#future mrs. pancakes

[eebie]

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

people be wondering why there's no appearance from hades in any of the sagas, especially the underworld saga (even if he wasn't in the odyssey itself) i have a theory!

spoilers for vengeance saga and future ithaca saga!

do you not understand how busy that poor guy/god is during odysseus' terrible, horrible, no good, bad journey home™

first he has 7 freshly made pancakes men (14 if you count the club smash noises in survive, but we'll go with 7 for this) sent by chef polyphemus, appearing one after the other.

not long after that, you have 550 very soaked (drowned) men pop through in the blink of an eye, no thanks to his younger brother, mr ruthlessness himself, poseidon.

then while he's still counting/organising the paperwork for them, a young man appears, who happens to be very drunk (talking about pig men?)

not long after that, somehow a warship filled with mortal men breaks into the underworld, ALL ALIVE, and the (king? leader? captain? he's not too sure at this point) starts singing outside his front door about becoming a monster????? but before he can sic cerberus on them, they leave on their own

finally he thinks he has a break when 6 men holding torches (are some missing limbs?!?) have now joined the party down under (granted they're all in no mood to party, they weren't expecting to become snacks for a sea monster)

and just as quick as they'd arrived, in a flash (just like the snap of lightning that took them out) 36 crispy/fried men (gods damn it zeus) appear, weapons drawn like they were about to attack someone (how does that one guy at the front swing such a big sword?)

at this point hades is wondering what the fuck is happening upstairs, because ain't no way these 600 men are all from the same fleet/island under one guy's command (turns out the captain's name is odysseus)

he thinks his prayers are answered because he has had peace for 7 years, just the normal flow of souls into the underworld- (wait whats that chanting)

suddenly those previous 600 souls are flying their way outta the underworld (he didn't know they could do that) while singing "six hundred men! (six hundred)" on repeat

they return though (thank the gods, he didn't need to go soul hunting) and once again he thinks everything will be calm

(he also found out from zeus, that their brother got his godly-ass handed to him by that MORTAL odysseus! WHO USED HIS OWN WEAPON AGAINST HIM (something to help make him laugh over spring & summer and while he waits for his beautiful persephone to return home))

he finally thinks his time with odysseus and the souls that come from him/being around him is over. when in minutes of each other, the souls of 108 men appear, all killed in gruesome ways. then they tell him that they were killed by beggar who then revealed himself as king odysseus, from trying to marry his wife and take over his kingdom (ok very understandable murder then)

at this point hades doesn't know whether he's excited for, or dreading the day he actually meets odysseus in the distant future (yes distant, i don't care about/ don't accept the telegony. let the poor man enjoy the rest of his life with his son and wife!!!)

but yeah, understandable why you don't hear from him throughout the sagas

[stevie-petey]

episode nine: the good

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning. Until Richard and May Harrington walk in. Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

Summary: the party battles the horrors of high school and leave you stranded, tw: applying for college is harder than fighting literal demons (you would know, youve done it), jonathan joins your nightmare blunt rotation, max worries you, and steve solidifies his position of Best Boyfriend in the World as you slowly fall apart (though is anyone really surprised ??).

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: cursing, allusions to previous character death

Words: 11.2k idk how or why i needed to say so much

Before you swing in: we're here !!! FINALLY at the end of season 3 <3333 im so so so excited to present to you the groundwork for what i have planned for season 4 ;) it will be ... a lot. the season is huge, its difficult and scary, and i did my best to try and capture its dread and ominous sense of doom in this chapter. please enjoy and bear with me as i prepare for season 4. unsure when i will be done planning her, but i PROMISE itll be worth it !!

-

“Are you sure Ms. Bote is nice?”

“Yes.”

“And that Mr. Cune won’t question the hat?”

“Yes, Dustin.”

“And you’re absolutely sure we have lunch together?”

“Yes.” You tighten the straps on your mary janes and give your brother an exasperated look. All morning he’s been freaking out about his first day of high school. You understand his fear, it’s scary starting at a new school, but you’ve answered all his questions a million times by now and Steve is supposed to be here any second. “We need to go, buddy.”

Dustin shoves a pancake into his mouth, wiping his face with the back of his hand in a disgusting manner. “Wait, but what about my backpack–”

“I have it, Dusty!” Your mother walks into the kitchen and hands it to him. She kisses his mess of curls and strokes your cheek. “Are my darlings ready for their first day of school?”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time, which your mother frowns at. 

Dustin adjusts his backpack and gives you an odd look. “Why are you nervous? It’s not like you’re being blindly thrown into a den of hormonal creatures out for blood. You’re old now, they’ll leave you alone!” 

“Trust me, the college admissions process is a worse monster than school bullies.” You grab your own backpack and start heading towards the front door. “I have to start planning what to write, I–I need more clubs, and projects, and–”

The anxiety overwhelms you. It always starts like this: talk about college, you fall down a hole of uncertainty and dread and fear. It’s been like this ever since Jonathan moved away. The minute the Byers moved, you threw yourself into preparing for college. Rationally, you know it’s your poor way of coping with all the sudden change in your life. You don’t need a psychological research journal to tell you that. In a futile attempt to control your future, you’ve become obsessed with college. 

New York University, specifically. 

Jonathan has always dreamed of attending, and when you met him, it became your dream, too. 

“Okay, dear. Settle down, now.” Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and laughs nervously. She has about five seconds before you collapse into a mess of college admissions rambling and despair. “Let’s go outside and find that wonderful Stevie!”

Your body is shoved out the front door alongside Dustin’s. Steve’s car is parked, he stands outside it, arms crossed and a grin on his face. Your body relaxes when you see him, the buzz of anxiety dims. He’s wearing his Family Video vest, the green makes his tanned skin glow.

“She’s doing it again.” Dustin tells him, tossing his backpack into the backseat.

Steve winces. He knows exactly what your brother is referring to. He’s been at the other end of far too many anxious phone calls at three in the morning. “College?”

“Yeah, she almost had a meltdown in the kitchen.”

“I can hear you both, you know.” Though you try to seem fine, keep up the annoyance, you stand next to Steve and rest your head on his shoulder anyways. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your forehead. 

Steve rubs your arm and makes a sympathetic noise. Your mother, seeing how he holds you, squeals. “Oh, stay just like that, hold on!”

“Mom, what–” But your mother ignores you and runs back inside the house. You look at Dustin, terrified. “She’s not…”

He shakes his head at you. He leans against the car next to you and crosses his arms, mimicking Steve’s earlier stance.  “She’s mom. Of course she is.”

“What are you guys talking about–” A flash of light momentarily blinds Steve, and he flinches. “Woah, alright.”

“Smile, kids!” Another camera flash, and your mother coos as you, Steve, and Dustin awkwardly shuffle into frame. It’s not that the three of you dislike being near the other, it’s the fact that it’s seven in the morning and neither you nor Dustin are ready for the day ahead. Steve smiles, though. “That’s it! Everyone say, ‘happy first day of school’!”

A mess of incoherent mumbling follows your mothers command, but she doesn’t let it bother her. She takes a million pictures, preens when she sees Steve smile even wider, and she has to hold back tears. Her babies are all grown up. Dustin is a freshman now, and you’re a senior.

“Alright, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve has to quickly blink, trying to regain his eyesight. He adores the woman, he knows he’s become her favorite, but he really needs to get you to school before his shift at Family Video starts. “I have no doubt you’ve already taken the best picture ever.”

“Aw, just one more–”

“Mom.” Dustin clears his throat, urging her to stop, and she sighs. 

Your mother kisses Dustin’s head, then yours, and wishes you a good first day before getting into her own car to drive to work. “Bye, kids!”

You all wave at her, and Steve opens the car door for you. Once you’re seated, he goes to the driver’s side and tells Dustin to get in the back. The engine starts, soft music plays from Steve’s radio, and soon the three of you are driving towards Hawkins high. 

“No Robin?” You ask Steve after a few minutes of silence. He’s grown rather close to the girl, working together all summer, so you had expected her to drive with you guys to school. When you and him officially got together, Robin made the two of you promise that you wouldn’t abandon her. It was an irrational fear, you love Robin dearly, but you made sure to spend time with her and Steve equally anyways. 

“She has band practice this morning,” Steve responds. “So it’s just me and the Hendersons today.”

Dustin shoves his head in between the two of you. His seatbelt strains against his chest, but he doesn’t care. He’s on a mission to get as much information as he possibly can. He refuses to go into high school blind and pathetic. “Steve, you were once popular.”

“Why the past tense? I mean, I’d consider myself still pretty well liked–”

“I need you to tell me what you did that led to your demise so I can avoid doing the same.”

You snort and Steve sighs. The kid really keeps him humble. He stops at a light, looks at Dustin through the rearview mirror, and shakes his head. “What makes you think it was anything I did?”

“Kid’s got a point,” you say from the passenger seat. Steve gives you an offended look and you raise your hands in surrender. “Hey, all I’m saying is that I also don’t really know what happened. You’ve got a track record of pissing off the wrong people. One minute you were King Steve, the next you were shunned.”

Steve groans. “You people have no faith in me.” He can feel you and Dustin staring at him, unbelieving. He hates when the two of you team up against him; it makes it harder for him to lie. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to tell you what happened. Not because he’s embarrassed, or ashamed, even. 

He knows it will only upset you. Reopen wounds. 

But you and Dustin keep staring at Steve and there’s still at least ten minutes left of the drive. Weighing his options, Steve figures it’s best if he just tells the truth. Like ripping off a bandaid, knowing the pain will be there regardless of how long you stall. “Okay, fine.” He scratches his nose, clears his throat. “It was, uh. Because of Billy.”

The temperature in the car drops. It’s suddenly ice cold. 

Dustin slowly leans back against his seat. Steve faces ahead, eyes on the road, but he watches you from his periphery. No one has mentioned Billy since his death, at least not in front of you or Max. 

Especially Max. 

They wait for you to react. To tense up, ball your hands into fists and wipe away tears. They expect the guilt you’ve barely kept hidden to resurface, but you don’t do any of that. Instead, you surprise them. “Can’t believe you let a mullet defeat you.”

Steve isn’t sure if he’s allowed to laugh at first, worried it’s some bizarre test of yours. But he sees the smile on your face, albeit forced and terse, but he knows you’re trying. So he plays along, relieved that you’re doing what you can. “I don’t know, I thought the mullet looked pretty good.”

“Get a mullet and see how fast I leave you.”

Dustin nods in agreement, Steve shakes his head with a laugh, and the temperature in the car returns. There’s still a slight chill in the air, there will always be a slight chill, but you pull your jacket tighter around you and ignore it. 

When you get to the school, Dustin stares at the hounds of teens all walking through the parking lot. He gulps, tightens his hands around his backpack, and you try to ease his apprehension. 

“Hey, look at me.” He does, and you extend your arm, offering a handshake. Dustin eyes you wearily, but reluctantly he shakes your hand. You nod at him, hand firm around his. “It’s just you and me. And Lucas. Max, too. Unfortunately, possibly Mike. Copy?”

“Copy.” Dustin releases your hand and salutes you. He pushes his hat down, takes a deep breath, and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Let’s go.”

“Good luck, little Henderson.” Steve salutes him as well before turning to you. He presses his lips to yours, hums, a soft smile on his face. “And good luck, angel.”

Ignoring Dustin’s dramatic gagging in the back, you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile back at him. “Thanks, honey. Have a good day at work.”

Dustin nearly falls out of the car with how fast he scrambles out of it. He’s about to ban all forms of physical affection between you and Steve. It’s disgusting. No one wants to see any of that. You follow after your brother and exit the car.

You only make it a few feet before Steve rolls down the car window and shouts, “I love you!”

A few students in the parking lot turn, and their faces contort into shock when they see none other than Steve Harrington. He waves at them, cocky as always, and you’re both mortified and so in love. He may have lost his crown, but he will always be the king. While Dustin ducks his head down in embarrassment, you wink at Steve. “I love you, too!”

“You’re going to be the reason I end up getting thrown into a dumpster on my first day.”

“Aw, is Dusty-bun jealous?”

“Go die.”

–

The entire day it feels like you’re missing something. 

When you get to homeroom, there isn’t a seat saved for you at the front. When the physics teacher drops his chalk five times within the first five minutes, there isn’t anyone to tease you for your poorly contained snicker. In the library, you’re forced to sit in a corner because there’s no one to share the plush sofa with. 

There’s no one who whispers answers to you during calculus. No one who hooks their foot around your desk’s leg. No one who doodles in your notebook just to get you to laugh. 

Jonathan’s absence is palpable. 

You knew it would feel weird, starting senior year without him, but you didn’t think it’d feel so lonely, either. Empty. Unfinished. 

By the time lunch comes, you’re slowly losing your mind. You need someone to talk to. Robin and Nancy don’t share any classes with you, Jonathan had been your only real friend at Hawkins, and now you’re paying the price. 

You’re the first one at the lunch table, which you figure is a good thing. Earlier in the week you and the party had all agreed to sit together at lunch, you’d been excited to finally share the same school building as them. However, you hadn’t wanted to hover over them. You wanted them to branch out, meet new people, so lunch was your agreed upon time with them. 

The lunch room fills with students and you wait anxiously for the rest of the party. You’re excited to see them, ask how their days are going, maybe even gossip about the freshmen, but when they arrive it’s almost as if a tornado rips right through you. 

“There you are!” Dustin finds you first and slides into the seat next to you, nearly causing you to face plant into the ground. “Look, we gotta talk.”

You frown. “Okay, is everything–”

“We can’t stay and eat.” Mike cuts to the chase, not even bothering to sit down. Lucas stands behind him, quiet and nervous.

“What, why?”

“Eddie Munson wants to meet us.” Dustin says the boy’s name as if you should know him. But you don’t, and now you’re really confused. What does he have to do with any of this?

“Eddie…?”

Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Eddie Munson, Hellfire club, DnD?” When he sees that nothing he’s saying makes any sense to you, he huffs. “Seriously, do you not know anything?”

You throw a chip at him, hurt. “I was in choir, not some stupid DnD club.”

“Hellfire club isn’t stupid–”

“Anyways!” Dustin cuts the fight short. There isn’t time for you and Mike to argue right now. “Eddie is the dungeon master, and he’s recruiting us to join his party! We–we gotta go and meet him, Y/N. He doesn’t just let plebe freshmen like us join.”

“He’s legendary.” Mike says, and sadly you know he means it. It’s not often someone has the boy’s full admiration. Mike is hard to impress, and this Eddie guy seems to have him wrapped around his finger already.

Dustin stares up at you, eyes pleading to understand, and you know you can’t ruin this for him. Only hours ago he had been terrified of his first day, and now he’s almost vibrating with excitement over the possibility of joining some club. There will be people there like him, others interested in what he loves, and you can’t let your own loneliness ruin that. 

“Well,” you clear your throat, try to appear excited for the boys. “Go see Eddie, then.”

“You sure?” Dustin doesn’t want to just leave, he knows you were looking forward to lunch today. He’ll stay if you need him to, he’s sure Mike can talk his way in with Eddie. 

You smile at him, force your voice to be light. They’re growing up. You all are. “I’m sure, it’s your first day. You’re supposed to be joining a bunch of clubs, it’s a good way to make friends. I’m proud of you. Seriously.”

Dustin isn’t entirely convinced, but Mike has already grabbed his arm to go and find Eddie. He turns to Lucas, beckons him to follow. “C’mon, dude.”

“I’ll-uh. Follow in a sec.” Mike gives him an odd look, but Lucas is already sitting down next to you. Seeing this, Mike gives up and leaves with Dustin. As soon as they’re gone, Lucas lowers his voice and leans in close to you. “Hey, do you, uh. Know Jason Carver?”

The scent of chocolate ice cream infiltrates your nose, the sound of it colliding into the teen’s pants rings in your ears. The memory of it is tangible, and you have to hold back a laugh. Yeah, you know Jason Carver. “I mean, we aren’t friends, but we know each other. Why?”

“Do you…” Lucas looks around, making sure Mike and Dustin really are gone, before he continues. “Do you think he’d let me join the basketball team?”

You’re surprised. Sure, Lucas has always shown an interest in the sport. He plays with Steve sometimes, they trade cards, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in the school’s team. “Oh.” Then, you realize why he’s stayed behind. “You don’t want to join Hellfire, do you?”

“I know I’m just a freshman, and–and Mike would probably call me dumb for wanting to even try out, but. I don’t know. I think… I think I could be really good on the team. Might make high school easier.”

“Then you should go for it,” you reassure Lucas. He’s always been so careful to not upset others. He’s loyal, down to his very core, you understand the fear that doing something for yourself brings. “Jason isn’t so bad. A bit much, but kind. He’s a team player, and I think they'd be lucky to have someone like you.”

Lucas smiles shyly at you. “Really?”

“Really. Now, go and find the guy. Ask him when try-outs are, and I’ll talk to Steve about practicing more with you. How’s that sound?”

“You’re the best!” Lucas gives you a quick hug, already getting out of his seat, and runs right into Max. They collide, he manages to save her from falling, and he laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, you okay?”

Max nods, silent, and immediately you and Lucas know that today is one of her bad days. Her eyes are sunken in, it doesn’t look like she got any sleep last night. She sits down next to you, and you nod at Lucas, signaling to him that it’s okay if he leaves. You’ll take care of her. 

Lucas hesitates, unsure, but reluctantly leaves when you nod at him once more, urging. If it was anyone else, he would stay, but it’s you. Besides Lucas, you’re the only other person Max talks to. You’ll stay with her, Lucas deserves to go and branch out like Mike and Dustin are.

“So, did you know about Lucas wanting to join the basketball team?” You turn to Max once the boy has left. She shrugs, picks at the food in front of her. It’s the most response you’ll get from her, and you sigh. “You don’t want to be here either, do you?”

She looks up at you, alarmed that you caught on so fast, and you just shake your head at her. You dig into your backpack, take out some cookies you baked the night before. They were supposed to be for all the kids today, but they’ve all left and Max needs them more right now. “Here, take these. Go to the left stairwell, next to the choir room. No one goes there during lunch, it’s quiet.”

“Thank you,” Max exhales with relief, taking the baked goods from you. Tears lump in her throat, she doesn’t know how you always manage to do this. To see through her, always say the right thing. 

“Of course, my dear.” You risk touching her face, she’s cold, but she closes her eyes and breathes in at the comfort. “I expect to see you at Bookstrordinary after school today, though.”

Somehow Max laughs, and the action hurts her to do so. It’s becoming harder and harder to bear the sound of her own happiness. But she nods at you, understanding that it’s an order she can’t disobey, and leaves. 

Then it’s just you at the lunch table. Alone. 

Nancy is at yearbook, she’s told you all about her grand plan of reforming the club into something more than just homecoming polls and gossip panels. Robin is at yet another band practice, preparing for the annual back to school pep rally later this week. Steve is at Family Video, bored out of his mind, both of you wishing he were here instead. 

And Jonathan is across the country, at an entirely different school, aching to be near you again. 

The thought of him in California only intensifies the loneliness that you feel. The feeling overwhelms you, and before it can swallow you whole, you dig through your backpack once more. Your fingers shake as you rustle through the notebooks and textbooks, and they clutch desperately at your walkman when you finally find it. The mixtape Jonathan made for you before he left sits within it. 

You quickly place the headphones over your head, muffling the sounds of the cafeteria around you. Your fingers find the play button with practiced ease, and soon the beginning notes of the Beatles play through the wire and into your headphones.

The song soothes you, it quiets what you don’t want to hear; it makes you smile. The mixtape is all you’ve been listening to ever since Jonathan left. Though it can never replace his presence, it’s enough for now. 

You stare at the empty seats around you. John Lennon’s voice floats through your ears. 

Welcome to senior year.

– 

Miraculously, it’s Nancy you lean on the most as the autumn leaves turn orange and the summer’s heat dies down. She finds you later during your first week, grabbing lunch from your locker, and she stops you. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to spend another lunch alone.” Nancy has never been one to greet someone. She always gets straight to the point, a quality that you normally admire.

However, you feel embarrassment rise within you, slightly off put by the cruel words. Sure, you’re not necessarily thrilled that you’ve spent your first few days of senior year alone, but you didn’t need Nancy reminding you of that. “Hello to you too, Nance.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean to offend you.” She holds her notebook close to her chest and looks down in shame. It’s weird, there’s a distance between you that has only seemed to widen despite how hard the two of you try to bridge it. For a while things were good, great, even. She was genuinely your friend, but sometimes insecurities can hurt the ones people love the most. 

“Not really sure how I was meant to take that.” You close your locker and try to excuse yourself. You’re exhausted, you hardly slept the night before. “Look, I should go. I stayed up all night working on stupid college applications and I just… I’m tired.”

Nancy’s posture straightens, eager to grab onto any opportunity to amend things with you. “I can read over whatever you have.” When you raise your eyebrows at her, she quickly backtracks, worried she’s overstepped. “I–I mean, that is, if you want. Not that you need the help! It’s just–”

She forces herself to stop. She’s rushing her words, messing it all up. Her shoulders drop, Nancy takes a deep breath and looks you in the eye. She never apologized for her words earlier this summer. The way she sneered venom at you, but she’s carried the guilt of it ever since. “I’m… trying. I promise I am.”

Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers have never handled vulnerability well. It’s what made you stand out against them, set you apart, and you can’t help but find this quality in them endearing. You know that Nancy is trying to go back to how things were, before one phone call between the two of you revealed the unspoken resentment she held. 

You never blamed her for any of it. But you know she blames herself, and Jonathan’s absence doesn’t help; both of you miss him, neither of you can afford to lose anyone else. 

So you try as well.

“I’ll let you read over what I have only if you let me read what you’ve written as well.” You nudge her shoulder with yours, getting her to finally smile. “I’m curious to see what that brain of yours has thought of already.”

Nancy laughs, relieved. “Definitely nothing as creative as whatever you’ve written.”

“We’ll see about that, Wheeler.”

Soon you find yourself in the yearbook room. Nancy introduces you to some kid named Fred, who moons over her the entire time you’re there, though she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy reading through your ideas, and you find yourself admiring her side profile. The way her eyelashes kiss her brows, the soft cherry on her lips.

Nancy is beautiful. You understand how Jonathan and Fred and Steve and countless other guys in Hawkins have lost their minds over her. 

You read through portions of Nancy’s writing, and the two of you sit quietly side by side editing the essays. She marks some things down, crosses out some lines, and you do the same. It’s lovely, being by her side again. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed her following the events of this summer. 

“So, New York University, huh?” Nancy eventually breaks the silence.

You nod, humming as you skim over a line that you particularly like. Circling it, you respond. “Yeah, it’s been my dream school ever since I was young.”

Though you’re applying to other schools as well. A few state schools, some in Virginia, close to your father. But New York is truly where you hope you’ll be next fall.

“Jonathan mentioned that you like psychology, right?”

“Yup,” you cross out an extra word. “Particularly child psychology. Figured that after everything we’ve been through, especially the kids, it’d be useful if at least one of us has any idea what’s going on inside our minds.”

Nancy chuckles. “Fair.”

It falls quiet again, but you don’t want the peace to end. “I heard from Jonathan that you’re looking into Emerson.”

“He tells you everything, doesn’t he?” Though this time Nancy’s question is asked with fondness, slight exasperation and humor mixed in.

“Mhm, we’re a package deal. You tell one of us something, then the other is bound to know eventually.” You look up at Nancy and lightly touch her arm. “Though he still keeps some things from me when it comes to you, don’t worry.”

She laughs again, and finally you allow the silence to settle upon you. It’s a comfortable one. There isn’t a tension underlying it. For the first time in a long time, you’re able to simply sit next to Nancy and feel that she wants you there with her. 

After that day, you and Nancy spend almost every lunch period helping each other with your applications. 

Steve helps you, too. In his own ways. 

While he can’t help you write the essays, he lets you call him at two in the morning to rattle off application ideas so you won’t forget them. He doesn’t complain when you wake him up and he has an early shift the next day. Instead, he listens. Steve offers you his own tired input and indulges in whatever you need to feel that you’ll succeed; he’s the most doting, patient boyfriend you could ever ask for. 

And, secretly, Steve adores it. Especially when you call him some nights just to have him come over and hold you. 

Those are his favorite nights. Tonight is one of them.

“Why does college exist?” Your cheek is pressed against Steve’s chest as you lay in your bed together. The steady rise and fall of his breathing is melodic. 

He plays with a strand of your hair, you feel him shrug. “‘Dunno, but you’re almost done.”

“Yeah, just have one more application to send before I get to spend four agonizing months waiting to find out if I even get in. How fun.” Sarcasm drips from your lips. You’ve spent the last two months obsessing over it all, which words to write in your essays, which clubs to join, which teachers to beg for recommendation letters. 

And now you have one application left. Then you’ll be forced to wait, without any control of the inevitable outcome. 

You’ve never been someone comfortable with letting go of control. 

“Everything will be fine, angel. NYU would be stupid not to let you in.” Steve reassures you with a kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, the tip of your nose, the dip of your brows. As he kisses you, he envisions doing this a year from now, in a small, rundown apartment with sirens wailing outside and a fire escape that creaks in the wind. The song of New York City. 

Eventually Steve’s lips will find yours, and the conversation will be long forgotten. It’s how most of your nights end now, lost in the kisses as his breath mixes with yours. Hands will wander. Sighs will leave parted mouths. Quiet, soft, aware of the precariously thin walls. 

You haven't slept with Steve, at least not yet. Though you’ve been together a few months now, it still feels too soon. He’s your first boyfriend, your first kiss, your first real love, and Steve doesn’t want to rush you. If all you ever do together is lazily kiss and breathe each other in, then Steve will happily part your lips with his and draw soft sighs out from you.

In the morning you’ll awake with Steve’s lips on your neck, his eyes shining up at you, and in the morning sunlight, before you’ve fully woken up, the air between you is sacred. 

–

“I sent in my final application,” you’re whispering, not wanting to wake up your mom who has fallen asleep on the couch. It’s nearly midnight in Indiana, but in California it’s only nine and Jonathan has just finished his school work for the night. “NYU, it’s done.”

On the other end you hear shuffling as Jonathan leans against his kitchen wall. Will sits at the table with El, he sketches the early stages of a painting and she studies grammar. Jonathan watches them, his mom is in bed, and he forgets for a moment that he’s on the phone with you.

“Bee?” You say the childhood name so softly, so tenderly with concern, and it brings Jonathan back to himself. 

“I’m here, sorry.” He clears his throat, his head is still slightly muffled. Jonathan met a guy in woodshop this week, his name is Argyle, and somehow during lunch he found himself in the back of the guy’s van with a blunt hanging loosely from his lips. The smoke dulled the ache of missing Nancy, of missing you. Jonathan can’t tell you this, though. You’d kill him, and he hates disappointing you. “What were you saying?”

You frown slightly, he sounds different. There’s something in his voice, it’s raspy and he sounds distant. The sound is lonely, he sounds lonely. Jonathan isn’t really here, despite the fact that he’s talking to you. The last few phone calls have been like this. You don’t know what to do.  

When Jonathan left, the two of you promised to call each other every Friday, a compromise. A way to create distance, yet tether you to each other. Jonathan calls you every Friday, Nancy gets him every day the rest of the week, and it works. This is how it’s always been ever since early September.

At first you guys would talk about how your weeks had gone. Jonathan would complain about the California heat and you would tell him about how Mike and Lucas had crashed your date with Steve one night. Laughter would float over the telephone lines. Teasing, whispered “I miss you’s” and spoken goodbyes with the promise of talking again next week. 

But last week when you called, the teasing was gone. The laughter was minimal. You had complained about an exam that day and Jonathan had given one word responses that had worried you. It had been odd, but you thought that maybe he’d been tired that day. Everyone has a bad day, you know this.

Yet it’s Friday again and Jonathan couldn’t feel farther away from you.

“I mailed my NYU application in, bee. You send in yours yet?” Voice light, cheery. You do what you can to try and keep him afloat. You try to grasp at the good that’s left between you. Remind Jonathan that you’re right here, still with him, without scaring him away. “You remember our plan, right? Me and you in New York, together.”

Since you were kids the plan has always been to go to college together. Back then, neither of you could fathom a reason to ever be apart. You were invincible, the same way all kids think they are before the world tells them otherwise. 

But you and Jonathan aren’t invincible, you never were. 

You can hear the way your question suffocates him. The breath that he holds, stilted and torn, suffocates you as well. 

Nausea punches Jonathan, the smoke from earlier suddenly fogs his throat. He doesn’t know what to do. Nancy wants him to go to Emerson with her, he promised you NYU when he was twelve, and California has his mother and Will.

“Yeah, yeah. I–I mean, I sent mine in. Last week.”

Jonathan is lying. You’ve known him for almost six years; he always stumbles over his words when he lies.  

Part of you wants to ask him why he’s doing this, lying to you and pulling away. Another part of you, the larger, more naive part, doesn’t want to believe it. You clear your throat, swallow down the hurt, and choose naivety. “Oh,” your tone is too pinched, too put together. You clear your throat again. “That’s–that’s great! I, um. Surprised you didn’t read the essays to me. Have me edit them, like we’ve always done.”

Jonathan leans his head against the wall and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s never been able to lie to you, he knows you’re desperately trying to overcompensate, as you always do. He hates it. He hates himself. “Yeah, well. Got excited, I guess.”

You hum, words failing you, and the line goes silent.

Dread replaces the laughter that night.

– 

Before you know it, it’s Halloween and the party has infiltrated Steve’s house. 

The holiday falls on a Saturday, and the party deems itself too old to trick or treat. When they find out that Steve’s parents won’t be home that weekend, they demand to spend the night at his house and watch horror movies.

Steve fights back, complains that he doesn’t want them taking over his living room, but his complaints fall on deaf ears. That, and Dustin ropes Robin into their plans. 

“Oh, God. Don’t open the door!” Dustin shrieks, throwing popcorn at Steve’s TV as he covers his eyes with a blanket. He cowers against Lucas, who shoves him off, and Mike snickers. Max sits on the couch, outside of their fort, and watches the boys. None of them try to get her to sit with them. They know they’re lucky that she even showed in the first place. 

“I can’t look.” Robin’s voice carries over, you can almost picture her cringing as she holds a pillow to her chest. Mike chose a particularly gory movie, and the kid’s mind frightens her.

A loud crash sounds, then a woman screams. You figure the protagonist did open the door and has now died, though you can’t be sure. You’re in the kitchen with Steve, taking out the final batch of oatmeal raisin cookies from the oven. The smell wafts through the home, bringing warmth to a house that Steve has always found cold, and he places his hands on your hips. 

“You spoil the kids too much,” he presses his nose against your cheek and kisses you. “They invade my home and you bake them delicious goods.”

You set the tray of cookies down onto the counter. “As if the cookies aren’t for you, too.”

“That isn’t important. We’re focusing on my hostage house, Y/N.”

“‘Hostage house’, quite the alliteration there.”

Steve now kisses your neck, distracting you as you plate the cookies. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 

“Don’t make me come in there!” Dustin screams, and Robin echoes him with her own disgusted yelling. 

You laugh at their theatrics while Steve rolls his eyes. He really hates that his house has become the party’s source of entertainment. He just wants to compliment his beautiful girlfriend in peace. Who would punish a guy for that?

In his moping Steve almost misses you walking back into the living room. He follows, stumbles over his feet, never wanting to be more than a few inches away from you. You’re magnetic, always pulling him in. 

Mike is the first to grab a handful of cookies. Lucas and Dustin follow quickly after. They shove the food into their mouths and you scoff at their lack of manners. They’re such boys, growing taller every day, and they’re just as disgusting as they were when they were kids. 

“Want one, Max?” You hold the plate up to her, noticing that she hasn’t moved from her seat. She shakes her head at you, eyes never leaving the screen. Lucas and you share a look, the same concerned expression on your faces. 

The moment is broken by Robin, who grabs a cookie and practically melts. “Holy shit, Y/N. You bake these regularly?”

“Usually once a week,” you shrug at her. “Though I once baked six batches during finals week.”

“God, that was a good week.” Dustin hums, lost in the blissful memory.

Robin grabs your arm, eyes wide with enthusiasm. “I will give you my firstborn child in exchange for my own batch of cookies.”

Steve pokes her shoulder. “You already promised your firstborn to me after I agreed to cover your weekend shift.”

“I can have twins.”

You laugh at her. “That’s a terrifying thought.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at you, causing you to laugh even more, and Mike puts the next movie on. Everyone settles back down, you lay with Steve in the lovechair with Robin in front of you. Max has the couch to herself, the boys are sprawled on the floor in a mess of pillows and blankets, and for the first time in months you feel a certain warmth having your family together. 

Sometime during the night the clock strikes twelve. 

It’s November 1st, 1985. 

Steve’s nineteenth birthday. 

Robin snores softly on the ground, arm underneath her head as a makeshift pillow. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas are all curled up against one another, their faces young again. Max sleeps softly on the couch, her hand dangles over the edge, grazing Lucas’ outstretched arm and open palm. 

Steve lays beneath you, he isn’t quite asleep yet. You’ve come to learn the rhythm of his breaths as he sleeps. The way they slow, the pattern steady. You lift your head up, wanting to admire him, and find that he’s already looking at you. 

“Hi, angel.” He whispers, smiling sweetly. 

You smile back, you always smile back at him. “Hi, honey.” Doing your best to remain quiet, you crawl up the length of Steve and nuzzle your way into his neck. You kiss the dip just above his collarbone, causing him to shiver. “Happy birthday.”

Arms encase you, pull you deeper into the body you lay on. Steve’s body heat warms your face, warms your bones, and you wish you could stay like this forever. In Steve’s arms, the scent of him overwhelming your mind, his touch calming you. 

“Thank you,” he kisses the top of your head. He lingers, his lips soft. The two of you stay like this, his head against yours, your chin tucked into the alcove of his neck. Your breathing syncs with his, his fingers trail up and down your spine. Your fingers splay over his chest, warming his ribs. 

In the morning, Max wakes everyone up. 

“My mom will be worried,” she kicks Mike, nudges Lucas’ shoulder. “Wake up, idiots.” 

Steve groans, squinting his eyes against the morning light. He tries to roll over and block it out and nearly shoves you off the seat in the process. “Steve!” He manages to catch you in his sleepy state, but his movements are slow. 

“Sorry!”

You clutch your chest, heart pounding. “You’ve done that way too many times now. I’m starting to think you want to throw me onto the ground.”

“Lucas once promised he could catch me if I jumped into his arms.” Max says, then she points to a scar on her knee. “Turned out he couldn’t.” 

“Hey!” Lucas sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I really thought I could do it.”

Mike stretches. “Your fault for trusting him, Max.”

Lucas shoves him and the two start to wrestle on the floor. They’re a tangle of lanky limbs, knocking into Dustin who still hasn’t woken up yet. They roll on top of the boy, and he wakes up to Lucas’ knee in his face. “What the hell?”

Dustin joins the fighting now, and Robin throws a pillow at them. “Guys! It’s too early for this!”

They don’t listen. 

It takes a lot of pleading, negotiating, and bribes in order to break the fight up. It takes even longer to wrangle the kids out of Steve’s home, much to his dismay. They leave a mess of strewn popcorn all over the carpet and pillows missing feathers. You stay behind, offering to help clean the mess, and Robin rushes out an apology and happy birthday to Steve as she runs out the door to get to work. 

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning.

Until Richard and May Harrington walk in.

Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

“Dad!” Steve immediately bends down to pick you up, endlessly apologetic. He ducks his head, eyes on you, though his body doesn’t turn from his father. “I’m sorry, angel. You alright?”

You reassure your boyfriend that you’re fine, more worried about the fact that you’re dressed in clothes from yesterday with horrendous bedhead meeting his parents for the first time. Richard eyes you in Steve’s arms. He has a look of disinterest on his face. “Son.”

“What, uh.” Steve clears his throat, curls a protective arm around your waist. He didn’t mean for this to happen. His parents were supposed to be gone until Tuesday. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” 

“Right.”

Father and son stand in front of one another. Neither speaks. Steve feels like a little boy again, scrutinized underneath his father’s intense gaze. Never good enough. Never worthy of anything other than berating and lectures. 

You wring your hands nervously, unsure what to do. The air is thick. Steve looks so much like his father, it’s almost uncanny. They have the same build, the same moles that dot along their handsome faces. Only his father is dressed in a suit, the lines in his face are hard, weathered. He’s who you picture Steve would’ve been, in a different universe where you were never his friend. 

May Harrington gave her son all of her delicate features. The soft turn of his nose. The plush, pink lips. His doe eyes, his smile. The only feature that separates her from her son is her honey blonde hair. She’s beautiful, elegant and poised, and when she steps towards you, you can smell lavender perfume. “You must be Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.” You’re quick to meet her where she stands. You’re nervous, you have to discreetly wipe your hand on your pants before shaking hers. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Your banana bread is lovely.”

The woman smiles, it’s so much like Steve’s that you want to cry. “Thank you, dear.”

“Of course, and I apologize for meeting like this. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Richard makes a mean, gruff sound. He shakes his head, steps next to his wife. He doesn’t like you, you can feel it by the way he blocks his wife’s view of you. “Oh, no. I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Dad–” Steve steps forward as well, blocking his father’s view of you. He’s angry, his shoulder blades close together. He doesn’t like how the man is treating you; you’re too good for such cruelty.

“What did I tell you about bringing your hookups to the house, son?” Richard sneers, turning his nose up at you. That’s all he sees you as. Just another one of Steve’s flings, one of the girls from his past. 

“Y/N is not just some hookup,” Steve clenches his jaw, tries to steady his breathing. He doesn’t want to fight with his dad in front of you. Not when he was having such a good morning, spending his birthday with your hands wrapped around his neck and your giggles singing in his ears. “She’s my girlfriend, and I love her.”

Richard chuckles, he doesn’t believe his son. “Okay, you love her. I’m sure your mother and I will walk in on you with some new girl next week.”

“Dear,” May places a hand on her husband’s shoulder. She sees the way you shrink into yourself at the man’s words. The insecurity that he brings. She sees how her son’s eyes ignite with fury, she watches as he does whatever he can to put the flame out for her sake and your’s. “It’s Steve’s birthday today.”

“Is that why you insisted on coming home today?” Richard turns to her, she has his full attention now. His eyebrows are drawn together, annoyance paints his body. “You told me you had a board meeting tonight.” 

“Why don’t we talk about this upstairs?” May suggests, relieved that she’s turned her husband’s anger onto herself rather than her son. Richard sighs, but he doesn’t argue as he marches up the stairs without so much as a second glance towards you. When he’s gone, May smiles at you sympathetically. “I apologize for my husband’s behavior. We had a long flight, I’m sure he’s simply jetlagged.” 

“Yeah, that’s why he’s such an asshole.” Steve scoffs, tired of his mother’s excuses for her husband. He can be cruel to Steve, he doesn’t care. He’s been cruel to him his entire life. But if his father so much as breathes near you again, Steve will hurt him. 

Your hand reaches for Steve’s, sensing what he’s thinking. You return May’s smile, you’re not at all angry with her. “It’s okay, really. I was an unexpected guest, and I should go.”

Steve pulls you into his chest. “What, no–”

“You may leave, if you’d like.” His mother gently interrupts him. “Though I must admit, I really do wish to know you better. If you’d allow me to, that is.”

“I’d love that more than anything.”

“Then I will plan a dinner for the next time my husband and I are in town.” May tells you, admiring your honesty. She can see why Steve has become so infatuated with you. There’s nothing hidden within you; you wear your heart on your sleeve, your sincerity a welcomed rarity. She turns to her son, rests her palm delicately against his face. “Happy birthday, my beautiful boy.”

Steve leans into her touch, weak for his mother as any son is. You turn away, it doesn’t feel right to watch this moment between them. 

In the car Steve profusely apologizes for his father’s behavior. Over and over again, he laments how sorry he is and that you’re more than just some fling to him. “You’re everything to me, angel. I love you so, so much.”

“I know, honey.” You grab his hand that rests against the stick shift. His father’s words had hurt, but you knew that they weren’t true. Steve is your’s, he has been for longer than either of you realize. Nothing will ever undo the love he has for you, the foundation of trust it was built upon. “You’re everything to me, too.”

When Steve pulls into your driveway, you tell him to park and come inside. His birthday gift is in your room. You had planned to give it to him later tonight, but his parents’ unexpected arrival had soured things. “I know you have to go home, but…”

“I’ll never say no to you.” Steve’s already unbuckling his seatbelt to follow you inside. He greets your mother with a kiss to her cheek, ruffles Dustin’s hair as he sits at the dining table doing homework. His movements are easy, leisurely. You notice now how at home he is in yours, far from the boy who cowered before his father only twenty minutes ago. The realization is bittersweet. He deserves to feel at home in his own house, not just yours. 

Inside your room Steve sits on your bed and holds his hand out, eager. “Okay, wow me, Henderson.”

“You really know how to talk to a woman.” You tease him, rustling through your drawer to find the gift you’ve hidden. Steve is nosy, he’s been trying to find his gift for at least two weeks now. When you’ve found it, you clutch the gift in your hand and hold it behind your back. “Alright, you know the drill by now. Close your eyes.”

Steve complies with a smirk, biting back suggestive comments. He loves this tradition with you, making the other close their eyes before their gift. Something light is placed in Steve’s hand. It’s circular, sturdy. He thinks he can smell leather.

“Okay, open.”

In his hand is a bracelet. It’s a simple strip of leather, nothing embellishes it besides a button to secure it. Though it’s plain, Steve can tell that it’s expensive. The leather is supple, its color is dark and polished. The silver button that clasps the two ends together is heavy.

He loves it, he does, but he can’t help feeling like that there must be something more to it.

As if reading his mind, you gently prompt Steve to turn it over in his hands. “Look what’s on the inside, honey.”

He does, and his heart stops.

The leather has been stamped. The word constants is spelled out across the length of the band. It’s a hidden message, only for Steve to know, and while he’s sure you have your own explanation for why you chose the word constants, he loves it already. “Oh.”

You sit next to him and laugh softly. “You’re my constant, Steve. Everything in my life has changed, or will change, but you… You’ve always been there, I know you’ll always be there. With me. My love, my lucky charm, my constant.”

Tears well in Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t bother wiping them away, too busy admiring the bracelet in his hand. He can’t believe you’re real, that you’ve thought of this for him. That you see a future with him… It’s everything he could’ve asked for. A security he’s always longed to have. His entire life he’s been told he’s too much, too overwhelming, and yet you want him to stay anyways. 

“And you’re my constant?” He asks you, fingers grazing over the letters again.

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “Well, I’d like to think that I am.”

He laughs, wet and full of love, and he can’t take it anymore. Steve throws his arms over you and you collapse into your bed, laughing together as he presses his lips wherever they can reach. 

“You are,” he says in between kisses. Your laughter lights him. “You’re my constant, too.”

–

The autumn leaves fall and the trees are barren as winter arrives. 

You spend winter break trying to maintain your promise to Joyce. After finishing the hell that was applying to college, you have so much unexpected free time that at first you don't know what to do. But then her words echo in your mind, the promise to live the life that you deserve, so you start doing things for yourself.

Slowly you read through all the books in your room that you hadn't had time for before. You start running again in the mornings, the winter air crisp in your lungs. You and Dustin do homework together at the kitchen table, making sure neither of you get left behind. You try new recipes to bake, delivering the treats to the ones you love. It’s nice, rediscovering the pleasures you once had long before the Upside Down came into your life. 

Christmas comes and you do your annual rounds, delivering everyone’s favorite treats on Christmas Eve. It’s during your run to the Sinclair home that Lucas asks you to come inside to talk. 

“What’s up?” You ask him, unwrapping your scarf and warming your hands in your sleeves. Lucas gestures to his kitchen table, silently asking you to sit. When you do, he takes a deep breath and joins you. 

Something’s bothering him. You can see it in the way he carries a weight on his shoulders. How they droop as he sits, exhausted. You reach across the table and grab his hand, offering whatever comfort you can give him. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

“It’s…” Lucas purses his lips, his breath shakes. “It’s Max. I’m–I’m worried about her.”

He tells you everything. He tells you how distant she’s been, more than she’s ever been before. He tells you how she’s missed dates he’s planned for her, how she refuses to talk to him anymore. She hasn’t been to any of the party’s hangouts, Mike and Dustin haven’t seen her ever since winter break started.

Max has had bad days, weeks, even months since losing Billy. But she’s never had the bad days without at least one good day following. To break the monotonous cycle of self-loathing and grief and guilt. She would always come back, even if for a moment, alive and bright and reminiscent of the girl had been. 

“I can feel her slipping away,” Lucas looks down at the table. He’s afraid that if he looks at you then he’ll start crying. He doesn’t want you to worry, he knows how much you already deal with and do for them, but he’s terrified. “I know… I know that you helped Will, after he was flayed. Do you think you could maybe talk to Max? Just… Remind her that we’re here for her? I can’t–I can’t lose her.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours, trying to stem the stream of tears he fought so hard to force down. Lucas loves Max with everything within him. Anyone can see that. You’d do anything to bring the girl back to him, to bring her back to all of you. “I’ll talk to her.”

I’ll keep an eye on her. Watch her when you can’t. 

Lucas hears it. He exhales, nods his head.

You leave. Max was the next one on your list of deliveries anyways. 

It’s nearing dusk by the time you get to the trailer park. You haven’t seen Max’s new home, she’s only recently moved. She had been too embarrassed to tell anyone that her mother lost their old house. The only reason you even know she moved in the first place is because Lucas and Dustin stalked her walking home. 

A dog barks as you bike past. Snow has started to fall, tomorrow will be a white Christmas.

“Oh, hello, Y/N.” Susan Hargrove’s skin is pale, her eyes sunken in when she answers the door. Her voice is thin, her frame is strained. The death has been hard on her, too. Billy’s father leaving only made everything worse. 

“Hi, Mrs. Hargrove.”

The woman winces. “Please, Mayfield will be fine.”

You immediately correct yourself, apologetic and ashamed, when Max’s voice calls from within the home. “Just let Y/N in, mom.”

Susan sighs, and you wish you could do more. Instead, all you can offer her is the container of coconut bites you’ve made for them. Max told you they remind her and her mother of California, and you always make sure to have some ready every week for them. Offer some semblance of joy in the gray of their lives.

Max sits at the kitchen table. Her head is down as she works on something. She has her walkman next to her. Susan leaves the two of you alone, excusing herself to go lay down after a long shift. 

You sit next to the girl and take a deep breath. This won’t be easy. Max is prideful, stubbornly independent, and has never accepted sympathy from anyone. You’ve always admired her fiery personality, but the fire has dimmed and the smoke is beginning to choke her. Talking to her will be like pulling teeth out. 

“Brought you your favorites.” You shake the container in your hands. It serves as a peace offering, almost a bribe to start the conversation. 

“Thanks.” Max doesn’t look up. 

You swallow, tuck your hair behind your ears. “Of course. I was doing my usual delivery rounds. I, uh. Stopped at the Sinclair’s.”

The pencil in Max’s hand freezes. Her knuckles tighten, though the shift is subtle. She’s always been too smart for her own good. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Erica likes my brownies. Mrs. Sinclair, too.”

“And Lucas?” She knows why you’re here.

“I made him chocolate chip cookies. You know how much he loves them.” Max doesn’t respond. Of course she knows how much Lucas enjoys chocolate chip cookies. She knows everything about him, but she doesn’t say anything and goes back to writing. Faintly you hear music coming from the walkman. You point at the device. “New song?”

“Kate Bush.”

“Oh.” This is going worse than you imagined. “Look, Max–”

She doesn’t waste any time. “I know Lucas sent you. I don’t care.”

“He’s just worried about you, we all are–”

“I’m fine.” The tip of the pencil snaps. “Shit.”

“Max.” You’re pleading with her to listen. Her skin is fluorescent now, paler than you’ve ever seen. The bags underneath her eyes are swollen, dark and ghostly. She’s lost weight. You can’t remember the last time you saw her eat. “Please.”

“What do you want me to do?” Though there’s anger in her voice, Max’s eyes plead with you, too. Her mask slips for just a moment, but you see it. Underneath her indifferent exterior, she’s just as terrified as everyone else is. She can feel herself fading, the guilt of Billy’s death slowly eats her alive. She doesn’t know what to do, though. How do you continue to live after death has infiltrated your home?

The chair beneath you scraps against the hardwood floor. You stand up, walk over to Max and kneel in front of her. You keep your movements slow, worried you’ll scare her away if you get too close too suddenly. “I think you should talk to someone, honey.”

Max turns away. She can’t. If she told anyone what goes on inside her head, they would never forgive her. You would never forgive her, and it would break her. 

Your hand falls to Max’s knee. The warmth from your palm combats the ice in her veins. You’re looking at her as if she’s worth something. As if she didn’t wish for her brother’s death. As if she hadn’t sent a grieving father into a spiral, a desperate mother into a trailer park. But Max allows your touch, so you try to get through to her again.

“You know, I was actually talking to Ms. Kelly a few weeks ago. The school’s guidance counselor.” She had met with you to discuss your grades and college options. When she had seen how you picked your nails until they bled, she suggested seeing her every few weeks. Alleviate some of your never ending stress. You had denied, uncomfortable with the idea. But maybe she could help Max. “She seemed nice enough. I’m sure she would be open to talking with you.”

“I don’t want to see some shrink.”

“Hey, I want to work with kids your age someday. Don’t call future me a shrink.” You poke Max’s leg playfully, and the corners of her mouth twitch. She doesn’t want you to see that it’s working. “C’mon. Have at least one meeting with her. When winter break ends, all I ask is that you try. For me and Lucas. We’re your favorites, after all.”

“If I agree, will it get you to shut up?”

You’re fine with this. It isn’t ideal, you aren’t sure Max will even actually try to open up to Ms. Kelly, but it’s a start. For too long now you’ve stayed silent, allowing Max to grieve on her own. Grief is hard, it takes and it takes and it takes. Yet it’s been almost six months and you’re not sure how much left grief can take from Max. “I think I can be okay with that.”

You’ll take whatever you can get. You’re worried. You got too caught up in your own life, you had gotten lost in your own haze of grief and anxiety. Missing Jonathan, grappling with change and growing up as you applied to college. You weren’t there for Max like you should’ve been.

But you’ll fix this. You always fix things. It’s what you do. It’s what you have to do. It’s how you love; you take care of those around you.

And who are you if you can’t?

–

Jonathan calls you high for the first time in late January. 

Though he doesn’t tell you that he’s high, you know. His words are slurred, slowed, incomprehensible. It’s late in California, even later in Indiana, and the stark feeling of guilt slices into your ribcage the same way the Demodog’s claw did. The feeling cuts deep into your skin, nicks your bone. 

“Jonathan?” You hope your voice brings him back to you. You try to cut through the smoke that fills his mind, that leaves him stumbling over his words. “Bee, can you hear me?”

“‘M here.” Jonathan sniffs, smacks his lips, yawns. “Where’re you? Can’t find you, bug.”

You close your eyes. He’s looking for you, and you aren’t with him. “I’m in Hawkins.”

“Thas’ far.”

“Yeah,” you choke out a laugh. It constricts in your vocal chords, but you can’t let Jonathan know how much it hurts to hear him so disoriented. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. California sucks.” He hiccups, you’re surprised he’s managed to call you tonight. Even in his drugged up state, he still somehow remembered to call. “Don’t think Nance will like it.”

He’s referring to the spring break trip. Nancy told you about it earlier today, how she and Mike will spend the week in California to see Jonathan and El. She had been a bit hesitant to tell you, afraid you’d be upset for not being invited, but you reassured her that it was okay. 

You’ve had a road trip planned with Jonathan ever since you were fifteen. The moment the two of you graduate, you’ll drive all across the country for one final adventure before college. 

Nancy can have spring. Summer will be yours. 

“She’ll love California because you’re there.” She talked about the trip nonstop today. Her glow had come back, momentarily, her eyes alight. She truly loves Jonathan, she misses him even more than you do. 

“Only disappoint her.”

“What do you mean?” You’re not sure where this is coming from. You know Jonathan is high, that his thoughts may not be coherent, but he sounds distressed about Nancy. You thought things had been good between them. They were planning a future together. 

“Is’ hard, with her.” Jonathan manages to get out, but his speech is becoming harder and harder to understand.

You frown. “What’s hard, bee?”

The line disconnects. Jonathan doesn’t bring the conversation up again, the next time you call. You don’t ask him what he meant. You don’t think you want to know. There had been something deeper behind his words.

Will calls you a few days later in tears. The kids are meaner in California than they are in Hawkins. They tease El, make her life hell, and he’s upset that he can’t do anything to stop it. He cries to you, his tears soak your face through the landline, and the guilt creeps back in. 

It will never truly leave.

You do your best to console him, offer him advice, but that’s all you can do. All you have are your words. Will and El are hours away, hundreds of miles separate them from you. It's nauseating, feeling so useless. For as long as you’ve known Will, you’ve always been able to protect him. To help him, dry his eyes.

You’ve always been there for your boys, for Jonathan and Will. For El. But you can’t get to them, they’re too far away, and it kills you. You’re sixteen again, trapped in Jonathan’s car and frantically trying to keep yourself together as everything around you falls apart. 

Steve becomes your lifeline. 

He always answers when you call. Every time Jonathan, high and lonely, hangs up your conversations, you call Steve. He answers, he hears the exhaustion in your voice, and he always sneaks in through your window later that night. He knows it’s the only way you’re able to sleep these days.

He sings to you when you wake up from a nightmare. They’ve become about Max, losing her. She’s only met with Ms. Kelly a few times, but you can tell that she already wants to stop. That you’re pushing her too far, pushing her away from you and everyone else. 

Steve takes you for drives when you get blisters from pacing your room, anxiously waiting for your college decision letters to come in. Soon your entire life will be decided for you by one single piece of paper. 

Two weeks before spring break, Jonathan calls you. He’s sober.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve spoken to him sober. The thought alone depresses you, makes you yearn for childhood again.

“I think Nancy wants me to come to Hawkins,” he tells you. “Would you… would you like that?”

More than anything.

You press the phone against your ear and imagine that it’s Jonathan’s hand instead. Your skin hasn’t forgotten how his felt against it. “Of course I want you to come to Hawkins, bee.” But it can’t be that easy, you know nothing ever comes easily. “Can you afford it, though? I–I mean, God. I miss you, you know that, but I know it’s been hard for your family these last few years.”

Jonathan’s head falls back against the wall behind him. You always understand. He hates it, sometimes. “It’s worth looking into if it means I get to see you and Nance.”

There’s an air of authority in Jonathan’s voice, as if he truly believes what he’s saying, and it surprises you. He’s taking initiative after months of floating away. Hope sparks within you, the cold hand of dread lessens its grip around your neck. 

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic.” You say. Jonathan laughs, you’ve missed the sound. It’s been so long since you last heard it. 

Conversation drifts after that. You tell him about the latest Spider-Man arc you’re reading, he inserts his own opinions, and it’s lovely. You haven’t had Jonathan like this in months, all to yourself, his smile aligned with yours. Sober, steady. 

The phone call with Jonathan reminds you of all the good that is still yet to come. 

College decision letters arrive next week. Your best friend might be visiting for spring break. Your boyfriend has planned a picnic for your anniversary tomorrow. You have your first meeting with Ms. Kelly the following day. It was your idea, figuring it was only fair that you see her since Max has agreed to keep going. 

And Joyce made you promise that you’d live your own life. You’re trying to get better, you really are. 

It just takes time. 

-

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[incorrectbatfam]

The batfam as teacher comment section in report card.

Dick: Mr. Grayson brings a contagious energy to the class and his enthusiasm is well-appreciated. However, he tends to channel that energy very physically and while that may benefit his learning, it's a disruption to other students. This is a frequently recurring issue that I would like to discuss with a parent or guardian.

Translation – Is this kid ADHD because he won't sit the FUCK down

Jason: Mr. Todd has displayed remarkable attention to detail and a love of literature that I can only attribute to positive reinforcement at home, and he's always a pleasure to have in class. As much as I appreciate seeing him apply his lessons outside of school hours, I believe there are more productive avenues of discussing Shakespearean playwriting with his peers than what he has been reportedly doing. 

Translation – Stop biting your thumb at people

Tim: Mr. Drake continues to exceed expectations in his schoolwork, but his attendance and participation may become a detriment to his overall grades if unaddressed. I have caught him sleeping in class on multiple occasions but he has yet to provide me a reason why he is so tired. Additionally, last month one of our monitors caught him loitering in the bathroom with a note that I did not recall writing. 

Translation – Get some sleep and also you can't make your own hall passes

Damian: I have had the privilege of teaching the Wayne family through my decades at this institution and I believe that Damian takes after his father the most in more ways than expected. His grades are stellar and he is well-organized, but I'm noticing familiar and concerning traits in his attitude and social interactions. I am requesting a meeting with his parent to understand the full context so I can devise a plan for out how to best support him. 

Translation – Forget falling, the apple is still on the damn tree

Duke: Mr. Thomas has been a pleasure to have in my chemistry lab and is always willing to help classmates who are struggling. However, after last week's minor combustion reaction mishap, I think it would be worthwhile to review the lab safety packet that all students received at the beginning of the year. 

Translation – How did you set water on fire

Cullen: Mr. Row displays a passion for transformative literature and demonstrates a clear understanding of modern media culture that has helped him synthesize a lot of our complex readings. However, I'm concerned about his laptop being a distraction, especially with numerous incidences of him looking at non-academic material.  

Translation – Quit reading fanfics in class

Stephanie: You should be pleased to know that Miss Brown consistently keeps the well-being of her peers in mind. This semester, she launched a meal initiative for students whose needs could not be met by the school cafeteria. While we value her good intentions, she has been causing hallway obstructions and there are some regulatory concerns that we need to discuss. 

Translation – She sold pancakes in the halls without a permit

Cassandra: Although Miss Cain is relatively quiet in class, she continues to blow me away with her breadth of knowledge not just on class materials, but also interpersonal details. While this is a good skill to cultivate, we ask that she dial it back especially with our faculty. Additionally, please remember that the teacher's lounge is a staff-only space and students should remain in the common areas. 

Translation – She knows too much

Barbara: Miss Gordon is easily one of the best AP Computer Science students I've seen in my twenty years of teaching. She even went above and beyond the scope of our class to apply what we've learned to a greater school context. While that is deserving of credit, I'd also like to remind her that, in the future, certain ideas should be subjected to careful consideration before actions are taken. 

Translation – She hacked the lunch menu to make every day French Fry Friday 

Harper: Miss Row has a remarkable aptitude for the engineering process that exceeds beyond what students her age can typically grasp, and she is very inventive in her own right. That being said, I would appreciate it if she followed our lesson plans more closely and reviewed our guidelines for woodshop safety so everyone can continue to have a positive experience.

Translation – She made a working crossbow out of popsicle sticks

Carrie: Miss Kelley is a bright student who brings positive energy that is very much needed, especially in morning classes. However, she's been falling behind with several missing assignments at this point, and her explanations for why she cannot finish her work don't seem to be sufficient. 

Translation – "Killer Croc ate my homework" Yeah and I'm Batman

Kate: Miss Kane seems to be very eager to move forward to the next stage of her life, as evidenced by her Career Day presentation. While I believe young people should be free to explore their passions, I also think that Kate would benefit from some workshops outlining more feasible options. 

Translation – "Get bitches" isn't a career goal

Alfred: Mr. Pennyworth is easily one of the best students this institution has seen, both in his academic record and extracurricular activities. He recently expressed interest in the sharpshooting team, which I will not discourage him from, seeing how highly accurate he is. As of this year, I will be retiring as the coach for the team, but I wish him all the best.

Translation – I'm not about to get on his bad side

Selina: Miss Kyle's resourcefulness continues to astound me. Earlier in the semester, she forgot her locker combination and quickly improvised a mechanism to safely unlock it using only the materials around her. The speed and accuracy with which she did that will surely benefit her in the future. 

Translation – Did... did she just pick a lock with another lock?

Bruce: No further comments. 

Translation – whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—

[iloveboysinred]

Life with Keith after the war [Domestic fluff hcs]

pg.13 fluff| Keith Kogane x gn reader

cw; fluff, domestic life, mentions of war

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-Okay so after the war against the Galra was won, you and Keith moved back to his house in the desert, opting to live a quiet life in isolation.

-it was peaceful and a stark contrast to the almost constant chaos of whirling around in space.

-you and Keith made some renovations to the home, fixing broken windows, re-storing the paint on the walls, and getting working appliances like a new fridge, a microwave and a bunch of new cups and plates.

-Mornings with him were your favorite, you always woke up before him, turning on some music and cooking breakfast for yourselves, watching the sun finish rising.

-he didn't wake up too long after you, your lack of warmth in bed basically forcing him to get up and look for you.

-He would find you in the kitchen, a cute apron that was much too long for you covering you from the mess of pancake batter all over the counter.

-"Morning Keith" "mmh morning baby. What's cooking?"

-he would come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his sleep laden eyes still not adjusted to the bright morning light shinning through the windows. He made a mental note to get curtains.

-He would hold onto your hips and sway side to side, following the beat of the music playing.

-you guys regularly visited Shiro, almost always taking home Tupperwares of food his husband would cook, never returning them back because Keith kept forgetting them.

-you guys had built a dog house outside for Kosmo, but he would just teleport right back inside, suddenly laying over you and Keith on the bed, wagging his tail like a puppy.

-You guys spent most of the day indoors, watching movies, talking about the future, loving on each other and trying to make up for all the times you couldn't be like this in space.

-Keith had become such a cuddle bug it was ridiculous, his hands were always wrapped around your waist, and he always had to be touching you, sub-consciously or on purpose.

-When you guys would sitting down at the dinning table, his hand would interlink with yours or rest on your thigh.

-you never went to bed before chit chatting about your day, exchanging I love yous and snuggling up under the covers.

-on the nights that you did stay up together, you and him would sit outside and stargaze, or stay in and watch scary movies with all types of sugary junk food, as if you guys were still teenagers.

-you regularly de-tangled and kept up with Keith's hair, it was so healthy and shiny.

-whenever Krolia visited you would all catch up, her sharing with you her earliest memories of baby Keith.

-he would blush and cross his arms, growing more and more embarrassed at every story. Your giggling not making it any better.

-after about a year and a half, Keith asked you to marry him. Much to Krolia's delight.

-you decided to have a small wedding, Keith not being the big flashy party type of man.

-You invited all the former paladins, as well as Ulaz and Krolia, everyone making sure to show up and celebrate your special day.

-you were over the moon once your vows were said and you were officially married, yanking Keith onto you and pressing a kiss to his lips, everyone cheering behind you and clapping.

-after the wedding, you guys laid in bed, just admiring each other, loving kisses exchanged between the both of you.

-from then on Keith just called you by your shared last name most of the time.

-"good morning, Mr/s Kogane"

-made it a point to let everyone know you were his spouse.

-he was such a sap, having multiple framed pictures of your wedding all over the house.

-Eventually the conversation of children came up, deciding when the time came you would adopt, wanting to give a child a family, just as Shiro did to Keith.

-Keith splurged as much as he could for the new addition to the family, buying clothes, food, toiletries, everything.

-he filled what used to be his room in the house with kid stuff.

-Shiro would frequently come over during this time, brining handbooks on parenting, offering useful advice on how to make the child feel at home and comfortable.

-When your new son came home you and Keith were over the moon, low-key freaking the little boy out with your enthusiasm.

-got a regular dog for him, scared Kosmo would teleport him to god knows where.

-it took a while, but he ended up warning up to you and Keith, you guys were a proper family.

-you and Keith grew old and grey.

-you would still hold hands on the porch, sitting side by side as the days would go by, but your love never ceased.

[eddiexmunsonlover]

One Step Away From You (Chapter 4)

ExBestFriend!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

Follow my new blog for future chapters & fics @cherryxhaze

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Chapter Summary: Your off-handed comment to Jason catches up to you. Before things get out of hand, someone swoops in to your defense. A heart-to-heart ensues. WC: 6.4k Warnings: MDNI. Explicit language. Fatphobia/bullying from Jason. Jason almost hits you. Brief references to toxic family relationships and abuse.

Saturday, September 21st, 1985

The ever so alluring smell of bacon and pancakes invades your senses, stirring you from your slumber. You rub your eyes as you look at the clock on the bedside table. 10:35 am. You slept in, though you can’t say you’re surprised. After the day you had, you must’ve really needed it. You roll out of Steve’s spare bed, making sure to re-make it before you venture down the stairs. 

The smell intensifies with each step down the stairs and into the kitchen, spotting the stack of pancakes and bacon waiting to be picked. Steve is pouring a cup of coffee, eyeing you as you grab a plate and start loading it up.

“Morning, sleepy head”

“Morning, haircut” you respond, taking a quick bite of bacon. Groaning softly in pleasure, “You know, Steve. If you don’t figure out what you wanna do for a career, I think you’d make a great little housewife.” You smirk to yourself as you pour syrup onto your plate. Steve scoffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that. Know any takers?” You laugh with him before you catch a glimpse of Robin sitting on the couch, eating her own plate. 

“Oh, hell yes.” you say excitedly when you see and hear Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? playing on the TV. You quickly scurry over to join Robin on the couch with your own plate. Steve joins soon after, all leisurely eating your brunch and watching Saturday morning cartoons. After you’ve all finished your plates and are relaxing before eventually having to get ready for your work shifts, Steve speaks up.

“So, we gonna talk about what happened yesterday?”

You look between him and Robin, confused. You quirk an eyebrow up at him.

“Uh, what happened yesterday? What do you mean?”

“I mean, something happened yesterday, didn’t it? You seemed a bit…off.”

Goddamnit. If Dustin hadn't learned it from you, you're now sure he learned his ability to read people so well from Mr. Steven Harrington too.

“Did you talk to Eddie?” Robin asks softly.

You sigh, crossing your arms over your stomach.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell us anything. But if you want to, you know we’re here. I’m also just really nosey.” Steve adds, causing a smirk to tug at your lips before you take a deep breath.

“Yeah. I talked to him. Ran into him after lunch, literally. And uh, let’s just say it did not go well. He kinda flipped out on me. But, I kinda deserved it. Aaand, I kinda slapped him. But, he kinda deserved it.” You let yourself laugh a little, taking in their surprised faces.

“So yeah, based on that I don’t think we’ll be friends again anytime soon. At least I can say I tried.” You finish with a shrug.

Robin reaches out and rubs your arm soothingly as Steve looks at you with sympathy and in thought. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N” he sighs, “Maybe just give things some time to cool down, I’m sure he’ll come back around.” He gives you a soft, crooked smile.

“Yeah, maybe. And if not, I’m sure I’ll be okay.” you say, more to yourself than to them.

You pull into your driveway an hour later. You sit there, finishing your cigarette as your eyes linger on the now familiar van across the street through your rear-view mirror. You look longer than you’d like, finally tearing your eyes away to throw out your cig. Cutting off the sounds of Black Sabbath as you turn off the ignition. 

You slowly shuffle your way to the mailbox at the end of your driveway. Flipping through the spam and advertisements when you hear a familiar sound, a skateboard. Your eyes follow the sound, a figure shaded by the sun. You know who it is. If it wasn’t for the skateboard, it’s the flaming aura around her head under the sunlight. A big smile stretches across your face, leaning against your mailbox as she rides closer into view. When she’s close enough to see your face, her eyes widen and she nearly stumbles off her skateboard, eliciting a giggle from you. She stares at you for a second as she comes to a stop, sliding her headphones down to her neck.

“Hey, you.” you say cheerfully.

In a second, she’s running to you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. You feel the shakiness as she inhales a deep breath.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, the ever elusive Red.” You smile as you return the hug, briefly rubbing her back before she pulls back to look at you.

“W-How?” She looks toward your trailer, “You moved back?!”

“Yep, just this past week. I tried keeping an eye out for you at school, then Dustin told me you moved here. Knew I’d catch you eventually.”

Her smile falters ever so slightly at the mention of Dustin.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s a piece of shit but it’s a roof over our heads I guess.” You nod in agreement, pondering how to approach her. If she’s been avoiding the party, you worry one wrong move will send her running away from you too. You decide to go the easy route, knowing you might not get a truthful answer right away.

“You and mom doing okay?” 

“Yeah. She’s either working or drinking most of the time, so” she shrugs nonchalantly, a move you see right through. “But I can take care of myself just fine anyway”.

“Well, if you ever get bored entertaining yourself, just come and give a knock, okay? I gotta get going for work here soon, but maybe we can go out to the drive-in or something soon?”

A small smile tugs at her lips as she nods lightly.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Oh, and you know. If you ever need a ride, I’m already giving the knuckleheads rides home after school and since we’re neighbors, I can just stick them all in the bed and give you passenger seat privileges.” You ramble before noticing the way she begins to awkwardly sway at the suggestion. “Or ya know, I can just kick them to the curb and save myself some gas with just you.” You quickly offer. She forces a small laugh before shaking her head.

“No, that’s okay. It gives me more time to skate anyway.” 

Great, I’ve already messed this up. Just add it to the list…

“Alright, well the offer’s on the table anytime. For anything.” You insist, giving her an out to the conversation as you begin to move back toward your driveway. She only nods in response, before putting her skateboard in place to ride again.

“See you later, Red.” You wave before heading into your trailer to get ready for work.

During the slower phases of the work day, your mind drifts to worries of Max. How she’s really doing, how you should approach her, how to get her to open up to you. It’s a welcomed distraction considering the other places, or people, your mind would be wandering to otherwise. You and Max had gotten fairly close over the summer, you gave her opportunities with and outside of the party to get away from home, from her asshole step-brother. Being the only other girl and older, she often confided in you. Whether it was about her brother, her relationship with Lucas, or the struggles of girlhood, you were there for her. 

Since Billy’s sacrifice to save her from the mall fire and his resulting death, she’s closed off. Isolating from everyone close to her. That happened to be something you’re familiar with. Something that helps you to understand her, something you can use. You know you need to take it slow though. Based on her initial reaction to seeing you, you know she's missed you, and know that connection is still there. There’s just some walls you need to chisel down first.

Take it slow.

That connection is still there.

Just some walls you need to chisel down first…

Those dark curls… chocolate button eyes… cutest fucking dimples you’ve ever seen in your life.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, frustrated with your brain and your heart. Both deeply longing for him… before the shock of pain with the memory of his words hits you.

Just let it go. Move on. He’s not your Eddie anymore.

~

It was bothering Eddie more than he’d ever admit, even to himself. You. Thoughts of you swimming around his head with every emotion he could think of, was bothering him.

After your argument, he felt a bit of relief. To finally say the words he’d been carrying with him these last few years to you. To finally release the anger and pain out onto you. It felt like a weight off his shoulders in the moment. What he hadn’t been expecting was for you to match it, taking the pain and anger you felt in response, right back out and onto him. 

This whole past week you’ve been back has thrown him off. More distracted than usual. More reactive. More irritable. The other boys in Hellfire noticed, taking extra effort to not poke the bull. 

Your argument and slap left him even more distracted and off-balance. You’d thrown him off his game for Hellfire for christ’s sake. Forgetting details for the campaign that he’d otherwise would’ve had memorized, left him referencing his notes. He didn’t exude his usual dungeon master playfulness, animated voice and facial expressions coming out muted. Everyone noticed. Eddie’s own off-balanced performance reflected in his players. Nothing had ever distracted him so much to the point of interfering with Hellfire campaigns. The way Henderson eyed him suspiciously throughout the night almost set him off completely, again. He’d ended the campaign a little early, offering a brief apology and a quick lie to write off his abnormal performance on. He’d spent the rest of the night getting as drunk and high as he could in his bedroom until he passed out. 

Saturday isn’t going much differently for him. Sitting in his bed with a joint in his mouth as his fingers mindlessly strum his guitar, thinking of you. The anger he felt yesterday is now replaced with guilt. A guilt that sits and churns in his stomach, teetering on the edge of nausea. Maybe that was just the hangover, or maybe it’s from the way he can’t get the image of your tear-streaked face out of his head. Tears caused by him.

You deserved to hear how much you hurt him. Be faced with the consequences of your actions. You deserved that. But as he remembers the look in your eyes yesterday, the way you flinched, the way he caused a side of you you rarely show to come out… he knows you didn’t deserve that. He scolds himself for letting his emotions get the best of him, letting them get out of his control. You hurt him, that didn’t make it right for him to hurt you back. It didn’t even make him feel good. Maybe very briefly in the moment, just to release what he’d been holding in for so long, but it left as quickly as it came. 

He sighs as he moves the guitar off his lap, putting out his joint in the ashtray before rubbing his hands over his face, staring up at the ceiling.

He can’t hold on to this anger anymore, he knows it’s not healthy and is only hurting him more. But he can’t blame himself too much for wanting to, it’s one of the ways he’s protected himself in the past. Protected him from getting hurt. You knew that about him. The way he held onto anger at his dad, people in Hawkins, not wanting to waver and give either the chance to hurt him more. You knew almost everything about him, more about him than he’d ever willingly shared with anyone. That’s why what you did hurt him so deeply, and why he wanted to hurt you just as much. And feels like utter shit for it. 

Hey, you!

His eyes dart to his window as his brain immediately recognizes your voice. He peeks out to see you interacting with a younger girl he’d seen skateboarding around in the neighborhood and at school. His heart begins to ache watching you, watching you embrace the girl, watching the way you smile at her and ramble.

God, does he miss it. Misses the way you’d ramble and rant about something you’re passionate about, the way you’d cackle and smile when he’d do the stupidest thing he could think of just so he could see it. Misses the way your warm, plump body feels against him when you’d hug or lean your head on his shoulder. 

He sighs watching you wave goodbye to the girl and walk inside your trailer. 

Maybe he could give you another chance. Now that he’s not so overcome with anger, maybe he’d be able to hear you out. Not overpower you so much with his anger that you can actually have a real chance to explain yourself. 

Maybe.

Tuesday, September 24th, 1985

Some things have changed since your fight with Eddie on Friday. Flipped, really. Your eyes no longer sought him out. You do your best to avoid looking at him whether it was in the halls or in your shared classes. Knowing the sight of him would only bring back that sting in your chest.

Eddie on the other hand, couldn’t tear his eyes away from you whenever you’re in his sight. Watching you in regret, longing, confusion, hurt, all twisted into one. Eddie’s confident in himself most of the time, except for in a few areas. This situation with you and how to handle it moving forward is one of the latter. It’s a big fucking mess he isn’t sure how to fix. He knows with the way things went on Friday after you made the first move to talk to him, that it had to be him this time to try to make things right. 

You take your time walking down the quiet halls before the end of the lunch period, hearing the distant, muffled chatter from the lunchroom. You open your locker, putting away your books from your morning classes, switching them out with your afternoon ones. Just as you finish putting the last book in your bag, your locker slams shut in front of you, causing your head to whip toward the culprit you didn’t notice come up next to you till now.

“You’ve got a smart mouth on you, don’t you piggy?” Jason seethes out, hand pressed against your now closed locker door. Your smirk at him as you lean against it.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Yeah, well I don’t know who the hell you think you are or who you think you're talking to bu-”

“You know, I remember you from years ago. The last time I lived here.” You interrupt before looking him up and down, “Jason Carver. Back then you were just a scrawny guy, trailing behind the older jocks, carrying that ever so fragile ego in tow with theirs.” You look back up to meet his eyes, brows furrowed above them. “I see you’ve grown a few inches, even bulked up a bit. Looks like that’s about all that’s changed, though.” You watch as he processes your words, your insult.

“You fat fucking bitch” He says through gritted teeth, face turning red.

“Oh come on, Carver. Don’t you have anything fresher than that?” you say flatly, cocking an eyebrow at him. You watch as his body tenses up.

“Looks like I need to teach you and that smart mouth a lesson” He says, taking a step closer to you. You don’t move an inch, refusing to give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of you.

“Oh no. What are you gonna do?!” You say sarcastically. “You don’t scare me, Carver.”

You watch as a vein protrudes from his forehead, face turning a deeper red. 

It all happens so quickly. One of his arms pulls back, raising in the air in the motion to slap you, but it doesn’t come. Curly dark hair appears behind him, before Jason’s thrown flat on his ass in front of you.

Eddie had been outside smoking before lunch ended. On his way back into the school, he spots you and Jason. He slows his steps, listening in on the quickly escalating conversation. You’re teetering on the edge and you don’t care. As fragile as Jason’s ego is, so is his masculinity. Eddie wasn’t sure if Jason's above hitting a girl, but he knows that’s where this could go. He creeps closer, eyeing the way Jason’s hand begins to twitch. Waiting for the string to snap, and it does. When he spots Jason’s hand raise, Eddie swoops in. With a foot behind Jason’s, Eddie wraps his arm around Jason’s front, pulling him till he’s falling back on the floor. 

Eddie was no stranger to fights, the jocks of Hawkins having taken their frustrations out of him plenty of times. He didn’t like putting himself in the line of fire, but he has and would do it in a heartbeat for the people he cares about. Despite how he’s acted, you’re one of those people.

Your eyes widen, at the fact Jason was about to hit you in the middle of the school, and at seeing Eddie before you, swooping in out of nowhere to defend you. Your eyes lock with his and everything slows down, so many emotions and words unsaid flowing between you with just a look. For a moment your mind flashes back to 5th grade Eddie, reaching his hand out to help you off the ground, worry and sympathy filling his eyes. History repeating itself. You take a deep breath as the memory hits you, staring into Eddie’s brown eyes. In that moment, it’s only you two. No one else. No white brick halls. Just you and Eddie, conveying so much to each other through just your eyes.

Jason’s groans pull you from your trance, your eyes leaving Eddie’s to look down at him. You drop down to one knee, getting into Jason’s face. Eyes popping open wide when he senses you so close. You look at him with fire in your eyes as you point a finger in his face.

“Let me tell you something, you piece of shit. I didn’t come back here to deal with your little brat boy bullshit. If I see you try to put your hands on any of my friends, let alone me, again… I will make you regret it. And don’t think that I won’t.” You hiss, voice full of steel. Staring at him with as much intensity as he held earlier. You relish in the brief moment of fear that flashes through his eyes before his face hardens in frustration and embarrassment, chest heaving with deep, short breaths.

A silence falls before the bell rings to end the lunch period, breaking you all out of the moment. Jason quickly pulls himself to his feet before students flood the halls, not wanting anyone to see him in his embarrassing position. You rise with him. He fixes his letterman jacket, staring daggers between you and Eddie.

“Fucking freaks” he huffs before turning around, stomping down the hall quickly as it fills with students.

Both you and Eddie relax, releasing a breath before you’re just standing there awkwardly next to each other. You resecure your bag on your shoulder before chancing a look at Eddie, who's already staring at you. Reading you, assessing you, trying to tell if you’re okay.

You clear your throat before nodding your head at him.

“Thank you” you mutter softly. When he doesn’t immediately say anything back, your body takes the lead, quickly walking away toward your next class. 

Eddie considers chasing after you, but he doesn’t know what the hell he’d say if he did. He just watches you walk away before he takes slow steps to follow you to your shared class together.

In the two classes you have together, you can feel his eyes on you. You catch him a few times, eyes locking with his before one of you quickly looks away. 

You feel like you have whiplash. From the switch up of the Eddie you faced on Friday that hated your guts, to the Eddie who didn’t waste a second coming to defend you, with only a few days passing in between. You can’t wrap your head around it. You know he cares, he wouldn’t have been so angry before if he didn’t, but you assumed he was done with you, hated you. But someone that hates you wouldn’t rush into potential harms way to defend you, right?

A few more stolen glances and the muffled voices of your teachers’ as you’re lost in thought fills the remainder of your school day. When you leave your final class, stopping at your locker before walking out the front doors, you wonder if he’ll come up behind you, apologize for his behavior on Friday and give you another chance. But it doesn’t happen, making the walk to your truck uninterrupted. You want to chastise yourself for holding that hope, but what happened today can’t mean nothing. It just can’t. You don’t want it to.

You spend the remainder of your afternoon trying to do your homework. It takes everything in you to focus, almost giving up when the calculus problems push you right to the edge in frustration. You let out a huff in relief as you finish the problems and slam your notebook shut, throwing your head back as you slouch in your chair. Rubbing your hands over your face before you hear your mom unlocking the front door. When you note the time and sun setting through your window, you get up and make your way to the kitchen to start making dinner. You browse through the cupboard before your eyes land on a package of pasta. Spaghetti it is. 

As you wait for the meat to brown, your mind replays the events of the day. Landing back into the loop your thoughts had been stuck in all afternoon about Eddie. Trying to make sense of it all, of him. The moment your eyes locked this afternoon made your heart ache, and still does when you think of it now.

You aren’t sure when exactly you first fell in love with Eddie Munson.

The first day you met when he came to your rescue from bullies? That time in the woods when you were 10 when he insisted you be the trapped princess his mission was to rescue? The countless Friday nights you spent staying up late to watch The Midnight Special, eventually falling asleep on each other's shoulders? The first time he shared his mom’s records with you? The first time he really opened up to you about the loss of his mom, and the strenuous relationship with his Dad? That night your parents fighting got so bad you snuck out of your window and went to his trailer in tears, consoling you and doing anything he could to cheer you up? That time he almost went to fight your mom when he saw the red mark on your cheek? Or maybe it was the time he told you you’re beautiful the way you are, when your mom and everyone’s criticisms of your body weighed too heavily on your mind? 

You can’t pinpoint which event triggered the change from seeing Eddie as your friend, to your crush. What event marked the transition to being in love with your best friend, seeing and imagining him in ways beyond a regular friend would. You aren’t sure when, but you know you’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember. An unrequited love that made your heart ache with every pet name bestowed upon you, with every flash of that devilish smile and irresistible dimples, with every use of his deep, animated voice for dramatic storytelling. An ache you’d decided for years you could stifle to keep his friendship. An ache that turned into a sharp pain hearing his voice over the phone, hundreds of miles away. A pain you’d decided you couldn’t bear anymore. Maybe if you hadn’t been in love with him, things would’ve been different. You wouldn’t have pulled away. 

So foolish. Desperately longing for things you couldn’t have. Longing so desperately you pushed away the best person in your life, the very person you longed for. A decision that didn’t take long for you to regret, but in your mind was too late to fix. Now, after today, you aren’t so confident about that.

You sit on the couch with your mom, eating Spaghetti and watching Magnum P.I. reruns as your thoughts continue. Mindless small talk about your days, vision zoning out as you stare at the tv, petting Henny who sits in your lap, and a heightened awareness of Eddie’s presence only 100 feet away. An hour later when your mom announces she’s going to bed, you ponder how to spend the rest of your night. You know you won’t be able to fall asleep yourself anytime soon, anticipating one of those nights you won’t be able to shut your mind off. 

You wander to your room, shutting your door as you reach into one of your dresser drawers for your little stash box. Sighing in frustration when you notice you only have enough left for one more smoke.

You roll a quick blunt before throwing on a flannel and slipping out the front door. You take a deep inhale of the fresh air, relishing in the cool breeze of the late September night as you begin the short walk to the little neighborhood park at the end of your street. You don’t notice the figure on the porch across the street smoking a cigarette in the dark as you walk, taking in the sound of the breeze blowing through the leaves on the trees, the quietness of the park beyond the very faint sound of some network sitcom playing on a tv.

You sit on a swing and begin to move back and forth slowly as memories flood back. This playground hasn’t changed a bit since you first moved to Forest Hills Trailer Park 9 years ago. Paint faded and chipping, old mulch littered around the playground, and rusted metal chains on the swing that creaks with each movement. Eddie and you spent countless afternoons here in the early years of your friendship. Swinging together, laughing as you’d watch Eddie do the monkey bars, spinning each other on the merry-go-round till you thought you’d get sick.

You put the blunt to your lips and light it, taking a deep inhale as you look around the abandoned playground, hoping the weed would help to calm your mind enough to get some sleep. You rest your head against the metal swing chain, feet softly kicking at the mulch and dirt beneath you. You don’t hear the soft footsteps on pavement approaching you till they’re only a couple feet away, head shooting up at the intrusion when the sound meets your ears. Eddie clears his throat, hands in his vest pockets as he stands at the edge of the playground. Your movements still at the sight of him, streetlights illuminating his figure and messy curls. When your body stiffens and you remain silent, Eddie takes a few steps closer.

“I-uh, I come in peace, promise.” He says softly, raising his hands in surrender. “Mind if I join you?” he asks, head gesturing to the empty swing next to you. You only nod in response before casting your eyes down. You take another hit as he sits down next to you, praying the calming effects you sought would kick in quicker.

You’re both silent for a while, the light wind blowing through the trees, neighborhood noises, and soft creaks from the swing set the only sounds filling the space between you. Eddie’s knee bobs anxiously before he clears his throat.

“I um, just wanted to apologize for Friday. The way I acted, some of the things I said… I let my emotions get the best of me. I didn’t really give you much room to talk, and I’m sorry for that.” Eddie says nervously, eyes turning to look at you as he finishes. You nod in response again, not looking his way.

“I understand. I don’t blame you.” Silence falls between you again before you look towards him. “Thank you again, for earlier today. You didn’t need to step in like that.” Eddie chuckles softly.

“Oh, I know you could’ve handled him just fine on your own, but you shouldn’t have had to... It’s no problem, really. Not my first run in with him anyway.” You wonder just how many times Eddie’s had to deal with Carver and the other jocks, just how bad those run-ins have possibly gotten. In a sign signaling truce, you hand your blunt to him, offering a hit. He gladly accepts with a soft smile before taking a hit.

“Since when do you smoke the devil’s lettuce?”

You giggle softly, letting a smile spread to your cheeks.

“About a year now, same with these” You say, pulling the pack of cigarettes from your pocket enough for him to see. Eddie tsk’s in response, passing the blunt back to you.

“Naughty naughty.” He teases in a deep voice, eyeing you while blowing out smoke. You tear your eyes away and back to the mulch beneath your feet, the sight enough to send a shiver up your spine. 

After a few more passes between you, the blunt is gone and you’re left to face the inevitable conversation. You rub your sweaty palms against your thighs as you work up the courage.

“I just wanted to say again, I’m sorry for how things went. For dropping contact. It’s entirely my fault and… I’m really sorry for doing that to you, Eddie. You didn’t deserve that.” Your eyes peek at him. He’s faced forward, nodding softly in response as he lights a cigarette. He moves his hips slightly, enough to turn his body more toward yours. 

“So why did you do it?” he asks quietly, dark eyes looking up from his cigarette to meet yours. A somber look on his face, a stark contrast from a few days ago. You take a shaky deep breath while turning your head to look up at the stars littering the sky.

You can’t tell him the truth. You can’t tell him you stopped returning his calls because you were so in love with him that the distance, the sound of his voice over the phone caused your heart to ache so deeply that you couldn’t take it anymore, that you’d recluse to your room and cry after each call.

“We were so close and it hurt so much to be torn apart. Every time I heard your voice on the phone… it just” you take another deep breath, “it was just a reminder that I wouldn’t see you again and that just hurt too much to deal with. I didn’t want to deal with it. So… I secluded. I avoided you. I know it might not make sense, that it might not be a good enough answer for you, but it’s the only one I have.” 

You didn’t exactly lie. It’s not the full truth but you were still as honest as you could let yourself be. He’s quiet for a minute as he takes in your words before letting out a deep sigh. 

“I guess I get that,” He does, he felt the pain too. The way his heart ached in longing every time he heard your voice, every time he’s thought about you since. It wasn’t enough for him to stop calling, but he still understands you shared the same pain during every call. “But you could’ve seen me again, you’ve been visiting in the summers this whole time.” he protests softly.

“Eddie, when I stopped calling I didn’t know I was going to come back to visit.” You shake your head lightly before turning your body towards him, mirroring his. “I mean, I figured I’d come back and see my Dad eventually, but uh if you remember, he wasn’t exactly in the best mental state when we left and was also locked up so, I didn’t really know anything about what would happen.” You look away from him and towards your lap, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your flannel. “It’s not that I don’t regret it, I do. But by the time I changed my mind and found out about coming back in the summer I was just… like, paralyzed. It had only been two months after I stopped calling, but I was afraid. Afraid it was too much time that’d passed, afraid you’d moved on and replaced me, afraid you wouldn’t forgive me… so I didn’t do anything. Just let it be. The whole time I just told myself you probably didn’t care much anyway.” Eddie blinks at you, wide-eyed as you finish before scoffing lightly.

“You really think I would’ve ‘replaced’ you that easily? That quickly? You were my best friend too, Y/N. The closest I’ve ever had, even closer than Ronnie, you know that. How could you think I wouldn’t care?”

“Come on, Eddie. You’re telling me your brain never fucks with you like that?” You ask, fingers picking a cigarette out of your pack and lighting it quickly. After an inhale you continue, “I mean logically, I know that you felt the same about our friendship. Plenty of memories and moments to prove it. But I just kept thinking back to when I first told you I was leaving. Sure, you seemed disappointed but you weren’t as upset as I was, you didn’t cry. And despite knowing I've only seen you cry like, twice before in all those years, my brain still just clung onto that. Like ‘See! He doesn’t really care, not as much as you.’” You shake your head in disappointment and frustration with yourself as you take another hit. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“No,” Eddie answers quickly, squashing his own cigarette in the mulch with his Reebok sneakers. He looks at you, a sympathetic look etched across his features. “I know what that’s like.” You’re both quiet at first, letting the new information and understanding fall into place. You rock yourself back and forth on the swing slowly, gathering your words before you speak them.

“Look, I don’t expect you to forgive me and I don’t know what I could do to make it up to you but, I just need to say again that I’m sorry. I would take it all back if I could. I’ve really missed you.” You finish, eyes meeting his. You hope they’re portraying your sincerity as his own search your face. He looks away from you as a small smile tugs at one side of his lips, feet kicking at the mulch below.

“Yeah well… I missed you too.” He breathes out, eyes meeting yours again. A small smile tugs at your own lips. After a few moments of silence, he finishes. “I forgive you.”

He leans towards you, pinky finger extended. You choke out a laugh at the sight, relief washing over you. You wrap your pinky around his, closing your eyes to stop them from watering as your smile deepens.

When your fingers detach, you sigh deeply and open your eyes to meet his again.

“Thank you” you say quietly, warmth spreading through your body. It feels like a massive weight has been taken off your shoulders. The optimism and hope you haven’t felt since last Sunday, before your first day back at Hawkins, creeps its way back into your mind and body. You note how much lighter your chest feels as it moves with each breath, and the knot you’ve felt in your stomach for a week begins to loosen.

You stay there for a while, lightly swinging back and forth as you and Eddie dive into discussions about new bands, albums, and movies that have come out since you moved. Concerts you’ve been to since. Eddie smiles seeing that you haven’t changed one bit since you’d left, even mentioning bands and movies he hadn’t even heard of, promising to share your tapes with him at some point. He finds himself getting lost watching you as you excitedly describe the Journey concert you went to with your cousins in 83’. Smiling when he notices the sparkle in your eyes as you rave about Steve Perry’s voice and how they played your favorite songs. Laughing as you pout in jealousy when he describes the Metallica concert he went to with Gareth earlier this year. It all feels so familiar, so comfortable.

You’re so lost in conversation you don’t notice how much time passes by until Eddie checks his watch and whistles. It’s almost 11:30pm, nearly 2 hours since you first walked down to the playground. The hesitancy you held about your ability to get a goodnight’s rest tonight was gone. You feel like you’re floating as you and Eddie walk the short distance back to your trailers, Eddie telling you about Hellfire’s current campaign. 

“You know, you’re more than welcome to join us sometime. You already know half the club.” He offers as you reach the end of your driveway. 

“I’ll definitely think about it, thanks.” You give him a small smile.

“Cool. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” He returns your smile as he rocks back and forth on his heels lightly, hands shoved into his vest pockets. 

“Oh, wait! Kind of an odd question but before I forget, do you know anyone around here that sells?” You ask as the thought of your now empty stash box pops into your head. Eddie smoked with you, you figure he knew where to get some around here.

And boy, did he. 

A bright, cheeky smile stretches across his face.

“Oh yeah, I know a guy.” He says with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes before he bows dramatically, “Your friendly neighborhood drug dealer at your service, my dear.”

[rebelliousstories]

I Know Now

Relationship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Light Fluff

Word Count: 1,032

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Part One: Did You Know?// Part Three: Somebody Knows// Part Four: What We Know

Summary: When it comes time for Reid to come home, everyone is happy. Everyone except the one person he wants to see more than anyone else.

“Cherish every moment with those you love, because tomorrow is never promised.” - Unknown

Spencer had no idea what was going on as he was brought into the visitors room. He was not sure what was going on, but within a few minutes, he got his answer. Jennifer walked into the room with a teary smile on her face as she looked at her best friend.

“We’re taking you home.” For the first time in three months, Spencer voluntarily touched another human being. Weight was taken off of him as he hugged her close, but he was waiting to see one specific person.

Checking out of the prison felt amazing. He was never going to go back to those walls again if he could help it. Reid dressed in the suit he wore in again, and waited for the gate to be opened. On the other side, he was delighted to see his friends and coworkers. Garcia came up and wrapped him up tightly, to which he smiled at, but as he looked around, he could not help but be disappointed. His wife was nowhere to be seen. Pulling away, Spencer realized that he must have had a confused look on his face because Penelope spoke up.

“We tried to get into contact with her, but she wasn’t answering her phone.” She whispered, ushering the man into the SUV that was awaiting them. With everything happening with his mom, Lindsey, Scratch; the one thing he needed was her to keep him sane.

Penelope gave him a portable battery charger for the drive, because after three months, his phone was definitely not charged enough for a call. Spencer sat impatiently as he waited for the phone to power up. They turned the corner to go into headquarters and he felt relief at seeing the beautiful building again. He thought he would never see it again. Once his phone was online, he immediately began to try and call his wife, only to be met with her voicemail every time.

Jennifer offered to take Spencer by their apartment to check, as Cassie’s phone was also going to voicemail. It was starting to become weird for the team as they tried to piece together the pieces of this puzzle. Spencer stepped inside of his apartment and immediately spotted the scrapbook that was left out in the open. Two pieces from the book were not where they were supposed to be. A picture that he had made of himself and a tightrope walker, and a picture from the very first time that his mom had met his future wife. Spencer remembered that day so clearly after all these years.

“Mom, hey. How are you feeling today?” Spencer spoke softly through the room as he walked inside. Sitting in a chair, facing the window, was his mother. She turned her head at the sound of his voice and was shocked to see her son, and someone behind him.

“Spencer, what a pleasant surprise. I’m feeling okay today. They had pancakes for breakfast so it was a good start. Who’s this?” Diana jumped straight to the point. Stepping to the side, Spencer presented the young lady that was behind him. She gave her full name as she made her way to the elder Reid.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Reid. Spencer couldn’t stop talking about you the entire time here.” She held out her hand, and waited, but the older woman only looked at it. Sensing the awkward tension beginning to arise, the younger woman held out the present in her hands towards her boyfriend’s mother.

“Spence told me you weren’t a fan of flowers, or chocolates, or anything of the sort so I thought this would be a good thing to bring.” Diana took the object, and look down inquisitively. In her hands, rested a book. Not just any book, no; this was a gorgeous ornate version of Parliament of Fowls. The same stories she used to read to Spencer as a young boy. Trailing her hands over the cover, she felt the embossing and looked up at the stranger with her son.

“Are you two going to stand forever, or come sit down and join me?” Turning to her boyfriend, she smiled as he walked her over to where two chairs sat side by side.

“Spence, are you okay?” JJ asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. He jolted out of his seat at the touch, causing the woman to step back with her hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry,” came his panted breaths, “just realized that these two pictures aren’t where they’re suppose to be.”

“Is there anything significant about them?” She inquired, looking over his shoulder.

The one of him as a child looked unmarked, but turning it around showed him the note in lipstick. XX-XY. However, the other picture was very clearly marked. The same red lipstick was scribbled over his wife’s face and stomach. He knew what the first clue meant, but what on earth did this mean? Spencer stood up abruptly, and went to look around his apartment. There was no sign of his mother or wife all through the humble abode, sending him further and further to the edge. Cassie was not there either, which added another layer to his frayed state already.

It should have been more of a shock to find Cassie dead, and Lindsey on the run, but it was not. At least not to Spencer. This was the natural escalation of things, he supposed. He felt relief when he heard that the victim at the gas station was male; his mother and wife were still alive. But as he sat in the BAU again, trying to crack this case, he kept getting tunnel vision. What was he not seeing? What was alluding him?

When they finally got a break in the case, he was not sure whether or not he was thankful. Because the second that face popped up on the big screen, he felt like he could break it. The screen and the person on it.

“It’s me.”

George Eliot wrote, “Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.”

Tag:

@bringitonhomejohnb

[radiant-reid]

proposal idea

after every date, or every morning after ( 🤭), pretty much just whenever reader sleeps over, she makes spencer french toast the next morning

so when spencer proposes, he gets up early to make her french toast and when he trays it up he has the ring sitting on the side, like next to a flower or something 🥹

- 🥹

omg i'm a sucker for a proposal blurb

You're very confused when you wake up and Spencer's not next to you. After the evening, and then the night, you had together, it would usually be you getting up first. He's not the morning person he thinks he is, and you pretend not to notice. That's how the routine started, and it's continued since then.

"Spence?" You call out from bed, guessing he might be in the bathroom.

"In the kitchen, sweetheart!" He calls back.

You follow his voice through the apartment until you find your handsome boyfriend, shirtless and stirring pancake batter.

"What's cooking, good looking?" You ask with a smirk, resting against the doorway as you watch him.

Spencer laughs as he turns around, opening his arms up to wrap you in a tight hug. You rest against his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist and he places his head on top of yours.

"I love you." He says.

It seems... deeper than normal. Every time he says he loves you, it's heartfelt and sincere but something's different.

You tilt your head up to look at him. "What's up?"

"I just think you're perfect." He says softly.

"You know that's not-" Spencer places a finger over your lips before you can debate his claim.

"Let me finish." He demands, quickly adding some wide puppy dog eyes when you raise your eyebrows. "Please. I love you so much, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

You frown slightly, speaking with his finger pressed to your lips. "I want that too." You assure him, but it doesn't seem to be reassurance he's after.

"This should be okay then." He whispers to himself, confusing you. He shifts around you, moving so he's standing behind you with his head on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your stomach.

That's when you notice the most gorgeous engagement ring you've ever seen in a ring box next to a single sunflower. In shock, your hand clasps over your mouth as your heart thumps hard against your chest.

"Will you marry me?" He whispers.

You're crying while you nod, moving your hand away so your voice isn't muffled. "Yes." Then it hits you, what it means if you accept his offer, and it's the easiest choice you've ever made. "Yes! Of course!"

In one swift motion, you turn around in his arms, cup his cheeks, and smash your lips on his, kissing him passionately.

Spencer goes in for another quick peck once you've kissed until you've run out of air. "Try it on." He nods to the ring.

You grin excitedly, picking up the box gently. It's even more shiny and bigger up close. "Wow."

"Good enough?" He asks with a huge grin.

He knows it is, but you assure him with a firm nod. "It's perfect."

"Put it on." He says excitedly.

"You should do the honors, Doctor Reid." You remind him, holding out the box. "Just for practice."

Spencer's grin remains prominent as he takes the ring out of the cushion and slips it onto your finger. "Okay, future Mrs. Reid."

That has your heart melting even more as you both admire the ring on your finger and how it looks like it was made to be there. "Why a sunflower?" You ask, briefly looking at the flower still sitting on the bench.

"They're a symbol of happiness, optimism, honesty, longevity, peace, admiration, faithfulness, and devotion." He reports in true Spencer-like fashion and his explanation makes sense, just like everything about being with him does.

[sparklingcid3r]

this is kind of a weird q but i was reading ur hc about the curtis parents and thought it was vv good! what do you think each of the brothers miss specifically about their parents (besides like their literal presense lol)? also what do you think their mom and dad thought was special about the  individual traits of each of their sons and were most excited/worried about for each of their futures?

Ty I’m glad u liked them!! I love doing those kinds of posts, they get my thoughts going so good

This was also suchhh a good ask I was sitting on it for a while just thinking about it it was so good

Starting with Pony, I think that he misses his father’s reassurance the most. Since Darrel Sr. and Soda were two very similar people and Soda was very sensitive to Pony’s interests and personality, in my head Pony was really close with his dad as well. Darrel Sr. was a big reader, same as Pony, and his dad was the first person Pony went to in order to rant and rave about the book he just finished. Some nights would just be them picking up a book and sitting on the couch, Pony leaning his head against his dad’s chest while he read quietly, putting on different voices for each character. Darrel Sr. encouraged him to pick apart what he didn’t like and construct the story over again, setting the foundation for his writing ability later on.

Onto Soda, I think he misses his parents’ cooking. On the weekends, he took for granted getting to wake up to the smell of greasy eggs and bacon and, whenever his dad was in the mood, pancakes. The sound of a sizzling frying pan and Darrel Sr. banging the top of the syrup bottle against the counter to get it open. Josephine (Mrs. Curtis) would let out a long, high whistle to get the boys downstairs, but she rarely needed to do it on those days. They were fighting to get down the stairs first. Darrel Sr. would sneak chocolate chips into some of the pancakes and they were always flipping the plate over trying to stab them all on their forks first. Josephine always knew how each boy liked his eggs and made sure to put lots of cheese on Soda’s scrambled eggs, and she always snuck him her pieces of bacon that she didn’t want. The kitchen hasn’t smelled like that in a long time.

Darry misses his mom like he lost half his soul. Not only was he the firstborn, he was most similar to his mother, so their bond was special. She kept him on the straight and narrow when the world got just a little too loud with all the yelling and fights and rodeos, was always the first person he went to when he didn’t know what to do. Josephine was there his whole life, sitting at the end of his bed when he was younger, telling him to be quiet on Christmas Eve so he could hear the reindeer land on the roof, reading him excerpts of her favorite books. She was the one who told him he would be the first Curtis to get to college. When the winter comes around and the smell of Christmas and peppermints and sour apples are in the air, he can feel his mom’s arm around his shoulder and suddenly he’s fourteen and about to start his first day at Will Rogers again, and she’s telling him he’s going to leave them all in his dust soon. Even though their deaths are the reason he is where he is, he’s glad Josephine isn’t there to see him now, failing his brothers, himself, and her.

We’re gonna go in reverse for the second part and combine it a little bit- you’ll see what i mean ;)

Josephine and Darrel Sr. were very confident in Darry’s future. They knew he had drive, ambition, and the discipline to go wherever he wanted in life, so they weren’t worried about the destination, only the journey. They worried that Darry might lose himself on the way, that he would forget about his roots and how they shaped him just as much as his own desires did.

When it came to Soda, they were in love with and terrified by the way he couldn’t help but wear his heart on his sleeve. They knew that boy was going to get his heart broken a million times before finding the girl who would treat him right, but they feared he would break down before he got there and settle for fine when he deserved great. He was a small town soul from the get go, it wasn’t lavish living he craved, but comfort, and all they could do for him was hope he’d find it.

And Pony, they feared how the world would welcome him. He saw things differently than anyone else on the East Side. He liked books and movies and nature and the abstract, and they wanted him to be able to foster those passions without any fear of rejection or mockery. They didn’t want him to have his light snuffed out before it had even become a spark, to give in to the violence that kept going in circles on their side of the tracks.

i think we girlbossed a little too close to the sun w this one, i didn’t think it would get this long😭🙏

[pseudowho]

HI HAITCH CAN YOU PLEASE ADOPT ME

I keep seeing yours and Mr. Haitch's reblogs and posts on my feed and honestly, I wish I had parents like you growing up. Your family seems so sweet!! I hardly see families in my country last these days. It's not fun. (Me saying this even though I wish my parents were divorced 😭. Would be better for me and my sibling though)

Thank you for reading this, and even if you don't answer, thank you again!! I love your writings.

HAVE A GREAT DAYYY

Demi

At our current count we have about 18 children, 3 born to us and 15 adopted on Tumblr.

At this point, one more wouldn't hurt, but if you could look after your little brothers every now and then, Daddy and I will pay you, and leave you money for pizza.

We shan't parentify you, but we do expect certain behavioural standards (not being an arsehole, talking about your feelings, and making kind choices) to be upheld, and we will be very firm about it.

We do lose our minds and tempers occasionally, but we are accountable for it, and we will apologise sincerely to you and give you a hug if you would like it, and we will try to be better in the future.

I hope you don't mind catching us canoodling in the kitchen every now and then; we love you very much, we just love each other very much too, and occasionally just need some time to bury our faces in each other and smell each others' perfume/cologne.

We don't let our children win at games, because it's important to teach them good sportsmanship, even if we do take it easy on them every now and then. This is largely relevant in our household for Mario Kart.

I hope you like swordfighting.

I hope you like macaroni cheese, Katsu curry, stews and thick buttered bread, pancakes, and carbonara.

If that's all okay, welcome to the Haitch Household.

☝️ you, now, I assume.

-- Haitch xxx

[crowborn666-writes]

Lock Screen

Shinsou x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romantic, Crush in Denial

Summary: Mina finds Shinsou on your phone’s lock screen, and is determined to get to you to accept your feelings.

~~~~~~

It was breakfast, Iida and Bakugo making big batches of pancakes for everyone.

“Thanks guys!” You grinned wide at the stack of pancakes Bakugo handed you, earning a grunt in reply as he returned to the stove. Classic Bakugo, caring in his own way.

You sat down between Mina and Midoriya, and as you moved, your phone slipped from your hoodie pocket, clattering to the carpeted floor.

Mina was quick to reach down and pluck your phone off the floor for you, only to pause as she came back up, your phone lighting up from the movement.

Your lock screen was a picture of you and Shinsou, sitting on the school steps with a stray cat stretching across both of your laps. You and him had arrived early that day, as you sometimes do together. You liked to be early more often than not and Shinsou just couldn’t sleep.

Someone else had taken the photo and sent it to you, and at the time you thought nothing of it.

You’re quick to snatch your phone back, cheeks flaring with a rushed whisper. “Quit staring at my lock screen, Mina!”

“Do you like him?” Mina hummed, taking a bite of her food as you sat in your chair.

“Not in the way you’re thinking.”

“Are you suuure?”

“Yes!” You huffed, shoving a bite of pancake into your mouth so she couldn’t ask you any more questions.

You and Ochako did the dishes after breakfast together, and you somehow got into talking about crushes.

“So (Y/n), you got anyone you like?”

“Nope. No one’s really on my mind any more than the next person.” You replied, spotting bright pink appear in your periphery.

“You suuure?”

“Mina. I don’t like Shinsou that way.” You grumbled, trying to keep your voice low in case of eavesdroppers.

“What’s this about Shinsou?” Ochako piped up, looking between you and Mina as she dried a plate.

“(Y/n) has a picture of them and Shinsou as their phone’s lock screen!”

“Mina!”

“Oh how sweet!” Ochako chirped, “(Y/n), are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You huffed, turning your red cheeked face back to the sink.

“Hey ladies.”

“Oh hey Shinsou!”

The world hated you. It had to.

“Came by to drop off my plate. Woke up late so I ate later than everyone else.” Shinsou had his dishes stacked neatly on top of each other, one hand on the back of his neck in that sheepish way of his.

“That’s fine!” You spoke up, hoping the red in your cheeks had died down as you waved him over, “I can take care of it for you.”

He hummed, moving to hand you his dishes, his fingers brushing yours. Then with a wave, he slipped out of the kitchen as Denki called out.

“Shinsou! Come help me kick Bakugo’s ass in Mario Kart!”

“What was that, Pikachu?!”

You shook your head from your place at the sink, scrubbing away at the last of the dishes.

You watched as Shinsou was up against Midoriya in class training, resting from your earlier bout with Kirishima. Pink appeared next to you, Mina sitting down next to you with a grin on her face.

“You’re staring.”

“A-Am not! I’m just… taking notes for future matches!”

“There’s nothing wrong having a crush, y’know.”

“Mina, I don’t—“

“Shinsou even likes you back.”

You paused then, mouth agape as you looked from Mina to Shinsou, who was ducking away from a punch from Midoriya.

“You think…?”

“Yeah I think! If you can’t tell him directly, I’ll help ya make a note or something to give him.”

“…Okay.”

Gosh your voice had gotten so quiet.

Mina gave you an affectionate punch in the shoulder, jumping to her feet as Mr. Aizawa called her up for the next match.

You could hear through Shinsou’s earbuds as you walked up to his desk, note in hand, Mr. Brightside reaching your ears.

It was the last hour of the day, so most of the class had free time to unwind or catch up on work.

Your nerves began to creep up on you, threatening to close of your throat and render you speechless. In a quick movement, you slipped the note face down on his desk, shuffling away back to your desk, the feeling of his eyes landing in your back.

You busied yourself with your phone as you sat down, glancing up past your hair to see Shinsou flipping the note over and beginning to read.

You watched as he took out his earbuds, head beginning to turn towards you when the bell rang. Clamor overtook the settled atmosphere of the room as students stood with their things, beginning to talk as they filed out of the classroom.

You stood with a small sigh, setting your things into your bag when a figure stopped at your desk, your card being placed on your desk.

On the unwritten side, in neat handwriting, was:

“I like you too. We share the same lock screen after all.”

Your head whipped up to face Shinsou, who was smiling warmly at you, presenting his lock screen of the same picture. The one with both of you on the school steps with the cat.

“Y-You like me too…? You mean it?” You breathed, meeting his eyes.

A kiss was planted onto your cheek. “‘Course I do.”

[mayullla]

Title: Meeting the 1-A students!

Character(s): Student of UA Class 1-A (BNHA)

Warnings/tags: Slowburn platonic yandere, fem!child!reader, reader has a healing quirk, the obsessions themes are not obvious here but will happen at one point so just in case I am putting this here.

Little healer here! list

Okay but like imagine the school year starts and like you finally meet the students of class 1-A. Right beside Recovery girl, you were introduced together with her as someone who will be healing them if they were to get hurt. After all the hero profession was never really safe. Shyly you said hello to the students a little more used to it after greeting the other classes. And like most classes, almost all the students started to coo at how adorable you were. Mina was especially fond of you grabbing you for a hug.

You watched them introduce themselves and a few caught your eyes more so than others.

Deku was one of them as you remember him breaking that huge robot at the entrance exam unable to follow Recovery girl that time you sat right beside Aizawa as Mic told you to watch potential future students take the entrance test.

"Mister is very strong! I saw mister on the TV when you punched that big robot!" You gave a huge punch in the air mimicking him. Izuku was flustered at your praises and the fact that you watched him fight the robot wondering if it was really okay for a small child like you to be watching life-and-death scenarios and breaking bones.

After the first introduction Class 1-A always greeted you whenever you guys meet in the halls. You have become a sort of helper to the teachers, moving medic room to the teachers' room sometimes to classrooms often to hand out something another teacher had asked you to give to another teacher or student.

"Aizawa sensei told me to call you to the teacher's office!" You told Mineta smiling brightly at him when he had an expression of dread.

Aoyama always tells you how shiny he was, showing off to a kid his handsomeness which you looked enthusiastically at tho Aizawa wasn't all that sure when you told him about it. Though Aoyama was much more preferred than Mineta all things considered, Aizawa had to sit down with you one on one, one time to have you promise him never to listen to what he says.

No teacher was happy nor was Hawks who called Aizawa stating that you have been saying that big boob heroes are the best because one of his students managed to tell you that when the girls weren't looking.

You were quick to befriend Asui and Uraraka along with Izuku and Ida. Mina too was super fun to hang around with!

The moment they found out that you were adopted by the pro hero Hawks nobody could believe it!

"P-p-pro H-hero H-h-h-Hawks?!!" Deku partially yelled in surprise as he stared at you shocked. "So that was why Hawks was pictured in the news buying kid's clothes," Uraraka said blinking in surprise but way less shocked than Deku really.

"I did see him visit here a few times. Was it to pick you up ribbit?" You nodded at Asui smiling cheerfully. "Mr. Hawks always picks me up after work! If he comes back late then I will stay with Aizawa sensei, or Mic sensei or Recovery Girl sensei till he comes back!"

Everybody was staring at you both in surprise but also curiosity save for some. "Hey! What is it like living with the pro hero hawks?" Mina asked curiously by your side a finger on her chin. "Is he good at cooking?" You were quick to nod at her words, "Mister Hawks makes the best pancakes!"

Questions after questions were asked and you tried to answer them all. Tenya Ida tried to help calm down all the students but it was difficult when all of them were just so excited.

"Hey, I got a question!" Kaminari raised a hand, leaning from his seat to you. His face was curious if not a bit confused. "Why do you call Hawks mister? Since he adopted you shouldn't you call him dad or papa?"

It was an innocent question really, yet it made you silent as other students all looked at you. They noticed it too how you would always call pro-hero hawks mister. Yet it seems that you were taken by surprise and unable to say anything. Fidgeting from your place, quiet and hesitant.

Some students noticed how sensitive this question was. Concern on their face as they glance at you, Deku was about to cut in when they heard a bonk to the head. "Dunce face, what are you an idiot?" Bakugo seemed to have hit Kaminari on the head with his fist. Quickly changing the main character in the room to him. Bakugo immediately told him that he shouldn't butt into other people's personal lives and that it got nothing to do with him. Some students flinched at what he said, seeing that they did ask way too many questions about your life.

You just watched Bakugou yell at Kaminari silently.

Maybe it was then you also noticed him and started following him around when you can much to the annoyance of Bakugou.

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 26 here/ Series Masterlist

Chapter 27

Summary : Loki's ex fiance brings trouble.

Warning: 18+, Smut, HUGE Canon divergence(Just me making shit up), masturbation, dry humping mention of stalking, mention of psychological torture, angst, insecurities, ptsd, self deprecating behaviour, panic attack, soft precious bean loki, polite bean Loki

That night Loki was taken to a group meeting where he was instructed of things he would have to do in order to repent for the crimes, under the influence of Thanos or not, so many lives were destroyed by his actions and Loki himself wanted to redeem himself, he remembered how much people hated him but somehow he had managed to win the hearts of the people of Midgard but then he remembered Melissa. He was hoping he would not run into her this time.

He already had to deal with the matter of his ex fiance.

You couldn't sleep at all that night, you called your mother and told her that you were staying at a friend's house since your apartment had mold problems and you also told her that your phone was broken because you knew she'd continue to call and will get suspicious sooner or later.

Things seemed messy, your mother was back to hating him again and this time you had no idea how will you tell her again, you couldn't share anything with Mrs Geller and you missed Jane terribly.

Next morning you woke up to the phone ringing so you picked it up thinking that it was your mother.

"Y/n? It's Steve Rogers, I am leaving for Minesotta" you sat up as he said that.

"Umm okay..good luck and have a good journey and i hope you will find your friend"

"You pray for that y/n" you squeezed your eyes as he said that. Once he hung up you quickly showered and put on a summer dress, you missed Loki terribly, it felt like a heartbreak all over again, you knew you had him still, you knew his heart belonged to you but there was a fear eating you up, a gut feeling that something was going to go wrong. As you stepped into the dining area you found Loki, he was in earth people clothing and you always found him adorable like that, but he was accompanied by Thor as well as Natasha, Tony, Clint and Bruce, they were having a meeting of sorts so you didn't want to interrupt them. You turned around to leave but Thor had seen you already,

"Lady y/n" you stopped and turned around and everyone was just staring at you so you smiled awkwardly, your eyes met with Loki and you quickly averted your gaze, the way he was fucking you with his eyes wasn't helping at all.

"Come have a meal with us" Thor said.

"Ummm I think you guys are busy with some top secret Avengers business so I'll come back later" you mumbled nervously.

"We were just talking about the shawarma we had the other day" Tony said so you walked back to the table and took the empty chair next to Thor, there was a space next to Loki available but you didn't want to look suspicious.

"I love shawarma, the chicken one with the garlic sauce and beetroot is the best" you mumbled and you could feel their eyes on you.

"I don't like that, I like the one with tahini" Natasha mumbled as she munched on her pancakes.

"That is absolutely a good choice" you answered her, she looked so intimidating even having a normal conversation. You couldn't help but wonder if they were all the same in other universes, you wondered if all of them were good guys, heroes, the most of all you wondered if your lives were interconnected in those other universes as well.

Sometimes it was hard to process this turn of events in your life, eight months ago or should you say two days ago in this timeline you were living a completely harmless boring dead life where you had no hope or dreams for future and now you were sitting in the Avengers tower discussing the type of shawarma you liked. What the hell happened?

"Brother what are you doing?" You turned your head to look at Thor as he said that and Loki seemed horrified.

"Nothing, what do you mean?" Loki gulped.

"Why were your toes rubbing against my shin?" You burst out into a laughter as Thor said that, others did as well but Loki was so embarrassed, that sweet poodle, you really needed to hug him and kiss him as soon as possible.

"I have done no such thing brother" he answered before he went back to eating, in order to comfort him you took your heels off and rubbed over your toes up and down on his shin just like last night. The pink shimmer of embarrassment from his cheeks has faded and a smile returned to his face as he felt your touch.

After breakfast you went back to your room, if Steve would find Bucky soon then you'd have no business being here but you didn't want to leave just yet. You couldn't leave him here because you knew they won't allow him to go anywhere, Thor wouldn't take him to see you now that he had no memory of you two ever meeting.

You had to come up with something to prolong your stay here.

You stepped out of your room at the supposed lunch time wishing to run into Loki again but you weren't ready to see what you did. You found Loki, Thor and the bunch of Avengers along with tens of other people you didn't recognise, you did recognise Dalia though. There was a woman dressed in a princess gown, loaded with jewels from head to toe clutching onto the love of your life, he stood there awkwardly with his arms barely touching her waist as he tried to comfort her.

"It wasn't until that you left my beloved is when I came to the conclusion that you Loki, my love, you are all I need in my life, you're the man I want to spend the eternity with" she pulled away to speak and he opened his mouth to say something but then his eyes met with yours and he was completely baffled, you seemed hurt and he never wanted to put you through such pain ever again, he didn't understand why fate kept coming between you two. He also didn't understand why Atrishia visited him now, she never came in the previous timeline but then the previous timeline was never supposed to exist.

"Prince Loki why are these mortals staring at us? Can we go somewhere private?" She asked him so he nodded and she hooked her arm in the crook of his elbow as they left for his room.

He had hoped for her to move on because he had come so far from that place, they were never even in love with each other, even their engagement ceremony consisted of them barely speaking to each other, sure they had a rendezvous here and there but the spark just wasn't there, he never felt the toe curling heat that he experienced with you, the marriage was a political alliance, she knew that and he did too.

Before he met you he never felt that need for a partner he'd want to love day in and out but now that he had you he knew he couldn't even imagine being with someone else, he craved his father's approval but now it didn't matter to him as much as you did.

"I can not comprehend how you and Prince Thor can live here, it is so warm and crowded and mortals are so …erratic" She let out a chuckle

As soon as they reached his room, he turned to her and took a deep breath.

"Lady Atrishia i need to tell you something"

"What is it?" She looked at him curiously and he had no idea what to say to her, he couldn't tell her about you just yet, Strange has said to not tell anyone anything.

"I'm afraid I can not continue with this union of us, i reckoned that you must have carried forward with your life, i was considered dead for more than a year" he said nervously, his voice was soft but formal.

"And I have yearned for you every single day Loki, when I learned of your demise a part of me died as well. You have no indication of the predicament i have suffered through during the time, but you are alive and that is all that matters " she hugged him tightly again and he squeezed his eyes as he didn't know how else to push her away, he didn't want to be cruel to her, he was betrothed to her and he knew he had a responsibility here, breaking an engagement wasn't something that the royals took lightly. He knew she would be ridiculed for it.

"Princess Atrishia, i appreciate the concern and i apologize for every hurt that i have caused you or will do so in future but I am not in love with you and I am assured that you are not either" she chuckled and pulled away as he said that.

"Not in love with me? What is that supposed to mean Loki? I didn't come so far for you to tell me that you do not feel love for me, you will learn to love me Loki" she said to him so he took a step back from her.

"That is not how it is going to be now, I am sorry"

"You should be apologetic Loki, for offending me so when I went through all this trouble, when I have spent every night wailing for you to come back, our union was arranged and nothing has changed, you will come around Loki" she insisted and he was starting to feel offended by the sudden change in her tone.

"No I will not, my heart is not yours , it never was, the union was arranged by our families but I'm not the same man any longer, i have changed, i desire love and i have found it in someone, I am sorry"

Her eyes teared up as he said that, he felt bad about her situation but he wasn't going to hurt you any more, not for her or Odin or Frigga, after everything you two thad been through, he wasn't just going to let it all slip away from him again.

"Well who's she? Have you fallen for another princess?"

"Yes but She's not an Asgardian or from Vanaheim"

"Then who, Loki? Who else is there that you have given your heart to?"

"I'm not ready to reveal that information, you need to let go of this union and move forward, for all the hurt that I have caused you I really am deeply apologetic for the same" she crossed her arms and glared at him as he said that. She stormed out of his room and he sighed and then he followed her back into the living area

"Prince Thor, i would love to stay here for a while, arrange a feast for me, would love to experience a Midgardian celebration" she smiled at him so he grabbed her hand and gave it a formal kiss. He looked at Loki and Loki shook his head slightly but he couldn't just deny the Princess, this was her first visit.

"Come i will take you to your private chamber" Thor said to her as he gave out his arm for her to hold on to and she glared at Loki as they walked past him.

Loki looked around but you weren't there anymore and he was worried about you. He quickly went back to his room and then he teleported straight to yours, he found you on the bed all curled up, crying your heart out, the broken sniffles rendered his heart. You already had several insecurities and he was afraid he had brought them to the surface again.

He crawled on the bed and as soon as you felt him around you, you turned on your back to look at him.

"There you are" he whispered softly as he got on top of you, cupping your cheeks he wiped your tears but you were just staring at him mindlessly as if you couldn't believe that he was there.

"How did you get here" you felt his thumb rubbing against your cheek softly and he gave you a smile, just being able to hold him felt surreal again, his scent intoxicated you and made your mind go all hazy as soon as he was in such close proximity.

"Teleportation" he mumbled as he leaned down and kissed you softly, your fingers curled around his neck as he pulled away, you brought him back to you and kissed him feverishly, it felt like ages since you had touched him last even though it's barely been three days.

"God i have missed you" he hummed in agreement as you said that "Do you really remember everything or it's just me that remembers everything and you just have like bits and pieces of the memories?" You asked him as you sniffled so he kissed you

"I remember everything darling, from the moment I laid my eyes upon you to the moment we were seperated i remember each and every little thing we experienced. I remember becoming friends, best friends, then lovers, i remember the heartbreak and the fears we both had, i remember the dreams, I'm here my darling, I'm here" you nodded in desperation as he confirmed everything, not that you doubted him but you were feeling extremely insecure at the moment.

"The dress..you make it look beautiful my love" you smiled at the compliment, your legs hooked around his waist and he moaned slightly at the closeness, he had been wanting to hold you and do other dirty things with you, your presence here but him not being able to touch you was killing him.

You lifted your head up and pressed kisses on his neck, he put his hand behind your head to give you support so you weren't straining your neck like that. The way you were sucking on his skin, he knew you'd leave him all marked, it would heal soon so he didn't mind it either, if you felt territorial about him then he was going to allow you to do whatever you wanted, he needed you to know that you owned him.

"I am all yours my princess" you pulled away as he said that.

"What about the princess…the real one?"

"You're my real princess"

"And i love to be but we have to talk about the princess in the living room" he chuckled as you said that.

"I told her my heart wasn't mine any longer"

"You did?" You looked at him surprised as if he wasn't ready to destroy the multiverse for you.

"I did, I do not understand why she is staying though but I promise she won't be a trouble"

"I do feel kinda bad for her, i have been in a situation where I wasn't..picked or chosen and it hurts alot"

"I know it does, I know how it feels but I can not hurt you or our relationship just to protect her newly found feelings, we were not companions, we barely even knew each other, she didn't even come see me when I was losing it all over there" he let out a exasperated sigh as he finished his sentence so you scratched his scalp and he immediately melted into the touch.

"She knew?"

"Of Course she did, i became the King of Asgard, she must have heard"

You nodded as he said that. Maybe he was trying to make you feel better because the way she was holding onto him out there, she really seemed desperate for him.

"Maybe she was just confused about it all"

"Perhaps you are right but I know if it was you, you would have come for me, you would have come to save me"

Your eyes teared up again as he said that.

"I would come for you, anywhere anytime" you took his shirt off and the double innuendo didn't go amiss.

"Can I make love to you my darling?" He whispered in your ears and you bit on your lips as you nodded with utter desperation, tucking his hair to the side you kissed his neck again, his hands roamed over your thighs and he took your underwear off, your back arched as you felt his fingers on your wet lips, sometimes it was hard to wrap your mind around the fact that a man like him desired you this way.

Even after everything that had happened it was still incomprehensible to accept that he really wanted you and you only.

You unbuttoned his pants and pulled his cock out to stroke him slowly, he let out pretty little moans that you have been dying to hear again.

"I'm so glad you remember lo, i wasn't ready to lose you"

"I'm so happy you remember as well darling" his voice came out all breathy as the sensation in his belly grew, he was so desperate for you and he hoped you knew exactly how much he needed you like this. He made you arch your back so he could unzip the dress and pull your breasts out of the confinement, his lips latched onto your right nipple, you almost lost your train of thoughts as he sucked on them slowly one by one.

"So perfect, you are ethereal my princess" he mumbled before he licked your nipples one more time and all of a sudden he stopped and pulled away a little as he realised something.

"What's wrong?" You asked him but your hand kept stroking him.

"I uhhh.. norns darling you have to stop so I can Think" you bit on your lips as he said that.

"You want me to stop? Really?" You gave him a naughty smile and he placed his hand on yours, brought them both over your head and you felt him rubbing his cock over your lips.

"No I want us to keep going sweet girl" you moaned as his precum smeared on your clit, your body felt on fire and you wanted to keep burning in this flame. Forever and ever.

"Norns I need to stop" he let go of your hands and sat up on his knees so you looked at him with a perplexed look on your face for a second and then sat up as well, while he buttoned his pants you pulled the straps of your dress over your shoulders.

"Everything okay lo? You are worrying me" you chuckled nervously so he cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly.

"I don't have a protection"

"What?"

"Condoms, don't have it" your brows furrowed and it took you a second before you realized that he didn't have a condom in his vault. He only got them once you both had agreed to be more than friends, nothing like that happened in this timeline.

"Ohh…that..is a bummer" you pressed your lips together in disappointment so he smiled.

"It is alright" he said so you climbed on his lap and he was taken aback by the sudden urgency but he smiled as you sat right on his crotch and your arms wrapped around his neck.

"We will do it like this" you mumbled as your hips rolled back and forth on his crotch, the seam of his zipper rubbed against your wet naked lips and the sensation felt too good to be true. His mouth opened, jaw clenched and brows flared as he watched you move in a rhythm, his hands cupped your ass and gave them a squeeze, a guttural moan escaped his throat as the pressure built in the pit of his stomach.

He wrapped his fist around the hem of your dress and pulled it up to take it off your body, the sight of your naked body humping against his half clothed one, your breasts jiggling with every move, your eyes drunken with the feeling was too erotic and he knew it wouldn't take him long to combust.

"You're dripping on me darling" he mumbled as his eyes remained fixated on your cunt rubbing against his bulge. The image would probably make you blush later but right now you just wanted to please you both and you didn't care how obscene you must have looked.

"Mmm you are so hard lo, so perfect..it's heavenly and you are such a good boy, so pretty, i love you" you kissed him softly while your hips continued to gyrate on him.

"I love you my goddess..I'm your good boy, all yours, forever yours, you own me, I'm Yours" his voice came out in broken whispers and you kissed him again and then again.

"You promise?"

"I swear on my manhood darling" you chuckled which in turn made him laugh but both of your heads lulled backwards and he moaned loudly, a little too loud as you both chased that burning feeling together.

This was perfect, every time you gave yourself to him this way it just felt right and you felt as if you belonged to him and that he belonged to you but the moment he was away from you, when other people had his attention you felt insecure again and you had no idea how to get rid of that feeling.

As you both came he picked you up immediately and took you to the shower, you both needed it after that, in the shower he made you cum all over again as he went down on his knees and pleasured you until you had no thoughts left in your head, he was all you could think of and you wished that feeling could have lasted forever but you knew you weren't that fortunate. This new life with him had just begun and it seemed more difficult to live this relationship than the last time.

Loki couldn't stay in your room for long so he teleported back to his, he didn't want anyone to suspect you two.

In the evening Thor had organized that feast for Princess Atrishia and you asked Natasha Romanoff if you could join the feast, she glared at you a little too long before she agreed but she asked you to dress nicely, thankfully you had a fancy black dress that you had worn for your mother's and David's dinner rehearsal.

As you walked in the lounge you suddenly felt out of place, everyone seemed elegant with their suits and gowns, your eyes traced the room and you found Loki along with Thor, Loki was in a black suit while Thor had a blue suit on that seemed too small for his size, they were having a conversation with princess Atrishia, your eyes met with Loki and he gave you a sympathetic look so you quietly walked towards the bar and sat down. You noticed Tony right next to you and he was talking with that bitch Dalia. For some reason you wanted to take all your frustration by smacking the shit out of her.

"This is perfect Tony, in order to present him as a reformed man we can use his past and show the people of earth that he wasn't always evil, he was in love and engaged to a beautiful woman like her, I mean we have hit the jackpot here don't you see?" She said to Tony and all of a sudden you had a sense of dejavu.

This was Melissa fiasco all over again but this time you'd have to compete against the Princess of Vanaheim. A goddamed Princess.

Not again though, you swore to yourself that you won't allow Loki or yourself to suffer all over again. You had no Idea that Atrishia was no ordinary woman and she came here to take Loki. By hook or crook.

😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐

@annoyingsweetsstranger  @mcufan72  @nixymarvelkins  @stupidthoughtsinwriting  @fictive-sl0th  @eleniblue  @violethaze  @anukulee  @ladymischief11  @12-pm-510  @wolfsmom1 @whylokiissocute  @pics-and-fanfics  @daddylokisqueen  @olivertwistrabbit  @blog-the-lilly  @prettylittlepluviophile  @vanilla-daydreaming  @somewiseguy  @yaaamadaa-blog  @dragonmurray  @elthreetimes  @gruftiela  @thenotoriouserg  @greep215  @yallgotkik  @tactac286  @janineb86  @sflame15-blog  @nyxlaufeyson  @lokidokieokie  @purplekitten30  @sunnixart  @nikkig496-blog  @frozenhuntress67  @qardasngan  @rosecentury  @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen  @hrefna-the-raven  @jennyggggrrr

@cosniffee

[appleasks]

Hello again Mr. Morningstar. I have three questions

Why did you not talk to charlie for seven straight year's?

Who is your favorite person in the hotel that is not charlie?

And what is your favorite meal?

Thank you :)

"i  didn't not  talk  to  charlie  for  seven  straight  years!  i-i-i  called  her  a  lot!  granted,  not  with  the  intention  of  catching  up,  but,  uh—i  didn't  avoid  talking  to  her  completely!  in  fact  i  was  the  one  who  usually  called  her,  which  is  why  it  was  a  pleasant  surprise  when  she  called  me  about  the  hotel  that  day.  and  my  favorite  person?  maggie!  oh,  sorry,  haha—i  meant  to  say  vaggie!  she's  a  wonderful  match  for  my  daughter  and  ...  i  feel  ...  close  to  her.  like  i  know  her  deeper  than  she'd  led  on.  oh  well!  what's  the  next  question?  oh!  my  favorite  meal?  hmm  ...  i  don't  really  need  to  eat  but  i  would  say  i  have  an  extensive  palette  from  being  in  hell  for  all  these  years,  but  it's  been  a  hot  while  since  i've  indulged  in  anything  fancy!  i  used  to  like  apples  quite  a  bit  but—y-yeah  that  was  ruined  for  me  quick,  um  ...  i'm  a  simple  guy,  and  there's  quite  a  lot  of  different  foods  i've  loved  from  all  over  the  world,  so  it's  a  little  hard  to  choose  ...  i  want  to  say  pancakes  but  those  are  for  the  hard  or  bad  days.  salmon  sashimi?  no  ...  cereals!  they're  easy  to  prepare!  yes.  my  answer  will  probably  change  in  the  future  but  hey!  who  knows! and no problem, come back anytime!"

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Cool questions!

1: when playing, does the duo re-act stuff from movies? Like anakin vs obi wan or when Shrek is escaping from the dragon?

2: what’s one thing that one does shocks the other? Like Chris disliking bananas on pancakes? (Read that from an earlier post of yours)

3: for the superfamily, what’s one story you would write for them?

4: what’s one story you would write for Chris for his own book?

5: same as Jake?

Phew! Took me a good while but I finally was able to get to answering this one @pin-crusher2000 . Thanks for the ask

1) Oh most definitely Chris and Jake would reenact so many Star Wars duels, especially Obi Wan vs Anakin as they can float around which make doing those fancy acrobatics all the easier. Bonus points if they utilize those cardboard tubes and paint them to their lightsaber colors and Jake using his speaker’s speakers to play the music in the background

Otherwise, they certainly would also do the Dragon Escape but most tellingly if Meredith was watching them, reenact kaiju battles

2) Oh, Jake putting Milk Before Cereal which horrifies not just Chris but also Mar’i and Dick

Also, Chris not minding the dumb fun of the Bayformers films as much as Jake does

3) I think I can have Clark, Lois, Kara, Conner, Chris and Jon get blasted across space and time, across multiple time periods, alternate histories or possible futures of Metropolis during a big battle against the Time Trapper. For example, Lois winds up in Metropolis in 1889 during the height of the Gilded Age, her mini adventure being to expose a corrupt all powerful banker while Conner is sent into a Metropolis that’s controlled by Germany in a scenario should they had won the Second World War. The finale for the arc would see the Superman Family reunite at the End of Time itself coming face to face with the Trapper, but it won’t be just the family as many of their new friends they met all across their little adventures assemble to help as well.

4) Less of an entire story and more a one to two issue arc involving Nightwing Phantom taking on a cosmic being in a game of wits and intelligence rather than fisticuffs, all for the sake of saving reality itself. Think this being akin to say A 4th Dimension Imp like Mr Mxyzptlk or more overtly the Celestial Toymaker from Doctor Who. The real meat though is whatever thoughts and emotions are transpiring inside of Chris’ mind space as I place this after he has his reaffirmation from Dad Clark of him belonging to Earth in light of Zod’s invasion. He thinks about this planet he’s trying to truly accept as his home in spite of his origins and how much he must defend it from this entity while also trying to reaffirm himself that he belongs with his real family the Kents despite Zod’s words permeating his thinking space.

5) Here, I take some inspiration from the Batman TAS episode “The Underdwellers” in which like in that episode, Jake would be investigating some recent pickpocketing going on across the Bludhaven streets, all of them being committed by street urchins and runaways, a lot of them around his age range doing such under the tyrannical rule of a supposed caretaker who treats them rather horribly. After running into one of the urchins and rescuing them from an incoming subway train, Jake and the kid become friendly with each other to where the kid can lead our hero to the whereabouts of his comrades. Coming along for the ride is one of Jake’s rouges, long time best frenemy Cody Cunningham aka Lion Master, who also had caught wind of the pickpocketing so he comes along with Skybird in this investigation, forming something of an alliance between them. This proves handy as like the Sewer King in “The Underdwellers”, the villain has vicious sewer gators that serve him which Cody’s lions are able to fend off while Skybird persues and eventually captures the villain. With that, the orphans are finally freed from his reign, taken in by the Services and able to see the light outside once again. Throughout this story, we not only can get glimpses into Jake’s head as this in a way is deja vu with his history of failing to save street orphans from a supervillain once before but also once Lion Master enters the picture, the two can have talks about each other’s deal and how Lion Master in many ways just wants a place to call a home after surviving in the streets for so long and his sympathies for Jake’s situation in light of this case.

As the two were successful working together and Cody realizes he feels much better doing some actual good rather than remaining a small time thief with a gimmick, he finally takes up Jake’s offer to renounce his old life as a rouge, first turning himself in to the authorities and spending some time in Juvie to make up for his robberies (his lions we’re thankfully tamed enough for the authorities to keep in that meantime) then once he gets out of his sentence for good behavior, moves into the Grayson Apartment complex with a place of his own. A new fresh start for him, especially when his new landlord, Dick Grayson, drops by and hearing of his skills as a lion tamer offers him and his feline companions a job at Haly Circus.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Pancakes

Set post-game. Thea Dekarios wakes from her trance to smell pancakes and investigates. SFW.

Based on this art.

When Thea Dekarios ended her trance, the first thing she noticed was a very distinct smell.

Pancakes?

PANCAKES?!?!

While she knew Gale was an excellent cook (as good as Mum, and that’s saying a lot), she did not know how utterly delicious his pancakes were. When she asked about the recipe, he mentioned it was a secret Dekarios family recipe. And winked. I’m a Dekarios now, so tell me what makes those pancakes so damn good. She tried as quietly as possible to sneak down the stairs and into the kitchen without alerting him, but a particularly squeaky floorboard made her husband aware of her presence.

“Good morning, my darling girl!” he said happily, flipping a pancake with every bit of flair she had come to expect from Gale. To say that he was a changed man was a gross understatement. For the first time in his life, he’s truly happy and at ease with himself. He loves teaching. He…loves. So much. “How did you rest?”

Leaning against the doorway into the kitchen, she smiled. “Good. I relived the night we told each other how we felt, and before you ask, it was just as lovely the second time around.”

He barked a laugh. “Well thank gods for that, eh? That was such a magical night, my love. Sometimes I can scarce believe that we found each other in the first place…and that by some miracle we are married and making a life together here in Waterdeep.” His attention went back to the pancakes. “I made you chocolate chip, sweetness. They’ll be done in a moment or two. And coffee,” a mage hand appeared and began to pour her a cup. “Will be done in a second.”

Thea shook her head, still smiling, and sat down at the table. The mage hand brought her the coffee in her favorite mug. It has me in my cat wildshape painted on it. “So much doting this morning, Mr. Dekarios. Have I done anything to deserve it?” She teased, the corners of her mouth quirking into a grin. “Or will I be doing anything to deserve it in the future?”

He flipped the pancakes onto a plate. “Mrs. Dekarios, you should know by now that the answers to those questions are ‘yes’ and ‘yes.’ And this,” He turned towards her, a look of merriment on his face, pulling at his robe slightly to expose a hairy leg to his upper thigh, making her squeal with laughter. “is only a taste of your reward.” As he laughed (the most wonderful sound in the world), he brought her plate of chocolate chip pancakes to her with a bow. “My lady’s breakfast. Hot and fresh.”

“So, like you then, love?” Hot. Fresh. All mine as I’m all his. She wrinkled her nose and giggled as she sliced into the first pancake. Oh fuck me, these smell amazing.

He rolled his eyes playfully, pouring three large globs of batter on the griddle. “I’m in too good a mood to protest this time, dearest. I’ll simply take your word for it that I am, indeed, hot and fresh. Speaking of which, I did take a shower, so by that logic, I am fresh at the very least—”

“Gale?”

“Yes, my love?”

She brought the first forkful of pancakes to her mouth. “You’re the hottest and freshest man in my life, now please come here and give me a kiss.”

His eyes widened, and he rushed towards her. Cupping her face in his hands, he gently kissed her lips. Perfect. He’s perfect. “Forgive me. I was too taken in by you. You see, darling, you’re somehow more beautiful when you wake from your trance…” He shook his head, kissing her once more. “Pancake duty calls. Don’t want them to burn.” He hurried back to the griddle and hummed a song Thea recognized from their wedding.

As she lifted the first forkful of pancakes to her lips, she sighed happily.

It was worth it.

All the pain.

All the misery.

Having to share my head with a damn tadpole.

It was worth it for this.

“Sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms.”

My darling Gale was absolutely right.