to seem cool, and el enjoys them because they're easy to understand.

max often talks about how she misses california, and lucas once made her a promise that he'd take them on a roadtrip there once he gets his license. he loves traveling and seeing new places, and el is excited to see more than just hawkins.

after el comes back to hawkins, she tells max that california wasn't nearly as fun without her there. max tells her that they'll just have to replace her bad memories with better ones and lucas subtlety chimes in that he has his license.

max spends a couple of months in a wheelchair as her arms and legs heal. el and lucas worry that she feels left out and do their absolute best to make sure she's still having fun. lucas thought fun meant going on walks with her in parks where she can smell all the flowers and hear what's going on around her — el though fun meant riding down the largest hill in the park. max liked the second idea, lucas did not.

joyce taught el how to sew while they lived in california, and she actually became very good at it. so when max mentioned that she hated how boring her wheelchair must look, el offered to sew some designs into it. it eventually lead to a group family project, with erica and will coming up with designs that fit max, lucas getting all the sewing supplies, and jonathan helping el with the actual sewing. by the end of it, max has a couple rainbows on the sides below her armrests, mad max spelled out on the back in her favorite colors, and jonathan even made some little skulls in construction class that they were able to attach to the middle of her wheels.

with max being blind, lucas and el decide to come up with alternative date night ideas so that she doesn't feel leftout when they watch movies. they eventually agree on reading to max before bed during their sleepovers. el reads while lucas helps to correct her on words she doesn't understand, all while max enjoys listening to the two before falling asleep.

with joyce's expertise from finding jobs, she's able to find a braille reading class. she signs el and max up for it, and lucas' parents cover his classes. already having experience with learning things like morse code, lucas catches on pretty easily, along with max who has always been a fast learner. el struggles a bit, but tries her best in order to support her girlfriend.

joyce and max's mom actually become good friends, as joyce knows what it's like to struggle with money and lost. the two family's eventually start having dinner together once a week, and joyce always allows max over.

hopper off-handly mentions how much he prefers max and lucas to mike, making both el and will blush for separate reasons.

still, hopper is sure to give lucas a stern talking to about how to treat girls, and erica doesn't hold back when threatening max and el to never hurt her brother.

when max is able to start walking again, el and lucas are always there to help her. she finds it a bit overwhelming at first, and the three are able to establish boundaries about what she does or doesn't want help with.

lucas helps her find the best walking cane, and is even able to add a device that beeps when in contact with certain materials so she can navigate easier when alone.

when max decides she's finally ready to start relearning how to skate, the three of them go down to an abandoned parking lot so she doesn't have to worry about being judged. el even brings her rollerskates and borrows a pair from will so lucas can try too. max struggles through a lot of it, but el is there to catch her and lucas helps in reminding her that they have all the time in the world to practice.

when max was still recovering, she listened to lucas' games on the radio and talked back and forth with dustin on the walkie talkies to see how it was going.

once when el was away and especially homesick, she used her powers to watch lucas during his game. she worried she was breaking their boundaries, however, and didn't do it again despite how badly she wanted to watch his games.

knowing that max is more lenient about her using her powers, el would check on her in the hospital and at night sometimes just to make sure she was okay.

el is always cold at night, whereas max and lucas get too hot with a blanket on, so el just sleeps between them for body heat. occasionally she'll use a weighted blanket and have the others sleep onto of it next to her.

#st headcanons #stranger things #el hopper #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #elumax #hopclair #mayhopclair #elmax #lumax #blind max mayfield #wheel chair user max mayfield #paralyzed max mayfield

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witchthewriter · 1 year

Photo

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @deviltryhours.

a/n: I’m sorry this took forever, I know it’s short but I hope it brings you some joy. Happy belated birthday dear friend!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

Waking with a start, you looked at the beeping alarm and grunted. 7:45am.

Mornings. Usually hated, but today … the morning felt a little different then the rest. Laying there, on your back, you could hear the chirping birds outside. Huh, tranquil in the trailer park. A sentence you never thought you’d have.

And then a fuzzy crunching noise sounded, followed by a group of voices you knew all too well. Laughing, you listened as the Hellfire Club sang you happy birthday from the walkie talkies that Eddie demanded everyone have.

“Happyyyy Birrtthhddaayyyy toooooo yooouuuuuuuuu!” You noticed that Eddie’s voice was the loudest of them all, and the most off-key. You were always noticing Eddie more so than the others, especially when he was right in front of you. Your eyes never leaving his form, flicking from his eyes, landing to his smile. God that smile. It lit you up inside and you it took everything in you not to gaze dreamily at him all. Fucking. Day. It should be noted that it’s been pointed out by many of the others but all you could do was brush it off, give small excuses. The most used was, “I’m staring because he doesn’t own a hairbrush … it’s like a birds nest.”

And then you’d hear someone, it nearly always being Max, mumble, “yeah a bird’s next you’d like to bury yourself in.”

She was not wrong there.

Kicking back the covers, your bare feet hit the cold floor and you pulled open the curtain. There, with a massive sign was a group of your closest friends. Eddie, Robin, Dustin, Nancy, Mike, Max, Lucas and Steve. The already knew where the rest of the Hellfire Club members were … still tucked into bed. You couldn’t blame them, with all the teenage hormones.

You doubled over in laughter at the sign, looking at each of your friends’ faces. Robin and Steve were hanging off one another, seemingly fighting off sleep. Nancy was proudly holding one side of the sign (she would’ve been the one to organise the surprise. You had met her in the library during your second year of high school, and had been close ever since. It was seen as a weird friendship to others, but to you two … It made sense.)

Dustin was kneeling on the ground, his arms outstretched presenting the sign, but his body was covering the last few words so Max pushed him over.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“I didn’t wake up before sunrise just for you to block the sign, dumbass.”

“Children, children, please.” Eddie said in a mock stern voice, still holding the other end of the sign.

You rubbed your eyes and slid open your window. Straining to see, you could make out the words that had been painted on a green sheet of poster paper with black marker:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOBLIN KING! THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS GIVING US ROCKS!! THEREFORE YOU ROCK!!!

Maybe it wasn’t the most thought out sign, as you could tell by Nancy’s sheepish smile (you know if she had full reign that the sign would say something a bit more … elegant.) But you could tell that Eddie was the one to come up with the words. Because that was his nickname for you – Goblin King.

Pulling on your boots and a brown knitted jumper, you climbed through your window and out into the field behind your trailer. The group started singing but you groaned and tried to shoosh them (no, they did not stop.)

Dustin called for a group hug and … it actually worked this time.

Like Steve and Nancy, you no longer attended Hawkins High. To the dismay of Robin, who was your fellow bandmate. Making friends after you left was no easy feat. Not to mention that Eddie was gutted that he thought he had to replace you, but as fate would have it, or your lack of life planning, you had no reason not to still be in Hellfire Club.

“God, thank you guys,” you said breathlessly, as Dustin slowly unwrapped himself from your form. He admired you just as much as Steve.

“Well, you’re worth it,” Nancy said with a wink. She knew you the best out of everyone. A weird dynamic; her a social class above you, with a stable(r) home than yours. She never judged you when she came over to visit, never said anything about your family or lack of it.

With a wry grin you bumped your arm against hers and she did the same, a small gesture; like your version of a hug.

And there stood Eddie, with his mane of brown voluminous hair. A smirk on his face, one he knew would ruffle your feathers.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you out of bed before 9am, Munson.” You said mischievously, crossing your arms over your chest. It was ridiculously cold this morning.

“Only leave my bed for the best of ‘em,” he replied, chucking you a messily wrapped present. It was Christmas wrapping, and the tape was abysmal, but you were appreciative nonetheless.

Before you could open it, Mike’s stomach grumbled … loudly…

“I second that,” Lucas said, rubbing his stomach.

“I third it,” said Dustin, “let’s go eat!”

#witch the writer #stranger things #stranger things drabble #personalised drabble #witchthewriter #eddie munson #eddie munson my beloved #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #hawkins crew #hawkins group #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler imagine #nancy wheeler

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schrijverr · 1 year

Text

Page 44-45

[Page 44 has one horizontal photograph on it beneath it is text. The image is of the Munson trailer, a beat up couch standing in front of it. On the couch are Eddie and Wayne, Eddie is shirtless, only having his jewelry and plaid pajama pants on as he is slouched down. Wayne just came from his shift. They’re smoking together. On the door is spray painted ‘Satanists’ in bold letters, both men seem to ignore this.]

Necessary Oblivion

Jonathan Byers, 1989

As much as we want to tell you the good parts, show you all the highlights, the victories. We can’t. Our joy was reserved for private moments and we were watched for signs that could be used against us. Being queer isn’t easy. Not now, not then. You learn to ignore stares and hateful words, to clean off the spray paint and wipe off the dirt when you’re pushed down. However, there are some things that aren’t as easily ignored.

Steve got written out of the will in 1988, replaced by his younger cousin, who was already engaged to his high school sweetheart. His parents only returned to Hawkins for one day and that was to kick him out and inform him of the change. He moved into the trailer with Eddie and his uncle Wayne, like Eddie had done years before that, fleeing for his parents. And like Wayne had done before both of them, a few decades earlier.

Robin got disowned in the summer of 1989, betrayed by a pin that was left on her floor after it fell of a jacket, usually hidden in the back of her closet. She stayed in Jonathan’s old room for the weeks between that happening and moving to Boston too along with Eddie and Steve.

Mrs. Mayfield never knew her daughter had a girlfriend as well as a boyfriend, Max told her grave in 1997. While, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair only learned that their son’s girlfriend had a girlfriend too in 2008.

Mike didn’t invite his parents to his wedding day, Nancy never brought Argyle home. Both of them stopped speaking to the people that raised them when Mike went to college in 1989. Neither of us know what kind of person our little sister grew up to be. Holly Wheeler, if you are out there, we hope you’re okay, we hope you grew up kind.

But we had each other, we were lucky with the support we had. The people that did accept us, are worth their weight in gold. Together we ensured we all made it. Yet none of us can deny there are losses in growing up queer, there are experiences that you don’t get to have, lessons only you have to learn, parts of yourself you can’t share.

Life isn’t a highlight reel, but we try to remember the good parts too.

[Page 45 has three photographs. Two next to each other, with one beneath them. The first image, upper left, is of Robin. She is sitting in the hallway of the Hopper-Byers house, hugging her knees close to her chest and crying. Next to her sits a stuffed duffle bag.]

Disowned

Jonathan Byers, 1989

[The photograph next to it is of the same image, this time Steve is kneeling in front of her, wiping away her tears and smiling softly. Robin returns it with a watery smile of her own.]

Claimed

Jonathan Byers, 1989

[Below it is another horizontal image, again of the trailer. This time Wayne is gone from the couch, as is Eddie. Instead Eddie and Steve are working together to clean the paint of the trailer, both having a little bucket and sponges. Eddie is still dressed the same as in the first photograph, Steve is wearing the unbuttoned matching top and just a pair of boxers, his chest and leg hair on full display. Both their scars can be seen.]

Cleaning Up after Hate

Jonathan Byers, 1989

<<Prev Next>> AO3

#rr writing #a collection of queer photography by jonathan byers #tw: homophobia #homophobia #steddie #platonic stobin #jargancy #byler #elumax #lumax #elmax #wayne munson #eddie lives au #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #jonathan byers #stranger things #st post season 4

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strangerfigs · 2 years

Text

young will byers imagining the rest of his life with mike wheeler in a non-romantic way and those feelings becoming romantic over time but pretending they are not because he knows it will never happen. will byers moving away and struggling so immensely without mike that he feels like he is drowning and seeing the letters fly in, addressed to el, and too hurt, too petty to reach out to mike; too afraid of rejection even in the form of friendship from last summer. every letter seeming as though mike doesn’t care. not thinking of reaching out himself because he is too hurt and sad to do so; cannot have him at the small intervals because it hurts too much to hold onto but thinking of him every day.

realizing that he is visiting soon; that maybe they can go back to what was once there between them; that they can just go back to the way it was. so he starts to paint because he needs to show how much he missed him even though he didn’t reach out.

mike coming to the airport and reacting coolly; apparent that things have changed; mikes moved on and he hasn’t. mike ignoring him. being a third wheel; it’s obvious that mike is here for el and he just so happens to be there; is just a consolation prize. mike noticing his behavior; calling him a jerk. will seeing through it because most of the time mike is easy to read. mike being a jerk again, showing that he has no grief for a lost friendship. does he? back to el.

mike coming in his room; he has passed it. he has moved on from the fight because there are more important things at stake now. they should be worrying about el. mike starting. will accepting but still unconvinced until mike starts talking about hawkins. about their other friends. about how it’s been weird. this last years been weird. they’re … they’re great. but it’s not the same without you. and every word resonates. because that’s what it’s been like for him too. he reads between the lines and hears what mike is saying, and everything that mike has been feeling? is a mirror image to what he has been feeling too, at least in regards to their friendship (romance is so off the table; it’s not even on his mind that that is where his feelings come from) so he grabs the painting, sure he will give it to him at some point because maybe mike needs to see it; just as much as he needed to paint it — why am I the bad guy? why is this on me? — maybe mike felt just as lost without him as he did without mike

the van — how much mike is hurting. what he needs; what is best. how insecure he is; how much he hates to see him hurt: how his entire soul wishes to see mike believe in himself and see himself as essential and needed. how he knows how eleven feels, how he has felt they have always had a kindred understanding, so what if he exchanges a few pronouns? mike needs this; their friendship is fine, it’s okay; it’s healed, it seems, and what really needs healing is mikes relationship with el. so he lies, and he tells the truth, and he unexpectedly cries because he flew too close to the sun, and he got burnt, so so bad because all these feelings rush out, even if they are not supposed to be his own. and mike means so much to him; makes him feel like he is not a mistake, gives him the courage to keep going and he just wants to give that to mike too, but he knows what mike needs is this; affirmations about el. so he focuses on her, he replaces her with (i) and white lies turn red and the desert blurs, along with every rule he has ever followed in regards to lying to mike.

and then mike is relaying the words to el, in response to what will said in the van, and it hurts. it does feel like a bandaid being ripped off because this is it, isn’t it? but it doesn’t hurt any less. but he can’t help but to read between the lines again, wondering the sincerity when he just spoke those lines previously. hasn’t mike always been better with articulation? didn’t he know words while wills knew colors?

it doesn’t matter though because this is not the moment to think on it; to wonder the authenticity because el is on the table; burning and wincing, unreachable, and even when mike says: i feel like my life started the day i found you in the woods, he doesn’t flinch because it doesn’t matter; his feelings don’t matter here. and even if they did. he cannot imagine a life before el or without either. she is his sister; his family; fabric of his life that feels should always exist; so he thinks he understands that.

he pushed mike for a reason; he knew he would be the one to reach her; he needed him to reach her. not only for their friends but for el. and whatever he needs to say to do that, he stands behind because there is no room for hurt feelings at the brink of death and destruction. what’s said during battle cannot be held against you. in the same way that he and mike never once discussed what mike said to him in the shed: (that was the best thing i’ve ever done)

but his heart has never known the rules so those words still carved into his bones; flooded his veins; ripped into his heart until there was nothing left but dust on the nights where mike felt so far away that if he called, he wouldn’t hear him; unlike before when he always came running. but he thinks that maybe if he called him now, he would be there. maybe just a little late but not too late.

#byler #stranger things #will byers #writing #anaylis?#idk #sometimes I just start and can’t stop and it becomes something

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years

Note

I’m jumping on the “coffee” band wagon because it’s just so good…continuation at upstairs at the downstairs or the papers talking about them all cuddled up at the bar?

Joel shoves the paper in her face when she shows up at the Button Club to do a set the next night.

"Et tu, Brute?" he snaps.

Midge takes two steps back, looking confused. "Did you just Julius Caesar me?"

"I did."

"and shove a newspaper in my face?"

"Yes."

Midge snatches it and reads, nodding slowly. "Yep. I figured that might happen. I did warn him."

"Who?" Joel asks. "Who did you warn? Lenny fucking Bruce?"

"Well. Yes," Midge nods. "I told him the papers would pick it up. And he didn't care."

"You and your Danish."

"You don't know it was a Danish," Midge tells him with her chin in the air.

"Of course it was a Danish!" Joel cries. "It's always a Danish!"

"Fine," Midge tell him, handing him the paper back. "It was an apple cinnamon Danish."

"Yuck," Joel snaps, grabbing the paper back.

"Lenny liked it," Midge tells him.

"I bet Lenny fucking Bruce likes a lot of things you like," Joel says.

Midge stares at him for a long moment, before snatching the paper back and heading for the stage.

"Shit," Joel snaps, chasing after her. "Shit. Midge. No."

She stomps on the stage without responding, taking the mike and smiling at the crowd. "Good evening, everybody!" she says to heavy applause. "I'm Mrs. Maisel - not to be confused with the future Doctor Maisel, my husband's fiance."

She gets a laugh out of that as Joel looks on, obviously quietly freaking out.

"Dating is hard, right?" she asks the audience, getting a confirmation. Right? Your divorced, you have kids, and you just - want to make some kind of a connection. The problem - aside from trying to schedule dates around work and potty training and your ex's schedule - is that everyone has an opinion. Everyone!" She shakes the newspaper. "Every-fucking-one!"

It gets a laugh and she laughs at herself a little.

"As someone who makes a living talking to strangers and looking at people in their homes through their television screens, it's even more difficult, because it's not just your mother who has an opinion. Of your incredibly insecure ex-husband who has absolutely no room to make judgements considering his wild behavior over the last handful of years - it's complete strangers."

She stares out at the audience accusingly. "It's allllll of you."

That gets a good laugh as well.

"Was I caught sharing a not-so-innocent pastry with a certain foul-mouthed fellow comedian last weekend? Yes. Did we leave together, to go do things that can be described with pastry as a euphemism?" She fans herself with the paper. "God, yes."

It gets some cheers from the ladies in the audience and some hoots from the men.

"Were the words "god yes" used multiple times during those pastry-adjacent activities?" She goes on. "You. Bet. Your. Ass."

More cheers.

"And that's the thing! I'm not ashamed of my sex life," she tells the crowd. "I'm an unmarried, adult woman. If I want to share a pastry with an attractive man there shouldn't be a gauntlet of approvals I have to go through. It is psychotic that my ex-husband - a man who left me, by the way. Up and left because he was unhappy with me - gets to wag his finger at me about my romantic choices. A handsome man brought me my favorite kind of Danish. And maybe we went back to his place and I sucked the pastry cream out of his éclair. It's no one's business. She says as she blurts it out to a room full of strangers."

She hears Lenny's laugh from the back along with the rest of the crowd, and sees Joel, still standing, mortified off to the side.

"But you know, Joel, I forgive you for the weird Shakespearean judgement," Midge goes on. "Being divorced has never been easy, and it must be kind of a mind fuck to be replaced with - what did you call him? Lenny fucking Bruce?"

She turns back to the audience. "Can you imagine just - Lenny fucking Bruce, brushing his teeth. Lenny fucking Bruce rummaging through the refrigerator for a snack at three in the morning. Lenny fucking Bruce with a tummy ache."

The audience laughs at that, and again, she can hear Lenny laughing more.

"Lenny fucking Bruce bringing you your favorite Danish, just because he wanted to. Because at the end of the day, he might be Lenny fucking Bruce to all of you, and in the papers, but he's really just Lenny. Just some guy who did something thoughtful and sweet." She shrugs. "It just earned him a muffin later that night."

The audience laughs hard at that and she gets a large round of applause.

"I'm Mrs. Maisel! You've been wonderful! Someone call an ambulance for my Ex. Thank you and goodnight!"

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny #and poor Joel

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aryanightshade · 5 months

Text

This Episode of Stranger Things is Called: Sleepover

{you have four new messages}

"Hey Eddie, it’s Steve, from next door. The kids want to go to the fair on Main Street to watch the fireworks. I’m taking them, but I wanted to call and ask if El would be okay, since I know she doesn’t like loud noises. We were gonna head down around two, when it starts. See you there!”

Beep.

“Hi, Steve again. It actually starts at four. My bad.”

Beep.

“Okay, so crisis averted. I found a pair of Nancy’s old shooting ear muffs and El tried them on she doesn’t mind them, so no need to worry. See you there!”

Beep.

"—No, Daddy, I wanna do it! Hi? Can El sleepover tonight? We’re gonna watch The Princess Bride and make popped corns!” “Say please, Max.” “Oh, yeah. Please!”

- - - -

The evening of July Fourth spills a fiery orange sunset across the sky, and Eddie walks hand-in-hand with Dustin at the tail of a conga line of children as they wind their way through crowds of American flags and drunk idiots trying to coral screaming, overexcited kids. He’s hot and tired, and a little drunk himself from the all the beers Steve’s been buying him, and he’s never been happier.

Main Street is shut down for the day, replaced by a little pop-up street fair full of food, games, and much to the children’s delight, a face painting booth.

Steve has Lucas perched on his back, face painted to look like Spiderman as he watches eagerly as Mike swings his legs from the chair in front of the booth. He’s getting some comic character Eddie doesn’t know, a blue guy with lots of little scales. Or maybe he’s just a lizard? He honestly isn’t sure, and is too blissed out to bother asking. Mike is enjoying himself, and that’s all that matters.

Dustin balances on the toe of Eddie’s combat boot, clinging to his arm as he sways back and forth, waiting for Mike finish being painted and yammering about the fireworks they’re going to watch.

A hand brushes over Eddie’s waist. “You good to watch them for a minute? I’ll be right back.” Steve’s voice curls around Eddie’s ear, sweet and soothing as he leans into Eddie’s space. He smells like beer and sunscreen and a hint of clean sweat.

Heat swirls in Eddie’s belly at the closeness. At the easy way that Steve drifts in and out of his space, always close enough to offer Eddie a light, casual touch. Brushing his fingers over Eddie’s arm, leaning into to laugh at Dustin’s antics. Passing Lucas into his arms with a smile as Eddie nods that, yeah, he’ll be alright for a minute.

Steve vanishes around a corner, and Eddie has a weird, brief flash of panic, zapping lightning fast across his senses. Less about being able to watch six toddlers and more residual anxiety tethered to Steve’s sudden absence. The knowledge that something could happen while he’s out of Eddie’s sight.

–Chrissy choking on her own vomit, lips blue as her eyes roll back into her skull, aspirating bile into her lungs, leaving him forever—

“Alrighty,” the girl working the face painting booth says, and Eddie blinks, snapping back into his body. “There you go, kiddo!” She steps back, giving the rest of them a good view of the blue paint covering Mike’s cheeks and eyes as he hops off her stool with a proud grin. “I’m Nightcrawler!”

Eddie catches the eye of the girl working the booth, and she shrugs at him with an amused grin that says, I tried. She can’t be older than her late teens, and judging from her pink pastel t-shirt and jeans, probably has never even heard of the X-Men. “You look awesome, dude,” Eddie tells Mike. If he squints, Mike does vaguely resemble Nightcrawler. Vaguely.

The kids crowd around him like a little flock of ducklings, and Eddie does a quick head count to make sure he has everyone. El has her face painted like a frog, Max like a tiger, and Will and Dustin both have festive stars and stripes running down their cheeks. Eddie smiles at their antics as their swirl around him in a tornado of tiny limbs. A man on stilts teeters by, dresses as Uncle Sam, the kids ooh and ahh.

Dustin starts to make a break for it, hypnotized by the sparklers in the man’s hand, but Eddie snags him by the back of his shirt. “I don’t think so.” Before Dustin can protest, Eddie hoists him to the air by his ankles, blocking his escape attempt. Dustin giggles, wiggling like a feral cat in Eddie’s grip.

Read on Ao3

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #spoilers they almost bang in this one #finally #its mostly eddie going insane from lust tbh #also featuring stever harringtons breeding kink #steddie big bang #steddiebang23

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noretreatnancy · 2 years

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i’ve been reading through your nancy posts, and i absolutely love your characterization of her. i had this sort of half-baked idea floating around in my head so i’m going to try my best to articulate it here. do you think some part of nancy saw robin as steve’s barb? at least, initially? the parallels are there, even if nancy didn’t know them herself. band geeks, outcasts, lesbians, could easily be typecast as the “best friend”. not that nancy was aware of any of that. but i feel like nancy could have easily watched robin and steve grow closer while she drifted socially, using the newspaper as her anchor and allowing people to talk to her, but never get close. i’m ignoring the first time nancy and robin met, as i think the circumstances well excused nancy’s otherwise rude tone of voice. but when they met again, i wonder if a part of nancy felt worse knowing that steve and robin weren’t a couple. in nancy’s mind, steve had found himself a barb. only this barb was a hell of a lot more talkative, and also alive. privy to the upside down and on good terms with all of mike’s friends.

and i think the thing about nancy only ever having barb as a, well, barb, in her life made things more complicated. she’s bound to see any friend that gets close to her as a parallel to barb, and it stops her from ever getting that close to friends. steve found a best friend, a someone to have his back no matter what. and maybe a part of nancy is jealous because that’s not her, but mostly it’s because she lost that. she’s been chasing that closeness and relationship ever since she lost barb, and to watch steve have that probably hurts. not that steve doesn’t deserve a relationship like that ofc, but nancy definitely didn’t deserve to lose hers. i feel like the point has definitely gotten away from me, but. nancy has been yearning for a barb for years, while simultaneously ripping any hope that she could have that to shreds. she let herself have boyfriends, and maybe a part of her thought that having a boyfriend was different from having a best friend. maybe there was some fear of betraying barb by replacing her? idek. but nancy sees steve moving on, sees him growing and being able to have emotionally stable and intimate relationships with people who aren’t his girlfriend. and nancy wants that kind of growth, that ability to move on and act like she’s okay again. because really, when it comes down to it, nancy hasn’t been properly okay since barb died, and it’s so easy to see that in the way that she distances herself from everyone

that is kinda a lot of words and half nonsense! i hope it makes some semblance of sense. i can’t dream of having such clear and concise characterization like you do, but i do love thinking about nancy and coming up with all of these what if/maybe/i think tangents

I think you’re absolutely spot on! I agree with everything you’re saying, especially about Nancy longing for that friendship. I’d even take it a step further with her seeing Robin as a “Barb” (this is about to be some total speculation/head cannon stuff that I can’t really back up except to say it makes sense to me lol). I think the reason Nancy is so wary of Robin in he beginning is because she DOES see her as similar to Barb, kind of awkward nerd pulled into their crazy world on accident. I think Nancy resented Steve for bringing someone else into it, and risking someone else’s life. 100% i believe that Nancy blames herself for Steve’s involvement in everything, and so indirectly she is now responsible for ANOTHER life being in danger. I think the difference between Nancy and Steve is that Steve never really considered the consequences of involving Robin in everything the way I think Nancy would have. The reason Nancy doesn’t have close friends outside of those in the know (Jonathan) is because shes very much aware of the danger she would place someone in if they learned about/got involved in the things she does. So to her, Robin was just one more person on the line that she had to feel responsible for. BUT in season 4, she actually gets to know Robin, and see that’s she much more capable that she maybe gave her credit for, and Nancy comes to understand what an asset Robin is to the group. I think Robin is just the first person other than Jonathan (and Steve but they don’t really spend much time together it seems) that Nancy can kind of relax and let go around and trust with her secrets/plans/rely on to help take some of the burden off her shoulders

#idk if any of that actually makes sense or feels true to character but #also thank you for sending this I think your points were so spot on #everything about Nancy is colored by her loss of Barb it’s actually so painful #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #roance #or Ronance adjacent I guess

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ailendolin · 2 years

Text

Whump Wednesday - 36 - BBC Ghosts

Title: Stuck [AO3]

Characters: German Pilots Wolfgang & Helmut, Alison, Mike

Prompt: The story of the two German pilots.

A/N 1: This is a very self-indulgent fic I've been wanting to write for ages. I know they barely had 30 seconds of screen time but I adore them and they deserve to have their story told.

A/N 2: The part about smashing the picture was something my own grandmother witnessed her mother doing when she got the news of her only son having been killed on the Eastern Front. The postman saw it all and took my grandmother, a young girl then, aside and told her to never mention it to anybody else and claim the picture broke by accident if anyone ever asked because he knew it could get her mother into trouble, possibly taken away to be never seen or heard from again.

Prompts are open, so if you want me to write a story for you as well just send me an ask with the fandom, characters and your prompt. I’m writing for Ghosts, Yonderland, Horrible Histories and Bill at the moment.

Six Idiots Whump Wednesday / Fluff Friday masterlist is here.

————

Stuck

It was supposed to be their final mission: fly over London, drop their bombs, come home. The Staffelkapitän had made it sound so easy.

“After this, you get to go home to your families, boys!”

The words were running through Helmut’s head when the enemy’s Flak hit his plane’s right wing and made it burst into flame right in front of his eyes. He exchanged one look with Wolfgang and grim understanding passed between them. There would be no getting out of this one. They would be going down.

He shouted for their crew to bail out, hoping it wasn’t too late.

Only two of them made it.

Helmut knew he would never learn what became of them, whether or not they managed to land safely on the ground, avoid the British Forces and somehow find their way back home against all odds. He desperately hoped they did.

Let them live, he prayed.

With London’s suburbs rushing up with terrifying speed Helmut barely had time to search for Wolfgang’s eyes one last time amid the smoke before their plane crashed first into one tree and then against another with more force than any human body could withstand. There was a moment of blinding, white-hot pain and then–

Everything around them became dark and still.

————

“Oh shit,” Helmut heard Wolfgang gasp when he came to and his first conscious thought was, Thank god we survived.

It took him three very long seconds to realise something was not right. He couldn’t feel anything – no pain, no thirst, no heat from the fire that was still merrily crackling away on the right wing behind him. Panicking, Helmut looked to his left, to the one person who had been by his side when their plane had gone down, and found Wolfgang staring back at him with wide eyes. His face was ashen.

Alarmingly, it looked like there were two of him.

Helmut shook his head, trying to clear the fog in his mind. He must be seeing things. He probably had a nasty concussion after that horrible crash-landing and just couldn’t feel it because he was in shock.

Behind him in the back of the plane, his crewmates Werner and Karl groaned. Shifting in his seat, Helmut tried to make them out among the flames and smoke but couldn’t see anything. He reached for his seat belt so he could go and help them and felt his hand pass right through it.

His heart missed a beat.

“What the –?” he muttered and tried again. Perhaps his concussion was worse than he’d thought.

“It’s no use,” Wolfgang said quietly from beside him. He sounded oddly defeated. “I think we’re dead.”

Helmut froze. He stared at his co-pilot, the one who had been assigned to his plane as a last minute replacement for Hans who was currently surrounded by pretty nurses in their base’s medical wing thanks to a stomach bug, of all things. Wolfgang was basically a stranger to him but the past few hours had shown him that he could rely on him if need be. Wolfgang had acted admirably under pressure, had remained calm, collected and level-headed even in the face of death, so to see him losing it right now unsettled Helmut a lot more than he’d like to admit.

“Clearly we’re not,” he said as calmly as he could. “I’m still breathing and so are you.”

He pointed at Wolfgang’s rising and falling chest but Wolfgang shook his head. “No, you don’t get it.”

Without warning, he opened his jacket and reached for Helmut’s hand. Before Helmut had a chance to protest, Wolfgang was pressing his palm against his chest. “What do you feel?”

Helmut struggled against his hold. “Let me go!”

“What do you feel, goddammit?” Wolfgang all but growled.

Deciding humouring him might be his best course of action, Helmut stopped struggling and concentrated on what he felt instead. There was the familiar texture of Wolfgang’s shirt against his palm, the motion of his chest rising and falling with every breath he took and beneath that–

Beneath that, there was nothing at all. No heartbeat. No sign of life.

Helmut’s eyes snapped up. Upon seeing the shocked expression on his face, Wolfgang finally let go of his hand and sank back into his seat, breathing heavily. “Dead. Like I said.”

Slowly, Helmut drew back his hand. Pushing shaking fingers against his wrist, his neck, then his other wrist, he tried feeling for a pulse that wasn’t there.

“How –?” he began and faltered when Wolfgang leaned forward and waved his hand through the cracked glass of their plane’s windshield. Not only did his hand pass right through it but his body – the real one made of flesh and blood – remained in his seat.

Helmut stared at it but no matter how often he blinked or rubbed his eyes, there were two Wolfgangs next to him: the dead one and the–

“Ghost,” he choked out suddenly. His eyes widened in horror. “You’re a ghost!”

Wolfgang looked more world-weary than anyone in his mid-twenties had a right to when he slumped back in his seat. “Now you get it.”

————

Werner and Karl didn’t stay.

When their groans eventually faded into silence, Helmut thought they might have become ghosts too. It was the logical conclusion: you died, you became a ghost. Just like in those scary stories he’d been told as a child and never believed for one second could be real.

Except Werner and Karl didn’t.

When their hearts stopped two white lights appeared amid the flames of their smouldering plane, one shortly after the other. Helmut and Wolfgang got one last quick glimpse at their comrades’ peaceful faces through the dying flames before they disappeared, leaving nothing but their burnt bodies behind.

Helmut gulped and turned away from the gruesome sight.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, then,” Wolfgang said.

He looked like he might throw up.

————

Within the hour, British troops had surrounded their plane.

“Do you think they’ll pull it down?” Wolfgang asked.

Helmut tried to get a look at the tiny people several metres below them but couldn’t quite make them out through the cracked glass of his side window.

“You know, you can just stick your head through it,” Wolfgang suggested after a moment.

Helmut eyed the glass wearily before he shook his head. “No, thank you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Wolfgang grabbed his shoulder and pushed him forward. Helmut’s stomach dropped and he closed his eyes on instinct. He anticipated sharp pain against his temple, maybe the lurching sensation of falling to his death but nothing happened.

“See?” Wolfgang said, sounding just a little smug. “It’s not that hard.”

Helmut glared at him and pushed his hand off his shoulder. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Hi co-pilot merely rolled his eyes again. Before he could come up with some witty comeback the plane under their feet suddenly moved. They had no time to panic, scream or even close their eyes before the bomber crashed through the foliage and onto the ground below them, taking their bodies with it but leaving their souls hanging in the air.

Shaking, Helmut looked at him. “So, uh, this happened.”

Wolfgang, pale as a, well, ghost, nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Their eyes met. “Fuck.”

————

Their plane was gone and yet it was also still there. Helmut could still feel his seat under him even though he was clearly hovering in the air half a metre above a broken branch.

It didn’t make any sense.

And that wasn’t all. There was definitely a floor under his feet and judging by the tentative steps Wolfgang was currently taking towards what used to be their bomb bay, said floor extended to the end of their plane. Which was lying several metres below them on the ground.

Could ghosts get headaches? Because Helmut swore he could feel one coming on right now.

————

It wasn’t all bad, though. At least that’s what Helmut tried to tell himself as they tried to settle down for the night that evening. The view from the tree was quite nice, actually, and the sunset rather beautiful. Every now and then some squirrels and birds looked curiously at them, giving him hope that one day, some person might actually be able to see them and maybe even tell them how to get out of this awful predicament they had found themselves in.

————

A few days later, it rained for the first time. Helmut hadn’t been prepared for how weird it would feel to have raindrops falling through him, and by the looks of it, neither had Wolfgang. It might not be enough to make him feel nauseous but the sensation was still uncomfortable enough for him to curl up in his seat in a pitiful and ultimately useless attempt to protect himself from Mother Nature.

“This sucks,” Wolfgang groaned beside him.

Thunder rolled in the distance.

“Give it a few minutes and it will suck even more,” Helmut said.

Sometimes, he hated being right.

————

“We need to get out of here,” Wolfgang said the next day. The tone of his voice clearly said this was neither a suggestion nor would it be a negotiation. “Get on the ground, find some shelter …”

Helmut glanced first at the tree and then at the ground several metres below them. “And how do you propose we do that? We can’t exactly climb down, now can we?”

He passed his foot through the branch under him to prove his point. It still felt weird to do that.

“We jump,” Wolfgang said, his jaw set.

Helmut blinked at him. Then he blinked again because Wolfgang looked completely serious. “You’re insane.”

“Am I?” Wolfgang challenged. “What’s the worst that can happen? We die? Newsflash, Helmut: we’re already dead.”

While Helmut had to admit that he had a point there, the mere thought of jumping down from this height and simply hoping for the best made his non-existent heartrate quicken – especially when he saw Wolfgang standing up and peering over the imaginary edge of their ghost plane’s hull with a stubborn, determined look on his face.

“Don’t do this,” Helmut begged.

Wolfgang briefly glanced at him. “I’m not going to be stuck here for the rest of time, Helmut.”

Because of you.

The words might have gone unspoken but Helmut still heard them loud and clear. He had been wondering for a while now if Wolfgang resented him for the choices he’d made that day; the choices that had gotten most of their crew including the two of them killed. Now he had his answer.

“Please don’t,” he whispered.

“You can stay here if you want but I’m going,” Wolfgang declared. He took a deep breath, gave one final mock salute, and then stepped out of the invisible plane. Helmut followed his descent, both hoping he would and wouldn’t make it. He hated himself a little for the latter.

A first it looked like Wolfgang would reach the ground. Then, a mere two metres away from it, some invisible force turned his body around and propelled it right back into his seat.

Wolfgang blinked.

“What the hell?” he said, baffled. Then, without another word, he jumped again. And again. And again.

It was dark by the time he finally admitted defeat.

“I’m sorry,” Helmut whispered as the first stars twinkled into existence above them, just like they used to at home. He was sorry for a lot of things these days – for bodging their mission, for letting their plane get hit, for not only getting himself stuck in this weird form of existence but Wolfgang as well. But mostly he was sorry for the utter relief he felt at not having to face eternity alone.

Beside him, Wolfgang sighed heavily and rested his weight against his shoulder. “I know.”

————

“Do you have someone waiting for you at home?” Helmut asked the next evening. The sun was just about to set beyond the horizon and above their heads, familiar planes were soaring across the sky during yet another bomb run.

“It’s just been my grandma and me for a while,” Wolfgang said quietly. “You?”

“My mother, and four sisters,” Helmut said. “My father is in the Kriegsmarine. A Maat. It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen him. And then there’s Marie.”

Wolfgang glanced at him. “Girlfriend?”

Helmut smiled sadly. “Fiancé, actually. You know, before we went on this mission, I sent her a package with a new pair of shoes – brilliantly white high heels.” He paused as the first bombs exploded on the horizon. “We were supposed to get married next month.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, mate.”

“Yeah,” Helmut choked out. “Me too. Do you think they’ve been notified yet?”

Wolfgang shrugged. “Probably.”

Helmut imagined his mother, her face lined with worry rather than laughter after years of war, opening the door one morning to find the postman standing there with his cap pulled off and an official-looking letter in his hand. He imagined her tearing it open and reading it, perhaps with his youngest sister standing next to her wide-eyed and looking scared; imagined her walking back into the house without a word and pulling down the Führer’s picture from the wall to smash it onto the ground – an action that could very well get her killed.

“I hope they’ll be safe.”

Wolfgang gave him an odd look but remained quiet as London went up in flames around them.

————

Time passed. London burned and eventually got rebuilt. The war ended. Their tree fell.

“Do you think we’ll be stuck here forever?” Helmut asked one morning as they watched the sun rise over the buildings in the east.

Wolfgang shrugged. “Werner and Karl moved on so chances are, we’ll be able to one day as well. Right?”

Helmut looked down at his tightly clasped hands. “I know you blame me for being here but I’m glad I’m not alone, Wolfgang. I really am.”

With a sigh, Wolfgang wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “What happened wasn’t your fault, Helmut. I was just angry back then. Sorry.”

Swallowing hard, Helmut allowed himself to lean his forehead against Wolfgang’s temple.

“Just don’t move on before me,” he quietly begged.

“Promise,” Wolfgang whispered. They were both quiet for a moment, letting the weight of it all sink in, before Wolfgang pulled back. He rested his head on Helmut’s shoulder and, in an attempt to lighten up the mood, said, “Now be a good pillow and let me sleep. Us old folks need more rest then you young hotspurts can imagine.”

Helmut snorted. “You’re barely a year older than I am!”

“When you get to my age, young man, you’ll understand,” Wolfgang said in a gravelly voice that was supposed to sound elderly but only managed to make him sound rather silly. He shifted around a little, trying to get comfortable on nothing but air, the ghost of their plane under their feet and Helmut’s shoulder.

“Sweet dreams, grandpa,” Helmut said fondly once he’d settled down.

“You too, kid.”

————

Over 70 years later, a young woman walked up to the window in the building to their left. Helmut probably wouldn’t have even noticed her if she hadn’t been looking directly at him. His eyes widened and he nudged Wolfgang awake with his arm.

“Wolfgang! The young lady there can see us!”

This had never happened before.

“Hallo!” they called out to her with big smiles on their faces and waved their hands.

She smiled a little unhappily before she returned the greeting with a little wave of her own.

“Oh, she is waving!” Helmut exclaimed. He grabbed Wolfgang’s arm in excitement. They could actually talk to someone for once! They could –

The woman turned away from the window.

“No!” Helmut shouted. “No! Come back! Come back!”

She didn’t, though, and he and Wolfgang sank back into their invisible seats in disappointment.

“Did you see that?” Helmut whispered, still in awe of what had just happened. “She saw us! She waved at us! Do you think she’ll come back?”

Wolfgang shook his head. “We probably scared her off.”

“She didn’t look scared,” Helmut said. “She must have seen ghosts before.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Wolfgang said, staring at the ground below them with an unreadable expression on his face. His face was more closed off than Helmut had seen it in decades. “It’s not like she can help us anyway.”

Feeling dejected, Helmut let his shoulders hang and sighed. “Yeah. You’re probably right. Still, it was nice to be seen for once.”

————

Wolfgang was, in fact, not right. A year or so later – time was difficult to measure several metres up in the air away from any people – the woman showed up again. And this time, she brought news.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay longer when we first met,” she – Alison, they’d learned – said. She was standing on the rooftop this time, with her husband by her side. “It’s a bit weird talking to ghosts in public, you know?”

The device in her husband’s hand - some sort of telephone Helmut had seen people use before – translated her words into German. The translation wasn’t completely correct but still accurate enough that he and Wolfgang could get the gist of what she was saying.

“We did some research on you and your crew and wondered if you’d like to know what we found out.”

Helmut’s eyes widened and he turned to Wolfgang with a smile.

“Did you hear that?” he asked and without waiting for a reply shouted. “Yes, please! There were others in the plane with us – Johannes and Herbert. They made it out. Do you know what happened to them?”

Alison looked down at their notes. “Just give me a moment to find – ah, here they are. Johannes and Herbert. Let’s see … they spent the next few years as POWs here in England, I’m afraid. Good news is, they were sent back home after the war and both lived long and happy lives.”

Her husband tapped her on the arm to get her attention. “They do know Germany lost, don’t they?”

Even though he was whispering, his telephone picked up his voice and loudly translated the sentence.

“Oh yes, we know,” Wolfgang said dismissively. It had been hard to miss, really. “Did you manage to find out anything about our families?”

They learned that Wolfgang’s grandmother had passed away in 1944.

“I couldn’t find out why, sorry,” Alison said.

Helmut’s father had apparently survived the war and both he and his mother continued working the farm for a few more years until they’d lost their lives to, “An unspecified illness,” Alison said.

His sisters all had married and all but one of them lived happily into their mid-eighties.

“And my fiancé?” Helmut said quietly. He almost didn’t dare to ask.

“Marie, right. She married a man named Georg after the war,” Alison said. “She died five years ago so I couldn’t talk to her directly but I managed to contact her daughter and she told me her mother never forgot you. The family still has your picture.”

She pulled a large piece of paper out of her bag and unfolded it. Her husband pointed the light of his device at It and Helmut gasped.

“That’s … that’s our engagement picture,” he breathed.

Wolfgang put an arm around his shoulders. “She looks very happy, mate. You both do.”

Helmut swallowed down a sob. “We were.”

“She never forgot you,” Alison repeated with a kind smile.

“Thank you,” Helmut said hoarsely. “Thank you so much.”

————

That night, he woke up to a tingling feeling all over his body. When he blinked his eyes open there was a bright light in front of him – no, two of them. He grabbed Wolfgang’s hand to shake him awake. “Look!”

They had been waiting for this moment so long.

“Ready?” Wolfgang asked.

Helmut tightened his hold. “Yes.”

They shared one last look.

“See you on the other side, then,” Wolfgang grinned and pulled him forward.

For the first and last time since their crash, they stepped off their plane together. Helmut closed his eyes and let the light take him, knowing whatever came next, he wouldn’t have to face it alone.

#the german pilots #german pilot wolfgang #german pilot helmut #alison cooper #mike cooper #bbc ghosts #my fic #whump wednesday #wwff challenge

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