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#IT'S MY FIRST COMIC Y'ALL MY FIRST CHILD

phoebepheebsphibs · 6 months

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Draxum's Nightmare: A Post-ROTTMNT Movie Comic, Part 8/9

Freshly baked comfort for the angst!

OH MY GOD HE IS SO PROUD OF HIS LIL BOY HE LOVES HIM SO MUCH

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Let the child get his naptime, Drax.

Y'all see what that kid did to the sapling???

Mikey is the Lorax, he speaks for the trees…

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stevie-petey · 5 months

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episode eight: the upside down

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends? “Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused. “Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!” “We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted. Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

summary: drinking game time ! take a shot every time jonathan tries ditching you or every time you almost die at the byers house, you find out that steve really is an athlete and tbh it's hot, but you know what's even hotter ? saving hawkins and reaching a tentative compromise with steve after he loans you $5 for snacks. after, jonathan makes a promise you really hope he can keep.

rating: general, cursing and slight scary violence

warnings: violence, use of fire and weapons, guns, use of fem!reader and use of y/n, slight mentions of blood and death

words: 13.7k

before you swing in: the final chapter ,,, my heart </3 please enjoy my child, i put so much into this chapter. action scenes scare me, they're hard and i'm weak, so i hope this lives up to everything you guys wanted n more ;) i cannot believe we're at the end (but i do have another chapter planned that's set in season 1, so shhhh). thank you so so so much for all your support. i never thought this silly lil fic would get that much attention, but i'm insanely flattered and grateful for each and every one of y'all. i'm so proud of what i've created and you guys are my beloveds ,,, anyways, enjoy !!!

You almost miss Jonathan and Nancy sneaking off.

You had been explaining a comic book that had been in your bag to El when you noticed a shift in your periphery. Turning your head, you see Jonathan stand, offer Nancy his hand to help her up, and then walk towards the main doors together.

What the fuck.

“They wouldn’t dare…” You excuse yourself and run out the gym and into the hallway to follow them, absolutely furious. You’re so sick of their bullshit, of Jonathan’s bullshit and putting Nancy first. This isn’t even a petty jealousy thing, this is about the years of friendship between the two of you that has just suddenly disappeared within a damn week all due to circumstances completely out of your control.

The slam of the main door is the only warning Jonathan gets before you’re yanking him by his coat and flinging him back, forcing him to look at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You’ve never, ever yelled at him like this before. Not even earlier this week when he’d given you that bullshit apology after screaming at you for being in his room, for saying the two of you weren’t family. You didn’t yell at him for hiding Nancy’s pictures from you, for going off without you to find the monster. Despite everything, you’ve never been this cruel to him, even if he may have deserved it at times.

Jonathan’s wide eyes stare down at your hand that’s still clutched around his coat, frightened. “Bug, we were just–”

“Just what? Sneaking off without me?”

“It’s not like that, Y/N.” Nancy now steps in, her hands held up as if you’re some rabid dog she wants to calm down. “We just figured we’d help Joyce and Hopper.”

“‘We’? Are you fucking kidding me? You two talked about this, had an entire conversation, and still somehow came to the conclusion that ditching me was a great fucking idea?” You scoff, deeply hurt by the fact that the two of them had an entire conversation without thinking to include you in it.

“Bug, can we talk about this one on one?” Jonathan asks, his voice lowered. You can see the genuine upset in his eyes and for a moment your grip on him lessens, but then you see Nancy behind him and your anger only returns.

“No, we can discuss this right here.”

He sighs and tries to grab the hand not clutching his coat, but you slap it away. “Bug–”

“You’ve lost that privilege.”

“Bug–I mean, Y/N,” His voice falters. “Look, my mom and Hopper are out there right now trying to find Will while that monster is still out. Nance and I… We want to finish what we started.”

“Without me?” You don’t mean for it to happen, but your voice catches at the end.

Jonathan’s gaze softens and this time he succeeds in grabbing your hand. You let go of him and allow him to pull you in, weak against him as always. “I’m doing this to protect them, to protect you, Y/N. I’m always trying to protect you. You know that, right?”

You used to think that you did, but now? You’re not so sure, and it terrifies you.

Nancy has stepped away from the conversation, now kicking at rocks while you’re with Jonathan, and you can’t help but think about how wrong all of this feels.

Throughout this entire week it’s felt like someone has given you a photo of Jonathan, smeared its lines and edges, removed his moles and his crooked smile and made it neater, altered so that if you squint you can see the boy you grew up with underneath it all… But it’s fuzzy, almost too unclear to really see.

Now he’s standing in front of you, his smile once more crooked and cunning and his moles faded underneath the moonlight and for a second you can see him. There he is, clear and untouched and him in a way that’s never quite been yours.

“I know,” you tell him. “But how many more times do you expect me to forgive you for lying and ditching me? If you want to protect me, you need to talk to me.”

Jonathan winces. “I know, I know it sounds stupid and I know I’ve fucked up more than enough this week, I just get caught up in wanting to make sure you’re safe. It’d kill me if I let anything happen to you… I just, I can’t lose you, bug.”

“So pushing me away is your grand plan of keeping me?”

“I’ve always been an idiot.” He manages a smile, and you can’t help but laugh.

“That’s true, but if you attempt to ditch me one more time I swear to god I’ll pour tar all over your car.”

The boy laughs and for a brief moment everything feels okay again, but it doesn’t last very long. “In our defense, we figured you’d be better off with the kids since you’re not really a fighter, ya know?”

You drop his hand. “Excuse me?”

Jonathan’s smile is gone. “What?”

“I’m not really a fighter? You’re kidding, right?”

“Hey, no I didn’t mean it like that–” Jonathan fumbles over his words, clearly taken aback by your sudden mood change.

You step away from him. “How many times did I defend you against Lonnie? Better yet, remind me how we became friends in the first place. Wasn’t it because I threw milk at a bunch of idiots bullying you? Huh?”

“Y/N–”

“God, I can’t believe I almost let you get away with it again! I mean, do you even hear the bullshit that comes out of your mouth?” You deepen your voice, now doing a poor impersonation of him. “‘Hey, bug! You know I love you, right? Cool! Now, I’m gonna go do fuck all and ignore you and ditch you and then somehow turn it into me being a good guy because duh! I can never do any wrong!’”

“Please, just–”

“Did I get it right? It was a pretty good impersonation in my opinion. I mean, I am the one who has had to deal with this shit all fucking week. I think I'm an expert on this topic now.”

Jonathan looks pained but you don’t fucking care anymore. You’ve reached your limit, you’re sick and tired of being treated like some delicate creature that’s incapable of taking care of itself. You literally slapped Tommy Hagan this afternoon in order to help Jonathan, yet here he is basically calling you weak.

And yet Nancy is the fighter. She’s the one who gets to go along on the adventure while you’re sidelined because for some damn reason you’re always the second option. Never taking matters into your own hands, always the one left behind to clean up the mess and take care of those also discarded.

You’re sick of it.

You step closer to Jonathan again, so that you’re nose to nose, and whisper, “I’m tired of never being good enough.”

And with that, you reach into his coat and snatch up his keys, a game you’ve always played with him but now has turned into a bitter taste in your mouth, and run back into the gym. Someone has to inform the kids of the plan, make sure they’ll be okay on their own.

Dustin sees you approach and smiles, but when he notices the angry pace in your steps, he frowns. “Uh oh.”

“Yeah, uh oh.”

“Jonathan again?”

You nod, still too angry to trust your words. “Yeah.”

He notices the keys in your hand. “Where are you going?”

Mike and Lucas look over now, curious as to what’s happening.

You sigh. “I’m going with Nancy and Jonathan to the Byers house, we’re going to kill the monster.”

“Why the hell are you going?” Dustin exclaims while Mike shoutes “sick!” and Lucas mumbles “great, alone again”. El remains quiet, still resting.

You flick your brother’s hat. “I have to, Dustin.”

“For Jonathan?” He shakes his head. “I like him, but aren’t you mad at him right now?”

“Is it just me, or is she always mad at him these days?” Mike whispers over to Lucas, who simply shrugs.

“Girls, man.”

You ignore them and focus on Dustin. “It doesn’t matter. He needs my help, and no one in the party gets left behind. Remember?”

“Y/N–”

“I love you,” you kiss the top of his head. “I promise I’ll be safe, just be careful, okay? I’m putting you in charge, so don’t let me down. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll see you in a few hours tops!”

Dustin tries to argue some more, but you quickly run back outside before he can get another word in. You feel horrible leaving him behind, but you know this is the right decision. If you can kill the monster, there’s less of a chance of the kids or Joyce and Hopper getting hurt. Jonathan and Nancy may be fine on their own, but there’s always power in numbers and they’ll need all the help they can get.

You just… you have to help. You know this is what you’re supposed to be doing, even if it pains you to do so. Dustin and the kids are smart; as long as they stay at the school, they’ll be fine.

In theory, that is.

Nancy and Jonathan are waiting for you outside. You push past them and march towards Jonathan’s care; they awkwardly follow after you. You unlock it, throw yourself into the backseat, and promptly dig through your backpack to make sure you have everything.

The two teens get in a few minutes after you. Not one word is spoken as Jonathan starts the car and the three of you drive off, leaving Hawkins Middle behind.

–

You thought the car ride with Nancy and Jonathan from the funeral home had been tense, but this one? Downright painful.

Jonathan has a tight grip on the steering wheel and keeps trying to catch your eye through the rearview mirror but you avoid his gaze. You’ve spent the last five minutes arranging and rearranging your backpack to give you something to do while Nancy has tried three times to make conversation to make this car ride bearable.

“El seems nice.”

“You said four words to her, Nancy.” You retort, switching open your switchblade once more to watch the moonlight dance off of its blades.

“Right.”

Nancy shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat. You know she realizes she’s once again upset the balance in your relationship with Jonathan. It was only an hour ago that she tried getting you to admit your feelings for him before convincing the boy to up and leave you. Sure, Jonathan made his own decision in the end, but damn. She could’ve at least pretended to want you around.

She notices your knives and tries to spark conversation again. “I love the color of the handle, it’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you switch the blades closed and sit up in your seat. “Anyways, you geniuses have a plan or were you just counting on ditching me and winging it from there?”

“Y/N–”

“No, Nancy. I insist, let’s talk about a plan. We’re here to kill a monster, right?”

She closes her mouth and frowns, turning to Jonathan for help, but he’s no use. He’s busy tapping his fingers against the wheel and praying that the world will just swallow him up whole. Too bad for him you’re a stubborn pain in the ass and would simply pluck him back up so you can torture him some more.

Nancy sighs. “Well, Jonathan and I were thinking we use the supplies we got earlier and lure the monster to his place, then we kill it.”

“Awesome plan, guys!” You say, your voice dripping with sickly sweetness that leaves them both feeling even more uncomfortable. “But may I suggest some actual details or shall we just bank off of this wonderfully dull and vague plan?”

“Sure, Y/N. Tell us what you had in mind.” Nancy rubs her face tiredly, knowing she deserves this.

“Great! I’m assuming we’re luring the monster with blood?” They nod at you, so you continue. “Okay, so before we lure it I think we should completely booby-trap Jonathan’s house. Nail the bear trap down onto the floor, make sure the floor is cleared of anything that could trip us up. Then, once we’ve got the house secured, we knick ourselves to draw some blood and pray to whatever god is up there that we can kill the thing.”

You pause for a moment, remembering how all the Christmas lights had been unscrewed by Joyce earlier. “The lights, we need to fix them. The monster communicates through the lights so if we have them, then we can track it.”

“That all sounds great, bug.” Jonathan finally speaks up, ass kissing.

“Thanks, pal. Still don’t have the bug privilege back, but I’m sure you simply forgot.”

He gulps, once more going back to being silent as he drives you and Nancy to his house.

Nancy again tries to diffuse the tension. “How do we even kill the monster though? I mean, will my bullets be enough?”

“I have this idea, but it’s… well, it’s out there.” You bite your lip, now feeling your cocky demeanor slipping. “If we can safely set fire to it, I think that’s our best bet.”

“Fire?” Jonathan exclaims, but Nancy shushes him.

“I think you’re right.”

“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me but do we really have to set fire to my house–”

Now it’s your turn to shush Jonathan. “This isn’t about that. I wouldn’t burn your house down, I already told you I’d just pour tar on your car whenever I get the chance. For now, I really do think the best thing to do is burn the monster alive. In every horror movie and book, fire always gets the job done.”

Despite herself, Nancy lets out a soft chuckle as Jonathan parks the car, now at his house. “She’s right, Jonathan. And who burns down houses these days? Tar really is the best form of revenge.”

“I’m flattered, Wheeler. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be off my shitlist in no time.” You tell her, patting her on the shoulder before getting out of the car. You quickly open up the trunk and gather the monster hunting supplies while Jonathan and Nancy take their time getting out.

You let yourself into the Byers home using your own key to the place. It’s been nestled in between the key to your house and the spare key to Jonathan’s car on your keychain for a few years now.

The first thing you get started on are the lights. There’s hundreds of them to get through, but you drop your supplies and begin screwing them in one by one. Nancy and Jonathan come in soon after and silently begin to help.

No conversation is made besides the necessary comments about the prep work. You’re all too focused on the possibility of what could happen next; the danger of the situation has finally set in. After the lights have all been fixed, you instruct Jonathan to begin nailing the bear trap down while you and Nancy discuss where to pour the gasoline. You both agree to make a path from the living room to Will’s room.

As Nancy pours the gasoline, you follow behind her and pick up any flammables. You weren't lying to Jonathan earlier, you really don’t want to burn his house down. While the house is wrecked, it’s still a home despite everything that’s happened in it. You practically grew up within its walls, you’d do anything to keep it as protected as possible.

When you’re done, you watch Nancy load her gun. A shiver runs down our spine; she looks at ease with it, which you figure should be reassuring, but the gravity of everything leaves you feeling on edge. You leave her alone and walk into the kitchen where Jonathan is, now hammering a ton of nails into his bat.

You begin to sharpen your blades next to him, still finding that you only feel secure by his side. The rhythmic sound of his hammering calms you, in a sense. It serves as a distraction. You know you insisted on coming, you don’t regret it and you know you’re stronger than everyone seems to give you credit for, but you’re also terrified. This isn’t just some adventure in the woods; this could kill the ones you love dearly.

Once you’re both done preparing your weapons, the two of you walk to Will’s room and rig up a simple snare. Jonathan grabs a yo-yo and you pull up a chair to set it on. The idea is that when the string gets pulled, it’ll alert you that the monster has sprung the bear trap. It’s not the most efficient warning system, but it’ll have to do.

The last thing to do is set the bear trap, which takes all three of you to achieve. Jonathan and Nancy hold down the edges with their body weight and you very carefully set the trap with your hand. You shake a bit as you do so, but you force your nerves down. You remind yourself that Jonathan thinks you’re too weak, too cowardly, you have to prove him wrong.

When the bear trap clicks into place, you let out a harsh exhale and sink against the wall, your heart still pounding. Jonathan and Nancy copy you and the three of you sit in silence. You’re still shaking a bit, and Jonathan is next to you just as tense, but for the first time since you’ve met him you can’t reach out to grab his hand to steady yourself. He’s too far, both literally and figuratively. Even with him next to you, you couldn’t be more far apart.

In the back of your mind, you hope the kids are alright. Hopefully they’re having a better night than you currently are.

“C’mon,” you say after a few minutes, getting up to walk over to the living room. “We’ve done all we can, now we just have to draw some blood and be the prettiest bait in Hawkins.”

–

Nancy and Jonathan decide to cut the palm of their hands, but you respectfully would rather die than have a matching scar with them. The idea makes you so uncomfortable you visibly cringe when Jonathan tells you the idea. “Yeah, no thanks. I think I’ll find somewhere else to cut.”

He looks hurt by what you’ve said but doesn’t voice it. Instead, the three of you stand in the living room in a triangle facing each other and he begins reciting the plan. “Remember…”

Nancy goes first. “Straight into Will’s room and–”

“Don’t step on the trap.” You finish.

Jonathan nods. “And then?”

“Wait for the yo-yo to move.” The girl says.

“Then…” Jonathan flicks the lighter on.

You whistle low. “Let there be light…”

“Right. Light.” The boy nods again. “Alright, we ready?”

“Ready.”

“Scar time.”

Jonathan and Nancy bring their hands up and place their knives flat against their palms. You roll up your sleeve and place your own knife against the upper part of your arm, just below your shoulder, and take a deep breath.

“On three,” Jonathan says. He begins counting and you all can’t seem to stop shaking. He senses your unease and looks up at you and Nancy. “You guys don’t have to do this.”

Nancy glares at him, her own voice shaky. “Jonathan, stop talking.”

You nod. “Yeah, what she said.”

Jonathan tries to argue, but Nancy squeezes her eyes shut and yells, “Three!”

You close your own eyes and slice at your arm, the pain immediate. You gasp out, never having been good with pain, but you know you have to do this for Will. The blood trails down your arm, dripping from your elbow onto the ground, and you watch as blood from Jonathan’s and Nancy’s own cuts falls onto the ground too.

Well, at least it’ll be an easy scar to hide compared to theirs.

“Fuck, that stings.” You say to break the silence, and Nancy nods her head in agreement.

“Not the most pleasant feeling.”

Jonathan guides the two of you over to the couch and grabs the first aid kit that you had prepared on the coffee table. He sits in the middle, leaving room for both you and Nancy on each side of him, but you’re still pissed at him and opt to sit on the floor in front of the couch.

Nancy begins to patch up his wound, and it takes everything within you not to reach over and help him yourself. It feels unnatural to watch someone else taking care of him, but the space between you still feels too vast to cross.

You patch up your own cut while the two of them talk quietly. You wind a bandage tight around your arm, ensuring you won’t bleed through, and Jonathan watches above you with guilt in his eyes. Nancy is trying to reassure him that everything will be okay, but as he watches you struggle to tie the bandage he wonders if he’s fucked up more than just your friendship.

“Bug, let me help with that.” He leans down and ties your bandage before you can stop him.

You glare at him, still having not said anything to Jonathan besides what was needed for preparation. Nancy distracts herself by cleaning up around his cut and your stomach twists into knots. This is all so miserable.

“Y/N, I know you’re upset with me and you can go whenever. I won’t blame you, you’ve done enough for me.” Jonathan says, trying to catch your eye.

You turn away and inspect your bandage, still reeling over the fact that he tied it for you. “I’m here for Will, and only Will.”

“Y/N…” There’s a hurt in his voice that almost makes you turn around to throw your arms around his neck and whisper a million apologies to him. To tell him everything, that you love him and that you’d do anything for him and that’s why you’re so terrified of how you feel. You know you’d burn yourself up if it meant he’d be taken care of, if it meant he was safe and happy and far away from anything that could harm him. You know you’d use up everything within you to love him.

Instead, you remain silent.

After getting no response from you, Jonathan clears his throat and begins to say something about how the lights will serve as an alarm for the monster, trying to pretend that everything is okay, but he’s cut off by a sudden pounding on the door.

You all jump and your fingers tighten around your switchblade, ready to open it. As your heart pounds you think of all the possible ways the plan could go wrong. When you’re on possibility number twelve, a voice calls through the door.

“Jonathan?”

“Is that… Steve?” You say out loud, in complete disbelief.

Steve continues to pound on the door. “Are you there, man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk!”

You’re the first to react, standing up to run over to the door. You fling it open and step outside, making sure Steve won’t be able to see inside the house. When he sees you, he stumbles back a bit. “Henderson?”

His face is still bleeding from earlier and his hair is a mess, and yet there’s a softness to him that you haven’t seen before with him. “Steve, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Can I just talk to Jonathan real quick? I just… I want to apologize about what happened earlier, see if we can maybe–” His eyes land on your bandaged arm. You curse and roll down your sleeve, feeling like an idiot for forgetting to hide the wound before going outside.

Steve reaches out to touch it, a hint of worry on his face and his voice is now full of concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

You shiver at his touch, it’s gentle as he skims along the bandage and inspects it for any other problems. You pull away, now hiding the wound. “It’s nothing, but you should really go.”

“I want to help you, Y/N. Do you need me to get you anything?” His face is so full of worry for you that it makes you ache. Then a thought occurs to him. “Wait, where’s Byers? Why isn’t he here to help you?”

You’re about to make up a lie, but Nancy flings the door open. “Steve, listen to me.”

He looks between the two of you in complete shock. “Okay, what–”

“You need to leave.” Nancy orders.

Steve looks at you. “I’m not trying to start anything, okay?”

“I know, but–” You get cut off by Nancy.

“I don’t care about that. You need to leave.”

Steve begins to plead with the girl and you step away a bit, not wanting to intrude. You feel bad for him, he looks so beat down by what’s happened today and you suppose that you can’t really blame him. After spending maybe a total of ten hours with Nancy and Jonathan, you also have come close to losing your mind.

If you were with Jonathan, if you truly had him, you’d react the same as Steve. Begging for the girl he loves to listen to him, to give him another chance with the promise of him changing.

“I just want to make things right.” Steve says, impressing you with his vulnerability. He’s openly admitting to his mistakes and taking accountability mere hours after the situation has occurred, leaving you both in awe of him and also saddened for him. He loves Nancy more than anything, you can hear it in his voice.

He deserves better.

As you’re thinking this, you see his eyes flicker down towards Nancy’s bandaged hand and his brows furrow. “What happened to your hand? Is that blood?” His eyes now flicker over to you again. “Why are you both hurt?”

“We’re clumsy?” You say as Nancy yanks her hand away from Steve.

“It was an accident.” She agrees.

Steve looks between the two of you, now sensing that something else is wrong. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Nancy insists, but something in Steve’s demeanor shifts.

“Wait a second, did he do this to you? To Y/N?” His once soft voice is now filled with anger and you step in front of him.

“Steve, it wasn’t Jonathan. You need to go, I promise I’ll explain everything later–”

He grabs you by your side and gently moves you so that he can get past and shove through the door. Nancy yells at him to stop and tries to push him out, but she’s useless against his strength. When he manages to break in, he stumbles inside and scans over the house.

“Shit!” You follow after him, your brain running a million miles a second trying to figure out how to explain everything to him.

“What the fuck?” Steve mumbles, eyeing the bat with nails in it. “Y/N, what’s going on here?”

He’s looking to you for reassurance and you guess he assumes that the two of you are allies in this Jonathan and Nancy situation. You really wish you could explain, but Jonathan has grabbed him by the shoulders and is trying to push him outside. The two stumble around for a few seconds and you just helplessly watch.

“Steve, there’s no time to explain, please just listen to Jonathan and get out of here!” You’re helping Jonathan now, trying to get Steve out the door and away from harm’s reach, but he’s still fighting back confused and lost as ever and you pity him.

You hear a click and turn around, gasping when you see Nancy holding her gun up to Steve. “Woah, what the fuck Nancy?”

“What! What is going on?” Steve yells, now more panicked than anything else.

While Jonathan has stepped away, you find yourself standing in front of Steve as if to somehow block the bullet. You can’t let him get hurt, he doesn’t have any part of this, he can still have a normal and happy life if he just leaves now. “Nancy, put the fucking gun down, this isn’t helping!”

Steve pleads with her as well and the two of you scream at the girl to just listen and not swing around loaded weapons, but Nancy remains firm in her stance. “You have five seconds to get out of here. I’m doing this for you.”

“Because holding a gun to his head is any better than telling him the truth?” You exclaim, entirely over the situation.

As the four of you are arguing, the lights begin to flicker. Steve and Nancy don’t seem to notice, but you do. You look at Jonathan and say your first real words to him in hours. “Jonathan…”

He hears you and he runs over to your side, grabbing your hand as the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder. You feel your heartbeat race and you can feel him shaking beside you. He’s terrified, so are you, but his hand around yours manages to steady you.

“Nancy!” Jonathan tries to get the girl’s attention, but she’s too busy counting down to hear him.

He shouts at her again and the lights start to flicker more wildly and you draw your switchblade out, adrenaline coursing through you. It’s time.

Jonathan yells once more and finally catches Nancy’s attention. “The lights!”

She whips her head around and curses, Jonathan, still tightly holding your hand, tugs you along so that you follow him as he secures his weapons and grabs the bat. “It’s here.”

“What’s here?” Steve is flailing around, utterly lost.

You all ignore him and now stand back to back in a triangle. Nancy holds up her gun, Jonathan wields his bat, and you flick your wrist to bring out your knives. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know!”

The lights flicker rapidly and you feel overwhelmed. They were supposed to serve as a guide towards the monster, but there's no possible way to see which direction it’ll come from and for a fleeting moment you think you’ve made a huge mistake.

Steve is still screaming, demanding answers, but you’re too busy scanning your surroundings to offer him some information. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going–”

The roof opens up, cutting Steve off, and you scream as the monster attempts to come down right above you. Jonathan shields you from the fallen debris and you cling onto him in utter fear. This isn’t real. This cannot be happening.

Nancy begins to shoot at the thing while Jonathan guides you to safety. He brings you to the edge of the living room and holds your face in his hands, forcing you to really look at him for the first time all night. “Listen to me, stay here while I get Nancy.”

He kisses your forehead and then leaves, rushing over to Nancy to pull her away and guide her towards Will’s room. Steve stands next to you, frozen, and it forces you back to reality. The plan, you have to stick to the plan.

You grab Steve’s hand and yank him so that he follows. The monster has dropped down now, a horrible creature on all fours that opens its gaping mouth to let out a horrible screech that you feel deep within your bones. This is what killed Barb.

The four of you run to Will’s room and you only just barely have enough time to warn Steve about the bear trap. You look over your shoulder and shout, “Jump!” right as your ankle catches on its chains.

You fall. Hard.

Pain sears through your ankle and you try to get up, but any pressure on it sends flames through your entire body and you let out another scream. The monster catches up, looming over you, and you brace for your death. There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of this.

You squeeze your eyes as the monster stalks close to you, its ugly mouth open and ready to kill you. Jonathan is screaming at you to get up, but Nancy is holding him back from helping. You’re relieved by this, knowing that someone has to be there for Will once this is all done. He’ll need his brother, and Nancy seems to understand this. You catch her eye and nod at her, sending a silent thank you.

“Bug! No, let go of me! I have to help her, Nancy!” Jonathan’s voice becomes hoarse by how loud he screams, his voice breaking with fear and desperation.

Then, right before the monster lunges at you, you feel a familiar pair of arms slide underneath your legs and pick you up. “What–”

Steve Harrington has swooped in to save you, picking you up as if you weigh nothing, ever the athlete, and swiftly jumps over the bear trap while screaming his head off. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

You’re so delirious from the pain in your ankle and the adrenaline pumping through your veins that you can’t help but let a laugh escape you. No fucking way is any of this real. Steve Harrington is carrying you bridal style into Will’s bedroom with Jonathan and Nancy as witnesses.

What a life.

Once you’re both secured in the room, Steve sets you down gently right as Nancy yells at him to shut up. As soon as Steve lets go of you, Jonathan is at your side and pulls you into a crushing hug.

“Bug.” He breathes out against your ear, relief heavy.

“I’m okay.” You tell him, threading your fingers through his hair. He’s shaking harder than ever, and holding onto you as if he’s scared he’ll lose you again. “I’m okay, bee.”

He pulls away and his hands are all over you, checking everywhere for any other injuries. “Did it hurt you, are you bleeding? There should be a first aid kit–”

You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, which seems to calm him down a bit. “I’m fine, just twisted my ankle. If you help me up, I’m sure I’ll be able to stand again.”

Jonathan quickly helps you to your feet and you lean against him for the extra support. While you put on a brave face for Jonathan, you’re terrified out of your fucking mind. You almost died. Jonathan is still holding your hand and he’s looking at you as if seeing you for the first time and you force yourself to look away. It’s the same look from the field days ago, when you thought he’d kiss you.

You have to focus on what’s at stake.

How the hell are you guys supposed to kill this thing?

The monster screeches, breaking the moment between you and Jonathan, and he flicks his lighter on and forces you to stand behind him. Nancy holds up her gun and you bring your knives closer to your face, Steve standing weaponless behind you.

You all wait, tense, for the monster. It stalks closer to the room, its awful growls alerting you of its proximity, but it doesn’t appear.

“What’s it doing?” Nancy asks, frustrated.

“I don’t know.” You respond, equally as frustrated and scared.

Another few agonizing seconds pass, and you stare at the yo-yo and hope that it remains still. Then, the lights stop flickering and it becomes quiet. All you can hear is your blood roaring in your ears.

Nancy looks around. “Do you hear anything?”

“No,” Jonathan shakes his head, inching closer to the door.

“Wait!” You tug at your still interlocked hands. You pick up his bat that had been thrown on the ground and hand it to him. “Be careful. Please.”

He gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go, accepting the bat.

As Jonathan pokes his head out to see if the monster is outside, Steve bends his head down and whispers in your ear, “Romantic.”

“Shut. Up.” You hit him in the chest, fearfully watching your best friend to make sure he doesn't die. When he motions an all clear, Nancy follows him outside, then you, then Steve.

The house is silent and your heart sinks when you see that the bear trap has been left untouched. You realize with a horrible gut wrench that the monster is smarter than the three of you had anticipated.

So much for your plan, then.

“It’s smarter than we thought.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees with dismay.

He stalks against the wall towards the living room and you all follow in a single file line. You do your best to stick close to the wall but you limp with every step. Your ankle is definitely out of commission for now. Great.

All of you are on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It couldn’t have been that easy, there’s no possible way that the monster simply up and left. You enter the living room, which has gotten even more wrecked due the monster. The wallpaper has been torn off of some parts of the wall and you see papers scattered everywhere.

“Shit…” you mumble, kicking at a shredded wallpaper strip.

In the corner, Steve has started to hyperventilate and mumble to himself. “This is crazy, this is so crazy, this is fucking crazy.”

You limp over to him and grab his shoulders, making him face you. “Steve, hey. It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Y/N, what the hell just happened?”

“It’s… complicated. For now, can you trust me that everything will be okay?”

“Of course I trust you, it’s just…” He nods, his eyes softening. You lessen your hold on him and give him a smile, he seems to be calming down. Then, he looks around the room and seemingly remembers where he is. “This is crazy!”

Steve lunges for the phone on the wall and tries to call for help.

You stumble after him, the pain in your ankle slowing you down. “Steve, wait–”

Nancy gets to him first, grabbing the phone out of his hand and throwing it across the room. He looks at her, shocked. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“It’s going to come back!” Nancy yells at him, and you wince at the way she treats him. You know Steve will only listen to her, but she could at least be nicer about the whole situation. The three of you have had some time to process everything happening, Steve was thrown into the deep end.

“You could be a little nicer,” you mumble, and Nancy sends you a glare. You raise your hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

“Steve, you need to leave. Right now.”

He looks so overwhelmed and you give him a pitying look. He stares at you, reminiscent of the way he looked at you earlier in the alley, silently begging you to say something, anything, but again you can only shake your head at him. You won’t force him to stay, it wouldn’t be fair.

“Y/N, please…” He tries one more time to get you on his side, but you can’t. Frustrated by your lack of response, Steve groans. “Fuck it!”

He runs out the door.

You’ll admit that you’re a bit disappointed, but you also understand. Who in their right mind would stay?

You and Nancy share a look before the lights begin to flicker again. Dread fills you. “Fuck…”

Jonathan is back by your side and he and Nancy again form a triangle with you, all your backs pressed together as you desperately try to locate the monster. You all stumble in a circle, searching for any sign of the thing, but there’s nothing.

“Where is it?” Nancy gasps out.

“Just fucking show yourself!” You shout, just wanting this all to be over with. Your body is drained from living in a state of fear for so long.

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Jonathan echoes your taunts.

Suddenly the lights turn off and you’re left alone in complete darkness. Faintly you can hear the monster’s familiar growl approaching from behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, the air stands still. It’s back. Before you can react, it pounces on Jonathan.

“Jonathan!” You scream alongside Nancy. Desperation takes over you and before you can even process what’s happening, you ignore the pain in your ankle and jump onto its back, stabbing repeatedly at it.

Your blades only bounce off of its thick skin and the monster struggles to get you off. You hold on as tight as you can, shouting and kicking at it so that it can’t hurt him, but then it opens its mouth and for a horrifying moment you’re afraid that Jonathan will die.

“No!” You scream even louder than before and double down on your effort, stabbing and slashing as much as you possibly can to try and create some damage, but your arms are starting to ache and your ankle now feels like it’s on fire.

“Nancy, its skin is too thick!” You sob out, nearing complete exhaustion. Then, just as you’re about to collapse from exhaustion, gunshots fill the room.

Nancy begins to shoot at the monster and with the help of your blades, the two of you manage to pierce its skin, but even then the damage is minimal. It’s not enough, it won’t be enough. Tears stream down your face and the monster only gets closer to Jonathan, so you do the only thing you can think of: you crawl onto the top of its body and stab at its mouth.

The monster lets out a blood curdling scream and flings you off of its back. You go flying across the room and land against the wall with a groan. All the air has been knocked out of you and your ribs are definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. Every part of you aches, but you manage to lift your head up and blearily process the monster now approaching Nancy as she continues to shoot at it, but it remains unphased.

You crawl over to Jonathan, who is still laying on the ground. He’s motionless, and you fight everything within you not to break down and sob. You have to keep going, he has to be alive. As you reach Jonathan and frantically check for a pulse, the monster has now cornered Nancy and her gun seems to be out of bullets.

It’s over. You know it is.

Right as you’ve accepted your fate, a screaming Steve Harrington wielding Jonathan’s bat once again manages to save the day.

He hits the monster with the bat, effectively saving Nancy and you’re so impressed with his batting skills that you almost find him attractive with how easily he hits and dodges the monster. However, you file those thoughts away for later and finally manage to wake Jonathan up. He startles with a gasp and you check over his chest, scared he may have gotten pierced by the monster’s claws.

“I’m fine, we need to help.”

You help each other up and you have to lean heavily against him due to your ankle. You bull riding the monster has only made the sprain worse; you’re too afraid to look down and see the damage that’s been done.

As the two of you hobble over to Nancy, Jonathan looks at you. “Is Harrington really here right now?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.”

Steve manages to lure the monster closer and closer to the bear trap and you watch him in awe. He’s quick footed and so sure of himself, the complete opposite of the boy from only ten minutes ago who had run out of the house screaming his head off. Now, Steve is swift with his hits and even twirls the bat in his hand to show off. The small act causes you to smile despite the horrible circumstances.

By the time you and Jonathan are up and recovered, Steve has successfully led the monster straight into the trap. It clamps around the monster’s foot and it screeches, flailing around in the trap. Steve still has his bat held up, now frantically looking over to everyone else. “He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!”

“Jonathan, now!” Nancy screams, motioning over at him to use his lighter.

Jonathan listens, using his free hand to flick the lighter on and then drops it onto the ground, right into the trail of gasoline. Immediately the monster goes up in flames, letting out horrible noises. You all shield your faces from the flames and Jonathan pulls you closer into him, still having yet to let go of you; you feel yourself sink into his side as you watch the monster wither away.

“Bug, I have to get the fire extinguisher, do you think you can stand on your own?” Jonathan asks you, his voice soft but urgent.

You quickly nod and brace yourself for his departure. “Yeah, go.”

He lets go of you as gently as possible before running to grab the extinguisher. When he has it, he orders everyone to get back and then smothers the flames. It takes a couple seconds, but eventually the fire gets put out, leaving behind an awful stench that makes everyone cough and gag.

“Holy fuck,” you wheeze out, hunched over. “Burnt monster smells horrible.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve coughs out.

Nancy covers her face with her jacket. “Where did it go?”

“It has to be dead.” Jonathan pants against the wall, looking like he’s three seconds away from passing out. “It has to be.”

“It fucking better be dead.” You mumble, hobbling closer to see what exactly was left behind. When you get closer and see the giant lump of melted skin all over the bear trap, you gag. “Oh god. Yeah, okay. It’s dead.”

Everyone sighs with relief.

Then, you notice a Christmas light above you flicker on. Your heart stops, terrified that the monster has somehow survived, but then a second one turns on, then a third, until a path seems to be guiding you towards the living room.

You all follow, cautious but curious, but these lights don’t feel threatening. There’s an energy to them, a comforting one that leaves you breathless. When you get to the living room, tears form in your eyes, now understanding what this all is. You look at Jonathan, who also seems to be thinking what you are.

It’s Joyce, you know it is.

“Mom,” he breathes out.

You limp over to him and grab his hand. He turns to you, his eyes shining with an appreciation that he only ever has for you. He seems to be drinking you in, as if now realizing just how close the two of you came to dying tonight. You’re doing the same, thankful that he’s alive and standing next to you despite everything. There’s so much the two of you want to say, but as always the words aren’t needed. You understand each other perfectly, the balance between you centered once more.

You put your head on Jonathan’s shoulder and he brings his hand to your hair to softly stroke it. The two of you stand like that for a second, breathing each other in and enjoying the tenderness after such a miserable day, before you slowly break apart and follow the lights going outside.

The porch light flickers and Nancy stands next to you, watching it with uncertainty. “Where’s it going?”

“I don’t think it’s the monster.” Jonathan tells her.

“It’s Will.” You don’t know how you know this, or what makes you feel so certain that you’re right, but somehow you know that you are. Somewhere deep within you, you feel the faint outline of hope flicker.

A new silence surrounds the four of you at your words, and for once there’s hope between you all. Then, after a minute or so of silence, everyone begins to head back inside. Steve first, then Nancy, and finally Jonathan, leaving you alone with the crisp early winter air.

You take a deep breath, the cold air serving as a reminder that you’re alive. You let it fill your lungs until you can’t breathe in anymore, then you release the air through an exhale and feel your body settle into its exhaustion. This is the first time you’ve had a moment to yourself, so you let the exhaustion weigh upon you like a warm blanket.

Will is safe, you can feel it. Despite everything, he’s safe and alive. Jonathan is too, still your best friend regardless of all the unspoken words between the two of you. Dustin is at the school with the kids, away from danger. Everything is okay, it’ll be okay.

You let the moment wash over you, incredibly grateful to be lucky enough to have survived it all. Everyone you love and hold close to you is safe. You didn’t fuck up this time. God, you did it.

Jonathan comes running out after a while, his face alight with joy and he crashes into you and picks you up to twirl you around. You laugh, loud and freely, and bury your face in his hair as he continues. “Bee, stop! Put me down, you dummy!”

He does as he’s told, but doesn’t let go of you once your feet are on the ground. “My mom just called, they saved Will. He–he’s in the hospital, he’s okay.”

You squeal and throw your arms around Jonathan again, squeezing him so hard that you’re afraid you'll hurt him, but he simply laughs and squeezes you just as tight. Tears come again, but this time they’re happy ones, and if it weren’t for your ankle you’d be jumping up and down right now.

Jonathan’s laughter dies down and he cups your chin around his fingers so that you look up at him. “You did it.”

“We did it, bug.” You softly push against him. You can’t take all the credit.

His eyes are shining again, you haven’t seen him this happy in so long, you get lost in it. His face is lit up and his smile is back and you’re so in love with him that it claws against your throat and threatens to spill out in excess.

A beat of silence passes and Jonathan just soaks your presence in. You can’t quite read his face, but for once this doesn’t frighten you. You enjoy it, you relish in the fact that he’s still yours yet now forming into someone new and lovely and wonderful.

“You never gave up.” He whispers at last, adoration in his voice.

“Never.”

“You never left me.”

“Never.” You breathe out, the word so simple with such heavy weight behind it.

The moment is so raw, so tender, and Jonathan is giving you that look again, the one that leaves you feeling like the sun itself has settled upon you and kissed your cheek. His eyes flick down to your lips and you smile, taunting him to lean in. He seems to understand, giving you his own teasing smile before leaning in. You lean in as well, every part of you buzzing, and right before your lips touch his, Steve bursts through the door.

“Jonathan, dude, do you have like, any food in the house?” He asks, completely oblivious to what he’s just interrupted.

You and Jonathan break apart, laughing the tension away. He ducks his head down, clears his throat, and turns to Steve. “Sorry, man. Been a little busy this week for grocery shopping.”

Steve’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Oh shit, right. Sorry, okay. Uh… Well, I’ll be inside, I guess.”

“We’ll be in shortly.” You tell Steve. You want to be frustrated by his timing, but something tells you that you’ll have all the time in the world to tell Jonathan how you feel. Now just isn’t the time.

–

The moment you arrive at the hospital, Jonathan sprints out of the car and straight towards the front desk to find out where Will is. You and Nancy follow behind, figuring you won’t be able to see Will for a while since you’re not blood related, so the two of you wish Jonathan goodbye and head towards the waiting room.

Steve lags behind, obviously unsure where to go. Nancy immediately walks inside, but you notice his hesitation and nudge his shoulder. “I’m sure that the cut on your eyebrow needs to be looked out. Let’s go sit, okay?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah, sure. Totally. Let’s go sit in a room full of people who probably hate me. No biggie.”

“Either come or don’t.” You shrug. “But the way I see it, you can start mending some metaphorical wounds while you wait in there.”

You don’t wait for Steve to figure out what to do, you know that Dustin is somewhere inside the waiting room and you’re buzzing to see him and the rest of the kids. You hobble inside, still very much in pain due to your injuries, but the moment you see your brother it all fades away.

He runs into your arms and almost knocks you down with the force. Dustin clings onto you, mumbling over and over again how sorry he is.

“Hey, wait a second,” you pull him away and crouch down, groaning a bit at the pain. “What are you sorry about? What happened?”

You look around the room and see everyone there. Nancy, Hopper, the kids, Steve, even Nancy’s parents, but there’s someone missing…

“El,” you breathe out.

Dustin’s lip trembles and he begins to cry. You soothe him, grabbing his hand to bring him over to the seats and sit between him and Mike. Lucas is to the left of Dustin and you can’t help but notice how all the boys have dried tears in their eyes.

When they’re ready, you have the kids explain what happened, and the more they tell you, the more guilty you feel. You should’ve been there for them, you left them all alone with that monster. You got Will back, and yet you’ve lost El as a result. It seems that no matter what you do, it’ll never quite be enough in the end.

“It’s not your fault.” You tell Dustin, who still keeps apologizing. It was you who had left him in charge, you’re why El ended up vanquished by the monster. “You did everything you could. I shouldn’t have left you guys all alone, but I’m proud that you all took care of one another, okay?”

He sniffs and nods his head, but you know he doesn’t believe you. All the boys are somber; you know it’ll take time for them to recover. So, you do what you do best, you console them. You hold their hands and rub their backs and offer your spare comics in your bag. You do whatever you can to comfort them, to reassure them that they’re safe now and that no one will hurt them, but the light in their eyes has dimmed.

They’ll never be the same again.

And El… she had been so young, you don’t think you’ll ever not feel the heavy weight of guilt whenever you think of her. She had been so sweet and had trusted you.

You should’ve been there, you wish you could’ve saved her.

Steve watches from his seat across from you. He listens in as you comfort the boys, taking care of them in such a natural way. He admires this softer side of you, one he hasn’t quite seen before. Sure, you’ve always been gentle and sincere, but watching you with the kids is something special in itself. You manage to get them to laugh, you offer them your shoulder to cry or sleep on, and you read aloud to them stories from your comics and Steve finds himself drawn towards your interactions with the kids.

It’s sweet, something delicate and lovely, and Steve admires everything that you are. When he sees you awkwardly stand up and stumble over to the vending machines in the hall, Steve finds himself following after you.

“Bitch!” You slam the palm of your hand against the vending machine in vain. The bag of chips hangs by the little spiral, taunting you.

“That’s not a very nice word, Henderson.”

You turn and see Steve, leaning against the wall with a fond expression. “You stalking me?”

“Nah, just wanted to watch you fight against a vending machine.”

“Ha,” you snort, turning back to the machine. “Unless you can help me get this last chip bag, you’re free to go sit back down.”

You mean it to be a joke, not expecting Steve to actually listen, but he’s at your side within a second. “Step back, let Steve handle her.”

“What–”

Steve motions for you to move, so you reluctantly do as you’re told. Once you’re out of the way, Steve claps his hands, stretches out his neck, and then begins to aggressively shake the vending machine.

“That is so not what you’re supposed to do–”

Suddenly the bag drops down from the hook and into the retrieval slot. Steve reaches inside, grabs the bag, and then dangles it in the air. “Tada!”

You laugh and grab the bag from him. “Okay, I’ll admit, that was impressive.”

“What can I say? I’m charming like that.”

“Sure,” you smile at him, neither of you have moved yet. He’s still standing in front of you with that cocky smile on his face that’s slowly started to warm on you. You truly do understand why so many girls have fallen for him. If you ever saw Steve on the street, a stranger passing by, you’d fall a little bit in love with him yourself.

The thought startles you. “Well, uh…”

“Yes?” Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling.

“Thank you for the chips. The kids haven’t eaten anything in hours, so…” You wave the three bags in your arms. “Gotta keep 'em fed.”

“Wait a second, there’s only three bags there. Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“I only had enough money for the boy’s chips.” You say, feeling suddenly sheepish. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just eat a few pieces from them and wait until we get home.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, no.”

You frown at him, confused as he rustles through his jean pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I don’t want your money–”

He doesn’t listen and simply puts the cash into the vending machine and punches in a few numbers. Slowly, one by one, multiple different bags of sweets and chips come falling down within the machine. Once the last one has dropped, Steve bends down and offers the huge stash to you.

“A feast, on me.” He winks at you and you can’t help but blush.

“T–thanks, I guess.” You now carefully balance the rest of the snacks in your arms, the mound almost blocking your view. You’re not sure how much Steve just paid, but with all these snacks you and the kids will surely be well fed.

Steve shrugs, and if you weren’t so tired you’d think the blush on his face was a real one. “It’s the least I can do, all things considered.”

His words give you pause. You know he’s referencing earlier today, back in the alley where fists slammed against skin and he had dragged you away from your best friend, but the memory feels like years ago. So much has happened since then, Steve has saved your life since then.

“Steve…” Your ankle is starting to sting again from standing for so long, so you adjust your footing and try to figure out what you want to say. “I never got to thank you back at Jonathan’s.”

“Thank me?” His face scrunches in confusion in a sickeningly cute way that it almost distracts you.

“Yes. You saved my life tonight, Steve. I won’t ever forget that.”

“Oh…There’s no need to thank me. I mean, what are friends for?” Steve freezes and clears his throat. “I mean, shit. We aren’t friends, you keep saying that. Sorry. You know what I mean.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends?

“Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused.

“Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!”

“We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted.

Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

Steve starts moving around in what you can only guess is a happy dance. “Sweet! Does this mean I get a cool nickname, too?”

“A nickname?” A bag of chips threatens to fall from your arms, but Steve catches it before it can land on the ground and takes a few more snacks off of your hands.

He readjusts the snacks he now has so that he can carry them easier. “Yeah, I mean. Byers has one, why can’t I?”

You don’t think you’ll ever stop feeling so thrown every time Steve mentions a small detail about you that he’s somehow come to notice. He has a habit of doing that, surprising you by how much he seems to pay attention to you. You thought that no one ever had before, but Steve continues to prove you wrong.

“I’ll tell ya what,” you begin to walk back towards the waiting room, careful to step carefully to not drop anything or upset your ankle. “Let’s see how this ‘friends’ thing works out, then I’ll decide what nickname fits you best. Deal?”

Steve thinks for a moment and follows. “Hmm. I don’t know, I think I’ll need some type of precaution to make sure you give me a nickname in the end. I want one, Y/N. I’m so serious right now.”

You laugh at his pleading tone. “I can add you to my baking list. Whatever I bake, you’ll get a piece of it. Is that better?”

“God, yes!” Steve punches the air and cheers.

You’re smiling so much that your face aches. You haven’t felt this light and carefree in so long, you’d almost forgotten what it’s like. The two of you don’t say anything else as you walk back to the waiting room, though Steve seems to slow down so that you don’t hurt your ankle keeping up, though you still let out a few winces and groans.

When you’ve arrived back at your seat, Steve sets down the snacks and runs off without another word. You’re confused by his sudden departure but don’t think much of it. Instead, you wake the boys up and show them your array of snacks, which wakes them up immediately.

You’re mediating a fight between Mike and Lucas over who gets the bag of Chips Ahoy when a nurse interrupts. “Excuse me, ma’am. This young man over here told me I should come over and check out your ankle?”

The woman smiles and you look past her and see Steve sheepishly waving from his seat across from you. You’re stunned. Had he really gone out of his way to ensure your ankle gets treated?

You shake the thoughts out of your head and inform the woman all she needs to know. You tell her how you’d fallen and what type of pain you feel when you stand up. She inspects the ankle, her fingers cold but kind, and within a few minutes has diagnosed you with a sprained ankle.

“All you can really do is stay off of it for a few weeks while it heals. I can go and get you some crutches, if you’d like?” She asks, rolling her gloves off and tucking them back into her pocket.

You nod. “If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great.”

The nurse leaves with the promise of being back soon. In the meantime she instructs you to keep your ankle elevated, so you prop it against the coffee table and wait. You’re annoyed that you even have to have crutches, but then you think of Barb, of El. You’re luckier than you should be.

–

After an hour or so, Jonathan opens the door to the waiting room. He spots you and Mike talking softly with each other and whistles over to catch your attention. When Mike looks up, Jonathan nods at him and the boy scrambles out of his seat.

“Guys! Guys! He’s up, Will is up!” Mike shakes awake Lucas and Dustin, who had been cuddling on the seats fast asleep. “Will’s up!”

Once they’re awake, they quickly follow after Mike and the three boys are gone in an instant, sprinting down the hall towards Will’s room. Clearly they’re eager to see their friend.

You do your best to get up as fast as possible, but your new crutches serve more as a nuisance rather than an aid. As you struggle to get up, somehow knocking over the mountain of snacks, Steve rushes over.

He grabs the crutches and offers you his hand. “Here, careful.”

“Thanks,” you awkwardly accept his hand and get up. Jonathan watches from the doorway, a curious look on his face. Nancy does the same from her seat, not saying a word as she watches Steve gently help you navigate the waiting room with your injury.

Jonathan holds the door open for you and takes over once you’re out the door. He grabs the crutches from Steve and is now the one to hold your hand, balancing you. “I can take it from here, Harrington.”

“Right, yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his head and coughs. “I’ll just… yeah.”

He heads back inside and you and Jonathan watch as he leaves. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jonathan turns to you. “Are you two friends now or something?”

“We almost died tonight, bee. I think it’s safe to call Steve a friend now.”

Jonathan bites his lip, though there’s a far off look in his eye that leaves you feeling like you’ve missed something in the conversation. “Guess that’s true. Anyways, let’s get you to Will.”

By the time you make it to the room, the boys have swarmed around Will and are telling him everything he’s missed this week. He’s listening eagerly as they’re telling him about El, but when he sees you enter the room, his eyes light up and he tries to sit up.

“Y/N!” Will calls out, pure excitement in his voice.

You practically fall over in your haste to get to him. The second you’re close enough, you collapse onto his bed and give him the tightest hug you possibly can without hurting him. He feels so small against you, smaller than he’s ever felt before, and his sunken eyes and pale skin make you want to cry.

But he’s alive and here and in your arms once again, happy and wonderful and safe.

“Little bee,” you try not to cry, but tears are thick in your voice. “I missed you.”

Will manages a weak smile and shrugs, trying to play off the gravity of the situation. “Took a little detour home.”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. “At least you came home, that’s all that matters.”

“Ahem,” Mike obnoxiously clears his throat, effectively ending your moment with Will. “You’re hogging Will, move over.”

You laugh again and move away, allowing the boys to resume their millions of updates. You maneuver your crutches and walk over to Jonathan, who is standing by the door. He’s looking at the boys and Will with a soft smile on his face and you join him, standing side by side as you watch your boys finally come together again.

Then, you feel a pair of eyes on you and you turn around. Nancy is leaning against the doorway behind you; she looks frail and distraught. There’s a sadness in her eyes as she watches the kids. You know that watching the boys reunite with their friend must remind her of Barb. She never got her happy reunion.

You feel awful for the girl, so when her bittersweet smile drops and she turns to leave the room, you nudge Jonathan to make him aware of the situation. He sees her fleeing and begins to follow after her, but he stops.

“What are you waiting for? Go.” You tell him, knowing it’s for the best.

He shifts his weight, uncertain. “Are you sure?”

You’re not sure how to decipher the hidden meanings underneath those three words, but you find that you’re exhausted trying to keep reading between the lines. The feelings you’ve kept buried bubble to the surface, but you remind yourself that he loves Nancy, despite your weird moments of almost with him. There’s something there between you and Jonathan, you both can feel it, but it feels too raw and fragile to bring into the light.

Without having to ask, you know that Jonathan will choose her.

It breaks your heart, but you look over at Dustin and Will, who are laughing about some joke while Joyce gazes at them fondly, and you know that you can’t lose this. Maybe Jonathan knows this, too. The small family you’ve built together, it’s too precious to ruin.

Joyce and your boys, you can’t lose them. They’re yours, and Jonathan is yours in a way that you can’t quite keep to yourself forever, but for now it’s enough. You approach Joyce, grab her hand and give her a tired smile, and the smile she returns to you reminds you that this is more than enough for you.

You turn to Jonathan, pushing down your feelings once more in favor of appreciating the fact that Will is looking at you again, alive. “Go, bee.”

Jonathan gives you one last look. You study his face for a moment, watching as it shifts from confusion, to hurt, then finally into acceptance. You’ll never be sure of what exactly he’d been thinking in that moment, but it seemed to have been enough for him, too.

He smiles, lets out a deep breath, and then leaves.

The door closes softly behind him.

–

A month later you find yourself in the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, tired from your shift at Bookstrordinary but excited to pick up your brothers. Somehow, even after missing three consecutive shifts last month, Mrs. Waters refused to fire you.

But Jonathan? He hadn’t been so lucky. His boss fired him from the Hawk, but he hadn’t been too upset. He still drives you to and from work, so you suppose things could be worse.

It’s late, but the two of you take your time driving to the Wheeler’s. Nothing much has changed between you two following Will’s reappearance. Sure, maybe you’re at his house more just to make sure Will is adapting well, but besides that everything seemed to go back to normal.

Well, almost normal.

Steve appeared at your job a few days after your conversation in the hospital. He had surprised you when you walked in, and when you asked what he was doing in a bookstore, Steve simply shrugged and said, “You can’t figure out my nickname if we don’t hang out, right? So, I’m here.”

He had become a regular at the store, stopping by whenever he could, and slowly the two of you became good friends. You’ve come to enjoy Steve’s presence, something that you never thought would ever happen. But he keeps you company as you work, he wanders around and explores the comics and books you recommend to him, and it’s nice having someone to goof off with.

Plus, you did promise to add him to your baking list, so he’s also become your taste tester who happily eats any creation you bring in for him.

As for Nancy…

That was more of a sore subject for Jonathan.

There was a few weeks following Will’s reappearance that you thought Jonathan and Nancy would get together, but it never happened. You’re not quite sure why, maybe it had something to do with Jonathan’s hesitation of approaching her, but it had crushed him when you and he saw Nancy and Steve making out in the hall as if nothing bad had ever happened.

The way Jonathan’s face crumbled when he saw the couple only solidified that he’d never be yours, but you comforted him anyways. You told him he deserved better and then dragged him away. It’d taken him a few days, but eventually Jonathan was able to fake a smile again.

You haven’t spoken about it since that day, but you leave your window open most nights for him to crawl in. The nightmares from that night fighting the monster plague you both, and the loneliness feels a little heavier than usual, but at least you have each other.

“Jonathan! Y/N! Come in, the boys are downstairs.” Mrs. Wheeler answers the door, letting the two of you in. “And Y/N, I love that sweater on you.”

You thank the woman. “It was a gift from my mom. She claims I need to up my wardrobe, whatever that means.”

“Well, I think she has lovely taste.”

“I’ll let you know you think so!” You open the basement door and motion for Jonathan to go down first.

When he reaches the bottom of the steps, Jonathan makes a face. “Woah, what’s that smell? Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?”

“My vote is farting.” You say, hopping down the last step. Your ankle has mostly healed by now, but sometimes if you land on it wrong it makes a weird clicking noise followed by some pain, but you choose to pretend that it’s normal.

The boys laugh and Lucas points at your brother. “Oh, that’s just Dustin. He farted.”

He begins making fart noises with his mouth and you and Dustin share a look. “Very mature, Lucas.”

The boy continues to sing and make fart noises and you can’t believe that this is your life. You’re standing in a smelly basement while picking up your stubborn brother all while simultaneously enjoying the fact that you get to call this your life.

Jonathan calls over to Will to grab his things, so you follow suit and gently berate Lucas. “Alright, that’s enough. I gotta get Dustin home.”

“What, I thought I got to stay–”

“Jonathan is our ride and I made cookies, so let’s go.”

The moment the word “cookies” leaves your mouth, Dustin hops up and collects his things without any further argument.

Once he’s ready, he and Lucas play wrestle as they say goodbye. While they’re distracted, you walk over to Mike and discreetly hand him a container full of double fudge brownies. You’d specifically made them for him, knowing they were his favorite, because you noticed how hard it’s been for him to adjust to El being gone. He really cared about her, anyone could see that.

Mike’s eyes widen and he throws his arms around you. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You pat his back. “Anytime, Wheeler.”

Dustin breaks away from Lucas and runs up the stairs, so you take that as your cue to leave.

Upstairs, Jonathan and Will are talking to Mrs. Wheeler. When they see you enter, the woman turns to you and asks if you’ll be bringing over your usual round of holiday treats. “Of course, I’ll get started on them tomorrow. You guys still like the sugarbread cookies?”

“If you make them, I think I’ll die of happiness.” Mrs. Wheeler informs you, and you laugh and tell her that you’ll have them ready as soon as possible.

You bid her goodbye, Dustin now by your side, and you follow Jonathan and Will to the front door. Right before you open the door, Nancy calls Jonathan’s name from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Jonathan, wait up!”

You, Dustin, and Will stand awkwardly in the back while Nancy hands Jonathan a wrapped gift and wishes him a merry Christmas. They share an awkward exchange since Jonathan hadn’t gotten her anything, but Nancy assures him that it’s fine. The interaction is painful to watch as Nancy doesn’t spare you a single glance. Dustin and Will look at you uncertainly when she kisses Jonathan’s cheek, but you ignore them and pretend to be interested in a Christmas decoration on the table.

This will never get any easier.

“You ready?” Jonathan turns back to you guys, a blush on his face, and all you can do is silently nod.

In the car you sit in the back with Dustin, who squeezes your arm in reassurance. He’s come to understand your complex feelings for Jonathan and has pieced together Nancy’s involvement. While he’s never outright consoled you, he’s shown his support in other small and wonderful ways.

“Thanks,” you whisper, and Dustin smiles.

“We all buckled up?” Jonathan asks as he starts up the car.

“Yes, captain.” You mock salute.

Will giggles at you before he sees the gift and looks up at Jonathan. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You and Dustin lean forward so you can see what’s in the box. When Will unwraps a beautiful, and no doubt expensive, camera, you gasp. The bitterness and hurt from moments ago vanishes. This gift is from Steve, you know it is, and something warm settles deep within your bones.

You think about last month, how you’d told him not everyone can just afford a camera.

Seems like Steve listened.

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all.

–

A week later you knock on the Byers’ door, a giant container of your annual holiday cookies in your arms.

“Bug!” Jonathan answers the door with an excited smile on his face. His new camera is in his hands and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already taken a photo of you with your crooked earmuffs and oversized box of cookies.

He’s been using the camera ever since he got it. There’s now multiple pictures of you, always unaware or caught off guard, now hanging in the kitchen. It makes you blush to think about.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to smile.” You complain, shoving your way inside. It’s snowing and you’re freezing.

Joyce grabs the container to help you as soon as she sees you. “Here, honey. I’ve got it.”

You thank her and walk over to Will, who is drawing at the kitchen table. “Hey little bee. Whatcha drawing?”

“Hi, Y/N.” He slides over his picture and you’re shown a quick sketch of you and the party, this time fighting what appears to be a misshapen dog. “It’s a Dire Wolf, we’re fighting it in our latest campaign.”

“Ah, I see. Looks fluffy, though. Can’t possibly be a dangerous creature.”

Will rolls his eyes at you. “This is why you don’t play with us.”

“Careful, you’re sassing the girl who has just bravely ridden her bike through the snow to deliver her famous Christmas cookies.”

Will is out of his seat in an instant, running over to his mom, who has just placed the container on the counter. “Did you make the oatmeal raisin cookies?”

“Duh,” you snort.

“And the chocolate chip?”

“I sure did.” You stand next to him and point at a new cookie you’re trying out this year. “This batch is a caramel banana one. Steve seemed to like it and I think it’s pretty good, so I hope you do too.”

Jonathan swoops over and kisses your head. “Of course we’ll like it, bug.”

“He’s right, you know. We always love whatever you make us, honey.” Joyce informs you, her mouth now full of cookies.

“I’d hope so, this is like my fifth year making these for you guys. It’d be awkward if you hated my baking.” You say, now securing your earmuffs back on your head. “Anyways, I should get going. It’s Christmas, my mom won’t want me out too long.”

Joyce looks out the window and frowns. “Did you really bike here in this weather?”

“It wasn’t too bad, I’ll be fine–”

“No. Jonathan, grab your keys and drive Y/N home.” She stares you down, daring you to argue with her, but you don’t. You know better than to argue with Joyce Byers.

Once Jonathan has his keys, you say goodbye to everyone and wish them a merry Christmas. Jonathan throws your bike in his trunk and soon you’re off on the road. The drive is quiet but cozy. The snowflakes fall in a pretty spiral and there’s a soft song playing on the radio.

Sometimes, if you close your eyes, you can pretend that the events from last month never happened. Will never disappeared. You never discovered that you love Jonathan. Nancy Wheeler never became friends with Jonathan, possibly something more had there been more time. When you close your eyes and sit still, you can imagine that your brother never has nightmares that wake him up screaming. That your heart doesn’t hurt when you make your best friend laugh.

For a moment, you can forget.

“Can we always stay like this?” You ask Jonathan softly, almost as if you’ll disturb the peace that winter has brought with its quiet snow.

“Like what?”

You’re not sure how to express what you’re feeling. “This, us. Together.”

“Of course we’ll always stay like this.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. He says this like it’s a fact, the most obvious thing in the world.

“Pinky promise me.” You hold your pinky up. You know it’s silly, but you need him to hear you, to understand what you’re saying.

Jonathan looks over at you. “Y/N–”

“Please, promise me, bee.”

He’s silent for a moment, seeming to understand the weight of everything between, around, and within the two of you. Then, he extends his pinky finger and wraps it around yours. “I promise, bug.”

And you believe him.

[END OF SEASON 1]

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #im so tired n happy and full of love for u all #cannot believe its done :')#pls pls pls enjoy <333

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bluespiritshonour · 6 months

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Oh my God!

I just caught up with World's Finest: Teen Titans and I absolutely have to write this out:

First of all, I love this cover:

The thing that caught my eye: “you're grounded.”

Not the dramatic “you're fired” as if the motherfucker didn't raise that damn kid in his own damn house for YEARS.

(I know. I know. Bar on the ground, but what would you?)

Also, the anger palpable on Bruce's face and Dick's absolute disregard for it. I'm laughing here y'all. This is what teenagers act like. This is what fights between parents and children look like.

Also. Dick Grayson, I've been missing. You're back from war!

I love how curt he is. The “Get lost” hits in all the right places. We love a strongly-principled character that stands for what he believes in. With all the lukewarm Dick Grayson writing floating around I felt like walking into a coffee shop while it's snowing outside.

More of this writing, please.

I'd been waiting for this moment all through this series.

This conversation.

I compare things all the time. It might not be the right thing in every field but I think it serves well when it comes to comic books. We all have personal “canon criteria”—for example, mine are “Darwyn Cooke wrote this Bruce so I'm taking it as valid characterisation ” or “Every version of Bruce played by Kevin Conroy is valid”. (Minus Bruce Timm bullshit!)

Which was what cinched my hatred for Bruce after reading a Robin short story that Cooke wrote and alluded to Robin: Year One in it. I mean, I might not fuck with Dixon, but am I going to call even Cooke's Bruce OOC? No. It means Bruce is a jerk. Full stop.

Waid is one of the writers I respect (excluding Kingdom Come. I hate it and I can't put my finger on the why. But I just do: I hate it. I hate it for Clark. I hate it for Diana. And I'm a professional Bruce-hater so let's not even go there. I hate it for Dick too.)

And Dick and Bruce's relationship has a lot of baggage from the fact that a) Bruce is himself traumatised and fails to meet Dick's emotional needs b) he wasn't ready to be a father when he adopted Dick c) Dick simply suffers from being the eldest—the test child.

And very rarely have I seen writers manage to walk on the thin line of complicated-but-dedicated-and-strong.

Young Justice cartoon did it. Dick and Bruce's relationship is going strong. But they fight and have different values. And Dick can see all that is wrong with Bruce's approach to vigilantism in particular and life in general.

Grimm (Legends of the Dark Knight #149-154) did it right. Where Bruce hurt Dick deeply and made him feel unwanted all the while overthinking about Dick's well-being. Way to go, buddy! You can see the repercussions it has for Dick while simultaneously stare at this man who's tying himself into knots trying to think how best to parent.

I think that's what most Bruce and Dick comics miss: the excessive worrying. They don't show the worry, make them fight for drama, never address it apart from throwing out a “it's because Bruce's worried” (bitch, where?) and have Dick running back to Gotham at the first chance. It sounds an awful lot like “your parents hurt you 'cause they love you” bullshit.

I think World's Finest manages it well because foremost, Bruce says, in words, that he's worried about Dick's well-being. He's taciturn, he's putting constant pressure on Dick all in the hopes of making him quit Titans. All this makes him a jerk. But I don't hate him for it.

It's between Dick's “you don't trust me” and Bruce's “no, I don't trust them.”

Most teenagers clash with their parents. It's normal. That's what Waid has shown here and I love it. It feels very—normal?

Especially when the Bats aren't normal! Bruce sure as fuck ain't a normal parent. But there was something very bitter-sweet coming-of-age in this conversation.

Bruce does all those things that are bad for Dick and his growing independence. You're not supposed to handle teenagers like that.

He's worried and taking desperate measures. “If I punish him, then maybe he'll obey me and quit Titans and then he'll he safe”—lots of parents who don't know how to deal with teenagers do it.

But the sequence of it: Bruce is worried → Bruce wants Dick to quit Titans → for Dick it means proving himself to be better, to not get hurt (as if he can control that beyond a certain point) → Bruce being alarmed at Dick's insistence to stay with the Titans and taking desperate measures like benching him.

At least it makes sense.

Compare it to Dixon's Nightwing origin story, which honestly, personally I think was lazy writing. Drama for drama's sake. “You’re fired because you're spending too much time with the Titans.” The same writer also had Bruce say that he did it because he wanted Dick to strike out on his own. Blah, blah, blah.

And no matter whatever happens he'd never ever say it to Dick's face that he's worried about him because—well, reasons.

Robin: Year One logic:

I'm worried about Dick's health so I fire him. He runs off and can get hurt? He joins a school for assasins? None of my business. He can get hurt on his own, I don't care as long as it is not on my conscience. Peace.

—Bruce “professional narcissist” Wayne.

So, yes. When faced with this book(WF: TT), I'd call Dixon's writing lazy.

I'm also comparing this to several other instances when Bruce verbally says (never to Dick, mind you) that he loves that Dick's a better person and better vigilante than him. But in the same book he'd yell at Dick for exactly the same thing. (I consider that lazy writing, since BTAS made sure to show a shot of Bruce smiling whenever Dick was happy/not like him).

I like this thing here where he says it to Dick's face. He's still grounding him for “discipline's sake” or whatever—very, very IC for Bruce.

But he also lets Dick know that he appreciates his values, that are different—better—than Bruce's own.

I can stomach that.

Honestly Bruce's writing in this book felt like BtAS writing (pre-Bruce Timm fuckery). That's a compliment.

P.S. Waid's a good story-teller overall. His Superman: Birthright was one of the first Superman comics I read and I fell in love with Clark right away.

Peace ✌️😂

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #world's finest #teen titans #robin #titans #wf: tt #world's finest: teen titans #dc #comics

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bellaxgiornata · 1 month

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Congrats Bella!!! From one mama to another - what are your headcannons for Matt and Frank with a pregnant partner and how do they adjust to fatherhood (again in Frank’s circumstance)?

Thank you!! 💕And ohhh boy, do I have THOUGHTS on this topic for Matt and Frank in particular. Some of the thoughts about Matt you'll see bits of in Seeking Forgiveness and even more in future installments of FFTD (like way later for that series), and the ones for Frank I've wanted to include in a possible second part to You're Body is Not a Graveyard or something else entirely because there is a lot that can be discussed. Of course, I'll put everything below the cut (and y'all can keep sending things in from my celebration post here).

Matt Murdock Adjusting to Fatherhood

From the very beginning, right after initially finding out you were pregnant, Matt would absolutely be internally beating himself up. That man would be thinking he's going to fail as a father right from the start because despite all Matt's cocky confidence, he's got a lot of self-loathing and insecurities going on under the surface. And if you were having a boy? You can guarantee that comment about the Murdock boys having the Devil in them would be in his head constantly.

But despite that, the very first moment he hears the baby's heartbeat would bring him to his knees. That rapid, fluttering sound would become one of his favorites instantly. Because despite his fear of failing you and baby, knowing that child was his would have him feeling a love he's never experienced before. Especially with how much and how long he has been feeling alone in the world after his father's passing, knowing that baby was his family would be a very big deal to Matt and would often leave him indescribably emotional.

With his heightened senses, Matt would become bonded to baby quicker than most fathers generally are before birth. He would always be checking in on baby's heartbeat, zeroing in on the sound of baby's movements as they grew bigger, and even the way he'd be feeling their movements over your stomach would be an entirely different experience for him with his sense of touch. You'd definitely catch him occasionally grinning to himself in the apartment or while you were out because of something he was listening to baby doing.

When it came time for baby to be born, the man would be in a panic getting you to the hospital. It would be almost comical to see, making it seem like he was the one about to give birth with how he was acting. But really? He would be hearing every painful contraction you were suffering through with his senses, suffering through each one with you in his own way because he hated seeing you in pain and not being able to help. He'd be having a hard time trying to keep himself in check in the hospital while you gave birth, his senses making the entire experience terrifying for him, but he'd do his best to be there for you.

Once baby was born, Matt would be all about the skin to skin. He would shed his shirt and want to hold the baby as soon as you'd give him the chance. And that newborn smell? With his nose it would be something even more amazing to Matt–a very big dopamine hit for him.

Back home, he would do his best to help out with baby despite feeling like he was in over his head. But he would quickly realize he was amazing at anticipating what baby needed with his heightened senses, knowing when they were hungry or tired or needed a diaper usually right before they even started to cry.

But Matt would still be going out as Daredevil in the evenings. Despite his fear of leaving his own child fatherless through his actions (like his own father), it still wouldn't be something he could give up. Though he'd do his best to compromise with you about it all. But admittedly, he'd always have a part of himself distracted, keeping an ear out for anything going on back home. Because as much as he loves Hell's Kitchen, his own child would ultimately come first.

Frank Castle Adjusting to Fatherhood for a Second Time

Frank would initially have a hard time discussing starting a family with you after everything he'd been through with losing the family he thought he'd always have. But deep down, he'd ultimately know that's what he wanted with you. Not a do-over or a replacement family, but a chance at being happy again, of feeling that love he once felt instead of the empty, hollow space in his chest.

Finding out you were pregnant would be a mix of emotions for him. He'd be crying on the bedroom floor with you when you brought him that positive pregnancy test. Tears of joy at the new life already growing within you, but also tears of a deep, indescribable grief at the memory of the first time Maria had told him the very same thing.

He would attend every OB appointment you asked him to come to. Every ultrasound he would be right there holding your hand, fighting tears as he watched his baby's movements up on the screen. And every time he heard the baby's heartbeat when they checked would be like the first time all over again, a wave of relief crashing over him to hear that sound and to know everything was okay. Because deep down he'd always be terrified of another loss.

Frank would be going out of his way for you during your pregnancy. You're craving a cheeseburger or cookie dough ice cream at midnight? You can guarantee he'd be out the door getting it for you. Your feet are sore or swollen or your back was killing you? He'd be demanding you sit down, kick your feet up, and let him give you a massage. You're throwing up because of horrible morning sickness? He'd be right there holding your hair back without a word, bringing you your toothbrush and some mouthwash afterwards.

But that doesn't mean you wouldn't find Frank occasionally sitting outside in the backyard or on the edge of your bed alone and crying. Mourning the loss of Lisa and Frank Jr. along with Maria. Because the pain of that would never leave him, something you'd long since understood. There would certainly be times you'd be the one silently offering him comfort while he struggled with his grief being painfully brought back to the surface during the entire experience.

On lazy days and late nights, you'd be sitting with Frank, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling as you listened to him talk to your growing bump. His large hand would be affectionately resting atop it, and if baby managed to hit or kick him? He'd chuckle and happily accept the interruption.

When it came time for you to give birth, you can absolutely believe that man on the outside would look completely calm and in charge. He'd have the hospital bags packed and in hand while guiding you to the car. He'd stay awake with you through labor, no matter how many hours it lasted, and getting you whatever you needed. He'd be there calmly talking to you and doing what he could to ease your mind. But internally? He'd be panicking. Terrified of something going wrong, afraid God or someone would punish him for the things he's done and take both of you away from him in one fell swoop. And if that happened, he'd believe he deserved it, too.

But once baby was born and he was assured that you were both perfectly safe and healthy, he'd be pulling off his shirt and accepting his newborn from your arms. And he would be a hysterical, bawling mess as he held that tiny baby in his big arms. Whenever he could finally get the tears to lessen, you'd be hearing him promise that baby a million things with the biggest, watery smile on his face.

Despite Frank still having quiet moments of grief that you'd catch him trying to hide from you, moments where he'd be mentally reliving experiences from his past that still hurt him, he would be present for absolutely everything with you and baby. Diaper blowouts, late night runs to the store for formula, burping baby over his shoulder and being entirely unfazed by baby spitting up all over himself. Every cry in the middle of the night would wake him and he'd be right there, doing whatever needed to be done without a single word of complaint no matter how exhausted he was.

Frank would internally have long since made a vow to protect both you and baby no matter what, and he'd take that vow very seriously. But he'd also vow to never miss or not appreciate a single moment this time around--a smile, a first word, first steps. He'd be there for it all. And you'd certainly never catch him miss an opportunity to read them a bed time story to sleep every single night.

I could certainly go on with way more, but then this post would be massive 😅 These are just a few of my thoughts about these two as fathers!

#bellas 2.5k follower celebration #matt murdock headcanons #frank castle headcanons #adjusting to fatherhood #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #matt murdock #frank castle

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norrisleclercf1 · 5 months

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Writing Prompt Celebration Below 👇

Never did I think I would ever hit 6K, even after I've toned down how much I've written and I truly couldn't ever begin to thank everyone but mainly to @thegrantic who is my wifey and has always been there for me. For Mar @percervall my mother and lets me rattle so many ideas off of her.

To @goldsainz one of the first blogs I followed and even made me into Ferrari girlie. Now for @vivwritesfics and @faithshuoseofchaos, you two are so amazing and I love when we talk especially when I get to read your amazing works. To my baby and child @f1driverszona whose work I love so dearly and see grow each time.

And of course the 4 people I see most in my blog @goldenmclaren @lifeboredme @twinkodium @mcmuppet Thank you for everything, I'm serious whenever I've never felt good about a post I see y'all there and it makes me smile so much. So thank you honestly for everything you kept me going when I felt like quitting. I love you all so very much

And to all my moots, thank you for always loving my works and filling my page with love and support. Also to everyone who requests and follows. I wouldn't be her without you and your ideas you're what keeps me going even on my hard days.

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

For the Celebration which will begin on 01/30/24 till 02/06/24 I will be allowing requests from these prompts and please follow these rules

add the driver or drivers to your request

add which prompt and from which list

you can request for anyone I write or little projects, i.e. Mini Lando, Our Boy, Mafia!Jenson, Mafia!Mick etc.

please be patient when requesting I'm a very busy student and have studying but I'll still be writing them

the last day to request for this will be on 02/06/24

Prompt Lists:

Comic Prompts

Deep Cuddling Prompts

Soft moments that are just so precious prompts

Make me Drop to My Knees Prompts

Reuniting Lovers Prompts

Taking a Bath with a Lover Prompts

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #norrisleclercf1 6k celebration

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punkeropercyjackson · 22 days

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Afrolatino Jason needs to be written not as a black Jason but Jason as a black character.Jason within canon already has all the qualities for a good black character except acttually being of african heritage and this is where the problems with fanon potrayals come in because they change him too much and at the same time,don't actually employ blackness into him as anything but an aesthetic or quirk

As an afrolatino and afrolatina(genderfluid and bigender)who started reading comics due to starting to selfship with Jason because i watched Utrh,it hurts but also makes me so fucking angry that these people have the audacity to act like they're doing it out of love for Jason when they don't even love him enough to respect his personality,coping mechanisms and relathionships because they only care about how hot he is and that's all that was needed to ruin his entire character in fan content for years and years and years,all because they can't handle unconventional characters despite their self-proclaimed freakiness.Adding 'Snowbunny' to your list of fetishes you have for Jason isn't representation and you've all treated him worse than DC ever has and yeah,i'm including Ditf

Stop taking Duke from Jason and Jason from Duke-Stop taking EVERYTHING from Duke to give it your ugly ass white boys Jason would hate anyway.Stop hypermasculinizing and oversexualizing him.Stop making him stupid and uncultured.Stop making him a fucking misogynist and animalistic.Stop forcing him to be best friends with Roy and Tim when he's never liked them that much and he never will and it makes sense with his character.Stop just slapping melanin onto him and calling it black character design.Stop being fake or just don't headcanon him as black-latino at all because it's not your call to begin with and my nonblack and white afrolatino Jason hc'ing friends started seeing him that way because i told them why i did and they thought it made sense and wanted to be supportive too and a racist ass of an ex-friend immediately jumped to 'Um but he's got anger issues and violent tendencies so ion know :/' without even hearing me out first when I'M the one who's actually a nigga and she did/said tons of microaggressions i didn't pick up on and started whining about me being 'mean' and 'innapropriate' for getting her ass post-realization and making a slave master joke at her expense for speaking over me on purpose

This is exactly what i mean cause that's how Y'ALL react to being called out on YOUR microaggressions towards Jason,both the afrolatino interpretation and canon compliant Jason with your ableist stereotyping and harmful anti-recovery headcanons(see the hypermasculinizing and oversexualizition i mentioned for both of those),and Duke and Cass too although she is nonblack she's worth mentioning since i brought Snowbunnies which are rooted in racialized misogyny and y'all need to stop feminizing and infantalizing her.She's a canon tomboy and she grown too and more 'unhinged' as y'all put it than Jason is textually and him and Duke are either equally chaotic or Duke is even more chaos.Back to reactions,nobody says jackshit about the 'Jason fucked Talia' jokes when that scene was csa,incest and anti-arab propaganda all in one or 'Jason grew up to date his brothers exes' that's deadass just child grooming that ALSO relies on thee most misogynoiristic incarnation of Kory ever and the constant gender essentialism and ableist termology thrown at Jason that he CANONICALLY defies and even expresses to be against.But when black Batfam fandom members get mean about the Duke exclusion and Cass' too out of poc solidarity,suddenly we need to chill and stop making things that deep and learn to curate to curate our experience

No.YOU need to curate your experience.Find the story you want instead of gentrifying the Batfam and grooming minors into it.Duke is a Batboy,a Robin and a Batkid so he's part of Batfam lore.Duke is Jason's favorite brother so he's a part of Jason's story and black solidarity is essential to writing a black character.Which is what afrolatino Jason is SUPPOSED to be and if additional Bats are needed,then it should be black ones like Duke.Afrolatino Jason HAS to be a black character.He needs Duke.He needs black Outlaws.He needs to love woc in general but especially black women.He needs to defy male expectations,not live up to them.He needs connections to his black roots,including his apperance

Jason Todd needs to be a black character,not just a mischaracterized mess that dosen't appreciate him and what makes irl black people see him the same as us.Afrolatino Jason was made by us,FOR us and you have no place headcanoning him that way if you aren't going to do it like we do.Afrolatino Jason is not your fetish and canon Jason dosen't wanna be seen as one to begin with.PUT SOME RESPECT TO HIS NAME!!!!!!!!

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respectthepetty · 1 year

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ALERT ALERT!!! TAIWAN REQUEST ASK INCOMING!!!

Please can you recommend to me your top 5 Taiwan BLs? I saw you posting about a few and wanted to know when you would recommend please?! is it always enemies to lovers?

Thank you in advance colour genius!

WHY ARE THESE ASKS ONLY GETTING HARDER?! First, y'all wanted my Top GMMTV actors, then it was Top GMMTV pairs, and now you are coming for my heart and soul with my

Top Five Taiwanese BLs!

That's like making me decide who is my favorite Backstreet Boy (it's Kevin) or telling me to choose my favorite child. I don't have kids, but I feel this is very similar. I love all of them equally for different reasons. Taiwanese BLs are my favorites because they have the best parents, high heat, some (but not all) enemies-to-lovers, and serve domestic bliss, so forcing me to pick between them is painful.

But I'll do it!

However, I'm gonna finesse my way into having more than five, yet still only technically giving you five.

The Ones That Couldn't Be Considered:

First, I will not count HIStory 4: Close to You in this list because it is my favorite BL. Period. It is not fair to these other BLs that they can't be a strategic hot ass mess with the gusto that my beloved HIS 4 had.

Next, Oh No! Here Comes Trouble isn't a BL, so I can't count it, but it was queer to me. I watched it for Your Name Engraved Herein's Tseng Ching-hua, but when Guang Yan said "This comic is not only about my high school life, but also about my heart," their love became canon for me, and I knew I wasn't moving past this show. When I write my book If You Just Don't Wanna Admit It's Queer, That's On You, the masses will see exactly what was there all along.

I can't include Red Balloon because, quite simply, I don't remember it well enough since I watched it when it was released in 2017, but I still feel it in my heart, you know? Edward Chen, the opposite lead in Your Name Engraved Herein, and Jason Tauh of HIStory 5: Love in the Future were the younger leads, so if Gagaoolala brings it back, I'll watch it again to see how they have both evolved.

I can't put my finger on why I won't include DNA Says I Love You, but I think it's because I don't classify it as a BL, yet I don't know why I don't classify it as a BL because it is a BL. It is! But . . . I don't know bruv. Either way, it's slow but good!

See You After Quarantine?'s entire runtime is a little over an hour. That's one episode of a Thai BL! It's cute, quick, and creative, but I cannot use up a spot on an eighty-minute series even though it was good. I'm sorry boys, I'll see you after my Hot Tops!

The Ones That Made the List:

#5 - About Youth

I hate singing, but the songs (and singing) in this series were GOOD, so much so that I still listen to the theme song. The characters (except Ye Guang's shitty parents) were also good, but Ray was my favorite. It was just serious enough to not seem trivial but was still light and enjoyable, and Xu Qi Zhang's mom and pink Converse deserve some appreciation.

#4 - Be Loved in House: I Do

That argument in the street that spilled over into the office the next day is one of my top five fights! In case you haven't watched it, Real got upset because he believed everyone was hiding a relationship from him, so Shi Lei called him out on his hypocrisy since they were basically in a relationship yet hiding it. Real misunderstood, but that made Shi Lei more upset which lead to him screaming at Real in the office asking if he even thought about them as a couple. Then Shi Lei's mother and that coming out scene! AND THE FLOOR SCENE! So many amazing scenes. So little space.

#3 - We Best Love

Although I prefer No. 1 For You, it goes hand-in-hand with Fighting Mr. 2nd, so I'm counting them as one for this list. The second part gave us the office slap heard around the world, and that superb drunken confession, but the first portion really delivered a cohesive story about pseudo enemies-to-lovers that had satisfying pacing and great side characters. The show also had color coding, so if it weren't for the promise of a third season that has yet to be delivered, that time jump and the reasoning for the separation, it would have been No. 1 For Me.

#2 - My Tooth, Your Love

As soon as Jin Xun An said he knew a good therapist, it was over for these other BLs. Jin Xun An is such an adult and does not have time for tomfoolery, which pushed Bai Lang to grow. A majority of BLs openly express that one of the leads is a mess from trauma, yet gives the message that the other person should and will love them regardless. Not this BL! Jin Xun An said he would love Bai Lang through it, but he didn't allow Bai Lang to treat him like poo or make excuses for his behavior while kindly pushing Bai Lang to treat himself as seriously and as gently as Jin Xun An did. Oh, and the side couple was intriguing as well.

#1 - HIStory 3: Trapped & HIStory ?: Freed

You notice how all the other couples on this list are right next to each other, probably holding each other likely in bed? NOT THESE TWO! Mis tóxicos fell in love in the woods while handcuffed to each other after running away from their kidnappers while Kinn was still dating Tawan and Porsche was sexing up customers behind the bar (KinnPorsche). Mis tóxicos were not trusting each other, yet willing to fuck while Dr. Bun was still in the big city and Tan wasn't even on his radar (Manner of Death). I'm not making a comparison; I'm making a statement that this show changed me and what I now crave from other shows. If a man isn't willing to kill for his guy AND possibly kill his guy too, then is it really love? I have demanded for FOUR YEARS that my boy Tang Yi be released, and one of these days, Taiwan will deliver us what we all deserve -

HIStory 15: Freed WHEN?

#taiwanese bls #HIStory: Freed WHEN?!#HIStory 3: Trapped #My Tooth Your Love #We Best Love #we best love: no. 1 for you #we best love: fighting mr. 2nd #be loved in house: i do #About Youth the series

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yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt · 8 months

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Y'all so I was wondering about why the fuck Blackheart is a "Lord" in the comic. I thought at first he'd just made it up for himself but other people are seen referring to him as "My Lord" so I feel like it's his actual rank.

And I researched it and from what I found, you have to inherit it from your noble parents, marry into a noble family, or have been granted the title from the reigning monarch (you don't get the title for owning property like Those Websites advertise). I guess it's possible that Blackheart's family had noble blood, even if his father did manage to go so broke he had to sell his own child but it seems more likely he just made the title up for himself and everyone ran with it. BUT I did find something funny

The wife of a knight has the title of Lady, the feminine equivalent to the Lord title

So Lord would be Ballister's real rank and title were he married to a Knight.

Goldenloin is a knight

You KNOW that bitch would not shut up about that. While they're fighting after Ballister dubs himself a Lord Ambrosius would taunt him like "omg if you wanted to marry me just say that 💅🏻" and then once they're back together it's just "hey sooooooo wanna be a Lord for real 👀"

#HOW fucked up would it be if they were legally married before the joust and that's why B had that title #i jest i jest #nimona #ambrosius goldenloin #goldenheart #ballister blackheart #nimona graphic novel #ballister x ambrosius #yywihh hcs

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lyzelky · 2 months

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I recently received a request for my tiefling headcanons, (also mentioned in this comic) so I put together a ramshackle biology guide for them. It's not 100% faithful to DnD or BG3 lore, but I borrowed enough from them that it's pretty interchangeable.

IMPORTANT: I tried to keep most things as clinical as possible to avoid Tumblr-geddon, but anything vaguely NSFW in the comic has is written in pink text for your convenience.

((CW: Clinical (Non-Graphic) descriptions of Heat/Rut cycles, menstruation, no A/B/O)) I'm also going to copy over all the text from the panels into text format on here so y'all can just read them if you want.

Text version below!

INFERNAL TRAITS

Tieflings possess a variety of features that hearken back to the Hellish influence in their bloodline. Often these traits are animalistic in nature, though in extreme cases may appear more akin to aberrations.

Common features include glowing eyes, horns, clawed fingers and toes, and tails.

Tieflings are inclined to be left handed or ambidextrous.

Less common traits include hooves, paws, or talons for feet, wing like appendages, goat-like ears, a forked tongue, etc.

A Protruding Brow ridge and cheekbones are more common among males. They are considered attractive by some and less so by others, and it seems to crop up in those who are closer to their Infernal sire (I.e, the direct child of a cambion).

Tieflings possess raised ridges on various parts of their body. They can range from boney and firm to soft and fleshy, with the intensity and abundance of ridges varying per individual.

EYE VARIATIONS

The eyes of a tiefling born to two tieflings will almost always have infernal coloring. In this regard, the scelera should be jet black and glossy, and the iris vibrant and produce a strong glow.

The eyes of a tiefling born to humans can either have infernal or mundane coloration. The pupil is usually oblong, but other shapes have been known to occur.

A child born to one tiefling and one human has an equal chance of inheriting either trait.

In both cases, the pupil functions like a cat’s would; narrowing in bright light, and dilating in darkness or while in a state of heightened emotion.

TEETH VARIATIONS

Male tieflings typically have longer fangs than Females. Males are are considered to be more attractive the longer their fangs are.

This attraction is perhaps more hardwired than cultural, as most female (and some male) tieflings are on the receiving end of a bite during their heat.

It is not uncommon to see some tieflings with filed teeth, especially in places where discrimination is common.

TAIL VARIATIONS

The shape of The tail tip (Often referred to as a ‘spade’) manifests in a variety of forms, with some sporting tufts of hair or even fins.

Tiefling Parents might take their newborn to a fortune teller to predict their child’s lifeline based on the spade and other distinctive features. (Longer tail = Longer life, Thin Tail = Weak Constitution, etc.)

Long tails are typically seen as more attractive, but it’s usually down to a matter of preference.

Although their tails are not prehensile, having a dexterous tail is often seen as a sign that someone is more skilled in bed.

REPRODUCTIVE CYCLE

Like humans, tieflings endure a 9-month gestation period, and all other developmental markers remain the same despite most tieflings living upwards of 200 years.

Tieflings differ slightly in regards to ovulation and fertility. Unlike humans, tieflings will experience either a heat or a rut that is the primary driver of their breeding cycle.

Females typically experience their first heat at around 16-18, with males experiencing their first rut at around 18-20.

Unlike a human menstruation cycle, females will go into heat every 2-3 months for 1-2 days at a time, after which menstruation will last for about 4 days.

A rut occurs at roughly the same frequency, but can be triggered early by heat pheromones.

Many tieflings use potions, herbs, or magic items to mitigate their heat/rut cycle, but long term usage is not advised.

During this period, the afflicted experiences heightened arousal and an instinctual urge to breed. Fertility is increased during this period.

Increased production of pheromones signals potential mates that one has entered heat/rut.

Scent glands along the hips, jawline, tail and neck become highly sensitive.

“Tail flagging” may occur, in which the tail lifts and inches over to the side to provide “easier access”.

Heat and Rut Symptoms

A tiefling usually experiences a variety of symptoms in the days leading up to their heat or rut. Primarily the afflicted will notice:

- Increased Fatigue

- Increased body temperature

- Increase in appetite/thirst

- Increased sensitivity to olfactory and tactile senses.

- Mood swings that include irritability, aggression, and anxiety, especially if in an unfamiliar or dangerous location.

Those in heat often feel the urge to retreat to someplace familiar and safe, and often engage in “nest-making” behavior.

This consists of surrounding one’s self in paraphernalia associated with loved ones (Often clothes, pillows or bed linens). A partner will often assist in prepping the nest and gifting appropriate items in a show of support and affection.

Those in rut without a partner tend to withdraw into a solitary location, and often experience bouts of aggression and irritability.

Those with a partner often become exceedingly territorial or possessive, especially if said partner is in heat or is pregnant.

When seeking out a partner, gifts may be given as a show one is a good provider; this is more of a ceremonial practice than a biological one. Gifts often include jewelry, fine clothing, rare artifacts etc.

That's all for now! Let me know if you liked it or not or want more. Feel free to use this stuff for your own stories/fanfics/art whatever, but I'd appreciate if you linked back to this post or my blog if you do. Thanks!

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gravedigginbbydoll · 10 months

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Sweeter Than Sweet Tea

Eddie x Southern! Fem! Reader Blurb

AN: Hey y'all! So this came up while I was rewatching Steel Magnolias (one of my favorites)! I myself am Southern if you can't tell (lol). I def amped up the reader's southern belle persona, but it's a cute little bit of fluff to keep ya goin! But now I'm craving southern homecooking (namely fried okra and fried green tomatoes) and weirdly ambrosia salad and green salad (it's not really salad, its like fruit and whipped cream and nuts lol). But anyways enjoy and please reblog and like as per usual!

Warnings: Bullying, Southern Slang, Slight VIolence, Enemies to Lovers sorta, Fluff

When Eddie first met you, it was the equivalent of an old schoolyard crush. For some odd reason, he loved to get on your nerves. He’d tug on the closest part of you, make some inappropriate comment, and grin ear to ear as you tore into him. You never quite understood why. Until that fateful summer evening.

Indiana got hot, sure, but nowhere near as blazin’ hot as your home back down south. You figured that was why some folks in Hawkins sometimes were so snooty, the summer sun wasn’t enough to melt their frigid hearts. Then again, you didn’t much miss the sweltering summers or the way the older women with hair higher than the heavens in your hometown would glare and mumble about you headin’ straight to the devil’s whorehouse for simply being comfortable.

You were in town having a day for yourself, dressed as pretty as a magnolia in May. You wore your favorite sundress with some wedge sandals, your toes painted a pretty pale blue. You were looking around in the old antique shop, smiling down softly at a set of delicate plates. You were pondering buying it (after all, 5 dollars was a steal), when you felt a tug on your dress. You turned around, clouds setting on your sunny disposition at the sight of the ever rebellious Munson boy. He was dressed in a dark pair of jeans and a loose band t-shirt, his leather jacket hanging off of his shoulders. A cigarette hung from his mouth loosely as he grinned.

“You headed to church, Darlin’?,” Eddie teased, exaggerating the drawl to mock your own.

You frowned, pouting up at him. “No. I like to dress nice for myself. Now leave me be…” You scanned him up and down, frowning disapprovingly at his cigarette despite it being unlit. “And take that thing out of your mouth, for cryin’ out loud. You’ll give Mr. Millan a heart attack if you set off the fire alarm.”

Eddie smirked while removing the unlit cigarette and tucking it into his jacket pocket, clearly not taking the hint. You tried walking away but he followed on your tail like a lost puppy. “C’mon sweetheart. It’s hard not to tease you when you look like you’re about to be awarded the best lil pupil in Sunday School.”

You glared at him, out of the corner of your eye, your annoyance growing. “Well, now, Eddie Munson, I didn’t think you’d know what a church was if it landed on your backside. Can’t you ever learn to leave me alone?”

Eddie’s eyes twinkled with mischief, his face full of boyish charm. If he wouldn’t be such a damn nuisance, you might have found his teasing charming…hell, adorable, even. He leaned against a shelf full of knick knacks and dusty books, looking comically large next to the tiny items. “Sorry, kid. You’re fun to mess with.”

You huffed, turning to look at the collection of odd salt and pepper shakers and cookbooks. “You know I am not a child and I know you have about as much maturity as one.” You thumbed through a cookbook to keep yourself busy, scrunching up your nose at the recipes. You sure did miss pecans, frito pie, sweet cornbread and fried okra. Hell, you even missed those potlucks your mama used to host full of old gossipers trying to catch the latest town news. At least those old coots knew what an ambrosia salad or fried green tomatoes were. You placed the book back down.

Eddie tugged on your dress again, grinning so wide you thought his mouth would split open as you spun around in a huff and yanked the pretty fabric out of his rough hands. “Now will you quit it! I’ve ‘bout had it with your dumbass!,” You exclaimed as quietly as you could in the practically empty store. You felt your accent come out thickener as your face heated up. “I'm leavin’ now. Good day, Eddie Munson.” And with a huff and a swish of your skirt, you were out the doors and back into the warm embrace of the sun, headed to Patty’s Ice Cream Parlor. You weren’t going to let that damned fool ruin your day out.

You were sitting at a booth, enjoying your solo sundae of butter pecan ice cream and hot fudge. You sat there, stewing over Eddie’s consistent annoying quips and his obsession with bothering you. You stabbed your ice cream with the spoon, huffing softly. Where did he get off on bothering you anyway? You usually were polite and kept to yourself in town. You hadn’t made many friends outside of Nancy Wheeler who worked with you part time at the local dress shop when she was home from college. Maybe he found your mannerism funny, kinda like Jason Carver and his wife Chrissy Cunningham.

Chrissy and Jason often showed up to your job. The two were known as the town high school sweethearts who stuck around, Jason inheriting his fathers business while Chrissy stayed home. The two had it out for you since day one in town. You had shown up, dressed casually with your favorite pair of cowboy boots on and a cowboy hat to block out the sun. Chrissy and Jason had just happened to be at the diner you had stopped in, happy to welcome a pot of coffee and some pancakes. You sat at a booth, laying your hat down the right way, looking around. Hawkins had that old school charm. However, within the first few minutes, you’d received some backhanded compliments from the Hawkins’ Sweethearts themselves. Jason and Chrissy couldn’t help ever since then to laugh at your funny drawl, the foods you cooked, or even the clothes you wore. It was a pain.

As if the two were summoned by your thoughts, you saw them waltz through the door, arm in arm, giggling away. You sunk in your seat, staring down into your sundae and hoping to disappear. You heard a jingle of a chain and a flash of black as Eddie came into the seat in front of you, making you sit up and forget about Chrissy and Jason.

“Hey, Darlin’, I couldn’t help but-”

“Edward Munson, leave me alone. I’ve had it with you-” You stood up to walk away, only to be met with a cone of chocolate ice cream smeared across the front of your favorite dress. You gasped, looking up into the eyes of Chrissy who stood there with an evil smile. “Oops. Sorry, hun,” She drawled out, face twisted into a sneer as Jason laughed. You felt your eyes sting with tears as you sniffled and the room blurred. With a muttered, “Pardon,” you ran off to the bathroom.

You stood in the bathroom, wiping at the gown with fury, wet paper towels piling up on the counter. You sniffled, trying to keep from crying. Why did you even try? Everyone in town laughed at you and called you a “Hillbilly Belle”, makin’ fun of you for your upbringing. You charmed the socks off of the older folk but got yelled at for calling people ma’am and sir, all of them assuming you were calling them old. You sniffled and wiped at your eyes, splashing water on your face with determination. You’d go out there, smiling and bright as ever, head home, and put on some Dolly Parton and some comfy clothes, snack on some Moon Pies and maybe even make a nice cold pitcher of sweet tea.

You were headed out of the bathroom and down the hallway when you heard some arguing in the main area of the shop, the teen employees all terrified and huddled in the corner. You peeked around the corner, surprised to see the impressively angry Eddie have a fistful of Jason’s shirt and growling out some threats.

“You keep your filthy grubby hands and your wife’s gross self away from that girl, you hear? She is too good for this town and I’m not letting two assholes like you run her off because you have nothing better to do with your life. Now leave a fuckin’ 50 on the table to pay for that pretty dress you ruined and get the hell out of here before I kick your ass.”

Jason scoffed, eyebrows furrowed and expression in a snarl. “Whatever, freak. You would defend that hick. It’s not like she knows anything but how to farm and suck-”

A sickening crack echoed through the ice cream shop and in a blur of arms and legs, you saw Jason laying across the tile flooring, holding his nose while groaning. Eddie stood over him, fists clenched at his side and shaking as your heart soared. “Now leave, jackass. Otherwise I’ll do a lot more than just break your nose.” Eddie’s tone took on a fearful growl, your skin raising in goosebumps and your face heating up as your breath was caught. Something about the boy who was usually chipper and overly flirtatious with you turning into a ticking time bomb at the first instance of you feeling unhappy made your heart skip a beat and your legs squeeze together. Jason scrambled to get up, dropping a 50 dollar bill on your table, rushing with Chrissy out the door. You shyly rounded the corner, watching as Eddie glared after them, hands still clenched.

“Eddie?,” You softly called, the middle of the ice cream shop empty except for the two of the and the few teen employees who were probably waiting for you and Eddie to leave in fear of the protective metalhead.

Eddie spun around, face softening as he walked up to you, careful to not touch you as he searched your face and person. “You alright? I’m sorry those two were being such jerks-”

You felt your heart thump in your chest as you looked up at him, biting your lip. “Why did you do that?”

Eddie looked shocked, his face going ashen. “You saw that?”

You nodded.

Eddie ran a hand down his face, sighing and looking about 5 years older. He bit his lip for a bit before looking at you and sincerity came across his face. “Look, I know it seems silly but…I like you a lot. Your silly little twang, the way you dress. I love how every time I go to Benny’s I know if you’re there based on if Dolly Parton is played on the old jukebox. I love how cute you are when you’re annoyed and how you’re the most polite person I know unless it’s with me. I like ya, Darling. And I don’t really like people messing with my things or friends,” He trailed off, playing with the rings on his bloodied knuckles, gaze drifting away in shyness.

Your heart jumped to your threat, your mind racing. Now all the pieces of the puzzle made sense to you. Why Eddie hummed Dolly around you, why he left honeysuckles in your mailbox back home, or why he would stop by the dress shop at least once every few weeks claiming to be looking for something for his ‘cousin’ only to leave empty handed. You felt your insides turn syrupy sweet as you melted and kicked yourself for not realizing sooner.

“Now we don’t-”

You cut him off with a hand, looking up and smiling. “Tomorrow. Pick me up at 6 P.M. Dinner.” You poked him with a manicured nail softly in the chest, giving him a stern look. “And dress nicely please. It’s a date, not a football game.”

Eddie perked up, grinning ear to ear as he blushed dark red. “Y-yeah, okay.”

You walked off as he stood there in shock, completely forgetting about the big stain on your dress and waving bye, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

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reinedeslys-central · 4 months

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tbh I keep seeing the takes of ppl (and ballister) about ambrosius thinking he would kill the queen but not play freestyle jazz - and it totally makes sense and all with all the context -

BUT. I just wanna point out.

the look of indecision and shock/surprise on his face every time he sees bal after the incident, and even during the incident? the split second where he considers the other knights about to turn on him for knowing his partner best and steps up to lead the search saying 'before anyone gets hurt'? like say all you will (and I agree), but that scene to me reads exactly like someone trying to get to their lover first and protect them and prove their innocence before others can convict them sans trial (looking at you wangxian) OR, also, the realisation that you have to play it safe because the community has found out your lover is queer and the pitchforks are high, but you've always been the golden child / carrying a legacy, and you make the instinctive decision to stay safe for a multitude of reasons (after all, you can't shelter them by losing your rep too, can you? or so you think. same thing in the 'prom' teen-movie btw which is a whole thing to unpack on another day but this same theme is there!).

the first time he looks like he's against bal is after the director proclaims him leader of the search - and compared to his expressions all before then, it feels so much like a mask (mask-esque. not fake, just.. if you get what I mean? I don't really have the words this is just a brain vomit anyway, insert long discussion abt masks and conflicting emotions here ig) and it cracks immediately when he sees him breaking out of jail with nimona in the hallway. and honestly I'm down to give him a little slack after that because, comedically, he totally walked in RIGHT after ballister talked about murdering everyone, and then our boi didn't even manage to blurt out that he was innocent they just got caught up angstily staring at each other. which. :)

even in all the scenes that come after - yeah, definitely can see the totally-thought-he-was-the-killer-ambrosius-why-are-you-like-this angle. and i agree. bad moves all around, dude. but! my man lowering his crossbow in the market? I don't know about you but that doesn't look like a someone who's only holding back because he loves the target. that's a guy that looks unsure about the process the whole way through the scene. (bit of a stretch I know) and the thing that ties it together is the conversation with the director in the car. when he talks about feeling unsure of his legacy? the moment with the crowd and autograph? feeling like a traitor to his personal beliefs and the institution he was raised for? the hope, trying to discreetly make it to the car? it's all there, man. he's isolated from the only person that thinks differently, still outwardly pretending he's 100% with the institute's actions and lashing out with the things that still make sense and overlap with both mindsets.

yeah, ambrosius definitely messed up (ex. 1: arm-chopping as a love language of brainwashing omg pure gold) but? every step makes sense. i'd cut anyone a bit of slack for the doubt and wanting to reconcile their life when everything's turned on its head, especially after hearing bf in question saying he wants to murder everyone ^v^

and also i just. this movie is SO COOL for somehow touching on so many themes so core to so many peoples' experiences. TT y'all please go watch it it's free on yt until feb 26 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i4CFWTYFRlw

definitely going to read the comic as soon as I can - I know it's supposed to be way darker, more subtle, with an ambiguous ending but that's it, so excited to see the original spin on this story :))

#nimona #nimona 2023 #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #meta #thoughts #ballister x ambrosius #movies

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aropride · 1 year

Text

(using past tense because i don't see this type of art/comic around much anymore, tho im sure they still exist. using "body image" as shorthand for all the other stuff bc character limit lol. also i wanted to use a more neutral(?) word for "tucute" but i couldn't remember what we called ourselves at the time/if there was another word lmao. but y'all know what i mean)

(if at the time they were helpful but in retrospect were harmful, vote for the "negatively" option)

examples of these under the cut if you don't know what i'm talking about. warning for misgendering, transphobic, possibly dysphoria inducing caricatures of trans men.

[line break so tumblr doesn't eat the keep reading button]

(ID 1: art of a white feminine trans man. he has pink hair, is wearing makeup and a choker that says "boi," a flower in his hair, a shirt that says "kawaii," a pink skirt, and pink leggings with hearts on them. he has a large chest, a slim waist, and leg and armpit hair. he is surrounded by tumblr tags, mostly trans ones.)

(ID 2: a comic showing two white trans guys labelled "gnc trans guy" and "transtrender". the first has a short undercut with grown-out pink hair. he is wearing a pastel blue and pink shirt, grey shorts, and trans striped socks. his chest is flat and he is drawn with sharper features. the second has a slightly longer undercut and is wearing a tight pansexual pride crop top, a he/him pronoun pin, blue shorts, and rainbow socks. he has visible boobs, a slim waist, and is drawn with softer features. a list of what makes them either "really" trans or a "transtrender" according to the artist is next to each person.)

(ID 3: a comic showing two trans guys. one is titled "this is damian. damian is a trans man. he is an average looking brown man with short brown hair and facial hair. he has a sweater on and is wearing jeans. a speech bubble says "i just want to live my life like everyone else". the other person is titled "this is skye. skye wants to be a trans boy, but she's just a cis girl who needs to feel special." skye has a blue undercut and a pink clip in his hair. he is wearing a galaxy shirt and the straps of his binder are visible. he is wearing jeans. speech bubbles surrounding him read, "soft boy~," "space child! ❤️," "gender is a feeling," "you don't need to have dysphoria to be trans," "truscum don't interact," cisgender people are sooo boring!," and "I bought a binder so I'm a real trans boy!"

end image descriptions.)

#text

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signanothername · 1 year

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Villainous brothers AU masterpost

This is a masterpost for everything related to my villainous brothers au, from my own art and comics to the ref sheets to asks :D

———

Reference sheets

Raph

Leo

Donnie

Mikey

April

There’s a big possibility that imma make a ref for Splinter too

———

Art and comics

These are gonna be arranged from oldest to latest, I’ll also specify which character it’s about, and I’ll also specify if it’s related to each other in any way

Lab rat - Donnie centric (possible cw: a character strapped to a table, nothing beyond that)

Games with Mama - Leo centric

White lie - Mikey centeric

Death chess - Leo centric

Mikey’s joker arc - Mikey centric

Leo’s gift - Leo centric (TWs: blood, amputated limbs)

Perspective practice - turtles centric

Stranded lullaby - Mikey and Raph centric - related “Mikey’s joker arc”

Misplaced anger - Mikey centric

Protective twins - Leo and Donnie centric

Guilt filled painting - Mikey centric - related to “misplaced anger”

Starscream Leo, real????? - Leo centric

Starscream Leo part 2 cause yes -Leo centric

Pranks - turtles centric

Mikey with a kitty - Mikey centric

Guilt and apologies - Mikey and Raph centric - related to misplaced anger and Guilt filled painting

Solo mission - Mikey centric

Chaos - Donnie centric

Turtle sketches

———

VB Au asks - tagged with #VB asks

How did the turtles become villains in your villainess brothers au?

broski I LOVE your villainous brothers au I am eating it up like a starving child

does piebald exist in your villianous brothers au?

How do you think your evil versions of the turtles will interact with Casey Junior?

i was wondering if the villainous brothers au is still ongoing

———

VB-Ask the characters (closed)

Announcement post (plz read this first)

-Leo! How are you?

-Hello hello Donnie, when was the last time you drank H2O?

-To all: Have y'all pulled childish pranks on each other for fun and if so what is everyone's fav prank they have pulled?

-Raph are you ok?

-Hi! Can I ask them what's their favourite foods?

-yogurt is such a goofy ass favorite food.. 💀💀

-Ben Schwartz's choice for his last meal

-Donnie how many times have you tried to mutate april

-Hi Mikey! What are your favorite kind of snacks to have at your tea parties?

-Raph, why are you not smiling in the group photo!?

-How well do y'all get along with your brothers in your opinions?

-Leo, what do you like to do for fun, to relax?

-To all the turtles: do you guys have any hobbies you pursue in your down time if you ever have any?

-Out of curiosity, what kind of experiments or projects does Donnie have in the works?

-April how do you feel safe

-Does everyone still skate board?

-Can i hug you Mikey? :3

-So, how did the villainous brothers meet April? What kind of relationship(s) do they have with her?

-April who’s your favorite brother

-Who’s older April or Raph

-Would Mikey ever consider letting Leo attend his tea parties again? Is it like a perma-ban or a “You worried Raph so you’re in timeout” ban?

-What do Mikey's tea parties usually look like? Is there a normal teaparty or is there something more to them?

-insta ATC thingy

———

Fanart and others’ art related to VB

Amazing OC art by @/ legallyaweirdo - they drew their OC as if she was in my au :D

Memes done by @/ yourleastfavoriteguyinthechair

This beautiful artwork by @/ okaydokielemonquokey

An adorable artwork by @/ diona-98

#VB AU MASTERPOST REAL???????#villainous brothers au #villainous brothers au masterpost #masterpost #anothers art

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ignoremeimnothere · 11 months

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Meet Cute

Disclaimer I HATE the ending but I worked through a good few rewrites of this and I'm quite proud with how much it improved from the initial write. It's definitely still shit though. Have I sold it? Usually I can only dedicate one writing session to my stuff, wanting it gone as soon as possible but ya gal is on a mission and dedicated some days. Also sorry y'all but this is on the dark side TW: Death, Suicide and Attempted Suicide

3016 Word Count

You were finally done. It had been a decade of fighting to survive an apocalypse. You wouldn’t have made it two minutes if it hadn’t been for your older brother Arthur who had protected you through it all. It was him who had gotten you both out of the initial chaos, who gave you tough love when you wanted to succumb, had taught you the basics of how to win a fight and to keep yourself fed.

Surviving an apocalypse took unimaginable acts. Arthur taught you this lesson. He was more familiar with violence, having done a stint in the Gulf War. You were the opposite, more on the sensitive side and originally a little hippie-ish. You knew he would always protect you but he also forced you to get your hands bloody early on, you didn't have a choice. Very quickly though you learned that survival requires violence. It was almost comical how simple an apocalypse made life seem sometimes. Hunt the animal or starve. Keep running or get caught. Kill or be killed.

After hiding in Arthur’s shadows for your entire childhood, your adolescence ragged you out. Now in womanhood you stood beside him. Armed, angry and ready.

Modern requirements of survival meant going on raids. Rations had now completely run out and what followed would be a scavenge in the next town you found. Your stomach ached, it had been days of running on empty. The daze from going for weeks without a good night's sleep helped to ease the pain.

The relief of entering a new town relaxed the muscles in your limbs. Rows of houses that looked frozen in time. The only thing out of place were the smashed windows and rotting wood. You’d be lucky if there was anything left but you felt good about the place. The further you got into the neighbourhood the more you noticed how much it mimicked the quiet neighbourhood you had both grown up in.

The first few homes were bare. After a decade of raids you could do this dance in your sleep. Silent, guns aimed, thinking ahead and watching your backs. It was lawl to clear each room of any danger before allowing someone to start rummaging. By the sixth home the brick walls began to look like safety. You hadn’t seen a soul for miles and nothing seemed out of place since you had arrived.

‘I need a slash’ Arthur’s announcement broke down the last of your act.

You rolled your eyes moving into the new house alone. Your new found nonchalance took you through the kitchen noisily. The desperation to find something in the cupboards required your full agility, convincing you to shed your pack onto the kitchen table. Nothing in the overhead cupboards, not so much as a crumb in the bottom ones. Slamming the cupboards was meant to make you feel better but did it fuck.

Patience was a virtue you didn't have a lot of. With Arthur still missing the temptation to stomp up each stair was too strong to resist. Though black and blue, you still had some feeling in your feet. A pair of socks that weren’t missing huge holes of fabric was something you could kill for. Wiggling your feet it became apparent how badly you wanted a thick pair. Hopefully you’d be in luck, socks were not the highest demand of raiders. You had to leave this place with something at least.

The first bedroom had been a bust, despite it clearly having belonged to a young child you hadn’t the heart to not at least check. You were only onto the third drawer when you thought you heard something. It couldn’t be. A knot began to tighten in your gut nonetheless. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you began to feel your heart beating. Silence returned.

History taught you to always trust your instinct. A silent prayer crossed your mind, the carpeted room allowing you to return to the threshold silently. A scan of the hallway detected nothing new. If you could punch yourself you would, Arthur was still outside. Your pack was discarded on the dining table and- FUCK. Your hand ghosted your belt missing the cool metal of your gun. Your breath hitched at the realisation causing a stir from one of the adjacent rooms. You watched with bated breath unsure whether to bolt down stairs or stay as still as you could. Try as you might, the tremble in your arms prevailed. Another commotion came from the room, you made to run but the sound of clicking stopped you in your tracks.

Fuck.

It had been a while since you had seen one. Staying in the country for a few months meant that humans were the only monsters you had to worry about. You had thought. You heard it make its way to the door. It's screeching growing more urgent. You didn't dare step back, not even when it jerked from behind the door and into view. Confronted with the monster you could see that it was relatively fresh, the human form still noticeable. The face of a middle aged woman peeked out amongst the fungus. Racking your brain you rationalised that it wouldn’t be as strong as one that had fully turned, and you had killed those before, alone even. You just needed your gun. The painful reminder that you had left it downstairs made your face flush.

The clickers body contorted, another step and you would have been able to get a clean shot. Your head began to spin with rage. You felt like a fucking idiot, no clue how to manage the situation you had put yourself into. Holding still seemed to buy you time, now would be the best moment to conjure a plan. This thing had been a middle aged woman once, you were a strong fighter, you could take it down if needs be. Bash its skull in. Yeah you had a chance.

The sound of the front door creaking open downstairs turned your blood cold. You’d hoped the thick tension would have seeped out of the house as a warning to him. Erupting into chaos the clicker moved frantically bolting for the staircase.

‘RUN’ You scream as a warning.

You lunged after it. Your brother's panicked eyes met yours for a split second before the clicker threw itself down the staircase, screaming as it fell directly onto him.

‘GUN. GUN.’ Arthur roared as he struggled to wrestle with death.

You lunged down after it, leaping past to find your weapon discarded on the table like a fucking pair of house keys. Adrenaline shook your whole body and a scream clawed out your throat in frustration as you struggled to cock the gun. You knew you had to get close to make sure you didn’t shoot Arthur, he had to stay alive. You returned in a matter of seconds, but that's all it took. Trusting he taught you well Arthur growled as he struggled to shove the fucker off him, battling for distance in order to give you a clear shot. You began to shoot, firing repeatedly until it released its grip. Once you saw Arthur was free you hauled it away from him instantly before smashing its head in with the handle of the gun. Again and again and again until the head became mush.

The sound of your blood pumping was deafening. It took you some time before you could hear Arthur’s voice but it was only when he shouted your name did you realise he had been calling you. Your sight remained on the lifeless creature sprawled across the floorboards. How fucking stupid could you be, how dead could you be if it hadn’t been for him, was another one close by? You jumped off of it, looking for your pack that was left in the kitchen.

‘We’ve got to go," you spoke.

You heard your name called in a tone that stopped your frenzy but it had to be repeated before you had the courage to look his way. Arthur was sat up, hand holding his neck.

‘Move your hand’ You commanded to see what he was poorly holding.

He moved slowly revealing a bite mark. The earth stood still in the time it took to hit you. You doubled over as if you had been kicked in the gut. A retch burst out of your mouth

‘Listen to me.’ Arthur spoke to you in the same tone he had the night the world erupted into chaos.

‘No, no no no no’. You went dizzy, the horrors of the past decade flashing through your mind.

He called your name again. ‘It’s ok, you're ok. I need you to listen to me.’

A sob broke out of your chest as you met his eye. This side of Arthur was not one you saw often. He had his tough side where your feelings were irrelevant to him, practicality was the priority. His compassionate side, where he let you cry, and entertained your sorrows. He only allowed them to overlap in moments like this. Moments where your life was about to change and you needed to be guided.

‘You know how to hunt,’

‘Arthur I can’t’ You sounded like a child.

‘You know how to hunt. You know how to fight. You know how to camp.’ He spoke matter of factly. You shook your head squinting your eyes shut. ‘I’m sorry’ His voice quivered, the first time you’d ever heard him do it. He swallowed quickly in an attempt to regain composure. ‘You need to stay alive. You need to head north. That town, Jackson, it must be real. You’ve got to find it. You can survive without me.

‘Arthur I can’t -’ Your voice breaks again ‘- not without you’.

Arthur pulls you into him, squeezing you as tight as he possibly can without breaking your bones, your grip on him just as tight.

‘You can, I need you to. I Love you stink.’ He hesitates for a moment. ‘You need to keep moving.’

You pull back, feeling him reach for something. He moves his attention to the gun, your gun, now in his hands. He takes a deep breath before checking the barrel. You sit and watch him unable to detach yourself from the moment. One bullet left, you could almost laugh.

‘You know I have to’ He speaks to you again, as though you were the same twenty year old who had to grow up fast when the world changed. You knew it too. You wanted to talk to him, trap him in a conversation forever, a constant evasion of what was staring you in the face.

‘I love you," Was all you could choke out, you grabbed him, yanking him in as close as you could.

He repeated the phrase, returning your embrace. He began to rock you as you shook. There was no way of telling how much time had passed but forever wouldn't have lasted as long as you needed it to. He took your face in his and kissed the crown of your head. You could feel the heat burning through his hands as sweat started glistening on his forehead. A weight swallowed your shoulders as his leather jacket was wrapped around you. Taking your trembling hands in his he put his gloves over yours, giving what he could to ensure your safety.

Your body began to rack with sobs as denial and grief engulfed you. Swallowing another lump Arthur promptly got up off the floor and grabbed the ankles of the monster that had destroyed your life twice. You heard him dragging it out of the house, heard him hesitate before the snow crunched underneath his boots, until they were out of earshot. You went quiet, holding your breath waiting for your brother to reappear in front of you. Hope ruined when you heard the distant gunshot.

~~~~~~~

That had been three days ago. You hadn’t found the strength to move from that house, all you had really done was cry and sleep. The hunger pains in your stomach had abandoned you, and in a weird way they made you feel more alone. You had debated your next step since your brother told you to continue. Grief had sucked you into its black hole instead and it took until now to have a revelation.

You simply didn’t want to go on. Your only real purpose in life had become keeping your brother safe, whether or not you ever really had to was another question. That purpose had vanished in the space of a second, and it was your fault. The world was still black and white though. If you let your guard down, you’ll suffer. If you don’t protect your brother, he’ll die. If you don’t want to carry on, dont.

The obvious solution had taken this long to reach you. Logistically it was tricky, you had run out of ammunition, and there was no way you were going to collect your weapon anyway. It would take a bit more effort and courage. The house had a garage which you had searched, not expecting to find much but to your surprise there was a lot of random shit in there. It didn’t take you long to search for something you could use, rope.

You set straight to work. You thought of your next steps instantly, seeing clearly for the first time in months. There were wooden beams across the ceiling in the kitchen, you laughed. Some middle class house wifes dream home had given you the perfect escape route. You sat down to focus on tying the rope, you forgot the name of it but the memory of your brother showing you a range of knots flashed through your mind. A stabbing pain in your heart returned, it had been tormenting you since becoming alone. The tears begin again as you throw the rope over the beam, securing it. A few tugs left the trap intact. You were not wanting to waste any time, dragging the kitchen chair in place. It had rotted like most of the furniture, you just prayed it wouldn’t give way before you had gotten in position.

You felt a harsh chill rush through the room. Hopefully this would be quick, painless, and would take you away from here. Your adrenaline had returned and with it the deafening ruckus in your ears. You could almost taste the relief. You reached up to grab the rope, the tremble in your arms now completely gone.

‘HEY’ A shrill voice calls from behind.

The voice of unexpected company causes your head to whip around. It took a moment for your swollen eyes to focus, A small girl with rosy cheeks and eyes brimming with tears returns your gaze. She struggles to spit out what she’s trying to say. The complication of how to word her question etched on her crinkled expression. Her body jolted with distress.

‘What?’ It came out softly. A step above lifeless.

She took your curiosity as an offering of help, prompting her to take a breath.

‘Help. Help to get him in here.’ With that she disappeared from view.

You followed her tentatively. Her desperation pulls you back into reality, with the same urgency of a child dragging their parents to a park. In the hallway, lying in the same spot you had lost your brother was an older looking man. He wore a flannel under his cargo jacket and jeans Sweat glistened across his forehead despite the icy conditions. When his eyes met yours frustration washed over his face.

‘Ellie’ Calling her name winds him and his whole body tenses.

The girl he named busies herself with ripping up a rag she had grabbed from the kitchen. She lifts his shirt haphazardly and shoves it into his wound. He instinctively grabs her arm with force before peeling himself off her. Eyes returning to yours.

‘Joel I dont know what the fuck to do’ She shouts pushing deeper into his stomach.

You don't know what to do either, but watching the girl freak out shocks you into taking over. Your grief threatens to suffocate you, as you wish you could trade places with these strangers. Wish it could be you begging for help with Arthur who had a wound that didn’t mean certain death. Instead you took another gulp of air and wordlessly bent down to Joel. You put your hands over Ellie’s, causing the man to tense again. You avoid his glaring eyes as you inspect the wound. He’d been stabbed by the looks of it. Too big and shallow to be a knife. You return the compression that is helping to stop the bleeding.

‘My Pack, there’s a thread and needle in the zipper’ Ellie returns to the room you gestured to.

Joel grabs your arm, demanding you to meet his eye. You do and he studies your face for a moment. You were still struggling to focus with how puffed and sore they were. A blank expression remained painted on you. His lips purse as he tries to speak. He doesn't manage to form a word, and you watch as exhaustion washes over him. The lines in his forehead ease as he watches between you and Ellie through the doorway behind. As you feel Ellie return to your side, Joel is out like a light.

She holds the requested items right in front of your face silently begging you to save the man she was trying to save. You'd have thought it was her dad if she hadn’t addressed him by name. Her expression relaxed slightly, relieved to share the burden of responsibility. She shoves the items at you again, silently asking for you to do something now. You take them from her, the bulletproof plan you were conducting mere minutes ago now the furthest thing in your mind. Your way out could wait. Right now, you were here and you were gonna try your damned hardest to help this girl keep her partner.

#requests open #pedro pascal #pedro pascal drabble #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #ellie williams #tlou #death tw #depression tw #Joel miller dark fic #joel miller fic

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