#I’ll just pick the ones I like. maybe 10 maybe 4 I don’t know yet

[bumfuzzled-bee]

I’m clearing out some drafts that I’ve had for way too long. I think it would be a shame to delete them. So for the next few posts you’ll see some of the most random fandoms. Just a heads up <3

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.

Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying

WC: 8.2k

Chapter 14/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.

--

Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home. 

Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal. 

Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos. 

Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day. 

Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface. 

“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”

You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight. 

Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”

There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.

“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”

“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”

“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”

He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.

Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.

“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”

Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work. 

“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus. 

Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.

“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.

Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.

Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you. 

“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it. 

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.

He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”

He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two. 

You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.

“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck. 

“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.

As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning. 

“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.

You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.

Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.

You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 

The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day. 

“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates. 

Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.

It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.

It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.

“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”

“Eds?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”

You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”

Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”

“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”

“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite. 

You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”

“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”

“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”

“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling. 

“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place. 

To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water. 

Could Corroded Coffin play again?

It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on. 

We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too. 

He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light. 

Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—

“‘Lo?”

Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”

“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”

Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.” 

Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”

There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.” 

Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”

“Mhm.”

“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”

Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”

“Of course.”

“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.

“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”

Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”

“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”

“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers. 

“Did your friends go?”

“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”

Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”

“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.” 

“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.

“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”

Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break. 

Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get. 

He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference. 

“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”

“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief. 

“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”

Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”

Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.

“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”

The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.

“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”

The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.

You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.

Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.

“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe. 

He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch. 

“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning. 

A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.

“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.” 

“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.

Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”

Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.

“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think. 

But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him. 

Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.

“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”

“Not you.”

You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.

“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”

Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.

“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs. 

“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.

“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key. 

Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again. 

“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”

He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings. 

“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”

Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”

Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right.  You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson. 

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”

Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.

“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.

“For what?”

“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”

You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.

“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”

Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.

As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.

“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.

Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”

“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”

“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!” 

Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie. 

Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’

No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again. 

“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort. 

“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head. 

Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.” 

Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida. 

“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys. 

Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand. 

With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?” 

He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there. 

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”

The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat. 

Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”

Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that. 

“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”

But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.

Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”

Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”

There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.

“Yeah. I can stay.”

Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.

You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”

“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one. 

“Being in a hospital?”

He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.

“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”

“But what if Jeff needs—”

“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning. 

Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful. 

You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…

You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then. 

The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.

“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion. 

As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”

Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–

“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”

Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”

“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.

Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.” 

There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment. 

“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns. 

Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner. 

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”

“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this. 

It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.

“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”

You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”

There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.

It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.

“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”

“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.

“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”

Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister. 

The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.

“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.” 

“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.

“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent. 

“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.” 

Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations. 

“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”

“I mean, I—”

“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”

And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.

“I love her.”

--

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @lost-in-the-stars03 @aysheashea @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @inesven @tanyaherondale @theintimatewriter

[schmem14]

It’s my birthday! Celebrate with me by reading my top favorite fanfic discoveries this past year. (Feel free to flail with me in DM’s!) I feel so lucky to have found so many wonderful talented friends and amazing stories! 

1. flour and flesh by foxglovetonic (nocturn) Hermione x Pansy, wc: 666 rating: M

(Mind the tags) This sapphic horror fic gripped my soul from the moment I read it and it lives rent-free in my head because of its amazing imagery and masterful use of unreliable narrator. I’ll be forever creeped out by carving pumpkins and pie (but in the BEST way, I swear!) This is the #1 reason Halloween is my fav. 

2. Usually by @lumosatnight Percy x Oliver, wc: 1k, rating: E

What’s not to love about banter, chess as foreplay, and stripping down until there’s nothing left but heart-pounding hot AF sex? This pairing is fantastic, and Lani’s writing is on point, as always, and I was incredibly impressed by the real live chess match taking place in the background. Read it, you won’t regret it! 

3. drink up, boys by @emilyrickman gen work featuring Parvati Patil, wc: 1.5k, rating: M

(Mind the tags) I URGE you give this gripping revenge story a chance! Between Parvati’s confidence and the absolute heartbreaking and empowering ode to sisterly love, this story gave me goosebumps. Emily is such a great writer, and I can’t stress enough how well the feels come through on this one. Also, give the song What It Means To Be a Girl by EMELINE a listen as you read, it will elevate the whole experience! 

4. One Woman’s Trash by @nanneramma Lavender x Hermione wc: 2k, rating: T

My friend Nan can do it all, and I don’t care that coffee shop AU has been done a thousand and one times before, THIS is the one to read! Lavender is to die for in this, and the fluff is pure, gourmet sweetness. It will have you kicking your feet and squealing by the end. 

5. Head Over Heels by @vdoshu Narcissa x Mrs. Zabini, wc: 575, Rating: M

This itty bitty fic is singlehandedly feeding my Narcissa Mommy delusion. I want her to step on me SO BAD! Ugh. Doshu packs a punch with every story, and the punchline of this one is sure to have you gasping like a beached fish. Please come scream at me about it if and when you know what I mean. 

6. Welcome, Peasants by @fluxweeed Draco x Ron x Harry, wc: 15k, Rating: E

It was nearly impossible for me to pick just ONE of my favorite fics from Dronarry fest this year, but I narrowed it down to two. Strap in for an hour and immerse yourself because the payoff is WORTH IT!  This one blends the juicy polyjuice trope with a healthy dollop of mistaken identity and a pinch of jealousy. Better yet is the twisty reveal and the absolutely smut-tastic finale that follows.

7. For I Have Found Salvation by @lumosatnight Severus x Harry, wc: 7k, Rating: E

Yes Lani, I couldn’t resist another! I feel like I have to preface this by saying I’m not usually a Snarry fan, but this filthy Priest AU fic is EVERYTHING. The dynamic of guilt and forbidden church sex (while church is IN SESSION) is so fucking delectable. I’m going to just say it and embarrass myself: Insta-Wank Bank. Yep. 

8. Nightswimming by @sweet-s0rr0w Draco x Ron (x Harry), wc: 5k, Rating: M

…Which brings me to my SECOND Dronarry fest pick from this year, and I love it so much because it’s all banter and hypotheticals. Draco and Harry are a couple, but Draco and Ron share a car ride where it comes out that maybe they’ve been considering a three-way with Ron. They don’t even fuck, but the tension of them just talking about it is too hot to handle. Bonus: There’s art at the end! 

9. Mistletoe Mojito by @amethystheart2421 Sybill x Severus, wc: 3k, Rating: E

This fic knocked me flat on my ass. This lust potion fueled one-night stand fic had me laughing and crying (from hilarity and absurdity and sadness) all at once. Such delightful writing, and the perfect example of crack taken seriously. 

10. All That Is Beautiful, Burns In The Making by @sailtomarina Narcissa x Bill, wc: 8k, Rating: E

Narcissa is hot. Bill is hot. We all know this from canon, but imagine they get together and how much hotter they are as a couple! This fic contains such delights as werewolf Bill, seduction, forbidden love, infidelity, knotting, endless refractory periods, voyeurism, rough sex, and mating. It’s not quite A/B/O but it has a lot of the elements that make it such a juicy AU.

11. A Perfect Answer by @p1013 Draco x Harry wc: 9k, Rating: E

Downton Abbey AU. Harry is Draco’s valet and the love is very much forbidden. Contains: pining, jealousy, decorum, emerald cufflinks that Draco favours, and BATHS. Something about it reminds me of Jane Eyre, though I know that’s a different time period and there’s no crazy wife in the attic. I loved this fic so much because it was a well-written AU and it brought a breath of fresh air to an old favorite otp. The angst is divine, and the ending is such a lovely payoff. Enjoy! 

[mamaestapa]

Is It True?

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

•chapter summary: A lot happens while Joe is in Louisiana for the LSU spring game, that leaves both questioning everything

•word count: 4.3k

•warnings: pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy loss, language, some fluff, crying, ANGST (you’re going to hate me for this one…but then you’ll love me, maybe👀)

series masterlist

——————————————————

April 10, 2023 (I know the game took place later in April, but for this story it took place earlier. too much is going to happen in the month of April…buckle up babes)

4 months pregnant

You were doing your hair and makeup when your phone went off with a text from Joe. You put you makeup brush down on the bathroom counter and picked up your cell phone, looking to see what Joe had sent you.

Joe- Plane just landed. Have fun with your friends today. 

 You smiled to yourself as you texted him back.

You- I will. You have fun too. Baby boy and I miss you already!

Joe- I miss you both, too. Give him a kiss for me ;)

You let out a light chuckle as you read his text. You brought your hand up to your mouth, puckering your lips and planting a kiss on your index and middle finger. You gently pressed the two fingers you had just kissed onto the right side of your growing belly. You pressed your fingers gently into your bump, earning a kick in return from your little one. He’s been so active recently, which both you and Joe love—Joe especially. He loves to sit on the couch with you and keep a hand on your tummy at all times, feeling for all of your baby boys kicks and little movements. 

You- Just did, he kicked in return lol

Joe- Cute, I miss that already. Heading to the stadium now, I’ll see you in a couple days.

You- Be safe, and have fun Joe! 

Joe liked your messaged

You put your phone back down and finished getting ready for your afternoon brunch with Morgan, Holly, and Emma. This morning, Joe left for Louisiana with Ja’Marr. The two of them were going to be attending the LSU spring game, cheering on their alma mater as the team plays against themselves. It’s a fun tradition that the LSU football team has done for many years. Joe wanted to bring you with him for this years game, but you declined his offer, deciding to stay home and spend some time with your friends instead. You also didn’t want rumors to start spreading about you and Joe. The two of you weren’t quite ready for the world to find out about the baby yet. Of course, the fans know that you’re pregnant, but they don’t know that Joe is the father.

While Joe is in Louisiana for a couple days, you’re staying home in Cincinnati and spending time with your friends. You cant deny that you’ll miss Joe while he’s away for a couple days, but you have your baby boy to keep you company and Joe will be home before you know it.

You finished getting ready and headed out to a little cafe just outside of downtown Cincinnati. As you pulled into the parking lot, Morgan, Holly, and Emma were waiting outside for you. You waved hello to the three of them as you put the car in park. You stepped out of the car and walked up to the girls, giving each of them a tight hug, mindful of your growing bump. You followed the girls into the cafe, immediately getting a table upon your arrival. You sat down next to Morgan, while Holly and Emma sat across from the two of you. You ordered your drinks and made small talk before ordering your food.

“So Y/n,” Morgan said as she set her green juice down on the table, “How are you? The last time we all saw you was at Emma’s baby shower when you…” she trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence. You nodded, acknowledging what she was referring to. It was true, the last time you saw your friends was on one of the worrisome days of your life.

"I'm doing really good," you nodded, a smile on your face as you spoke, "baby boy and I are both happy and healthy."

All of the girls wore smiles of relief at your words. They were extremely worried about you and your unborn sons health after your scare last month.

"That's great, Y/n." Holly said, smiling sincerely, "we were all really worried about you. Did the doctor say what was wrong?"

You nodded, "It wasn't anything serious, but it could have been. It was caused by my body being under crazy amounts of stress from..." you trailed off glancing at Emma as you sighed softly, "yeah."

You didn't have to say Sam's name. The girls all knew he was the one making you so stressed and overwhelmed lately.

"Y/n," Emma frowned, "Have you talked to Sam since then?" You shook your head in response. Neither you nor Joe have spoken a word to your older brother.

"He feels terrible. He's blaming himself for the whole thing, you know."

That's because it is his fault...You think to yourself as you listen to your sister-in-law.

"He cried, Y/n. You know Sam as well as I do, maybe even a little better. You know he rarely gets upset, but this? This whole situation broke him, hun. He feels awful about everything." She finished, voice barely above a whisper as she said the word "everything".

Your jaw clenched as you stayed quiet. He feels awful about everything. Yeah right, you'll believe it when you see it. You can feel your blood pressure rise just from talking about Sam and the whole situation. Your emotions and hormones are all over the place right now as your mind comes up with thoughts that have nothing nice to say about your older brother.

You shook your head and scoffed slightly before you spoke harshly about Sam. "So I could have lost my baby boy, and now he decides he feels bad about everything he's done to me? Said about me, my baby daddy, or my pregnancy?"

Holly's eyes widened and Morgan fidgeted awkwardly in her seat as silence fell amongst the group. The air around you was growing tense as no one knew how to respond to your harsh statement. It was obvious you weren't going to forgive Sam anytime soon.

Emma frowned, "Y/n, he didn't start feeling bad after your scare, he-." You laughed in disbelief, cutting Emma off. You didn't want to hear anymore, and you certainly didn't want to talk about Sam right now.

"Can we not talk about Sam or my pregnancy loss scare, please?"

You didn't mean to come across harsh, but you truly didn't want to hear anymore. Not right now at least. You wanted to enjoy a nice brunch with your friends and not have the mood ruined by the drama currently going on in your life.

"I'm sorry." Emma frowned, "I didn't mean to make you upset."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your raging hormones and scattered emotions. You shook your head, smiling softly at her, "I know. I've just been through a lot recently, and I wanted to enjoy this brunch with all of you—without any drama."

Morgan nodded as she reached across the table to grab your hands. "I know you have, but we're here for you, okay?" You nodded, smiling gratefully at all of your friends. Morgans smile matched yours as she removed her hands from yours and sat back in her chair.

"We can still enjoy this brunch too," she smiled, holding up her mimosa, "and we will still enjoy this brunch."

You smiled at Holly as you joined in to her cheers, holding up your mocktail and clinking your glass with hers. Morgan and Emma joined in too. After your little toast moment, your girls brunch went on and turned out to be a lovely time. The four of you talked about your off-season plans, next year's football season, and of course the babies and the milestones you and Emma were experiencing. You told the girls all about your baby boy's first kick and how Joe reacted. As you told the story, it brought tears to Morgans eyes.

"We were sitting on the couch watching TV when I felt a little jolt on the right side of my tummy," you explained, putting a hand on the exact spot you had felt your baby kick for the first time, "I wasn't sure if it was a kick, but then I felt it again, so I grabbed Joe's hand and made him feel."

"What did he think?" Emma asked as she crossed her hands and draped them over her baby bump. You smiled, "He was one awe. It was really sweet."

The girls broke out in a chorus of awe's as you continued.

"He talked to the baby, telling him how it was good to feel him move after the scare he gave us earlier in the day." Morgan pushed her lower lip out in a pout as tears welled in her brown eyes. You smiled sadly, laughing lightly at her reaction.

"Awe, Morgan!"

She laughed and dabbed at her eyes, "I'm sorry, that's just really sweet. I think it's safe to say that man is in love with you, y/n. It's easy to see that you mean a lot to him."

A blush creeped up to your cheeks as you just smiled at Morgans words. What she said was all true though, you do mean a lot to Joe. More than you'll ever know...

After about another hour of talking and enjoying each others company, the four of you decided to head out. You thanked the waitress, leaving her a generous tip before you followed your friends out of the cafe. You said your goodbyes, hugging each of them and promising each girl that you'd take it easy until Joe gets back from Louisiana. You said one last goodbye and walked to your car, deciding to head home and relax the rest of the day. It didn't take you long to get to Joe's from the cafe, which you were thankful for because you had to pee. Recently, baby boy has liked to press a foot or elbow against your bladder all times of the day. You find yourself having to pee often, which gets pretty annoying (especially during the late hours of the night). Once you finished your business in the bathroom, you decided to change out of your sundress and into some comfier clothing. You planned on staying in the rest of the day, watching your favorite movies on the couch and maybe taking a nap or two. You went into Joe's closet and took his pink nike sweatshirt. You inhaled the fabric of the sweatshirt as you pulled it on over your body, your nostrils filling with a mix of Joe's cologne and his natural scent. The smell of him on his sweatshirt made you feel comfortable, but it made you miss Joe even more than you already did. You turned the light off in his closet and went back downstairs. You poured yourself a cup of a water and went into the living room, sitting down on the couch and propping your feet up on the coffee table in front of the couch. After you got comfortable, you pulled your phone out and decided to text Joe.

You- Hey :) Hope you're having fun at the game with Ja'Marr. Baby boy and I miss you.

Joe texted back almost immediately.

Joe- Hey Y/n, I miss you too. How is he doing? You still feeling OK? If not, I can fly back tonight. I don't really feel like partying after the game anyways.

You smiled at his text. Joe was so protective over you and his baby. It warmed your heart knowing he cared that much about the two of you.

You- He's doing good--been really active today! I'm feeling great, don't worry about me. I had a great time with the girls today, just relaxing on the couch right now.

Joe- You're supposed to say you need me to come home ASAP...I really don't want to go out tonight.

You- Then don't? No one is forcing you to be social, Joseph.

Joe- Haha, you're funny. But Ja'Marr is. He says we have to catch up with some old teammates, but I'd rather stay at the hotel and talk to you all night.

Your smile grew as you read his text. Butterflies started to swarm in your tummy at Joe's confession of wanting to talk to you all night instead of his friends and old teammates.

You- Rarely will I ever say this, but I think Ja'Marr is right. You should catch up with your old friends, even if it's just for a couple hours.

Joe- I guess you're right. I'm glad you had fun today, Y/n. I'll talk to you later.

You- Have fun tonight, I'll send videos of baby boy if he's moving around a lot. I know you miss him.

Joe- You better, I do miss those little kicks. I'll text you later, see you both in a couple days.

You liked Joe's message and turned your phone off, deciding to turn on your favorite Tv show. As episodes of the show played in the background, you felt your eyes growing heavy. Before you knew it, your eyes fluttered shut and you dozed off into a peaceful (and much needed) rest.

~a few hours later~

Your eyes fluttered open as you started to wake up from your nap. You yawned as you sat up on the couch, rubbing your eyes before reaching for your phone. You looked at the time, noticing that you had taken about a three hour nap. You normally don’t take that long of a nap during the day, but pregnancy can be exhausting at times—today being one of those times.

You gave yourself a couple more minutes to wake up before you got up from the couch to go to the bathroom. Once you were finished in the bathroom, you decided to head to the kitchen and make some dinner. Your brunch had worn off, plus you are eating for two now, so appetite is twice as large. You looked in the fridge to see if there was anything you could make for dinner, but you were met with almost empty shelves. With everything that’s been going on, you and Joe haven’t done any grocery shopping lately. You decide to just make one of Joe’s favorite meals, chicken and rice. As you cook the meal, you make note to go grocery shopping when Joe gets back from Louisiana because you know chicken and rice won’t keep you or your baby full for long.

After you finished preparing your dinner, you sat down at the island in the kitchen, enjoying your dinner and scrolling through instagram. As you were mindlessly scrolling and liking posts every couple scrolls, you came across and interesting post.

Joe Burrow seen leaving the LSU spring game with Ja’Marr Chase and others, including Burrows ex girlfriend Alexis Teller.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you looked at the picture of Joe and Ja’Marr leaving tiger stadium with a brunette girl who was smiling up at Joe. You placed your phone down on the counter and brought your hand up to your mouth, in total disbelief that this was even happening. You picked your phone back up and continued scrolling, hoping to not see anymore photos. However, your hopes were crushed. You came across more posts that left you absolutely gutted.

Is Joe Burrow back with former LSU volleyball player Alexis Teller? It sure seems like it based on this photo👀

The picture was Joe at a club, holding some sort of drink in one hand with his other arm around Alexis’s shoulders. The two seemed to be posing for a photo.

Joe Burrow spotted with incredibly hot ex girlfriend, Alexis Teller at club in Baton Rouge. Sources tell me the two are rekindling their relationship. Could we be seeing Alexis in Cincinnati soon?

This picture in particular had you feeling like you had been punched in the gut. Joe was standing around with a group of friends, right next to Alexis. The two seemed to be laughing happily with each other about something. However, it wasn’t the happy expressions that made your heart break…it was the hand on Alexis’ lower back that made your heart hurt the most.

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you looked at the photos. Soon enough the tears were streaming down your face and you were holding back gut wrenching sobs. Deep down you know you shouldn’t be so upset over this. Joe isn’t yours. He’s not your boyfriend. He’s just your baby daddy. Even though he may not be yours, you do love him so, so much. You thought he loved you too…but apparently you thought wrong. You know he isn’t yours and you shouldn’t be this distraught, but boy does it hurt seeing him like that with another woman.

You continued to sob into your hands. You missed Joe so much and you thought he missed you too. Apparently you must have not been on Joe’s mind as much as he was on yours while he’s been gone.

As you let out gut wrenching sobs, your baby boy was kicking up a storm—he must have been picking up on your distress. You brought your hands down to your belly, comforting your unborn son as you tried to calm yourself down. It seemed to be one thing after another for you because you can’t seem to catch an emotional break at all.

First, you find out your pregnant with Joe’s baby. Who didn’t take the news well at first, but he’s clearly came around to it a lot. He loves that baby more than anything. Then, you find out that Sam was the reason for Joe leaving you behind at Ohio Sate all those years ago. Then, Joe and Sam don’t get along anymore, the two constantly fighting causing all of this drama to unfold. Then, you have a pregnancy loss scare from the drama between the three of you. Now, this? Joe being seen with his ex-girlfriend.

You just can’t seem to catch a break.

After a few more good cries, you had finally calmed down enough to get ready for bed. Joe had tried to call you multiple times throughout the evening and into the night, but you let them all go to voicemail. He texted you too, but you ignored every single message.

You couldn’t talk to him right now. Not after what you saw on Instagram.

Once you were done getting ready for the night, you crawled into bed and just laid there, letting your thoughts go wild. You cradled your growing bump in your hands as you stared up at the ceiling and thought about what to do. You know you’ll have to face Joe in a couple days when he gets back. But you don’t know what to do about the situation when he gets back home.

You let out a sigh as you began to rub your swollen tummy, “I don’t know what to do little guy…” you trailed off, letting out another sigh, “I don’t know what to do.”

~a couple days later~

“Y/n?” Joe called out as he entered the house, “I’m home.”

Joe set his bags down in the entry way before making his way further into his house. He figured you’d be in the kitchen or the living room waiting for him, but when he didn’t see you in either room he began to grow worried.

“Y/n!” Joe called out once again. He was met with silence. He frowned deeply at the silence. Joe was hoping you’d be there to greet him at the door or at least in the living room. He missed you so, so much, and he couldn’t wait to see you and the baby growing in your belly (who he also missed very much).

As Joe walked through the seemingly empty house, he heard a noise come from upstairs. He smiled to himself, thinking you were upstairs folding laundry or getting out of the shower. Upon his arrival upstairs, he saw the the light to his bedroom turned on. His smile widened as he saw you standing next to his bedside table, facing the wall. You were looking at the ultrasound picture he had hanging by the bed.

“Hey Y/n.” Joe greeted. You could hear the smile in his voice, making your heart drop and your mind full with sadness. You turned around, taking in how Joe’s face immediately fell when he saw your current state.

Your current state that was caused by him.

“Y/n,” his voice was quiet as he took in your tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “I-is everything OK? Did something happen.” Joe reached out to touch you, but you instantly pulled away.

“Don’t.” You seethed. Joe’s face immediately turned into a look of hurt as you backed away from him. You never pull away from his touch, ever. This left him feeling hurt and extremely confused. What happened while he was away?

Joe watched as you walked out of his room and into your bedroom. He cautiously followed you into your room, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach as he saw what was sitting on the neatly made bed.

A suitcase. A packed suitcase.

“Y/n,” Joe said, sounding desperate and confused, “what is going on? What are you-.” You cut him off, “Is it true?”

Joe furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “Is what true?” he questioned, keeping his blue eyes locked with your eyes. You shook your head as the tears began to well up again.

“Is it true?” you repeated, voice cracking with emotion, “You-you’re back with Alexis?”

Joe felt himself grow pale as his heart sank to his stomach once again at your question. He shook his head, genuinely confused about what you were even talking about.

“I don’t know what you mean?”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the suitcase brushing past Joe. You turned around and narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t give me that bullshit, you know exactly what I mean.” You shot him a glare before you turned back around and made your way down the stairs. Joe followed behind you, his heart pounding and mind racing as he watched you walked toward the front door.

“Y/n, don’t leave, please.” Joe pleaded, “I can explain.” You whipped around and gave him the same glare from earlier.

“I don’t want an explanation Joe. The pictures I saw were enough. You didn’t miss me while you were gone, you didn’t miss our baby, it was all a lie. You said those things to make me feel comfortable and not suspicious of you.”

Joe’s wore a look of hurt and betrayal as you directed those harsh words at him. He would never do such a thing to you.

“Y/n, what are you talking about? Of course I missed you. You and the baby were all I could think about when I was in Louisiana.”

You shook your head and turned back around. Joe reached out and grabbed your hand, turning you back around to look at him. He looked distraught as his blue eyes welled with tears.

“Please don’t go. I love you.”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you looked at Joe. Your heart was breaking as you watched the tears begin to roll down his cheeks. Even though it may break your heart, you know you have to get away for a couple days. You can’t face Joe right now.

“If you loved me Joe, you wouldn’t have your arm around your ex girlfriend. If you loved me, you wouldn’t be at a club with your ex girlfriend.” more tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked into his eyes, “You don’t love me, Joe.” You said, voice pained and slightly above a whisper.

Joe closed his eyes tightly as he let more tears fall. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe you were going to leave because of this. He had so many questions that he knew he wasn’t going to get an answer to. Where are you going? How long will you be gone? Will you even come back?

“How long are you leaving?” Joe mustered out, sniffling after he finished speaking.

“I don’t know. But I know I can’t do this right now.” Was all you said before you walked out the door, leaving behind a broken hearted and genuinely confused Joe.

As Joe watched you walk out of his house, he frowned deeply as he watched your shoulders shake from each sob you let out. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose as he too choked out a sob. Joe’s heart broke knowing you were this distraught because of him. He hoped you would be OK, but most of all…he hoped his son would be OK. Joe knows this kind is distress can’t be good for the baby. This all could have been avoided if he just kept his promise he made to himself the day the baby kicked for the first time.

Joe promised he’d make it up to you after everything he did wrong to you all those years ago.

But Joe knew he broke that promise today. At this point, he could only hope and wish for a miracle that he would get another chance to make it up to you.

hey loves!!

i know i said i wasn’t going to update this week…but i just had to lol

i’m so sorry for this🥴 but it had to be done. i know you might hate me rn…

but it had to be done. we need some more drama, have to keep things interesting!

where do you think Y/n is going to go? Do you think she’ll talk to Joe anytime soon? That’s to be determined…

i hope everyone is doing well! i know we’re all pretty upset and worried about joe right now, but we’ve got to stay positive. we got “good” news—it’s only a grade 1 strain. so that’s the better news we could get! my asks are always open, feel free to send me anything if you need to get something off your chest or just talk.

i love you all! thank you for all of your continued support. you are all the best🤍🤍

tags: @dandelionwrites8 @joeburreauxsworld @theflawedwriter @mrsshiesty @ann288 @ijustcrypretty @theoneandonlyfanz @wickedfun9 @venus-b @hummusxx @stainednailpolishremover @a-moment-captured @alternativemadchen @erinmartin1987 @sirlewisworld @kkrenae @unhingedfangirl @sublimemusic-rebel @meameagirl @ilovejoeburroww @hallecarey1 @j-worlds-blog @blinkloverx3 @jordyn14 @kristencochefski1125 @ryiamarie @unsaidjaelinrose @sinners-98-world @ozwriterchick @hearts4papayas @fangirl-madz @jackharloww @fantasywritersstuff @emherb10

[vladajwrites]

Razor’s Edge

Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations and suicide. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 5499

Notes; no major notes for this chapter! hope you enjoy reading <3 much much love!!

(Not Beta Read)

You woke the next morning to about a dozen missed calls and text messages.

You sat up instantly, wiping the sleep from your eyes. Kirby had texted you nearly 10 times on her own.

“Are you okay?” “Please let me know if you’re safe.”

Your eyes widened as you scanned through her messages. She must have heard about the fight, you felt absolutely terrible, truly hoped it didn’t ruin the rest of the party.

You even had a text message from Jill. Hers held a surprising sentiment to Kirby’s original one.

You found that you also had a missed call from Charlie. He was the first one you decided to respond to. Maybe he could shed some light onto what was unfolding.

The phone rang a few times before Charlie picked up the other line.

“Are you feeling okay today?” Charlie spoke, his voice broke a bit at his words.

“I’m okay. How are you feeling?” You responded, nodding to yourself.

“I could be far worse, he hardly had the chance to touch me.”

“Well, that’s good then.” You responded softly.

The line was silent for a moment.

“Have you heard the news?” Charlie asked. News? Oh God, you hoped he wasn’t in any trouble.

“No, what’s going on Charlie?” You picked at your lip, anxiously waiting for a response. Your head was pounding, you weren’t sure if your nerves, or the alcohol from the night before, were making you so completely sick to your stomach.

Charlie stumbled over his own words for a moment before giving you a proper answer.

“This morning… The police found two students dead. Everyone is saying they were murdered.” He spoke just loud enough to be heard.

You choked back your own shock. Nothing could’ve prepared you for this sort of news. How was this possible? Did you know the students? The thought made your heart sink.

“Do they know-?” You began.

“No, they haven’t released much information. I don’t think they have any suspects yet, too soon to tell.” Charlie was quick to cut you off.

You sighed. The news of this was quick to sober you from your impending hangover.

You spoke a bit more, only briefly, before ending the call.

Irina found you in your bedroom a few moments later, relaying the same information.

“I’m supposed to leave for another work seminar on Monday and wouldn’t be returning until the following week. But I’m not going, I can’t leave you here…” Her words trailed off a bit at the end. She was nervously picking at a loose thread on your duvet cover, something she never did.

You reached up carefully to her hand, urging her to face you again. “No, go. Please, I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“It’s all just so much like times before,” you could see the tears well in her eyes. You immediately knew what she was speaking about. This possibility that this was all connected to the murders that had taken place in Woodboro in 1996 had already crossed your mind. You refused to let yourself dwell on it.

“Go, I’ll be okay. We don’t know anything for certain yet.” You tried your best to reassure her. You secretly wished she’d stay, but you didn’t want this to interfere with anything pertaining to her career.

“Okay,” she nodded, standing up. She stopped in your doorway, turning to face you one more time. “Just, if things get worse in any way. I’ll come home. I promise.”

“Okay.” You replied softly.

You made sure to keep your doors and windows locked that night before bed.

You said your goodbyes to Irina that Monday morning before school, reassuring her that things would be okay.

You arrived at school, welcomed by a bleak sight unfolding in front of you.

News vans were parked as close to the curb as they could be. Students stood around the entrance of the building with sullen and grim expressions. It was horrible, truly a terrible sight.

You wished you could’ve just sat back in your car and made the decision to drive home, lock yourself in your house and bedroom. You had to press on though.

You did your very best to pull your emotions together, keep it all inside for the time being. You pushed your way through news crews and hoards of students, careful to avoid the path of any cameras.

“This all happened the day Sidney Prescott decided to return to Woodsboro.” You heard one of the female newscasters speak behind you.

The pit in your stomach grew at her words.

How could this all be happening? Were you safe? Would Charlie or Kirby be safe? The dread was quick to consume you.

You sat quickly in your first period class, nudging Jill to turn and face you.

“Thank you for checking in on me.” You stated.

She turned to face you sharply, looking you over. “Well Sidney Prescott is my aunt, you know? Of course I’d be worried about anyone close to me.”

You were taken back a bit by her answer. Close to her? You never believed you were, to be completely honest. It still meant something to you though, that she believed you were. You were also surprised to find out that Sidney was her aunt, you hadn’t made that connection before.You couldn’t imagine what she must be feeling during all of this.

“Oh, I truly hope that you and your aunt are able to stay safe.” You answered as earnestly as possible.

She gave you a half smile, giving you a once over again before turning to rejoin her conversation with Kirby.

This was all too inconceivable, too terrible.

You just wanted Charlie, counted the minutes until you knew you’d see him again. You’d be safe with him.

As the clock ran on, more speculation and details came to light. The two girls who were murdered were named Marnie Cooper and Jenny Randall. Your heart sunk impossibly lower as you realized you knew both girls, even if only in passing in the classes you shared.

They were both stabbed, brutally murdered.

It grew increasingly difficult to not connect their murders to previous patterns of torment that plagued Woodsboro’s history.

You stared mindlessly out the window, watching the newscasters gather again outside. You almost entirely missed the bell that rang, releasing students for lunch.

The dread was eating you up from the inside out. Would Charlie be okay? Kirby and Irina? Would you?

How could you possibly know? What could you possibly do?

You had nowhere to run, nowhere to go. You were quick to decide you’d never flee, even if the option were present. You could never bring yourself to leave your loved ones behind.

Your body worked itself up and onward, moving you through muscle memory out towards the exit of the building. Your mind was somewhere, off very far away.

A hand slid across your back to rest on your shoulder. The sudden touch made you jump.

You snapped your head to the left sharply. You were met by Charlie. He was walking along with you, saying something to Robbie who was on the other side of him. You hadn’t even noticed them near you.

“You scared me, Charlie.” You huffed, exhaling the breath that you seemed to have been holding since learning the news that morning.

Charlie turned to look at you then, his expression fell for a second as his eyes darted across your face.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He replied sincerely. His hand slipped from your shoulder for a moment. You were quick to grab his wrist, letting him wrap around you again.

You tried your best to relax your expression a bit more. “Just on edge, it’s okay. I should’ve been paying better attention.”

He studied you for another moment before nodding, pulling you closer into him.

Robbie cleared his throat awkwardly. You and Charlie both turned back to face him after seemingly forgetting there was a third party still nearby.

Your lips twitched upwards into a half smile as you took in the sight of the clunky glasses Robbie now wore.

“New glasses?” You asked, gesturing up at Robbie.

He nodded in response. His hands fumbled around a bit as he took them off and handed them over to you to examine.

You flipped them around, noticing a small camera attached awkwardly to one of the frames.

Robbie mumbled out an explanation for the new gadget. “…and if these murders are connected to the original Stab murders, I want to be the one to catch any real life footage. Ya’ know? Make my own movie.”

You could feel Charlie instantly stiffen up and roll his shoulders back beside you.

Your expression dropped as you handed the glasses back over.

“That’s morbid Robbie.” You replied, shaking your head.

Before he could respond, you felt your phone ring in your back pocket. You pulled it out, looking over the caller ID. Irina’s name flashed on the screen. She was surely just calling to let you know she’d made it to her destination and to check up on you again.

You excused yourself from the group, telling Charlie you’d see him back in class.

The rest of your lunch break passed by as well as it could have after your quick conversation with Irina. You did your best to avoid the spectacle in front of and around the school. It was more difficult to ignore the whispers and constant conversations passed between students about the killings.

In your last period class an announcement played over the speakers. “All extracurricular activities will be disbanded after school today.” The statement was repeated once more before going off the air.

You sighed, sinking further in your seat. There’d be no film club after class today. You peaked slightly behind you to try and catch Charlie’s attention. He was intently scribbling what appeared to be a mess of things on a loose piece of lined paper.

You hadn’t truly realized until that moment just how badly you didn’t want to have to go home and be all alone.

You reached for your phone, composing a text message to Charlie under your desk. “Come over later?”

You sent the message, setting the phone down in your lap.

A loud text tone ringer sounded in the nearly silent classroom. All heads turned to face Charlie who was now fumbling with his phone to switch off the source of the sound.

“Walker, phones on silent please.” The teacher spoke sternly from behind their desk.

You snapped your head back forward, biting back a smile.

A few moments later you felt your phone buzz silently in your lap.

“Yeah, 5pm?” Charlie’s message read.

“Works for me. Sorry about the noise.” You replied.

“Swear you must’ve done it on purpose.” He responded.

You turned back slightly to face him. He had a small smile across his lips as he looked you over.

You smiled back, melting a bit into your seat.

The rest of the school day wrapped up shortly after.

As you returned home, you double and triple checked that your windows and doors were locked. It was only a short amount of time before 5pm. You rushed downstairs once you heard a knock on the door.

Charlie stood on the porch, one hand in his pocket the other was held down casually at his side.

“Come on.” You smiled, motioning him through the door.

Once up in your bedroom you held out your arms to him. He returned the gesture, holding you close against himself.

You inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of him. You walked backwards carefully until you hit your bed frame, you both promptly fell back into bed.

“Thank you for coming over.” You said softly, fixing yourself on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head, “Of course, thank you for having me over.”

You hummed and nodded, playfully reaching over him for the television remote. He picked it up off your nightstand and handed it to you.

You scrolled through the cable channels until landing on daytime production of the original Halloween. You didn’t mind that it had already played halfway through. You had seen the movie twice in its entirety by now.

It was nice and quiet for a few moments. Neither of you really paid any attention to what was being played on the television. It was time to decompress. If even just for a moment, you were able to set aside the horrible thoughts that had been racing through your mind during the entirety of the day.

You had exchanged small talk and conversations about the movie as it played through. It wasn’t until the end credits rolled that you sat up and fixed yourself in bed. The sun had long begun to set. You felt wracked with exhaustion, your mind was beginning to run all over again.

You tried to hold back a yawn when Charlie spoke up.

“Hey, I can leave, let you get some sleep.” He spoke softly, sitting up beside you.

You fervently shook your head no. “No, please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.” Your lips twitched downward.

He studied your face for a moment, not wanting to overstep. He hadn't spent the night with you since the first time you were alone with him. But, the thought of spending the night completely alone terrified you. You felt the current situation extenuated the circumstances.

He sucked in a breath, nodding. “Of course.” He promptly adjusted himself so that you could lay back down on his chest.

He mindlessly ran his fingers over your face and through your hair as you spoke to him.

“I’m terrified, Charlie.” You said just above a whisper.

“Don’t be, doll.” He replied earnestly.

“How could I not be?” You continued. “I’m so scared. What if something were to happen to you or me? And beyond the murders… What happens with Anderson when he returns to school? As if we didn’t already have so much to worry about…”

Charlie halted his movements. You looked up at him, something was so clearly troubling him. You knew he couldn’t really secure yours or his own safety. Still, just having the reassurance from him meant the world to you.

He composed himself again. “I promise you, I’ll take care of it.” He responded, holding out his pinky to swear.

You returned his smile, pulling on your bravest front as well before returning the gesture, hooking your pinky finger within his own.

That night was spent safely and soundly in his arms amidst a mess of heavy limbs and blankets. Your bedroom window was opened a fraction of the way, allowing the early fall breeze into your room.

There was nowhere safer to you than with him by your side. You couldn’t explain it, it was just an intimate and visceral feeling.

The next night was spent that way as well. The following school day had happened about the same way the last had gone by. There was an unsteady and nervous blanket that had covered the town of Woodsboro and you were not immune to the impending feeling of dread. Still no suspects, only very minimal details were slowly released.

Anderson had also still not shown his face that entire Tuesday. You had hated yourself for even looking for him in the crowded hallways at school but you just couldn’t help it. You wished that whatever confrontation that was sure to come from him would just be over with and done already.

It wasn’t until the next day on Wednesday when he finally showed face. He was badly bruised, poorly attempting to conceal a large black eye. You noticed him first while passing between your first and second period. He noticed you shortly after. Your breath caught in your through as your eyes connected. He held such malcontent and anger in his expression. It made your skin absolutely crawl.

You made sure to stay in extra close proximity to Charlie that day.

When Charlie arrived after school at your home for the third day in a row, you made sure to tell him about your interaction with Scotty.

“Did he say anything to you?” Charlie asked.

“No, no. He just looked at me. But,” You shook your head, your face falling towards the ground.

Charlie reached a hand over on your thigh, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“I don’t know. It’s silly to even be worried about it. It’s just, there’s so much going on.” You continued, looking up to meet his eyes again.

Charlie wrapped you gently in his arms, kissing the top of your head.

“It will be alright,” He replied. “I love you.”

You smiled then, nodding. “I love you, too.”

As the sun began to set, you slowly became more sure of yourself. There was no point in worrying so much about things that were entirely out of your control. You had a much welcomed distraction in front of you to keep the thoughts at bay.

It was a bit past 7pm, you were growing hungry and restless.

“Would you like to come downstairs while I make dinner?” You asked, looking over at Charlie.

“Yeah, of course.” He answered.

You climbed over him out of bed, making the split decision to change into something more comfortable.

You threw on an oversized shirt and slid out of the pants you wore leaving you in nothing but your panties underneath. You took careful and slow actions in your movements, taking time to show your body as innocently as you could as you heard Charlie clear his throat and stand up behind you.

You motioned over your shoulder at him to follow you downstairs, his eyes drifted over your legs and upwards to meet your gaze.

You still found his shyness endearing. After all this time, you could still make him squirm so easily.

Dinner was prepared quickly, something simple you had learned to make from your aunt.

There was a labored silence that swept through the kitchen and dining room as you let him help you prepare the meal. You stole touches and long glances when you could, he did the same.

By the time you had both sat down to eat, a familiar tension had set in between the two of you.

You sat closely to him, kicking your feet up into his lap. He sucked in a sharp breath, nearly dropping his fork onto the table as you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position.

It was so simple, yet entirely perfect. You imagined you’d be happy like this, doing this same thing over and over again with him.

By the time you had cleared the table and gotten the kitchen back in order with his help, a knot in your stomach had begun to grow.

Something about seeing him in such a domesticated position made your heart swell and your internal temperature rise.

You got ready for bed quickly, he followed suit.

As you changed the record over on your player, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to that first night you had spent with him alone.

There wouldn’t be a better distraction, a better way to relieve the stress from the past few days, than with his hands against your body. You could give yourself this. Besides, it was hard to not notice the way he had grown more handsy with you in his sleep.

You heard him kick out of his jeans and undress down to his boxers, wearing what he usually wore to bed.

You knew he wouldn’t initiate anything, knew he was too nervous to try. But if you just have him a push-

You dropped the needle onto the record before turning to face him. He was already in bed, the duvet was pulled up just past his waist. He had a smile on his face that met his eyes, his hand was held out to you to help you into bed.

He just looked so stunning like this.

You inhaled deeply, reaching out your hand to him. You carefully climbed into bed, halting your movements once you were straddling his waist.

His eyes widened a bit as he tried to make out the intentions behind your expression.

You steadied yourself, hooking your fingers under the hem of your shirt before promptly pulling it over your head and dropping it down onto the floor.

“Fuck…” He murmured. His eyes traced over the frame of your body as his hands carefully slid up the curves of your waist.

The heat of his hands and the calluses that laced through his palms and fingers made you shiver under his touch.

You dropped your head down, moving your hair behind your ears as his hands cupped around your breasts.

You met his lips harshly, letting your hands rest on either side of his shoulders.

He doubled your neediness, bucking up his hips and kicking down the duvet until you rested flush against the growing bulge of his boxers.

You rolled your hips back, drinking in the whimpering mess that fell from his lips.

You pulled back slightly, pouting your lips. “I want you Charlie.”

“Yeah?” He questioned, searching for your lips again.

You rolled your hips again, letting your fingers slide through his hair. “Mhm.” You replied, sucking in his bottom lip.

His eyes shut tightly before reopening, his expression was dark, nearly tearing into you.

“How bad do you want me?” His voice was rough, and strained. His right hand came up to hold around the back of your neck, willing you to look at him directly.

You smiled at him as sweetly as possible. You wanted to show him- would show him, just how badly you wanted him..

Your lips worked to kiss a steady trail down his neck and chest, making sure to stop and suck at the spots you knew he liked the most.

Your fingers carefully and slowly slid his boxers down his hips until he took over, hastily kicking out of them.

The full length of him still somehow surprised you, regardless of the clear memory you had of that first night you had seen him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to waste anymore time. You quickly took him into your hand, letting your thumb trace his tip. You collected the precum that had already begun to spill out of him.

He shuddered and groaned as you took him into your mouth, letting your hand work around the parts of him you couldn’t push down your throat.

He quickly began to fall apart, you watched him carefully as his steady breathing grew labored and uneven. The sounds that came out of him were so entirely beautiful. His chorus of praise quickened your movements. You pushed him down your throat even further until you were choking and sputtering around him.

His hips raised in an unsteady pattern. His movements only quickened as the tears and spit ran down your face.

“You look so perfect like this doll.” He sighed out. His words made your heart swell. You just wanted to do a good job for him, show him how much you loved him.

He quickly wrapped his arms around your chest and back, pulling you up and under himself so that your head rested comfortably on the pillow at your head board.

You whined in response, you hadn’t had the chance to make him finish yet.

The sudden quickness and strength of his actions caught you slightly off guard. You had no time to process it though, he was already down at your waist, sliding your panties down your hips, leaving a trail of kisses down your legs as he took them completely off.

His lips and tongue were at your entrance and against your clit in an instant. You cried out, arching your back up into him. He gripped your frame steadily, holding you down perfectly for him. His shoulders kept your legs open as wide for him as possible.

It didn’t take long until your eyes welled with tears again, you were seeing stars. The entire room spun around you.

It somehow felt so much better than the first time. You figured it was certainly because you both had to be so much more comfortable with one another.

You had nearly begun to come undone against him when his tongue slowed its movements. You could feel the fingers of his free hand slide carefully through your folds before gently pushing past your entrance.

You cried out his name, letting your hands wildly mess and pull at his hair.

He groaned as you began to shutter and tighten around him.

You felt so incredibly full, it was almost too much- too blinding. Yet, you needed more of him, it didn’t matter if it hurt you, you wanted more of him inside of you, needed him to move faster- tear through you.

As though he could read your thoughts, he slipped another finger inside of you, his tongue worked in quicker paced circles.

The additional pressure sent you crashing over the edge. The tears began to fall down your face as your legs shook uncontrollably. He didn’t stop his movements until your cum dripped down your legs and his face and you were begging him to slow down.

He sat up, making his way up the bed to kiss you again. A wide smirk was plastered across his lips.

You kissed him fervently, lapping up the taste of you against his mouth. The fire was quick to build inside of you again.

You just needed more, wanted more of him so desperately.

You were mindless, drunk on him alone.

You reached down as he held himself above you. You carefully wrapped your fingers around his cock, urging him closer.

You were ready to take the next step, needed to desperately.

He let out a sudden string of expletives, nearly dropping down onto his forearms, as you slid the head of his cock through the folds of your slick cunt.

Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. You held an expression of innocence in your expression, you knew this all must be driving him mad.

“Are you sure?” His face looked so serious for a moment as he studied your expression.

“Yes, please Charlie. I need it.” You practically begged.

“Christ,” He hazily mumbled out as he met your lips again.

He sat back, better adjusting him in front of you. You could tell he was trying to give him a second to compose himself a bit more.

You smiled up at him, giving him an ounce more reassurance. Maybe you needed a bit more as well.

“I- I don’t have a condom.” His face fell for a second at the sudden realization.

You laughed, pulling his hands forward to rest on either side of your shoulders. You arched upwards, tracing a few kisses up his arms before dropping back into the bed.

“I’m on the pill, Charlie. It’s okay, promise.” You replied. Although you had really only started it quite recently, you were certain it must all be working by now.

He nodded, dropping down to kiss you again. He let his arm slide down to take himself in his hand. The muscles in his stomach flexed and contracted as he lined himself up at your entrance.

“I’ll go slow, princess.” He spoke just above a whisper.

You bit your lip and nodded up at him.

Time seemed to impossibly stop as he held your gaze.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he began to slowly push forward. Your mouths fell open in unison as he reached about a third of himself inside of you.

The initial pressure was nearly blinding. The string of moans and whimpers that spilled from both of your mouths fell on your nearly deaf ears.

He steadied himself, dipping his head down to carefully trail soft kisses across your jaw. He stayed that way until your labored breathing grew a bit more steady as you willed yourself to adjust around the size of him.

“More, please.” You choked out. You nodded your head as he looked you over, making sure that you were okay.

He pushed forward in the same tortuously slow pace until you could feel his waist flush against you.

“Is this okay? Are you doing okay?” He could hardly get the words out of himself.

“Mhm,” you sighed out. You relaxed your body as best you could. He rocked carefully in and out of you, helping you relax further into the bed.

The pain slowly melted away, the pressure morphed into a biting pleasure that built from deep within you. It was so different from anything you had felt before. You just needed to feel more of it, wanted him to feel just as good.

“You feel so good, so fucking wet for me.” Charlie sighed as his movements grew quicker and more drawn out.

You met his eyes, him in this state above you nearly had you ready to come undone for him again. You wanted to draw out this moment as long as you possibly could. It was perfect- entirely too perfect.

You arched yourself up into him, the new position led him to hit a different place inside of you. You cried out, nails dragging deeply up his stomach.

“Just like that, please. You’re doing so good for me.” You babbled out. Your eyes screwed back inside your head as his movements grew more erratic and sloppy.

Your praise willed him to find that same spot again. He quickly wrapped his arm around your right thigh before pulling your leg up over his shoulder.

You cried out at the new depth. You met his eyes again, your line of sight was blinded by tears. It was so beautifully painful. He was biting down hard on his pointer finger in an attempt to hold himself together. You could tell he was so incredibly close.

From this new position, Charlie was able to hit the spot you needed over and over again.

You reached around him, leaving scratches down his back that would surely welt over. Neither of you cared. Charlie reacted so well to the pain.

“Fuck, please cum for me. I can’t- I’m going to,” Charlie pleaded.

His words were the catalyst that sent you coming undone under him. The pure pleasure came from deep within you. It was more perfect than anything you had experienced before. You felt it spread within you, from the top of your head to your hands and feet that were alternating between digging into the mattress and grasping into Charlie. Every nerve ending in your body was shot at once.

Your thoughts spun as your eyes blurred further and ears rang out around you. It was only him that could anchor you back to earth.

He fucked you through your high until you were a tearful, babbling mess. The only word that could properly come from your mouth was his own name.

Your vision cleared as you watched him take his turn and fall apart in front of you. You ran your fingers up his arms as his movements stuttered and halted. You could feel the warmth spill from him inside of you. The new feeling almost sent you coming again around him. The sounds that came from him were better than any music you could wish to hear.

It was almost as if you saw the rest of your life with him at that very moment. The look in his eyes as he nearly collapsed down on top of you told you he experienced the exact same thing.

You grabbed him in your arms, kissing him along the top of his head. He lazily wrapped his arms underneath you, pulling you even closer.

You both stayed there in silence for another moment, him still deep inside of you as you pulsed and fluttered around him.

“I love you so much.” He breathed out as the air regained a steady movement in and out of you both.

You pulled his face up to meet your eyes. “I love you even more.” You replied, smiling down at him.

He huffed out a labored laugh, rolling off of you into his back.

He stood up a moment later on unsteady legs, going to grab the towel that hung in your room.

“Not possible.” He smirked as he made his way back to the bed.

He took great care in cleaning you up first before getting himself together. He threw the towel into your laundry hamper before climbing back into bed.

Your eyes felt impossibly heavier than your body as he helped pull you onto his chest.

He prayed a gentle string of praises and ‘I love you’s’ until your eyes fluttered closed and you began to drift off into a deep and much needed peaceful night of sleep.

You were safe at his side. There was truly nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

[katyawriteswhump]

Power of love, part 18

Sorry it’s been a while... possibly should be longer :P I hate leaving a story unfinished, tho'… so I’ll do my best ;)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

...

Eddie POV

“Eddie! Wake up! I can’t lose you again! I can’t!”

Dustin’s pleas bleed into Eddie’s consciousness. He gasps himself awake. Dustin kneels beside him and suddenly screams: “Eddieeee! Thank God!”

Eddie snatches another shuddering breath. “Dustin? Wh-what the—“

“Holy Shit!” Dustin buries his fingers in his hair, unsettling his baseball cap. “We were trying to break into the Starcourt base and get to you—rescue mission 2.0—then there was this epic boss-monster roar. We figured it was another Vecna-induced quake, then I picked up police chatter about a flood and… We just stumbled across you two! How did you wind up here?”

Um, pass? Eddie’s shivery and damp—damper than can be justified by the fat tear dripping from Dustin’s nose. Other than that, he’s plain confused. Why is he sprawled among scrubby bushes near the banks of Lover’s Lake?

Oh. Shit.

An avalanche—nope, a tsunami—of memories gush through him, dumping a shitload of unsettling debris in their wake. He was captured by O’Sullivan’s goons, and then…

“Steve!” Eddie sits bolt upright.

Steve lies a couple of feet away, slumped on his side. Robin is with him. She rolls him onto his back and grimaces at Dustin and Eddie, who’s so still processing.

“I can’t wake him,” she says. “Shit, shit, shit. What do we do?”

“Is he breathing?” Dustin shuffles over on his knees. 

“Yes… No. I don’t know.” Robin fluffs her hair. “He’s all limp and, uh, impressively clean. Not that that matters. I guess I’m so used to seeing him all messed up. How messed up is that? Oh God! Steve! Steve?”

She jostles him frantically. Eddie levels at her side. Steve looks peaceful in a bad way—eyes closed, creepily doll-like, his face waxy and wet hair plastered flat. And, yup, cleaner than he was. Though that was a pretty low standard to beat.

“Nancy should be here any minute,” Dustin says. “We have to get him to a hospital.”

Robin fumbles at Steve’s wrist. “I can’t find a pulse! I can’t… It’s not… He isn’t…”

She and Dustin share a terrible look, sending a shudder through Eddie’s veins. O’Sullivan murdered Steve. Granted, the subsequent supernatural tidal wave—and the arrival of an equally supernatural Steve to save Eddie from drowning with a kiss—was both cool and inappropriately hot. How Steve apparently opened a gate to another dimension and flushed the bad guys down that drain was mega MEGA cool.

Doesn’t mean that Steve is unmurdered.

Eddie’s brain starts racing madly, tho’ he isn’t flipping out. He should be. And yet… What was it Steve said? Each time he died, he came back a bit different.

You know what, Babe? Eddie presses tightly balled fists to his eyes. If I drowned last night, I reckon I’m different this time too.

Or maybe he’s simply himself again. More than he’s been since Crissy died. He’s the Dungeon Master. The dude who cackled demonically at the entire realm of forced conformity. Now HIS realm—the realm of fantasy and magic he conducts like a maestro—is real.

He squeezes himself between Robin and Steve, which is easier than it should be. She’s drowning in sobs. He slips a hand beneath Steve’s stupidly-heavy head. Steve no longer looks bruised from being hit, and there’s no sign of bleeding.

“What are you doing?” Dustin wrings at Eddie’s soggy shirt.

Robin paws him, too. “Stop it! You don’t know CPR. You make him sick.”

“Not any more.” He wiggles himself free. “Steve said I was part of this now—in healing me, I reckon he’s been passing on his magic juju. Or whatever. Last time we kissed, it went fiiiine, and I got a super-radical hunch I can bring him back.”

Robin was right about one thing, tho’. As Eddie closes in, it’s clear Steve isn’t breathing. 

You got this, Munson.

“C’mon Sleeping Beauty. Wakey, wakey.”

He steals a gentle kiss. Steve’s soft lips are not quite cool, which is reassuring. Eddie, meanwhile, feels his own heart beating in his mouth. He’s never been as thirsty in all his life as he is to have Steve kiss him back.

Stevie, I love you so, so much.

His lips begin to tingle. Then a crazy-ass electric spark throws him back an inch. Steve’s lashes seem to flutter. Or is he imagining it?

He huddles Steve against him: “Dammit, wake up! You’re not ditching me again, Harrington.” 

…

Steve POV

Steve would know Eddie’s kiss anywhere. It instantly wrenches him from…

…Where the heck am I, anyhow?

Might’ve been heaven, for all he knows. He’d been warm and safe and loved.  Now, he is stuck in that shitty in-between place again and he wants OUT.

He can’t see Eddie. All he can fathom is wet fog. Worse, Eddie’s kiss is frustratingly like being kissed in a dream—however hard he strains to feel, it’s toe-curlingly unsatisfying. It makes him bat-shit crazy-desperate to get back into his body, if just to thrust his tongue toward Eddie’s tonsils and do that curly-thingy that makes Eddie growl like a ravenous grizzly. Which in turn makes Steve totally hard and—

“You can stay with me now, Steve. You passed my gifts to you on to him. He has a warrior’s heart and can help her fight the darkness. They can protect our town together. Your work is done.”

“No way!” yells Steve, madder than ever. Freaky-ass fairy-water-god-spirit is a swirl in the mists, into which he kicks a spectral foot. “I need to go back, and I need MY powers, and I want to learn to control them and to be a ton more badass, and I need Eddie to have powers too, because… You listening, asshat?”

He doesn’t yell the next bit—We never even fucked! He’s damn sure his spirit-come-stalker hears it anyway. It’s kinda embarrassing, but not like he can stop himself thinking it.

“I love him!” fumes Steve. “He said he loved me too, and I genuinely don’t think he was shitting me. Do you realise how long I waited for this? Christ, and have you MET Vecna? O’Sullivan and his stormtroopers were My Little Ponies compared to that cuckoo son-of-bitch. Eleven is gonna need us BOTH!”

…

Eddie POV

“He’s breathing, right?” Robin whispers, as if saying it too loud might chase Steve away again. “Tell me I’m not imagining it.”

“Nooooo, you’re not imagining it.” Eddie’s cuddling Steve pretty tight, so he should know. Colour seeps back into Steve’s cheeks and his lips, too, which suddenly hitch into an unlikely sneer. Steve begins muttering restlessly.

“Babe? You awake? You hear me?” Eddie trembles with relief. “I’m here, Stevie. I’m right here.”

“Jesus,” murmurs Steve, “you’re worse than my father! I need to be there for Eddie, for Robin, for all of them. Like, hours ago! I can’t just quit looking out for them. I mean, not saying I’m Schwarzenegger or anything, and Eleven’s pretty handy when she’s got her powers. Nance has a decent aim with her sawn-off shotgun, but most of those numpties? They’re kinda helpless without me.”

“What’s he saying?” demands Dustin.

“Uuuuh… Not sure he’s talking to us.” Only about us. Eddie cuddles Steve closer than ever. He recalls that disembodied voice at the height of the flood. “GET OUT OF MY TOWN AND STAY AWAY FROM MY KIDS!” Meanwhile, Steve keeps muttering:

“This is such a bunch of bull! I mean, I know I’m technically an adult, but I say this is kidnap. My Dad might be a dick, but I bet he’ll sue your watery butt.”

Okay, so if Steve’s bitching at his water-fairy-guardian, is he back with Eddie or not?

“What’s going on? “ Nancy Wheeler’s unexpected voice breaks Eddie’s complete focus on Steve. “Oh my God! Is he..?”

“Chill.” Eddie conjures a goofy grin he doesn’t quite feel. All the same, the real Eddie Munson is back in business, totally metal, and flipping the bird in the face of goddamn death: “He’s gonna be fine, Nancy. He’s gonna be just fine.”

...

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

[rbbalmung]

Pre-Timeskip Straw Hats Ranking:

1. Chopper - My baby. He’s like a little Ghibli character! I loved his design and he has such a good heart 🥹

2. Zoro - He’s so cool! I love how loyal he is and he always has the best fight scenes.

3. Luffy - Didn’t expect to like him this much, but here we are! God, he’s just such an interesting character. I really like characters with a strong moral compass/sense of their own justice, and Luffy fits that so well. Out of all the captains, I’d want him to be mine.

4. Sanji - He’s a little cringe (I am a woman), but he’s got really good scenes mixed in there! (Like that scene with Enel? Legendary).

5. Franky - TBH, he didn’t grow on me until Enies Lobby. But Franky is a homie! He’s SUPER!

6. Robin - Another character that took a bit to grow on me. I love how she just takes things in stride, it’s really funny. Her and Franky are my fave duo, so I love when they get scenes together!

7. Brook - I LOVE SKELETONS! I love his puns and his backstory made me cry. Minus points for the underwear thing, though

8. Nami - I like Nami! I wish she got a bit more control of the situations she gets thrown into (especially Thriller Bark, I felt so bad for her).

9. Usopp - I don’t hate Usopp, don’t get me wrong! He’s just kind of annoying. He’s the sniper of the crew, so it’s irritating that he rarely does any sniping. He also complains/is cowardly A LOT. I get that’s his character, but…

Time skip Ranking (I’m in Zou right now. Light spoilers for up until then?):

1. Luffy - My Number 3 pick overall! I love him so much, I can’t even. He’s really stepped it up! Something I really like about him is the slight changes in his personality after MarineFord. You can tell it effected him more than he lets on and I love that Oda is subtle about it. 10/10 protagonist!

2. Franky - SUPER!!! I just love him, he’s so fun! I may be a bit influenced because he’s my brother’s fave (we’re watching it together). Like Luffy, I love how positive and kind Franky is. I also love his power ups!! He’s so cool!!

3. Zoro - Still cool, haha. My opinion of him hasn’t changed much since before timeskip - he’s a really consistent, interesting character! I also love how he’s eager to fight, in a weird way. Nothing scares this man, it’s cool to see!

4. Usopp - Biggest jump on this list! But damn, I love Usopp now. He’s mellowed out a bit and takes a bit more of an active role on the crew! (Spoiler) He has Haki!!! I didn’t see that coming, but it’s by far the coolest Usopp moment yet!

5. Robin - As the sole introvert on a crew of extroverts, I love the dynamic she brings! Like I mentioned before, her “go with the flow” attitude is really unique and fun to see! I do wish they’d let her fight more, even though she has more of a supporting role.

6. Nami - Ever since Punk Hazard, I’ve come to realize the Nami is the heart of the crew. You can see how much she cares for everyone and wants the best for the people around her!

(I may start to sound mean from here on out, but I promise I like all the Straw Hats)

7. Sanji - SANJI STOP BEING CRINGE I SWEAR TO GOD. I know the Whole Cake is coming up soon, so I’m holding out for some major character development there. I just don’t like that women have taken over most of his screen time and that he holds resentment against Okamas. Like, not cool bro.

8. Chopper - He’s kind of been reduced to a mascot character. They never give him anything to do anymore (granted, he wasn’t in Dressrosa much so maybe I’ll be proved wrong). I don’t hate his new design, I just liked the other one better. And apparently he’s supposed to be 17??

9. Brook - Brook, for me, has filled the role Usopp had before timeskip. He’s always loud and being cowardly, it gets to be a little grating. He still has good moments, don’t get me wrong, but I wish he was a bit more like he was in Thriller Bark.

Bonus! Jinbe - Dad energy 👍 He was a real homie for Luffy on MarineFord, and I’m excited to see the dynamic he brings when he joins the crew!

[wingdingery]

20 questions for writers

Thanks for the tag @wildsofmarch :)

(Answering most of these questions about wingdingery but including some counts from other accounts because I was curious.)

1. how many works do you have on AO3? 24 DC (78 total)

2. what's your total AO3 word count? 283,276 DC (795,332 total)

3. what fandoms do you write for? Dick Grayson (I’m usually tunnel visioned into one fandom for years at a time)

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos? I don’t perceive stats/counts on my works or others’ thanks to a site skin so this is a mystery to me!

5. do you respond to comments? I try to! But I don’t have time consistently so I usually fall into the trap of falling behind → feeling guilty about replying late but also feeling guilty about replying to newer comments when I haven’t gotten through the older ones yet → paralyzed into not replying to anything → force myself to finally clear my inbox months later → run out of time and begin the vicious cycle all over again.

(But I do read all of them as they come in and appreciate them so much! The number of times I am driven to reread old works/write more due to a kind comment cannot be counted.)

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? once upon a time, maybe?

My non-happy endings are usually more ambiguous than overtly angstsy (on main, at least – the darkfic endings are equally angst, I think).

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I’ll pick hospitality for dummies just because I think that’s my lowest-stakes/happiest DC fic so far. But I do tend to write happy endings in general.

8. do you get hate on fics? The standard fare ship hate.

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yep! I’m not really sure what “what kind” means… I’ll write pretty much anything if I’m in the right mood for it and I can make it make sense for the characters.

10. do you write crossovers? I like writing fusions but I’ve only contemplated writing one crossover in my life and never actually did it, so I think the answer is no.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? Not as far as I know!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? right through my walls has a Spanish translation courtesy of Luck__y!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I’ve done a lot of co-slinging-ideas-at-the-wall but I’ve never actually co-written a fic. I’m interested in trying it but my writing process is so wild that I’m reluctant to ask anyone to get near it. 😂

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? All-time is so hard to say! I shipped BruDick a long time ago and I’m back here now, so BruDick, I guess?

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will? If this question is referring to published WIPs, I will finish all of them. This year, even. You heard it here first.

(If unpublished… way too many to count, lol.)

16. What are your writing strengths? From what people have said, I think my top 3 are dialogue, characterization, and generally having wild/unexpected ideas (otherwise known as crack played so straight it develops angst).

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I think my writing is pretty plain. I have next to zero visual imagery (some people read or write like they’re watching a movie and seeing the scenes go by, but all I think in are words) so consequently my writing isn’t particularly descriptive unless I really try and figurative language is hard for me to come up with.

I used to stress about this a lot, but I’ve heard that this makes my writing feel easy to read, especially for non-native English readers, so I’ve made my peace with not being particularly poetic.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I always write limited third POV so I’ll typically use a phrasing like “…,” they said in [language] or They said something in [language] if the POV character doesn’t understand it. I only ever write it untranslated if something about the exact wording is relevant to the plot (but even then, I only highlight the specific word(s) after).

19. First fandom you wrote for? Nancy Drew… the yellow hardback books Nancy Drew…

20. Favourite fic you've written? Currently, make a mercy out of me. As much as I love writing fics with a lot of plot and action and shenanigans, it was really satisfying to craft a quiet character/relationship study that’s introspective without feeling too heavy.

tag @artenon @faiasakura @chejuu @roipecheur you're it!

[estrellami-1]

Soft Touch Baby

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3

Eddie doesn’t look directly at Steve the rest of the time everyone else is still there. Side glances, here and there, but every time Steve looks at him (which is a normal amount, Robin, shut up), he looks away. It feels like high school all over again, when Steve was a coward and a bully and Eddie was lower on the totem pole than Steve would ever dare to tread.

Steve does what he knows to do. He provides drinks and snacks, plays the perfect host, and tries not to pay attention to his own feelings.

Once the kids leave, the house is silent for a moment. Eddie, of course, breaks it, and Steve almost has to smile. “Another beer?” Eddie asks, shaking his almost-empty one before tipping it up to his mouth for the last dregs.

Steve considers his Coke, considers Eddie’s beer, then nods. “Only if you do, though,” he says, almost grinning.

Eddie grins wide, but he still won’t look directly at Steve. “Whaddya take me for, a two-pot screamer?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Were you not the one saying you shouldn’t be driving?”

Eddie stills then, once again halfway in the fridge, before moving away and shutting the door, hands empty. “You’re right. I can- I should… I’ll go, sorry, I-”

“Whoa,” Steve says, moving to intercept him. “What’s going on? You’re fine, stay. I don’t… it doesn’t matter. The drinks, the driving. If you can drive. It’s fine. You can stay.” Please don’t say it, don’t make me say it. Don’t make me beg.

“Okay,” Eddie says finally, and Steve lets out a breath he doesn’t remember holding.

“Okay,” Steve agrees quietly. They get their beers and sit on the couch. Steve doesn’t think about the careful space between them.

“The masks,” Eddie starts, fidgeting with his rings, ripping the paper label on the beer. “That’s from experience.”

Steve takes a drink before answering. “I was a dick in high school. I’m trying not to be.”

“You’re succeeding.” More fidgeting, more ripping. “Sometimes you wear a mask for so long you can’t even remember who you are underneath.” His leg starts shaking. Steve resists the urge to put his hand on it.

“Sometimes,” Steve allows. He looks straight at Eddie. “Sometimes the best mask is the real you.” Eddie pulls a piece of hair in front of his face, the way he does when he’s overwhelmed or flustered. Steve wants to bury his fingers in Eddie’s hair. He forces himself not to think about it.

It’s silent for a moment—or as silent as it can be with Eddie—before Steve takes a breath. “You’re really good with the kids.”

Eddie snorts. “The little shits. They’re good kids, I haven’t done anything.”

“Damn lie,” Steve says quickly, like it’s a reflex. “You’re good with them. They love you. You match their energy.”

Eddie takes a drink to hide the smile trying to break through. “So what I’m hearing is I’m childish.”

“Shut up,” Steve laughs, leaning over to gently push Eddie’s arm. “Sometimes, sure, but that’s not a bad thing.”

“Mhm. Mister I’m the mom friend of the group and you’d better listen to me, young man.”

Steve laughs again, louder. “I’m the mom friend?”

Eddie raises a challenging brow and gestures around. “You ferry the kids everywhere, your house is always open for movie or game nights, you keep a frankly concerning amount of snacks on hand at all times…”

Steve shakes his head, still laughing, but sobers. He wants to be brave. And if he can’t yet, not about the thing eating him, maybe he can about this. “The snacks aren’t just for the kids.” He picks at the label of his own bottle. “Sometimes… real food is just… too much, y’know?”

Eddie hums. “I think so. Like, the preparing of it?”

Steve shakes his head. “Not always. Sometimes. Sometimes it’s just the thought of it that’s too much. Snacks are easier. I dunno why.” He huffs a breathless laugh. “Maybe I’m just fucked in the head.”

Eddie snorts. “I think we’re all fucked in the head, after everything.” He shrugs when Steve turns to look at him. “‘S not a bad thing.”

Steve raises a brow with a wry smile. “I think my multiple concussions would disagree with you.”

Eddie furrows his brows. “Dude, if you’re not fucked in the head after all those, I’d be worried.” He pauses, looks away, looks back. “Anything come from those?”

“From the concussions?” Eddie nods. “Some. I’m fine.”

Eddie sighs, looks away again, looks back again. “You ever gonna let someone else take care of you?”

Steve offers a wry smile. “What’s it we were talking about earlier, about masks?”

Pt 4

[catdemontraphouse]

I’ve got a lot of “Nightmare Realm Blunt Rotation” written but I write extremely non linearly, like that’s just my natural work process? So nothing ready to post because it’s all filling and no bun, if that makes sense. This word sandwich hasn’t got the bread encasing it yet. I struggle with “beginning” and “end” but I’m a pro at random dialogue middle.

Maybe I’ll just figure out an upload structure somehow where that could work 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

What do you want me to attempt to finish first? Some of the chapters are supposed to take place later than others chronologically but like, you know, the whole I don’t work in order thing is a problem so… tell me what you wanna read!…plz?

⚠️Option 1- Chapter where Bill is forced to help Mabel with her crystal business livestreams and he becomes infamous for eating rocks and asbestos on Instagram

⚠️Option 2- Chapter where Pyronica and Amorphous Shape visit Gravity Falls to check on Bill, they end up as freeloaders in the Mystery Shack and they drive Stanley fucking crazy

⚠️Option 3- Chapter where Dipper finds out Bill is telling everyone he’s the Pines twins’ uncle and he’s so pissed about it

⚠️Option 4- Chapter where a serious Pines family fight breaks out after a discussion about a gorilla-orangutan hybrid gets out of control

⚠️Option 5- Mabel, Dipper and Pacifica attempt to include Bill in the town’s annual Founders Day festival as a form of “enrichment” and the results are interesting

⚠️Option 6- Mabel and Dipper’s grandpa Shermie comes to visit and I’ll figure out some kind of stupid drama between the three brothers involving sibling rivalry and Sherman Pines’ train otaku travel youtube channel

⚠️Option 7- Mabel and family discover that Bill has a keen sense of smell. Stanley, Bill, and Mabel’s Pet Kunekune pig Walter (who is a former Theraprism patient who was reincarnated) attempt a grift involving boutique perfumes that are not FDA approved and cause rashes as a way to profit off Bill’s olfactory talent

⚠️Option 8- Bill accepts a 7 day long affirmations challenge after Ford stupidly bets Bill that he can’t hack it in exchange for five minutes of Ford’s unfettered attention

⚠️Option 9- Pines family rents out Pacifica’s parents cursed lake house and stupid shit ensues, Bill being weird at the beach and annoying Ford

⚠️Option 10- Ford makes a messy deal with Bill for him to use his neuron re-wiring powers to restore Fiddleford’s busted ass brain at the cost of allowing Bill to move into a storage closet in the Mystery Shack instead of sharing a room at Mabel’s house with the pig. Can Bill and Fids manage to get along well enough to keep the peace and can Bill learn to stop being so needlessly jealous? Idk let the drama bitch-fest begin (not rly angst more like trashy reality tv, I don’t do serious for extended periods of time ok)

⚠️Option 11- Bill starts getting paid in valid US currency instead of bricks of cheese and decides he will become Ford’s sugar daddy in a cringe attempt to woo him (guy works part time doing crystal sale livestreams for Mable’s business he is not rich)

[lilolilyr]

Send me a flufftober day + what ship you want me to write the prompt for and i might feel some inspiration :D

Ships I take prompts for are in the tags! You can also prompt something else if you think i might know it :)

Already written: # flufftober 2023 on Ao3

Day 1 - Mirandy Day 2 - Bering and Wells

Day 3 - Mirandy Day 4 - Mirandy

Day 5 - Bering and Wells Day 6 - Callian

Day 7 - Bering and Wells Day 8 - Avorah

Day 9 - Andromaquynh Day 10 - Bering&Wells

Day 11 - Bering and Wells Day 12 - Milippa

Day 13 - Berena (Holby City) Day 14 - Berena

Day 15 - Janeway/7 Day 16 - GM ScarletMay

Day 17 - Berena Day 18 - GM Killercule

Day 19 - Bering and Wells Day 20 - Mirandy

Day 21 - Bering and Wells Day 22 - Mirandy

Day 23 - Fangorn (LotR) Day 24 - Arawen

Day 25 - Bering and Wells Day 26 - Janeway/7

Day 27 - Bering and Wells Day 28 - GOmens

Day 29 - Bering and Wells Day 30 - MacPhrack

Day 31 - Mirandy

My stuff on tumblr | ao3 | headers | Send prompt ask!

Flufftober Daily prompts:

(& I might write more than one for the same day so still hmu with prompts for any of the upcoming days even when I already wrote a note with a prompt or an idea)

Day 1 I've got you ✓

Day 2 Family, Friends, Loved ones ✓

Day 3 Wait you love me? I always have. Idk Berena maybe? Can’t really think of any storyline here, maybe I’ll just do one of the bonus prompts today went with the alt prompt (✓)

Day 4 Cinderella Moment could be Mirandy with Andy at a ball or sth but I think sb on the discord is already writing that and I already had a Mirandy one anyway… prompts? Edit: Wrote it anyway ✓

Day 5 x+1 prompts? possibly something Bering & Wells? I‘d like to write more W13 fics ✓

Day 6 Corn Maze I feel like doing sth with kids so Berena or Mirandy or maybe Callian? ✓

Day 7 Porch Swing Bering&Wells as prompted by purlturtle- I’ll try my very best! ✓

Day 8 Rainy Day I know I already wrote this for Milippa several times but I kinda want to? Or maybe Avorah… idk yet ✓

Day 9 …at first sight I want to do a flashback fic with hate at first sight when they’re together now tho. Maybe kiradax? Edit: didn't have time for something longer, went with an idea for an Andromaquynh drabble instead. Really want to write that kiradax story some day tho! ✓

Day 10 Love of my Life possibly Bering&Wells for a prompt from Ao3, but I'm not sure yet, can't really think of sth to write, unless sb has a specific prompt I'll probably go with an alt ✓

Day 11 Sweet Tooth could be anyone! Myka, Andy (both Andrea or Andromache xD), also Miranda maybe, Madeleine,… Prompts? I’m making this a first come first serve so whichever character I get promoted first, I’ll write! Edit: got an Bering & Wells prompt from Lavendelhummel! & one from an anon! ✓

Day 12 Fire&Ice Milippa fantasy AU ✓ (I did get a prompt for Bering & Wells smut too, we’ll see if I have time)

Day 13 Wrong(…) prompts? Also maybe add what wrong thing it should be about! Edit: writing sth for Berena ✓

Day 14 I hate it - no you don’t. This feels like a smut prompt to me xD safewords mentioned but not used *smirk* but which ship? Berena? Andromaquynh? ✓

Day 15 Emergency/Confession/Adventure - maybe a Mirandy Wip I have could work for confession, idk yet edit: wrote a J7 drabble ✓

Day 16 singing one another to sleep Floreleine maybe? Ended up with ScarletMay, still GM ✓

Day 17 encouragement to achieve a goal ✓

Day 18 did you plan for this to happen? Andronilynh maybe? Or Librarywives? ✓

Day 19 keeping someone safe possibly Bering&Wells for a prompt from Ao3 (guys pls send me tumblr asks instead if in any way possible) ✓

Day 20 pumpkin Mirandy in collab with TheWalkingMeepa! ✓

Day 21 swoon got a Bering & Wells prompt for that one, thx Ida! I'll try to think of something :) ✓

Day 22 Picking (flowers/picking sb up/picking out a dress/picking a song for our wedding/…) mayhaps a smutty mirandy continuation of day 20?? ✓

Day 23 trinket send me ship ideas? Or I'll just combine with Tolkientober day 23 prompt 'hobbits' and write something to the ideas on this post. Also this one maybe ✓

Day 24 melting maybe Arawen? Tolkientober prompt of the day is 'kiss' so that kinda goes together :D ✓

Day 25 nook Tolkientober prompt of the day is 'sting' which... Might fit xD but idk what to write to it really? Maybe I’ll just stick with B&W ✓

Day 26 fireplace I feel like J7 ✓

Day 27 outdoor event prompts? If I don't get any prompts I might go the tolkientober route and combine it with the prompt 'family' edit: went with extra 6 for B&W (✓)

Day 28 soothing touch - maybe ineffable spouses with snek Crowley ✓

Day 29 hey, wake up! Prompts? At a stretch I can always do B&W again bc I want to get some more fics in that fandom anyway. Maybe combo with extra5? ✓

Day 30 self worth/self love prompts? Maybe just a singular character here? Tolkientober prompt is 'gardener' so if I don't get any prompts I might go with some Sam self love… or write sth Mac centric for MacPhrack? ✓

Day 31 dreams do come true ohh if the mirandy one doesn’t work for confessions it Will work here ✓

And then there are also those, for when I really can’t think of something to write for a day’s prompt, but you can also prompt me fandoms for these:

Extra 1: hot chocolate ✓ by accident in combination with day 8!

Extra 2: you’ve told your parents?

Extra 3: wearing each other’s clothes

Extra 4: candles/lanterns/fairy lights

Extra 5: oh no, you’re a morning person! - lavendelhummel prompted Bering and Wells with Myka as the morning person ✓ in combination with day 29!

Extra 6: reverse all the roles ✓ on day 27 for Bering and Wells

Extra 7: fairytale retelling maybe McPhrack

Extra 8: new occupation

Extra 9: crossover

Extra 10: sharing the last table at a café Mirandy AU first meeting for day 3 ✓

You can also send me more specific prompts, if you already have an idea for what exactly you want me to write for a day!

Only taking prompts from people who actually interact with my stuff. Reblogs and friendly ao3 comments get prio, but if you just hit kudos on ao3 in the past or sth I also won’t ignore you, I’ll just do others first! (Tumblr likes, obviously, don’t count for shit)

flufftober Event Blog

[gguksgalaxy]

4:38pm | Minghao 1k

Fluff (very very slightly suggestive), requested by anonymous, request me here

info: I didn't have much in mind for this so I'm not really satisfied but I still hope that you like it!

Minghao’s apartment is quiet when you enter. That's how it seem at first. Upon further inspection, you can hear his shower running. His shoes by the door tell you that it indeed is him and not one of his roommates. Good. You’re looking for a quiet place to study, and your boyfriend was about the only person who knew how to actually be quiet when you asked. 

Or so you thought. 

About 30 minutes later he finds you sitting cross-legged at his living room table. Bent deeply over your anthropology book. He chuckles under his breath. Before you can even look up at him, you feel water drip onto the back of your neck. 

You squeal. “Minghao!” You look up to find him behind you with his hair still wet from the shower.

He laughs now, bending over you and closing your book. “I think that’s enough anthology for today.” 

“Anthropology,” you correct. “I have an exam in three days.” 

“And you’ve been studying non-stop for almost a week now. Enough is enough, babe.” He looks down at you, keeping his finger on top of your book in order to keep it closed. “You can argue with me, but I know you just reread the same paragraph 10 times and haven’t picked up a single thing.” 

You frown. “How long have you been watching me?” 

“Long enough to make tea,” he says, motioning towards the kitchen behind him. “Come on, you need a break. Didn’t you get up at six this morning?”

“Five,” you mumble in return. 

Your boyfriend fights the urge to roll his eyes and you push him back still. “Hey! Don’t shove me!” He steadies himself on your shoulders. “Listen, taking one evening away from that ancestry book of yours really won’t hurt anybody. Definitely not your poor boyfriend who’s feeling awfully neglected.” He gives you his version of puppy dog eyes. Big eyes, pursed lips, slightly raised eyebrows. It’s always a challenge and a plea. 

Today had been a long, tiring day. He had been right, about you staring at the page unable to read. Maybe he’s right about this too. Maybe you do need a night off. Just a bit of relaxation. 

“I can see the cogwheels turning in your pretty little head,” he muses. “I’ll get the tea.” 

“Hao,” you trail as he walks off. 

“I know, no sugar.” 

You chuckle. “Bring me something to eat.” 

He stops, shooting you a glare over your shoulder. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“Uh,” you think, “do peanuts count?”

“I’m whooping your ass when I get back.” 

You’re still smiling at him when he comes back. “You know that you’re the best boyfriend ever, right?”

He sits down beside you, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your year. “I know, but that doesn’t mean I won’t judge you for not eating.” 

You sigh. “Listen, I just forgot, and I was too lazy to find anything to eat on campus.” 

Minghao sighs, fingers absentmindedly carding through your hair. “I know you don’t want me to baby you but I’m seriously considering making you packed lunch.”

“I’ll be back to normal when exam season is over,” you shrug. 

He shakes his head, kissing your cheek again. “Just want you to take care of yourself.” 

You nod, leaning into him. He’s always been attentive, and he can get a bit aggressive about it when he wants you. Like, he will respect you when you want space, but he will also nag at you to take care of yourself until you do. Just a little. With a lot of love. He has made you realise that taking time off is important. It’s just that when you get stressed, you tend to forget. Which is why you’re so grateful to have him. 

He cuddles closer to you, leaning back against the couch. “So, what are we doing?”

“I don’t mind. You’re the neglected boyfriend, you pick an activity,” you tease.

Minghao is so beautiful like this. When he’s not trying. Not that he isn’t always, but there is something so ethereal about him when he’s not paying any mind to it himself. The slope of his jawline, the taunt stretch of his neck as he scans the room for something to do. 

“I mean…,” he trails off, looking back at you with a hint of mischief. You recognise that look all too well.

“No,” you deadpan. “I am way too tired for any of that.”

He laughs, nuzzling into your shoulder when you try to pull away from him. "I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I just showered.” 

You yawn, and in return, so does he. “If you can’t think of anything I will go back to reading my anthropology book.” 

Minghao whines, shaking you. “Anything but that stupid analogy book.”

“Stop mocking it!” 

“I will when it stops receiving more attention than me.” 

“You are such a baby sometimes!” you accuse mid laughter. 

He shrugs. “I like to accept and show all facets of my personality.”

“How philosophical of you good sir. Now please choose an activity or I will simply choose to nap on you.” You sprawl out in his lap, not really caring that you’re on the floor. His rug is much softer than his couch anyway. “You have literally 30 seconds before I pass out, I’m warning you.” 

Minghao groans, shifting your body and before you know it you’re hauled onto the couch. “Fine, nap, but not on the fucking floor.”

“I bet the floor’s seen less fucking than the couch,” you counter with one eye open.

He stops midway sliding in next to you, grimacing. “You have a fair point. Bed it is.” 

Request me here | © GguksGalaxy 2018 - 2023

[ten-cent-sleuth]

4, 10, 15 and 16 for the writer asks please! :)

Coming right up! :)

4. A story idea you haven’t written yet?

I answered this here as well, but I’m happy to trot out another one. It’s not like I’ll be running out of unwritten ideas any time soon. xD

Since you’re like my Hotchniss mutual (😜), here’s the entirety of a plot bunny I jotted down in a Doc literally just titled “Hotchniss Idea”—

Prentiss is always joining groups. Growing up and moving around, she was categorically, methodically The New Girl. When she joined the FBI, her colleagues frequently iced her out because of her mother and she had to wriggle her way into their dynamics. She often (or at least twice: Doyle and Hotch) dated men who had already experienced marriage and fatherhood. One day, an unsub somehow picks up on this (or he’s been stalking her? or she tells him all this by herself to build rapport?) and—in front of the whole team, naturally—urges her to pick him instead and for once to get to build something. “You’ve always had to fight for approval and justify the space you take up. Affection from your mother, friendship during your youth, trust from your team—it’s never been free, has it? With me, it would be, I swear to you. My love would be unconditional.”

This would, of course, lead to some fluffy team reassurances aaand Aaron getting to comfort Emily about any legitimate lingering insecurities. Welp, it’s not the most fleshed-out idea, and I don’t know that I’d ever get around to writing it, but there we go. :3

10. What is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

Ooh, I’m glad you asked this one because interestingly, my answer changed a couple of months ago!

The oldest WIP that I still haven’t shelved as “probably not going to finish this” is an Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Secret Service AU, which I started in like 2020 and which I still consider my baby, my pride and joy, my pet project. However, I suppose the question is more about a draft that has by now been completed, so I will instead say—

—this sucker ☝🏽☝🏽 sat in my drafts from June 12, 2023 (or, uh, June 13 at 04h00 😅) to September 30, 2024. Less than a year and a half might not be too long a wait for a multichap, but this was a 2k-word one-shot! For me, short stories get written within a week or not at all: those tend to be spun out of a whirlwind of feels rather than forged out of conscious outlining, so the heart of the story will decay after too long. Not in quality necessarily, but in vitality—in what it means to me, you know? So I was astonished and thrilled with my muse for making an exception here (and must once again thank @queen-vessaraia-ashlynne for giving that muse its direction again). ;P

15. Favourite weather for writing?

I had never given this thought before! During the summer, I seize the opportunity to write outside, so I suppose perfect walking weather would be perfect writing weather. If I’m indoors and comfortable though, I don’t really notice! In general, I love cloudless sunny skies and a good snowstorm, so maybe those can also be my favourite weather(s?) for writing in particular. ;D

16. Favourite place to write?

Idk if I have one! I’ve written in the bathtub, on the bus, during class, at the hospital, underneath my desk (floor time for those who like to hide and vanish 👍🏽), literally inside the closet, on hills and beaches……and honestly, I’ve found that as long as I am writing, I’m incomparably happy.

Maybe my old dormitory though? I felt very alive and productive there in general, thanks to my first contact with the beautiful intersection between convenience and independence. I’ll probably never see it again though, lol!

Click on the link to send more fic writer asks! 👻

Thank you so much for the questions. <3

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 50. brb x oc

a/n: it's a few minutes before midnight but I can already say that IT'S MY BDAY!!! and idk how to feel about it cause im 30 and i think im having a midlife crisis already. HAH, anyway, this chapter was sweet and it helped contain the horrible thoughts in my mind uwu.

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: pure rotting fluff of Rooster being a dad.

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44/45/46/47/48/49

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi

-

“Okay so, I left milk in the bottles in case she gets hungry,” Beatrice explains while gathering her things for work, “And you know, you can call me if you need more I’m sure Penny would understand.”

Rooster is leaning against the threshold that separated the kitchen and the living room, hands in his sweatpants pockets and chest bare as he watched her talk about everything with hearts in his eyes, “Oh!” she stops suddenly, “Almost forgot, there are extra diapers in our bathroom’s cabinet, I left it there because I didn’t want to–...but you know that already.”

“I do,gorgeous.” he understood her worrying and while it was adorable to see, he helped her put those things away when they bought it, “Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours, gorgeous.” he steps closer to wrap his arms around her waist, “Me and Nikki will be just fine.”

“I know, you are a good dad.” and his eyes twinkled over those words, and she was sure it made his whole night already, “And she loves you…I just don’t want her to cry when I leave.”

“Maybe she’ll be a bit noisy, but you know, I don’t think it’ll be that bad.”

“...okay…well,I’ll tell the guys why you stayed behind.” she smiles, then looks down at her phone, “Oh,shit,I gotta go,Roos. Walk me to the door?”

The repeated question from this morning made him grin, “Of course,” he leans down to pick Nicole from her bouncer, luckily she wasn’t asleep yet, and they walk to the garage door as Beatrice puts her bag strap on her shoulder, “Call me when you get to the bar.”

“I will.” Beatrice told the dogs goodbye by scratching each of their heads, then leaned closer to Nicole to kiss her cheek - her daughter just touched her face with her tiny hand as if she wanted to stay, “I have to go,sweetie,I’ll be back soon, okay? I love you,you’ll have a good time with daddy.”

Nicole whimpered a bit, but Rooster kissed her head to calm her down, “She’ll be okay,” Beatrice’s worried eyes turned to him and he grinned, “She will be, don’t worry.” he uses his free hand to cup his wife’s chin up so he could kiss her gently, three quick pecks that make Beatrice laugh against his mouth, “Tell everyone hi for me, I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she hesitated a bit before walking down to her red jeep, keeping the two of them in her line of vision until her back touched the car’s driver’s door and she jumped a bit startled, being snapped out of her thoughts as she looked back at the car with a slight frown, “Well,I better go.”

Rooster smiles at her, waving Nikki’s hand much like she did earlier that morning, and that makes Beatrice’s face relax even if her brows are still a bit furrowed. They all watch Beatrice back away from the garage and towards the street, Rooster walks down the steps to keep his eyes on her as she drives off, making sure there was no one outside that could prevent her from leaving the house.

“Well,” he begins once Beatrice is gone, looking down at Nikki, “It’s you and me,birdie, I know there’s not much you can do yet but hey, we can make do.” he turns back around after closing the garage to where the dogs were, Eleanor sniffing the closed door while her brother and mother got back inside with Rooster.

He left the door that led to the garage open so Eleanor could come inside whenever she’d like to, he knew she was the most guard dog of the three of them and she had to sniff around for a few minutes before going back. Meanwhile, he looked down at Nicole, who now was dozing off a little bit, “Listen, birdie, daddy has to have a talk with you.”

It was comical how serious he sounded knowing that his daughter wouldn’t understand it at all, “Mommy has work at night,okay? And daddy goes with her because one, I love her, and two, I want to make sure she’s okay…so here’s the deal,” he walks up the stairs to her room, turning the light on with his elbow, “We leave you at your grandparents and pick you up when mama is done, is that fair?”

Nicole just blinked at him.

“Huh,well I’ll take that as a yes.” he chuckles, placing his daughter inside her crib, seeing her little body stretch over the mattress with her eyes slowly falling shut, “Alright, listen, take your nap, daddy will be downstairs with the monitor close by.” Nicole was already asleep when he finishes speaking, making him grin and lean back from the crib to close the curtains since the sun was still out and he didn’t want her to wake up because of it.

It was exciting to him, it was the first time he’d be alone with Nicole.

“...Holy shit it’s the first time I’m alone with Nicole,” excitement turned into pure raw panic as he started fearing he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He could call his in-laws - who were absolutely understanding about them wishing to keep Nicole home that night, Beatrice’s talk really changed their mindset - or Bea, but he had to be prepared.

So he wandered to the bookshelf they kept in Nicole’s room - the one that looked like a tree trunk with flowers on top - running his fingers over each colorful book until he found the one he was looking for. He did read it during Beatrice’s pregnancy, but it wouldn’t hurt to give it a read again.

‘The First Time Dad Manual: A Step by Step to Fatherhood!’ with a drawing of a father holding a baby, surrounded by stars, looked up at him. Rooster walked back until his knees touched the rocking chair, grunting quietly as he sat down and tried to fit his shoulders in it, “Fuck we might need to buy a new one.” he mutters, “Just so I can fit,I should’ve checked the size when I ordered it.” and after a few more wriggling he finally finds himself in a comfortable position.

He sighs, deciding to reread the whole book again because what if he missed something? So what if he somewhat remembers every line because he read this book every time before bed and even before going to work?

It was always good to check.

“Is this your first child- yes or else I wouldn’t be reading this book,” he mutters after reading the greeting ling, “I’m the author bla bla, I’ll just skip ahead.” and he flips the pages for a while until he find the one he’s looking for.

“Things to do for the first time you are alone with your baby.” the options were pretty much what he and Beatrice talked about earlier, they had planned everything in case Nikki needed an emergency change, she had the bottles saved up and she was also happily asleep in her crib.

Maybe he was overreacting.

He looked over to where Nicole was peacefully asleep, with her tiny fists by her sides, chest rising and falling slowly and he reminded himself that maybe, just maybe, he could relax. He was doing a good job so far, Beatrice thought so, he liked to think so and so did everyone else.

Mav often teased how Nicole had him around her finger just like Beatrice did and he was very right. He’d do anything for either of them, and he had to admit he had his own doubts every now and again.

It wasn’t easy, even if his mother raised him well and the little contact he had with Mav helped him figuring out how a father could be…he missed his dad, he wished he could’ve ask him things, maybe even question him about how do things with Nicole just like he did when he was just a baby.

His mother always said that his father often carried him around the house, always telling him what was happening, what he was doing and…he wished he had more memories to compare. He knew his father would love it, wherever he was he’d love to know he was thinking about him.

“...damn,dad.” he mutters, rubbing his hands up and down his face, “I wish you could’ve met her, you and mom…she’s so precious and so…so sweet. She’s my little birdie,” he smiles softly, huffing out a soft laugh, “...I just want to do a good job, and I’m trying but–”

There’s always that fear, the one he often tried to ignore when he was dating Beatrice and now it came often, too often for his own liking. He looked back at Nicole, at her tiny little hands and her cute face, seeing bits of himself and Beatrice already taking shape on her face and only feared that– what if?

What if it happens again?

What if it does?

He had no control over things like this, but he had to admit that he was more alert than before, ever since the close call back in December from last year he just…put a lot in thought.

He loved what he did but he also loved Nikki and Bea and the thought sometimes haunted him. Well not sometimes, most of the time. He knew he had to be extra careful, check everything, double check it and then go to work as normal as he could. It was hard but it wasn’t impossible.

“I shouldn’t be thinking like this,” he mutters, standing to his feet and placing the book back in the shelf, “Maybe I need to distract myself a bit.” he looks over to where Nikki is sleeping, smiling at her as he leans over the crib’s railing, crossing his arms on top, admiring his daughter’s adorable sleeping face.

“How can someone so small be this adorable?” he questions no one but himself, brushing the side of her cheek with his knuckle and then pushes himself up and out of the room. The dogs were already there, well,Jolene and Jack, Eleanor was boofing and growling downstairs, probably at the neighbor’s cat that often trotted by the house.

He left the door open, even if he had the monitor downstairs he still would like to hear his daughter’s voice in any case, it was better than closing it all the way too. “Anyway, time to distract myself,” and not miss Beatrice. It was the first time in a long while either of them were separated. Hell, he was always at the Hard Deck during her work nights and he…already missed her a lot.

“Silly isn’t it?” he asks the dogs, who look up at him when he walks downstairs, checking the baby monitor he left close to the TV, seeing that Nicole was just the same as before, “It’s not like I won’t see her later,I am just…I just love her a lot.Anyway,” he flops down on the couch withe a pleased groan, whistling to Eleanor to get back inside - smirking because the dog was so used to this she closed the door with her back legs much like a horse kick - and the other two lied below his legs as he propped them on the coffee table.

With the house so weirdly silent, he just turned the tv on in hopes he could ease his mind of the worries that often scurried by, deciding to finish the third season of Golden Girl one more time. He was so thankful for Beatrice showing him different shows, because not only he was tired of everything his friends talked about but he also liked having something light to watch, something that showed four elderly women living their lives in Florida while discovering their love life and dealing with subjects people still have issues talking about today.

And he really liked Sophia.

She wasn’t his favorite just because Beatrice said how much she reminded her of her nonna, but only because he wanted to be exactly like her when he reached that age. As the show was running, his eyes flicked between the TV and the baby monitor not too far from him, seeing that Nicole was still fast asleep without any plans of waking up, sometimes he’d see a huge snout sniffing the crib’s bars and knew that one of the dogs was checking on her for him as well.

So, it was going well so far.

He knew it was going to be okay.

-

He ended up napping on the couch, arms crossed and head leaned back against the backrest as he snored, Jack and Eleanor were sleeping under his legs while Jolene was next to him on the couch, her head on his thigh, the four of them sleeping soundly, so much so he couldn’t hear the TV anymore.

Four episodes went by and he didn’t even notice. Honestly he was so comfortable there it was hard to imagine two hours had passed and his daughter was now awake but not crying, however she was moving a bit in her crib. It’s Eleanor, whose huge head lifts from the floor when she hears the quiet whining coming from the baby monitor, that lets him know by nosing the back of his knee.

Rooster jostles awake, curling his leg up to his chest in surprise, trying to understand where he was, “What?” he blinks hard, rubbing his hands from his scalp to his chin, trying to rub the sleep off when he hears Nicole’s gentle whimpers coming from the monitor, “Oh,shit.” he jolts to his feet, almost tripping over himself.

It wasn’t that intense, honestly she wasn’t even crying yet.

In fact, even Nicole looked surprised when her father showed up, breathing heavily and leaning over the crib’s railing to look down at her, “What’s wrong, birdie?” he asks, “Hungry?” but by the smell it was something else but hunger, “Ah.”

That’s fine, he just had to wake up a bit more.

“Sorry,birdie,let daddy just,” he yawns as he drops his forehead to the inside of his arm, as if it was too heavy for him to keep it up. Nicole just watched, intently, to her father’s antics, even her whimpering diminished as she too tried to understand what he was doing.

He snatches his head up, “Okay!” followed by quick slaps to his cheeks, “I’m awake, now come on,missy, time for your bath.” he gently picks her up, holding her to his chest with one arm as he opens her dresser with the other,grabbing a pink onesie that left her chubby legs bare, closing it with his foot, ‘There, now, we can go.”

Nicole just looked around a little bit more as they entered the master bedroom, another whine leaving her lips. Rooster looks down at her and then back at the room with a frown, “Mama isn’t here, birdie,I know.” that only made his daughter’s little cry get louder, “I know,I know,I miss her too. I miss her too.”

He placed the pink bathtub inside their actual bathtub - something Rooster called ‘bathtubception’ everytime they gave Nicole a bath - and checked the water’s temperature. Luckily, after tossing the diaper away and giving her a bath she seemed calmer…for a little bit. 

As he buttoned her onesie up and adjusted her on his arms again, she whined one more time, the same way as before, “Baby girl, I know,” he felt so bad because she looked so sad, “I know,I know you miss mama, but it’s okay, we are going to have some fun tonight, yeah?”

Nicole just pressed her head to his trapezoid as he carried her out of the room, “Let’s get you something to eat…and honestly, I need to eat too because it’s already dinner time.” yes, his stomach agreed with that as well.

As he placed Nikki in her bouncer to warm up her milk, he heard his phone ping from the living room. He quickly grabbed it and grinned once he saw who it was.

Bea (20:01)

Roos!How’s everything? How’s Nikki? Are you two okay?

Roos (20:03)

We are fine, gorgeous, she just woke up from her nap and I’m heating up her milk and warming up some leftovers for me :) How are you though? How’s the bar?

Beatrice sent him a picture of the bar and in fact it was packed with people, he laughed when he saw the Dagge Squad looking back at Beatrice from their corner, throwing thumbs ups and victory signs at the camera.

Bea (20:05)

It’s nonstop, Roos. Penny said this is the biggest influx of people she had seen in a long time. So we are all taking quick breaks :3. So I decided to message you and see how you guys are.

Roos (20:06)

Well, aren’t you sweet ;) but we are fine. I just woke up from a nap too so I’m a bit…groggy

Bea (20:06)

Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw? Groggy? That doesn’t seem real. 

Roos (20:07)

Keep saying my full name and I’m just I can be quite alert by the time you get home gorgeous ;)

Bea (20:09)

!! stop it. That’s mean, you can’t tease your wife from far away…but really, you don’t have to wait for me if you are tired, you know I get home around midnight.

Rooster frowned once he read it, he knew that and knowing he wasn’t going to bring her home only made this thought pop even harder in his head. He leans his lower back against the counter as he types his response

Roos (20:10)

Gorgeous, I’m going to wait for you outside the house. There’s no way I’m sleeping without seeing you walk through the door. Also, maybe someone can follow you to the car…ask Hangman or Payback to go with you, they can wait.

Bea (20:11)

Roos,Shells will stay behind, you know she’s worse than a Malinois when she needs to be. I’ll be fine. I promise. <3 

Roos (20:12)

I’ll still stay up, gorgeous. And I’m going to wait for you.

Honestly,Beatrice brought the romantic out of him every time they spoke. The power that woman had on him and how willing he was to have that magic wrap around his heart was incredible, but like he always said Beatrice was pretty much like a fairy. He turns the stove off and checks the milk with the tip of his finger - just like his mother in law taught him - and pressed to the back of his hand, “Perfect.”

Bea (20:15)

Roos,I’ll have to go back now.I’ll talk to you later okay? :) 

Roos (20:15)

Okay,Gorgeous.I love you, a lot.

Bea (20:16)

I love you too!! <3 

And she was gone then, so he had something else to worry about. Thankfully, he just reheated some of the lasagna his mother in law was so very kind to cook for them - even if Beatrice always told her mother there was no need - and grabbed the bottle with Nicole’s milk on it. Since he had to feed her first, he just left his plate in the microwave and smiled on his way over to the baby, “Hi, pretty thing!” he coos, “Hi!Come here, time for your dinner.”

Nicole’s eyes crossed when he held the bottle above her lips, her brows furrowing a bit, “It’s milk,birdie, come on.” It takes a few seconds, Nicole looking amazingly suspicious of whatever this thing was and Rooster had to think of something, looking around for an idea…and he sees one of Beatrice’s coats hanging close by, “Aha.” 

It’s a bit weird to see, but he wraps the bottle with Beatrice’s coat in hopes that her mother’s smell could make Nicole finally eat…and it worked! “...maybe someone did this before.” he comments to himself, sitting on the piano bench with his back against the closed keys, legs stretched in front of him, “I don’t know, it’s all about instinct, birdie.” Nicole was too busy eating to pay attention, barely peeking one eye open at him, “You’ll know when you are older.”

He smiled down at her because he still couldn’t believe that this little girl was his. She was showing changes already, she was still a bit baby but the main ones were her hair length and the characteristics that reminded her of her parents.

She had Beatrice’s nose as he knew she did, his chin and he wasn’t sure if her lips were more his or Beatrice’s, but they were rosy pink and absolutely adorable to look at. Especially when she smiled, that she got from her mother too, “Oh you are so hungry, holy shit,” very few times they had to bottle feed Nicole so seeing how fast the milk was leaving the bottle was astonishing, “You’ll have some strong bones growing up. Don’t be like your dad. Don’t break them.” he looked back at the piano with a wistful look, it has been a long while since he played honestly and he felt his fingers tingling, begging to have the ivories under his spell one more time.

But he had other things in his mind right now, that feeling could wait. His eyes then slowly traveled up, up and up until they stopped at the three frames hanging above the piano: the one with his father and himself wearing a cowboy hat, the one in the middle with both of his parents just as his dad got back from deployment - still wearing the suit - and in the left corner it was the signed Jerry Lee Lewis record.

Beatrice suggested they did this, because it’d be a lovely homage to his parents - not to mention the other pictures she decorated the walls with - to have them where he remembered them the most…and how cathartic to him was to have his baby daughter in his arms and see his parents looking down at him? 

He felt his eyes sting, quickly wiping them with his bicep since he couldn’t stop feeding Nikki, sniffling quietly, clearing his throat to regain focus of the task at hand. He had this warm feeling all over him, like a blanket that just cocooned him from the world and all its problems, like his mother used to do.

You did so good,Brad. I’m so proud of you.

Your mother is right,you did really good, son.

He’s brimming with emotion, trying his best not to cry on top of his daughter who by now finished her bottle and was booking up at him. Bradley just sniffled again, finally using his hand to wipe the one tear that slid down the corner of his eye, “Anyway,” he laughs tearfully, “Daddy’s fine, let’s,” another sniffle, “Let’s just get ready to burp you, yeah?”

As Rooster places the jacket away and puts a towel he brought along on his shoulder, tapping Nicole’s back to help her burp, he hears her make little noises close to his ear. He at first thought it was just discomfort, but they didn’t seem like the usual noises she’d make, so he turned to check on her only to see those bright eyes locked on the piano.

He slows the tapping on her back, flicking his gaze from the piano to her several times…until a smile shows up, “...I think it’s good to keep that in the family, huh?”

[sergeantsporks]

Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 28/?: Rotted Memories

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17,  Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27

In which none of the previous golden guards or wittebro died, actually, they're all fine and living happily together as one big dysfunctional family

Ao3

Phoenix lurked outside of Sam’s lab, debating whether or not to go in. Was Sam even inside? Or would it just be Petro? He shuddered at the thought of sitting inside waiting for Sam with no one in there with him but his predecessor. Maybe he could just stay out here and catch Sam as he went in.

“Sooooooooooo,” Petro’s voice drawled, “You’re a smart guy, glasses.”

Phoenix jumped at the sound. We need to invest in soundproof doors.

“Thanks,” Sam answered shortly, “Glad you noticed.”

“You’ve got to know you can’t keep me tied up forever. Sooner or later someone’s going to slip, and I will take advantage of it.”

Sam heaved a sigh so loud that Phoenix could easily hear it through the door. “Make the pitch or don’t waste my time, Petro.”

“Alright, straight to the point; you’ve got a handle on magic, and you’re clearly logistically minded. You don’t have to hang around here. Those two idiots always dancing around in here causing havoc, having to use your skills for everyone else… you’re wasted here.”

“Are you going to tell me what you want, or not?”

“Let me out, and we can both leave. Whatever protection they’re providing here, I can match it. You and I can survive on our own out there, probably better than we can here. We could make our own base, and work on restoring the Isles to what it was.”

“To what it was?” Sam answered sharply, “Would that be with all the citizens dying from their coven sigils? Or perhaps the glorious empire you set up on the bones of Uncle Pip’s enemies?”

“Or something better,” Petro replied smoothly, “We could perfect the Empire. You could make it into something more to your liking. Get rid of the… issues. Between my combat prowess, and your brains—”

Sam chuckled. “Oh, okay. Okay. I think I’m picking up on your vision. Let me know if this sounds right; I let you out under the promise of an empire with my name in shining lights, and you immediately knock me out and run off to try killing Phoenix again. Is that right? Have I got it?”

“No. I’ve been doing some thinking, and you people were right. He’s not worth my time.”

“That is not what we said.”

“Still—”

“No.”

“What?”

“No. I’m not letting you out. I’m not running off. I stay here because I like it. I don’t need an empire, and I don’t want it.”

“But—”

“I’m intelligent, not arrogant. I don’t harbor any notion that I could control you if I did let you out, nor am I delusional enough to think you’ve changed your mind about killing Phoenix over the course of a day. Oh, and if you’re going to come up with a nickname, at least try to come up with something more creative than glasses. ‘Those two idiots’ Lake and Locke could sneeze out a more creative alias. Keep quiet and let me work. Or tell me where Belos makes his grimwalkers. Whichever you feel inclined towards.”

“If you let me out, I’ll tell—”

“Nope.”

Phoenix let out a long sigh. At least there was one person Petro couldn’t get to. Or at least, he hadn’t found an opening yet.

Phoenix raised his hand, knocking on the door.

It swung open almost immediately. “What?” Sam snapped. “Oh. Hey, Phoenix.”

In the lab behind Sam, Petro craned his head upwards to see. “Hiiiiiiiiiiii,” he called, “How’s that post-fight treating you, little bird? Having trouble moving yet?”

Phoenix’s muscles were, in fact, sore, and his scalp was still tender where his hair had been yanked, but he wasn’t going to let Petro know that if he could help it.

Sam shifted in the doorway so that Petro’s line of sight to Phoenix was blocked. “What’s up? Oh, in case you thought it was worth a shot, don’t try talking to Petro, he’s being obstinate.”

“Awwwwwwwwwww, thanks!”

“Quiet time,” Sam ordered, “or I’m not taking you on a walk!” He shook his head. “Anyway, whatcha need?”

“You take him on walks?”

“Yeah, we’re not monsters. And he’s got to go bathroom sometime. Don’t worry about it, what’re you after?”

“You said I could read Uncle Belos’ journal?”

“Oh. Sure. Yeah.” Sam stepped out of the doorway. “Go ahead. Just ignore Petro.”

That won’t work. He’d never let me just rip out pages in front of him.

Phoenix shifted back and forth on his feet. “It can take me a while to read,” he said sheepishly, “Is there any chance I could take it with me and bring it back when I’m done?”

Petro snorted.

“Qui-et,” Sam sing-songed. He retrieved the journal, turning it over in his hands. “…I don’t know. It’s really old, and a bit delicate. I’d like to keep an eye on it.”

“I’ll be careful,” Phoenix lied.

Maybe he won’t notice the missing pages?

Maybe I can say they shook loose of the binding?

“Hm.”

“Read it here,” Petro called, “Let’s have a story time. Read it out loud, I want to hear what he said about you and your failures.”

Sam shot Petro an irritated glance and shoved the book at Phoenix. “Take it. Just… don’t read anyone’s entry but your own? I mean, you can read mine, I don’t care, but some of us don’t really like talking about the past and… just don’t be nosy.”

“Did you read everyone’s entries?”

“Of course,” Sam replied matter-of-factly, “I had to, so I could check for any clues on how to reverse the draining spell, or how to unpetrify someone.” He coughed, shooting Petro a pointed look. “Which turned out to be a waste of time. Anyway. Respect their privacy okay?”

“Okay.” Phoenix tucked the book under one arm. “Oh, Sam?”

“Yep.”

“Do you know if anyone… has a problem with heights? Maybe Belos got rid of them by, I don’t know, tossing them off of a building or a bridge or something?”

Very smooth.

Sam squinted at him. “Why do you ask?”

Phoenix looked somewhere near Sam’s left ear to avoid actually looking him in the eyes. “I just figured… if we ever launch a rescue mission to the head, well, the archive house is floating, and if I’m picking someone to go…”

“You’d want someone with a good head for heights,” Sam finished. He still eyed Phoenix suspiciously, but nodded. “You might want to avoid Alex. Not sure if you could get them on a rescue mission anyway, but they’re not fond of heights. Or falling in general.”

“Thanks, Sam.” Phoenix turned to go, only to be stopped by a cleared throat.

“Phoenix? How’re your arms? Any problems?”

Phoenix froze.

He knows.

That was ridiculous. Sam couldn’t know, unless he’d been lurking around, and he wasn’t stealthy enough to get past Phoenix and Cherry’s radars. Unless…

Phoenix reached up to check his wounds, but they were normal. No dripping, nothing that Sam could pick up on. “No. Nope. No problems. They’re fine.”

“Mmm. Okay. I’d say have fun with the book, but it isn’t exactly a pleasant read.”

Sam closed the lab door, and Phoenix let out a sigh of relief. Step one complete. Now he just needed to get the diary to Cherry, track down Alex, get them to share the most traumatic experience of their life, go on a rescue mission, then get rid of this titan-forsaken curse before he got stuck in Belos’ memories forever. Sure. Fine. No problem.

Cherry was back in his room when Phoenix opened the door. The other grimwalker pored over a couple of sheets of paper and barely looked up when Phoenix approached. Phoenix glanced at the paperwork, but was met by a mess of lines and names on one paper and a chart on the other, both of them with text too small for him to read.

He held the diary out. “I got it.”

Cherry’s spine stiffened, and he jumped up. “You-! Wait, how?”

“I asked for it. Nicely. Don’t worry, this way, if pages go missing, no one will suspect you.” Phoenix chewed his bottom lip then burst out, “Sam’s already read your entry.”

Cherry’s hand faltered just shy of taking the book. “What?” he whispered.

“Sam’s already read it,” Phoenix repeated, “But Cherry, he hasn’t treated you differently—whatever it is you’ve done, whatever you think they’ll hate you for, Sam’s already proved that it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to destroy the evidence.”

Cherry stared at him, but didn’t respond, his hand still hovering near the book without taking it.

“I’m not saying you have to shout your past from the rooftops,” Phoenix said gently, “I’m just saying that you don’t need to worry over what people think. Everyone here has done something they’re ashamed of. They’ll understand.”

Phoenix set the diary in front of Cherry, and quietly exited the room, leaving the other grimwalker still frozen. He set off in search of Alex, reviewing what he knew of the grimwalker. It wasn’t much. He’d seen them at mealtimes, of course, but rarely at any other time. Jason had said once that they suffered from nightmares. What if they weren’t willing to talk about their death?

And where could he find them, anyway?

Phoenix studied the chart he’d snuck away out from under Cherry’s stack of paper when he’d set down the diary. Cherry’s handwriting was small, but at least it was neat.

Alex… Alex… wait, there’s an A… no, that’s not right.

Are they even on this?

“Hi, Phoenix!”

Clara sped down the hallway towards him, Ram in tow. She waved her arm, free of her cast.

“It’s all better now. Your signature helped with the magic!”

Phoenix smiled at that, crouching down next to her. “Yeah? What are you going to do with that brand new arm of yours?”

“Well. This is my good hand for drawing circles. My other hand? It’s okay at spells, but they can be a little wobbly. My good spell hand was stuck in the cast, but now that it is out, maybe I can help with the shields or the illusions.” She hummed. “Or I can help Frank make toast.”

“That’s a good idea. He’s not allowed to use the toaster on his own.” An idea struck Phoenix, and he held the chart up. “Hey, do you think you could help me with something? Can you find Alex’s name on here and tell me what they’re supposed to be doing?”

“Sure.” Clara disentangled her other hand from Ram’s, scanning the paper. “Okay, there it is! They aaaaaaaaareeeeeeee… helping feed the griffins. Oh, that sounds fun. Right, Ram?”

Ram eyed her skeptically, tugging her down to their level and whispering something to her.

“No, they don’t eat little witches. I think. Probably?”

Clara looked to Phoenix, who shook his head.

“Yeah, they don’t eat witches. C’mon, Phoenix, we’ll take you.”

Clara took his hand, and some reflex seemed to jerk Phoenix’s muscles without him thinking about it, yanking his hand out of hers. A tide of fear and something approaching the guilty anxiety that had come with failing a mission swept over him, tightening his chest.

“Who-oa,” Clara yipped, “Is your hand hurt?”

“Um.” Phoenix shook his head to clear the emotions away, tamping them down just as he always had in the coven. “I’m sorry. I just got startled.”

Still, he didn’t hold her hand, just followed her out of the house and to the griffin coop. Even though he knew where it was, he let the two kids take the lead, sweeping his eyes across the yard for potential threats as he followed up behind them.

His vigilance was ridiculous. He knew that. The house was protected from the Collector by its shield and invisibility spells. Still, traces of fear and anxiety stuck in the corners of his mind, and his eyes still darted everywhere, looking for hidden threats in the (now empty of Mole) garden, or around the corners of the house.

Not that he saw any.

Clara opened the griffin coop door, and immediately, four young griffins made a break for it, dashing around her legs and squealing.

“Get back here, you hooligans!”

Joseph ran down the ramp, jogging in place next to Phoenix. “Hi! Griffin chicks now rowdy griffin gradeschoolers! Careful with the door next time, I’m going to go round them up, bye!”

He dashed off after the chicks, calling their names. Lucy (or at least, Phoenix was pretty sure it was Lucy) waddled out the door, clucking and herding chicks closer together and towards Joseph. Phoenix shook his head, crouching down next to Clara and Ram.

“I need to talk to Alex alone. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Clara said brightly, and then promptly joined in the griffin-chasing fun, waving her arms and shouting and generally driving griffin cubs further away from Joseph and Lucy. Ram chased after her, eying Lucy warily. Phoenix watched them for a moment, unsure if they were trying to help him by keeping Joseph out of the coop for later, or if they were just very, very bad a griffin herding.

Alex peered out the door, their long hair swinging down around them and exposing one long scar going up their neck. “Um… Joseph? Okay. He’s gone. Alright. Cool. Right.”

“Hi,” Phoenix started.

“Hi.” Alex watched him for a second. “Oh. Welcome back. Glad you’re not dead.” They rubbed their arms. “Dad sort of thought you might be. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Oh.”

What if I got it wrong?

What if it wasn’t Alex who had been in his dream? Or what if he wasn’t really seeing Belos’ memories, and he was just delusional after spending so long with the Collector and their reality warping powers?

Alex cleared their throat. “Um. Sorry. Did you need something? If not, I’m just gonna…” they gestured to the ramp and strode past Phoenix. Phoenix started to call after them, but couldn’t quite make his voice work to do it.

You’re wrong

You’re wrong again, you always are

Let someone else figure this out, you’ll only mess it up.

A small griffin streaked up the ramp, tangling up Alex’s legs. The grimwalker yelped, arms flailing.

Phoenix jumped forward, catching Alex’s collar before they could tumble over the edge of the ramp. His fingers curled in the fabric just like they had in the dream, and Alex looked up at him with the same wide, terrified eyes, the little scars from nicks and scratches that marked their face gleaming silver instead of the gold of a mask.

And then Phoenix pulled them upright and let go, and the moment was over.

“Hah—” Alex put one hand over their heart, sinking down to their knees. “Uh—sorry—thanks—I’m just going to… sit here for a bit.”

The fall from the ramp wasn’t a large one. At worst, Alex would have bruised their backside. But they looked like they’d narrowly avoided a fall from the tip of the titan’s horn. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. That is… yes. Thank you. I, uh.” Alex chuckled breathlessly, and a bit hysterically. “I don’t know why, I felt like… never mind.” They stood up brushing themselves off. “Bit of panic. I’m fine.”

“Reminded you of something?” Phoenix suggested.

“Maybe.” Alex fiddled with the end of their hair, twisting the ends around their fingers. “Thanks. Again. Sorry, I didn’t really wait to hear the answer, did you need something?”

“I was actually going to ask about…” Phoenix waved a hand at the ramp and the ground and Alex. “…that. Sorry, I don’t know how to ease into asking this, did you happen to get hurt falling off of a bridge?”

Alex’s shoulders hunched, and they combed their fingers through their hair frantically. “I didn’t fall,” they said sharply, “I was thrown. And I don’t want to talk about it. Did Cherry send you out to talk to me? Dad? Mom? It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s been years, it’s fine. I’m fine. Tell them I’m fine.”

“No, that’s not why I asked, I—”

Phoenix fumbled for his words. Did everyone know about the other grimwalker? Or was it supposed to be secret for now? Caleb hadn’t told him, and if it was supposed to be a secret…

His hesitation was apparently all Alex needed.

“Thanks for catching me. Bye.”

Alex bolted for the house, leaving Phoenix behind on the ramp.

That went well.

At least this confirmed that Alex was the grimwalker he needed. Not that it would help if he couldn’t get them to talk to him. Phoenix sighed. That weary, heavy feeling was starting to settle in his bones again, making him want to curl up right here. Let the infection take over and just… sleep.

Joseph paused next to him on the ramp, his arms wrapped around two wriggling griffin chicks. “What’s eating them? Everything alright?”

“No.”

“Do you need Luc—”

“I do not need Lucy to sit on me.”

Joseph eyed him skeptically. “Okay. If you say so.”

Clara and Ram carried the last writhing griffin chick between them, the creature growling and clucking playfully. “What do we do with it?”

“Take her inside,” Joseph told them. “Hey, kids, have you ever checked a griffin for parasites? Do you want to learn how?”

Phoenix shook his head, going back to the house after Alex. They weren’t in the kitchen—where Frank now threw water over the toaster while a wall of flame flickered dangerously close to the ceiling—and they weren’t in the hallways, either. Phoenix lingered near the front door, quickly dismissing the possibility that they’d left the house entirely. Had they gone to their room? Which one was even theirs?

He started down the hallway, but only made it a couple of doors down before stopping again, attention caught by an open door and Caleb behind it. The ortet shook a crystal ball furiously.

“Work, you wretched thing! It’s just a little cross-dimensional viewing, you can manage it!”

Phoenix knocked on the door. “Everything alright?”

Caleb jumped, dropping the crystal ball, which made a dull thunk as it hit the ground. “Fine!” He squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay. No. Wait. Not fine. I’m…” he sighed, picking up the crystal ball. “I’m trying to check in on the kids. Just to make sure they’re safe. But this stupid crystal ball is giving me nothing but static.” He spun the ball in his hands. “Before I thought it couldn’t find you because you…” He shook himself. “But now that I know you’re alive, and the kids are in the human realm, it should work, right? I know the location, the crystal ball should be attuned to Hunter anyway, so… so…”

Caleb sighed again, putting the crystal ball up on a shelf. “Who am I kidding? If communicating across dimensions was that easy, we wouldn’t have half our problems.”

“They’re safe,” Phoenix assured them, “They made it through.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Caleb shook his head. “I know it was the best option at the time, but the human realm is… it’s not a kind place. Not to people who are different, especially not Gravesfield. It can take even the kindest kid, and it’ll chew them up and spit them back out a monster. If it doesn’t just kill them immediately. I’m worried about them. Especially Jason.”

Phoenix felt sick. He’d assumed the human realm would be safer, and the human Luz had seemed nice enough, but he’d forgotten there must have been a reason Caleb and Luz had come here in the first place.

Maybe he had made the wrong decision sending Jason and Hunter and the rest of the kids through.

Maybe they should have stayed.

Maybe he’d gotten them out of immediate danger, but had sent them somewhere far worse.

“Maybe it’s changed,” he suggested, trying to convince himself as much as Caleb, “Maybe it’s different now.”

Caleb stared bleakly at the crystal ball on its shelf. “Phillip hasn’t changed in all this time. Why would the human realm?”

Phoenix didn’t know what to say to that, uncomfortably reminded of the plain brown journal sitting on Cherry’s bed, heavy with the words it carried. Cherry thought, hoped, really, that people could change. Phoenix would just have to hold onto the hope that the same was true of the human realm.

For the kids’ sake.

Caleb shook his head. “Nothing we can do about it now. They’re smart, hopefully they’ll lie low. Keep out of trouble.” He eyed Phoenix, looking him up and down. “How are you? How are your arms?”

The hairs on the back of Phoenix’s neck tingled. “They’re fine. Why would you ask that? They’re fine.”

One of Caleb’s eyebrows climbed upwards. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“And everything else? You got roughed up pretty badly. By the Collector and Petro. Are you doing okay?”

So he had just been generally concerned. Of course, he was probably suspicious about Phoenix’s arms now. Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck, acutely aware of the tiny stings and aches coming from all over his body. “…I’ve been worse.”

“Take it easy,” Caleb said gently, “There’s no shortage of help here; you don’t have to solve everything all on your own. I know you’re worried about the other Grimwalker, but you can’t help anyone if you’re falling apart yourself.”

Phoenix nodded along to the familiar advice. “So… any ideas?”

“The keep would be a likely bet,” Caleb offered, “Maybe the head, where he kept the door—and where the journals were. Unfortunately…”

“Those are both areas controlled by the Collector,” Phoenix finished, “What if they are there? What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. We can’t just leave them. But going directly into Collector’s territory…” Caleb shook himself. “We’ll figure it out. We don’t know for sure that they’re at either of those places, and even if that’s the case, Evelyn is excellent at breaking into places she shouldn’t be. We’ll think of something. For now, you should see Auric again. The last thing you need is a regular infection on top of a magical one.”

Phoenix nodded.

“And Phoenix? If you need to talk about what happened with the Collector, or what happened with Phillip, or anything else…”

And what was he supposed to tell Caleb?

That he’d lied and connived his way out of the archive house? That he’d left Eda and Lilith and Darius behind, and hadn’t even managed to get King out safely like he’d promised? That he’d planned to go back? That he actually felt bad for the Collector, the one they were all hiding from, who’d torn up their home and turned the population into toys? That he was still lying, this time to them, about his arms, about the memories and dreams, and he’d dragged Cherry into it? That all of this hiding and lying was building up in his chest and if he tried to think about it, he was worried he would fall apart, and somehow, the infection in his arms would spread and he’d turn completely into a shambling monster like Belos, but maybe that was happening anyway with all the lies he’d told?

Caleb looked at him expectantly, but Phoenix just nodded. “I’ll let you know,” he managed. He ducked out of the room, away from Caleb’s watchful eye. Enough stalling. He’d ask Cherry to help him find Alex, and he’d somehow manage to talk Alex into giving him information, and then he could finally, finally tell them about the infection, and he wouldn’t have to lie anymore.

The room was devoid of Cherry when he reached it, and the journal was nowhere to be seen either. Blankets had been dragged from the bed, leaving it a mess of exposed pillows and sheets. Phoenix stood in the center of the room, scanning for a clue as to where Cherry had gone, his heart throbbing in his throat.

Shouldn’t have helped him steal that book

Just making all sorts of good choices today, huh, Phoenix?!

He heard a muffled thump from the closet, and he opened the door. Cherry blinked in the sudden light, burying his face in the blanket he’d wrapped around his shoulders.

“Leave me alone,” he groaned.

His eyepatch lay on the floor next to Belos’ journal.

Phoenix squeezed into the closet, closing the door and sitting next to Cherry. He didn’t say anything. Just sat, waiting.

“Sam knows,” Cherry whispered, lifting his head, “You’re seeing Belos’ memories, so it’s only a matter of time before you find out. Hunter was in Belos’ mindscape, there’s no telling what he’s seen.” He clutched at his head, and for the first time, Phoenix saw under the eyepatch.

He’d expected that Cherry’s eye would be torn up and scarred, and he’d known it was blind. But he’d always sort of assumed it was there. Instead, a dark cavity loomed at him like an endless cave in Cherry’s face.

“It doesn’t matter if I destroy the pages,” Chery continued, his chest heaving, “It doesn’t even matter if all of you promise to keep it secret. There could be other records out there, copies of the journal, accounts from someone who lived through it, some survivor who’s passed down a story through their family—I can’t control it all, and I’ll never know what’s out there, what… what…” His fingers tightened in his hair, tearing at it. “They’ll hate me.”

“Cherry, they—”

“I know we’ve all done something wrong for Belos, I know that we all have regrets, but I was worse, Phoenix. I was like Petro; he’s right about that. I destroyed homes, entire towns! I ruined lives, I ended lives, and I didn’t even question it, because it was what he told me to do. And I—I can’t ever make up for it, because now I’m here. I’m here, and I can’t ever—I can’t—and there isn’t any making up for it, there wouldn’t have been even if I’d never left my time.” Cherry buried his head in his blanket again. “They’re all looking up to me,” he groaned, “They’re all trusting me. And I don’t want to see them hate me, I don’t want… And Jason, titan, Jason, he can’t find out.”

“Jason thinks the world of you,” Phoenix said quietly.

“That’s the problem. I don’t want to let him down, I want to be the person he thinks I am, but I already failed him. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Cherry. You’re not that person anymore. You’ve changed.”

“Have I?”

“Yes!”

“Really? A long time ago, you asked if I’d just replaced Uncle with someone else.”

Phoenix stumbled for words. He barely remembered that. It had been months ago! Forget Cherry, he’d changed since then! “That was—Cherry, that was wrong, I was new at this, and I didn’t—”

“No. You were right. I’m still…” Cherry waved a hand around. “Following orders. Doing what someone else tells me to.” He laughed hollowly, pulling his blanket tighter around himself. “If Dad and Mom asked me to kill someone, I probably still would, no questions asked.”

“I don’t think that’s tr—”

“Really? They told me to protect you, and I nearly destroyed Petro’s inner self when he threatened you. I haven’t changed. I’m just following someone more benevolent than Uncle.”

“No.” Phoenix stood up, nearly hitting his head on a shelf. “No. You’re wrong. You’re using what I said as an example? Well, that same day, you let me out, despite Caleb’s orders to keep everyone inside and safe. Right now, you’re not telling Evelyn and Caleb about the infection getting worse, even though you know they’d want you to, because you know it’s how we’re going to find the last Grimwalker. Maybe you are following orders from someone better. But you’re also disobeying them when you think it’s the right thing to do.”

Cherry rested his chin on his knees. “Hm.”

“You help Evelyn and Caleb because you believe what they want is good, really good, not just because they told you to do it and you’re scared of what they’ll do if you don’t. I know we thought we were doing the right thing with Belos, too, but they let you listen to your own conscious in a way he didn’t. And when you think they’re not right, you do something else. You have changed—you wouldn’t have even considered disobeying Belos before, but you’ve made your own decisions here. What does Petro know? He’s been here and awake for what, a day? Two? And all he wants is for one of us to slip up so he can wriggle out and try to kill me. He doesn’t know you.”

Cherry sighed, tugging on his hair. “No one really does. They don’t know the full story. Even with what I just told you, you still don’t have all the details.”

“They know who you are now. And that’s what’s important to them. Do you know every full backstory of every person in the house?”

Cherry opened his mouth, then closed it, and shook his head.

“And do you care about them anyway?”

A nod.

“And if you found out that they’d done something horrible and had been beating themselves up over it for years, what would you tell them?”

“That they can’t change the past,” Cherry grumbled, “And it’s what they do to fix it or to be better now that matters.”

“So why would it be any different for you?”

“I get it, Phoenix. I know. I know it doesn’t make any sense. Just…” Cherry sighed, picking his eyepatch back up. “I know I’m being hard on myself, but that doesn’t help me stop, and that doesn’t mean I think I should stop. And even if I feel that way about others, that doesn’t mean they’ll feel the same way about me. I just… don’t want them to look at me differently. I don’t want them to look at me the way they look at Petro.”

“I know logic doesn’t help,” Phoenix said quietly, slowly turning the door handle, “But they don’t look at Petro like that because of what he did. They look at him that way because he keeps choosing to be that person.”

He slipped out of the closet, shutting the door behind him.

Alex lurked outside of Cherry’s room, watching him. “What were you doing in there?”

“Talking.”

“Reporting to Cherry?”

Phoenix pushed past them, closing the door to the room to give Cherry more privacy, and to give he and Alex privacy from Cherry. “I don’t report to Cherry. He’s not my boss. What are you so worried about him finding out, anyway?”

Alex eyed him, but didn’t respond.

“Come to think of it, why’d you come back? You seemed dead set on getting as far away from me as possible.”

“Wanted to know what you were saying about me. You really aren’t reporting to Cherry? Or Mom or Dad?”

“No. Why? Don’t you trust them?”

Alex fiddled with the ends of their hair, combing it out. “Oh. I do in general. I… they always want to help. And it can get a bit much because sometimes I just want to give it time. See if it goes away on its own. Which it usually does. For a while.”

“What does?”

“You know. The usual. Nightmares and such.”

“And panic attacks when you fall?” Phoenix suggested.

Alex gave him a reappraising look, and started to edge away. “Hm.”

“I’m not interested in trying to help you,” Phoenix blurted out. “Wait—that came out wrong. I mean, if you want to handle it on your own, if you think it just needs time, that’s fine. I don’t want to push you, I won’t try to talk you through it.”

“Then what do you want?”

“It’s just—” Phoenix took a deep breath, organizing his thoughts in a line. Half-truths instead of full lies this time. “I’m trying to find something, and I think… I think you might have accidentally seen where it is. All I need to know is where… it… happened.

“Oh.” Alex tugged on the end of their hair again. “Hm. You might be out of luck finding… whatever it is. At least for now. Belos tried to kill me at the head—you probably saw the bridge while you were there.”

Phoenix’s heart dropped. Of course. Right in the middle of the Collector’s territory. They’d be lucky to get in alive, let alone get out with a new grimwalker in tow. But… maybe if they did go…

The gears in Phoenix’s head started to gently click. If they went up there anyway, for the Grimwalker, he could convince them to go for Darius as well. And Eda, and Lilith. They might even be able to rescue King—if the Collector left his side at all.

A small voice whispered that the Collector would be all alone if they did, with only Terra and Odalia, but he pushed that part down. For now, they needed to focus on the last grimwalker. Then they could go after everyone else. And then… maybe the Collector?

As if isolating him is going to make him hate you less.

“…Phoenix?” Alex ventured, “Are you still with us?”

Phoenix shook himself. “Um. Yes. Thank you. Thank you, yes.”

“Sure. But, uh… after I ran, why didn’t you just ask Dad where I died? He rescued me from there.”

Phoenix hadn’t gone to Caleb because that would have meant telling him HOW he knew that Alex had information, which would mean immediate surgery on his arms. But obviously he couldn’t tell Alex that.

“Didn’t think of it,” he lied. “Thanks, Alex.”

Phoenix started towards where he’d last seen Caleb, but stopped halfway down the hall, weighing his options. Caleb was concerned about the grimwalker, but he was also cautious. And he’d admitted himself that he’d probably ask Evelyn for advice on sneaking into the head anyway. If the way she’d shaken Petro for information was any indication…

Phoenix switched tracks, heading outside instead. Loud ‘ew’s burst from the griffin coop, but he ignored them in favor of the redheaded witch examining the magic on the fence. “Evelyn?”

“Hey. Oh, you—” Evelyn kicked a flickering fencepost. “Work!”

Surprisingly, it flickered two more times, then resumed a steady blue glow. Evelyn drew a circle, and the entire fence shuddered, hummed, and finally faded back to its steady pulse of magic. Evelyn dusted her hands off, and turned to face him.

“Maintenance. Never as sophisticated as people think. What’s up?”

“I know where the last grimwalker is.”

Evelyn’s constant energy stilled, and her golden eyes fixed on him like a fairy that had just spotted a bat. “How?”

“No time to explain, I’ll do it when we get back. Belos kept his grimwalkers growing at the head, at the very bottom of the skull. The whole thing’s probably been shaken up and damaged by the Collector’s remodeling, so we need to get them now.”

Evelyn gave him a short nod, and ran back towards the house. “Come on,” she called over her shoulder, “If we want to get out of this alive, we’ll need a couple of things—and a couple of people.”

Phoenix was about to follow when a chill swept over him, despite the sunlight, and his right hand started to twitch of its own accord. He reached slowly up to check his arms, even though he already knew the infection was oozing out again. Rolling up his sleeves revealed veins of blackish green extending all the way to his wrists, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Phoenix rolled his sleeves back down, and tucked his hands into his pockets to hide their shaking, following Evelyn inside.

Just a little bit longer.

It’s almost done.

Keep it together for just a little bit longer.

[zuuriell]

i felt like doing something so imma do this for the month! i’ll put all my answers below the cut because it’ll probably get quite long lol

1. Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (aka POTS)

2. well, it’s pretty complicated 😭 i’ve had some symptoms for probably like a year, but around late april/early may this year i couldn’t even shower or stand up too long from how bad it got. the uk healthcare system is absolute shit though, so even tho i’ve been a&e multiple times and tried to explain how much it’s all been affecting me, i still don’t get to see a cardiologist until february 2024 :( but we’ve ruled out other options of what it could be, and my mum’s cardiologist friend agreed when i said i thought i had POTS, and my GP agrees, and my potsie friends agree so i’m kinda like unofficially diagnosed as of now?

3. relating to the last point, i am not officially diagnosed yet because of the slow asf NHS so yeah :,) but i mean to figure out what i was experiencing was POTS, it did take me like 8 months? but probably around 10 for me to accept the fact that i most likely have it too 😭 an official diagnosis unless i can rack up the money to go private is probably gonna take me like another year at this rate, but hopefully it won’t be that long

4. i have to pick just one? LOL uhh probably the blood pooling! it’s so annoying because especially when im out and about, i can’t be with my legs in the air 24/7 so it’s always bound to happen. compression socks help but only to an extent, and it stops me from doing so muchhhh :( it means that queueing for things and standing for more than a couple minutes is so so much harder, and if i have too much blood pooling in one day then my can legs ache for DAYS after that. it’s so painful and annoying and just aaghhh i hate it

5. on a regular day: i wake up, chug water which i leave by my bed for the mornings, get out of bed slowly and walk downstairs to make breakfast. i chug electrolytes and go for a short dog walk, then come home to do schoolwork and my family make lunch/dinner so i don’t have to stand around too long. i’ll make sure i get any chores done that i can, and i’ll try to chill in the evening

on a bad day/flareup: i wake up a lot later, have my electrolytes with water and only get out of bed when i need to. i’ll do schoolwork from my bed (if i feel well enough to concentrate), and have salty snacks rather than proper meals, unless my family make me anything. i stretch from bed to combat deconditioning, and if i feel decent enough i can have a bath

6. i don’t have access to any specific medication unfortunately, so i currently just manage with painkillers when my chronic pain is extra bitchy + anti-nausea meds when i feel sicky

7. salt sachets (the little ones you get at like mcdonald’s and stuff) to shove in my purse/pocket in case symptoms flare while i’m out, compression garments, electrolyte tablets, and a recliner bed so i can raise my legs more when resting

8. electrolyte drinks!! not the tablets though (i hate the taste of all the tablets except like 1 lol) - my fav is making electrolyte drinks from scratch! at the moment i really love iced lemon water with honey and salt. i also saw smth about this fancy coconut water drink to make so i may try that and it may become my favourite :0

9. salty crackers, salt and vinegar/ready salted crisps, mcdonalds fries (stfu i know these aren’t healthy but they’re my favs 😭), pretzels, nuts

+ my fav foods to dump a bunch of salt on: pasta, veggies and dips (SALTED CUCUMBER IS SO GOOD), pizza, chips, soup, risotto, probs almost anything i eat tbh

10. i’ve only got one pair but i love them so shoutout to my knee-length black compression socks <3

11. i don’t have any 🥲 i really wish i could have a cane or maybe even a rollator but my family make fun of me and i can’t afford one lolsies

12. i try to do some stretching in bed so that i can safely work against deconditioning, keeping very hydrated, trying to stay upstairs as much as possible so i don’t have to suffer my staircase, asking family to make food for me so i can save energy, taking pain meds when needed, having a cold bath (if possible), trying to keep preoccupied with work if i can, but if not i’ll watch movies on my ipad and stuff

fun fact: i wrote this on a flare LOL so oddly fitting and now i’ve already made myself a plan for the next few days!

13. the thing that’s helped me most is accepting that something is wrong and remembering to listen to my body. going through life pretending that i’m perfectly abled and don’t have anything wrong causes much more harm to me than letting myself rest a few days. it definitely isn’t easy though - i still find myself getting stressed over work deadlines don’t get me wrong, but i’d like to think i’m getting better at adapting to things and noticing when a flare is coming on so i can be prepared to take the time for my body to rest.

14. chairs are your best friends now. i steal the chairs/stools from the kitchen table whenever i’m doing chores standing up for more than 30 seconds. compression socks also help! OOH and if you’re using hot water/heated stuff and struggle with temperature dysreg, i usually grab myself a cup of ice to munch on or an icepack to hold on my chest so that i don’t overheat :)

15. i’m afraid i don’t have much input for this as i left school for health reasons 😭 but i suppose keeping hydrated, getting accommodations such as not too many stairs + being allowed to take more days off to rest for flares, compression gear where possible, staying high on sodium + electrolytes, and extended deadlines would be good!

16. i’m gonna sound so silly for this but i love rewatching my comfort stuff. i’ve got my fav youtubers + fav films/series all compiled in a list, and i spin a wheel to decide which one i’m gonna watch! other activities i enjoy though are reading, playing video games, doing goofy quizzes online, chatting with friends, and going on pinterest sprees!

17. leading on from the last prompt, my fav is a marvel movie - tbh all of them bring me so much comfort but my favs are avengers, black widow, loki and any of the thor films <3

18. my main support system is my wonderful boyfriend, kurtis @agere-tomhiddleston-imagines 💚💛 he’s helped me through so much and he’s so supportive of me no matter what, and i love him dearly for that (and how awesome he is in general ofc) <3 other than that, my parents are semi-supportive! they still get things wrong sometimes but overall they’ll help if i need things and they handle all the shitty healthcare workers for me so i truly appreciate them for that 😭🙏 ooh and definitely just the general online community of chronically ill people/potsies!! i love y’all so much 🫶

19. okay i don’t know if this counts because she was an orthodontist rather than a doctor/nurse, but when discussing me getting braces she asked about my medical history and i explained it all but said i haven’t been diagnosed so i understand if she can’t accommodate me. then she said to me, “hun.. just because you don’t have a piece of paper with a few words on it, doesn’t mean you aren’t ill. if you’ve got symptoms but no confirmed cause, you’ve still got the symptoms, and i’m not gonna ignore those unless you want me to” - the validation was so relieving after years of fighting for doctors to listen to me and believe me :,) ❤️

(i’ll update this throughout the month! <3)