#friendship hurt comfort

[imfinereallyy]

Steve Harrington hadn’t talked to his dad in a year.

The last thing the two of them had talked had been after the earthquakes, across the room in the den; his dad barely stepped through the front entryway, and Steve’s back pressed against the back door. The house was messy but still standing, unlike Steve, who was broken and barely keeping himself upright. The only thing Richard Harrington had said to Steve was,

“I think it’s time to move on.” Which was his way of telling Steve they were selling the house and he should figure out his own arrangements. Steve hadn’t cared, though. Didn’t even look at him as he spoke. Instead, he stared at the cracks in the ceiling and wondered if it was some kind of metaphor.

He tried not to think too deeply about it.

It had been a year since then. There had been time to move on, as his dad said. There was no more Upside Down. There was no more worrying about the next move. Max and Eddie were healed. Everyone was back in Hawkins. Robin and Steve lived in a little house on Fifth while Robin took community courses. Eddie practically lived there, too, with the strange friendship bond that had grown between the three of them.

Eddie had argued once it was because their couch was comfier than his bed, but Steve liked to think it was because Eddie wanted to be close to them. To be close to him. Sometimes Steve thought about letting him stay in his bed together.

Time had not moved to that yet.

Everything seemed good. Despite Steve’s resentment towards Richard, and his reluctance to admit the man was right, sometimes it was good to let things go, break apart and move on. Though Steve was sure, this wasn’t exactly what Harrington Sr. meant.

Steve hadn’t talked to his father in over a year. And he didn’t really miss him. Sure, there were moments that passed when Steve would yearn for the small happy moments between them. Secret smiles at baseball games, lunch at his office, and him cheering Steve on at the one swim championship he managed to show up to.

But it always got mixed in with bigger, badder moments. Being left alone for months on end. The belittling. The missed graduation. The yelling. The slurs when he grew his hair out too long. The cold way he said to Steve,

“I think it’s time to move on.”

Like he had been breaking up with a high school sweetheart before leaving for college.

So Steve didn’t miss the man, not really. But in moments like these, in the back of the Byers-Hopper’s backyard at the Father’s Day BBQ, where all party members and parents alike gathered, Steve couldn’t help but ache.

Steve ached for something better than Richard Harrington.

It wasn’t because of parents who stuck around that made Steve’s stomach churn in jealousy, but the ones who decided to show up. It was the way Wayne threw his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and the cheers their beers to something probably ridiculous. The way Steve knew that man would crawl to the ends of the earth for someone who wasn’t technically his, but was nothing short of a son.

It was the way El and Hop manned the grill together. Him laughing at something El said, probably something ridiculous, and her smile back that could light up the sun. The way Steve knew that El wasn’t a replacement for the things Hop had lost, but instead an addition to his life he would choose over and over again.

Steve ached to be loved and care for because someone wanted to. Not because of obligation or by accident. Steve wanted to loved deliberately.

Steve sipped his beer instead of bringing down the celebration with his thoughts. Eddie caught Steve’s eye across the yard and gave him a megawatt smile. Steve couldn’t help but smile shyly back.

“Hey, Steve.” A shy voice said beside him, startling him out of his thoughts. Steve turned to find Dustin standing beside him, nearly up to his nose now with his recent growth spurt. Steve couldn’t help but miss when he was small and could throw him over his shoulder.

Steve was a little surprised to find him there. Dustin wasn’t one to speak small or shy. He liked to make his presence known (much like the lovable metal head he was staring down earlier).

“Hey bud, what’s up?”

Dustin looked around the two of them before answering. Everyone else was with their dads, or talking to one of the party members. Even Robin managed to wrangle her dad and Mr. Sinclair into a conversation about WWII. Dustin looked a little relieved everyone was doing their own thing.

“Okay so you know how like, everyone is celebrating their dad today? And mine isn’t here?”

Steve felt his stomach drop. Somehow in the midst of his self-pitying, he had forgotten that Dustin’s dad wasn’t around either. Didn’t even stick around long enough for his first words. “Yea, dude, I’m sorry this must suck for you.”

Dustin looked nervous. He shifted on his feet back and forth, as if he was trying to find a rhythm to calm himself down. “Yea, so that’s what I actually came over to talk to you about.”

“Yea, Dustin. Im here if you need to talk.”

Dustin seemed to finally be at ease and rolled his eyes at Steve. “No, asshole, I don’t need to talk. I haven’t thought about the dick in years, if I’m honest. I just, it’s something else. And you don’t get to be weird about it.”

“I’m confused.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Hey!” Steve laughed despite his protest. A year ago, stuff like that hurt Steve’s feelings. But now Steve knew it was all in good fun, that Dustin was kind of dick to everyone. And he knew that the joke wasn’t about his intelligence. It hadn’t been a long time, since Steve threatened to push him out of a moving vehicle last time. Steve was pretty sure it had to do with a particular conversation involving his feelings for more than women.

Only Dustin and Robin knew. She was overly supportive, and Dustin instantly made a joke. Both made Steve supported and safe.

The dumbasses.

“Not my fault this happens to you often.”

“Is there a point being made or are you here to just be a dick?” Steve questioned, laughing behind the lip of his beer.

Dustin fidgeted again before pulling something out his back pocket. “Just—promise not to laugh.”

Steve crossed his heart with a giggle before he took a folded white piece of paper out of Dustin’s hands.

Suddenly, Steve’s face got serious as he saw what was on the front.

A poorly drawn Steve with a nail baseball bat, with the title “Happy Father’s Day”.

Steve swallowed thickly before placing his beer on the ground and opening the card. There in Dustin’s chicken scratch, was a message.

Dear Steve,

Don’t be weird about this. Okay here it goes.

My dad wasn’t around a lot, big whoop. Big surprise. I honestly don’t care anymore. Don’t give me a look.

I honestly didn’t think I would really care about any of the dad stuff, didn’t feel like I was really missing out. My mom and her annoying love for cats has always been more than enough. But as time went by sometimes I thought maybe I would be better, I would be different if I had a dad. I see it with the rest of the party, how willingly or unwillingly they all reflect their dads. And how I don’t.

Sometimes I don’t feel like my whole self because if it. Thought maybe I would never really be a whole me because of it. That maybe the world was better off anyway because I know I am a lot.

But then I met you asshole.

I didn’t think I would like you, and more importantly I didn’t think you would like me. But suddenly we are battling worlds together, and you’re hanging out with me even outside the end of days, and I have a new best friend.

If I’m being honest I do see you more as a brother. Someone I look up to. But the more I think about it (again don’t be weird), I do see you as a dad some days. Although the hands on hips do scream mother hen, you’ve been a dad to me in the ways the asswipe who made someone as amazing as me hasn’t been.

You are brave, and funny and despite popular belief you are kind. One of the kindest people I know. You make me feel safe and loved, and give me rides despite me never giving you gas money. Some days I look in the mirror and see parts of you in me, and I feel proud.

Some days I look at you and hope that I can see the braveness and kindness in myself too. I don’t yet, but you make it feel possible.

I don’t need a sperm donor (thank you Robin for that one), I have the world’s okayest dad right here.

Love you brother, friend, dad.

Happy Father’s Day, from your fellow nerd,

Dustin <3

Steve was crying. He knew that. He knew he promised not to make it weird, but Steve couldn’t help it. The little shit got him right in the heart.

He couldn’t be blamed for scooping up Dustin in a hug. “I love you too, Dusty Buns.”

Dustin squeezed Steve tight, “You don’t get to call me that.” He grumbled, but Steve could feel his tshirt getting wet.

“As your father it is my right to get to call you embarrassing nick names.” Steve squeezed Dustin even tighter.

Dustin just laughed and pushed him away jokingly. They both wiped their eyes, but the smiles on their faces remained.

Steve thought about Richard at that moment again, about how he ached for someone to care. And maybe Steve would never get it, but he could be that someone for someone else. He could give that care, Dustin.

The little shit.

“Thank you Dustin.”

Dustin shook his head, his crooked smile remained. “Nah man, thank you.”

They both just stared at each other in comfortable silence before they were interrupted by a barking force.

“What are you two saps talking about?” Eddie slung his arms around the both of them, mouth spread wide in a grin. But then he noticed the tear tracks, and suddenly his face dropped.

Eddie took Steve’s face in his hands, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Steve shook his head fondly, “Nothing—“ He started, preparing to wave it off. But then Steve realized he couldn’t lie to Eddie. “—nothing bad. Happy tears. I promise.”

Eddie looked at Steve for a moment before nodding, giving his face a tight squeeze, and then dropping his hands. “Okay, Stevie, as long as their happy tears.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Dusting grumbled.

“Aweee Dusty, I could never forget you!!” Eddie threw himself at Dustin in a horrible attempt at a hug.

Dustin just pushed him off before rolling his eyes. Steve swore they were gonna get stuck one day.

“Whatever, man. Just make sure that you treat my dad right, or I’m going to have to make some tough calls.” Dustin stared down Eddie seriously before laughing evilly and walking away.

Steve wanted to freeze at Dustin’s implication, but Eddie looked adorably confused, so Steve didn’t feel too bad.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Is this new? Him just getting protective about this without explaining?” Eddie asked Steve.

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve looked down at the card again wistfully, before glancing back up at Eddie. Steve took one of Eddie’s hands and started to play with his rings. A blush bloomed across Eddie’s cheeks; Steve wanted to kiss him. Instead, he just said,

“Just think he’s trying to be a little like his dad.”

***

Dad’s are complicated, and family isn’t always blood. I hope you enjoyed my little Father’s Day contribution. I do headcannon Hopper as Steve’s father figure/replacement, and usually write it that way but this seemed like a fun opportunity to show how Steve is his own father figure for others.

He is a good egg.

Now with Father’s Day over, my birthday is in two weeks which is making me feel all sorts of things. So I’m distracting myself with steddie. Either way expect a lot of writing and updates soon.

[stealingyourbones]

Quick question, has anyone written a fic about Youngblood getting sad and emotional about Danny turning 18 where he’ll never see him again? If not I truly think that would be a wonderful little storyline to explore

[xoxoladyaz]

It Hits Different This Time

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

“Steve.” 

He hears Robin knocking on the door, her knuckles tapping firmly against the wood.

“STEVE.”

He’s lying on the bed in Robin’s guest bedroom, limbs starfished across the plush gray comforter, staring at the ceiling fan. Taylor Swift is singing to him, blasting from the Alexa speaker next to him.

Oh my, love is a lie, shit my friends say to get me by 

“Alexa, volume up.”

“Steve – STEVE!”

It hits different, it hits different this time

“Alexa, off,” Robin says as she marches into the room. Taylor’s voice cuts off almost immediately and Steve huffs, frustrated.

“Steve, as much as I love listening to your ‘Sad Taylor Swift’ playlist, you need to eat something. Go for a walk. Take a shower.”

“I’d rather not.”

Sighing, Robin kicks his left leg until he’s made enough room for her to collapse down beside him and gaze up at the spinning fan. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

They lay in silence.

“It’s just – our three-year anniversary, Robin.”

“I know.”

“He didn’t even text me.”

“I know.”

“And the supermodels at the club! And the tweets!”

“I know, Steve.”

There’s moisture pricking at the inside of his eyes now. “I just – it’s dumb, okay? I thought we could make this work. But I guess I’m not as important to him as he is to me.”

“Dingus,” Robin chides, and he turns his face away so she can’t see that he’s actually crying now. (She still probably knows that he is; Robin always knows. He just doesn’t want anyone to see.) “Okay, is Eddie Munson a huge idiot? Yes, and he has been for as long as we’ve known him. Is he kind of an asshole now that he’s famous? Yes. Do I think this is the end? Not necessarily.”

Steve snorts. “It’s been four days, Robin. Nothing for four days. I think it’s already ended.”

Robin cuddles up to his side so now they’re legitimately snuggling together. “Look, all I’m saying is he’s going to be back in the state in a few days and I think you owe it yourself to at least have a conversation with him. Either you two decide to work things out and start communicating better or you decide that he’s not pulling his weight to make his relationship work and you get closure. Either way, I think you need to talk to him.”

“Yeah,” Steve sniffles. “You’re probably right.”

“Steven, I’m always right.”

“I’m sorry, do you want to talk about the Pixar question you fumbled on trivia night?”

“Dingus, I swear to god if you don’t let it go - ”

/////

Eddie’s groggy and nauseous and fuck the sun is too bright. He pulls at the window-shades as he stumbles into their kitchen, dropping his Louis Vuitton bag on the floor. The fact that he’s managing to walk while coming down from a five day bender that he barely fucking remembers is kind of a miracle. 

“Steve! Stevie, baby, I’m home!”

Silence.

What day is it today, Saturday? He’s probably at the farmer’s market with Robin. Eddie’s a few days early anyways, wanted it to be a surprise. And honestly, it’s probably a good thing Steve’s not home, Eddie needs to keep sobering up.

He pulls a fresh bottle of water out of the fridge and collapses onto the restored dining-room chairs they bought a few months ago. He tips it back and drinks it down greedily, swallowing the cool water down his aching throat. “Oh, that’s good,” he moans to himself, dropping the now empty bottle onto the dining room table.

The empty bottle that clangs against something. Squinting, Eddie opens his eyes and looks down.

There’s a small box sitting at his spot, a card laying haphazardly onto the side. It looks like someone opened it and scribbled all over what they originally wrote.

Eddie frowns and grabs for the card. It’s Steve’s writing. Whatever he’s crossed out is unreadable. Instead, all there is is the following:

I would say Happy Anniversary, but judging by the fact that (1) you didn’t return my call or even text me back and (2) the paps caught you at the club with the guys and a bunch of supermodels instead, I’m going to assume that you’re not interested in celebrating it anymore.

Eddie feels his stomach sink so fast that he’s going to lose all the water he just drank. 

Look, Eds, I am so proud of you for making your dream come true. I would never ask you to give that up or sacrifice your music for me. But I’m tired of feeling alone in this relationship. Of feeling like you don’t love me as much as I love you. Because I would do anything for you, but I think this all proves that you wouldn’t do the same for me.

Anyways, I still want you to have your gift. It wouldn’t make sense to give it to anyone else. 

Your biggest fan, Steve

He can’t see straight and it’s not because of the drugs. He can’t breathe and it’s not because of his asthma or his wicked smoking habit. 

He grabs the small box, flips it open, and chokes back a sob.

It’s a perfect replica of Aragorn’s ring, the ring he’s given that proves he is Isilduir’s heir. He’s wanted it foryears, but it was never something that he thought he could buy for himself. Sure, he could buy whatever random luxury shit without a sweat, but something so meaningful to him? Because reading The Lord of the Rings saved his fucking life in high school? His brain couldn’t deal with him buying it for himself. His therapist says it’s one of his many hang-ups regarding money and fame and his self-esteem issues, but that’s not what matters right now.

What matters is that Steve gave this to him, loved him enough to have it made for him.

And now Steve is gone.

Eddie grabs for his phone with shaking hands and checks the date.

“Fuck.”

Five days. 

He’s five days too fucking late.

He’s dialing Jeff before he can even realize he’s doing it.

“Dude, I really don’t want to be talking to you right now.”

“Jeff,” Eddie barely gets out, his voice choking on a sob. “Steve is gone.”

Jeff’s silent for a moment. 

“I’m on my way.”

[bl00dfroma-fairy]

[wangxianficrecs]

patching the road with vague intentions

patching the road with vague intentions

by loosingletters (@loosingmoreletters)

T, WIP, 39k, Wangxian

Summary: “What have you done!?” thundered a voice Wei Wuxian had, frankly speaking, never wanted to hear again. “Old man Lan?” Wei Wuxian blurted out, staring at the aged face of his former teacher. At the back of his mind, Wei Wuxian remembered the cut of his robes, that he wasn’t dressed like a widow at all, but like a Lan. Lan Qiren looked around, his gaze stuck somewhere above Wei Wuxian’s head, most likely the half-ruined summoning array behind him – fucking stupid, Wei Wuxian should’ve gotten rid of it immediately. Just why did it have to be a Lan summoning him, why Lan Qiren his visitor at the door? Wasn’t death enough punishment? “Wei Wuxian?” Lan Qiren asked wearily. Or, Wei Wuxian is summoned back to life in the Cloud Recesses. Unfortunately, the person to find him is Lan Qiren, forcing the unlikely duo to work together to keep the circumstances Wei Wuxian's return undiscovered. Kay's comments: Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren go on a friendship-roadtrip - the story. I must admit that I'm always a bit hesitant when it comes to good uncle Lan Qiren stories, but so far, this one doesn't disappoint! It's not being too easy on him and it'll certainly take a lot of work (and a very long roadtrip) for him and Wei Wuxian to become friends, but it feels natural in this story. Here, Wei Wuxian gets summoned back earlier and in the body of Lan Wangji's wife. So far, there haven't been any gender-feelings on Wei Wuxian's front apart from him thinking how nice it would be to have a family with Lan Wangji hehe. Excerpt: But the letter was just that, a letter and nothing else. Wei Wuxian was stunned from the first line on. This had to be a joke, right? Wei Wuxian remembered Lan Zhan and Lan Qiren’s handwriting, and it certainly wasn’t theirs, but he doubted any Lan would dare indulge in such a horrible lying scheme. “You’re joking, aren’t you?” Wei Wuxian asked regardless and to his immense horror, Lan Qiren’s expression only tightened and not in the oh-no-I’ve-been-caught way, but the how-dare-you-suggest-this way. “Wang Chunhua is Lan Zhan’s wife?” Wei Wuxian stared down at his hands before catching sight of the bronze mirror again. This was the woman Lan Zhan had married? Wei Wuxian supposed she was pretty enough, with her round face and big eyes. Had the old fuddy-duddy fallen in love after all? Wei Wuxian had assumed Lan Zhan would end up unmarried for his whole life, admired but eternally unattainable. Her personality and skill must be outstanding if they’d married. “Read,” Lan Qiren ordered and for once, Wei Wuxian was inclined to obey.

pov lan qiren, pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, post-first siege of the burial mounds, resurrected wei wuxian, trans wei wuxian, developing friendship, good uncle lan qiren, hurt/comfort, golden core reveal, slow burn, mo xuanyu lives, a-qing lives, case fic, mystery

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[ogdoadfates]

Fanfic Prompts: Bittersweet

For both romantic and platonic ships! Bittersweet is one of my fav categories~

 “We aren’t blood related but you’re the most important family member of mine, you know that right?”

“Can you stay with me just a little longer?”

“I’m doomed to be lonely for the majority of my life, but I’m glad we’ve made the memories we have”

“It’s going to be a long road but I’m content.”

“How about one last adventure?”

“I know we didn’t talk much but either way I just want you to know, you were a big part of my life and I’m thankful for every second we got to spend together.”

“Can you stay up with me?”

“Can you just please listen to me! Just this once. Please.”

“We won’t grow old together will we?” “No, but we made memories that’ll outlive even us.”

“You’re only a memory to me now, but you’re my most cherished memory.”

Bringing the other out to watch the stars on a sad anniversary

Helping the other stop people pleasing because it’s destroying them. 

Happy hangout/date that turns sour due to one of them having a medical emergency.

Staying up late to finally see the other who’s been over workings and falling asleep before they come home, they only getting home way later then expected and just seeing the other asleep with food wrapped up waiting for them.

Watching the other try to power through a event but their slowly cracking under the pressure, being unable to help them till after.

“Some day the world will forget us, yet I find myself oddly content.”

Helping the other through a bad day but it’s slowly breaking you down as well till they notice.

[timetravelsong]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐝.

excerpts from a book I’ll never write

[essycogany]

Knuckles and Shadow could use more interactions.

Good thing I wrote THIS for those who’d like to see how they could interact. Is it accurate? Not sure, but I like a challenge and hope the result is satisfying enough for you guys. Bet you can’t guess were I got the idea from. Enjoy!

[aventurineswife]

I just thought of this now and knew it would be funny but,

What about a platonic!reader x aventurine but reader is like a grandma Madea. I feel like this would be funny since Madea does a lot of illegal stuff and since the IPC is sorta a government. Although she jokes around a lot, everyone knows she doesn't play when it comes to her family.

I feel like it would be really nice for Aventurine to see how much someone genuinely cares.

“You've Got a Friend”

Summary: When IPC’s gambling prodigy, Aventurine, meets a surprising new friend—[Name], a feisty grandma with Madea-like energy and a knack for stirring up trouble—his life takes an unexpected turn.

Tags: Platonic, Aventurine & Grandma Reader, found family, humor, tough love, loyalty, protective reader, unconventional friendship, hurt/comfort, lighthearted moments, character growth, emotional support, Reader is implied female(she/her) but nothing in details, Reader refers Aventurine with nicknames.

Warnings: Mild language, references to emotional scars, some themes of loneliness

A/N: I'M SO SORRY IF I GOT THIS WRONG SOMEHOW OR SOMETHING!! I HAVE NEVER WATCHED THE FILM/MOVIE AND TO READ THE WIKIPEDIA TO UNDERSTAND HER CHARACTER!! 😭

Aventurine knew he’d seen his share of unpredictable people, but nothing could have prepared him for you.

He'd met you by accident—a rumor had surfaced of an unusual figure wreaking havoc at a nearby IPC office, and he thought he'd investigate, assuming it was just another rowdy client. When he arrived, however, he found the office staff staring in shock as you, in all your “grandma” glory, stood there lecturing a young agent on the importance of family values, all while waving around your purse like a weapon.

“Now, let me tell you something, sugar,” you declared, your tone sweet but deadly serious. “When a boy like my grandson comes to your office, he’s here for business, not to be messed with. You play nice, and so will I. Got it?”

You didn’t notice Aventurine standing there at first, taking in the scene with a mix of curiosity and amusement. Finally, you turned, catching his gaze, your eyes narrowing slightly as you assessed him.

“Well, look at you, Mr. Fancy Pants,” you said, giving him a once-over. “What’s a youngin’ like you doing workin’ for the government, hmm? Ain't no good come from trustin' those suits. Just you remember that.”

The other employees in the office looked around nervously, but Aventurine only chuckled. “You must be…[Name]?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Grandma [Name] to you,” you replied, adding a pointed finger jab in his direction. “But you can call me Madea.”

The friendship that blossomed between you and Aventurine was…unusual, to say the least. You quickly took a liking to him, although you never hesitated to remind him you didn't trust “no government types.” You even went as far as calling the IPC “that mess of bureaucratic backstabbers” whenever Aventurine would bring up his job. Yet, despite the tough talk, you always had a glint in your eye whenever he’d visit, bringing you little trinkets he’d won in his latest gambling scheme or updates on his work.

One day, you caught him staring off into the distance, his confident smile faded just slightly, his guard down for just a moment. Without warning, you gave him a light smack on the back of his head, making him jump.

“What was that for?” he asked, rubbing his head and glaring at you.

“Stop lookin' like a kicked puppy. You’re handsome, got a job, a snazzy suit, and them fancy-lookin’ eyes. Life ain’t all bad, honey.” you said with a smirk.

“Since when do you hand out compliments?” he asked, a hint of a genuine smile appearing.

“Since I realized you ain’t got nobody who does it for ya,” you replied, shrugging. “You work so hard, pullin’ strings, playin’ games, but who’s there for you when things go south?”

That got him. He paused, then looked away. “Life is a game, Madea,” he said softly. “You can only rely on yourself.”

“Well, that’s a load of nonsense if I ever heard it,” you said, crossing your arms. “You got me, sugar. You just don’t know it yet.”

One evening, while the two of you were hanging out (at his request—though he’d never admit it), Aventurine made the mistake of mentioning that he had a meeting with some shady IPC officials that he didn’t quite trust.

“Now, what kinda mess you gettin’ yourself into, huh?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“It’s business,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Oh, I don’t like that look you’re givin’ me,” you said, wagging a finger. “Now listen here, if any of them suit-wearin' snakes give you trouble, you come straight to me, you hear?”

He laughed, holding his hands up. “I think I can handle myself just fine. Besides, it’s not like you’d be able to get into an IPC boardroom in the first place.”

You shot him a wicked grin. “Is that a challenge, honey?”

And sure enough, when Aventurine arrived at his meeting the next day, he was shocked to see you already inside the room. You were sitting there, looking comfortable and casual, surrounded by people in stiff business attire, a sly smirk on your face as you glanced up at him.

“Hey there, sugar! Fancy seein’ you here!” you called out, loud enough to startle the room.

The officials looked between the two of you, clearly baffled. Aventurine, unable to suppress his laughter, leaned in and whispered, “You know, you’re absolutely insane.”

“Only insane thing is lettin’ you walk in here without backup. They don’t scare me,” you whispered back with a grin, “but they should be scared of me.”

Over time, you became a fixture in Aventurine's life, always popping up when he least expected it, giving him advice he didn’t think he needed, and occasionally pulling a prank or two on his IPC coworkers just to keep things interesting. And though Aventurine kept his usual, unbothered demeanor, he couldn’t deny it—having you around felt like having someone who actually cared.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you set down a plate of warm, homemade cookies in front of him. “A little somethin’ to lift your spirits, sugar.” you said.

Aventurine stared at the plate, then back at you. “I don’t…know what to say.”

“You don’t gotta say nothin’. Just eat. And remember—family ain’t about blood. Sometimes, it’s about who’s there to smack you upside the head when you’re actin’ a fool.”

A genuine smile broke through Aventurine’s usual smirk, and he picked up a cookie, savoring it. For once, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to play the game alone.

[phoenix-downer]

Love’s First Bloom

Summary: Kairi accidentally falls into a rushing river when she tries to pick a rare paopu flower. Sora and Riku work together to rescue her and realize they both have feelings for her.

Kairi likewise has a few realizations of her own.

~5000 words. Set between BBS and KH1. Love Triangle, Friendship, Romance, Fluff, Angst, Feelings Realization, Crushes, First Love, Introspection, Hurt/Comfort. POV Kairi, Riku, and Sora.

🌸🌼🌺

How quickly life can change. Like a cool breeze picking up or a slight shift in the scenery, suddenly what you took for granted can be gone in an instant. 

“C’mon, Kairi, let’s go!” Sora called. Kairi looked up from her current crafts project: a flower crown with purple asters, white chrysanthemums, blue forget-me-nots, and big red hibiscuses. Those colors were all nice together, but a yellow flower would be a nice addition. Maybe she’d find one as they went exploring. 

She tucked the flower crown in her pocket, then grabbed her straw hat and put it on. She wasn’t like Sora and Riku—they tanned easily, especially Sora, but her skin turned red so fast. And then the red turned into dozens and dozens of freckles. Redheads weren’t made for the tropical sun, and brief memories of another place flickered through her mind. A place with a big castle and lots of flowers and waterfalls. 

“Coming!” she cried as she stumbled after the boys. They were both so much faster than her, and the sand on the beach was always hard to run on. But presently the ground beneath her feet got more solid, and the boys finally slowed down as the three of them passed through the town and started climbing the hills behind it.

“Where are we going this time?” Sora asked, looking at Riku. Riku always decided what they would do. 

Riku grinned and swung his play sword. “It’s a surprise. But I think you’ll like it, Kairi.” He looked at her like he wanted her to say something. Come to think of it, he’d been looking at her a lot lately. 

“Oh, are there nice flowers?” she asked, her fingers resting on the flower crown in her pocket. She wanted to finish it as soon as she could.

Riku’s grin got bigger, and his eyes had a teasing glint in them. “Maybe.” 

“And pretty scenery?” she pressed. Every part of Destiny Islands was pretty, but Riku always knew the best spots.

“Only the best for you,” Riku said, and Kairi felt a funny feeling blooming in her chest.

Sora frowned, his face twisting into a scowl. “I know some pretty spots too, Kairi,” he said. 

Riku rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. The stuff I showed you guys last week,” he said, and Kairi giggled into her hand. 

Now Sora was pouting. “That’s not true, I know a lot of nice spots Riku doesn’t know!” 

“Prove it, then,” Riku said, and Sora muttered something about how he would. At the branch in the mountain path up ahead, he led them to the right. They followed the path for a little longer until Sora took them off the path and through a clump of trees. On the other side was a beautiful clearing full of wildflowers, perfect for sparring. The sound of running water reached Kairi’s ears. There must be a branch of the river nearby. 

“Oh, this is really pretty!” Kairi exclaimed, clasping her hands together. She glanced at Sora, and he grinned and rubbed his cheek. 

“Hmmph,” Riku said. It was clear this was a place he hadn’t been before. Either that or he had but hadn’t thought to bring them here.

Sora pulled his wooden sword out. “Wanna fight?” he asked Riku, and at this Riku perked up. He loved the chance to spar with Sora. He pulled his sword out too and moved into an attack stance. 

Kairi smoothed her skirts and dutifully sat down on the grass nearby. Sora recklessly charged, and Riku carefully evaded him, then caught him in the back. Sora plunged into a roll and then sprung to his feet. He whirled around so quickly that he caught Riku by surprise, knocking Riku over. But Riku still had a trick up his sleeve; he waited a few seconds, then pushed himself up with his arms, using his momentum to kick Sora with both of his feet. Sora flinched and yelped but still clung to his sword. And so the fight continued with neither of them getting the upper hand. Riku was stronger but Sora was faster, so it wasn’t clear who would win.

After a while, Kairi got kinda bored watching the boys fight. They sparred so often that she felt like she'd seen every combination of tricks they could pull off, and there were some pretty-looking flowers over by the riverbank that she really wanted to pick. She skipped off in the direction of the river. A quick glance over her shoulder told her the boys didn’t even notice because they were so focused on their fight. Smiling to herself, she continued on. She usually enjoyed hanging out with Sora and Riku, but sometimes they were just such…boys. Lately they’d been constantly sparring and competing with each other, even when she wanted to pick flowers or go swimming or make seashell crafts. 

Besides, this way she could give them both flowers no matter who won the fight. 

The wildflowers along the riverbank were really pretty. Their petals were small and delicate, like little blue bells hanging off the stems. The river sped along nearby, deceptively calm for having such a fast current. Her parents always warned her about not swimming in the water when it looked like that. One wrong move and she would easily get swept under. 

Humming, she picked a few more flowers and tucked them into her pockets. She was always careful not to take more than she needed. Only enough for her crafts—the rest she needed to leave behind so there would still be pretty flowers in the future. That was what her parents had taught her. The flowers she did pick would make nice gifts and supplies for her crafts.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a brilliant yellow blossom. It had five petals, and the rounded shape of the petals made it look like a paopu fruit. Kairi’s breath caught. Was this the paopu flower? She’d only seen it a couple times in the wild before, and never in a place she could reach it. It was supposed to be super rare, and she hadn’t expected to see one today.

Which meant she had to pick it. Who knows when she might find one again? Edging towards the riverbank, she thought about who to give it to: Sora, or Riku. A blush crept up her cheeks. You were supposed to give the flower to someone you loved. But who did she love? She wasn’t really sure. 

Just…a little further…there. She plucked the flower and smiled, glancing back towards the boys. But the movement threw her balance off, and she gasped and dropped the flower. A clump of earth crumbled beneath her hands, and a root from a nearby tree broke off when she grabbed it. She clutched at something, anything, to keep herself from falling in, but it was too late. With a scream, she tumbled headlong into the cold, fast-moving waters of the river.

🌸🌼🌺

The moment Riku and Sora heard Kairi’s blood-curdling scream and then a loud splash, the boys dropped their swords and raced to the riverbank. Riku knew Kairi was a strong swimmer thanks to his careful lessons (well, and if he had to, he would admit Sora had helped her too), but the river was cold and the current was fast. And if she’d hit her head on anything when she’d fallen…

Riku reached the riverbank first. He yanked his shirt off and threw it on the ground. “Sora, I’m going in!” he called as Sora arrived, panting hard. “Find a branch I can hold onto and pull us out.” Sora nodded, trusting him completely, and with that Riku dove into the icy water. Man, it was cold, and the current was fast, but he had to find Kairi. She hadn’t fallen into the water much earlier than him, but—

There she was, a little further downstream. Her eyes were half-lidded and she was gripping a tree branch, but as he watched in horror, her hand went limp and she slipped back into the water. 

“KAIRI!” he shouted, then swam to her as fast as he could. This couldn't be the end of her. He wouldn't let it be. Ever since she had washed up on the shores of the Destiny Islands eight years ago, his life hadn't been the same. She'd been shy and quiet at first, her eyes always gazing off into the distance like she was searching for someone she couldn't find, but that was before she’d opened up to them. They were all friends now, and the thought of never hearing her giggle or seeing her smile or watching her eyes light up when he surprised her made his stomach churn and drove him to reach her. He had to see the way her eyes danced and her smile got playful when she teased him and Sora again. He just had to.

Faster, he had to go faster. His senses sharpened, and his feelings were as clear as the river rushing to take her away from him: he couldn't bear for her to slip out of his life just as suddenly as she'd entered it. Her head briefly popped out of the water again, and relief flooded him at the side of her familiar red hair. He reached towards her, he was almost there, just a little farther—

“Kairi, grab my hand!” he shouted.

She latched onto his arm with far more strength than he expected, and he knew Sora had to act quickly, or they would both drown. In her desperate state, Kairi wouldn't remember to avoid dragging Riku under the water with her. It was something all parents told their children on Destiny Islands, and the warning rang clear through Riku's mind.

“Riku, grab the stick!” 

Never had he been so relieved to hear his best friend's voice. Sora had tied himself to a tree with some spare rope and was holding out a tree branch to him, his eyes filled with panic and worry. Riku grabbed on, and the unwanted thought flashed through his mind that Sora might not be strong enough to pull them both out. He was still pretty scrawny and small. But a determined glint was in his friend’s eyes now, and Sora braced himself and pulled with far more strength than Riku thought he was capable of. The muscles in his arms strained and shook, and he gritted his teeth and groaned loudly, but he refused to let go. For a split second, Riku thought he saw a blond boy several years older than him in Sora's place, but then he was gone and it was just Sora. Slowly, inch by inch, he pulled Riku and Kairi out of the river.

Sheesh. Riku must've been seeing things with how stressed out he was. He turned his attention to Kairi. She gasped and coughed, and at last enough of Riku was on the bank to pull and drag her the rest of the way up. She was shivering, soaking wet, and now covered in mud from the bank, but she was alive. He suddenly felt very, very weak, and as he glanced at Sora, he was shocked to see tears dripping down his cheeks.

“Thank goodness,” Sora said, sniffing and rubbing his red eyes, his voice filled with relief. “I thought I was gonna lose you both.”

Riku was irritated at how much of a crybaby Sora was being. Again. Seriously, he'd been such a crybaby ever since they were kids, and even at twelve years old, he still cried shamelessly in front of other people. Then Riku was annoyed at how little faith Sora had in him. Did Sora really think he wouldn't save Kairi? 

But when Sora smiled at them both and knelt to hug them, all of that melted away.

We really matter that much to him, don't we? A pang of guilt shot through Riku at how he'd been treating Sora lately. Putting him down in front of Kairi to try to impress her. Goading him and teasing him when he reacted and got upset. Turning everything into a competition because a tiny, green-eyed voice deep down wondered if Kairi liked Sora more.

Not that Sora noticed. The idiot was still so oblivious to his own feelings, let alone Kairi’s.

But Riku didn't push Sora away or tell him not to hug them. He didn't like how clingy Sora was being, but after what they’d all just been through, he would allow Sora to be clingy. Just this once.

“Kairi, you’re as cold as ice,” Sora said. He pulled away from them and frowned. He was right. When Riku touched her arm, it was way colder than it should've been. She coughed and wouldn't stop shivering, and when Sora said her name again, she didn't respond. 

“Kairi, wake up,” Sora begged, but she still wouldn't respond.

“I think she needs to see a doctor,” Riku said. “Hang on, let me grab my shirt so you can put it over her, then I'll go get her parents.”

He found his shirt upriver a little ways away from them, right where he’d left it, and brought it back. He tossed it to Sora and took off running, following the path of the river. He had to make it back to town as quickly as possible. But he was tired, so tired from going after Kairi. Would she really be okay? If only he were stronger, he could carry her all the way back to her parents or to the doctor himself.

Another pang of guilt shot through him. He needed more strength. More strength to protect her. His body was growing every day, but it still wasn't fast enough or strong enough. He still had to rely on adults for help. One day, he would have the strength to protect his friends himself. He had to. 

The thought urged him forward even as his legs ached and his lungs burned. Strength, to protect what matters. That was what he wanted, more than anything else.

🌸🌼🌺

Sora didn't know what to do. Even though he’d wrapped Riku’s shirt around Kairi, she kept getting colder and colder. She wasn't responding to him anymore, like she'd fallen into a deep deep sleep. She was still breathing, but her face was as pale as a ghost’s.

His heart was thundering in his chest, and his head swam. His arms ached from lifting Riku and Kairi out of the water, and he felt so useless. What good was it that he'd gotten her out of the water if she died here?

“Riku, hurry," he pleaded, but he knew he had to do something before his friend returned with help. It would still be a while yet before anyone else came. So he pulled Kairi close to his body and held her tight, hoping with all his heart that his warmth would make her body warm up again.

This was the closest he'd ever been to her, but all he could think about was how cold she was, how limp she was, how he wanted nothing more than for her to open her eyes again. Her eyes were so pretty. Blue like the sea with just a hint of purple, her favorite color. How did he not notice how pretty they were before? And now she might never open them again.

“Wake up, please,“ he begged, and the words sounded strangled and choked. “Kairi, you have to open your eyes!”

How could he have been so stupid? The thought of losing her made him realize just how much she meant to him. She was such an important part of his life, woven into so many memories as tightly as she wove her flower crowns and daisy chains together into beautiful creations. He couldn't imagine the future without her. In his mind, he'd arrogantly acted like she would always be there. But today had shown him he couldn't ever take a single moment with her for granted.

So he willed with all his heart that she would live, that his warmth would be enough. If it was, he would be sure to treasure every memory with her from now on.

After what was probably only minutes but felt like hours of agonized waiting, her skin felt ever so slightly warmer. At first he thought it was his overactive imagination, but no, a slight flush had returned to her cheeks. He gripped her even more tightly. A minute passed, and then another, and at last she stirred and opened her eyes.

“Sora?” she said weakly. Her voice sounded more like the croaks of the frogs they liked to catch in the pool on the Play Island, but to him it was the most wonderful sound in the world.

“You're awake!” He smiled, and in that moment he thought his heart would leap out of his chest. A warm, tingly sensation tumbled through him, but it wasn't a bad feeling. Just exciting and new. He would think about it later.

She smiled back. “You saved me. Thank you.”

He couldn't help himself. He hugged her tightly, and a moment later, he felt her arms wrapping around him. This was a very different hug from the quick hug he’d given her and Riku earlier. She was close, closer than she'd ever been, and something stirred deep inside him. His face, no, his entire body felt warm. He’d never been so aware of his body like this before, let alone hers. He was embarrassed by what he was feeling, but at the same time, he didn't want to let go of her either. It was like he couldn't move and didn't want to. She wasn't pulling away either. Did she like hugging him? He sure liked hugging her.

What was all this? He’d never felt like this before. Before he could make heads or tails of it, Riku returned with the grownups. 

The look on Riku's face was strange. Like Sora had just said something awful and punched him. Sora felt oddly…guilty. Like he shouldn't be hugging Kairi like this in front of Riku, even though it felt better than he could've imagined. So he pulled away from her even though he could've sat there hugging her for hours.

“Kairi, are you okay?" her mother asked, holding a blanket out to her daughter. The grownups took over from that point, and Sora just sort of watched everything in a daze.

Until Kairi wondered whose T-shirt she was wearing, and Riku shyly said that it was his. Kairi thanked him and tried to give it back to him, her cheeks pink as she avoided looking at his bare chest. Riku shook his head and insisted she keep it, and his cheeks were flushed too.

Sora felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. The breeze that had felt pleasant earlier felt cold now. Like the world was strange and different and off kilter because he knew something he wished he didn't. 

He understood now why Riku had given him that strange look. A tiny green-eyed monster reared its ugly head inside him. A creature of shadow that whispered Kairi's mine. Sora pushed the creature deep down to where he couldn't hear it anymore. Kairi wasn't a possession to own, she was a person. She was his friend. How could he even think something like that?

But a part of him didn't want her hugging anyone else the way she'd hugged him. And that part of him did not like the way she had looked at Riku, or the way Riku had looked at her.

Sora had stepped into a storybook he didn't want to be any part of. Riku was his best friend. Kairi was also his friend. He didn't want to hurt Riku, and he couldn't bear to watch Kairi smile at Riku or blush because of something Riku had said or giggle because of something Riku had done. He had the funny sense that the little green-eyed monster would grow bigger and stronger every time she did.

So when the grownups took Kairi back to the town, Sora stayed behind. She looked disappointed but didn't argue, and he promised he'd see her tomorrow. Now he was wandering back and forth by the river and kicking clumps of grass. He didn't think he could be around Riku or Kairi right now. He was relieved she was okay, but he had no idea what was going on with himself. The three of them were friends. They would always be friends. Right?

He wanted everything to go back to the way it was. Things had been fine this morning. Sure, Riku liked to tease him, and Kairi liked to tease him too, but he knew where his place was in that world. This new world, with these confusing new feelings? He had no idea. All he was sure of was that he wanted to hug Kairi again like that, but he didn't want to hurt Riku's feelings. And he knew that if Kairi ever hugged Riku the way she had hugged him, the monster might destroy him from the inside.

Not that he could ever let either of them know that. All of this felt so wrong and so complicated. 

He wandered over to the spot where Kairi had fallen in the river. A yellow flower with five petals caught his eye. Huh. The rounded shape of the petals kinda made it look like a paopu fruit. He picked it up and carefully tucked it in his pocket. It was a nice flower, and for some reason, he felt like it should stay with him. Maybe it was a token of good luck that had kept Kairi safe. He would take it home and put it in a vase. That would help it live for a while longer.

As he walked home, the future didn't seem so scary anymore. Those strange thoughts he had had earlier, those weird new feelings…it all felt a little silly now. He and Riku and Kairi would always be friends. He put his hands behind his neck and whistled as he walked the path home.

A tiny part of him, not the little green-eyed monster but something smaller and more delicate and yet harder to kill, hoped that someday, Kairi would hug him again like that, and that Riku wouldn't hate him for it.

🌸🌼🌺

The next day, Kairi was feeling much better. A good night’s sleep, her mother's miso soup, and the day off from school had worked wonders. Still, that had been an awfully close call, and she promised her parents never to do something so foolish again just to try to get a flower.

She sighed sadly. She'd been so close to having a legendary paopu flower of her own. Imagine what she could've done with it! Oh well. It certainly wasn't worth her life, and she knew she would find another one eventually.

The weather was perfect today. She happily skipped down the path to the main part of town, enjoying the beautiful scenery. Her father was the mayor, and her family lived in a big special house on a hill overlooking the town. Sora and Riku's families lived in town, so it was a bit of a walk to reach them, but she didn't mind.

She decided to stop by Sora's house first. It was a little closer, and he'd acted strange after their hug yesterday, and she wanted to know why. He’d gotten all quiet and thoughtful, which wasn't like him at all. She was a little bummed out he hadn't walked her home along with the grownups and Riku. But he’d said he wanted to stay behind a little longer, and she’d been too tired to argue.

She knocked on the door, then rocked up and down on her heels as she waited for him to answer, her hands behind her back. His mom opened the door instead and invited her in, and she greeted her politely and took off her shoes. Then she took the stairs two at a time and burst into his room. He was lying on his bed with his hands behind his neck, and he sat up, surprise written on his features until he realized it was her. His face lit up and then softened into a smile.

“Hey, Kairi! I'm glad you're feeling better.”

She tilted her head and leaned closer, which made his breath catch in an adorable way and a flush creep up his cheeks. “It's all thanks to you and—“

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a brilliant yellow blossom carefully placed in a simple glass vase on his bedside table. It had five round petals, and Kairi’s breath caught. Was this the paopu flower she’d picked yesterday? 

“Sora, where did you find that flower?” 

He grinned. “Oh, that? It's pretty, isn't it? I found it on the riverbank yesterday and brought it home because I liked it.” He paused for a moment, studying her face. “Do you want it?”

She just stared at him for a few moments. You were supposed to give the flower to someone you loved. By fate or by chance, the flower had made its way to Sora. And in that moment, her feelings became crystal clear. The flower was a sign, but it hadn’t made up her mind. No, it was simply confirmation of what she already knew, deep down inside her heart.

She was very grateful to Riku for saving her from the river and for his friendship over the years, and like every other girl on the islands, she thought he was attractive, so of course she had blushed at seeing him shirtless yesterday. But she'd also realized something very important, something that had taken her by complete surprise.

Sora was the one she had a crush on. Sora. On paper she should prefer Riku. He was older, he was more mature, he was stronger and faster and good-looking. So why didn't she like him like that?

The answer was Sora. As she gazed at him, her heart grew warm and a blush spread across her cheeks. She couldn't stop thinking about the tender way he’d hugged her yesterday. How safe and gentle his arms were. How he had warmed her cold, shivering body up. The smile on his face that was meant only for her. It had lit up his eyes when she woke up and transformed his entire appearance. And his eyes were so pretty. How had she never noticed before? They were as blue as the sky at midday without a cloud to shroud them. She loved his messy mop of spiky brown hair and his dorky clothes, too. 

He was so brave and kind and goodhearted. Finding the strength from deep in his heart to rescue both her and Riku from the river, even though it must've been really difficult to pull them both out of it.

Sora was a good person. And knowing he was a good person, that he would go to any length to save her, painted him in a different light. Or maybe she was finally seeing what had been there all along.

She suddenly felt bad about the look on his face yesterday when she’d tried to give Riku back his T-shirt. He looked so hurt in a way she hadn't ever seen before, but he’d quickly masked it. Was it possible he was jealous? The thought sent a little thrill through her.

He had nothing to be jealous of. The paopu flower was only confirmation of something that had been growing and growing until today it had burst into bloom. Its yellow petals cast everything in a different light, like rays of the sun showing her Sora’s true self.

He tilted his head, a faint smile twitching at his lips. “Kairi? Everything okay?”

“Yes, sorry! I just got lost in thought, that's all.”

He just shook his head and grinned. “And you give me such a hard time about daydreaming,” he teased, putting his hands behind his neck. Then his expression softened and he lowered them. “But seriously, do you want the flower? You can have it.”

“Oh! No, no I want you to keep it. It suits you, and it suits that spot on the window.”

Still…The fact that he’d offered her the flower…was that confirmation he had feelings for her, too? 

No, he didn't know what it meant. She wasn't even sure he knew what his feelings were. But maybe one day he would. And then maybe he would tell her.

“Okay!” He glanced out the window looking out over the area in front of the house, where Riku was now waiting for them. “C’mon, Riku’s here.”

“I'll be right down,” she told him. With that he took off and clambered down the stairs while she lingered, staring in awe at the flower. It had found its way to Sora like it was supposed to and had revealed her feelings to her. Her heart.

This was all so strange and sudden and new. She needed time to think, to process her feelings before she went downstairs and joined the boys. A blush crept up her face, and she giggled into her hand. Sora! She liked Sora! Selphie would tease her endlessly about it if she knew.

But she didn't have to know yet. For now, this was Kairi's precious, private secret. She didn't have to tell anyone until she was ready. How this would all unfold was uncertain, but these new feelings were wonderful, and she would treasure them in her heart just like she treasured Sora in her heart.

And, when the time was right, she would tell him. Glancing at the flower one final time, she knew how she would do it. It was all in the flower’s namesake. She descended the stairs with a smile, looking forward to the day her daydreaming would become a reality.

🌸🌼🌺

A/N: Happy birthday to @hollypollly! 🥳 She gave me a very detailed prompt and outline for the story which was a lot of fun to write ❤️ Thank you so much for everything, Holley, and I hope you have a wonderful day and a fantastic year ❤️ I'm really grateful we met, and I'm glad you're a part of my life 🥺❤️

And thank you all for reading ❤️ I really enjoyed exploring how each of the characters felt in this situation because I do think they would all be feeling conflicting emotions, and it was fun to put that Ventus cameo in there too. I also really enjoyed exploring the world of Destiny Islands more and expounding on the paopu flower concept Holley came up with. Hope you all enjoyed!

[afewproblems]

Difficult Days Part One

Even at ten years old Shawn knew he was different. 

It didn’t take a genius to notice, and Shawn was certainly good at noticing things --observing, his dad would be quick to say, correcting him as usual. 

His dad did that a lot, correcting, insisting there was a right way to do things; there was a right way to play hide and seek, there was a right way to camp, to relax, and more often than not it was the opposite of what Shawn was doing. 

While other kids learned how to play baseball and spent their loose change at the arcade, Shawn was instead learning how to navigate through the woods without a compass, escape from the trunk of a car, and how to spot a squeaky floorboard from four paces. 

While his classmates were at the beach, searching for jellyfish in the low tide pools, Shawn would memorize the layout of restaurants and describe the last three patrons to walk through the door in the time it took him and his dad to get their drink orders. 

‘You can’t skate through life Shawn,’ his dad would tell him, breathing the words out sharply, ‘you have skills others don’t and you need to use them the right way, I don’t get why you can’t see that’.

It was exhausting. 

Why was the right way only his dad’s way? It had never been very clearly explained to Shawn, other than how great of a cop he could be -maybe even a detective. But why couldn't he use his observation skills the way he wanted to? This grownup stuff was years away!  It wasn’t like it was something he could turn off, so what was the big deal?

Like Mr. Cooper’s homework spot checks. 

None of the other kids had managed to figure out his system, the pattern to the days when their teacher would ask for their math homework.

Tommy Decker insisted it was completely random, that the man asked for it on a whim -just to torture them all. 

Mandy Holloway on the other hand, whose sister had Mr. Cooper for math the previous year, argued that it was based on the moon cycle and every second new moon the pattern would change - you just have to track it Tommy.

But somehow Shawn always, always, seemed to know without fail the day that Mr. Cooper would ask them all to pass their work to the front of each row.

It wasn’t Shawn’s fault that Mr. Cooper was incredibly obvious, so why shouldn't he take advantage of it? Besides, it was almost mind boggling how the other kids in his class couldn’t see the many, many, tells their teacher had. 

First, there were the heavy purple bags under Mr. Cooper's eyes that would tend to show up a few days before the homework check. 

Mr. Cooper would also become noticeably agitated over the smallest of incidents in the classroom, whether a student was running late or even opened their book bags a little too loudly - it didn’t matter, detention was in their future. 

That coupled with the noticeable creases in Mr. Cooper’s shirts, unironed, and lacking the normal meticulous care --probably on the outs with his wife based on the intermittent wearing of his large gold wedding band.

Finally, and honestly how no one else in his class seemed to see this one, if Mr. Cooper brought in a gas station paper coffee cup as he walked into the classroom -instead of his usual metal thermos from home, that was the nail in the coffin. The final sign that Mr. Cooper would be demanding their homework the very next day. 

It was so, so obvious, at least to Shawn.

But then, so too was Shawns ability to avoid the seemingly random spot checks.

“How do you always know?” Tommy whispers to Shawn near the end of the school year, his voice quiet to avoid Mr. Cooper’s notice as the man wanders up and down the rows of desks.

“Know what?” Shawn says, his voice equally soft as he turns towards Tommy, whose face twists into a sneer at the question.

Tommy scoffs with narrowed blue eyes, “Duh, Cooper’s homework checks, you’ve never not handed it in - what are you some kind of nerd?” 

Shawn blinks, the way Tommy spits out the word, nerd, can’t bode well for him. He remembers just the previous year, how Tommy and a few of the other boys in their grade had given Gus a hard time, even going so far to give his best friend a swirly. Shawn shivers at the memory and shakes his head rapidly, he opens his mouth to argue when suddenly a shadow appears over his desk. 

He manages to quickly turn back to his paper, away from Tommy’s glare, and writes down an answer to question seven from their textbook. It’s not the right answer, he knows that already, but it’s enough to throw Mr. Cooper off his scent.

Their teacher shifts away from Shawn, seemingly satisfied, and looks at Tommy who isn’t quite fast enough.

“Eyes on your own paper Thomas, I don’t want to have to tell you again,” Mr. Cooper says sternly, but his voice is tired at the edges. Whatever fight the Coopers had must have been a real doozy this time. Shawn tries not to think about his own parents' fights and the silence that would drift through the house for days afterwards. Did Mrs. Cooper shut down the way Shawn's mom so often did? Maybe Mr. Cooper yelled, like Shawn's dad. It seemed likely given the number of detentions the man had assigned their class this year. 

Mr.Cooper waits for another beat between their desks until Tommy finally shifts in his chair and lowers his face to his desk, the tips of his ears quickly flushing pink beneath curly blond hair. 

“Yes Mr. Cooper,” Tommy mumbles into his desk. 

Their teacher nods and leaves, making his way over to a pair of girls on the far side of the room hiding a magazine under the desk - or trying to. 

“You did that on purpose,” Tommy hisses, shooting a withering glare at Shawn, “you knew he was there-”

“What am I psychic?” Shawn huffs with a roll of his eyes, “how was I supposed to know he was there, huh?”

Tommy turns away again, glaring at the paper on his desk. Shawn watches as Tommy catches the eye of Marcus Boon across the classroom.

Shawn stifles a low groan as the other boy's eyes flick between him and Tommy; Marcus levels him with a sneer to rival Tommy’s own and lifts a finger to his throat before dragging it across in one smooth motion. 

Well, shit. 

So much for making it through at least one school year without getting into a fight. 

***

“You should’a just told him,” Gus breathes out, his chest heaving as he and Shawn scramble over the fence of the Spencer front yard. Both boys make a beeline for the porch, Gus keeps watch while Shawn stops first at the small garden to grab the spare hide-a-key out from the fake rock beside his mom’s hydrangeas.

Shawn is lucky that Gus had been with him on the way home from school, not that it had stopped Tommy Decker and Marcus Boon from making good on their threat from math class, chasing Shawn down the road to the boardwalk.

Shawn winces as his fingers grip the key, his hands hurt from where he had managed to stop himself from falling face first into the gravel after being shoved by Marcus. 

Thankfully Gus had managed to distract the pair of boys long enough for them to make a run for it. 

“Tommy’s an asshole, they both are, why should I tell them anything,” Shawn mutters, wincing as his split lip opens again, the smell of copper invades his nose, making him nauseous. 

He gets the key in the door and opens it, bringing in the fake rock with him. He’ll have to explain to his dad that he ‘lost’ his house key again, knowing that Tommy and Marcus had taken it from him and thrown it into the trees off the side of the road. One more thing for his dad to lecture him over.

Shawn can feel Gus staring as he brings the hide-a-key with him into the kitchen, but says nothing as the pair make their way through the quiet house. 

He places the rock on the counter with the spare key beside it. Gus opens the pantry door and takes a pair of Wagon Wheels out of the already open box, the cellophane crinkles as Gus tosses one to Shawn. 

“All I'm saying is you might get beat up less,” Gus says before taking a large bite of the chocolate snack cake, he wipes the mess of crumbs from his cheeks onto the floor and shoots Shawn a grin at the mess.

“And I'm saying, they don't need much of an excuse,” Shawn counters, matching Gus’ grin as he watches the collection of crumbs grow on the kitchen tile floor.

Shawn chews on his lip, playing with the thin cellophane around his snack cake, “It’s…it's weird, right?”

Gus blinks, his lips quirk into a half frown as he takes another pensive bite of his cake before finally shrugging. 

“Well, who cares? I think we're cool so if that's weird, then we're weird together”.

Shawn lets a groan out and shakes his hands so hard his own snack cake goes flying onto the counter with a soft thunk.

“No!” He breathes out sharply, “I mean, it's weird being able to know things about people without trying, I don’t want to know them, I don't want to be in this situation, it’s weird and it sucks and dad thinks its so great but--”

Shawn stops speaking as the last of Gus’ chocolate cake is suddenly smushed into the side of his face. Crumbs and icing litter the tile around them, some has smeared from Gus's shoes in his haste to dart out of the line of fire. The previously spotless kitchen is now completely filthy in just a matter of seconds.

Shawn slowly looks at Gus, who has the widest grin on his face, and breathes out a startled laugh.

“Dad is going to kill you,” he says, wiping cake and icing from his cheek. 

“He's not my dad,” Gus snorts as he tries to dodge Shawn's swipe of cake hands.

He might as well be, Shawn thinks to himself as he reaches for more cake crumbs from the floor and manages to smear them onto Gus’ face. 

At least one upside to Shawn’s memory is he’ll be able to hold onto this, their laughter in the afternoon sun, the smell of chocolate, for a really really long time.

Wrestling in the kitchen with his best friend, previous hurts forgotten for now and with chocolate smeared all over their clothes, their faces, and the floor, Shawn had never felt less like an only child. 

Tag List: @adaed5 @drakkywolf

[wordingg]

Revenge Is Cold Comfort

Dead Boy Ween Day Two ~ Prompt: Comfort

Summary: Charles and Edwin go to a park to see some ducks and Charles gets into a fight.

AN: check the tags on this one, just in case. there is comfort, but you gotta make it to the end!

It was a rare day that saw Charles and Edwin spending time together without Crystal about. But, as she had so firmly told them "these curls don't maintain themselves" and had warned them in no uncertain terms not to bother her while she was at the salon or she would "punt them directly into the sun" they decided to honor her wishes and give her a day to herself.

So, Charles and Edwin found themselves with a whole day to fill, with no pressing cases to work on and no Crystal to bother.

After a few minutes of the both of them puttering around the office uselessly, Charles said, "We haven't had a day out ourselves in, God..." Charles looked up at the ceiling like it would have his answer.

"Not since April," Edwin helpfully supplied. That day had been quite lovely. Charles and Edwin had attended a performance of Shakespeare in the park and then spent the afternoon in a nearby combination coffee shop / bookstore where Edwin was able to peruse both the interesting people and the new releases just put on the shelves.

"Right. That's way too long, probably," Charles said with a wrinkle of his nose. "Let's go out!" he said, clapping his hands and grinning at Edwin devilishly. Edwin firmly told his heart to go back where it belonged and stop trying to climb up his throat. Charles looked quite devious, but he often did. It didn't require that kind of reaction from him of all people.

Swallowing, Edwin turned on his heel to grab his coat and shrugged it on. "Capital idea, Charles. Lead the way."

They ended up in a park a bit farther away from the office than Edwin had expected. "I want to see the ducks!" Charles had insisted when Edwin asked why he had picked that particular park. He supposed that was as good a reason as any. Ducks were perfectly pleasant to look at.

It was a clear and warm autumn day, the strong buttery sunshine chasing off most of the chill. That being the case, the park was full of people, despite it being the middle of a weekday. True to his word, Charles went straight for the duck pond, crouching down at the edge and gazing intently at the ducks swimming in lazy curves along the flat mirror like surface of the water.

"D'you ever think it's odd that only cats can talk?" Charles asked idly as he frowned at a particularly round mallard duck that looped around to point one beady dark eye at him suspiciously. "I feel that if cats of all creature can talk, surely ducks can too."

Edwin frowned down at Charles. He looked again at the especially rotund duck who was apparently engaged in a serious staring competition with Charles. Sometimes, even after thirty-eight years of living together, Edwin still had no idea what went on inside Charles' head. When Charles wasn't speculating about the communication abilities of aquatic birds, Edwin could appreciate Charles' unique way of thinking as an asset to the agency and something to be admired. It was hard to remember that while he was staring down a duck.

"I'm certain I have no idea," Edwin muttered, despairing at the thought of what the rest of the day had in store for him. Hopefully not more ducks.

Whatever Charles was about to say in response was cut off by the sound of a loud smack just behind them. Before Edwin had even fully turned around, Charles was on his feet and walking fast.

Only a dozen feet away was the apparent source of the sound. A large man holding a now crying little girl by her upper arm and whispering fiercely at her. His free hand was still raised threateningly and she was holding her steadily reddening cheek in one little hand, her big brown eyes welling over with shining tears. It didn't take a detective to put the sound and the scene together and realize what had happened.

"Oi!" Charles shouted, still stalking toward the scene.

"Charles," Edwin called, hurrying after them. "They can't hear you," he said, already knowing that it didn't matter.

Charles got right up into the man's face, squaring up like he was ready for a fight. "Oi, you wanna do that again, mate?" he spat.

The man didn't react, of course. He couldn't see them. But, the little girls' eyes got even bigger as they focused on Charles and the way he had pushed himself between her and the man.

"Are you listening to me, you little brat?" the man shouted, giving the girl a hard shake.

"Get your FUCKING hands off her!" Charles shouted, giving the man a hard shove. The man went flying backward, his eyes now almost as big as the little girl.

When the girl stumbled, Edwin stepped in smartly to catch and right her before she could fall. She gasped at his touch and he took his hands away quickly. He understood that touching a ghost could be quite unpleasant for the living, but he didn't want to let the little girl fall either.

She turned her big wet brown eyes up at Edwin and he felt his heart melt a little despite himself. Her tears had stopped, but her cheek was already starting to swell, the poor thing. He tried his best to give her a reassuring smile and held his index finger up in front of his mouth.

"Oh," she said faintly and then nodded. She shuffled a little closer to him and Edwin tried not coo at her.

Just a few feet away, the man was shouting and cussing up a storm as Charles kicked his feet out from under him every time he tried to stand up. A small knot of people had gathered around to watch, a few of them with their smartphones out to record what to them likely looked like a man flailing about wildly and somehow failing over and over to gain his feet.

After almost a full two minutes of that, someone finally noticed the little girl standing back with a swollen red cheek and tear tracks on her face. A kind looking middle aged woman who had been watching the man in concern glanced over, her eyebrows shooting up her forehead as she saw the girl. She hurried over and physically put herself between the man and the girl, which Edwin approved of.

"Hello, dearie," she said as she knelt down to the little girl's level. She had a bit of a northern accent and she smiled kindly at the little girl. Edwin watched her closely, cataloging her appearance and temperament (the woman was wearing a cardigan, she had a purse and sensible shoes, she was wearing a wedding ring on her left hand third finger, the edge of a tattoo peaked out from beneath her collar) and found nothing to raise his concern. "How did you get hurt? Are you all right? Are your parents here somewhere?" the woman asked.

Behind them, Charles had stopped tripping the man and a few good samaritans had stepped forward to ask if he was having a seizure or a stroke and if they should call the paramedics. The man seemed shaken and confused and was having trouble answering.

The little girl looked up at Edwin questioningly. "I think you can trust her," Edwin said quietly. "Tell her the truth."

The little girl nodded seriously and then turned back to the woman. She was looking up at Edwin with a frown, but obviously couldn't see him. Her attention went right back to the girl when she looked at her.

"That's my uncle, Samuel," the girl said very clearly, pointing over the woman's shoulder at the man still slumped on the ground. "He smacked me for getting my dress dirty," she said sadly, fingering a little spot of mud on the end of her skirt.

"Wanker," Charles spat, stepping up behind Edwin. The girl's eyes flew to Charles and his own widened in surprise. "Oh! Uh, I mean. What a meanie?" Charles looked desperate to Edwin for help.

Edwin gave Charles an unimpressed look. "Really, Charles."

"Right. Sorry," Charles winced in apology. He turned back to the little girl to give her a big warm smile, the kind of smile that Edwin sometimes felt might be burnt onto the back of his eyelids because it was so bright and unforgettable. "Don't you worry about him, love. He won't be bothering you anymore, I don't think."

The woman, unaware of this little exchange, was already on her cellular device talking to emergency services. She had her arm tucked around the little girl's waist and was shooting nervous glances at the man who still seemed not to remember to look for his niece. Edwin thought this was quite right. It was gratifying to know that there were still good people in the world who would step in to do the right thing, whether he and Charles were there or not.

"Are you fairies?" the little girl asked Charles with her big shining eyes focused entirely on him.

"What?" the woman asked, a little shocked. She looked toward where Charles and Edwin were standing with concern and then demanded into her small rectangular telephone "Please hurry! She's in shock, the poor thing."

Edwin wrinkled his nose at the implication that he and Charles might be fey. "Absolutely not," he declared. "If you ever see a real fairy, do not speak to them. They are quite insufferable," Edwin informed her seriously. He and Charles had more than a few run in with fairies over the years of working cases and every one down the last was the most awful bit of nonsense he had ever had the misfortune of coming across.

"We're ghosts. Ghost detectives, actually," Charles explained. He then elbowed Edwin, which Edwin felt was quite uncalled for. "Give her our card, mate," he said with a smile.

Huffing, Edwin pulled one of their enchanted business cards from the inside pocket of his coat and offered it to the little girl. She took it very carefully, looking down at it like it was magic, which Edwin supposed it was. Luckily the woman had been too busy watching two police officers approach at a fast walk to notice the card appearing in the little girl's hand.

"You can tuck that business card into an envelope with a letter and then put it under your bed and it will be delivered to us," Edwin informed her.

"Or you can call the number on there," Charles said, pointing to the phone number printed neatly under their address. "We have one now. Right handy, it is," he said with a smile.

Edwin looked up at the clear blue sky and took a deep breath. A phone number just didn't have the same gravitas as a magical business card that could summon the dead postman who delivered their mail, but he couldn't begrudge Charles anything. Even ruining a good moment.

"Yes, or you can use the telephone number," Edwin sighed.

"Thank you," the little girl whispered, before the two police approached her and the woman and they were both pulled into a serious conversation about what had just happened.

Charles and Edwin stayed in the park for a long time. They watched the police talk to the little girl, and then more police arrived to speak to her uncle, and then more police arrived to put her uncle in the back of a vehicle in handcuffs, and finally the girl's mother, still dressed in an apron and non-slip shoes, ran crying through the park to scoop her daughter up in her arms. The nice older woman also stayed the whole time. Edwin had privately begun to think of the three of them as the little girl's volunteer security team. She certainly looked at all three of them like she trusted them to keep her safe. That was a feeling that Edwin would cherish for a long time.

The sun was setting by the time that the last of the police and the crowd of onlookers finally dispersed. The ducks, who had been avoiding the side of the duck pond that had been host to so much chaos, finally returned to swimming lazy half circles in the water near the edge.

Charles sat in the short brown grass watching them. Edwin wanted to scold him for sitting on the bank that was surely more duck feces than it was grass, but knew that it didn't really matter. It wasn't as if Charles' clothing could get dirty from something as mundane as duck poop.

After a long time spent with the two of them staring morosely at the ducks, Charles said, "Sorry for losing it there for a bit."

"Quite understandable," Edwin assured him quietly. He peaked at Charles from the corner of his eye. He was frowning at the shining surface of the pond, his eyes not tracking any of the ducks, his hands fisted in the material of his pants.

"It's not," he bit out. "If I was smart, I would have looked out for the little girl instead of just-" Charles bit off whatever he meant to say. Edwin actually heard his teeth click together as he did it. "You had your priorities straight. You kept her safe," Charles said, finally turning to look at Edwin. His eyes shined too much in the warm orange light of the sunset, betraying the tears swimming at the edges of his dark curling eyelashes.

Warning lights were going off in Edwin's head. This subject was a minefield and Edwin was uniquely unqualified to navigate it. He never knew what the right thing to say was, when emotions were involved. He barely knew the right thing to say when they weren't.

But, Charles looked so beautiful and tragic in the fading light of autumn, that Edwin knew he must try, come what may.

Hesitantly, Edwin reached out and placed his hand over Charles'. He carefully pulled the hand loose from his pants and weaved his fingers between his friend's. He looked down at their fingers twined together, because he felt if he looked at Charles' face he would never be able to put his thoughts together.

"Perhaps I stayed with the girl, but the only reason I could do that was because I knew I could trust you to keep that man away from her," Edwin said.

Charles made a strange sound and Edwin looked up at him. The tears had escaped and were running down Charles' cheeks, spectral fluid glowing a pale blue in the fading sunlight.

"Charles, you are kind, and strong, and most of all compassionate. I would never disparage you for being yourself, because I love the person that you are," Edwin said firmly.

And then he wrapped his arms around his best friend in the world and let him cry onto his shoulder as the sun sank below the horizon and the ducks finally left the pond to find their own place to roost.

[gnomewithalaptop]

In this world, it's just us

Two weeks after Kon quits the team, Cissie and Cassie show up to throw rocks at his window (takes place after Kon's mind-control arc in Teen Titans (2003) #24)

Written as part of the @dcufans4palestine event as requested by @strawberrysoop

--

Two weeks after Kon quits the team, Cassie shows up in the middle of the night to throw rocks at his bedroom window.

Or rather, that was probably what her plan was at the start. Unfortunately for him though, because it’s Cassie and not one of the non-powered Titans, instead of bouncing harmlessly off the frame, the first rock goes crashing through the wooden siding at Mach 2. The resulting wood splinters and shards of glass hit Kon right in his invulnerable face.

For a moment, he just lies there, staring up at the ceiling in defeat. Then, after a few seconds, a belated “Oops” drifts up from the grass below.

Kon closes his eyes.

Yep. Definitely Cassie. Hopefully she hasn’t brought Tim and Bart with her. He so doesn’t want to talk to all three of them right now.

“I’m not interested in whatever new argument you guys’ve cooked up!” he shouts, aiming it in the general direction of the sad little hole that was once the Kents’ east-facing window. “I’ve said my piece already – either respect my decision or buzz off till tomorrow!”

“Aw, c’mon, SB. Quit being a doofus and come outside already,” comes a new voice. Lower register, but more feminine than Cassie’s.

Kon freezes in place, eyes wide. Listens closer.

Because even after everything, he knows that voice.

Continue on AO3

[ogdoadfates]

Protective prompts #1

I love these kinds of prompts, feel more then free to send me some my way! And as always feel free to use these for whatever you like!

“Regardless of if you hurt them physically or not, you still hurt them and I never want to see you near them again. Do I make myself clear.”

“I never wish to see the two of you in the same room again.”

“If you wish to keep your fingers, I’d take your hands off them.”

“Please do not stray from my sight.”

Person  A refusing to let go of an injured Person B

“Out!”

Person A going almost feral to defend a unconscious Person B

“Stay, please.”

Person A letting Person B hide behind them

Person A hiding Person B behind them

Person A taking care of a sick Person B

“I’d give up anything for you.”

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

“It’s going to be okay.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Watch out!”

Person A patching up Person B’s wounds.

 “I love you but please, just let me.”

“You’re the love of my life, of course I came.”

“Please, you need rest.”

[timetravelsong]

𝐈’𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥.

excerpts from a book I’ll never write

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 3 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part one Part two Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

Chapter Three

Eddie POV

“You wanna thank me for saving your life, Munson? Then stop trying to ditch me.” 

Steve sinks a little deeper into the couch, and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Steve?” Eddie flails, then, before he knows it, he reaches out, brushing Steve’s hair from his clammy brow. He cups his face and gently jostles him. “Steve! Shit, you with me?”

“Stop hassling me,” Steve mumbles. He’s turned a shade paler, if that was even possible.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Robin finally returns with the bandages. “Steve?”

“Jesus, will you both stop yelling?” Steve moans softly. “Just… gimme a minute, okay?”

“Okay. I’m gonna try bandaging him up,” says Robin to Eddie. “Go find a blanket. You didn’t notice he’s massively shivering?”

Telling her how Steve took a turn for the worse real quick feels like a weak excuse. “Yeah. Blanket. Right.”

“Oh, and clean clothes. For both of you. Something for me, too? And… Oh my God, I guess we need supplies for a road trip.”

Eddie grabs the cover from Steve’ bed, some clothes already laid out, and delivers them downstairs. Steve mutters his thanks and drags the pants on, while the others avert their gazes uncomfortably. He collapses back down onto the couch. 

He’s stopped bitching. It must be bad.

Robin places a dressing over Steve’s wound, unfurls a long bandage. Eddie has to admit—he’s astonished by how collected she is. Granted, like earlier, she pulls a spectacular spectrum of grossed-out faces. Eddie sees how tender she’s trying to be, as she helps Steve to sit, starts winding the bandage around his midriff. And he gets it.

Dammit, how did some guy he loved to hate, turn out to be so easy to like?

Still jealous, Harrington.

Also, though the poor guy is struggling to remain conscious, Eddie still struggles not to ogle that body. Steve’s chest really is mega-hot. And how the heck can somebody’s wet hair retain so much shape and volume?

“You gonna go get those supplies,” asks Robin, “or stand there and gawp till Vecna swallows Hawkins whole?”

Eddie snaps his mouth shut, scurries off.

Rifling through Steve’s stuff feels totally audacious. While Steve’s bikini girl posters are not to his taste–cringe!–he’s not un-enjoying himself. He literally breathes in Steve on everything—his premium-brand clothes, the bedding, the whole room. And woah, what has his life come to when Eddie Munson is intimate enough with Steve Harrington to dig his scent?

He drags off his ruined Hellfire Club t-shirt over his head—not without a pang, because all the scrubbing in the world’s not gonna save that pretty baby. He catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror, and staggers back into the bed. Woah!

His hair is a car-wreck, his torso a mass of red wheals and scratches. Yet that truly is all his injuries are. They scarcely overshadow his ink. He sorts out his hair, for which Steve possesses some truly excellent tools of the trade, and then discovers Steve owns a thick leather belt with a chunky silver buckle that isn’t entirely un-metal. He looks weird and almost preppy in Steve’s clean, crisp clothes, but…

… you’re still gonna stick out like a long-haired loon’s sore thumb. 

He locates a roomy woolly hat, bundles his hair up beneath it, and grabs the rest of the supplies.

Downstairs, Robin fiddles to tie the ends of Steve’s fresh bandages. Steve, meanwhile, lies partially beneath the blanket, his arm flung across his face. Eddie’s alarm spikes, though he tries to keep it light: “For a self-confessed hater of bodily fluids, you are smashing it outta the stadium today, Buckley.”

She glances up, a portrait of anguish. “He’s getting worse.”

“Stop worrying,” mumbles Steve, sliding his hand from his eyes. Then his head flops limply to one side.

“Steve!” Robin shakes him. “Eddie, he’s out for the count! What do we do? Henderson just radioed, and there’s like, army guys in town, going house to house. He’s heard your name and Steve’s in radio chatter, which means Steve is right. They know he’s been helping you, probably me too. It’s only a matter of time before…”

Eddie tunes out, in order to control his own ballooning panic. Then he puffs out his cheeks, steels his resolution. “You two should stay. He needs help, and he’s in no way as much trouble as I am.”

“Steve really, really doesn’t wanna be arrested. He thinks we should stick together unless there’s absolutely no choice, and… where he goes, I go.”

“Seriously?”

“I made a promise! Oh, and obviously, going on the run with two guys riddled with possibly rabid bat-bites has always been a dream of mine.”

While he searches for car-keys, Eddie considers making a solo run for it. Astonishingly, though, he simply can’t do it. “Eddie the Banished might be back,” he mutters to himself, “but he doesn’t flee from friends in need anymore.”

They haul Steve up between them, each hooking an arm over their shoulders. In the garage, they manage to wrangle him into the backseat of a Lincoln Continental that JR Ewing would be totally proud of. Like most of the Harringtons’ possessions, it makes Eddie wanna hurl. They shove the supplies in the trunk, fix a couple of bikes to the roof.

“You sure you can drive this thing?” Robin slides into the backseat, awkwardly manoeuvring Steve’s head and shoulders in her lap.

“No sweat.” Eddie beams at her, like he means it. “One issue—how does this colossus start when you don’t have to hotwire it?”

After a few minutes, and a helluva lot of grinding in the gearbox, Eddie pulls jerkily off up the driveway. After that, they barely go a block before hitting trouble. Flashing emergency vehicle lights blind them at every turn, army trucks roll by, and the quickest routes out of town have been ruined by the earthquake or roadblocked anyway. Eddie performs a clumsy U-turn and heads back the way they came.

“Shiiiiit, what we gonna do?”

 “Eddie, he’s awake, but he’s gone really cold. Steve? Steve! He’s trying to tell me something.”

“Drop him off at the nearest hospital?”

“He made me promise,” hisses Robin, though she sounds more doubtful than ever. Then, to Steve, “Shhh, take it easy. Don’t try and… huh?”

Eddie drives randomly, avoids another roadblock, where the earthquake has swallowed a whole street. Robin says, “He wants us to go toward Lover’s Lake.”

“Whut? Oh, screw it. Why not? I’ve got a creeping suspicion this is gonna end in disaster, whatever we do.”

As they drive, several more emergency vehicles tear past. Each time, Eddie’s heart lurches to his mouth, and he further trashes the Lincoln’s gearbox. Somehow, though, they reach the wooded road that leads toward the lake. Robin is in full-on panic mode: “Eddie, he’s barely breathing.”

“Okay, okay, keep calm.” Eddie’s instructing himself every bit as much as her. “We’re nearly there. Nearly there, ’kay?”

When they pull up on the closet verge to the lake, he realises they’re screwed. Searchlights streak the forest. Clearly, manpower is pouring into Hawkins from all over the State, for disaster search and rescue… and to capture and destroy satanic ol’ me. Oh, and Steve Harrington, my unlikely henchman.

He twists to where Robin is desperately cuddling Steve to her.

“Robin, there’s no way we can get him to the lake without—”

“He seems better,” she says. “He’s breathing evenly again, like he’s sleeping rather than…”

…dying? A thick lump clogs Eddie’s throat.

“…than wheezing and gasping,” she finishes. “He’s getting warmer again, too.” A flashlight streaks the hood. “Oh shit, shit, shitbirds! They’re getting near! What do we do?” 

Somebody is indeed getting waaaay too close, and Eddie is at last on a relatively clear road out of town. He makes an executive decision, presses the pedal to the metal, and drives hard into the night.

Part 4

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

tags: @estrellami-1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far.