#(whispers): yeah so my mom fell off the wagon after 18 years at her fucking work party and this is basically just what my day was

[thefreakandthehair]

(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k

content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags

“My dad called.” 

Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction  wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now? 

It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son. 

Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust. 

Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong. 

“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself. 

“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.” 

Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight. 

“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging. 

“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!” 

His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.

“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off. 

He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can. 

But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.

“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”

Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.” 

“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks. 

“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?” 

Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace. 

It’s only then that Steve speaks. 

“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”

Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them. 

“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree. 

“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge. 

Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen. 

“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”

“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”

Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain. 

“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow. 

“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?” 

“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”

Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him. 

“Definitely.”

The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.

There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter. 

[faangirl101]

Reunited, volume one, Tom holland x reader

REUNITED MASTERLIST

Pairing: Tom holland x reader

marvelousimaginesforyou asked: Hi! Can you Write a Tom Holland Imagine where the Reader and him met when they were twelve and he was fifteen, they haven‘t seen each other since, then they come on set or meets him and the others at a Bar, and it becomes obvious that he trinke they’ve become very hot (Reader 18 Tom 21) and the Reader thinks the same about him and the other actors Tease Tom about it until he asks the reader out?

Author note: I hope you like it, if you want to be on the taglist message me and stay cool. Sorry for grammer btw

“How did you even get a job there?”, Iza asked while grabbing the cigarette package from her back pocket. The smile covering my face the whole day just grew “pure accident, i was walking past my old teacher, you know miss Andrews, and she told me they were hiring extras to play in this movie. Her husband is shooting this huge movie,  for marvel”. Iza smacked her lips together “wow, big shot, how much to you get”. I shrugged looking past the rooftop at the sky painted in purple and blue. “You know”, Iza brought a cigarette to her ajar lips “i think this is a big opportunity for you”. I roll my eyes even if i can't help but to feel my heart beat harder “come on, Izzy, its not like i have a line”. She protected the flame of the lighter with her hand as she lit her cig. “I know”, she dragged in a sharp breath of the smoke “but all actors start small”. I rest my head on top of her shoulder as i smack my heel against the wall beneath me. I shrugged again as i dragged in a breath of her shirt. Smoke and the free peppermints from her work. “I'm excited for you”, Izzy dropped the small amount of paper from the cig that was left. I watch it wander around the air like a leaf stuck in a storm, before being put out and swallowed by the ground under us. “Yeah”, I yawned as i buried myself deeper in her shoulder an closed my eyes “you should”. She chuckled and brought a string out of my face. And with her hand stroking my hair, i fell asleep there on the rooftop in my best friends arms.   

  “Tom?”, i asked in surprise “is that you?”. Tom chuckled, his hand stroking down his spider man hoodie “the one and only”. I yelped out of happiness and wrapped my arms around his neck. He smelled like i remembered, like nana's homemade chocolate chip cookies and the axe spray he stole from his dad. “I thought”, i stammered as i met his brown eyes “i thought you were moving before summer break”. He smiled, shoving of the aperture  between his front teeth “My mom said we were going to stay for summer break, Spend the last summer with nana before moving up state”.  A sadness hugged my heart tightly again, making it almost hard to breath. I tried to hold back tears as i ran into his arms again “i.. i don't want you to leave, Tommy, please don't leave”.  He buried his face in my braided hair, pretending he didn't have a wetness threatening behind his eyes as well. He was fifteen for god's sake, he wasn't supposed to cry about…  a twelve year old girl…. Even if it was y/n, his nanas neighbor  that he grown to love since the first time he met her. Well he didn't like-like her, that would be weird, but she was like a sister to him in the end of the day. “Trust me”, he whispered against her new pierced ear “i don't want to leave… but we are always going to be friends… We can send letters!”. I nod, still afraid to let the hug go. We only had summer break together until he was gone… maybe he would visit nana once in a while, but he was probably not going to wanna hang out with me when he turned 16. I was still just a kid in his eyes. A tear slipped down my cheek, wetting his hoodie “please don't stop liking me”. He kissed my forehead sweetly “never”.

“Big day”, i mumbled or myself as i walked into the huge building. I was mentally preparing myself. I just turned 18, just graduated, just rented a small apartment with Izzy and just got my first legit small job. Well, it was only for like a week, but was still bigger than anything i had before. I just couldn't mess this up, i wouldn't… right? “All extras, get to the building c”, i hear a man voice echoed through the speakers in the corner of the building. People are moving hurried around be, dragging around costumes and wagons. My heart was beating loud in my ears as i felt anxiety grow in my throat. Where the fuck was building C then? I should ask somebody. “Excuse me, sir”, i mumbled to one of the huge guys at the building centre “building c?”. He smiled at me, turning his entire face to a baby's one as he pointed behind me. “Thank you so much!”, i gave him the nicest smile i had as i grasped on to the bag at my side. Everything was going to be fine, nothing was going to go wrong. I tried convincing myself as much as i could while trying to control my trembling hands. “Are you an extra?”, someone asked behind me and i turned around. A small girl, at least a head shorter than me, smiled at me. I nodded as my mouth suddenly felt to dry to speak. “That way” she nodded against a big group of people sitting at benches put up like a square in the middle of the room. “Thanks”, i whispered with barely even moving my lips as i moved towards the benches. It calmed my rapid heartbeat when i saw that everybody was equally nervous as me, bobbing their legs upside down and looking around with flickering eyes. I sat down, crossing my legs while slowly leaning back.There was a lot of people here, most of them around my age, and i suddenly felt more calm. I blended in here, everything was going to okay. It passed a good half hour of me scrolling through my phone while biting my lip nervously. Another 10m minutes passed and i could almost taste everybody's anxiety in the room. Finally, after 10 more minutes, the short girl stopped in the middle of the square before clapping her hands together. The sudden sound was very effective as the entire room fell quiet. “So”, her voice was to dark for her appearance “you are all extras here today. We will tell you later what you should do, but first we should move to where the shooting is taking place. Come with me”. The entire group of people, which most have been at least 30, got up in a hurry. I grasped onto my bag next to me before throwing it over my shoulder. This was going to be awesome. 

“Here”, The short women, who now was wearing a headset covering half of her head, stuck her hand out to me “you there, are you okay with saying a line?”. i felt eyes being turned to me as i swallowed thickly. I had to jump on this opportunity but i… i was honestly scared i wasn't going to be able to speak normally with the lump in my throat. “Yeah”, i smiled, biting the inside of my cheeks hard enough to draw blood. “Great”, she clapped her hand together “all you have to do is hold this handbag and that guy over there will take it from you. All you have to say is ‘hey! he’s robbing me’ and then the cameras are going to be off you so you don't have to so anything. Spiderman is going to return and give back your bag, look thankful and say ‘thanks’. Is that clear? can you do that”. I nodded a little to fast as she looked me up and down judgemental. There's something about the small women i couldn't put my words on. She was like a small flower, delicate and all that until you try to touch it only to get poisoned. “In positions people”, she made a circular motion with her finger as i saw her backside disappear behind the camera crew. My knuckles was turning white from holding the hand bag tightly in my hand. Come on Y/n, its one line, no big deal. “Aaaaaaand”, i heard a clear click, a metal sound falling back into place “shoot”.Calm. I'm calm. With her signal, like dropping meat in front of an animal, i move. Calm. Moving camly. Everything is going to be alright. I could feel the movement of the camera as it followed my posture, but i decided to ignore it. My body was ripped into the action when the man grasped onto my hand bag. My sweaty fingers slipped, leaving me tumbling forward. He pulled a lot harder than i thought, leaving my shoulder arching in pain. Surprised, i turned around to look at everybody around me, did anybody honestly see how hard he pulled. I opened my mouth, stammering over my words “he…. “. I looked back to where the man stood to see him standing outside the shot, his eyes urging me on. Right… the scene. “Hey! he’s robbing me”. My voice come out raspy, almost grabbed in panic as my mouth falls open mostly for effect. Then all the pressure drops from my shoulders as the camera rolls out of my view  to follow the “robber”. My hands are shaking, my lungs pumping our adrenaline to my goosebumped covered skin. Calm. Everything was going to be fine. All panic come rushing back in waves when the camera is turned back on me, standing in the middle of the street. I bet my cheeks are blossomed, maybe even swollen in a blush. In front of me was spiderman. Well, a full grown man, dressed in a awfully tight spiderman costume. i wanted to laugh out loud as i desperately bit my lip to hold it back. I mean, the guy looked good, from where i was standing. Muscles, he probably worked hard for, was clear through the material, and he had a great ass… I blushed even more. Jesus y/n“Miss!”, the man, who actually sounded more like a boy spoke “your bag”. That voice. It was like putting a song on a wrecked vinyl…. i knew the song but it wasn't completely like i remembered it. I couldn't even put a  title on the “song”. I must have seen him in a movie, somewhere, It was familiar, on the back of my tongue desperalty urging me to remember. But nothing. My mind was blank as i continued to stare at the costumed dressed guy. Oh shit, i almost forgot the scene i was shooting. “T-thanks”, i stammered as i reached out for the bag. My hand accidently come in contact with his. The rough material of the suit rub against my fingertips as i look down to hide my blush. He nods to me, stays for a moment in hesitation, then he start to move. I drop the breath weighting on top of my chest. Finally this scene is over. “Wait”, i called without even realizing i opened my mouth “Who are you?”. The guy in the suit turn his head over his shoulder. I can almost see his eyes squeezing shut behind the mask. “I'm ….. um spiderman”, a smile, i guessed as i saw his mask twitch “your friendly neighbourhood spiderman”. I stand still in shock. Was he one of those actors who actually thought he was his character? or was he…My thoughts was interrupted by the small women yelling “and cut”. Cut? oh no. The scene wasn't finished, and i just ruined it with all my “who are you” talk. The guy wasn't weird he was just doing his job and kept character.  The women moved towards me in harsch steps, i felt like a kid in trouble when i saw her eyes. I couldn't judge her emotions, it looked like it was just a mix of everything turning to nothing. “That trick you pulled”, she arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms “not cool, You're just and extra and do as i say, okay? but it was good, and we don't have to reshoot the scene. For this time”. I was stuck in disbelieve and confusing as she leaves me behind here. This was all too much for me to process.

I collected my things, my fingers still shaking. I had to start controlling my emotions, jesus.I was 18 and wanted to work as an actor but couldn't even handle being an extra. I was disappointed in myself, really. “Hey”, the spiderman dude came in view. I sighed and reached up my hand to shake some life in my hair “okay, dude, I know i messed up the scene. M´sorry, i was nervous”. I swear if he looked surprised under the mask, as it moved with his emotions. “Oh no, i think you were great”, he said, his voice clinging in a strong british accent “Mrs Morswin can be quite harsc, if you ask me”. I look him up and down now when i have time to really study him. The suit was tight enough to be spandex, hugging his curves in a way making my blush turn a grisom color. “Thanks”, i let my head roll to the side “You're british”. The way i said it came out as an question even if it was a statement. He nodded before taking something that sounded like a nervous breath “This is a super weird question but do you go to  Bronx High School of Science? I regonzie you, love”. The nickname makes butterflies start to crowd in the depths of my abdomen. I shook my head before biting my lip “london?”. His hand landed on top of the table next to me as he leaned closer to me “southwest of london”. I can't hide my surprise as my my jaw dropped “no way? me to, Im from wimbledon”. I hear a gasp from under the mask as he practically fall from his stance in surprise “That's close to where i grew up ,kingston upon thames.  Wimbledon College, you?”. I smile and throw the bag over my shoulder once again “Ursuline High School, i used to have friends from Wimbledon college”. He leans even closer, and i can practically feel his body heat radiant over to me “no way, who?, maybe i know them”. I open my mouth, just about to answer his question when a loud yell interrupts me. “Tom! we need you on set”, Mrs  Morswin, the short womens, voice echoes through the hall. Tom? Memories hit me like a bus, causing me to grab tightly on to the table for support. The words that been racing at the tip of my tongue finally makes sense. The Spiderman dude was freaking Tom holland. I practically grew up with this guy in front of me. Tom freaking Holland.”Tom”, i whisper for myself but he dont hear it as he turn his head to answer the women. Before i can control my actions i reach out to slowly grasp onto his mask. His head turns to me in surprise as i with shaking fingertips slowly drags the mask of the boys head. The face under the red spandex is painted in shook. His brown curls are finally released and bounce down the side of his face. A pair of familiar chestnut eyes makes eye contact with me and it looks like, both of our eyes blow up in regonizment. “Tommie?”, i shriek, my voice breaking of excitement. “Y/n?”, He asked, still unsure like if he really can't see its me. My heart aches and i can practically feel tears coming. tom holland got pretty, really pretty. His eyes was the same, glistening with joy in a childlike way. But he rest of him? got so much better. The space between his front teeth was long gone and ws now a white perfect smile. His body, which i already kind of studied through his suit, got ripped. His abs was well visible through the tight material as well as the bugle in his pants. I never thought the day where i was attracted to my childhood friend would come but, here we are. I step into his arms, the suit rubbing against my tank top. My head rests on top of his chest, right under his shoulder. He smells like…. like cologne and…. nanas cookies. He still smells like nanas cookies. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, my arms wrapped around his body prisoning it close to mine. “Y/n”, he mumbles as he embrace me and breath out the breath he's been holding since the removal of his mask. “You still smell like nana's cookies”, i mumble, not even sure why i said it out loud. He lets out a breathless laugh, his entire body vibrating against mine. “bloody hell”, his hand caress my spine through my shirt “i miss those”. Even if my body screams in disappointment i let go of his warm body. We both look in eachothers eyes and for a moment it doesn't feel like its been 6 years since the last time i saw him”. He smiles at me, an adorable smile which lights up his entire face. “Tom”, i look him up and down even if i know he sees it “you got ripped, lad”. He laughs again, purely just like when we were kids “yeah, the bollock up in  marvel want me to look like the bloody rock. And you… y/n, you look really…. gorgeous”. A blush, the strongest one today, took over my face and well…. my entire body. I smiled, showing my teeth at the same time. “Well”, i look down at my feet “it's been six years”. “yeah”, he muttered under his breath while weighting forward and backward on his heels. We stood there, in a silence so pushing it felt like i was just becoming smaller and smaller ever second passing. “well”, he finally broke the silence “i have to go, have another scene to shoot for today. But, here, put in your number”. He fished up his phone from his back where he'd been hiding it. He reached it out for me after in a hurry unlocking it. I saw the background he had of him and a blue staffy. I loved pitbull dogs. And i loved dudes with dogs, so this was just great. I took the phone from his and “accidentally”, touched his hand in the process. From the back of my mind i tapped down my phone number under the contact “y/n, cute girl from your nanas next door”. He chuckled at the name as he closed the phone with the familiar clicking sound. “So”, he smiled one last time “i hope i'll see you around?”. I nodded, completely lost for words. He nodded one last time as he started to walk away. I let out the nervous breath i'm been holding for the passed seconds. Was i really over here catching feeling for a guy i haven't talked to in 6 years. I saw the posture of his spiderman suit stop, standing its place. Then, in the matter of seconds, so fast i can't understand what's happening, he's back in front of me. “I missed you y/n”, he mumbles, his eyes flicking over my face likes he’s savouring every detail. The last thing he does before taking off down the hall is leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on top of my forehead. Then… with that i see him disappear from my sight, getting smaller and smaller like an ant. My hand automatically end up on my forehead where Toms kiss was placed. My finger trace the mark of his lips as i can feel my heart beating faster. I was falling in love with Tom holland, and there was absolutely nothing i could to about it.