#chrissy (you turn oranges to orange juice)

[hvbris]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐂𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐀𝐌 . 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐔

Chrissy grew up in District 1, in the Victors Village. With two Victors as parents, Chrissy was always pressured into becoming a career and excelling at her training. Terrified of disappointing her family, she worked hard all her life, knowing her parents expected nothing but perfection from her. One of the best careers at the Training center, she was athletic, quick and skilled with many weapons. But along the way, she had caught on some unhealthy ways to cope with the pressure. 

She volunteered every year. But in District 1, places for the arena were rare and coveted. Year after year, she saw her shot at becoming a Victor slipping between her fingers. But at 17, at last! She was reaped after volunteering, alongside a much younger boy, Henry Creel. A 12 years old career, known for being already unhinged and dangerous.

It was smooth sailing until the arena. Chrissy was charming, beautiful, poised, and scored an impressive 10 at her evaluation. 

In the arena, she joined the careers, obviously. With the sponsors and the help of the other careers, she could see victory, it was so close she could taste it. Like in most Games, the careers ended up turning on each other (predictable) and Chrissy and Henry were the last ones standing. It was a gruesome fight, ruthless, and Henry’s age didn’t make him any less of a terrible opponent. In the end, they both fell. The gamemakers were terribly embarrassed, the games need a Victor!

Peacekeepers were sent to check the tributes’ pulse, and Chrissy being (barely) alive, she was crowned Victor despite being unconscious. She woke up a week later. 

[medusapelagia]

Serenade

written for @corrodedcoffinfest (Prompt 17: This one's for you) and @astrangersummer (Week 12: Forgotten) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: none Words: 1000

(So... this entry for the Corroded Coffin Fest and the Steddie week got A LOT of attention and people asked me for a sequel So this can be read as a stand-alone or a sequel of Love at first sight.)

Steve can’t suffocate a whimper when the curtains of his room open unexpectedly and Robin turns toward him with a grin.

“Raise and shine, baby! We have another incredible shift at Target!”

“Fuck you, Robin. I’m sick, I can’t go to work.”

Robin lifts an eyebrow, and points at the glass of water and the Advil pills on Steve’s night table, “Not sick, babe, just in hangover, and given the fact you decided it was a good idea got wasted without me I think that spending your hangover with me dealing with customers is the right punishment.”

Muttering that he feels he’s been punished more than enough, Steve gulps down water and pills, grabs the wrinkled clothes he finds on his chair, and follows Robin into the kitchen, where a warm toast and a cup of coffee are already waiting for him.

“Still hate you, but you’re the best.”

“I know you do, dingus. Now, want to talk about last night?”

Steve tilts his head frowning in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Robin grabs her phone, opens WhatsApp, and plays an audio message in which a really drunk Steve stutters something about having found the man of his dreams.

“I’m going to marry him, Rob! Will you be my bestwoman?” Steve’s drunken voice says.

“So… who’s this mystery man?”

“Who? I have no idea who you are talking about.” Steve shrugs in confusion, “I was obviously drunk. I don’t remember a thing.”

Robin scrutinizes him for a long time before nodding to herself, “Ok, fine. But this is another reason why you’re not allowed to go out drinking without me!” She declares, pouring two glasses of orange juice for both of them.

“What about your date? Is Chrissy everything you were looking for?”

“She is not.” Steve sighs, ready to comfort her when Robin adds, “She’s way better! She is fun! And beautiful! And when she laughs she snorts so adorably… and we’re fucking late! Let’s go!” Robin says, grabbing Steve’s arm and pushing him out of the door while she keeps telling him about the amazing date she had the night before. 

When they get outside the crispy air makes Robin shiver, so she reaches into Steve’s jacket’s pocket to warm herself, but she retreats her hand with a gagging sound, “Didn’t your mom teach you to throw away used tissues?” she asks, making a disgusted face.

Steve frowns and puts his hand in his pocket, retrieving a crumpled napkin with some pen’s shaky signs. He opens the napkin to get a better look and finds a telephone number and a name: Eddie.

“Holy fucking shit! You did meet someone!” Robin grins, “Are you sure you don’t remember him?”

Shaking his head, red with embarrassment, Steve confirms he doesn’t remember anything.

“Ok. Only one thing to do.” Robin grabs Steve’s phone, “Call him.”

“What?! No! What if he’s a psycho? Or if I made a fool out of myself? It’s better to forget about it.”

“Ok.” Robin shrugs, turning her back to Steve who glares at her with suspicion, it's not like her to surrender so easily.

“What…? Robin! No!" He says trying to grab the phone, but she’s already dialing the number, “Robin what the fuck!”

“Hello?” A warm voice replies after a couple of rings.

“Oh… Hey… Eddie? I… I’m Steve.”

“Oh, Stevie.” Someone in the back makes a satiric comment while the man on the phone opens a door and moves somewhere quieter, “Are you feeling better? Did you drink a lot of water like I suggested?”

“I… yeah… I did… but…”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

That word triggers something in Steve's mind, a blurred memory of a group of men wearing leather jackets and talking loudly.

“I… Look… I know this sounds bad but I don’t remember what happened last night and I wanted to apologize if I made a fool out of myself.”

“Oh. Ok. Not what I was expecting, but it’s fine.” The voice sounds disappointed and it makes Steve’s heart ache.

“I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine. Listen I have to go, the guys and I have a little concert and we’re in the middle of the soundcheck.”

“Oh. Yeah. You signed a big contract, right?”

“So you do remember something.” The man points out, amused, “You know what? Why don’t you come to see us? Tonight, at the HideOut, I promise not to let you drink until we talk.”

“At the HideOut? Tonight?” Robin grabs Steve's arm and points at herself, “Can I bring a friend with me?”

“Sure. See you there.”

When Eddie closes the call and goes back to the stage, Jeff is grinning, “So, is he still in love with you?”

“Don’t think so. He doesn’t remember me.”

“Oh, this sucks.” Gareth says, stopping the cymbals, “So what are you going to do?”

“The only thing anyone in his right mind would do: serenade him in front of a crowd!” Eddie chuckles while he grabs his guitar and adds a new song to their track listing and Freak winks at him.

“Bold choice.”

“I’m not going to chicken out. He said he loved me, right?”

When the doors open it isn't hard for Eddie to spot Steve, who is wearing a bright yellow sweater and stands out like a sore thumb in an ocean of dark jeans and black t-shirts.

They play the single they have just recorded and the crowd explodes, but Eddie’s eyes are pinned on Steve when he announces “Stevie, this one's for you.”

Eddie moves around the stage, getting back to back with Freak while playing, but he gets closer to the audience, searching for Steve's eyes when he sings, “And, want to treasure the rest of your days here, and, give you pleasure in so many ways dear.”

Once the concert ends, Eddie asks to bring Steve backstage and when he sees him, he winks, "I think we're doing things the other way around, but... would you like to go on a date with me?"

[hellcheeriest]

i bet he's never had a backstreet guy

Twitch Streamer!Eddie x Single dad!Steve

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary: Introductory Chapter where we meet Steve and his son Dustin, and Eddie and his group of friends.

Content Warnings: Slight age gap (Steve is 31, Eddie is 26), bullying.

A/N: I wrote this almost two years ago and the full first chapter ended up being almost ten thousand words... and then i never finished writing the second chapter. Here's a heavily re written first chapter! I'm splitting this up much more, and this chapter is shorter than the rest will be as its mostly an intro chapter to introduce characters and their dynamics :)

w/c: 2,017

January, 2023

STEVE HARRINGTON

“Fuck, dude!” A voice blared from Dustin’s phone. The kitchen was warmly lit as Steve flipped a pancake. It was a Monday morning, and the sun’s light peaked through the crack between the curtains. The smell of bacon cooling on the counter wafted through the air, and Steve turned to give his son a disapproving glare.

“Hey, what’s with the language?” Steve asked, turning over hashbrowns in a separate, smaller pan.

“Sorry, dad. Just a streamer I’m watching.” Dustin replied as he took a sip of his orange juice. “He and his friends are like, super funny.” Steve stalked over, a full plate of breakfast in his hands. He placed it on the counter in front of Dustin, leaning over Dustin’s shoulder to view the gameplay shown on the screen. They were playing a game he vaguely recognized as something Dustin had shown him while saving up his allowance money.

A different voice sounded from the phone. A lighter one, belonging to someone who the first person referred to as ‘Chrissy.’

“Who are they?” Steve asked as he returned to the stove. Dustin took a bite of his pancakes.

“The guy is Eddie. He’s the one playing the game.” Dustin began, pausing only when his dad scolded him for talking with his mouth full. “The girl is Chrissy.���

Steve smiled as his son ranted. Dustin was typically very passionate about his interests, and Steve loved seeing his son so happy. It was too often that Dustin came home from school deflated and downright miserable. He was nerdy, and the type of kid that was bullied even back when Steve was in school. Apparently times haven't changed.

“You really like these guys, huh?” Steve asked, thoughtful, as he turned off the burners and brought the now empty pans to the sink.

“Yeah!” Dustin began, practically bouncing in his seat. “Their friend group is all super cool, and Eddie-” He took a moment when the man- Eddie, cracked a joke that made Chrissy laugh. “Eddie used to be bullied, too. And he’s super cool, so…” Steve sent his son a small, sad smile. He walked over to Dustin, and pulled him into a hug. “He just makes me feel better.”

“Well,” Steve ran a hand through Dustin’s curly hair. “I’m glad he makes you feel better. As long as you don’t get a swearing problem, got it?” He asked, smirking.

Dustin broke into a smile, nodding.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dustin gulped down the rest of his orange juice. “I'm finished eating, can we get going? I don't want to be late for school!”

_____________________

EDDIE MUNSON

Eddie @/hellfyre

streaming among us with friends :)

@/bluefille

@/rockinrobin

@/jefftheekiller

@gareththatsme

@/grrant

twitch.tv/hellfyre

_____________________

Chris @/bluefille

Can’t wait! :)

Rob @/rockinrobin

im here against my will.

_____________________

Eddie’s room was dark, the light of his monitors casting a shadow behind him. He sighed and slid down in his chair. He was deafend in the discord call with most of his friends and he loaded up the game, his cursor hovering over the ‘Go Live’ button. He ran a hand through his slightly unkempt hair, thankful for the fact he hasn’t shown his face yet. He wasn't even sure he owned a camera minus the one built into his monitors. Taking a deep breath, Eddie presses the button and lets his ‘Stream starting soon’ screen play out.

Quickly the viewer count rose from a few hundred to a couple thousand, and after five minutes Eddie unmuted his microphone.

“Hey chat!” He grinned at the spamming of emotes in the chat. “Today, as you know, we’re doing among us with corroded coffin and friends. Robin and Chrissy, my personal favourites, but don’t tell the guys that.” He laughed. “Jeff and Gareth just got back from vacation so hopefully they suck, and Austin has yet to join us.”

Eddie pulled up a picture of his guitar and shrank it down to cover where the room code would go.

“Among us in 2023?” He read from the chat. “You know it.”

Eddie undeafened in discord, the loud voices of his friends instantly shot through his headphones.

“Gareth, you prick!” Robin shouted down her microphone. “Take that back you heathen.”

“God, Robin. Mind telling me what the hell is going on?” Eddie asked.

“Gareth’s flaunting his relationship with Jeff! Practically rubbing it in my face! He’s basically making fun of how I don’t have a girlfriend.” Robin whined and Gareth laughed.

“Can we please just start the game? I don’t want to deal with this debate anymore!” Jeff pleaded.

“You’re just asking that because you get all flustered whenever Gareth gushes about you.” Chrissy added, her voice soft as ever.

“Yeah, Jeff, we get it. You’re in a happy relationship and you hold hands and blah blah blah.” Eddie joked, putting on a New Yorker accent.

“Hey, leave my mans alone.” Gareth said and Jeff groaned, causing everyone else to laugh. “I’m making the room.”

“Sorry guys, my mom just called. I gotta go.” Robin said, her raspy voice wavering as she tried not to laugh, giving her away.

“Fuck you Robin.” Gareth retorted and Robin cackled. “I’m posting the code in the discord, assholes.

“I’m too sober for this.” Austin said, finally deciding to speak up after joining to the pandemonium.

_____________________

It had been an hour and a half straight of playing among us, and Eddie was starting to get a headache. His throat was sore from the accent he chose to do in the last round they played.

“Well, guys. I still have to eat dinner so I should get going.” Eddie confessed, rubbing his eyes.

“Okay, Eddie! Enjoy your dinner.” Chrissy yawned. It was eight PM for the both of them, and Chrissy’s childhood habit of going to bed on time carried over to adulthood and it was her wind down time by now

“Night man.” Gareth said, and wishes of a good rest from Jeff, Robin and Austin followed. Eddie returned the gesture and hung up. He bid farewell to his viewers before shutting down his stream and turning off his computer. He stretched, before standing up and leaving his small bedroom and heading to the small kitchenette of his apartment. He grabbed one of the TV dinners that sat in his freezer and threw it in the microwave for a few minutes.

He walked to his bathroom and grabbed an elastic off of the counter, wrapping it around his hair before leaning over the sink and splashing water over his warm face. After rubbing a towel down his face, he leaned on the counter and stared into the mirror, taking in his appearance.

He wouldn't say he was insecure of his looks, but it was a daunting thing to think about when his side of the internet were constantly talking about how devastatingly hot he must be.

What if they didn't like how he looked?

That was a thought that rarely crossed his mind. He prided himself on the fact that he didn't care what others thought, and really, after years of bullying he'd grown a tough shell. So no, he wouldn't care about what others thought. He only thought like this when he was drunk or tired, and he wasn't drunk. The dark purple of his under eyes confirmed it was the latter.

They stood out against the pale skin of his face, similar to how the black of his self-cropped Metallica shirt he'd gotten at a concert and dark tattoos that ran all down his torso clashed with his almost fragile looking flesh.

Thank you iron deficiency. And college.

He'd just skimmed by and managed to graduate on his third attempt at senior year, so he wasn't sure why he decided to torture himself further by becoming an English major, especially since his streaming career seemed to be kicking off and who knew if he would even end up needing it?

After the beep of the microwave went off, he went back to the microwave and grabbed the plastic dish and went to the reclining arm chair in his small, plain living room. It was always a shock stepping into the modern bright white walls of his apartment after living his whole life in the cluttered comfortability of his uncle's trailer. They didn’t have much then, but he was happy. 

Eddie put on an anniversary re-run of some old, popular sit com. The laugh track filled his otherwise quiet apartment and Eddie started chewing on the tough, TV dinner steak.

He’s still happy now, he supposes. A bit bored, maybe. He didn’t see his uncle much anymore, and he lived alone. The only friend he lived close to was Chrissy, and even she lived an hour out of the city Eddie was in. He loved streaming, loved providing content for the people who’d watch it, and he knew it was selfish to wish for more when so many would kill to have what he has.

But sometimes he can’t help it.

_____________________

STEVE HARRINGTON

Steve was worried. He was parked outside of Dustin’s high school. Band ended fifteen minutes ago and there was still no sign of his curly headed son. It wasn’t often Dustin stayed behind this long, not unless he was getting pestered by some moron. After another moment Steve huffed and got out of his car, walking into the school.

It was somewhat nostalgic to walk the halls of the highschool, the same one Steve went to way back when. The walls were a different colour now, and banners hung from wall to wall to announce different events. Steve wasn't here to reminisce, though.

He was a few feet away from Dustin’s locker when he saw two larger teenagers cornering his son into the metal of the lockers, spitting harmful words to Dustin’s already terrified face. The guys seemed to be older, maybe even in their senior year, and Dustin was small, only in the ninth grade.

“Hey!” Steve called out, his pace increasing in speed as the guys turned to look at him. “Hey, what’s going on here?”

“Dude, is that who I think it is?” One of the guys asked. Oh great. Steve thought. Jocks.

Steve wasn’t proud of who he was in highschool. He was a loud, ignorant asshole just like the two here that were harassing his son. The thought made his heart hurt. 

“Steve Harrington? What are you doing here?” The other asked, laughing as he held Dustin by the collar of his shirt.

“Well, I’m here to pick up my son, but it seems he’s been held back.” Steve said through gritted teeth, hoping that his visceral hatred spilled through into his tone, and the two older boys' faces paled before they scrambled to get away from the two. Steve scoffed, and was quick to kneel down in front of his son whose face was red and wet with tears. His shirt was soaked, and his nose was bloodied, and Steve’s chest felt heavy with anger. 

Calming himself down, Steve held Dustin’s shoulders.

“Hey, bud.” He started softly. “Let’s getcha home, hey?” A small sob broke through Dustin’s lips as he nodded and Steve brought his son in for a hug.

Soon they were outside and walking to the car, Dustin under Steve’s arm.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Steve asked after getting in the car and Dustin shook his head, facing out the window. Steve sighed quietly and looked at his hands where they gripped the steering wheel. “I saw a notification on your phone this afternoon,” This seemed to catch Dustin’s attention. “I think that streamer you like posted something. Maybe you’ll have something to watch when you get home?”

Finally, Dustin smiled. It was small, but Steve was grateful. Dustin nodded.

“I still want to hear about what happened today, kay?” He asked gently, and Dustin nodded again, but slower this time. Steve put a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

After a moment he started the car and drove out of the school parking lot.

[soupsbowl]

come and get your love || steve harrington x reader || part 3: monday at moretti's

part 3/?

word count: 2.8k

tw: swearing, mentions of death

--

You tended to rank things in your mind to pass time: your current favorite musical artists, best ice cream shops in or adjacent to Hawkins, the teachers at Hawkins High, favorite books, et cetera. 

Currently, you were ranking the various stains on your work uniform according to how difficult it would be for you to get them out in the wash. 

Number three, pizza sauce: washes out surprisingly easy if you soak it in cold water first. Number two, grape juice: not a common stain for your work attire, but you had an unfortunate incident with a toddler and his unclosed sippy cup as you were placing his parent’s pizza at their table. And finally, number one, pepperoni grease: oilier than one might think, and the orange-colored liquid is a bitch to get out of your pale pink work shirt. 

“L/N would you mind picking up the pace a bit? We just got an order for five large pies, and you haven’t even finished saucing the previous orders yet. Gesù Cristo!” Mr. Moretti, the owner of Moretti’s Pizzas and your perpetually grumpy boss, snapped at you as he headed out back for what you assumed was his fourth smoke break that shift. 

There wasn’t much to do on a Monday night in Hawkins, as most places closed before the sun even got close to the horizon. Moretti’s was one of the few places open past nightfall, and thus you often received an influx of orders from tired parents looking for something easy to feed their kids after soccer practice or potheads with a bad case of the munchies around 7 o’clock each weeknight. 

You spooned sauce onto the circle of dough in front of you, thinking about the events of gym class earlier that day. Hearing the sadness in Steve’s voice as he spoke to Nancy caused a pang in your gut and a twist of your heart - guilt and something else…empathy maybe? You weren’t sure, and didn’t have time to rank the plethora of feelings you had at the moment because the bell that hung over the door rang, indicating the arrival of a customer. 

You exited the kitchen to greet them and see a group of kids, about thirteen or so, chattering about something as they approached the counter. You recognized two of them as Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair. They were friends of Johnathan’s little brother, Will, and Nancy’s little brother, Mike. There was a redheaded girl with them. You didn’t recognize her. She glanced around the pizza shop suspiciously, like she was worried someone might see her there.

You smiled at her, but she averted your gaze. Your smile faltered slightly, but you grabbed a pen and an order sheet and then looked to Dustin and Lucas.

“How are you guys doing tonight? What can I get for you?”

“A large pepperoni please,” said Dustin, grinning at you. “And don’t be afraid to load it up with extra cheese and sauce.”

Mr. Moretti turned the corner in that moment, returning from his umpteenth smoke break. “Extra cheese and sauce cost extra, kid. Don’t forget to charge him for that, L/N.”

“Sure, Mr. Moretti,” you sighed. After he had disappeared back in the kitchen, you smiled down at Dustin. “I think he can spare a few pepperonis and an extra scoop of cheese.”

Dusin and Lucas grinned at each other, and you thought even the redheaded girl cracked a little bit of a smile.

“Is that for here or to go?”

“For here, please. Thanks,” Lucas said, throwing a crumpled ten-dollar bill on the counter and telling you to keep the change before following Dustin and the redhead over to a booth in the corner.

You went back into the kitchen to prep their pizza. You felt a lot of empathy for those kids. You couldn’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for them last year. Will’s disappearance, his supposed death, and his return from the dead must’ve been traumatizing for them to go through. You didn’t have many close friends, just a few acquaintances from school, and Chrissy, of course, and the thought of losing them, even hypothetically, put a twang in your chest.

You then thought of your parents. You lost them both tragically about five years ago. Your mother, Rose,  had worked an unassuming job at Melvad’s General Store. She grew up in Hawkins and knew just about everyone in town. She always greeted everyone with a smile, and no one had even the slightest negative thoughts about her. Losing her devastated not only you, but the entire town. Your father, Alexander, was a medical researcher, and had moved to Hawkins to work at the lab. You never quite knew what it was he did there, and you could pinpoint your detective tendencies arising around the time you began old enough to ask questions about his work…

--

EIGHT YEARS AGO

Your mother placed a steaming platter of mashed potatoes on the dinner table, and sat down next to your father. He was wearing his glasses, and frowning at a series of notes and diagrams that he had been leafing through for the past several minutes. You were eight, and playing with a friendship bracelet that Chrissy had made you. It was originally a bright F/C, but had since faded from sunshine and wear, and was now a paler version of its once bright hue. You heard your father sigh. You looked up from your bracelet and watched as he stacked the papers neatly, before placing them into his briefcase on the floor, and locking it.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” you asked. You could see by the expression on his face that he was frustrated.

“Nothing, sweetheart, it’s just been very stressful at work lately.”

Your mother scooped a heaping serving of mashed potatoes onto your plate, along with a piece of chicken and some spinach, before placing it down in front of you. You pushed the spinach to the side of your plate with your fork before shoveling mashed potatoes into your mouth

“What is your work?” you asked, mouth still full of potatoes.

Your parents both stopped, mid chew, and exchanged glances with one another. Your father picked up his glass of water, and took a swig before facing you.

“You don’t want to know about that, Y/N. It’s boring stuff, you’d fall asleep into your mashed potatoes if I told you.”

You giggled a little bit, but your mother seemed uneasy.

“Were you reading something for work at the table, Alexander?” she asked him, her eyes drifting to his locked briefcase that laid beneath his chair.

“I was. You know how busy I am, Rose. As much as we both don’t like it, sometimes I have to bring work home.”

There was a pause.

“I really don’t feel comfortable with you bringing research home,” your mother said, dabbing her napkin at the corner of her mouth.

“What research?” you asked, looking between your parents curiously. “What is it you’re bringing home?”

They ignored you.

“We’ve talked about this, Alex. The stuff that you’re working on is too dangerous take out of that lab, in any capacity.”

“The research is dangerous? Why is it dangerous?” your eyes widened.

Your father didn’t say anything and kept staring down at his plate. Your mother continued.

“See? And now Y/N is asking questions. I knew this project was going to infiltrate our family, I told you that from the beginning and that’s why I didn’t want you involved. And now that you want out of it it’s going to endanger our-”

Your father slammed his fist on the table before your mother could finish her sentence. He looked up at you. “Y/N, go to your room,” he said sternly.

“Why? I didn’t do anything!” you protested. “Why can’t I stay?”

“Y/N,” your mother’s voice was shaking. Whether it was from anger or fear, you couldn’t tell. “Just listen to your father. Go to your room.”

You got up from your seat and stomped up the stairs, slamming the door to your room for good measure. You closed the door to your room and threw yourself onto the bed, your heart pounding from the argument you had just witnessed. Your father's rare outburst had scared you, but even more unsettling were the hints about his mysterious and dangerous work. You could still hear their voices, muffled but intense, drifting up from the dining room. Curiosity flowed through you, and you crept slowly and silently to the door, opening it just enough to add clarity to your parents’ hushed voices. You knelt by the door, hardly breathing as you listened to their conversation.

"Alex, you promised me this project wouldn't come home with you. If the lab finds out you have data here, they could... who knows what they could do,” your mother’s voice was fierce.

"I know," your father replied. "But I'm close to a breakthrough. If I could just understand the energy signatures, it would change everything. We could enhance human capabilities beyond our wildest dreams."

"And what about the risks? The dangers? You know what happened to the last test subjects."

Your father sighed deeply. "I know. That's exactly why I'm working so hard. I want to make it safe. I don’t agree with their methods, but the energy and power we’re working with…it's... it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s unpredictable. And I can't make sense of it all and figure out a way for the project to be executed safely without bringing some of the data home."

You could hear tears in your mother’s voice. “I can't lose you, Alex. And I can't let this destroy our family."

"I know," he said, his voice trembling along with hers. " I'm scared, too. I want out. I want to expose the dangers of what they’re doing, but I'm in too deep. If they find out... I don't know what they'll do. The most I can do now is try to keep what we’re doing as safe as possible."

“I just don’t want you endangering us to keep others safe.” Your mother replied.

There was a pause. A long one.

"I'll be careful," your father finally added. You could tell he was trying to reassure her, but he didn’t seem so sure himself. "I promise.”

You quietly closed the door and laid back on your bed. Lying on your bed, you stared at the glowing plastic stars on your ceiling, trying to process what you'd overheard. Energy signatures. Dangerous research. Human capabilities. It was all so bewildering. You didn’t entirely understand, but you knew that whatever it was your father was involved in, it was like something out of sci-fi movie, something beyond your wildest dreams. Something that could potentially endanger your entire family.

You reached for the faded friendship bracelet on your wrist, twirling it thoughtfully. Chrissy told you it was good luck. You desperately hoped she was right.

--

“L/N! Why are you standing around! Get those orders out to the customers, rapido!”

You hadn’t realized how deep into your memories you had gone. You were clutching your wrist, as if you had been searching for the friendship bracelet from Chrissy.

That memory was the last time you could recall discussing your father’s work. The next three years, you remember having to bite your tongue to avoid bringing up what you had heard. The lab, the energy signatures, human enhancement. Your father never brought home the briefcase again, at least not that you witnessed. His home office was always locked.

On December 9th, 1979,  your parents’ car had supposedly spun out when your father was driving your mother to work. The car was found, mangled around a tree and on fire.

The weeks following their death had been a blur. People you knew and people you didn’t all offering their condolences and bringing various baked goods. The funeral was at the church your parents got married at. White roses adorned their caskets, which remained closed. The Byers helped your grandmother move into your house. Your father’s home office stayed locked all the while. You only ate mashed potatoes.

You said something to your grandmother once, a few months after your parents’ death. You voiced a thought that had been circulating your mind since that fateful day when your father had brought home his briefcase.

“Did someone from the lab kill my Mom and Dad?”

Your grandmother sent you to a shrink after that. Her office smelled like cat pee and moth balls and she spoke to you in a tone so condescending that it made you want to throw something. You never said anything regarding your parents’ death to your grandmother again, and you never returned to the shrink. There was always a place in the back of your mind where you wondered if your parents death hadn’t entirely been an accident.

“TODAY L/N!” Mr. Moretti bellowed so loudly you jumped. He shoved a pizza pan in front of you and thrust his thumb towards the door. “Bring this out to those kids, now.”

You grabbed a towel to grab the hot pizza pan, and used your hip to open the door to the front. Dustin, Lucas, and the redhead were scrambling to get ready, collecting books and shoving them into their backpack. The redhead picked up a skateboard and was about to head for the door when she caught your eye.

“Oh, guys, pizza’s here.”

“Shit! Do you think we could get this in a box? To-go?” Dustin asked you. He seemed a little frantic.

“Yeah, of course just give me a second,” you answered, placing the pizza on the table.

“Dustin, Max, we don’t have time! We need to go, right now!” Lucas said, emphasizing the last two words. They were out the door in a flash, the bell on the door jingling as they went.

“But it’s already paid for!’ you called after them from the doorway.

You watched them leave, Dustin and Lucas hopping on their bikes and pedaling furiously. The redheaded girl, who you concluded must’ve been Max, skated behind them.

 You went back inside, trying to brush the incident from your mind and chalk it up to just kids being kids. As you returned to the now-vacant booth, you noticed a tattered notebook laying on the seat. It was adorned with a sticker that read "Hawkins Middle AV Club" prominently displayed on its cover. You picked it up, along with the pizza, and carried them both back to the kitchen where Mr. Moretti was grumbling about the state of his inventory. He glanced up as you entered, eyebrows raised in a questioning manner.

"They left in a hurry," you explained, setting the items down on the counter. "Should I box up their pizza?"

Mr. Moretti scoffed “Those little shits better have paid.”

“They did, don’t worry.”

"Alright, then. Box it up. I’ll bring it home for my kids for dinner." Mr. Moretti then left the kitchen, not giving the notebook that laid on the counter a second glance.

You sighed, and boxed up the pizza to set aside. You glanced at the notebook again. No one else was in the kitchen, yet snatched it quickly and stowed it safely in your bag.

As you returned to your routine tasks in the kitchen, your mind began to drift. Detective tendencies at it again. What were those kids up to? Was something happening with Will again? Maybe it was related to Barabara Holland? At the root of these questions was the memory of your parents and your father’s work at Hawkins Lab, echoing like a haunting refrain.

The rest of the night was rather uneventful. You ignored the expletives Mr. Moretti shouted at you for being distracted and finished mopping the kitchen as quickly as you could. You walked to your car, slammed the door, and immediately dug the notebook out of your bag. The “Hawkins Middle AV Club”  sticker stared at you from the cover. You opened it and began reading.

Will

October 28, 1984: Will had a vision at the arcade today. I’m worried about him. It definitely has to do with the Upside Down.

D'Artagnan – “Dart”

October 31, 1984: Found what looks to be a baby pollywog in my trashcan. Kinda cute. Currently researching what he might be, terrestrial pollywogs only exist in South America and India. Could be a new species, Dustinis pollywogus.

You flipped through the pages, but there weren’t many in there. It seemed as though the majority of the pages had been ripped out. Other than the first page, the rest were blank. You closed the notebook and started your car. You drove home in silence, no radio, only your racing mind to keep you company. You knew that whatever those kids were involved in, it was intertwined with the mysteries of Hawkins—a place where secrets seemed to lurk around every corner, secrets your parents were involved in, secrets you were itching to figure out.

[harringroveera]

“Are you listening to me, Heather?”

“Yes, I am,” Heather said, rolling her eyes as she pressed the handset to her ear. “I’m listening to how much you blabber about your pretty boy, Billy. He’s so gorgeous. He’s so adorable! Have you seen him in his sailor costume!”

Billy snickered, his voice echoing through the phone. “Do I talk about him that much?”

“Only during work, after work, and before work.” She shrugged, brushing the nail file against the freshly painted nails. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I did this to myself, honestly,” she said, sighing softly. “I got you two together, now I’m suffering the consequences.” 

“Heather!” her mom’s voice echoed from inside the kitchen, and Heather looked up.

“What, Mom?” 

“Heather!” 

“I gotta go,” Heather said. “My mom is playing the game where she’ll keep calling my name until I come in to see her.”

“Want to go to the mall with me and Chris later?” Billy asked. “You don’t have a shift today, right?” 

“No.” She pursed her lips, pushing up to her feet. “Okay, yeah, sure. Maybe we can catch a movie.” 

“Cool. I’m picking you up in an hour.” 

She let out an approving hum, hanging up the phone and dropping the nail file to the couch before she strutted into the kitchen, where her mom was busy pouring orange juice into a thermos while she hummed to a song.

“Heather—”

“I’m here! God, Mom,” she said, stopping short before the kitchen counter with a forced smile on her lips. “What do you need?” 

“Okay, I need you to bring this lunch box to your dad,” her mom said. “It’s late now, but if you drive there, it’ll be faster. Your dad doesn’t like it when I don’t bring it on time.” 

“Why can’t he bring his own lunch in the morning when he goes to work like any capable person would?” 

“Don’t speak that way, darling.” 

Heather rolled her eyes, gazing at the brown lunch box on the counter. “I thought you always brought it to him, Mom.” 

“Oh, yes, but I have a spa appointment with Dorothy, Terese, and Karen. I won’t be back until later.”

“Why do you need to go to a spa?” 

“I’m going to the pool tomorrow!” 

Of course. Heather’s lips curled downward, but she didn’t say anything. Billy had a shift tomorrow, and that explained it.

“Don’t hang around with Karen Wheeler and her friends too much, Mom,” she said, turning around to grab a brown bag from the cabinet.

Her mom seemed surprised, though, as her eyes slightly widened when Heather came to put the lunch box and the thermos in the bag.

“Why would you say such a thing, darling?” 

She shrugged. “It’s just a general observation thing,” she said, taking the bag into her hand. “I’m going. And I won’t be back for lunch.” 

“Why—”

“I’m going out with Chrissy.” 

She left the kitchen without saying another word, going through the back door to the garage. It wasn’t that far from their house to the Hawkins Post, and afterwards she could head to Billy’s house, picking him up instead. Just one conversation with her mom had ruined the mood. She needed to get her mind off it for a while.

The mixtape Billy had put in the other day was still in the stereo, and Heather let it blast loudly on the way there, finding herself tapping on the steering wheel before she came to a stop before the building. 

Heather walked through the door, putting on a smile at the lady at the front desk. “Hi, Doris.” 

“Oh, Miss Holloway! Hello!” the lady said. “Are you looking for your dad?” 

“There’s quite literally no one else I’d be looking for here, Doris,” she said, holding up the brown bag in her hand. “I brought my dad his lunch, because he’s a grown man who still makes his wife bring his own food to his mouth.” 

Doris swallowed, the smile on her face twitching for a second. “He’s in the meeting room, sweetheart. But he’s already asked his assistant to get him lunch.” 

“Of course he has.” She sighed. “He has an assistant?”

“Oh, I mean the intern girl here, darling.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but she gave Doris another smile and walked to the meeting room, her good mood souring even more the second she saw the group of men in the meeting room. 

She pushed the door in, and her dad’s head jerked up in surprise. “Heather! What are you doing here?” 

“Brought you lunch, Dad,” she said, stepping into the room and scrunching up her nose at the smell of cigarettes. “Mom has something else to do.” 

“Such a sweet daughter you are, Heather,” the man sitting next to her dad said. 

“Thanks, honey, but I’ve already asked someone to get the food for all of us.” 

“Well, I already drove here to give you your lunch, so you’re eating it, Dad,” she said, dropping the bag to the table and standing next to him. “Mom cooked all of that, and you’re going to absolutely neglect the effort she did for you?” 

Her dad pressed his lips together, and Heather smiled, patting his shoulder. “I think she made your favorite, Dad.” 

“That may be better than hamburgers.”

“Of course it is,” she said.

“You’re growing to be a beautiful woman, Heather,” Phil said, taking a drag of his cigarette, his eyes roaming over her body blatantly even with her dad’s presence here.

“Thanks. How’s that receding hairline of yours? Is it still growing, or are you going to be bald soon?”

Phil’s smile dropped, and her dad clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Heather, don’t disrespect them.”

“Tell your employees to stop staring at my ass then. I’m not even eighteen yet, I can get them arrested, you know,” she said, and all their eyes darted away from her body, which was a relief.

“Oh, here’s Nancy Drew with the food,” another man said, a hand resting on his stomach. His name was Robert, maybe. She could never be bothered to remember the names of these men. 

Her eyes flitted up to the person walking in through the door, and she wouldn’t say she wasn’t surprised to see Nancy Wheeler entering the room. She didn’t know Wheeler was working here, but again, they weren’t friends. 

Heather didn’t have the fondest of feelings towards any member of the Wheeler family, but that might have been spurred up just because of Karen Wheeler. And, well, that was enough of a reason already. 

Nancy seemed surprised to see her too, halting in her steps for a mere second before she resumed handing out the packed hamburgers from the brown bag she held against her chest.

“Where were we?” her dad said, tapping the pen in his hand against the table. “Yeah, we still need something good. We’ve been slacking these days.”

“How about a piece on Iran?” a man on the other end of the table said.

“I want something local.”

“I hear there's a beauty pageant at the fair this year,” Bruce said. 

He was the worst one here, and everyone knew it. Even Nancy, as she shot the man a look before she walked past Heather with hurried steps.

“Excuse me,” she whispered softly, and Heather stepped aside, letting her go around the table and giving the men their food like she was feeding a bunch of pigs in the hogpen. 

“Yeah, I'm looking for above the fold here, Bruce.”

“Then clearly you haven’t seen Lucy Lebrock, because I’m not sure she’ll fit above the fold!” The man held his hands over his chest, barking out a loud and unrefined laugh as Heather’s lips twitched.

How annoying it would be if she had agreed to work for her dad in the summer. She would have quit on the first day.

“Fellas! In six hours, we go to print. I need something real,” her dad said, rubbing a hand over his temple.

“Oh, I think they’re real.”

The men laughed, because, of course, that was the kind of thing they would laugh at. Heather sighed, clutching her car keys in her hand and patting her dad’s shoulder. She had to leave before she decided to say more things that would ‘embarrass’ her dad in front of his colleagues.

“What about Starcourt?” Wheeler began, stopping abruptly in front of the door, blocking Heather’s path.

Everyone in the room turned to look at her, including Heather, and Wheeler's throat bobbed, her eyes darting around as the anxious look painted her face.

“I—I was just…thinking,” she continued, shaking her head. “I mean, I know everyone loves the mall, but how many small businesses have closed since it opened?”

Her voice turned firmer as she went on. Heather could see that Wheeler wanted to be a journalist from the passion that filled her every word. And at least she could come up with a better article to talk about than any of these men here.

“Like, five on Main, at least. It's changing the fabric of our town in a way—” 

“The Death of Small-Town America,” Bruce said, and Wheeler nodded eagerly, seeking validation, seemingly the only validation she had gotten since she worked here. “I like it. I like it a lot.”

“But I think I've got something even spicier,” he continued. “It’s about the missing mustard on my hamburger.” 

Heather rolled her eyes, watching as a hint of dejection flashed across Wheeler’s face while the rest of the men burst into laughter like it was the funniest thing they had ever heard.

“You think you can follow the clues and solve the case of the missing condiment, Nancy Drew?” Bruce said, and Wheeler nodded, coming forward to take the hamburger back from his hand.

“Sorry.”

“Look out, Phil, she might be after your job!”

Wheeler turned around, grabbing the door handle and yanking it open, and Heather heaved a sigh, shaking her head.

“Can’t you just eat it without the mustard?” Heather decided to speak up, hearing the laughter die out in the room as she folded her arms over her chest. “What’s gonna happen if you don’t eat mustard? Will you die?” 

“I just don’t like my food without mustard,” Bruce replied, while she felt Wheeler’s stare from the corner of her eyes.

“Shame, I was hoping for the latter to be true.” She gave him a smile, turning to Wheeler with her hand stretched out. “Give me that.” 

Wheeler looked at her, eyes wide with confusion, before she put the hamburger in her hand. Heather tossed it in the middle of the table, wiping her hands together.

“You either eat it, or starve.”

“Heather,” her dad said. “Watch your language.” 

“Are you gonna sit there and let these imbeciles insult her? Would you have wanted them to say the same things to me, Dad?” she said, looking back at the men. “She’s an employee here, she’s not your assistant or your unfortunate wife. If you want one, get one, and get them to fetch your food instead.” 

“That’s her job,” Bruce said.

“Her job is to work on articles, like the one she just talked about, which, by the way, is much better than what you just proposed,” she retorted. “So, eat your burger with no mustard, or don’t eat at all. You could lose a few pounds, you know, before your wife realizes how much of a halfwit man you are. The only thing you’re good for is money, and you don’t even make that much.” 

Heather inhaled softly as she finished, flashing them a smile one last time, and it was her dad who spoke up first.

“You can have mine. It got mustard. I’ll have the lunch my wife made me.”

“God, you men and your goddamn mustard. It’s such a big problem!” she exclaimed with a deadpan look. “People are losing jobs out there!” 

She gave her dad a final look and pulled the door open. “I’m leaving, Dad,” she said without looking back, and she stepped out of the meeting room.

The last time she was here was Take Your Child to Work Day, which was four years ago, and she left with the same amount of annoyance as she did back then. It was insufferable to stay in a closed space with those men without losing her mind.

She waved at the ladies outside, getting into her car as fast as she could to drive to Billy's house. He wouldn’t mind that she was early.

“Jesus—” Heather kicked at the brake as Wheeler stopped in front of her car. She rolled down her window, poking her head out. “Do you have a death wish? I mean, I get that working here makes you feel like it, but don’t jump in front of my car.” 

Wheeler marched to the opened window, glancing at the empty street before crouching down to meet her gaze. “Sorry.” 

“Okay,” she said. “Is there anything else?”

“Oh, uh,” Wheeler began, resting her hands on the window, and Heather looked at her confusedly. “I want to say something.”

“Are you going to say it any time soon? Because I have somewhere to go.” 

“Yeah, I—” She exhaled sharply, her throat working and her shoulder stiff with tension. “Thank you.” 

“Is that all?” Heather said. “That’s what got you looking like you’re about to tell me you have an undying love for me? A thank you?” 

Wheeler’s face fell, and she stammered, “Well, I mean, you helped me in there, so I thought—”

“I didn’t do it for you.” She tapped the steering wheel impatiently. “I did it because those men were irritating me.” 

“Oh.” 

“And I don’t need your thanks, Wheeler,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s useless.”

Wheeler seemed taken aback, her lips parting. She uttered, “Well, still. I still want to say that. Actually, you’re the first person to ever stand up for me, and I—”

“Not for you.”

“Right, yeah, not for me.” She nodded. “It got them to shut up for once, and I felt like I needed to tell you that.” 

“It wasn’t necessary.” 

“But could you just accept it?” 

“Why do I have to accept it? I didn’t stand up to those men for you, Wheeler.” 

“I still want to say thank you—”

“What’s your problem with insisting on making me accept this?”

“What’s your problem with refusing to accept this? It’s just a thank you, Holloway.”

“And I told you it wasn’t necessary. Words are useless. I don’t need your ‘sorry’ or your ‘thank you’,” Heather said. “Now, would you please let me leave? The longer I stay here, the sooner I feel like the stench from those men is going to get to me.”

Wheeler furrowed her eyebrows, and she said, “Words are useless to you.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you accept other than words?” 

“My god, Wheeler, what’s with you and this need to please everybody?” she groaned. “If I just take your words, will you let me go?” 

“No, because I know it’s not genuine.” 

Heather blew an exasperated breath, chewing on the inside of her cheek, before she nodded. “Okay. Scoops Ahoy. Ask Robin for my favorite flavors.” 

“What?”

“Two scoops of chocolate pudding, one scoop of U.S.S butterscotch. Extra cherries on top. I work tomorrow at one. So bring it to the pool half an hour before my shift.”

“You want me to bring ice cream to the pool for you?”

“That’s what you’re insisting on,” Heather said. “Now, can I leave?” 

Wheeler blinked, straightening her back and taking a step back. “Okay, um, I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” 

“Thank you, again,” she said. “And sorry. Again.”

Heather eyed her expression, her gaze roaming over Wheeler’s face, her wide brown eyes, and her rosy lips. She seemed grateful. Genuinely grateful.

She lifted her hand and wiped the smudge of lipstick against the line of Wheeler's lips, startling her. Her pupils dilated, but she didn’t recoil from her touch.

“You have a voice, use it. They’re men, not monsters, though it’s pretty close,” she said, cradling the side of her face. “Speak up, Nancy Drew. You usually have a much smarter mouth than this.”

“You’ve been looking at my mouth?” Wheeler asked, and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

She smiled. “Don’t be late, Wheeler,” she said, patting Wheeler’s cheek before she withdrew her hand and drove away into the vacant street.

Wheeler was still standing frozen on the spot when Heather checked her side view mirror, seemingly taking the time to process everything.

The smile was plastered on her face even as she hung out with her friends, and they might have both guessed that she did, in fact, stand up for Nancy Wheeler. So maybe she did, and maybe she thought Wheeler wasn't bad like her mom, not to mention that she was much prettier than Karen, but Wheeler didn't have to know all that.

[cyberhades]

Your writing is so good 🥵 Could you write an Eddie fic inspired by the song Do I Wanna Know by AM?

Too Busy Being Yours ੈ♡˳ | Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (use condoms mates), passionate sex, friends to lovers, semi-naked sex, fluffy stuff.

A/N: I'm happy you appreciate my writing! And I absolutely love Arctic Monkeys, I'm so glad to write this request! ♡

YOU HAD AN IDEAL LIFE, even though you lived in Hawkins and many considered it a horrible city. But there was nothing bad about this town. There was nothing wrong with your life as you had amazing friends and loving parents. Apart from the episodes that almost ended in tragedy in the Upside Down, but nothing better than a good adrenaline rush in anyone's life, right?

1986 was indeed a memorable year. You were on your senior year, made new friends, got excellent grades, and beat your friend, Eddie Munson, in a fierce D&D battle at the Hellfire Club. It is worth mentioning that Eddie had never been defeated before, which caused astonishment and admiration. It was nice to have all your friends hugging you and cheering you on, while Eddie looked at you and made a polite move.

Eddie Munson — the freak — and you were best friends for life. You were always together in almost everything you did since elementary school. That metalhead was memorable, and even if you sometimes had some indifference, you found your equals and came to conclusions.

But suddenly, your best friend found himself a little further away from you as he was dating the adorable cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham.

It was something that took you by surprise as he and Chrissy didn't talk much. You mean, they had known each other since middle school, but they didn't have a concrete friendship like yours. That relationship coming up all of a sudden was kind of weird but if Eddie were happy, you were happy too.

— The club's a little out, where's Eddie? — Gareth said, eating a piece of his pudding.

— He's spending time with Chrissy, give him a break — you said, straightening your Hellfire shirt that was a bit rumpled on your body.

— The problem isn't Chrissy, it's just that she seems to be the only one in the world and he left us out — Mike complained, sipping his boxed orange juice.

— I think this is normal, he is in love — you replied, smoothing your hair.

— With all the respect in the world, Eddie is not in love with Chrissy — Dustin simply spoke.

Gareth, Mike and you all turned to him who was sitting at one end of the table. The three of you were shocked, but he was at his best and he was very calm. This was all very strange, because if he wasn't in love with Chrissy, why was he dating her?

That was a very strange and even dubious subject, if you could put it that way. In the end you just took your tray and wanted to act like nothing happened. And mostly, as if what Dustin said hadn't been totally bizarre.

The bell rang and that meant it was time for the boring philosophy class with that weird teacher who didn't know how to explain the subject well. After the philosophy class that felt like an eternity, you went to your locker to put away a few things.

— I'm still thinking about what Dustin said at lunch... — Gareth stopped right beside you, opening and taking things from his locker that was right next to yours. You liked to say you were locker neighbors.

— There's not much to think about Gareth. Dustin's just jealous because Eddie's been hanging out with his girlfriend and has left us a little on the sidelines. But these things do happen... I mean it's okay.

— Man, if you think about it, it's true... like, he just approached Chrissy out of the blue and started dating with her after she broke up with Jason. Like, there's no time to fall in love that fast! — Gareth was still confused and looking for answers. He would look for those answers where they were needed, but he would find a reason.

— Gareth, I think you need to go home and put this thing aside for a bit — you laughed. You were also curious about good gossip and finding reasons just like he was, but you would not give in because Eddie was your best friend.

What Dustin said at lunchtime made sense, and what Gareth said as you grabbed things from the locker in the hallway made sense, too. It was weird seeing Eddie with Chrissy, starting with the fact that he's never liked girls like her, but we can't base love on looks or style either. And it was like Gareth said, it was really out of the blue.

You know he'd known Chrissy for a long time, since middle school. But they weren't friends before, not the way you two were, they just exchanged a few words here and there, did some work together but nothing more. And why would he be falling in love with Chrissy Cunningham out of nowhere?

That night things could change. And it would indeed change because you would have the answer to the questions you so long waited for. While in the living room, you heard the landline ring.

— Hello? — you answered, waiting for the answer. Nobody could call you this late if it wasn't Eddie.

— Hi darling — he said a little apprehensively, as if something bad had just happened.

— Is everything okay? Did something happen?

— I just need to talk. You can come here? or I can go there.

— I'll get the car keys. Don't worry, I'm coming! — you replied already taking the car keys that were on a hook on the wall.

You hung up the phone and took your car keys. On the way you thought about several things, you had known Eddie for many years and you knew when he was hiding something or wanted to say something important. And after hearing his voice on the phone you knew exactly that he had something important to say, you just wanted it to be nothing bad.

In the middle of the trees there was a path you could drive you car through and it was approaching the trailer where Eddie lived with his uncle. You parked in front and got out of the vehicle. Eddie was sitting on the small steps that helped him up and stubbed out a cigarette, stepping on it with his white sneakers.

You left the key in the ignition, and you left only the headlights on as you climbed out of the vehicle and went to see why Munson was crestfallen. He smiled at you. But it was a kind of sad smile and it broke your heart.

You didn't have to go to him. He came to you, and you sat on the hood of your car, looking at him.

Immediately Eddie hugged you. A hug that referred to sadness and maybe longing because there were days that you didn't see each other, since he started dating Chrissy you stopped seeing each other with a certain frequency. And this frequency was decreasing and decreasing until you practically didn't see each other at school anymore, considering you didn't even have classes together.

The metalhead took a deep breath and pressed you a little against him. It's been a while since you hugged him, but to be honest, you've never hugged him with as much emotion as you were hugging him now. Your hands were subtly caressing his back and his were doing the same to your back.

So far you hadn't said anything. And you wanted to break this silence. 'Cause believe me, the silence between you was screaming.

— Will you tell me what happened? — you left a kiss on his uncovered shoulder.

It was spring. It wasn't as hot as it was on summer days but the freezing winter weather wasn't there either. That climate was suitable for clothes without much "cloth".

Eddie, for example, was wearing jeans and a white tank top. And you were wearing a loose white dress with delicate straps and a red all star.

— I broke up with Chrissy... — he said in a sad tone, but not as sad as the tone of voice of someone who has just broken up with the person they love.

You slid your hands up his arm, pulling away from the hug so you could see his face. The unruly hair falling over his face made him beautiful.

— What!? Why!?

— My relationship with Chrissy was a terrible thing from the beginning, it's hard to explain. But it was something that was only hurting us... — Eddie seemed to want to hesitate whatever he said.

— But in the end it all went well?

— Yup! She understands me because she was feeling the same as I was.

— I'm so sorry... new relationships will come... — you tried to comfort him any way you could. — But... did you really love Chrissy? I mean, I know it seems like I'm intruding too much, but it's always been really weird.

— No... — he replied firmly.

— No?

— Yeah... you know... I tried to love her but I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new.

He said in a sure way looking at you passionately. At the time you didn't know how to react, you never imagined having that kind of conversation with Eddie, not even in some crazy dream one night. It was weird that he had told you that, you could just pretend he was bluffing.

Your heart was beating a mile a minute and it felt like at any moment your chest was going to explode. It was nervousness mixed with anxiety.

— Have you just got colour in your cheeks? — he laughed silly.

Your cheeks were heating up, as if they were going to combust, and it was obvious he'd noticed that. His effect on you was surreal.

— Eddie... I... — you weren't able to contextualize a sentence because the feelings were screaming louder.

— I dreamt about you nearly every night this week... because I always wanted to talk to you about it but I was distant and the distance seemed to remind me all the time that I have to take responsibility for my feelings. I'll never get along with anyone because I'll always be crawling back to you... so... — he took a deep breath and closed his eyes before continuing. — I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways?

You didn't say anything because it seemed that all your feelings contained during these years could not be described in words. Simple and silly words.

You immediately pulled him by the shirt so you could bring your lips to his. Fulfilled a dream you've been wanting for a long time, not just you, but he wanted for a long time too. His lips on yours had you completely mesmerized, waiting for more every moment.

— Yeah, this feeling goes both ways... — you said catching some air due to a break in that hot, sensual kiss.

That was more than enough to make Eddie smile and pull you in for another kiss. Your hands were around his neck and his big, warm hands with icy, detailed rings held your thighs around his hips. The kissing noises were making both of you horny, mixed with some moans that were impossible to control.

Eddie's sly tongue explored every corner of your mouth masterfully, making you feel extremely comfortable and also very desired. Desired in a way you've never felt in your life. You could not help but feel totally protected and loved in Eddie Munson's arms.

You held the wavy brown haired metalhead's arms and you could feel his biceps. Dear God, that man really was a work of art.

He started to lean you a little over the hood of the car and continued to kiss you. A needy, passionate kiss. His warm kisses slid down your neck to your collarbone. He watched you as he ran his fingers through the thin straps of your dress.

— Can I? — he asked sweetly. Looking at you with those chocolate eyes.

— Yes...

You two weren't virgins anymore. Not losing your virginity to each other as you had in your dreams but that was something to be disregarded. The important thing was to enjoy the moment you were having now, and the countless moments you would have later.

Fingers nimble from years of experience as a guitarist slipped the straps of your dress down to your abdomen. Now your breasts were fully uncovered and your nipples were tight. All because of him.

— Fuck... — he cursed hoarsely as he looked at your body.

He placed gentle kisses on your breasts, smacking kisses. The kisses went to your nipples, and he started sucking on them. He masterfully sucked one while massaging the other, making you grab those wavy hairs of his.

— Oh my God... — you rolled your eyes and moaned in response to his caresses.

— Do you like it? — he asked. His hot breath was against the skin of your chest and he also lightly bit your nipple.

— I love it... — you moaned at that sudden touch already feeling your panties get soaked.

He went down a trail of kisses down your belly, until he reached the part where were the dress. You held his shoulder and he immediately looked at you.

— I need you inside of me, please Eddie... — you asked a little shy. It was weird to be saying lewd things to him when you'd been best friends all your lives.

— Are you sure? — Eddie didn't want to take advantage of the situation. He wanted you to feel comfortable doing that with him. As much as he dreamed of doing to you.

— Yes honey, I am... — the fact that you called him "honey" turned him on and also made him feel warm in his chest.

That warmth in his chest was the love that blossomed more by the second. The overwhelming and uncontrollable passion.

Reaching the skirt of your dress, he slid the fabric until it was just above your panties. The moment he saw the libido stain on your panties he felt his cock throb inside his pants, even more than before. He was extremely horny, and it was your fault.

— Is this all for me? — he smiled slyly.

— Yes... it is... — you replied kind of awkwardly. You were too exposed to him, exposed in a way you've never been before.

His fingers slid down the sides of your panties, and he tugged them down your legs, off your body in the blink of an eye. Now he had that thin piece of fabric in his hands as he watched your sex dripping with excitement over him.

— You can't imagine how much I dreamed of making you all mine...

He stuffed your panties into his jeans pocket and started unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans right away. When he lowered his pants along with his underwear, his cock was near his stomach. His hard cock was melted with pre-cum.

— You can make me yours now... — you said a little shy, but very sure of what you wanted.

He held his cock by the base, penetrating your wet, hot, tight insides afterward. A moan of satisfaction left the metalhead's lips and a muffled, surprised moan left your lips. It was being so good to be with him like this that it felt more like a lie. You could never imagine that sex with Eddie Munson would feel this good.

He waited a minute for you to adjust to his size. Eddie wasn't small and that could hurt you, but he knew how to use it properly. If you were told that tonight you would be lying on the hood of your car having sex with Eddie Munson in front of his trailer you would say it was impossible.

His hands were gripping your thighs and he was lying on top of you, kissing your neck to make you feel as loved as possible. Because he loved you a lot. He never thought he could love anyone as much as he loves you.

— You feel so good... holy fuck... — you swore as he placed kisses on your neck.

You hugged his back while he could delight in feeling your bare nipples being lightly rubbed against his chest covered by the white tank top he wore.

— Making love to you feels so good princess... — he whispered against your ear.

The subtle sound of your bodies was enough to make the two of you thirsty for more. Your skin was so hot you felt like you were going to catch fire and that would consume your bodies like flames in a fire. It was impossible not to feel in heaven with that.

He slid his hands over your body with all the affection in the world, as they were now squeezing your breasts, now they were in the curve of your waist and now they were on your thighs. He was careful and he was being even more so because he had the love of his life in his arms.

— I love you, Y/N — he said getting close to an orgasm in a slightly sly voice.

— I-I love you too, Eddie — you said in a slightly slurred voice.

It was a very crazy mix of sensations. You were horny to have him inside you and you were thrilled to know that you were loved by him as you always wanted.

— C-Can I come inside you? — he asked between moans.

— Y-Yeah... — you said with difficulty, feeling the knot in your stomach being vulnerable. At any moment it would burst. — Eddie, I'm gonna come... I'm very close...

— I'm close too... please, please come while kissing me please — he said it in a sly, desperate tone that made you horny.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him and bringing him into a passionate kiss as he thrusts you. The smacks of the kiss were mixed with your needy moans. And it didn't take long for you to come on his cock, moaning against his mouth as you hugged his back.

And he came inside you, filling you the way you wanted, and he wanted too. The thrusts got more sloppy until he stopped and pulled out of you.

At that moment both were panting and he had his head on your chest while you stroked his hair. He'd already slipped on the jeans and had already helped you hide your nudity with your thin dress.

— Are you happy? — he asked, placing a kiss on your breast covered by the fabric of the dress.

— I am — you hid your face in the crook of his neck. — And you, are you happy?

— Me? I'm happy like I've never been before! — he replied, looking at you passionately. — I love you.

— I love you too.

— A lot... — he added to what he had said before.

— A lot... — you added what you said too.

And so he brought his hand up to your cheek, pulling you into another passionate, slow kiss. There was no other word that could describe that night other than "perfect".

[...]

TAGLIST 𓆩♡𓆪

@eddiemunsons-girl @tvandfanfic @chaoticmunson @iliveforotps @queenariesofnarnia @maxmavfield @mayfieldsqueen @eddiemuns0nswig @kellynickelsgirl00 @hellfireswhxre

[neonponders]

I did a D&D dice version of this here ~

I’m thinking of personality traits in the form of how many drinks they have at breakfast.

Steve is a one glass person (orange juice) until he gets with Billy. Then it becomes a glass of water, coffee (iced or hot depending on the season), and a bloody mary if he’s feeling festive.

Billy has water and coffee when he’s younger, but the coffee switches to a strong brewed tea when he’s older alongside a smoothie. Smoothie switches to a screwdriver for weekends/brunch.

Dustin is a milk and juice guy. He tries to drink coffee to be cool but he has acid reflux.

Will drinks milk until he’s older, and he’s all about smoothies and juice blends. His favorites involve tropical fruits and avocado for the color and texture.

If nobody puts a drink in front of him, Mike eats breakfast without anything so he almost chokes on his last bite because that boy is so un-lubricated.

Lucas drinks a soda over breakfast. Max strongly disagrees with this.

Max always tries whatever Billy’s drinking when he leaves to use the bathroom. She has to admit that he has good taste in smoothies. Billy’s too proud to admit that’s he’s turned into a tea snob but Max will tell you in detail.

Nancy makes a coffee for herself and only drinks half of it.

Jonathan drinks the rest of Nancy’s coffee and always buys two of whatever Will’s drinking so he can understand his brother’s evolution in preferences.

Contrary to popular assumption, Chrissy doesn’t drink strawberry milk. Eddie does. He’s also done the atrocity that is pouring whiskey into Cheerios. He’s a chaos drink person.

Chrissy does enjoy going to the Asian Market and trying all the milks that aren’t mainstream - melon milk, soy, oat, taro, etc.

[introvertedsocialworker]

This Is Our Year

CHAPTER 1

‘THIRD VICTIM IN HAWKINS KILLINGS: MUNSON STILL AT LARGE’

The headline glares back at me from across the kitchen table as my dad flips through the pages of the Hawkins Post. Any interest in the eggs on my plate is completely lost as my mind begins to circle around one question. How?

It didn’t make sense. At least not to me. The brutal murderer and the kind – granted, also very excentric - young man I laughed with in the dim Hawkins High hallway while I headed to the basketball game seemed worlds apart. And it wasn’t like that was the first time I had talked to Eddie Munson. I spent hours with him senior year while attempting to tutor him in Mr. Jeffrey’s English class. As we spent more time laughing and talking than actually studying, it perhaps wasn’t that surprising he didn’t graduate. For the second time.

But he wasn’t what the papers were calling him. Monster, satanic mastermind, cult leader. This headline and its predecessors were precisely why I left town for college. Indianapolis may still be the Midwest but at least it wasn’t Hawkins. Hawkins was a small town with an even smaller tolerance for the “strange”.

Even as I was preparing to leave Hawkins, Eddie had his fingers dung in deep without knowing it. Listening to Prince sing at Market Square Arena with my fellow college orientees, I wished he was there. I wanted to know if the music would get his metal head nodding, his hips swaying. If he would reach out to take my hand, pull me into his orbit. Perhaps we’d dance, getting closer, closer, closer…

“Kathleen, honey.” My mother claps her hands at me. I shake out of my daydream, blinking at her. “Honey, are you okay? You look flushed.”

Feeling heat crawl up my neck, I take a sip of orange juice.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here.” Noting the still empty chair to my right, I ask, “Where’s Robin?” Since returning to Hawkins for my spring break, I’ve only had rare glimpses of her.

At the question, Dad’s face falls into a frown as Mom’s simultaneously blooms into a wide grin.

“With Steve Harrington.”

Oh. That’s… unexpected.

“And some others. She runs with an interesting group these days. But mostly Steve Harrington.” My mom adds, clutching her coffee cup to her chest. “She works with him at the Family Video, you know. Perhaps romance is in the air!”

Thinking back to the night Robin had told me about Tammy Thompson, I would say that’s highly unlikely but I give my mom a tight lipped smile anyway.

“Maybe! Regardless, don’t you think it’s a little risky to have her running around while there’s an alleged killer on the loose?”

“Not alleged, Katie Kat, that Chrissy Cunningham girl died in Munson’s trailer. There’s no doubt he killed her.” My dad asserts, turning to the next page in the paper.

Eddie. His name is Eddie. I feel my fingernails dig into my palm. Not waiting for a response to the previous question, I stand and bring my dishes to the kitchen sink.

“I’d feel better putting eyes on her. Did she tell you where she was planning to go with Steve?”

“I thought I overheard something about Henderson when he picked her up. Dustin Henderson’s house, maybe?”

I nod and grab my purse, keys, and kiss my parents goodbye, starting to drive north. I’m stopped at a red light when I see Harrington’s unmistakable BMW loaded with teenagers and my sister in the front passenger seat. I curse, waiting impatiently for the light to turn green before moving to follow the car from a distance. For a moment I think they're heading towards Lover’s Lake and my heart lodges in my throat considering the murder scene that is no doubt still being processed. But as they turn further east, the memory of sweaty palms on the steering wheel, heading to what I thought were clandestine meetings in high school kick in. I know immediately where they’re headed.

Skull Rock.

I don’t even try to puzzle out why they’re headed there. I turn swiftly towards the gravel back road leading to a shortcut not even Harrington knew about. I swallow hard at the memories that flood me, turning the ignition off and heading into the greenery.

Eddie showed it to me.

:::::::::

“Let me know if you want to cash in your honorary Hellfire Club membership. I’d love to have you, Kat.”

He blushed after he said it. I remembered noticing that despite the shadows. He excused himself quickly after that but that last sentence rang through my head for the remainder of the night.

I’d love to have you.

Just like it was now as I made my way through the woods. Over the past year, we had exchanged letters. He’d write about how proud he was of his bandmates’ musical growth each time Corroded Coffin performed (even if it mainly was in the boy’s garage at this point), how he was sure this would be his year and he would graduate. I’d write about how I loved the city, expressing how glad I was to have finished the required math course so I could focus on my English Lit degree.

Slipped in between these updates however were hints of the ember that had begun to grow over that spring semester of 1985.

Mrs. Click’s history class is even worse without you here.

Metallica is coming to Indianapolis in April. Have you finished learning “Master of Puppets” yet?

I picked up The Woman In Black from the library. You might make a reader out of me yet, Kat.

Do you remember watching the stars by Skull Rock, Eddie? I can’t see as many stars here. I think about that night a lot.

Come home soon. I miss you.

Eddie couldn’t have committed these crimes. It’s not possible. Or I hope not. I come to this conclusion as I trump up the hill, Skull Rock in sight. There was no sound of cracking sticks or leaves being rustled besides my own. Why would they come here?

I pull out my small pepper spray canister in case my little sister has gotten into something way over her head. Nearing the rock, I call out, “Hello?”

Nothing.

“If there’s anyone here, I want you to know I have a weapon. I know how to use it too. You shouldn’t be meeting kids in the woods when there’s a literal mur–”

I’m cut off by one arm grabbing me around my middle and a hand covering my mouth in an attempt to muffle my scream. I kick, struggling as hard as I can before I hear a familiar hiss.

“Kat, Kat, it’s me. It’s Edd– Jesus Christ!” I slam my foot down on his and he releases me. I stumble away, turning to face him.

As he curses and clutches his foot, I can’t help but survey him. Make sure he’s okay. There wasn’t a scratch on him but his curly hair looks slightly damp and his clothes are wrinkled. Most obviously, his eyes look deeply tired. This isn’t a crazed murderer elluding escape. This is a scared young man at the center of a witch hunt.

An onslaught of emotions hit me all at once. I find myself striding towards him quickly, and I see his eyes widen slightly.

I shove his leather clad shoulder, teeth gritted, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! You don’t sneak up on women! I could have maimed you!”

Then suddenly I find myself grabbing and pulling him into a tight hug. Initially, he doesn’t reciprocate but as he doesn't see an imminent threat of me hitting him again I feel his arms wrap around my waist. His normal smell of cloves and smoke is mixed with lake water but I’m not deterred. I’m overwhelmed by the release I feel knowing he’s okay.

“One, I’m sorry, I couldn’t have you calling attention to us. Two, you did maim me by stomping my foot to smithereens. And,” He pulls back just enough to give me his signature smiles, “three, look at you all grown up and saying fuck.”

Despite myself, I laugh softly, “Shut up. You’re lucky I didn’t pepper spray you.”

“That’s probably the luckiest thing that’s happened to me all week.”

I sigh, taking his face in hands, “Eddie, what happ–”

“Uh, Kat?”

Immediately down the hill is my sister, followed by Steve Harrington, Dustin Henderson,  Nancy Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and Max Mayfield in various states of confusion.

Dustin pushes to the front, a mix of dread and a touch of intrigue painting his features.

“Well, shit.”

That’s when I realized Eddie and I were still holding each other.

:::::

Author Note: if you’d like to be added to the tag it list for upcoming chapters, I have a post on my main page. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy.

[singledarkshade]

Finding Home

Part Two Author’s Note: I did not originally intend to write anymore of this but more appeared. The first part can be found here.

Time went by achingly slowly and Jonas spent all day watching the clock. Finally, the end of school arrived, Jonas grabbed his stuff heading to his locker at top speed. Reaching his locker, Jonas tried not to grimace seeing his friends waiting for him.

“Friday night,” Dean cried, the moment he spotted Jonas, “Are we heading out? To drink heavily and eat like pigs?”

Jonas smiled amused at his friend whose idea of a big night out was half a pizza and a large coffee.

“Can’t,” Jonas told his best friend as they started walking, “Family stuff tonight. I have to get home.”

“Your mom never makes you do things,” Chrissie said surprised, “This must be important.”

A smile touched Jonas face, “It is.”

As they left the building Jonas spotted his mother’s car just outside the gates and turned back to his friends, “I will see you on…”

“Who’s that guy with your mom?” Heather cut him off.

Turning Jonas smiled to see the man Heather was talking about, looking exactly as Jonas always remembered him. Dressed in dark jeans, a white shirt, brown leather jacket and his duster.

Jonas loved that coat, he used to put it on to pretend he was saving the world like his dad, and he had woken up many times wrapped in it held in the arms of his hero.

Looking at his mother, Jonas tilted his head questioningly. She gave him a quick nod confirming it was allowed.

“That,” Jonas turned to his friends with a huge grin on his face, “Is my dad.”

The three of them stared at him.

Dean finally said, “You told me your dad was dead.”

“I thought he was,” Jonas told him before he headed over to his parents knowing his friends were following on. His dad wrapped one arm around him in a quick hug the moment Jonas reached him.

“Dad,” Jonas couldn’t stop his grin, “These are my friends. Dean, Chrissie and Heather.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” his dad said with a slight nod.

“You too, Mr Burns,” Dean replied before adding, “We were told you were dead.”

Jonas grimaced slightly wondering how they were going to explain this but said quickly, “Very long story which I will tell you at another time. See you Monday.”

“Oh,” Dean winced, “You’re not going to make the game then?”

Jonas sighed, hating to disappoint his friend, “I’m going to spend the weekend with my dad.”

“We can go to the game,” his dad spoke up, “If you want. You may have to explain the rules to me though.”

 Rip could see Miranda trying hard not to laugh as he agreed to go to a high school American Football match, but any time that he spent with Jonas was time well spent as far as Rip was concerned.

Jonas however looked ecstatic.

“That’s cool,” Rip’s son exclaimed, “I can teach you everything you need to know.”

“It’ll be great, Mr Burns,” Dean spoke up, “This is against our biggest rivals.”

“I look forward to it,” Rip told the other teenager.

They made their goodbyes and climbed into the car.

“Are we going back to the house or the apartment?” Jonas asked as Miranda began to drive.

“We’re going home,” Miranda replied with a smile.

Jonas hesitated a moment, “Home?”

Rip turned and nodded, the joyful smile on his son’s face lighting up the world around him. When Miranda drew up in the driveway Rip realised that he was, after so much pain and grief, finally home once more with his wife and son. Jonas instantly moved to his side the moment they got out of the car and walked with him inside.

  “We are not doing this too much,” Miranda said after she ordered food, “And since you’re now back with us,” she sat beside Rip, “You can cook.”

A smile touched his lips, it had been a long time since he’d been able to cook for the people he loved. Being on his own meant he didn’t enjoy it as much as he had when cooking for Miranda and Jonas.

“Whenever you want me to,” Rip promised, leaning in to catch her lips in a kiss.

She let out a soft hum of happiness, before she asked, “Are you sure about going with Jonas to the game tomorrow? I’ve never thought of you as a sports guy.”

“I’m getting to spend time with Jonas,” Rip reminded her, “I don’t care how I do it. Plus, this lets me meet his friends.”

Miranda smiled at him before she frowned in thought, “We need to work out a story to explain basically everything.”

“I already have,” Rip shrugged.

“Care to share, darling?” Miranda asked sharply.

Rip pressed a kiss to her neck, “We should wait until Jonas is with us to discuss.”

Miranda chuckled at the obvious attempt to distract her, “You’re not changing the subject that easily, Rip. We’re discussing this first. We need to be a united front with Jonas, we have to be a team.”

He pulled away, frowning as he began to pace.

“Rip,” Miranda moved into his path, “Look at me.”

Slowly his eyes found hers finding only love in her eyes.

“I know you’ve been alone for a long time,” Miranda took his face in her hands so he couldn’t pull away, “I know how hard that shell around you is, I’ve had to break through it once before.”

“Miranda…”

“Rip,” she stopped him, “You have to let me in.”

He stared at her for several minutes before whispering, “What if I lose you again?”

“Darling…”

“It will kill me,” Rip breathed, resting his forehead against hers, “I’ve tried to live without you, and I wasn’t living.”

Miranda kissed him, holding him close, “I know how you feel because I thought you were dead too.”

She moved him back to the couch and cuddled close to him, just letting him breathe.

“I was thinking that we tell people you and Jonas were in witness protection,” Rip said after several minutes, “Because I worked in law enforcement and one of the people I was after put me in the hospital. You and Jonas were placed under protection while I recovered but a colleague who was working with our ‘bad guy’ told you I was dead and told me the same about you. We’ve only found each other again by pure chance.”

Miranda mused for a moment before nodding, “That makes sense and is not that far from the truth. It explains Jonas and I using different names all these years, as well as your sudden reappearance in our lives.”

Rip rested his head against hers, smiling as Miranda held him revelling in being back with his family.

                                 *********************************************

 Miranda woke early the next morning, smiling to feel her husband holding her close in his sleep. She could hear his slow measured breathing; a sound she’d missed so much through the years they’d been apart. The comfort of his embrace was something she’d wished for and never thought she’d have ever again.

Turning to look at him, Miranda smiled to see the scruff on his chin, his beard was growing back, soon he’d look like himself once more. The worry lines he wore were smoothed away as he slept, making him look like the man she’d met so many years before.

She knew how hard his work as a Time Master had been, knew how much he needed the security of their home and love. Learning what Druce had done to him, how the faith he’d had in the Time Masters had been ripped away, Miranda hated them more than she ever had.

These Legends would also get a piece of her mind whenever they arrived for not helping keep his head above water when he needed the friends that he claimed them to be.

Rip murmured, shifting uncomfortably as bad dreams invaded his rest, so Miranda gently stroked his hair, it had always made him relax before, and she smiled to see that it still did.

Checking the time, Miranda knew she wasn’t going to get anymore sleep. Now Rip was resting again, she eased herself away from him watching as he pulled her pillow close. She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before heading downstairs to make some breakfast.

  “Morning,” Jonas wandered into the kitchen, heading to the fridge, and pulling out orange juice.

“Morning,” Miranda smiled at her son, before frowning, “Don’t even think about drinking out the carton.”

“I wasn’t,” he said sheepishly, grabbing a glass and poured the juice into it.

Miranda chuckled to herself as she drank her tea,

“Where’s Dad?” Jonas asked, putting the carton back in the fridge.

“Still asleep,” Miranda told him, “But he’s looking forward to going to the game with you today.”

Jonas grinned.

“Honey,” Miranda said softly, “I know you’re excited to have him with you but remember your dad has been alone for a long time and has gone through a lot. He might not be how you remember him.”

Nodding Jonas replied, “I understand that. I’m not a kid anymore either.”

“I know,” Miranda sighed, “Just don’t push him too much.”

“What do you mean?”

Miranda rested her hand on her son’s shoulder, “What do you remember most about your dad? When he was with us, what do you think of first?”

“He sang,” Jonas smiled, “When he was making dinner. You two would dance and he would pick me up to join in.”

“He might not sing for a while,” Miranda told him, “Because right now he’s still trying to get used to having us with him again. It was hard for us to be without him, but we had each other. Your Dad thought we were both gone. So, be patient if he isn’t quite who you remember, okay?”

Jonas hugged her, “I promise.”

  Rip opened his eyes aware he was alone in a room he’d never woken in before. Turning to look at the empty space beside him, he saw the picture of him holding Jonas the day he was born on the table beside the bed. That moment had been the best of his life. Stretching, Rip could faintly hear noise coming from downstairs and when he focussed could hear the two people he loved most in the world. He couldn’t make out what they were saying but just hearing their voices was amazing. It occurred to him suddenly that this was his home now, and it overwhelmed him for a moment. He thought he’d lost this so long ago, that he’d lost them, and it felt unreal.

Rip slid out of bed, had a shower and dressed, feeling a bit like an intruder. Taking a slow deep breath, he headed downstairs finding his wife and son having breakfast.

“Morning,” Miranda smiled at him, giving him a quick kiss.

Rip instantly relaxed, “Morning,” he turned to his son, “Ready for today’s game?”

“I’ve had several messages from Dean already,” Jonas laughed, “Making sure we’re coming.”

Miranda chuckled before explaining, “Jonas has been to every game since Dean started on the team except one. They lost that game, so Jonas now has to make them all or it’s a bad sign.”

At the beep from his phone, Jonas rolled his eyes, “I’ll be back.”

Disappearing as he called his friend, Rip watched his son wistfully.

“You’re still his hero,” Miranda murmured to him.

“It’s hard knowing how much of his life I’ve missed,” Rip sighed, “And seeing him like this, he’s so grown up.”

“I know, Darling,” Miranda rubbed his arm comfortingly.

Rip turned to her, “You can come with us today.”

“This is your time with your son,” Miranda told him, “Besides, I have a self-defence class at the same time,”

“You’re going to a self-defence class?” Rip asked bemused, since he knew Miranda could take his best agents down easily.

Miranda laughed, “I teach the class. It’s only a recent thing I started to do but I enjoy it.”

“Okay,” Rip smiled, “As long as you’re sure.”

“I will see you both at the end of the game,” Miranda told him, she caught his hand, “Just beware of the other parents. An unknown person in their midst, you will hear a lot of murmurs.”

Rip shrugged, “I’m sure I can handle it. And if I can’t, Jonas will be able to.”

Miranda drew him close, “I know he isn’t the little boy you remember but he is incredibly smart and funny,” she smiled, “And he is ecstatic to have you back in his life.”

                                 *********************************************

 Jonas grinned as he walked with his dad towards the football field, his mum had dropped them off before her class and would join them at the end. Heading towards the entrance he suddenly frowned in thought.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

Knowing his mother and remembering what he’d been told of his father and his upbringing, Jonas hesitated for a moment before asking, “How many weapons do you have on you?”

His dad shrugged, “Just the dagger in my boot but it won’t be picked up by any detectors of this time.”

“Okay,” Jonas nodded, that wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined.

They headed easily through the door, towards the stands and Jonas grinned as he led his dad to seats just behind where the players were sitting.

“Hey,” Dean called from his spot, waving up to them before going back to warming up.

“I mentioned I do not know the rules or anything else about this game,” his dad said as he took his seat, “Haven’t I?”

Jonas chuckled, “You did. Don’t worry, I’ll explain as we go,” glancing round he could see the interested looks his dad was garnering and hoped no one made any comments. From his memory and what his mum had told him, Jonas knew his father could slash people with his tongue just as easily as a knife.

  Rip was instantly aware that his presence with Jonas had caused a lot of interest. He’d never liked being the centre of attention, having been trained to blend into the background and be forgettable so that he could do his job. He knew appearing from nowhere with Jonas was going to cause some interest but was doing his best to ignore it.

Thankfully the game started, and all the attention moved to the field. Jonas was extremely good at explaining everything that was going on, even while cheering on his friends and to Rip’s surprise, he was beginning to understand what was happening as well as become invested in the game.

  Jonas hoped his dad was enjoying himself, but his dad didn’t really give much away. He was very aware of the looks they were being given by the parents of his classmates and was relieved when Chrissie and Heather appeared.

“Hi, Mr Burns,” Chrissie beamed as they grabbed seats beside them.

His dad nodded hello returning his attention to the game. Jonas wondered how they were going to explain everything since his parents hadn’t given him the story that they’d come up with yet, but he hoped it meant that he’d be allowed to use his real name once more. He wondered how his friends would react to it. A yell pulled his attention back to the field he saw his friend had the ball.

“Come on, Dean,” Jonas jumped to his feet with everyone as they watched Dean run, “Come on.”

As Dean scored, Jonas jumped and yelled turning he found his father also on his feet clapping. A smile covered Jonas’ face when his dad wrapped an arm around his shoulders as the crowd celebrated.

  Miranda arrived at the school with about five minutes left of the game and smiled to see her son and husband sitting together. It felt so good to see Jonas with his dad once more, her son had missed that connection for so long. Heading down to join them, Miranda could feel eyes on her and could hear the whispers of interest, but she kept the blithe smile on her lips knowing how much it would drive all the gossips crazy. Reaching the row, she slid along and took the seat at Rip’s side.

“Hi,” she grinned at her son before turning her husband to her and planting a quick kiss on him. She felt Rip’s body stiffen in worry of being caught and squeezed his hand, “It’s okay. It’s allowed now.”

“Old habits,” he murmured.

“How are we doing?” Miranda asked their son.

Jonas grinned at her, “We’re winning but not by much.”

As soon as he spoke Dean got the ball, Miranda joined everyone on their feet, “Come on,” she yelled. Rip’s amused smile made her shrug, “I’m an involved parent.”

They continued to cheer as Dean ran before scoring to win the game. Miranda smiled as he watched her son with his friends celebrating while she leaned into her husband who was watching their boy.

“His life is so different from ours at his age,” Rip whispered.

Miranda nodded, “I made sure of that.” Squeezing his hand, she asked, “Will we go home?”

“Sounds good,” Rip smiled.

  Walking back to the car Rip wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders as Jonas talked to his friends a few steps in front of them.

“Sandra,” a call came from behind them making Miranda grimace.

She looked at Rip and sighed, “Wonderful. Let me do the talking.”

“Yes, dear,” he murmured as they turned to find a tall dark-haired woman coming towards them.

“Janelle,” Miranda smiled, “Did you enjoy the game?”

“Of course, it was great we won,” Janelle smiled before moving on quickly to what she wanted to know, “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your…friend?”

Miranda continued to smile in the way that Rip knew meant to tread very carefully, “This is my husband.”

“You’ve remarried?” Janella demanded amazed.

Miranda shook her head, “No.”

Janelle stared at her for a moment before glancing at Rip who returned the stare, “How wonderful for you to be back together after all those years when he wasn’t here. Jon must be happy to have a father again after all this time.”

“Be very careful what rumours you decide to start,” Miranda said, taking a step towards the other woman, “Remember the last time you and I disagreed.”

Fear flitted across the other woman’s eyes and Rip forced himself not to laugh.

“Goodnight, Janelle,” Miranda took Rip’s hand, “We’ll see you at the next PTA meeting.”

As they walked away, Rip murmured, “Should I ask what you did to her?”

Miranda chuckled, “Oh you know me, dear.”

“That’s exactly why I’m asking,” he replied.

Miranda smiled but said nothing as they continued to the car.

                                 *********************************************

 Miranda could feel Rip’s nerves as they sat in the school Principal’s office, she was a little worried herself at how their story would be received. Then again, they had both been raised to lie.

“Don’t worry,” Miranda rested her hand on his, “It will be fine.”

The door opened and Principal Everly walked in, “Good morning,” she greeted them, “Sorry, it’s been a bit of a crazy morning.”

“Not a problem,” Miranda told her.

“And Mr Burns,” Everly smiled offering Rip her hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Rip shook her hand murmuring politely, “And you.”

“Okay,” Everly took a seat, “Sandra, I understand you wanted this meeting to update us on the changes in Jon’s circumstances. But as you know your son is a straight-A student and we’ve seen no changes in his behaviour. I would give anything to have a school full of kids like him.”

“Actually,” Miranda said as she smiled proudly at the other woman’s words, “That’s not why we called the meeting. I’m sure you’re interested to know why we told everyone my husband was dead when he’s sitting here.”

Everly grimaced before saying, “I admit I am very interested.”

Squeezing his hand, Miranda launched into the story they’d concocted. Everly listened until Miranda finished, and she shook her head.

“Wow,” Everly breathed, “Sandra, I have no idea what to say.” She mused for a few seconds before shaking herself, “As you were under witness protection, I’m assuming your real names are not what we have on record.”

“No. Our real surname is Hunter. I’m Miranda, this is Rip and our son is Jonas,” Miranda told her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miranda and Rip,” Everly smiled.

“Jonas is going to tell his friends the full story today,” Miranda told her, “But we have agreed that he will continue to use Jon Burns officially until graduation so not to confuse things.”

“Of course,” Everly smiled, “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Mr Hunter and hope you become as involved with us as San…Miranda is.”

  Rip let out a long sigh of relief as they left the school.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Miranda laughed, leaning into him.

“Giving our names like that,” Rip grimaced, “It’s not what I’m used to.”

Miranda kissed him, “I know, dear. Things are different now. You’ll get used to it.”

Rip smiled, “As long as I have you and Jonas, then I know I will.”

Chuckling, Miranda noted, “Since you are still off work for the rest of the week, how about we go for lunch?”

“How about I make you lunch?” Rip suggested, “That means I don’t have to share you with anyone else.”

Miranda smiled, “I do love when you’re possessive.”

Chuckling Rip held his wife close as they walked to the car, happy to be together although still trying to get his head around everything.

  “How did your friends react to the story?” Rip asked his son as Jonas grabbed some orange juice from the fridge when he arrived home from school.

Jonas chuckled, “They were fascinated. It’s a pity I can’t tell them the full truth but it’s as close as it comes.”

“What about your name?”

He shrugged, “They tried calling me Jonas, but I’ve been Jon to them for so long it was a bit weird.”

“At least I won’t have to be careful using your real name around them,” Rip smiled, wrapping his arm around his son for a quick hug. It was something he’d fallen into whenever Jonas was close, and thankfully Jonas didn’t mind being constantly hugged by his father – for now anyway.

“Your mother has invited Gary for dinner tonight,” Rip told Jonas, “She wants you to get to know him too.”

Jonas nodded before asking, “How does that work? He used to be an AI and is now human?”

Rip shrugged, “I’m not precisely sure how it happened. I think it has to do with when the Vanishing Point was destroyed and the Oculus interacting with his programme. I’m hoping when Gideon returns, I can get her to look into it.”

Jonas grinned, “She’s going to be really surprised to see us.”

Rip nodded.

“Are you just going to tell her,” Jonas asked, “Or do you have something more entertaining planned?”

“I hadn’t thought of that but…” a smile touched her lips, “That could be a good idea.”

Jonas grinned, “It’ll be fun.”

“We can work on it,” Rip told him, “We have some time.”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Happy Father’s day; Roger Taylor x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys I know this isn’t really THE chapter that everyone is dreading but I figure before I even do that, I need to give you guys SOME form of fluff so I sat down and thought to myself, in honor of Father’s Day why not do a Father’s day Rock Angel chapter. So in this chapter it’s filled with NOTHING BUT PURE ROGER TAYLOR FLUFF! I hope you all enjoy this little update and until the next one, make sure you have tissues on hand.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@platawnic​

@queensdivas​

@queendeakyy​

@kairosfreddie​

@onebigfangirlworld​

@bohemiansweede​

@5sos-wdw​

@labessieisallama​

@isabella-bby​

@dj-lowkey​

@naturalswifty89​

@starswin​

@geek-and-proud​

________________________________________________________

*June 21st, 1984. Roger’s POV*

I was sleeping peacefully in my bed.  After getting in home late from doing some last minute adjustments to my second solo album Strange Frontier, I deserved to sleep till lunchtime.  Well I did till I felt the little man come up and jump on my bed and crawl up to me.

“Daddy wake up.” I felt him nudge my shoulder.  I pretended to stay asleep even though I was completely aware of him. “Dad wake up!” he whined before pouncing on top of my back and crying out even louder “Dad! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! DAD!!!” I smiled into my pillow and rose up from my sleep which forced Felix to roll off me.

“What is it Felix?” I yawned out. “Didn’t your mum tell you not to disturb daddy when he comes in late from work?”

“I know but I couldn’t wait any longer to give you this.” He then held up a handmade heart card. I brought it closer to my face so that I could read it better and it said in blue crayon.

To Daddy

From Felix

I opened the card up and there was a little poem.  It read:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Guitars are cool

But not as cool as you

Happy Father’s day to the best Daddy in the world!

Love Felix Taylor

I smiled and brought my little man close to me, gently ruffling his hair.

“Thanks pal. I love it.”

“You do?” he asked me.

“Of course I do. I’ll keep this close to me right down in the basement studio.”

“I’m glad you liked it daddy. I worked hard on trying to find the right words to write.” I smiled and ruffled his hair as I pressed my forehead to his, my nose grazing his.

“I know you did. You’re just like your father like that.”

“Well now that I see you managed to wake your father up, is it time for his breakfast in bed now?” Dominque’s voice soon spoke up.  She stood at the doorway with a tray of my favorite breakfast.

“Yes mummy bring in the breakfast. I helped cook it specially for you daddy.”

“Did you now?” I asked.  He nodded as Dominique came up to us and placed the tray of food down in front of me. It was all of my favorites, scrambled eggs, and bacon with a tall glass of orange juice.

“Mummy let me crack the eggs and even mash them up.” I took a bite of the eggs first and moaned loudly.

“Well you’re definitely hired as my new head chef Felix.” I told him.

“Hey, hey no talking with your mouth full. I swear Rog you’re always teaching him bad manners.” Dominque scolded me.

“Oh come on it’s my special day. Give me a break.”

“Fine. Come on Felix let’s leave your dad to his breakfast in bed.”

“Awww!”

“Come on you.” Dominque picked our son up and walked out but stopped and turned back towards me.

“Oh Rog I almost forgot, someone left you a present this morning on the front porch.”

“The front porch?” she nodded.

“Once you’re done with breakfast, it’s on the dining room table.” She then left the bedroom with our son leaving me to eat my breakfast alone.

After breakfast I brought the tray as well as my empty plates and cup down and right there was a small box wrapped up standing there on the table.  I put my dishes up and tucked the tray back between the fridge and the cabinets and walked into the dining room and picked up the small box.

Attached to it was a tag that had my name on it but it didn’t say who it was from.  I untied the box and opened it up and inside it was a brand new watch.  Not only that but it was the latest model, it had a nice black leather strap and the main watch itself was a nice silver color.

I looked back in the box and there I found a note tucked away inside.  I took it out of the box and I read it to myself.

Roger,

I hope you like the new watch I bought you. You’ve said you’ve been needing a new one.  On this day, I hope I can do something that I hadn’t gotten to do in years.

While you’re celebrating Father’s day with little Felix, I’ve got a special surprise for you later tonight.  Attached to the back of this letter is an address you’ll need to go to before sunset tonight. As well as a couple places I want you to go to stop at first.

Hope this Father’s day proves to be the best one you’ll have.

Your lion cub,

I smiled as I shook my head.  Oh that girl. She didn’t have to get me anything, especially with her wedding in a few weeks.  Yet she managed to take some of her own money and get me this expensive watch.

As she said on the back was an address to the main event tonight and just underneath that were two places I needed to go to later this afternoon.  One of them was a tailor shop, and the other was the name of our favorite restaurant with directions on the reservations for 3.

“That lion cub of mine.”

“What’d she send you?” Dominque soon came in.  I showed her the new watch as well as the note.  She smiled and said.

“She really does spoil you doesn’t she?”

“Well, not as much as I do her. You should’ve seen me on her first birthday with us. Even though she wasn’t our intern anymore I still wanted to make sure she had a good 19th birthday. Especially after I found out that she hadn’t had a birthday since her parents died.”

“It’s unbelievable that after going what she went through that she’s still the golden hearted woman she is. I mean she’s good with Felix as well as Chrissie’s and Ronnie’s kids. And she keeps you guys in check when on tour or at the rehearsals.” I nodded.

“I mean—there’s no way that I would have enough strength to go through all that verbal abuse, not to mention dealing with a parent’s death at that age and not come out differently. I probably would be the biggest arsehole in the world if I were in her shoes.”

“Well you’re not. So don’t go trying to start becoming one.” I saluted her and gave her a ma’am yes ma’am.

Later that day after getting a couple more gifts from Felix like some drawings and even a little acting performance of a play he wrote, it was just 20 minutes before the lunch reservations.

We all got around and I drove us downtown to the restaurant.  When we got there I told the server that there was a reservation for 3 under the name Taylor.  She looked over and soon found it and told us to follow her.  We got a special table all the way in the back where we wouldn’t be disturbed by any fans but had a nice outdoor view.

The lunch went really well and another little surprise was that when Dominique went to pay for the meal, our waiter told us that the lunch had been pre-paid.  It was then I knew that it was another (Y/n) move.

I looked down at my new watch and found that it was close to the time where I needed to head to the tailor’s shop.

“You guys go ahead and head on home, I need to make one last errand run before I need to head to my final destination.” I told Dominque.

“Do you want the car for tonight? Felix and I can take a cabbie if you do.”

“If you’re sure you want to hail one down.” She nodded and said.

“Take the car, besides who knows what traffic is like and they charge you even if you’re in a parking lot.”

“You’re going again daddy?” Felix asked me looking up at me with those puppy dog eyes of his. I knelt down to his height and said.

“I’ll just be around the town for a bit. I’ll be back later tonight, I promise.” I bopped his nose and his frown slowly turned upside down. “C’mere give me cuddles.” He came up to me and we hugged each other and I gave him a kiss on top of his head. After separating from each other, I gave Nique a peck before heading back over to the car and drove to the tailor shop.

About 10 minutes later I arrived and parked right in front of the shop.  I entered inside and standing behind the counter was a well-tailored man wearing glasses.

“Welcome to Kingsman tailor shop, how may I help you?”

“Yes I uhh—I’m here to pick up a suit. Under the name Taylor.”

“Ahh yes, the young woman called us a few weeks ago about this order. It’s all ready for you in change room 1.” I nodded in thanks and went to the left into the first changing room.

Inside I saw a well-tailored blue suit.  It was a dark blue colored which she knew I looked pretty good in.  But it got me thinking just where the hell I was going to go that I needed to wear this fancy thing? I changed from my normal clothes into the tux (hopefully to make sure the measurements were good) and when I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn’t look too bad.

At least they got the measurements correctly.  I stepped out into it and the clerk said to me.

“Looks smashing on you Mr. Taylor. She really did right by you this time.”

“Yeah. Now do I have to pay for it or—”

“The young lady who called in about it already put in the down payment for the tux. It’s all taken care of.” Thought so.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime sir, have a good rest of your day.”

“You too, take care sir.” I went back towards the car and decided that now would be the best time to go to the address that was written on the note.  Taking it out of my jean pocket, I read over the address once more and soon I was on my way back to Leicester.

Later that night I soon arrived in Leicester right at the address where I was told to go to. When I arrived I saw before me a small little cabin building with lights and decorations already set up.  I was also saw that there were crowd of people already pouring in, but what surprised me was that the crowd of people in there were father’s with their kids (ranging between 6-10).

Okay this was—a little weird.  I’m gonna look like some sort of creepy rotter for coming here and just waiting around watching all these dads dance with their kids.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.” My heart paused.  I turned around and standing there with a beautiful white dress with a red sash wrapped around the middle, and flowers decorating her hair was (Y/n). “Kinda silly I know. I look like a grownup Barbie doll dressed like this.”

“You look beautiful.” I said.  I walked up to her and lifted her chin up so that she could look into my eyes. “Like a true Princess.” She smiled then took my hand and led me away from the front of the building to the back.

Around back there was an outside dance floor and all the firelight decorations were placed all over the wooden railings decored with flowers or vines.  I could see some of the father’s with their daughters already slow dancing with each other.

“Every year my Primary school held a Father’s Day dance. It was a special something the school did to help celebrate the fathers of the kids that come into their school. I remember my dad always taking the time out of work to come with me to these dances, helping me get ready, dolling me up in a pretty dress, dancing with me till the moon came up. After the car crash I—” she stopped and looked down sadly.

My brows furrowed in concern as I hugged (Y/n) close to me and just silently held her.  I gently squeezed her comfortingly as she softly sniffled and let out the tears.  God I can’t imagine what this day meant for her after her father died.

At her age, she must’ve thought even though she lost her father maybe her uncle could be the positive male figure in her life.  Only to find out he’s a rancid old arse who belittled her for everything she did, criticizing her whenever she didn’t succeed (even when she did. Just not to his standards). All the while still grieving over the lost of the only man who ever gave her love and affection.

Seeing and hearing everyone talk about how their father’s were involved with their lives, or how much their dad loved them, it must’ve been Hell for her.

“I’m here lovie. I’m right here. Let it all out.” She sniffled and patted my arm assuringly.

“I just wanna thank you, Roger Meddows Taylor. For being the father figure I needed in my life. Now more than ever.” I released her from my hug and held her face in my hands, gently wiping away her tears.

“Of course love. I’m always gonna be there for you, no matter what. You may not be my child by blood, but I truly have come to see you as my own daughter. From the day you first gave me that 1 and 3/7th sugars.” We both laughed softly.

“I still can’t believe that that’s just a joke you always do to the new interns.” My grin grew wider as I continued to laugh softly.

“But it just showed me you were truly a caring person.” I placed my hand against her cheek and she closed her eyes as she nuzzled against it.  Her eyes, which were still slightly teary, glistened underneath the full moon and the stars.

“I—know we’ve got our Father-daughter dance for my wedding in just a few weeks. But, could you—join me for this Father’s day dance?” I gently smiled at her and got down on one knee.  I held her hand in mine and looked right up at her as I answered.

“It would be my honor.” She smiled happily as I stood up and brought her close.  We could hear the music from where we stood and as a slow ballad song began playing, I brought my baby girl close to me and the two of us gently swayed together.

The two of us danced underneath the moonlight and if someone were to see it, it’d be like seeing two silhouettes dancing in perfect harmony of each other.  Whenever I would give her a gentle twirl, her dress would flow just like waves on the beach.  

But what I enjoyed most was having her pressed close to me so that her head would rest on either my shoulder or chest, and I could press my nose to the crown of her head. This kind of intimacy was something I would never have with any other girl.

(Y/n) (l/n), soon to be (Y/n) Kline, was my daughter.  No matter what anyone says.  I view her as my daughter, and that’s how it shall always be.

After the dance, the two of us took a midnight walk along the open fields of where the cabin club was.  There was a large field of flowers along the rolling hills and there she had a small little picnic set up.  Mostly with sandwiches and a bottle of wine.

Together we snacked on the sandwiches but mostly we drank the wine.  When the bottle was nearly empty the two of us cuddled up close together along the hill, my jacket covering her up as she lay her head right over my heart.  She had passed out just a few minutes ago and I stared down at her.

As gently as I could, I took the flowery headband off her head and gently stroked through her soft hair.  I pressed a kiss to the crown of her head as I turned back up towards the sky.  The stars sparkling down at us like billions of little spotlights.

But one star in particular shined bigger and brighter than the rest.  I smiled tiredly up at it and softly said.

“You’re welcome (F/n).” I lay my head right up against hers before falling fast asleep from the wine. All the while never once letting go of my little girl.

Yeah, she was definitely right.  This would forever be the best Father’s day I would ever know.

[hvbris]

Zombie AU for Chrissy when????

[tabloidtoc]

Us, May 18

Cover: Brad Pitt at 56 -- new love, new life -- in lockdown with Alia Shawkat 

Page 1: First Look -- Olivia Wilde goes for a walk in L.A. 

Page 2: Red Carpet -- Skai Jackson 

Page 6: Loose Talk -- Jimmy Kimmel on daughter Jane doing his makeup, Tiffany Haddish on taking her Zoom meeting to the bathroom, Jodie Turner-Smith joking about being a new mom, Kourtney Kardashian responding to a TikTok video of Kylie Jenner impersonating multiple scenes of hers from KUWTK 

Page 8: Contents 

Page 10: Hot Pics -- Princess Charlotte turns 5

Page 11: Katy Perry and Orlando Bloom rock matching hoodies paying homage to Dr. Anthony Fauci, Victoria Justice gets slimed on Nickelodeon’s virtual Kids’ Choice Awards 

Page 12: Khloe Kardashian and daughter True, Jesse Metcalfe and Cara Santana 

Page 14: Mommy Dearest -- Guess Which Kids Belong to These Hollywood Stars -- Julianne Moore, Reese Witherspoon, Thandie Newton, Kate Hudson, Chrissy Teigen, Uma Thurman 

Page 16: Habits Dye Hard -- rainbow hair is the mane attraction right now -- Taraji P. Henson in red, Dua Lipa is orange, Bella Thorne is green, Sarah Michelle Gellar is pink, Georgia May Jagger in two shades of blue, Lauren Alaina is blue 

Page 18: Chill Out -- Hollywood hunks take time to pamper -- KJ Apa, EJ Johnson, Stephen Colbert, Kristen Bell and Dax Shepard 

Page 19: Jared Leto, Anwar Hadid and Dua Lipa, Antoni Porowski 

Page 20: Busy Philipps is all dressed up with nowhere to go 

Page 22: Stars They’re Just Like Us -- Adam Sandler rides a bike, Danneel Ackles cleans up, Heidi Montag works out 

Page 23: Amy Schumer and Chris Fischer cook, Joe Keery goes on a juice run, Bella Hadid and mom Yolanda Hadid garden 

Page 26: Kids They’re Just Like Us -- Jessica Simpson’s daughter Birdie is a snacker, Matthew McConaughey and Camila Alves’ son Livingston does laundry, Jessie James Decker’s daughter Vivianne pampers herself 

Page 28: Hollywood Moms -- Jewel on her son Kase 

Page 29: Haylie Duff on kids Ryan and Lulu during quarantine, Tia Mowry’s daughter Cairo inherited mom’s acting genes 

Page 30: Love Lives -- Rob Gronkowski of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and girlfriend Camille Kostek making moves in lockdown 

Page 31: Stassi Schroeder’s bride demon has been slayed by the pandemic, Taylor Swift and Joe Alwyn still going strong in lockdown and may be engaged soon, Eve doesn’t take husband Maximillion Cooper for granted especially now 

Page 32: Hot Hollywood -- Lori Loughlin might get off easy for her role in Operation Varsity Blues 

Page 33: Kristin Cavallari and Jay Cutler’s separation has gone from sad to downright nasty, Baby Update -- Anderson Cooper is a dad to Wyatt Morgan, Ashlee Simpson and Evan Ross are expecting, Zayn Malik and Gigi Hadid are expecting a baby girl 

Page 34: A Day in the Life At-Home Edition -- Molly Sims 

Page 35: Don’t Worry, Be Happy -- these stars give us a reason to smile during these trying times -- Her Campus is holding an I’m Still Graduating event featuring commencement speeches by stars like Eva Longoria, Tom Sandoval and Tom Schwartz of TomTom bar have raised more than $50,000 for their employees, Queen + Adam Lambert released a new rerecorded version of We Are the Champions with all proceeds going to the World Health Organization, Kansas City Chief Laurent Duvernay-Tardif has a doctorate in medicine and is volunteering at a long-term care facility in Quebec, Machine Gun Kelly supported local businesses by providing lunch at 12 restaurants in his native Cleveland 

Page 36: Cover Story -- Brad Pitt’s new lease on life -- he’s happier than he’s been in a long time and he has actress Alia Shawkat to thank 

Page 40: Tampa Bay Buccaneers QB Tom Brady and Gisele Bundchen -- the secret to their marriage 

Page 42: It Takes a Village -- get to know the glam squads that keep Hollywood’s most fabulous looking so good -- Cardi B, Jennifer Aniston 

Page 43: Kim Kardashian West, Lupita Nyong’o, Mariah Carey 

Page 44: Hollywood to the Rescue -- A-listers inspire us to turn to shelters to find furry friends -- Please Adopt, Don’t Shop -- Ian Somerhalder, Hilary Duff 

Page 45: Taylor Swift, Chelsea Handler, Gabby Douglas, Colton Underwood 

Page 48: Style -- Winning Sets -- Alessandra Ambrosio 

Page 52: Hilarie’s Happy Place -- actress Hilarie Burton opens up about her new memoir, life on the farm and finding her person in Jeffrey Dean Morgan 

Page 54: Take Five with Catherine Reitman 

Page 58: Fashion Police -- Fringe Edition -- Heidi Klum, Cara Delevingne, Rosalia 

Page 59: Dascha Polanco, Tinashe, Hunter Schafer 

Page 60: 25 Things You Don’t Know About Me -- Brie Bella 

[lilbitoshortstuff]

I Know Germs Aren’t Immortal Part 2

It was the trumpets in the bars that seemed to make Chrissy glow, watching her get excited was what I longed for more than anything at that time because at that time I didn't have the issues I have now.

I heard the sounds of An Old Fashioned Romance in a bar to the right and dragged her in, she loved to dance, and I loved to dance with her. 

She didn't struggle, instead, she laughed, delighted, chimes on the breeze. The bar was packed outside and I could hear voices from everywhere at once, we pushed through the people, ignoring the hee haws of people in the midst of conversation being broken up by two lovers wanting to dance. It smelled of tobacco, not like the cigarette smoke of today but of good old fashioned tobacco, sweet and musky, with an undertone of scotch. I didn't care to drink, I just wanted to swing Chrissy around the dance floor and watch her face turn red from excitement.

We danced for what seemed like an eternity, twirling in slow motion, the sun started to come out before we were even remotely finished, but eventually, they kicked everyone out and we, jelly legged, spilled into the street and stumbled to the edge of the great Mississippi River, where we sat and watched the sun finish rising. The ground smelled like fresh grass, I laid down in it and we fell fast asleep. I remembered how devastated I was when I found out she had died a couple of months later to Spanish Flu.

Bing-bong! My doorbell knocked me out of my musings and reminiscing, I winced momentarily, I didn't need to check the time I knew Nancy had arrived. I chide myself, I keep forgetting to uninstall the doorbell, or at least change the tone, it's jarring and startling, and no matter how many times I tell Nancy to just knock she always uses it, wanting to make sure I know she's there.

"Hey, I'm not late am I?" She wasn't but she always asked.

"Nope, right on time." I smiled at her, Annie hadn't come with her, I noticed as Nancy shifted anxiously waiting for me to move out of the doorway so she could enter. I thanked her in my mind for always remembering to put on gloves before coming into the house and removing her shoes, she always wore tennis shoes because she was worried about the state of her posture. Her chiropractor told her once, many years ago, that if she didn't take care and pay attention to what shoes she wore she would end up with a humpback, so now she only wore shoes specifically made by foot doctors. It didn't matter that the chances of her death were most assuredly non-existent, because Nancy was convinced that at some point we would die, even though we had already lived this long.

Nancy, like me, didn't touch alcohol but brought something to drink anyway. Orange juice and sparkling cider. Her own virgin style of mimosas, they were absolutely delightful. She told me once in one of her past lives that she used to be a bartender in a dive bar, this is what fueled her decision to never drink. I never pressed her about it further, I could see the anxiety in her eyes when she first told me about it. She has a habit of picking at her hands and pressing the corners of her nails into her skin when she gets anxious, she did that now.

Before I could ask about Annie she went ahead and told me. 

"Annie's running a bit late, the meeting she was in took longer than expected. She called me while she was driving, I had to pull over and park to talk to her because I was on my way here, she almost made ME late! I've told her so many times not to talk on the phone and drive, it's dangerous, but does she listen to me? No! Have you ever been in a car with her?" I hadn't, and Nancy knew that, but I let her continue her tirade, "I don't understand how she hasn't been in an accident yet, she could be seriously hurt!" She huffed and looked at me, I smiled and the anger in her face disappeared. "I'm sorry, how are you?"

"I'm okay," I said calmly and added, "Annie is always running late, Nancy, you should realize this by now." I winked at her to let her know I wasn't picking on her or her anxiety.

She sighed and I watched as she sank into a chair, "I know," defeated, she dropped the subject, "these sandwiches look lovely, though, you always make such a presentation with your food, you know we don't need that."

"I don't mind, I enjoy it." I heard a rapping at the door. Annie, only a couple minutes late. I could hear her voice on the other side of the door, talking on her phone.

As I opened the door I heard her saying, "okay, okay all right, yes, you know what just go ahead and sign off for me, I was going to anyway, and don't forget the dry cleaning, okay, right, oh, hey I have to go, thanks I appreciate you, email the rest to me."

She put her phone into sleep mode and slipped it into her pocket. I'm not sure if she knocks because I asked her to or if she just forgets there's a doorbell, either way, I appreciate it.

"Hi, Mike." She said with that half-smile that I see on TV when she's making a speech. 

Annie and Nancy are polar opposites, physically and mentally. Annie is small, shorter than me, roughly 5'2 but you wouldn't guess that when you see her speaking, Nancy, on the other hand, stands almost 6'. Annie's hair is long and dark, Nancy's is short and greying, and where Nancy is over-anxious, Annie's main issue is she's ambitious. She's been single since I've known her, on her own accord, she wants to be on the top and that means more to her than everything else.

Her suit is pressed and creased, her teeth are perfect, you can tell she has makeup on but not enough to be too much, just like her perfume, which I could smell as she breezed by me in her grey pumps which clicked with each step on my hardwood floors, lilac. She always wore lilac. I asked her about it once, I never got an answer beyond a smirk, one that tells you that she knows something you don't. She took over everything once she walked in the door of any establishment or party, politics was definitely her calling. She made her way into the kitchen, made herself comfortable at the table and greeted Nancy, I noticed her hand reach into her pocket where her phone was, I could tell she was fighting the urge to use it.

"Hiya, Nance."

"Please don't call me that, Annie, you know I don't like it." 

Annie looked out the window and gave that knowing smirk to no one in particular. She enjoyed annoying Nancy, like an older sister.

Once everyone looked relatively situated at the table I said, "Well, everyone is here, let's get our hands washed," I heard Annie let out a quiet groan, "and I'll get your plates ready by the time you're done. Then we can dig in!" I smiled pointedly at Annie as she got up and headed for the bathroom, Nancy went to the sink. I changed my gloves and started filling plates, Nancy made her virgin mimosas, humming to herself, she always hummed that song when she worked, and I thought back to when I first met Nancy and Annie.

[dustedmagazine]

KAPUTT — Carnage Hall (Upset the Rhythm)

KAPUTT shouts and squawks and clatters, its antic post-punk energy so jovially unhinged, so falling-down-the-stairs chaotic, that you might suspect a bit of disorganization. That suspicion goes out the window, though, early on, when the six-piece demonstrates the ability to stop on a dime in the opener “Rats.” There’s a millisecond of dead silence, both stinging guitars, one lumbering bass, a clap-trap contraption of kit and auxiliary percussion and a wandering no wave saxophone all shocked to non-existence for a flash, before careening on heedlessly.  

This is a rather large ensemble, whose members met, apparently, while pulling lattes at the same coffee bar. It formed around the two guitarists (who also sing) — Simone Wilson and Cal Donnelly— added a stuttering, blurting bassist in Tobias Carmichael, picked up a saxophonist in Chrissy Barnacle and filled out a drum line with Rikki Will and Emma Smith playing regular kit and an cowbell improvised out of a tin can, respectively. It all happened in a couple of years, and if you watch early live videos like this one, from 2017, the sound has tightened up considerably in the interim.

Donnelly is the band’s wired, declamatory main vocalist, not singing so much as barking into the mic, every phrase ending in an audible exclamation point, with odd breaks and pauses to let in singed scraps of guitar, bass and drums. Sometimes, the band’s female members sing counterpoint in a considerably sweeter, more melodic way, and Barnacle’s sax plays in a fluid, legato tunefulness. Still, the primary tenor of this band is short, sharp and electroshocked blips and blurts, flying around surreal, not-quite-reality-grounded stories.

“Carnage Hall,” for instance, reimagines Judy Garland’s triumphant 1961 return to Carnegie Hall, a concert which broke, at least temporarily, her long spiral into depression and drug addiction: a recording of these two nights is now considered one of the best live recordings ever. Donnelly imagines the show as an abject failure, where no one comes. It is not Carnegie Hall but “Car! Nage! Hall!” The band scrambles up and down stair-climbing riffs, making quick ascents and descents along the notes of the scale. There’s an antic, anxious air to the piece, but it is full of undeniable fizz, like a party conversation where people are talking too loud and too fast and laughing at everything. Towards the middle, a woozy elongated jazz-y section intervenes, heavy on the sax, full of disorienting late-night atmospherics. But then it’s back to the post-punk rampage, Donnelly shouting, “Builders are not working/ticket sales low/revolving door broken/the dance floor must go” in his italicized way. It’s a song of various tempos and energies, which cranks up and cranks down like a wind up toy.

There are, of course, lots of bands pursuing this terse, pogo-stick aesthetic in various ways, but KAPUTT is among the most abrupt and violent, yet also humorous, of the bunch. Compare them, for instance, to their labelmates in Trash Kit, and the latter sounds warm, fluid and nearly languorous. Put them beside Omni and the Atlanta band turns into softer and more melodic, closer to Orange Juice than Fire Engines. The oddity and discontinuity of this band is fetching, plus it’s hard to imagine any of the other jittery, guitar-slashing outfits coming up with a song called “You Are Buried with My Nose” (though really if you transcribe it would go “You! Are Buried! With! My Nose!”). The song, if you were wondering, commemorates the funeral of one of Donnelly’s elderly relatives who shared the family schnozz.

What makes KAPUTT so exciting is its elasticized unpredictability, the sense that these taut, punched-out firestorms could head in any direction. Anarchy has rarely been so tightly coordinated, nor order so slapped bloody and sore as on this debut.

Jennifer Kelly

[jonguntitled-blog]

Sooji - The End pt 1

May 5, 2020

Sooji sat back in her rather large and oversized leather desk chair, lounging with her feet up on the overpriced mahogany desk her father had paid for. Her new office was nice and spacious and it overlooked Central Park and she could see New York City and all it’s glory from the large floor to ceiling windows but it all seemed so dull to her. Or maybe it just felt impersonal, professional, boring, just not her.

With a rather exaggerated sigh she clicked her pen on the desk, one of those cheap pens that have the button you press when you want the tip to come out and you press again when you’re done using it. ‘What do they call them? Ah, right. Retractable’, Sooji thought to herself. She often used fountain pens in the presence of her clients to seem more “professional” but when she was working on her own her usual bic ballpoint pens were her go-to.

What the fuck had her life become that she was sitting in a stuffy overpriced suite at 5pm on a Friday thinking about a fucking pen? She scoffed at where she was now and how she got here, but it was all for her father. He was happy, so she should be happy right? This is what he wanted for her after all.

She finally stopped lounging and leaned forward with her legs underneath the desk now and her elbows on it’s surface, resting her face in her hands. She just wanted it to be 6 already so she had an excuse to go home. She could leave whenever she wanted, technically. She was, after all, the fucking boss. But she liked to stay and wait for Chrissy - her secretary, and her sometimes maybe on and off again lover. Chrissy was a fleeting one night stand that had turned into a reliable job candidate and eventually an outstanding secretary, especially for Sooji. It also didn’t hurt that she really was a riot to go out with after a long and boring day at the office. Chrissy always knew the best and quietest places to grab a drink and just relax and let loose. She also had a knack for listening; Sooji could almost call her a best friend, almost.

Thinking of Chrissy made Sooji smile a bit, maybe she’d ask her over tonight, it was Friday after all and they didn’t need to come into the office super early tomorrow, just for a Skype meeting with her father later in the day. Sooji thought back to the week long bender they had once, back when they first met. When Chrissy woke up every morning at 6 am to make Sooji her classic chocolate chip pancakes and fresh squeezed orange juice, and then as they ate breakfast in their underwear, they’d laugh and giggle at children’s shows from their childhood on Netflix, preparing for their day as adults at this same stupid, stuffy office.

It was the ringing of Sooji’s phone that broke her nostalgia as she looked down and saw the receiver light up, of course it was Chrissy, she was the only one who called this phone after all, to ring in others who had called her. Sooji picked up after a second ring to make sure it wasn’t an accident and pulled the phone to her ear rather than put it on speaker and suffer the annoying echo the office provided when it was empty like this.

“There’s someone here, Madam.”

“Who is it?”

Chrissy shrugged lightly but realized her unprofessionalism in front of this visitor and then felt her cheeks flush before clearing her throat, also realizing Sooji couldn’t even see her, “Um…he says his name is Mr. Park.”

Sooji sighed, she knew so many ‘Mr. Park’s it wasn’t even funny anymore, “He’ll have to do better than that.”

Sooji could hear Chrissy shuffle around the phone on the other side, placing her hand over the receiver lightly, but Sooji could still hear the faint sounds of their voices. She heard an all too familiar male voice responding to her secretary and that’s when she felt her heart sink into her stomach.

Chrissy returned to the phone, “He says he’s an old friend, his name is J-”

“Send him in.” Sooji cut her off, knowing exactly who it was.

[hvbris]

Another sad HC while I’m at it: Chrissy was a cute chubby baby, but since her mother had always dreamt of Chrissy doing kids pageants, she controlled Chrissy’s food as soon as she could.