#i just wanted to brain vomit all over the page and that i did

[kerorowhump]

isn't it extremely fucked up how even though he says this was a joke right after this truly is the real words he would say to them if he was about to sacrifice himself to protect earth and humans to which we can infer also that 1 he's grateful for the knowingly limited amount of time he had with them and that he was able to be their friend (specifically fuyuki) so he is aware at the Very Least on a joking level that this is a chance which time will inevitably run out 2 he feels on some level guilt for his being a "freeloader" and living under their roof and obviously more in general getting them involved in the invasion stuff he can't walk out of, so in the back of his mind somehow he's trying to make up for and remedy this fact 3 most importantly, despite KNOWING that his position is fickle and he would've been required to choose sided eventually and lose all he has as he feared, he's not sacrificing himself by being platoon leader, because he also got to achieve happiness under this plan and within this platoon.

see, I say that because not too long ago I even discussed with friends that keroro was sacrificing some of his own happiness doing something he very extremely doesn't wanna do anymore (invasion) not only because he has to but also because it allows everyone around him to thrive in these conditions even if HE doesn't. they're all happy to be on earth, keroro is super lax with the way he treats them, barely scolds them for real or perceived mistakes

["you went a bit overboard" he says as he's literally dying buried in snow. great boss!]

(and when he does "scold", it's more average bickering what they do, and he doesn't come out on top a lot or anyways lacks that aura of respect you'd have to give any other military superior which allows for a more relaxed environment where they can thrive as themselves. you ever seen ofmd? think stede). and consistently ive seen so far that keroro is willing to put his life on the line for the mission and also step up when it comes to protecting his teammates specifically, but I think he's like, aware of what being a leader entails. and I know he does because he had this fuckin SPEECH ready to drop, joke or not!! like he pondered this stuff, he knows how he feels about the situation and... he concluded that he's happy the way things are. and that may be why it's so hard for him to commit to something and he's kinda stuck between sides, because it's not like keron bad earth good to him

he likes keron and he likes earth and while he's allowed to live in a way that allows him to betray neither, he's happy. that is his goal, so that makes sense. he's not without guilt and shame for his choices, but he's grateful they led him to where he is. a still moment in time where he can pretend he's on the right side on both parts.

I mean... IS that why he wants to be included with them as family so bad?

is that why it hurts when his teammates lose faith in his leader abilities?

could that be why he has semi-frequent (I would say...) breakdowns about the state of the mission despite not being motivated to do it, because this fickle balance he's created still hinges on it, let alone his reputation? HQ loves to remind him so. to tell him to hurry up.

it's all about enjoying the time you have with the people you love, and also give them a chance to find their own happiness in a way they couldn't have under normal keron rules. taking the brunt of everything that might go wrong for this.

but he's happy because they are, because he was able to achieve this, because he loves them, because he could at times believe they love him back, like he always wanted, I think, despite the circumstances that he's the reason for. it's a burdened happiness, hence why he also needs to apologize in the same breath, "for all the trouble he caused".

maybe in an ideal world there is no invasion, and he really could've gotten to be just that pleasant and cheerful freeloader alien, no guilt attached

but if that's the price to pay for having met the hinatas and having been able to give everyone in his platoon a second chance at a peaceful life, I believe that makes him happy. a peaceful life with the people he cares about, even if just for a while, and he's well aware of how fragile it is.

he really is often like "is the invasion all you can think about?" but then it's always weighing on his mind as well. it stings when that costs him the respect of his peers. it stings when that causes the hinatas to doubt him even when he's innocent.

but what choice does he have?

[covenofagatha]

Saw you're taking requests and decided to toss one your way!

Agatha x reader, reader has had a really tough day and Agatha helps put her into subspace to relax. Some soft!dom Agatha with a splash of praise, degradation, mommy and maybe some size kink? And of course some fluffy aftercare after reader has been thoroughly fucked out of her mind❤

Hope you enjoy! (Disclaimer: I've never written subspace before so hopefully I did it justice, along with everything else you wanted)

Bad day

When Agatha comes home to find that you had a bad day, she takes it upon herself to make you feel better

Word count: 2600

Warnings: praise kink, degradation kink, subspace, size kink, mommy kink, oral, strap-on, aftercare, smut, and fluff (I may have missed one)

You’re on your last nerve when you get to your afternoon class on Wednesday. 

Your car didn’t start in the morning so your girlfriend, Agatha, had to drop you off at work, which you’d never complain about, except she had still been asleep when this happened so you were almost late because she had to get ready. 

And then work was awful. You had a shift at the popular retail store in town and it seemed like every customer who came in was on a mission to personally ruin your day. 

From dissatisfaction with the prices to vomit all over the restroom floor, it seemed like nothing could go right. 

Agatha had been at work herself so you had to call one of your college friends to give you a ride after. 

And now you had to sit in a class on Personality Theory for the next three hours and listen to your professor drone off on tangents. You would be getting your tests back from last week though, and you were hoping you had done well. 

“Alright, before we get started, I’ll go ahead and pass out your exams. Once I call your name, you can come up and look at it,” your professor says and you anxiously tap your fingers on the desk while you wait for your turn. 

Finally, he says your name. Butterflies in your stomach, you walk to the front to look and it’s like you’ve been punched in the gut. 

There must be something wrong, you don’t understand how you missed this many. 

Red ink stains the page and you have to clench your jaw together to keep your composure. Tears prick at your eyes as you hand the exam back to your professor and head back to your seat, burning with shame. 

It seems like it’s just one thing after another. 

You barely pay attention for the rest of class, head spinning with thoughts of how bad you did, how everything sucks, how you just want to go home. 

Agatha texts you a few times during the three hour time span, just checking in on you, but you don’t even respond. She always says that you get too wrapped up in your own brain and you know she’s right. You do let her know that you won’t need a ride home, not sure you could take the older woman’s softness right now. 

You just want to take a shower and lie in bed. 

Class finally ends and you order an Uber instead of asking a friend to take you home. When you get in these moods, you don’t want to talk to anyone. 

You grunt in response to the driver’s question of asking how you are and then the rest of the ride is spent in silence. It’s not often you get in such a foul mood, but when it does, it’s tough. 

When you make it through the front door of Agatha’s home, you immediately collapse on the couch and breathe in the blanket that still has her scent. She’ll be home soon and now you just want her to give you a big hug and tell you that everything will be alright. 

You hear keys jingle in the front door maybe ten minutes later and you sit up on the couch expectantly, heartbeat picking up. You’ve been with Agatha for six months now and she still managed to have the same effect on you that she had at the beginning. 

“Hey, baby,” she calls out, seeing the lights on, and she makes her way to the living room to find you swaddled in her favorite blanket on the couch. She frowns, instantly able to tell something is wrong. Usually you get up to give her a kiss. “You okay?” 

And then it’s like a dam breaks. You start sobbing and telling her all the things that have gone wrong that day and she instantly sits down next to you, engulfing you into a hug and whispering that everything will be okay. 

She lets you cry for a bit, hand stroking your hair, making soothing sounds. Eventually, you calm down enough to take slow, shaky breaths. 

“I’m sorry, doll. Sounds like you had a rough day,” she says, pressing a kiss to your head and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You nod in agreement. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You shrug while you think about it. And then you lean in and chastely kiss her lips. 

When you pull back, she’s smirking. 

“You want mommy to help you?” She coos and instantly, a fire awakens in your belly at the use of your favorite name for her. Your head bobs up and down eagerly but she tuts and grabs your jaw to hold it still. “Words, baby.” 

“Yes please, mommy,” you whisper. No one can make you feel as good as Agatha can. 

“Good girl,” Agatha hums and the fire gets worse. “What do you want?” 

You squirm on the couch, just looking at her, begging with wide eyes. 

“Why don’t you show me what you want?” You whine and grab her hand and bring it down to your shorts. “Oh, do you want me to touch you?” 

“Please,” you force out again. “Touch me, mommy.” 

Her grin is wicked as she lays you back down on the couch, positioning herself so she’s holding her weight above you. Your noses are almost close enough to touch. 

“Does my little baby want me to reward her like the perfect little angel that she is?” Agatha purrs and you gasp, feeling your head start to get fuzzy. She plays with the waistband of your shorts and your hips buck up involuntarily. You make a sort of strangled noise from your throat – all you can do, really – and she shushes you. “Just relax, doll. Let mommy take care of you.” You whimper as she kisses your nose and moves down your body to undress you. 

You feel like you’re on a different planet when Agatha pats your waist so you can lift yourself up for her to take your shorts and underwear off. 

“There we go, so good for me,” she says, leaving kisses against your thighs. You moan, senses heightened. You babble something incoherently and you can hear her chuckling at you. “Baby, you’re absolutely dripping for me.” 

Her fingers move up and down your slit, collecting wetness, and sounds are pulled out of your mouth by her administration. 

“Does that feel good, hon?” 

Your head lulls back on the couch and you try to say something to affirm her question. 

“Aw, is my little baby in subspace right now?” Something in the back of your mind tells you that you must be, but you’re too blissed out to answer. 

And then her tongue is on your pussy and you couldn’t say a word even if you tried. If you didn’t already feel like you were floating then, you sure do now. Your back arches off the couch as she sucks on your clit but her hands come up to hold you down. 

“Be a good girl for me and let mommy do all the work.” 

Your moans get louder as she keeps eating you out and you’ve never felt this good before. It’s like all your worries and stress and frustration that built up over the day are melting away to leave you in a puddle of pleasure. 

“Mommy, so close,” you slur, hands digging into the couch beneath you. Her teeth scrape against your clit and she moans into you and it sends you into an explosive orgasm. 

You’re not sure you’ve ever cum that hard. 

She licks you through it and you have to pull her away after a while because you become sensitive. 

Agatha comes up to kiss you, long and hard, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. 

“Do you want to try something new tonight, baby?” She asks once she pulls away and you nod eagerly before even asking what it is. You trust her more than anyone. “I’ll be right back.” She gives you one last parting kiss and quickly runs upstairs. 

She’s up there for a few minutes while you lay on the couch, still in a trance-like haze. 

And then she comes back down and your mouth falls open. 

Attached to her hips is the biggest strap-on you’ve ever seen. She must have just bought it. You had gotten to where you could take the toys you had pretty easily, but you are certain that this will stretch you out so much more than them. 

“Mommy,” you whisper, eyes widening as she comes back over to the couch. You can see that she’s holding lube in one hand. 

“Mommy wants to see if your tiny, little pussy can fit her big cock,” she says and a thrill runs through you despite yourself. “Might have to work you up to it.” 

Your legs part without thinking and she laughs. 

“So desperate for me, aren’t you? My perfect, little slut.” You gasp at the words, feeling yourself get even more wet. 

While you loved the praise from her, degradation almost turned you on more. 

“You have to relax, baby,” she reminds you, moving to kneel on the couch between your legs and pushing them even more open. She rubs your clit and slides two fingers in easily. You grind up on her fingers, trying to pull them in more. “Look at how well you take my fingers. So good for mommy. You can’t get enough of them, can you?” 

You shake your head and groan when she curls them just right. 

“Such a good whore for mommy,” she sighs. “Can you take another?” 

“Please,” you gasp out, walls clenching around the two already inside you. She pulls them and you feel empty, but that feeling is quickly gone when she pushes three in you. The stretch feels so good and your hips meet her every thrust, the pleasure in you already growing. 

And then it’s gone. Your head flies up to look at her wrapping the hand wet with you around her strap and coating it. And then she opens the bottle of lube and pours a hefty amount in her other hand to also stroke the toy with. 

“Are you ready, baby?” 

“Go slow, mommy,” you tell her, even though you know that she will. “You’re so big.” 

“You’re going to look so pretty, sweetheart, stretched around my big cock,” she says and positions the tip at your entrance. “Like a little, perfect slut. 

The first push steals all the air from your lungs. 

“Fuck,” you groan. You’ve never been so full in your life and you barely have any of it inside you. Agatha doesn’t move, just rubs small circles on your thighs and waits for you to tell her you’re okay. 

It takes a few moments for you to adjust. It’s definitely easier in the headspace that you’re in right now. 

“Okay,” you say and Agatha obeys, slowly moving forward inside you. She stops when your breathing gets strangled and doesn’t move again until you’re back to normal. 

“God, your little pussy looks so good taking my big cock so well,” she grunts once she finally bottoms out. If your mind was clearer, you’d tease her about the size kink she so clearly has. “How are you doing, baby? Can I move?” 

“Please, mommy,” you beg, still feeling euphoric. Every drag of her cock against your walls now feels like heaven. She smirks and starts to move.

She starts slow at first, just short, slow strokes to make sure that you’re still comfortable, and then she starts to really fuck you. 

The pace Agatha sets is rough and bruising and you can hear the wet, squelching sounds that the toy makes as it pushes back inside you every thrust, a mix of your wetness and lube. 

“Mommy,” is all you can pant as she fucks into you over and over again, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on her. 

“So fucking good, sweetheart, you’re taking my cock so well, such a perfect slut for mommy,” Agatha mutters, never slowing down once. If you were already in subspace before, you’re not sure you have a word for what state you’re in right now. There are not even semblances of thoughts in your head, there is only Agatha and the pleasure she is giving you. You can’t even remember what you were in such a bad mood about earlier. 

She reaches down to rub your clit again and you hear someone moan obscenely loudly. 

You think it might have been you. 

All you know is that you’re getting so close again you can taste it. She seems like she can tell because she somehow speeds up, which you didn’t think was possible. Little gasps are forced out of your mouth with every push and your walls are tightening so much around her that it makes it hard for her to thrust. 

“So good, baby, you’re taking me so well,” Agatha chants, a hand reaching up to play with your nipple under your shirt. “So perfect, such a perfect slut, my perfect good girl. Cum for mommy, cum all over mommy’s big cock.” 

She angles her hips just right and rubs your clit hard and you spasm, back bowing off the couch. You’ve never felt pleasure this extreme; it feels like you’re having an out-of-body experience. All the tension in your body is gone and you pant heavily as Agatha pulls out of you. 

“You okay, baby?” She asks and you wheeze a laugh. 

“M’okay,” you say happily, a slow smile spreading onto your face. You can feel your head clearing with the loss of her touch. 

“Let me get a washcloth, alright? I’ll be right back, I promise.” She gives you a kiss on your head and she’s back in what seems like seconds with a warm towel. You wince at the feeling of it between her legs but it helps. “Do you want to move to bed?” 

You nod, but you’re not actually sure if you can stand up based on the jelly feeling in your legs. Agatha seems to understand this without you saying anything and she scoops you off the couch bridal style and carries you up the stairs. 

You giggle and burrow your head into the crook of her neck, breathing her in and feeling her against you. 

“You did so good, baby,” she whispers. 

“Thank you, Agatha. I really needed that.” 

She pauses for a second in the hallway to peck your lips. “I know you did. I’m happy to help, sweetheart. Whatever you need.” 

Once in the bedroom, Agatha helps you into some comfy pajamas and makes you take sips of water from the bottle on her nightstand. You lay down and she pulls the covers over you both, pulling you close to her so she can wrap an arm around you. 

“You’re so perfect, baby, you know that?” She murmurs. “I love you so much.” She kisses you softly, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair. 

“I love you too,” you mumble in-between kisses. No one has ever made you feel more loved than Agatha. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she continues and you blush. “I know you had a hard day today, but tomorrow will be better. You’re so strong. You’re my perfect girl. I love you.” 

And she keeps whispering the sweetest things into your ear, and you drift off to sleep in her arms, feeling like nothing was ever wrong. 

[thegnomelord]

Thinking of flying as a dragon with dragon Price

Price knows that after the loss of his wing he's never flying again, not on his own. But the sky still calls for him like a mother for her lost child, for a grounded dragon is a dead dragon, regardless of if he still breathes or not.

His body still craves the freedom of flight despite what he says of being over it, every flight in the helicopter or plane feeling twice as wrong as it did before, deadened nerves gnawing on his brain until they force the atrophied remnants of wing muscles to twitch every time he jumps out of the plane. He resigns himself to just watch the other fliers from the ground, you often finding him on the roof of the base watching the birds whenever the phantom ache of his lost wing returns.

And an idea comes to you.

Price just grunts when you wrap your arms around his pudgy belly, forcing his remaining wing to spread out so you can press your chest against his back.

"Need somethin'?" He grumbles, stuck between wanting to lean in to feel your warmth and pull away, what dragon would even want a flightless wyrm like him?, never noticing your arms lock in place.

"Yeah," Your breath fans his ear, lips kissing the skin. "Want you to fly." He can feel you grin.

"What nonsense are you-" Your wings spread out before he can finish and with a strong gust of wind and a beat of your wings you're shooting up into the sky with him in your arms. "- oh you bloody wanker!" He screams, the cigar slipping from his claws as he scrambled to hold onto you, wind blowing in his face.

You laugh as you soar through the air, "Relax!" You yell over the screeching wind, holding him tight.

And Price doesn't know when it happens, but his body calms down, adrenaline settling to sleep like a worn out beast. The wind fluttering his wing membrane feels nice, the sensation of the sky yielding beneath his flapping wing forcing a shiver down his spine, doesn't even notice when he starts purring.

You grin when you feel his chest rumble beneath your hands, dipping and diving through the sky and Price recognizes your movements — he spent decades practicing the same arial moves to woo future mates. And he can't help but smile, eyes closing and allowing his body to remember what it's like to fly.

----

Idl this came to me suddenly and I word vomited all over the page :/,

[lesservillain]

inmate!eddie munson x reader

cw: smut, pregnancy talks and all that come with it, mentions of nausea and vomiting, hospitalization, i think that's it?

wc: 19k

a/n: finally. it's finally here. this has been a two year in the making project for me and I am so happy to have this out. on the outside was my first ever fic and i can't believe i'm actually saying good bye to these characters. i hope you all enjoy.

“Eddieee?” You call out for your fiance from where you stand in front of your refrigerator.

You were about to change out the calendar for the new year, head pounding as if you had celebrated the New Year drinking with everyone else despite your sobriety. Eddie had only had a few beers, but he woke up this morning feeling fresh as a daisy in comparison to how sick you felt. 

At first you were worried that maybe you had caught the flu. You hadn’t been feeling the best for a couple days, but chalked it up to how hard you had been working right before winter break to get all your students' grades in on time for the end of the semester. You’d also volunteered to chaperone the winter formal where, unfortunately, one of the students spiked the punch. Thankfully Eddie had been your chaperone date and handled the situation for you while you got sick in the bathroom hoping that you weren’t going to relapse after 18 months of sobriety.

But, now that you’re looking at the calendar all marked through, including the  ones with a red dot for your expected period days and little pink hearts on the subsequent fertile days, you realize that those days came and passed without notice. 

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Eddie asks as he pulls the new Iron Maiden hoodie you got him for the holiday over his head, curls bouncing as they are freed. Bear follows right behind him, coming up to you expectantly as he sees his box of treats sitting on top of the fridge.

“Babe, did I have a period this month?”

His head cocks to the side as he looks at you, eyes squinting and tongue poking out as he thinks about all the crazy shit that has happened this last month. With your crazy schedule and his extra hours at work, the two of you had barely had time to spend together, making it up to each other once your break had finally hit. But as he wracks his brain, he doesn’t recall you asking him to bring you home any sweets or crying any more than usual.

“Um, not that I can remember,” he says with a shake of his head. He watches as your eyes widen, a toothy smile spreading across your face before you cover it with your hands. It takes him a moment to figure out what has you all giddy, but when it hits him he’s flying to you, almost tripping over Bear as he wraps you up in a hug to spin you around. “Holy shit, please tell me you’re telling me what I think you’re telling me,” he says for lack of better words, brain short circuiting with excitement, placing you back down on your feet. 

“I mean, I can’t make any promises until I take a test,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, not wanting to get your hopes up after having your heart broken so many times before.

“Can you take a test now?” Eddie asks with a childish excitement. 

“I think so,” you say flipping between the calendar pages, now crushed from Eddie's embrace. Upon further inspection, you realize you’ve actually not had a period since October. It makes your head reel back, but you keep that information to yourself just in case. “Let-let me go take one,” you say shakily, nerves starting to get to you as you swiftly walk to the bathroom. The door barely closes before you’re digging under the sink for a test, cursing when the box you had under the sink comes up empty. “Shit,” you curse, throwing the box into the bathroom trash can with force.

“Are you okay?” you hear from the other side of the door, followed by a whine from  your dog. You startle the both of them with the force you use to swing the door open. 

“I took the last one already,” you say with frustration, “I’m all out!”

“Well, come on, lets go get your shoes on,” Eddie brushes your frustration to the side, grabbing your hand and leading you out to the couch. He grabs your boots for you, unlacing them so he can put them on your feet. You can’t even stay mad at your own shortcoming when he’s treating you so well.

“Eddie, I can put my own shoes on,” you say with a chuckle. His big brown eyes look up at you with faux offense, still grabbing your foot and slipping it into the boot. 

“I don’t think so, princess,” he says with a playful sass that you’ve grown fond of, because it really only comes out when he’s in a giddy mood like this. “I can’t have you doing anything that may make the baby uncomfortable, like bending over or lifting a finger.”

Your breath hitches at his words. The baby. The one that may or may not be making a home inside of you right now. Eddie’s baby, with you. 

Bile threatens to travel higher as you look at how he’s beaming in front of you. Eddie’s never known the heartbreak that you’ve known when it comes to these things; wanting something so bad and yet your body doesn’t comply. He’s been so patient and understanding since you’ve started trying. Everything that you wish you had all those years when you were with Henry, which only made you want to give him a baby more. Anyone so kind, caring, and self sacrificing as Eddie deserved everything he’s ever wanted and more. 

Every month that you’ve sat silently sobbing as you stare at the one lonely line while he snores into his pillow none the wiser has been another twist of the guilt covered knife in your gut. He doesn’t ask about it, even if he sees the wrapper sticking out between the tissues you used to clean your tears. But he tends to you with acts of kindness and service, his love language with you. 

The same love language he displayed as he put on your shoes. Same as when he went out to start the car for you, opening the door and fastening your seatbelt, making sure it’s not too snug across your lap. He let you grab your tests, meeting you at the front of the store with a bundle of flowers hidden poorly behind his back. He makes you walk in front of him so he can “surprise you” when you get to the car. 

Eddie practically jumps out of the car to help you out as you arrive back to your house. Bear jumps between the two of you as you two run back to the bathroom, letting out loud giggles and squeals as Eddie pretends to chase you into the bathroom. You close the door on him, catching your breath and wiping tears from your eyes as he bangs on the door for you to let him in. Bear barks at him and Eddie laughs calling him a traitor. When you hear them walk away, presumably so Eddie can let Bear out, you pull the box of tests out of the bag. 

Taking a deep breath, your hands start to shake as you set everything up, reading over the instructions regardless of how many tests you’ve taken. You didn’t want to mess this up. Not this one. Every time someone told you that you would just know when you were pregnant, you thought you knew what they meant, only to be met with the negative test. This time felt different, though. Every tick of the clock was another butterfly in your stomach. And with the closing seconds, you felt your breathing pick up, chest tightening with anticipation. You stand up, hand hovering over the wrapper of the test. Counting one, two, three, before pulling the wrapper away.

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, petting Bear on autopilot. He wasn’t sure how long these tests normally take, but after 10 minutes he was starting to get nervous. What if you were pregnant? It’s a good thing you found a house with a lot of space. He wondered what color you would want him to paint the nursery. Would you want to wait to find out what you’re having or would you want to find out as soon as possible? He would want to know right away, but would wait if you wanted him to. Is your car safe for a baby? He’ll just have to pick up some extra hours to get you a new one. Oh, god, would you want a minivan like Nancy and Jonathan…though, it does come in handy if you have multiple kids. Would you want more kids after this? 

Bear’s ears perk up under Eddie’s touch as the door to the bathroom clicks, the door opening much more gracefully compared to before. He’s on his feet immediately, slightly shuffling as he waits for you to come out. Any thoughts he had before the door opened are immediately evacuated from his mind as he sees the vacant look on your face, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks being the only hint of emotion he can gauge from you. 

His legs move on their own, pulling you into him as your knees buckle. He holds you up as the sobs shake your whole body in his grasp. Everything is automatic for him as your wails echo on the bathroom walls. Lowering you to the edge of the tub, he starts the shower, letting the water warm up as he undresses you, and then himself. He climbs into the tub, pulling you in with him so that the water hits the both of you as you continue to cry.

“Eddie!” Your voice is frantic as you call his name from the kitchen. You hear him running down the hall, a loud thump and a curse towards Bear as the two of them round the corner into the kitchen. 

When you answered the phone, you assumed it was going to be Dustin telling you that he and his new girlfriend, Maggie, would be leaving soon for your double date that he and Eddie worked really hard to find reservations on Valentine’s day for. Instead, you were met with the urgent voice of Wayne’s boss, Bill, who informed you that Wayne had passed out on the line again.

Eddie folded where he stood, spiraling into old memories from close to a decade ago. Bear laid next to where he kneeled while you got the quick details from Bill before hanging up. Quickly, you lead Eddie to the couch so you could lace his converse, pull his Iron Maiden hoodie over his head, and get him out the door and buckled into the passenger seat. 

About halfway to the hospital he finally breaks down, almost scaring you off the road when he cursed loudly, slamming his fist against the window. You let him get it out, offering your hand for him to take when he was ready, which he grabs almost immediately. Pulling your hand against his lips, he kisses your knuckles between sobs, eyes fixed out the side window. 

As you pull into Hawkins General, you let Eddie out at the door so he can get inside as fast as possible. Soon after you park, you make your way up to the room that you were told Wayne was in. You were expecting to walk in and find Wayne still unconscious with Eddie a mess by his side. 

Instead, you could hear the two of them bickering from the hallway. The sound was bittersweet, a smile on your face as you walk in and see a very exasperated Eddie pacing and a disgruntled Wayne sitting cross-armed in the hospital bed like a petulant child. You noticed the oxygen tubes in his nose, and he looked generally worse off than he did when you saw him two weeks ago for Sunday dinner.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me!” Eddie exclaims, not noticing that you’ve walked in the room yet.

“What did he not listen to this time?” You say jokingly as you walk to the other side of Wayne’s bed, leaning in to give him a hug that he returns with an old man grunt.

“Not just me,” Edde starts, “We both told him to go get that cough looked at and he never did. Well guess what? His stubborn ass has fucking pneumonia!”

“Wayne,” you look at him with concern. His eyes remain focused on the foot of the bed, ignoring that he’d been caught. “You’ve had that cough since Christmas. And I remember you promising me that you’d go and get checked out.” 

The old man lets out a sigh that turns into a cough. You place a hand on his back and rub up and down, eliciting an eye roll from Eddie as he watches you baby his uncle.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to go, but I just haven’t had the time.”

“Oh, you have to be joking. You couldn’t find time between your shows to pick up the phone and call the doctor?”

“Eddie,” you give him a pointed look. 

“You can’t be--”

Eddie’s words are cut off by the doctor pulling open the curtain to Wayne’s room. The balding, older man greets you all, confirming some information with Wayne before going over some more of his test results. 

“Everything else came back fairly normal. Your blood pressure was a little high, but that’s to be expected. Just make sure you keep up on your blood pressure medication. Don’t want to have a stroke and a heart attack within a year, right?” 

The doctor is the only one laughing at his joke. Eddie’s eyes snap to Wayne, who grumbles “shit” under his breath. But Eddie keeps his mouth shut, letting the doctor finish and leave before finally speaking.

“So, when the hell did you have another heart attack, Wayne?”

“Eddie,” Wayne rolls his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No,” Eddie says, waving his hands in front of him, “I know that I don’t live with you anymore, but I think it’s only fair that you tell me if you have another fucking heart attack!”

“After what you did last time, you really think I’d tell you?”

“Damn it, Wayne! Don’t hold that shit above my head!”

“Okay, okay,” you move around the bed to stand between the two of them. “That’s enough, you two. Wayne, I get why you might be discouraged to tell Eddie that you had another heart attack, but you have to understand that things are different now. Shit, even I’m hurt that you didn’t say anything.” He looks up at you with a wounded expression.

“And Eddie,” you place your hands gently on either cheek before tightening your grip, “You need to stop yelling before you get us kicked out.” His expression drops to annoyance, grabbing your wrists lightly and pulling your hands away. “Wayne only wants what’s best for you, just as you want what’s best for him. So…why don’t we talk about what we’ve discussed before.”

His eyes meet yours, mood shifting between you as he nods his head, reaching out to take your hand in his. When you turn around, Wayne is eyeing you both suspiciously, letting out another cough.

“Wayne,” Eddie starts, “When we got the house, the two of us sat down and talked about what we would do if you had another heart attack. Or if anything major happened to you again. And, um, we decided that we would want you to move in with us if--”

“No.”

“Wayne--”

“Nope.”

“Just hear us out,” you plead. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “Please?”

“...Fine,” he says with a huff. 

Eddie smiles slyly at you, thankful that he has you around to be on his side.

“Uncle Wayne,” you start, hitting him in that soft spot when you call him uncle, “We would really like for you to move in with us. Not to take away any of your freedom or anything. Actually, you’d be more free…because we also want you to retire from the plant.” 

Wayne’s brow raises at your suggestion. 

“Eddie and I make enough money between us that you wouldn’t need to work unless you wanted to. You’d have all the free time to fish and hunt and watch your trash TV. Which, may I remind you, we have that big TV in the living room now. Plus, Bear would love to have someone at home with him all day.”

He grunts again. Bear loves Wayne, but Wayne is steadfast in his dislike for Bear, even though you’ve caught him giving him people food and the occasional scratch behind the ear.

“You sure y’all want me to move in? Won't get to have all your alone time together anymore,” he asks, seeking confirmation of your proposal. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, pops,” Eddie says with a smile, “We’ll figure that out ourselves.”

The next month weeks flew by for you and Eddie. You’d been busy prepping your sophomores for the upcoming state testing that takes place the week before Spring Break as well as running yard sales during the most uncharacteristically warm winter that Indiana was giving you to get rid of any of Wayne’s extra stuff. There was also the babysitting for Chrissy and Jason you’d been doing while they remodel their kitchen. And that was just your schedule, as Eddie had a slew of his own obligations on his end with work and prepping the house for Wayne to move in.

The two of you found it almost impossible to have any time together. Almost being the key word here, because Eddie could find time to bed you like it was his job. The week before Wayne finally made his big move, the two of you were on each other like rabbits at any given moment. 

Now Wayne was fully moved in. He opted to rent the trailer out for cheap to a single mom who was looking around the park for something that she could afford for her and her son. He finished his last week at the plant, his boss and coworkers throwing him a surprise retirement party at the pool hall they like to frequent. Eddie and you decided to get a hold of his longtime friend down in Florida and sent him away for a week to have a buddies trip and to “get some more vitamin D in your system after working the night shift for so long” according to Eddie.

Eddie may or may not have purposely planned Wayne’s trip during the same time that you’d be off for spring break, but wouldn’t admit that to you. He just wanted to get you all to himself so bad, eating his words to Wayne about having alone time together. The only thing making him feel a little less crazy about the whole thing is your little remarks about how it would be even worse if it was a baby you were bringing home, and that at least the two of you are still getting a full night's sleep. So, he sucked it up until the day finally came that he was to take Wayne to the airport.

He quietly gave your sleeping form a peck on the cheek that morning before the two of them left, not wanting to wake you since you loved to sleep in on your days off. You’d been feeling sick again, similar to how you felt right before the winter break a few months back. Eddie was worried that they were putting too much responsibility on you by having you teach two grades at the same time, but you assured him that you could handle it, that once you were off for the summer that you’d feel better. 

You woke up around 11 am with a headache so bad it made you sick to your stomach. You’d been having them off and on for about a week, barely able to stand the fluorescent lights of your classroom or the smell of the coffee pot in the break room. At least your sophomore students spent most of the morning testing, and by the end of the week you were playing a movie for all of your classes as an excuse to keep the lights off. 

After puking up bile for 20 minutes, your stomach gave you a break so that you could make yourself look presentable enough for the doctor’s office. Eddie made you promise him that if you weren’t better by today that you would go and get checked out. So you shove some buttered toast into your mouth and cross your fingers in hopes that you’ll make it to the doctor without having to pull over and spill your guts.

Thankfully, the urgent care in town wasn’t busy and you were taken back to a room fairly quickly. The nurse asked you a slew of questions in a monotone voice as your mouth watered from the wave of nausea that hit you again. When you jumped up suddenly to wretch in the small trash can on the floor, you heard her say something about a pregnancy test in a passive manner. 

“Pregnancy test?” You ask between heaving breaths. 

“Yes, dear,’ she says nonchalantly as she continues to write on her stack of papers. A different feeling filled your stomach then, coating it with nerves that seemed to distract you long enough to get you off the floor. 

Ever since the let down from New Years, you and Eddie hadn’t talked much about kids other than some off hand comments here and there. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to keep trying, but the two of you decided to go with the flow and let things happen if they happen. 

At least that’s what you told anyone who asked. 

In your head you’ve been beating yourself up all over again, just like you did for so many years, which is probably only making you more sick. You almost tell the nurse not to even bother with the test, but she seemed like she wasn’t having the best day so you just let her take your blood and be on her merry way. 

When the doctor finally comes in, he gives you a quick look over and tells you to take some benadryl for your symptoms. It left you feeling annoyed, wishing you had just stayed home and done that yourself instead of wasting your time coming in.

As you leave he tells you he’ll call you later in the day with your test results and any other instructions that he seems necessary. It’s not exactly what you want to hear, but you didn’t protest as you signed some consent forms at check out, just wanting to get back to your bed.

When you woke up a little while later, you had to admit that you did feel much better than in the morning. Maybe you were just getting to an age where your allergies were getting more sensitive.

As you amble into the kitchen, the flashing light from your answering machine catches your eye. You press play as you open the door to let Bear out, listening to the machine play as you start to pull out everything to make a late lunch before Eddie gets home from his half day at work.

You have 3 new messages.

First new message.

Beep. 

Hey guys, it’s Dustin. I was calling to see if we could get a game set up for Friday? The guys and Erica are going to be in town and we’ve been talking about playing a game with everyone together again. Will said he would DM if you didn’t want to, but we’d like to have you back in the throne if the missus could get us into the theater room. Give me a call back as soon as you can and let me know. Bye!

Beep.

Second message.

Hey, sweetheart. Just wanted to let you know I got to work okay. I’m gonna stop and pick up a pizza on the way home, so don’t worry about cooking dinner tonight. Want you to be as relaxed and rested as possible for what I got in store for you tonight. Love you, baby.

Beep.

Third message.

Hello, this is Dr. Mando calling for…in regards to her test results. Everything came back negative in regards to your flu and strep tests. Blood work wise the only elevated result was for your HCG, which puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We recommend you follow up with your OBGYN from this point on for any more treatment. If our results are needed for their records please have them fax a request form to-

[REWIND]

-ep tests. Blood work wise the only elevated result was for your HCG, which puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We recommend you follow up with your OBG-

[REWIND]

-only elevated result was for your HCG, which puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We-

[REWIND]

-hich puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We recom-

Bear scratching at the door pulled you from your trance as you played back the message over and over again. You didn’t want to walk away, afraid that if you left the machine that the message would somehow disappear. Or that if you played the message again the words would change. Or that you would wake up and realize that you’re having a benadryl induced dream while you’re still asleep in your bed. But the feeling of Bear’s fur brushing against your leg throttles you into reality. 

You are awake right now.

And for the first time in your life you’ve been pregnant for more than 6 weeks. 

With haste, you pick up the phone line and begin to dial the first person who you know can help you.

Keeping secrets from Eddie was a challenge. His intuition when it came to you was almost scary. At times it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself. Which, honestly, he might. But, it doesn’t help when he wants to be with you every waking second of the day. Something that you want, too, but every time you look at him you have to duck your head or avert your gaze to keep yourself from blurting out the news to him. 

It’s also been incredibly hard to deny all of his advances.

He’s not pressured you to do anything with him, never has, but you can tell he’s letting your rejections get to him in a self doubting way. Even when you did give him head hoping it would be enough, his pouty lip almost got you when you told him not to return the favor.

You do feel for him. The two of you had been planning to have quite the week with Wayne being out of the house. But even if you could have sex with him, not wanting to risk anything with how rough he can get at times, you honestly weren’t in the mood anyway. Benadryl was the only thing helping with your nausea and headaches so you were constantly drowsy. And now you were getting terrible acid reflux on top of it, going through tums like candy.

When you told Eddie that you made an appointment with your primary doctor for Friday morning, he insisted that he take you in case there was anything he could do to help. You told him not to worry about it, keeping from him that the appointment was actually with your OB. You felt guilty when the ultrasound tech handed you the grainy pictures of your little baby because you know that Eddie would have wanted to be with you for this moment, but it would all be worth it tonight as long as everything went to plan.

When you and Eddie pulled into the closed high school later that day, you were greeted by the now familiar, smiling faces of your fiance’s long time friends. It wasn’t often that all of them could get together like this between work, school, and their own families. But even with all of their big ages, the atmosphere as they all embraced each other was of childlike giddiness. You were included in the rounds of hugs and pats on the back as you had been accepted so openly by everyone over the course of yours and Eddie’s relationship. The tightest hug was from Eddie’s best friend, Jeff, the two of you share a knowing look with one another as you part.

Once everyone files inside, they begin to work together to set the old theatre room set up like they had back in the day. It was funny to watch them move around each other out of muscle memory, with a few more grunts and groans than they likely let out all those years ago. 

And as they start to play, the energy in the room becomes electrifying. There isn’t a single person sitting by their second hour in, voices talking over each other as the room is divided over combat choices. Even if you only had a basic understanding of what was happening, you were very much entertained where you sat next to Eddie at the end of the table. 

It was a sight to see Eddie in his element up close. The passion he has for this game was on another level. There’s no way that it was anything less than cathartic for him to be in a state of power like this, playing every part as if he was performing for an audience, using his whole body and voice to play each character as if he was truly in the fantasy world he created.

It made you tear up a bit, having to discreetly wipe your eyes to hide the emotions so as not to make him worry or pull him out of his game. But the images in your head of him playing pretend in the backyard with your child has a lump sitting in your throat. The two of them with pillow cases as capes and sticks as swords slaying dragons (Bear) while you watch them from the kitchen window. 

You end up having to excuse yourself to the restroom, needing a moment to collect yourself in your newly hormonal state. You barely make it into the hallway before the water works start, bee-lining for the closest restroom so you can let it out. Anyone passing by would probably think you were crying over some devastating news with the way you were blubbering and wailing. 

You do your best to clean yourself up, but you know Eddie will be able to tell you’ve been crying. So instead of going straight to the drama room, you decide to go to your classroom and work on some assignments for your classes on Monday. 

After a while, a knock on your door startles you, head whipping to see your man standing at the doorway to your classroom with a concerned look on his face.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asks as he takes a few steps to stand by you at your desk. “Were we boring you with our nerdy game?”

“No, not at all!” You stand from your desk with a shake of your head. “I just wasn’t feeling well and needed a little quiet, that’s all.” You give him a reassuring smile, taking his hand in yours. He raises it to his lips and kisses the knuckles, taking a moment to admire your ring before letting your hands fall, still clasped between the two of you. 

“We’re taking a break right now,” he says with a suggestive tone you know all too well. There’s a mischievous look in his eyes as he glances up at the clock on the wall. “Need to be back in five minutes,” he leans into you, dipping his head to speak low in your ear, “Think that’s enough time for me to get you on your desk like last time?”

You feel the heat flush to your cheeks at the mentions of your previous inappropriate endeavors in this classroom. For a brief moment you consider his proposition, but ultimately you pull away with a sympathetic look.

“As fun as that sounds, you and I both know 5 minutes isn’t enough time for you,” you poke his chest and he gives you a shit eating grin, “And I would be mortified if any of your friends walked in on us because you took too long to come back to your game.”

“It might be too long for me,” he draws out the last word as he runs his hands up and down your sides, “but I think I could take care of you if you’ve got room for me under that desk.” 

His brows move suggestively as he waits for your response, which is just a playful roll of the eye and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Eds, but I’m okay.”

“Well, alright,” he sighs heavily, his tone laced with faux disappointment, “I guess I’ll just starve.” You throw your head back with laughter at his dramatics, him joining you with a fit of giggles of his own. 

You decided to return to the game with him, everyone getting swept up once again in the game's energy that Eddie puts out into the room. The enjoyment is clear with how engaged everyone is, jumping up and down or yelling out like a group of your students rather than a room full of adults. 

Erica and Dustin get into it over a decision in game, and you get to witness Eddie’s potential Dad Mode as he defuses the situation with no one getting their feelings hurt. You can’t help it, but for the rest of the game you subconsciously note little things that he does that may be a preview for how he’s going to handle parenthood with you. And when the group wins against whatever big monster Eddie had them fighting against, you can feel the ache in your cheeks from all the smiling you’ve done while observing them.

“Alright, alright, let’s get this shit cleaned up,” he says as they start to tease him. He gives you a look that you can only interpret as “I totally let them win” before he starts putting away his things. 

“Hey, look what I found,” Jeff suddenly speaks up from across the room. He’s holding up a box that you know has some of their club's shirts in them for the new members. You feel your heart drop into your ass. 

Shit, it’s happening. 

“Looks like they’re still using your old design, Eddie.” Jeff says as he plops the box down on the table. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you focus on not passing out.

“Guess you can’t fix perfection,” Eddie quips back, which elicits a few groans in response.

“Do you have a shirt?”

Your eyes flit to Will where he’s moved to stand next to you. You look at him for a moment before shaking your head, still unable to open your mouth.

“Oh, good idea, kid,” Eddie says as he places a hand on your shoulder. “You sat through a whole game, so that makes you an honorary member.”

You look over to Jeff, who gives you a subtle nod to signal that everything was good to go. It’s not exactly what the two of you had discussed, but this seemed a little more natural for the situation.

As you rise from your chair, you’re able to let out a small “okay” before walking to stand next to Jeff. You take a sharp inhale when you see it, the small bundle of material folded at the top of the other shirts. 

All eyes are on you as you reach down into the box. You pretend to look through the pile before grabbing what you really want, pulling it out of the box and holding it up with both hands. It’s the first time you’re seeing it yourself, the small onesie version of the Hellfire shirt that Eddie made almost 15 years ago, black quarter sleeves and all. It’s exactly what you imagined, and you’re so, so thankful that Jeff was able to bring your vision to life.

“What do you think about this one, Eds?” 

The words roll off your tongue without you thinking, your mouth moving on its own as it’s tired of waiting for your brain to catch up. Flipping the onesie around for the table to see, your eyes find Eddie’s. You watch in real time as the emotions come and go from his features; ignorant joy, confusion, and realization.

“No way!” You hear Dustin shout, too focused on Eddie to pay him any attention though.

“Dude holy shit!”

“Hell yeah man! It’s about time!”

“I call dibs on babysitting!”

“Are you serious?” His voice cracks, a loud sniffle escaping as his body starts to shake. Fat tears roll down his reddening cheeks that he tries to wipe with his sleeve. “Is this real?”

You nod, your own tears coming back once again. “Ten weeks,” you say as you exhale, doing your best to hold it together.

Eddie moves quickly to be by your side, taking your face in his hands and crashing his lips into yours. Collective oohs and awes swirl around you at the display of affection between you. When he pulls away he uses the collar of his shirt to wipe the tears from his eyes, letting out an airy chuckle. 

You hold the onesie out for him to take, and he holds it in his hands with such delicacy, as if it's the baby itself. 

“When did you find out?” He asks with a sniffle, not taking his eyes off the little article of clothing.

“On Monday, after my appointment.”

“You’ve known since Monday?” He almost seems upset, but there’s no way he could be mad at you right now. “Well, I guess that explains a lot.”

“I’m sorry, Eds. Trust me, it was really hard not to say anything. But, I feel like it finally paid off. All thanks to Jeff.”

You turn to gesture to him, and Jeff takes a small bow. “Happy to do my part for my future niece and or nephew. Just gotta let me know if I need to make another one in case it’s twins.”

“Twins?!” Eddie looks at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile.

“It’s not twins. Here,” you walk over to your purse and pull the strip of pictures from your purse. “See for yourself.”

Eddie takes the picture from you and examines them. Excited laughter takes over him. “Holy shit, I’m gonna be dad!” The gang surrounds him, congratulating the both of you.

“What if he sees it and doesn’t get it?”

“Babe, the sign literally says ‘Welcome home Grandpa’. I know he’s old but I’m sure he’ll catch on pretty quickly.”

Eddie and you stand at the end of the gate in the Indianapolis airport waiting for Wayne to make his way down the tunnel. The two of you thought it would be fun to surprise him about his promotion when you pick him up, making a day out of it to find him a new mug to surprise him with as well. Eddie holds the gift bag in one hand while you hold the sign, both of you skimming the crowd of people for the balding Munson in the mix.

“There he is!” Eddie nudges you, pointing into the crowd, “Hold it up so he can see!”

You raise the sign above your head as Eddie waves to get Wayne’s attention. Even from where you’re standing you can see the old man smile, then quint to read your sign. He’s almost to you before the look on his face changes.

“What the--What the hell did y’all do while I was gone?” Wayne drops his bags and wraps his arms around the two of you.

“Technically it was before you left,” Eddie laughs, returning his uncles embrace.

“Is that why y’all sent me away then? Do I gotta move back out to make room in the house now?”

“No, of course not,” you laugh, handing him the sign to look at. 

“We’re not about to kick out Hawkin’s next great babysitter,” Eddie says as he puts a hand on Wayne’s shoulder. The older man huffs out a laugh, smile wide as he runs his fingers over the word grandpa. 

“So that’s the real reason you wanted me to move in,” he says, looking at the two of you again. “I thought I was supposed to be retired?”

“Well, I hope your time off was enough because we’ll need you on duty in about 9 months.” Wayne shakes his head. Eddie hands Wayne the gift bag and he opens it to find the mug inside. 

“I love my Grandpa,” Wayne reads from the mug, a hand going to his eyes as he wipes away tears. “Shit you guys. I’m so happy for ya.” Tears start to well up in your own eyes and you pull Wayne in for a side hug. 

The three of you make your way home, discussing your future with the baby the whole way. Talks of all the diapers you’ll need to get, who will get up in the middle of the night to feed and change diapers, names and all the other fun parts that come with being a parent.

“So we gotta paint soon,” Wayne says from the passenger seat. “Do y’all have a colour picked out?” 

“Since we won't know the gender for a while,” you say from the back seat, “we talked about painting the baby’s room a light green for now. We can always paint it again later down the road.” 

“That sounds nice,” Wayne says with a nod. “We can pick some up this weekend and I’ll paint while the two of you are at work. It’s warm enough out that I can open the window so the smell won’t get to ya.”

“You sure you wanna do that by yourself?” Eddie asks, turning into the driveway. 

“Sure, gives me a break from the couch. I know the two of you are gonna be busy so might as well make myself useful.”

“We would really appreciate that, Uncle Wayne,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turns back to look at you, resting his hand on yours. 

“What’s wrong?” Robin says from her spot next to you at the bathroom sink. The two of you, plus Steve and Eddie, had decided to take a trip to the mall today. This was your third trip to the restroom since you’d been there and you could tell Robin was getting suspicious. 

“If you have a UTI or something you definitely need to go to the doctor, you know?”

“I’m fine, Robin.” You dry your hands, tossing the paper towel in the trash. “I just had a lot of coffee this morning,” you lie. 

The truth was that you were planning on surprising her and Steve today with a pit stop in the baby clothes store that Missy and Nancy had gone to when you went shopping with them a few months ago. It was a newer store and you knew that it would be fun little way to tell them your news. 

“You have to lay off that stuff,” Robin voices her concern. “I’m pretty sure I heard it makes your boobs shrink.”

“I don’t think so Bobbie.”

The two of you reconvene back with Steve and Eddie who were waiting for you on a bench. Eddie looked like a real dad with sitting there with the shopping bags in his hands. You took a moment to admire how long his hair was starting to get before they noticed you. 

“Ready for our last stop?” Eddie says, suddenly standing up. He’s had a nervous air about him this whole trip, and you don’t know why. Steve and Robin are going to be over the moon when you tell them, but you suppose it’s just because he’s excited. 

“Yeah, where did you want to go?” Steve asks, looking between you two. 

“Oh, just a shop over by where we parked.” 

The four of you make your way toward the other side of the mall. Eddie and you both stop at in front of the Baby Gap, Robin and Steve pausing when they realize you’ve stopped. 

“You good?” Steve asks. 

“Yep, we just need to pop in here.”

Steve and Robin look up at the store and share a look. 

“Does Nancy need stuff?” Robin asks quizzically. 

“Nope, we just need to get some things for ourselves,” you say, staring at them hoping it will click. 

“What do you guys need at Baby Gap?”

“Duh, what else do they sell here, Steve?” Robin nudges him. And then she looks at you with wide eyes. “Oh my god, you guys are buying baby clothes?”

Eddie and you both nod excitedly. Robin squeals, bouncing up and down. Steve still looks confused. 

“Why are we excited?”

“They’re pregnant, dingus!”

Now it was Steve’s turn to look at you with saucers for eyes. 

“Nuh-uh,” he says with a grin. 

“Yes, sir,” Eddie nods, putting an arm around you. 

Steve grabs Robins arm and shakes it, still looking at the two of you. “No way!” He says excitedly. “About damn time!”

“How far along are you? Do you know the gender yet?” Robin asks in quick succession. 

“I’m about 12 weeks. We won't know the gender for a little while longer, but Wayne already picked out the nursery room color for us.”

“Oh I bet he was over the moon to find out,” Robin coos. 

“He was. He’s very excited to be a grandpa.”

“Grandpa Wayne, oh my god.”

“Do you have any names picked out?” Steve asks. 

“We don’t have any names yet,” you say, looking up at Eddie, “But we’re open to ideas.”

“Well, Steve is a good name—Ow!”

“They’re not naming their baby after you Steve.”

“It was just a suggestion!”

“Besides, Robin is more gender neutral anyway.”

“Eddie.”

Brown eyes dart from the TV and over to where you stand in the doorway. Eddie shifts and stands, walking over to you with urgency. 

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” He asks with concern. 

You sniffle, looking up at him through your lashes. “We don’t have any pickles…” 

Eddie sighs in relief, glad that your tone wasn’t due to something serious. 

“We don’t,” he confirms, looking down at you. “But I’m guessing we need to remedy that?” 

You nod, and Eddie can’t help but giggle. The stage of weird cravings had started a week ago and you’d been asking him to buy you the most random foods. Bananas and hot sauce, sour cream that you ate from the tub, and now pickles. 

“Can you get strawberry ice cream, too?” You ask sheepishly. 

“Of course,” he assures you. “Anything for my babies.”

Your emotions get to you with that, and you can’t help but cry. Eddie would be concerned if this hadn’t become a semi-regular occurrence for you now. He simply pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head. 

Bear makes his way over to you, looking up as the two of you embrace. You’re both sure he knows something is up, because he’s been by you constantly since you found out you were pregnant. It's almost like he’s standing guard to make sure no one gets near you. 

“I’m okay, Bear,” you say, dropping down to squat at his level. He pants as you give him ear scritches, enjoying every second of it. Eddie takes the opportunity to grab his shoes and put them on. 

“Anything else you might want me to grab while I’m out?”

“More milk? And probably more cereal for you and Wayne. I think I ate the last of it earlier.”

“I’ll get you your own box.”

Bear rested at your feet as you graded papers at the dining room table. It was getting close to the end of the school year and you didn’t want to let being pregnant put you behind. 

Most of your kids were passing, which was a relief to you. It was a hard year but teaching two grades was an experience that you were glad you got to have. Thankfully the school was able to find a replacement teacher for your sophomore class next year, thanks to a recommendation by yours truly. 

“It’ll be so nice for you to have someone like Will teaching with you,” Eddie says as he finishes making you lunch. 

“It's going to be a big change from middle school, though,” you say as you set down your grading marker. “It was for me at least.”

“Will’s smart, he can manage. Plus he’ll have you for support.” 

“Only for the first few months. Then I’ll be gone for most of the year.”

You had an appointment a few weeks back to find out you were due around Halloween. The irony of it all was that you probably got pregnant right after you had taken the test back in January. Life works in mysterious ways you thought. 

“True, but he can always call here if he needs something. Plus, I’m sure the other teachers are going to love him.”

“Oh they will. I just hope they don’t treat him too much like a kid.” 

Eddie puts a plate in front of you and takes a seat. “He is still young,” he says before he takes a bite of his sandwich. “Buy that will probably make him more relatable to the kids, ya know?”

You nod, taking a bite of your own food. The nausea has started to subside now that you were in your second trimester, which made it easier to eat foods that you weren’t necessarily craving. Still, you took your time eating so not to trigger anything. 

“Are you excited for tonight?” Eddie asks, taking a chip from your plate and popping it in his mouth. 

“Yes, I can’t wait to see their faces.”

Eddie and you finally decided to start telling more people about your pregnancy now that you were in the second trimester. Chrissy had been begging you for a double date for weeks now and you’d been putting her off so that you wouldn’t spill the beans too soon. So tonight was going to be the big reveal. 

Chrissy had become a really good friend ever since she sold you the house. She was a busy mom and successful realtor but she always made time to call and check in on you. It honestly was hard not to tell her when you’ve told your other friends, but you wanted to be sure you’d make it to the second trimester before telling too many people per the doctor's suggestion. 

So when you and Eddie arrived at the Golden Lamb, you could already feel the butterflies in your stomach. Thankfully you were too soon to be showing so they wouldn't know right away. 

“I honestly thought it would be hard with a fifth, but Chrissy has been nothing but a superstar about it all,” Jason says as you all share an appetizer. You were barely talking because the food was so good you just kept eating it. 

“Awe, so have you!” Chrissy says, beaming at the praise. “Jason’s been doing great making sure the boys are on their best behavior while I’ve been recovering.”

“How is that? The recovery, that is.”

You look up at Eddie when he asks the question. 

“It’s hard, I’m not going to lie. But when you’ve done it before it definitely helps to know what to expect. You guys will know one day.” Chrissy winks at you. 

“Yeah, about that..”

“You’re pregnant.”

You freeze at her words. Chrissy brings her hands to her mouth and gasps.

“H-how did you know?” You ask bewildered. 

“I knew it! I could just tell when I saw you!” 

“Woah, congratulations, man!” Jason reaches his hand across the table for Eddie to shake, which he does. 

“Oh I can’t wait! Our kids are going to be best little friends!”

That made you happy to hear. Chrissy’s youngest and even Nancy’s youngest baby weren’t going to be too much older than yours. He or she already has friends waiting for them, and that made you feel a sense of joy in your heart.

“Do you know the gender yet?” Jason asks. 

“We find out in a couple weeks,” Eddie says proudly. 

“Are you hoping for anything or just feeling blessed regardless?”

Truth is you’d gone back and forth or whether or not you wanted a boy or girl. You’d be happy with either, but the idea of a little girl to dress up would be fun. You know Eddie wants a boy, but has also expressed that he’s just happy to have a baby with you. 

“I’m just happy to be this far,” you finally say. “Although I think a girl would be fun.” You add that last part in without looking at Eddie. 

“Oh a little girl!” Chrissy squeals. “I always wanted a daughter but I’m happy with my little team of boys. But if you have a girl I will be living vicariously through you.” 

“Hey, we can always try again.” Jason says, giving Chrissy a little nudge. She rolls her eyes at him. You know she would be happy to have more kids, though. 

“I personally want a boy,” Eddie announces, looking at you. 

“Oh, man, boys are so fun. Our house is like a madhouse, but it’s totally worth it.”

“Which reminds me,” Chrissy chimes in, “Jacob wants to learn guitar. I was wondering if we paid you if you wouldn’t mind giving him lessons?”

Eddie is taken aback at this request. A Carver kid wants to play guitar? 

“Y-yeah, sure. That’s your second oldest, right?” 

You were pleasantly surprised that Eddie remembered, even after all the times you’ve drilled the names and ages of their kids into his head. 

“Yep! Little Jacob wants to be a rockstar someday,” Jason adds. 

“Hell yeah, that’s awesome,” Eddie says, nodding his head. “Just let me know when works for you guys.”

“We were thinking about dropping him off after church on Sundays? Maybe he can spend an hour or so with you?”

“That would be perfect,” you say, nodding to Eddie. 

“Obviously not when you have the baby, we can wait until after that if you want. “

“No, it should be fine,” you say, “Bring him over whenever. It will probably be easier to start now before the baby anyway.”

“Thanks, man, I really appreciate it,” Jason nods to Eddie. “By the way, have you ever heard of a band called Stryper?”

“Eddie! Quick!”

Eddie looks over at you as you come darting to him. He watches as you take his free hand and spin him around, toothbrush still in his mouth as he was getting ready for work.

“Wha es et?” He asks through a mouth full of toothpaste.

Wordlessly, you take his hand and place it on the side of your bump. The both of you are still as you wait for something to happen. After a few beats, you start to feel disappointed.

“I swear I felt them kicking,” you say dejectedly, letting go of Eddie’s hand.

“What, really?” He asks after spitting the toothpaste out of his mouth.

“Try again and maybe press down some?”

“Will that hurt it?”

“No, I don’t think so. Maybe agitate them a bit.”

Eddie puts his hand back on your barely there bump and presses down on it. It’s still for a few moments, and nothing happens. You let out a frustrated huff and cross your arms defeated. 

“I really did feel them.”

“I believe you, sweetheart. That’s so exciting,” Eddie says rubbing your arms with his thumbs,

Then you feel it again.

You gasp, grabbing his hand again and moving it to the spot where you felt the movement. Eddie’s hand rested there and you waited another moment. Nothing.

“Damn it--” 

Then it happened again. Eddie’s jaw dropped as he felt it that time, too stunned to speak.

“Wooooah,” he finally says, looking up at you.

“I know, right? Isn’t it crazy?”

Eddie puts both hands on your stomach and rubs it, kneeling down to be eye level with it.

“Hey there,” he says, eyes focused on your belly, “I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m your dad and I think it’s really cool that you have such strong legs. Maybe you’ll be a drummer like your Uncle Garreth. That would be super bad ass. Especially if you’re a girl. Girl drummers are awesome.” 

“What if they’re a boy?” You ask him. “Then you’ll be a kick ass boy drummer for all I care. I really want you to play guitar, though. Gonna teach you that as soon as you can hold your head up. Babe, should be make him a battle jacket?”

“If we make him one now he won’t fit in it for very long. We should probably wait until he’s older.”

“Damn, oh well.” Eddie sighs as he straightens up. His arms wrap around you and pull you in close, letting his chin rest on the top of your head.

“You have no fucking clue how excited I am.”

“I think I can take a guess.”

The room is quiet, dimly lit with the soft glow of the low lights and the monitor that sits next to your seat. Your feet wiggle back and forth, a nervous movement as you sit and wait for the ultrasound technician to enter the room. Eddie was sitting beside you, his own leg bouncing in anticipation.

Today you would find out the gender of your baby. The excitement was enough to keep the two of you up late into the night talking about what it will be like to have a baby boy or girl running around the house. All the baby proofing you would have to do was enough to make you feel like your house might actually be a deathtrap, even when Eddie assured you it wasn’t that bad.

A gentle knock on the door had both of your heads turning to it. “Come in,” you say, and the door opens moments later. The same technician from your last appointment walks in and you’re relieved to see a familiar face.

“Good morning,” she says as she closes the door behind her. “Are we ready to find out what you’re having?”

You and Eddie nod, a fresh batch of goosebumps rising on your skin. The technician moves around the room and does whatever she needs to do to get the monitor ready.

“Go ahead and lay back, and lift your shirt just over your belly,” she says as she pulls a bottle from the counter. As you lean back, she shakes it upside down a bit and squirts some on her finger, wiping it off on the paper towel sitting on the counter.

“Now, this may be  little cold at first, but it will warm up as I move the wand, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, a nervous smile on your face. 

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Eddie asks, grabbing your hand.

“No, not at all. I’m just going to put a little of this jelly on her stomach and press this wand to it so we can see the baby. You ready?”

You nod and the cold jell hits your stomach with a sound from the bottle.

“Now here comes the wand…” She places the ultrasound wand on your stomach with a light pressure. The screen of the ultrasound machine starts to blur as she moves the jelly around on your stomach. Once she slows down, you’re able to get a more clear picture of the baby growing inside your belly. 

It looked weird. Like a baby, but not at the same time. But when you saw it’s little arms moving it made a lump form in your throat.

“Awe, they’re waving at you,” the technician says, holding the wand still.

“Where?” Eddie asks, a clear look of confusion on his face. “I can’t read any of this.”

“See this right here, that’s the head,” the technician points to the large orb on the screen. “This is it’s spine, and this is it’s legs. Right here are it’s little arms.”

“Woah,” Eddie says with a smile as wide as Texas. “Hi little guy.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“What, I want to be polite!”

“Everything is looking good and they seem to be measuring on time, but I can’t say for certain until the doctor checks everything out. I’m going to take a few pictures and then we can check the gender, okay?”

You nod and let her do her thing. She moves the wand and pushes a few buttons on the keyboard, over and over, until she finally moves the wand to where it looks like the baby’s butt would be. A hot wave crashes over you as you realize that this is it.

“Okay, baby is not cross legged so I can see perfectly. Are you ready to know?”

Eddie turns to look at you for your approval. He nods, and you take a deep breath.

“Yes, we’re ready.”

“How was the appointment?” Wayne says as the two of you walk in the door, Bear relaxing over his feet.

“It went really well. We got some new pictures to show you.” Eddie walks over to Wayne and hands him the small print out of pictures the technician gave you to bring home. Wayne grabs his glasses and puts them on, still holding the small prints close to his face.

“Wow, this really looks like a baby now, huh?” He says, looking over to you. Your hand rubs your bump, now starting to show a bit. You’re happy it didn’t come in until after your school year ended, lest the students ask you a million questions.

“What else do you see?” Eddie asks the older man. Wayne looks over the pictures again, eyeing them up and down.

“What’s this last picture?”

“That is your grandson’s little Munson.”

Wayne looks up at Eddie, then over to you. As it all starts to make sense to him, he suddenly jumps up from his chair and jumps around.

“‘T’s a lil boy?! Hot dog, I got myself a new fishin’ buddy?!” His arms wrap around Eddie in a surprise hug as he jumps up and down more, rocking Eddie in the process.

“We had a feeling that you’d say that, so we went and got this.” You pull a bag from behind your back and present it to him, a very obvious smaller version of a fishing pole sticking out of it. It was made for kids, but you’re sure it would work when the baby is big enough. 

“I can’t believe this,” Wayne says wiping tears from his eyes. “I would have been this happy if it was a girl, too. But it just feels so--”

“Real?” Eddie says.

“Yeah. I just can’t--I mean, damn it’s really happening.”

“Eddie started crying when she told us,” you say as you lean into him.

“How could I not? I’m gonna have a mini me running around the house!”

“Don’t I know it. I’m putting all this work in for 9 months and I know he’s going to come out looking exactly like you.”

“Hopefully he’s more tame than Eddie was,” Wayne adds, shaking his head. “Eddie used’aa bounce off the walls when he was a toddler.”

“Oh, great, can’t wait for that,” you say with a smile. You truly didn’t care what the baby was going to be like. You hoped he was just like Eddie, in every way.

“Ugh, it’s so hot,” you say as you fan yourself. Even with the shade of your front porch you were still sweating in the unrelenting July heat. It was the hottest summer Hawkins had felt in a while and of course you just had to be almost 30 weeks pregnant right now.

“We can go inside,” Eddie says from the chair next to you, flipping through a mechanics magazine.

“No, the fresh air will be good for the baby.”

“Not if you’re frying in the process. Come on, we can wait for them inside.”

As if right on que, the familiar red beater truck pulled up behind yours in the driveway. 

“Hey, the party is here!” Grant shouted from the driver side window.

“Lets get this shit built!” Garreth yells as he pops out of the passenger side, Jeff following after him.

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna help?” Jeff says as Garreth and Grant start to unload the back of the truck of the boxes that were in the bed.

“I was expecting you all to do the heavy lifting. We are pregnant afterall.” Eddie says as he places his lemonade down, standing up from the chair. Jeff pshes him, slapping a hand on his back before the two of them start moving boxes inside.

The boys had all agreed to help put together furniture as long as they could drink and listen to rock music the whole time, neither of which you minded but you appreciated them asking. You’d been craving some wine during your pregnancy but had been good enough to not indulge yourself, especially after you’d done so well with your sobriety.

“You boys needa hand?” Wayne asks from the front door.

“Naw, we got it pepaw,” Garreth calls, holding the other and of a large box that him and Jeff are carefully maneuvering between the cars in the driveway. You held the door open for them as they entered into the house, stopping to kick their shoes off per your house rule of no shoes in the baby’s room.

Once the boys got everything inside, they immediately plugged in the stereo system and began to fill your house with Pearl Jam’s “Ten” album. Eddie Vedder’s vocals made good background noise as you cleaned up the house. Well to the best of your ability.

Your bump had grown big enough that it was starting to become more difficult to do certain things, like bending over and squatting. But you could still handle most of the chores with out much of Eddie’s help. It was working with chemical cleaners that worried you the most, so you looked into some more natural cleaning remedies and hoped that they were doing what they were supposed to do.

“Anyone ready for lunch? I’ll order some pizzas if you want--Wow, look at you guys go!”

The room was already starting to come together as the furniture was being built. It looked like Eddie and Jeff had the crib almost put together as Grant and Garreth tackled the dresser. You thought this was going to be an all day endeavor but they may get it all done in a few hours.

“You guys are some pretty good handymen!”

“Thanks, babe,” Eddie says as he holds a couple pieces together for Jeff to screw in. “Once we get these big pieces put together we’ll work on getting the shelves up. 

“Were you saying something about pizza?” Garreth asks with nails between his lips.

“Yeah, I’ll go ahead and order some. Any special requests?”

“Can you get some cheesy bread, too?” Grant asks.

“Absolutely. Well, I’ll leave you boys to it.”

“Love you, babe!”

You say a quick love you back before waddling down the hall to the kitchen.

After a quick pizza break and some trash TV with Wayne, the boys all erupted into hoots and hollers from the baby’s room.

“What’s all the commotion?” You ask walking into the room.

“I think we’re done!”

You look around the room and really take it in. It looks pretty much complete, sans some decorations and the things you plan to get from your baby shower. It hits you that you’re going to have a baby in this room with you in just a few short months.

“Awe, babe, don’t cry.” Eddie walks up to you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you back and forth.

“It just looks so nice. Thank you guys so much,” you say through sniffles.

“Of course, momma,” Jeff says, patting your shoulder.

“Anything for the newest member of Hellfire,” Grant adds.

“And the future frontman of Corroded Coffin 2.0,” Garreth says.

Eddie backs away from you and you take the opportunity to wipe away the tears from your eyes. It was so nice knowing that your baby was already so loved.

“Oh, yes! Just like that!” You moan out into your bedroom, your cries bouncing off of the walls and straight into Eddie’s ears.

He has you just how he likes you; on your back and with your legs spread wide for him. Either of your legs in his grasp to hold up so you don’t have to. Your pretty little head is resting on the pillow while he does all the work of making you squirm under him. Your hands hold your large stomach as his hips crash into yours with each thrust. 

He’s doing his damndest not to be rough, but he can’t help that you look so pretty when he fucks you hard. The way you talk so dirty when no one’s around gets him going in a way he can’t even describe other than feral. Each call of his name by you sounds like music to his ears that he wants to play on repeat.

“Fuck, baby, look so good like that,” Eddie groans, watching your swollen tits bounce. “My beautiful girl, all big and round for me.”

“Yes, just for you, Eddie,” you say, your hands flying to the pillow to grip it as he picks up his pace. Eddie takes your leg and rests it on his shoulder, guiding his free hand to your stomach to hold it in place while he fucks you into the mattress. Something about you being pregnant with his child was turning him on to no end. Just the thought of his baby being inside of you drove him crazy.

“Oh, shit I’m gonna--”

“Do it, baby. Cum for me.” Eddie brought his thumb to your sensitive clit and started rubbing sloppy circles in it. Everything with you was so much more sensitive since you’d gotten pregnant, and Eddie loved to take advantage of that whenever he could.

Eddie felt it in your body as you came, the way you clenched around him, legs shaking, eyes rolling into the back of your head. He wanted to take a picture to keep forever. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Eddie says suddenly, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached his peak. You watch as he comes undone inside of you, filling you up with his spend. 

“Oh my god,” Eddie stutters out, head thrown back as he recovers from his orgasm. “That was insane.”

“Come’er,” you reach your hands out for him. He obliges, sliding out of you slowly and plopping down next to you in the bed. He wraps you up in his arms and holds you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Are you okay?” He asks, hand landing on your stomach.

“Mhmm,” you hum, catching your breath.

“I still can’t believe it. That we’re going to be parents.”

You place your hand on top of Eddie’s and rub your thumb into the back of it. It’s quiet for a moment, but then the two of you feel the baby moving inside of you and laugh.

“Guess he didn’t like all that movement,” you say, watching the way your stomach is pressed from the baby inside you.

“Sorry, bub,” Eddie says with a laugh, “Can’t help that your mom is hot.”

“Hey, thank you for coming!” You wrap your arms around Claudia and Dustin as they exit your house from the back door. 

Today is the day of your baby shower and the backyard was already full of guests as they all pile in. Eddie was manning the grill, your brother and his wife talking him up as he cooked the dogs and burgers for everyone. Elanor and your nephews are running around with Bear while Nancy and Robin catch up. Steve and Mike were talking about cars the last you checked in on them. Max, Jane, Lucas and Will are helping set up some last minute decorations. And the band boys were chatting while they set the fire pit up for s’mores later.

“Thank you for inviting us. Here, I made these myself for the little one. There’s something in there for you, too.”

“Awe, thank you, Claudia. That’s so sweet.” 

“I’ll take that,” Wayne says as he takes the bag from Mrs. Henderson. 

“I helped pick out the colors, by the way,” Dustin says before he leaves to go join the boys at the fire pit.

“How are you feeling, dear?” Claudia asks.

“I feel surprisingly great. Other than my feet swelling in this heat, I don’t think I can complain. Well, besides the nightly gymnastics routine this one seems to want to do whenever I go to bed.”

Claudia laughs, “Yes, Dustin was the same way. It’s like they know when you’re trying to rest.”

“It really does!”

“Mrs. Henderson!” Steve calls out to her and Claudia excuses herself.

Wayne makes his way over to you. “Got an awfully full table of gifts over there,” he says.

“I know, I’m in shock. I knew people would get us stuff, but I didn’t think it would be so much. Hopefully we have room for everything.”

“We’ll make it fit, I promise ya that,” Wayne says with a chuckle. 

He looks at you for a moment before leaning in. 

“Can I tell ya a secret?”

You whip your head around, shocked to hear that Wayne wants to gossip with you.

“Uh, duh. Lay it on me.”

“Okay,” he starts, “See that girl your brother brought with him. I think you said that’s his wife’s sister?”

“Oh, Tenisha? Yeah she was one of my best friends growing up. She’s just really shy.”

“I can see that by the way she’s been keeping to herself. But, I’ve been watching everyone here, right? Well I think she’s been boring a hole into Harrington since he walked in the door.”

This revelation sparks your interest. Tenisha had a hard time branching out due to her introverted nature, so she didn’t have many boyfriends growing up. For a while you thought maybe she didn’t even like other people all that much.

But, this news was something you could work with.

“Good to know,” you say with coy smile, brain wracking with ways to introduce them.

The rest of the party showed up as time went on. Chrissy and Jason came with their kids, and you got to hold baby Jeremy while she talked your ear off. She even brought you a whole trunk load of old clothes from her boys that you’d be able to use for your baby.

Missy even showed up with her baby, little Henry junior. He looked a lot like Henry, so much that it was almost off putting to you, but you reminded yourself that this party was the celebrate your own baby with the man who loves you now.

“This is a really nice house,” Erica says to Eddie as you help pass out food and refreshments. 

“Thanks, man. We’ve really put our all in making it our home these last few months.”

“I’m willing to bet that the missus did most of the decorating,” Jason chimes in.

“Obviously,” you say with a sarcastic tone. “I think the place would be covered with band posters and guitars if Eddie was in charge.”

“Hey, a few decorative guitars wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Grants says in Eddie’s defence.

“Thank you, Grant.”

“It’s going to feel even more like a home once the baby comes,” your brother says. “Don’t you think, Nish?”

Tenisha looks up from her plate like a deer caught in headlights. You want to scold your brother for calling her out, but you know he’s doing it because you told him about her eyes for Steve.

“Y-yes,” she says, voice small, and you’re proud that she was even able to get that much out. She stands still for a moment before suddenly beelining it for you.

“Where’s your bathroom?” She whispers to you. Just as you look toward the house, you notice Steve is heading in that same direction.

“Hey, Steve!”

He stops and looks around to where he heard his name being called, landing on you.

“Can you show Tenisha where the bathroom is?”

Tenisha’s eyes go wide, but you ignore it when Steve agrees and beckons her over. You watch as she wordlessly makes her way over to him.

“Hi, I’m Steve. I don’t think we’ve met,” he says as he follows behind her into the house.

You look around for Wayne to see if he saw your quick move and you found him already looking your way, giving you a thumbs up.

The rest of the party went off without a hitch. Games were played, all the gifts were opened, and you even got to have some cake that Eddie had custom made for the occasion. And, much to your delight, Steve essentially stuck by Tenisha’s side the rest of the night, talking to her about god knows what. She seemed not to mind though, a smile on her face the whole time.

You felt like you were about to burst. People had been chatting you up for over an hour at this point and you were starting to have to go every 30 minutes or so it seemed. When you finally had the chance to excuse yourself, you all but sprinted to the rest room.

Once you relieved yourself, you went to wipe, but thought you felt a strange texture when you did. You decided to check the toilet paper, only to be met with the sight of bright red blood.

Your heart sank at the sight. Getting up you checked your underwear and found nothing there, so it hadn’t been bad enough to spread. But still, you were only 36 weeks at this point, still a whole month out from when the baby was supposed to come. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Eddie,” you say out of instinct. “Eddie!”

You run out to the backyard and find your husband talking with his uncle by the fire. He looks over at you and waves, unable to see you clearly from where you were at the back door.

“Eddie!” The urgency in your voice caught his attention and he immediately popped up from his chair and came trotting to you.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” 

“Eddie, I’m bleeding.”

“W-what? That’s not supposed to happen now is it?” 

You shook your head and Eddie immediately started to panic.

“Uncle Wayne!”

Wayne jumped up from his chair and ran over to where you two were standing.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“She’s bleeding.”

“Bleedin’! Well that doesn’t sound right. You oughta go to the emergency room. Now. I’ll get everyone going.”

You both nod and Eddie takes you by the hand, grabbing his keys off the counter as you enter the house. He barely lets you grab your purse before he’s pulling you into the car and peeling out of the driveway.

Once you get to the hospital, they take you back right away and get you hooked up to a monitor to listen to your baby’s heart beat. There was a sigh of relief when it was strong enough that it could be easily found by the nurse helping you. They ran some tests on you and did a quick check to see if you were dilated at all.

“Nothing yet,” the doctor says. “Not abnormal for you to not be dilated at this point. Have you had any contractions?”

“No, not yet. Should I be?” You ask with concern.

“Not necessarily. Sometimes women experience what feel like contractions at this point, but you’ll know the real thing when the time comes.”

“Why would she be bleeding right now if the baby wasn’t coming?” Eddie asks, hand clasped with yours.

“Well,” the doctor starts, “There are several possibilities, but it’s hard to say for sure. We’ll probably keep you here for monitoring for a few days just to make sure we don’t need to start the delivery process early.”

“Start it early? Will that hurt the baby?” You ask.

“Not at this point. We consider the baby developed enough at this point that delivery is a safe enough option for you. We would just give you a shot of steroids before hand to help with the development of the baby’s lungs before hand. But, for now, we think that you should get some rest.”

The doctor leaves the room and you and Eddie are left there to listen to the sound of your baby’s heart beating. Eddie’s grasp on your hand tightens, and for a moment you think that he might have started crying. You look up at him and are surprised to find that he’s actually laughing.

“Why are you laughing right now?”

“Because,” he raises his head to look at you, “Only my kid would try and pull something like this the day of his party. I always used to ruin my birthday parties because I would get so excited to get gifts.”

That did make you laugh. Which apparently made your son mad because you felt him kicking you, leaving you to sigh in relief. At least he wasn’t in any immediate danger. Though, you were not looking forward to staying in the hospital for a couple days.

“Do you think I’ll be out in time for Monday?”

Eddie looks at you in disbelief. “I don’t think your students are going to mind a substitute for a couple days while you’re in here.”

“I know, I just don’t want to leave them with a bunch of work to do. I’ve been slacking a bit these last couple weeks.”

“I’ll grade the damn papers myself if it means you’ll relax for a couple days,”

“Oh, god, we wouldn’t want that,” you laugh.

You got to go home on Tuesday. It felt cooler out compared to Saturday, so Eddie brought you a sweater to the hospital to keep you warm. The fabric was tight over your large stomach as you walked out into the late September air.

The bleeding eventually stopped on its own and the doctors decided it would be best to let you go home and finish out the rest of your pregnancy. Which you were relieved to hear because that bed was super uncomfortable.

“I just want to go home and take a nice long shower,” you say from the passenger seat. “Then maybe a good nap.”

“Whatever you need, princess. I know that was rough on you,” Eddie says with a hand in yours as he drives.

“It was rough on you, too. I know you were mad they wouldn’t let you stay.”

“They better let me stay when the baby is born. I’ll stand outside the hospital all night if they don’t.”

“They will, Eddie. We already asked, remember?”

“I know. But what if they find out I’m a felon and change their minds?” You can hear the concern in his voice.

“Eddie, they don’t care. Just don’t do anything stupid and there won’t be a problem.”

Eddie scoffs, “You think I would do something stupid?”

“Of course not,” you laugh, “I’m just saying is all.”

Eddie turns into the drive way and cuts the engine. He hops out from the driver side and runs around the car to open your door for you, lending you a hand to help you out of the car.

The two of you enter the house and you immediately head to your baby’s room. It’s filled to the brim with all the gifts you received still needing to be put away from your shower. The need to nest kicks in and you enter the room.

“Woah, what are you doing?” Eddie says, watching you as you start to fold some of the baby clothes.

“It’s a mess in here,” you say, placing a blue nighty into the dresser drawer. “We need to clean up.”

“We can do that later.” Eddie wraps his arms around you from behind and you let out a whine.

“But what if the baby comes tomorrow? He’s going to think we’re slobs!”

Eddie turns you around to face him, holding you with a hand on each arm.

“Later, sweetheart. Let’s get you in the shower and down for a nap first.”

You let out a sigh but ultimately give in.

“Aren’t you due today?” Will suddenly says between bites of his salad. The two of you had a shared lunch and had been spending it together since the beginning of the school year.

“Technically I was due Tuesday,” you say after a long chug of water, “But he doesn’t seem to be ready to come out yet.”

“Have you been feeling anything yet? Like the labor pains?” He asks.

“I’ve had a few contractions but nothing too major. The doctor said it’s normal for babies not to come on their due dates, but I’m ready for him to be out of me now.”

You rub your huge bump. It didn’t seem possible that you were this pregnant. You hadn’t seen your feet properly in weeks, but you certainly can feel them aching. The back pain was out of this world, and all you wanted to do was sit down. But at this paint sitting didn’t seem to be much relief either.

“I’m sure you are. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like.”

“It feels like I’m carrying a 30 pound boulder in my stomach is what it feels like,” you laugh. 

But the laugh is cut short by a sharp pain in your lower stomach. Another contraction was hitting you today and this one took your breath away. You hiss, bending slightly as you try your best to work through it. But this one was lasting a lot longer than the others.

Will jumps up from his seat. “Are you okay?” He asks as he hovers over you, hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just,” you blow out air from your mouth, “This one just really hurts.”

“Shit, is it time?”

“I…I don’t know.”

You couldn’t say no for sure with how this one was feeling. Was it time?

“Do you want me to call Eddie?” Will says before walking over to the phone.

“No, no it’s starting to stop now,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “I’ll keep an eye on the time and if it gets worse then I’ll call him.”

“Maybe you should go home, just in case,” Will says with concern.

“I think I’ll be okay.”

But you were not okay. After the third contraction, you decided to call Principal Higgins and let him know what was going on. He told you he would take over your class and that you should go home for the day.

“Hawkin’s Auto Body, this is Sarah speaking.”

“Hi Sarah, is Eddie available?”

“Oh, hey! Yeah, let me go get him!” The receptionist put you on hold and you felt another contraction hit. They were starting to become close together, around 8 minutes apart.

“Babe?” You hear from the other side of the line.

“Eddie, I think it’s time,” you say through gritted teeth.

“What? Really? Where are you?” His tone is frantic and you hear some crashing noises.

“I’m at work. I’m having contractions.” You whine as the feeling grows stronger in your pelvis.

“Oh my god, okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. We’ll take your car, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting.”

After you hung up with Eddie, you braced the cold October air and made your way to your car. You turned it on and sat in the passenger seat while you waited.

Looking in the rear view mirror, you can see the car seat installed in the back seat for this exact occasion. Eddie was smart to put it back there in case the baby came earlier. Ever since your hospital trip, he’d been on top of everything when it came to the baby’s arrival. He helped you decorate, took you shopping for any last minute items you needed, and even prepared a hospital bag for you that sat in your trunk.

It didn’t take long for Eddie you whip into the school parking lot. He found your car and made quick effort to find the nearest spot to park. After he killed the engine, he booked it to your car and hopped in the driver seat.

“Are you okay?” Was the first thing he asked before buckling his seatbelt.

“At the moment, yeah. But the contractions are getting closer and closer together as time goes by. I’m due for another any minute.”

“Well, lets’s get going then, momma,” he says, shifting into gear and pulling away.

Eddie got you to the hospital in record time. They wheeled you in, mid contraction as they took you immediately to a laboring room. Everything was a blur as they got you in a gown and prepped you to be checked. When the doctor came in, the first thing he did was check to see how dilated you were.

“You’re already at 4 centimeters,” he said as he pulled his hand away. “I’m surprised you hadn’t come in sooner.”

“She was being stubborn,” Eddie said. He was upset that you had gone on having contractions for so long without calling him sooner.

“I was at work. I didn’t know it was going to get this bad--ooooh!” Another contraction.

“Well good news is that once you get to 5 centimeters things tend to go faster, so you shouldn’t be in labor for too much longer. Did you want to get an epidural?”

“God, anything to help with these pains,” you moan as the contraction wracks through your body. It felt like all your muscles from the waist down were tightening all at once. You were starting to sweat from the pain.

“That looks like fun,” Eddie says as he sips from his little cup of water.

You were bouncing on the exercise ball that the hospital provided for you to try and speed up the labor. The epidural kicked in and though your legs felt funny, the pain had subsided greatly. You still felt the contractions but they weren’t nearly as debilitating as they had been all day.

“It feels like a work out, but I think it’s helping.”

“I’m so excited,” Eddie says before walking over to you, both his hands out for you to take. You place your hands in his and do your best to stand, stepping closer to him until your belly touched his. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I am, too. Insanely nervous, but excited.”

Suddenly you felt a sharp pain between your legs. The sound of water hitting the floor took you by surprise. You felt like you needed to sit down so you reached back for the bed and sat on the edge. 

“Shit, babe, I think your water broke!” Eddie ran to the door and yelled out for a nurse to come to your room. 

Shit, was this really happening?

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. The nurses and doctor entered the room and it was clear that it was go time. They got you in position on the bed and you could feel something happening between your legs. 

“I see the head!” One of the nurses shouted. 

“Push, momma push!”

“Oh my god.”

Eddie was shaking beside you. You could feel the trembling in his hand as he held yours. But you didn’t have time to focus on him as you put all your effort into pushing. 

You squeezed his hand tight as you did your best to push, feeling the pressure building as you do. 

“Yes, keep going! He’s starting to come out!”

“You got this, sweetheart,” you hear Eddie say shakily. 

“One more good push!”

You put all your strength into pushing. It was the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. There was so much pressure building up and then—

The sound of cries. 

You opened your eyes and he was there. The nurses held him as the little baby covered in goo and fluids…was crying. 

“It’s a healthy baby boy!”

“Hellooo!” 

The sound of Wayne’s voice echoed in the room. He took a step in and Eddie waved him inside. 

“Come on in, Grandpa,” Eddie says from his seat next to you. Wayne mozies into the room, a vase full of flowers in hand. 

“I brought these for the lovely new momma,” he says, setting them down on your bedside table. 

“Thank you, Uncle Wayne,” you say, admiring the flowers. 

“Is that my little man over there?” He asks, moving closer to the bed.

You take the bundle in your arms and turn him to face Wayne. “Oh my god,” Wayne’s hand comes to his mouth as he cracks the widest smile.

“Do you want to hold him?” You ask, lifting your son a bit towards him.

“Can I?” Wayne asks, stretching his arms out. You make the slow exchange and Wayne just absolutely lights up. “Wow, I can’t believe it.”

“I know, it’s crazy isn’t it?” Eddie says, standing up to walk over to them.

“I’m sorry ta break it to ya, sweet girl, but this boy is all his daddy,” Wayne says with a chuckle.

“Wait until you see his hair,” Eddie says, gently pulling the little cap off of his sons head to reveal small poodle like curls underneath.

“Oh boy, we’re really gonna be in for it with you, ain’t we?” Wayne asks your son. “Your daddy’s gonna get all the karma from how he was as a kid.”

“All I know is he’s going to get away with murder when it comes to her.” Eddie says nodding to you.

“Is that so? That in love already, huh?”

You nod your head. It was true. As soon as the nurses laid him against your chest you felt that immediately wave of love come over you for your little one. He might as well have hung the moon and stars because he was perfect in your eyes. You weren’t even mad he looked exactly like Eddie. Quite the opposite. Your head swirled with all the trouble that the two of them were going to get to. And they would get away with it by batting their big brown eyes at you.

“Did ya come up with a name for him yet?”

This question made you look to Eddie. You’d been telling everyone that you weren’t sure what name you were going to come up with, but the truth was that you had a name for the baby all along.

“As a matter of fact, we did,” Eddie says walking over to the bed side bassinet. He pushed it over to Wayne, turning it so that the name card was visible to him.

Wayne stepped closer, leaning in to see the name without his glasses.

“Wayne…Wayne Lee Munson. Well…that,” Wayne’s body shook with a sob, “that’s my name.”

“And we thought it would be the perfect name for the next Munson.”

“Ed…” Wayne started to cry. He held your son close and wept. “Little Wayne Munson. Has a nice ring to it.”

“Well look at that little man there. He looks jus like you, don’t he?” Al Munson’s voice rang through the other side of the phone’s receiver. It wasn’t how you wanted to meet your future father in law, but you knew this visit meant a lot to Eddie so you went along with it. 

He told you his dad wasn’t a violent man, but he sure looked like it. Eddie looked so much like him, down to the way they both hunched over a bit when they sit. It was almost scary to think about what Eddie could have become if he hadn’t gotten out of prison when he did.

“I’m glad you guys came out,” Al says, “Was worried I wouldn’t get to see ‘em til he’s ten.”

“We’re glad to be able to make it. I’m sure you’re excited to meet him.”

“And the misses, too. Eddie’s told me a lot about you in his letters.”

“Hopefully all good things,” you say into the receiver that’s between yours and Eddie’s head. Al laughs, and it sounds like a raspier version of Eddie’s.

“Oh, yeah. You’re gonna make a great Munson. Wish I could be there to see it.”

“I wish you could, too, dad.”

“We’ll make sure you get lots of pictures.”

“I’ll be lookin’ forward to it,” Al says, leaning into the glass. “Lemme get a better look at’em.”

Eddie moved the phone to his ear as you reposition, standing slightly so you can show off your baby. You watch as his lips move but can’t hear what he’s saying.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone says. I feel bad for her because you know how I was as a kid…Yep, Wayne said the same thing.”

Al’s hand touches the glass near where you’re son is. It makes you feel for him. A man stuck in a cage, just outside of reach of what he wants.

“Okay, old on,” Eddie says holding the phone out to you. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Oh, really? Okay.” You swap with Eddie, handing Wayne to him and taking the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, darlin’,” Wayne says. “Just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

You felt your stomach turn. Was he going to grill you on if you were good enough for his son?

“Now, I won’t say anything, and you can give me simple answers if you want. But I want you to answer truthfully.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, is my boy treating you right? He’s not been hittin’ on you or anything?”

The line of questioning took you by total surprise.

“Oh my god, no,” you say shaking your head. “Eddie is the sweetest man I’ve ever met in my life.”

Al smiles the same as Eddie.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now, he’s been pullin’ his weight around the house, too, right?”

“Absolutely,” you assure him.

“Good, good. Been helpin’ with the little one?”

“Yes, more than I ever could have asked for.”

Eddie was made for fatherhood. Even at his most tired, he still does whatever he can with Wayne. Changes him, helps bathe him, cleans up so you can feed him. He cooks and cleans. Any little thing you ask he does without a single complaint.

“Wonderful. Eddie’s a tough one, so but I’m glad to see he has a soft side to ‘em. If he ever gets outta line, you just go ahead and give me a call, got it? I got some people on the outside who will set him straight for ya.”

“I don’t think I’ll need to, but I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle. 

“Alright, darlin’, go ahead and give me back to Ed.”

You hand the phone back over to Eddie and do another swap with Wayne.

“What the hell did you ask her, old man?”

Al laughs on the other side of the glass. You let the two of them talk it out for the rest of the visit. You weren’t sure the next time you three would be able to make it out to see him, so you made sure to say your goodbyes before leaving.

The house is warm and filled with the smell of food cooking from the kitchen. As you do your best to prep, Eddie is sitting snugly on the couch holding baby Wayne in his arms. They’re watching A Charlie Brown Christmas on the tv; well, Eddie is narrating everything for Wayne. But Wayne seems to love listening to Eddie talk, starting up at him with those big brown eyes that you love so much.

“Don’t look now, but I think we’re being watched,” Eddie says to Wayne, pointing at you.

“I can’t help it, you guys are just so cute.”

You’re about to check on the food again when you hear a knock at the door.

“Come in!” Eddie shouts from the couch.

The door opens and begins to fill with familiar faces. Dustin and Lucas enter first, bickering about god knows what, followed by Mike, Jane, Max and Will who look fed up at the former two. 

“Hey guys!” You say as you approach, offering to take coats as they come in. Eddie stands up from the couch and walks over to Dustin and Lucas.

“Whatever you guys are going on about can end now,” Eddie says as he hands the baby to Lucas, “and you can hold this one while I go take a piss.”

“I’ll take that, thank you,” Max says as she slips between Dustin and Lucas, taking your son in her arms and walking away. “Awe aren’t you just the cutest!”

“Hey, he was handing him to me,” Lucas says with a scoff.

“You’ll have your turn later, Auntie Max needs her baby time now.”

Lucas pauses for a moment before leaning into Dustin.

“She looks pretty cute with a baby, doesn’t she?” 

Dustin elbows Lucas, “Make your own then, sheesh.”

“Can I see him?” Jane says as she walks up to Max, who shows him off to her.

“He seriously is so cute.” Max says, lightly bouncing Wayne in her arms.

“Thanks, I think so, too,” you chuckle.

Another knock at the door takes your attention away from the girls for a moment. You shout for them to come in and the door opens to reveal Steve and Robin with two handfuls of gifts.

“Oh my god, let me take those,” you say rushing over to them. “What is all this stuff?”

“It’s for the baby, duh,” Robin says, handing you some of the stuff from her hands.

“All of this is for Wayne?”

“Not all of it,” Steve says, making his way to your tree to set his gifts down. “There’s more in the car.”

“You guys are ridiculous,” you say, shaking your head.

“Woah, Santa came early,” Eddie says as he rounds the corner. He walks over to Robin to take the rest of the gifts and joins Steve by the tree.

“We said we were going to spoil him,” Robin says with a shrug.

Suddenly something small runs into the house, past you and onto Mike’s leg.

“Woah!” 

“Uncwel Mikey!” Elanor squeals.

“Is this where the party is?” Jonathan says as he enters the house, followed by Nancy and baby Amelia.

“It smells so good in here,” Nancy says as she gives you a side hug.

“Thank you! You guys didn’t have to bring anything,” you say, eyeing the tin of cookies that Jonathan was holding.

“It was nothing. I was in a baking mood, so those aren’t the actual cookies that are in there.”

“Well come on in and set them in the kitchen. I need to check on everything anyway.” 

Nancy and the baby follow you inside to the kitchen, Jonathan hot on her heels. “I’ll be back for you,” she says when she passes Max holding baby Wayne.

As you enter the kitchen, the timer for the turkey goes off. You grab your oven mitts and pull it out of the oven, prepping the thermometer to check that it’s cooked all the way.

“Wow, you made a whole turkey?” Nancy says impressed.

“I wanted there to be enough for everyone” you say, reading the temperature, “and it was cheaper than a ham. Got it on sale actually!”

“Looks good!” Jonathan says, setting the cookies on the table.

“Holy shit, Steve she made a turkey!” Robin yells from the kitchen doorway.

“I thought she didn’t know how to cook?!” Steve shouts from the living room.

“I’ve picked up a few things being a housewife, Steve!” You shout back at him.

“Hows motherhood treating you?” Nancy asks, moving to stand next to you.

“Honestly,” you start, “it’s been a crazy ride.” You pause for a moment, thinking about all the sleepless nights and endless feedings. But you think about your sweet baby and the man who has been helping you make it all possible and sigh. “But, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“I know what you mean,” she says bouncing Amelia on her hip. “It’ll get harder when you have another, but it really is worth it.”

Another? You hadn’t really thought about having another baby just yet. You were still in the throws of first time motherhood that you barely had time to think about anything else. But, who knows, maybe you’ll have another. One day at a time.

You hear a commotion from the living room and assume the rest of the boys have arrived when you hear their collective voices.

“There’s my man,” you hear Jeff say.

“God, he looks just like you, Eddie,” Grant says, making you smile.

“Yeah, I apologize to her for it every day,” Eddie says with a laugh.

Nancy and Robin help you finish everything up in the kitchen while the rest of the party is entertained by your son in the living room. They all take their turns holding him until he ultimately started crying and needed his momma.

“Alright, dinner is ready, everyone,” you say from the doorway. Walking over to Steve, who was currently holding Wayne, you extend your hands to take the crying baby.

“Shh, it’s alright, mommy is here,” he says, gently bouncing Wayne in his arms.

“Damn, you’re a natural, Steve,” you say as you take Wayne from him.

“You think so,” he says standing up from the couch. “I’ve always wanted a big family.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” you say with a sly smile, “How are things going with Tenisha?”

“Great!” He says, clapping his hands together excitedly. “The long distance sucks, but Robin and I are going to drive out to see her for new years.”

“That sounds like it’ll be a good time!” You say and he nods. Wayne lets out another cry and you’re reminded that it’s time to feed him. “Go and get some food, I gotta feed the little one.”

You walk back into the bedroom and let Wayne nurse for a bit, calming him down instantly. A few minutes go by and you hear a knock on the door.

“I’m not decent,” you shout to the door.

“It’s just me,” you hear Eddie say as the door begins to open, him shuffling inside with a plate in his hand. “I brought you something to snack on while you’re in here.” It was more than just a snack. Eddie had made you a whole plate and brought it to you.

“Awe, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Actually, I did,” he says with a chuckle. “Or else there might not have been anything left for you by the time you were done.”

“So everyone likes the food?” You ask with a bit of hope in your voice. Eddie nods, and you sigh with relief. “Thank god.”

“It’s honestly really good,” Eddie says bringing a roll to your mouth. You take a bite and had to admit he was right.

“Eddie,” you say in a wobbly tone, feeling tears starting to well in your eyes.

“Yes, my love?” He says turning to look at you.

“Thank you so much,” you say with a sniffle.

“The roll was that good?” He asks with a laugh.

You shake your head, “No, no, I mean…Just thank you. For everything. I’ve never felt so complete in my whole life and it’s all thanks to you.”

Eddie goes to open his mouth to say something, but closes it. He suddenly sits up from the bed, walking over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulls out a piece of paper and looks it over before holding it to his chest.

Walking back, he plops back on the bed and clears his throat. “Um, this is something I’ve been working on for a while,” he says fidgeting with the paper. You look at it, then back to him. It was covered in his sloppy hand writing and you were instantly brought back to all the letters you’ve shared between the two of you. The ones that brought you together.

“It was originally going to be my wedding vows to you, but it’s gotten so long that I don’t think anyone is going to want to sit and listen to me while I talk on and on. So I just…I guess I’m ready to share it with you now.”

“Okay,” you say barely above a whisper, extremely intrigued as to what he has to say.

“Alright, here it goes,” Eddie says clearing his throat again.

“To my future wife,

It’s always going to be hard to put into words exactly how you make me feel. I could write poetry, could write you a song, could buy a plane and fly the words across the sky. But none of that will ever be enough. So I’ll do what I do best and write you this letter.

Not a day has gone by since we met that I don’t think about you. Even when I was still locked up, the thought of you played on my mind a lot. To me, I felt an instant connection with you. It might not have been love at first, but I knew that you were going to mean something to me. With every passing letter that turned into phone calls, that turned into us meeting for the first time, I only realized that you were put into my life for a reason. And that reason has become clearer with every day that I get to spend waking up next to you and being blessed by a God I don’t believe in with the grace of your smile.

Now that I have you in my life, I don’t think I can ever imagine a life without you in it. I want to spend every possible moment with you that I can, even the bad ones. I can’t wait until the day we’re old and grey and sitting in our rocking chairs on the front porch while we watch the sun go down. Because then I’ll know that I have lived a full, one by your side.

Now that we’re going to be parents, which I still can’t believe, I want to make sure that I’m there for you no matter what. We probably won’t get married until after the baby is born, but I hope you know that we don’t have to do things the traditional way. I’ve never been normal, but I think you know that by now. So lets just do things how we want to from here on out.”

“This last part I wrote recently,” he says, pointing at the paper, avoiding looking at you.

“Wow, I really can’t believe we’ve earned the title of mom and dad already. Nothing could have prepared me for first time parenthood, but I’m glad I have you by my side to go through it. You’ve been nothing short of amazing as a mom and I couldn’t be more proud of you. I think Wayne has been the missing puzzle piece that we didn’t even know we needed in our lives. He rounds out our family in such a positive way that I sometimes feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s how too good to be true my life with you feels. I don’t know what the future holds, but no matter what happens, I know that you and I will be able to work it together as a team. 

I guess I should wrap this up and give it to you before Wayne goes to college. Just know I love you so much and I always will. Never forget that, my love.”

Eddie turned to look at you, not even surprised to see the mess you’d become. Tears streaked your cheeks and you were holding in a sob that kept trying to escape.

“E-Eddie…” you say, leaning into him, finally letting it out with a little cry. “That was so sweet. I don’t even know what to say.”

Eddie kisses the crown of your head before resting his cheek against it.

“You don’t have to say anything. I already know how you feel. You make sure I know it every day. This is just my own way of saying thank you.”

You held your baby tight in your arms, suddenly overwhelmed at the life you’d been given. The man next to you loved you and you loved him. You were going to get married and spend the rest of your days together. As a family.

thank you all so much for reading!

[truths33k3r4]

(Warnings for this chapter are at the bottom of the page to keep from giving away spoilers.)

CHAPTER 8 - Deceptive Answers

Don cringed as he thoroughly sprayed down the empty trash bin, acting as if the fragrant, lavender scent would banish the acrid stench back to the pits of hades from whence it came. After the third round of air freshener, he slowly backed away from the bin with a cautious frown.

He proceeded to spray it down four more times.

Why did it have to be vomit…

As he walked to the kitchen sink he gently pulled off his latex gloves, neatly folding and placing them on the counter as he began to run the tap. After years of learning about germs and how to abolish them, he knew well that it didn’t matter if you washed them with hot or cold water. But even with this knowledge, it still brought him a slight ping of delusional comfort envisioning the hot temp burning the germs right off his hands.

That’s definitely normal.

He didn’t care all that much for the gooey sensation of the soap when it first puddles in his palms, but with a few quick scrubs, the sticky texture expanded into soft peaks of foam. The warm water mixed with the luscious suds did wonders for his dry hands. Thanks to the colder weather beginning to creep into the city, his home’s air had been stripped of its moisture. As a result, the skin of his hands and ankles cracked like the barren grounds of a scalding desert.

In other words ew.

With the last stage of washing his hands complete, drying them and folding the washcloth over the railing near the sink, Don began the trek back to his office. As he neared the doorway of the brothers’ bedroom, he paused.

Just move quickly. No big deal. Just ‘ninja’ your way around. Get to your office without attracting any unnecessary attention. Orrrr getting involved in any more emotional drama… Easy.

With a quick inhale, and his face tightened with concentration, he slowly took one silent step after the next, continuing his way down the hall past the bedroom. As he crept, little pieces of whispered conversation fluttered past his ears.

“...Lotus, what are you talking about?” 

Don instantly recognized the soothing tones of his oldest brother.

 “You are free. You made it out. We saved you. Shhhh, it’s alright.”

Don’s brows creased together as he paused to figure out what had happened to spark such concerned words from Leo. Going by what he said, the eldest wasn’t referring to Lotus being sick. The word “free” especially intrigued him. He continued to stand frozen as he leaned closer to the doorway, his curiosity now overriding the mission to get to his office.

“N-no… No, They…They’ll never go away…” A small voice cried in muffled whimpers.

Don’s mind began to process Lotus’ words one at a time; Every vowel and every fluctuation were filed into neat shelves in his brain.

Who’s “they”? Going by how we found her, she must be referring to the scientists at the lab, right? But what does that have to do with her being sick? Did those physician abominations give her something to make her ill? 

“Who, Lotus? Who won’t go away?” Leo gently whispered over Lotus’ smothered sniffles.

Don leaned closer. No verbal answer was given to Leo’s question, the silence only being filled by the frantic shuffles of sheets being pulled back and forth. 

“I.. I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it. I c-can’t.” Lotus pleaded as her voice continued to crack and splinter under the weight of whatever was haunting her mind. “I just c-can’t.”

Don’s posture physically slumped as he listened to the fear-stricken shivers of Lotus’ voice. The way her words jittered and broke in shards sounded all too familiar to him. She was so scared, but there wasn’t anything physically present that would make her react that way.

That left whatever was plaguing her to be something lurking deeper. Don couldn’t help the defensive snarl that escaped his teeth.

It has to be nightmares… That’s the most reasonable explanation for such behavior.

He knew that well, being reminded every night of the horrors he and his twin were forced through. Even though they were home. Even though they were safe. Even though it made no sense that the past has such power over the present.

And now he sees he’s not the only one.

How long was she there?...  How long did she live under the microscope of Specter’s prying eyes?

Don failed to suppress a shudder through his body as he was forcefully pushed into his own memories of the nightmare laboratory. His hands instinctively rose to cling to his shoulders, rubbing them down in an attempt at comfort. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, willing his mind to forget all those horrific memories that plagued him, but it was all for naught.

His twin’s screams echoed in a terrible chorus that consumed all his thoughts. 

A sickly, neon green glowed through the barrel of a syringe.

His chained wrists ached and burned from being yanked through long corridors.

His terrified face looked back at him through the reflective surface of dark-tinted lenses.

His body shook violently as an electrode was pressed into the left side of his head.

His vision erupted in white static when the nurse pressed the button.

NO! STOP IT- NOW!

IT’S OVER. STOP LETTING THIS GET TO YOU.

IT’S OVER.

Don gulped down the dread and anxiety clogging his throat, burying it deeper into the places of his heart he dared never to go. The chill of his memories forced another shudder to claw its way up his spine, leaving him gripping tightly to his arms and shaking his head. His legs shivered and buckled underneath him as if the weight of his memories added to his physical mass.

It’s over. That’s enough.

Don leaned and used the wall to stabilize himself, relying on the firm surface to steady his rampant thoughts as well as his shuddering body.

Just move. One foot in front of the other. 

With a withered sigh, he pushed off the wall and continued walking, blocking out the rest of the hushed conversations escaping the bedroom.

 I can’t deal with that right now. I just can’t.

Leo’s got it. He can handle it.

With his mind completely focused on simply reaching his office, he didn’t even attempt to sneak past the bedroom. It didn’t matter if they saw him, anyway. This was one of those pesky things that he just… couldn’t fix. 

So why try when it’s a waste of time? When there are others who are far more equipped for such a task?

Soon after, he finally reached his office, carefully closing the door behind him as he walked toward his desk. With a sigh, Don flopped onto his computer chair, causing a quiet squeak to fill the compact room. He leaned into the firm cushion of his chair as the whispered hum of the computer filled his ears. For a moment, just a small moment, Don took the second of mental silence to look around his room.

His gaze immediately rose to the high school certificate hung proudly on the wall closest to his desk. He remembered how excited he was to have such an accomplishment under his belt at the young age of sixteen, rubbing it in Raph’s face with a smug grin. His twin nearly shattered the frame before Leo and Splinter intervened. 

So much has changed.

As his eyes began to wander again, he suddenly caught sight of a small, blue sticky note left underneath the frame of his certificate. Don leaned and squinted his eyes as he read,“Please remember to drink! -Leo”. 

A cozy warmth filled Don looking at the note left there by his brother. It embraced his heart and settled his mind, leaving the faint feeling of a grin growing on his face. Don turned to his desk and took a good swig from the glass of water left there since that afternoon.

His eyes continued to wander, soon catching sight of his calendar and notes posted on the wall near his door. He again squinted his eyes, and even fixed and cleaned his glasses, but that all proved to be useless. He still couldn’t read very well, and it was beginning to drive him crazy.

With an annoyed growl, Don scooted and rolled his chair closer to the wall. He would have to figure out his sight problem some other time, no matter how many sparks of dread began to pop in his stomach at the thought of his vision once again failing him.

Shaking his head to repel any more worthless memories from entering, he once again gazed at the notes neatly stacked on the wall. Most of them were just phone numbers of the “co-workers” from his job. 

But then he finally saw his calendar. And the warmth that once thrived inside him vanished instantaneously. 

Leo’s words echoed back to him as he began looking over the wrong amount of days crossed out, reminding him just how much time he had lost.

“Eighteen days.”

For eighteen days he didn’t help his family.

For eighteen days he didn’t keep up with the repairs of his home.

For eighteen days he didn’t show up to work.

For eighteen days his family tirelessly searched for him.

For eighteen days you failed them. Weeks of worry, dread, and longing plagued your family all because of your absence. Did they even have fresh food this whole time? Did they have to resort to drastic measures? Did they have heat? Did any of them sleep? 

Don crushed his head under the clutches of his tightening fingers. 

How much pain did he inflict on his family all because of his carelessness?

Don hunched over in his chair, pulling his legs up to his plastron and pressed his head onto his knee caps. He squeezed tighter and tighter until it hurt.

How could I let this happen?

Why did You put me in this family if You knew I would FAIL THEM?

He pressed his head further into his knees. His arms clung tighter around his legs. His lungs begged for oxygen that he couldn’t supply. 

“Why?...” He whispered brokenly.

Just at the moment he felt his head would burst from the pent up energy and pressure, a soft *ding* sounded from his monitor. He couldn’t recall what he had been processing on his desktop, so he slowly lifted his head from his knees, gazing over to his computer as he dropped his feet back to the floor.

Then it clicked in his brain, and he shot his legs out to propel himself off the wall to his desk. After slamming his hands against the ridge to keep from crashing into the small table, he took a millisecond to gather his completely shattered mental state so he could focus on the task at hand. 

This was something he could fix.

His fingers comfortably found their rhythm clacking on the keyboard as he finally opened the files coded into Lotus’ implant. He was surprised to see so many, at least a hundred or so lined up in neat rows. Each one was labeled similarly, with the title “SUBJECT 19- PROCEDURE #”. 

As curious as he was to begin looking deeper into those files, one in particular caught his eye, labeled two simple words:

“SUBJECT INFO”

That should be promising.~

With his mind made up, Don swerved his mouse and clicked. The file opened to reveal many different types of documents: Blood types, heartbeat readings, and many more medical related data.

If Don weren’t so disgusted by what these felons had done, he would actually be quite impressed with how well organized all the information was. 

He pushed that feeling aside as he continued scrolling.

“MEDICAL HISTORY”...

“DIAGNOSES”...

“TREATMENT PLANS”...

Holy French Toast there’s SO MUCH… I’m gonna need weeks just to go through this all!

“MEDICATIONS”...

“TEST RESULTS”...

“PROGRESS NOTES”...

Down, down, he continued searching through them, just trying to find the end of the treasure trove of knowledge about his family’s new guest.

“IMAGING AND DIAGNOSTIC REPORTS”...

“IMMUNIZATION RECORDS”...

And then his cursor finally stopped. And at the very bottom of the list lied what he was searching for:

“VITAL RECORDS”

There you are.

Don clicked the file as he hunched closer to his monitor, the feelings of anticipation and dread filling him as he wondered what he was going to find. Lotus would finally get some semblance of answers about her past now. And from what he’d seen of the wounded girl, he knew she needed some good news.

The first document to pop up on his screen was a newspaper clipping.

What? 

The article showcased some kind of vehicle, flipped over and ablaze on the side of a dirt-paved road. All the dates on the paper were crossed out, as well as the last names of anyone involved. The cover read in bold letters,

“FAMILY OF FIVE KILLED IN UNFORTUNATE CRASH”

Don’s head cocked in utter confusion as he began reading through the article. He began clicking his tongue as all his concentration zeroed in on every word of the story before him. 

Somehow this connected to Lotus. And he was going to find out how.

The article stated that during a particularly rainy, spring night, a family of five, (husband, wife, and three children), slid off the road and flipped their car over. When help finally arrived, as well as the Press, the car was being swallowed by unrelenting flames. Only two bodies were retrieved, that of the husband and wife. Their names were Frederick and Jess, but their last name was crossed out. 

All that was left of their two toddlers and baby were scorched car seats. 

Don backed away from his monitor in horror, covering his eyes with his hand and sliding it down to his chin. The images of the husband and wife’s bodies hidden under sheets made his stomach tighten with sorrow. He squirmed in his seat, both guilty and grateful that he had never seen or heard anything about this tragedy.

All it took… was one thing to go wrong.

… And then… everything was gone. Everything. That poor family…

The rest of the article continued on to review the woe of their family’s relatives, as well as the following funeral that would occur at a later date. (A later date that was meticulously scratched out to be indecipherable.) 

Why is this in her records?...

After finishing reading through the article, he moved on to the next document in the file:

A birth certificate.

Don muttered an annoyed growl as he noticed that this document had been thoroughly crossed out too, with the only things left reading:

Alexis?... Is that Lotus’ birth name?... But… this is an official document by the State of New York- 

A human certificate.

Don’s brain whirled all this new information around his mind like an indecisive tornado. Nothing was making sense. No puzzle pieces were lining up. How could he be given so much information and none of it is useful?!? Here he thought those psychos with medical degrees were organized and thorough in their research- Here he thought he was finally given a buffet of answers ready to be feasted upon at a moment’s notice. How wrong he was to think this would be easy.

If he’s learned anything in his sixteen years of being a teenage mutant ninja turtle, it was the fact that easy never seemed to be an option.

His shoulders fell as he let out a sigh filled with disappointment. None of this would make Lotus feel better… If anything, it could make things worse. 

If these documents are true… 

Don pushed away from his desk, dropping his head onto the rim of his chair as the weight of the answers given to him pressed further into his mind. His chest ached and his head spun with the implications of the documents.

Was Lotus born as an actual human? 

Did she truly once have a family? 

And how did the newspaper article connect to this?

Was she in that crash? Did she escape the fire? 

Instead of clicking into place and revealing the steadfast truth, all that these answers had done was scatter the pieces of this mystery further apart, deepening the chasm that remained of Lotus’ past.

That's it for this chapter!! And now all of you get to really see the base mystery of my story. :) Hopefully these small pieces of the past will help you theorize what you think happened to Lotus and who you think she is. :) I was ECSTATIC to show you all this chapter. I'm honestly quite proud of how it came out, and I am so excited to delve deeper into the mystery of Lotus' past.

Feel free to reblog and share this!

BIG THANK YOU to @poetique823 for helping me and encouraging me through this chapter! Also apologies for uh... breaking you. XD

@writer-in-wonder, @allyheart707, @oddartistl3, @risebabyx2, @joyjoygorl, @carrots-bear, @howtotrainyourdragonprince, @jasminegazer, @indieyuugure

If you want to be tagged in the next chapter, please comment down below! :)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

(CW- Implied past deaths, trauma, mention of medical trauma!)

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

[magiccath]

Every Word

Tenth Doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which two idiots who believe their love is unrequited finally admit their feelings for each other

A/N: My old account got accidently deleted so I'm using it as an opportunity to rework some of my older fics.

Sometimes, you were so distracting to the Doctor. Often, you weren’t even trying to be. You just were. Your existence was enough to make him forget what he was doing. Like, right now. 

You were sitting in the TARDIS control room, a book in hand. You leaned casually back against the console, one foot crossed over the other. You bit your thumbnail anxiously as your eyes darted across the pages. Whatever the story was, it had you fully engaged. 

He loved how focused you were - like the book was the most interesting thing in the whole ship. Your head was bent over the pages, causing your hair to fall in your face slightly. He had to resist the urge to reach over and brush the strands away from your eyes. 

He was supposed to be fixing the console. Even if he wasn’t doing that, he should be doing things that weren’t staring at you. He couldn’t help but feel that it was wrong, looking at you like this. He shouldn’t be as enamored with you as he was. 

He ran his hands over his face, tugging slightly. He needed to snap out of it. You shifted slightly, the motion causing his eyes to wander back to you. It was so hard to look away. 

Sensing his eyes on you, you peeked out from behind your book. The Doctor turned a deep scarlet and whipped his head away from your direction, pretending to act busy. You chuckled lightly to yourself and returned to your book. 

The Doctor couldn’t help himself, his eyes drifted over to you again. And again. 

“Doctor?” You laughed when you caught him again. The man blushed and rubbed his neck anxiously. 

“Yes?” 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, setting the book down. The Doctor looked at you, confused. 

“You’re staring,” you elaborated, narrowing your eyes. 

He shook his head vigorously, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear.  

“Do I have something on my face?” you rushed out, raking your hands across your face. 

“No, no,” The Doctor blubbered, “you look beautiful. You always look beautiful.” 

He regretted it immediately. He really shouldn’t have said that. 

You raised your eyebrow inquisitively. The Doctor was prone to rambles and word vomit, but they usually didn’t involve him calling you beautiful. This was uncharted territory, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t interested.

“I mean, you’re just naturally a really gorgeous person. More stunning than any star I have ever seen. Very possibly the most beautiful creature to exist. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone or something that matched your beauty,” the words came out in rushed clumps and you had to bite back a laugh. He was tripping over his words in an attempt to save face, but really he was just digging himself into a deeper hole. 

He averted his gaze and tugged at his hair. You found that he usually did that when the cogs in his brain were racing to keep up with his babbling mouth. 

“What I’m trying to say is there's nothing wrong with your face,” He gasped desperately, putting an end to his ramblings. 

You giggled quietly, trying to hide your laughter with a hand over your mouth. The Doctor chattered on all the time, but it was extremely rare you got to see him this flabbergasted. If you didn’t know better, you would think that he might actually have feelings for you. Ones that weren’t of the friendship variety, that is. 

“Thank you,” You grinned. The Doctor could feel his hearts melting. The minute you flashed him that smile he knew he was a goner. He loved your smile and even more, he loved being the cause of your smile. 

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” you smirked before walking to the other side of the room, averting the Time Lord’s gaze.

You didn’t want to ever admit out loud that you found the Doctor attractive. It’s not that you were ashamed of it. Practically everyone fancied the Doctor, he was just that kind of bloke. Rather, you couldn’t imagine him viewing you as more than a companion. But the way that he had been rambling on only a few minutes ago suggested otherwise…

The two of you never really bantered like this. Is that what this was? Was the Doctor flirting with you? The mere thought of it left you shaky and breathless. It felt too good to be true. 

The Doctor was shocked by your compliment, the words leaving him motionless. His reaction left you scared that you had gone too far, so you busied yourself with the numerous buttons on the console in front of you. Idly, you traced your fingers across them. 

“Really?” The Doctor asked, wide-eyed. You smiled to yourself. He could be so daft sometimes.

“I suppose so,” you said, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. Your words made the Doctor light up, a wide grin quickly taking over his face. 

“I’m quite fond of you, y’know?” You blushed, turning your head back towards the console. 

“I’m quite fond of you as well,” He said, moving closer to you. 

“Insanley fond,” you added. “You might even be my favorite person,” you shook your head.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, taking your hand in his. 

“I am?” You asked, genuinely shocked. 

“Of course! Have you met yourself?” 

You threw your head back laughing, the action making the Doctor smile to himself. 

“I love you,” he smiled adoringly, his wide toothy grin igniting a warmth in your stomach. You blushed and looked away, his gaze feeling insanely heavy.

“I- I mean... Uh,” He stammered, suddenly embarrassed by his confession. 

“Me too,” you interrupted his bumbling thoughts, looking up at his tall form. The Doctor stopped his blubbering and looked down at you. He swallowed anxiously, the action making his Adam’s apple bob aggressively. His eyes darted across your face, settling on your lips multiple times. 

“As more than a friend,” he whispered. 

“As more than a friend,” you repeated with a smile.

The Doctor's eyes darted from your eyes to your lips and back, silently asking for permission. You nodded gently, the motion hardly noticeable. It was all the invitation he needed to grasp your face in his hands, delicately leaning in. He hovered for a few seconds, still giving you time to pull away. 

You sighed with frustration, grabbing his tie desperately and using it to pull his lips into yours. 

The Doctor was stunned at first but quickly relaxed into the kiss. His hands draped around your waist, gently pulling you closer to him. 

Your own hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling with the messy brown strands. You sighed deeply, the warm feeling in your stomach spreading across your body. 

The Doctor smiled against your lips, unable to contain his joy. 

After a moment, you pulled apart to gasp for air, your breaths coming out in quick pants. With red faces and lips plumped from the kiss, you smiled at each other before letting out a lighthearted laugh. His thumb trailed lightly across your bottom lip, the gesture gentle and loving. You ran your fingers along the seams of his suit, tracing the familiar lines. 

Still not getting enough of you, the Doctor plastered kisses across your face. He kissed your cheeks, forehead, chin, and collarbone lightly before landing on your lips again. This kiss was softer, more delicate. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. You let out a relaxed sigh and danced your fingers across the nape of his neck. 

“I meant every word,” He whispered, which made you laugh. 

“So did I,” you smiled up at him, before pulling him back in for another kiss.

[reverseblackholeofwords]

If you're wanting to get into writing or maybe you've been writing for some time but find that you're afraid of the blank page/blinking cursor, especially when getting started with an idea, allow me to introduce you to the idea of a writing sketchbook.

It is just a notebook and you are allowed to scribble whatever you want in it. It cannot, and this is essential, be a pretty notebook that you think is neat or an expensive one that you have to fill with Only Good Things. It has to be the crappiest notebook ever. For instance!

A notebook was donated to our library whereupon each page is printed with a Bible verse specifically altered to be addressed to a guy named Stan. You think I'm joking?

Yeah. Stan did not care about this gift, so neither do I. Now I fill it with whatever nonsense comes into my head. Notes from Wikipedia pages, song lyrics that match my characters, bulleted lists of potential plot points, rambling thoughts that go nowhere and don't actually end up in the book. Trash notebook, brain vomit notebook, it's all about getting it onto a page.

You gotta fill that notebook with whatever it takes to chip away at an idea until it works, and you cannot be constantly obsessing over writing Good Stuff in it. And it should go with you everywhere so you can always drag it out and scribble if an idea strikes. This is especially good if you have a busy brain that forgets things. Trust me: You Will Not Remember That Cool Detail Later! Write It Down!

Now remember Stan and go forth and plot your novel/fanfic/whatever idk 👍

[detransdamnation]

This month of October is my detransiversary… or at least, I think it is. I’m always all brain-fogged around this time of year. Still weird to think I’ve actually forgotten when, exactly, I threw in the towel. It’s always the things you say you’ll never forget that slip through your fingers so seamlessly, you don’t even notice. How fallible even the landmarks are.

Either way, it’s officially been three years since I last took my hormones. And just typing that out was enough to reduce me to tears.

Thoughts of what I could say on this have been swimming in my head for a while. I know how influencer-y that sounds. But writing into the void helps me cope—in case the chronic word vomit splattered all over my archive weren’t enough of a hint—and I feel frustrated because lately, every time I try to find a way to describe what it has been like to be me, even within the context of Word documents no one else will ever see, that normally-innate ability of mine to get it all out on a page just… eviscerates.

Up until now, at least. Kind of, sort of. I’m jumping at the opportunity because it took over a year to finally show itself.

Despite what my absence here—and this post—probably insinuates, I’ve been doing better than bad overall. But I’ve also been carrying this crushing weight that no matter how good I feel, it will never be good enough for me to not feel dysphoric, or sad, or filled with regrets—and somehow, this has only gotten harder, as opposed to easier, for me to reconcile as time goes on. I don’t think I was wrong to have been at least a little optimistic that maybe things would get better overtime. Guess I’ve learned yet another lesson.

Things haven’t gotten better. All the pain still remains. I do deal with that pain better—but I’m also not one to believe that being able to say “I’m used to it” is a sign of true genuine progress. If I think too hard about the state of things, I can feel the reopening of that wound in the pit of my stomach. It makes me nauseous and afraid. I will shake until I can barely feel my body and yet no other time will I be so painfully conscious of it. My dysphoria has evolved to mean more than merely just “wanting to be the opposite sex,” an evolution so major I almost question if “dysphoria” would be the correct term to describe what I feel sometimes. Regardless, it somehow feels even more sinister when I think too hard about it. There are the rare times I’m actually kind of okay sitting with the idea of just existing as I am… and then I re-remember how most of the physical effects of my hormones never really did subside, not to the extent most people would notice, and I start to long for what I had before the fix that fucked me up.

Except I didn’t “have” anything. I was a child when I started my transition. That childhood self is the only semblance of a “before” I will ever have. I will never know who or what I could have grown into without all this. Though a large part of me thinks it wouldn’t have mattered because detrans or not, I’m certainly something… and I’m not proud of it. No one would be. No one is. And I hate that I still crave that approval from others because it was part of what drove me to transition as that godforsaken teenager. In that respect, I don’t think I’ve grown at all. It makes me wonder how much I would put up with just to feel loved. I’ve already seen how far I will go. I didn’t re-make the mistake of viewing detransition as the antidote to all my troubles, but it’s times like these I wonder… maybe detransition itself is just another ugly representation of a cycle I have found sick comfort in, no hope of getting out. Maybe I will forever be chasing unattainable wishes all to spend years thereafter missing what never was, when I once spent years dedicated to ensuring what could have been would never ever become.

And I will feel disgusted with it. I might even look down upon others who go down the same path, when I’m in my worst of states. But the most I will ever do to “help” myself is pour my heart out onto a page—and I put “help” in quotations because sure, I’m getting all off my chest, but at the end of the day, I’m still sitting on my ass straining my neck to soak up the blue light. I’ve come to pride myself on my introspection, but rarely do I ever feel motivated enough to use that introspection as motivation to actually do something good. It seems all my major life changes present themselves in the form of “snaps,” some sort of external trigger leading to action that’s almost impulsive… and then I just get used to whatever sort of muck I land myself in until the next snap comes along and inspires me to pull myself out. And I will feel disgusted with how long it took me to finally value myself. I’ll pour my heart out and then shrug my shoulders. It’ll happen again. I know it.

But this won’t be news to anyone who’s been here for a while and that’s one of the main reasons why my page has been marred by distance. I feel like I’ve already, by and large, said everything I could say re: detransition, how it concerns me and my experience, specifically. It feels pointless to keep beating a dead horse, especially online. I used to humour how I’d keep on doing it, anyway… I don’t regret it—I needed that release—but the thought of continuing just feels different now. I guess if I had to analogize it, I’d use the acceptance phase of grief. It’s my reality, but I can’t change it any more than I already have—and there comes a point where talking is only dwelling…

…or inciting controversy, which I feel like I do just by existing. That’s a self-centered way to phrase it, and fairly, it stems from a perspective just as much—but it is what I feel and it is the prevailing reason why I have fallen into such a funk. I’ve almost come to consider the very word “detrans” to be an oxymoron I use only since there’s not really any other term that accurately encapsulates this experience. But that’s a long story. I share its conclusion only so that maybe someone else who feels the same way may come across this and know they aren’t alone in feeling it. That’s ultimately why I made this blog and keep on coming back: connection. And in the case there is nothing to connect over, understanding.

It felt so good to get into this flow state again. I hope they will soon be as fruitful as they used to be.

[shion-yu]

Day 6: Dizziness/Vertigo

Cliff and Elliot again, being angsty and mushy in love newlyweds. 1,769, CW mentioned vomit/clean up. It has a slightly abrupt end but I was like, I either end it here or write 5 more pages of dialogue, lol. @sicktember

Shortly after Cliff and Elliot finally had their wedding, Cliff began having terrible migraines. They had been a problem for a long time, but they increased dramatically in frequency that fall. They worried, of course, that Cliff was having a relapse of sarcoidosis or it was permanent damage from the coma, but his brain scans kept coming back negative. It could just be stress, the doctors said. Try to take it as easy as possible.

Cliff felt as if he'd been taking it easy forever, though. When he married Elliot, he’d wanted to contribute to their life together, and that meant working. Elliot made plenty for the both of them to live comfortably on, but that wasn't the point. The point was Cliff wanted to be useful in their partnership, and he hated feeling like he couldn’t be. He tried working part time as a receptionist at a hotel for a while, but they soon let him go after realizing how many sick days he needed to call out. Cliff didn't blame them, but it stung. It felt like another failure, like dropping out of law school.

Pushing himself was an equally terrible option though. The migraines not only left him feeling sick, but they sometimes triggered seizures too. The seizures were horrible, and Cliff was frankly terrified of them. They gave him a feeing of impending doom, and then he’d lose all control of his body. Afterwards he’d panic, disoriented and unable to form words as he desperately grasped at whomever was around him. His lungs would hurt from the way his body had forced all of his air out of them and the tiredness and pain in his entire being was overwhelming. 

He hated living like this. But what other choice did he have?

At least he had Elliot, but at the same time Cliff loathed to be entirely dependent on his husband. Elliot was preparing to go on tour in January, and Cliff didn't want to hold him back. He deserved to go out and be brilliant as he was meant to be. Elliot had already suggested Cliff live with Shu, or Elliot’s parents, while he was gone. Cliff brushed him off and told him he'd be fine, even though he silently worried he wouldn't be. What if he had a seizure and he couldn't get help, he worried? What if he was too sick to get himself out of bed? There were so many what ifs to obsess over when Cliff permitted himself to. 

Things changed so quickly there was no real way to prepare for them. That was the scary part. Like today, Cliff woke up with a horrible migraine. As usual he immediately feared it might trigger a seizure, but Elliot was doing a promo with Vogue today and there was no way Cliff could call and interrupt. He had the phone number of several back up people: the home health nurse was technically the best option, but Cliff always felt like a bother when he called. Ryo, Alex, Shu, Matt, Elliot’s parents, and even his own father were all people he could trust to get help too, but he wanted to bother them even less than the nurse.

So instead, Cliff simply hoped it would go away. He crushed up his migraine medication and pushed it through his tube, then hooked himself up to a continuous feed of water for the hydration. Rest was all he could do then and he lay in total darkness in bed, trying to sleep and swallowing down waves of nausea. The vertigo was especially bad this time, and Cliff felt as if the bed were a boat bobbing on an angry sea. 

Around lunch time Elliot called him. The sound of his phone ringing pierced Cliff’s brain like jagged daggers scraping themselves over flesh. He struggled to make it to the edge of the bed and threw up into the trash can, hoping blindly that his aim was decent enough not to leave sick all over the rug. His phone went to voicemail; Cliff hadn't managed to pick it up on time. He fumbled to call Elliot back, squinting at the phone screen which seemed painfully bright. He couldn't read any of the words right now, his vision blurry with tears, but he managed to find the button to return the call. The phone rang but there was no answer. Elliot must have gone back to work, Cliff thought. It was okay. Really, it was better this way because he knew Elliot would worry and race home if he knew Cliff was feeling so sick and Cliff didn’t think he would have been able to hide it in his voice. It was why he hadn’t tried harder to answer on time.

So he held on, fighting bursts of nausea as the world spun around him at breakneck speed. At some point Cliff had to pee and stumbled to the bathroom, gripping onto anything he could reach for dear life. He managed to relieve himself, eyes mostly closed, and was washing his hands when time seemed to stop. Confused, Cliff opened his eyes and looked down at his hands. The water running over his fingers wasn't moving, as if frozen. He blinked, and then time hurried to catch up to the present just like a VHS on fast forward. 

He didn't know how he ended up on the floor, it happened so quickly. Cliff stared at the ceiling, dazed, head throbbing. He'd never noticed how uneven it was, the outdated popcorn ceiling the landlord had put in. It hid the fact that it sloped downwards right where the door was. He closed his eyes. Elliot would be home soon - or at least eventually. Cliff didn't know when, but he didn't have the energy to get up. And so he lay there, half asleep and shivering, swallowing down mouthfuls of nausea, until he finally heard the front door open. 

“Cliff? I’m home.” 

It had to have been hours later, although maybe it was only minutes. He opened his mouth to call for help. “Elliot?” Instead of a cry, it came out a whisper. He could hear Elliot opening doors, looking for him. “I’m here,” he tried again, but the sound didn't leave the room. It felt like another hour before Elliot finally found him.

“Cliff!” Elliot was suddenly kneeling at his side, a look of panic and horror on his face. Cliff realized at some point he must have vomited again, as Elliot grabbed the hand towel off the rack and quickly wiped up a patch of sick on the floor so he didn't sit in it. “What happened, baby? I’m here,” Elliot was saying. He already had that desperate, teary eyed look that filled Cliff with guilt.

“I don't know,” Cliff said weakly. “I think I fainted.” He jammed his eyes shut again, this time because Elliot was quickly multiplying into two, then four, then eight copies of himself. 

“God, why didn't you call?” Elliot asked, his hands all over Cliff trying to assess the situation. “I should've known when you didn't text me back, I’m so stupid...”

“Don't say that. You're not stupid,” Cliff mumbled. “E? I’m so dizzy.” 

“I’m calling an ambulance.”

Cliff’s eyes flew open and he grabbed Elliot’s forearm to stop him. “Don’t. Please, don’t. I’m just dizzy. And probably dehydrated. Just help me get back in bed. Please?”

Elliot bit his lip, trying to judge whether Cliff was telling the truth. It wasn’t as if Cliff hadn’t fainted before. Throwing up wasn’t that irregular of an occurrence, either. But it was more about how he had found Cliff: in such a scary, startling position on the floor. The amount Cliff was speaking - and making sense - was the only thing reassuring him at the moment.

“E?”

“I’ll make up my mind in a few minutes. Let’s get you in bed,” Elliot sighed. They both knew then that unless Cliff suddenly passed out again that he had won - but getting back in bed without incident was a small test in itself. 

Cliff let Elliot basically lug him to his feet then half carry him back to the bedroom, where Cliff realized he, in fact, had not aimed perfectly earlier. “Sorry,” he said. “I had my eyes closed.”

Elliot shook his head and helped Cliff around the mess and onto the mattress. “It’s okay.” He eased Cliff onto the pillows and brushed his sweaty hair from his eyes. “You don’t have a fever.”

“I know. It’s just a migraine. A bad one,” Cliff said. Elliot went to the bathroom and came back with two more washcloths - one to start cleaning the floor with and one for Cliff’s face. “How was the interview?”

“What?” Elliot asked, concentrating on cleaning the floor now. 

“Vogue. How was it?”

Elliot paused, looked up from his position on the floor, and suddenly laughed. “I already forgot about it. It was great,” he said, shaking his head. “Baby, you really scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Elliot said. “Are you still dizzy?”

Cliff stopped himself from nodding, because it would make that dizziness worse. “Yes,” he said. “Very. I’m sorry you went from Vogue to vomit on the floor.”

“Thus is marriage,” Elliot shrugged. He finished cleaning up, washed his hands in the bathroom and then returned to Cliff’s side. He stripped his clothes off down to his underwear and crawled into bed next to Cliff, wrapping his body around Cliff’s and resting his head on Cliff’s shoulder. “I’ll call the doctor in the morning,” he said quietly. He reached for Cliff’s hand and intertwined their fingers, closing his eyes. “I’m tired, Cliff. I wish I didn’t have to leave you. I worried all day.”

Cliff squeezed Elliot’s hand, guilt and affection mixed into one complex emotion that choked him up. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t help it,” Elliot said.,

“I know. I’m still sorry,” Cliff said. Elliot nuzzled closer. Cliff rested his other hand in Elliot’s hair, rubbing and closing his eyes. “I love you. Thank you for caring.”

“Of course I care,” Elliot muttered. “But what will you do when I’m gone for months?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Cliff said. He managed to sound more confident than he felt. “Maybe I’ll be doing better by then. Become a roadie. I’m still your biggest fan, you know?”

Elliot huffed out a quiet, exhausted laugh. “Shut up.”

Cliff smiled and kissed the top of Elliot’s head, smelling his sweaty, coconut-scented shampoo curls. “I love you,” he said. “And we will figure it out.”

“I know,” Elliot said. “We always do.” 

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Best Place To Be

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Actor, Elvis Movie 2022

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Reader, Jerry Schilling, Dr 

Word Count: 2660  // Rating: Mature

Summary: Tours are well oiled machines but what happens when there’s a spanner in the works

Tags/ Warnings: Request, Requested Fic, Kisses, Established Relationship, 70s Elvis, Elvis on Tour, Tour Schedule, Ill Health, Abdominal Pain, Fever, Nausea, Vomiting, Hospitals, Planes, Fear, Arguing, Angst, Love

Notes: hope whoever requested this likes it. also if you ask me something the surgical nurse in me will always go to something surgical. I have no apologies. 

Elvis Tags:  @literally-just-elvis-fics @caitlin1996

Request from anon:  Could you do one where the reader isn't feeling well but doesn't tell Elvis and she faints?

‘Our only duties, as far as I could gather. Our only duties, our only-’ I mumbled, trying to get the words on the page in front of me to stick in my head though I wasn't having much luck. The book in front of me had been laying in my lap for the past twenty minutes but I had barely made it through two sentences as every time I did a familiar wave of pain flowed through my abdomen making the words melt from my brain. I was sitting in the dressing room, trying to ignore the hubbub that came with the preshow, and trying to distract myself from the pain I had been having on and off all day.

I didn't have time to be ill. Ten cities in ten days meant that for the foreseeable future, my life was a blur of cars, planes, hotel rooms and show venues and though I wasn't working I was still expected to be part of the team. To show up, grin and bear it until we were safely back in Memphis and I could have time to slow down. It wasn't that I didn't want to know what was wrong. I just didn't want to cause problems. When it came to Elvis the goal was clear. Keep him well, keep him working. With me? Who knows. I could be shipped off to a hospital in a state I didn't know or forced to go back to Memphis. I didn’t want that. Or worse. Elvis would insist the tour be rejigged, which meant I’d be receiving the Colonel’s wrath. No, I knew what I needed to do. Hang on and wait it out.

But it was hard, especially as another wave of pain flowed through me bringing with it a round of nausea that made me feel as though I was going to hurl even though I knew full well there was nothing left in me to throw up. I clutched my stomach and closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the ordeal going on inside me.

'You falling asleep on me?’ came a familiar velvety voice which made my eyes snap open. Elvis had come out of the bathroom and was giving himself a final once over before he had to head to the stage. As he fiddled with the cuffs on his suit he watched me in the mirror awaiting my response. ’M'tired,’ I said. It technically wasn't a lie. I was exhausted. Whilst he’d slept soundly on the plane I’d been tossing and turning, unable to get into any position that seemed comfortable. Throw in a day of driving, prepping and general busyness I wasn’t the most spritely. Elvis moved towards the couch I was sitting on and captured my chin with his fingers, tilting my face upwards as he leaned down and kissed me. 'Well don’t be calling it a night just yet,’ he smirked, pulling back, 'you know I love it when you’re watching.'

I nodded and smiled though I could feel uneasiness building inside me. That was the other problem. Though I wasn’t officially a member of the crew I did have a role. I was an unofficial mascot. Someone he needed to get him through the touring schedule. He liked having me by his side, watching every single show and being honest with him about it. I calmed his pre-show jitters and helped him ride his post-show highs but the thought of doing that tonight seemed like a mammoth one. I was comfortable sitting on this dingy little couch in the dressing room and I wasn’t sure how well I’d fare standing at the side of the stage amidst the heat and the noise. Elvis didn't notice my reluctance as he moved to check his hair out in the mirror, in fact, he didn’t have much chance to do anything as there was a knock at the door and Charlie appeared.

'Ready to go boss?’ he asked. Elvis turned and nodded, walking towards me and holding out a hand to help me up from the couch which I did so with as little wincing as possible. He didn't let go of my hand until we were out of the dressing room but before he did he brought it to his lips and kissed my knuckles gently. Then he was lost to the flurry of the crowd. I filtered back allowing his entourage to walk with him, firing questions at him as they walked in step. I could feel myself shrinking backwards, trying to ignore the dull ache in my stomach which twinged with every step. The coolness of the stadium’s corridors was a welcome relief to the warmth I was now feeling in my cheeks from exerting myself just a little but that quickly fizzled away as we walked out into the auditorium and I felt the Phoenix heat melded with the warmth from the stage lights and the thousands of bodies crammed inside waiting with eager excitement.

As the sound of CC Rider echoed out the crowd started to cheer and Elvis limbered up, taking to the stage to rapturous applause. I watched him go, feeling the same awe and pride I felt every night even though I had seen the show a thousand times before. Yet that feeling was only fleeting thought as my discomfort returned almost immediately. I moved myself to a secluded corner, resting against trunks that held equipment in order to keep myself upright. That wooziness from before was present again but I kept myself focused, watching Elvis as he moved around the stage entertaining his fans. I don’t know how long I managed to stand there, focused on the show before another wave of pain hit.

'Are you okay?’ Jerry said as he appeared at my side. As I turned my head to look at him my vision faltered, blurring his face in front of me before it focused back in sync. 'I’m fine,’ I said. 'You don’t look good,’ he said. I moved to wave him off but as I took my hand off the trunk I stumbled, not having realised how tightly I had been gripping it to keep myself upright. Jerry’s hand caught my elbow steadying me. 'Okay you need to sit down,’ he said. I could feel his grip tight against my elbow as he waved to one of the roadies for some help. ’M'fine,’ I said, though my voice sounded as if I was hearing it from underwater. My vision blurred again accompanied by ringing in my ears as I felt a searing pain ripple through my abdomen.

And then nothing.

As I came to I could feel myself being gently deposited down onto a soft surface and I cracked open my eyes to find Jerry watching me with concern as he placed me on the dressing room couch. He moved out of the way, though he perched on the arm beside me as Dr Nick appeared in his place.

'That was some drop,’ he said as he gestured for me to offer him my arm, which I did obediently. 'What happened?’ I asked. 'You went white as a sheet and then hit the deck. Scared the crap out of me,’ Jerry said with a frown. 'Sorry,’ I mumbled sheepishly. 'Your blood pressures down a bit,’ Dr Nick said as he took the cuff off my arm. 'I’m fine honestly,’ I said, attempting to sit up though it was done with a wince as I felt searing pain. Jerry and Dr Nick pushed me back down gently. 'Have you got pain?’ Dr Nick asked. 'A little,’ I said, though he looked at me skeptically, 'okay a lot.’ 'Since when?’ he asked. 'Last night,’ I said. 'Where?’ he said, his hand following mine as I placed it gently on my right side. 'Does that hurt?’ he asked, pressing sharply on my side, making tears sting my eyes. 'Yeah,’ I said, trying to breathe as steadily as I could. 'Any nausea or vomiting?’ he asked. 'A little of both,’ I said, 'but I haven't eaten anything today so the nausea isn’t that bad.’ 'That’s not exactly a plus,’ Jerry said. 'Any fevers?’ Dr Nick said. 'I don’t think so,’ I said watching his face closely as he frowned, 'why what is it?' 'I think-’

'Where is she?’ I heard Elvis’ voice say panicked. He burst in, followed by several guys offering protestations but he wasn’t listening to them. His face was frantic as he came in quickly kneeling by my side as he placed a hand tenderly on my cheek. 'Are you okay?’ he asked, worry in his big blue eyes. 'I’m fine,’ I said though he only took that in for a millisecond before he was looking for a second opinion. He glanced at Jerry who shrugged and then at Dr Nick, 'what’s the matter, Dr Nick?' 'Well it could be a couple of things,’ he said, 'I wouldn’t want to say for definite but she’s got pain and vomiting-’ 'They said you passed out,’ Elvis said quickly. 'It was nothing,’ I said as Dr Nick continued, betraying my denials as he said, 'she did but I think that was more due to her being weak from not eating today.’ 'You’ve not eaten anything today?’ Elvis said. I could see the cogs whirring in his mind as he tried to think about every moment we had spent together and whether or not he recalled what I had consumed. He’d been bleary-eyed this morning at breakfast drinking his coffee and reading his paper whilst I pushed pancakes around my plate. And lunch was on the go as always, easy to hide if needs be. 'Didn’t feel up to it,’ I said. He seemed to take my answer on board but there was something behind his eyes that I didn't like. Anger.

'So what doc?’ he said turning to look at the older man who shrugged. 'Like I said I wouldn’t want to say for sure without tests but that would mean going to the hospital,’ he said. 'Then that’s where we’re going,’ Elvis said matter of factly. 'But we’ve gotta leave and the tour-’ I started to protest. 'Will wait,’ he said looking pointedly at me before he stood up. I could feel the shift in his mode. He was the boss now, looking at the guys who were lingering by the door, 'get a car to take us to the hospital and call ahead. I want a room sorted for when we get there.’ 'What about Dallas?’ Vernon asked with concern. 'Keep it on the books for now. Have the plane on standby so it’s ready if we can make it,’ he said, 'and let the Colonel know.’ 'He’s not gonna be happy about it,’ Vernon said. 'I don’t give a rat’s ass what he’s happy about,’ Elvis said. Vernon nodded and scuttled out the door. A few of the boys lingered too making him glare at them, 'haven’t y'all got things to be doing?'

There was a murmur of agreement as he looked down at me that feeling of disappointment not waning though it softened a little as I felt a pain flow through me again and moved to clutch my stomach. He turned away, mumbling, 'Isn’t there something you can give her?'

'Yes, yes,’ Dr Nick said turning to his bag of tricks and rummaging around in it until he produced a vial of something and started drawing it up. I glanced at Jerry, the only one who hadn’t left and he smiled at me for a moment though it was pulled away from me as Elvis said, 'Jer.'

I watched Jerry jump up obediently and go to his boss. They talked in low whispers for a moment before Jerry clapped him on the back and headed out the door offering me one more smile as he did. As he left Elvis turned around and came and sat on the coffee table beside the couch watching as Dr Nick finished up what he was doing. The pain was eased now, whatever he had given me working instantly though it hadn’t done much for the nausea.

'I’ll ring ahead to the hospital,’ Dr Nick said, 'hopefully we can get some scans arranged for as soon as we get there.’ 'Thanks, Doc,’ Elvis said glancing towards the door. Dr Nick followed his gaze and then nodded subtly. 'Right, I er, I’ll leave you to it. Not too long though. The sooner we get her there the better,’ he said. 'Right, right,’ Elvis said. I watched him as he watched Dr Nick leave the room. Then his gaze fell on me. There was an ounce of compassion behind his gorgeous blue eyes but I could see the tension he was holding in his jaw and it was enough to make me feel like I was a naughty schoolgirl.

'E,’ I mumbled trying to get out words even though I didn’t have a plan for what I was going to say. 'Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked. 'What?’ I said feeling whatever I was going to say suddenly not compatible as a response. 'You didn’t tell me,’ he said, 'you’re in this much pain. Hardly eaten anything, heading for hospital and I’m the last to know.’ 'You had a show,’ I said. 'When did it start?’ he asked pointedly. 'E,’ I said guiltily. 'When did it start? Because I can bet it wasn’t when you were at the side of the stage,’ he said. I looked at him for a moment and then looked away feeling enormously guilty.

'Last night,’ I admitted. Elvis scoffed. 'So you did have time to tell me,’ he said shaking his head. 'When?’ I said, 'we had places to be. Venues, cars, hotels, planes. There was never a right time and I didn’t think it was that serious-’ 'But you didn’t know that!’ he said his voice louder than intended, 'you could’ve…I could've lost… you don’t know what it is. You can't take risks with your health baby.’ 'Elvis,’ I said sadly. I could see the anguish in his eyes as he said it, catching himself on the idea of losing me. He was always so protective over those that he loved, especially when it came to their health. Losing his mother so young made him careful. I had just been so focused on making sure I was doing the best thing for him I hadn’t thought about what he would actually want.

'Honey…you need me to tell about this stuff. No matter what,’ he said. 'What about your tour? I mean we’re going to be at least three hours behind and that’s if they can figure out what it is right away and the Colonel’s gonna hit the roof-’ 'I don’t care about that,’ Elvis said coming to kneel beside the couch and placing his hand on my cheek. 'But-’ 'I. Don’t. Care,’ he said watching me closely. I hesitated for a moment taking in his look of concern and allowing it to soothe me just a tad. 'Good,’ I giggled, making him watch me with amused concern until I explained, 'you can be my buffer from when he shows up shouting the odds.' 'You think I want to incur his wrath?’ he chuckled his anger and frustration disappearing, 'ain’t having no one in that room except medical professionals.’ 'Not even you?’ I asked quirking an eyebrow. 'I’m the exception,’ he said as he helped me sit up. There was a dull ache inside me now though it was nothing as it had been before. 'Maybe we can play doctors and nurses,’ I giggled as he pulled me up to standing where I clung to his side. 'That sounds like a plan,’ he said leaning down to place a kiss on the top of my head. I didn’t feel 100% right but beside him was the best place to be.

[according2thelore]

thank you so much for the tag in that post!!! i immediately forgot every fact about myself unfortunately BUT i have two follow up qs for y'all.........

MERLIN! i am also obsessed with merlin and btw if you have a merlin account you are OBLIGATED BY LAW to tell me. constitutional amendment from the obama era. i think the merlin <--> supernatural pathway is all about duty by the way. and also gay sex.

also charlotte consider this ask your one drink please 🍷 and DO TELL!

haha, that's so fair! we love follow-up qs!

lizzy:

uh-oh! by law you say?? i'm sweatin'...i also love merlin! so much! i cannot shut up about it, and i have written/continue to write for merlin under a different account...but i fear i might have to break the law on this one. and it's strictly for the reason that i have Very Normal friends not familiar with fandom that follow my writing/keep up with my other ao3 and if they find out i shake the boys from spn between my teeth like a dog, i would have some massive explaining to do. obama's gonna come break my door down 😔 i am kissing you passionately in apology! but i think folks like my merlin work pretty okay! my biggest merlin fic is around 100k hits, which blows my mind with violence each day lol

you get it!!! you get it so hard!!!!!! what drives me crazy about merlin and spn is the inevitability of it all. they are soulmates, and they are fated to be joined, but at what cost? literally what cost? they are opposed forces, hunter and hunted, but a bond of love and forgiveness and belonging that keep them tethered beyond separation. it's the continuous loss and torture and fear and not leaving! they don't want to leave! their lives would be easier if they didn't love each other, but they can't stop. and they HAVE SEX! one of the things that sticks in my brain so hard about merlin specifically is the lengths that merlin goes to protect/save uther for arthur's sake. like that level of devotion, even at the betrayal of self, is BARK INDUCING!!! i could write forever and ever amen about merlin, so if i don't stop now, this entire post will just be me yapping and yapping.

charlotte:

oh my god WELL a few moments stand out from that day. first, lizzy and I were THE ONLY ONES TO DRESS UP after lizzy explained that people dressed up at cons (this was my first con ever—baby’s first!). Also me when I lie lol there were a couple sexy castiels but I digress. (lizzy note: there was also a billie and death cosplayer that blew my fucking mind my beloved <3)

second, literally everyone at our con had already met the boys. like. a girl pulled out a BINDER with like 4 m&g photos per page and just kept flipping through it. so while we were nervous wrecks all day, everyone was mysteriously so…chill?? like we picked up food on the way there and barely ate any of it since we were making ourselves ill.

waiting in line?? girl embarrassing you wouldn’t have wanted to see us because we were HYPERVENTILATING. as soon as we cleared the doorway and saw jared, he made eye contact with us and kept glancing over the line to check when we were coming up (because of our slay niche fits) and as soon as we did, he said the episode BY NAME and told us we did a great job. (lizzy note: he was very excited and also his hand is as big is my waist i blacked out the whole thing if i didn’t have a pic i wouldn’t think it happened)

that man’s chest and arms. gigantic. bigger than my head. he was as solid as a piece of marble. we were like what the fuck. took our picture and NO JOKE we had to sit down on the floor in the hallway. we called lizzy’s mom. we bragged to the barista in the convention center, who was also very excited. we vomited and threw up because misha was next but in character and costume and let me just say

that man’s hands were FRIGID.

I’ll say it!! (looking at you lizzy who doesn’t remember it smh.) his m&g was slay ish because he was just smoldering and barely said anything (LMAO our man was tired and they were running 2 hrs behind). but! hilarious. I have both of the pictures hanging in identical frames next to each other in my first grown up apartment and it looks like the same photo at a first glance. it is the second most expensive thing on my wall (my diploma taking first 🤧).

and that…that was a glorious day. we’re trying to go again since jensen was sold out so we can complete the trifecta 🫶

-charlotte (& lizzy! hello! 2-for-1!)

[instructionsnotincluded]

how did you go about writing and uploading ur first fic? did it take a while until you first uploaded it? i’ve been trying to write something for a while now but i haven’t gotten very far (the ideas are all in my head just putting them on a page is seemingly impossible hahaha)

and also generally what’s your usual writing process? just word vomit and edit later or do you have more of a plan going in for what you want to happen this chapter?

I uploaded my first fic years ago to fanfiction.net and then never updated it again. Then after years went by, I uploaded another fic, posted about ten chapters, and then vanished. Then another fic with about five chapters, and never went back to posting my writing until I posted Snow On The Beach last year.

So, we can ignore all those other ones. Haha! For Snow On The Beach, I wrote for about three or four months before I posted. Mainly because I didn’t want to abandon yet another story. I told myself I was doing it for me, that if no one read it, great, I still had fun along the way and I was going to finish it.

I never planned much for all my previous stories. I wrote by the seat of my pants and I think that’s why they were never finished. I lost steam and forgot where I was and where I was going. I started an original work before the pandemic, and after shopping it around to many editors, and having no luck, decided to shelve that and start a new story during the pandemic. I ran into some writers block with it and that’s when I discovered the world of OBX, binged all three seasons after three came out, and then decided JJ needed a love interest! Hello, Audrey!

When I first write a new story, I normally write the scenes that are stuck in my head. For Audrey’s version, that was JJ and Audrey’s first kiss, the Pogues finding out about them, the first time they have sex, and the final scene when John B and Sarah are presumed dead. From there, I based an outline on the show with everything I wanted to include and then worked to fill in the blanks with my original plot’s outline, and then started writing. I write mostly in order and take the story in acts. I typically have a rough idea of how many chapters are in an act, and I know where I want the act to end, so it’s filling in everything in between from there. For me, it makes it less overwhelming and less daunting.

Sometimes my outline is a detailed Trello board with in-depth cards of everything I want to happen and the order I want them. Other times it’s a Google doc where every line is a plot point with random thoughts in between. Sometimes I scribble in a notebook because all of that is too overwhelming.

Outline wise, I like to follow the Save the Cat! method. I think it makes the most sense to my brain, and then I lengthen or add in beats/points because it’s fanfiction and if the story goes over 40 chapters, or is a little on the long side, no one is upset about it, hahahaha.

For fan fiction, I write and edit and then write and edit, etc. For Wild Winds, I already have 10 chapters done and ready for editing, but because I’m using it as a way to help my brain relax from the other two stories, I’m not editing them until after I update chapters for the others. For my original work that I am slowly working on, I’m just writing/word vomiting and then plan to do a huge first edit after the first draft is complete.

I think whatever method works for you and your brain is amazing, this is just works for mine. (At the moment, I fully expect it to continue to change!)

I hope I answered your question! Let me know if I didn’t! I tend to ramble… 🤣

[eorzean-capitalist]

Hypergraphia.

I've been on a journey since Nov. 1st. A wild one.

I decided this year to do NaNoWriMo again. I've completed it two other times, albeit a very long time ago. 2001 and 2003. I've tried a few other times, but never successfully and it's been a very long time since I've thought about trying again.

But hey, I've been off antipsychotics for 6 months now. I figure I can write again. Maybe sustain enough of a momentum to cross the finish line again.

If I knew then what I know now, I may have decided not to. Maybe I would have anyway. Hard to say.

I did some prepwork. Decided I wanted to write a ghost story about a house haunted by the ghost of a disabled girl, killed by her father in the 1940s. I was calling it Astrid's Attic. Made a basic outline. Created and fleshed out some characters.

But then Nov 1st rolled around and I found myself staring at a blank google doc with no idea how to kick it off.

I had music on. A Skid Row song I used to like back in the early 90s was the next track. And I dunno. It was like lightning struck. A memory from my childhood roared back to life and the words jumped onto the page.

Only it wasn't Astrid's Attic. All that prep work, the outline, the idea of it, just vanished as I drew from ancient memories of a 14 year old in the early throes of mental illness and the storm of adolescence.

I'd started this strange world of psychics and secret societies. And a fake rock band was my vehicle at the time to tell the tale. The characters were an amalgamation of the bands I listened to at the time. Rock and metal from the 1989-1991 era.

But this time, I wasn't 14 and struggling to find the right words to convey the thoughts in my brain. I wasn't writing with pen and paper, filling notebook after notebook with whatever my brain was vomiting up with the limited vocabulary and writing skills I had at the time.

Now I'm several decades older, I type something ridiculous like 160 words a minute, and I know how to craft a narrative.

So 12 days later.... I'm over the finish line and my brain is not done. Oh no. By the end of November, I dropped everything into a word calculator. Over 200k words. The main story doc itself, and miles of notes and brainstorming I did over the month as I worked out the details.

Hypergraphia is a weird thing. A blessing and a curse. Because since embarking on this journey, I can't do anything else. I can't think of anything else. My days are either spent writing, or thinking about writing.

I could put a stop to this. I've already told my therapist what's going on and we're trying to figure out how to contain it. Direct it. But it's really gd hard. I could go back on a low dose of antipsychotic.

But I don't really want to. At least, not till the boys' story is finally told. The demon sleeping in my memory since 14 finally exorcised.

I think I owe younger me that much, at least.

[panther-of-shadows]

I finished The Faithless (Magic of the Lost #2), and finally I'm saying here what I haven't before. I've been biting my tongue, expecting -and hoping- the book somehow would get better, that Touraine's toxic hypocritical attitude would get better in time. It didn't, it only got worse. And man, bite my head off if Luca doesn't deserve someone acknowledging everything she was, thought and did. Acknowledging her identity. She deserves better than fucking martyr-syndrome Touraine. Aranen told her near the end "you deserve better than her [Luca]" and no, ma'am. No, I can't shup my mouth anymore, because Aranen got it backwards.

I recognize a toxic, abusive relationship when I see one because I've lived through a couple of them myself; however, what I didn't expected in this context was for the slave soldier to get abusive with the princess of the empire that had colonized her country. And it breaks my heart that no one in these stupid books noticed the actual problem behind Touraine and Luca's "relationship". No matter what Luca's intentions are and neither what she does or does not, every action of hers is something suitable that Touraine can wield and does wield to attack her. Their relationship works like this: Touraine puts a weigh on her shoulders and then, looking twice, complains and gets irrationally mad about said weight as if she wasn't the one who placed it there, lashing out at Luca. It. Doesn't. Make. Sense.

I could point out a thousand different moments and evidence to argue my opinion, but I'm deeply tired of the same shit after so many pages. The thing is she stripped Luca of everything she used to have, leaving her with nothing but emptiness, misplaced guilt and sorrow, by making her feel responsible and holding her accountable for every event that has occurred since their first encounter until Luca wouldn't make a decision without Touraine's approval as her confidence evaporated into thin air. What's even sadder: Touraine isn't the only character treating Luca like she's the culprit of all evils - little reminder: her uncle has been on the throne for over 20 years now, and the proletarian people of Balladaire thought fit to blame the princess for their horrid situation so much they even sent a girl to murder, not the duke, but HER.

And this is how you break a person, from the inside, with blame, undervaluing and disregard as your tools. The worst part of it all is that it's not even written on purpose to put the focus on one real issue or to mess with the reader's moral compass (as Tamsyn Muir does in TLT, which is done with so much taste), it's fucking 'romanticized', it's presented as something supposed to be cute and adorable, something to aspire to, the culmination of love, and I just want to vomit your toxicity out of my brain, CL Clark.

Dear writers out there, if you're going to create a character to be a veiled victim in the name of "romantic love", just don't, let them be. They may be fictional, but they deserve better. We deserve better. It's not okay to be beaten emotionally over and over again in the name of love. It is not.

[bi-bats]

hello!! i was just wondering, since the damitim fic is ongoing, does this mean know yourself updates are slowed/paused? (not a complaint i’m loving both!!)

Hiya!! Sorry that I never give easy answers 😂

So yes, Know Yourself updates are slower (not paused or on hiatus!! I am working on it still), but it's not because of the DamiTim fic.

I've been writing Know Yourself for over a year now (even though I haven't been posting it that long) and I'm just struggling with getting the words on the page to be what I want them to be. The plot is sorted out and I'm content with what I'm going to make happen, but also when I think about the fic my brain starts to feel the way my eyes do when I stare at a screen too long 😂 so I'm trying to be patient with myself and let myself take my time with it instead of pushing something out that I'm really not happy with, because 1) I think it'll show, 2) I'll just burn myself out, and 3) if I treat it like a chore it'll never get finished.

Also I've realized (post-jaytimweek) that I prefer writing in present tense, it makes everything feel more natural to me and I can control some writing things like timing and flow a little better and I WROTE OVER 100K WORDS IN PAST TENSE FOR THAT FIC AND I'M NOT FUCKING SWITCHING NOW!!!! SO I GUESS I GOTTA FINISH IT IN PAST TENSE!!!!

And also we're at the point in the plot of Know Yourself where I'm really stepping on the gas on the number of things happening per chapter, and the chapters are overwhelmingly long. And I would love to simply be more brief, but everything happening is relevant to the plot, so. Sigh.

Now, the DamiTim fic.

That one is just going up because that fic is happening to me. I can't prevent that fic from occurring. I would love to think about something else, actually! That boy is so unwell! But that's what I'm feeling inspired about and lately I've only been able to write when something worms into my brain and I have to put it on the page immediately no matter where I am or what I'm doing (I have a newish manager who doesn't know how to write a schedule, so I'm currently on day 7 of a ten day stretch of work where I only had one day off, which I had to spend doing all my chores and then hosting D&D. So basically, gone are the days off where I could just sit at my computer and write for a day 😭😭😭).

Also, Ive been having problems with Know Yourself since May, but the DamiTim fic is just fucking pouring out of me fugue state style. My brain hasn't latched onto DamiTim and released Know Yourself in favor of it, it's that the claws of Know Yourself began to unsink from my flesh like, 2 months ago and DamiTim saw its chance. Like, this isn't about to be a cute analogy, but I feel like I'm vomiting out the DamiTim fic because it's a virus. It can't be in my brain anymore okay? I need it out. And it feels like a shame to have like, almost 40k words of it written and just sitting in my drafts when I could be updating it (which I'm sure you appreciate if you're loving that one too 😂), and it has the added benefit of yall knowing I haven't abandoned the fandom/preventing yall from thinking that something horrible has happened to me!

Tldr/to reiterate: yes I'm slowing down on Know Yourself, but it's not because of any of the other chaptered fics I'm working on.

Anyways, sorry this got long and ranty, I think I needed to vent all this out anyways so thank you for giving me a chance to do that!! And also thank you for phrasing your ask the way you did, I really appreciate you specifying that you're not complaining 😂 this is a valid question (that did not upset me but could've if the phrasing was different) and I didn't feel pressured so thank you!!! Ily anon 💕💖💚

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Fic Tag Game

I was tagged by @beri-allen. Thanks!

How many works do you have on Ao3? 14

What's your Ao3 word count? 51 699

What fandoms do you write for? Currently only Wednesday, but I used to be really active in the Harry Potter fandom in middle/high school.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. Biology Lessons 2. I Dig You (Up) 3. Read the Fine Print 4. Payback Is a Bitch 5. Window Shopping

Do you respond to comments? I did for a bit but I honestly don't know what to say other than "alkjsjdf thank ily" and I feel super awkward. I love you all and your comments make my days brighter <3.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Why would you ask me, a porn writer, this... I Dig You (Up), 100%.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I'm a porn writer, they all have ✨ happy endings ✨. I'd say Biology Lessons.

Do you get hate on fics? No hate so far, just one very very horny man who described what he did (in detail) while reading the fic. I deleted that comment after vomiting in my mouth a bit.

Do you write smut? What kind? Yes. And yes.

Do you write cross-overs? I've never been interested in crossovers. And I usually only fixate on one thing at a time.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No. Let me call my waifu real quick to see if she's interested in some translation work lol (we're both professional writers/translators)

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? No. Hmu tho 👀 

What WIP you would like to finish, but doubt you ever will? I'll finish all of them... eventually. I will!

What's your all-time favorite ship? Let's go back to my roots: Wolfstar (Sirius Black x Remus Lupin) from Harry Potter. I've been in love with Remus since I was 9 and I love angsty relationships. I've had a thousand OTPs in my life, but they're my forever one.

What are your writing strengths? I will literally write 10k in one go.

What are your writing weaknesses? If I don't want to write, I will not write. I've literally stared at blank pages for months. But it's a cycle, I know I'll be back on my bullshit in no time.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Depends.

First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter, closely followed by The Mortal Instruments.

Favorite fic you've ever written? I'm so so happy with Stuck in the Middle with You. It was a literal 6k word vomit that came out fabulous. I have to say that Heaven's a Place on Earth with You (a short Attack on Titan thing I wrote like 10 years ago) has a special place in my heart.

What fic would you want to rewrite one day? Frankly, all of them. I'm impatient and publish first drafts and I think they deserve some reworking. They're fine for now but if I ever want these to become a portfolio, they'll need some serious editing. This might be the right time to confess that all my fics are written by a possessed author, reread for typos once then published as they are. Y'all are tapping directly into my brain here.

I've been out of order for so long idk what's been going on/who's done this already. I tag @suchaladyy, @nonamemanga, @cupoteahatter, and @wincestation