#not a mr and mrs harrington friendly post

[ghostlynimbus]

Billy and Steve start hanging out and Billy starts noticing that Steve doesn't know how to do a lot of basic stuff, and the stuff he does know how to do he does weird.

At first Billy dismisses these observations as being a product of Steve having grown up rich, like.. of course Steve doesn't know how to change the oil on his car, he can afford to take the thing in regularly and pay someone else to do it. But the more they spend time together the more Billy realizes that thats not quite right.

The Harrington's have a shiny fancy working dishwasher (Billy knows it works, he's seen Henderson use it). But Steve always washes dishes by hand.

And it's definitely not that Steve is just some weirdo who likes hand washing dishes, he clearly hates doing it, but he still never uses the dishwasher.

And going grocery shopping with Steve is an actual nightmare, Billy thought he hated shopping with Max (who somehow always convinces him to buy her shit she doesn't need), but Steve... Steve makes shopping with Max seem well worth the wasted money.

The way he meanders about the store, flitting back and forth between the aisles and constantly doubling back to get something else that was right next to something he grabbed twenty minutes ago is absolutely incomprehensible to Billy. A shopping trip that would take Billy twenty minutes, even with Max tagging along, takes Steve at least an hour.

Billy also pretty quickly learns that if anyone ever points out any of these oddities, Steve will react in one of two ways.

Either he'll try and brush it off and downplay the whole situation or he'll get extremely prickly and defensive about it.

Billy does not understand, but the puzzle of it all fascinates him.

It's not until one time when Steve's parents come back early from a business trip that it finally clicks.

Billy had been staying the night, eager for more time with Steve and time away from Neil. He was supposed to be long gone by the time Mr and Mrs Harrington got back, but apparently their plans had changed last minute.

Billy woke to an empty bed, and Steve's empty bedroom, and had made his way downstairs just in time to accidentally catch the tail end of Steve's father berating him for apparently doing the laundry incorrectly.

It was clear Steve's dad had already been talking for a while, and the part that Billy caught was too long by itself.

And in all that time and with all those words Mr Harrington had for his son it was clear that not one of them were any sort of instructions on how to correct the mistake, no hint of how to do it right next time.

When Steve finally emerged from his father's study, looking so resigned (at least until he noticed Billy then he looked embarrassed), it was clear to Billy that this was Mr Harringtons usual way of handling such matters.

And that was when Billy finally understood that the reason Steve didn't know how to do basic things, or did them in weird incomprehensible ways, was because no one had ever taught him. They'd just expected him to start doing these things and then gotten mad when he didn't manage to do them to unspecified standards.

Months later, when Billy and Steve have moved into their own shitty tiny little apartment downtown, Billy starts showing Steve how to do shit. It's hard, trying to toe the line between gentle instruction and patronizing, especially since they both have so little experience with gentle but eventually, despite the times it blows up in their faces and one of them stomps off somewhere to cool off, they get better at it.

And as it turns out, Steve can actually be pretty good at all sorts of stuff as long as someone bothers to teach him.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #ficlet #abuse cw #not a mr and mrs harrington friendly post #its like one am and i just wrote this on my phone without editing it sorry if its terrible #other characters are mentioned

[ghosttotheparty]

love me softly p3

@acitytokeepyoursecrets tags on this post she gets it god bless

@urmomification @legitcookie @deleataecount :)

Eddie doesn’t like that he’s into Steve Harrington, so he does what he does best: acts like a dick and annoys Steve into hating him even more than he already did.

But it’s doesn’t even seem to be working. Even when he stands on cafeteria tables and shouts about pompous rich kids and their shiny cars.

Steve just looks up at him, while the others sneer and throw insults and fries at him. He almost smiles a lot of the time, his expression light. Amused. He just watches, eating quietly while Eddie shouts and yells and cackles when Tommy H throws something at him and misses. (Steve covers his mouth. Eddie thinks he’s laughing too.)

When Eddie sits again, Gareth is almost glaring at him, his elbow on the table, his fingers to his forehead, like he’s watching a house fire. He tells Eddie it’s a bad idea. The others don’t know what they’re talking about but they don’t really care.

Eddie knows it’s a bad idea to taunt Steve and his friends. That he’s just painting a bright red target on his own back. But he can’t really help it.

Especially not when Steve starts responding, flipping Eddie the bird while Eddie’s up on a table, tilting his head adorably when Eddie comments that he looks like a Christian summer camp counsellor.

Tommy just comments that at least Steve can buy new clothes. Eddie just fires back that money can’t buy better taste, bitch. Steve snorts even though it’s a dig on him.

It goes on for a while. The teasing. The stares. The suppressed smiles and laughter.

But it actually starts on a Friday.

Eddie has detention. (Shocker.) The only reason he actually goes is because Mr Peterson isn’t an asshole. He’s friendly, even to Eddie.

Greets him as “Mr Munson,” looks at the pink detention slip before raising a single eyebrow at Eddie and tells him to sit with a soft shake of his head and a smile.

And Eddie turns to find Steve sitting in the back, watching him. Eddie’s grin falters and then widens, his head tilting as he raises his eyebrows, and Steve’s face turns red. He looks away. Eddie goes to sit with him, still grinning.

The room is quiet. There aren’t many others here, a few of them doodling on tables or sleeping. Peterson doesn’t care. (Another reason Eddie likes him.)

“What’d you do?” Eddie asks quietly, sitting too close to him.

Steve just looks down at his notebook. It’s closed, a pen laying on top of it. Eddie wants to flip through it.

“Nothing.”

“Steve Harrington is in detention,” Eddie says dryly. “You did something.”

“Nuh-uh.”

Eddie snorts. Steve glances at him. He’s smiling, and his cheeks are still flushed, and Eddie might die.

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Ste-e-e-eve, what’d you do?”

“Oh, we’re on a first name basis now?”

Eddie blinks. He’s only called him Harrington. Steve’s never called him anything.

“Yeah, I guess. Tell me what you did.”

“…Called Collins a jackass. In front of him.”

Eddie drops his head to the table.

“Incredible.”

“What did you do?”

“Forgot my homework.” He lifts his head. “Seven times.”

Steve snorts.

“Of course.”

They’re not allowed to talk during detention. It’s too quiet for them to even whisper with Peterson hearing, the room silent except the scratching of someone’s pencil and the occasional cough or sigh.

Eddie lowers his head to the table, ready to take a nap or zone out or something, but Steve opens the notebook. Eddie turns his head to look, his cheek pressing against the cold surface, and Steve doesn’t notice.

Eddie sits up to watch. Steve flips through the pages, and Eddie catches a glimpse of a drawing, so he reaches out and take the notebook wordlessly. Steve makes a small indignant ugh. Eddie shushes him.

Eddie flips through the pages slowly, looking at Steve’s handwriting. It’s pretty. Almost girly. Every page has random, half-understandable notes, without any kind of indicating header that might include the subject or date.

He thinks he’s getting closer to the drawing, because Steve reaches out to take the notebook again. Eddie swats his hand away, and Steve drops his head to the table with soft groan.

Eddie grins.

He finds the drawing. It’s a messy pencil sketch, scratchy snd scribbled and smudged and shitty, but easily recognisable.

His grins falters, and he blinks, his eyes tracing the lines of his own curls, the angle of his own nose, the curve of his eyelashes.

He turns to look at Steve, who’s now hiding his face in his shirt, looking away from Eddie.

Eddie lays back on the table, his chin propped on his arms as he gazes at the drawing again.

Steve lets him keep the notebook until the end of detention.

part four

read the whole thing ao3

#is this just gonna be a thing now #i rly like ppls tags yall are entertaining #love you guys <3 #i already have so many idea for this series (???) #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #ficlet #just realised i’m so used to ao3 i still code italics instead of just italicising them lmso #oopsies ✨ #steddie ficlet #1k #love me softly

[staygoldwriting]

🏊 Coach Harrington

Steve Harrington x single!mom!reader

Warnings: single mom, pregnancy, fluff

Word count: ~2.4k

A/N: I wrote this after I saw a post from @mcueveryday asking about Steve x single mom reader fics! I really love writing for Steve, and I loved writing this story! I hope you all enjoy, and as always, please show love and support ❤️✨

“Okay, five seconds more! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! And rest!”

Steve smiled proudly at his students. He originally wanted to be a swim coach for only one summer, but it soon turned into a career. He absolutely loved teaching kids of all ages how to swim, but his 3-5 class was his favorite. According to him, they were always the most enthusiastic group, and because the kids were so young, he had to keep the classes small to keep an eye on them. They were only a few lessons in, but some kids had already mastered treading water, which Steve was immensely proud of, not to mention relieved since it was his least favorite task. 

“Okay, I think that’s all for today, kiddos,” Steve smiled. “Great work today! Go ahead and dry off and find your mommies and daddies.”

As Steve toweled off, receiving many soaked “thank you, coach Harrington!” hugs, he saw a familiar woman approach him. He gave a friendly smile, waved, and walked over. As he got closer, he realized it was Y/N, an old friend from high school.

“Hey, Y/N!” he said.

“Oh my gosh, Steve!” you said in surprise. “I didn’t know you were the coach Harrington!”

“You’ve heard of me?” Steve asked in surprise.

“Yeah, yeah! I’ve been trying so much to get Daisy—Daisy, honey, come on,” you said, lightly pushing your daughter from behind your legs, “I’ve been trying to get Daisy to learn how to swim, and nothing I’ve done has worked, so one of my mom friends suggested I come see you about classes.”

“Oh, wow,” Steve smiled, “I didn’t know that I was so famous! Hi, Daisy,” he said, kneeling down, “I’m coach Harrington, I used to go to school with your mommy.”

“Hi,” Daisy whispered.

“You look a lot like her,” Steve smiled, making Daisy hug your legs. 

“I can’t believe you’ve got a daughter,” Steve said. “It feels like just yesterday that you and I were sharing notes in Mr. Hayden’s class.”

“I know, time is funny that way,” you smiled. “It’s good to see you, Steve.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Steve smiled back. “So, are you still with—”

“No, um, sorry to cut you off, but I can’t really discuss it with, you know,” you trailed off, looking down at Daisy. 

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” Steve apologized, but you shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it at all,” you smiled, looking at Steve. He looked back at you, a bit of blush appearing on his cheeks, then he snapped himself back to reality.

“Swimming lessons!” he yelled.

“Right, right, swimming lessons, the whole point of me coming here,” you said, feeling a bit foolish.

“It’s easy to get caught up in nostalgia,” he smiled. “But for lessons, we’re only about three lessons in, so Daisy can join this class if she wants,” he offered. “And I can also meet with you both sometime this week to catch her up before the next class.”

“That would be great, thank you, Steve,” you smiled, holding his arm. “So, when are the class?”

“Every Tuesday at four.”

“Okay, I think we can make that work,” you smiled, looking at Daisy. “I’m actually Daisy’s teacher, so we can leave right after school’s done.”

“You’re a teacher? That’s so great, Y/N,” Steve smiled. “What grade do you teach?”

“Kindergarten,” you said.

“Kindergarten, huh?” Steve said, kneeling down to Daisy again. “So, how old would that make you, Daisy bud?” he asked sweetly, making Daisy giggle. 

“She’s a sucker for nicknames,” you chuckled. “Tell him, sweetie,” you encouraged.

“Five,” Daisy said quietly.

“Five years old! That’s a great age to be,” Steve smiled. 

“How old are you?” Daisy asked Steve, her big eyes sparkling.

“I’m 26,” Steve replied. 

“Just like Mommy!” Daisy exclaimed.

“Yes! Mr. Harrington went to school with Mommy,” you said. “He was really nice!”

“Your mommy has always been very kind,” he winked at you, “and smart too! Your mommy was the smartest girl in her class.”

“Wow,” Daisy gasped, looking up at you in awe. You kissed her forehead softly, then looked back at Steve.

“I’m still just as unathletic though. Between you and me, I still don’t know how to swim properly.”

“Well, I can teach you!” Steve offered. 

“Really? I feel like it would be so embarrassing!” you said bashfully.

“We can make it a private Mommy and Me class! Only if you want to, of course,” Steve said.

“You’d really do that for us?” you asked quietly. 

“Of course I would,” Steve said quickly. “You’ve always been kind to me, it’s about time I paid you back.”

“Well, thank you, Steve. But, I-I don’t have a lot of money—”

“It’s free.”

“I couldn’t, Steve—”

“It would be my pleasure, really,” Steve said, holding your arm. “Please, I want to.”

You sighed as you looked down at Daisy, who was playing with the zipper on your bag. You brushed her hair back softly and looked at Steve, whose eyes were warmly fixed on you. How could that look still have power almost a decade after being in high school? 

“Okay, let’s do it.”

-🏊-

“There are my girls!” Steve smiled as he stood by the pool. Daisy released your hand and ran over to Steve, who picked her up and twirled her around. 

You both had been taking lessons from Steve for two months now, and it had provided you and Steve plenty of time to reconnect. For the most part, he was a brand new guy; he was sweet, caring, and hardworking, but he was just as handsome as always. What struck you most, though, was his relationship with Daisy. In all of your lessons, he was patient, understanding, and clearly loved being with kids. You thought that maybe he was just being nice to Daisy for your sake, but when you not-so coincidentally visited the pool the same days as his other lessons, you soon realized that he loved every single kid he taught. No one was deprived of his attention. One day, you decided to ask him about it.

“So, you really love kids, don’t you?” you said as you helped Daisy fix her water wings so she could swim around on her own. 

“I really do,” Steve chuckled. “I blame it all on Dustin Henderson, actually.”

“How in the world?” you laughed.

“Well, he sort of… latched? Onto me when he was thirteen or something. You go through life and all the sucky things, and I sort of turned into a babysitter for him and his little friends. Then, they grew up, but I wanted that feeling back, that feeling that I’m needed by the kids. So many kids need a parental figure that’s not going to be judgmental or overbearing. My parents were like that, and it was miserable. I just want to bring some joy to my kids’ lives, you know?”

“I totally understand, Steve. It’s hard to keep this little one happy all the time,” you said, poking Daisy’s side. “But that’s really great, I’m glad you’ve found your calling. The kids obviously love you—I mean, Daisy, Daisy loves you,” you stumbled.

“Well, don’t tell the other kids, but Daisy’s my favorite,” he smirked. “And I like her mom, too,” he winked, making you blush. 

“Do you, now?” you asked, trying to be flirty.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Not exactly the best time to tell you, but, hey, I thought I’d be honest.”

“Well, I like my daughter’s swim coach, so,” you trailed off, smirking. 

“Don’t tell him, it’ll go to his head,” he chuckled. 

“Mm, well, he better prepare for this, because I was going to ask him if he’d like to come over for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, really?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Well, Daisy asked, so don’t let your ego get too big.”

“Are you kidding me? Daisy bud asking me is so much cooler,” Steve joked. “I’m never going to live that down, I’m walking on air. Did you hear that, Daisy bud? I’m coming over for dinner!”

“Yay!” Daisy yelled, making a big wave that splashed on your face. Steve chuckled as he went to move the hair out of your face, his laughs soon softening as he looked at you longingly. 

“Sorry, Mommy, you’re still pretty,” Daisy said bashfully.

“She sure is, Daisy bud,” Steve smiled. 

-🏊-

You fiddled with your outfit as you waited for Steve to arrive. Daisy had already decided on her outfit, wanting to wear a bright green tutu with her favorite t-shirt, a striped one with a dog on it. She added a pair of jean shorts, rain boots, and a hat with bear ears, and you really had never seen her look better. You loved her fun, individual style, and she was the cutest child you had ever seen, in your not-so-biased opinion. You, on the other hand, were just settling on your fifth outfit when you heard your doorbell ring. Smoothing out your blouse, you ran downstairs to open the door. Steve was standing there, holding two small packages and a bouquet of flowers.

“Hey there,” he smiled. “These are for you,” he said, handing you the flowers.

“Oh, Steve, thank you so much,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Come in.”

“Mr. Harrington!” Daisy squealed, running to hug his knees.

“Hey, little one,” he chuckled. “Here’s something for you,” he said as he handed her one of the small packages. She opened it up to see a fuzzy stuffed rabbit, which made her squeal again.

“Thank you, Mr. Harrington, thank you!”

“Of course, Daisy bud. And hey, you can call me Steve if you want.”

Daisy blushed as she hid herself in Steve’s knees again. 

“Well, you two can hang out while I finish up dinner, if that’s okay,” you said, looking at Steve.

“Oh, absolutely! Daisy bud and I have plenty to discuss, and she promised me she’d show me The Big Comfy Couch show.”

“You’ll enjoy that,” you smiled.

“Oh, and this is for after dinner,” Steve smiled, handing you the other package. “Made it myself,” he said happily. 

“Blueberry pie, wow! Thank you,” you smiled.

“Of course. Now, go ahead and do what you need to. I’m off to my happy place,” he chuckled, holding Daisy’s outstretched hand. You giggled to yourself and walked into the kitchen.

You soon finished preparing dinner, and as you passed by to set the table in the dining room, you saw Steve looking down with intense concentration. You set the plates down and walked over to them, hearing their conversation.

“And then I have to put glitter on so that we can match,” Daisy said quietly as Steve nodded. You felt your heart melt as you saw Steve gently painting Daisy’s nails, messy polish all over his own. As you walked over, they both looked up at you excitedly.

“We’re becoming beautiful,” Steve beamed.

“Mommy, you have to match us too!” Daisy exclaimed, holding her hands up to see.

“Wow, Steve is better at nails than Mommy,” you chuckled. “You guys are adorable, I can barely stand it!”

“Steve, will you paint Mommy’s nails?” Daisy asked.

“Maybe after dinner, if Mommy wants me to,” Steve smiled, looking up at you.

“It would be a pleasure,” you replied. “I haven’t had a decent manicure in years.”

“You deserve it,” Steve said, smirking.

“You deserve it, Mommy!” Daisy giggled.

“Okay, my little cuckoo bird, go ahead and get yourself cleaned up for dinner,” you said, holding her hand. “I think your nails are dry enough, but be careful, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy,” Daisy smiled as she hopped off of the couch. You took her place and sat down in front of Steve. He held up his pink glitter-polished hands for you to see.

“She’s going places,” he chuckled. 

Without thinking, you leaned forward and kissed Steve, holding the side of his face with your hand. It was long, passionate, and an explosion of your emotions. He kissed back, leaning forward towards you, and you could feel him start to smile. As you broke away, he let out a soft laugh.

“I don’t know where that came from,” you said apologetically. “I just—you’re just so great with Daisy and me and—I  just—haven’t felt this much love from someone in a while. It’s so hard being on my own with Daisy, and it gets lonely at times, and I just want to find someone who cares for both of us the way you do and I—”

Steve held your face and kissed you again, deeply. A tear fell down your cheek as you returned the kiss, feeling overwhelmed with love.

“I never thought that I’d be able to find this kind of love either,” Steve said. “I’ve always felt like such a failure, like no one wants me—”

“You’re not a failure,” you whispered.

“You and Daisy make me feel like I’ve won the lottery,” Steve said, holding your face. “I know that Daisy isn’t my own, but the more I get to know her, the more I want to be in her life. And I really want to be in your life too, Y/N. What do you say?”

You kissed Steve again, softer this time. 

“Yes.”

🏊 -Two Years Later-

“So, what color?” Steve asked, holding up four polishes for you to see.

“I think I’d like the dark blue please,” you smiled.

“I couldn’t have selected a better one myself,” he said cheerfully, then began to paint your toenails. Daisy walked over with her favorite glitter polish and rested her hands on your very pregnant belly.

“Mommy? Will you paint my nails please?”

“Of course, sweetheart! It’ll be like a nail polish train,” you said, making you both giggle.

“But who will paint Daddy’s nails?” she asked with concern.

“Mm, maybe you can paint them when I’m done with yours?” you suggested.

“Okay!” she giggled, handing you her polish. 

As you and Steve finished up, Daisy gave you a hug, admiring her new nails. Steve closed the polish bottle and grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him.

“Payment!” he said, puckering up. You laughed, kissing him softly. 

“Okay, Daddy, time for your nails! What do you want this time?” Daisy said, pulling her box of manicure equipment closer to him.

“Hmm, can I just have some stickers please?” he said, looking at the stickers with little fruit on them.

“Sure!” Daisy said cheerily. “Payment?” she asked, making Steve chuckle. He kissed her forehead, then pulled her in for a hug.

“I love you, my Daisy bud.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

-🏊-

Taglist: @tillkummer @mlle-ayka @fanficfanatic204 @klaine-92 @aurumbelis @onlyangel-444 @beep-beep-sherlock @morishitoshi @onceuponathreetwoone @toomanybandstocare @underthebatcape @zeldaknight @fieldofsecretss @prettyinpunk85 @igotbasicdrag @gothicfaires @thatonecurlygirl @luvthatlovestolove @loliakeoghan23 @dearelliewrites @mslunawinchester @efvyqrs @simonsbluee @inkedaztec @dumplinshee @pastel-abyss-x @frozenhuntress67 @hawkins-hs @witheringawayagain @theshinyrock @highpriestessfae @pinkgothiccprincess @persephone13 @katsukis1wife @murnsondock @fictionlandslanddreams @srapalestina @babyghouly @madformunsonsstuff @harrys-tittie @middle--fingering @urmomgov @maybankstarkey @jbetches @stardustmunson @maltinonka

#staygoldwriting #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve Harrington x female reader #steve Harrington x fem!reader #steve Harrington x single!mom!reader #steve harrington

[mrs-march-ahs]

if you don't see something you remember reading from me, or think you remember reading from me, please send me an ask <3

-

♡━━The Evans

First Anniversary with the Evans

What your Favorite Evan Says about You

What the Evans Would Call Their Kids

How the Evans Would Cheer You Up

What The Evans Would Do If You Were Insecure

Pet Names Evans Would Call You

How The Evans Cuddle

Certain Things I Think About The Evans

What Jobs The Evans Would Have

The Evans Drunk

The Evans Losing At A Game

The Evans As Kids

The Evans Zodiac Signs, Emotional Needs, Birthdays and Love Languages

What The Evans Are Like With Kids

The Evans Being Jealous

The Evan’s Heights

How The Evans Act When They Have A Crush On You & How They React When You Tell Them You Like Them Too

Are the Evans Dog Or Cat People?

The Reader Spoiling The Evans

The Evans With An Artsy S/O

The Worst Things About The Evans

Settling Down With The Evans

Valentine's Day With The Evans

Do the Evans Like Boobs or Butts more? *

What Turns the Evans On & Off*

Dirtiest Thing The Evans Would Be Into*

The Evans Losing Their Virginities*

The Evans Finding Out You’re Bisexual*

The Evans Being Dominated/ Pegged*

Which Evans Last The Longest*

How The Evans Cook

Cockwarming The Evans*

Which Evans I Could Fight*

Sharing a Dorm Room With The Evans

Evan's Biggest Fears

Eco-Friendly Evans

♡━━Stranger Things

Being Eddie's Girlfriend

Nancy Wheeler Humiliation Kink*

Bully! Billy Having a Crush On You

Billy Hargrove's Piss Kink

Steddie Adopting Kids

Fruity Four: Zodiac Signs, Love Languages, Birthdays

Steve Harrington's Nightmare

Fruity Four Dream Threesomes*

Billy's a Nasty Fuck*

♡━━Quick Thoughts [Stranger Things]

Steddie Duets

Passive Aggressive Domestic! Eddie

Modern Steddie's Ringtones

Steddie & Fireworks

Steddie Taking Care of Each Other

*Steddie Saving Each Other In Contacts

Steve "Whiny Princess" Harrington

Venezuelan Eddie

Eddie's Girlfriend Getting a Period

Eddie's Username

Bat! Eddie

Eddie x Your Boobs

Eddie's Kids Names?

Eddie's School Subjects (Discussion)

Steve Knowing Your Body*

Steve's Child Commercial

Steve's Daughter the Class President

Teacher Harrington

Steve at Graduation

Robin snacking

Robin flirting

♡━━Kai Anderson

Arguing with Kai

Being Pregnant With Kai's Baby

Soft Kai Headcannons

Getting in Trouble with Your Math Teacher, Mr Anderson* (1)

Teacher, Mr Anderson (2)*

Kai, Your Math Teacher (3)*

Kai Anderson Punishing You*

Kai Anderson Marking His Territory*

Kai Using You As a Training Dummy*

Reading Dominating Kai*

Taking Care of Kai In Prison* (1)

Kai Taking Care of You In Prison* (2) [KW]

Taking Kai Out of Prison* (3)

Kai's Rules*

Kai's Punishment System*

Fashion Show For Kai* [KW]

Kai Helps You Find A Purpose [KW]

Kai Being Protective Over You [KW]

Kai's Reddit DDLG Post* [KW]

Kai's Reddit Crush Post* [KW]

Pre-Cult Kai, Your Adderall Dealer* [KW]

Pre-Cult Kai NSFW Alphabet*

Pre-Cult Kai SFW Alphabet

Kai Impregnating You*

Proving Your Loyalty To Kai*

Pre-Cult Kai's Mommy Kink [Strip Club]*

President Kai Anderson's Leaked Sex Tape*

Watersports with Kai*

Soft Subby Pre-Cult Kai*

Pre-Cult Kai's Solo Fun*

Cockwarming Kai*

Kai Preparing You For The White House*

Kai's Desperate Need for One More Messiah*

♡━━Peter

Peter Maximoff Halloween Costume

Venn Diagram of Bitch Boys

[aryanightshade]

This Episode of Stranger Things is Called: Playdate

-

{two new messages}

“Hi, I’m calling for a… Eddie Manson? No, Munson. Sorry. Jerry writes like a chicken. Uh, my name is Alice, I work for the parks department. You called about the job posting we had up on the community board on Main Street, and I was wondering if you wanted to come in for an interview later today? We need someone in the position ASAP, so please give me a call back when you get the chance. Thanks!”

-

Eddie wakes up on the couch with the headache of someone mildly hungover. Which is irritating because he didn’t get drunk or high last night. Aside from almost burning down their apartment, he didn’t do anything fun at all, actually. His life has become spectacularly un-fun recently, what with—

Right. Embarrassing himself in front of their neighbor. The one who looks like a swimsuit model. 

Steve. 

Steve with the luscious flowing hair and pretty smile and tan skin that Eddie wants to lick all over. 

That Steve. The Steve who smiled at him and lit Eddie up from the inside like he swallowed a ball of sunlight. 

In the light of day, it’s actually worse than Eddie thought. He slipped while running down a flight of stairs and knocked over a trashcan like a total klutzy idiot. How can he show his face after making such a fool of himself? Steve is going to take one look at him standing on his porch doing his friendly Mr. Rogers thing in one of those tight, preppy polo shirts, and Eddie is going to combust into ashes on the spot, leaving his only child homeless and orphaned. 

The obvious solution here is to become a hermit. Eddie will simply never leave the safety of their house ever again, and therefore drastically decrease his chances of making a complete and utter buffoon out of himself in front of another man.  

Eddie presses a couch cushion over his face and groans. God, he’s pathetic. He sees an attractive man and immediately all his brain cells liquify and trickle out his ears. It’s probably for the best, anyway, him being so weird. Small town Indiana isn’t the best place to be picking up dudes. There’s no anonymity here, and besides, Hot Neighbor Steve has at least one child, which means he likes women enough to procreate with one. He probably wouldn’t respond well to Eddie salivating over him. He probably has a wife. Eddie hasn’t seen her yet, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t exist. She’s probably really pretty and knows how to make Hamburger Helper without burning down the neighborhood, too. 

Realistically, Steve will probably just ignore him. Eddie is self-aware enough to know that he’s off-putting to a lot of people, but a little part of him isn’t sure he wants to be ignored. He’s no stranger to chasing highs, and the one that filled him when those warm hazel eyes pinned him down like a butterfly in amber feels worth sucking into his lungs until he suffocates. Which is stupid. Eddie is gay, but he’s not a moron, and people like his neighbor don’t generally say yeswhen he offers to suck them off between some dumpsters behind a pizza restaurant. 

Not that he would. He would take Hot Neighbor Steve to dinner first. Because he’s a gentleman. But he won’t do that. If he sees Steve Harrington around, he won’t do anything at all, he decides. He’ll be real regular about it and hope Steve doesn’t remember Eddie tripping over his own feet like a moron. 

Eddie’s theatrically self-indulgent misery lasts another ten minutes or so before he screams quietly into the pillow and tosses it aside with a dramatic sigh. It’s fine. This will be fine. This is only temporary, after all. 

He’s trying to be optimistic, so of course, it’s inevitable, like heat death and rich people flouting traffic laws, that Eddie will run into Steve Harrington again. 

Read on Ao3

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie fic #fluff #the way they pine for each other is truely pathetic #steddie big bang #steddiebang23

[sunflowerharrington]

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 | 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞

part four: feels like an explosion when you’re around me

mfp masterlist

content warnings: masking emotions, flinching, post traumatic stress disorder (ptsd), sexual thoughts, swearing, a character raising their voice, shouting

taglist: @myobmaya @creneal @thisishellfire @hellfirehaley @taecube @steveslittlesunflower @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @wzrlds @eddies-bat @quickiesgirl @fxllfaiiry @liviawritesthings @corrodedhawkins @eddiebillysteve @mvrylee @untoldshortsofthefandoms @nevermore66 dm comment or ask me if you would like to be added or taken off

notes: i'm super busy with college which is why updates are really slow, please bare with me. as always, billy’s thoughts are italicized

summary: it’s the beginning of the project, and the beginning of the end of everything, possibly. and we get to know a little about “sebastian the rose” and “bonnie the sunflower”, sloane’s characters from her short story she wrote when she was nine!

If anything, the one thing Billy was good at was basketball. It was one of the only things he cared about other than his looks and his beloved Camaro which he named Celeste. And so he found himself signing up for the Hawkins basketball team, taking the pen in his left hand to scribble his name down. It totally wasn’t because he knew Sloane was a cheerleader.

Then he looked at the sign up sheet for the cheer squad with Sloane’s name at the very top, and underneath that was Heather Holloway’s from his math class. It was then that Billy had confirmed that Sloane’s handwriting was just as beautiful as she. Slanted letters with a swirl at the end of a cursive ‘S’ and a cursive ‘M’ for the start of both her first and last names. He also noticed that she chose not to write her middle name down.

Billy couldn’t comprehend how Sloane could look the way she did, walking past him down the hall with a delicate wave. She looked beautiful in anything she wore, and it led him to wonder what she would look like in more of his clothes than just his jacket… or no clothes at all… Sitting on his bed in nothing but his favorite red shirt, her glossy lips inching closer and closer to his—

No. Can't have those thoughts in public.

He noticed how his pants began tightening ever so slightly, and he groaned under his breath, hoping he wouldn’t have to rub one out in the bathroom and be late for English class; the class he would be sitting beside Sloane in. The girl he was just fantasizing about.

Just fucking great.

He waited for Robin outside the music room, tapping his fingers against the tops of his thighs, and then they walked together to Mr Green’s English, with Robin rambling on about having to do a project with Nancy.

“Is this Nancy chick really that bad?” He asked, regretting it instantly as it sent Robin into another tangent. Meanwhile, Billy had noticed Steve Harrington walking to class with Sloane. He was talking animatedly with a bright smile crossing his handsome face, and it only made Billy’s blood boil even more. Why? He was unsure.

He just didn’t understand why Steve got to talk to her and he couldn’t. Were they… boyfriend and girlfriend?

If they were boyfriend and girlfriend she wouldn’t be wearing my jacket. Again.

She must really like it.

Should I let her keep it?

Thankfully Steve and Sloane had made it into the classroom before Billy and Robin, saving Billy the need to mess up Steve’s very punchable looking face. As they entered, Mr Green asked them to sit with their partners, busy stapling many copies of papers in his hands for tests for the younger students.

Billy turned to look for Sloane in an instant, who had been turned around talking to Heather, exchanging a purple and black bracelet and a blue and pink bracelet, with Heather taking the blue and pink one to match her backpack. Sloane’s gaze drifted from Heather’s and towards Billy’s after sliding the bracelet on her wrist, waving him over while Heather got up to sit next to Jason for the project.

Billy trudged over and slouched into his chair, letting out a loud sigh as he did so, making her giggle under her breath, sending a wave of something through Billy’s veins. Happiness.

He turned to look at Robin next for some reassurance, only to see her talking with her partner, Nancy. Maybe all Robin’s ranting was for nothing.

“Hey, pumpkin,” he said with a smile, twisting his ring around his finger as he tried to get comfortable in the chair. Sitting on sharp, damp rocks by the sea on a windy day would be more comfortable. “I like your bracelet.”

“Thank you, Heather made it for me,” she grinned, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “Pumpkin? Is this a nickname upgrade?” She leaned in closer to his ear. “Am I no longer your heartstopper?”

You still are.

“Am I not your James Dean anymore?”

And with that she burst into a fit of giggles, taking a gentle hold of his wrist in an attempt to ground herself. He pulled his hand away immediately, and she noticed, but never said a word about it.

Not yet, anyway.

She turned away from him for a moment to pull a purple notebook and a black and purple pen out of her bag.

“I’m sorry that I held your hand without asking,” she muttered under her breath, turning her attention back to Mr Green, who had begun speaking again.

“Okay class, for today I’m going to need the names of at least three works of literature that you are considering. I expect the name of the piece you have chosen, an interpretation of the piece and a schedule for what you are going to do for the duration of the project by next Monday. So you all have a week to complete this assignment and I want no excuses as to why it’s not done.”

Billy rolled his eyes. He didn’t know any works of romantic literature, let alone three or more. So he was hoping that Sloane would know at least two.

Two was better than one or none.

“Do you have any idea of what we could do?” She asked, finally breaking the silence between the two, a soft and hopeful smile appearing on her pink lips as she flipped open her notebook and wrote the date at the top of the page. Monday, September 1st 1984; two days after the day Billy fell in love with her.

The day his life officially started.

“No,” he said plainly. “Do you?”

“No, I don’t. Romance has never really been my forte,” she shook her head, and after she wrote both of their names down on the page in black ink, she began doodling a little purple heart next to Billy’s name, knocking the air out of his lungs for a second.

The way she wrote his name was beautiful, not to mention how adorable the heart looked next to his name. But maybe she did that for everyone and it meant nothing. Maybe he was reading too much into it.

“Oh really?” he smirked. “And here I thought you’d be like Shakespeare.”

She raised one of her eyebrows. “He wrote tragedies, Billy. Lots of them. My favorite is Othello. It’s so interesting to me.”

Othello interests her? Mental note; ask her about Othello.

“Well let’s just hope our project doesn’t turn into one of those.”

There was an awkward moment of silence between the two and Billy suddenly hated the fact that Robin was sitting in front of him. Shit, more ammunition for her to tease him with. He rolled his eyes as Robin began making kissy faces at him and making her hands into a heart, though a little smile started to tug at the corners of his lips. Robin smiled back before turning back around to continue her oh-so-riveting conversation with Nancy.

She would rather watch paint dry on a wall than listen to Nancy drone on about Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. More like; Steve ‘Hair for Brains’ Harrington. She thought he was dimmer than a broken lightbulb. Dimmer than Jonathan Byers’ mom’s broken Christmas lights.

Billy’s gaze shot back to Sloane. His sweetheart. His dream girl. His new obsession. And she smiled, a little dimple appearing in her cheek… and it nearly murdered him with how much he wanted to kiss it.

“Maybe we could do a short story? I feel like everyone else will do a love song…”

“I don’t know any love songs, so I think we should do a story too,” he admitted, which was sort of true, he just couldn’t think of any from the top of his head with her so close to him. And she’d be running for the hills if he said her voice was like a love song, so he stopped himself.

“Me too,” she sighed, twirling her pink pen in between her fingers, her nails painted with a thin coat of blue nail polish. The same blue as the scrunchie she wore in her hair on the night they met.

“So like, a short story about what?”

“I um… I know a short story about sunflowers and roses as a metaphor for two star-crossed lovers but I don’t know how good it is. I wrote it myself when I was nine. It’s engraved in my mind forever.”

“I see that many of you have not started, mainly Mr Hargrove and Miss Mitchell,” Mr Green spoke up, his gaze focussed on the two. “I suggest you start now as this is part of your daily grade.”

“Ooh, looks like we’re in trouble,” Sloane whispered in his ear, giggling, unable to see his body shooting into overdrive as she did so.

“Uh, yeah… I guess we are.”

“We wrote our names down, sir! At least we’re not making out in the back of the classroom,” Sloane piped up, winking at Billy. “Though I wouldn’t mind that...”

Billy’s heart skipped a beat. One beat gone, two beats, three beats, four…

Does she mean that? Who would wanna kiss me?

“Okay, that’s enough, Miss Mitchell. No need to scare off Mr Hargrove on his second day.” Mr Green said, sighing. “Alright class, back to work!”

Sloane began to explain the story of the two flowers, turning back to look Billy in the eye: a metaphor for two lovers. Sunflower and Rose. In this case, one male and one female. Bonnie and Sebastian. Bonnie was very delicate, gentle like a sunflower. She was also like a daisy, but a daisy that would unfortunately be ruined, slowly getting all of her petals ripped out until all that is left is her stem. Bonnie didn’t want to give up so she pushed herself into the thrones of the beautiful, irresistible rose next to her. His name was Sebastian. Pushing against him until all that is left is her battered and bruised stem - Internally and externally. But sometimes one petal stays, hanging onto dear life; a glimmer of hope that everything will turn out okay if she held onto that petal. And then she started to bloom again, this time stronger against the storm and the rose.

As Sebastian was pulling at Bonnie’s petals, her stem got caught and ripped through her skin, breaking her down, weakening her stem. Her petals began to wither, and with no other sunflowers around to give her light to stay strong, she perished.

Until Sebastian’s began to bloom.

Billy sighed dreamily as Sloane continued her story, his elbow propped up on the table and his chin in his hand, his heart palpitating in his chest as he watched the way her lips moved as she spoke.

“The sunflower began to bloom one day, her petals fluttering open in the sunshine and closing in the evening, until another began to grow. But this sunflower was unusual. It has thorns growing from it and a severely damaged stem. Bonnie weaved her way around Sebastian, strengthening him even though his thorns were cutting into her, and they grew together in harmony until a fire appeared. They both had to close up and protect themselves from each other and the fire, but the fire enticed Sebastian and he began to burn as he got closer and closer until he looked back at Bonnie and realized everything he needed was right there and had been this entire time.”

I—

“That’s amazing,” he said, and she beamed. And he could have died right there. But at least he would have died happy.

“Thank you, Billy. Seriously, that means so much to me. I don’t share the story that often…”

“So I should feel honoured?”

“Very.”

They somehow managed to come up with three other pieces after that to hand in for the first step of their project. Thank heavens for poetry books, vinyl records and Sloane. Because Billy couldn’t think a single damn thought with her around.

“What about There Goes My Baby by The Drifters?” She asked, tapping her pen against her lip for a moment. “Maybe if we can’t think of any others we could use that one.”

“Mhmm, good idea.” Very good idea. Thoughts other than Sloane would be good to have right now for Billy.

He didn’t even hear what she had said.

𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 ❤︎

☁︎ 𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲.

☁︎ 𝐌𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

☁︎ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭 116 𝐛𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞.

☁︎ 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲.

Her writing is adorable. Just like her.

He watched as her pen glided over the thin sheet of paper in her spiral notebook, furrowing his brows when he saw her writing down William Shakespeare. “I thought you said he wrote tragedies?”

“He writes poetry too, hot stuff,” she said with a smile, her eyes lighting up.

She likes poetry?

“Also we can do our project at my house, by the way. Just in case… Um… In case your parents don’t want some random girl coming into their house.”

There was no way Billy’s parents would let him have a girl over. Not that he cared. He just didn’t want Sloane to have to meet Neil.

Even if they ended up together by some miracle, she was never stepping within ten feet of Neil Hargrove.

Ever.

“That would be for the best,” he said, smiling gratefully. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome! Ooh—!” she said, interrupting herself. “Are you excited to get your picture taken tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry? My picture?”

“For our yearbooks!” She chirped. “We have to get our picture taken tomorrow morning… Did you not know about this? I’m sorry for not telling you—”

“Stop apologizing for everything, sweet thing,” he chuckled, pulling his arm around the back of her chair, relaxing in his seat.

‘Twas about damn time he did.

He swore he could hear her breath stutter as he let his arm rest on the back of her chair, brushing against her shoulder blades through his jacket encasing her body for a split second. But he didn’t want to ask her about it in case he was hearing things.

“I already look perfect,” he half-joked. “I don't need to do any preparation for this. Except for my hair, trimming my moustache, making sure my necklace looks right, painting my nails black again… So, I guess I do have to do a lot, actually.”

“You’re funny,” she laughed, hitting his arm as she did so, making him subconsciously flinch and pull back.

Why the fuck would she do that?

Her brows furrowed as he did so, her eyes now downcast towards the table, before looking back up at him from underneath her mascara-coated lashes, an apologetic look flashing across her face. “I… I’m so sorry, Billy.”

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he said, mentally kicking himself off the roof of the school for not masking it that time, that feeling that you get just before tears begin welling in your eyes coursing through his body, shooting it into overdrive. And not a good kind of overdrive. “Let’s just get this stupid project done.”

“I don’t think the project is stupid…”

He didn’t even want to think about it. Not one thought about his past. He hated it all and wanted to get rid of his past forever, so there would be room to make more memories in Hawkins.

Preferably with a girl by the name of Sloane Nadine Mitchell, though that would be practically impossible. She didn’t like him like that!

“Okay. Um… I’m still sorry, by the way. I know you don’t wanna talk about what just happened, but—“

“Can you just drop it? Jesus, I don’t care if you’re sorry or not. How many times do I have to tell you to stop saying sorry?” he said, raising his voice ever so slightly, a frown creasing between his brows. “We’ve got our shit done, now stop talking to me.”

“But I—”

“We’re just doing a stupid fucking project together, it’s nothing more than that. You don’t need to know me, Sloane. Can you not take a fucking hint? Are you that stupid?”

“Billy, just calm down, please—!”

“I said; drop it! Do you not understand what ‘stop’ means?! And your sunflower story is fucking garbage, we’re taking that out of the project. And I never wanna hear about it again!” He raised his voice louder, slamming his hand down on the table, then excusing himself from the classroom.

Sloane jumped upon hearing the door slam, tears beginning to well in her eyes almost immediately after, especially as whispers from her classmates began to get the better of her. She hugged his jacket around her, basking in his presence as tears filled her glassy eyes…

This was the first of a thousand cuts of the rose’s thorn into the sunflower’s stem.

And there would be many more to come… sooner than she thought.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #sloane mitchell #my oc character #my favorite poison #billy hargrove fluff #billy redemption #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x oc #𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 ❤︎ #back on my clown shit #stranger things x oc #original character #fanfic #fluff #angst #smut #my fic

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

You've Got to Pick Up Every Stitch (Whumptober Day 25)

We refuse to allow this witch to continue and infect our community! We must save the souls of our town!"

The sounds of the small mob agreeing enthusiastically were audible to Eddie's ears but he was more focused on the noose pulled tightly around his neck. The man stood next to him glared down at the younger boy as Eddie tried pulling at the ropes binding his wrists behind his back.

"And we refuse to allow this son of Satan continue his rampage!" The man continued as he yanked on the noose. Eddie choking for air through his nose, the rag stuffed in his mouth obstructing his ability to breath. Despite having only the moonlight and scattered flashlights to light the crowd, Eddie grimly recognized some of the people in the mob that gathered to watch his death. Closing his eyes, Eddie's mind wandered to how the fuck after everything he went through, it was a crowd of angry humans that were going to kill him.

It had been a nice day. Relatively speaking. After he'd finally been discharged from the hospital to come home to Wayne and their new apartment a few weeks ago, Eddie found himself adjusting to life post upside down. Post Chrissy. After signing dozens and dozens of NDA papers, they'd announced his innocence on national TV. The blame was pinned on Jason Carver, saying he and Max had been the only survivors in the basketball player's rampage. Eddie might have felt if this was anyone except Jason Carver. The guy who made his life a living hell and tried to kill him. The guy who hurt anyone to get what he wanted, for fuck's sake he attacked an eleven year old. He'd seen Erica's bruised face when they were waiting in the hospital together. But the worst part was he was the reason Max was still in the hospital in a coma. Any empathy he might have had flew out the window every time he thought about Max.

Hawkins was still Hawkins though. And shit hole that it was, people were still unsurprisingly shitty. Nobody wanted to believe that their golden boy was a murderer. Most people usually keeping their disdain for the goth to a side eye in or a muttered insult but others were a lout louder. Name calling, small vandalism, or if he was really unlucky he'd run into Reverend Carver. Jason's dad. Seemed batshit crazy ran in the family, the man accosting him in the streets and calling him a son of Satan. Accusing him of corrupting the town's youth with his devilish wiles or whatever.

It was exhausting. Being bombarded on every side by these assholes but he had a few safe spaces. His current favorite of which was the local Family Video. Mr. Holier than thou and people like him refused to go in and he got to spend time bothering his two favorite people in the world.

"Are you going to actually buy something today Munson, or are you just going to stand around and loiter?"

"I am shocked you would accuse me of such a thing Harrington." Eddie grinned as he leaned across the return desk where Steve "the hair" Harrington stood with a disdainful look on his face as Eddie popped another Raisinet out of the box in his hands. "I am a paying customer who's come to spend my hard earned dollars on some family friendly entertainment."

"You didn't even pay for those." Steve gestured to the box of theater candy in Eddie's hands. In response, Eddie brought out a crumpled one from his back pocket and slid it across the counter with a smirk.

"Keep the change." He patted Steve on side of his face to which the younger man slapped his hand away.

"God, would you two stop flirting? I'm trying to alphabetize over here." Robin called from the other side of the nearly empty store. "Some jackass came through and decided to rip out the styrofoam inserts and didn't bother to put them back."

"Ah yes, the joys of retail work." Eddie remarked as he and Steve etched her grab a broom to sweep up the broken white plastic mess that covered the carpet.

"Well we can't all get lucky and sell drugs for a living." Steve replied before calling out to his coworker. "And it's not flirting!"

"Yeah Buckley, I like to think I have standards." Eddie added on with a look from Steve that said 'Really dude?'. Eddie had found out a lot about Steve when the guy decided to keep visiting him in the hospital. Like the fact he wasn't a total douche. And with the help of Buckley, that he didn't mind that Eddie liked dudes.

"Speak for yourself Munson, I am a catch." Steve said with a flip of his signature hair.

"The scoreboard would say otherwise." Robin countered from where she was sweeping up a styrofoam mess. The telltale small whiteboard was laid on the register counter. The current tally on You Suck almost filled the white slate. You Rule had a single stroke.

"Ugh, what would you know?" Steve huffed as Eddie laughed at the face Steve was making. Robin side eyeing him. She never said it but he knew that she knew about his not so minor crush on the former jock. He wasn't subtle about it but Steve was Steve and somehow remained oblivious to most things. Eddie's watch alarm going off made him look down to see it was almost four o'clock.

"Shit, got band practice." Eddie glanced back at Steve as he made his way to the door. "You know, if you ever want to, you could come watch me perform."

"I'm good." Steve replied. Maybe a little too quickly than Eddie would've hoped for.

Eddie didn't have his minivan anymore. One of the many things confiscated by the government along with their trailer, his guitar and everything that vaguely anything to do with the upside down. Plus side, he got the walking in his physical therapist recommended. Down side, his body despised every other step he took. Wishing he remembered to grab the cane the hospital gave him.

'Come on Eddie. Jeff's house is just a few blocks away.' He told himself. Walking along the sidewalk and humming the INXS song they'd been working on when he noticed a car coming down the road. It slowed down until it was right next to the metalhead.

'Shit.' Eddie tried to turn around as the car parked on the road next to him.

"You look like you could use some help." The window rolled down to reveal Mr. Carver. Because of course it was him, life seemed to have it out for him sometimes.

"I'm fine Mr. Carver. Thanks." It was worse when the people who hated him tried to act nice. It always meant that something bad was about to happen.

"It's Reverend." He corrected Eddie. Him getting out of the car made the metalhead look around nervously. Almost no one was out and he was out of view of the movie store.

'Fuck.'

"Come on, I'll give you a ride to wherever you're going." The man grabbed Eddie's elbow, practically stopping him in his tracks.

"Listen. I know you're trying to be a good Christian or whatever but-" Eddie was cut off by the man shoving something over his face.

"That wasn't a suggestion."

The sweet smell made his brain go fuzzy and the next time he was lucid, or at least aware of his surroundings, he was in the back of a moving car. Trying to breath was difficult, becoming aware of something (his bandana?) shoved in his mouth. His body was unusually heavy as words were spoken at him through the drugged fog.

"-sinner-"

"-Satan's grasp-"

"-witch. My son saw it himself."

Son? Oh right. Jason. Eddie wanted to laugh. Even in death he had it out for the goth.

Hands grasped at his body as Eddie felt his feet moving under him. Now completely awake for the first time. They were in the woods. It was dark out now as he was led through a small group of people gathered around a large white tree. A step stool was sat under it with a noose dangling from the branch. The murmured pieces coming into place as he realized what they were going to do. Hang him like a witch. He might've been able to outrun them before but his barely healed injuries, the grip on his shoulder and the brain fog he was still experiencing made any plan of escape impossible.

Now here he was, in the middle of what he'd hoped was a horrible nightmare, watching a crowd of people egging on his execution. Reverend Carver turning to him and whispering so only Eddie could hear him.

"This is for my son."

With that the stepstool Eddie was stood on was kicked out from under him.

He'd read about the Salem witch trials before. If they were lucky, the height they dropped from would cause their neck to snap so they wouldn't have to die a prolonged and agonizing death by strangulation. But again, the Munson luck was at work and he was left dangling from a tree branch, just barely clinging to life. Maybe it had been one minute, maybe five. His vision was blurred over now as his mind raced. The darkness slowly creeping in from the edges as he wondered if this was what Chrissy felt like that night in his trailer.

Eddie's mind was starting to drift off when he heard yelling. Maybe it was him? Or maybe hell was real and he was hearing the tormented screaming of what awaited him. The answer was apparently neither as he felt the weight of the rope around his neck disappear and his body fell to the ground hard. He let out a muffled cry and brought his knees up in an attempt to lessen the pain.

"No, no, no. Come on, Hey." It might have been the delirium from almost dying but Eddie could've sworn he was hearing Steve's voice. Eyes coming back into focus as a hand yanked the bandana out of his mouth to see his brown haired angel stooped over him. His usually perfect hair was messy as he helped Eddie sit up.

"Nngh...Steve? Is that you?" He asked, a smile crossing his face despite everything.

"Yeah, it's me." Steve took out a knife to hack the rope around Eddie's neck off before working at the ones on his wrists.

"How'd y...How'd you find me?"

"One of the kids saw when you were grabbed. We've been looking for you all day."

"Huh." Even when it seemed like the whole world was against him, it was nice to know there was still people who looked out for him. The darkness was still creeping into vision as he leaned into Steve's shoulder. "Hey Stevie? I'm tired.''

"I know Eddie, but I need you to stay awake until we get you to the hospital. Okay?"

"Yeah....thanks Stevie..." The young man still smiling as Steve helped him up and over to a waiting car in the distance. Eddie was vaguely aware of Steve taking his jacket off and wrapping it around the other boy's shoulders. "My knight in shining armor."

#stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #robin buckley #whumptober2022 #whump #whumptober day 25

[eddiemunsonsluvrrr]

Hey everyone! My name is Delilah! I’m so glad you’re here and have decided to check out my blog!

Here’s a little bit about me for you all to know!

I’m twenty-years-old.

My pronouns are she/her.

My fic reblog/recommendation page is @delilah-recommends !

I’m not new to Tumblr or the Stranger Things and Criminal Minds fandoms, this is just a new account because I haven’t been on here since I was sixteen which was a very embarrassing time XD.

I’ve been a huge Criminal Minds fan for years, and started watching the show when I was eleven (shocking, I know right. No wonder why I’m so traumatised lol). I’ve also been a massive fan of Stranger Things since the show premiered! And I have been resurrected to Tumblr because of Mr Eddie Munson (in my defence, Joe Quinn is beautiful).

My blog is not 18+. However, if I write anything smutty or anything that is remotely NSFW then I ask minors not to interact with those posts and block the tag ( #delilah.nsfw ).

You can call me by any nicknames (preferably no masculine ones, ‘sir’ etc), and you are always welcome to drop me a dm if you want to talk about anything too! I’m a really friendly person, I promise!

I am a major Swiftie, so there will be a lot of Taylor Swift references in my works XD.

I’m a part of some other fandoms, so don’t hesitate to drop an ask if you want to know them, or even if you want to get to know me! I love making new friends!

I will not tolerate any hate, bullying, racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia etc! Treat People With Kindness!

I am British, so any scheduled posts will be in GMT (the british time zone!). And I also apologise for any inaccuracies in fics set in other countries, don’t hesitate to drop me an inbox to fix anything!

Here is the Masterlist of all of my works and any of my non-fic posts which are my favourite!

Everything will be organised in chronological order, from oldest to newest!

Requests are currently open!

I can’t ensure that they will be completed quickly, due to me being in full-time education as well as having my own personal mental health struggles (which I’m on medication for!). But, I will try my best to get them written as quickly as possible!

Who I currently write for:

- Eddie Munson ( + Joseph Quinn )

- 001/Peter Ballard ( + Jamie Campbell Bower )

- Steve Harrington ( + Joe Keery )

- Spencer Reid ( + Matthew Gray Gubler )

- Benedict Bridgerton

- Anthony Bridgerton

- Robin Buckley ( + Maya Hawke )

#eddie munson #delilah rambles #eddiemunsonsluvrrr #joseph quinn #joe quinn #joe keery #steve harrington #robin buckley #maya hawke #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #001 #peter ballard #jamie campbell bower #stranger things #criminal minds #bridgerton #masterlist #intro post #introduction #get to know me #get to know the author #delilah.recommends #delilah.reblogs #delilah.writes

[otteranha]

I posted 520 times in 2022

That's 520 more posts than 2021!

41 posts created (8%)

479 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@steviesmunson

@milf-harrington

@unclewaynemunson

@uptownsteve

@babyboymunson

I tagged 174 of my posts in 2022

#stranger things - 62 posts

#steve harrington - 60 posts

#steddie - 51 posts

#eddie munson - 40 posts

#stranger things hc - 35 posts

#stranger things meta - 20 posts

#stranger things au - 13 posts

#robin buckley - 5 posts

#dustin henderson - 4 posts

#wayne munson - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 110 characters

#it’s only in character for dustin because he’s at that age when most people are dicks even to people they like

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Even at his douchebro worst Steve never pulled the “Do you know who my father is?” card. He took a secret pride that while the Harrington name might have smoothed his path, he’d never been the one to throw it in anyone’s face when he had a problem (unlike Tommy H. who brought up his cousin who worked in the governor’s office about once a day).

In fact Steve only ever resorted to such things once. The day they all came limping in to the hospital for medical treatment post- Vecna; Dustin with his sprained knee and ankle, Robin with the deep bruises where the vines had wound like ligatures, his day old bat bites starting to reopen, and Eddie with his fresh bites where Steve and Nancy had only just been in time to keep the creatures from biting deeper. Eddie, who the nurse on duty took one look at and told flatly that this was a Christian hospital and they wouldn’t help any devil worshiping psycho killers.

In the eruption that followed of Nancy shouting about due process, Dustin loudly proclaiming Eddie a hero, and Robin angrily reciting the Hippocratic oath, it was ultimately Steve who had the trump card. Because his father had served on the Board of Directors and his mother was a wiz at getting other rich people to cough up stupid amounts of money for charity dinners, and that might be the most useful they’d been to him in the past ten years, because all he had to do was narrow his eyes at the staff and ask perfectly calm, “Excuse me, do you know who my father is?”

2,098 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

#4

Carrying a badly injured Eddie out of the Upside Down, on the frantic drive to the hospital, Steve is the one who asks Dustin to radio someone to contact Wayne Munson so he can meet them at the hospital. There’s only one person still home clear, with access to a walkie, who’s willing to help them with no questions asked. Dustin radios his mom and asks her to find out where Mr. Munson is. Claudia calls every motel in Hawkins until she finds him and gives him the message.

That’s how Wayne comes to be waiting for his boy when they arrive at the emergency room. Because, holding Eddie together with practically his bare hands, Steve heard the softest whimper for his dad. And Steve knows what it’s like when you’re scared and in pain and what you want most in the world is your mom and dad. And he might not be able to give Eddie anything else but he can give him this.

2,104 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

#3

Whomst must I beg or bribe for Eddie being the one to find Steve and Robin wandering around Starcourt high off their asses?

Like, he knows Robin from band and they’re friendly, and he’s not going to leave someone so obviously under the influence unsupervised, especially a teenage girl who is definitely unfamiliar with hard drugs.

And he’d absolutely assume that Steve is to blame for the whole situation except that Steve looks like he just lost a fight with a cement truck, but he’s still threatening to throw hands with Eddie if Eddie messses with Robin, and they’re both babbling about Russians and secret elevators and alternate dimensions and goddamit Eddie just wanted to smoke some weed and watch Back to the Future.

2,197 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

#2

Their first Christmas together Eddie expects he and Steve to have the Great Unspoken American Socioeconomic Class Christmas Debate:

White lights vs colored lights

And he is prepared to die on the hill of rainbow lights, (though generously prepared to concede no tinsel or garland if Steve insists). Except Steve is 100% on board for rainbow lights, tinsel, handmade ornaments, whatever Munson Christmas tradition calls for. And Eddie and Wayne are appalled to learn that Steve actually never decorated a tree before because his mother always hired a professional to make sure everything looked perfect. But if you ask Steve, this is the most perfect tree he’s ever had.

3,041 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Steve’s always been told that the string of pearls from his grandmother would one day belong to his girl of his dreams, perfect accessory to compliment a wedding dress. When he’s getting his birth certificate and passport out of his father’s safe on the day he leaves for good the pearls in their velvet case catch his eye and on a whim, he takes them along. Leaves a note explaining that it won’t be a white wedding but they’ll be going to the person he loves most in the world.

It may seem incongruous on paper, but when Corroded Coffin plays their first big gig, everyone remarks about the total badassery of frontman Eddie Munson’s look, pairing black mesh shirt, frayed black jeans and combat boots with a string of flawless white pearls.

12,244 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[kaypeace21]

What's in a name? (Analysing all the names in stranger things)

*I'll be repeating some names more than once as I break down categories .

Show , book, and tv easterggs

Alot of character names may have deeper meaning but some are also refs to stories they liked. The stranger writers twitter posted a list of movies said to inspire s4 (which I’ll be referencing).

Dart- dustin names him this after d'artagenean (a 3 musketeers book character) and one of Dustin's fav candies (3 muskateers). Similarly his pet turtle yurtle is implied to be named after the dr Seuss’ story 'yertle the turtle'.

Brenner- main character from 'the birds', which was on the st s4 list.

Byers- john byers from x files. The duffers mentioned x files was an inspo for the show. Although John byers (from x files) resembles Murray as an unhinged conspiracy theorist. The documentary paradise lost was also cited as inspo for st- john byers and his son, terry, Michael, and Steve were names in said film

Jim Hopper- in Predator (another st inspo) he was a soldier who was flayed to death in the woods. Another character in the film with a similar fate was “Hawkins”.

Detective Wheeler and elle Holloway- from silent Hill franchise. Another ref mentioned by the Duffers. Holloway was the surname of st's Heather. Elle (is el) and Wheeler is Mike's surname. Wheeler was also on the ep of twiglight zone (another cited ref by the duffers) . In the ep 'mute' sheriff wheeler takes in a mute psychic girl as his foster daughter. So some hints at hopper too . Hopper even mentions el-anor (gilipse) in s1. The surname of a main character in the silent hill series.Lt. Colonel Sullivan (s4) could be a eastergg of silent hill 4 which had a Sullivan character.

Henderson- st twitter mentioned how all the bond films were on the s4 inspiration list . So Dustin's surname being the same as one of the bond characters is a nod. Duffers also mentioned ‘freaks & geeks’ as inspo- and 1 character’s surname was also Henderson (another nod).

Mrs Driscoll (from s3) - a nod to invasion of the body snatchers which was mentioned as inspo by the Duffers. And clear inspo for s3.

Powell (cop and partner of hopper ) - diehard films also on s4 list. He's named after the cop powell.

Callahan (cop and partner of Hopper) - father Callahan ref. He shows up in many of Stephen King novels. The Duffers have cited over 10 novels and books from him as inspo for st

Nancy- she's called ‘Nancy drew’ (from the novels). And the duffers have mentioned they are fans of elmstreet - who's main character was Nancy. Nancy also references 'Oliver twist" ,and that book has a character named Nancy in it. Nancy was also a first Lady in the 80s similar to her friend Barbara- who was also a first Lady in the 80s.Nancy's name might also be inspired by "Nancy Wheeler", a secondary character in the 1970 book Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret written by Judy Blume.

Fred (s4)- apparently a high-school journalist who may be friend or foe. This one is a stretch but given nancy maybe being an elmstreet ref- and her enemy being fred-die kreuger. Fred may have animosity to Nancy and that's why his name is Fred. I mean ... they even cast a new s4 character with Freddie kreuger's original actor.so...

Jason (s4) - is in the 1986 Nancy drew novel (when s4 takes place). He is similar to the duffers description. In the novel he's a rich, popular, arrogant jock and blackmailing students at the high-school . S3 even named one of its episodes after a nancy drew novel- so wouldn't surprise me.

Christie carpenter (s4/reffed in s1 by hopper)- christie is the main character in the hellraiser series (which is on the s4 st list). Carpenter is the surname of the director of 'the thing' name dropped in s3. (The flesh monster in s3 also resembles the thing) , and in s1 mr clarke watches it ,and mike has the thing movie poster in his basement.

Argyle (s4) - die hard 1-2 were on the s4 st list. And is a name of a diehard character.

Max- her name is 'mad max' like the 80s film. But since the Duffers like videogames. Her name may be a ref to max caufield from the ‘life is strange’ game as well. She has a 'never Maxine rule' similar to max in st. But the game character is similar to jonathan as she is a teen photographer and says similar words to jonathan in s1 saying she would rather watch people through a camera than interact with them.

Eddie munson (s4)- not going to lie. I have no proof of this but I immediately thought of the TV character Eddie Munster (the friendly monster ).

Possible comic book easteggs

The duffers are no stranger to comic book references. The duffers have already directly reffed xmen, wonderwoman, and green lantern. Kali's place also has a comic book ref to 'the invisibles' on the wall. While the s4 movie list mentions thor ragnock , age of ultron, and 2 batman films. Some of these refs will go over your head if you haven't read my DID theory. But a lot of this analysis will still be enjoyable. :)

Jane st ives (jane ives aka el). marvel. (jane st ives sees her dad k*ll her mom and vows revenge against him.Sort of similar to what brenner did to terry).

Stephanie harrington (Steve harrington)- 80s marvel comic. DP.7. Will DID ref. Antibody, is a medical resident who can project from his body a dark figure of himself (also called an "antibody", a word play on the medical term) that flies, can become intangible, and transfer its memories to another person by physical contact (mindflayer).  He later merges with the antibody. like how susie refs ‘wizard of earthsea’ -the novel where the young wizard Ged releases a shadow monster (said to be an ancient evil) but it turns out to be the dark aspects of his personality and the only way for the chaos to stop is to accept his darkness and merge as 1.

Barry bauman (Murray bauman) . marvel comics - Will did easteregg.Bauman lived in never ending darkness. He felt, that there was a realm outside the darkness and started to explore the entire content of his brain thus using now more than the usual 10 % .Also had telekinesis.He turned his attention to the stars in order to exact revenge on the human race which spends billions of dollars to kill each other, but wouldn't spend the mere million or so it would have cost to cure him. For his vengeance he transported the suns near our galaxy into his omnipotent brain. As the people of Earth would learn of the disappearing of the suns they would panic and feel Bauman's loneliness before he would destroy Earth.Despite the death of his physical body, Bauman's consciousness somehow survived and began hopping from body to body throughout the galaxy, his powers growing until the Star Thief was recognized as a major threat to galactic society.

Sinclair- last name of xmen rhaine.  Will Did ref. storyline Rahne Sinclair is mentally bonded to Havok against her will(Will/mf).She is subsequently manipulated by the Shadow King. Her bond with Havok causes her to act irrationally, sometimes threatening teammates, sometimes by flirting with them.  She undergoes more than one attempt to undo the bonding, with varying results. Her instability also manifests in many odd dreams, in which her identity is merged into pop culture figures. What’s funny is charlie heaton (jonathan byers) was just in an xmen movie with this Rhaine character.

Victor creel (s4)-sounds like mutant victor creed of the xmen comic. x men Mutant with ab*sive dad and poor socioeconomic background. He had a "birthday tradition" of ab*sing his young relatives on their birthdays. Which reminds me of Lonnie making jonathan cry for a week (because he forced him to k*ll a rabbit on his b-day). Not to mention Lonnie is prob coming back for Will’s b day in s4... so... the name is prob a ref to that ‘birthday tradition’. Could also be a stephen king reference -since Duffers love him. The Creel family was in sk’s book “pet cemetary’-which fun fact (the actress who plays El’s aunt is in the recent remake)!

Yuri (s4)-Yuri Topolov (Russian: Юрий Тополов) was a Soviet scientist and the first foe of the Hulk. 

Dimitri (s4)-Dmitri Bukharin was born in Kuibyshev, Russia (some sources say Moscow).  First appeared in Iron man.

Peter ballard ( s4 character) may just be a hellfire ref . since I guy with last name ballard was a double agent for the hellfire club (name of st s4 ep 1). And ballard means bald which the actor is certainly not lol. I don't think he's literally associated with hellfire but its just a ref. And because its implied in his st character summary despite working for the mental hospital-where brenner is most likely at- he's horrified by the treatment of the psych patients. So that may be where the double agent aspect would come into play.

Ian Hargrove (billy hargrove)- batman comics. had a history of mental health problems dating back to childhood, which his parents were unable to afford treatment for. His brother John hargrove tried to keep him out of trouble but Ian developed an uncanny talent for explosives (will the wise fire powers). He ends up at Archam asylum. Cough billy is Will's alter. Why he has the name billy (a nickname for William) . Jonathan in s2 mentions how he likes the writer vonnegut- who wrote slaughter house 5- the main character was Billy. Already mentioned how it connects to my did theory .

Jason carver (s4)- carver is the last name of the comic hero thunderbolt (in the flash)-the first name of thunderbolt is Will and his brother is named Lonnie. There was also a John carver in the comic.

Holland (barb's last name) last name of Swamp thing. I think its plot has quite a few s4/5 spoilers but Im not diving into it right now.

Names associated with religions or mythology 

(if you’ve read my DID theory- some themes will appear relevant in relation  WIll’s alters or to WIll’s past/tr*uma).

-‘Kali prasad".Kali  is the name of a Hindu goddess . Kali’s iconography and mythology commonly associate her with death,  violence, s*xuality, but also paradoxically -motherly love. In myths ‘she only k*lls demons’ and is described as  ‘overflowing with incomprehensible love for her children’ - (aka ST’s Kali k*lling people from hawkins lab for hurting kids). Her third eye stands for wisdom (like Will the wise).Kali is called at times ‘ the bright fire of truth’ (will the wise/fire powers).The devotee makes her image in his heart and under her influence burns away all limitations and ignorance in the cremation fires. This inner cremation fire in the heart is the gyanagni (fire of knowledge), which kali bestows (cough Will the wise-fire powers). The goddess also could create a darkcloud of lightning (similar to the mf). The phrase “brilliant as a dark cloud” is a snippet of one such prayer dedicated to Kali.The name Kali is derived from the Hindu word that means “time”. Kali receives her name because she devours ‘kala’ (Time)- like clocks ticking when El sees demogorgan/clock being wonky when Will see mf/clocks in s4 promos.’ After devouring time she resumes her own dark formlessness. “This transformative effect can be metaphorically illustrated in the West as a black hole in space” (cough mf cough hopper blackhole/time refs). Kali’s s2 butterfly-“Kali is the Hindu goddess associated with eternal energy. ... The cocoon, butterfly and the karmic golden wheel reflect Her deep connection with life.”And Prasād (her last name) is a material substance that is a religious offering to gods in  Hinduism .

-While, EL is the name of a Cannanite (male) god associated with “salt water “ (pool filled with salt in s1) who “dwelled in a tent” (in s1 Mike’s blanket fort) .And his gray-beard was described as " "full of wisdom.” él’  in Spanish means ‘he’- which could be a nod at her ( androgynous) presentation in s1. El can also be translated to "God" or 'god'. The el character has various mythologies depending on which culture/ religion is using the term 'el'. In the post-biblical period, "el" became a regular element in the names of angels such as "Gabri·el," "Micha·el," and "Azri·el," to denote their status as divine beings.And Jane translates to " Yahweh (god) is gracious/merciful". The cannanite god El was also dubbed “Compassionate God of Mercy.”  Earlier, a ninth century B.C.E. inscription  identifies Ēl- the name of the Babylonian water god Ea, lord of the watery subterranean abyss (cough watery  dark void in st). Terry (el’s mom-aka Teressa) was originally used in the Middle Ages for a “child baptized in holy water” (El in the sensory water tank/Terry used it too,according to Becky in s1). Eleanor (called this in s1)- can mean "sun ray" (possible the opposite of the ‘shadow monster’ or Kali who can represent a “black hole”). 

-Will-the s4 st movie lists (‘red dragon’, gods of monsters, & ‘blade runner’ ) mention the artist and writer William Blake  (specifically his painting of the angel michael fighting a dragon in revelations - reffed in st s1). He was one of many painters part of the exhibition of “ The World Turned Upside Down: Apocalyptic Imagery.”The World Turned Upside Down explores the myriad ways that artists in England visualized the apocalypse in a period fraught with political, religious, economic, and cultural change. 

During this period Blake was commissioned to create over a hundred paintings intended to illustrate books of the Bible along with revelations .  He also drew illustrations for the novel Dante’s inferno. Blake’s brutally satirizes oppressive authority in church and state.He said those who proclaim restrictive moral rules and oppressive laws as “goodness” are in themselves evil. Hence to counteract this repression, Blake announces that he is of the “Devil’s Party” (cough hellfire club ref-and dissing the satanic panic of the hellfire club and other marginilised groups) . He also says “men forgot that All deities reside in the human breast.” So Instead of looking for God on remote altars, Blake warns, man should look within.He produced a diverse and symbolically rich œuvre, which embraced the “imagination as “the body of God.” He wrote his own stories based on biblical writings- one includes the fire wielding character of Los (will the wise) who represented jesus. Los (like jesus does in revelations) causes the destruction of the world and the second judgment unfolds. The poem ends with Los’s unfallen state rising up and shepherding in science and removing the dark religions. I also talked about  how this story ‘book of los’ hints at the DID theory-but this is getting long-so you can just read the explanation here if interested. Also, hellooo Both names are William B(yers/lake). Billy (a alter of Will-sharing the name William) in s3 he even wore “lady of pillar” medallion- i.e about jesus/mary.

JOHN (supposedly Jesus’ blood relative- who wrote ‘revelations’.) In scripture John was called “the disciple whom Jesus loved as a brother” .Fire is the most typical element associated with the Saint John's Eve celebration (Jonathan did light the demogorgan on fire). Many scholars consider John & Jesus ("apocalyptic prophets"). Jonathan itself translates to " yahweh (god ) has given" in Hebrew.

Michael- Similar to kali, he’s a religious figure known for killing demons. He’s the arch-angel from the book of revelations (Apocalypse). A evil Beast (with seven heads usually translated to ‘satan’ or ‘dragon’) appears .“it was a 7″ causes Will to be attacked by the demogorgan ( which in d&d is a demon with multiple heads). The Archangel MICHAEL fought and defeated this 7 headed beast/satan. Corresponding with Mike at the end of s1 writing a fictional d&d story for Will (based off defeating the demogorgan) which was about helping kill a 7 HEADED MONSTER! Michael is also the archangel who oversees on Earth the natural element of fire (Mike telling Will the wise to use ‘fireball’ to defeat this same 7 headed monster in the game, at the end of s1)! Ironically though Jesus /Christian god is also associated with 7s a lot (he has 7 angels and during the apocalypse causes 7 plagues , he has 7 candles etc .)cause the number seven, represented ‘perfection’ according to ancient numerology . Will’s b day is March 22- (3) +2+2 =7 (“it was a 7”). Will’s bday even falls in what christians call “the holy week”( the week immediately preceding Easter.)  At the end of s1 they even defeat this 7 headed monster because Will rolls a 14 (which can be broken down into two 7s). Michael & William also have 7 letters in each of their names respectively- equating to this 14. This dragon biblical story (of Michael) is also William blake’s most popular painting. Also, random fact in revelations god has a rainbow throne (with thunder /lightning -will the wise powers- coming from the throne, and seven lit torches next to it ) . He also wears a rainbow halo. Lol. Michael also roughly translates to  ( 'Who like el?' The answer being roughly translated to ' no one like el' ... which i mean literally is saying there is no one similar to her. But I still think its a linguistic pun/ burn that Mike is not actually into El romantically).

Jim (James) hopper- According to the s3 script Hopper’s real name is James. JAMES (JIM) was an apostle to jesus- brother of john. And in the bible was called a ’son of thunder ’. Will’s powers/ hopper being an alter of Will's so technically brother of jonathan and thunder powers. Not to mention David on Instagram saying hopper has " he has risen. like bread" is a Jesus ref to 'he has risen"... even the bread ref could be a catholic ref to the last supper.

  Martin Brenner/marsha holland-  have their first name reference the roman god Mars who was originally a ‘thunder or storm deity’ (will the wise/mf powers). EL (in cannanite mythology) also allowed Baal the storm god to rule the entire earth.

ROBIN- was the God of Thunder’s- Thor’s- favorite bird. And Dustin also means ‘Thor’s stone.’The red belly robin is also an important bird in Christianity. Legend has it that the robin got its red belly from a fire in which it was trying to protect Jesus. Robin also name drops the greek god prometheus- the god of fire (will the wise) who brought human beings life and knowledge. And Steve looks at Robin and says "let there be light" a biblical passage. The robin represents selflessness for a higher truth. 

Barb- Saint BARBara- dad kept her locked away from the outside world (like el/brenner) . He tried to k*ll her when he learned she didn’t believe in his religion- so the dad was punished by “god” who electrocuted him with lightning/lit him on fire. (Will the wise powers).

Nancy- is derived from a medieval diminutive of Annis, an English form of Agnes.  There’s the christian saint Agnes- who was beautiful and from a wealthy family. She was the Christian saint of girls and v*rginity . And the duffers subverted this along with the problematic horror movie trope of the ' v*rgin female heroine surviving while her more se*ually liberated female friends are punished by the villain' ( by having her survive specifically because she decided to have s*x).Agnes was also led out and bound to a stake, but (allegedly) the bundle of wood would not burn, or the flames parted away from her (will the wise fire powers). Also people claimed that any man who tried to r*pe her was struck blind.

Hopper's wife’s name -Dianne- is also the roman goddess of ,nature, hunting and wild animals( and greek equivalent to Artemis) .Becky  means ‘snare’ -for hunting animals .Teressa (Terry) means ' huntress'.  The name was originally used in the Middle Ages for a child baptized in holy water . Name of 2 saints-Teresa of Avila and Therese of Lisieux. Lonnie’s gf (Cynthia) was originally an epithet of the Greek goddess Artemis, as well.

Power couple Angela & jake (s4) - Angela means 'messenger of God". And Jake (also means ”supplanter”) is derived from jacob. Jacob was the son of Isaac and Rebecca in genesis. El’s aunt,Becky (Rebecca) is wife of isaac.Other theories claim that Jacob is in fact derived from a hypothetical name like יַעֲקֹבְאֵל (Ya'aqov'el) meaning "may God protect".The name jacob is also where the names James/jim is derived from.

couple Steve spies on in s3- Anna Jacobi & Mark Lewinsky. Anna ( name of the mother of the Virgin Mary) Jacobi ("he who supplants"-aka same meaning as jim since both names are derived from jacob). Mark (”the god mars”-same meaning as martin brenner) .Lewinsky (lion-same name meaning as Lonnie). Also derived from the Hebrew root לוי‎ (leví, “priest”)

Joyce means "lord". Could also be a ref to the ('unofficial') saint Joyce who gave up wealth to live in poverty.

Ted-is the short form of the names Theodore and Edward. Theodore is a Greek name meaning "gift of God", Edward has an English origin and means "wealthy guard." Eddie (from s4) also means ‘wealthy guard”

Holly (nancy and Mike's sis)- Holly meanings are 'One who is pious' or 'sacred'

Karen- can be short for Katherine-one of the first christian saints.”Saint Katherine of the Wheel “(er). A 4th century martyr who suffered t*rture on a spiked wheel.  Wheeler does mean ‘occupational name for a maker of wheels’ after all. 

Gospel of LUKE (lucas?) , or simply Luke, tells of the origins, birth, ministry, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ.

Sinclair- Catholic saint of computers and TV screens (i mean... he is in the av club).

MAXimilian was deemed a saint in the 1980s- saint of journalists and radios. (Both aspects of s3)

Saint stephen/steven ( STEVE)-an early disciple and deacon . Considered one of the first m*rtyrs of the church.Stephen is first mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles as one of seven deacons appointed by the Apostles to distribute food (lol icecream) .According to Orthodox belief, he was the eldest and is therefore called “archdeacon”.

Sara- Her name is a feminine form of sar (Hebrew: שַׂר‎), meaning “chieftain” or “prince."  She was the wife and sister of Abraham (ew -given her being an alter of Will though, such a name doesn’t surprise me). Similar to st Barabara’s dad - Abraham tried to k*ll his son isaac in the name of god. Becky (El's aunt) - is derived from Rebecca - wife of Isaac.

Claudia (Dustin's mom)- Christian woman of Rome greeted by Paul in his second letter to Timothy (in the bible).

Sam mayfield (max's dad) -  Short for Samuel or Samantha, from the Biblical name Shemu'el, which means "God has heard", from the Hebrew shama, meaning "heard" and el, meaning "God". Samuel is rumored to be argyle first name.

Marsha Kelly (s4)- Kelly means "frequents churches" or " bright headed". Given she's a counselor the bright headed pun makes sense. But maybe she's not to be trusted if she frequents churches during a satanic panic arc which was fueled by Christian religious extremism . Or she's someone who contrasts the rest of the religious people in town since she's not originally from hawkins...who knows. x files’ main character was catholic but in one ep she criticized a small town for the satanic panic occurring-and says how accusing these kids who listen to rock as satanic or being k*llers is ludicrous.

Peter ballard (s4) - Peter was also the name of an apostle. 

Tina (side character s2)- like christy (s4) it’s short for Christina which translates to "follower of christ" or 'stream'. Tina was the gal who hosted the t halloween party and also the name of one of Erica’s friends in s3.

Samantha (goth girl jonathan talks to in s2 party) translates to "told by god".

Tommy (s1-2) "God's gift" or "twin".Thomas is the Greek variation of the Aramaic name Ta’oma’. It came about because there were too many apostles named Judas; Jesus renamed one Thomas—meaning "twin"—to distinguish him from Judas Iscariot and the Judas also known as Thaddeus.

carol (tommy’s gf)- Carol is the short form of Caroline and the meaning is derived from the English vocabulary word for “song” or “hymn". A hymn being a religious song or poem.

Benny ( who helped El at his dinner) - originally derived from latin bennedictus which means "blessed"

Stacey (s2-3 ) rejected dustin at dance. Stacey- "resurrection "

Grigori (the guy following and tracking hopper, Joyce, and alexi)- The name was adopted by early Christians heedful of the Biblical passage located in 1 Peter 5:8, “Be sober-minded; be watchful."grigory now means 'watchful and vigalent'

Alexi- prob based on the russian folklore story of alexy. A clever priest's son who tricks a dragon.

Harrington- similar to Robin's religious animal iconography. Harrington means 'he goat'.The most popular image of the Satanic goat dates back to the ever-mysterious Knights of Templar, who were accused of worshipping an idol known as Baphomet (a 1/2 human 1/2 goat man). Roman Catholic society decried it as a demon that demanded human sacrifice — but it would take a few more centuries before the goat became a truly occult symbol.Anton Lavey adopted Baphomet as the sigil of the Church of Satan in 1966, and it has appeared on countless metal album covers. But, Baphomet isn't the lone source of inspiration for our goat-like depictions of Satan.it's also believed that early Christians, seeking to demonize preexisting Pagan traditions, drew comparisons between the Devil and the Greek god Pan (god of nature), who happened to resemble a goat.Some cited how in revelations- during the apocalypse- Jesus separates the 'lambs from the goats'. ( supposedly Good vs bad)

Given the fact s3 alluded to the satanic panic. A Christian movement in the 80s that demonized and said d&d ,rock music, homosexuality, other religions, stephen King,horror films, wearing black,and non conservative ideology were 'satanic.' I wouldn't be surprised by this possible ref. Heck even William Blake criticized similar religious movements in his own time period. Several movies from the s4 list allude to this. The most obvious being the documentary paradise lost (named after the fictional retelling of satan/adam and eve story) - the documentary directly focuses on a witch hunt of rock loving teens (wrongfully accused of m*rders) in a small town during the satanic panic. Not to mention ironically s4 is hinted to be around easter. So Using such symbolism to address religious fundamentalism and the bigotry/hysteria it can cause isn't surprising. No i’m not lumping all religious people into this negative category- obviously.

Other Names with similar definitions

*Hunting /forests woods, nature, animals

Hunters and people in forrests

name meaning : becky - snare (a trap for catching birds or animals). Teressa-huntress. Dianne/Cynthia (Hopper’s ex wife/Lonnie’s gf) - is a roman/greek goddess of hunting and wild animals.  Rhadaghast- Will's password for cb is a lothr wizard who protects forests/wildlife.martin/marsha- previously god of agriculture/plants.As an agricultural guardian, he was believed to directed his energies toward creating conditions that allow crops to grow, which may include warding off hostile forces of nature (pumpkins rotting in s2). El in phoenician culture was called Elus and its Greek equivalent Cronus (god of agriculture) steve- he goat- associated with pan- god of fields, groves, wooded glens . brenner- ‘someone who cleared forests by burning’. the blond women, Brenner worked with,  Fraizer-  “of the forrest men”

* FUN FACT: Kali’s name originally was going to be ‘Roman’ (which is derived from Romulus-the son of Mars... aka Martin Brenner) .

Trees

Ives and owens- ives means 'yew wood' while Owen means 'yew tree. ' bauman- nickname for someone who lived near a tree.comes from the German word "baum," or "boum" in Middle High and Old German, meaning "tree’. Jennifer hayes- Jennifer  derived from Old English words "jenefer", "genefer" and "jinifer", all of which were variants of Juniper used to describe the juniper tree.Lonnie means "oak tree; or lion". Lion plushie in cb and the lion el has along with the tree establishes a connection between all 3 maybe? Oak groves were especially sacred to  the goddess dianna too. Buckley (it has many different translations) - Old English "boch ley" (with boch meaning beech tree and ley meaning wood, glade or clearing).

Nature

buckley if translated from "bok lee," means meadow, or field. mayfield- open country (field) where madder (mæddre) grows. Holland- wood land, Bruce (who was also possessed) - means WILLow lands . Keith (s2-3) : woods or forrest.Hargrove- meadow filled with rabbits (Jonathan’s hunting story).Holloway is a topographic surname, which was given to a person who resided near a physical feature such as a hill, stream, or type of tree. Tina means 'river' . Burness (guy who claimed he jumped into quarry)-stream. Neil- cloud. Lowe (Bruce's last name)-This surname is derived from a geographical locality 'at the low,' i.e. the hill. Hayes means "hedged area'.

Flowers

Flo (hopper's secretary)- means flower. Suzie-  lily flower. Susan (Max’s mom)- means lily, lotus flower or rose. Karen (in Japanese can mean)- flower, lotus, or water lily. Heather is also a variety of small shrubs with pink or white flowers which commonly grow in rocky areas.  Erica is a type of "heather" plant. martin/marsha: in the legend of Mars,his mother become pregnant with him using a magic flower- which was given to her by the goddess flora.

Bright (aka intelligent)

Bob- nickname of Robert . Both Bob and Robert mean 'bright, shinning or fame'. Aka smart -he's called ' Bob the brain ' for a reason.

Robin- is also diminutive of Robert . And we all know robin is smart too. Being multilingual/ cracking the code.Robin (like Robert) also means 'bright, shining , or fame.'

Lucas- means "bright" or "shinning" aka he's also a smart cookie. His firework plan saving the day.

Lonnie and Larry (the mayor) can both be nicknames for Lawrence which also means ' bright one' or 'shinning one'. Well... both are cunning I'll give them that. Lonnie is unfortunately ...smart. I think this detail had other foreshadowing. Joyce to Will about Will the wise ' if he's so wise why does he need the fireballs? can't he just outsmart the bad guys? " Will: " yeah. Usually. BUT sometimes the bad guys are smart too." I never understood why on earth Joyce would be with someone as awful as Lonnie in the first place- than be with his literal opposite Bob- but maybe she just found intelligence attractive?

Names associated with thunder/lightning/fire (Like Will/mf/Will the wise)

Byers-reprsents Greek Zeus (god of thunder/lightning). Martin - references the roman god Mars who was originally a ‘thunder or storm deity’ .ROBIN- was the German God of Thunder’s- Thor’s- favorite bird. And Dustin also means ‘Thor’s stone.’Jim- “son of thunder”. Christian god- has throne (surrounded by thunder /lightning). Kali- could summon thunder storms.Nancy/Barb-both saints associated with fire. Kali-is called at times ‘ the bright fire of truth’ /and bestows the fire of knowledge. Robin also name drops the greek god prometheus- the god of fire. Mars -the keeper of Rome's perpetual flame . The Robin bird in a Christian story myth protects Jesus from hell's fire. William Blake- wrote about a fire wielding character of Los who represented jesus. Jesus during end times wields fire. Michael is the archangel who oversees on Earth the natural element of fire. Fire is the most typical element associated with the Saint John's Eve celebration (Saint John- called Jesus’s brother).

Animals (and their symbolism)

Byers- means ‘ cattle shed’.The Greeks considered the bull animal totem to be a symbol of Zeus (god of thunder and lighting - will the wise powers). He is the head of the gods and the almighty ruler of Olympus.  I”n hinduism, Shiva is known as Gorakhnath, means the lord of the cows.  And is also known as, Pasupathinath, the lord of all animals (similar to Rhadaghast). According to some scholars, Shiva’s association with cows and bulls might date back to the Indus Valley period. Cows have a special significance in Hinduism, as aspects of Mother Goddess and as symbols of selfless service. Mahatma Gandhi declared the protection of cows a central feature of Hinduism.Hindus worship cows as the Mother Goddess and symbol of motherhood, kindness and forbearance.”

Tigers: (Sarah’s plushie/ Hawkin’s macott/ Will & Mike have tiger posters in their rooms): The goddess Kali & God Shiva wore a tiger skin (this fact was actually mentioned by Kali in the prequel novel ‘suspicious minds’ ).”In many tribal traditions of India, the tiger (or lion) is worshipped as a god. In some Hindu hymns the domestic fires are compared to the tigers that guard the house.Tigers also figure prominently in many Indian folk-tales, Jataka-stories, and the Panchatantra.”

Lions:(Lonnie means ‘lion’ and el and Will have matching lion plushies)- In the Bible, the lion has two opposite meanings: it is compared to the Devil (1 Pet 5:8) and to Christ (Rev 5:5). Aka: Lonnie is the devil. The kids are the opposite. Nancy also compares the demogorgan to a lion. “In many tribal traditions of India, the lion is worshipped as a god.One of the ten incarnations of Vishnu is Narasimha, who has the head and shoulders of a lion, but the torso of a human.Goddess Durga, a fierce form of Parvathi or Shakti, has a golden lion as her vehicle, while Rahu, a planetary guard, rides upon a black lion as his vehicle.Lions form an important part of Hindu religious art. The face of the lion (simha-mukha) is used in images and sculpture in many Hindu temples to decorate the doors, walls, arches, and windows.The memorial pillar at Saranath  contains four beautifully carved standing lions at the top on a round abacus representing the imperial power. They now constitute the official emblem of the government of India.”

El almost k*lling a cat- “Some superstitious beliefs are also associated with cats in Hinduism. For example, killing a cat is considered a grave sin, for which one may have to offer prayers and give in charity at least seven golden images of the killed cat. “

Harrington- he goat. Buckley- has various translations. Anglo-Saxon: ‘bucc and leah’ meaning goat and wood respectively. And obviously there’s the robin-bird. And I've already discussed their symbolism. Goat= baphomet/pan. 

Robin- thor's fav bird/ helped Jesus from hell's fire.

Buckley- can also translate to " field filled with deer" (like the deer attacked by the demogrogan or the bambi film jon reffed in relation to the hunting story about lonnie).And Karen ( when from it’s Hebrew origins) can mean- antler or horn. Also the caananite God el was usually depicted with animal horns on his head.Diana in Roman art usually is accompanied by a hound (demo dog) or deer.  Because of the story of her turning an attempted r*pist-hunter into a deer/ and then causing dogs to attack him.  Deer is also one of the symbolic animals accepted since early Christianity as an allegory of Jesus Christ and the Christian Disciple. And when associated with Shiva (kali's husband) in Hindu iconography, the deer omen denotes sovereignty over nature and symbolizes the lord of all animals, humans, and the King of the Forest. In many visual and written illustrations, human beings and deer appear as close companions and in some cases, humans adopt the face or antlers of a deer, in images more common in stories of human strife. Deer also have a supernatural significance and appear as apparitions of divinity and in legends of spiritual awakening.

Hargrove- meadow filled with rabbits (like the rabbit lonnie made jonathan k*ll.) Hopper sounds like thumper the rabbit- which jonathan mentions in relation to bunnies . And ... idk... Hopper did make that pun in s3 about bunnies to Larry (lawerence) ? We also have rabbit refs elsewhere like with- el in Benny's. They play the song 'white rabbit' a song referencing Alice in wonderland and in el's room at Terry's house is the white rabbit from that story. Also paralleling to jonathan- el was almost made to k*ll a cat by her father (Cheshire cat aka Alice in wonderland ref + cats are associated with magic powers/witch craft).In Celtic folklore, the rabbit is seen as a supernatural being from the Otherworld.The rabbit symbolism in Christianity has found its way through the Germanic deity Eostre from which the name Easter came to be (s4 will most likely have the Easter holliday).One tale describes the rabbit as the pet of Jesus Christ. And rabbits were often inserted into art of jesus' mother .

Creel- basket or container of fish.fish is taken as symbolizing Christ’s faith, charity, and abundance. A biblical story goes how Christ fed his disciples with 2 fishes and called them “fishers of men.”  The Christians made an acrostic from the Greek word for fish, “ichthys” as early as the first century and it is, “Iesous Christos Theou Yios Soter”, meaning Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.

Names hinting at character traits (which are very literal)

Mr clarke (science teacher)- clarke means 'scholar'

Dottie (in kali's gang)- she was in an insane asylum . And ‘Dotty’ is a very old British slang term  for 'crazy'

War (usually relates to ‘villains’)

Troy- means ' foot soldier'. Martin brenner: Martin means 'war like'. Lonnie is diminutive of Alonzo or Lawrence. Alonzo means 'ready for battle'.

In contrast to Lonnie, Will can mean "desiring peace. " Axel  who is part of Kali’s crew (who i think Will created along with others ) even means "father is peace."

Twin

Tom (Heather's dad) and Tommy mean ‘twin’. Robin's crush Tammy ('twin') Thompson ( 'son of tom’).

* Besides similar/identical name meanings.There’s also a lot of other repeated names that go into this whole twin/mirror imagery which i find strange... makes me wonder about @strangertheory ‘s version of the did theory. If not...maybe it’s just a allusion to the whole Will vs Will the wise arc (possibly) coming up?

Jennifer hayes (popular girl) & Jen (Mr clarke’s gf). Tina (highschool gal) & Tina- erica’s friend- Tina & christy are also nicknames of christina (s4 character). Susie (dustin’s gf) & susan (max’s mom). Sam (max’s dad) and Samantha (girl at party)/ samuel (possibly argyle). Billy Hargrove, Bill (dianne’s new huband),  and Will-all being nicknames for William. Robin & Bob-nicknames for Robert. Lonnie & Larry-nicknames for Lawerence. Ted  & Eddie being nicknames for Edward.James (Will’s bully), Jim Hopper (real name James), jacobi, and jason- all 4 are derived from jacob . Marsha Holland (barb’s mom) and marsha kelly (therapist s4)/martin relate to mars. Tom (reporter), tommy (highschooler), thompson (other highschooler).

it’s definitely peculiar to repeat names like this in a story. Unless it means ...something... I talked about how David was mentioning alot of doppelganger/twin imagery recently-here. So the name mirroring could just be an allusion to the Will/WW arc coming up ...possibly?

#will byers #mike wheeler #el hopper #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #jim hopper #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #murray bauman #robin buckley #byler #kali prasad #martin brenner #lonnie byers #stranger things #stranger things theory #billy hargrove

[troop-scoop]

Youth II

Chapter Two -  Common Interest

Word count: 2.9k

Series Summary: On a family trip to your dad’s home town of Hawkins, Indiana, you make a series of decisions that result in you ending up in the year 1983 with more questions than there are answers presently available.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader ( slow burn )

Chapter Summary: With the disappearance of Will Byers, you lend a helping hand to try an find the missing 12 year old boy. 

A/n: forgive me for posting a second chapter on the same day as the first. I just need to get this one out before I lose my mind. 

⟛⟛

You’d spent plenty of time staring off into space with your thoughts racing, you’d done it plenty at school, but this wasn’t right, it didn’t feel right and you hated it. Sure, you had plenty of odd experiences growing up, things you used to think were normal for other people, but apparently, they weren’t. And when you’d realized that, you kept them to yourself. But this wasn’t just something you were seeing, this was real, and you knew it, and everything else paled in comparison to this level of oddness.

Why was it always small towns? When you hear about missing people or cold cases that seem to throw police and detectives for a loop it always took place in small towns, quiet ones that people described as great to raise your kids in, places people settled down in to get away from the big cities.

When you’d been getting things together to leave for the day, you’d briefly heard about a missing kid, but hadn’t heard the name before you were slamming the motel door behind you to get to school, hopping down the walkway to the stairs trying to get your shoes on.

It wasn’t right, you would have known about this. Wouldn’t you? Sure, your dad never really talked much about his home town unless it was fond memories with his childhood friends, your uncles, but this was huge, something that should have at least been mentioned.

You had zoned out of the conversation happening next to you, ignoring every detail about the party Steve was throwing that night. You’d already declined on going to, much to both Steve and Carol’s disappointment. Carol mentioned how she was desperate to have another girl in their friend group, while Steve didn’t have much to say, just saying to come with him to find Nancy Wheeler.

“Oh, God, that’s depressing.”

Steve’s tone wasn’t what you would consider empathetic, it was rather that of someone who didn’t want to see what was happening.

Tommy, Barbara, Nancy, Steve, and Carol all looked to the subject of your staring, their eyes all landing on Jonathan Byers using a thumbtack to put a missing person flyer on the bulletin board near the front office.

“Should we say something?” Nancy questioned.

“I don’t think he speaks.”

“How much you want to bet he killed him?” At that, you turned your head and glared at Tommy, as Steve hit his chest a friendly yet serious “Shut up.” being said before you turned back to look at Jonathan.

Nancy walked towards him, leaving the rest of you to stand and wait. The only real thing you could think about was how when you were 11, you had been with your parents, uncle, aunt and cousins, helping your uncle and aunt pack things to move to a new house, and when you’d been left alone, you’d found a box full of old things and you’d dug through it, curiosity getting the best of you. You’d gotten to an old yearbook, labeled ‘1984-1985.’ and before you could ever flip through half of it, your uncle had snatched it away from you, and without saying a word, he’d grabbed the box and left the room.

“You alright?” Barabara asked you, reaching out to hold your shoulder, it brought the other three’s attention to you as well. You didn’t really know Barbara, but you knew she had good grades, and sometimes tutored students in the library after school.

“Yeah, peachy.” was your response, turning your attention back to the conversation Nancy was having with Jonathan, everything being said completely unknown to all of you with the distance.

The bell rang, and students began to frantically move, like cockroaches when you turned a light on. Scattering as quick as they could, but Barabara kept a hand on your shoulder, and in your peripheral vision you could make out her concerned look. Watching as Nancy came back over to the group of students Barbara took her hand off of your shoulder, everyone turning to walk down the hall once Nancy was there. But you were stalling, taking slow uneasy steps, barely keeping your eyes off of Jonathan, but when you knew that the group of students wouldn’t notice you weren’t with them, you turned back around, to see Jonathan heading for the doors.

“Jonathan!” You called out, jogging after him, seeing him stop just as he reached the metal and glass door. Catching up you placed your hands on your hips, trying to think of what to say. “Where we going?”

“What?” Jonathan questioned, brows furrowed as he looked at you, both his hands on the push bar of the door.

“Where we going? Wanna hear it French? Ou Allons nous?”

“We are not going anywhere. You have to go to. . .” Jonathan looked at the small notebook you held between two fingers, reading the angry red scribble on the front that said ‘Math’ “Mr. Swann’s?”

You breathed out through your nose, dropping your notebook. “Not anymore. Where are we going? This is about your brother, right? I wanna help.”

Jonathan sighed a bit, looking down at the linoleum floor before back up at you. “Why?”

“Common interest.” You told him.

“Our English project doesn’t have anything to do with-”

“This isn’t about Romeo and Juliet, moron. This is about your brother. Listen I just. . . everything about this, makes my stomach churn, I need to see him come back home alive. See? Common interest.”

Jonathan gave an absent-minded nod, the look on his face telling you he knew that feeling. “Indianapolis.” He told you, opening the door and barely stepping out, with you hot on his heels. But he stopped suddenly, turning back to you, holding a finger up. “But you stay out of it, Lonnie isn’t too friendly, and I've seen him angry. If I tell you to go back to the car, you go, understand?”

“You’re not my dad, if I see things start going south, I’m getting both of us out of there.” You told him. “Teamwork makes the dream work, now go before I stomp on your shoes, and there’s no guarantee that I won’t give you a flat tire on the way to the car.”

⟛⟛

Sitting in the passenger seat, you looked to the radio, eyes on the station number as the familiar intro to a song began on the radio. The first time you remembered hearing the song, you were four and had woken up from a nap to the smell of macaroni and cheese, and the sound of your newborn baby brother sneezing in his sleep in the crib on the other side of the room. The music was being played from the living room stereo, loudly. But one thing about being raised by your dads was that you had to adapt to loud music being played. Even Daniel had adapted to it at a few weeks old. You’d gotten out of bed and gotten to the living room, where the stereo was on, and your dad in the kitchen, putting some of the macaroni in one of your bowls and one of his own.

The last time you remembered listening to that song was when your cousins had convinced you to go with them into town, Torrey being the one with the idea, and with her speaker, playing a random playlist. You remembered that she skipped the song halfway through.

Torrey never had a good track record, that was for sure, she was always in trouble, much to your uncle Mike’s dismay. But you and James were always the more reasonable ones out of all of you. But Torrey was the oldest, and as a result, like the older sister, and everyone wanted to be like their cool older sister. So whatever she suggested the lot of you do, you did it.

That always resulted in trouble. The only one who could ever reason with all of you was Uncle Dustin, of course, it had to be the uncle who didn’t have kids. It annoyed Mike, Lucas, and your dad to no end that when with Torrey, they couldn’t get through to any of you.

But, Torrey wasn’t technically your oldest cousin. No, that was Rob. Your uncle’s oldest son. But he was a bit over a decade older than you, so you didn’t really know him all too well. Torrey was almost a decade older, just short two years.

“This the place?” you asked, looking past Jonathan trying to see through the foggy window, rain pouring down onto the pavement outside, and tapping gently on the windows and roof of the car. The fogged-up window told you it was cold out there, and warmer inside.

“Yeah. . .”

“Lonnie’s. . . Who is Lonnie, exactly?” You questioned, unbuckling the seatbelt as Jonathan did the same.

“Our dad,” Jonathan answered, opening his car door and getting out. You reached into the backseat, grabbing your coat as a sudden and startling cool gust of wind hit you, sending goosebumps up your neck and arms. Jumping a bit you looked to the door, seeing that Jonathan had gotten it for you. “Come on.” he rushed you.

You didn’t know if you wanted to go up to the house that the teenage boy was eyeing, you knew that if you’d never heard about Lonnie before, it was for a reason. Likely a good one.

Stepping out of the car, you pulled your jacket on just as Jonathan closed the passenger door for you, heading to the run-down home across the street. You followed shortly after, feeling your ankles begin to get wet as drops of rain-soaked through the canvas material of your shoes.

Standing under the overhang of the front porch you watched as Jonathan looked through the glass of the front door, music from either a television or stereo being hear from outside, over the rain. Jonathan knocked on the door. “Hello?” He shouted.

“Maybe he’s not home?”

Jonathan gave a bitter scoff as he continued to bang on the door insistently before you heard a woman’s voice yell out something indistinct. And before you could process it, the front door was opened.

“Can I help you?” She demanded.

“Yeah, is Lonnie around?” Jonathan asked, his body language giving off just as much attitude as her but his voice remaining calm.

“Yeah, he’s out back. What do you want?”

“To look around.” and with that, Jonathan stepped past her into the house, with you following right behind.

The living area had warm lighting from the lamps, with the absence of an overhead light. And the tv that was small by your standards had M.TV on. It was a mess, with things seemingly tossed around, it felt like the beginning of a hoarder’s home before it got worse and it was filmed for a stupid television show.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Hey!” The woman yelled after the two of you. You were hot on Jonathan’s heels, keeping in mind what he said about his father. You’d rather stick close.

“We’ll be fast, promise!” you told her.

“Hey, Will?” Jonathan questioned, going down the hallway, looking into doorways, calling out his younger brother’s name in a more urgent tone while you gave a longer look into each room.

Jonathan turned around from the last room, shaking his head and looking at you, going to walk back out of the hall. But just as he came to the end, a man slammed Jonathan against the wall, holding the collar of his sherpa jean jacket. You jumped back, just before Jonathan shoved who you were now assuming was Lonnie. “Get off!”

“Damn, you’ve gotten stronger.” The older man gave a shove to Jonathan’s shoulder, looking past the two males you saw the woman from the front door.

“Will someone please explain what the hell is going on?”

Lonnie looked at her, then back at Jonathan and then to you, before doing the opposite. “Jonathan, Cynthia. Cynthia this is Jonathan. My oldest. I don’t know who this little lady is.”

Lonnie shoved Jonathan’s shoulder again before pulling him into a hug. “Get off me, man.” Jonathan pushed him off.

The look on Lonnie’s face was that of pure cluelessness as if he didn’t understand why Jonathan would shove him away like that. But with how Jonathan had briefly spoken about him and how he had just acted, you knew the relationship wasn’t what you’d expect of a father and son.

Lonnie turned his gaze to you, “Who’s she?” He asked, looking to Jonathan again.

“A friend,” you responded. Sure, you and Jonathan weren’t all that close, but in this situation, you were sure he needed one, and even if you weren’t technically ‘friends’ he would know he had someone in his corner. “We’re looking for Will.”

“I already talked to the cops. He’s not here and he never has been.”

“Right, well, I think everyone gets a little nervous when they see and talk to cops, if Will’s here I doubt he would have come out when police were here.”

Lonnie looked as though he was trying to process what you had said. “If it makes you two feel better you can look around.”

“Hm, gladly,” you responded.

Jonathan and you spent a few moments in the rundown house, and once the rain had let up, Jonathan went outside, with you and Lonnie both trailing behind.

“Take a look at this beaut. Should’ve seen it when I got it. Took me a year, but it’s almost done.” Lonnie spoke about the car Jonathan was headed toward, opening the trunk once he reached the back. “Really? Do you want to check up my ass, too? I told you the same thing I told those cops, he’s not here and he never has been.”

“Then why didn’t you call Mom back?”

“I don’t know, I just. . . I assumed she forgot where he was. You know, he was lost or something. That boy was never very good at taking care of himself.”

“This isn’t some joke, all right? There are search parties, reporters. . .”

The way Lonnie was treating the situation made you uncomfortable. He didn’t care. It was clear he didn’t with the new information that Jonathan’s mother had called him, and he never answered or called back, how he lived a two-hour drive away and seemed to be talking about anything else but Will.

“Hopper’s not still chief, is he? Tell your mother she’s gotta get you out of that hellhole. Come out here to the city. People are more real here, you know? And then I could see you more.”

“If you wanted to see them more you wouldn’t have made the choice to live so far away.” You interrupted. You knew full well that had your parents ever split in an ugly way like it seemed Lonnie and Joyce had, neither of your fathers would move so far away that it felt like two different worlds. They’d stay close together so both you and your brother still had both of them. “Sounds like shitty parenting on your part, not her’s.”

Lonnie looked at you and tilted his head. “What? You think I don’t want to see my boys?”

“It’s kinda obvious that you don’t.” You responded, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Has Jonathan let you be around his mother? Because you sound just like her. Speaking of her, does she even know you’re here?” Lonnie turned back to Jonathan. You didn’t even know the answer to that, but Jonathan’s silence was an answer. “Great. So one kid goes missing, the other one runs wild? Some real fine parenting right there. Look, all I’m saying is, maybe I’m not the asshole, all right?”

Though Lonie couldn’t see it, you were glaring at him, but Jonathan could, and he gave you a look before reaching into his shoulder bag, pulling out a poster. A copy of the one he’d put up at school. “In case you forgot what he looks like,” Jonathan grumbled, shoving the poster into Lonnie’s chest as he walked away. Gesturing for you to follow.

The two of you walked around the house instead of through it, with small water droplets coming down once again as you crossed the street to the car.

“He’s a prick.” You mumbled as you passed Jonathan to get to the passenger side. Jonathan stared at you for a second.

“Y/n.”

You had grabbed onto the handle of the car door when he said your name, catching your attention. “Yeah?”

“Why do you care? You’re new in Hawkins, you’ve only been there for a few months, and you care about this more than people who have known me and Will since were kids. You’ve never even seen Will.”

You looked down at the pavement beneath you. The smell of rain invading your nose, calming you down just a bit. “Common interest.” You repeated what you had said before.

He didn’t look convinced with how his face seemed to harden and become far more serious. “Look,” You started, letting go of the handle resting your hands on the roof of the car. “Will’s alive, he has to be. I know he is. If I told you how I know, you’d call me crazy. I care about you, your brother and your mom. Lonnie? Not so much. . . Just. . . trust me, okay?”

Jonathan didn’t say anything or even do anything else in response. He opened the driver’s door and got in his seat, tossing his bag into the back as you did the same, buckling yourself in and looking out the window.

⟛⟛

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@stonersteve​ @ilovebucketbarnes​

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[clara-licht]

Just Out of Touch | Part Two

PART 2 OF 2

Summary: Midtown’s Academic Decathlon team managed to score a field trip to the one and only Stark Industries Headquarter located in Stark Tower, leaving behind a Peter Parker who was not allowed to join for “faking” documents regarding SI internship. In a strike of fortune (or unluckiness) for the team, they had Tony Stark’s own daughter to guide their tour. And she was not happy.

Join their trip through the industry with glimpses of a certain arachnid and a young Stark’s relationship!

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 10.4k

Warning: cursing

Note: thank you so much for your enthusiasm in this story! I really didn’t expect this to take off like it did! I hope you can enjoy this one, although I think this chapter might be a little confusing and rushed, especially the ending. As promised, I posted the badges’ designs used in this story yesterday, so check it out by clicking the link below if you’re interested.

Title Inspo: BTS & Zara Larsson - A Brand New Day

Part One | Badge Designs | Best of Me Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

——————————

Ned looked at MJ, confused. "What was that?"

"I'm not sure." MJ frowned. She glanced at Hecate's exhibition next to Spider-Man's.

Despite being acquainted to Spider-Man, the public knew little to nothing about the vigilante called Hecate. They just showed up out of nowhere one day, focusing mainly on kidnapping cases. Unlike Spider-Man, medias never really said anything incriminating against them, seeing as all they did was found kidnappers, beat them, and returned the children to police stations.

Police officers were wary due to their violent nature against the kidnappers. They always made sure the criminals were beaten half to death. Public supported them, saying kidnappers deserve it, so law enforcers couldn't really do anything.

Yet it seems that (y/n) had something against the hero.

Once everyone was gathered and Mr. Harrington finished his headcount, (y/n) led them back to the elevator, asking FRIDAY to take them to 25th floor.

(Y/n) blinked as something dawned on her, "Merda, I forgot to explain about the tower before the Museum." She clicked her tongue, irritated. "This is why we have interns to do tour!" She grumbled.

The students glanced at each other, confused and unsure about what to do. They didn't want to upset their guide (more than she already was anyway) by saying something they probably shouldn't.

The elevator dinged and they exited. Instead of a reception table like the Hall of Heroes, they were met with cubicles upon cubicles.

"An office?" Flash scoffed, "What are we going to see here? How to sell a phone?"

(Y/n) turned to look at him with a heated glare that made him flinched, "That's exactly what you're going to see. What, do you think an industry can survive only with R&D? Do you even know how real life works?" She snapped venomously, eyes glowing dangerously.

"I'm sorry for his attitude, Miss Stark." Mr. Harrington hurriedly intervened, pushing Flash behind him. "He's just a bit too excited to see the labs, you know, coming from a science school and all…"

Thankfully, a middle-aged woman came and interrupted before (y/n) could possibly curse Flash out. "Welcome to Stark Industries' Marketing Department!" She greeted them with a cheerful grin. "My name is Sarah Keynes and I'm Public Relations Officer! Midtown High School, right?"

"Yes, they're from Midtown. I assume the presentation is ready, Mrs. Keynes?"

"She was basically burning Flash not even a minute ago and now she's so professional-looking, that's awesome." Yasmin whispered to Jason.

Jason nodded and whispered back, "It's like earlier didn't happen at all."

(Y/n)'s back was straight, hands clasped in front of her, chin lifted just a bit, and her expression was mild. She made eye contact with Sarah and her eyes were calm. No one could tell she was livid just a moment ago.

Sarah smiled, "Indeed it is, Miss Stark! We know you will be punctual as you always are. If you would just follow me."

They followed Sarah to a meeting room of sorts on the floor where a small group of people, mostly wearing intern badges, were standing in front of the room. In the middle of the room was a big table surrounded by chairs, which they were asked to sit on. (Y/n) sat on the back of the room, leaning against the wall.

"Once again, welcome to Stark Industries' Marketing Department!" Sarah exclaimed.

"We have some of our team members who will join us in learning about our department here," she gestured at the group of people beside her who waved at the students, "and I promise we're all friendly here, so if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask! Let's begin now, shall we?"

One of them, a man in his early thirties with an employee badge, thanked Sarah before opening their presentation.

"Hey guys, my name is Roberto Salvatore, Advertising Manager. Let's start with…"

(Y/n) tuned out once Roberto started the PowerPoint slides. She already knew everything about their Marketing Department, Pepper made sure of it.

——————————

"This is so boring." (Y/n) lamented as she slouched on the table, a tall stack of paper sitting in front of her innocently.

Peter, who was doing his homework, looked at the dejected figure beside him. "Can't help it, you're going to take over the company one day, after all."

"But why do I have to read all of this now?" She pouted. "Why would I need to know every single detail about marketing! I bet dad didn't even know any of this when he was CEO."

"To be fair, he did admit he was a shitty CEO."

(Y/n) grumbled, "Not helping."

Peter let out a laugh and gently ruffled (y/n)'s hair, (y/n) halfheartedly swatting his hand away.

"Hey, Pete."

"Hm?"

She turned her head, now her cheek was pressing against the table and she could look at him directly. "If I don't want to take over SI, will you?"

He tilted his head slightly and looked back into her eyes. "It's called Stark Industries, (y/n). It belongs to Starks."

"I'm dad's only child, as far as we know. Maybe in the future I'll have a younger sibling, but if I don't or we don't want to, who will take over then?" She wondered. "And I know I won't be able to manage the whole company alone. I'm not like Pepper. She always said I'm so much like dad, and you know how he is."

Peter dropped his pen in favor of holding (y/n)'s hand and squeezing it.

"You know Mr. Stark won't force you if you don't want to."

(Y/n) gave a non-committal hum.

"And you know I'll always have your back."

(Y/n) gave another hum.

"So if you ever need help, I'm always available."

(Y/n) suddenly sat up and stared at him with wide eyes. "Wait, you said that Stark Industries belong to Starks only, didn't you?"

"…Yeah?"

She grinned mischievously. "If you marry me, you can take my last name and be a Stark so you can take the company too!"

"WHAT IS THIS ABOUT MARRIAGE?" Tony's loud voice boomed, saving the now red and speechless Peter from having to form any sort of reply.

"PORCO CANE! YOU'RE STILL CHILDREN AND WHO SAID I'M EVER ALLOWING YOU TO MARRY-"

——————————

(Y/n) spent the time working on her newest project schematics through her phone, sometimes looking up when a discussion topic seems interesting. Despite Flash's remark earlier, the group was actually interested in and was invested through the presentation, throwing questions related to the topic here and there. The marketing team had prepared some quizzes related to the presentation and answering students now had a gift bag with them.

"That's a wrap, guys! Let's give an applause for our marketing team!" Sarah clapped her hands, prompting the others to follow.

Realizing the presentation was over, (y/n) glanced at the clock on her phone before putting it away and moved to the front of the room.

"We still have some time before lunch, so I might as well tell you things about the tower I forgot to earlier. Is it okay if we use the room for a bit, Mrs. Keynes?"

"Of course!"

"Thank you."

As the marketing team left the room, (y/n) turned on the projection and put in her credentials. Anyone could access their account from anywhere in the building as long as a capable device was available. This was for the sake of convenience.

(Y/n) found the file she was looking for and accessed it. A hologram of the tower sprung out in the middle of the table, making the group awed.

"You are currently in Stark Industries Headquarter here in Stark Tower. This tower was previously named Avengers Tower, but after the team's fall out, dad sold it. There were complications-" She stopped, frowning.

"Didn't the Vulture's daughter go to your school?"

Some of them squirmed uncomfortably on their chairs.

"Liz was our senior before she moved to Oregon." Betty answered softly. Memories of Liz still hurt her sometimes. She was good friends with her, after all.

Of course, (y/n) actually already knew this.

——————————

"Pete, hey, look at me. Come on."

Grunting, he slowly opened his eyes despite his pounding head that screamed at him to just pass the hell out. He squinted; the soft light emitting from the park's lighting was somehow blinding to him. He didn't notice that it was drizzling until a few drops slid down from his eyebrows.

"(Y/n)…?"

(Y/n) smiled at him. "Hey. Let's get you out of here, okay?" She spoke softly, careful of his senses.

Her words made him realize where he was. "How did you find me?" He asked, voice raspy.

"That's for later. Come on, can you climb down?"

Without replying, Peter gently held (y/n) close to him and jumped down. (Y/n) didn't let out any sound, as if she already guessed Peter was going to do that.

She led him to a car she stole from her dad and strapped him in before reaching for a towel and a soft blanket on the backseat. She gave him the blanket and used the towel to rubbed his hair slowly.

Peter was quiet as he let her dry him. He wasn't drenched; the sky was kind enough not to give a storm and gently pour some droplets instead. Still, he was thankful for the blanket warming him.

Once satisfied with her work, (y/n) threw the towel back to the backseat, went into the driver's seat, and drove away.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Peter looked out the window, sighing heavily. His whole body ached. The pounding in his head hadn't gone away. He was almost 100% sure that he had a concussion.

"Aren't you supposed to be in homecoming right now?" (Y/n) asked again, stealing glances at him while trying to still focus on the road.

For a moment, Peter didn't reply. (Y/n) didn't pester him and kept driving in silence.

"He's her dad."

"Hm?"

"The Vulture. He's Liz's dad."

(Y/n) glanced at him. He looked dead tired. And hurt.

"Liz? The girl you have a crush on?"

Peter nodded slightly. "He hijacked Mr. Stark's moving plane. I had to stop him."

"And you did."

"Yeah, I did…" He trailed off. "But why don't I feel good about it?"

Nobody said anything.

——————————

"Yeah, anyways, he tried to steal our moving cargo and Spider-Man stopped him. Dad then realized it was more of a hassle to leave this tower since it's powered by the arc reactor."

The hologram zoomed at the bottom of the tower, showing the huge arc reactor beneath.

"People would actually kill for its blueprints, you know?" She shook her head. "So he bought this tower back and made it the headquarter for SI. This tower has 100 floors, because dad likes the even number, and top 5 floors are private residential area and private labs."

The group started murmuring amongst themselves. Private residential area?

"When I said residential, I mean it. We live here when we're not out of the city, it's convenient. Of course, dad still has several other houses, but personally, I like this tower the best."

Because it's closer to Peter, she thought.

Besides the arc reactor, one of the reasons Tony had bought the tower back was for Peter. He realized that he couldn't stop the kid from being Spider-Man, with or without the suit. Helping keeping him safe was the least he could do, and if having Stark Tower means easier for Peter to reach when he needed something, then Stark Tower shall remain.

It had nothing to do with (y/n) blowing up at him for taking Peter's protection (the suit, not something else, you dirty minded) and asking (forcing) him to be more active in their mentorship.

Nothing at all.

(Besides, Tony had also developed a soft spot for Peter. He looked at the boy and saw a much better version of himself.)

"The floors are divided into the departments; Marketing, Human Resource Management, Accounting and Finance, Legal, and Research and Development. Other departments like Production and Purchasing are on other branches of SI. Most branches have R&D labs because dad, as I quote, will go crazy if he doesn't have any lab to mess around after a shareholders meeting." She rolled her eyes.

(Y/n) swiped away at the hologram, effectively shutting it down. "Okay, that's it. Now let's go get lunch."

——————————

The cafeteria was bustling. (Y/n) told them they had $40 inside their badge and they could buy any food they wanted from the cafeteria simply by swiping their badge to pay.

"Gather in front of the elevator at 1.30 PM on the dot. Now go eat."

As the group dispersed, she headed back to the elevator and asked FRIDAY to take her to the top floor.

A voice called out her name when she stepped out from the elevator.

"(Y/n)!"

For the first time that day, (y/n) let her lips curved up to a genuinely pleased smile.

Peter was sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, a messy sandwich in his hands and soot on his cheek. His clothes were clean, although his hair was dirty with dust and she could smell something burnt. He must had changed his clothes. It wasn't hard to figure out what he had been up to as he did tell her he was messing up with DUST earlier.

Something must had blown up.

"What did you explode today, Mr. Scientist?" She asked playfully.

"Nothing!"

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, still smiling.

"…I connected wrong wires when trying to fix DUST's heat sensor."

Chuckling, she shook her head amusedly and made her way to the sofa. Peter handed him a wrapped sandwich after she sat down which she accepted gladly.

"How's your presentation going?" Peter asked between bites.

(Y/n) peeled the sandwich wrapping away, showing the gorgeous rib sandwich practically dripping with warm barbecue sauce. The smell was heavenly.

She took a big bite, moaning quietly as the flavor burst on her tongue.

"I love ribs." She mumbled, still chewing.

After she swallowed, she heaved a sigh. "Presentation was boring. I still have some to do after this, but really, it just feels like a waste of time."

Peter hummed thoughtfully. "What is it about anyway?"

(Y/n), already prepared to answered any questions that he might shoot her, answered easily with a lie, "That upcoming high school internship program dad came up with."

Peter stopped chewing. "That's real?" He asked, frowning.

"Of course it's real!"

"I thought it was just a joke or something to cover my alibi…"

(Y/n) stopped chewing as well and put down her sandwich. "You know, I'm not supposed to tell you this yet," she started slowly, "but dad is planning on making you the head of internship program."

If (y/n) hadn't anticipated it and held a hand in front of Peter, his sandwich would've flown away with how hard he practically jumped out of his seat.

"WHAT?!"

"You're his first of his only two personal interns, who also happen to be the only two interns of SI still in high school. He said it's an obvious choice, to make sure the upcoming high school interns will be more comfortable." She explained, putting Peter's sandwich on the table in front of them. "Pepper agrees with him, so there's that."

Peter's eyes were wide.

"No, no, that's an awful decision!" He stammered. "I'm not leader material! I barely even know what I'm doing! I-I'll mess it up!"

"Pete-"

"You saw me! I blew DUST up because I connected wrong wires! That's such a newbie mistake! And what about Spider-Man? I barely have enough time now, I'll neglect my responsibilities!"

"Hey-"

"And my school! Nobody believe I'm an intern in the first place, but head of program?! Principal Morita will have my head for lying extensively! They already disregard my internship papers anyway-"

(Y/n) pulled Peter down to sit back on the sofa and gently grasp his chin.

"Hey, look at me."

He did.

"Remember what you told me when I said I can't take care of SI alone?"

Peter didn't answer, but his eyes that looked back at (y/n)'s had calmed down slightly.

"I'll always have your back. So if you ever need help, I'm always available." (Y/n) smiled at him. "You don't have to worry about messing up, Pete. You're not doing it alone. Harley will take the position with you and I'll always help if you need me."

Peter sagged on the sofa, crossing his arms. "Still…"

"Also," (y/n) scowled, "this time I'll make sure they believe you, so now worries for that one."

"What do you mean?"

(Y/n) only smirked at him, offering no explanation. "Finish your sandwich, Spidey. I have to go downstairs soon."

Slightly grumbling, Peter reached for his sandwich. "Oh, where's Harley, by the way? I haven't seen him today." He asked before biting into his sandwich again.

"I think he said he wanted to mess around in R&D today."

"Maybe I should visit him later."

——————————

When (y/n) went back downstairs after leaving a pouty Peter with a peck on his cheek, she was greeted with the sight of Ned massaging his shoulder with a grimace amongst his friends. She was actually familiar with Ned and MJ's faces, having seen their pictures whenever Peter told her about his school day. Keeping her dad's words about formality in mind, she didn't show her familiarity at all.

Although now Ned was acting weird. She knew that gesture meant he hurt his shoulder, but what happened during the short time she wasn't there to supervise?

"Mr. Harrington," she called the startled teacher, "is everyone accounted for?"

"Y-Yes, Miss Stark. We're all here and ready to continue."

"Anyone needs bathroom breaks before we leave?"

Several of them lifted their hands.

(Y/n) looked around before catching an intern's eyes.

"Hey! Uh, Miss Macready!"

The intern looked surprised like a deer caught in headlights. Maybe she didn't expect to be called out by her name by the company owner's daughter that day.

She approached (y/n) hesitantly. "Yes, Miss Stark?"

(Y/n) was pleased when she saw her intern badge and found out that she knew the intern's name. She remembered seeing her around when she was in Finance Department.

"Can you show these students to the closest bathroom? I need to address something right now."

"Right away, Miss Stark."

The Finance Department intern, Mindy Macready, beckoned the students to follow her, leaving (y/n) and a handful of the leftover students in front of the elevator. Mr. Harrington had gone with the rest.

Seeing the students were occupied with talking between themselves, (y/n) moved closer to Ned who was still massaging his shoulder and talking with MJ in hushed voices.

"Mr. Leeds."

Ned turned around quickly, expression not unlike Mindy when (y/n) called her earlier.

"(Y/n) Stark knows my name…" He muttered in disbelief.

Ignoring his mumbling, (y/n) asked, "What happened to your shoulder?"

He hadn't even gotten over his surprise of (y/n) knowing his name, but now she noticed his pain?

Ned could only gape, leaving MJ to respond, "A kid in our class is a jerk."

(Y/n) narrowed her eyes in displeasure. "And does this kid called himself Flash?" She sneered.

At this point, MJ wasn't surprised that (y/n) had known about Flash. She deduced that Peter must have told her a lot more than just Flash anyway, so she only nodded curtly.

"You don't have to tell me what happened, I'll find out later. Thank you, Miss Jones."

(Y/n) took them to visit Legal Department where the Director, a surprisingly young man on his late 20s or early 30s named Isaac Latimer-Reed, talked to them briefly about what his department deal with. SI's Legal Department didn't only handle cases related to their products and company name; SI had included legal aid in each of their employee's contract. Tony had put some of his best lawyers to work in the company instead of just for himself. Shall an employee ever find themselves in a situation where they needed legal aid but couldn't afford it, SI had their backs.

"So if someone is in a fight with her husband or something, you can help them, I don't know, divorce him?" Flash asked with a frown. Why something so trivial? He had thought. "Isn't that against privacy?"

"It's not something that simple." Isaac said. "What if that fight results in violence? What if one of them had lifted a hand against the others? Our employees are free to talk to us and give us enough reason to make a case. We had freed quite a number of our employees from their abusive family simply after they just told us what happened."

Isaac smirked, "They didn't stand a chance against us. No matter how hard you try to hide a rotten core, the smell will always escape."

His dark expression made the students gulped and stepped back a bit.

(Y/n), on the other hand, smirked alongside Isaac.

She had always liked the man. He was quite a shrewd man who wouldn't stop pursuing "justice". That was how he got to such a high position despite his young age. Tony knew he needed someone sharp who could be ruthless in his Legal Department, and Isaac was the perfect candidate.

"We are against violence here in SI." (Y/n) said out loud, gaining their attention, "Any kind of abuse or bullying is not tolerated. Whether it's verbal or physical, direct or implied, we do not accept such behavior." She glanced at Flash who definitely had a sweat rolling down the side of his neck.

After some Q&A session, (y/n) thanked Isaac for his time and led the group away.

"Miss Stark?" Zoha called out. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but can we get some water before proceeding, please?" She asked, Yasmin nodding beside her.

"Follow me."

They stopped by the closest kitchenette. As she promised, it was fully stocked. For a small kitchen in an office, it was quite bizarre to see baskets of chocolates, cookies, and snacks beside plates of fruits and nuts. A coffee and tea station on the side of a big fridge and a juicer and blender beside it didn't seem quite… right either.

"You can eat and drink whatever you want but finish it here. We're heading to the labs after this."

She let them snacked around in the kitchenette for less than 10 minutes before whisking them away.

"We have a lot of R&D labs." (Y/n) explained, "In this tower alone, R&D span from 61st Floor to 80th. Each department usually have 10 floors max, but since dad is biased, R&D got more attention."

"Excuse me, Miss Stark?" Charles called. (Y/n) looked at him, waiting. "What does R&D interns do? Are they classified to do experiments by themselves?"

"Not really." She answered. "Level 1 interns mostly make reports and do research with or for their supervisor. Sometimes they'll get to help with the fun part, but that's for level 2 interns, usually."

"And level 2 interns?"

"Product testing, chemical experiments, engineering trials, they're allowed to do them all under supervision or with their supervisor's permission. Level 3 interns don't need supervision, but they still have to report."

The elevator dinged.

"Come on."

The floor they were at was spacious. Unlike the offices with their rooms and sections, the lab was mostly just open space with tables and cabinets. On the far end of the room was glass doors leading to testing rooms, while on the other end was a white door leading to the floor's supervisors.

"Welcome to Medic Lab!" A man in his 40s greeted them with a smile. He was tall and lanky with dark hair and equally dark eyes with laugh lines around them.

"This is Dr. Henry Clark, this lab's Assistant Director. He'll be Director soon though." (Y/n) introduced. "Dr. Clark, Midtown Science and Tech."

Henry blinked in surprise. "Midtown? Isn't that-"

"Yeah, it is." (Y/n) cut him off.

"Is he here?"

(Y/n) shook her head, "No, he's upstairs. He's going to T04E later, I think."

"Bring him here sometimes, will you? We're extremely grateful that you're here a lot, but we need both your brains sometimes too, you know!" He laughed. (Y/n) only smiled at the man.

Being very interested in the health department, (y/n) spent a long time in this particular lab. Unlike Peter who was more into engineering, although he did help out in various labs sometimes.

"Who are they talking about?" Abe whispered.

Henry turned to the confused students, "As Miss Stark said, my name is Henry Clark and this is Medic Lab 01. We focus on the medic field in this lab, especially on the chem side. Medicines, to put it simply."

He brought them further inside, passing through several scientists having heated discussion over a white board filled with numbers and equations.

"While focusing on pure chemistry, we also work closely with the lab above us which focus on chemical engineering. Sometimes with H03BE too, but they're more likely to work with people from Tech Labs instead of us." He stopped in front of a table filled with equipment and solutions where 2 interns were waiting for them.

"What is H03BE?" Ned asked.

"Oh, sorry, that's the code for labs!" Henry apologized. "That one is also medic lab, but for biomedical engineering."

"How about this lab?"

"What does the code stand for?"

"This lab is H01C, because this is the first lab in 'health' department and we play with chemicals. Only scientists and interns in R&D use them though, since it's more just to make reports easier to categorize."

"Officially, this is just Medic-1." (Y/n) added.

They gathered around the table. "Currently, we're trying to find a breakthrough in our Alzheimer's disease cure and how to deal with autoimmune issues. We almost got it, really." Henry continued.

"I'm still most excited for the cancer research though." An intern with fire red hair said with a grin.

"We're going to a little fun test with you guys to see your potential! Maybe you're good enough to be an intern here and might get scouted!" Another intern with cropped black hair exclaimed.

"What do you mean by scouted?" Cindy asked.

(Y/n) spoke before Henry or the interns answered, "I will explain that later, it's part of this trip program."

When (y/n) had told Peter she had presentation for the internship program, it wasn't exactly a full-on lie. SI planned on scouting students from field trips and it just so happened that the owner's daughter was guiding one. She was supposed to explain it on the last session.

The group looked at each other with grins. A chance to be an intern in SI? Hell yes!

"You're the boss, Stark." Henry grinned. "Let's begin, shall we?"

It was a simple enough test. They were given written reactions such as (2C12H22CaO14 + O2 → 22H2O + 21C + 2CaO + 3CO2) and they had to figure out which chemical solution it applied to and conduct it. Being from STEM school, most of them could figure their reaction out, although some who clearly didn't pay attention in chem class struggled. Finding out which solution was easy, but how to make it react?

Ned grinned as grey snake-like foam rose from his heated calcium gluconate. So far, he was the fastest guy to successfully figure out his reaction, only being beaten by Zoha.

"You're fast!" Henry said as he looked at Ned's petri dish. "Can you explain what you did?"

"Yeah, it's simple." Ned answered. "C12H22CaO14 is formula for calcium gluconate, and it reacts with O2; oxygen. But calcium gluconate doesn't just automatically react with oxygen. It was completely fine touching air before we started, so I heated it up and it reacted."

"Very good." Henry complimented with a smile. "Now do you know why it becomes like this?"

"The molecular structure expands due to the heat. This grey foam formed because any water contained inside vaporized and hydroxyl groups within the compound were dehydrated."

"And in conclusion?"

"Calcium gluconate rapidly decomposes after being heated."

"Great job!" Henry complimented again. Ned thanked him happily before Henry moved on to MJ who created a bright blue flash and loud sound that sounded like woofing, shocking Jason beside her.

MJ grumbled under her breath, "Out of all things, they just have to give me nitrogen monoxide and carbon disulfide to burn."

As Ned took pictures of his grey foam (after Henry said he could, of course), (y/n) stood beside him and peered at the petri dish.

"That was quick. I thought you're more into coding."

Thankfully, this time Ned could hold his surprise and just grinned at the girl. "Chemistry is fun when it's actually conducted and not just lectured on. How do you know I like coding?"

"Peter told me about you and Miss Jones." (Y/n) answered simply.

"You can just call me Ned and her Michelle, you know." Ned said. "A friend of Peter's is a friend of ours too. He talked about you a lot."

(Y/n) flushed a bit, "He did?"

"Yeah! It's as though we know you already!" He chuckled.

She silently glanced at the grinning boy.

Maybe I should try to make more friends…

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Flash frowning at his paper while grabbing cesium and-

Is that water? Wait-

Before Flash could drop the alkali metal into a flask of water, (y/n) quickly reached her hand out.

CLINK!

A loud clink sound echoed as water dripped down from the table to the floor, stopping Flash from dropping the cesium.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" (Y/n) yelled.

Everyone in the room halted.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF YOU PUT THAT IN WATER?!" She yelled again, eyes glowing with anger.

"Uh, I…" Flash mumbled out. His eyes moved quickly from (y/n)'s furious face to the small petri dish with cesium in his hand.

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT'S IN YOUR HAND RIGHT NOW?! HUH?!"

"It's, uh, it's iron salt…?"

(Y/n)'s face grew even redder as she tried to held back her anger.

Henry approached them and gently took the petri dish away from Flash who was shaking with fear. "This is cesium, young boy. It reacts violently with water. If you had combined the two, that glass flask would explode and hurt you." He explained.

(Y/n) snatched the paper containing the reaction assigned to Flash and scoffed, "You were supposed to form valence oxide and took cesium? Cazzo! Do you pay attention in class?! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO MIX FERROUS AND FERRIC IN BASIC SOLUTION! DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW IRON SALT IS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE?!"

Trying to calm the girl down, Henry patted her shoulder, "Calm down, Stark. This is also my fault for including cesium on the table. Everyone is okay, that's the important thing."

"But what if I didn't notice what he held, Dr. Clark? What then? His parents may have signed the papers allowing him here and swearing not to blame us for accidents, but you and I know those papers mean little to parents whose children are hurt!"

(Y/n) snapped her eyes back to Flash, "You're from STEM school, for fuck's sake! And you're in this decathlon team! You're supposed to be smart," she emphasized, "yet you can't do this simple experiment?!"

Flash, clearly offended, snapped back, "It's not my fault that you put unsafe things here! What kind of work environment is this?! You just put danger on my life and I can sue you for this!"

"Flash!" Mr. Harrington tried to scold, but (y/n) had grown even angrier.

"VAFFANCULO!" She shouted angrily as she took a step closer to him, the anger in her eyes looked so close to snapping.

And maybe she would have done something to Flash if the lab's sliding door didn't suddenly open and Harley hurriedly rushed in and held (y/n)'s arm back.

"Whoa there, calm down, Princess Stark." Harley soothed, "FRIDAY told me there was almost an incident and I heard you screaming your favorite Italian word, so what happened?"

"Why don't you ask this figlio di puttana?!" (Y/n) gritted out, although the glow in her eyes had started to settle.

Mr. Harrington quickly grabbed Flash who was just opening his mouth to retort back and put him behind his back with a quick glare, warning him not to say anything stupid.

"I apologize, Miss Stark, I truly do, please forgive him! I'll make sure he won't do anything stupid anymore!" He bowed his head.

Knowing (y/n) was still too pissed off to say something intellectual, Harley answered, "I'm sure it can be forgotten. It's okay. Can someone tell me what happened, though? I might have to report this upstairs later…"

Henry sighed, "The young man almost put cesium in water, but (y/n) stopped him."

Harley nodded, "Okay, and?"

"What do you mean, 'and'?"

The sandy-haired teen snorted, "There's no way (y/n) would just tell this guy to go fuck himself if she stopped him in time."

"Flash mouthed back, saying he would sue SI or something." MJ interrupted.

Realization dawned on Harley and he nodded again. "Yeah, that sure can pissed Princess Stark off."

When he turned his glance on (y/n), her face had lost almost all of its redness and her eyes were no longer glowing, but he could still see repressed anger in them.

"Do you want me to take over?" He asked gently. "Peter is in T04E, do you want to go there instead?" He asked again, murmuring softly.

(Y/n) heaved a heavy sigh and rest her forehead on Harley's shoulder. "It's fine, I can continue." She mumbled. "We're scheduled to go to T04E after this anyway."

"Alright, alright." Harley patted her head. "Want me to come with you?"

Feeling her nodded against his shoulder, Harley cleared his throat. "Alright then, let's forget about what happened here and move on, shall we? Dr. Clark?"

"Ah, yes," the good man stepped closer to them and clasped his hand, "that's all for today, everyone. Good job on your work! I hope I'll see you again, maybe as an intern or even an employee here someday."

The group hesitantly chorused a thank you before Mr. Harrington hurriedly ushered them out from the lab to follow Harley and (y/n) and before long, they were back in the elevator again.

"Okay guys, we're heading to Tech Lab now!" Harley said cheerfully. "It's one of my favorites, if I'm being honest! This particular one, especially."

"Why? What's in the lab?"

"He's just allowed to make things explode. Can't do that in medic-researching labs." (Y/n) said shortly.

Harley just grinned at her.

The elevator opened.

"Welcome to Tech-04, guys!"

Unlike Medic-01, Tech-04 was more… chaotic.

Medic-01 was relatively quiet, maybe some discussion here and there with liquid upon liquid sloshing around. Sometimes small pops when wrong solutions were mixed. Tech-04, on the other hand, was filled with a lot of noise.

Someone was groaning and then grumbling at a circuit board in front of them, a solder whirring (should it even whir?) on their hand.

Two people were arguing loudly over hologram displaying blueprints.

Another person was hitting a small bot with what looked like a small hammer, making loud clanging sound every hit.

Some tools were accidentally dropped, the metal hitting floor sound followed by a loud 'sorry!'.

Heavy machines made weird noises that sound so unfamiliar to a high schooler's ears.

Harley and (y/n) walked in, unbothered by all the noises around them. The group flinched at sudden noises, but they followed the two silently.

"Usually we take tour groups to Tech-01, but they're doing something classified right now." Harley explained. "Since you guys are from STEM school, we thought Tech-04 is the best place to visit since every cool stuff happens here." He grinned.

"Holy shit are those arrows?!" Tyler screeched out.

"Those were supposed to be Hawkeye's prototype multifunction arrows, but after the Accord debacle, Tony dumped them."

"What's that?" Cindy pointed at black bracelets on a display. "It looks like normal bracelets…"

"Black Widow's widow bites." (Y/n) answered.

Cindy tilted her head, "Bites?"

"Electroshock weapon."

"W-Weapon?"

"You just saw Hawkeye's weapon, what makes Black Widow's surprise you?" (Y/n) scoffed, still feeling irritated from before.

"W-Well…"

"Tech-04 is the best lab because a lot of Avengers weapons were designed here!" Harley exclaimed. "Almost all of them had something that came out from this lab sans Tony because he doesn't like people touching his stuff. A bit stuck up, isn't he?" He chortled.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes at him. "Can't help it. The last time he trusted his stuff with someone, Stane dealt him a bad hand."

"Not true, the last time was when he left JARVIS with me!" Harley argued.

"That was because he had no choice, dumbass."

"Still counts!"

"Sure."

Sniffling, Harley turned away from the girl.

"Anyway, we have another test for you all! You got tested in Medic-01 to see your chemistry knowledge, here in Tech-04 we'll see your engineering skill!"

They gathered around a big white table, scraps and tools scattered on top.

"Nothing hard, just make a simple bot in 20 minutes. You can use everything on this table. Don't forget to name them, we'll take a look and judge them. Who knows, maybe someone will like your work and want to scout you."

"Time starts now!"

Harley left the group who immediately began working and stood a little to the side with (y/n).

"How are you feeling?" He murmured.

(Y/n) tilted her head up, softly hitting her head against the wall behind her. "Still a bit annoyed, to be honest. That little piece of shit." She grumbled.

"I feel like I've seen him before."

"That's Flash, Harls."

"Flash?" Harley turned to her, startled. "That Flash? The one Peter talked about?"

She nodded.

"Well… Fuck."

"Fuck, indeed."

For a moment, they stood there in silence, watching their assigned group tinkering with various tools while chattering within each other. (Y/n)'s eyes followed Flash's every movement like a hawk.

"I think he did something to Leeds earlier." She mumbled.

"What is it?"

"I don't know, but Jones confirmed it."

Harley hummed and looked around. His eyes caught a tablet sitting on top of a cabinet near them. He pushed himself away from the wall.

"Wait here."

He approached the cabinet and grabbed the tablet before going back to (y/n).

The tablet, a standard StarkPad issued for every department in SI, was locked with password. They easily unlocked it with the lab's code.

Harley quickly accessed FRIDAY with his credentials.

"FRI?"

"How can I help you, Harley?" Her voice came out from the tablet.

"Can you show us security footage from- when was it again?"

(Y/n) snorted.

"Don't laugh! You didn't tell me!" Harley complained indignantly.

"Footage on the trip group after lunch please, FRI."

"Right away, (y/n)."

——————————

"Hey, fatso!"

Ned and MJ didn't respond, continuing eating their lunch in peace.

And that peace was interrupted when Flash clasped Ned's shoulder and pulled him back hard, making him fell from the backless chair. "When I call you, I expect an answer!" He sniggered.

Unluckily for the two, Mr. Harrington was in line waiting for his meal, completely missing the exchange.

MJ quickly stood up and pushed him away to help Ned. "What the hell, Flash?!" MJ exclaimed angrily.

"Not my fault he's so heavy he can't stand gravity pulling him down." Flash snickered.

"Why you-"

"It's fine, MJ." Ned assured, putting a hand on her arm. "What do you want, Flash?" He asked tiredly.

Flash ignored MJ's heated glare (an amazing feat, really) and smirked at Ned. "Why haven't we heard anything about Parker, huh? If he's really an intern someone would've said something, right? Especially since we're from the same school."

Ned rolled his eyes.

"We only visited the Museum, Flash. Do you think he works there? He's probably in the labs a lot."

"Pfft, there's no way he's in the labs! That fucker can't even do anything right! The only thing he can work as is probably a janitor or something."

He reached out and gripped Ned's shoulder, nails sinking into the muscles tightly, ignoring Ned's wince. "So how about you stop lying and tell us the truth, hm? You're just embarrassing yourselves."

Already fed up, MJ grabbed Flash's wrist and forcefully removed his clutch on Ned's shoulder. "How about you stop bothering us, huh? Why are you so obsessed with Peter anyway? You in love with him or something?" She hissed out.

"I'm just saying that people deserve the truth after hearing stupid lies over and over again!" He snatched his hand back, huffing indignantly. "Fucking Penis Parker…

"You're the one spreading the news, Flash. Peter never really said anything." Ned mumbled, one hand massaging his sore shoulder. He could actually feel nails indent through his shirt. Flash's grip was just too tight.

"Oh shut up." Flash scoffed and finally left them.

——————————

"I'm going to kill him."

"(Y/n)…"

"Don't stop me, Harley."

The angry glow on her eyes returned, this time even brighter. Her (e/c) eyes almost looked like neon blue. Her face was completely blank, only the wide glowing eyes showing just how much anger she was feeling.

Harley held unto her shoulders and crouched down slightly to match her eye level. "Calm down, (y/n). Your eyes are glowing."

"As they should."

"No, they shouldn't!" He whispered-shouted. "Come on. Take a deep breath."

(Y/n) gritted her teeth.

CLINK!

"My bad." Zach said, reaching down to take a screwdriver that fell from the table.

CLINK!

Mr. Harrington frowned. "Did I knock it over?" He mumbled to himself, grabbing the fallen wrench.

CLINK!

"Shit, my pliers!"

CLINK!

CLINK!

CLINK!

CLINK!

"What-"

"An earthquake?!"

The table was shaking violently, throwing tools down to the floor. Above them, lights were flickering on and off.

Alarms started blaring.

"EVERYONE UNDER THE TABLE!"

"WATCH OUT FOR SHARP TOOLS!"

"COME ON GUYS MOVE IT!"

"(Y/N) STOP IT!" Harley tried to shout between the panic screaming.

(Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes were now fully neon blue, glowing brightly in the dark room. She took a shuddered breath and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Harley…" She whispered. "I can't."

——————————

"How do you get used to your power?"

"Hmm?" Peter looked up from his on-going web fluid. "Practice, I guess…"

"What did you do?"

Peter put the flask on the table. "That depends on which power I try to control. Like my super strength, for example. I practiced juggling eggs and tomatoes without crushing them. It's a lot harder than I thought it would be."

(Y/n) hummed and looked up to the ceiling, contemplating.

"How about you?" Peter asked.

"Me?"

"Yeah. Hecate is always mindful of the children they saved. Their control is amazing."

"…That's Hecate. Not me."

Peter dropped his arms. He removed his gloves and walked towards the girl and plopped down beside her on the sofa.

"We've talked about this, (y/n). Hecate is you and you are Hecate."

"Sure doesn't feel like it." (Y/n) mumbled.

"Is it because of the pronoun?"

"Hm…"

He propped an arm on the backrest. "Didn't you come to the conclusion that you're bigender?"

"Yeah…" She sighed. "But that just makes Hecate feel more like a separate being than me."

"Why are they not you?"

(Y/n) removed her stare from the ceiling to Peter's face. "When I go out as Hecate, I don't… I don't feel like (y/n) Stark." She said softly. "When I don Hecate suit, I just… changed, I guess. Hecate feels like a different person. Hecate doesn't think like (y/n) Stark and they sure as hell doesn't act like (y/n) Stark."

Her voice dropped. "Their control over their curse is also better than (y/n) Stark's."

Peter shuffled closer to her and pulled her into an embrace. He buried his fingers into her hair, gently playing with them slightly. "Spider-Man feels like a different person too. But for me, I know that it's because of the mask." He murmured against the side of her hair. "Why do you think they feel different?"

"I'm not sure…"

"Also, it's not a curse, (y/n). It's a gift."

"A gift? Given by HYDRA?"

"Where it comes from doesn't matter. How you use them does."

"Yet I can't even use it without hurting someone as (y/n)."

Peter pulled back, looking straight into (y/n)'s (e/c) eyes. "How about this; if you ever feel like you're not in control of your power, you tell me. I'll try to help you."

"Can you?"

"We can try."

——————————

(Y/n) kept her eyes firmly shut. She could hear everyone screaming in fear as everything in the room shook. Small tools even started to flew around, narrowly missing some people.

Harley tried to shout words of encouragement to calm her down, but to no avail.

It was only when his hands holding her shoulders were replaced by another pair and a familiar voice murmuring out her name did she finally open her eyes.

"Peter?"

"Hey, Hecate." He smiled.

She shook her head. "Not Hecate. This is (y/n). Hecate wouldn't lose control like this." She whispered.

"Listen," Peter said softly, "Hecate is in you, whether you feel like they are or not. Hecate is you, (y/n). You can be both Hecate and (y/n) at the same time."

(Y/n) shook her head again.

"Close your eyes, (y/n)."

She did.

"Now think of the times you went out as Hecate. Recall those feelings. How did you know to stop when a child, bruised and hurt, was near you? How did you know not to harm them?"

And that was the thing with Hecate. They may have a violent nature when it came to despicable people who decided that taking a kid from their parents was a great money source, but when faced with said kid, they would cease all action. They may thirst for the blood of those people, but they would never harm a hair on a kid.

Because they knew what it was like to be that kid once.

——————————

"And that's how I became Spider-Man." Peter concluded.

"I wonder if that kind of spider still exist."

"Well I know that I killed the one that bit me."

(Y/n) snickered. "So your power comes from an experimented spider, huh?"

"Yep! And you?"

"Same as you."

"Experimented spider bit you?" Peter frowned.

"Nah, they experimented on me instead of a spider."

"Wait what-"

She stretched her stiff shoulder. Sitting for too long did that to your muscles. "Where do you think I was before I live with dad?" She said nonchalantly. "HYDRA took me when I was about 6. Thought I was a great asset, really. Made me do lots of jobs too. Dad found me during a mission."

Peter almost choked on his own saliva. "W-Why did you never tell me?"

(Y/n) blinked. "You never asked." She deadpanned.

After Peter regained his bearing, he braved himself to ask another question. "Where's your mom now?"

"Died."

He almost choked for the second time.

"Dad didn't know I'm his daughter, so he tried to track my mom. Turns out she died a few months after I was kidnapped, so, yeah."

"(Y/n)…"

"I guess that's why kidnapping cases irked me so much." (Y/n) hummed thoughtfully. "Children don't deserve that kind of horror. I remember being so scared those first few weeks."

——————————

As he guided her through breathing exercises, the shaking around her finally started to cease as her heartbeat slowed down.

(Y/n) opened her eyes to find Peter's own warm brown eyes looking straight to hers. "How are you?" He asked softly.

She bit her lower lip and hung her head in shame.

"Hey, come on, eyes up here, Princess Stark." Peter lifted her chin up.

"…I haven't lost control like that since years ago." She murmured. She didn't dare to even steal a glance at Peter's face. She kept her eyes down to the floor, letting the shame fill her.

"(Y/n)-"

"What the fuck is Penis Parker doing here?!"

Peter turned his head, finally seeing his decathlon team for the first time. "What the-"

"And what the fuck was that?! It doesn't feel like earthquake! What kind of freak shit is this?!"

Peter was about to speak when he felt (y/n)'s shoulder shaking under his hand. Eyes widened, he looked down at her only to find her already glaring at Flash, eyes alarmingly glowing again.

So he did what he knew would definitely distract (y/n) from possibly killing his classmate.

Peter grabbed (y/n)'s cheeks and quickly pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

And distracted she was.

"You're,"

Peck,

"Okay,"

Peck,

"Just,"

Peck,

"Ignore,"

Peck,

"Him",

Peck,

"Alright?"

Finally pulling his face away, he could see (y/n) blinking owlishly at him. The glow in her eyes had gone, replaced by the beautiful (e/c) he loved.

He didn't bother to see how Flash or the rest of his teammates reacted to seeing him, the nerd of the group, openly kissing the infamous daughter of Tony Stark.

He did, however, registered Ned's delighted giggle and MJ's sigh.

Unfortunately, (y/n) seemed to still be aware of her surrounding and caught Flash's squawk.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and sighed. She side-eyed Flash with a slight glare.

And before Peter realized it, Flash was flung back to, thankfully, a chair behind him. It was still a hard shove and his back would be aching as hell, but at least it wasn't to (or even through!) the wall, Peter rationalized.

(Y/n) quickly removed Peter's hand on her cheeks and approached the now mildly terrified Flash. She grabbed the front of his collar.

Peter didn't stop her. Her eyes may seem brighter than normal, but the absence of neon blue glow was a good sign that she was in control. That was purely (y/n) Stark needing to vent her anger by threatening a bitch out and not Hecate.  Peter knew better than to get between a woman's wrath and the object of her animosity, after all.

Yeah, a little threat wouldn't hurt, would it?, Peter thought amusedly. He had it coming after all.

"Listen to me, figlio di puttana," she hissed out, face only inches away from Flash's, "if I ever see or even heard about you being a bag of shit like you are ever again, you won't know what's coming for you."

"I-"

"Don't ever say or even think about Peter and anyone close to him anymore, you fucking hear me? You touch a hair on them, and the end of the world will seem mild compare to what I would do."

Silence fell upon the room.

The trip group was still shaken over the 'quake', and add that to seeing their teammate got thrown back by an invisible force, they were just… stunned. They didn't even really register that Peter was in the same room as them. Aside from Flash, Ned, and MJ, at least.

"Well, this is a disaster."

Tony's voice rang in the lab, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He stood in front of the glass sliding doors, dressed in impeccable suit and wearing a pair of sunglasses despite the lack of sun in the lab.

His eyes swept upon the room. His employees seemed fine, just a bit surprised. They were already used to unforeseen incidents, he supposed. His interns slash pseudo-sons also seemed fine, if not a bit miffed. The group was still shocked, which was no shocker (pun intended).

But then he saw his daughter in the middle of threatening someone, eyes wide and shining, teeth gritted.

He sighed.

At least he knew his scientists would be no problem. They had signed confidential agreement to keep everything happening while in work to themselves in their work contract, especially if it included any of the Starks. The group, on the other hand…

"People, remember your NDAs. You all, follow me." He gestured at the group before turning away.

After a few steps, he stopped as if he just remembered something and looked back, "Oh, and Pete? Take her upstairs, will you? Stay with her."

"Of course, Mr. Stark."

"Harls, come with me. I need the whole story."

Harley nodded but said nothing, prompting Tony to turned away again and started leaving.

"Come on, let's go." Harley told the group.

Ned worriedly made an eye contact with Peter, but Peter only shook his head.

Hesitantly, they started leaving, but not without throwing curious looks towards Peter who already pulled (y/n) back from Flash.

"Go now while you can, faccia a culo." (Y/n) jeered. "I can't promise your life if you don't."

Gulping, Flash hurriedly stood up and ran out of the labs.

Before following the group, Harley looked at Peter and (y/n). "Are you two going to be okay?" He asked.

(Y/n) didn't answer, but Peter slung an arm around her shoulder and held her close. "We'll be fine. Sorry for the interruption, Harley." Peter apologized.

"Nothing to be sorry of. Everything will be okay, so don't think too much about it, okay, Princess Stark?" Harley smiled at the girl.

(Y/n) nodded once.

With a final look between Harley and Peter, Harley left the lab to follow the group.

Peter gently held (y/n)'s hand and pulled her towards the private elevator. He took them to the penthouse, straight to her room.

Once inside, he sat her down on her bed.

"How are you feeling right now?"

(Y/n) sighed heavily.

"Mostly angry." She mumbled.

Peter hummed. He sat beside her, an arm behind her to sneak a hand and hold her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes tiredly.

"What happened?" He murmured.

Slowly, (y/n) started telling her story, from when she first went downstairs to meet the group until when Harley and her watched the footage.

"I've been on edge the whole day," she confessed, "and I guess that video just pushed the limit."

"It's not your fault, (y/n)."

(Y/n) scoffed, "Maybe not all, but part of it is. I couldn't control my power, Pete! That's just a recipe for disaster!" She yelled in frustration. "It's been years since that happened! I thought I had this under control!"

Peter squeezed her hand. "Alright then. We'll train. We'll practice until you're absolutely sure you can use your power freely even as (y/n) Stark." He said with a smile.

"But how?"

"We'll figure it out."

Although not entirely satisfied with Peter's answer, she only nodded.

"By the way, why did you lead the trip? I thought you said you had a presentation." Peter asked, changing the topic.

Rolling her eyes, (y/n) answered with a slight scoff, "I lost a bet to Harley."

——————————

Tony stood in front of the meeting room. Peter's decathlon team was all sitting in front of him, his teacher and bully included. Harley had told him about what happened earlier. Needless to say, Tony was not happy.

He had thought of Peter and Harley as his sons; his children aside from (y/n). The fact that Peter had something going on with (y/n) didn't matter, it was a bonus in his eyes. So knowing that Peter had to deal with a bully every day was not something he could really tolerate. Not to mention that said bully also angered his daughter enough to lose control.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He had asked Harley earlier.

"It wasn't my story to tell, Tony." Harley had answered.

His eyes swept across the room once more. He saw their teacher, Harrington, if he remembered correctly, was openly scolding Flash.

Good, he thought, at least the teacher isn't just ignoring this problem.

"Alright!" Tony clapped his hand loudly. "Let's just keep this short, shall we? I'm supposed to be in a meeting right now and Pepper is not happy that I left."

His face turned serious. "Your parents signed NDAs for you to be here. You are not allowed to say anything about what you saw in this building to anyone, including your parents, or you will regret it. Even if we can't get to you directly, your parents are on the line here, and losing them would be a great loss for you, wouldn't it?"

Some of them gulped nervously. Flash just looked terrified.

"Just remember that I have better lawyers than you ever will. Capisce?"

Once he saw them hurriedly nodded, he grinned. "Okay then! I'll let you ask me questions now for compensation after that incident. Gotta take care of my daughter's problem, right?"

The group looked at each other, still miffed and hesitant to ask anything. They just got threatened to lose practically everything they had, after all.

However, Ned, who already had no intention to tell anyone about what happened thanks to Peter anyway, raised a hand.

"Yes, you, uhh… Fred!"

"It's Ned." Harley rolled his eyes. Tony pointedly ignored him.

Even wrong, Ned still felt joy in knowing that Tony knew him. "Hi, I was wondering about Harley's badge? Don't interns have half-white badges?"

Tony gestured at Harley to answer. "Well?"

Harley scoffed at Tony before answering, "Yeah, mine and Peter's are special badges since we're this dude's personal interns."

"Personal intern?" Abe chimed in, face curious.

"He's hopeless, trust me. This whole building would've burned if it weren't for us." Harley snickered, blatantly ignoring Tony who was glaring daggers at him.

"I'll let you know that I'm perfectly fine being alone in my lab." Tony huffed. "I've been doing it for years and I'm fine."

"Uh-huh, sure, old man."

Betty, pushed by Ned's nonchalance, raised a hand as well, "Mr. Stark? What is the requirement to be an intern here? Harley and Peter are our age, so does this mean we also qualify?"

Cindy also raised a hand, "Earlier we had tests in the labs. They said we can get scouted, is that true?"

"Ah yes, you were supposed to be given the internship program information at the end of the tour!" Tony said. "Basically, we have a new internship program for high school students. The interns will be handpicked by your 'test' results."

When Tony offered no other explanation, Harley added, "We just put the information on our web. Just go to Stark Industries' official website and click on the Internship Program. Sorry guys, you were supposed to get full session on this, but (y/n) was the one who had to give the presentation and she's not… available."

"Or Peter. He's one of the head of that programs after all. Wait," Tony stopped, looking at Harley incredulously, "you're the other head of the program. Why don't you give the presentation?"

Harley only shrugged with a grin.

"How is Parker already an intern?" Flash asked in disbelief. "And Head of Internship Program?!" It seems that his terrified daze from earlier had dissipated, which was really quick. He was quite a thickhead, after all.

Tony squinted at him, scrutinizing. This kid just never stop, huh?

"I scouted him myself." He announced.

Flash was taken aback by Tony's nonchalant answer, but he pressed on, "But why?"

"Because he impressed me. Genius kid, really. Better than nearly everyone I've ever known. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend." He quickly said, already losing any will to interact with children any longer.

Before he left, he did add, "Also, Mr. Thompson, is it? I'll have a meeting with your parents and the principal soon, so get ready."

Flash's eyes widened.

Once he left, the room erupted in chaos.

"What just happened?!"

"Peter is really an intern!"

"Not just an intern, but already head of a program!"

"HE KISSED (Y/N) STARK OMG!"

"Who cares?! We almost died again!"

"But we might get to intern here too!"

"No, no, back up! We almost died! And by what?! What was that?!!"

"Wasn't it (y/n)?!"

"How did she do that?!"

"I don't know! But you saw what happened to Flash!"

"I guess (y/n) is Hecate then." Ned whispered to MJ. MJ nodded.

"She looked like she hated her power earlier." MJ muttered. "No wonder she snapped at you when you asked about Hecate."

"OKAY EVERYONE CALM DOWN!" Harley shouted, trying to gain control over the group.

One by one, they started to quiet down.

"I suppose this is the end of your trip. Remember the NDAs; not a word!" He said, which the group answered with a chorus of yes. "Great! Now follow me to the lobby!"

——————————

"You okay, il mio tarassaco?"

"I am now. Sorry about earlier, dad."

"Nothing to worry about. I really have to go to meeting now, but we'll talk later, okay? Take it easy after this, maybe just sleep or mess around in your private lab, if you want to. Don't overexert your power."

(Y/n) smiled gratefully. The public may saw her father only as an egocentric hero, but she knew better. He always tried to be the best dad and she was grateful for it. Tony Stark wasn't a perfect dad, but he tried. He knew better than to be like his own father. Even if his daughter was an accident he only discovered a few years back, Tony knew there was little he wouldn't do for her.

"Okay. Love you, see you later."

"Love you too."

As she ended the call, Harley rushed towards her and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry for putting you through that hell, Princess Stark! It was that stupid bet!"

"HARLEY I CAN'T BREATHE!"

Harley let her go with a sheepish grin. "Are you okay now?"

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. "Everyone asked me that. I'm fine. How's the situation?"

"Tony threatened them with the NDAs." He shrugged. "I don't think they really connect you to Hecate, but Ned definitely did."

She nodded in understanding. "Leeds is fine, I think… Peter trusts him."

"He won't tell anyone. But if he knows, MJ definitely does too." Peter piped in.

"You trust both of them, don't you?"

"Yeah, they're great."

(Y/n) smiled at him, "Maybe I should try befriend them then. Share my own secret like you did too."

Peter smiled back.

——————————

Bonus:

"Dude! You're the story of the year!"

"What?"

"Everyone's talking about you and (y/n) now!"

MJ sipped on her drink. "How is she anyway?"

"She's fine. Excited to meet you guys, actually." Peter answered.

"But we met her already?" Ned frowned.

"As a friend, Ned."

"Ooh…"

For a moment, no one said anything as they chewed on their food. "Hey, so (y/n) is really Hecate, right?"

"Ned! Shh!"

The End

——————————

Dictionary

Merda: shit

Cazzo: fuck

Vaffanculo: go fuck yourself

Figlio di puttana: son of a bitch

Faccia a culo: assface

Il mio tarassaco: my dandelion*

I looked these terms online, so they may not be 100% accurate. I’m sorry if I make any mistake!

*My Dandelion: a few months ago, I got into doll customizing and decided to make my own (y/n) Stark into a doll form. When I plugged in her hair, it had poofed up like a dandelion and stayed like that for weeks while I worked on her face-up. I got used to calling her Dandelion after that. Because of this, I’ve been nicknaming (y/n) as Dandelion.

Afterthoughts

Wow it’s over already... This story was an experience. It started as a fun little thing to celebrate my birthday with and to finally tell Meggie my handle to a 16k-word mess. Thank you so much to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, and commented on Part One! I hope you like this part too :)

——————————

Just Out of Touch Taglist

@spn-assemble-seven @racewife2004 @lukesbabylon @serendipitous-amor @sovereign-parker @ifangirlninja @lyzalovealk @lookuptotheskiesandsee @tommysparker @starlight-starks

Permanent (Marvel) Taglist

@marvelexi @lou-la-lou @spiderbibby​ @hello--zuko-here @everydaymj

Mutuals

@allegra-soleil @spideygirl2003 @delicatepeterparker @parkerpeter24 @terrifictomholland @quackeroos @angel-spidey @greenorangevioletgrass @the-crazy-fanfictionist​

#peter parker imagine #peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman x readr #spiderman imagine #stark!reader #tony stark #tom holland #mcu #marvel fanfic #field trip trope #peter x reader #peter x you #peter parker fandom #peter parker angst #just out of touch

[justforbooks]

February 20, 1943 – The Saturday Evening Post publishes the first of Norman Rockwell's Four Freedoms in support of United States President Franklin Roosevelt's 1941 State of the Union address theme of Four Freedoms.

The Four Freedoms is a series of four 1943 oil paintings by the American artist Norman Rockwell. The paintings—Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Worship, Freedom from Want, and Freedom from Fear—are each approximately 45.75 inches (116.2 cm) × 35.5 inches (90 cm), and are now in the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. The four freedoms refer to President Franklin D. Roosevelt's January 1941 Four Freedoms State of the Union address in which he identified essential human rights that should be universally protected. The theme was incorporated into the Atlantic Charter, and became part of the charter of the United Nations. The paintings were reproduced in The Saturday Evening Post over four consecutive weeks in 1943, alongside essays by prominent thinkers of the day. They became the highlight of a touring exhibition sponsored by The Post and the U.S. Department of the Treasury. The exhibition and accompanying sales drives of war bonds raised over $132 million.

This series has been the cornerstone of retrospective art exhibits presenting the career of Rockwell, who was the most widely known and popular commercial artist of the mid-20th century, but did not achieve critical acclaim. These are his best-known works, and by some accounts became the most widely distributed paintings. At one time they were commonly displayed in post offices, schools, clubs, railroad stations, and a variety of public and semi-public buildings.

Critical review of these images, like most of Rockwell's work, has not been entirely positive. Rockwell's idyllic and nostalgic approach to regionalism made him a popular illustrator but a lightly regarded fine artist during his lifetime, a view still prevalent today. However, he has created an enduring niche in the social fabric with Freedom from Want, emblematic of what is now known as the "Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving".

Rockwell's Four Freedoms—Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Worship, Freedom from Want, and Freedom from Fear—were first published on February 20, February 27, March 6, and March 13, 1943 along with commissioned essays from leading American writers and historians (Booth Tarkington, Will Durant, Carlos Bulosan, and Stephen Vincent Benét, respectively). They measure 45.75 inches (116.2 cm) × 35.5 inches (90 cm) except Freedom of Worship which measures 46.0 inches (116.8 cm) × 35.5 inches (90 cm). Rockwell used live models for all his paintings. In 1935, he began using black-and-white photographs of these live models extensively, although he did not publicly reveal he did so until 1940. The use of photography expanded the possibilities for Rockwell who could ask models to pose in positions they could hold only for brief periods of time. He could also produce works from new perspectives and the Four Freedoms represented "low vantage point of Freedom of Speech, to close-up in Freedom of Worship, midrange in Freedom from Fear, and wide angle in Freedom from Want".

In 1939, Rockwell moved to Arlington, Vermont, which was an artist-friendly community that had hosted Robert Frost, Rockwell Kent, and Dorothy Canfield Fisher. Of the move from New Rochelle, New York, Rockwell said "I was restless ... The town [of New Rochelle] seemed tinged with everything that happened to me". In New Rochelle, he had both endured a divorce and run with a fast crowd. Artists John Atherton, Mead Schaeffer and George Hughes established residences in Arlington soon after Rockwell. The resident artists, Rockwell included, were mutually supportive and hired local citizens as their amateur models. Using photography and Arlington residents as models, Rockwell was able to capture what he referred to as "human-looking humans", who were generally working-class people, in an hour or so rather than hire professional models for the entire day. Rockwell paid his models modestly. Rose Hoyt, who was engaged for a total of three photographic sessions for Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Worship, earned $15 ($234.71 in 2019 dollars) for her sittings.

When the US entered the war in 1941, it had three agencies responsible for war propaganda: The Office of Facts and Figures (OFF), The Division of Information of the Office of Emergency Management (OEM), and Office of Government Reports (OGR). The OFF was responsible for commissioned artwork and for assembling a corps of writers, led by Librarian of Congress Archibald MacLeish. By mid-1942, the Office of War Information determined that despite the efforts of OFF in distributing pamphlets, posters, displays, and other media, only a third of the general public was familiar with Roosevelt's Four Freedoms and at most one in fifty could enumerate them. The Four Freedoms had been a "campaign to educate Americans about participation in World War II".

By 1942, Rockwell had been illustrating professionally for thirty years and was having a successful career. Additionally, by mid-1942 Rockwell's Gillis was becoming famous. Lorimer had been the editor of The Post from 1898 to 1936. He was followed by Wesley W. Stout for five years. In early 1942, Stout ran an article entitled "The Case Against the Jew", which led to advertising and subscription cancellations. The Post was rumored to be in financial trouble in 1942. Soon Stout was replaced by Hibbs who revamped the magazine.

On May 24, 1942, Rockwell was seeking approval for a poster design at The Pentagon because the Artists Guild had designated that he advocate for the U.S. Army Ordnance Department. Robert Patterson, who was then United States Undersecretary of War, suggested revisions. On the same day, he visited with Thomas Mabry of the Graphic Division of the War Department's Office of Facts and Figures, which coordinated war-themed posters and billboards. Mabry relayed the need for Four Freedoms artwork. Rockwell returned home pondering the Atlantic Charter, which had incorporated the Four Freedoms.

Rockwell remembered a scene of a local town meeting in which one person spoke out in lone dissent, but was given the floor, and was listened to respectfully, despite his solitary opposition. He was inspired to use this scene to illustrate Freedom of Speech, and Rockwell decided to use his Vermont neighbors as models for an inspirational set of posters depicting the themes laid out by Roosevelt the previous year in a Four Freedoms series. He spent three days making charcoal sketches of the series, which some sources describe as colour sketches. Rockwell's patriotic gesture was to travel to Washington, D.C. and volunteer his free services to the government for this cause. In mid-June, accompanied by Schaeffer, he took four charcoal sketches to Washington, where they stayed at the Mayflower Hotel, as the two sought commissions to design war art. During the trip, Rockwell was asked by the Boy Scouts of America to continue his annual creation of a new painting for their annual calendar by publishing representative Orion Winford. He was unable to hold Patterson's attention during their meeting, so he met with the new Office of War Information (OWI), where he was told "The last war you illustrators did the posters. This war we're going to use fine artists men, real artists."

On his return trip to Vermont with Schaeffer on June 16, they stopped in Philadelphia to meet with new Saturday Evening Post editor Ben Hibbs. Many accounts portray this visit as unplanned, but whether it was is unclear. Hibbs liked Rockwell's Four Freedoms sketches, and he gave Rockwell two months to complete the works. A June 24 correspondence from The Post clarified that both Rockwell's and Schaeffer's series would be published. By June 26, The Post's art editor James Yates notified Rockwell of plans for a layout of paintings with an accompanying essay or accompanying essays by President Roosevelt.

Rockwell's summer was full of distractions. At one point a Manhattan gastroenterologist prescribed a surgery of uncertain nature, though it was not performed. He had commissions for other magazines, and business complications regarding second reproduction rights. He also had his Boy Scout commitment. Under time constraints, Rockwell made every excuse to avoid all other distracting assignments. In October, The Post sent its art editor to Arlington to check on Rockwell's progress. At about the same time, despite its Graphics Division chief's, Francis Brennan's outrage, the OWI began showing signs of renewed interest. In fact, after Rockwell was chosen the entire OWI Writers' Division resigned. The press release associated with the resignation asserted that the OWI was dominated by "high-pressure promoters who prefer slick salesmanship to honest information. These promoters would treat as stupid and reluctant customers the men and women of the United States." There was further turmoil in the OWI from a faction supporting work by Ben Shahn; Shahn's work was not used in propaganda because it lacked general appeal. There were several artists who were commissioned to promote the war, including Jean Carlu, Gerard Hordyke, Hugo Ballin, and Walter Russell. Russell created a Four Freedoms Monument that was eventually dedicated at Madison Square Garden in New York City.

The series took seven months to complete, and was finished by year end. Supposedly, Rockwell lost 10 pounds (4.54 kg) from the assignment. As Rockwell was completing the series, he was motivated by news of Allied setbacks, a fact that gives the work a sense of urgency. Models included a Mrs. Harrington who became the devout old woman in Freedom of Worship and a man named Jim Martin who appears in each painting in the series (most prominently in Freedom from Fear). The intention was to remind America what they were fighting for: freedom of speech and worship, freedom from want and fear. All the paintings used a muted palette and are devoid of the vermilion Rockwell is known for.

Some sources published after Rockwell's death question whether the government was truly as discouraging as Rockwell claimed. They cite an encouraging April 23, 1943 correspondence with Thomas D. Mabry of the OWI (a former Executive Director of the Museum of Modern Art). At the time, the three government propaganda agencies were disjointed until they were unified under the OWI on June 13, 1942 by a Presidential Executive Order. Furthermore, the writers' division, led by MacLeish, was under pressure for failing to deliver a message intelligible to people of varying intelligence.

Upon completion, Rockwell's works were briefly exhibited at the West Arlington Grange before being delivered to The Post in Philadelphia. The series arrived in Philadelphia in January 1943. Roosevelt was shown the paintings in early February, and The Post sought Roosevelt's approval for the series of paintings and essays. Roosevelt responded with both a personal letter to Rockwell and an "official" letter of commendation to The Post dated February 10. Roosevelt instructed The Post to have the OWI have the essays translated into foreign languages so they could be presented to leaders at the United Nations.

The Freedoms were published in a series of four full-colour, full-page editions, each accompanied by an essay of the same title. The panels were published in successive weeks in the order corresponding to Roosevelt's speech: Freedom of Speech (February 20), Freedom of Worship (February 27), Freedom from Want (March 6), and Freedom from Fear (March 13). For the authors of the accompanying essays, Hibbs had numerous options given the number of regular contributors to The Post.

Rockwell is considered the "quintessential middlebrow American artist" by Michael Kelly. As an artist he is an illustrator rather than a fine arts painter. Although his style is painterly, his work is produced for the purpose of mass reproduction, and it is produced with the intent of delivering a common message to its viewers via a detailed narrative style. Furthermore, the vast majority of Rockwell's work was viewed in reproduced format and almost none of his contemporaneous audience ever saw his original work. Also, Rockwell's style of backwoods New England small-town realism, known as regionalism, was sometimes viewed as out of step with the oncoming wave of abstract modern art. Some say his realism is so direct that he abstains from using artistic license. John Canaday, a New York Times art critic once referred to Rockwell as the "Rembrandt of Punkin' Crick" for his aversion to the vices of big city life. Dave Hickey derided Rockwell for painting without inflection. Some critics also view his sentimental and nostalgic vision out of step with the harsh realities of American life, such as the Great Depression. Deborah Solomon views the works as being "based on lofty civic principles", but rather than dealing with the warring patriots, they present themes with "civic and familial rituals" for "emblematic scenes".

Post editor Hibbs said the Four Freedoms were an "inspiration ... in the same way that the clock tower of old Independence Hall, which I can see from my office window, inspires me." Roosevelt wrote to Rockwell "I think you have done a superb job in bringing home to the plain, everyday citizen the plain, everyday truths behind the Four Freedoms ... I congratulate you not alone on the execution but also for the spirit which impelled you to make this contribution to the common cause of a freer, happier world". Roosevelt wrote to The Post, "This is the first pictorial representation I have seen of the staunchly American values contained in the rights of free speech and free worship and our goals of freedom from fear and want." Roosevelt also wrote of the corresponding essays, "Their words should inspire all who read them with a deeper appreciation of the way of life we are striving to preserve."

The Four Freedoms are perhaps Rockwell's most famous work. Some have said Rockwell's Four Freedoms lack artistic maturity. Others have pointed to the universality of the Freedom of Religion as disconcerting to practitioners of particular faiths. Others complained that he idealized American life because by depicting wholesome, healthy, and happy sentiments, Rockwell depicted the good that was remembered or wished for, but by avoiding misery, poverty, and social unrest, he failed to demonstrate command of the bad and the ugly parts of American life. Rockwell's response to this criticism was, "I paint life as I would like it to be." Rockwell made it known that he hoped these would be his masterpieces, but was disappointed. Nonetheless, he was satisfied with the public acceptance of the series and that the series was able to serve such a patriotic purpose. Laura Claridge feels he might have achieved his ambition if he had pursued the "quiet small scenes" he later became known for.

Although all four images were intended to promote patriotism in a time of war, Freedom from Want, which depicts an elderly couple serving a fat turkey to what looks like a table of happy and eager children and grandchildren has given the idyllic Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving work as important a place in the enduring marketplace of promoting family togetherness, peace and plenty as Hallmark at Christmas. Some say the Four Freedoms were unable to live up to the role of "illustrating grandiose concepts with humble correlatives" because they are too loud.

The commercial success of the series was in part because each painting is considered to be a model of understandable art by the general public. The success of Rockwell's depictions was due to his use of long-standing American cultural values about unity and respect of certain institutions while using symbols that enabled a broad audience to identify with his images. This understandability made it one extreme on the scale of artistic complexity when comparing the series to contemporaneous art. It was diametrically opposed to abstract art and far removed from the intrigue of surrealism.

In 1999, the High Museum of Art and the Norman Rockwell Museum produced the first comprehensive exhibition of Rockwell's career that started at the High Museum on November 6, 1999, stopped at the Chicago Historical Society, Corcoran Gallery of Art, San Diego Museum of Art, Phoenix Art Museum, and Norman Rockwell Museum before concluding at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum on February 11, 2002. Although there has been a long history of Rockwell detractors, during this Norman Rockwell: Pictures for the American People touring exhibition attendance was record-setting and critical reviews were quite favorable. The nostalgia seemed to cause a bit of revisionism in the art world, according to The New York Times which said, "What's odd is the show's enthusiastic reception by the art world, which in a lather of revisionism is falling all over itself to embrace what it once reviled: the comfy, folksy narrative visions of a self-deprecating illustrator..."

Some found Rockwell's presentation somewhat patronizing, but most were satisfied. The New Yorker remarked two years later: "They were received by the public with more enthusiasm, perhaps, than any other paintings in the history of American Art". Claridge notes that the series is an example in which the sum is greater than its parts. She notes the inspiration comes in part from their cumulative "heft".

Following the 1943–44 War Bond Show, the Four Freedoms toured the country further by train in a specially-designed car. Through the 1950s the Four Freedoms hung in Hibbs' offices at The Post. Hibb retired in 1961 and by the time The Post was discontinued in 1969, Rockwell regained possession of the original paintings. Norman Rockwell bequeathed his personal collection in trust to the Norman Rockwell Museum in 1973 for the "advancement of art appreciation and art education". This collection included the Four Freedoms paintings. The works remained on exhibit at "The Norman Rockwell Museum at The Old Corner House" for nearly 25 years. In 1993, when the Rockwell Museum moved from its original location, the Four Freedoms were displayed in the new museum's central gallery. As of 2014, the Four Freedoms remain in the collection of the Museum. In 2011, the Williamstown Art Conservation Center did some work on the Four Freedoms, including reducing exposure to various elements and preventing further wear.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Norman Rockwell #Four Freedoms

[cockasinthebird]

okay!!!! so!!! i guess it’s kind of a prompt, but like steve goes to an art college thing. and he’s suuuper talented, one of the best in his class. and the prof. says that they have a guest to come in for some modelling. and steve is super excite ‘cause he loves doing projects like this. and then the model comes in, covered in a bathrobe, it’s billy. he goes to sit on the stool at the front. drops the robe, he’s completely nude. looks steve directly in the eye and winks! just an idea i had! -🎨

Dear anon, !!!!!!! This took SO LONG, but then again I was flagged and unavailable for like two weeks, and I did not write at all in that time, but as I woke up today to find myself back to normal, I quickly finished what was left, and now 11 pages long, I will post some of it here, then link the rest on my AO3!

My mind went off on this, and I hope it’s as good as I believe, especially what with all the teasing I’ve been doing!

Now, enjoy~

-

An arts scholarship is not something everyone can brag about, well, almost everyone, or so Steve thought when he got approved for one after his high school teacher encouraged him to apply.

He’s not dumb, or unintelligent, as most people around him will say - the words on the pages just don’t connect right, as if he can’t see what any other person might perceive, and it is reflected on his grades. Math is… fine, the only issue there is a general unwillingness to learn, because rather than doing algebra and figuring out trigonometry, Steve’s talents lie in the stroke of a brush, in the graphite of a pencil, in the black of charcoal.

His mother always encouraged him with a loving hand and a wondrous appreciation for every single little drawing Steve came up with as a child, fueling this intense fire inside of him that only felt relief against paper or canvas. She showered him in materials; endless chalk, a rainbow of watercolors, acrylics, oil pastels, pencils in all shapes and hues, stacks of papers, piles of canvas, even let him paint the walls of his bedroom as far as he could reach.

His father… simply stood and scowled in the doorway. He’s old fashioned, wanted an heir to the Harrington Construction Empire his own father built, not some… artistic little fairy. Steve stopped counting how many of his parents' fights were about him years ago.

And now he’s here, in California, attending college of all things, surrounded by students who, just like him, have devoted their entire lives to the arts. He feels less special, less talented, amongst his peers, where it seems that a third of them have arrived on scholarships, too.

But his teacher, Mr Reynolds, an old man with a long goatee and suspenders, always assures Steve that he is, without a doubt, the star of the class. That he will go far in his life, become world renowned, famous for his works, that in the future art classes will teach about his techniques and colors and soul.

Steve likes to believe it; spends his spare time thinking about what painting of his would be displayed in museums, what the critics will say, what he will wear to the reveal party, what his speech will sound like.

All those thoughts course through his overactive mind whenever he looks at a blank surface, just waiting, begging to be filled with his inspired soul. Perhaps he’s a bit too immodest and vain and arrogant, but he doesn’t really put up a fight against those ideals; never bothered trying to be humble about what is so obvious to any eye, and when every teacher has never offered up anything besides praise, is he to believe they’re all liars?

He looks around at his classmates as they set up in the arranged circle surrounding a single stool in the middle. They all smile at him, greetings exchanged as always, the friendliness of people who you’ve had a few beers with, attended some parties and gatherings together, but never really gotten to know past the surface.

Steve’s just not as social as he used to be, and moving halfway across the country didn’t really help that either. Something changed in him during the last year of high school, but honestly he can’t complain. He goes whenever invited, otherwise he keeps to himself, focuses on his studies, does his homework, a scholarship can only get you so far, and if his grades dip too low, it’s bye bye future.

“All on time for once! Impressive!” Reynolds says with a cheery tone, clasping his hands together with a wide smile as he moves to the center of the classroom. “For today’s live figure drawing practice, we’ll continue working with models and volunteers from all parts of life, and today I’ve managed to convince a hard working, blue collar of a man! William Hargrove, you may take the stage!”

Everyone turns to the stained room divider over in a solitude corner, the usual spot where their models change in and out of clothes and robes, and from behind steps a man dressed in a dark gray bathrobe, adorned with the most gorgeous crown of golden curls, his stubble is scruffy with a more accentuated mustache, and his eyes are of the clearest blue waters Steve has ever seen before.

His breathing pauses for just a moment as he stares at the broad shouldered stranger, caught in a trance - a willing subject to be ensnared by this man’s confidence, walking like he owns the room. Steve doesn’t even realise that he’s staring till he’s met with those heavenly eyes.

Who then winks at him, grin mischievous and aware of what thoughts surge forth in his presence.

Steve’s heart beats like a drum, ramming against his ribs, a heated flush rushing up to tint his ears red, spilling into his cheeks. He can’t help but whip his head back towards his easel with a stare that could burn a hole in the pages before him, restraining himself from gawking further, trying to calm down some.

It’s not that he hasn’t paid attention to other guys in the past, it’s just that he hasn’t cared for that kind of stuff before. Even when he was dating Nancy back in high school he didn’t care enough. But now? This guy? This man? 

Nothing more than one simple, flirty look, and Steve’s interest tiptoes over the line of professional into personal, dipping in, testing the waters there.

And when he reaches the middle of the circle, everyone here far too interested in seeing what he’s hiding beneath the robe, he slowly slips it off, clearly revelling in all the attention if the smile he carries is any indication.

Unfortunately, much to Steve’s inconvenience, this William Hargrove is ripped. Jaw strong like a cliffside, biceps akin to perfectly carved marble, formidable pecs covered in chest hair lush like a forest that spreads down abs like rolling hills, Steve’s eyes travels smooth like a stream across the landscape of William’s body, down to his-

He refocuses on the easel in front of him, invitingly barren and pleading for him to ruin the stillness with his own inappropriate curiosity.

“Thank you once again for agreeing to this, Mister Hargrove. You may use this stool here to pose with, or without, it is entirely up to whatever you’re most comfortable with,” Reynolds explains, unhooking a thumb from where he fiddles with his suspenders to accept the robe that William has removed.

“Yes sir,” sounds the response, his voice husky and charming, throaty from years of use.

It tugs further at Steve’s intrigue, oh to hear him laugh, read a book aloud, sing along to whatever reckless music he listens to, probably rock or something abrasive. Steve’s wild imagination goes through it all in the matter of seconds, just to be pulled back when his teacher speaks again,

“We’ll be taking things a bit slow today, six poses with 10 minutes each, let you all get a good feel for Mr Hargrove’s body, really focus and pay attention to how the shadows fall.”

Steve’s convinced the way he swallows hard must be audible, the lump in his throat making a loud splash in the pool of boiling nerves gathered in his stomach, breaking surface tension and stirring up thoughts he hasn’t really bothered with for months, if not a year by now.

Yet here’s this stranger with such undeniable magnetism, taking a seat, naked on a stool, aiming straight at Steve, staring at Steve, smirking at Steve.

Who nervously rakes fingers through his hair, pushing it back and away as to more clearly see his model, noticing how the muscles flex and tense as Hargrove decides on his first pose. The human body is phenomenal to look at, nothing in the world deserves grander appreciation than it, and it’s easy for Steve to convince himself that that’s what this is, an accentuated form of gratitude for the very same shape that Michelangelo used for his David.

Finally William gets settled, on the edge of his seat, one foot on the ground, the other up on the bar between the legs of the stool, elbow raised and bent to bring a hand behind his head, the other relaxed on his thigh. Exposed and raw and muscular and brilliant.

Steve could truly go on and on and on about this Adonis posed all nude before him, face turned slightly to the side, but it is unquestionably clear that the rest of him is aimed directly at where Steve sits, and he doesn’t realise he’s staring again till Reynolds says,

“Ten minutes, everyone! You may begin!”

Keep reading on AO3

#Harringrove #My Writing #Art Student AU #Only Mature for now ;))) #God I went OFF on this one #Anonymous

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker - Far From Home

This is long, angsty and fluffy! It follows the film, mostly. 

Plot: Peter Parker has just been run over by a train. However, he has biggest worries. Like, Beck having you in his grasp. 

“Oh my god, Happy”

Peter let out a loud hiss when the needle hit his skin once more, and swallowed down the tears that threatened to leave his eyes. He bit his lip, closed his eyes and endured the pain for a while longer. No more than a few hours ago, he had been all over the moon because you had asked him to go for a walk through the city. He had been inches away from kissing you, had gripped your hand and had told you the truth about his identity; well, you had figured it out, but no one needed to know that. It felt like a dream, that had turned into a nightmare because of his stupidity.

“Just a few more to go, don’t worry” Happy said, using a soft voice that Peter thought he didn’t deserve.

Another pinch, another hiss. The needle, however, wasn’t what hurt him the most. It was a mash up between the betrayal of who he thought he could trust, the guilt crushing into him like waves, and his mind running a mile per hour with the possibilities of the disaster that he had caused.

He tried looking out of the window and focused on the low hum of the plane. It was hard to disassociate from Happy stitching up his shoulder without any anaesthetic, and just when he thought he had managed to keep his breathing under control, the careful man hit some nerve and Peter jumped on his seat.

“Happy!” Peter slammed his fist on the desk, an empty cup making its way to the ground.

“Relax, Peter!” Happy tried to calm him down, but it only angered Peter more. The boy got up in a sudden move, with half of his wound still bleeding. Happy was about to drag him back to the chair when Peter turned around and faced him, showing the angry tears on his eyes.

“Don’t tell me to relax!”

Happy had known Peter for some years by then. He had thought he knew the boy fairly well to say that Peter was nothing but sunshine and rainbows. The kid made videos, introduced himself to everything – and anything – , and sometimes brought sandwiches for him when he thought Happy might not have eaten yet. But the way Peter spoke, showed him that the pain he was feeling was nothing like sunshine and rainbows. In fact, Happy thought no one should ever felt it – especially not a kid, his kid.

“How can I relax when I messed up so bad?” his voice broke at the end into a messy sob, and Peter pressed the back of his bloody hand to his lips. “I trusted – I trusted Beck. I thought he was my friend, I gave him the only thing Mr Stark left behind for me.”

“Kid, maybe – ” Happy started, but Peter cut him off.

“And now, he has her.” Peter let the tears run down his cheeks, supporting himself against the side of the plane. “He has the most important person for me and the deadliest weapon, because – because I can’t take care of anything without messing up”

His legs gave up and Happy didn’t have time to catch him before he stumbled into the nearest sit. The autopilot was, once more, the only thing that could be heard in the plane, besides Peter’s quiet sobs. Happy didn’t know much about what had happened, just that he had received a call from a very long number and had to fly through half of the world to get Peter. Since then, he had had to calm the boy down from a panic attack twice, where he had only muttered your name and asked if everything was real.

“So, please… do not tell me to relax.” Peter breathed out.

He let his body fall down until his head was nearly hitting his knees, and ran a desperate hand through his hair. It was damp with blood and sweat, and he missed so, so much the brief feeling of your hand running through his hair. It had been just a second, after he had freaked out after the whole discovery with Mysterio, and you had done it by chance. But he wanted so desperately to feel it again. Peter and Happy let the silence take over for a few minutes, and Peter used that time to get his shit together.

Finally, he heard movement and raised his head. Happy was sitting now in front of him, leaning towards him with his hands clasped together. There was only a desk between them, and that reminded him of the abysm that dissociated both of them in that moment. While Peter was witnessing his whole word crash, Happy still had to understand where that awful wound came from.

“You have to talk to me, Peter” Happy tried to sound as friendly as possible. He searched Peter’s eyes with his own, and held the smile even when he saw the pain in them.

“Y/N… she’s the girl I had the plan with” Peter started, lowering his gaze again. “I was supposed to kiss her at the top of the Eiffel tower, because she loves those awful love movies and I really, really like her Happy”

Peter started to tell him how Nick Fury had crashed his plan by changing the trip, how Beck had appeared from another universe and he had been fooled like a kid. How you had found a drone that proved his lies and had showed it to Peter, discovering his secret identity in the way. Peter avoided the details about how you had almost kissed in the bridge and how you had hug him for a while longer when he had jumped from that window; not knowing Beck was already at the hotel and had targeted you before Peter had the chance to do anything about it.

“It was all a trap. It – I-I fell for it. A-and he had her all the time, but I couldn’t… reach her” Peter tried to explain how the illusions had messed up with his head, and hadn’t let him save you. “Then – the train, I was hit by a train and I fell unconscious. I woke up before I called you”

“And that guy still has Y/N” Happy finished for him, and Peter nodded.

The shadow of you reaching for him, in Beck’s grasp, just before the train ran him over clouded if eyes. Peter wondered if you knew he was alive; you hadn’t known he was Spiderman until that night, and his powers were still some mystery for him sometimes. He wondered, too, if you were alive. If Beck wanted to, he could have killed you just after the crash.

But his ‘peter tingle’ told him you were still alive, with Beck, in case the plan had gone wrong and Peter came back. That was, probably, what scared him the post. That you would have to endure just an inch of what the illusions made to him.

Peter pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes and rubbed them until he saw white spots, and then looked up to Happy.

“I don’t know what to do, Happy” Peter wasn’t afraid of sounding weak, or childish, in front of him. The man sighed. “I just – I just want her back”

“You’re Spiderman. She counts on you” Happy told him with a small smirk, and his eyes were the most real thing Peter had seen since the fight with Mysterio. “You’ll figure something out”

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

That Flash had a public account with no self-preservation, where he announced himself the biggest fan of spiderman and uploaded the most embarrassing things, came in handy. Peter decided to take care of the suit while Happy drove them to London, where the students were and where he hoped Mysterio would be. Ned also knew about the fiasco of the monsters, and probably MJ did too, so they were probably a threat too.

The suit he was creating was nothing like the old one. He decided to go with the original colours, eliminating the blue and using only black and red. He added a few new webs designs he was working with Tony the last time in the lab, something similar to a parachute so that he could fly down from the plane, and a thicker cloth around his body so that he wouldn’t be defeated so easily.

Like last time. Where he had seen you for the last time.

Breathing through his mouth and giving Happy a hesitant thumb up, he decided to rip the band-aid at once, jumping out without looking back. Suddenly, he was surrounded by air, clouds and pressure. Peter fell through the sky like a crumb, right into the bigger mess he had seen in a long time.

A bus was in flames, flying in the sky and being torn apart like if it was made of clay. People were running everywhere, screaming and looking for their loved ones. As Peter went down, he could see more of the scenario; like Ned gripping Betty’s arm with one hand and leading MJ away with the other, or Mr Harrington trying to calm everyone down while screeching like a fire alarm.

Peter landed on the top of the bridge, hidden from plain sight but still in a good position to see everything above him. Like, Mysterio controlling the drones with a big helmet from inside the glass tunnel, while gripping your arm and dragging you around. He sucked in a breath as he quickly searched for any injuries. You seemed fine, wearing the same floral drees you had been wearing for the opera, then stained by grease and blood. Your hair, that had been pulled up, was obstructing your face as you tried to break free from Mysterio.

But you were alive, still having the will to fight against him, and Peter could almost laugh in relief. He didn’t waste much time in relaxing, instead going for the plan that he had made up in the short trip there.

“Happy?” he muttered against his earpiece. “I – Y/N is down there”

“That’s good, kid” Happy muffled voice came through the earpiece.  “You know the plan then. Turn off the earpiece and cause a distraction. I’ll be waiting on the ground, just bring her to me and I’ll put her to safety”

“Alright” Peter smiled shakily. For a moment, he hesitated. He knew he was far from just a kid, but he had really, really wanted to be a trip without any problem. Where he could talk about his feelings with you, and maybe kiss you. His hand trembled for a second; then he pressed the earpiece. “See you in a minute”

The lines of drones designed to protect Mysterio failed to detect Peter when he entered into the cloud, and the boy let his mouth hang open. There were, at least, one thousand drones flying around an open air, shooting and creating an illusion for the rest of the world. In the middle, stood the real Beck, talking angrily with someone and still holding your arm.

From where he stood on one of the drones, he could see some kind of wound on your ankle, that stopped you from moving freely. Peter gripped the end of the drone where he was resting with so much force that the mental bended under his fingers, and he had to stop himself before throwing everything through the roof. Instead of just going for Beck, he focused on the drones.

They seemed to be following a path. Move left twice, then right once, up and down three times. The plan was simple; destroy one of them so that Beck would be forced to check it out, and use the opportunity to lower you to Happy, who would put you in a safe place while Peter ended up the fight.

Peter decided to go with one that seemed lonely. It was probably in charge of something small, like the monster’s finger or his eye. He threw an explosive web to it and hid under the glass bridge when it exploded. From there, he could hear everything.

“No, I want the cape – what was that?” Beck turned around like a maniac, hissing venom into the earpiece. “Why the fuck has a drone exploded?! I said I wanted a perfect job this time!”

A unintelligible response came out of Beck’s helmet, too low even for Peter’s ear to pick up. He watched, from his place under a piece of metal, how his face became redder and redder until a vein popped out of his neck. It seemed that Peter was finally seeing Beck’s true face; a mad man that couldn’t control his emotions.

“I don’t care! I don’t – if this goes wrong, you’re dead! You hear me?! I’m gonna fucking rip you apart!” he threatened into the earpiece. Peter winced each time you were shaken around like a piece of rag, but forced himself to stay in place. “Like everything, I’ll go and solve it. But be fucking prepared for when I come back”

Beck took out the earpiece and threw it over the bridge, emitting a low grunt. Your lip trembled and more tears fell down your cheeks when his grip on your arm became more rough. Over the past few hours, you had cried, begged, yelled, insulted, sassed and said everything you could think of to the man. Still, the only thing you had received had been a nasty bruise on your cheek and a hard stamp on your foot that probably was broken.

“Now, listed to me” Beck kneeled in front of you and frowned. When he talked, spit hit your cheek. “You stay here. Quiet, still and being a good girl. If I find you an inch to the left, I’m going to throw you to the river tied to a drone. And that’s not gonna feel nice. You hear me?”

“Yes” you answered, knowing that if you didn’t he would only get angrier. “Yes, I won’t – I won’t move”

“I know you won’t” Beck scoffed, and inched closer. “But if by any chances certain spider boy comes around, you will stay put too. Because I don’t think his body would take two thousand drones shooting at him, alright?”

You nodded quickly and another sob rose up your throat. Beck got up and dragged you to the side of the bridge. He didn’t bother in tying you, because he had played with your mind enough times to know you wouldn’t move.

A drone appeared in front of him, simulating a small platform where he could step on. Beck spared you a final glare and drifted away into the mass of drones.

Peter, still hidden under the bridge, saw his chance and crawled up to where you were. He took his mask off with one hand and clenched his jaw. His body hurt and his spidey sense was screaming at him to leave, but he kept moving until he was besides you. He took a second to look at you thoughtfully; from head to toe, from how your hair was messy from being dragged and the way you hugged yourself.

It took him a while to move, because he could feel the panic attack rise to his throat, and the bile with it. He was tempted to turn to the side and empty what he had left in his stomach, but swallowed and gave you a hesitant smile. You didn’t move, neither, and he was afraid you thought he wasn’t real. Been there, done that.

“Hey” he whispered, and stepped – or crawled, since he was still in fours – forwards. “Hey, Y/N. It’s me”

“Oh my god” you squealed out, and unfolded the protective shell you had created around your body to put your hands on your mouth. “Oh my –“

“I know, I know” he stopped you, and looked quickly around to check Beck was still busy. “But I’m here. I’m – I’m real. And I can prove it! Ask me –“

“Oh my god, you’re alive!”

Peter barely could do anything before your body crushed into him. He wasn’t prepared for it, so he fell onto his butt and caught both of your bodies with his elbow. Swallowing the hiss of pain, he wrapped his free arm around your middle and hid his face on your neck.

Suddenly, he felt like a kid.

Spiderman wasn’t supposed to do that, but Peter let the first sob break through his throat and pressed you tighter against his body. Time was hot on your trails, and Peter knew that; yet he only took shaky breaths against your neck. You were talking, saying something about Beck, your class and the drones. It was all white noise, compared to his heart beating loudly against his ears.

You smelt like blood, sweat and Beck. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, because Peter was sensitive to them and, after hours of captivity, they weren’t nice. Behind them, there was also your natural smell, the one he found himself sniffling in class when you sat in front of him. It was there, just like Peter’s sanity, hanging by a thread.

Slowly, Peter pulled you back until your faces were only inches apart. He had to shift his gaze to see your features, and his lip shook dangerously. There were tears on his cheeks, and his eyes were glossy.

“I’m gonna get you out of here” Peter whispered. He didn’t want to sound weak, but it seemed that he was the one seeking your comfort. “I – Happy is down there, and he’ll take you to a safe place. I’m sorry… I couldn’t save you. Sorry.”

“It’s okay” you reassured him. “You’re saving me now, Spiderman.”

“But I couldn’t – “

“We can discuss it later” you cut him off with a small wet laugh. “I think I’m going into cardiac arrest if I spend one more second here”

Peter nodded once, twice and a last one more firmly. He got up and helped you to stand by his side, your ankle making your lean against him. Again, with just one hand, he put on his mask and jumped out of the bridge in a blink of an eye. Wind rushed past him like the familiar feeling he was used to, and he felt as if he was just in Queens, swinging back to his apartment after a rough patrol.

The occasional yelp from you and threat woke him up from his daydream.

He landed in an alley, away from the mess and destruction. Happy was waiting for you like the loyal friend he was, with a black car already on and a gun ready on his shelter. The plan was to run in the opposite direction, run by a hospital in case it was needed, and wait for Peter to go back home. It was a rushed plan, open to many problems and obstacles, hence the gun, but Peter didn’t have anything else. With a sigh, he unwrapped his arm from your waist and let you catch your breath.

“Peter – that was – we were, they were just seconds!” you smacked his shoulder lightly, and Peter didn’t have the heart to tell you it had been stitched in the ride there. “Why didn’t – I’m taking so many advantage of that.”

“We can… talk about that. At home” Peter said, voice muffled under the mask. He didn’t want to risk breaking down again, so he didn’t take off the mask. “I’ll see you there. I have, you know, to go back”

“I guess” you shuddered, and Happy honked. Neither of you cared. “Be careful”

“I will”

There went his plan, probably. The beautiful blue necklace he had brought you in Venice was probably destroyed in his backpack, wherever it was then. The kiss, shattered by an improvised kidnapping. His date, ruined by a mad murderer. And the girl he wanted to do all of that with, in front of him ready to go home.

Peter swallowed around nothing, because his throat felt dry.

“I, uh, we could do that again. No the swinging. The – the other part” Peter blushed under the mask, and you raised a brow.

“The part you got it by a train? Or the kidnapping?” you teased.

“No! No that’s – isn’t happening again. I promise. Never, ever again” Peter shook his head and raised his hands. “Like in a million years? Never. I’m sorry. Not that, it shouldn’t –“

Happy honked again, and both of you jumped a bit. He shouted something to Peter and signalled inside of the car and behind you. The place wasn’t ideal, but neither was probably kissing Spiderman. After all, you had just been kidnapped and Peter was going to risk his life for the sake of the humanity.

So nothing wasn’t ideal, but Peter wasn’t either, and that was where the magic of things laid.

There was a sudden breeze hitting the lower part of his face, and the mask rested uncomfortably against the bruises on his cheeks. Shivers ran down his spine and for a moment he was afraid, because his vison was being blocked because of the mask and his ears were covered. Probably a second before having a breakdown, he felt your lips on his.

They were soft but decisive, your hand cradling the back of his head. It wasn’t as good as what he had planned, yet he could live with that. Leaning forward and ignoring Happy’s indignant shout, he responded to the kiss. There were no fireworks or angels singings, and his body still hurt from the beating. Nothing was being solved by kissing, but he surely felt a lot better.

The kiss was awkward because of the mask, and Peter was too petrified to even think about removing it. One of his hands was resting on your hip, while the other just clenched and unclenched at his side. Your fingers cradled the baby hairs of his neck and he shudder, making you smile and push yourself tighter against his.

As quickly as it had come, it went away. You stepped back, lowered his mask and the world screamed for him again. Peter wasn’t sure, for a second, that it had been real; but then he saw the blush of your cheeks, the angry-proud smirk in Happy’s face, and the tingling on the tips of his fingers.

“Yeah, we can repeat this later” you said, and kissed his masked cheek. If he hadn’t had the mask, he would probably had been as red as it. “See you later, Peter”

Not the first date he had imagined, but he was fairly okay with it.

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sins of my youth. 001

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together. 

A/N: Hey!!! I'm definitely not giving up on LFTM, I've had this story whirling around my brain and it's been pulling at me for a while. Hoping I can slow down, care for myself, and juggle both fics at my own pace. Thank you guys for reading and for being so supportive. I hope everyone who enjoyed WTL also enjoys this fic, it's a totally different direction. I'm excited to share it! I'll tag warning in each chp like I always too. TW: Light bullying, hints at an inappropriate relationship between a teacher/student, and teenage jerks.

Chapter 1: Fast Times

   A blaring bell trilled. Lunch time. So close and yet so far. Scrambling high schoolers like zoo animals clamored into the cafeteria. Knocking shoulders and bouncing around. No one really cared about knowledge today, the last day of school before winter break began. 

   1984. Coming to a close.

   “Evie!” A hand rose to wave. One pink scrunchie around the elegant wrist. Heather Holloway. Cute as a button smiling there. Hands pulled headphones down to acknowledge her. Evangeline Fenny. Best friends since the sandbox and now seniors. “This stupid day is dragging.”

   “It’s killing me.” Evie whined to herself, settling her beat up lunchbox on the table. Red and blue pattern, scribbled all over with song lyrics in black marker. “Mrs. Stockard fell asleep at her desk, I wanted to die.”

   “She snores so loudly.” Heather sparkled when she laughed, sweeping her hair back into a high ponytail with her scrunchie. Evie held a mirror up for her to see out of habit. “Thanks.” It was particularly louder than usual. Teens pregaming the parties to come over the two week vacation.

   “Going skiing with the folks this year?”

   “No, they’re going up to the cabin and I’m staying home after Christmas.” Heather unpacked her lunch, carefully organizing it. Evie pulled a regular PB and J out, amused.

   “Sushi?”

   “My mom’s going through a phase.” Heather poured herself a bit of soy sauce and plucked up chopsticks.

   “Your rich is showing, Heath.” Evie giggled when a foot kicked at her under the table.

   “Trade you a piece for half the pear.”

   “Deal.” They switched. Evie tucked some unruly dark curls aside, sitting back.

   “So...there is a party tonight. Loch Nora. Bunch of schools.”

   “Which ones?” Evie’s brow rose.

   “Ridgemont will probably crash, but who cares. It’s winter break, we’ll go and have some fun then crash at my place. Eat chips, make fun of them, and pass out like we always do.” Heather bounced a little. “C’mon, Evie. I’ll pick you up and we can walk from my house.”

   “I’ll think about it.” That meant yes to Heather. She grinned, reaching across to pat her friend’s arm playfully.

   “It’ll be fun.”

   Evie just whined and crunched on her pear, brows scrunching. Parties weren’t the same since the incident. But, she picked the popular, social butterfly for her closest friend. 

   The two couldn’t have been any more different.

   Heather Holloway. Rich girl from Loch Nora befriending Evangeline Fenny, a Cherry Lane girl, in preschool. They switched beaded hair ties and the rest was history. Bonded over music and fashion. Heather was classically stunning as if she jumped off a magazine. 

   Students used to make snide comments. That Heather kept Evie around because she made her look prettier. Sweet Heather shut that down. Loudly. Whenever the subject came up. Evie Fenny was a bigger girl. Plush. Fat. It wasn’t a dirty word. She was a strange and pretty teen who carried herself too high to be bothered with comments.

   Water off a duck’s back was the saying.

   Used to be she hid herself under big sweaters, tunics, and flared jeans. But, that was before the incident. Afterward, she came to school with a new haircut. Louder makeup. Even louder, fitted clothing. Flaunted the hourglass and caught eyes on her hips swaying. Sat next to Heather at lunch as if nothing had changed. Red glossed lips only smiled and the student body took to her. Those who stayed angry burned alone.

   Thick skin, no pun intended.

   “If that asshole Tannen shows up, I’m dipping.” Evie decided with one breath. 

   “I’d say that I’ll protect you, but you made your point last year.” 

   Ah, the incident.

   “I’m never going to live that down.”

   “It was legendary.” Heather beamed, crushing her fist into her opposite palm. “Bam. Prick went down. My friend is Wonder Woman. Super Bitch.”

   Evie broke to laugh, eyes rolling.

   “Truthfully, I don’t recall it all.”

   That was a lie, she remembered every second of it. Sometimes her knuckles warmed at the thought.

   “I just...didn’t think you had moves like that. Your mom is basically Dolly Parton. You don’t even like violence. You squirm during horror flicks. You love your cat, your guitar, and all plant life...and you beat the hell out of Ridgemont’s golden boy asshole quarterback.”

   It did earn Evie some Hawkins’ fame. Ridgemont was their main rival. The Bulldogs. Football players found a soft spot for the teen.

   “Don’t tell my mom she’s Dolly Parton, that’ll go straight to her head.” Evie joked, popping her water bottle open to drink. Heather’s big eyes lifted behind her.

   A flood of cologne wafted before two fingers tugged a curl. Little harder than they should have. Water choked to spill onto Evie’s chest.

   “Whoops, you got all wet, Fenny.” A tongue clicked. Billy Hargrove slid around the table. All his glory. Heather plucked up a napkin to offer it.

   “Watch it, Hargrove.” She huffed down at herself. The yellow tee tucked into her jeans was soaked through.

   “Girls can’t help it around me, I guess.” He had one hand in his pockets and another cradling his silver lighter. Flicking it open and closed. Eyes narrowed. “Polka dots, huh. I had you figured for florals.”

   “You’re an asshole.” She covered her damp shirt and bra with her striped cardigan. Thick fall colors warmed her skin. Noted the fact that he'd thought about it.

   “Whatever you say, Ivy.” 

   Billy knew her name. They were neighbors. Unfortunately. Right down to sharing the same space between their bedroom windows. She’d had dinner at their house. Susan Hargrove was new and eager to make some friends and Ms. Fenny was eager to be friends with everyone. Perfect match.

   Evie glared up at him. Fucking Adonis.

   “Heather, you going tonight?” He ignored his neighbor and leaned over with one palm on the table, back to Evie as he sat down to flash that darling smile.

   “Maybe.” Heather gestured with her chopsticks.

   “I can work with maybe.” He acted like the girl behind him wasn’t there. Frankly, Evie was used to being invisible. It was better than being bullied. Most days. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

   “Maybe you apologize to my friend and say her name right.” Heather winked at him.

   “Who?” Billy stood and turned, mocked some surprise. “Oh. Evangeline. So quiet, I forgot you, chica.”

   She wasn’t sure if that was a jab at her mixed heritage or him just being a smartass. Billy rolled her name off his tongue like it was a joke. Like it wasn’t a real word. Blue eyes alight at her stony expression. Sly and alert. 

   The California transfer vibrated after leaving the basketball team before the season ended. Word was that he was persuaded to leave after some fight with Steve Harrington. Billy was a strange one too.

   Often, he seemed lax when he was alone like the world didn’t matter. Other days, he was rocking and quick on his feet. Hungry and itching for something. Anything. It was a scary look on such a pretty boy. You could never gauge where his mind was. Where it would go next.

   “Evangeline.” He sounded out again even slower. “Your mom lose a bet?”

   “It’s a poem.” She replied flatly, sitting back to cock her head at him. Billy snapped his fingers to point.

   “Sounds like the name of some chick whose man died in her arms.”

   She huffed at him, leaning in.

   “...That would be what the poem is about.”

   “Fucking depressing.” Billy tapped his chin. “I got it. I’m going to call you, Angel. I won’t forget that.”

   “You are not calling me-”

   “Trying to compromise with you, Fenny. You cast the first stone.” Billy flicked his eyes to Heather. “Bring your friend with you to the party, Heather. Some guys like angel cake.” He winked and slunk off to his band of merry assholes. This school worshiped him. Kissed the ground he walked on since he started in fall.

   “What a fucking slimeball.” Evie grumbled to herself, stuffing trash aside to ball it up. Thought about tossing it at Billy's big head. Heather gave this conflicted look as if to say, but he’s cute, right?

   “Ignore him.”

   “Bad enough his family moved in next to me.” They packed up their lunches. “God, I want a smoke so bad.”

   She didn’t keep the habit up just to save her singing voice. Her mom picked up cigarettes only after the divorce last year. Smoked out her window and hid it, but Evie knew. No judgment there. Better than other habits moms pick up after divorces.

   “I’ll pick you up at seven tonight?” Heather walked out with her after the bell rang.

   “Yeah, I’ll see you in fifth.” Evie turned to go to her locker and stuffed the lunchbox away. Grabbed a book to hurry to class. History. Three more periods left. Students fidgeted around her.

   “Hey, Evie.” Steve Harrington batted his eyes at her. Friendly enough these days after he left the popular cliche and broke up with Nancy Wheeler. Sometimes having your heart stopped on made you nicer. Not always. “You, ah, do the paper?”

   “All six pages.” Evie set it on her desk. “You?”

   “I made an attempt.” It was strange because Steve never gave her the time of day before this year. Maybe the guy was lonely. He tapped his pencil and the chatter quieted when their teacher walked in. Late as always.

   “Class, pass your papers to the front.”

   “Hopefully they don’t come back with red wine stains.” Robin mumbled behind her, one leg crossed up so she could draw on the rubber side of her sneakers. Evie caught a snort, taking the papers to pass them along. “I like the jacket.”

   “Thanks. New haircut?”

   “My own dad didn’t notice.” Robin beamed.

   “Psst, Evie.” A note flicked on her desk. Tammy Thompson. Pretty girl, kind of shy. “To Steve.”

   Evie considered herself a professional middle man for lovesick note passing. Discreetly, she gave it to Steve, head cocking. He furrowed his brow upon seeing it, but wrote back.

   Whatever the reply, it made Tammy’s shoulders fall.

   AP Biology was next. Teacher treated it like his kingdom and didn’t pose much of a challenge because he was disorganized as hell. Evie was relieved to share the class with Heather. 

   Billy, Tommy, and Carol also had it too. Hargrove bitched for a week about how the other science classes had no openings. Strange because he wasn’t an idiot. Still got his work in and maintained a B average. Probably due to his dad. Neil Hargrove seemed like a real hardass. And all of Cherry Lane had heard him and Billy arguing at some point.

   Evie might have also witnessed some more physical spats through the windows.

   She figured it was why Billy hated her. She knew something about him. Something he hid because it made him feel smaller. He caught her eyes once and barked nastily before taking off in his Camaro. A gust of smoke.

   She never brought it up. 

   Dads could be real assholes.

   “Watch the movie. Fill out the worksheet.” Their teacher was as ready for this day to be over as the students were. Lights went down. Yawns followed. Evie propped her elbow up on the high lab table she shared with Heather, doodling new lyrics between answering questions.

   A crumpled paper hit her hair. Stuck into brown curls. Heather turned back to glare at Tommy shrugging with a sleazy grin.

   He was no artist. Evie smoothed it for a wide, big lipped and breasted caricature of herself. She drew on it and scribbled a note back. Smiling sweeter when she flicked it at his chest. Carol and Billy leaned in on either side to see Tommy’s expression sour because Evie gave him nothing.

   “You got my hair all wrong.” She’d written. Fixing it for him.

   Billy snorted and turned back to defacing his textbook.

   “Bitch.” Tommy muttered to himself, tossing it away. Evie finished her sheet, dug for her compact to reapply a lip color. Caught Billy behind her. Intent on whatever vulgar drawing his mind was concocting. Blue eyes flicked like he’d been aware of her this entire time.

   The mirror snapped shut.

** ** **

   Study hall. Last period of the day. Most kids who had it were skipping out early during the hour. Slipping away one by one through the library. Evie was one of those kids. 

   “Leaving so soon, Miss Fenny?” The smooth as silk voice lowered, startled her enough to drop her notebooks and folders. 

   “Fr...Mr. Bowers.” Evie dropped before her English teacher standing so close to her. Second period. Been in Hawkins three years teaching the junior and senior classes. Fredrick Bowers. Dream of a man to all the teen girls. “Sorry.” She bit her bottom lip, eyes lifting to see him and his shadow blocking the light from touching her. 

   “No, I’m sorry, Evie. I figured you’d heard me coming.” Sky blue eyes centered on Evie there before he came to one knee. Helped her gather lose papers strewn about.    

   Mr. Bowers had a name and face all the teen girls drew little hearts around in pink gel pen.

   Evie thought she saw those same cartoon hearts bubbling up behind his back. Popping like gum. Styled toffee blond locks, trimmed mustache, and groomed side burns. A simple patterned shirt tucked into fitted slacks with the sleeves rolled up. Never a tie. Something groovy about him that stuck from the seventies. Mid thirties and hell of a smile.

   Evie tucked hair aside, displayed her blush in full view obscenely when he flashed those sparkly whites at her. Eyes crinkling.

   “I’ll warn you next time.” 

   Her heart plucked like a song when their fingers brushed. Dashing and broad. A Jane Austen character come to life. Enough to make any young girl melt. And how quickly she did.

   “Next time.” Evie gave this scoff. Pulling her notes close as they both came to their feet with hard intent eyes.

   "I wanted to give you something. A book to read over the break." He pulled it from his leather messenger bag and peered around.

   "An assignment?" Evie sparkled at him so he was lighter.

   "No, it's just because I believe you're so clever and mature. I think you'll read it with an open mind and we can talk about it like we talked about all the others. It's complicated material. I, ah, really shouldn't be giving you this book." He offered it. "But, there were quite a few I wasn't allowed to give you. After that chat we had over The Crucible. I'm just so fascinated by what you think."

   "Lolita. I know what happens in this one." Evie peered at the battered title. Rough paper between her fingers, it was clearly an old copy. She peered at his chest instead of his eyes. "We-"

   "Don't you miss talking? You know. Last year. Someone who knows what you're going through. I want all my students to be comfortable around me."

   "I am comfortable, we..." Evie glanced as someone passed far down the hallway.

   Bowers helped her after her dad left. A shoulder. A confidant. A crush that... She felt her heart close in on itself.

   "I thought you said we couldn't anymore."

   "I miss you." He whispered that. Lush and blunt. She barely heard it. Eyes snapped up.

   Someone missed her. Someone wanted to listen. Someone who saw her depth.

   His wife left him before he came to Hawkins. Evie learned a great deal about her too.

   "I won't tell, I never do." She hid it away into her bag, matched his tone. "We can...talk. Not here."

   "Good." He swallowed. "I just think you blossom under guidance and support. I always knew you were one of those girls."

   Evie blushed again. Eyes on her shoes. 

   “I wanted to say I was impressed with your paper as well. As always.” Fredrick gave her arm a pat and left his hand there. Fingers pressed into the knit fabric of her cardigan. His lip twitched. 

   “Good. That’s…I’m glad.” Evie’s eyes flickered over stormy blue ones, swaying. Lashes gave a dreamy bat. “I was thinking, ah, about you when I wrote it.”

   “Really, you should speak up in class more.” Fredrick gave her one subtle squeeze and dropped his hand. “All those funny poems you shared last year.”

   “My songs.” Evie corrected softer and he only smiled to nod.

   “Right.” An idle step backwards before he leaned over her. A great deal taller. The shadow crept over her eyes this time. “You have a Merry Christmas, dear. And speak up again in class, Evie. You know I love to hear from you.”

   A sensation like a fizzling sparkler glowed in her belly. Out her spine. Spread over skin.

   “I know.” She giggled at him, peering around. “Merry Christmas, Mr. B. We'll talk.”

   “Small town, I’m sure I’ll see you out and about.” A wink and he was gliding off. Shoulders back and chest perched high.

   “You might.” Evie swooned against her locker. Watched him go. Gasped a breath into her lungs. Swept all the clouds aside to fill her backpack with work. He made her feel so special, like no one ever could. 

   “Anyone...” She sang to herself, “who knows what love is...” Fingers plucked up a final book. Evie hummed and thought of small cartoon blue birds spinning around her head as she went into the restroom. Washed her hands and lingered to see her reflection.

   Evie was in a strange place. In and out of her skin. Torn between love and hate for her body.

   Usually, it just took a brave face. Her dad always used to tilt her chin and tell her to put on her bravest face before leaving home.

   She hoped the one she chose was convincing. 

   Her mom would always spin her favorite Bible or Dolly Parton quotes. Which helped on occasion even if she wasn’t sure which source the words came from half the time.

   A sigh. This was her flesh. She’d live in it as best she could. Dreamed herself into something better.

   Footsteps hurried down the hallway until the door shoved open. Humming cut.

   “Hargrove!” She gasped, dropping her messenger bag. “Billy, you can’t be in here!”

   “God damn it, Fenny. You again?” Billy skidded to hush her. Pressed them back into the wall. The heat of his body engulfed her frame, standing a good few inches taller. “Do me a fucking solid. Hide this for me.”

   Billy had no sense of boundaries because he was stuffing a baggie into her front jean pocket. 

   “What are you doing?” She seethed at him, smacking his arms off her to put some distance. “Get off me!”

   “Don’t say a word. Got it?” Billy lifted a finger with an intent look. Smelled of leather and his heavy cologne. Hairspray too. It all overshadowed the cigarette scent. He smoothed his tee out and turned to see the door. Scrambling like a spider, Billy jumped up on the toilet, threw his messenger bag outside, and pulled himself up. Wiggled his way out.

   Evie heard a thud and groan.

   “What the fuck?” She whispered, more so to herself as he disappeared. Hands pulled what was clearly concealed weed bundled up several times and bagged from her pocket. “Shit.” More footsteps before the door burst as she shoved it away.

   “You see that Hard-grove kid?” A thick accent asked. Security guy. Useless.

   “Uh!” Evie pulled her bag up. “Who?...This is the ladies room! Can’t a girl have a moment here?” 

   “Sorry!” He cringed away before she jumped into mushy period talk. It always worked. 

   Evie rolled her eyes and marched out to find Billy. Casual as can be, he tossed his bag into the trunk of his car and stilled to light a cigarette. Grumbling, steps hurried up the hill.

   “Asshole!” She tossed the weed at his chest, made him catch it awkwardly and stuff it into the trunk with a hiss.

   “Keep a lid on it, will you?” He slammed it shut. No one was around to see them.

   “Don’t do that shit again.” She pushed into him to go, Billy’s big hand wrapped around her wrist. Tugged her square into his chest. An unkind grin swept.

   “I had you figured, didn’t I? You didn’t say anything.” Billy blew smoke into the air, plucked the cigarette out to flick it with his free hand.

   “Let go.” Evie huffed. “I would have been in deep shit too for that.” She wiggled and pushed at his chest. 

   Billy flicked his bright eyes over hers. So brown they looked black in winter. He never noticed that she had a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks like he did. Pale for a girl with darker features. Indiana falls and winters must have taken the color right out of her. Looked like a lot of the mixed gals he knew back home. 

   Big curls. Soft and curvy. 

   Angry at him over something he did.

   There's no place like home, he figured.

   “You’re so weak.” Billy laughed at her. Took another drag. “They told me you freaked out on a guy last year.”

   “You want to be next?” She twisted away from him and turned. It wasn’t a real threat. He’s seen her tend to plants like they were humans. Feed neighborhood cats and nurse her own. Old black cat with not long left. Little fucker was always creeping him out from her bedroom window. Constantly staring with huge green eyes like it knew something Billy didn’t.

   “Babysit your own weed.”

   “You walking home?” Billy was relentless, voice lifting.

   Evie huffed and turned.

   “What, are you going to say I probably need the exercise? My bike chain broke.”

   “Christ, I was gonna offer a ride. Figured I owed you for saving my damn weed and my break. Not like it's out of the way.” Billy turned to open the passenger door. “Quit being a drag and get in. I don’t bite hard...unless asked.”

   “You’re such a creep.” She eyed him there. Wondered how he stayed warm in a tee, jeans, and leather jacket. “Not waiting for Max?” He gave this annoyed look.

   “She’s going out with her stupid friends, not my problem today.” Billy got in, gesturing. “At least close the door if you’re not coming. I went through the effort to open it for you.”

   “What a gentleman.” Sarcasm.

   Evie came back toward his car and debated it. Smelled like it might rain with the sky turning grey. And she really didn’t want to walk in these shoes. Rationalizing it, she slipped inside and shut the door. Settled her bag in her lap. Even buckled up. Billy revved the engine and skidded to speed out without a second glance.

   “You going to the party with Heather?”

   Evie peered at him watching the road with this hard look on his face. Ghosted a smile. Bingo.

   “You’re being nice to me to get to Heather, huh. You know you’re not the first guy to pull this. Could have just asked me about her.”

   Crystalline eyes flared up at her face.

   “What? Dorky chicks like you turn me on, too.” He replied rougher, not bothering to watch the road.

   “Wow. Spread it on thick, Hargrove.” She turned from him.

   “I always do.” He hit a hard corner. Christ, he drives fast. “I got a shot?”

   “She thinks you’re cute.” Evie shrugged. Far too used to this. Eyes slid to his profile. Wild curls still golden on grey days. The boy glowed. It was absolutely insufferable. Leaves whirled by, brown and dead. A smile crossed her face. “Listen. Since you’re saving me a walk. I’ll help you.”

   “Help me? I don’t need your help, I just wondered if she was gonna show.” He scoffed, turning on Cherry Lane.

   “You want to know what Heather likes. It’ll help you.” She crossed her arms, nearly flying forward when he screeched to a stop in front of his house. Billy shot her a look, filled with pride. “You got a pen and paper, bud?”

   He snatched her bag, tore a page from her notebook and dug into his glove box for a pen.

   Ass. She hugged it back to her chest.

   "Talk."

   “Okay.” A breath. “The thing about Heather is she’s a romantic. Jane Austin girl. Pride and Prejudice. If you can quote that just once like Mr. Darcy, she’s yours... Well? Are you writing?”

   Billy did a double take and huffed, grumbling. He actually marked it down.

   “Mr. Who?”

   “Your life amazes me.” She chuckled. “Darcy.”

   “Got it. Darcy. I’ll ask Susan about that shit, she’s a reader.” He muttered, tongue sweeping out before he scribbled. 

   “And she loves museums. First date ideas. Milkshakes. Cheese fries with jalapenos. Cheeseburger gal. Chinese from that corner joint. Always spicy. Easy picks.”

   “A girl after my own burning heart.” Billy felt her peer at him again. Lips lifting with this expression he couldn’t read. Blinked her big eyes and went on.

   “Definitely loves to snuggle in with something scary even though they freak her out. Must be a curiosity thing.”

   “Any excuse to get close to someone, I like it. This is gold, Angel, go on.”

   “You know, I think that’s all I got for you.” Evie turned to get out, sighing. That was just a little evil. “Billy.”

   “What?” He shut his door and turned from her.

   “Thanks for the ride.” She moved to go toward her house. “Knock ‘em dead.”

   Billy didn’t reply. Just watched her go into her house before he dug for another smoke.

   “Mom?” Evie called. “I’m home.”

   “I’m in my room, sweetheart!”

   Ramona Fenny was a spirited woman, went by Mona to the neighborhood. A girl of the 60s. Built like Dolly Parton with a pumped hairstyle to match in sleek dark brown, almost black. She worshiped the woman. Looked like she could have modeled atop a cake. 

   A church going girl who used prayer to get her through the divorce. Never pushed it on others, not even Evie. Too busy pushing other things. Like the free days she lost having her daughter young. She liked what worked in life and this worked for her. Liked the pretty side to things. 

   Mona was a sunny side up sort of mother.

   Best friends with Claudia Henderson as they both went through divorces which was not in God’s plan. Evie liked Dustin, she babysat him on occasion and he was a good kid. Bullied like her. 

   Mona owned the favored hair salon in town. Worked long hours with a team of women and ran a tight ship. Did hair for all the social elites so she knew everyone and all the hot gossip. And did she love that detail the most. Evie helped out with reception during vacation time. Liked the extra cash.

   “I was going to go to Heather’s later, there’s a party.”

   “Oh, have fun, baby.” She pushed her kid to go out. To live. To be smart. Never asked her to call. Not out of trust for Evie, she couldn’t be bothered. Never imagined her daughter would be up to mischief.

   If only she knew.

   Sometimes, Mona keyed in when it suited her. Understood when Evie’s likes and dislikes changed. When she asked to not go to church anymore because it didn’t help her after her dad walked out. Ramona was understanding as long as you didn’t bring up things like depression and anger. There always had to be a way out. Turn the other cheek.

   Evie knew her mother always thought the best.

   “Great.” Evie crossed to steal the hair brush, helped her mother out with the teasing. Dyed rich and dark locks that used to be a mousy brown. Dark eyes like her daughter. Evie didn’t look like her father with his brighter features. Her lush hair and russet eyes. Thick brows. “You going out? All dressed up...”

   “Just into town, couple of errands.”

   That was something that changed a week after her dad moved out. Mona’s style revamp. She was a woman of the sixties and seventies and that came back full force. Styled and pumped up like she was walking out of a Nancy Sinatra music video. Men around town noticed it and the woman certainly speculated. 

   But, her daughter had a style change too after the incident so it must have run in the family.

   “Better?” Evie eyed the glittery rings sitting in a ceramic dish. They looked like gumballs there.

   “Touch of hairspray and I’ll be right as rain.” Pink manicured nails came up with the can. “Take cover, baby.”

   “Got it.” Evie disappeared in a waft of spray. Stole an ice cube from the freezer to crunch it out of this habit she picked up when dad was gone. Cool and melty between her fingers before she swallowed it down. Felt the bulge tense all down her throat. Another followed. Teeth straining to crack it like glass. The chunks went down a little less smooth as she looked for real food and shut the fridge instead.

   Evie went into the bedroom to see her old cat on the pillow. His head lifted. Skinny and balding. Blind in one eye.

   “How’re we doing, my handsome boy?” Evie dropped her bag and crossed to pet him. Purrs erupted, whiskers twitching. “Bourbon, my darling.”

   A scratch of a meow rasped.

   “Yes, I love you too. I’d kiss you if my lips weren’t done up.” She smacked her lips and stood. “Outfit.” Clothing pushed around. Her room was a small, intimate space. Few pictures and purple curtains. Desks covered in song lyrics, trinkets, and needle felting projects.

   Evie held up garments to the cat, but he was no help. Just purred there like a motor boat. Settled on a black top with some sparkle and a magenta wash denim jacket. Jewelry was a must, she preferred earrings that were huge acrylic hearts. Bourbon had gotten into the window to watch the window across the way. 

   Billy wandering shirtless and damp. Muscles red and bulging like he’d done a quick work out

   “Yeah, not today, my sweet.” Evie plucked the cat from the window and reached to close the blinds. Billy caught her. Winked and licked his lips slower. She made a face at him. Utterly loathing and not impressed at his peacock way of navigation. “Ew." 

   The blinds snapped down, leaving Billy to laugh there. Evie carried her purring cat out, chiding. 

   "Don’t make his head any bigger than it already is.”

~~~~

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