#3am delirium

[fandom-kiddo]

A/N: ok I pinky swear I will write all your requests but I wrote this in a senioritis daze to make myself feel better. I hope y’all enjoy it!

CW: swearing, Tess and Joel have an irreconcilable fight, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, mentions of known character deaths, grumpy but soft spot for you, female reader, AFAB geared pet names, reader is a crybaby but we love them!(self indulgent if u squint)

Cg! Joel Miller X Little! Fem Reader

Joel didn’t know about your regression until coming up from a run earlier than expected and finding you on his floor in the living room, babbling happily as you played with old hot wheels. He looked in disbelief at your sock footed figure wearing an old t shirt of his and tiny shorts. You look notice of him after a minute, looking up and eyes growing wide. You began to cry and stumble over apologies with a lisp, backing away until you found yourself almost in the corner of the apartment near the radio.

Joel’s eyes softened as he approached you softly and carefully. “Hey little lady, let’s come out of that dirty corner hm? Come here, it’s alright.” His gruff voice said comfortingly. You looked up in wonder, crawling towards him gently and slowly. He crouched down, opening his arms to you. You went a little faster, letting Joel pick you up into his burly arms. Joel thanked whatever god there was that he knew what the hell this was from taking that psych class in college before outbreak day. He held you on his hip, running a hand through your hair gently.

“Hey little one, how old are you right now?” He asked gently. You looked away shyly and held up three fingers. He smiled and placed a soft peck on each finger, eliciting a giggle from you.

“You’re a tiny little bub, okay you wanna take a nap together or do you want me to make something for you?” He asked, smiling. A tiny part of you adult brain thought back on the fact that this is the only time, pretty much ever that you had seen Joel not scowling while awake.

“Uhhh daddy make foods?” You asked, looking up at him. His heart melted at the name and he grinned.

“Sure thing kiddo, I can make you something to eat, How’s grilled cheese sound?” He asked. You nodded happily, resting your head on the crook of his neck, inhaling the distinctly Joel scent of pine, soap, and earth. He sung a song that was stuck in his head softly. You recognized it pretty quickly, humming happily with him to the tune. So there you both were, your head resting on his shoulder as you hummed along with Joel singing Little Girl in Bloom by Thin Lizzy.

You sucked you thumb softly before Joel scolded you slightly. “No honey that’s yucky, you got a pacifier, darlin?” He asked sweetly. You shook you head, little tears rubbing down your cheeks softly as your eyes screwed shut and you tried not breathing to not sob.

Joel quickly set you on the counter, taking off your grilled cheese so it didn’t burn before coming up to you and stroking away the tears with his large, calloused thumbs. He briefly thought your resembled a cherub when you were this small. “Sugar you gotta breathe, come on darlin, breathe for daddy, it’s alright, I can grab you one or a teether honey bee, but you gotta breathe” he said, trying to breathe audibly to have you copy his breathing. You let out a sob as you began breathing, looking up at him as you kept sobbing.

“Good job honey bee, good girl, cmon honey now you gotta calm it down, breathe with daddy” he took a deep breath in, and a deep breath out “cmon babygirl, follow daddy” he encouraged, rubbing your arms firmly and comforting as he began grounding you, your breathing eventually beginning to bring you back down, copying Joel. Joel let out a sigh of relief.

“Good girl, so so well for daddy. You can’t just quit breathing on me honey, it’s okay to cry, it’s not okay to stop breathing, alright? You scare me more with no breathing before ever scaring me with some crying, okay darlin?” You nodded softly, crying slightly and frowning, rubbing your eye roughly.

“Hey, hey it’s okay honey, you just did what you thought was right, no need crying over spilt milk, darlin, we’re both learning, okay?” Joel told you lovingly, kissing your temple.

“Sorry daddy, m didn’t mean to scare you.. I jus gotta be tough or I get hurt” you said softly, lip wobbling.

If Joel’s heart wasn’t feeling cracked already, you broke it.

“Why you say that honey? Who told my little girl that?” He asked, carding a hand through your hair. You shook your head, biting your lip hard.

“Darlin, who said it” he asked, trying to keep levelheaded.

“She’s gonna get in trouble if I tell daddy, m don’t wanna be bad or mean” you said, whimpering.

“It’s okay, you gotta tell daddy these things honey, who’s she?” He asked softly, despite the rage he felt coiling like an angry diamondback in his gut.

“was um.. was ‘ess” you said shyly, curling up on yourself. Joel was speechless. His best friend? He could see you retreating into yourself as you curled in on yourself.

“Okay, thank you for telling me, sugar, let’s get some food in your tummy hmm?” He asked. You nodded softly, Joel restarted the stove and finished cooking your grilled cheese before putting it on a plate and cutting it into four for you. He kissed your temple and helped you into a chair at the bar in his kitchen, letting you eat.

“Daddy eat?”you asked, worried. He shook his head.

“No, daddy hasn’t eaten yet.” He said lovingly, smiling softly.

“Daddy eat wif me?” You ask, feeling smaller. He smiled, wondering to himself how he got so lucky to have such a caring little.

“Alright darlin, let daddy whip myself up one real quick sugar” he peppered your cheeks in kisses and made you giggle. He swears it sounds like a porcelain dinner bell. He smiles fondly, making his quickly before plating it and joining you at the kitchen bar. His was just cut into two. He ate it next to you, you leaning your head into your caregiver as you ate.

“Daddy mad?” You asked softly, eating your square of grilled cheese.

“Not at you darlin, never at you” he said in between bites. He leaned into you slightly.

“Daddy mad at ‘ess?” You asked shyly. He nodded slightly.

“Why did she tell you that, sugar? You know?” He asked gently.

“M was crying cos I was worried n missed you when you went on the run before last n it took longer than it should n she got mad at me for crying n said “stop crying. In this world you gotta be tough. You’re not tough, you’re gonna get hurt or get yourself killed.” N I kept crying cos I was worried n she scared me more n she slapped me..” you said sadly, tiny tears rolling down your cheek. Joel had a new found anger that coiled in his chest like a pissed off rattler at this information.

“Darlin, the only time you can’t cry is infront of the infected. Only gotta be tough until the infected aren’t gonna try and hurt you honey bee. In the QZ or away from infected it’s okay, if daddy says you gotta be tough that’s the only time it’s not okay, okay?” He asked, wiping away tears.

“Mkay daddy” you said finishing your grilled cheese together.

———-

“What the hell is wrong with you Tess?” Joel asked angrily after going to Tess’ apartment.

“What the fuck are you on about now, Joel?” She asked, frustrated.

“Why the fuck did she think that crying is a death sentence? She tried not breathing so she wouldn’t cry until she was getting blue in the face and I had to pull her out of a fucking panic attack Tess!”he said angrily. Tess looked at him and scoffed.

“It’s not my fault the idiot quit fuckin breathing, Joel. I told her to stop crying the run before last because me and you both know that stupid shit gets you killed with the infected.”Tess said coldly.

“She’s not an idiot, let’s get that straight. She might be a crybaby, Tess, but she’s my crybaby. It might get her hurt outside of the QZ around a fucking clicker, but not in here. She thought it wasn’t okay to cry at all. That’s who she is, she’s innocent and sensitive and that’s what I love about her. She doesn’t need you filling her head with this poison telling her not to be herself unless she wants to die. Fuck you, Tess.” Joel seethed.

“Now you love her? Cut me a fucking break Joel. She’s a crybaby and pretty much useless. She can’t handle this fucking world and thinks crying is the fuckin’ solution.” Tess sneered, scoffing slightly.

“Yeah I do love her Tess, and you ain’t got even an iota of right to tell her that kinda shit!”Joel yelled at her.

“What, you think you can save her? Like you were some fucking Clint Eastwood? Like your so good at saving people? Like you saved Sarah-“ Tess jeered.

“Don’t you dare fucking bring her into this! How fucking dare you even begin trying to bring her into this? I confide in you about shit and that’s what you do? What about your husband? Or your kid? I’m the fuck up? I thought we were fuckin’ friends Tess. And another thing, you lay a fucking hand on her again, and I’ll saw it off myself. Your not my fuckin’ friend. You’re fuckin’ dead to me.” Joel seethed like an angry rattlesnake, turning and storming out out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Joel stormed down the stairs, wiping his eyes. He couldn’t believe someone who he called his best friend would stoop as low as to attack his biggest inner demon. He felt bad about it, but she struck that nerve first. He shook his head and instead thought about you, willing himself to find his way back to you as he went through the tattered streets of the QZ.

————-

Joel walked back home, buying a pacifier and a few other little things with his ration cards. He walked up the stairs to find you in his apartment, this time wrapped up in one of his flannels, curled up in bed.

“Did my little honey bee get sleepy? Aw hon, how about you and daddy take a nap together hm?” He asked. You nodded sleepily and reached for Joel. He cooed and toed off his boots and changed into sleep shorts and a worn shirt. He picked you up and got into his bed, pulling a thick blanket over both of you. You remained latched onto him, nose nuzzled into his neck.

“Missed daddy, didn’t wanna cry” you said softly. He smiled softly.

“I was only gone an hour babygirl” he chuckled softly, swiping hair away from your forehead and kissing her forehead.

“M know bu still missed you” you said, nosing at the hollow of his collar bone, wrapping your arms tighter around his middle. He rubbed your back affectionately, holding you tighter.

“If it makes you feel better, sugar, I missed my girl too” he smiled softly. You giggled softly, a part of you fluttering at the pet names. My girl, baby girl, darlin, sugar, little lady, my little honey bee, mine. You almost cried at the pure care and love Joel gave you. You hadn’t even noticed the tears on your cheeks until Joel felt the tears on his neck.

“Why are you cryin, my little honey bee?” He asked sitting up slightly, looking down worriedly.

“Happy tears, Jus’ care so much for me, I’m jus’ so lucky s’all” you said through your wavering voice and sniffles to accompany it.

“You’re my girl, that’s my job, little lady” he smiled fondly, wiping away your tears. You placed your hand over his, placing a delicate kiss to his palm. He cooed and peppered your eyes in little kisses, making your little sniffles turn to giggles.

“Y’know I got ya some gifts while I was out”he said, dragging his knuckles lightly over the back of your arms.

“Daddy got gifts? F’r me? Why?” You asked curiously, looking up at him.

“Just wanted to, sugar” he said softly, a lopsided smile gracing his lips.

“Can I see em?” You asked, nibbling on your thumb.

“Yeah we can go look at em honey, cmon” he said, picking you up as he got up, carrying you to the living room where a brown satchel laid on the table. He set you down on the couch, you reaching for him. He chuckled softly”m right here, darlin, daddy’s not going anywhere.”he said comfortingly, giving you a swift kiss on your temple. You giggled happily, watching as he grabbed the bag. He pulled out a pacifier, handing it to you. You gasped happily, flapping your hands excitedly.

Joel smiled, pulling out a teether, handing it to you. You squealed in excitement. He chuckled softly, pulling out a bottle and sippy cup with Elmo and big bird on it, respectively. Little tears came to your eyes with the fond memories of your childhood when watching Sesame Street.

“Thank yous s’much, daddy” you sniffled, hugging his toned arm.

“No problem, sugar, hold the tears honey bun, I still got another gift for my sweet girl” he said, kissing your forehead.

“‘Nother one?” You asked curiously, Joel hummed in conformation.

Joel pulled out a handmade stuffed animal one of the other ladies in the QZ made. It was a liitle white lamb with a pink ribbon on the neck. “I saw it and didn’t think you had any stuffed animals, and it reminded me of you so much I had to get it for my little lamb” he said affectionately, giving you the stuffed lamb.

You really we’re crying now, grabbing your stuffed lamb and holding it close. You began getting into his lap, burying your face in his chest as you cried.

“Thank you’s s’much, i love it all” you cried, holding onto him so tight, like you were scared he’d disappear. He hugged you tightly, holding you in his burly arms.

“You’re welcome, darlin, you like em?” He asked, running a hand through your hair.

You nodded”I love em, daddy” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek. He smiled, thumbing away your tears.

“Okay darlin I think we’ve had enough excitement that a nap is in order, you want your pacifier?” He asked.

You smiled, nodding happily as he put the pacifier in your mouth. You clicked the silicone against itself, getting used to it. He smiled at you, rubbing your cheek affectionately. You leaned into the feeling, suckling at your pacifier, feeling yourself get sleepier at the comforting item.

“Okay sugar, let’s get us to that nap, little lady, you got your lamb?”he asked, smiling slightly at your droopy eyed, relaxed face. You nodded sleepily, rubbing your eye before wrapping your arm around his neck, holding your lamb in the other hand. Joel got up, hiking you up on his hip. He kissed your nose, smiling. You gave him a kiss on the lips with your pacifier still in you mouth and giggled. He grinned, carrying you back to the room and reassuming the position you were originally in.

“Wuv daddy”you mumbled softly around your pacifier. He smiled and kissed your head, letting the firm peck linger for a moment.

“I love you too darlin, so much. My babygirl.” He said lovingly and you held your lamb closer. He rubbed your back comfortingly, shaking his leg gently to mimic rocking your you. You snuggled closer, letting out a sigh of comfort. Finally you closed your eyes, sleep soon overtaking you as Joel held you in your arms, rocking you and humming softly. You felt safe for the first time in so long. Joel made you feel safe in this awful world.

You did the same for Joel. Gone were the nightmares of losing his daughter, of holding her as light rapidly lost in her eyes and her quickened sharp breaths soon fell silent. Joel hated hearing Sarah hyperventilating so, but would’ve given anything to hear that rather than the silence of her soul leaving her body. For once he didn’t let sleep consume him just to relive the worst moment of his life. As he laid with you, holding you tightly in his burly arms as he rocked you slightly. He drifted to sleep as you breathing evened out. And for once, He slept soundly, intertwined with you as your hearts and breaths moved in synch.

[arisveah]

i wish my bones were like silly putty. that would more fun i think.

[fluffy-starlaxy]

[spineless-lobster]

Blood and darkness they hit the second tower

[cadavercowboy]

Whispers

It’s been weeks since the last time you spoke to Eddie. No more greeting when you drag your tired feet through the front door. No acknowledgement at all, in fact. He hasn’t heard any funny stories about your day in what feels like forever. You don’t ask him what he’s doing or invite him to come hang out while you watch your favorite comfort movies. Instead, it’s been absolute silence. He knows how badly you’re hurting and he's hurting too. Perhaps it's a little selfish, but not hearing your voice is destroying him. You’re shutting him out and it’s torture.

Like a lost puppy, he follows you rather forlornly to your car. You climb in and shut the door without a word. Eddie misses when you used to spend the entire drive talking to him, endlessly chattering as if he might drift away from you should you stop. All that passes between you now is a pain that has become palpable and the unwelcome hush which he finds increasingly harder to bear.

Eddie stares straight ahead, unable to turn and look your way lest he see the devastation he knows he will find written like graffiti across the structure of your tired face. He doesn’t pay much attention to the passing scenery and he doesn’t need to…he knows exactly where you’re headed.

When you reach your destination, you exit the car with the mechanical and practiced ease of a person who has done this too many times. You still do not speak. Eddie resigns himself to the silence and follows. At your customary patch of grass, he watches you unfold a quilted blanket and flick it away from your body to spread it across the ground. He does not help, only observes. When you lower your weight to the soft earth and cross your legs, he joins you. 

Studying you as you gaze absently into the distance, Eddie aches to shatter the quiet. To force you to see him and hear him and to make you speak. But he cannot and so he doesn’t. 

Your eyes are sad, heavy with the burden of emotion. Your skin is dulled from fatigue and your lips pull down in a sorrow-laden frown. If only he could reach out and take it from you. This is killing him. Though it once wounded him to see you cry and scream and rage, he’d give anything to have it back. Eddie found a sort of gratification in your display of passion, even if it were borne of anger and pain. Because no matter the agony it caused him, it meant you still love him. He doesn’t quite know what your reticence suggests.

For a long while, the only sound around you is the high-pitched chirping of the birds and the wind blowing softly through the overgrown grass. Unable to help himself, Eddie reaches out and brushes his knuckles along your cheek. The movement causes a cool breeze against your skin and you inhale sharply, turning towards the gentle sensation. No, it isn’t words, but it’s just enough to please him for today. He has faith that you will speak to him again. You just need time. 

When the sun sets and the air grows colder, he knows you’ll want to leave soon. He makes no effort to initiate the exit nor urge you to consider going home. You’ll do so when you’re ready. He knows that from experience over the past several months. All the times you’ve come here, your routine remains unchanged. 

It takes only a few minutes for you to begin to gather your things and Eddie clambers to his feet while you do. Side by side you stand, each of you staring at the spot you’ve vacated before you sniffle and turn on your heel. Eddie remains a moment longer, observing the way the dusk’s pinkish glow reflects off of his black marble gravestone and in no particular rush to join you just yet. He’ll have the rest of forever to catch up.

[luminiera-merge]

falling to my knees in despair remembering the aquarium yuribait manga

[acollectiveofeightythousandrats]

Salted caramel MnMs anyone?

[halogalopaghost]

.

[battleaxeproficiency]

it is not fair to suddenly have really big emotions whilst shitting . it's 3 in the morning, im taking the worst shit of my life and ALSO I got sad thinking about the future ???? girl it is a Monday . it's MLK day . you're pooping . get a grip .

[raskolnikovneedssoup]

I often feel like "The Idiot" (Prince Myshkin)

Poor guy is often present when people are arguing and at the very end everyone looks at him to settle it.

[yoi-koto]

Listening to love songs is... Yeah. Not doing great things to me. Every time I bring up, relevantly, that I just can't and don't date anymore, and anyone asks me why, I just say I'm sick. In no particular, specified manner. Just... Sick. I feel as if my soul itself is stretched thin and split irrevocably in places.

Clinically, I'm mentally sick. Depression/anxiety combo. Borderline personality disorder. Issues with no real name. A lack of care and empathy, sickening need to control, nauseating guilt and regret that drags me back to an inability to function and dig myself out. I feel perpetually haunted by my past, and frightened by the bleak nature of a future. I dance with self destruction, to a point where I don't notice, because the behaviour is so ingrained in me. 'Healing', to me, is not being so bad, that I can no longer damage control and keep my shit from affecting others. I never have been able to shut it all down. I think I just think too much. I've said this before, but me sharing 5% feels like it's 50% of anyone else. Always overwhelming. Always too much. I remain seemingly unchanged, despite the years of work. I no longer recognise the person I was 4 years ago, and yet it brings such sharp nostalgia. I raise my voice, and I feel 17 again. I feel volatile, unrecognisable. Then again, when was the last time I recognised myself?

I... Flirted. Barely. Put my best foot forward in an interaction because he was attractive, is more apt. And I sit now, and think that I can't think of that me and me as I am now as the same person. So many acts. I'm not sure which is the act anymore. I am bubbly, and confident, and easygoing, and sullen, and explosive, and pensive, and clinical. I am every human emotion misshapen into a clay ball that, when mixed, gives a greenish brown. Artists know the one. They all exist as seperate entities with seperate experiences and thoughts and feelings and presentations, at this point. All isolated intense emotions. Finding a partner feels like lying to them. You wanted this upbeat, outgoing person, with buzzes of energy and ideas? You're going to get a rabid dog that exists in a muzzle more often than not, and bites when let loose.

I think of relationships, and I think of endless fights. Frustration. Love is so precious, and I have romanticised it so much, that I cannot imagine a reality where love so pure exists. Loving someone so deeply that you will change with each other and grow, where they matter above you but never ask you to sacrifice yourself. Where you are wanted, even on the worse of days.

This is the worst worded thing I've ever written, but I have no spark left. The things I write are never poetry, but I try to convey the emotions through images and touch and scent. How love smells like country air and tastes like fresh bread and feels like... I don't know. I feel it all intangibly, but no words come to mind. It feels like the visual texture of smoke and silk and varnished wood. But that makes no sense.

I'm also just physically chronically ill. So, that's that. My brain is badly whisked eggs. And I can't date a person when I feel so... other.

[hairmetal666]

It's 3am. It's pouring down rain. Steve's soaked to the skin, been wandering the city for most of the night, hasn't slept in almost 24 hours, thinks maybe he's on the brink of delirium, and then a truck hits a pool of ponded water, sending a muddy wave cascading over him.

He just wants to go home but Dustin lost his dog and he can't leave a puppy out in this weather.

Steve steps off the curb, and what looks like a shallow puddle turns out to be a water-filled hole. He crashes towards the pavement, nothing he can do to stop it. As fast he's falling, he's miraculously not, arms wrapped around his waist. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, to understand that he's being held upright in an old-fashioned, romantic dip.

"Careful, sweetheart," a deep and smoke raspy voice says from above him.

it sends chills down his spine, the good kind, and warmth slips through him. His rescuer is a solid 10 knockout. Long, curly hair; eyeliner; decked out in leather and studs and chains. He smells like booze and cigarettes and weed, and it's intoxicating. Steve has to fight the instinct to nuzzle the guy's leather jacket. He's beautiful, holds Steve with the swagger only a guy with rings on every finger could pull off.

And Steve is a mud soaked mess in sweatpants and a threadbare Hawkins High tee. But the guy holding him isn't letting go. He stares down at Steve, brown eyes wide.

"Steve!" A voice calls over the patter of the rain.

"Dustin?" He says at the same time that the man holding him says, "Henderson?"

"Eddie?" Dustin asks.

"Wait, dnd Eddie?" Steve gets his feet under him, but Eddie's arms don't drop.

"You're the famous babysitter Steve I've been hearing all about?"

They gape at each other until Dustin reaches them.

"What are you still doing out here?" Dustin shouts. "We found Dart hours ago."

"Dustin!" He thinks he might cry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You weren't answering your walkie!"

"Fuck." Steve drops his face to his hand. The walkie. Which is on the table by the front door where he and Robin leave their keys.

Steve swallows his frustration, the misery of waterlogged shoes, having to be up to open the store in a few hours, meeting the hottest guy he's ever seen when he looks like a drowned rat.

"I promised I'd find Dart, didn't I? Now what the hell are you doing out so late?"

"Mom and I were looking for you!"

"Let's get you back to the car, man, okay?" Steve says to Dustin. He wants to end this weird, terrible, embarrassing night before it gets even more humiliating.

"I can give you a ride home," Eddie says. He's got this weird, intense look on his face, staring at Steve.

"I'm only a few blocks away. I'll be fine. C'mon, Henderson."

"Oh, I can walk him. You head home."

He nods, starts towards his apartment, but turns back just in time to see Eddie and Dustin share a look he can't parse.

---

A few days later, Dustin's following him around at work, chattering about dnd as Steve shelves books, and without taking a breath during a soliloquy about owl bears, says, "Eddie's running a one-shot for us next week. You should come! It's a great way to get into the game."

"I'm not playing dnd," Steve answers. He slides a book onto the shelf. "I've told you this."

"Yeah, but you liked Eddie, right? He'd help you out!"

Steve squints at the kid. "I didn't really meet Eddie to know. Anyway, I'm sure he doesn't want a newbie crashing."

Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn't like him, based on their short introduction, so he's not interested in forcing himself into the guy's dnd club. The night they met was humiliating enough, Steve in all his dorky glory.

"No, he totally wouldn't care. C'mon, Steve!"

"No can do." He ruffles Dustin's hair as he walks away.

He thinks that'll be the end of it, but every few days, for weeks Dustin and all the rest of the kids stop at the store to beg him to join their dnd club.

---

Steve is working the register and he hears the shuffling clank of a customer, looks up and finds Eddie. He's staring at Steve with that same look from the night they met, intense and piercing, cutting straight through the heart of him. He feels himself start to blush.

The first thing out of Eddie's mouth is, "Wait, this is your store?"

"Yeah?" Steve asks. "Is that--is that weird?"

"No! Not at all. It's a good store. Cute." His nose wrinkles when he says it and Steve's blush grows hotter. He knew Eddie thought he was a dork.

"Cute. Yeah. Right. Can I help you with something?"

Eddie rocks back on his heels, hands going to the pockets of his leather jacket, sending his chains jingling. "Oh, so, actually I wanted to see if you were busy?"

"Yeah, man. I'm busy." He laughs, doesn't intend to be mean about it, but he and Robin only opened the store six months ago and both take night classes at the local community college. Plus, everything he does with the kids.

Eddie's face flushes bright. "Oh, sure, of course. Yeah, I--I'll see you around."

The door thunks to a close behind him, and a voice immediately pops up to ask, "What the hell was that?"

He turns to find Max Mayfield hands on hips, glaring up at him, Robin close behind.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

Max rolls her eyes and strides up to the counter. "Why were you an asshole to Eddie?"

"He started it!"

"I highly doubt that."

"Okay, Ms. Know-it-all, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I know for a fact that Eddie came in today to ask you out. So, tell me, Steve Harrington, why he rushed out of here looking like a kicked puppy?"

"What?" He yelps. "Eddie doesn't even like me!"

She glares. "Doesn't like you? He's been pathetic about you since you met."

He gapes at Robin. "Don't look at me," she shrugs. "But that guy was definitely here to ask you out."

"Fix it." Max commands as she stomps out the door. "He bar tends at that metal place on 68th."

---

It's just after 9pm and he's at the metal bar on 68th, decidedly out of place in the yellow t-shirt and jeans he wore to his business accounting class.

It's fairly busy for a weeknight, but Eddie's not hard to find. He's obviously in his element, bobbing his head to a song Steve's never heard as he mixes a drink.

With a hard swallow and a healthy dose of humility, he walks up to the bar.

"Be right--" Eddie starts, balking when he notices Steve.

"Can we talk?" he shouts over the music.

Eddie's eyes widen a little, but he nods, slips out from behind the bar to guide him to an employee exit.

"What's up, Steve?" Eddie asks. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders bowed in.

"I wanted to apologize."

"What for?"

"Earlier, I--when you said the store was cute I thought you were making fun of me."

"But--why?"

"I thought you didn't like me." Steve cringes at the admission.

"What?" He laughs.

"I don't know. We met in the middle of the night and I was covered in mud looking for a dog that wasn't lost anymore."

"Steve. Holy shit." Eddie shakes his head. "You looked gorgeous that night. The way your clothes were sticking--you know what? Never mind. Did you think I wanted you to come to dnd because I hated you?"

"You wanted me to come?"

"Dustin didn't..."

"No! And he's been asking me to play dnd weekly for the past five years."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie slumps agains the brick wall at his back. "No wonder you turned me down today."

"To be fair," Steve slumps next to him. "If I had realized you were asking me out, I wouldn't have turned you down."

"No?" Eddie asks. His brown eyes gleam.

"Definitely not. I've had a crush on you since that night. Sort of devastating since I thought you didn't like me." Steve runs his hand through his hair, watches Eddie track the movement.

"The store is cute, Steve. I--uh--I've been a few times. Back before I knew you were the owner! I just kept seeing a hot employee with great hair and a perfect ass, and the vaguely mean lesbian barista gives me free drinks."

"That's Robin," Steve says. He's smiling so hard.

"I know that now," Eddie smiles back. "Sorry for being an idiot."

"Me too." Steve nods. "Do you--could I still come to dnd? Or take you out sometime?"

"Why not both?" Dimples pop on Eddie's cheeks, and Steve's heart flips.

"I like both." They're still against the wall, but drifting into each other's space.

"So Dustin said."

It surprises a laugh out of Steve. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Too bad. He's a nice kid."

"Eh, we've got six more to choose from."

"I have a few more hours here, but there's a diner down the street that does some of the most mediocre pancakes I've ever tasted. Meet me there? Around 2?"

"A thousand lost puppies wouldn't make me miss it."

The next time Steve is out at 3am he's pressed against a building, Eddie kissing him so thoroughly he knows he's never recovering from this one.

[ninzied]

pieces

they fight. brownstone era. for @dreamsinthewitchouse. ~1k.

It starts out so small that Henry hardly realizes what it’s become until it’s too late. He doesn’t mean to sigh when Alex gets home and sets his things down at the table, next to the dinner Henry’s spent hours making only to then watch grow cold. But then Alex’s apology—which Henry is certain he means but rather wishes hadn’t been needed to start with—feels just sharp enough that Henry is hurt by it, and the hurt comes out all wrong.

It comes out angry, and maybe a little bit selfish, and Alex is stretched thin as it is, Henry knows this, yet once he’s made it about himself it’s like a disease and he can’t seem to stop it from spreading.

And then he hears Alex say that he can take the couch, and Henry goes so still it’s as if Alex just dealt him a physical blow. They’re fighting, he realizes. It’s one dinner, which Alex hadn’t even known he was missing, and now it’s come to them sleeping apart because Henry’s little feelings got wounded?

“No,��� says Henry. “Absolutely not.”

Alex rubs tiredly at his eyes. “Are we really going to fight about this, too?”

“No,” says Henry hotly, “because this part is not up for discussion. You’re the one with exams tomorrow, so I’ll be taking the couch tonight, thanks.”

“Hen,” Alex starts, but Henry walks past him into the kitchen. He’s hanging on by a death grip to his very last shred of dignity when all he wants to do is let go.

.

His cloudy mood dissipates halfway through doing the dishes. Still, it takes with it more than just anger, draining him totally, leaving him not so much clear-headed as feeling like he’s all hollowed out.

Henry knows he’ll get no sleep tonight.

It’s not the couch itself, of course; it’s that even after all this time, sleep still doesn’t come easily without Alex there beside him. It’s David worrying at Henry’s feet, making distressed little snuffling sounds. It’s that no matter how small the fight, or how infrequently they do it, each time it never fails to awaken in Henry all the old fears that Alex will leave him. That Alex will finally decide he’s had enough of—well, all of this. All of Henry.

He tries not to think it too often. It’s not fair to Alex, and to the beautiful life that they’ve built together, but when 3AM comes and the semi-delirium of no sleep sets in, those fears are harder to write off as not real.

He wants nothing more than to go to Alex. To hold him and tell him how sorry he is, that he’s asked for more than he has any right to. That loving someone like Henry is neither simple nor easy, he knows, and he wants to be better, he will be better, for Alex. But that would be letting his fears speak for him, saying he’s less than, that the broken things in him are simply not meant to be loved.

Henry can do better than that. Alex would never stand for such talk, and perhaps more importantly, Henry will not stand for it either.

He tosses and turns, and lets the fears have their moment, looming large there in the dark. And then he gathers a blanket around his shoulders and heads up the stairs.

.

The light is still on in their bedroom. Henry can hear the flip of a page, the faint scratch of a pen from behind the door. He closes his eyes and pictures Alex at their desk, a hand through his hair, his forehead creased in concentration. Henry’s soothed by the routine of it, the familiar touches of a life with a person he knows so well and loves more than it should be possible to love another person but isn’t.

And he owes it to Alex, to let Alex love him back the same way.

Henry tucks himself in right there in the hallway, content just to know that Alex is there, and to not demand anything more of him than that. The fears retreat to their shadows once more, back to a smaller haunting—always there, a part of Henry, but a part that he knows Alex loves, just as fiercely as the rest of him, always.

.

He’s not certain how long he’s dozed for, but the next thing he knows is the feel of Alex’s lips on his brow. The soft way he murmurs, “Baby. Scoot over. David, you too. How long have you been here? Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Mm.” Henry cracks a bleary eye open as Alex drapes something heavy around them. His arms encircle Henry next, and it’s hard to think of a reason to move now that it feels like they’re both where they should be. David noses his way beneath the covers, shifting down to curl at their feet. “Love, are these our bed linens?”

“Yeah,” says Alex, nuzzling into Henry’s neck. That one simple touch is enough to make Henry’s entire chest ache with relief. “Was going to sneak onto the couch next to you. This works too though. Fuck, I missed you.”

“We shouldn’t stay on the floor,” Henry tells him, burrowing closer, breathing him in. His words are half-muffled against Alex’s chest. “You need rest, in an actual bed. You’ve worked hard and you deserve the world to show for it.”

“Don’t need any of that,” says Alex. “Just you. I will fight you on that part,” he adds when Henry opens his mouth. “I’m so pissed at myself that you thought for even a second any of those things could matter to me more than this.”

“No, I’ve been selfish,” frowns Henry. “I’ve been too focused on what I want, and what makes me happy, and—”

“Good,” says Alex. “It’s about fucking time.”

And then he leans in and kisses Henry like it’s everything Alex wants too, Henry defending himself, Henry fighting for what he wants and deserves. Henry, knowing he’s loved, and loved, for all that he is and never for a single thing less than that.

[macadamia-shithead]

TASKLINE MANAGERS YAAAAY (reaching 3am delirium goodnight)

[stagefoureddiediaz]

apparently severe CO poisoning can cause lesions on the skin, so maybe it's all connected? It would be just in the weewoo show wheelhouse to turn something silly into something deathly serious

Yes I was wondering if it would be a CO poisoning thing - which is where I was going with the post I made at 3am (my time) about the pipes Gerrard mentioned - it was 3am so I didn't actually state CO as the thing because my brain was not in fully functional mode 😂

It would be so on brand for the show to go down that route! especially as Buck has been stuck on latrine duty for so long - hence more exposed to those pipes perhaps!

My post about Tommy hitting Buck was more of a bit of speculative fun - to explore aspects of Bucks character and how the show might choose to address them - there are lots of possibilities!

I am very much of the opinion that it will be a poisoning thing - and that Hen will also be affected - hence the hallucination of Denny getting hit by a car and trapped - seeing her worst nightmares!

I actually really like the metaphor of CO poisoning to be honest. CO poisoning can also cause, increased heart rate, sleepiness, delirium, confusion and the depression of the central nervous system, alongside hallucinations and lesions.

Using CO poisoning as a way of indicating the reality of Buck's relationships over the course of all 8 seasons - that he's been slowly, slowly poisoning himself by just falling into all these relationships without actually stopping to look at what he wants or needs and how they're making him feel - letting others chase him and just going along with things, until a physical manifestation appears in the form of a lesion. its a really interesting and clever way of exploring Bucks tendencies to not choose for himself and not look internally at his wants and needs and also to not look to closely at his heart (where he'll find Eddie when he does)

CO poisoning slowly increasing your heart rate (abby), headaches and dizziness (Ali), kind of making you sluggish - like you've got anaesthetic in your system (depression of the central nervous system) (taylor), shortness of breath (Natalia) and being confused and disoriented (hello I misunderstood the assignment) when Tommy kissed him. The delirium of realising a new part of yourself you didn't know existed before, and then having it manifest visually in a physical lesion - Tommy being akin to a lesion on Bucks life (in a halloween episode no less) as almost a final and visual symptom is peak comedy (only on 911!) and such an interesting way to introduce baggage and hurdles or whatever synonym Oliver wants to go with in his next interview! Because if its visual - it means Buck has become aware of things - metaphorically he's beginning to understand what he does every time he is in a relationship - and now he has to both stop the cause of those symptoms and treat them before they 'kill' him - basically he has to actually learn from his past relationships (and his current one) and get off that hamster wheel. Its such a clever metaphor for Bucks relationships and his inability to look at things until they become so obvious he cannot avoid them.

He's going to learn that he's going about things the same way with a man as he did with the women he dated and this is where he finally looks and learns and unpacks that baggage and moves forward!

[shadowsandshapes]

[𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲] 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 (Gojo Satoru/afab!Reader)

☆ A/N: This was a 3AM scream into the void that I cleaned up for fun. I said I was gonna do Gojo smut and here we are. So I present to you: Gojo tortures himself for fun. ☆ Contains: Edging, Copious Amounts of Cum, Gojo Whining Like A Whore (: ☆ wc: [1K]

Minors DNI | Ao3 Link

His eyes were so pretty like this.

Those brilliant, limitless blues are caught in a stupefying haze – glazed over and brimming with desperation.

Their depths had darkened with desire as Gojo stared up at your gorgeous body, moving atop his own in a steady, mind-numbingly pleasurable rhythm. He wanted to look away, hide his festering hunger and madness that was flooding into his being but simply couldn't. It would be a shame to miss even a second of the beauty he was witnessing. You were a vision so powerful and captivating it demanded to be seen. Every touch, every glance and noise from your lips captured the attention and held it hostage, leaving no room for wandering thoughts. Only you. You consumed the man’s mind entirely with your lovely body and soul. What did it matter, anyway? There was no need to think of anything else.

Just you and the sweet rolling of your hips.

Gojo's senses were on fire. Mind bordering on the sweet precipice of delirium and bliss. His hands fumbled to hold onto your thighs, squeezing and pulling at the flesh to help you along on his aching cock. A blush seemed to envelop your body – tinting the skin a radiant, glowing pink. The imprints his fingers left behind told a story. Faint bruising, both healed and fresh, functioned as monuments to his continuous acts of desperation. No matter how many times you rode his cock, Gojo always ended up begging for more. He was positively insatiable. Always looking to prolong and endure more of your sweet torture.

Gojo moaned out a strangled curse, halting your movements. "S-Stop, stop, stop—" he breathed out, chest rising and falling as he attempted to regain control of his body. "I'm gonna cum, just stop — not yet, please."

With a voice so utterly fucked out of his mind and broken, how could you neglect such lovely begging?

“Of course, baby, we’ll slow down,” you whispered, grinding to a stop on top of him. Gojo whimpered at the loss of friction but babbled and mumbled a few frantic words of thanks, his voice faltering and stumbling over each syllable.

“T-Thank you, thank you, thank – y-you…” He could barely breathe, feeling your godly pussy tightening and relaxing around his cock. “I almost couldn’t hold it anymore,” Gojo said, digging his fingers into the tender flesh of your thighs even harder in an attempt to ground himself.

He looks at you with a clouded gaze as you tenderly brush his white locks back with your fingers. “Why do you torture yourself like this, Satoru…” The words came out of your mouth with such reverence as you committed the sight to memory. It was beautiful, the way Gojo panted and whimpered at each touch you were willing to give him, like a man starved for connection and love. Affection was the single most addicting substance in the world to him. And the fact that it came from you, an absolute goddess among men, made it taste even sweeter.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so –” Gojo moans, bucking his hips up into you. “So f-fucking b-beautiful.” He’s crumbling. You can see his resolve to drag this out breaking as he begins fucking you again. 

You leaned forward, catching one of his shameless moans with your lips. A kiss to silence your needy, depraved boy for at least a few seconds. Gojo's cock twitched furiously within you, fighting the orgasm that was mere seconds away. If he came now, you would get off him and it would be over. Gojo couldn't have that – he was far too addicted to you to let that happen. Oh, but the craving he felt for you was unparalleled. He wanted it so badly. To paint your inner walls his colors and release his seed deep inside you. But not yet. It would be too soon. This was torture of his own design and delaying the inevitable would only make his release all the more satisfying.

Gojo thanked his lucky stars that you were willing to indulge this overwhelming need of his. There was just one problem: his body moved beyond his control, grinding up into your sweet cunt like a man possessed. Desire had truly taken hold of him. He couldn't help it. His cock chased after whatever friction it could get. Your walls contracted with each thrust, embracing his shaft like it belonged there, buried within you, pressing up against your cervix. 

How was he supposed to stop fucking you when you felt so goddamn perfect? 

You watched his eyes glaze over once more, a mantra of curses and pleas to stop tumbling from his lips. "N-no," he moaned out, glancing at his own, furiously thrusting hips. "F-Fuck, stop – I'm gonna—" Gojo was livid with himself. Fuming at his lack of self-control. He had begged you to stop and you had so graciously granted his wish, but here he was fucking himself into you like a mindless beast. You were so good to him and he couldn't stop. 

A desperate, moaning wail spilled from his perfect lips as his cock began convulsing furiously within your tight pussy. You felt his release splatter against your walls, cock pulsing with each spurt and thrust. Gojo's eyes rolled back as he came, his head flopping down on the pillow behind him as his body began to writhe and shake beneath you. Even that wasn’t enough for him to stop moving, though. He bit his own lips in an attempt to silence his blissful cries. A valiant but ultimately futile attempt: every wave of release made him wail and sob in pleasure. He'd waited so long to cum. Now he couldn't stop. Pearly white seed slipped down the side of his cock as he continued to ride the high, coating the part where your bodies joined in slick. The sound of your bodies grinding into each other covered in cum was enough to drive anyone crazy. Even so, Gojo wasn't done. You were full, stuffed to the brim with his cum, but he had more to give, spilling over onto his abdomen and your perfectly bruised thighs. 

When he'd finally drained his balls into your complete, the mess was immense, sticking to your bodies and dripping from your hole onto the sheets.

"I'm sorry –" Gojo panted out the apology. "Can we go again? Please, I need more. Just one more time."

One more time, he said. You both knew that was a lie.

[Masterlist]