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multific · 1 year

Text

Attached to You

Modern!AU

Billy Hargrove x Reader

A/N: I'm not a doctor nor am I medically trained, so, there are things here which are incorrect. Please ignore them and try to enjoy the piece as it is. Thank you.

Summary: After a one-night stand, you find out you are pregnant, thanks to your doctor's bad advice, it turned out that your pills weren't effective. Leaving you with a baby, you have lots of decisions to make.

"I only told you because you deserve to know. I don't want anything from you. I will deal with this myself."

Your words rang in his head over and over again.

It had been almost two weeks since he last saw you and now, he wasn't sure what he was doing.

Billy couldn't stop thinking about you. How you smiled at him even when he could see you were close to a breakdown.

It was all meant to be one night. Something he had done many many times before.

When he saw you sitting alone at the bar, he was quick to make his move. Flirting with you was easy as you blushed at every word he said. He soon learned about an ex of yours, the guy, as you explained, was rather obsessive about you and didn't want to let go of you, which is why you were hiding in a bar.

And so, Billy took this as a sign and brought you home.

It wasn't meant to end like this. He always made sure to have a condom with him. All the time. Of course, the one time when he doesn't, he gets someone pregnant...

But even so, you didn't look mad, you didn't demand money or anything from him. You just smiled and moved on.

He didn't even know your name. All he had is a phone number.

"You can delete my number as well. I won't look for you. All I wanted is for you to know since you are the father."

Father.

A word that scared him.

A word which meant nothing to him as he too, never had a father.

The realization hit him like a cold shower, he didn't have a father, so he knows just how hard it is to grow up without one, and here he was, the exact same as his.

He will have a child, who won't know their father. Who will go through the same pain as he did. Who will see their mother slowly crumble under all the pressure.

He is no better than his own asshole father.

This was unfair.

He could run. Men could run from the responsibility since they weren't attached to the baby, but women couldn't.

---

Billy felt like a piece of shit.

It had been almost two months since he last saw you.

And he couldn't help but wonder what 'dealing with it' meant for you. Did it mean you got an abortion? Or did you keep the child?

This was eating him alive.

He needed to find you and have another conversation with you. But you didn't pick up the phone nor did you reply to any text he sent.

He set out to the club he originally met you.

"Why the fuck did I think a pregnant woman would be in a club?!"

IF you were still pregnant.

The next couple days were awful for him.

Trying to find you, he went to the café you invited him to, no sign, he went to a hospital and asked if they knew about you. But of course, they couldn't give out any information.

You were all he could think about.

You and the baby he might have already lost.

Billy didn't feel like himself.

And then, one day, he spotted you. As he was walking down the street when he noticed you on the other side.

He followed you like a creep.

Dodging people, running. He followed you. Tried to call out but since he didn't know your name, it was difficult.

You went into a pharmacy and he stopped by the front door. His heart was beating fast, not only from running.

"Hi. I have some pills prescribed for me." he could hear you say. The pharmacist took a look and turned to you.

"Can I ask for your full name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

"You have... pregnancy vitamins prescribed by Dr Drew."

"Correct." you smiled. Oh God, that smile taunted him.

"Alright, let me get that for you."

He felt himself calm a little. Pregnancy vitamins. Why did they have to prescribe those for you anyway? But this meant you still had the baby.

"So, since this kind is... stronger, we recommend you take only one daily. If you skip a day do not take two the next day. Technically these are not vitamins, they are just called that. Is your pregnancy i-"

"The doctor said these are the best for my condition. So I need to take them."

"These are for you not the baby." she was rather rude as you tried to ignore her.

"I know."

"Alright, anything else I can give you?"

"Do you have any of those shooting creams? For when the skin stretches?"

"For the stretch marks? We have one, which is cold and another which is warm. One helps shoot the skin the other helps the marks to be less visible."

"I would like the one that shoots the skin, please. That would be all."

Billy watched as you paid for everything before he quickly exited so you wouldn't notice him.

Pregnancy vitamins... for you not for the baby. And you had a condition?

He watched as you walked away, but as you did a man ran into you. The man continued on while you nearly fell over.

"Watch where you are going, Asshole!" Billy pushed the man as he passed him, before he helped you. "Are you okay?"

He only realized that he was now holding your arm as you looked up at him. When did he get this close to you?

"O-Oh, yes. I'm fine thanks." he saw it in your eyes, you realized who he was soon after as you took a step back. "Thank you." you adjusted your bag before starting to walk and he knew he couldn't let you leave.

"Can we-Can we talk, Y/N?" he suddenly spoke up and you turned to him.

"If you want to." he nodded and you guided him to a nearby park and sat down on a bench.

An awkward silence filled the air.

He knew he needed to talk.

He took a deep breath.

"I was scared when you said you would deal with it, that you meant... abortion."

"I'm not going to lie, I thought about every option. It was one of them but... I decided against it."

"I-I heard you at the pharmacy..."

"Oh, you were there?" you looked up at him, genuinely surprised.

"You got some meds..." he nodded as he pointed at your bag.

"I-The doctor said it is okay to take pregnancy vitamins. But it turned out that I was the one needing them, not the baby. The doctor said my body puts the baby as a priority and takes away nutrition from me. We found out during my eight weeks when I asked the doctor if it was normal that I feel very dizzy. He did some checks and yeah. But... why are you asking me this?"

"Because for the last weeks, I couldn't stop thinking about you and the baby."

"You don't have to. You are not guilty or anything."

"I grew up without a father. I saw my mother going through so much shit. I don't want you to go through all that. I want to be a father to my child. Someone I never had."

You took a moment to fully digest what he just said. He waited anxiously for an answer.

"Look, I will have a baby soon, a baby who can become attached. If they become attached to you and then you later decide that you don't want to do this... I believe that is worse. So, while I do appreciate your concerns, I was nothing more to you than a quick fuck. It is... unfortunate, that I got pregnant, but as I said it is something I am dealing with. So, please, if you don't mean it, don't get involved. You might think now that you want to be a part of this because you pity me or whatever, but if you change your mind..."

"I don't want to change my mind. Yes, it was meant to be a one-night stand but I can't ignore a child. My child. I'm not a coward. I want to be a part of the life of this little one."

You looked into his eyes, trying to figure him out. He looked serious. Maybe he really had a change of heart during the last couple months. You pulled out your wallet and a picture from it. You handed it to him.

He looked at the ultrasound.

"I'm currently 11 weeks along. The baby is 41mm long. The doctor said it's the size of a fig. We don't know the gender just yet, but they are healthy."

"Healthy. Good." he wanted to hand back the photo but you didn't take it.

"I have more at home, you can have that. I have a check-up next week, you could come if you have time."

"I'll be there."

You stood up and were about to walk away when you turned to look at him.

"If you don't come next week. I mean without a good reason, I don't want you to come after. I am already very attached to this little fig, and I don't want them hurt."

"I'll be there, text me the time and place."

You nodded before saying goodbye and walking away.

He stayed, looking at the picture.

"My little fig." he smiled before he too, headed home.

---

Honestly, you were shocked to see him at the doctor's the next week.

Every time he showed up.

He started to take you out to eat afterwards and started to ask more and more questions.

Billy asked you to move into his place which you didn't want but you did go over to his place many times.

You spent most of your weekends there. And lately, you even spent your nights there. In a separate room, but you did stay.

"What are you doing?"

"Shhhh! I heard babies can hear voices, I'm talking to them so they would recognize me when they are born." you shook your head as you continued to look at stuff on your phone. Subconsciously, one of your hands found his hair. You started to run your fingers through his locks as he continued to softly speak to the baby.

"We should get married." you nearly threw your phone at the TV.

"What?" you sat up so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash. He moved with you as he sat in front of you. The expression on his face was as serious as ever.

"You heard me. Marry me?"

"Why would I... What? No. Just because of the baby? That is-"

"Logical. We get married, you take my last name and the baby does too. It is logical."

"Did you hit your head or something?"

"What? Why?"

"You? Marriage?"

"Yes."

"Like in the old days? You get the woman pregnant and so you have to marry her?"

"I was thinking more about the baby and you. In case something happens to me, you two would be good on money."

"I don't want your money."

"I know you don't, I am giving it to you and the baby. We don't have to, but you can think about it."

"I honestly don't know."

"I know you probably wanted to marry out of love, fuck I never wanted to get married but here I am. With a baby on the way and with you. You are such an amazing girl, Y/N. I'm happy that you are the mother of my baby."

'"I'm very glad to hear that Billy, however, marriage is a big thing. Now don't get me wrong I have heard about people getting married for less and I'm not the biggest in the love department either. I truly believe you should marry someone you can see yourself for the rest of your life with and not be crazy in love with them but..."

"You told me this before. You said 'but you still believe that there should be love for marriage and not like love between friends.' And then you started crying because you couldn't explain yourself fully and I had to get you ice cream."

"Exactly."

"What would make you want to marry me?"

You placed your hand on his cheek.

"You might think now that its a good idea. You might think now that you would want me by your side forever, but I know Billy that one day, you would look at me and be disappointed that you married me because of our baby. One day you will be in a club, surrounded by girls and drinks and you won't think of me or our child, I want a loyal husband, and I wouldn't want you to throw the accusation at me, saying that you only married me for the baby and you would end up hating me."

"You believe that would happen? That I would regret it all and I would... what? Blame you for it?"

"Yes."

"You think that lowly of me?"

"No, I think that lowly of myself." you let out a sigh. "Look Billy, tell me that we are not here just because of the baby. You wouldn't be here if I wasn't pregnant. You would be out there as you were before. You don't want me, you want the baby. And that is completely fine. And it is all I can ask for. For you to love the kid. That's it."

"But I do love you. You are the mother of my child. How can I not?"

"Billy, please. You only care for me because of the baby. And I know that and it's okay."

Billy wanted to tell you that it wasn't true. That he truly cared for you. More than you could imagine.

He wanted to lift all of your insecurities and show you just how amazing you were.

But he did. Because he was afraid.

Not of losing his old life, but of losing you.

If you didn't believe him like this, he will prove his love in other ways.

---

You smiled as you saw the roses on the table. They looked amazing.

Beautiful white roses with a little note.

You debated picking it up and reading it until you saw your name on the paper.

'To my beautiful wife' it read on the inside and it made you scoff.

Since when did he become such a romantic?

You let out a long sigh.

Billy was trying way too hard. You were afraid one day he will realize this is not what he wants and just pack up and leave.

You were terrified that he will make you get used to his closeness and then pull away, leaving you to fall alone.

You really tried to keep your distance, to not fall in love or to not harbour feelings that would hurt you.

You really tried but it was very difficult because each time you saw his eyes sparkle as he looked at you, each time at the doctor's when he asked something about you or the baby, it made you feel so safe and happy.

When he asked you to marry him, you were ready to say yes. It was your first thought when he asked the question but then you realized your situation.

He doesn't love you to get married. He wants the baby around and that's fine.

You felt like you were lulling yourself into false realities and you couldn't let that happen.

Not with you becoming a mother.

Not with you knowing about his past. It felt like wherever you went you could see girls staring at you, eyeing you up and down. The dark thought of who he had slept with was always in the back of your head.

You knew you should let it go.

But it is easier said than done.

You were making lunch when Billy arrived home.

"Here you are. I actually wanted to go out for food, but I guess its too late now."

"Yeah, maybe tomorrow. Thank you for the flowers." you gave him a small smile.

"Did you like it?"

"Yes, they are beautiful."

"And the card?"

"Card?"

"Yes, wrote it myself actually. Did you like it?"

You turned back to the oven and got the pan out. Billy only shook his head as he smirked before he left to take a quick shower.

Soon, he joined you at the table.

Eating the chicken you made.

"I have an appointment tomorrow."

"I know. It's baby gender time." he smiled.

"Yeah. What would you prefer? A boy or a girl?"

"Either is fine really. What about you?"

"I thought I wanted a son, but lately I have been imagining a little girl and I realized I would be fine with any really."

"Should we have one of those crazy gender reveal parties?"

"Oh gosh, no! You know I hate to be the centre of attention. I'm fine if the doctor tells us."

"Just an idea. Then I can at least finish their room."

"Oh, I did order more things. I wanted to wait for you with the furniture though. Since you want to paint the room."

"We will know the gender tomorrow, so I can paint this weekend, then we can look at furniture and finish it up in a couple weeks." he nodded. "We are a good team, Y/N."

"Yeah, we are." you agreed as you finished your chicken and went to wash your plates.

Soon, you felt his arms move around you as you put the dishes to dry.

The way he held you, you let yourself imagine what if he loved you. What if the baby wasn't an accident? What if he wanted to be here for you?

"Y/N, marry me."

"Billy," you groaned as you turned in his arms, seeing the serious expression on his face you fell silent.

"I am serious. I love you both so much, please, marry me." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, it was a jewellery box so it had to be a ring. And as he opened it, sure enough, it was. A rather expensive looking one at that. "I want to give you and our child the world. I want us to be a real family. Would you marry me?" You needed a moment to think.

"Yes. I will marry you." he smiled as he placed the ring on your finger, pulling you in for a breath-taking kiss.

"I love you so much." he said as his lips moved to your neck. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs as he lifted you and carried you to the bedroom.

"I love you too," you whispered to him as he began to remove your clothes, kissing your baby bump.

His eyes were filled with love, you couldn't look away.

---

The next day, you lay on the examination table with butterflies in your stomach.

You will finally know if you are having a girl or a boy.

Billy stood beside you, holding your hand as he smiled.

"As you can see, the head, two little hands and legs." the doctor said pointing everything out on the screen. "Are we ready to know the gender?"

"Yes." you said as Billy squeezed your hand.

"Let's see... Looks to be a little girl." she said as you looked at Billy whose eyes were glued to the monitor, smiling softly to himself.

"Then we can get the pink shoes you have been eyeing." you said as he finally looked at you.

During a recent trip to the mall, you found him in the kid's section when you were looking for some clothes. You found him standing there with a pink princess shoe in his hand as he smiled at the pink glittery object.

"Looks like we can." he said before he moved to place a kiss on your forehead.

You were really glad you judged him wrong.

You were glad he turned out to be a loving person and he grew into his potential. You knew he will be an amazing father and husband.

Judging by the small smile on his face, it said it all.

The little girl had him wrapped around her tiny little fingers and she wasn't even born yet.

When the doctor left to print out the photos for you, he turned to you, kissing your lips.

"I love you so much." he said before moving back to look at the screen. In the end, it was Billy who became attached to you and your daughter. You felt a wave of happiness wash over you as all of your insecurities and worries left your body.

All that was left was happiness.

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thewritetofreespeech · 1 year

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Hi! I'm here to request a headcanon for my favorite boys from KnB!! How would GOM + Kagami react to gn!reader getting injured while playing basketball with the boys?

GOM + Kagami injured s/o headcanons

Akashi

Akashi smirked to himself as he watched the ball swish through the net, completing the play. Another flawless move in his expert strategy on the court.

He turned around to look at his teammates for the practice game, and was surprised to see them not in awe of his skill as usual, but instead their attention surrounded by his s/o on the ground. “What happened?”

“My ankle….” [Y/N] wheezed as they held their leg to their chest.

Akashi’s eyes went wide. The ankle break. He didn’t even realize he was doing it until he whoosed past them. They must have fallen wrong due to him tripping them up and gotten really injured.

“Go get a nurse.” He ordered to another teammate, and they all rush off in tandem to find a nurse (or escape his sharp gaze). “[Y/N] I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know. It’s ok. I should have known since it’s your signature move.”

“My signature move is not hurting people.” Akashi rebutted, and placed his hand over theirs. “Let me take a look, before the nurse gets here. See what we’re dealing with.” It didn’t look bad at all, but as far as Akashi was concerned their might as well have been a knife sticking out of it.

There certainly one sticking out of his heart.

Aomine

He couldn’t hear anything when he went in the Zone.

It was just him, the basketball, and the hoop.

No one else mattered, or seemed real, when he went into this state.

Aomine came out of it a few minutes after tapping in. This game wasn’t that serious, and honestly didn’t need the Zone at all. He’d just been pissed off that his teammates had been taunting him in front of [Y/N], and decided to teach them a lesson.

“Damnit Aomine! How could you do that?”

“What Bakamatsu?” He clapped back at his fledgling captain. “Remind you that you’ll never be as good as me?”

Wakamatsu growled through gritted teeth. “You idiot! Is that really all you can say after what you did to [Y/N]?!”

Aomine got a surprised look on his face and finally looked down, where Ryu was crouched next to an injured [Y/N] on the ground. “Shit!”

“You really don’t care about anything back basketball, do you?” The blonde teen scolded as he rushed to their side. “Not your teammates. Not your training. And apparently not even your s/o. You just blitz right past them and put your shoulder right into ‘em.”

“You shut up Wakamatsu!!”

He doesn’t remember any of that. He’d gotten pretty intense when he was in the Zone before, but he never fouled anyone. ‘Shit’ he thought. Why’d it have to be them if he ran into anyone? “You ok?”

“Yeah. I’m ok.” [Y/N] replied as they tried to sit up. Holding their head where it had clearly taken a smack against the hardwood after the push. “I don’t think I’m bleeding.”

“We should still get you to the nurse to check you out.” Ryu insisted.

“I’ll do it.”

Aomine as already on his feet and helping [Y/N] to theirs. Escorting them to the nurse and all but carrying them out of the gym.

“That idiot.” Wakamatsu growled again once he was gone. “All that talent and he’s still just a reckless moron.”

Kuroko

It was just a friendly practice game between teammates and friends. Or at least that’s how it started.

Inevitably, and when dealing with high level high school athletes like the Serin club, it got more & more competitive as the game went on.

Kuroko’s team was only down by a few points. Something they could easily make up if they just buckled down and kept up a good defense. That’s where he came in.

The ball was past to him and Kuroko was about to Ignite Pass it right back out to Kagami, when [Y/N] suddenly stepped in the way. It was too late to stop the play and the ball instantly went flying across the court. Right into [Y/N] and knocking them off their feet.

“[Y/N]-kun!” Kuroko shouted (or…as much as his quiet voice allowed him to shout) as he rushed to their side. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

They winced a little when they sat up and clutched their side. Clearly in pain where they ball struck them. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok Kuroko-kun.” [Y/N] said in response to his apology. “I should have been paying more attention and not gotten in the way. Sorry.”

“It’s no one’s fault. Accidents happen.” Riko said. Everyone having come over after the incident to check on [Y/N] and see what happened. “Let’s get you on the bench with an ice pack for now though. I think that’s enough basketball for today.”

“I’m sorry everyone.”

All the team members wave [Y/N] off. Some making a vague excuse that they were tired anyway. Kuroko still felt bad though and sat beside [Y/N] for the rest of practice while the other team members practice shots or hung out. Not wanting to leave their side, even if they didn’t notice.

Midorima

Midorima was usually a very calculating person. He had everything planned out, strategized, and prepared to move forward before he made his first step in the morning. How he played basketball was no different.

Aside from his impressive 3 point ability, he also had incredible foresight on how the other players were going to react & behave. Which made it very easy to counter in most cases.

This was of course impossible to do with his impulsive s/o, [Y/N].

He wouldn’t admit that he was hurt when Takao and [Y/N] teamed up against him in this little game. Nor that it made him play more aggressively. When the point guard stole the ball from one of his teammates, and was getting ready to pass it to [Y/N], Midorima saw it clear as day and leapt forward to block it.

However, he did not anticipate how far [Y/N] was willing to reach for the ball; a ridiculous amount in his opinion. They ran right into him and both landed on the hardwood with a hard smack. Midorima able to correct himself pretty quickly, but [Y/N] landing face down.

“Ouch! You ok [Y/N]-chan?” Takao asked as he jogged over towards them.

“I think so.” [Y/N]’s muffled voice called out before they sat up. Their nose bleeding.

“Aw man!” Takao bemoaned before he ran off to get some towels.

“Is it bad?”

“Not that bad.” Midorima replied. Pulling a handkerchief, todays lucky item, out of his pocket to hold against their nose. “That was a totally reckless thing you did.”

“You ran into me.” [Y/N] replied. Their voice comical with their nose held to stop the bleeding. “I would have had it if you didn’t try to wall me off the pass.”

“I was trying to intercept. You were the one that went completely off the line. Where you trying to rugby catch the ball or something?”

“So what if I was?”

Midorima scrunched his mouth, perhaps not to laugh, and removed the handkerchief. “There. It stopped.”

“Thank you Shintaro-kun.” They replied. Making him smile, even if their face was bloody.

“I got you some water.” Takao said. Literally re-entering the conversation. “That can’t taste good in your mouth.”

“Thanks Takao.” They rinsed out their mouth and stood up. “I’m gonna go wash up. Sorry for messing up today’s lucky item Shintaro-kun.”

“It’s not important.”

[Y/N] smiled and trotted off to the bathroom. Midorima stood there, holding the handkerchief for a moment, before he went to throw it away. It didn’t seem very lucky anymore, and he didn’t want to be reminded of it either.

Murasakibara

His size had always been an issue for him. Even as a child.

Consistently bigger than all his peers and classmates, Murasakibara had to be careful he wasn't too rough with anyone or else they would get hurt. Except when it came to basketball.

His size was for once a true advantage when he played the sport. It was one of the reasons he kept playing, so he could be seen as an asset instead of a giant inconvenience.

Today, however, he didn’t feel like playing. So he was using his size as a petty form of compliance.

Standing on the court, as instructed, he just stood there and used his size to take up space. Like a muttering stone wall Murasakibara just stood there while everyone played around him. Just waiting for the game to be over.

“I got it!” [Y/N] called out. Catching the ball and dribbling down the court. The opposing team tried to catch up to them to steal, and they looked back for just a moment before colliding into Murasakibara’s ‘wall defense’. Ending up on the ground while he barely registered the shove.

“Are you ok [Y/N]-chin?”

“I think so.” They replied as they sat up. Wincing a little as they had clearly tried to catch themselves with their hands, and tweaked their wrist a little.

“[Y/N]-chin is hurt.” Murasakibara said. Seeing an opportunity. “They need to go to the nurse.”

“I think they’re ok Atsushi.” Himuro told him. Having jogged over in the commotion.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” [Y/N] agreed.

“They need to go to the nurse.” Murasakibara repeated and immediately lifting them up with one hand.

He walked off. [Y/N] almost dangling behind him at his pace as he made haste to get them to the nurse. “You just wanted to leave the game, didn’t you Mura-kun?” [Y/N] asked, once they were out of ear shot.

“It can be two things.”

+ Kagami

It was no secret to anyone about Kagami’s enthusiasm for basketball. He lived, ate, drank, and breathed the sport.

Although he loved the organized nature of the sport with his Serin team, he also loved the free nature of street ball; and the happy memories it brought back to him from his childhood.

He was especially excited when he got to play with [Y/N].

They weren’t on a team like him, or perhaps as traditionally skilled as other players, but they did love the sport. That was all that mattered to Kagami. As long as you loved and appreciated the sport, you could always play in his opinion.

The other team they were playing on the street court was very good, but having a hard time keeping up with Kagami’s moves. He’d dribble the ball in circles around them. Make a fast break to blow through their defenses. He even dunked a few times.

His adrenaline was really up, so when he was passed the ball again he quickly spun around to try and drive it up court again, but saw [Y/N] trip over another play in motion and slide across the asphalt.

“[Y/N]!” He shouted. Immediately dropping the ball and running over to them.

“Oh man, I’m really sorry! It was an accident!”

He barely registered the other player’s apology as he looked over [Y/N]. Falling on asphalt sucked. He would know. Their legs and arm where they took the dive was all scratched up. Portions of it starting to bleed, but nothing too serious. “Come on. Let’s get you home and cleaned up.”

“But the game….”

“Who cares about the game?” Kagami growled at them. Helping them to their feet and moving their weight onto his side to take pressure off the one they fell on. “Your more important than some game.”

He took [Y/N] back to his apartment and cleaned them up with his first aid kit & bandages. They spent the rest of the afternoon there. Watching basketball instead of playing it. Which, in his book, was still a good afternoon.

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totowlff · 5 months

Text

chapter forty-two — sweet fortune

➝ fortune of the day: you are not elisabeth lauda

➝ word count: 2,6k

➝ warnings: none

➝ author’s note: i would have thousands of things to say here, but i'll limit myself to a wish that you like the chapter.

APRIL, 2018

A subtle heat rose to Elisabeth's face, brought on by a delicate, familiar touch. She stirred slightly, letting out a sleepy sigh. She didn’t want to wake up. She was comfortable on the couch she was sleeping on in Toto’s office, covered and warm under a throw blanket she’d found, her head comfortably resting on one of the decorative cushions. She couldn’t think of a single reason she should wake up right then, not when it felt so good to sleep.

— Liesl — she heard someone whisper, as the warmth of the touch slid toward her head. She didn’t move. After all, there was no reason to get up. She’d been so tired lately. “No, I need the sleep,” she told herself.

A new touch, this time on her forehead, made her move again. She reached up to swat the sensation away, this time making contact with something - someone’s hand. She opened her eyes to see that Toto was hovering just above her, staring at her intently.

— Good afternoon, sleepyhead — Toto said, sweetly — How are you?

— Good afternoon — she replied, bringing her fingers to his face and touching his jaw — I'm fine. Is it time for qualifying yet?

The team principal laughed.

— Qualifying is already over, my love — he said.

Elisabeth blinked. She couldn’t have possibly slept through the entire session. How had she not heard the engines or the cheering coming from the stands? “The jet lag must have been bad this time”, she thought, sitting up on the couch as she rubbed her eyes.

— How did it go?

— Valtteri was third and Lewis fourth — Toto said — We had problems with the tires heating up.

Raising a hand to his face, Elisabeth caressed Toto’s cheek again.

— Shit — she muttered, making him chuckle.

— It's okay — Toto replied — Tomorrow will be better, I'm sure.

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

— You’re being optimistic?

— Well, someone has to be.

— And that someone is never you, Toto — Elisabeth said, making Toto laugh again.

— The data is promising, Liesl, I'm sure we'll have a good race tomorrow — he said, kissing her forehead again — And it's not just me who thinks so, your father agrees with me.

— Of course he does— she murmured, getting up from the couch as she rubbed her eyes — Speaking of my father…

— Downstairs, having coffee with Mark and Mike — Toto replied, already on his feet in front of her— Actually, he was the one that told me not to wake you up for qualifying and to let you sleep.

— Good thing he still cares about me — Elisabeth said, as she ran a hand over the front of the blouse she was wearing, trying to smooth out the creases that had formed during her nap — Is it really bad?

Toto looked thoughtfully up and down, taking in the state of Elisabeth’s clothes.

— Yes, it looks awful. I think you're going to have to throw that blouse away — he said, before giving a mischievous smile. Elisabeth stepped forward into Toto’s embrace and playfully patted his chest, just over the embroidered Tommy Hilfiger logo.

— Idiot.

— Just stating a fact, my love.

Shaking her head, she went to Toto's desk, where she had abandoned her bag before collapsing on the couch, searching for her phone. She saw a few notifications on the screen, including a number of messages from the secretary of Michael O'Leary, CEO of Ryanair, about the next steps in the negotiation of 75% of Laudamotion's shares, they left the office and walked downstairs, into the hospitality’s common area.

Niki was holding court at one of the tables, his coffee cup almost empty as he chatted with Mike Elliott and Mark Ellis, both of whom seemed entertained by the story Niki was telling, something about a helicopter next to his hotel room in Zolder. Elisabeth had heard that story more times than she could count.

— Talking about Gilles, dad? — she asked, after placing her hands on his shoulders. Looking up at her, Niki smiled.

— Yes, Mauslein. Telling them what a complete nut he was. Imagine, landing a helicopter…

— In zero visibility — Elisabeth added — And then him telling you that he miscalculated the travel time between Nice and Zolder...

— Ah, you’ve heard this story before, I guess.

— You always tell it when you see a helicopter — she said, giving her father’s shoulders an affectionate squeeze as he laughed.

— Good stories always deserve to be told, you know that.

— Agreed, Dad — Elisabeth replied, before addressing the two men in front of Niki — Everything okay, boys?

— Everything’s alright, Elisabeth — Mike replied.

— Toto told me we had problems with the tires.

— Yes, we did — Mark said — They just weren't firing up.

— But they'll be fine tomorrow, dear, I'm sure — Niki said — We'll be able to recover at least six tenths with them at the right temperature.

— Are you sure? The weather doesn't look like it's going to change much, Dad.

The former driver raised an eyebrow.

— Are you being pessimistic?

— Considering that he — Elisabeth said, nodding toward where Toto was talking to Bradley — Stole my position as the optimist, I think that's all that's left for me.

— You should leave this post vacant, Mauslein.

— And where is the fun in not having anyone saying “I told you so”? — she said, flashing her father a mischievous smile. Niki shook his head. The moment was interrupted when Toto came back to the crowd, slipping a hand around Elisabeth’s waist.

— Everything’s good, Toto? — Mike asked.

— Yeah, I just came to invite Mr. Lauda for an interview.

— With whom?

— Sky Sports.

— Kravitz? — Niki asked, shoving his cell phone back into his pants pocket.

— Yes, sir. Are you going to talk to him?

The former driver gave a small smile.

— Do I have another option?

— Bradley didn’t say so, if there was.

Niki stood up, adjusting the Mercedes coat he was wearing. The less-than-excited expression on his face made Elisabeth drop her bag on the table and turn to her father.

— I'm going with you — she said, her voice full of determination.

— Are you sure? — Toto asked — Don't you want to rest a little longer? You still look like you got hit by a truck.

— I appreciate the compliment — Elisabeth murmured, running her hands through her hair. She straightened it every day, but her nap had brought out some of its natural waves.

— I'm just looking out for your well-being.

— And you do it by saying that I'm ugly?

Toto huffed, running his hand nervously through his hair as his two engineers stared at him, looking clearly uncomfortable.

— You're never ugly, my love, I always tell you that.

— And since when is saying that I look like a hit-and-run victim a way of saying that I look pretty? — she replied.

— I just want to say that you still look a little tired and you should take it easy if you’re still not feeling well.But, if you feel comfortable doing it, there's no problem.

— Great — Elisabeth said, putting her hand on Niki's shoulder — Let's go, Dad.

The former driver nodded, giving a quick wave goodbye to Mark and Mike before heading outside alongside his daughter, one hand casually placed in his pocket.

After opening the door leading to the paddock, the two of them walked down the small ramp together, finding Ted Kravitz holding his ever-present blue and red microphone, along with a clear bag with a red package inside. In front of the reporter, Ted’s usual cameraman, Pete, aimed the broadcast camera at them, the bright red light indicating that they were live.

— What you have there? — Niki asked, picking up one of the handles of the bag to look at what was printed on the plastic.

— Nothing much, I just have a bag of fortune cookies. We don't want to leave any Chinese clichés behind — Ted replied, his voice full of his usual good-natured cheer — Oh, by the way, congratulations to you on the deal with Laudamotion.

Elisabeth couldn't help but smile at the mention of the family business. “Another perfect deal”, she thought, as her father talked about the partnership with Ryanair and the number of Boeings in their fleet. Then, the reporter looked at her with a smile.

— But will the planes have the Laudamotion or Ryanair brand, Elisabeth?

— No, they will continue to carry the Laudamotion branding — she replied — We will continue operating with our Airbuses, while Ryanair only works with Boeings, completely separate. Michael only wants the Laudamotion product and we will continue like this.

— And you have routes leaving from Berlin to popular destinations…

— No, no — Elisabeth corrected — We will take routes within Europe leaving from Vienna. In fact, the plan is to increase the number of routes departing from Austria, just like Niki did. And we're looking forward to it, aren't we, Dad?

— Yes, the intention is to increase competition and bring more benefits to passengers. Prices will fall, people will travel more, they will be happy and we will be happy too.

Ted smiled.

— I understand, and this is the Lauda family’s third airline, right?

— Actually, it's the second one — Niki replied.

— But…

— First we had Lauda, which was sold to Austrian Airlines, then we had NIKI, which was sold to Air Berlin but which we bought back last year — Elisabeth explained — So, in theory, it's Lauda, NIKI and NIKI again, but with a new name.

— Oh yes, perfect. So, good luck to you with Laudamotion — Ted said, looking at the producer who was next to the cameraman, gesturing for them to go towards the subject that really mattered there — Well, I think I'd better ask some questions about motorsport since we're here. It was a problem with the tires heating up today, do you think you can be better in the race? You know, Mercedes needs a win...

— No need to worry — Niki said, with a small smile on his face — We did what was on our run program and the data is looking very favorable. What's more, the Ferrari is only six tenths faster, so it's a gap that Lewis can certainly close.

— Do you agree with your father, Elisabeth? — Ted asked — By the way, I didn't see you in the garage during classification...

She swallowed hard, forcing a smile.

— I ended up having a last minute meeting. But I caught up on everything and I agree with my father. If there is anyone who can reduce the gap to Ferrari, it’s Lewis.

— Perfect — Ted said, finding the producer pointing to her wrist, informing him that their time was running out — Oh, do you want a fortune cookie? They have been amazing so far.

— Well…

— You don't need to eat, you can just look at the fortune inside it.

Elisabeth and Niki didn't have time to refuse before the reporter reached into the bag and pulled out two little red packages, handing one to each of them. Then, the former driver smiled, showing the packaging to the camera.

— Ah, the fortune is inside the cookie, do you want to open it? — Ted asked, holding back a laugh.

— Is there a fortune here? — Niki returned, looking surprised.

— Of course, that's the point of fortune cookies!

The former driver then tried to open the package, but was having a bit of difficulty. Ted took over, handing Niki the microphone. While the journalist talked about what was inside the fortune cookies taken by George Russell and Sebastian Vettel, Elisabeth decided to open her cookie, trying to imagine what was inside it.

— Here you go, Mr. Lauda — the reporter said, while returning the cookie to Niki — What does it say?

He allowed himself a few seconds to understand the sentence on the paper.

— Your wish will… Be granted after… A short delay.

— Your wish will be granted after a short delay! — Ted repeated, smiling — It means you want to win the race tomorrow, there will be a little delay because you're not on pole, but tomorrow it will happen.

— Yes, maybe — Niki said, looking at the paper again, a little thoughtfully.

— And you, Elisabeth, which is your fortune?

She looked up at the journalist after reading what was written.

— It says here that the love of my life is closer than I imagine, so I don't know if we can really take that into account — Elisabeth replied, giggling.

— Well, from what I can see here, there's someone standing at the hospitality door looking very enchanted with you — the reporter said, pointing to the building's entrance. When she turned her face, she found Toto peering at them with an admiring expression on his face. Waving quickly, she got a blown kiss in response, which made her cheeks blush furiously.

— He's always enchanted by her — Niki murmured.

— Of course, he's my fiancé. It's the least I expect from him — she said, smiling.

Ted ended the interview by wishing them good luck, to which they both thanked him. After the journalist walked away, the two returned to the hospitality door, where Toto was waiting for the two with his hands in the pockets of his team coat.

— How was the interview? — he asked.

— It was good. We even got fortune cookies — Elisabeth replied, showing both parts of her cookie — Do you want one?

Toto nodded, and Elisabeth popped one of the pieces of cookie into Toto’s mouth. She thought it was adorable, and so was his satisfied smile.

— And what fortune did the cookie have for you? — he asked, still chewing.

— Ah, something like the love of my life being closer than I imagined. In the end it was right, after all, I hadn't seen you at the door.

— Indeed — Toto said, before looking at Niki — And yours?

— Something about my wish being fulfilled after some delay.

— Ted thinks it's about the race tomorrow — Elisabeth said, before putting the rest of her cookie in her mouth.

The former driver snorted.

— I think it's about something else.

— What would it be? — Toto asked, raising an eyebrow.

— A grandchild — he replied, putting his hands on his jeans — More specifically a granddaughter, from the two of you.

Elisabeth rolled her eyes.

— Dad, you already know that we’re only going to plan our children after the wedding…

— And, considering the pace that all of the planning nonsense is going, you are not getting pregnant any time soon, right?

— It's not nonsense, dad, it's our marriage...

— I don't know why you insist on planning a big wedding when you both can go to the registry office, sign the papers and start fucking like rabbits to expand this family...

— Niki, please — Toto interrupted him, running a hand through his hair — We don't need to discuss this kind of thing here, do we?

Her father huffed, frustrated.

— If we don’t, I'll probably be dead before I hold my granddaughter in my arms. Excuse me — he said, before heading towards the hospitality stairs.

Elisabeth pursed her lips as she watched her father walk up to the second floor.

— Something tells me he's looking forward to another baby in the family — Toto murmured, his thumb stroking her arm.

— You think? — she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

— Well, it's a guess, considering he wants us to postpone our wedding so we can start trying to have a baby — he said — And, if you wanna know, I don’t think it’s a bad idea…

Elisabeth snorted.

— You know this is not the right time. The season has just started, the car is terrible, we are ten points behind in the constructors' championship. We don't need another problem now.

— A child is not a problem, Liesl.

— Besides, I'm not going to cancel the buffet, the flowers, the venue, or my wedding dress...

— Have you had the dress made yet?

— Of course, in January.

— Well, I think there would still be time to adjust until the summer break…

She stared at him for a few seconds, not believing Toto's suggestion.

— You…

— Your belly wouldn't be so big, it would look good in the dress.

Elisabeth slapped his arm.

— If you think we’re getting married while I’m pregnant, you’re dreaming, Torger.

#toto wolff #wlffog #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula one fic #toto wolff x oc #formula 1 x oc #formula one x oc #f1 x oc #f1 #scwlff

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blainesebastian · 2 years

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it’s my party (and i’ll cry if i want to)

words: 1,829 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request): angst and drama but ends well notes: thanks for the request! hope you enjoy :) warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

You’ve called him three times and at this point, another time seems like overkill.

You’re usually not a person who overdoes it and granted, even this feels a little tame. You’ve called him over the span of a few hours, not all at once. It’s just, you had a bad feeling ever since you woke up this morning that things weren’t going to go your way. It’s your birthday, you were already a little apprehensive about celebrating it because nothing ever seems to go as you want it to, and when Austin promised he’d be home at a certain hour to celebrate, you took him at his word.

You know that dating an actor isn’t always smooth sailing, you know that he is sometimes, at the last minute, drawn into things he can’t get out of. Meetings, dinners, parties, events, mixers, whatever—you accept that, you understand, you’ve never put any pressure on Austin to somehow dip out of responsibilities just to spend time with you. You wouldn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend, anyways, that doesn’t support him? But at the same time, you just thought today would be a bit different.

A few days prior, you tried to tell Austin that you didn’t need anything special for your birthday—that you wouldn’t even be offended if they just moved through the week as if it was a normal day. But your boyfriend wouldn’t hear it, insisted that you deserved to be celebrated. And that sentiment is all well and good…as long as someone shows up to support those words and promises. You can’t believe you went from not wanting anything at all to somehow letting Austin talk you into deserving all the bells and whistles and now you’re pissed off that he’s late, MIA and that you can’t get ahold of him.

So ridiculous.

You are trying so hard, and failing, not to completely stew in your apartment because you understand that unexpected things can come up but that does not mean communication should just completely disappear? Then there’s the smallest part of you that’s worried because what if something awful happened and that’s why he’s not calling you back?

You wander over to your kitchen to get yourself a glass of water and look over at the door when you hear the familiar sound of keys turning in the lock. Setting the glass down, you watch as Austin comes in and toes off his shoes, the door closing behind him. Sticking his hands into the pockets of his black jean jacket, he turns to see you in the kitchen and offers you a small smile.

“Hey—you look nice.” He runs a hand through his jet-black strands, some refusing to move and reverting back to hovering over his forehead, “What’re you all dressed up for?”

You’re pretty sure your mouth falls open when he says that, “What do you mean what am I dressed up for?”

Austin sort of blinks at the tone of your voice before his eyes widen in realization, “Oh shit—no it’s,” He pats his pockets for his phone, slipping it out of his back pocket. “Fuck, I thought it was Tuesday.”

“It’s Wednesday.” You state with similar vinegar and just—you don’t want to be upset, you really don’t, you can see what’s happening right on Austin’s face. He’s lost track of the week, he thought your birthday was tomorrow, the man works long fucking hours and does exhausting things for his career that you can’t even dream of doing yourself.

And yet, you can’t find it within yourself to forgive him so easily either, something that you might otherwise brush off your shoulders—he forgot your fucking birthday. You cross your arms over your chest, trying not to boil but then Austin opens his mouth again and it’s like he’s trying to piss you off by saying all the wrong things,

“I’m so sorry—I got caught up runnin’ lines with Oliva and we just, ordered take-out—”

The thing is, you are not threatened by Austin’s beautiful co-worker, she’s nothing but sweet and completely supportive of Austin and your relationship. But it does rub salt in the wound, that he was eating dinner with another woman while you were waiting here feeling like a clown in your apartment for him to come home. And while you know that it’s not exactly fair? It still doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You put your hand up to try and just…stop this whole conversation because you feel like you’re going to lose your goddamn mind. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to do anything—my birthday is notorious for disappointing me one way or another. This is a new one though, so,” You toe off the booties you were wearing, starting to unzip your dress to get back into your comfortable clothes, “Thanks for that.”

Austin sighs softly, his one hand running over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose, “I said I was sorry.”

“Okay, and?” You throw over your shoulder, moving into your bedroom to take the dress off and put on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, “Saying you’re sorry doesn’t magically make everything better.”

Distantly, you have no idea why you’re trying to continue this argument with him. He’s apologized, it was a mistake, and you don’t even like your birthday that much anyways. And yet you know it has everything to do with that fluttering feeling inside your chest that this one might be different, that it might actually be enjoyable where you don’t feel like you might dread it next year, that Austin could make it…worth it. You hate feeling like you’re naïve, that the emotion was crushed inside of you when he didn’t show up and you waited and it felt like some sort of high school flashback where your date ditched you at prom.

You could just forget it, move on, maybe have a small celebration tomorrow.

But it’s your party and you’ll cry if you want to, right?

“Okay, well let me try and fix it?” He offers, leaning against the doorframe, “We could still make a night out of it—maybe sit on the roof? Order dinner?”

“You already had dinner.” You comment shortly, passing him. You need to get out of this damn apartment, get some fresh air before you really start saying things you might regret.

“Don’t follow me,” You warn, not even bothering at this point to put shoes on as you snatch at a jacket on the clothes tree near the front door and close it behind you as you leave.

Dramatic exit? One hundred percent, but it was feeling like the walls were closing in on you in that apartment. You just need to calm down, take some deep breaths, get the images out of your head of Austin running lines with Oliva, laughing with her, sharing take-out while you were calling his phone and waiting for him to come home. You know that Austin loves you, you trust him more than anyone, and despite tonight, your relationship is on very strong ground. You just…you’re jealous and annoyed that things played out as they did.

Shaking your head, you run a hand through your hair and make your way up to the roof of your apartment building. There’s a patio for tenants, lawn chairs, tables, even a couch and pool tables, beautiful view of the city. Just a great place to not feel so claustrophobic. If Austin wants to attempt to rebuild some bridges tonight, he can find you there—it’s one of your safe spaces.

Guilt pools in your stomach and you try to dismiss those emotions as much as you can because that’s the last thing you want to feel. Aren’t you justified in being pissed off? Ugh, maybe you shouldn’t have been so snappy. Or maybe it’s okay that you stood your ground for once.

While this inner battle ping-pongs back and forth in your mind, you push open the door to the roof after climbing the stairs—

And nearly have a heart attack when people suddenly yell surprise!

You stand there for a long few moments, almost like you might be having an out-of-body experience as you stare back at the crowd gathered on the roof and slowly recognize family members, friends, neighbors, co-workers.

This is a surprise party for you.

You take a step back out of instinct and bump into someone, turning to see Austin and your cheeks are suddenly so red, so hot that you’re pretty sure your shirt might catch on fire. “You didn’t…” You mumble, unable to find the rest of the words.

He smiles softly and sticks his hands into his jeans, “I would never forget your birthday.”

You shake your head, biting down on your lower lip so hard it could draw blood. How are you supposed to even look at him? So many dueling emotions are crashing over you like waves, your chest feels like it might cave in on itself. You don’t even know what to say.

“You were right, I was supposed to be here hours ago—I am sorry for that,” Austin sighs, “The cake I ordered got delivered to set in the wrong place and…it ended up in the food tent, so I was scramblin’ to get you another one. You’d think bein’ Austin Butler and everythin’ would make it easier ordering a cake.” He’s teasing with that last part, reaching to touch your shoulders with his hands, “I kinda had to improvise when I got home, get you to the roof.”

A choked laugh leaves your lips, rubbing at your own cheeks. Instead, you tore off the cute dress you were wearing, left the apartment in your around-the-house clothes and stormed on up here—

“Well, I’m here.” You sigh dramatically, head tipped back just a little.

Austin chuckles warmly, pulling you close to wrap you in a hug. Hopefully everyone behind you two on the roof can’t hear this scene unfold because you’re embarrassed enough. You already know your parents are somewhere recording and or taking pictures. You allow your eyes to close for a few moments, arms slipping around Austin’s back to hug him tightly, burying your face in his chest. He presses his lips to your hairline, squeezing you, his hands tracing circles into your spine.

“Happy birthday,” He says as you pull back. His hands move to cup your cheeks, stroking gently and smirking a little at the red splotches that must still be there.

There are so many things that you want to say or…to apologize for being snippy even if you didn’t know, for storming out, something anything. And yet, you lean up on your toes and press a soft kiss to his lips,

“No more surprise parties…ever again.”

Austin laughs, gently turning you around to push you out onto the roof and into the festivities, “No promises.”

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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ghostaholics · 1 year

Text

ᴇɴᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇs

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Warning(s): age-gap (reader probably in mid 20s or so); angst A/N: Because I'm too lazy to write a full fic so here's literally a short piece of what I'm sure would've been something if I had the motivation

JOEL ALWAYS SAID THIS ABOUT YOU – born young enough to grow up in a world that had nothing to offer; you didn’t watch it decay like he did where it used to be half-decent and you could find your place in life before everything went to shit – had grown into something inhospitable and terrible and bitter to the core. No, to you, it was just rotten from the very beginning: broken dreams and scattered ashes littering the filthy ground, a bunch of "what-ifs" and "maybes" and no room for shades of gray when it came to seeing things in black and white because the darkness won out and snuffed out the rest of all that was light and good as the sickness descended like the goddamn Rapture; it wasn’t just the infected that remained – the only people left navigating the wreckage were those with cruel hearts and nasty intentions.

"Well, it's not all that awful," you say, murmuring into the opening of your thermos as you stare fixedly at the last the last few remnants of stew at the bottom. "You're here. I guess that sorta makes up for it."

His figure is hunched over the fire he recently smothered. Even though his back is facing you, the tension in his body is apparent. Rigid – the same way he stiffens up when danger's nearby. "Don't say that kinda stuff." (And it sounds just as serious as “Stay behind me,” or “Run,” whenever hell’s at your both of your guys' heels.)

But you keep on rambling anyways – Pandora's box cracked wide open like a gaping maw that spills secrets, ones that should have never been let out – won’t fucking shut up about it even if you can help it now. And maybe it's not fair to put this kind of burden on him; maybe it's selfish of you to tell him, no matter how wrong it is, but each day could be your last and getting this off your chest might mean one less stupid problem to worry about. It's not like he doesn't know. Not after what happened back in Colorado, anyways. That had made it clear as day if it wasn't already obvious before. "After everything we've been through, I bet you still think of me as that same kid that got under your skin when we first met," you say absentmindedly. It doesn't come out in an accusatory tone, just an observation.

The stress leaches into his voice, washing over every word. Joel's on guard. Walls up. He shakes his head slowly, like a warning. "You've got no idea what you're talking about."

You lean back, transferring your weight into your wrists. "So I'm not right, then?" you ask it innocently enough.

He's moving around, double-checking that all the gear's in place. Of course, he's avoiding any eye contact. "We've got to head out in ten. Now's not the time for this kind of conversation."

"Almost a thousand miles left. All we really have is time. Look, Joel whatever you've got to say, I can handle it. You don't need to spare my feelings.”

He’s fidgeting with his watch as if the strap’s suddenly too tight – a habit he doesn't indulge in often, but one that you've noticed once in a blue moon. Maybe he developed it because of you. Always so sure of himself, but you're the one person who's managed to upend everything. "Get your —"

" —guns are in my pack," you finish for him. It's routine at this point. He's predictable. You know what to expect. "Is it because—"

He cuts you off too. "It's a bad idea." There's a finality to his voice.

So he's thought about this before.

"We've had worse ones."

“People like you don’t end up with people like me,” he says. "Shouldn't."

And you’re taken aback because out of everything that you expected it most certainly wasn’t that.

The ticking of a secondhand, booming – can’t be his watch because that’s been shattered for years – off-rhythm, way too fast; it’s your heart thrashing violently behind the cage of your chest. You reach for him, fingers curling around his wrist. Your thumb meets his pulse point and you feel the constellation of tiny scars across the expanse of his weathered skin. He’s warm. Alive. “That’s not — Joel, c’mon, you don’t seriously believe that—”

His eyes flickers down to where the two of you are joined before dragging back up to meet your gaze. "I’m not infected like the rest of ‘em, but this disease turns men into monsters, corrupts them until they're the most twisted versions of themselves. I've done things that I'll never be able to come back from, and when we’re done here, you’re better off finding something else.”

As if you could ever. That's next to impossible. "I've seen all of the ugliest and messiest parts of you and it doesn't change a single thing. I still want you just as bad."

#not happy with either of these characterizations but oh well #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou

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andithiel · 1 year

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I wrote a thing for the first prompt of @hdcandyheartsfest "Second Date"! This got away from me a little, it's 1,3k so I'm putting it under a cut. Rated T I guess for mentions of sexy stuff having happened and going to happen again. Thank you as always to the bestest of betas, my lovely @crazybutgood 💖💕

When Draco wakes up, he’s in an unfamiliar bed. Unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. The mattress is a little softer than he’d like, and the sheets are way too rumpled to be comfortable, but there’s also a pleasant ache in his muscles that’s probably the reason why he’s put up with—

He snaps his eyes open, wide awake now. Shit. Shit shit shit. It all comes back to him, how Harry kissed him when they were saying goodbye and how that kiss led Draco to forget all about grace and decorum, and how he foolishly went back to Harry’s.

This was a bad idea. He needs to find a way to get out of this.

He rolls out of bed and starts Summoning his clothes. His shirt comes flying from a chair by the door where Harry carelessly tossed it after he’d struggled with the buttons, and Draco hadn’t even objected. His trousers, pants and socks fly up in a bundled heap from closer to the bed, because Harry had stripped him off them in one motion before sitting him down on the bed and going down on him. Draco’s heart rate speeds up at the memory of Harry wrapping his lips around him while his green eyes looked up at Draco under heavy lids.

There are soft clinking noises coming from the kitchen, shaking Draco from his mental image, and he notices a delicious smell wafting through the half-ajar door. He quickly pulls his clothes on, trying his best to ignore how they’re all wrinkled beyond recognition and comfort (really, it’s not like him to get so carried away that he forgets about these things), and sneaks towards the kitchen.

Harry’s standing by the stove, scooping bacon on a platter. His hair is rumpled, his t-shirt ill-fitting after many washes, but looking so soft that Draco wants to feel it under his fingertips. The grey joggers are equally soft-looking, and the elastics have gone lax so that they’re sitting obscenely on his hips, making a gap between the shirt and the hem of the trousers where one could easily slide a hand in and—

“Aw, shit, you’re already up!” Draco snaps out of his ogling and fantasising and looks up at Harry, who’s smiling bashfully. “I was hoping to wake you up myself.”

“Oh. No worries. I, uh…” Draco starts, but doesn’t have time to say that he really must be going before Harry’s grabbed him by the hand and dragged him through the kitchen into the dining room, plate of bacon in his other hand.

“Sit down, I’ll just get the orange juice. Tea’s already here.”

Harry dashes off, and Draco blinks as he takes in the amount of food before him: the table is crammed with a lavish breakfast that looks like it could feed at least one of the house tables at Hogwarts. He doesn’t have time to digest it all before Harry has returned and plopped down beside him.

“Please, help yourself!” When Draco doesn’t move, he continues, “I didn’t know what you like so I made some of everything. I, er… I hope it’s not too much.”

He rubs at his neck, a shy smile on his face, and Draco shouldn’t find it as endearing as he does. He knew that agreeing to a date with Harry Potter would be dangerous territory, and now here he is, stupidly infatuated with the man.

Draco tentatively reaches for the kettle and pours himself a mug of steaming Darjeeling, first flush, if his nose isn’t deceiving him. But he doesn’t dare to eat anything, too afraid he won’t get anything down for fear of it rising back up.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, and it’s more than annoying how adorable he looks when he’s worried.

Draco clears his throat, deciding that he’ll need to just spit it out. “I’m sorry, I— I never sleep with anyone on the first date.”

Harry perks up, a pleased, almost boyish smile on his face. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Draco says, and before he has time to regret it he blurts, “because when I do, there have never been any more dates after that.” It’s a difficult thing to admit, and on top of that, he doesn’t want to examine how disappointed he is with himself that he couldn’t control himself enough to refrain from going home with Harry. He’d had big hopes for this date, and now, there’s not going to be any more of them.

“So, when do you usually sleep with someone?”

Draco’s not sure he heard right. He knows Harry lacks a few filters that Draco himself has had firmly installed by his parents, but even by those standards, that’s kind of an invasive question.

“Second date? Third?” Harry continues.

“I’m… Fourth, I guess,” Draco says, giving up on decorum. Merlin knows he lost it with Harry ages ago.

“Hmmm.” Harry scratches his head, messing his hair up even more (Draco does his best to ignore how it still looks like he’s newly fucked), then fishes out his wand from his pocket. He Summons a pair of candles from the other side of the room and lights them with his wand. Then, with another swish of his wand, he dims the lights. “Okay!” he says finally, looking at Draco with glittering eyes. “We’ve got candles, we’ve got flowers,” he indicates the bouquet haphazardly thrown into a vase standing in the middle on the table, “and I cooked you a meal. The most important meal of the day, might I add. By any standards, this definitely counts as a date.”

Draco swallows while he finally dares to see all the things that Harry has done for him this morning, but he doesn’t have the courage to believe that Harry is going where Draco hopes he’s going.

“And I was thinking of asking you to go with me to the cinema tonight, because I assume you’ve never been to a Muggle cinema before and I think you’d really like it,” Harry continues, and even leans forward, taking Draco’s hand and brushing it with his thumb.

For the first time in his life, Draco is speechless. Not out of fear or embarrassment, but because there’s a tiny bubble of hope rising in his chest, through his throat, threatening to burst out in hysterical laughter.

“I don’t sleep with anyone on the first date, either,” Harry says, and his expression is so open and earnest, more than usual. “Not unless I’m really into them.”

Draco inhales shakily; he’d no idea he’d been holding his breath. “So, you’re into me?”

Harry lets out a soft laugh, but Draco also notices his shoulders dropping. Was he also unsure about Draco’s intention?

“What do you think?” Harry murmurs and leans in for a kiss, lips gentle and exploring against Draco’s, even though they had plenty of practice yesterday.

Draco’s a little light-headed when they break apart, but he manages to find his words. “I think I could be persuaded to sleep with you on the second date.”

Harry laughs again, a little louder this time, relieved. “Then we’d better get this date started, because I have some things I’d like to do that we didn’t have time for last night.”

“Oh,” Draco says, fishing out a scone from the bread basket in front of him. “Would that involve the handcuffs I saw next to the bottle of lube in your bedside drawer?”

“Nah, that’s for the ninth date, at the earliest,” Harry says, almost causing Draco to choke on his scone.

But by now, Draco has found his footing, and he’s not willing to be outdone by Harry. “So, if we go at the same rate as planned, dating wise, I could have you tied up and have my way with you by…” he counts on his fingers, “Monday.”

He turns to Harry, whose eyes have become darker and breathing heavier.

“I can make an exception,” he says, grabbing Draco’s hand. “I think this date is nearing the end.”

#drarry #hd candy hearts fest #day 1 #second date #fluff #andithielwrites #pining (sort of?)#insecurities for sure #andi’s candy hearts

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thewaywardbirdsnest · 1 year

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Forgetting Something?

It was one of those mornings where Zoro’s brain felt like sludge, moving through his routine in a haze of mechanical movements because he was far too sleepy for anything more than bare minimum effort. The timing of his alarm could not have been worse - he had been dreaming deeply (of what? He had no clue) and the abrasive beeping had dragged him out of it. He was definitely going to need to stop for coffee on his way to class.

As he opened the front door to leave, a familiar voice caught his attention: “Hey, moss-for-brains, you forgetting something?”

Zoro turned around to find Sanji peeking out from the kitchen with a smug smirk on his face. Ah, right, how could he forget to kiss his boyfriend goodbye? With a soft, sleepy smile, he doubled back. He reached up to cup Sanji’s cheek and leaned in to peck him on the lips.

Sanji’s cheeks went pink, mouth agape and eyes wide.

“I… uhm… I m-meant these,” he stammered, holding up Zoro’s keys.

Why did he look so embarrassed?

The gears in Zoro’s head started to come unstuck and clicked once, twice, three times.

Oh, shit.

So, that’s what he had been dreaming about.

In the waking world, Sanji was not, in fact, his boyfriend. He was his pain-in-the-ass roommate who, yes, Zoro had a massive crush on but, no, did not reciprocate it (well, at least as far as Zoro could tell). Zoro felt heat creep up his face and his mouth go dry. When he replayed this scene later in his head, he imagined he must have looked like some sort of tropical fish, bright red and mouth opening and closing uselessly as he floundered for words.

“Uh… I… I’msorrythanksbye!”

He plucked the keys out of Sanji’s hand and hightailed it out the door.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything in class that day. All three lectures went in one ear and out the other. He didn’t know if he was upset or relieved that Sanji didn’t text or call. Was he going to have to move out? Christ, could he even afford that right now?

Unfortunately, the will of the universe seemed to be conspiring against him because he has a paper due tomorrow and his laptop was in his room. He’ll just have to cross his fingers and hope Sanji had gone out or is in his room. As he approaches the landing of their floor, Zoro smells baked goods. Oh, this is not good. Sanji was stress-baking.

When he enters their apartment, he spies a couple cooling racks set up on their coffee table. Sanji has already covered every surface in the kitchen - counters, the table, the collapsible baker’s rack he had bought for these occasions. This was bad.

He would have to pass the kitchen in order to get to his room. Maybe if he was quick enough, Sanji wouldn’t even notice him.

Okay, 3… 2…

And then Sanji steps out of the kitchen.

Well, so much for that plan.

“Oh, uh… hey,” Sanji says, not meeting Zoro’s eye.

“Hi,” Zoro replies. He’s suddenly not sure what to do with his hands, for some reason. He settles on shoving them in his pockets.

There’s an awkward silence before Sanji blurts out: “I made the matcha cookies you like!”

Zoro’s face flushes and he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Oh! Uhm… thanks!”

Silence again.

“I’m gonna…” Zoro awkwardly points over Sanji’s shoulder towards their rooms. “I have a paper to write.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry.”

Sanji shuffles out of his way, back into the kitchen.

This is awful.

Zoro stalks down the hall to his room. He tries to focus on his paper, but mostly he just stares blankly at his laptop screen, trying to think of what he should do about this mess. Luffy would probably let him sleep on his couch for as long as he wanted to, right?

He’s dragged out of his head when there’s a knock on his door. Well, there’s only one person that could be. He steels himself and gets up to answer it.

Sanji’s apron is covered in flour. He’s got a smudge of chocolate on his cheek (Zoro tries really hard not to think about how cute that is). By Sanji’s own standards he’s a bit of a mess right now.

“I want a do-over,” he demands.

What?

“A… do-over?” Zoro echoes.

“Yeah,” Sanji insists. “I want a better kiss than that pathetic little peck from this morning.”

Zoro’s head is swimming. He can’t mean that, can he?

“So?” Sanji goads him, leaning in to the idea so he doesn’t lose his nerve. “Earth to mosshead!”

Zoro shakes himself out of his stupor. As hard as this is to believe, he is not going to miss out on this. Nervously, he steps forward and lifts one hand to caress Sanji’s jaw while the other comes to rest on Sanji’s hip.

The kiss that Sanji will come to tell everyone was their “real first kiss ‘cause that first one was bullshit” is soft, a little tentative, warm, and tastes like sugar and spices from all the baked goods Sanji had been sampling that day. When they part, Zoro gives Sanji a lopsided grin and asks, “Better, curly?”

“Yeah,” Sanji replies, a little breathless.

“Sanji, I—“

“You’ve got a paper to write, yeah?” Sanji interrupts him. “You should finish it. I’ll clean up, get dinner started. And then we can, uh… we can talk. About this. Okay?”

“Okay,” Zoro agrees. Sanji leans in for one more kiss before turning to head back to the kitchen.

Zoro has never written a paper so fast in his entire academic career.

#zosan #sanzo #prompt fic #prompt generator #accidental first kiss #and they were roommates #college au #stress baking #fluff #bird's twitter threadfic archive

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princess-of-the-corner · 5 months

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The Redemption Arc Seating Chart

So, uh, my friend has started something she calls “The Redemption Arc Seating Chart”? Almost like a tier list (But not really)? Anyway, she says she needs more ideas for “tables”, so, I guess if anyone has any ideas, shoot them out?

“Tables” she already named:

Honoured Rival Table - you used to hate the main characters guts, and honestly, you still do. But respect has come to outweigh hatred or loathing, and if anyone else tried to hurt them, you’d most likely go a little feral. Like, you probably would still stab the main character in the gut if given half the chance, but only in an already established fight. Sometimes people “mistake” you for a friend of the MC, which you deny vehemently. You aren’t friends. Your bond goes far beyond the trappings of mere friendship. Only you can beat the MC.

True Companions Table - you have turned your life around so much, the main characters consider you a friend now. No matter where you started, you have realized the error of your ways and come around to the side of the protagonists. You’d easily take a bullet for each other, and probably have. You probably feel awful about your past deeds, and have some self-sacrificial tendencies because you feel it might be the only way to make up for what you did. Overcoming your guilt is most likely a big part of your character arc. Adjacent is the “Enemies to Lovers” Table.

Study Group Table - so, turns out you were seriously misinformed about something when you went up against the protagonist. Maybe a bad guy promised you something, or maybe you didn’t have all the facts, maybe you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but you have done some pretty awful things for reasons you have since learned were motivated by false information. Upon learning this, you’ve struggled to learn the truth of things, and now you work hard to make sure you aren’t tricked again.

Former Bully Table - You … weren’t ever really a “villain” in the strictest sense of the word. You were just kind of a dick, going through some shit, and coping by trying to make someone else’s life hell. Then the plot kicked off, and you got a massive dose of reality. These days, you and the protagonist aren’t really “friends”, but you’ve both moved on from squabbling with each other. They have bigger fish to fry than you, and you’ve found other things to do with your time.

Project Partners/Coworkers Table - You were very much a villain, but teamed up with the protagonist because you had a mutual enemy. This team up lasted long enough that you realized working for the other side sucked, and working for the protagonist actually isn’t bad. You have benefits now and shit. Like, you and the protag might not be buddy-buddy anytime soon, but you’ll shoot the shit at the water cooler, and help each other out to get work done on time.

Expelled Table - so, you tried real hard to turn your life around - really, you did! You even made some pretty serious progress! People were starting to think you could change. So were you, to be honest. But … well, maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe you backslid too far. Heck, maybe someone tricked you. But the fact remains, you ended up back on the path you started on, and nothing anyone says right now will convince you to try again.

And, of course, my friend’s personal favourite:

Why Are You Sitting Here? - no, seriously, why are you sitting over here? You did a bunch of awful things, then did a complete 180 … why, exactly? Did you ever tell us your reason for suddenly deciding you weren’t going to murder people? Was that ever communicated? Wait, why are you trusting them!? Yeah, they saved our lives here, but they previously tried to kill us multiple times, are we just forgetting that because they decided not to shoot us? Hey, why are you moving to the Friends Table!? And as for you … you were a villain? When? What exactly did you do? Why do you need a redemption arc?

If anyone has any other ideas for “Tables”, feel free to share them!

Fucking beautiful.

#submission

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lxvejohnny · 1 year

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The endless beginning

part three

scream VI fanfiction with implied ethan x oc!

find part one here and part two here. enjoy!

By the time Amelie and Ethan made it to her apartment, Tara, Mindy, Chad, and Anika were already inside. After hearing the door open again, Tara figured it would be Amelie and decided she should probably go talk to her about the conversation they had outside the party. She enters the living room and calls out Amelie’s name when she sees her take her shoes off at the front door. Amelie’s head perks up when she hears Tara call her name and understands it’s more than likely to talk about earlier.

The two girls make their way to the kitchen and Ethan decides to sit on the chair in front of the front door, joining Mindy and Anika.

“I am so sorry-”

“Look, I’m sorry for-“

The two girls started at the same time and begin letting out small laughs. Tara nods at Amelie to go first.

“I’m sorry for whatever I said back there, I get where you are coming from, just trying to move on and all and I’m here just teaming up with Sam which I am sure did not help whatsoever,” Amelie shakes her head and speaks to Tara sincerely. She was angry, yes, but she also shouldn’t have jumped the boat and get mad at Tara like she did.

“No, no, no, don’t apologize, Amie, I should not have said what I did back there,” Tara says and puts her hands on either side of Amelie’s arms. “We all went through tough shit, but I cannot say anything about how you are feeling because what you went through was worse than what anyone of us did.”

Amelie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, yeah what she experienced was bad, but Tara can’t just say she had it less than what Amelie did. “No, Tara, look. We both went through awful stuff, and we shouldn’t compare, really.”

“You guys are my family, really. Since my, uh, my dad-“ She pauses and swallows the lump in her throat before continuing. “Died. My mom just kind of wants nothing to do with me as much as she used to. Well, she didn’t much anyway which is why I was living with my dad but, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tara replies nodding her head. “I’m just sorry- still. You are my family, too and I love you and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Amelie chuckles. “I love you, too.”

The two girls hug for a minute before releasing. Tara’s hands remain on Amelie’s arms as she lowers her voice. “Chad and I had a moment before you came here.”

“I knew it!” Amelie’s eyes widen as a smile creep up onto her face. “I figured there was something going on between you two.”

Tara shushes her but can’t contain the grin on her face as she smiles back at the brunette in front of her. Tara’s eyes look out the kitchen to peer into the living room where Ethan is sitting and looks back at Amelie with her eyebrows raised. Amelie can tell what Tara was wanting to say, but instead brought up Dean. "So, that guy you had a steamy makeout with?"

Amelie blushed at the mention of being caught making out with the guy, about to fill her in about Dean before they got interrupted by Chad who told them to come into the living room. Tara looks at Amelie again, “we will continue this later.”

Amelie nods and smiles before heading to the chair Ethan was sitting on and places herself on the arm of the single chair. The left side of her body touching Ethan at every move she makes.

Sam walks in shortly after with their neighbour from across the hall, recognizing him from whenever she would catch Sam looking at him shirtless through the window.

“Cute boy, nice,” Quinn comments with a smile when she sees the boy behind Sam.

Suddenly everyone in the room quiets down as they invest to the news that is on the TV. A reporter looks to be at a crime scene where he talks about two bodies, by the names of Jason and Greg, that were found dead in their apartment. Amelie stiffens as the reporter continues. This felt familiar, all too familiar for her and she hated it.

“Holy shit, that’s that chode from our film studies class. The one obsessed with Argento,” Mindy gasps when the reporter said the names of the bodies. Amelie remembers him now; Jason was the guy who stopped Tara and her when they were on the way to the party to ask if Sam was going.

She zoned back into the reporter to hear him start talking about how Jason and Greg collected various Ghostface costumes in their apartment. She felt her throat seize and her hands start to tremble. No, God please no, not again.

“Oh, my god,” Amelie says out of breath, though she hasn’t moved she feels as though the wind has been completely knocked out of her. She turns to look at the sisters beside her and they share a look, they all had the same feeling that it is starting again.

“Pack a bag, we leave in ten,” Sam says as she rushes to the kitchen. “You too, Amelie.”

“Sam! Wait, Sam!” Tara calls out to her as she rises from her seat. Amelie gets up but doesn’t make any moves to advance. Ethan sits up straighter in his chair and watches as Amelie’s mood plumets again for the fourth time this evening. He quickly glances to the couch where Quinn sits, and she gives him a pointed look ever so subtly. And so it begins, he thinks. But God, did he ever hate how scared it was making Amelie.

“We are getting out of the city,” Sam says from the kitchen. Amelie can hear shuffling from the living room and sighs heavily before running her hand through her hair.

“What?” Danny calls quizzically as he also hears Sam’s plan on leaving. He was beyond lost and Amelie could tell he had no clue what was happening or why the tension in the air became so thick.

“Thank you very much suspicious new guy, but I think we got it from here. Goodnight, get home safe, go, go, go, go,” Chad took his que and began shooing Danny out of the apartment. He closes the door and makes sure to lock it.

“Sam! Sam!” Tara calls out to Sam. It seems as if Sam as also gone tunnel vision, focusing on browsing a weapon and getting the hell out of their apartment as fast as she could go.

“Hold on,” Sam says as she picks a knife and walks back to the living room.

“Woah, woah, Sam” Amelie finally sees the knife in Sam’s hand and advances towards her to put the sharp object down.

“Wait, let’s talk about this for a second because this-this might not have anything to do with us,” Tara tries again to try and reason with Sam before she continues to panic.

“Are you serious?” Sam replies incredulously.

“It’s a big city! It’s Halloween, everybody is wearing masks!” Tara tries to rationalize with Sam. She made a big deal earlier that night about not wanting to dwell on that past, on Ghostface, and then suddenly a murder is committed on students who had a ghost face shrine. Is it suspicious that the mask has had relevancy in the crime? Yes. But could it just be a massive coincidence? Absolutely.

“Tara, Tara, this isn’t a coincidence. You knew him,” Almost as if she read Tara’s mind.

“Barely,” Tara replies weakly.

“Chad, Mindy, Amie, back me up,” Sam needs reassurance. She is so certain that this is happening again and she doesn’t want to feel crazy for being the only one to think so.

“I mean it is a little bit-“ Chad begins with a pained look on his face.

“Close to home,” Mindy finishes for Chad and puts another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

Sam nods in relief and looks towards the short girl who hasn’t said anything yet. “Amelie?”

She looks at Sam and then Tara and then the Twins. Tara is not going to like this, but she can’t help the sinking feeling in her gut at this whole situation. So, with a grimace she agrees. “It does feel all too familiar, Tara.”

“See?”

“Well, Quinn! Your dad’s a cop, right? Can you call him and find out what’s going on?” She says looking at their red-headed roommate before turning back to Sam “Before you make the Unilateral decision to abandon our college education-“ Tara gestures with her hand between herself and Amelie ”-and flee the fucking state.”

“I’m calling him now,” Quinn pipes up with her phone already to her ear.

“Thank you,“ Tara sighs.

Suddenly Sam’s phone starts ringing and the group of friends all jump, looking towards the noise. Sam slowly advances to it with Tara and Amelie hot on her tail.

“Who is it?” Tara asks when she sees Sam peer down at her phone on the table. Amelie glances and sees Gale’s name on the screen before rushing to try and pick it up herself “Hey! You should answer-“

Before she gets the chance to swipe the phone Sam declines the call. She looks at Sam incredulously, “What the hell? You should have answered it.”

“No, Amie, we cannot talk to her. Especially right now, actually,” Sam shakes her head. It felt like Sam was Amelie’s older sister, being scolded and told not to do stuff. She understands why she doesn’t want any of them talking to Gale since she did write about them in her new book, as usual, but it was Gale. Her dad’s Gale. As Amelie was about to fight back, her phone began ringing in her back pocket. The group of friends jumped again at the second ringing phone.

“Why did everyone just freak out when her phone rang?” Ethan asks and then adds, “Again?”

He knew why, of course he knew why, but he couldn’t have them thinking that he did. So, he plays confused and innocent just like he was meant to do.

“You got to keep up my dude,” Anika replies, almost tiredly.

Amelie pulls her phone out and sees Gale’s name pop up again. Sam looks at her and shakes her head. “No, no, do not answer it.”

“But Sam, it’s Gale, okay? I know Gale-“ Amelie starts before Sam reaches over and presses decline on her phone again. “Sam, what the hell?”

“Yeah, and I know her too, Amie,” Sam says. Sure, Gale helped them a lot back at the attacks that happened last year but since then, she has done nothing good for Sam and she will hold to that. Amelie gets where she is coming from, really. Gale had promised to not write another book about the trauma's of the new Ghostface murders, and then she did just that. Amelie looks back down at her phone when she feels it vibrate.

Gale: Did you see the news?

Gale: Mel, please call me.

Gale: I think it is happening again.

Gale: I love you, stay safe. Please let me know if you need anything.

Amelie was angry at Gale at the beginning, after what felt like forever she finally brought herself to read the new book and was just so mad when it came to parts that alluded to her and her dad. Luckily for her though, Gale couldn't find it in her to write such crude things about her like she did to Amelie's friends. But, Amelie managed to get over any negative feelings towards Gale after they got into an argument about the whole situation. Gale was also the last adult figure she had in her life who genuinely cared for her, and after losing Dewey, she couldn't afford losing Gale, too.

“Sam, my dad wants to talk to you,” Quinn perks up again and begins handing the phone to Sam.

“Mr. Bailey, hi.”

Soon enough they heard that Sam needed to head to the police station because Quinn’s dad needs to talk to her. After finding out that her license was at the crime scene, Sam’s nerves seemed to rise even higher than they were before. After all the public humiliation she has already faced from the accusations that she was the last Woodsboro killer and that her ex was innocent, she felt like this was another ploy in someone’s plan. How the hell did her ID end up at the crime scene?

As Sam rushes out the door with her coat in hand, Tara and Amelie look at each other already with the same idea in mind. The two girls go to grab their coats in their respected rooms before coming back out and head to the door. There was no way they would let Sam go off by herself, if Sam wants to be protective over them then they are also going to be of her. As Amelie walks closer to the door and slips her shoes on, Ethan comes up to her and grabs her arm to stop moving. She looks up at him curiously.

“Maybe you should just stay here, with us,” Ethan gestures his head back to the rest of the group that is sitting in the living room still. Chad who stands the closest to the two nods at Ethan’s words. “You don’t know what could happen out there with just the three of you, especially if there is a killer out there.”

“I will be fine, Ethan, trust me,” Amelie pulls her arm out of his hold to slip her hand down to grab his. “I just can’t let Sam go by herself.”

Ethan looks at her, pleading her with his eyes to just stay here with them. He isn’t sure where this confidence has come from. Sure, he sees her often and they hang out quite a bit from being in the same friend group and all, but he is always so nervous to make a move to even talk to her. Maybe her forwardness this whole night with him has given him some courage or the need to prove he is better than Dean, he isn’t sure, but he just knows that he wants to try his best to keep her from leaving the apartment. He wants her safe, that isn’t a lie, but he also needs her to stay away from Sam so she doesn’t get hurt. His dad won’t stop his conquest and won’t hesitate to hurt anyone in his way, no matter their importance to his son.

Amelie sees that he is worried and sees that her friends also want her and Tara to stay there but they can’t and will not let Sam go all alone. So, as much as she would like to stay home, she lets go of Ethan’s hand and pulls her coat onto her body before heading to the open the door.

“I will call you if we need help, I promise,” She looks at him in his eyes with the upmost sincerity she can. “We will be back as soon as we can.”

Ethan sighs and closes his eyes as the two girls walk out the door and rush to the stairs. Dammit.

“Sam!” Amelie shouts running down the stairs with Tara.

“Sam, slow down,” Tara calls out.

“Guys, no. Get back inside, lock the door,” Sam turns around in shock and pushes the two back.

“Are you serious? Now you don’t want to stick together?” Tara says in disbelief. Amelie follows directly after with, “There is no way we aren’t going with you, Sam.”

“Fine,” Sam says defeated. She knows that she could push and push and push the girls as much as she can, but she also knows that they are just as stubborn as her. They are a team, after all. So, that’s what the girls do. They stick beside each other and start to walk down the street to the police station. Occasionally Tara and Amelie will go back and forth to look behind them, just making sure there is no one following them or is running up with a knife in hand. However, their moment of peace didn’t last too long before Sam’s phone started ringing again. Amelie felt her heart leap for the fiftieth time that night when she sees Richie’s contact come up.

“What the fuck?” and “He’s fucking dead” comes out of Tara and Amelie’s mouth at the same time.

“I never deleted his contact. This is coming from his number,” Sam says in realization. She looks at it determined; she was going to answer it. Amelie’s eyes widen.

“Don’t pick that up. Just let it ring,” Sam picks it up.

“Sam-“ Tara tries before Sam starts talking to the phone.

“Who is this?”

“Hello, Samantha. Did you miss me?” Ghostface.

“I want you to think long and hard about whether you want to do this because the last two people that fucked with us, ended up dead,” If there was anything Sam was going to do this time around, was not let Ghostface get to her. She was going to become worse, so much worse.

“You should be thanking me, Sam. Jason and Greg were gonna kill you and your two girls there. I gutted them before they had the chance,” Ghostface replies menacingly. The girls look around them to see if they can spot the person on the phone with them. They all stop as they look ahead and see a man in all black, coincidently on the phone, walk towards them.

“So what? You’re protecting us now?” Sam replies curiously. What the hell was the killer playing at this time around?

“Not quite. I’m going to show the world who you really are, a liar and a killer. I am going to punish you, Sam.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet, asshole.”

“Don’t be cute, you’re going to pay for what you did and I’m not gonna stop until I butcher you- you and anyone who gets between us! You three better watch your backs.”

“You better watch yours.”

Ghostface comes up behind Tara and grabs her, raising his knife to stab before Tara elbows him in the face and Amelie rushes to push him back into a bush behind him.

“Come on, go!” The three girls run as the masked guy starts to get up to chase after them. The three turn the corner where they see a small bodega to their right and barge through the door. Amelie already feels like crying and they were only being chased. But she knew that being chased wasn’t all that was going to happen today, it never is.

“Help, please!”

“Please! Please help us! We were attacked!”

“Please call 911!”

“There’s a man out there!”

The three girls start shouting to the guy behind the counter, nothing but pure adrenaline and fear laced through their body. They needed help and they were going to let anyone know.

“There’s a fucking line here girls,” Some guy says behind them. Amelie turns to him with a crazed look on her face. They are yelling for help and some guy is worried about a line. Soon enough Ghostface comes in and the man worried about the line faces up to him. “You got a problem here, guy?”

Ghostface tilts their head before he starts stabbing him repeatedly. The girls gasp and the other people in the bodega start to run out. Another man tries to come behind the masked person, but his efforts don’t work well as he is turned around and stabbed in the throat. As if the two guys were nothing, Ghostface straightens up menacingly and looks at the three girls. Amelie has dealt with Ghostface before but this time it feels so different. This time it feels too powerful, and she is scared.

Right as Ghostface is about to start stomping his way towards the three, the sound of a shotgun clicks before cashier yells out “Hey!” and takes a shot at the masked figure. Unfortunately, he misses but it gave the girls enough time to duck away.

“Go out the back!” The cashier nudges his head towards the door and Tara yells out a “Thank you!”

“Fuck it's locked,” Tara tries to open the door and it doesn’t budge. It’s fucking locked, of course it’s fucking locked, Amelie thinks. Her clammy hands are getting shakier by the second and she wishes more than anything now that she just stayed at the apartment with her friends, with Ethan, like he had pleaded her to. She thinks about them now and wonders if there’s any way she can warn them.

She turns back to the cashier and yells, “Keys! We need your keys!”

As the poor man fumbles to unhook his keys from his belt, Ghostface comes up behind him.

“Watch out, watch out, watch out!” The girls all call out, Amelie pointing behind him as they see Ghostface grab the guy and stab him in the shoulder. Ghostface goes to grab the gun and hits him across the face then as the guy pleads to not get shot. To no avail, Ghostface cocks the gun and pulls the trigger, aiming right for the man’s head. Amelie gasps and closes her eyes too late, seeing the man’s head blown to pieces and all over the fridge he was leaning against. Her stomach churns as they all duck behind an aisle. On their hands and knees, the girls try their best to not make a sound. They hear the sound of the gun being pumped again and Amelie swallows, she feels sick and can’t stop her body from trembling.

Sam shushes them, trying her best to tell the girls to stay as quiet as they can. They stop their movements as they hear the crunch of the glass and food under Ghostface’s shoes and slowly look around. He takes a shot, and they flinch from the sudden sound. Ghostface has always been dangerous and while Amelie dreaded that stupid slasher knife, there is nothing she would rather more than to see that knife in his hand instead of a fucking shotgun.

Right before the killer jumps around the corner they once were hiding, they quietly make their way around the end of the aisle to hide from his field of vision. Tara and Amelie hold each other’s hand as tears run down their face and they shake. Amelie uses her free hand to cover her mouth to try and silence the sound of her heavy breathing. She looks to her other side where Sam squishes up against her. She sees her reach to grab an empty can and throws it away from them to distract Ghostface.

Luckily, it seems to work, and he moves away from the aisle they were in, and the three girls crawl back around to it. Their hands crunch under the glass and shards get stuck and cut Amelie’s hand as they crawl. She winces and tries her best to not cry out at the sharp pain. It seems as if the masked figure can hear the crunching sounds coming from the girls and stops moving. Sam peeks between the aisle and sees as he turns their way. The three girls push the shelf onto him as he takes another shot, the aisle causing him to fall back, and his shot aims for the ceiling.

“Run!” Sam yells out and they take it as their chance to escape. Amelie looks at the ground as she passes by to the doorway where the bodies lay and sees the pools of blood. She slips as her shoes step in the red substance while running out before Tara, still gripping onto her hand, pulls her back up and they make it outside. Police cars starting pilling in and the three turn back around to look in the bodega. What they see is exactly what they expected, bloody bodies on the ground and the back door of the bodega open. On the ground a clean Ghostface mask lays menacingly. Amelie looks at the two sisters and their chests rise and fall rapidly from their heavy breathing. It’s fucking happening again, and Amelie feels her heart stop. She wants to tear her eyes away so bad from the scene in the small shop in front of her, but she can’t seem to be able to. Because as she looks inside and stares at the mask, at the bodies, at the blood and then back to herself where blood got onto her clothes and hands, she sees it. This was her life, and she doesn’t know if this time around she will get so lucky. However this saga may continue, it will either be her friends laying in a pool of blood like those in the bodega and she stares from the outside. Or it will be her bloody body, drained from this curse she has been stuck to live with.

#ethan landry #ethan kirsch #scream fanfic #scream imagine #scream vi #scream six #dewey riley #gale weathers #scream #jack champion #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #scream vi spoilers #scream vi x reader #scream ethan #ethan landry scream #scream 6 #scream x reader

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monstersinthecosmos · 1 year

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I think what makes this whole situation even worse for Armand is that he only has one (1) fledging. There is literally no point of reference about anything when it comes to him and Daniel except for Armand’s past experiences with Marius which in SOME ways are similar to what Armand and Daniel went through but in other ways they’re completely different experiences. Lestat, Marius and pretty much all of the other main vampires in the series (even Louis even though RIP to both those cuties) have a whole roaster of fledglings to develop different types of relationships with and over the series, they allow them to grow and change and feed off each other, but Armand *only* has Daniel, so it must be legitimately maddening because all the good and the bad and the crazy is just… one relationship for Armand. And it’s obviously a position he put himself in by obsessing over and falling in love with Daniel so hopelessly to the point where he couldn’t even consider continuing existing without him. And then he cursed them both. But I think that in finding himself and regaining his will to live and to have meaningful connections in late canon, he was also able to accept Daniel’s love again, and maybe to start having important conversations about the trauma they both went through when Daniel was turned and after they separated. I’d like to think they didn’t just reunite in PL and immediately jumped right back into a relationship like two stupid teenagers but actually had Important Conversations about what they’d gone through before Daniel moved into Trinity Gate and they decided to give it another go. NYC has great therapists and they’re rich so, please? 🙏

[ dgajksdg I waited too long to answer this bc I was too sad but just for reference icymi I got this ask after posting this devastating shit ]

fuck man!!!!!!

yes! YES.

(I feel like I don’t have a lot to add except that I’m bawling my fuckin eyes out so hear me out for a sec)

It’s just like, man Armand is so fuckin tragic you know? There’s so much nature/nurture to think about when you look at the others but it’s like, he was SO deeply traumatized for his early years I’m not surprised he couldn’t even try. I bring this up from time to time but it’s like, his time with Marius was so brief in the scheme of things, and even if his turning itself or the small amount of time he had with Marius wasn’t traumatic, the fallout was ENOUGH. And like, to relapse back into a cult after being with Marius makes me wonder if he convinced himself that those years were like, an abomination or a mistake, even if his actual turning itself wasn’t awful.

Then you look at someone like Lestat, who was also super traumatized by the way he was turned, and simply will not fucking stop making fledglings because he’s so lonely and has no impulse control and can’t cope with the concept of losing people. I think the two of them are both so desperate for companionship and still approach it so differently because of their personalities. And even without turning people I just think like, Armand has dealt with so much rejection? It's hard enough to get people to stick around when they're already vampires, like, why would he invest in a human at this point.

So yeah it’s just, it fucks me up every day of my life that Daniel is the only one for him.

I think a lot about the “Remember then that it was love” convo with Marius and how like, Armand seems to have made steady progress in his relationships over the years. Like, acting like less of an animal, being more present with people, etc. And it finally settles on Daniel and repeats some of the Venice stuff.

The irony too of how he GOT Daniel there by being a fucking predator at first; same with how Marius chose Armand because he had no innate value anymore as a person, no one would miss him, every day Marius gave him was a bonus and he was living on borrowed time. Daniel’s life sort of ends the night he meets Louis and Armand harasses him to the point of completely isolating him and fucking up his whole life. In that way he’s at rock bottom with nothing else to lose, also on borrowed time, nowhere to go but up.

Anyway sdhgkjlasg boy yeah they have so much to talk about and like. I think there’s enough anecdotes about vampires who go mad and don’t recover, and it’s promising to me that Daniel DOES recover. And I want them to speak and heal and I hope they both respect how fucking special it is that Daniel is The One.

#i'm sad about armand again good morning!#armand pain #vampire chronicles #devil's minion #armand #daniel molloy #armand/daniel #deep ass thoughts about vampires #trauma hole theory #anne rice

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moved-to-satoruswaifu · 5 months

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𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

it's my hubby's birthday and THANKFULLY i managed to write a what was initially supposed to be little something just in time!! as always, this is all fluff, no angst in this town, folks. cws: one tiny curse, an even tinier suggestive thing (satoru jokingly asking if he gets nudes and that’s about it lmao), and a brief mention of pregnancy + talks of children at the end! word count: 1016

"I’ve got everything I want in one little package."

Sera blinked up at him — confused for a moment. She had taken that moment of tranquility, embraced in his arms as they watched the snow tumble to the ground just outside their office, as the perfect opportunity to ask about Satoru’s birthday wish.

"I’m talking about you, dummy," he explained, leaning in to place a tender kiss on her forehead.

"As sweet as you are, that doesn’t help me at all." She pouted.

It's like this every year, really. At this point, Sera shouldn’t expect anything anymore. There’s nothing Satoru ever asks for, except her love and attention. All of which he already has.

"Well~ Sorry, wife. It is what it is."

She thinks back on that particular conversation whilst aimlessly wandering the streets of Tokyo, heart thumping wildly in her chest. Mochi is undoubtedly her husband’s favourite desert, so that will be a part of his present — as always.

But what else could she get him? Sera wants to do something special this year. Something new.

Her eyes observe each and every shop she comes across, carefully scanning for that something…

…until she finally finds it.

"Happy Birthday, ‘toru."

Sera probably tried wrapping up her present at least three times until it appeared neat enough to give her husband. One half of the tape is already peeling off — washi tape never really sticks and she always forgets to buy proper one — but the white bow distracts from her awful wrapping-skills, at least. Satoru leans back against his pillow and grins lazily, He opens the present as carefully as possible, all whilst pressing kisses to his wife’s temple.

"Didn’t have to get me anything, sweet thing."

She remains cuddled into his chest, wrapped up in his arms. Sera observes the way Satoru tries not to tear any of the wrapping paper, despite it being destined for the trash can. She’s learnt a few years ago that he doesn’t want to ruin her "marvelous" work and effort.

What he ultimately holds in his hands is a book - but not just any book, as he soon discovers. Inside is a vast collection of photos taken over the years they’ve spent together, with dates and little notes attached. There’s the first selfie they took together at the amusement park. A picture Haibara had to force Nanami to take at the fast food restaurant they went to (they were fighting with french fries, don’t ask). A photo they took on the day they moved in together. One when Satoru got his license to teach, and another one from the day Sera got hers. Even photos of their students are there, both the first and second years, and everyone had written something. Even Nanami.

It's a little collection of everything.

Whilst flipping through the book, Satoru has become awfully quiet. Sera grows the tiniest bit worried when he is half-way through the journey of what is their relationship reflected in pictures. She looks up at him to gauge his reaction, only to notice his jaw clenched and his pale blue eyes brimming with tears.

"Satoru?" Sera finally murmurs, adjusting her position to get a better look at him. She places a hand on his cheek, eliciting a chuckle.

"Shit, Sera. You’ve really done it now."

Satoru hides his face in the juncture between her neck and shoulder, visibly trying to keep the emotions that wash over him at bay.

"Is the present that bad?" Sera jokingly asks, running her hands through his white locks and kissing the crown of his head. Her love wraps around him like the warmest, fluffiest blanket.

"Yeah. Awful," Satoru replies, his voice dripping with similar sarcasm. The book is then left on the nightstand for now, in favor of having his hands free to hug Sera properly. She showers him with all she has, all the love, care and understanding he needs. She scratches the trimmed hairs of his undercut just right, murmurs the most soothing words into his ear (I love you, I love you, I love you) and makes him melt atop her.

"It’s cheesy, but… I’m so glad you exist, Satoru. So glad you’re here with me."

"Think I deserve a little cheese on my birthday."

"I’m glad you think so, ‘cause I got you a cheesecake, too."

Now, Satoru peeks up at his wife with furrowed eyebrows, disbelief obvious on his face. Sera snorts and shakes her head.

"Okay, I didn’t. I bought that one cake selection thing, with seven different flavours."

That gets Satoru all excited, of course.

"We should definitely eat cake now."

"Satoru, it’s eight in the morning—"

And with a pout; "It’s my birthday!"

Sera couldn’t say no to him even if she tried. She wanders off to the kitchen, and they eat half-frozen cake on their bed.

A comfortable silence settles between them, but not for long.

"Thank you, Sera. For the present. It reminds me of how lucky I am."

His wife hums in response, before smiling. "Did you flip trough the whole thing yet?"

Satoru's eyes widen in surprise, a telltale sign of him having missed one significant part of the book. He picks it up with lightning speed, and flips through it again.

"Oooh, what is it? A few hidden pages filled with your lovely nude..."

Her husband falls silent once more. After a few blank pages, a new section seems to begin, titled "Our own little family." To say his jaw drops to the floor would be an understatement.

"But... you're not pregnant, right? Or are you?" Satoru asks, and the hopeful glimmer in his eyes causes Sera's heart to swell with affection.

"N-no, no," she murmurs, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "I was just thinking... when we decide to... you know..."

When. It's not an "if" anymore.

Satrou all but tackles her in a hug. The cake is swiftly forgotten among the kisses he then showers Sera with — kisses of gratitude, no doubt.

Sera knows he is excited for their future, just as excited as she is. If not more.

#🫧.;* sera’s creations #self ship #self ship fanfiction #f/o x s/i #｡.｡:∞ satosera ; infinitetime ♡*

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itsaash · 6 months

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Hamptons cubs AU: monster

This is the second last part!! Wild. Thanks to @noots-fic-fests and @lumosinlove and to everyone who has been reading.

He was nervous and excited for the big day, Leo’s food being photographed and the magazine editor trying his recipes. He wanted to help and maybe also wanted to hide. But, no, they didn’t know he had heard them, and after a nice evening all together and some sleep, he felt less mortified. Honestly, he was sad. They’d be leaving tonight, after the dinner. It was the last night that he’d have friends in his house and the spectre of a quiet week hung over him. He let the rhythm of his steps on the boardwalk lull him and the bad feelings slowly faded away. He’d help Leo, do anything he can to make the dinner a success, and see Leo again in a few short days. Finn loved how nothing seemed as bad after a run.

He walked through the kitchen to Logan making coffees.

“Hiho, Logan,” Finn said, chugging some water.

“You’ve already exercised? Gross,” Logan said. His hair was still sleep mussed and his voice was scratchy. “I had to promise Leo coffee in bed to convince him to not make another practice batch of boudin before this afternoon.”

Finn laughed. “Good man, and good luck,” he said with a salute and left the room to shower. He figured he should leave Leo and Logan alone, Logan knew how to support Leo better than he ever could. He hit the doorframe with his palm as he passed under it, feeling unsettled.

The nervous energy in the house was high the rest of the morning. Haley and Ramsey cleaned, Finn tried to work while Leo did the first steps of the boudin balls. He chopped onion and peppers and jalapeños into small cubes. Finn found himself in awe, just watching the knife move in meticulous motions, leaving each ingredient perfectly shaped. Leo went through the steps that even Finn was becoming familiar with, adding the meat and spices, setting the pot to simmer, having Logan taste it and adjust. Finn managed to work a bit while the pot was simmering, the smell started to spread through the air. He kept glancing outside, where Logan had led Leo by the hand to sit in the shade while he could. The mixture got processed and then they all ate lunch together, Leo serving the coleslaw he had made the day before, rice, and some of the boudin that hadn’t gone into the fridge to be made into balls. Finn set to washing the dishes so the kitchen would be ready when it was time to prep for Pandora to arrive. When they came back in, Leo took the batch out from the fridge and he had his game face on, which made Finn's heart expand in earnestness.

“Holy fuck I forgot the parsley,” Leo said, under his breath and in horror. Finn and Logan both snapped their heads up.

“Quoi?” Logan said, in shock.

“Ok, ok, you can mix it in still, right? Cut it super fine and mix it in?” Fine offered, shaking off his wet hands.

Leo was already moving to the fridge to get the fresh parsley. “Yeah, yeah, ok, shit, how could I forget this?”

Logan ran a hand up and down his back as he stood behind him.

“It’s ok love, you’re doing so much and it’s all going to be amazing. We can fix this.”

Leo nodded like a puppet and set to chopping the parsley.

He cut himself.

He had used those knives all week, and he was a professional. He was moving quickly, but he always cut safely. But shit happens, and maybe mercury was retrograding, or maybe it was fate or just bad fucking luck, but today was just the day that he happened to cut himself. It wasn’t good.

He stood in silence for a long second before the pain hit, in shock. When Leo gasped and swore in pain both Logan and Finn jumped towards him. Finn saw the blood and ran for the first aid kit in the bathroom, when he got back Logan had Leo’s hand wrapped in paper towel, still standing in the same spot he had been chopping.

“Ok Leo, it’s ok, just over here, ok? We’ve got you,” Finn led Leo to the sink. He peeled away the red paper towel and had Leo do a quick rinse under cold water so they could see the damage. Finn felt a wave of relief, the end of a finger was cut, but it wasn’t gaping or gushing and with a soft murmured question and a wince of pain, Leo agreed he could move his finger. Finn took some gauze from the kit and pressed it to Leo’s finger.

“Pressure. 5 minutes, no peeking. Just hold it.” Leo nodded, his blue eyes looking big and shiny. Finn wrapped his hand around both of Leo’s. “It’s ok, it’s going to be ok.”

Logan pushed a stool over to them, and Leo sat down into it and closed his eyes for a long second. One tear trailed down his cheek and Finn followed its progress raptly all the way down to his jaw.

“Fuck me,” Leo said and opened his eyes. Finn’s heart squeezed at the worry in his eyes.

“No, no, Leo, it’s ok. We’ll help. It’ll stop bleeding soon, and we’ll help you. We’re still getting you in that magazine.”

Logan had appeared at Leo’s side and pressed his body into the side of Leo’s. Leo tilted his head over, resting on Logan’s chest, and Finn was very aware that he was still holding Leo’s hand, but he didn’t let go.

“You stay here, soleil, I’ll clean up, c'est bon. Finn, more paper towels and some sort of cleaner?”

“Uh, some regular cleaner under the sink here, but I think the powerful stuff and more paper towels are in the closet upstairs.” He started to turn, but Logan waved him off.

“Ouais, I’ll find them,” he said, and hurried out of the kitchen.

Leo took a shaky breath and Finn brought his other hand up to Leo’s forearm and stepped closer.

“Are you ok? How much does it hurt?”

“It hurts. I’m more so mad at myself, why today?” Leo moaned, dropping his head back in frustration. “I wanted today to be perfect.”

“Hey, hey, Le, we are going to help you. I’ll cut the parsley. You can direct us. We’ve seen you do this, we can help. And you’ll stop bleeding and you’ll be able to do some of the steps later today. It’s all still good.” Fines was rubbing Leo’s arm as he spoke, trying to soothe him.

“Yeah, yeah ok, thanks Finn,” Leo said through a sigh and brought his head back down. And suddenly, they were much closer together than they had been. Leo’s face was so close, closer than Finn had ever seen it. His eyes were bright, and there were a few wet tracks down his cheeks. Freckles scattered lightly over his cheeks and there was the grey patch of hair at his forehead, blending in with the rest of his blond curls. Their eyes locked together for a long, heart thumping moment. Finn’s hand moved without thought, and brushed the hair back from Leo’s face. He was even closer now, so close. Finn could feel the heat coming off of Leo’s body and noticed for the first time he was standing between Leo’s legs. How had he not realised that before? He felt blood rush to his ears, a flush rising to his neck. He saw Leo’s eyes dart down to his lips and then they were even closer together, Finn could feel Leo’s shallow breaths through the small space between them.

“Found them!” Logan said, entering the kitchen. Finn jumped and straightened, but managed to not bolt, some part of his traitorous brain thankfully remembering he had Leo’s injured hand wrapped in his.

“Awesome, Tremzy,” Finn said, trying to sound normal, whatever the fuck normal would even mean amidst this fucking soap opera of a day.

“Has it stopped bleeding yet?” Logan asked as he sprayed and wiped the counter and floor.

“2 more minutes of compression before we check,” Finn said. He was thankful he had a reason to have a shaky voice. Leo was quiet, was just looking at him. “Can you grab Leo a tylenol when you’re done there, Tremz? From that cabinet there?”

Logan tossed the dirty cleaning supplies and got the tylenol, joined Leo and Finn. He stroked Leo’s hair as Finn just had been, and Finn felt his heart squeeze in guilt. Leo was Logan’s boyfriend. He was being a monster. He had to stop this.

“We’re going to need more parsley, right?” Finn asked, voice high. “I know where it is in the garden, I’ll be back.” And he finally let go of Leo’s hand, gently, letting Logan take it instead, and fled outside.

Before going back inside, Finn gathered himself for what felt like the 100th time that week. Why couldn’t his stupid body remember that the two of them were already together? It had been a good week, but also such a confusing one. He put the parsley to his nose and inhaled the savoury scent, using it to distract himself and focus. Leo was inside fucking bleeding and needed his help. He had to go help and make this day happen, for Leo.

So he slid the door open and went into the kitchen, which undeniably smelled amazing, although now with more than a hint of cleaner.

“You ok Leo?” Seeing him sitting on the stool, Logan between his legs now, his forehead resting on Logan’s chest, it was easy to just focus on what needed to be done. “Has it stopped bleeding?”

Leo tilted his head up at him. His face glistened with sweat and tears. “Yeah, it’s getting there. Just mad at myself.”

“Non, it’s not your fault and I don’t want to hear you say it is,” Logan said into Leo’s hair.

“Want me to chop this?” Finn asked, holding up the parsley.

“Yeah, thanks so much Finn, you’re a lifesaver.” Finn took a step towards the cutting board and Leo spoke again. “Actually, you could put it in the little smoothie blender. It’ll get tiny and then no one has to use knives again.”

“You sure? I can do it slow and steady?” Finn said.

“I’m sure, the blender will get it nice and small.”

So Finn processed the parsley and mixed it carefully into the boudin and put it all back in the fridge.

“D’accord, that has to sit for awhile yet? And there’s time. Let’s get your finger wrapped up.” Logan carefully unwrapped the digit and used a butterfly bandage, gauze, and a finger bandaid. He kissed the tip of each of Leo’s uninjured fingers and raised Leo’s hand above his head. Leo kept his arm up as Logan leaned in for a soft but deep kiss. “We’re ok, it’s ok,” he murmured. Finn busied himself cleaning up the first aid kit while Logan led Leo to the couch. Finn brought Leo a glass of iced tea and then turned back to his notes, not looking at how Logan and Leo’s hair mixed and contrasted when their heads were tilted together.

~~~~~~~

Like they were professional athletes at a starting line, at 2:00 the final preparations began. Finn’s parents vacated the area, and Logan and Finn helped Leo gather the ingredients from the fridge and pantry.

“Put on some music, Harzy?” Leo asked. “Give us something motivational or optimistic or even full on delusional, cause we have to get this done.”

They all laughed when the first bars of eye of the tiger started, so Finn let the song keep playing.

“Ok love, so you can’t use your left hand as your wet hand for the egg dipping, right? I think Finn and I can manage rolling the balls and dipping them in the egg and breadcrumbs? And you can probably manage frying them with one hand?�� Logan said.

“You know the steps?” Leo said, impressed.

“Leo,” Finn laughed. “Do you know how many times you’ve made these this week? Ok I’m on egg, you take the breadcrumbs, Tremzy.”

And so they did. Finn formed the balls, Leo sitting across from them and approving the size and shape of each before he would dip the ball in egg and then place it into the dish with bread crumbs in it. Logan would shower it in breadcrumbs and line them up on a tray. A pot of oil was starting to sizzle on the stove. Logan and Finn gave each other an eggy and crumby high five when all the balls were coated and lined, and laughed as they cleaned up the space for Leo to start frying. After Leo struggled with the first few, they found another pattern of Finn helping to stabilise the ball onto a slotted spoon that Leo used to slowly lower them into the oil, and Logan had a paper towel and cooling rack lined tray right beside Leo to roll the balls off onto. Leo hardly needed to take a step, and their five hands worked in tandem, like a coordinated dance, music playing in the background and the trees waving through the window, for nearly an hour while they fried all the boudin balls.

Leo laughed in relief when he set the last one on the cooling tray. “Wow, that was probably ridiculous to watch, but we make a good team.” He took Logan under his arm and gave Finn a gentle fist bump with the other. “I appreciate y’all helping me.”

“Nothing else we’d rather do,” Logan said. “What’s next?”

Leo rolled his shoulders back, thinking. “Plate the coleslaw into one of the pretty pottery bowls, grill the veg, thank the lord they’re already chopped, cut the cornbread into cute squares and plate them, plate the boudin balls and the sauce, and I think that’s it.”

Finn shook his head, laughing. “I want to eat all of it right now,” he clapped his hands together. “Ok, chop chop then!”

Leo levelled him with a serious look. “No chopping jokes, thank you very much.”

Finn rested his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Ok, no problem. I’ll cut it out.”

Logan and Leo both groaned. “I’ll do dishes and get the stuff from the fridge,” Logan said with an eye roll.

“I’ll get the veggies all out to the barbeque, and then come back in and cut the bread,” Finn laughed.

“No, I want to cut the cornbread. I’m fine, I can do it,” Leo protested. Finn agreed, reluctantly and they all set to their tasks. Leo supervised and advised and chose which dishes to use, and set a few more aside in case the photographer wanted options, and it was generally organised chaos until everything was sitting arrayed on the kitchen island and they stood there proudly, nothing left to do.

“Leo,” Finn sighed. “It smells and looks so good. I can’t even believe we have to wait for the pictures to be done to get to eat it all.”

Leo just laughed and stretched his arms above his head. “I’m so nervous, and I can’t smell anything anymore. What if it’s all gross,” he groaned. Logan shook his head and shoved him towards the door, both of them going upstairs to change into fresh clothes.

Pandora arrived like a summer breeze, warm and airy and kind. She exclaimed over the smells and the house and the view. She started clicking photos and jotting down notes about the recipes almost the minute she arrived. Finn and Logan retreated to the dining table to give them space, and just watched Leo describe the food animatedly, watched him and Pandora arrange and rearrange the dishes. Moving them into and out of the dappled light coming through the windows. Beside the pretty backsplash, on the wood floor, then brought some of the dishes outside to photograph with a natural background.

Logan scooted his chair right beside Finn’s. “Look at him smile, he’s so happy,” he sighed.

Finn smiled back, responding to Logan’s bright smile. “Yeah, he’s really really good at this.”

“Ouais, he’s just so good overall? He’s amazing. I’m so lucky.”

“Yeah, he’s the best,” Finn agreed, the words so true he hadn’t thought to hold them back until they were out. He turned to Logan with a moment of worry that Logan wouldn’t like him saying that. But Logan was just looking at him softly.

“You’re pretty amazing too, Finn. Thank you so much for this week. It’s been so nice, to be somewhere this beautiful, this chill, with Leo,” he gestured out the door, then turned back to Finn, “with you.”

Finn crooked a smile at him. “Well I can’t take much credit for any of the beauty around here. Thank my parents, and like, the gardener I guess.” He was trying to downplay, but also couldn’t tear his gaze away from Logan’s. Logan was looking right back at him. He had a ring of hazel brown at the centre of his green eyes, only there when you were looking this closely, in the bright natural light of the kitchen. Finn could look at these eyes for hours, the colour was so deep and velvety. And then there were his lips. They were a bit dry, but such a full, perfect shape. Finn couldn’t look away and when he glanced back up to Logan’s eyes he saw that Logan was looking at him just as intently and for the second time today his heart sped up and heat spread up his neck. Two people, so different, but both so extraordinary, his heart felt like it was growing, making more room.

“I think you can take some credit,” Logan said lowly. What had they been talking about? “You are so generous, Finn. So fun to be around. This week, with you, has been really special.” Logan was even closer now, again, and Finn could now feel his breath gently against his skin, soft and sweet.

Pandora and Leo bustled back into the room, talking animatedly. Finn bounced away from Logan, and Logan sat back more slowly, smiling over at Leo. Finn stiffened, and stayed stiff the rest of the night. He didn’t let himself reach across Logan for the coleslaw, didn’t take Leo’s hand to inspect when he asked how his finger was feeling. He did everything he could to avoid the gravity that was pulling him towards Leo and Logan. They ate, and laughed. With his parents and Pandora at the table too, the conversation was free and easy even as Finn’s heart was tight and guilt gnawed at him. Pandora left, effervescent with praise for Leo and excited discussion about sharing and editing the photos. Finn’s parents shooed the boys from the kitchen, saying they would clean up tonight. Logan and Leo packed up and before Finn knew it they were all standing outside the front door, near where he had first seen Logan again for the first time in years, just 10 days ago. He melted a little into Leo’s deep hug, unable to stop himself from absorbing the sunshiney heat Leo’s presence always brought. Then Logan stepped forwards and part of Finn wanted to bolt, but as images of lowly lit study rooms and Harvard greens passed through his mind, he took Logan into his arms and inhaled deeply with his nose in Logan’s neck.

“It was so good to see you again, Tremzy,” Finn said, his voice shaky.

“You too Finn. This was, well this was the best surprise. And the best week.” Finn pulled away, knowing he was dangerously close to tears.

“Thanks for having us,” Logan said.

“No problem,” Finn said, overly bright. His eyes were stinging. “Anytime!”

He felt Leo and Logan’s gaze travel over him and he held himself tall and smiling, waving until they were in their Uber and driving away. Then he collapsed onto the front step, head in his hands as one ragged sob escaped his chest. They were so good, and here he was, wanting both of them.

I’m such a monster.

#characters by lumosinlove #coast to coast #o'knutzy #fic-o-ween 2023 #Hamptons au #cw blood #cw minor injury #second last part!!!

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hannahssimblr · 6 months

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Chapter Eight (Part 2)

“You’re not smoking either.” I observe, recalling how he told Liam that he wasn’t stoned, and Jude nods. “No, I actually don’t ever smoke. Or do any drugs, I just don’t like the way that my body feels when I’ve had them.” He says it in such a self assured way that I wonder why I’m ever embarrassed to admit similar things to anybody. I never knew that you could just say that you didn’t want to do any drugs or even to drink without some made-up excuse, and people would be fine with it.

“Don’t you mind it when people are on drugs around you?”

“No, I’m used to it. I don’t really feel like I need it, in case you didn’t notice, I have a lot of energy so I can keep on going for a long time when we go out.”

“I think that’s really cool.” I tell him, and he laughs a little and nods his head. Clearly he doesn’t need me to approve of him, and I wish that I had chosen something else to say instead.

“So what brought you and Liam into town tonight?” He wants to know, and I sigh, the thought of Liam’s sad face making my stomach clench up with guilt. “We wanted to come in and get something to eat and hang out together, but honestly I don’t think it went well at all.”

“Oh really, why not?”

I lean back against the low wall where the school bag full of cans is sitting and cradle my arms. It’s starting to feel colder now, a sharp breeze whipping in from the sea as the sun creeps lower towards the horizon. “He asked me to go to his debs with him.”

Jude leans next to me and looks at me with confusion. “And what? You said that you don’t want to go?”

“I said that I’ll think about it, and I know that’s not what he wanted to hear.”

“I mean, probably not, but if you don’t want to go then he has to accept it.”

“Well, I don’t know whether I want to go or not. It just came up really suddenly and I didn’t know how to answer him, so I just said that, and I think it’s probably as bad for him as if I had just said no. I wish I could go back and have another chance at that conversation, honestly.”

“Well if you were to go back now would you say yes?”

“Maybe.”

“And for who?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“Who would you be saying yes for? For yourself or for him, because you know it’s what he’d want you to say?”

“I don’t know. Him, I guess. I just don’t want him to be mad at me.”

He shakes his head. “You know already that’s not a good enough reason. If you don’t feel like going then just say no, he can deal with it.”

“I know that it sounds really stupid to you probably, but I really can’t stand it when people are upset around me. I feel like I have to do everything in my power to make them forgive me.”

“Including going to the debs with Liam even though you don’t want to do that?”

“Well.. I didn’t say I don’t want to go with him.”

“Okay, well hypothetically then.”

“Hypothetically… yeah, I would go.”

He rakes his hand through his hair and shakes his head in amazement. “You’re an enigma.”

“Nothing that deep, I don’t think. Just allergic to conflict.”

“Well… do whatever you have to do, but personally… I don’t think I’d give a shit if someone like Liam was annoyed at me. What is he going to do?”

“Be mad and make me feel awful!” I declare. “He already did that this morning and I’ve been feeling ill all day over it, you should have seen him when he opened the Surf Shack, he didn’t even want to let me inside to talk to him, and he was just-”

“But why was he like that with you this morning?”

I pause, trying to think of a way to explain it without telling him about Liam’s jealousy of him. “I… forgot to text him back.”

“Evie…”

“I know, but I left the texts unread for nearly a whole day.”

“There are messages in my phone that have gone unanswered for months.”

“Yeah, but it’s different when it’s- It’s just different with Liam and I.”

“Yesterday you said he’s not your boyfriend though.”

“He isn’t.”

Jude gives up and just rolls his eyes. “When I moved here I thought that the way Irish people would date each other was so weird.”

“I guess it is weird. Nothing like it is on TV.”

“Right. Like nobody really goes on real dates here, do they?”

“No!” I exclaim. The idea of going on a date seems like something stuffy and vaguely embarrassing. If a boy asked me to go on a date with him I have no idea what I’d say.

“Everyone just meets at parties and asks each other to kiss. And then what? Eventually you come to a mutual understanding that you’re a couple.”

“Exactly.”

“Well when I was twelve,” he begins to tell me. “I really liked this girl called Alice at school, and I decided to ask her on a date. I thought we could go bowling and then get something to eat together, so I walked up to her before our first class of the day and I made my proposal. I said ‘Hey, Alice, would you maybe want to go out with me sometime? I can take you to the bowling alley and buy you an ice cream.’” The thought of him doing this makes me laugh out loud. “That’s the most cringeworthy thing I ever heard! It sounds like something from the 1950s.”

He cackles. “I know! Apparently so! She laughed in my face and told me she was going to a teenage disco that Friday so she might see me there instead, so I got all dressed up for it and met her and her friends there. And we had a horrible, awkward kiss under the disco lights but I was happy.”

“And did you ever become a thing?”

“No,” He snorts. “She kissed seven other boys that night, tallied them up on her arm with a marker and then ignored me at school every day after that. Who said romance is dead?”

“Oh no! I feel so bad for you.”

“It’s okay, it was seven years ago. I think I’m just about over it.”

I say nothing for a moment and just stare out over the sea where the lights from the town are reflected in black, deep waters. A distant ferry blows its fog horn through the encroaching darkness just as a cold wind rushes around me causing goosebumps to spring up on my bare arms. I shiver and bare my teeth.

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m alright. I’ll survive.” I say, because I don’t want to stop talking to him. I don’t want anything to interrupt our conversation, including me being cold and needing to seek out a jacket because I foolishly forgot to bring my own.

Jen turns around to us then and explains that the gang has a new plan. “We’re thinking of going to that nightclub in town.” She tells us. “It’s almost ten now, so it should be open if you guys want to come?”

“Ah, I don’t have ID.” I say, realising that the night is now over for me regardless. “They won’t let me in.”

“Oh yeah, shoot, you’re not old enough, I forgot.”

“Go on without me though, I don’t mind. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

Jen hesitates, but I know that she really wants to go. “Are you sure? How will you get home?”

“I’ll get a taxi I suppose.” I know this will cost a lot of money, but I suppose that it serves me right. I really didn’t have a plan when I came out to meet them, and now that I’ve let Liam go home alone I’m really left with no other option. I figure that it will be karmic punishment to have to pay almost twenty euros for a taxi, and accepting my fate I begin to stand up and get moving so that nobody feels they have to wait around for me.

“No, I��ll take you home.” Jude has stood up too and is already zipping up the school bag full of cans and handing it to Kasper.

“No, you don’t have to take me. You can go and hang out with everyone else, honestly, it’s fine, I don’t mind getting the taxi.”

“I don’t want to go to the club, I want to bring you home.”

I believe him. I feel like I would believe anything he says, like if he said the sky was yellow now I wouldn’t even question it. I just don’t know why he wants to sacrifice his night to bring me home. It’s not even that late yet. Nonetheless, we say goodbye to the others and we go our separate directions.

When Jude and I walk together it’s so quiet that all I can hear is our footsteps. As always, I feel a nervous excitement around him, for us to be on our own like this at night – it feels thrilling. Another frigid wind blows towards us, and I can’t conceal my shivers as it whips my arms and face.

“You’re cold.” Jude’s not asking me this time, he’s stating a fact, and so I have to concede. “Yes, I’m cold.”

“Here.” To my amazement, he pulls his red hoodie over his head and hands it to me. He’s only wearing a black t-shirt under it.

“Won’t you be cold too?” I ask him.

“No, I’ll be okay.”

I pull it on and it’s huge on me. The arms hang down to my knees and I have to roll up the sleeves so that I can manage to adjust the shoulders and collar. It smells nice. It smells like a boy, like Jude. That way that he smells that I can’t describe, like sea salt, maybe, mixed with pine needles and laundry detergent. It’s still warm from it being on his body, and as I tuck my chin into it’s collar I think about how the same material was touching his neck only moments ago. The idea of having even this kind of minor closeness with him does something funny to my insides.

“Where did you park your car?” I ask him, and he smiles. “I didn’t bring my car.”

“So we’re walking?!” As thrilling as the idea of spending more time next to him is, I’m not completely enamoured by the idea of walking all the way back to the holiday village with him. It will take us hours.

“No!” he says. “I cycled. Oh, hang on.” Without warning he reaches into the pocket of my – his – hoodie and takes out a set of keys. The pocket is hanging over the side of my thigh, and the sensation of his fingers on me, even through layers of fabric, makes me jump. He notices. “Oh, sorry.”

His bike is locked to a lamppost nearby, and as soon as he wrangles the lock open he gestures to it like it’s a golden carriage, rusty chain and spray paint on the spokes and all. “Hop on.” he says, and I climb onto the pannier rack at the back and hold onto him tightly as we whiz away into the night.

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#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 1

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msfbgraves · 1 year

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i’m watching the first karate kid movie, and i had forgotten how really awful johnny was to daniel in this. he was such a bully to the poor boy! but i had also forgotten how absolutely lovable daniel was—he was such a scrappy, cute, kind and sweet boy. the first thing he does when he gets to the new apartment is find some water for a neighbor’s dog—without being asked or anything! what an angel. and i love the relationship he has with his mum. so adorable!!

that’s something i didn’t like about ck—how they made the mum not like amanda when she’s so loving and supportive in this movie.

and i can’t stand how in ck, they downplay johnny’s mean bullying actions to daniel, but play up daniel’s responses to them or his short temper. wtf!!!

johnny is 100% in the wrong, fuck the ck writers. trying to make daniel into an aggressor when he was 100% the bully, and a friendly sweetheart to boot.

What is so sad about how they handled the way Johnny sees Daniel is that it could have made for such a good show. Because Johnny is objectively wrong, but the new audience doesn't know that, and they could have fanbase go "Wait, I don't remember that at all...?!?"

Because it is fine that Johnny is an unreliable narrator. That is fun, actually. He begins the very first episode on a lie: Daniel did not leave him lying facedown on the floor, as the first episode suggests, but it's been over 30 years and maybe Johnny remembers it this way now, because he looks on that moment as the moment his whole life spiralled downhill.

That is good storytelling! That is cool storytelling! They could even frame Daniel through Johnny's eyes as doing things Johnny perceives to be asshole moves, because that's how he wants to think of Daniel.

But where they went wrong with Daniel is that they showed him doing asshole things even when Johnny was nowhere in sight. And that's just not Daniel. That's bad writing! I really admire how Ralph managed to make it pretty clear even then that Daniel is reacting to the threat that is Cobra Kai, not the threat that is Johnny Lawrence, but it would have been much better if, for instance, you only see Daniel through Johnny's eyes, freaking out completely over Cobra Kai, and then the story would shift to Robby, being Johnny's son, and then everybody already loves Johnny, and they're like oho, no, Robby is getting pulled into that asshole's world and then it turns out that Daniel simply isn't an asshole. And then you get to the fight between Robby and Miguel and Robby is not an asshole at all, either. He's good, he's polite, Daniel is a good sensei, and Miguel wins because he attacks Robby's injury outside the fight and Johnny has to go like, ah, shit, AITA?

But they had to make it that Johnny was right! And you can't do that without making Daniel a completely different person! I'm glad they had this moment midway season two where Daniel went "Wow. That was out of character, huh?" and was simply allowed to act more like himself, but it would have been a better show if the writers had not been so obsessed with having found their anti-woke icon who cannot do wrong and acknowledged far earlier that Johnny's mindset is messed up and getting people hurt left right and center. And maybe even delved into the fact that if Robby is messed up to no end, which he is too, possibly giving him the skills to hurt people more effectively is not a good idea. Mr. Miyagi did not go around teaching karate either; you need a very strong student sensei bond, a real need to fight (Robby wasn't being bullied), and even then I think that Mr. Miyagi very consciously steered Daniel away from the attacking side of karate. Not because he wasn't good enough, as ck has Chozen imply, but because Daniel does have a little Cobra Kai in him, Terry isn't wrong. Daniel loves the thrill of the fight a bit too much, actually. That's in the films. "Why didn't you kill him?" Because murder bad, Daniel-san? (Tf, boy, I'm not teaching offense any time soon...) and how they built on that in CK is actually interesting! Of course no karate is defense only. But Miyagi only taught Daniel to fight with a bo because if he'd taught him to fight with sai somebody might have ended up very dead...

...Anyway, the reason I write all that is because of Robert Mark Kamen and Ralph playing Daniel, not the CK writers writing Daniel.

And yes, what they keep doing with Lucille is so bad. Nagging mother-in-law, really? Like she doesn't understand what being a working Mom is. And with her own business. Also that story about Daniel lying to her as a young boy, "it wasn't me?" Daniel is an atrocious liar, honest to a fault, he only ever lies to save others pain. "I have it under control!" [He did not, in fact, have anything under control] that's Daniel. Lucille wants Daniel to have someone, why would she come between them? If anything, that sends up red flags about Amanda. But the writers do not care, because what to mothers in law do other than nag about dinner? They have not thought about what it actually means to be a working Mom for ten seconds. The only thing they really care about is redeeming bullies and dealing with Daddy issues.

And yet so often they write something really interesting without meaning to, or the actors play it in a way where it suddenly does add 20 layers to what we knew before but that is about as often despite the writing rather than because of it. It has so much heart, and commitment, and it's often almost good and then they're like no, our self-insert Johnny is the best Johnny even when Billy and Marty are like, 'actually, you're dead wrong...'

#ck negativity

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hargrove-mayfields · 2 years

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It’s the 30th, which means it’s already the final day of @harringroveweek! I had such a fun time writing a new piece for every day! Thank you to everyone who participated in, engaged with, and organized this event!!

Today I chose the song of the day prompt: I Think We’re Alone Now by Tiffany!

trigger warning for detailed depictions of blood/injury and general violence. Basically, monster hunting.

If he lived to see another day, Steve was going to murder those kids.

Sending him out there with no back up, no plan, no fucking way out. Just watching as he was dragged under and didn’t resurface. What a real group of geniuses they are.

He doesn’t even know how long it’s been since then. If maybe they’ve forgotten about him. He’d prefer to think that they just think he found his way out and skipped town or something. Not that they probably had given up all hope.

To be fair, he would’ve too, pretty early on actually since after only about a few minutes of the portal sealing itself behind him, he’d been jumped by some new flesh eating thing.

Yet another obstacle he’d come unprepared for, without even a weapon.

Laying on the ground, being eaten alive by those things, that was when everything changed though.

Because Billy Hargrove, looking only a little worse for wear, had been the one to bash the monsters in, and toss Steve his own bat to finish the job.

Time moves differently down here, so he doesn’t know how long it’s been since then either, but one thing Steve is perfectly certain of is the fact that they’ve fought through another three hordes of those things, and spent even longer hiding from more.

They haven’t even had a chance to talk about much, like what happened before Billy died. Dynamic wise, things seem unchanged from last year, but as far as Steve remembered, Billy had died heartbroken by him and his stupid inability to not be jealous all the time. They fought and broke up and then Billy went missing.

But now he’s alive again, in better shape than Steve even, and they’re too busy fighting for their lives to fight for themselves. They just sort of accept that they’re together again.

Feeling like he can’t walk any further, Steve leans against the siding of a crumpled metal shed. They’d searched it for more weapons, then promptly broke most of them when another pack of demobats showed. His mouth tastes like blood, and not because he bit one this time. He needs a break.

“Hey. I think we lost them..”

Billy turns his head to look at him sharply, “Just like you’ve lost your damned mind if you think that means I’m just going to stand here and wait for them to come back.”

“I’m not stopping, I just need a breath. Not all of us have had this shit in our lungs for as long as you have.” Steve is doubled over now, panting a little. Blood and spit drip past his lips. Not a good sign.

The harshness drops from Billy’s tone instantly, moving to trying to encourage him, “Can’t let it get in your head or you’ll suffocate. You’re fine, Steve. Gotta keep going.”

Wheezing, Steve emphasizes his point, “So a little break isn’t going to kill us. I seriously think we’re alone now..”

“Fine. But if those things catch up to us again, with you in this state, we’re goners.” Billy sounds stern, but his heart isn’t in it.

Tired of leaning on hard metal, Steve sinks to the ground to catch his breath, “What happened to not letting it get to your head?”

Billy moves closer, drawing his weapon of choice, which is a shotgun for now. A silent agreement to stand guard for Steve while he’s down. He mutters bitterly, despite his willingness to help, “There’s a difference between being cautious and driving yourself crazy.”

“I think being trapped down here with you is enough to drive me crazy.”

“Good crazy or bad crazy?” Billy scoffs a laugh, and Steve returns it with a crooked, pained smile, “Both.”

“Aw, you’re just flattering me.”

“See? I can’t even get a word out without you being all sarcastic and snarky about it.”

“You like it.” Billy hums confidently, so, instead of disputing it, Steve decides to catch Billy’s ego off guard, “I guess I do. That’s why we’re going to make it out of here, Billy.”

Everything about him softens, his face, his posture, his voice, “Well if we’re going to do that, you’re gonna need patched up again. You’ve bled through again.”

“I’m fine.” Steve tries to resist, just so he doesn’t become a burden. His feelings towards Billy are too complicated right now, caught between that old summer fling and a sense of inferiority, for how quickly he succumbed to a bite when Billy’s been here for twice as long.

“Sure, thing. Just watch my back.” Billy hands off the gun and kneels in front of Steve, digging through the bag of supplies he’d been able to accrue during his time down here until he finds more bandage rolls, the cleanest material he can.

Shifting forward on his knees, Billy rolls up the sticky, tattered shirt they threw on Steve to cover his bandaging the last time. He grimaces, and Steve takes that as his cue to look straight up at the sky instead of assessing the damage for himself, “Damn it, Stevie. This is getting bad.”

He swallows hard, bracing himself by asking, “How bad?”

“Not worse than I’ve seen it. Just.. not good.” Billy pokes at it, assessing the damage. Even the lightest prod feels like fire in Steve’s abdomen, the pain flaring as far up as his chest.

He starts to panic, seeing the expression in the other boy's face combined with the intense feeling, “Oh god..”

Pulling his hands away to look for something else, bandages apparently not cutting it anymore, Billy warns, firm but sort of sweet sounding, “Panicking’s not going to do anything but shorten your air intake and attract those things to the sound. If you’d like to savor this tranquility, I suggest you cut the freaking out.”

Steve closes his eyes and tries to follow his advice. The first thing that comes to mind, he starts talking about it to get his mind off of the irritating ache, “You always just call the monsters ‘things.’ You haven’t named them yet?”

Billy snort-laughs, half-heartedly sarcastic, “Uh, no? Why the hell would I? They’re trying to eat me, they’re not my pets.”

Something wet touches him, and he reacts so fast, but so uncoordinatedly that he smacks his head off of the surface he was leaning on. It’s just a rag with bottled water, Billy’s attempt at washing away some of the dried blood to asses the damage further, but it felt suspiciously like a bat tail. Billy smiles apologetically. Steve rolls his eyes pathetically slow and and keeps talking,

“We call the big ones demogorgons. And the little ones are just demo whatevers: demodogs, demobats, now..”

Periodically checking in with Steve on what he’s doing after that little scare, Billy glances up at him, waiting for a small nod to keep pressing harder, wiping away more blood and dirt and monster spit than Steve knew was possible to have on him. He keeps him engaged as well, asking, amused, “Those losers named the interdimensional face-eating monsters after dungeons and dragons?”

“You recognized it.”

“Shit. You got me.”

A particularly painful movement has Steve wincing, demanding despite the nice back and forth they had going, “Are you done yet?”

“Almost. This last parts gonna hurt..” Billy warns, and Steve tries to understand but,

“Why? What are you- Fuck!”

Too late. There’s a stinging pain so intense his vision goes blurry, and if Steve didn’t want to throw up so bad he’d be cursing at Billy for it.

Knowing that just from Steve’s posture and his clenched fists, Billy explains himself, “Sorry, H. Pretty sure that was a tooth or something in there. I couldn’t bandage you back up like that.”

Steve lets his head fall back, suddenly feeling more exhausted with all this, his pain levels admittedly somewhat improving with that thing out of him, even if it sucked to get to that point, “Just please tell me that was it.”

Finally wrapping the bandage around, watching Steve’s face to make sure it isn’t too tight and making him feel weirdly vulnerable under his gaze, Billy remarks, proud of his work, “It’s your lucky day. All done.”

Finally Steve relaxes, exhaling out some of the tension he kept in his muscles to make Billy's job easier. It helps, but not much. “Christ.. How did you survive down here for so long? I’ve been here what, a few hours? And I’m barely hanging on.”

“One, don’t say that kind of shit. You’re fine. Two, I don’t really know why I was able to fight for so long.”

Billy looks away, whether he’s hiding his feelings or checking the tree line, Steve isn’t sure, “I mean, I guess that’s what I’ve done all my life, is fight against some big scary monster. Except now instead of worrying about school and my social life and watching Max, it’s just about surviving now. My troubles are between me and the monster and nobody else for once. So it’s almost easier.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something in response and validate his willingness to share his feelings, his breath sort of crackling in his throat, but Billy cuts him off quickly and stiffly, “I’m not done.”

“When all I have to do is fight, and not try to balance all these problems on top of an already broken foundation, I got to thinking. About how shitty I’d been to everyone, just because I was too busy fighting the monsters to notice. You and Max and Sinclair, mostly. Susan too. Everyone really though.”

Billy pauses to clear his throat. Steve can tell it's to hide the strained sound of a tearful voice, but he also coughs, pretending it was something to do with the air. In exchange for how open he’s being, Steve is willing to let him have that, “I dunno. I just felt kinda shitty knowing that if I died here and never made it back, everyone would always think of me like that, and I would have done nothing with my life but make other people feel like they were running from a monster. Running away from me and all my shittiness like I had done for so long.”

“So pretty much, I guess I survive now ‘cause I want to do better than that monster. And I want to get back so I can make things right.”

“You’ll get that chance, Billy. I promise. We’re getting out of here.” It’s not much compared to that massive emotional speech Billy had just given, but Steve doesn’t know what else to say, what else to believe in.

Billy only mutters, all his passion drained out and just sounding tired now, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I mean it. Because unlike before, we’re not alone. We aren’t fighting these monsters by ourselves the way you had to. There are so many people behind us, those kids and their families, your family, that are looking for us right now.”

Steve assures him, making himself feel better if he’s being honest, “They don’t care who hurt who in the past. Our friends are going to do what’s right no matter what and they’re going to save our sorry asses. I know it.”

But Billy just sounds broken, defeated. “Steve. It’s been days. Maybe even weeks, and nobody’s come for you.”

He’s speechless. There’s no way it’s been that long. Bracing himself, he tries, “Well it was months before I found you. I never gave up on you.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“So say it.” Billy demands, and Steve does with equal intensity, “Because I love you.”

“Right. Do you think anyone up there feels that way about either of us?” He hadn’t been expecting him to weaponize that. Steve bites his tongue as Billy rants, “I shot down any chance of Max feeling that way a long time ago. Wheeler definitely doesn’t love your bullshit anymore. Our parents hate us. Half of those kids are strangers, and the other half just think you’re their expendable babysitter to send away on suicide missions to fix their problems.

“They don’t care, Steve. Not the way you do. With your stupid stubbornness and your stupidly big heart. They’re not coming for us now.” This isn’t something that’s coming out of nowhere. It’s obvious Billy has put a lot of thought into this, probably long before Steve found his way down here.

At least Steve knows where they stand relationship wise now. It’s not much of a silver lining.

Matching in his desperation and fear, Steve asks, “What do you mean?”

“You said it yourself earlier, babe. I think we’re alone now.”

A beat. Steve makes up his mind, “That’s not going to stop me.”

“Who said it should?”

“Alright, then. What’s next?”

The fight still seems to have drained out of Billy entirely. He shrugs, “You tell me. You’ve done this before.”

“We follow those things and see where they’re hunting. We’ll probably find another portal there if we’re fast enough.” Steve details. That’s how they found the portal on the other side, anyways. It’s the only theory they’ve got.

Billy buys it, seeming slightly less defeated to see that Steve actually might know a little bit what he’s doing, “If you’re sure, then lead the way.”

A hot spot for monster activity is usually near flat ground. Clearings and fields and places where the dead grass is tall enough they wouldn’t dare go near it unprotected.

Their hideout is on top of a hill for a reason.

Gathering all they need, weapons and such, they set out, waiting at the bottom behind trees and vines for a monster to step out. They’re hard to find down here, that bluish tint making everything look the same. It’s easier to listen. Rustling steps ahead, accompanied with growls and chitters, tell them they’ve got what they need.

Billy leads, peering around to check that the demodog is indeed walking away from them, and signaling for Steve to follow.

It leads them unknowingly for a good several miles until they lose track of it in a separate clearing. Exposed like this, they’re on high alert now, Steve’s got enough adrenaline pumping in his system now he can barely feel the bites. That’s for the best, he thinks. To be afraid of anything.

Up ahead, there’s a faint reddish glow emanating from exactly what they’re looking for, a hole large enough to fit them both through at once in the wall of what looks like the remnants of an old barn. A portal. Intimidating as the sight is, Steve is relieved, “There it is.”

Billy is too, as he jokes, “Are those things always that gross looking?”

“Who cares? Let’s just get out of here.”

Steve steps forward towards it, but is quickly caught by Billy, a strong hand on his shoulder freezing him to the spot.

Billy holds up a hand, a sign to stop and listen, “Wait..”

As expected, Steve hears it before he sees it, a demodog lurking just beyond the edge of the clearing where the old barn is. It chirps, calling for backup. Eventually Steve’s eyes adjust, and from yards away he can see rows upon rows of hungry teeth.

They hardly have time to prepare after that initial moment, Billy having just enough to make sure there’s still bullets in his gun before it pounces with a sickening snarl.

There’s a half dozen of them, two smaller ones taken out instantly with blasts from the shotgun as they opened their mouths to bite. For someone who never held a gun before, Billy’s become a damn good shot.

Then the gun clicks. It’s empty. He hadn’t had time to reload it before, so he certainly doesn’t now.

But he doesn’t falter for even a second, when the next one comes he uses the butt of the gun in the same way Steve is using his bat, swinging it and sending the demodog skidding across the wooded ground.

He chases it and bashes its skull in. That makes another angry and it pounces at him, taking his gun between it’s jaws.

More dogs swarm them, and they get turned around then, separated when a bigger dog runs between them, rearing to tear apart whatever it can get its teeth into. Steve calls it out and bolts, finishing off the one that initially ran with him with a side swing of his bat. It stumbles, already bleeding, and doesn’t get back up.

Now the larger one is after him, because Billy must not have killed the one he was fighting yet. Steve wishes he could stop and find him, make sure he was holding up. Right now, he let that get in his head. He focuses, and waits for the dog to pounce to jam the bat in its jaws.

The nails stop it from splintering the wood with its teeth, and give him a way to shove it through the things skull. He hates that part, feeling it pierce flesh, feeling the fight fade from what’s left of the monster. Not out of sympathy for it, just because it feels gross, to take a life.

It sounds like the fight has died down. He looks around, counting the bodies and coming up with six. There’s no more left from this wave. He withdraws the bat from the corpse and kicks it just to make sure it's not going to get back up and bite him.

Out of breath and sweating from the fight, Steve checks in with Billy after he’s sure that last one is dead, “Looks like we’re alone again. You good?”

“Uh..” When he looks over, Billy is pulling his hand away from his side, uncovering their worst fear. There’s blood on his hand up to his elbow, soaking completely through his shirt, which has been partially torn away to reveal giant gash marks in his side. A missing chunk of flesh near his ribs. It looks like Steve’s injury, but much worse, which makes sense considering this one’s a dog bite, instead of from those mole rats on wings. Rationality doesn’t make it less terrifying.

“Billy!” Steve drops his bat completely and rushes over to him, using his hand to press Billy’s back against the wound, applying pressure despite the way it makes Billy wince. He walks him backwards like that for a few steps to sit down on an old turned up tree stump.

“You know how I said it was only a little bad before?” Billy snarks through gritted teeth, voice straining with tension.

“Don’t. You’re going to be fine. We just have to go through the..” Steve glances over his shoulder at first, referring to the portal they had found. The portal that he doesn’t see even a trace of. He knows they hadn’t gone that far in the midst of the battle. His heart drops, his spins around, cranes his neck, desperate to find it.

But it’s not there, “Where’s the portal? I saw it, where’d it go?”

“Looks like we missed our chance.” Billy grunts in pain, forcing himself to sit up straighter, a sorry mistake that has him doubling over, barely able to speak, “Listen, Stevie, I don’t think-“

“Shut up. You’re fine. You have to be. I can’t do this on my own.” Steve kneels down to his level, tending to him in the only way he knows how, shaking out of his jacket and bundling it up, pressing it into his side. It makes him sick how quickly Billy’s blood seeps through the fabric onto his hands. He keeps talking, to keep them both sane, “We might be alone, but we’re alone together. You’re all I have. You have to keep fighting, for us.”

“Don't be such a sap. Just, get me some alcohol or something and I’ll be right as rain.” Billy smiles weakly, half-heartedly, trying to be snarky like usual.

Another snarl interrupts the mood, telling them more of those monsters are coming to where they are, probably to finish the fight.

“And maybe get me out of here first.”

“Can you walk?” Helping him back up to his feet, Steve wraps one arm sturdily around Billy’s middle, letting him press the wound on his own, carrying all their discarded weapons under his arm. They’re vulnerable like this. Too vulnerable.

Billy knows it, because he insists, “I’m fine.”

“You just said-“ Steve starts, but Billy cuts him off, the urgency of there being more dogs nearby outweighing his caution over the injury. Which is fair, because if more came after them like this, they wouldn’t stand a chance this time.

“I’m fine. Let��s go.” His insistence weighs out, and Steve begrudgingly walks him back through the long expanse of woods they traveled through in the first place, all the way to their shelter that way.

By the time they make it there, Billy’s barely conscious. It makes it easier for Steve to tend to him when he’s fading in and out like that, too in shock to argue or fight, but it does nothing to soothe his worries.

It’s at least a few more hours of bandage changes and shots of vodka before Billy’s fully with him again. Steve has taken the time to clean up most of the blood off of them, if not just to make the target on their backs smaller. He also found the least decomposed pillows and blankets he could find in their hideout and made a comfortable little corner to prop Billy up. It’s not ideal, but he thinks it might be nice to regain awareness in a slightly better state than when he went out.

The first thing he says when Billy is fully conscious is, “Hey. We’ll get another chance.. It’s not over.”

“I know.” With assistance, Steve ready to help as soon as he sees him move even an inch, Billy sits up on his elbows, “It’s just.. hard to keep hoping for something that seems like it’s never going to happen.”

“We were so close. Don’t quit on me now.”

“I told you I’m not I just.. I need a break.”

A reference to their earlier conversation. It hurts, realizing how long ago that felt, when really it only took them less than a day to fail so miserably. Steve pretends it’s okay, “Is this the part where you tell me I was right?”

“Sure. You were right Steve, stopping isn’t what’s going to kill us.” A slow smile spreads over pale lips, making him look more like himself, and certainly sounding more like Billy as he says sarcastically, “Just the gradual buildup of this floaty shit in our lungs from not doing anything. When we suffocate in a few hours, well, at least we got to rest right?”

Steve loses what he’s saying about halfway through though, because another sound catches his attention. He can’t be sure what it is, but after what happened, he’s on high alert. He warns, “Be quiet.”

Billy scoffs, “Damn. Won’t even entertain a wounded man.”

Steve shakes his head, listening and finally understanding. It’s surface noises that are distracting him, the distant sound of people talking and car horns and dogs barking that carry over in the dead of the night, so he explains, “No I.. thought I heard something. Voices.”

Billy looks hesitant to remind him, “Hate to say it, Stevie, but..”

“I know, I know. We’re alone, whatever. But.. don’t you think it’s strange how if we’re quiet enough, we can hear things on the other side?”

“I try not to think about it. I thought we already established that nobody's coming to find us.”

“Because they don’t know we’re alive down here, but what if there was a way we could contact them?” Steve’s onto something with this. Another breakthrough idea like before with the portal. He just hopes this one works out better.

Billy is skeptical before he’s even heard the plan, “Don’t torture me.”

“I’m not. I’m serious. When Will was down here, he was able to talk to his mother through lights, like lamps and things.” Steve explains the foundations of his idea as it comes to him.

Still not convincing enough, Billy rambles critically, “So we possess the lights and suddenly our problems are magically fixed? The portal closed on us Steve. Even if we catch somebody’s attention, what if it’s the wrong person up there? Some government cronies who rescue us just to blow our brains out in the backroom of a lab.”

“Then we find the right person before we do it. We have to try.”

“If you knew this all along, why only bring it up now?”

Steve motions to himself and Billy, the state of their clothes, the nearly identical bloodied bandages around them. Things aren’t looking so good, and that's his answer, “You’re hurt now. I’m willing to risk being hunted by the men in black or whoever the fuck they are if it means we have a chance at getting you help.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll play along. What do we do?” Billy shifts forward in interest, wincing slightly. He’s really hurting now. Steve can tell. But Billy’s hiding it well, so he doesn’t bring it up. Not until they’re safe.

“We don’t really know what Will did, but I guess you have to just touch the lights. And be careful about it so somebody can see that it’s intentional.” It’s the oversimplified version, but it will do.

Simplified plans lead to simple observations. Billy points out, “There’s nobody around.”

“Not on this side. But up there, things are normal. Life goes on. Empty buildings are full of people and light. As long as it’s somebody who knows about this happening before, we’ve got a chance.”

“Where do we find this somebody?”

“I’m going to leave it up to you.” Steve’s tone is rich with honesty, knowing that this is a tender spot for Billy. He suggests, “I don’t know most of the kids too well except Henderson. He’s probably noticed I’ve gone missing so he might notice the lights too. But then there’s also..”

“Max.” Billy finishes for him, his expression too multifaceted for Steve to even begin to break it down. What he gets most is doubt, “She knows about this shit?”

“Well, she’s been down here, technically. The night we fought..”

Billy doesn’t want to acknowledge that, enough other hints to argue about, moving on almost immediately to, “The lights in that house are shitty anyways though. Doubt she’d even notice a little flickering since that’s what they do all the fucking time.” He’s trying to make excuses for the obvious concern they both have without saying them. What if they don’t notice or care that it’s them?

Steve offers a solution, “There was something else.”

“Go on.”

“The radio. Will was able to turn on a radio, and Eleven could hear him through radio static. Nobody without powers could hear us, but if we flicker the lights and play music, she’ll probably know something is going on.”

“Think it’s worth a shot then?” Billy sounds more optimistic and stronger too. Like the idea of still having hope to be saved is helping him to push through. Steve doesn’t want to think of what might happen to Billy if this doesn’t work.

He nods determinedly, “The best we have.”

———

By the time they make it to Billy’s house, Billy himself is worn down. He’s slow and he’s exhausted and he’s just all around depressed. A sweaty, bleeding mess, much like Steve himself. Not that they could blame it entirely on the injury. They’d avoided this side of town deliberately, the memories too torturous to the trapped psyche.

The best Steve can do is offer his support, holding Billy’s hand tightly as they walk along, partially to help him walk with his injury, but mostly for comfort.

Even with a lethargic second half, finding the house is easy. Just from a year of Billy living in Hawkins they both had every path to and from the house memorized. The hard part is just going in.

Steve asks, after they’ve been staring up at the crumbled form of the house that was never really a home, and definitely not a place where he felt safe, “You ready?”

Billy doesn’t say anything more as he steps forward and leads the way, needing Steve’s help up the front steps but after that navigating straight to his old room. It’s unrecognizable under the thick black cover of vines and decay, but Steve can tell Billy still gets emotional seeing it. He sniffs, wiping at his eyes discreetly before walking to one specific spot,

“Somewhere under here is my stereo. There’s a lamp on the bedside table.”

That means he’s ready. Steve lets go of his hand and lets Billy reach out to the tangled mass of his death that engulfs their chance at discovery. Just touching it, the room fills with this overwhelming, static-like feeling, and there’s a faint, muffled sound like music. It’s indiscernible what's playing, be it some local radio station or the last mixtape Billy left in the rack, but they can tell something is. A fact which is accentuated by the sound of a distant shout in the house.

It worked.

Someone in the real world, and they both have a guess as to who that is, wants the radio turned off. An unfortunate confirmation that they are heard.

“Quiet.” His adrenaline kicking through the roof again, Steve shushes Billy, convincing himself he can hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

“I wasn’t even sayin’ anything.” Billy argues, his voice whispery and sad. This is hard for him. Being hurt and having to ask for help, and just being able to communicate after so long trapped in this dimension.

“You are now. Hush.”

For a moment there is no more noise from above, the only sound the beating of their hearts in the tense moment and the faint radio static.

Anticlimactically, it just shuts off. And then there’s nothing.

Steve looks at Billy and he’s already looking back, they nod in mutual agreement to try again.

Billy taps it once more, and this time, they get a real response.

It’s thankfully Max that’s been tasked with shutting down their sound, as she mutters, barely audible through dimensional barriers, Come on, you stupid thing.”

She shuts the stereo off again, shaking it slightly. But hearing her voice only means they have to act more, before this incident is written off as an easy to fix technical problem and they lose their chance.

Billy turns it on and doesn’t take his hand off, with Max’s further attempts at silencing the stereo now unsuccessful.

She raises her voice slightly, without being able to see her, sounding on the verge of tears, “Even now you just have to annoy me... Why won’t you let me forget you?”

Steve keeps his head down. This moment feels too personal. Even though it’s his only sense of connection right now, he fights the urge to listen too. Those words were meant for Billy.

Only out of his peripheral does he see Billy, who’s taken Max’s words as his cue to up the game, reach across to the lamp he’d mentioned and putting his hand where the long shattered bulb would have been.

They hear Max sigh bitterly, “Great. Now I’m going crazy too. Is this..?”

Her disbelief makes Billy tense, almost panicked from not being able to get his point across easily, or any more clearly than this. Steve imagines that as he does so, the light dulls, because Max’s next response is even more doubtful.

“Of course it’s not.. I’m so stupid. And now I’m talking to myself. This is fine, everything’s fine.”

But it isn’t, and as Billy applies more intensity to the radio, the correlated volume going up on the other side, they hear the sound of hollow thuds against hard plastic, the unmistakable sound of Max smashing the radio against the desk in frustration, “Why won’t you turn off!”

Interrupting her meltdown, Billy goes back to the lamp, trying desperately to get her attention, to answer her question and say that it won’t turn off because there’s someone who needs her to hear them. Steve joins in, reaching up towards the half-exposed ceiling light, which he imagines is still perfect on the other side.

It seems to be enough. In a fascinated voice that is thick with tears, Max confirms what they needed to hear all along, “So this is real. This is really happening. Then that means… Billy?”

They both stop with the flickering, leaving the room in silence and dark until Billy, very purposefully, lights up that one bulb as intensely as he can manage. Whether it’s from the effort that takes or just from the situation, tears are tracking down Billy’s face now. He looks like he’s about to break completely.

“I knew it. I knew it!” The effort, the plan, the poorly thought out strategies, it’s all coming together for this moment. They hear Max raise her voice, as if to be better heard on their side of things, “Hey, um, I-I don’t know if you can hear me too good but, just stay wherever you are. I’m going to get us help.”

Billy nods, but realizes she can’t see him. A strange expression that Steve can’t read settles on his face, and he flickers the lamp, a confirmation that he heard her.

They can hear Max taking shaky deep breaths, sounding in shock, “You better still be here when I get back with backup. I need proof that I’m not nuts. Just.. I’ll talk to you again soon...”

“Please be real, please be real…” Bittersweet, the sound of her voice slowly fades to nothing as she leaves the room. Their presence is known now, but they’re technically back to square one, without anybody but themselves.

This time though, there’s hope in the solitude. There’s a future for them if they can just assemble enough help to make that reality.

Steve puts his arm around Billy, careful not to bump the massive injury in his torso. For the first time since he’s been down here, he smiles a genuine smile, “I don’t think we have to worry about being alone anymore.”

#HarringroveWeek #harringrove #billy x steve #billy & max #this is pretty much my ideal season 4 #canon? i don't know her #pretty loosely based on the song itself and more just on the concept of being alone #also #monster hunting boyfriends #heads up this one is pretty long after the read more #ej writer #story by ej!#my writing

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