#came to me in a vision on the bus and i had to draw it but im also busy so

[camelspit]

how sophie can still be on the cover

@skylilac @callas-pancake-tree @arson-anarchy-death @steal-nightmares-leave-dreams @neverseen-nevermore @abubble125 @purplesoup-lad-le @gay-otlc @thefoxysnake @keeper-of-the-lost-dadwin @ravs6709 @corruption-exe @kamikothe1and0nly @that-glasses-dog @presidentroarie @even-if-in-another-time @nyxpixels @slozhnos @katniss-elizabeth-chase @sofia-not-sophie @moontoastt @three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat @purpleunicycle @just-a-honey-badger @loverofallthingssmart @antisocialdork @tamsong @cutebisexualmess @tastetherainbow290 @myfairkatiecat @famousinfamous @kale-of-the-forbidden-cities @tw-5 @squishmallow36 @iggydancebreak @cosmxc-ars3hol3

#SORRY GUYS this is so rushed 😭😭😭 #came to me in a vision on the bus and i had to draw it but im also busy so #probably going 2 disappear for another 2 weeks lmao #kotlc #kotlc fanart #keefe sencen #unraveled #kotlc unraveled #sophie foster #sokeefe

[queerponcho]

Transfixed | part 1

collage made by me with pictures from pinterest

moonknight!system x female!reader

a/n: been writing this fic for about a year now so it's nerve-wrecking to finally post the first chapter. I hope you'll like it!! (pls be gentle...)

thanks to the lovely @nexusnyx for motivating me a few weeks ago, would've never considered posting without having our convo the other day!! Thank you so much<33

Warnings: no use of Y/N, fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, (eventual smut, the chapters will be marked individually), inaccurate depictions of DID, egyptian mythology and religion (although I did extensive research I took liberty in changing some things to adhere to my plot...), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!

Summary: You're a woman who as been visiting the same library for all your life. One day a handsome new face comes walking in. That's the moment when the ball starts rolling and your entire life changes. Will you accept the new challanges coming your way...?

2,200 words

You have been visiting the same library all your life. While you were in school you  would go there to have a quiet place to study. Since at home you always had a lot of family and busy energy around, you needed the library as sort of an...escape from all the noise. Later when you got into university, the library had become kind of a safe space for you. So you would rather sit in the bus for half an hour to and back to study there instead of the grimy and packed library on campus.

Even now that you work and have enough books at home to basically open your own library, you still can't part from your little paradise. Everyone knows you here and a few months ago the owners of the library even adopted a cat that seemed to really like you. So chances of moving on from here had definitely been ruined.

You loved reading all kinds of story based books, but spending so much time here made you curious, so you also picked up a few skill based ones. you had read a few gardening and science books but the ones you would actually start applying were the books that had to-do with art. Autobiographies of different artists and painters, different studies and research on colour and brushes. You became almost a bit obsessed at some point. So you started sketching and drawing things around you based on the knowledge you'd gathered from your extensive research. you would draw people around the library after work or before meeting friends in the nearby café. You'd never claim to be an artist but you were proud of your drawings nonetheless. for the past few weeks you had started to draw one very specific person. You saw them for the first time a bit over a month ago…

It was a rainy day and you'd just finished lunch with a friend. You said goodbye and you decided to head to the library to continue on with your sketches of the cute ginger kitten. After saying hello to the owners and giving the kitten a treat, you made your way to your usual corner in the back. Since the library wasn't very big you had a good view of the entrance and a few tables. you'd been sitting and drawing for about ten minutes when you noticed the kitten smelling your coat pocket in search of more treats. You smiled down at her 'hiiii kitty!' you picked her up and placed her on your little round table. 'you want another treat huh?' She looked back with big shiny eyes 'alright alright...there you go'. She happily chewed on the fish-shaped cookie while you continued drawing her. 

The familiar noise of the door opening caught your attention....a man came in, he was wearing a brown flat-cap which was obscuring your vision of his face. He reached to take it off with a gloved hand and pushed his black curls back to reveal the face, of what you could only describe, a Greek god. He had strong and angular features, a sharp jawline and a beautiful slightly crooked nose which you felt the need to trace over with your finger. He had crows feet decorating his eyes, you'd assume he had them from laughing but seeing his resting facial expression, smiling almost seemed to be a foreign task to him. He brushed the remaining rain off his shoulders and made his way to the history section. When he disappeared behind a shelf you were brought back from your trance and took the first breath in what seemed like minutes. 

You wondered what he would be looking for in the history section of this old library. You were in London, a place with alot of people, then again this library was old and in a secluded part of town so it was usually the same people walking in and out. You would definitely remember his face if you had seen it before. Whatever it was that he was looking for he had apparently found since he was making his way to the register with a thick leather bound book in his glove covered hand. You had a bit of a thing for hands and you knew you'd be sketching hands for the next few hours because of this stranger. He hastily left the library and was gone as fast and suddenly as he appeared. After that day you couldn't stop drawing that pretty stranger, you'd given him multiple names during this time. His name had been Jack, Edward, Steve, Malcom and many more. you'd started just drawing his gloved hands and his forearms but quickly you would switch to drawing his intense gaze and soft curls. The amount of times you fantasised about running your fingers through them and tugging slightly had you embarrassed. It had been weeks since you'd seen him and you wouldn't stop imagining him in your apartment just sitting next to you, sometimes you would also imagine him a bit closer and wearing a little less clothing…

A month had passed since you'd seen him and you finally managed to stop drawing him and went back to drawing people around the library. Though you still looked up when the door opened and a new customer came in hoping for your handsome stranger to come in and maybe stay a little this time so you could find out more about him and his movements, for drawing references of course...nothing else. It seemed the universe wanted to help you out, because the next time the bell chimed and a customer walked in, the familiar brown flat-cap wearing stranger entered. This time it was warm and sunny outside so he wasn't wearing any gloves and wore a white fitted polo. His muscles were visibly moving underneath the fabric of his sleeves when he reached up to take off his hat and ruffle through his hair with the same intention as last time. He was also holding the same thick leather bound book from his last visit to the library.

 According to the owners he couldn't buy that one since it was rare literature, so he got to borrow it for a month...you knew this because you may have asked about him and his purchase after he left. This was also when you found out that the book he borrowed was about an Egyptian god. During your time in this library you have read books on Egyptian history and it did peak your interest. All this time you’d never even noticed that book before? Recently, you’d been spending a lot more time studying in that part of the library, so overseeing such a unique looking book was very strange of you.

You see him talking to the owners, it was quiet enough to make out parts of the conversation. It was 10am on a Tuesday so you were pretty much the only customer here. He had a pretty strong Latin accent and you were pretty sure he was from mexico. part of your family is from south America so you grew up learning Spanish and you remember hearing them speak English with that exact same accent. 

He was thanking them for the book and asking if he could take a look around the library again. The owners kindly told him to go ahead and that he didn't even need to ask. He briefly nodded his head mumbling a quick 'gracias' and went over to the history section. You watched intently and spontaneously decided to head in the same direction. You felt a bit creepy lurking on this man but you were sure you wouldn't get caught since you were rarely a very visible person. it's not that you didn't have a strong presence but you know how to blend in really well and when to use that to your advantage. You hid behind the shelf of the history section facing his profile. He really was a pretty man, his eyes were squinting and his bold eyebrows furrowed. There was a stray curl hanging over them and you badly wanted to brush it back and feel his thick hair between your fingers...you couldn't of course, since you were too preoccupied drawing him at the moment. The window was creating beautiful shadows beneath his hooded eyes and high cheekbones. His jaw looked sharper than ever and his neck extremely kissable. His lips needed an honourable mention, they were like two squishy pillows that were begging to be bitten. You've been paying special interest to them and trying to get the details just right, so you didn't notice that he had moved from his previous spot. 

You couldn't see him anywhere and were actually kind of disappointed to think he probably left. you were about to turn around and go back to your discarded belongings when you accidentally bumped into someone while moving backwards. 'ohssshit! i- i am so so sorry um- i didn't mean to wal-'

you had managed to pick up your pencil, sketchbook, and hopefully all of the scattered pages- when you finally looked up just to be faced with the god-like looking man you had been fawning over for a month now. he was practically towering over you and… was that a smirk? If you weren't already kneeling on the floor right now you would've probably lost your balance. 'hola~ I don't mind this view but do you need help standing up, muñeca?' This is when you realised that you were on your knees in front of the most attractive man you have ever seen and you quickly scrambled to your feet 'nono um thank you-' 

'Jake, my name's Jake' he stuck out his hand and you introduced yourself after thanking him again. So his name was jake...huh pretty basic for a man like him. You were kind of joking when you temporarily gave him very basic names but you guess his parents weren't much more creative than you are. 

You realised you were staring when he raised his left eyebrow and started grinning.

 'So...why were you spying on me?' He asked cockily and it had you word-vomiting all over the place 'what? i wasn't-? I-I was just…drawing-?' pretty hard to sound convincing when finishing every statement with a question mark... 'yeah I know-' he looked you up and down and coming a bit closer 'I saw you get lost in your notebook and I just had to come see what you are drawing that garnered all of your precious attention, hermosa' 

The nicknames were really starting to get to you, making you feel all sweaty and nervous. you were clenching the book to your chest accidentally pushing up your breasts and making your cleavage much more noticeable. you saw him glancing down, taking his time in bringing his eyes back up your neck and finally to your face. This entire time you were basically pressed into his chest, you were leaning on the shelf and he didn't seem like he wanted to move anytime soon 'h-how long were you looking over my shoulder exactly?'

 'Long enough to see what had you so...como se dice...transfixed' Your breath hitched and he answered with a toothy grin. 

'I am flattered, preciosa. I really am, didn't think someone as pretty as you would follow me around the library just to draw my hands and ass' 

You push him back- 'I did NOT draw your ass! I-' You were interrupted by his chuckle and him moving closer again and grabbing your chin between his fingers and caging you in with his other arm. 'I know muñeca , I just like seeing you flustered...toda nerviosilla...it's cute.' At this point you’ve decided it's best if you just don't speak. '...maybe next time you can draw me shirtless? I would love to see you solely focused on my abs for half an hour.' He flashes you a toothy grin. Oh he’s getting too cocky…somehow you manage to move away from the bookshelf, momentarily getting even closer to him. After seeing his eyes flicker with surprise you move to the side, backing away from him. Turn around finally being able to take a breath of normal air that wasn't deliciously tinted with his aftershave. 

'Sure, next time you can waltz into the library without a shirt on and we will see how far you get before being kicked out' you say while looking over your shoulder. 

 'Seeing your reaction would be worth it, nena' he called after you, not even registering your feet carrying you back to your corner. you took a deep breath replaying what just happened. He should not have this effect on you, it's almost embarrassing how easily he got so close to you. You are a grown woman, damnit! How did you not shove him away and get mad at his advances? You should be creeped out but you notice how you’re wishing to bump into him again soon...you hear the doorbell ring and see him walk out. He takes one look back and holds up a piece of paper. ‘Oh fuck me’ you feel your feet glued to the floor when you see what it is…its a drawing you made of him. It was a closeup of his torso upwards. You had drawn him from above and he was laying in your bed with heavy lidded eyes and parted lips. you were absolutely mortified- he was grinning like an idiot and winked at you before storing the drawing in his back pocket, crossing the street and vanishing from your eye-line. leaving you in the library, plagued by his stupid masculine scent and his dumb pretty face.

a/n: I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter, I've got a few already locked and loaded sooo the next one should be posted soon. Pls like and reblog if you liked it<3 it would mean the world!

part two

#ponchosworks<3 #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #marc spector #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #transfixedseries

[oddree13]

To Find a Kiss of Yours

[Read on AO3]

Steve remembers his first Valentine's Day. He was in first grade and spent the day prior decorating a shoebox to act as a makeshift mailbox. The next day the class had a party where all the cards were passed out, but throughout the gathering, girls came up to give him extra candy. One girl even kissed him on the cheek and ran off. 

Steve felt butterflies in his stomach for the first time that day and decided Valentine’s wasn’t all that bad. 

As the years went on, Steve looked forward to the holiday for reasons beyond extra candy. February 14 was used to fill the void of affection his parents were slowly taking from him.

And once Steve started middle school, and class-wide valentines were no longer mandatory, he realized the holiday was different for him than other boys. He’d get more cards and candy than some of his friends, and in seventh grade, a girl pulled Steve aside to let him know how much she liked him. Steve only knew the girl because they shared a couple of classes, but figured he should be polite and ask her out. After all, that is what all the boys around him would do. 

Years later Robin would unpack just how wrong this was to do. 

In short, Steve always looked forward to Valentine's Day and even kept a box under his bed where he kept his favorites - the standouts among the mass-printed, store-bought postcards that were delivered to Steve with a personal touch.

When he started Hawkins High a part of him was nervous that one of his steady sources of affection would dry up, but Steve found the exact opposite. The school encouraged the holiday by allowing students to send each other candy-grams and flowers throughout the day. Even among the students, there was a buzz. In the days leading up to V-day, photocopied maps of lockers would be passed around where people could write their friend’s name on it, in the hopes that it would encourage more personal gifts and confessions. 

In his four years at Hawkins High Steve’s name always made it on the map before he could write it. 

During his freshman year, Steve gets more than a few candy-grams in homeroom, prompting Tommy and Carol to tease him as they steal his candy. 

In between classes, he takes more trips than usual to his locker to collect the cards and notes left for him. Some are signed, some are just a phone number with a name and a lipstick print. Steve can’t help but get high off the constant reminders of want as the day goes on.

Needing to kill time before the bus towards Loch Nora arrives, Steve heads to his locker after basketball practice. Sure it could have waited until morning, but Steve’s never been a patient man. 

Inside his locker are a few more notes, but among the pink and pastels that have filled his vision all day, the crimson card stands out. He opens the front flap to find the card is actually an origami note, and not wanting to rip it, carefully unfolds the missive. 

His eyes are immediately pulled to the drawing at the bottom: a half-sun and half-moon face on a backdrop of stars. His eyes then wander up to the note to find not a letter, but a short poem - 

Some people say my love cannot be true Please believe me, my love, and I'll show you I will give you those things you thought unreal The sun, the moon, the stars all bear my seal

It takes Steve a few times to read it to get the gist of the meaning, and he can’t help but blush. Either the writer is talented or she copied someone. Either way, Steve knows this is making it into his special box. Before folding it back Steve’s eyes searched the page for a name or phone number, only to find a small “E” at the corner of the note. 

Steve spends the rest of the week wracking his brain for all the girls in his class and even the year above whose name starts with an E, even going so far as to approach a few of them. 

When he gets no answer other than a few dates he puts it out of his mind. 

*

Sophomore year is almost an identical repeat of the year before. Candygrams were delivered and stolen by Tommy and Carol. Notes stuffed in his locker, getting more lascivious as the day goes on. It seems his reputation preceded him, and there are more than a few propositions in letter form.

And just like the year before there is a crimson note waiting for him after practice. Steve wasn’t even anticipating the note, figuring it was a one-off from the year prior. But seeing it sitting on top of his books, Steve can’t help but ignore all the other letters and notes in favor of opening another message from E.

Like last time there’s a drawing, this time of a detailed headstone citing a kiss as the cause of death, the skull atop bearing a lip print. And just like the year before is a poem - 

To find a kiss of yours what would I give A kiss that strayed from your lips dead to love

Steve restarts his attempts to find E, only this time he goes for a more subtle approach, flirting with instead of confronting any girl whose name starts with the offending letter. 

It doesn’t end with Steve solving the mystery but does end with Steve going on dates with Elizabeth, Evelyn, Emily, and Erin. 

*

The Valentines of his junior year is an interesting one. Sure he’s been dating Nancy for almost three months now, but that doesn’t stop some very ambitious girls from sending candy and cards his way. He details each gift to Nancy as the day goes on because that's what a good boyfriend would do, right? And sure, he wishes Nancy would look more perturbed, but all he gets is small kisses on his cheek with her saying they can use the candy as dessert when she makes him dinner this weekend. 

The only thing Steve keeps to himself though is his hope for a third crimson note.

Sure Steve hasn’t gotten any luck with finding out who the sender is. And even if he did find out this year he couldn’t act on it. But there's something about the effort that Steve craves. That someone cares enough about Steve to write, draw, and fold the letter each year. 

And just like the years prior the note is there, drawing and all.

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well That, for all they care, I can go to hell, But on earth indifference is the least We have to dread from man or beast.   How should we like it were stars to burn With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me.   Admirer as I think I am Of stars that do not give a damn, I cannot, now I see them, say I missed one terribly all day.   Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky And feel its total dark sublime, Though this might take me a little time.

Not only is this year's poem longer, but the drawing also intrigues Steve. The picture is of a winged man, gazing up at the words written above him with an almost longing expression, while flames dance at his feet. Steve can’t help but examine the detail that went into the drawing, and even blushes at how handsome he is. 

So the next day when Nancy drags him to the library to study, he sneaks away to ask the librarian if she recognizes the poem (without showing her the note). She walks him over to the poetry section and hands him a collection of British poetry, turning to the section on W.H. Auden. 

Steve reads a brief description of the poem, about the unrequited love between the poet and the stars. He bitterly thinks that this love might not be unrequited if he could figure out who his secret admirer was. 

Years later Steve would realize two things - Indiana public school books didn't care to mention that W.H. Auden was gay and that he really should have looked at the checkout card inside the book cover.

* 

Steve contemplates staying home for the last Valentine's Day of his high school career. He's certain he won't get any grams now that he’s fallen from grace and taken no steps to climb back up. 

But despite how obnoxious sharing court with Hargrove is, basketball practice is the only thing keeping him sane as he counts down the days till graduation. 

Steve didn't even mean to go back to his locker that day not wanting to be disappointed by the lack of a crimson note. But he needs his notes to study for chemistry, and as he pulls out the binder the crimson letter falls to the floor. 

Steve can't help the way his heart clenches at the sight. How such a simple thing can remind him why he loves his holiday so much? 

He then figures that the sender. Must be someone in his grade if they've kept these notes coming all four years. 

Passing stranger! You do not know how longingly I look upon you, You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,) I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you, All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured, You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me , I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only, You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return, I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Steve sinks onto the floor as he reads the poem over and over again. He can't help but smirk at how the bits about girls are stricken through, but also that it's a farewell of sorts. It leaves Steve with a bittersweet feeling to know he'll never find out the sender's identity. 

* 

Over piles of discount candy in 1986, Steve shares with Robin the details of the crimson notes tucked under his bed. Robin can't help but laugh as she looks through them pointing out to Steve how fucking homo erotic all the poems are. 

After a bit of denial, Steve finally admits that Robin may be right and kicks himself for only searching for girls back when he was in high school. Realizing he didn't bother to get a copy of the yearbook he asks Robin if he can come one day to search the pages at her house for clues. But a few weeks later literal hell breaks loose and he forgets all about it

Part of Steve wishes he actually bothered to get a copy of the yearbook so he could search the pages, but a few weeks later literal hell breaks loose and he forgets all about it

*

It's February 1987 and Steve is wondering how he's spending Valentine's Day Eve cleaning up his kitchen after the party wraps their D&D session for the night. 

Eddie is helping him tidy as he recounts how on the ride over to Steve's, Dustin was explaining how nervous he was about his radio date with Suzie the next day wanting to do something special but not cheesy. 

“I told him he should recite some poetry and he told me that's lame,” Eddie says in a way that expresses their mutual frustration with Henderson. 

“It's not lame. If it's done right,” Steve agrees. 

“The little shit then told me that metal lyrics don't count as poetry and I told him that I know more than just metal lyrics.” 

Steve can't help but look amused and gestures for Eddie to regale him with a poem. 

Eddie clears his throat and begins, “To find a kiss of yours what I would give…”

“A kiss that strayed from your lips...dead to love,” Steve finishes unthinking. After all, he read those words hundreds of times. 

That's when it clicks for Steve. The E written in the corner of all those notes stood for Eddie. 

Eddie's eyes catch Steve's and he visibly swallows. His complexion pails and he looks like he's about to run for it, but Steve sputters out his confession. 

“I kept them all.” 

Eddie's eyes widened even further at that as if he couldn't believe what Steve was saying.

“You did?”

“Yeah. Want to see them? They're in my room.”

“That's quite a line, Harrington”

“Well not all of us can be poets.”

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #myfics #valentines day #secret admirer #stranger things fic #steddie fic

[mx-julien]

weird little guy Jay was a little too bright and clever and inventive as a kid, for most people. Ed and Edna loved it, of course, but other kids at his school and other adults he talked to weren't sure what to do with him. from his personality in the pilot, it seems like he's not used to others liking him

it's a common issue for any kid (especially ND kids) with a strong sustained interest in something. using my credentials *gestures to childhood* I will hypothesize what Jay's social life growing up might've looked like:

a curly little mop of auburn hair ran home from the bus stop, waving a messy technical drawing and yelling. Ed lifted up his welding hood, "what's goin' on, Jay?"

"Dad! Dad! I know how to- how to make-" Jay plopped down next to his dad, sending a little puff of dirt into the air, "I know how to make it go smooth! we use ball bearings!"

"kiddo you're exactly right- but first you gotta drop your backpack by the house and tell your Mom about school," Ed went to pull his hood down," and I'm nearly done with this, okay? we can get started right after"

"make sure you look at these," Jay carefully flattened his wide ruled notebook paper with hastily done technical drawings, using some nearby scrap to hold each corner down, "I explained everything here," pointing to a mass of scribbles, "okay?" peering up at his Dad, Jay's curls obstructed more of his vision.

"I promise, kiddo," Ed patted his son's fluffy head, "you worked real hard on them."

beaming, Jay slung his backpack on and ran back to the house bent down partway with both arms extended behind him. kids, Ed shook his head with a smile, always finding ways to do new silly things

~*~

excited shouts were a regular occurrence at the Walker home, Jay frequently came back from school with new insights and ideas to tell them. since his latest project was with Ed, Edna got to talk to Jay about everything else. they switched off so that one of them got to spend hours with their son while the other took care of most of the business and cleaning.

speaking of her son, the trailer door rattled before flinging open, "Mom!" Jay ran over to give her a hug at the kitchen sink, where she was doing dishes.

"hi dear, how was school today?"

"good. I drew for me and dad's project and we did some more multiplying and I'm really good at it" he rattled off more activities as he pulled out his lunchbox and homework for that day.

everything he talked about involved teachers and classwork. Jay only mentioned other kids when they commented on his drawings or played with him at recess, which was not as common as they would've liked. when she and Ed last met with his teacher, she remarked on how bright Jay was and that he loved speaking to all of his teachers- even at recess and during lunch.

he had friends, but most of them didn't talk to him as much at school as they did when they came over. she could tell Jay was trying very hard to not take it personally, but he was just a child.

it wasn't malicious, of course, the other kids weren't trying to be cruel- they wanted to have a lot of friends and Jay wasn't joining the other kids at recess; he found sticks and things to make little cars and catapults. no one could keep up with him and he never cared to race the cars or use the catapults to hit things. he just wanted to make them better and better.

he is so similar her and Ed were as children: bit with the invention bug and always pushing towards making everything better than it was before. except Jay didn't have a close friend to share that with. he asked her once, in between sobs, why everyone else had a best friend except him. it broke her heart, knowing that Jay felt that everyone was friendly with him, but not friends with him.

"Mom, can you help me with math tonight? I need to practice my multiplication tables up to 12"

Jay's request pulled her back to the present. taking a beat, she made sure he wouldn't be able to read the sadness she felt, "of course, dear, I'd love to," smiling, she ruffled his curls and glanced at the kitchen table. all his homework was in a neat stack, he'd emptied out what was left in his lunchbox, and set the tupperware onto the countertop. her son was bouncing up and down on his toes, waiting for her permission to run outside.

Edna bent down, taking Jay's head in her hands and placing a light kiss on his forehead, "good job, dear, and thank you for unpacking everything. make sure you take a glass of water out for your father and come in once the sun goes down, okay?"

"okay!" making a mad dash for the door, Jay suddenly diverted to grab the glass, and then started a more careful walk over to Ed, valiantly trying to not spill a drop.

their precious son would find his people, she was sure of it. and in the meantime, she and Ed would be here for him.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ed and edna #ed walker #edna walker #jay walker #jay angst #kinda?? #jay's childhood is a little sad but not completely #inspired by Real EventsTM and by that I mean growing up with ADHD #this was supposed to be a short post but oh well #lmk if I should expand on this and post it to ao3

[thedeliverygod]

spoilers for the most recent chapter of Noragami, read at your own risk. Conversation Heart from the 1st season soundtrack came on while I was writing this and wrecked me so if you wanna go through an emotional spiral I recommend putting that on.

Memories

on AO3 if you prefer

He always hated this part.

It never got any easier; from Sakura all the way to Yukine. The memories of the innocent souls that he named flashing through his mind tore his heart into shreds every time. Nora was the only exception; whether that was from her origins or the fact that Father had named her first, he wasn’t sure.

But now he was faced with another exception: Hiyori.

The girl who recklessly ran out into the road to shove him out of the way from an oncoming bus as he chased after a lost cat. The girl who helped him get through to Yukine and saved both their lives during his ablution. The girl who made him his first shrine. The girl who called him back from yomi, from the clutches of Izanami herself.

The human girl who had the audacity to face off with his father, to protect him. The one who he desperately wanted to protect and the one who he was in love with.

But he’d failed and the proof was the memories of her life taking over his vision.

Her time as a baby and an elementary school student flashed by quickly, with toys and drawings and her bright smile. He saw her celebrating Christmas with her family and school events like sports days. And then, it was Hiyori as he first met her; a ninth-grade student soon to enter high school.

And soon her memories were filled with him and Yukine. Laughing, working together, smiling; she looked at them so fondly. He saw her carving pieces of his shrine endlessly into the night, a smile on her face then too. He saw himself, crying, but laughing and thanking her.

Then her memories reached recent events. How devastated he’d left her after he’d said goodbye. How she worked on immediately fixing the shrine, despite her obvious mixed feelings towards him. How she immediately went after him despite Yukine urging her not to.

Kazuma’s confrontation. And Hiyori’s realization.

Though he didn’t think it was possible, his heart tightened even more.

She attempted to continue with school, but she found herself wound up in his problems again despite warnings from Tenjin. She fought once again with Father about him and Yukine, leaving her cord torn. After her grandmother passed, she made an unlikely partner of Nora and continued once again to look for him.

And now, they were here.

His eyes were wet with tears and his throat and chest were so tight that they ached. But while he was being drowned in the waves of Hiyori’s memories, he and she had made progress against his father.

Eyes widening, he noticed the koto no ha along with some of his father’s fingers had been sliced clean through with Hakki. Without Izanami’s borrowed powers, Father was done for.

‘You’re saving me once again, Hiyori.’ He thought to himself as he gripped the flowering knife tighter.

#noragami #noragami spoilers #yatori

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S2:E7; Chapter Seven, The Lost Sister - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

In their search for answers, psychic visions draw Eleven and Y/n to a band of violent outcasts and an angry girl with a shadowy past.

⚠️ WARNINGS: canon use of a derogatory term referring to someone who lives with psychosis spectrum syndrome, or schizophrenia (used exactly twice, back to back)

📝A.N: I thank you endlessly for your patience, my dears. There's been and will be more rewriting (not storywise, really, just some polishing) for the lost sister chapters. Also, while I'm here, stranger danger is real, kids. Practice safety everywhere you can. Please be safe 🙏

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Hugging my jacket tighter around my chest does little to stop the chattering in my teeth thanks to the cold that has already sunk into my bones. Despite all that has happened, I count ourselves lucky the seats El and I picked ended up near the bus's heater. Though at least the lingering chill from outside is keeping me awake and alert.

Trying again to rub the very last of sleep from my eyes, I try even harder to make sense of the sudden change in my surroundings.

I remember drifting off on the futon at Becky's, the next thing I know El is shaking me awake and pulling me down the stairs. All I had time to grab was my jacket, counting myself very lucky I managed to slip on my shoes before we were out the door.

Another shiver hits me like a brick when a bit of cold sneaks down the neck of my jacket. I inwardly groan. I didn't even get to change out of my pajamas.

I tried asking El what was going on and where the hell we were going─not to mention so late at night─but nothing came of it. It was difficult not to ask again, but the look I caught in her eye as we fled the front porch silenced me, if only momentarily. I tried again, when we were halfway down the road.

That time she spoke. And with a breathless voice, a vice-like grip on my hand, and furiously banishing a single tear she thought I hadn't seen. "It's not safe."

So here we find ourselves... Squished into two little purple patterned seats on the first bus we could find. I'm just happy it's not another truck.

I feel a pair of eyes on me and I look cautiously to my side, already knowing what to expect. Several other passengers watch us discreetly─some not so much. A young couple across the isle and two rows back are whispering as they eye us, either heavily concerned or far too judgemental. I'm tired and can't bring myself to care enough to figure it out.

Sadly, however, my self anxieties are still in tact under these stares. I tug my jacket tighter around my torso, my arms staying folded across my stomach. I turn to look at El and I can make out her disheartened reflection watching droplets of rain trickle down the fogged window. I rest my head tiredly on the back of my seat and attempt to break the silence.

"El?" My voice comes out as strangled, but I don't know why.

Her head rolls across the seat to face me and I'm reminded she's just as upset about this sudden uprooting as I am. Likely, of course, even more so. Her brown eyes, normally sparkling, are dulled and sad. Her eyelids sag a little, but she's fighting it well. More than anything, I sense a great deal of it is emotional exhaustion.

A million questions run through my head but I only find myself asking one. "Are you okay?"

She sniffles but gives me no immediate answer. That's when I finally note the small trace of a copper red smear, barely visible at the base of her nose that she had otherwise hastily wiped clean. Blood.

One more look in her eyes and I know; El is debating on whether or not she should lie. Finally, she speaks, and somehow I know she has told me the truth. "No."

I wince at the sound of her broken voice, splintered and forced. I extend my hand, as she did this afternoon. I'm so happy when she takes it. I gave her palm a reassuring squeeze and I look carefully in her eyes.

"El, you know you can tell me anything, right?" I ask, not even completely certain she has something to tell. But I still need her to know this.

Her eyes fall to our hands, and although she tries to hide it, I notice the subtle flutter of her eyes working to blink back tears. Her free and restless hand─which had been fiddling with her clutched bag straps on and off all day─tightened considerably. She must be spending too much time with me, a part of me thought dismissively.

"She called us in." Her grip flinches tighter when she whispers this. "I'm sorry."

Called us in? I try to make sense of this for a moment. I wonder if I heard her correctly, she had spoken so softly.

"Wait, what do you mean?" I ask gently. "Why are you sorry?"

"I heard her," she choked back. Panic is crawling into her voice and her other hand leaves the straps of her bag in favor of holding onto my forearm. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she thought I would suddenly dissappear. "She called for the policeman. Told them about me. And... she gave them your name. I'm sorry Y/n."

"My name?" I gulped, but my throat felt suddenly dry. "So, the police are gonna--? They're gonna know that I'm...?"

She nodded, remorseful eyes brimming with tears. Her face twists up in a sour pout she quickly banishes. But it was clear. She was panicking, for both our sakes.

Instinctively, I gave her hand another reassuring squeeze and managed, at most, a half-assed smile. Maybe it's for her sake, or maybe it's for mine.

"It's okay, it's not entirely your fault El," I say instinctively. I gulp again despite my dry mouth, certain she notices, but there's little room to care. My mind is buzzing, sleep now a far off worry. "Yeah, okay. I'm not going to lie to you, that's... That's not good. But I also knew what I was risking when I went with you."

My words feel like they're coming in slower and slower as I process everything in real time. El's patience with me is genuine, at least, and I attempt to mirror that as I sort hastily through my thoughts.

"The truth is, things really haven't been going super well at home. Everyone's fighting─more than usual, I mean,"

El cracks a tiny somber smile at that, and I feel one spread across my face as well. But it hardly lasts for either of us.

"Like I said before, Mike hasn't been himself since you left. And now Will is acting up. In fact, he's... El, he's completely different. He's sick, he's really sick. And so angry.

"The party is falling apart, and I've felt more alone these past few weeks than I have in a really long time. And on top of it all," my voice lowers further. "I'm still finding stuff I didn't know I could do. I've been having trouble with... well, you know."

El looks to me in surprise, her eyebrows raised. Safe to say she understands what I'm getting at.

I nod. "The point is, you showing up has been just what I needed. And yes, it's scary, but thanks to you I found out how I got here─where I came from... That's really good. I have you to thank for that."

It takes her a moment to consider my words, but El eventually gives me a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes. A mixture of remorse and fear is still etched into her tear-stained face as she needlessly pulls her bag further into her lap, her hand leaving my forearm again to do so. I almost think more of it before her face lights up in grateful remembrance.

El wiggles closer to me in her seat before dipping her head in. "I found her. The girl."

I perked up a bit, looking back at my friend with a daring crumb of hope.

"Really? That's great! So did you get anything useful? Maybe the girl's name or where we're going?"

The hope I saw in El's face disappeared just as soon, and she shakes her head. But her face scrunches up thoughtfully as if she was trying to remember something she might have missed.

"A city." She looks at me quizzically, repeating a word she must have heard only in passing. "Shuh-cago?"

My eyes widened. "Chicago?" El nodded. "We're going to Chicago?"

El shrugged her shoulders. This was the best she could give. "Shuh-cago."

Okay. Chicago. Deep breath in. I could do that. And out. Maybe. Maybe this was incredibly stupid. In. Then again, so was chasing down an interdimensional gate while on the run from top secret government thugs. And I had done that... Barely.

"Um, okay..." I sigh heavily, only now realizing I have been holding my breath. My eyes fall to my lap, noting my rapidly bouncing leg. "Well, are you sure? Is that what you heard, or maybe saw somewhere?"

El nodded. Another dry gulp.

"So you really think she'll help, huh?" I ask.

She gives me a weak, but reassuring smile and softly squeezes my hand. "Yes."

I look to her, grateful, but I'm unsure how genuine I appear. Yet another silence follows quickly after.

The familiar feeling bubbles up in my stomach again, though it is much more intense. Sure I had anxieties about leaving with El, but this overpowered that. At least I had the small chance of not getting caught─that I'd be back the next night and it could all be explained away by being at the Byers house. But this is quickly spiraling. This had already spiraled, and I am beginning to feel sick to my stomach with nerves. The moment the Chief got Becky Ives' message then it was only a matter of time before my mom was notified, and─oh no...

Unsurprisingly, she's going to the ends of the earth just to find Mews. I can't imagine the stress she'll inevitably be under when she finds out that some woman across town filed a report about me. And now I'm on a bus to Illinois.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. The last thing I need is spirlaing my way into another accident. I have a feeling I could do a lot more damage on a crowded bus than I did boiling some cereal.

I glance at El for only a moment. Her attention is back outside, peering through the fog and the reflections on the glass. She's (presumably) oblivious to the noise in my head. A part of me─the logical part of me─is angry with myself for being so forgiving. For not communicating my disappointment well enough. Dustin always said I had a problem with that. And yet, even though I meant what I had said to El about finding out where I came from...

Maybe I did it cause I felt bad for El. She was sorry, and she was in trouble.

But I'm in trouble now, too, I remind myself.

Part of me is hoping Chicago is a dead end, and while I feel awful for feeling that way, I do. I find myself longing to be with Will again. The old Will. He always had a knack for knowing when I wasn't okay.

He always makes me feel validated when I'm upset. He listens, and he'd do anything to get me to smile. The way I want to do for him.

It hurts thinking about that now.

Whether I like it or not, I've found myself on a one way trip to the unknown, straying further and further from the safety of home.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

I don't realize I have drifted off until I feel a tap on my shoulder. My head feels much heavier and I find myself squinting against the interior lights (which now seem much brighter than before) to find El gesturing towards the isle. Through bleary eyes I make out a small line of people already shuffling down the isle ahead of us. Quickly─but rather drowsily─I rise from my seat and join them, making sure El is close behind.

We had spilled out onto the busy streets among the rest but found ourselves stalled at the edge of the sidewalk. I'm unsure about El, but the sight before me succeeds in banishing my exhaustion instantly. Between the return of the frigid breeze, the towering architecture, and the swarm of strangers every which way, I'm questioning if I'll ever sleep again.

I'm captivated as I look around in an odd mix of awe and fear. Living in a small town like Hawkins for so long makes places like Chicago feel like another planet, so it would seem.

It doesn't feel as though we're standing in the heart of the city, more so the center of a giant hive─with bees buzzing in and out with no motivation other than work. No leisure, just urgency. The entire world is whirring around us─every which way─and I suddenly have this feeling if any one person were to drop at any moment this little world would keep on moving without a second thought. It's fascinating and completely terrifying.

One curious look at El told me I wasn't alone. Neither of us had fully comprehended what we were in for until this moment. But I suppose that in itself was even slightly reassuring─that neither of us were alone.

Standing here lost in a sea of strange people, that note hits a bit harder this time as the initial shock wears off. Nobody here seems to know anyone and they all seem angry.

She remains silent at my side but El's wisdom from earlier still bring comfort to me.

"Y/n, we can defend ourselves, remember?"

She did have a point, we do have certain advantages. But then again, came that convincing little voice in my head, if we were put in a situation where we were forced to use them, then all the closer we going were to being caught.

I look to El to try and gauge her reaction and I find she's still very much lost in the towering city skyline─a genuine smile on her face. For a moment I wish I can enjoy it, but there are simply too many reminders where we are, and why I can't.

Eagerly, she starts walking down the streets and I follow her. I'm thankful I was able to retrieve my shoes and jacket, but I still can't seem to drag my thoughts away from the fact that my teeth are back to chattering. The words I spoke earlier today pop into my mind only to mock me, "I guess I kept myself warm,". Just another reason to learn how to--

A strong force strikes my shoulder hard enough to put a stumble in my steps, and instantly my train of thought is gone. I whirl around to see a man throwing me a pointed sneer over his large, squared shoulders. "Watch yourself, would ya'?," Gawking back, I spy the man making steady strides down the sidewalk with no remorse.

Huffing, I burrow my fists deeper in my jacket pockets and lie to myself that it's simply to keep my hands warm. It's bullshit, considering I don't need help in that department, but it keeps us going forward I guess.

Well, me, anyway.

I don't get in two steps before finally noticing El was at a standstill. I stop again, this time confused, to see my friend rooted to the middle of the city sidewalk. Steam from nearby grates billowed all around her, ruffling her flannel collar. She fixes a hard glare on the man behind us.

"Mouth-breather," She says, her voice low. Just then, her gaze drops and my eyes begin to widen.

I spot the man in the crowd just in time to see him stumble forward onto the concrete. Angrily, he sits up, looking around frantically and glaring at anyone who dared to titter. I felt a chuckle coming on myself when I barely make out the string of curses directed at his shoelaces as he hotly retied them.

El looked to me, hardly suppressing a smile and a roguish look in her eye. Before anyone could see, she wiped her nose clean of blood.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

If I thought I was cold before, I was dead wrong. We've been walking for about two hours, if I had to guess. The muscles in my feet are beginning to knot, and my sweatpants are clinging to my legs.

About half an hour ago, a truck drove through a puddle and I caught the tail end of the splash when we turned the corner. To pass the time, I've been trying to dry them subtly with my hands against my legs, but it didn't get me very far, even with El's advice. I finally gave it a rest after a while. I wasn't getting terribly far and I didn't want to risk draining myself if the walk was much longer.

By now I've grown used to the odd and wandering looks we've gathered. But the tension creeps back in when El leads us down an incredibly questionable alley. We are definitely in the riskier parts of the city though I try to hold my tongue and save questions until later. My instincts tell me I need to appear more confident than I am. El seems to hold up that exterior well enough, though even her confidence is waning slightly.

We find ourselves surrounded by many sluggish people, all of whom mill about around us. The alley and its inhabitants are lit mostly by fire pits in steel barrels. The stench is hard to ignore; everything wreaks of booze, cigarettes, and urine.

A frightening, cackling, man steps towards my face as we walk by and I flinch back. "They're dead. They're all dead!" He cries out.

His hyena-like laughter bounces off the cement walls and echoes in my ears. I can practically taste his awful breath and I duck my head down avoiding eye contact as I pull El along forward with me.

I can sense her eagerness to leave the alley in her vice-like grip that rivals my own. Neither of us dare let go. Without a word, we break into a matching jog and scurry on.

We don't stop until we reach what looks to be an abandoned underpass. The stench is mostly gone, but in its place something else unidentifiable. Beer cans litter the concrete and every wall is touched with graffiti.

Finally, we emerge from the darkened space to find an old and windowless warehouse. Like the underpass, there isn't a single wall or slab of concrete that isn't decorated with spray paint and neon color. This is where El stops us suddenly.

I glanced ahead of me at the building a second time, now taking in the little details. There is one tiny door ahead of us supplied with only one window─the glass dirtied and fogged, shows us nothing but flickering yellow light. And beckoning us over, curling whisps of steam pouring out of the shadows despite (what appeared to be) the windowless, pipeless, boring metal box of a building.

"Is... this it?" I ask.

"Yes." El answers. And for the first time since the alley, she releases my hand.

El sets off towards the building without another word. Almost like ripping of a band-aid; if she didn't do it now and all at once... Or maybe that's just my reasoning. I quickly follow behind, attempting to prepare myself for whatever we might find.

Upon first glance, it's not much different to the exterior; boxes, crates, barrels, and planks litter the interior and the spray paint almost smells fresh. The entrance we stand in is part of a small alcove, and it's clear the further you step inside the ceiling extends. But what catches my eye are the four people huddled around another makeshift firepit.

One girl, who sits perched on several cushions and lighting a cigarette begins to giggle teasingly. "You should do stand-up, Axe. There's a spot a few blocks away."

The group chuckles, and a tall lanky man with a large mohawk rolls his eyes with a smirk. Among them, a rather large and beefy man, who clearly seems to be the muscle, and another young woman in cuffed jeans, gloves and a dark green flannel jacket.

There is no time to worry what they might say or do when they realize we are here. El is already calling out to them. Logically, I knew we would be making ourselves known one way or another, yet my knees now feel as if they are threatening to lock at the sudden action.

"Hello?" El's voice echoed out.

The group stops and turns, their faces illuminated by the fire. The shadows now casted across their faces are eerie, like someone about to tell a ghost story.

A sickening smirk curls along the lanky one's face. My stomach drops two stories when he struts around the fire, now making his way towards us.

"Well, well... What do we have here?" He purrs, still with that no good smile.

The others follow in their friend's footsteps and rise to their feet, no doubt an act of intimidation. I look anxiously between El and the strangers, though I somehow manage to keep a still face.

These others are now inching towards us and I feel my heart rate pick up. The woman in the green jacket scoffs, looking us up and down. If I were to guess, she was trying to decide which of us looked stranger.

"What are those, overalls?" She asks finally, referring to El.

The other young woman─who had been stalking around us like we were something to play with─finally stops at me. I try to hide the tense in my shoulders but I suspect it's no use. Her gaze is somewhat bored as she looks me up and down, then jabs a bony finger in my shoulder. I roll it when she does, as if shaking off the feel of her touch.

"And get a load of this one," she squeaks, blowing smoke into my grimacing face. She lets out an awkward snort, clearly amused with my reactions and uneasy demeanor. "Y'could knock this one down with a feather,"

I cough, fanning away the miniature smog cloud lingering in my face. This gave the lanky one, Mohawk, a chuckle. The Smoker turns to me and fakes a pout.

"What's the matter, kiddies? Thought your little slumber party could use a fun little adventure in the big city, huh?"

More laughter from the others. Fighting the returning impulse to roll my eyes, I instead take another subtle deep breath.

The woman is already answering her own rhetorical question with another fake pout and flick of her cigarette ashes. "Well, you ain't gonna find it here, so go on back to the farm now."

"We're looking for my sister."

My eyes jump to El in surprise but they quickly return to the group, not particularly eager to give away the fact I had no idea what she was talking about. Sister? I do have to applaud El's quick thinking, though, I suppose.

"Aw..." Mohawk jeers. "Shirley Temple lost her sister. So sad."

"I saw her. Here." She reaches into her bag, likely for the photograph clipping from Becky's. But they all tense.

"Uh-uh," The Muscle said suddenly. "Hand out of your pocket. Slow."

El complies and Mohawk rips the news clipping from her hand. "Give me that shit."

For the first time in this encounter, this man looks apprehensive. Seeing the photo was enough to shock him into temporary silence. And apparently this in itself is enough to lure the flannel woman forward to investigate for herself. Now, like the man, she is snatching the photo up with shock.

"Is that Kali?"

"Kali?" El asks.

Mohawk steps forward, visibly on edge. Taking advantage of his height, he towers over El with an impressive glare. I say nothing, but I mirror his actions─taking a step further into El's side with a tiny glare of my own.

"How did you find us?" He questions. "Who else knows you're here?"

El backs up slightly and suddenly I was jumping to speak. "No one knows we're here." I say.

"And no one was speaking to you, either," My face sours and he returns to El. "Is this true, Shirley Temple? So, what then? Poof! You just show up like magic with that picture?"

"Stay calm." Flannel warns. "They're just kids, alright?"

He turns on her quickly. "Some kids that could get us all killed."

Like that, his anger is back on El and he pulls something from his pocket. My eyes fall to the object in his hand and my heart sinks into my stomach.

"If I have to ask again, Shirley, you'll start losing things." He carefully unfolds the pocket knife, making sure we catch the light bouncing off the blade before waving it in El's face. "Starting with those pretty little locks of yours. Yeah?"

He's in more danger than we are. He's in more danger than we are--

I still look desperately between the man and his companions─it'd be helpful to know where they stand with the threatening of children. Each of them seemed uncomfortable with his actions in varying degrees, but it was Flannel, again, who stepped forward.

"Come on, Axe. Put down the knife." She warns, her voice getting sharper.

The blade grows closer towards El's face and my heart rate breaks hummingbird records. The man is only getting angrier.

"How did you find us?"

"I saw her." El's voice is rushed and shaky, but not completely fearful. I know why, and it's the only reason I haven't (completely) fallen apart.

He advances further, still with that stupid knife and everyone's voices begin to drown in the deafening roar of blood pumping in my ears. He's beside me now as El keeps backing away and I can't bring myself to move out of his way. I'm not sure yet if it's out of bravery or fear.

"That's not an answer!" He roars.

"Axe!"

I throw aside my common sense and step fully in between them, planting myself directly in his path. "Hey-!"

He freezes, wide eyes flying to his hand. My eyes follow, fearful I've done something unintentionally. But there's nothing. Just a shaky hand with a tiny blade. Yet Mohawk staggers backward, his blade-wielding arm extended as far away from himself as possible.

"Je-Jesus!" He huffs in ragged, near incoherent sqeaks. "Jesus Christ!"

He chucks the knife on the concrete behind us, the blade nearly nicking my legs. He looks up and down his torso, his face draining of color before our eyes. He frantically swipes at himself, several fearful squeals jumping from him. El and I share a look over my shoulder, confused.

"Get off! Shit!"

He is running across the room now, hunched over and desperately swatting at his head, face, and arms. I have to step back to avoid his path as he maneuvers around me and his companions have to do the same.

"You're a terrible dancer, Axel."

Everyone, including myself, turns towards the source of the newest voice. On the stairs, leaning on the banister with a sly smirk is another young woman. Half of her head is shaved, the other half tinted a dark purple. Like the others, she was dressed in grunge, but oddly, they didn't seem shabby or cheap.

The guy named Axel relaxes, only for a moment, before it evolves into anger. He smacks his head angrily and gestured towards her as she comes down the steps.

"I told you, Kali, stay out of my head. " He spits.

"So we're threatening little kids now, are we?" She asks, striding towards us.

"They know about you." Axel defends.

The Smoker─the one who mocked me─steps forward with the photo El had procured.

"Farmgirl here had this."

The new girl, the one I can only assume to be the one we were searching for, grabs the photo. If I had to guess, she is attempting to hide her shock.

El steps away from behind me and cautiously approaches her. I'm not entirely thrilled, nor surprised, to see this girl, Kali, sizing El up and down. I don't miss the quick inspection she gives me, either.

"Where did you get this?" She asks El.

"Mama," El answers, taking the photograph back and placing it in her bag.

"Your mother gave this to you?"

"In her dream circle," El says.

I raise my brow, and as I suspect the others don't take to it, or her very easily.

"Dream circle," Axel scoffs, pacing the room. "I think she's a schizo or something."

I'm beginning to believe this man is determined to be the biggest jackass in the room.

"Says she's looking for her sister."

"Yeah. Like I said, schizo."

There's a bitter taste in my mouth and an itch crawling up my back. The idea of holding back all this anger is withering before my eyes─every word this asshole says is added coal to the fire.

My glare follows him across the room as he bends to retrieve his knife. But the blade is flying through the air and into El's waiting hand before he can touch it. This almost makes me smile.

Mumbles of surprise bounce around the group, but I simply watch with pride building in my chest as El confidently folds the knife closed and hands it to the girl.

"I saw you. In the rainbow room."

Something in the girl's eye changes drastically. She begins to stalk around El before she stops halfway to stand beside her.

"What is your name?"

"Jane."

I can't say I was expecting that, yet I wait. I concentrate my energy on keeping my jaw clenched. I've been fighting my chattering teeth ever since we stepped into this lions den and the muscles in my jaw have now grown weak and sore.

Kali grabs El's left wrist and pushes back her sleeve revealing her tattoo. In turn, El reaches for Kali's sleeve. It's pulled back to reveal a tiny cluster of ink to match El's. I almost don't notice─the sight of El allowing anyone to touch her tattoo had floored me.

That is, until I finally catch the three black digits etched into Kali's skin, and my stomach twists.

It's not actually...? My wringing hands find a new focus: the loud and blank skin of my left inner wrist.

I'm not sure why I'm surprised by this, not if we came here in search of someone like El. Someone who lived through the lab experiments with El. But the sight of the 008 tattoo hits me a little hard. Is it because it makes this all the more real? Or was it because of the longing in El's eyes as they cloud over in tears?

Her lips begun to tremble as their gazes met. "Sister."

Kali nods, breathless. "Sister,"

The two collapse into each other's arms and somehow I feel even more out of place here. It's inspiring to see; two sides of the same coin finally meeting. What each of them must have gone through─now free, now with one another. This is huge for El.

So why aren't I happy? And why does this feel like such a slippery slope?

There's no time to wonder, the two are breaking apart. Kali takes El's hands in her own, giving them a strong squeeze. The two smile at one another and my eyes fall to my feet, suddenly hyperaware of my myself and how I stand. The ends of my sweatpants are still soaked and the water in my shoes sponged up against my feet are frigid. Yet somehow, the stare of the others──the stare of Kali's──is what freezes me over.

"Jane, who is this?" She asks.

"Y/n. My friend."

Against instinct, against all comforting thought, I force myself to face her. Maybe I'm mistaken or just too damn hopeful, but the curiosity behind her eyes almost seems a bit more relaxed. Now with El's approval.

Hands still partially hidden in my jacket pocket, I send a tiny wave with my fingers and manage my best imitation of a smile.

"Hi," I mumble, trembling. Damn my chattering teeth.

The weight of Kali's stare is intimidating. I might not know the specifics of what makes her unique like us, but I can tell already her abilities aren't what make her powerful. She exudes that all on her own.

Kali looks me up and down and I almost convince myself my life depends on this one impression. And maybe it does.

Tearing me from my thoughts, Kali cocks her head and asks. "Why are you in pajamas?" She actually sounds, almost, amused? It's disarming.

"Short version?" I want to wince at the nervous chuckle that comes out involuntarily. But I'm too damn cold. And hungry. "We kinda had to make a quick get away."

Kali looks at me for a moment with an unreadable expression, though something tells me she understands. Another moment of uncertainty, seconds too long, and my mind runs in panicy circles. What did I say? What did I not say? Did I accidentally just insult her, her mother, and her entire existence without realizing? The part of my brain in charge of logic dismissed that theory almost immediately but unfortunately stress and fear were the perfect feul for doubt, as always.

Kali confirms this with a chuckle that brought time back out of slow motion. She then turns to another one of the groups members─the one who had taken caution with El and her photograph─the Muscle. He is a wide-set man with the long braid and a kindly aura.

"Funshine, take this one upstairs and help him find some warm clothes. I'd like to talk to Jane. Alone."

Her eyes fall on me, her amusement dimming away and back to speculation.

El doesn't appear to be as hesitant as I would have anticipated her to be. She's lost in the euphoria of reuniting with Kali. The idea of a sudden separation strikes fear in me─something far more powerful than the silly doubts flashing in my mind moments ago. This was a pit seeding in my stomach, ready to grow.

The larger man nods and steps forward. Surprised, my eyes flicker back to Kali and she smiles reassuringly.

"Don't worry, he's nothing but a big softie," she says with a simper, turning and leaving with El.

"El...?" Was she really just gonna leave? The two slow, and El pulls her attention away from Kali and over her shoulder to me.

"It's okay," she promises. "I'll be back," And then she was dissapearing up the stairs, Kali's arm slung over her shoulder.

...Somehow that made it worse.

The man I've been instructed to go with is smiling warmly when I turn to him. It's the first I'm put at even the slightest of ease since arriving.

"Don't you worry, we'll find something warm for you," he says, his voice deep and kind. He makes way for the stairs, pausing at the bottom with a hand on the metal rail. He throws me a brief nod over his shoulder. "We should get you by a fire, too, and quick. Dangerous for you to be walking out here like that─you'll catch your death,"

Against all odds, I feel a tiny tug at the corners of my mouth─a smile itching to spread. It doesn't quite, not with the dread sitting in my stomach like a chunk of stone or my friend walking off with a stranger.

But now, with little choice, I do the same.

My footsteps fall in sync with his almost instantly as we climb the stairs. Silence falls quick and heavy over the open space apart from our differentiating gait hiking the metal steps. I'm peering over my shoulder without much thought for consequence, my eyes meeting with the other three strangers─each of them watch me.

The way they eye me turns my stomach. The Mohawk──Axel, and the Smoker, in particular.

There was the Flannel woman─the only other person here who seemed to care El and I were children. She may be the other exception. For one, she doesn't seem interested enough, and for that I'm grateful. But mostly, I don't forget her attempts to cool down this Axel.

His glare on me sharpens, but to my surprise, I don't wither beneath it. I'm brave enough (or stupid enough) to glare back. He twirls his knife expertly in his hands as I turn away, eliciting a unpleasant cackle from Smoker. I don't need any further reassurance these are two I need to worry about.

But that's already being pushed to the back burner─Funshine and I reach the second floor and round a poorly lit corner and that's when I spot the two figures down the catwalk a ways. El and Kali. They're making their way for another, steeper pair of stairs. Smiling and laughing, already.

A sudden voice cuts through my storm of thoughts and suddenly I'm back on earth. "Right this way, friend,"

Funshine directs me to one of the makeshift bedrooms to our right and something in me weakens when we step inside. The concrete room is bathed in turquoise and peach shadows casted from the neon lights gathered inside. Where I expected all concrete walls to close me in, I see wide (albiet dirtied) windows overlooking the first floor. But the lure of it all is a split between the king size nest of pillows and blankets in the center and the fire pit in the corner.

The sight of it all is dangerously persuasive and so is the sudden wail of my aching bones and the shudder down my spine, louder than they ever were. I'm wavering already, but I'm alert enough to realize the longing in my eyes as they rake across the bed and fire is obvious.

Funshine gestures towards the fire in the corner and ushers me along. "Go ahead and warm up. I'll be right back with some proper clothes." He says before turning.

I nod absently, far too entranced and eagerly gravitating towards the warmth now before me.

He leaves from where we came and disappears around the corner. I stifle a smile when I feel the heat washing over my body. Muscles I didn't even realize I had are melting as they meet the warm glow of the flames.

I'm not sure how long I'm standing there, but it must be several minutes at the least. Enough time for Funshine to return with a bundle of clothes in his arms.

"Here you are," I trail behind him to the bed where he drops the small mountain on the edge of the sunken mattress. "I gathered a few things that I thought might fit you best. Theres plenty of stuff in here, so you'll have options. But I insist you consider dressing in layers. It'll only get worse out there," He sends me another nod and begins to head back for the door. "Alright then. You get warm, now,"

And that's all he says. He's already heading for the door. I have a sudden fear I won't get another chance to speak with him. Or let the swell of gratitude I felt be known. I couldn't hold my tongue any longer, nor did I want to.

"Hey," I call out, growing nervous. "Um..." I winced a bit at my trailing voice.

He slows at the door and turns around, giving me a curious look.

"Thank you," I mumble, mustering a smile as grateful as I felt. "For the clothes. And-- well, everything, I guess."

Another friendly smile stretches across his face and once again he nods.

"You're certainly welcome."

#you'll float queue #stranger things #cosmic #el hopper #kali prasad #funshine stranger things #mick stranger things #dottie stranger things #will byers x male!reader #will byers x reader #x reader #x male!reader #stranger things 2 #cosmic 2 #m!cosmic #the lost sister

[oliviab-scstudyabroad]

Hey Oli, Do You Like Starbucks? (Part II)

Hey everyone! Here’s part two of my English Camp counselor experience!

On Tuesday Morning, we woke up at around 8:00 to have breakfast at 8:30. I was wary of the day ahead because the kids were so rambunctious the day before, but luckily, they were behaved as they ate their tostados and drank hot chocolate. Afterwards, we had a token ceremony where we named students who had done something well the day before and handed them a token to put in their group’s jar. It was fun to see how excited and proud the kids were when they were called to receive a token. Then, for the next activity, us counselors handed out hats that the students could draw on! A lot of them wrote “English Camp”, but some of them signed their names, drew their favorite futból team, etc. We of course had to get a group picture of everyone wearing their hats.

The main activity was “Photo Safari”, where the groups had to recreate pictures that were on a sheet of paper. I took pictures of the green group “sitting on a bus”, acting like animals, forming a period, etc. The pictures of the kids didn’t look much like those that were on the paper, but I gave them tokens for working together. After, the students had “Crafts Time”, so while the students picked up leaves and flowers that they found on the ground outside, we spread out construction paper of all different colors, markers, scissors, and tape. I loved what they came up with! The counselors told them to create a “collage”, a word which many of the students had never heard before, so one of them wrote “Colash” on their paper. I had to take a picture of that. I also created my own “Colash”, and it made me grin at how many of the kids complimented me on my handwriting and drawing abilities. It reminded me of when I was that age and thought that everything that an adult did was brilliant.

Afterwards, we had lunch of steak and mashed potatoes (I was thrilled to say the least). The girls of the class started to open up a lot more and asked me in English how old I am, if I had any siblings, where do I live in the United States, etc. One girl named Lisette asked me if I liked Starbucks, and we talked about what our favorite drinks are. I could see visions of frappucinos dancing in her head as she explained that her favorite flavor is cookies and cream. I was stunned that she knew what “cookies and cream” was in English, but then I realized that the Starbucks in Uruguay most likely has that flavor in English on the menu. Nevertheless, I was impressed at how well she could express herself. She also said that she loved Taco Bell and “Chicki-Fil-A” when she went to the U.S., and I admitted that I could also go for some chicken minis and waffle fries right about now.

The next activity was “Working Together”. Four stations were set up (one for each counselor), and the groups had to rotate and complete the task. At my station, the kids had to create the most elaborate tower with plastic cups, and the group that had the best tower (decided by the judges) would win tokens. The students immediately started stacking the cups, and if a part of the tower collapsed, they strategized how to make it more stable. I took a picture of each tower, and if they finished early, I would teach them a game in English. After the stations, the students had more free time. The boys were always asking when they could play futból, so they sprinted for the fields as soon as we said that they had an hour and a half to do whatever they wanted. Futból is such a big part of their lives; all the boys wore their soccer cleats, and many had on sweatsuits with their team’s logo (either Peñarol or Nacional). When one team lost after a game, there would always be at least two boys crying. It reminded me of how things like losing a game against your classmates is everything at that age and even more if you’re Uruguayan. At dinner, the boys talked my ear off about the history of Peñarol, the World Cup, and the players on the teams. Peñarol was playing that night, so they kept asking me what the score was. When I had told them that I had gone to a Peñarol match, Jeronimo turned to me and said, “You are genial” (“you are cool”). After dinner, the students were free to play board games in English or draw some more. I was shocked at the fact that games that I thought only existed in the U.S., such as Mafia and Operation, are the exact same in Uruguay! I played Uno with a group which is always a safe bet because 1. Almost everyone knows how to play, and 2. Little communication is required. We then had another token ceremony before setting up a bonfire! The kids sat around, and the counselors sang songs in English (“Wheels on the Bus” and “Old McDonald had a farm”) and played “I went to the market”, the game where you say, “I went to the market and got _”, and the next person repeats what you said and adds another item to the sentence. This proved to be especially challenging for the kids, so we ended up just enjoying the fire and trying not to fall asleep. Needless to say, I zonked out as soon as I hit the pillow that night.

That was Day 2! Part III coming soon!

[iamnotdame]

Doing Too Much, Caring About Too Many People - How I Went From Humble to CEO

Taking a look back on everything since 2014, what has been on my shoulders?

In 2014, I prayed & cried to God for 45 minutes and expressed how passionate I was about helping others. In that prayer, I shared with God that I didn’t know how I could help people, or who I could help, I just knew that I had a dying passion in my heart to pour myself into others.

Less than a year later, God blessed me with an opportunity to fly to New York City to visit a music school… during this visit, I started to think of all of the things right & wrong with music education and made a promise (on video) that, “when I got back to LA, I would show music creatives how to be proper professionals in the music industry…” I spent the rest of my New York trip, which was about 2 additional weeks, sitting in a hotel, dreaming, fantasizing, drawing up ideas & plans on how I could start doing ‘small’ music workshops in LA, introducing aspiring music professionals to what it really takes to be successful in today’s music industry.

This wasn’t an idea to make money. I didn’t do this for notoriety. I did it because I wanted to help. I did it because I felt there was a dire need for it. I wanted to pour my ideas and passion for helping into people. I took this as, “God is showing me where and how I can help”, since this is what I asked him for back in 2014. I took this as a mission, a duty to provide a wholesome service to complete strangers.

My steps moving forward from this point were purely heart-driven and have been up until today, 8 years later.

So, let’s go back to the initial question:

Taking a look back on everything since 2014, what has been on my shoulders?

I requested something from God, he gave it to me, now I have to move forward as a serviceman.

I had to turn my passion into ideas, ideas into a physical concept, a concept into a product, create organizational structure behind this product, define who could benefit from this product, create the actual product, test the product with a particular audience, use the feedback from this audience then make the product live, set dates, create an environment for consumers of this product that provided results, and success, then repeat, scale and expand.

I had to learn how to share my ideas, vision and plan with people I trusted and respected.

I had to consult with my peers and use their feedback, both positive and negative to create sureties within myself.

I needed to gain more confidence.

I needed money.

In 2015, I applied to over 80 jobs and came up empty. I applied to a temp agency and they told me they would call me if something came up. In the meantime, I applied to other A level, B level & C level jobs, with C level jobs paying minimum wage and being the only companies who actually offered me opportunities being that I had spent my entire career in the music industry as a producer, with no current relevant experience to any of the jobs I was applying to. Albertsons called me and offered me a position as a Bagger, starting at $9.75. My pride was like “Hell no”, but I swallowed that pride and quickly accepted the position.

I bagged groceries. Retrieved grocery carts from the parking lot, swept store aisles and cleaned the store bathrooms once/twice a day.

I worked there for 10 days and they fired me, because I questioned a manager for training us to do one thing, and watching them practice another… I was confused, like what was the point in all of this, literally crying because now I’m back at square one, with no money… that’s when the temp agency called me 2 days later with a 60-day Internship at corporate relocation company in Huntington Beach. I quickly accepted, even though one of the requirements was having a car, and I didn’t at the time, but agreed to catch the Bus and never be late. I bought a mountain bike on Craigslist for $150 and rode 5.5 miles to work (one way) every day. I lost 20 lbs riding 11 miles to work and back everyday to this job, and looked at it as a blessing because I was in the best shape of my life.

As I approached the 60-day mark of this Internship, my worries started to re-visit me because this company only offered positions to 5% of their Interns… they offered me a full-time position with a starting salary of $58,000, and of course I accepted. Now I had the financial resources to pour into my ideas, vision and plans to “help others” in music. My plan was to use all of my money to start my music workshops, and I did, to a fault… this new job was HARD and demanded every minute of my time, and did not really allow for extra-curricular activities, especially in the first 6 months. They flew me to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania for a 7 day corporate training, all expenses paid, and what did I do? I used the trip as an opportunity to schedule Music Focus Groups at all of the local Universities in Pittsburgh through Facebook events months prior to going to Pittsburgh.

While all of the other employees who were also flown out to Pittsburgh for training were getting together after training to meet at bars and talk about the job, family and kids, I was taking Ubers to PITT & Duquesne University for Focus Groups I scheduled in their libraries, despite having no idea where the campuses were lol. 3 people showed up… I walked through the campuses and universities interviewing random students, asking them about their thoughts on college, chasing your passion, dropping out of school, dreams, etc, just to make sure I didn’t waste my time there. (I still have all of this footage and have never shared it. One day I will, especially after writing all of this.)

Here I am, in 8-hour corporate training classes, for one of the biggest corporate relocation companies in the world, in Pittsburgh for the first time, drawing up plans for music classes in the notebooks provided for writing notes about our corporate protocol & processes. I’m pretty sure you guys can all tell that I didn’t last long at this job.

I worked the internship from May - July of 2016, accepted the full time position and was officially hired in August of 2016, flew to Pittsburgh in September 2016, and was fired on December 12th/13th of 2016, because my mind was not there at all. I had already completed 2 of my music workshops by this time (September 2016 and November 12th 2016). I was printing copies and music workshop flyers on my jobs corporate printers. One day, they asked me why I printed 120 copies, and of what… smh. I was printing flyers to pass out in LA at all of the local music schools to promote my upcoming music workshops.

They gave me a $4,800 severance check 1 week before Christmas… I told myself that I was going to put the entire check into my new company, Monster Sessions and schedule classes in January, February & April of 2017. If the classes worked, I’d keep going, if they didn’t, I would find another job.

They worked. No one showed up to the January class though, so I moved it to February. 5 students came to the February class, with 2 students saying “this was the best music class I’ve ever been to in my life” and providing me with the ultimate confidence to schedule an even larger class for April 2017.

This April 2017 class shattered all plans and projections with 21 students paying for the class and 16 of them flying/driving to LA to attend. Monster Sessions became an official company by August 2017.

Now I am a “CEO” by default, but I still have the mind of a humble servant of God that just wants to help music creatives.

Now all classes are full, an hour after posting them online. Now it’s real… really real.

I don’t have any income coming in, and I’m not business minded or money driven… but it had to be God, because now I have people offering me hundreds of thousands of dollars to do classes away from Monster Sessions, I have people offering me hundreds of thousands of dollars to expand Monster Sessions, to the point where I stopped doing Monster Sessions classes by the end of 2017.

In September of 2017, a German company paid me $185,000 to stop doing Monster Sessions classes, and to start filming virtual classes for a new dead project called “The Elite Producer”, or something like that. This was a disaster and was not worth any of the money they paid me. All momentum I had built up for Monster Sessions over a year had been halted and never rolled the same, ever. But these type of money opportunities did not stop coming, I just refused to accept any after The Elite Producer.

I now have a large core of loyal students and subscribers who believed in Monster Sessions, aspiring music professionals from all over the world, that I catered to on my hands & knees. I cared about them because I felt they cared about me.

I stopped publicly promoting Monster Sessions and just offered classes to our internal group of students who had already been to workshops and classes. Remember, my vision was small to begin with, so I shifted to helping this small group, instead of expanding, because the unknown was scary.

But Idk. I’m thinking that it was how accessible I was to my students, how much opportunity I provided them for free or for barely any money, how much advice I lended them all, how much I empowered everyone, I started to feel taken advantage of, unappreciated, walked over and stepped on, by the same people I gave my life towards helping. Because of this, I kept coming up with ways to give more, thinking this would make people finally appreciate me. I’d draw up clearer roadmaps for students to reach their ‘goals’ as subscribers to my services, because it didn’t seem like they really understood what it took, even after attending multiple classes… but it all just got worse.

Once again, “taking a look back on everything since 2014, what has been on my shoulders?”

I am now a teacher.

I provide REAL placement opportunities, but none of the students (with the exception of maybe 2-3, out of hundreds) have the talent or ability to secure them, but people are judging the legitimacy of the company and service on how many placements I secure, not the current state, or lack of talent in the music community and pool of music creatives subscribing to services like mine, that actually deserve REAL opportunities, or my help, advice or time.

… but I committed to this, so I have to do what I asked God for back in 2014.

Now I need help. I need to build a team. Now I’m creating Internship programs with local high schools and universities (USC, UCLA, LMU, LBSU, UCI, etc), while allowing current Monster Sessions students to fly to LA to work for me. Now I have a different responsibility. I have to make sure people who are flying in to help me, are good mentally, physically, financially…

I’m helping students with everything but music, their resumes, with moving to LA, finding apartments, jobs, family counseling, talking them out of depression, out of suicide, offering financial advice, helping them to learn which music gear they should invest in, all while helping them to be music professionals as students of Monster Sessions.

I am fielding partnership opportunities with corporate music companies: AVID, Arturia, Native Instruments, Focusrite, Waves Audio, Ableton and others. I am now friends with Presidents of these companies and music products I used as a kid, because they believe in Monster Sessions, like what??!

I am responsible for all Marketing efforts. Web design. Flyers. Promo. If we set a date for a music class, all seats need to be filled. How, with no marketing budget? Photoshoots, camera equipment, camera angles, picture & video editing… now I need Photoshop & Final Cut, AND I need to learn how to use them, while I’m on 1-2 hour personal phone calls with music students from around the world.

Students in other countries can talk at 3pm their time, which is 4am my time, so I have to schedule Skype calls to teach them how to effectively sell beats online, only for them to totally not listening to anything I said during our 1.5 hour free call, them not see any results, as I predicted, now their depressed and want me to give them advice on how not to take their own life…

Now I have a migraine because I’m thinking about a producer in Switzerland, hoping he doesn’t die because he told me he wanted to.

Taking a look back on everything since 2014, what has been on my shoulders?

Now it’s 2019, and I’ve totally forgotten about, ME. I’m sick. I’m in the hospital twice a month because, I’m overwhelmed but can never show it because, I need to be there for them… the people I asked God to allow me to help back in 2014. I can’t complain because I asked for this.

I made a commitment to “die over this” if I needed to, and I was planning that… I felt like, my honor, integrity and commitment to my prayers is what would carry my “legacy” if I were to drive myself into a grave… but I’m now realizing, that is not at all how any of this works.

Let’s just totally skip 2019, COVID, post-COVID…

Today, September 22, 2022:

Taking a look back on everything since 2014, what should be on my shoulders going forward?

Exploring and discovering what “I” actually want for myself.

My health.

My happiness.

Still honoring my commitment to God, but with all that I’ve endured and experienced, learning how to honor my commitment as a true CEO and Director of a successful company, without the void of feeling like I need to give myself as a sacrifice for the betterment of complete strangers who don’t give a flying frick about ME.

Learning how to be human, and not feeling like I need to be a selfless robot to make God proud.

Learning how to be selfish.

Saying “NO”.

Caring less about what people think.

Finding and walking in the confidence I keep trying to bury.

Embracing my different.

Setting a price for myself and making people pay above and beyond that.

As incomplete as this blog may be, I feel a lot better for not stopping halfway through and publishing 70% of how I feel about the answer to this self-provoked question, “Taking a look back on everything since 2014, what has been on my shoulders?”

Thank you, God, for everything.

I know I will live for many years healthy and well, and I look forward to the next steps that you place in front of me.

Monster Sessions is still the future, and I look forward to it helping THOUSANDS of music creatives who need it, but don’t realize it yet. I also look forward to working with future business partners and creatives.

#life stories #damemonster #who is dame taylor #life of a writer #life of a ceo #quit your job #how i became successful #success story #life lessons #inspiration

[nessyyg]

The other chosen one

Prolog

It was a typical school day. The last class was cut short, so we could go home earlier, so I had two options to choose from. I either had to wait for the next bus, which meant I had to wait for over an hour, or I could walk home for 30 minutes because I only lived one village away from my school. Even though I had to walk, I took the second option.

I don’t know if it was my biggest mistake or the best decision ever.

The best and safest way to my home was the country lane. Almost no cars or other people. Quiet with pretty views of long green fields and meadows. Everywhere you looked, there were green fields and occasionally trees, but this time something was different… This one thing was completely different. Something shone in a light blue color on one of the meadows. I didn’t know if I wanted to investigate it or not.

I decided to ignore it, something everyone would do… I hope. When I passed the meadow with the blue thing, what was on my left, apparently a circle of mushrooms, someone screamed from my right. It scared me. I looked where the scream came from, but there… there was no one, except more green meadows. I took a step back. The moment my foot touched the ground again, there was another, even louder scream.

I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t able to move or to think straight. A third scream, way louder than the two before and almost like someone was screaming just in front of me… at me. I don’t know if it was a male or female scream, but I only know that I have never heard a scream so bad that it made me cry. Tears rolled down my face while I ran to the place I first wanted to ignore.

The circle of mushrooms.

When my foot took one step into the circle, I didn’t understand what was going on. Light started to dance in the air, it got brighter, so bright that it made me close my eyes. The moment I opened my eyes again, I was lying on the ground. My head hurt, and my vision was blurred. Everything I had with me was spread on the ground. My bag and everything I had with me, were everywhere I looked. I tried to raise my head, but I was too weak. The last thing I remembered was another scream, but this time not scary at all… It was more… surprised…? Concerned...?

That was exactly one week ago. Seven days. That’s how long I have been in this world that everyone I met is calling Eldarya.

A world that I already know. A world with a story that I know. A world that I, Nessy, have to help and change, so the future can be different too. I still don’t know how, but I know if I don’t help… everyone will die.

YES! I am starting to write a story about Eldarya ANE. I´m done with Beemoov and we all know where the story is going, so I want to change it and make my own ending. All ideas are very helpful. Please don´t forget that English is not my first or second language. I tried using Grammarly for help, but I don´t if it changed much. There will be some drawings but not too often and not in those stories, just gonna post them sometimes.

I still don´t know if I like the title of my story or not. There is a possibility that I change it, but I don´t know it yet.

Hope you like it!!!

#eldarya #eldarya ane #eldarya fanfiction #eldarya story #eldarya nessy #eldarya a new era #eldarya oc #eldarya lance

[disappearinginq]

Blood, snap, and smirk?

Blood:

9-1-1 Genfic with Buck and Bobby: Because it was his fault that at his own welcome back party, Buck started choking on his own blood on the patio and again had to wake up in the hospital, unsure how he got there.

Slow Horses: Roddy was a lot of things, and despite what he told people, he was not a god. He couldn’t track information that wasn’t there. He could tell Lamb the last place it was on, which was of little help. Just an average corner of an average street, nothing and nowhere of interest nearby. Not even a bloody bus stop.

Hudson & Rex:

There was just…so much blood. In the dog’s fur, on the man’s hands, on his suit jacket and white shirt. And then the dog whined, briefly trying to lift its head, but unable to rise higher than a few inches before dropping back down. “What happened?” Linda demanded, snapping her fingers to Bailey. “Call Dr. Katz, tell her it’s an emergency and they need the OR.”

The blood welled up between Jesse’s fingers even as he pressed down hard enough to make Charlie yelp, and Rex immediately pushed his head against Charlie’s, whining.

Jesse always thought ‘blood drained from their face’ was a literary phenomena. An exaggeration, at the very least. Charlie paled so fast and so completely, he looked like a corpse, and Jesse could see the exact moment Charlie conceded to himself that maybe he wasn’t doing too well.

Charlie looked surprised to see her, his brow furrowing. “When did you- I told them not to bother you.” If Charlie had any blood left in his face, Jesse was sure he would be a violent crimson right now.

Magnum PI 2018: “Shut up!” the man with a harpoon gun snarled, jabbing the pointed end of the spear gun at Magnum’s arm, drawing blood.

It wasn’t fine. He knew it wasn’t fine. His head was killing him, and he could barely see out of one eye thanks to the blood covering it. Smirk:

9-1-1

Bobby smirked, ignoring the half hearted complaint as he picked up another piece of fruit, gently testing the firmness with a few quick squeezes. Deciding it was unripe, he placed it back on top of the pile and continued searching. “I’m not saying that you can’t cook well enough to keep yourself alive. Clearly, you can. But you’re missing the point.”

He hadn’t meant to get lost in thought, the memories making him smile absently as he perused the vegetables on display. Hadn’t even realized he’d done it until he caught Buck staring him, mouth caught somewhere between a frown and a smile that came off more of a smirk even as his brow furrowed, and Bobby assumed he must have missed a question or comment while reminiscing.

Hudson & Rex

Charlie clenched his fist, pulling it up to rest over his heart, and Rex shot to his feet, jumping up with his paws on Charlie’s chest to get a quick kiss and a hug. Sarah tried not to laugh - because Charlie really did need to work on his speech - but it was hard not to. “What’re you going to do when you need to interrogate a suspect?” Charlie smirked at that, and signaled for Rex to get down.

Umbrella Academy

“I’d rather lick battery acid,” Five growled. Diego sighed, scratching at the raised scar tissue on the side of his head. “Trust me, Five, you’re not my idea of a good choice, either. You’re not my first choice. You’re not even my last choice. You’re literally the only choice.” “Guess it’s not happening then, huh?” Five quipped with a smirk, blinking across the living room and back to the bar for his abandoned drink.

Magnum PI 2018

Thomas stared at him. He didn’t hear a single word the man said. The world faded around the edges, tunneling his vision until all he could see was Jahingir. The confident smirk on his face. The pristine white of his perahan turban, the fine embroidery of his coat along the chest. Everything about him was perfect. Pristine. And in that moment, Thomas wanted him to be as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside.

Snap:

Hudson & Rex

“What happened?” Linda demanded, snapping her fingers to Bailey. “Call Dr. Katz, tell her it’s an emergency and they need the OR.”

Magnum PI 2018

“Hey - hey, doc!” Magnum was suddenly shouting, snapping his fingers to get the nearest corpsman’s attention. “Sarge - Rick - this is important, and I need you to focus. When did you get your rabies vaccine?”

“I am not going.” He enunciated each word with such force she felt herself take a step back. “End of story. And I promise you, Robin wouldn’t make me go.” “Magnum -” He didn’t wait for her to finish whatever thought she had in mind to share, turning abruptly on his heel and marching out across the lawn, headed straight for the boat house. When one of the Lads growled at him passing, he snapped something at them to make the doberman back down almost instantly, and he continued on.

“I’ve survived worse,” Thomas snapped. He took another step and, of its own volition, his leg gave out on him, wobbling for a moment before folding like a cheap chair. He half managed to catch himself, putting one arm out to break his fall, but the jarring impact sent another spike of agony through his head.

Sometimes mere seconds passed. Other times, half an hour. He was jittery and anxious and that just made him angrier. He snapped at people for no reason. Walking too close. Talking too loud. Not having the right coffee in the lounge down the hall. For asking how he was doing. He snapped at TC for asking what he wanted to watch on the TV in his room, and then was angry over being angry for nothing.

“You can’t ask that of me,” Rick snapped, pointing a finger at him. “You don’t get to ask that. It kept me alive. It’s why I’m still here, and it’s why I have to stay, and you cannot even begin to understand how much I need it.”

Whew. That's a lot, and none of it where I expected to find it. Niiiice. Thanks for playing!

#games we play #snippets

[flutterskies-hd]

BO(U)ND - PART 1

Chapter. 1 

Fluttershy is about as normal as anyone could be as a disabled 9-year-old girl with low vision and physical scarring all over her body, it’d earned her weird looks, but it was nothing compared to the loneliness she felt when her first friend moved away in 2nd grade. In 3rd grade, she’d had no friends at all, instead she opted to spend recess latching to anyone she could, but they never liked her, she was far too “jumpy”. 

Home wasn’t much better; during the weeks she stayed with her mother, a manic-depressive psychopath who did nothing but waste money on expensive clothing instead of food, her mother was a leach, even to Fluttershy. Her Mother used her constantly for venting and always tried to force her to cry. When Fluttershy wouldn’t cry, her mother would resolve to say she’s a bad mother, knowing that always got to her and made her cry.

 

Starting her 5th grade year’s first week, Fluttershy was simply happy to be seeing her friends again on this Friday morning and this time, even made a new friend, a girl named AJ. AJ was a year older than her, quiet and reserved, preferring to draw and watch anime rather than going anywhere but AJ loved her family a lot, so Fluttershy understood why she’d want to be home so much. She breathed in the calm September air once off the bus and went to the wall where AJ stood, though it was a small school building, she enjoyed this school much more than the one she had no friends in, that was large and scary.  

“Good morning.” It took AJ a second to grasp that she was being spoken to, “Morning.” she said flatly and the two girls rounded the corner, Fluttershy sat and AJ crouched across from her, the gravel was warm on Fluttershy’s thighs and the sun beating down on her face was relaxing but then she moved to her knees, “Wanna talk about anime?” She asked, since Fluttershy was trying more now to get into anime, she figured AJ would be a good person to get the basics from, “Sure,” AJ said, Fluttershy could never figure her out, who she was or what her motives were, though she didn’t have much time to guess. “Can I talk with you guys?” A girl appeared, making Fluttershy crane her neck, ‘A new friend!’ she thought, standing to meet the gaze of the tall girl with long rainbow coloured hair which Fluttershy thought was so pretty. 

“I’m Fluttershy!” She took the tall girl's hand, who nervously shook it, her hand was wonderfully soft and pale, the touch made Fluttershy hesitate to pull her off hand from the other girl. “What’s your name?” The tall girl looked flustered and a little scared as she pulled her hand away, “Rain...” Fluttershy didn’t catch the last of her mumbling, “Uh, what was that?” The girl just mumbled again but she no longer needed her to say it, “Rainbow Dash!” another girl shouted, and Rainbow Dash groaned, seemingly losing her shy and quiet personality in an instant. “Who’s that?” Fluttershy asked, in the distance, she could barely see the girl who came running before her attention was snatched by Rainbow Dash running off. 

Fluttershy turned and almost took off with her but quickly checked in with AJ, “You okay if I go?” she asked quickly, earning a shrug from AJ. She ran, following Rainbow to the corner, a dead end with a chain link fence greeted them both. “That’s Gilda.” Rainbow Dash answered her, “She thinks she’s my friend because I know nobody else here.” she scoffs, “It’s fucking stupid.” Fluttershy was shocked, she’d never heard that language from anyone but adults. “You swear?” she asked in disbelief and Rainbow nodded, hands on her hips. “Yeah? If anyone tries to get me in trouble for it, I just lie and say I didn’t do it,” she said proudly, she was only seeming more intriguing and cooler by the second, “That or I just say I said something different.” She shrugs, the bell rings for morning classes to start. Fluttershy follows obediently behind her, watches her brush off Gilda when she tries to speak then, they enter the school. “This is my class.” Rainbow mentions.  

“Will I see you at recess?” 

“I... guess?” 

The two girls parted ways in the hallway. Fluttershy didn’t pay attention all throughout her morning classes, she was much too focused on Rainbow Dash, she liked that name, her face, how soft her skin was, she liked how edgy and cool she appeared, her disregard for rules and authority was so appealing to the young girl, she hoped so much that they’d see each other again at recess and that she wouldn’t lose track of her like she did at the old school with so many people. She wouldn’t let it happen again. 

By recess, Fluttershy changed her shoes and ran outside, finding Rainbow Dash looking lost. “Rainbow Dash, right?” The taller girl turned to face the younger, “Yeah...” Rainbow scratched her arm, “So what things do you like?” Fluttershy asked, walking with Rainbow Dash toward a long dirt path filled with pebbles and slightly larger rocks. Rainbow clicked her tongue, “Have you ever heard of the Wonderbolts?” she asks, Fluttershy wracks her brain but shakes her head, “Well, it’s awesome,” Rainbow begins, “They’re a band and my favourite member is Surprise, I have a massive crush,” Fluttershy thought that was a strange name for a boy, “...on her. Though she’s super underrated.” Rainbow finished. “She?” Fluttershy asked, “Yeah, she. I’m a lesbian.” 

Lesbian was a word that Fluttershy had only heard once or twice when her mother made strange comments about women who seemed intimate with other women. “I like girls.” Rainbow narrowed it down, “Actually, just Surprise but you get what I mean.” Fluttershy thought to herself, on one hand she’d gotten Rainbow Dash to open to her and on the other, Fluttershy was starting to question how she felt when she first saw Rainbow Dash. “I think you’d like Blaze.” Fluttershy committed the name of the band and the member to memory for later when she’d be at her grandmother’s place. It wasn’t long for the bell signaling the end of the 20-minute break was up and afternoon classes began. Once insisde to take off her shoes, Fluttershy mumbled some analytics to herself, “If she likes girls...and I’m a girl and I like her, maybe she might like me too.” The thought of it made her sick in a good way. As usual, she didn’t pay the slightest attention in class, focused solely on her new friend’s interests. 

By the time Fluttershy had got off the bus and toward her grandmother’s house, she greeted her dad and her grandma, she grabbed her tablet that her dad kept, right away she searched for the band on YouTube. She listened to one song, then another, trying to get used to the music. There were all sorts of genres to pick from that the band sang, there seemed to be no consistency with a lead singer which made it easy to enjoy each individual member. Fluttershy listened to the music until she had to sleep, excited for school again to see Rainbow Dash.

#flutterskies-hd #flutterskies #fluttersky #mlp #mlp horror #mlp humanized #mlp human au #mlp humanisation #mlp rainbow dash #mlp fluttershy #mlp applejack #fanfic #fan fiction #mlp fanfic #mlp g4 #flutterdash #bo(u)nd mlp

[riverrevived]

The Samson Situation (pt. 1)

The sky above beginning to darken, fading to a grey with a greenish tint, the road ahead was quiet. There was the occasional gunshot, but Archer had long grown used to those, and until the sound grew nearer, he knew he was not in any immediate danger. He stepped out of the penultimate house in what once must have been a nice quiet farming town, satisfied that it was safe from any of the… people? Creatures? He was never sure what to call them. They were once people, and to rob themselves of their identity simply for an illness would be inhumane – he knew that better than most – but their feral behaviour and lack of anything that made them people meant that even for Archer, the Scorched were hard to have any sympathy for. He quickly entered the final house along this part of his route and began to clear it, quickly but methodically. He was growing ever aware of how his stop to help the farmers up near Grafton had delayed his usual schedule, and in his rush to maintain some sense of structure in his day he nearly missed it. Sat on a small cabinet just left of the front door as he was exiting was what seemed to be the front cover and first few pages of some sort of book. As he picked it up and examined it a little closer, Archer soon realised that the spine of what soon revealed itself to be a journal had broken, and he could only imagine that this had fallen apart from the rest of the book. He was unsure how long it had been there for, as it wasn’t unlikely that he had simply not noticed it before on these solo patrols, but the dust and grime seen on everything else in the ruined building wasn’t present on the pages.

As he turned it over in his hands, Archer carefully opened the front cover so as not to damage the journal any further, and began to read. The pages looked a little yellowed, but the penmanship was beautiful, if not a little inconsistent. The first page was mostly blank, but the top of the page, in long-dried black ink cursive writing, read “The Gift of Destruction: Full version by Samson Abbott, original notes by Father Isiah Abbott”. Intrigued a little by the title, and motivated by his want to do good by returning this to whoever it may have belonged to, should they still be around, he read on.

“In a time of faithless ingratitude, many in this wasteland are lost. Shepherdless. An occurrence predicted by many, yet stopped by none. In fact, those who aimed to help simply worsened the inevitable. A little background first, before I reconstruct the writings that make up this book. The original writings are by my father, Isiah Abbott. A true man of God. I am his son, Samson, and the one chosen to spread the word of his prophecy. As the war brewed, my father knew that it was God’s plan. He told all he could of the news, and encouraged them to embrace the gift that we were to be given. This mission took us away from our home, away from his sister who helped raise me, and away from his parents and my cousins. He had reached out to more local publishers, but none saw the value of his work. When, finally, one reached out to him, we travelled west to the heart of Appalachia to finally do the good that we were chosen to do. It was there that things were pulled from us. I was seven at the time. Father took the new stage of the capital into his stride. He boycotted the building of that vaults, trying to show the world that we should not reject the inevitable gift that we were to be provided, else we may invoke his wrath. They did not listen. He wrote down his visions and how he anticipated our blessings should we embrace them, but the intention he was drawing stunted his progress greatly. When the day finally came, we stepped out to watch the sky and embrace His gift. Father tried to save those he could, to draw them away from the blasphemy of the vaults, but none would listen. He failed his purpose that day, and he suffered for it. The Lord took him that day, stripping of the gift he so desired, but that was not all. Man had a final act. One more rejection of our saviour. They took me. The one surviving holder of my father’s knowledge, dragged to a place devoid of His truth. I was there all this time, but I have not forgotten. And now, I will continue my purpose. I will embrace his gift. And I will show this wasteland the truth.”

Any further writing was presumably lost in wherever the rest of this journal lay, although his motivation turned into reluctance the further he read on. He’d dealt with cultists before with the New Responders, but even those who dedicated their lives to the Mothman never seemed so intent on the destruction of the pre-war world. He lingered in the doorway of the house for a moment, unsure if he should report any of this back to one of the Sergeants, but as the darkening sky loomed over him, he cast the thought aside. Tucking the journal into the pocket of his well-worn coat, he continued on down the road to where he’d be staying for the night. Whoever wrote that was clearly not quite with it, Archer thought, convincing himself more than anything else. Content with the fact that this meant they probably hadn’t survived for too long after writing it, he settled by the campfire for the night, giving in to any distractions to take his mind off it.

#fallout 76 #oc #ic rp #roleplay #fallout

[renatedagmarmilada]

but you didn’t say why?

sitting by my computer Vickers  Road, Sheffield,

 just hounded out of London 

which I had so loved ..very soon to be hounded out of this house too.. came this message…

‘Every part of this country will be your concentration camp..

every Church, 

every shop, 

every cinema,

 every house, 

every bus, 

every car, 

every human being.

  We have no room for concentration Camps

 like in your country (eh?) 

so just take it, 

even in your toilet, 

you are in concentration Camp.

  There is a tiny darkened studio

 in the labarynths of the B.B.C…..

..Sydney tinkers there’

O.K.  They meant it, but what the heck for?

  I TRIED TO THINK OF WHAT I HAD EVER DONE WRONG…

.NOTHING.

BRITISH ART IS DEAD Not my quote… But quoted to me in July of 2003… Why Because of Human Researches plundering and maximizing my work amongst its friends and Staff.. Again I quote ‘’just give a few famous a few bits and robbing her  will work’’

Alison who traced my pictures for design ..Planet .. Has been given a painting of mine And the other thieves We are not talking of Al and the other fine artists asked to blend and copy with the promise the State would get them recognition.. No this lot have already had one go at my work, Lucinda at Marks and Spencers, and Stan’s niece Stasie at Laura Ashley’s and Doctor ‘Meyer’s’ niece……………..and so on.. The Professors asked to down mark me, also given my work, gave it to a niece.. And Francene given my poetry and published by the Lab is now to be given all my drawings to use… Yes, british art is dead.. The british tradition of theft and murder are well known since time began, and they always have to pay a price..what will the price be this time one wonders….? Stealing from elderly ladies who were refugees and helpless.

Levee Enemy alien 10/Aug/89 The Bus winding Blend all her work  in

Arriving entrant Hoping to share your land of pleasant green By invitation of its anglo – saxons Make it ours affiliated now seen

You forebade us Privileges withheld: you say Prove yourself By staying Maybe a generation - Thinks then – no,three Then / we’ll tell you then

give a little of the work to a few famous and we’ll get away with giving the rest to our Lab Staff and friends and selling them through our sources

Daily dedication To uphold your lies – mouthy humiliation We stay Give all Exchange our present For a glimpse of your distant / glory Your orders…… for decades; You discard us Like your litter, Blemish in words and deeds you say By your untouchable / Defences

Keep repeating the programme with its torture Mental and physical, with added continued sexual harrasement Over and over again in waves Keep repeating the work taken With its mental torture on the automatic answerer Over and over again in waves Do you know why no one will believe you Because it is so horrible It is beyond believing And barely describable.. Not the first time in our system But never as terrible as this Artists are a delight to destroy Helpless females and their helpless offspring By so many of us…

Reactions of deference turn to astonishment “we didn’t come to fight”, unspoken wars expected freedom, refuge, security promised by you Thoughts hide our fears Growing daily. Three generations you said Hypocrits above with more secrets than Hilter Subjected to malevolence Gargantuan terror presses unease mamoth Churchill’s betrayal continues Bloated with strings of time Yet all we wanted was to walk in step with you! Now blend it all in…. 11/Aug/89

HOMMERTON HOSPITAL TORTURING NOW           “Why won’t you?”        steve Each line a notch Carved by the passage of time Talks ins pattern; in visions Of visible pain, of hardships

Etched but never sketched Though they were all artists Marking all life’s blotches We wanted so much to trust you Forgotten yet recorded in molecular Structure. The reality As it was

Not that smooth surface Ordered by fashion By society, by the other half Who seeing, doesn’t want to see Uncomfortable messages Told by real women Requests for flawless beauty Unmarked by truth. Comfort in hiding paradoxes Women needs tread Covering what is Gently organised witch hazel Peering at the world from the eyes of some one else A relished mask of demands Unheeded loneliness in endless female Crowds

Final payment discarding False appearances Presences of nature Preserves demanded Mala fide

11/Aug/89

        I gave my Dave a german love heart made of ginger bread for our wedding anniversary the twentieth He had to go to work… THE WHOLE TRIAL WAS USELESS A FAMILY OF EAST EUROPEAN ARTISTS WAS DESTROYED FOR A HANDFUL OF JEWISH SEX PERVERTS I Came to you With open heart and filled with love Wanting to give of myself Hoping to receive by learning from you. You Shut me out! Knowing me as you do, more than all others or so I thought

My fear of the outside, a circle ever locked Kept shut against us, woman and child Suspicious,questioning all motives Only love shown to you You drove us away We,not sure, stripped by your indifference were merely traumatized.

I Thought you’d care Knowing, seeing us You, withdrew Bewildered, wounded Taunted Don’t understand Your Denial of me, of us When I ask you why You mumble “not meant” for whom?

And cannot add The children all miss you Why do you never come at least to see Once in every few weeks…

11/Aug/89 SO YOU TAMPERED WITH ALL HER EXAM RESULTS SINCE YOU TOOK OVER THEIR LIVES TWENTY YEARS AGO WIPE THAT OFF THE PROGRAMME NEXT. THAT IS AGAINST US NO ONE NEEDS TO KNOW THE TRUTH.. Necessity deems dignity Verbal orgasm created By normality! Secret truths screeching through walls of density To be seen by those whose senses taste Dictated years of empty bliss Filled years of life, Giving life and love Anihalating quite regardlessly Creeping, crawling burdens of joy Turned sin by laws and science Their aged futures soured by nothingness Past or present disappeared In duty Left only in album images Tear stained memories of sweetness Told in toil He remembers me as foreigner Not as his wife Cultures they say And his children as strangers

Instantenously better or worse Did we have love? I loved.

11/Aug/89           rita evans

so the story of Rita to all the readers of Woman’s realm became the story of another jewess another story she had helped herself to from all my stories the English now think are all jewish stories..

Rita went to School with me And Rita was a Lincolnshire lass as Lincolnshire as can be In Scunthorpe town we did our time Not rich enough for the Grammar School With short straight blonde cropped hair And a big toothy grin Radiating sunshine for all to see

Rita laughed a lot And had a dad in jail And lived in a nice house There by the posh part of town (We lived at the bottom end In the terraces under the salt and pepper pots) At the back of Canter Frances’ Saleroom Where each week I was found

Their furniture was all reclaimed And a nasty English girl In our Church of England school And my, were some of the girls nasty And the Headmistress at times Patronizing foreigners with such a smile Said her mum was on the game Cause she went out to work each night But I didn’t care Rita was my pal..

And when she had her birthday We played tiggy ‘cause they had no lights And didn’t bother with a birthday tea Though her brother was starving Cause they had no food Though Rita and I would paint And could that girl paint Except one can of cat food Which her little brother ate And those C. of  E girls were a spiteful lot Cause Rita always had a smile And told me what their strange dishes were like…

EVERY HUMAN SHE MEETS MUST WRONG HER

The most hated, forgotten, loved remembered Person Exposed in seconds Smiles bidden on corner walls Lifted by gates of guardianship Words twisted by knots of warmth to wear Tears the unravelled machines spinning Shaft lined heated coals, held up by Splintered sections of medical stringencies Never touched rolling waves, carving pain to empty sunsets we taught the Prince to play on the machine they crooned across the radio waves disturbing with cursing for twenty years or more but I cared more about the Princess who advised romance and showed what a real lady she was not a crass killing Windsor or, what was their German cousin’s name?

Friends of sharing enemies of sincerity Saviour of wounds / to eat at the same tables Always recalling its dream / strangers with scalpels Closer than the minimal untouchables Wavering , splitting shrapnels intense In transference

Pure pain Leaving nothing in sadistic deeds. Saving alone Tears pour in a deluge of words But never of her brave deeds in the past She smothers them with chat And leaves only me to repeat the little Which I remember from my small childlife Spoken in the distance to her man Who would whisper in awe She was a clever woman was your mother Life was brave and heroic then, told in damp gropings through broken ribs and cracked pelvis of researches playing and withdrawing of any help for wuch a heroine gone are the days of lying to the General Staff to save ‘our boys’ at Lidice and the days of yelling at the generals for ‘her girls’ food at the camps…

only one more day then eternal rest might come sighing messages betrayed by jews totally unbelievable to us torn from the barbed climbing bars of anglo saxon assault courses in our new stairway to a future trying to understand before madmen tear it all away. Babbling questions All over again As the children call “another dachshund. Run german dog—“ Why? with each burst I come from the East

We didn’t mean it, it was all an avalanche To reach those gates of escape

Hazardous life revealing its martyrs Searing passions stirred by prayer Passions dormant coveted in a spider’s web With the sorrow of stupid jibes Wistfulness combines into emptiness The sum total of your hate All post has again been taken And those three men termed doctors Tortured you in China….

In the suitcase found the tablets Robbed from a chinese flat by british research! The cries of the persecuted rise up to ALLAH Nothing can stop them….

12/Aug/89 Regensburg --- and the TB WE TOLD THEM WE HELPED HER WE DIDN’T SAY JUST A HAND TO HELP HER UP A MOUNTAIN BY THE UNIVERSITY GEOLOGY GROUP Kill the snake which enters your house It seemed then in the roof top medical dormitory Time came in lengths measured by a snow white wimple After the worst winter of a hundred year Myself and laughter heard the clicking beads Smiling suns and giggling breezes skipped along the roof Chortling grasses and their spoofs, slurping streams and solid hooves leave scars still visible taken for a tumble.. When was it?

The snake sleeping carried in the man’s pocket Though taken to safety Will bite him to death Upon its waking… So says the Chinese proverb.

Wrapped a boiled sheet around the middle Then the world became dumb And everything disappeared Recovered when wretched winter nights pierced Joy ending for seconds of prayer A northern frozen fairy tale unheard by fever Of naked hands hoping for life When was it?

Despairing mutant of numbing clouds Waiting in that senseless room with the praying nun Where was it?

Each day, sounds started the second-story man Recovering daily out of the tram Reconstituted imitations as trees began to blossom But a memory lingers over manipulations Digging out emotions and sorrows Nothing returns effectiveless Strerile they call it in articulation Homelessness is its name Where was it?

12/Aug/89 Marriage is the strongest foundation of friendship..

They tell me I am wrong Denying being Explain. Think as others.   Thinking I think me Refusing denials of pain and smile crazily Who’s crazy, you or me..? But these mixed marriages They believe the individual We the family And they build no foundations….

I am not crazy Refuting all your brain washing I prefer to puncture my own mind Embroider my own cells and make my spells To find what I may that’s not necromancy Is it annoying your book keeping?

To others  I can’t see Don’t want to see as they see their seeing How, no questions? To inspect the ashes of our lies and that life Building new fires from its cinders of knowledge Left behind before the wind fire blasts again Blows all away Refusing to be forgotten Disappear   It’s not healthy They cry disarmed

History to future returned Culling to learn Setting fire to utopia Unthinkable, unfindable By initiated smiles and guffaws skill judged.

NOW THE STAY AWAKE ALL NIGHT TORTURE STARTED BY THE INDIAN HUMAN RESEARCH PIG IN CHINA THEY ARE ELDERLY WOMEN TORTURE AT WILL THEY CAN’T FIGHT BACK… 10/Aug/89 Sheffield had a red brick Uni Silent eye full of knowing Inhabiting their glass tower growing Of a million billion selected words Divulged to the few and that Kurd DOCTOR MEYER INSISTS ON SEX EVEN IF IT CONSTITUTES RAPE NOT EDUCATION SHE IS ONLY A HOUSEWIFE.. We the privileged on our pew Those syringed globes spew floating oil filled sounds oozes opacity A capacity reached with Echoes To use? who will chose? For whose purpose

To build future reverberations of a new world taught Avalanches of thought And the real knowledge That’s for others with courage Those who just live The uneducated not quite real humanity That invisible barrier, Uncrossable distaining distances Twixt borders man made and woman created Roaring the answer in perfect grammatical order We have it all ours is the future Shrieking silently we have to tell them Sell nothing and yell to them It just doesn’t work for the worm.. Match the task to the capability. KEEPING on TAKING HER HAIR OUT WHICH FELIX OF BERLIN AND PAKISTANI USMA BEGAN.. IT IS THE NORMAL PUNISHMENT FOR THE MAD  BY US. SHE IS A TEACHER SHE NEEDS EXTRA PUNISHMENT FOR THIS CRIME AND HAVING THE GIFT OF ART WHICH MUST ALL BE ROBBED FROM HER.. THEY MUST BE LEFT NOTHING IN OUR CONTROL OF THEIR LIVES OR WE WILL BE FOUND OUT… NOTHING.. NOT EVEN NORMAL FRIENDSHIP WE OF HUMAN RESEARCH WILL DESTROY ALL AND EVERYTHING.. EXCUSE WE ARE MAKING THE PROGRAMME OUTLAWED BY AMERICA..’’WORK’’ AS DID AUSCHWITZ SO LONG AGO….

[wornoutmouse]

Look I wrote this for my friend but i popped the hell off with this one so if you don’t mind reading a name inbetween a few dialogue points pls read

You ran hurriedly through the halls of the school as the third bell finally rang. You had overslept and had barely made it onto the bus. Skidding to a stop, you slow down when you get to the door, catching your breath before entering. Just as you annoyingly expected, eyes dart towards you as soon as you entered, effectively catching the teacher’s attention.

 “This is the second time you are late young lady, one more time and I will have no choice but to write you up.” You smile awkwardly, “Sorry Miss, it won’t happen again.”  Ms. Bustier clicks her tongue disapprovingly as she watched her student walk to her seat, head hanging low. You sit down in your chair with a soft sigh as Ms. Bustier spoke about today’s lesson.

For the most part, you pay attention to the lesson being taught, that is until your attention is being interrupted by a pencil poking your side. From your peripheral vision, you see fluffy blond hair swaying gently to get your attention. You mutter under your breath, swiping the pencil with your hand, “Quit it Adrien I’m already in trouble.” The boy huffs but the playful aura still hung around making your skin buzz with excitement.

 Shifting in your seat, you squint your eyes at the smartboard, writing down notes every so often. Looking down once again, you notice a small piece of paper folded, You look at Adrien who boredly watched your teacher speak. Opening the paper you roll your eyes at the note inside. 

A - Late again are you Miss Mia? One more time and I might have to wake you up myself

Nibbling the tip of your pencil you write a note back, crumpling the paper before tossing it at Adrien’s head with a smirk.

You- Well maybe I wouldn’t have been so tired if you hadn’t interrupted my study time with your modeling rants

The paper is tossed back at your head, catching in your curly hair, making Adrien snort.

A- Well I can think of other ways to keep you up at night...

You cough loudly at the message, eyes darting at Adrien’s laid-back figure. You scribble down a quick snarky reply with shaking hands. You go to pass the paper but the sound of a throat clearing interrupts you. You turn to your left and are forced to look up, gulping when you notice your teacher’s signature white blazer. She holds her hand out and you reluctantly place the ball of paper in her hand.

“While I will not embarrass you by reading out your hidden messages, I will embarrass you by writing you up for detention.” Sputtering, you point an accusing finger at the smug boy behind you, “He started it first I was just..” You are hushed by a firm hand on your shoulder, “Well if that’s the case, both you and Adrien can join each other at study hall.” Adrien groans behind you and you throw a glare his way, one that he responds with a teasing wink. The sound of the bell ringing grimly reminds you of the dreadful time awaiting you in study hall after school.

 When you get thereAdrien is already there and waves you over to him. You narrow your eyes at him but sit next to him anyway. “Aww don’t look at me like that Mi, it’s not my fault you aren’t stealthy enough to pass a simple note in class.” You roll your eyes, “Well if you weren’t tossing notes like a child, we wouldn’t be here either.” Adrien laughs loudly earning a sharp look from the detention monitor. 

He mutters a silent apology as you busy yourself with a notepad and pencil. The study hall is silent and boring and 11 minutes feel like 11 hours as the clock ticks by. Adrien watches your small scribbles turn into different shapes and sizes. Before long, he notices you drawing a rather familiar face. “Whatcha drawing?” You shrug, watching your pencil make the shape of cat-like ears.

You continue drawing, briefly recognizing Adrien’s body heat as he watches over your shoulder. “You like Chat Noir huh?” Your precise pencil strokes outline the lean frame of one of Paris’s heros. While it is undoubtedly Chart Noir in a heroic setting, the way his eyes slant a little more than his mask allows and the way one of his hands rested on his chest did give way to a more seductive undertone. 

“Yeah, I think he’s pretty hot not gonna lie.” Adrien hums, the feeling of his short breaths blowing against your shoulder makes you shiver. “Really? Well, he can’t be hotter than I can he?” Adrien fluffs his hair pompously as he stretches his body lazily. “I don’t know maybe a little.” Adrien sticks his tongue out at you.

Your monitor stands up and walks towards the door before turning around, “Listen you two, I am going to get lunch, and I better see you two here when I come back or you’ll get worse than detention.” The teacher fixes you both with a long look before leaving. “They are a little stiff in the ass.” You chuckle resting your head on your palm. Adrien slouches in his chair to play on his phone, giving you the perfect opportunity to observe him. Your friend is attractive, that is something you’ve come to terms with a long time ago, hiding your crush away deep in your mind. 

“You like to stare at me when you think?” His tenor voice startles you out of thought and you realize you now have his full attention. Your face is warm and for once you are glad you couldn’t visibly blush. 

“Hey, Adrien? What did you mean by that last message you passed me in class?” You tried to pass the question off as casual but you could feel your heart racing as the room filled with daunting silence. “What do you think I meant?” 

Suddenly Adrien felt too close and the room felt smaller. When you made eye contact with him, his eyes were slanted just like Chat Noirs on your drawing. “You tell me.” You said boldly. Adrien pondered for a while, green eyes observing your features, going from your eyes, down your nose before finally resting on your plump lips. “Well, I think it meant exactly what it said.” Adrien placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh in his palm. “So tell me why you like Cat Noir?” You stare at nothing, unable to compute the absurd request that came seemingly out of nowhere.

“What?” Adrian’s hand doesn’t stop moving on your thigh, heating your skin through your jeans. “Come on Mi, humor me for a moment.” You hum softly in an attempt at calming your heart rate. “Well, I like how he seems to enjoy what he does,  saving people...” As you speak Adrien takes the time to scoot closer to you paying a sparing glance at the door your teacher left out of a moment ago. “What would you do if you met him?” His hands got closer to your inner thigh fiddling with your belt loops.

The urge to clench your legs together was immediate as the fire within you grew stronger. “I would thank him for his service and-” Adrien shushes you with the sound of your belt clinking a loose. “Let me rephrase, what do you want him to do to you?” Before you had comprehended your predicament, Adrien’s hand had found itself inside your pants.

You were sitting rigidly in your chair, lips parted in a silent exhale. Slender fingers focused themselves on your swelling bud, pressing soft circles on it in an effort to coax it out of its hood. Noting your tensed posture, Adrien tries to distract you. He’ll admit even to himself that this was a bold move on his part and he was surprised you hadn’t pushed him off at this point. “I can stop if you want me to?” You feel his fingers stop their ministrations and you quickly grab his wrist. “No!”

His concerned demeanor is quickly wiped away by a broad smirk as his fingers resumed their task. “Okay then.” He places a kiss on your shoulder through your shirt making you shiver. “You didn’t answer my question.” You nod and try to speak in a stable manner. “I would want him to- oh god!” Adrien’s fingers began to work overtime as they went down to your lips, now wet with your arousal. “I would want him to touch me there! Please.” 

Lips latched lazily on your skin, sucking hard enough for you to feel it but not hard enough for marks to be left behind. “Where is’ there’ Mia? Use your words.” Your back arched in your chair when you felt his slick index finger playfully dip inside of you before returning to your clit.  “Adrien~” Your soft moans were audible now, and every small whimper made his cock ache at the thought of being the cause of your sweet noises. Adrien mockingly hummed, “Oh I see now.”

“You want him to fuck that pretty pussy of yours don’t you?”  You make a strange noise that is a mix of surprise and a moan. You’d never think words like those could leave Adrien’s mouth. “Y-Yes!”  Adrien nodded moving to use both hands now, it was an awkward position but it was worth it seeing you fall apart by his hands. “I bet you think of him at night, kissing you slowly, while his hands roam your body.”  Adrien sinks his teeth in your shoulder blade making you jerk as a particularly hard burst of pleasure racks your body. “You look so damn sexy like this kitty cat.’

You lean forward, holding yourself up by your desk as Adrien’s fingers move faster on your clit. “I can feel how fast your heart is beating, you gonna cum?” The teasing tone in his voice ignited the smallest ounce of competitiveness within you. You grit your teeth and shake your head, “Don’t get so full of yourself Agreste.” Your eyes clenched shut at the feeling of a finger finally entering you. Adrien looked at you with narrowed eyes. He wasn’t a fan when you got competitive, especially when you were obviously bluffing.

There was a thin layer of sweat forming on your skin as your orgasm got closer. Adrien focused on the way your walls quivered around his finger. Your choked-back moans cut the air as he pumps his finger faster. Your wetness was dripping onto your underwear and around his palm making squelching noises. “Are you sure you aren’t going to cum?” Adrien whispered close to your ear taking glee when a tremor passed down your spine. Your orgasm was too damn close for him to stop so you decide to swallow your pride just this once. “F-faster, Adrien, I’m close.” Those were indeed the wrong words to say. Adrien slowed his finger down to slow pumps while his thumb pressed harshly on your clit. He laughed as he could practically feel it throbbing, “I thought you said you weren’t going to cum?” You try to grind down on his hand, bucking slightly as his rough palm stimulated your sensitive lips. “Don’t be an ass ah-fuck!”

You grip the edge of your desk as you finally cum on his hand. Your eyelids flutter and Adrien marvels that the feeling of your cunt that was squeezing him so tightly he could neither tell if it was pulling him in or pushing him out. 

You grunt as he removes his finger, when you look over at him, he is preoccupied with pulling his cock out while licking his fingers clean of your cum. Adrien whimpered around his fingers as his other hand jerked his cock sharply “Ah, you taste better than I thought.” Your eyes travel down his chest to meet his junior. It was thick and surprisingly long. You couldn’t help but feel sorrow for the angry red it was at the tip. But the vein traveling up the side made your mouth water.

His hips bucked to meet his hand desperately. Curses left his soft lips as he tossed his head back in pleasure. A deep warmth flooded your gut from the vibrant imagery of him fucking you with it. “Mia-ah shit.” You raise your head up to meet his eyes, your heart skipping a beat at how the green of his eyes was almost completely drowned by his pupils. “It’s not fair if I helped you get you off, but you won’t help me.” You scootch forward a little bit, swallowing your saliva, “What do you want me to do?” Adrien spread his legs with his hands holding the sides of his chair, “Come on Mi, I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’ve already gone dumb?” 

A hand comes on your shoulder and gently coaxes you down to your knees. You feel small as Adrien peers down at you,  gaze disrupted as his cock begins twitching in front of you. Nervousness enters your head as you quickly come to the realization of how large his dick actually was. “What, are you afraid Mia? Or do I need to get you into the mood?”  Adrien sits up straighter, “Claws out.”  Your tilt your head curious as he combs his fingers through his hair, revealing...cat ears? The sight of a green glow slithering around his body was almost as unnerving as the sight of his outfit changing right before you. 

In little as no time flat, Paris’s neighborhood hero sat in front of you in all his leather glory. His eyes seemed even greener than before, and his personality seemed to change right before you. “Adrien you’re Chat Noir!?” The blond shrugs nonchalantly, gripping his cock and slapping it against your cheek. “Mi I am all for the formalities, but I am so close to fucking your brains out right now, that I think it would be in your best interest to start sucking.” While still being conscious of your hairstyle, Adrien...Noir, pulls your head closer to his groin.

You resist the urge to scrunch your face at the feeling of precum being smeared on your mouth and chin. This resistance only makes Noir chuckle, “Stick your tongue out for me.”  As if it was routine, you do as he says and moan softly from the feeling of his tip tapping your warm muscle. “So fucking perfect for me.”  The praise makes you clench and gives you the courage to open your mouth wider. You suck on his member making him release a pleased growl. His hand laid limply on the back of your head as you take the lead.

The salty taste while slightly unpleasant, wholly addictive. Feeling your growing comfort, Adrien begins thrusting to meet your mouth. The tip of his cock goes all the way to the back of your throat making you choke before dragging back but the sounds of you struggling doesn’t dissuade him. The feeling of your tongue grazing over his vein just before your throat constricted around him drove him wild. Your tiny whimpers made his balls vibrate as he moved faster.

You place your hands on his thighs in order to stable yourself as his thrusts got more brutal. Slob collected around your mouth before dripping down your chin and finally collected by his balls every time they hit your jaw. “Fuck I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum!” Adrien’s voice pitched higher as his claws scratched into the wooden chair of his seat. His head tossed back violently as his thrusts became sloppy, legs shaking. Loud sobs left his mouth as you bright him closer to the edge each thrust is accentuated by filthy words. “Your mouth is so. fucking. Tight. Fuck Mia!”

You felt cum shoot down your throat as Adrien holds your head painfully against this crotch. He weakly thrusts into your mouth a few more times before realizing you. Gasping for air, you wipe your mouth of saliva and look up at Adrien as he catches his breath.  Rough hands grip your chin making you look up at him. “You looked wrecked Mi.” Adrien laughs as he wipes cum off the corner of your mouth.  You stand up wobbly and albeit a bit light-headed, Adrien stands with you and kisses your lips, enjoying the taste of himself in your mouth.

“We are going to finish this later.” Before your brain could even prompt you to ask, the bell rings signaling that detention was over. Adrien deactivates his miraculous before grabbing his backpack and leaving detention hall.

#adrien agreste smut #anime smut #miraculous smut #chat noir smut #smut

[nopelleen]

Perish, Pretty Please (5/5)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rick Flag was known to be a pretty good leader, it was the reason why he had been chosen to lead a squad of infamously reckless and idiotic criminals, however it was a lot harder to maintain his authority when one member of the team despised his guts for seemingly no reason.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Rick Flag x Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.7k

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: it took me so long, but it’s finally there -- the last part! I started this fanfiction knowing I had a tendency not to finish them and I’m honestly so proud right now, I hope you’ll enjoy this last part as much as I enjoyed writing all of this! (also please let’s all have a moment of silence to remember the moment my hopeful, foolish ass actually posted the first part with “1/2″ in the title)

“Nope, there’s something we gotta take care of first."

You watched with blatant bafflement as the three men nonchalantly walked away from the blazing truck that had been transporting them merely minutes ago. There was almost a bit of disappointment in your heart as you watched the plan you and Cleo had so meticulously orchestrated on your way here vanish into thin air. It was a shame – your rescue plan involved a lot more wow factor. Had you known the outcome of this small drawback, you wouldn’t have put so much effort into it; but how could you have guessed the three of them would find a way out of a van guarded by multiples soldiers all the while handcuffed and therefore supposedly incapacitated? That was absurd.

“Don’t look so surprised, it’s insulting.”

You shot Flag a tight lipped, mocking smile as a response to his friendly jab, clearly recognizing the words you had used against him in the afternoon. Your sardonic grimace poorly mirrored the playful smirk the colonel adorned as he walked towards the van, and you were surprised to feel your heart swell a bit when you noticed his smile spread into a genuine one as he walked past you, slightly shaking his head in amusement.

Without even questioning how they had gotten themselves out of that prickly situation, you whirled around and followed suit as Rick climbed back into the van, telling Milton the small change of plan. That one enthusiastically nodded before happily informing the squad that you’d reach the city by dawn, making you realize you had spent a good chunk of the night at that bar and yet did not feel that tired yet – which might just have been from the adrenaline released into your system at the sight of your three teammates walking out of a blazing vehicle.

“You sleep, I watch Thinker,” Nanaue suggested as he heavily lumbered towards the back of the van, where the hostage was surprisingly staying very still, wise enough not to attempt anything while sharing the same space as King Shark.

Your steps faltered as you entered the van, your gaze hesitatingly flickering towards the seats in the back which appeared way too crowded for your liking. You usually would’ve simply gone back to your seat at the front, but Rick was now occupying the one near the window, probably as a way to stay close to the driver.

With a reluctant sigh, you were about to follow King Shark towards the back when Rick casted a pointed look towards you before patting the seat beside him in case you did not understand.

Relief washed over you and you didn’t even need to give it a second thought before flopping onto the space beside him, glad not to have to settle for a spot anywhere near Peacemaker. Your muscles were stiff as you quite literally bounced onto the cushion, and as soon as your back did as much as graze the backrest, the entire day of walk, hours of dancing and minutes of worrying about Flag’s well-being caught up with you with a dizzying speed.

If earlier that day you had been able to fight off sleep vigorously, you now found yourself melting into the cushion of your seat as soon as you flopped onto it. At first, you remained steadfast, refusing to yield to your basic human needs as you forced yourself to sit up straight, but then there was a strong gravitational pull making you sway a bit on your seat as your head started lolling forward, and then another pull – Rick’s hand, this time – gently steering you back into your seat. Incapable of fending off the drowsiness any longer, you surrendered and finally allowed yourself to loosen up, feeling your head snugly land upon Rick’s shoulder as you drifted off into a soundless sleep.

-----

“Outburst, hey!”

“She’s sleeping.”

From his seat at the very back of the van, Peacemaker frowned as he craned his neck in an attempt to peer at your figure still slumped over Rick’s shoulder. “Well, wake her up,” he groused, tinges of annoyance seeping from his usually polished tone. “She’s… spewing her emotions all over the place. It’s reeking of sadness in there.”

◦◦◦

“It’s reeking in there; crack a window open, will you?”

Your finger harshly jabbed the switch, your gaze remained firmly fixed on the buildings passing by in a blur as the window lowered just a bit in an abrupt, choppy motion. From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your mother shooting you a brief, curious look. You hadn’t uttered a word ever since you two had left the family reunion. You knew it hadn’t been a good idea to agree to come.

The car then lapsed into another uncomfortable silence. You were both acutely aware of the thick, sweltering acrimony flooding off of you and yet still refused to address it, instead letting you bask in it with your mouth clamped shut, letting it gnaw your insides until your lungs felt charred, incapable of drawing oxygen any longer.

Why had you agreed to this? You were an adult; you didn’t need to expose yourself to this anymore.

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to breathe in deeply, only for your chest to constrict, becoming painfully hollow. Tears started brimming at the edges of your vision and you finally allowed your lips to part, letting a bated breath stumble out of them with urgency.

“I heard you earlier.”

◦◦◦

“I’m not waking her up,” Rick scowled in one curt sentence, already feeling a bit on edge and therefore not wanting to dwell on the matter.

Peacemaker’s eyebrows furrowed even deeper at Rick’s unwavering tone. He usually dealt easily with negotiation and compromises, he worked well under authority and was a suitable soldier because of it, but at the moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to be patient – maybe because of how thick with tension the atmosphere had become because of you.

“We can feel her,” he insisted again, spitting the words out in an irritated hiss.

◦◦◦

“Honey, I can feel you, tone it down,” your mother complained as she kept her eyes on the road. Either your words went completely over her head, or she refused to acknowledge them, knowing that with the amount of resentment she could feel rolling off of you in waves, there was no way a discussion could lead to a good outcome at the moment. She was already having a hard time not letting the irritation get to her in spite of the smoldering atmosphere.

“I heard you talking to aunt Matty,” you reiterated. “You said it was my fault.”

“What was?”

“Dad leaving.”

The uttered words dropped like thunder in the car, leaving the air charged with electricity.

“I didn’t say that,” she rebutted with a bit of an acerbic tone. The tension was starting to get to her, slowly but steadily eating away at her mind in spite of her resolve. She could feel the resentment seeping into her like a foreign body infiltrating her immune system, but paradoxically, the angrier she got, the less willing she was to fight it off. “Don’t twist my words, you know I hate when you do that.”

◦◦◦

“I didn’t say she wasn’t allowed to sleep,” Peacemaker clarified, starting to sound a bit agitated as the tensed atmosphere got more and more on his nerves. “I’m simply saying she shouldn’t until we are.”

“She’s not hurting anyone.”

◦◦◦

“You said I was hurting him.”

“I said he was often on the wrong end of your temper. Listen, it’s—”

“Back off!”

◦◦◦

“Back off,” Rick sternly admonished him as soon as Peacemaker made a step towards the front of the bus, protectively wrapping an arm around your sleeping form. “She needs to rest. She got shot acting as a distraction so your team could make a smooth entrance, remember?” he reminded the man scornfully.

Peacemaker’s face remained calm in spite of the irritation coloring his eyes. His gaze briefly flickered from you to Flag, hesitating.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

◦◦◦

“You know how you made him feel,” your mother uttered, efficiently putting an end to the exchange.

You remembered the times during which you were moody, when you came back home after having spent the entire day feeling everyone’s emotions around you, when your father did as much as try to talk to you about it, thus instantly setting you off. He was always the spark that ignited you. Whether he was inquiring about your day, or commenting on your behavior, or even just standing a bit too close to you… He’d end up angry, hurt, aggressive – whatever you were feeling at the moment, he’d always end up feeling it too.

Your mother was just wise enough to stay away.

But you also remembered the shouts in the kitchen, the jabs, the constant bickering between them. You remembered listening to it from the stairs and then being blamed for their bad tempers. You’d be blamed for the anger, the aggressiveness, the slaps that so often echoed through the house.

She was wise enough to stay away, and yet be close enough when she’d need an excuse.

“It wasn’t just me,” you whispered through gritted teeth.

“I never said it was.”

“It was you,” you spat out as you whipped your head towards her. “You made him miserable.”

Your eyes were completely focused on her face, her pursed lips and closed-off features, and never once did you notice the way her foot slowly started pressing further onto the accelerator.

◦◦◦

You woke up with a start and instantly casted a frantic gaze around you, expecting the usual blaring horns and shouts that followed this exchange. You were surprised to find yourself in a safe environment, all wrapped up in an unexpected warm, comforting atmosphere. Usually, the second you woke up, your instincts picked up on the foul aura of anguish you had unconsciously secreted into the air, and yet, here, you could feel nothing but utter peacefulness.

One of your eyebrows formed an elegant arch as you lowered your gaze to glimpse at the warm weight wrapped around you, only for your eyes to land on a familiar calloused hand hanging from your shoulder and almost grazing your cheek. You felt a faint smile tenderly pulling at the corners of your lips before even turning your head to confirm the identity of the owner of the arm wrapped around your shoulders, and when you turned your head to direct your gaze towards Flag’s sleeping face, you simply found yourself incapable to fight it off anymore.

Then, with a fond smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you snugly nestled you head back into his side and shut your eyes, this time knowing for a fact that you wouldn’t risk infuse the atmosphere with anything else than a blissful quietude.

◦◦◦

It was chaos. Utter chaos.

Your car was long abandoned a few feet away from you, fuming after having hit another vehicle in the middle of an intersection. The driver who had started fighting with you was now in a fully blown-out fist fight with another man who had merely tried to step in for you, and the more people got out of their cars to understand what was going on, the more people got trapped under your influence and started fighting, some going as far as purposefully ramming their vehicle into another’s.

Your voice was hoarse from shouting at the driver who had first attacked you and you were now trembling with anger as you watched an entire riot unfold before your very eyes, unconsciously fueling it with intense waves of rage that'd hit any innocent that'd happen to walk a bit to close to the scene.

Someone gripped your shoulder and you tried to jerk away from the touch, whirling your head towards the person with your teeth bared, ready to attack whoever was trying to get your attention.

“Honey, focus on me, alright? Focus on me.”

The voice was rough, the tone frenzied, and yet when the hands grasped your shoulders, it was with an unexpected gentleness. The fingers were quivering with restraint, barely managing not to dig into your skin in an attempt to snap you out of it.

This staggering tenderness startled you so much that it managed to take you out of your trance for a fleeting moment, allowing reason to take over as you fought back the instinctive urge to shove the hands away. With frantic, brimming eyes, you diverted your gaze towards your mother, desperate for a comforting point of focus to latch onto like a lifeline.

A sob threatened to crawl up your throat as soon as you met her eyes. There, in the midst of all the hardly concealed anger – a glint of affection, a vacillating spike of tenderness battling to emerge from under all that vibrating rage your mind was forcefully pushing into her. With a choked-up breath of relief, you instinctively stepped forward, latching onto that abiding twinkle of kindness in spite of all that surrounding violence like a lifeline.

Then, when there was an anticipated screeching of tires coming from your side, a glimpse of grey metal flashing out of the corner of your eye, and an oh-so-familiar harrowing feeling of dread seizing your insides, you kept your eyes unwaveringly locked into your mother’s, resolutely shutting out everything else around you. You bored your gaze into hers and let your mind soak in her warmth.

The car never came, the shouts quietened down, your surroundings slowed down until coming to a complete halt, time stalled and your dream mercifully stepped away from your memories to spare you.

You stood there for ages lost into your mother’s loving gaze, until – having strayed too far from reality – your subconscious lost all senses of what was and wasn’t at the time and let the scene morph into whatever your mind desired. Then, when the voice spoke up again, it wasn’t your mother standing before you anymore,  but a person you now trusted more than you ever thought you would.

“Don’t be scared of me.”

 -----

“We need to help these people.”

The words went completely over your head as you despairingly gaped at the glass in front of you, feeling cold to your bones.

You had gotten a bad feeling as soon as the elevator doors had cracked open.

There hadn’t even been time to make a step forward before you had gotten hit by the foul, repugnant thickness sullying the air with a strength that almost had you rearing your head back a bit. For a dizzying second, the vile and nauseating reek had left you standing there, blearily blinking as your senses had desperately struggled to accommodate to the repellent atmosphere. Yet, in spite of the tears brimming at the corners of your eyes just from the sheer despondency emanating from the place, you had been far from imagining the atrocity, the barbarism of the experiments that were taking place down here.

Despite your reluctance, you had been forced to follow the others as they had stalked out of the elevator, engaging into the dark and humid place with feeble, hesitant steps. As you had all crossed the small entrance leading to the laboratory, you had needed to fight your instincts that they had urgently pleaded you to simply whirl around and run back into the elevator.

Every breath you had taken weighed heavily on your tongue, the pungency sticking to the walls of your throat and poisoning your lungs. Every other second you had spent down there had simply felt like another year taken off your life, the wretched atmosphere slowly eating away at your brain like acid.

In spite of all of that, it had taken some time for the horror to truly dawn on you.

The despair had crept into your heart with every step you had made into the cellar, and then, when you had gotten to the center of it, you had felt for the very first time of your life an intense claustrophobia swarming your heart. Surrounded by a sea of decaying bodies all bound together by the same searing, devastating agony, the hostile basement had quickly gone from a gruesome laboratory to a deadly trap slowly closing in on you.

With nothing but wandering bodies all around you, you felt at the bottom of a pit of wretchedness, your head swelling with an intense, overwhelming pain. It was as though you were entrapped in the center of a microwave which was channeling thousands of screams directly towards your brain instead of radiations, however one of them was significantly stronger than the others and seemed to come from the wide glass wall right in front of you.

“Impossible, dear. They’re corpses below those stars.”

In spite of the searing agony flaring through your chest, your heartbeat seemed to slow down and settle onto a numbing, soporific pace as you unconsciously started stepping towards the wide glass, as though bewitched by the heart-wrenching wail you felt coming from whatever was hiding in that liquid.

With trembling, tentative fingers, you lifted your hand and slowly pressed your palm against the freezing glass, yearning to soothe the poor sufferer from their wrenching agony. The pain only seemed to intensify at the touch, the feeling of desolation gripping your insides as your ears started ringing, completely isolating you from the others. There was nothing else in that room but you and a desolated martyr screaming with thousand of voices right into your mind.

You watched with mournful, brimming eyes as the dark figure behind the glass started stirring until a single, colossal eye revealed itself in front of you, appearing emotionless to any common spectator and yet emitting an amount of woe that would’ve had you on your knees had you not gotten so used to sensing people’s emotions.

“Outburst?”

Rick’s voice rose up right behind you but still didn’t startle you, your eyes riveted onto the creature before you with rapt focus.

“It’s in pain,” you croaked out, the faint words scraping your dry throat like some sandpaper grating your vocal cords. “It’s in so much pain.” You shifted your fingers a bit, as if trying to press your hand closer to the glass, get closer to that strange creature, completely blind to the danger it represented. The tentacles, bumps and single eye did not matter – all you could see was the utter suffering it was in.

“Well,” the Thinker unabashedly butted in, “if I’m not mistaken regarding the purpose of your self-righteous egomaniacal mission – not for much longer.”

His words dawned on you with a dry clarity and had you shifting away from the glass in one brisk motion to whirl your head towards Rick. “We can’t kill it,” you asserted with an adamant, steadfast tone that did not match the slight waver in your voice.

“We have orders.”

Rick’s steadfast voice was way more convincing than yours, and what would’ve usually been a mere reminder of his status as colonel felt like a frustrating hindrance that only heightened the desperation swarming your heart and made you let go of the glass to tighten your fists as you turned around to fully face him.

“No, we can’t, we have to help it, it’s—”

“It’s dangerous,” Rick cut you off, his distrust-colored eyes briefly flickering towards the glass wall.

“It’s suffering!”

Your distressed screech echoed through the cellar, your plea painfully reverberating on the walls and splattering the frantic desperation dripping from your tone all around the basement.

For a fleeting moment, Flag remained speechless, as if hit with full force by the intensity of your despair. During that fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the hesitation flashing in his eyes, the way he seemed to ponder over the situation for even just a second, wondering what to do and which way to choose. Then, his gaze flickered to the side, briefly meeting Peacemaker’s, and you were able to pinpoint the exact moment he put his guards up again, welding back on his old mask of professionalism to tightly shut out any emotion you could try to induce in him.

There was a subtle shift in his expression, so subtle you might not even have noticed had you not been so desperately seeking any trace of support on his features. Instead of showing the understanding you were so badly hoping for, the traits of his face hardened, the glint in his eyes dimmed, and then you weren’t standing before Rick anymore, you were facing the colonel, towering over you with his back straight and his orders engraved in his mind.

You were acutely aware of the fact that the mission outweighed you; you had just hoped Rick would hold enough respect towards you to give your words the slightest bit of consideration. Apparently, this respect only allowed you one minute of his time before he completely shut you out.

With a sharp, regretful sigh, he took a step towards you and grabbed your arm with a gentle reluctance that contrasted with the harshness of his tone as he said that you needed to go with the other team.

You tried to protest but his strides were long and hasty, and before you even knew it, he was punching the first-floor button of the elevator as you stood inside of it, stunned.

Just as the doors started closing before you, you feebly parted your lips to utter one last plead; your pained, wavering voice coming out laced with betrayal. “You said I could trust you.”

When he had seemed ready to turn away as soon as the doors started closing between you, Rick’s attention seemed to be piqued by your words as he shifted his gaze back onto you, lingering in front of the elevator for just a second more.

The distress coloring your eyes melted into a sullen resignation as soon as your gaze bored into his, your chest constricting with dejection. There, under the thick coat of seriousness, in the midst of all the restrained belligerence this place inspired him, no glint of affection was to be found, no spike of tenderness desperately trying to emerge from the vibrating anger – nothing but cold, glaring callousness.

Not Rick.

Colonel.

-----

“Where’s Flag?”

Bloodsport turned his gaze towards you, and you instantly recognized the apologetic look in his eyes.

As he grimly shook his head, you finally experienced it firsthand – the agony of a thousand people.

-----

“Apparently Waller sent something to his hospital room. People are joking and saying she sent flowers, but if you want my opinion the old hag probably sent him a reminder that his contract doesn’t cover paid sick leaves.”

The voice, just like the steps accompanying it, echoed through the corridor and kept getting closer to your cell, undoubtedly coming from yet another guard who’d attempt to get a word or a reaction out of you – anything that’d stop them from having to book in an appointment with the jail therapist.

You had seen many of them pass by while you had spent days in a temporary cell during your recovery but hadn’t thought they’d keep on sending them after having transferred back in your old cell this morning.

The landscape change didn’t make any difference for you, as you simply kept on staring at the wall for hours on end with the most irksome gloomy look clouding your features.

You couldn’t think about anything else than Rick.

You didn’t think you had even truly processed it yet. It had happened too fast.

Within the span of a few days, the colonel had somehow gained your trust, slowly leading you to warm up to him by showing you an affection you hadn’t experienced in years. It felt like he had turned your world upside down, made everything brighter with the prospect of saving lives alongside a superior who truly valued you, and then you had made the mistake of letting him out of your sight, forced to walk away from that dreadful laboratory for just a few minutes, and he had died there, the one person on this earth who you could genuinely trust now buried under the rumbles in that bottomless pit of agony.

You had mulled over it what felt like a thousand times already and you just could not figure out how to simply go on with your life. Not when your one chance at a brighter future had been squandered so violently as soon as you had turned your back to it.

Somehow, it felt like your fault.

You had been careless, unfocused. You had forcefully dragged Rick’s attention away from the mission at hand only because you were too weak to handle the downsides of your ability, your eyes pathetically overflowing with tears of empathy as the rest of your team simply tried to achieve the mission. You had distracted Rick as that one had been forced to take you to the elevator like a child, had unconsciously helped Peacemaker steal a secret file and forced Cleo to try and stop him on her own before Flag could come to her aid.

The file had been retrieved, but only after Bloodsport had stopped Peacemaker from coldly eliminating Cleo. Only after Rick’s body had already been left laying soundly in the laboratory.

They had fought with all their might for that file, for those values you had accused Flag of lacking merely days ago, and you hadn’t even been there.

It had been crushing to find out that the trust you held towards him had been misplaced, but it was nothing in comparison to discovering he shouldn’t have trusted you either.

You forcefully swallowed back the lump in your throat when you heard the steps finally come to a halt right by your cell and had a hard time concealing the startled look on your face when a very familiar voice rose up.

“Well well well, from what I’ve heard little princess doesn’t want to eat anymore?”

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end at the falsely dulcet tone dripping with a syrupy looking but dangerously abrasive poison. You had to keep yourself from gritting your teeth as your gaze caught up on Griggs’ silhouette standing before your cell from the corner of your eye.

“You’re not even gonna make an effort for me?” he teased you as his lips spread into a sneering smile that made him look more moronic than sadistic due to the absolute lack of sagacity behind his eyes.

You kept your mouth tightly shut and your eyes riveted to the wall across from you, trying to muster the blankest expression you could not to let him affect you but feeling a peeved expression weighing down on your features nonetheless.

“Aww, guys it looks like we’re gonna have to use the feeding tubes,” Griggs ironically groaned, turning towards his colleagues with a facetious glint in his eyes. One of them instantly stepped up to open the door to your cell, not even needing to think twice about the threat just emitted. “You know how much I hate doing that,” he then kept on jeering, much to the amusement of the other guards.

You waited with anticipation as he stepped into the cell, feeling your entire body buzzing with an overpowering apprehension, not having a clue of what you could do but knowing for a fact that with all the adrenaline slowly being spread into your system, there was no way you’d let Griggs go back to his old mistreatment.

His filthy fingers barely grazed your skin, and, as though electrified, you jumped to your feet, putting some distance between you and him. You kept your eyes determinedly fixated in front of you but could see from the corner of your eye how stunned he was by your abrupt reaction. He had gotten to the unresponsive side of you that had emerged after only a few months here, the poor figure staying down on the ground and no longer batting an eyelash at his constant abuse. His face remained dazed for a fleeting moment before the ghost of a smirk reappeared on his features.

After all, he had broken you once, it’d be no bother to do it a second time.

“What, you go on one mission with Task Force X and then you don’t like me anymore?”

He reached out a hand again, much more aggressively this time, and you jolted away, instinctively bringing a hand up without even knowing if you were willing to take the risk of hitting him.

“Step away from her, Griggs.”

The stone cold words loudly rang through the cell and heavily fell between you both, instantly followed by a deafening silence as Griggs’ hand hovered in the air for a fleeting moment, just inches away from the skin of your arm.

Then, for a dizzying, fleeting moment, it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the cell.

Chill shivers of relief racked your spine before your brain even had time to process the voice, and then, when the familiarity of it finally sank in, you felt as though some freezing water had been dumped over you, leaving you soaked and shivering in the middle of your cell – only this time Griggs wasn't the cause of it.

You whirled your head towards the entrance of your cell with a vertiginous speed and had to bite back a choked-up noise from stumbling out of your lips when your gaze landed upon the owner of the voice glowering at Griggs with a murderous look in his eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be back yet,” Griggs pointed out sheepishly, letting his arm limply drop to his side now that his focus had been completely taken off of you.

“I was feeling better,” Rick informed him with a tight-lipped smile which then briskly dropped from his features. “Now stand down,” he repeated himself, his voice steadfast and as neutral as he could muster it. “I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you. I’ve seen what you did to her, and I’d love to show you what it feels like to be on the wrong side of the blade.”

The threat made the cell go utterly silent and for just a second, the sweetest second ever, all traces of amusement vanished from Griggs’ suddenly pale face. He looked started, nervous, oh so pathetic, and then when he finally regained his composure enough to quickly muster up the most serious look he could to paint on his pallid features, he had already lost all respect from every occupant of the room.

“You’d risk your job for a bitch who told you to eat shit five minutes into your mission?”

There was an imperceptible twitch on Rick’s features at the reminder. He had to briskly fight off a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, but you could still discern the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes and had to swallow back a choked-up laugh – your heart swarming with a bunch of overwhelming emotions you couldn’t even identify at the moment.

His eyes briefly flickered to you. “Apparently,” he conceded with the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, before he cast his gaze back on Griggs and recovered a cold, severe expression. “And, trust me, given how liked you are around here, I don’t think I’d risk more than a paid leave even if I attempted to murder you.”

Yet another sullen silence fell over the cell like a heavy fog, and this time, Griggs made the wise decision of not shattering it, containing his anger within a single huff before stalking out of the cell with heavy steps that made him akin to a stomping child. His colleagues briefly glanced at Rick, not quite knowing what to do, before meeting his eyes and promptly deciding to follow Griggs’ decision.

“You’re alive,” you breathlessly uttered as soon as you were both left alone.

“A bit roughed up, but yes, alive,” he winced back, turning his gaze towards you.

You knew he couldn’t feel the blissful exultation swarming your heart now that your ability was smothered by the collar secured around your neck, but you hoped he could see it in your eyes and in the way you just couldn’t seem to blink those relieved tears away.

Rick took a few steps towards you and let out a bated breath, as if he was finally allowed to exhale, as if he hadn’t been able to feel comfortable until standing near you again – and you then knew for a fact that if he couldn’t see the exultation in your heart, he at least felt it as well.

Without another word, he then tentatively brought a hand up before letting it hover uncertainly in the air. He seemed hesitant as if he wasn’t sure how to act anymore now that his mask of professionalism was gone, and you couldn’t help but let out a short chuckle. This was enough for a single droplet to finally fall from your brimming eyes, and the way Rick’s gaze seemed to soften even more at the sight of it almost led you to shedding a few more.

With utter cautiousness, he brought his hand to your face to brush the stray tear away and then left it there, his warm palm cradling your cheek.

“Looks like I’ve won again,” he said in a breath, the words merely stumbling out of his lips as if he were afraid to break that frail, tender moment of vulnerability between the two of you. His thumb gently stroked your cheek again and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your gaze never once leaving his. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

You had once said that the only way for Rick to ever get close to you was for you to give out your last breath, and yet, ever since that very vow you had felt yourself ever-so-slowly opening up to him, as though there was something in the air and it was killing you softly.

Now that the sweet, sweet poison had filled up your lungs – all wrapped up in his arms and boring your gaze into his with a wide-eyed fascination – you chose to completely let go of that vow, braving the risk to perish and merely uttering back two candid, gentle words.

“Pretty please.”

Previous

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#dc #tss #the suicide squad #rick flag x reader #rick flag headcanon #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #joel kinnaman #suicide squad #rick flag one-shot #rick flag x y/n #rick flag x you #colonel rick flag

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COSMIC - S2:E7; Chapter Seven, The Lost Sister - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

In their search for answers, psychic visions draw Eleven and Y/n to a band of violent outcasts and an angry girl with a shadowy past.

⚠️ WARNINGS: canon use of a derogatory term referring to someone who lives with psychosis spectrum syndrome, or schizophrenia (used exactly twice, back to back)

📝A.N: I thank you endlessly for your patience, my dears. There's been and will be more rewriting (not storywise, really, just some polishing) for the lost sister chapters. Also, while I'm here, stranger danger is real, kids. Practice safety everywhere you can. Please be safe 🙏

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Hugging my jacket tighter around my chest does little to stop the chattering in my teeth thanks to the cold that has already sunk into my bones. Despite all that has happened, I count ourselves lucky the seats El and I picked ended up near the bus's heater. Though at least the lingering chill from outside is keeping me awake and alert.

Trying again to rub the very last of sleep from my eyes, I try even harder to make sense of the sudden change in my surroundings.

I remember drifting off on the futon at Becky's, the next thing I know El is shaking me awake and pulling me down the stairs. All I had time to grab was my jacket, counting myself very lucky I managed to slip on my shoes before we were out the door.

Another shiver hits me like a brick when a bit of cold sneaks down the neck of my jacket. I inwardly groan. I didn't even get to change out of my pajamas.

I tried asking El what was going on and where the hell we were going─not to mention so late at night─but nothing came of it. It was difficult not to ask again, but the look I caught in her eye as we fled the front porch silenced me, if only momentarily. I tried again, when we were halfway down the road.

That time she spoke. And with a breathless voice, a vice-like grip on my hand, and furiously banishing a single tear she thought I hadn't seen. "It's not safe."

So here we find ourselves... Squished into two little purple patterned seats on the first bus we could find. I'm just happy it's not another truck.

I feel a pair of eyes on me and I look cautiously to my side, already knowing what to expect. Several other passengers watch us discreetly─some not so much. A young couple across the isle and two rows back are whispering as they eye us, either heavily concerned or far too judgemental. I'm tired and can't bring myself to care enough to figure it out.

Sadly, however, my self anxieties are still in tact under these stares. I tug my jacket tighter around my torso, my arms staying folded across my stomach. I turn to look at El and I can make out her disheartened reflection watching droplets of rain trickle down the fogged window. I rest my head tiredly on the back of my seat and attempt to break the silence.

"El?" My voice comes out as strangled, but I don't know why.

Her head rolls across the seat to face me and I'm reminded she's just as upset about this sudden uprooting as I am. Likely, of course, even more so. Her brown eyes, normally sparkling, are dulled and sad. Her eyelids sag a little, but she's fighting it well. More than anything, I sense a great deal of it is emotional exhaustion.

A million questions run through my head but I only find myself asking one. "Are you okay?"

She sniffles but gives me no immediate answer. That's when I finally note the small trace of a copper red smear, barely visible at the base of her nose that she had otherwise hastily wiped clean. Blood.

One more look in her eyes and I know; El is debating on whether or not she should lie. Finally, she speaks, and somehow I know she has told me the truth. "No."

I wince at the sound of her broken voice, splintered and forced. I extend my hand, as she did this afternoon. I'm so happy when she takes it. I gave her palm a reassuring squeeze and I look carefully in her eyes.

"El, you know you can tell me anything, right?" I ask, not even completely certain she has something to tell. But I still need her to know this.

Her eyes fall to our hands, and although she tries to hide it, I notice the subtle flutter of her eyes working to blink back tears. Her free and restless hand─which had been fiddling with her clutched bag straps on and off all day─tightened considerably. She must be spending too much time with me, a part of me thought dismissively.

"She called us in." Her grip flinches tighter when she whispers this. "I'm sorry."

Called us in? I try to make sense of this for a moment. I wonder if I heard her correctly, she had spoken so softly.

"Wait, what do you mean?" I ask gently. "Why are you sorry?"

"I heard her," she choked back. Panic is crawling into her voice and her other hand leaves the straps of her bag in favor of holding onto my forearm. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she thought I would suddenly dissappear. "She called for the policeman. Told them about me. And... she gave them your name. I'm sorry Y/n."

"My name?" I gulped, but my throat felt suddenly dry. "So, the police are gonna--? They're gonna know that I'm...?"

She nodded, remorseful eyes brimming with tears. Her face twists up in a sour pout she quickly banishes. But it was clear. She was panicking, for both our sakes.

Instinctively, I gave her hand another reassuring squeeze and managed, at most, a half-assed smile. Maybe it's for her sake, or maybe it's for mine.

"It's okay, it's not entirely your fault El," I say instinctively. I gulp again despite my dry mouth, certain she notices, but there's little room to care. My mind is buzzing, sleep now a far off worry. "Yeah, okay. I'm not going to lie to you, that's... That's not good. But I also knew what I was risking when I went with you."

My words feel like they're coming in slower and slower as I process everything in real time. El's patience with me is genuine, at least, and I attempt to mirror that as I sort hastily through my thoughts.

"The truth is, things really haven't been going super well at home. Everyone's fighting─more than usual, I mean,"

El cracks a tiny somber smile at that, and I feel one spread across my face as well. But it hardly lasts for either of us.

"Like I said before, Mike hasn't been himself since you left. And now Will is acting up. In fact, he's... El, he's completely different. He's sick, he's really sick. And so angry.

"The party is falling apart, and I've felt more alone these past few weeks than I have in a really long time. And on top of it all," my voice lowers further. "I'm still finding stuff I didn't know I could do. I've been having trouble with... well, you know."

El looks to me in surprise, her eyebrows raised. Safe to say she understands what I'm getting at.

I nod. "The point is, you showing up has been just what I needed. And yes, it's scary, but thanks to you I found out how I got here─where I came from... That's really good. I have you to thank for that."

It takes her a moment to consider my words, but El eventually gives me a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes. A mixture of remorse and fear is still etched into her tear-stained face as she needlessly pulls her bag further into her lap, her hand leaving my forearm again to do so. I almost think more of it before her face lights up in grateful remembrance.

El wiggles closer to me in her seat before dipping her head in. "I found her. The girl."

I perked up a bit, looking back at my friend with a daring crumb of hope.

"Really? That's great! So did you get anything useful? Maybe the girl's name or where we're going?"

The hope I saw in El's face disappeared just as soon, and she shakes her head. But her face scrunches up thoughtfully as if she was trying to remember something she might have missed.

"A city." She looks at me quizzically, repeating a word she must have heard only in passing. "Shuh-cago?"

My eyes widened. "Chicago?" El nodded. "We're going to Chicago?"

El shrugged her shoulders. This was the best she could give. "Shuh-cago."

Okay. Chicago. Deep breath in. I could do that. And out. Maybe. Maybe this was incredibly stupid. In. Then again, so was chasing down an interdimensional gate while on the run from top secret government thugs. And I had done that... Barely.

"Um, okay..." I sigh heavily, only now realizing I have been holding my breath. My eyes fall to my lap, noting my rapidly bouncing leg. "Well, are you sure? Is that what you heard, or maybe saw somewhere?"

El nodded. Another dry gulp.

"So you really think she'll help, huh?" I ask.

She gives me a weak, but reassuring smile and softly squeezes my hand. "Yes."

I look to her, grateful, but I'm unsure how genuine I appear. Yet another silence follows quickly after.

The familiar feeling bubbles up in my stomach again, though it is much more intense. Sure I had anxieties about leaving with El, but this overpowered that. At least I had the small chance of not getting caught─that I'd be back the next night and it could all be explained away by being at the Byers house. But this is quickly spiraling. This had already spiraled, and I am beginning to feel sick to my stomach with nerves. The moment the Chief got Becky Ives' message then it was only a matter of time before my mom was notified, and─oh no...

Unsurprisingly, she's going to the ends of the earth just to find Mews. I can't imagine the stress she'll inevitably be under when she finds out that some woman across town filed a report about me. And now I'm on a bus to Illinois.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. The last thing I need is spirlaing my way into another accident. I have a feeling I could do a lot more damage on a crowded bus than I did boiling some cereal.

I glance at El for only a moment. Her attention is back outside, peering through the fog and the reflections on the glass. She's (presumably) oblivious to the noise in my head. A part of me─the logical part of me─is angry with myself for being so forgiving. For not communicating my disappointment well enough. Dustin always said I had a problem with that. And yet, even though I meant what I had said to El about finding out where I came from...

Maybe I did it cause I felt bad for El. She was sorry, and she was in trouble.

But I'm in trouble now, too, I remind myself.

Part of me is hoping Chicago is a dead end, and while I feel awful for feeling that way, I do. I find myself longing to be with Will again. The old Will. He always had a knack for knowing when I wasn't okay.

He always makes me feel validated when I'm upset. He listens, and he'd do anything to get me to smile. The way I want to do for him.

It hurts thinking about that now.

Whether I like it or not, I've found myself on a one way trip to the unknown, straying further and further from the safety of home.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

I don't realize I have drifted off until I feel a tap on my shoulder. My head feels much heavier and I find myself squinting against the interior lights (which now seem much brighter than before) to find El gesturing towards the isle. Through bleary eyes I make out a small line of people already shuffling down the isle ahead of us. Quickly─but rather drowsily─I rise from my seat and join them, making sure El is close behind.

We had spilled out onto the busy streets among the rest but found ourselves stalled at the edge of the sidewalk. I'm unsure about El, but the sight before me succeeds in banishing my exhaustion instantly. Between the return of the frigid breeze, the towering architecture, and the swarm of strangers every which way, I'm questioning if I'll ever sleep again.

I'm captivated as I look around in an odd mix of awe and fear. Living in a small town like Hawkins for so long makes places like Chicago feel like another planet, so it would seem.

It doesn't feel as though we're standing in the heart of the city, more so the center of a giant hive─with bees buzzing in and out with no motivation other than work. No leisure, just urgency. The entire world is whirring around us─every which way─and I suddenly have this feeling if any one person were to drop at any moment this little world would keep on moving without a second thought. It's fascinating and completely terrifying.

One curious look at El told me I wasn't alone. Neither of us had fully comprehended what we were in for until this moment. But I suppose that in itself was even slightly reassuring─that neither of us were alone.

Standing here lost in a sea of strange people, that note hits a bit harder this time as the initial shock wears off. Nobody here seems to know anyone and they all seem angry.

She remains silent at my side but El's wisdom from earlier still bring comfort to me.

"Y/n, we can defend ourselves, remember?"

She did have a point, we do have certain advantages. But then again, came that convincing little voice in my head, if we were put in a situation where we were forced to use them, then all the closer we going were to being caught.

I look to El to try and gauge her reaction and I find she's still very much lost in the towering city skyline─a genuine smile on her face. For a moment I wish I can enjoy it, but there are simply too many reminders where we are, and why I can't.

Eagerly, she starts walking down the streets and I follow her. I'm thankful I was able to retrieve my shoes and jacket, but I still can't seem to drag my thoughts away from the fact that my teeth are back to chattering. The words I spoke earlier today pop into my mind only to mock me, "I guess I kept myself warm,". Just another reason to learn how to--

A strong force strikes my shoulder hard enough to put a stumble in my steps, and instantly my train of thought is gone. I whirl around to see a man throwing me a pointed sneer over his large, squared shoulders. "Watch yourself, would ya'?," Gawking back, I spy the man making steady strides down the sidewalk with no remorse.

Huffing, I burrow my fists deeper in my jacket pockets and lie to myself that it's simply to keep my hands warm. It's bullshit, considering I don't need help in that department, but it keeps us going forward I guess.

Well, me, anyway.

I don't get in two steps before finally noticing El was at a standstill. I stop again, this time confused, to see my friend rooted to the middle of the city sidewalk. Steam from nearby grates billowed all around her, ruffling her flannel collar. She fixes a hard glare on the man behind us.

"Mouth-breather," She says, her voice low. Just then, her gaze drops and my eyes begin to widen.

I spot the man in the crowd just in time to see him stumble forward onto the concrete. Angrily, he sits up, looking around frantically and glaring at anyone who dared to titter. I felt a chuckle coming on myself when I barely make out the string of curses directed at his shoelaces as he hotly retied them.

El looked to me, hardly suppressing a smile and a roguish look in her eye. Before anyone could see, she wiped her nose clean of blood.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

If I thought I was cold before, I was dead wrong. We've been walking for about two hours, if I had to guess. The muscles in my feet are beginning to knot, and my sweatpants are clinging to my legs.

About half an hour ago, a truck drove through a puddle and I caught the tail end of the splash when we turned the corner. To pass the time, I've been trying to dry them subtly with my hands against my legs, but it didn't get me very far, even with El's advice. I finally gave it a rest after a while. I wasn't getting terribly far and I didn't want to risk draining myself if the walk was much longer.

By now I've grown used to the odd and wandering looks we've gathered. But the tension creeps back in when El leads us down an incredibly questionable alley. We are definitely in the riskier parts of the city though I try to hold my tongue and save questions until later. My instincts tell me I need to appear more confident than I am. El seems to hold up that exterior well enough, though even her confidence is waning slightly.

We find ourselves surrounded by many sluggish people, all of whom mill about around us. The alley and its inhabitants are lit mostly by fire pits in steel barrels. The stench is hard to ignore; everything wreaks of booze, cigarettes, and urine.

A frightening, cackling, man steps towards my face as we walk by and I flinch back. "They're dead. They're all dead!" He cries out.

His hyena-like laughter bounces off the cement walls and echoes in my ears. I can practically taste his awful breath and I duck my head down avoiding eye contact as I pull El along forward with me.

I can sense her eagerness to leave the alley in her vice-like grip that rivals my own. Neither of us dare let go. Without a word, we break into a matching jog and scurry on.

We don't stop until we reach what looks to be an abandoned underpass. The stench is mostly gone, but in its place something else unidentifiable. Beer cans litter the concrete and every wall is touched with graffiti.

Finally, we emerge from the darkened space to find an old and windowless warehouse. Like the underpass, there isn't a single wall or slab of concrete that isn't decorated with spray paint and neon color. This is where El stops us suddenly.

I glanced ahead of me at the building a second time, now taking in the little details. There is one tiny door ahead of us supplied with only one window─the glass dirtied and fogged, shows us nothing but flickering yellow light. And beckoning us over, curling whisps of steam pouring out of the shadows despite (what appeared to be) the windowless, pipeless, boring metal box of a building.

"Is... this it?" I ask.

"Yes." El answers. And for the first time since the alley, she releases my hand.

El sets off towards the building without another word. Almost like ripping of a band-aid; if she didn't do it now and all at once... Or maybe that's just my reasoning. I quickly follow behind, attempting to prepare myself for whatever we might find.

Upon first glance, it's not much different to the exterior; boxes, crates, barrels, and planks litter the interior and the spray paint almost smells fresh. The entrance we stand in is part of a small alcove, and it's clear the further you step inside the ceiling extends. But what catches my eye are the four people huddled around another makeshift firepit.

One girl, who sits perched on several cushions and lighting a cigarette begins to giggle teasingly. "You should do stand-up, Axe. There's a spot a few blocks away."

The group chuckles, and a tall lanky man with a large mohawk rolls his eyes with a smirk. Among them, a rather large and beefy man, who clearly seems to be the muscle, and another young woman in cuffed jeans, gloves and a dark green flannel jacket.

There is no time to worry what they might say or do when they realize we are here. El is already calling out to them. Logically, I knew we would be making ourselves known one way or another, yet my knees now feel as if they are threatening to lock at the sudden action.

"Hello?" El's voice echoed out.

The group stops and turns, their faces illuminated by the fire. The shadows now casted across their faces are eerie, like someone about to tell a ghost story.

A sickening smirk curls along the lanky one's face. My stomach drops two stories when he struts around the fire, now making his way towards us.

"Well, well... What do we have here?" He purrs, still with that no good smile.

The others follow in their friend's footsteps and rise to their feet, no doubt an act of intimidation. I look anxiously between El and the strangers, though I somehow manage to keep a still face.

These others are now inching towards us and I feel my heart rate pick up. The woman in the green jacket scoffs, looking us up and down. If I were to guess, she was trying to decide which of us looked stranger.

"What are those, overalls?" She asks finally, referring to El.

The other young woman─who had been stalking around us like we were something to play with─finally stops at me. I try to hide the tense in my shoulders but I suspect it's no use. Her gaze is somewhat bored as she looks me up and down, then jabs a bony finger in my shoulder. I roll it when she does, as if shaking off the feel of her touch.

"And get a load of this one," she squeaks, blowing smoke into my grimacing face. She lets out an awkward snort, clearly amused with my reactions and uneasy demeanor. "Y'could knock this one down with a feather,"

I cough, fanning away the miniature smog cloud lingering in my face. This gave the lanky one, Mohawk, a chuckle. The Smoker turns to me and fakes a pout.

"What's the matter, kiddies? Thought your little slumber party could use a fun little adventure in the big city, huh?"

More laughter from the others. Fighting the returning impulse to roll my eyes, I instead take another subtle deep breath.

The woman is already answering her own rhetorical question with another fake pout and flick of her cigarette ashes. "Well, you ain't gonna find it here, so go on back to the farm now."

"We're looking for my sister."

My eyes jump to El in surprise but they quickly return to the group, not particularly eager to give away the fact I had no idea what she was talking about. Sister? I do have to applaud El's quick thinking, though, I suppose.

"Aw..." Mohawk jeers. "Shirley Temple lost her sister. So sad."

"I saw her. Here." She reaches into her bag, likely for the photograph clipping from Becky's. But they all tense.

"Uh-uh," The Muscle said suddenly. "Hand out of your pocket. Slow."

El complies and Mohawk rips the news clipping from her hand. "Give me that shit."

For the first time in this encounter, this man looks apprehensive. Seeing the photo was enough to shock him into temporary silence. And apparently this in itself is enough to lure the flannel woman forward to investigate for herself. Now, like the man, she is snatching the photo up with shock.

"Is that Kali?"

"Kali?" El asks.

Mohawk steps forward, visibly on edge. Taking advantage of his height, he towers over El with an impressive glare. I say nothing, but I mirror his actions─taking a step further into El's side with a tiny glare of my own.

"How did you find us?" He questions. "Who else knows you're here?"

El backs up slightly and suddenly I was jumping to speak. "No one knows we're here." I say.

"And no one was speaking to you, either," My face sours and he returns to El. "Is this true, Shirley Temple? So, what then? Poof! You just show up like magic with that picture?"

"Stay calm." Flannel warns. "They're just kids, alright?"

He turns on her quickly. "Some kids that could get us all killed."

Like that, his anger is back on El and he pulls something from his pocket. My eyes fall to the object in his hand and my heart sinks into my stomach.

"If I have to ask again, Shirley, you'll start losing things." He carefully unfolds the pocket knife, making sure we catch the light bouncing off the blade before waving it in El's face. "Starting with those pretty little locks of yours. Yeah?"

He's in more danger than we are. He's in more danger than we are--

I still look desperately between the man and his companions─it'd be helpful to know where they stand with the threatening of children. Each of them seemed uncomfortable with his actions in varying degrees, but it was Flannel, again, who stepped forward.

"Come on, Axe. Put down the knife." She warns, her voice getting sharper.

The blade grows closer towards El's face and my heart rate breaks hummingbird records. The man is only getting angrier.

"How did you find us?"

"I saw her." El's voice is rushed and shaky, but not completely fearful. I know why, and it's the only reason I haven't (completely) fallen apart.

He advances further, still with that stupid knife and everyone's voices begin to drown in the deafening roar of blood pumping in my ears. He's beside me now as El keeps backing away and I can't bring myself to move out of his way. I'm not sure yet if it's out of bravery or fear.

"That's not an answer!" He roars.

"Axe!"

I throw aside my common sense and step fully in between them, planting myself directly in his path. "Hey-!"

He freezes, wide eyes flying to his hand. My eyes follow, fearful I've done something unintentionally. But there's nothing. Just a shaky hand with a tiny blade. Yet Mohawk staggers backward, his blade-wielding arm extended as far away from himself as possible.

"Je-Jesus!" He huffs in ragged, near incoherent sqeaks. "Jesus Christ!"

He chucks the knife on the concrete behind us, the blade nearly nicking my legs. He looks up and down his torso, his face draining of color before our eyes. He frantically swipes at himself, several fearful squeals jumping from him. El and I share a look over my shoulder, confused.

"Get off! Shit!"

He is running across the room now, hunched over and desperately swatting at his head, face, and arms. I have to step back to avoid his path as he maneuvers around me and his companions have to do the same.

"You're a terrible dancer, Axel."

Everyone, including myself, turns towards the source of the newest voice. On the stairs, leaning on the banister with a sly smirk is another young woman. Half of her head is shaved, the other half tinted a dark purple. Like the others, she was dressed in grunge, but oddly, they didn't seem shabby or cheap.

The guy named Axel relaxes, only for a moment, before it evolves into anger. He smacks his head angrily and gestures towards her as she comes down the steps.

"I told you, Kali, stay out of my head. " He spits.

"So we're threatening little kids now, are we?" She asks, striding towards us.

"They know about you." Axel defends.

The Smoker─the one who mocked me─steps forward with the photo El had procured.

"Farmgirl here had this."

The new girl, the one I can only assume to be the one we were searching for, grabs the photo. If I had to guess, she is attempting to hide her shock.

El steps away from behind me and cautiously approaches her. I'm not entirely thrilled, nor surprised, to see this girl, Kali, sizing El up and down. I don't miss the quick inspection she gives me, either.

"Where did you get this?" She asks El.

"Mama," El answers, taking the photograph back and placing it in her bag.

"Your mother gave this to you?"

"In her dream circle," El says.

I raise my brow, and as I suspect the others don't take to it, or her very easily.

"Dream circle," Axel scoffs, pacing the room. "I think she's a schizo or something."

I'm beginning to believe this man is determined to be the biggest jackass in the room.

"Says she's looking for her sister."

"Yeah. Like I said, schizo."

There's a bitter taste in my mouth and an itch crawling up my back. The idea of holding back all this anger is withering before my eyes─every word this asshole says is added coal to the fire.

My glare follows him across the room as he bends to retrieve his knife. But the blade is flying through the air and into El's waiting hand before he can touch it. This almost makes me smile.

Mumbles of surprise bounce around the group, but I simply watch with pride building in my chest as El confidently folds the knife closed and hands it to the girl.

"I saw you. In the rainbow room."

Something in the girl's eye changes drastically. She begins to stalk around El before she stops halfway to stand beside her.

"What is your name?"

"Jane."

I can't say I was expecting that, yet I wait. I concentrate my energy on keeping my jaw clenched. I've been fighting my chattering teeth ever since we stepped into this lions den and the muscles in my jaw have now grown weak and sore.

Kali grabs El's left wrist and pushes back her sleeve revealing her tattoo. In turn, El reaches for Kali's sleeve. It's pulled back to reveal a tiny cluster of ink to match El's. I almost don't notice─the sight of El allowing anyone to touch her tattoo had floored me.

That is, until I finally catch the three black digits etched into Kali's skin, and my stomach twists.

It's not actually...? My wringing hands find a new focus: the loud and blank skin of my left inner wrist.

I'm not sure why I'm surprised by this, not if we came here in search of someone like El. Someone who lived through the lab experiments with El. But the sight of the 008 tattoo hits me a little hard. Is it because it makes this all the more real? Or was it because of the longing in El's eyes as they cloud over in tears?

Her lips begin to tremble as their gazes meet. "Sister."

Kali nods, breathless. "Sister,"

The two collapse into each other's arms and somehow I feel even more out of place here. It's inspiring to see; two sides of the same coin finally meeting. What each of them must have gone through─now free, now with one another. This is huge for El.

So why aren't I happy? And why does this feel like such a slippery slope?

There's no time to wonder, the two are breaking apart. Kali takes El's hands in her own, giving them a strong squeeze. The two smile at one another and my eyes fall to my feet, suddenly hyperaware of my myself and how I stand. The ends of my sweatpants are still soaked and the water in my shoes sponged up against my feet are frigid. Yet somehow, the stare of the others──the stare of Kali's──is what freezes me over.

"Jane, who is this?" She asks.

"Y/n. My friend."

Against instinct, against all comforting thought, I force myself to face her. Maybe I'm mistaken or just too damn hopeful, but the curiosity behind her eyes almost seems a bit more relaxed. Now with El's approval.

Hands still partially hidden in my jacket pocket, I send a tiny wave with my fingers and manage my best imitation of a smile.

"Hi," I mumble, trembling. Damn my chattering teeth.

The weight of Kali's stare is intimidating. I might not know the specifics of what makes her unique like us, but I can tell already her abilities aren't what make her powerful. She exudes that all on her own.

Kali looks me up and down and I almost convince myself my life depends on this one impression. And maybe it does.

Tearing me from my thoughts, Kali cocks her head and asks. "Why are you in pajamas?" She actually sounds, almost, amused? It's disarming.

"Short version?" I want to wince at the nervous chuckle that comes out involuntarily. But I'm too damn cold. And hungry. "We kinda had to make a quick get away."

Kali looks at me for a moment with an unreadable expression, though something tells me she understands. Another moment of uncertainty, seconds too long, and my mind runs in panicky circles. What did I say? What did I not say? Did I accidentally just insult her, her mother, and her entire existence without realizing? The part of my brain in charge of logic dismissed that theory almost immediately but unfortunately stress and fear were the perfect fuel for doubt, as always.

Kali confirms this with a chuckle that brought time back out of slow motion. She then turns to another one of the groups members─the one who had taken caution with El and her photograph─the Muscle. He is a wide-set man with the long braid and a kindly aura.

"Funshine, take this one upstairs and help them find some warm clothes. I'd like to talk to Jane. Alone."

Her eyes fall on me, her amusement dimming away and back to speculation.

El doesn't appear to be as hesitant as I would have anticipated her to be. She's lost in the euphoria of reuniting with Kali. The idea of a sudden separation strikes fear in me─something far more powerful than the silly doubts flashing in my mind moments ago. This was a pit seeding in my stomach, ready to grow.

The larger man nods and steps forward. Surprised, my eyes flicker back to Kali and she smiles reassuringly.

"Don't worry, he's nothing but a big softie," she says with a simper, turning and leaving with El.

"El...?" Was she really just gonna leave? The two slow, and El pulls her attention away from Kali and over her shoulder to me.

"It's okay," she promises. "I'll be back," And then she was dissapearing up the stairs, Kali's arm slung over her shoulder.

...Somehow that made it worse.

The man I've been instructed to go with is smiling warmly when I turn to him. It's the first I'm put at even the slightest of ease since arriving.

"Don't you worry, we'll find something warm for you," he says, his voice deep and kind. He makes way for the stairs, pausing at the bottom with a hand on the metal rail. He throws me a brief nod over his shoulder. "We should get you by a fire, too, and quick. Dangerous for you to be walking out here like that─you'll catch your death,"

Against all odds, I feel a tiny tug at the corners of my mouth─a smile itching to spread. It doesn't quite, not with the dread sitting in my stomach like a chunk of stone or my friend walking off with a stranger.

But now, with little choice, I do the same.

My footsteps fall in sync with his almost instantly as we climb the stairs. Silence falls quick and heavy over the open space apart from our differentiating gait hiking the metal steps. I'm peering over my shoulder without much thought for consequence, my eyes meeting with the other three strangers─each of them watch me.

The way they eye me turns my stomach. The Mohawk──Axel, and the Smoker, in particular.

There was the Flannel woman─the only other person here who seemed to care El and I were children. She may be the other exception. For one, she doesn't seem interested enough, and for that I'm grateful. But mostly, I don't forget her attempts to cool down this Axel.

His glare on me sharpens, but to my surprise, I don't wither beneath it. I'm brave enough (or stupid enough) to glare back. He twirls his knife expertly in his hands as I turn away, eliciting an unpleasant cackle from Smoker. I don't need any further reassurance these are two I need to worry about.

But that's already being pushed to the back burner─Funshine and I reach the second floor and round a poorly lit corner and that's when I spot the two figures down the catwalk a ways. El and Kali. They're making their way for another, steeper pair of stairs. Smiling and laughing, already.

A sudden voice cuts through my storm of thoughts and suddenly I'm back on earth. "Right this way, friend,"

Funshine directs me to one of the makeshift bedrooms to our right and something in me weakens when we step inside. The concrete room is bathed in turquoise and peach shadows casted from the neon lights gathered inside. Where I expected all concrete walls to close me in, I see wide (albiet dirtied) windows overlooking the first floor. But the lure of it all is a split between the king size nest of pillows and blankets in the center and the fire pit in the corner.

The sight of it all is dangerously persuasive and so is the sudden wail of my aching bones and the shudder down my spine, louder than they ever were. I'm wavering already, but I'm alert enough to realize the longing in my eyes as they rake across the bed and fire is obvious.

Funshine gestures towards the fire in the corner and ushers me along. "Go ahead and warm up. I'll be right back with some proper clothes." He says before turning.

I nod absently, far too entranced and eagerly gravitating towards the warmth now before me.

He leaves from where we came and disappears around the corner. I stifle a smile when I feel the heat washing over my body. Muscles I didn't even realize I had are melting as they meet the warm glow of the flames.

I'm not sure how long I'm standing there, but it must be several minutes at the least. Enough time for Funshine to return with a bundle of clothes in his arms.

"Here you are," I trail behind him to the bed where he drops the small mountain on the edge of the sunken mattress. "I gathered a few things that I thought might fit you best. Theres plenty of stuff in here, so you'll have options. But I insist you consider dressing in layers. It'll only get worse out there," He sends me another nod and begins to head back for the door. "Alright then. You get warm, now,"

And that's all he says. He's already heading for the door. I have a sudden fear I won't get another chance to speak with him. Or let the swell of gratitude I felt be known. I couldn't hold my tongue any longer, nor did I want to.

"Hey," I call out, growing nervous. "Um..." I winced a bit at my trailing voice.

He slows at the door and turns around, giving me a curious look.

"Thank you," I mumble, mustering a smile as grateful as I felt. "For the clothes. And-- well, everything, I guess."

Another friendly smile stretches across his face and once again he nods.

"You're certainly welcome."

#you'll float queue #stranger things #cosmic #el hopper #becky ives #kali prasad #dottie stranger things #axel stranger things #mick stranger things #funshine stranger things #stranger things 2 #cosmic 2 #gn!cosmic #gn!reader #will byers x reader #will byers x gn!reader #will byers x gender neutral reader #x gn!reader #non binary reader #the lost sister