#it’s been almost a month since that hospital visit and I’m still not back to 100%

[felis-insomnis]

My entire household got covid recently, and while it wasn’t as hard on my lungs as I was expecting (being a fat asthmatic), I still absolutely wouldn’t wish that on anyone. That was **miserable**.

I was still wearing a mask before we got covid and I’m not going to stop wearing a mask anytime soon. I don’t care if like 90% of people aren’t anymore.

weirdos who are harping on about ~covid tyranny~, still, in november 2022, are absolutely on a different planet. look around! you won! no one wears a mask and you dont have to either! you dont have to get vaccinated! no one is even trying to make you anymore! the most vulnerable have been fully forced out of public life so that you can breathe on everyone at cub foods! you got every single thing you want and you’re still crying about “covid nazis” … you are delusional. you are tripping. the dynamic you have created in your mind, in which you are a rebellious scion of individual liberty in a world gone mad with excess caution, does not reflect the conditions of reality. it is embarrassing fantasy. there’s nothing more embarrassing than a jerkoff on the winning team who can’t accept a world where they’re not a righteous underdog. as much as you insist that you don’t want to “live in fear,” it is your own obvious terror of changing your behavior that has defined the trajectory of the past three years. please shut the fuck up forever.

[wosoamazing]

Mummy or Leah

Summary: Based on this request.

Warnings: Mention of death (Rs parents, Cancer) - like in last Paragraph thats it, mention of Arsenal's Injuries last year....

Summary: It's only short, but I hope you like it :) - currently I am working on the McFoord Teen!Reader Fic and the next story in the McFoord Baby Series.

Today you were going to your first England camp since your Mum got an ouchie knee that meant she couldn't play for a long time, Beth and Viv had also hurt their knees, and Laura, something about an ACL. Lia, your Mummy’s friend had moved in to help originally but then she got hurt too. You had only recently been adopted by your Mummy when she got hurt, it scared you, you didn't want her to die too.

“You excited bub?” Your Mum said as she got you out of your car seat, you didn't say anything immediately seeing Lucy.

“Ucy!” you screamed as you ran to her, she scooped you up and threw you into the air.

“I think you’ve got your answer,” Alessia giggled.

“Nice to see you again, little one, where is your Mum?” She asked, picking you up, you pointed to where your Mum was standing with her Arsenal teammates, she started to walk over to them.

“Wessi” you said as you made grabby hands for her.

“That didn't take long,” Lucy said as she handed you over to Alessia.

“Oh Lessi is currently the favourite, isn't she monkey,” Alessia asked you as she tickled you, causing you to giggle.

“Wove Wessi, we go pway? Tooney, Mary?” Alessia looked over to Leah, who nodded.

“Sure monkey, let's go find them, I just need to go take my stuff up to my room,”

“We’ve got it Less, don’t worry,” “Thanks Le.”

__

“Weah,” you said as you reached up and tugged on her shorts, she hadn't noticed you walk in with Mary, you and Mary had run away from Alessia, so she was still outside, “What did you just say bub?” “Weah”

“Who’s that?” you pointed to her, “is that my name?” you nodded, she should know this shouldn't she, “but I’m Mummy, I’m your-” 

“Leah,” Alessia said loudly as she walked into the common room.

“Weah” you repeated after Alessia.

“Oh, I see the problem, do you think you need to call me Leah because everyone else does bubs?” you eagerly nodded your head, “oh, well yes, everyone else does call me Leah bubba, but that's only because I’m not their Mummy, you see I’m you Mum. Aren't I?” you eagerly nodded your head, “Well then, you get to call me Mummy.”

“O-tay” you replied before a big yawn escaped your mouth.

“Nap time?” you shook your head, “I think so bubba, why don’t you see if Beth will let you lie with her and you can nap,” you nodded slowly and your Mum put you down and you toddled over to where Beth was laying on a bean bag, she almost seemed sad.

“Bef, I nap wif you?” “Sure monkey,” she picked you up and you curled up on her torso, your head resting on her chest. 

“Wove oo,” you said to her, causing her heart to melt, a few tears started to well in her eyes, she tried to push them down as she drew circles on your back but when you drifted off to sleep and Leah went over to her, they left her eyes. Leah didn't say anything but wrapped her arms around her as best she could without disturbing you. A year ago today was the day a few of the Arsenal girls had met you, they were visiting kids in the hospital and saw you just walking about, as soon as Leah met you and found out your Dad had just died and that you had no one to care for you, as you Mum had died earlier from cancer, she knew she was going to adopt you. Your adoption was made official after you had been living with Leah for just over a month.

April 19 2022 marked the best and worst day of Leah’s life, it was the day you became hers officially but it was also the day her whole world came crashing down.

[justmeinadaze]

Created a Monster (Steddie X Kas Y/N)

Every time I hear this song this idea pops into my head but it's not what I'm used to writing per say. I wanted you guys to read like a preview and tell me if this is something you'd want more of or a one shot. Or whatever lol Just some feed back :) It's been sitting in my WIP forever but I can't stop thinking about it.

Warning: Steddie X Kas Fem Reader, mentions of grief and how much the boys miss her, I twisted some things from the show obviously. Instead of Eddie fighting, Y/N does. I also read up a bit on Kas so took some lore there. Not really expanded on in this preview but...

Word Count: 1956

Eddie and Steve stare at your gravestone as the preacher continues to spout some nonsense about young souls being angels on Earth and being called back home. No one understood what they were going through not even their friends they had fought with. You were their everything and now… you were gone. 

Steve and Robin sat in the cafeteria of the hospital picking at their food as they waited for Eddie to join them. For the past four months they had been visiting Max while continuing to be moral support for Lucas. Neither boy would let on how jealous they actually were of the former Hellfire member. At least he could still hold his girlfriend’s hand…see her face…kiss her cheek.

“The doctor’s said she’s showing improvement.”, Robin mused as she took a bite of bland rice in front of her. 

“That’s good. She’s a good kid who’s been through too much. She deserves to have a full life.”

His friend nods in understanding, scanning Steve over before reaching for his hand. 

“This is a stupid question but how are you doing?”

“I’m, um, I’m surviving. Eddie’s trying to keep it together for the guys but we’re both kind of floundering.”, he chuckles as he places his fork down and leans back. “I miss her laugh. Every time Munson would tell a joke, she would close her eyes and scrunch her nose… so cute.”

“Yeah, she was.”, his friend softly murmured. “She loved you two more than anything. Y/N would talk about you both nonstop to an annoying degree.”

When Robin playfully rolls her eyes, they both laugh almost uncontrollably until his gradually shift into sobs. Rising to her feet, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and in turn he does the same, his fingers digging almost painfully into her back. 

“I miss her so much.”

***

When both boys finally made it back home, Eddie silently flopped down on the couch as he grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. Since your passing, the metalhead had moved into the living room since their apartment only had one bedroom. Without you between them they saw no point in sharing anymore. Steve never said anything to contradict but he wished his friend had stayed. Even though they were never intimate in the dynamic, he would have rather shared a bed with his friend than be alone. It was just more of a reminder that you were gone. 

“Another group of men were found dead today outside of their homes, stabbed through the chest, and with nothing stolen or motive perceived from Hawkins PD. We reached out to reinstated Chief Hopper for comment but at this time none was given.”

“Something we should be worried about you think?”, Steve asked as he came up behind his friend to watch the tv.

“I mean, as long as they aren’t blaming me, I’d say no.”

“It doesn’t seem like Vecna either. No broken bones or eyes caved in—” Rising to his feet, Eddie hastily turned off the tv and reached for his jacket. “Eddie—”

“I agree. No Vecna. I’m, um, I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Is this how it’s always going to be?! Are we just going to be awkward around each other now? She wouldn’t have wanted that, Ed.”

A smooth, sarcastic laugh escaped the metalhead’s lips as he turned to face his friend. 

“Yeah? Well, I wanted her here and she’s fucking dead. We both don’t get what we want.”

“So, you’re just going to sully her memory like that?”

“Oh, fuck you, Harrington! She’s the one that ran off even though I told her not to move. She’s the one that decided to fight instead of listening to you and not being a hero. She’s the one who DIED IN MY FUCKING ARMS!” As his voice cracked, he paused to collect himself. “Y/N’s gone. She doesn’t get a say anymore.”

With that he turned on his heels and slammed the door. 

“He’s always been really hot headed hasn’t he?”, the vision of you giggles as you kick your feet against the counter. 

Steve never told anyone for fear of coming off as insane but this is how he processed you no longer being around; he pretended you weren’t gone.

“Yeah, just like you.”

“Excuse me! I was stubborn but not ‘hot headed’, jerk.”

His head hung at the word “was” as his bottom lip began to tremble. Jumping off the counter, you slide over till you were just inches from his side. Even though you weren’t really there, he swore he could smell you.

“Steve, baby, look at me. He’ll be ok… you both will.”

Shaking his head, he wiped the tears that had begun to fall but when he moved his hands away the image of you disappeared. 

“I love you, honey. I miss you so much.”

############

Eddie pulled his hood over his head as he powerwalked in what he thought was no particular direction. Even after being exonerated people still scowled and hurled insults his way. The ones that hurt him the most were the ones about you. 

Because they couldn’t bring your body back, it was assumed you had died with everyone else. Your family still held on to hope but in the worst way. You parents used to love him and Steve, treating them both like family but after Chrissy’s death everything shifted. They told you to stay away from him and in turn you told them to fuck off. 

Anytime they saw Eddie, they begged him to tell them where you were or where your body was so they could properly grieve. He ignored them as best he could but it killed him because he knew the truth. That’s something he and Nancy could connect on. Every time she told him about her experiences with Barb it comforted him to an extent. He hoped one day he could give them peace like her friend’s parents got. 

Stumbling over his feet, the metalhead finally took note of his surroundings realizing he had walked to Hawkins Cemetery. Sighing heavily, he gave in and let his feet continue to lead him till he was in front of your plot. 

“Y/N Y/L/N. 1986. Loving Friend, Daughter, and Girlfriend.” 

“Fucking basic shit. You were way more than that.”, he grumbled as he took a seat facing your stone. 

“I’m angry with you; so fucking angry. I told you to go up the rope but you insisted I go so I could catch you like Steve had. I should have known better. How could you do that? How could you leave us like that?!”

“I didn’t do it by choice.”, the vision of you replied in a sad but calm tone as you sat on top of your own stone. Eddie’s jaw tightened as he looked in the opposite direction. “Still ignoring me?”

“You’re not real.”

“True…but it helps Steve. At least that’s what you hope after hearing him talk out loud to me the other night. He really hates being alone, you know? He wants to talk to you but—”

“I can’t talk about you with people. Not yet.”

“Ok, then don’t talk about me. Maybe talk about D&D or Steve’s day. Anything else. Eddie, just because I’m gone doesn’t mean you two stop being friends.”

“Don’t preach to me, babe. I don’t want to hear it.”

“What do you want to hear?”

“Nothing. That’s all I ever fucking hear now. I don’t hear your stories about work or your family. I don’t hear you laughing at my jokes or your sarcasm when you’re making fun of Steve for his lack of movie knowledge. I don’t hear your fucking breath in the middle of the night when you’re sleeping or see you bite your lip when you’re thinking about something complicated. I don’t feel your fingers in my hair when I’m lying on the floor listening to music or your lips against mine. Why, Y/N? Because you’re fucking DEAD!”

The vision of you watched with sympathetic eyes as his shoulders shook and he sobbed in his hands. After a few minutes, he wiped his nose on his sleeve, finding you sitting cross legged in front of him with your knees inches from his own. 

“I don’t know how to live without you, sweetheart.”

“Eddie… I never loved anyone on this planet as much as I loved you and Steve. If it meant keeping you both safe…I would die again.”

“It was our job to protect you.”

“And you did such an amazing job.”

Shaking his head, he glanced towards a tree in the distance before turning your way to find you gone. 

“I love you, baby.”

################

Steve’s eyes snap open at the sound of glass breaking before quickly grabbing his bat and slowly stalking to the kitchen. 

“Jesus Christ!”

“I just go by Eddie but…” They both exasperatedly laughed as the other boy lowered his weapon. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. I just left the cemetery and I didn’t realize it was so fucking late.”

“Did, um, were you going to see her?”

He could have responded sarcastically but your words lingered in his mind. 

“Yeah… I just needed to hash some things out with her.”

“I know how you feel. Sometimes I get really angry at her to but then I get confused because I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Yeah.”, Eddie laughs as well. “Fuck, this sucks.”

As his friend nodded, a shadow on the wall caught the former jocks attention. It looked like a figure but that can’t be right because they were on the fourth floor of their complex. Just as he began to glance to find out what it was, their window shattered causing both men to fall to the ground and cover their heads. 

Steve recovered first, swiftly grabbing his bat and blocking the weapon that begun to swing down towards the metalhead. To his surprise it did stop it but as soon as he pushed the figure back, the bat cut cleanly in half. It took him a few seconds to realize the stranger in front of him was wielding a sword causing him to duck out of the way as the person continued swinging it at him. 

While trying to find something to defend himself with, he heard Eddie call his name and turned just in time to see him slide another sword his way. 

“Isn’t this fake?!”

“Please! We’re nerds! Do you think Y/N and I would buy anything fake!?”

Just as Steve unsheathed the weapon, it clinked loudly against the strangers. Both beings went toe to toe with the pretty boy surprising even himself. He got too cocky, however, lowering his guard just enough for the figure to punch his chest knocking the wind out of him as he fell to the floor. 

The armor the figure was wearing loudly tapped against each other as they stepped forwards and pointed their weapon at Steve’s throat. With wide eyes, he watched as the person took off their helmet and casually tossed it to the ground as their hair fell around their face.

“Y/N?”

The boy whined as you tilted the sharp weapon up towards his chin causing him to stretch his face out of the way. 

“My master sends his regards.”, you hiss as you step back and raise your sword. 

Before you can do anything, something hard collides with your head and you faint to the ground.

“Ok, I’m not dreaming right? Or hallucinating?”, Eddie asked as he reached for Steve’s hand to help him off the ground. 

“No, dude. At least I don’t think so…”

[shares-a-vest]

@steddielovemonth Day 8: Love is... The heartbeat I can feel when I hug him (Prompt by anon)

wc: 535 | Rated: T | cw: Hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries, scars and bandages

Tags: Post Season 4, Eddie Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Injury

I’m Taking You Home Now

Eddie swings his legs over the side of the hospital and plants his sock-covered feet almost to the ground for what is hopefully the final time.

He knows Wayne and Steve are picking him up today. He knows they have packed his things – that a fresh, comfortable and new set of clothes is sitting on the hospital chair in front of him.

It’s the same chair Wayne, Dustin, Jeff and Steve have each alternated between them for the better part of two months while he has been stuck in Hawkins General. He also knows that said chair is uncomfortable, causing Wayne’s hip to stiffen up with every visit – one that makes Steve grumble and say that his back is ‘fine’.

Eddie knows that he is going home today, to a sorta-new trailer in a relocated park.

He just can’t believe the day has finally come, is all.

Nor can he believe that actual Good Dude Steve Harrington is walking in to collect him, all smiles. Just for him.

“You ready?” he beams.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, frowning and balling his fists on the stiff mattress.

His feet are only barely touching the ground. The bed is still too high up, positioned the same as it has been since he first woke up a good week and a half after Spring Break.

His body still aches all over and he’s got more than a bandage (or five), plus a few more stitches to deal with at later dates.

But he’s intact. Put back together.

Alive.

Steve sets a bag down, one that looks just like the bag of delicious food and treats Henderson’s mom always brought in and shared around.

“Let me help,” he says, coming to stand right in front of him.

“Just…” Eddie trails off, settling back down, “Give me a minute.”

“Okay,” Steve says, his voice soft and soon Eddie feels delicate fingers brushing his bangs into position.

He probably looks a sight – knows that a decent chunk of his hair on the left side has been shaved off to make way for a scar he just can’t find all that metal despite what his friends say.

Eddie leans into Steve’s touch as he listens to him explain, “No hurry. Wayne has a bunch of paperwork to sign, anyway.”

He nods and begins snaking his arm around Steve’s middle. It takes a lot of effort when it comes to his left arm, but Eddie eventually manages to get both around Steve. He interlocks his fingers together, the weakened muscle strain now relieved as he rests his elbows (and a little too much body weight) on Steve’s hips.

Steve shuffles closer and Eddie uses what little strength he has to squeeze him tight – even if it’s only for a moment.

It’s good enough, he thinks. Might even be close perfect.

Like this, even with his barely recovering body, a less-than-romantic setting and a somewhat not entirely aligned angle, Eddie is warmed by the feeling of Steve’s heartbeat, strong and thumping in his chest against his own scarred cheek.

Steve shifts and Eddie soon feels a kiss being pressed to the top of his head.

“I’m taking you home now.”

Thump, thump.

[folkloresthings]

in honour of us both going to uni tomorrow, i have a lil drabble request…fernando with a younger gf doing a degree 🫣 nando is my guilty pleasure ngl

EL ur a genius 🤍 my two fav things. also made her do a journalism degree because i’m doing a journalism degree so what

A WORLD AWAY. ❨ fernando alonso x reader ❩

“how’s your essay going?”

fernando’s soft spanish accent is muffled through the speaker of your phone, his face propped up on your desk next to your laptop. the glow of the screens and your newest candle illuminate your face in the top—right corner, hair scraped back and a large hoodie hanging on your shoulders. fernando still thinks you’re the most beautiful thing.

“not terrible,” you sigh, glancing at the word document that has laid untouched since your phone had rang thirty minutes ago. “need some more sources to fill it out a bit. i’ll probably have to stay up to finish it.”

“not too late,” fernando orders, brows raised. “you need your sleep.”

glancing at the clock, you mentally work out what time it is with him. he’d have only been up for a few hours, morning in singapore while it was night in london.

“yes sir,” you chuckle, sipping your lukewarm tea. “how do you feel for quali?”

the usual updates from your boyfriend pour in, and you know he could talk for hours about his job and the race. frankly, you’d let him. your degree was exhausting at the best of times, but you were in your final year now and with the deadline for your dissertation looming, the stress was piling on. fernando’s calls to rant about work or just dissect a race distracted you from your own responsibilities, even if it was just for a little while.

“go to sleep, mi amor. you look exhausted,” he sweetly worries, head titled adorably in the camera. “you can finish it tomorrow.”

“wanna talk to you, though,” you pout, already shutting your laptop and crawling under the covers of your bed. “i miss you.”

“i miss you too, cariño,” fernando murmurs. while the other wives and girlfriends jetted off to as many races as they could, your degree kept you far too busy to be able to visit fernando as much as you wanted to. you went to as many races as you could — but both of you felt the hardships of the distance.

“but you need to sleep. i’ll speak to you later, okay? i love you.”

“i love you too. goodnight.”

when you did get the chance to visit fernando at work, he was ecstatic. showing you off was his favourite thing to do, bragging about your academic achievements and whatever article you’d written most recently. it made a nice change to people asking, or not so subtly whispering, about the evident age gap.

you were almost twenty—four, fernando eighteen years your senior. it gained a lot of attention when you first went public, and still did two years into your relationship. you’d learned to deal with it, but you could always feel the eyes on you when you entered the paddock.

“don’t worry about them,” kika always told you, walking arm in arm to hospitality for a coffee. she had her own struggles, with her and pierre’s smaller, but still noticeable, age gap. “you love each other. that’s what matters.”

and, god, you did love fernando. watching him race, embedded in his element, he was easy to adore. when, every time he took him helmet off, he found your face in the crowd and sent you a wink.

“i’m so glad you could come,” your boyfriend mumbles in your ear when you hug him after the race, congratulating his impressive P5. it wasn’t podium, but you were proud no matter what. your chest seized as his words flew straight to your heart — you knew how much it meant to fernando to have someone there to support him, even with the tough facade he so often put on. you only wished you could be there more.

“a few more months and i’ll have graduated, then i’ll come to every race,” you tell him happily, lips squished where his hands press to each cheek. lingering forward, his soft lips fall on yours and kiss you adoringly. a thank you, everything he wasn’t very good at vocalising when he wanted to.

“i’m so proud of you,” fernando mumbles against your lips, hands heavy in your hair.

“i’m supposed to be the one telling you that.”

“i mean it, mi amor. you’ve been working so hard, and i know it’s not easy being with me. but i’m glad that you are,” fernando admits. your teeth find your bottom lip, willing it not to wobble as your eyes begin to sting with warmth. no matter what happened with the race, or your degree, or even the scandal of your relationship — you had each other.

[her-power]

So Called Chaos (Part Two: Modern single dad! e.m x fem reader)

❤️‍🩹🚨‼️18+ Minors DO NOT interact ‼️🚨❤️‍🩹

Trigger warnings/content warnings: Talk of suicide, talk of death, grief, hurt, comfort. Talk of PPD/PPA. Strong Language. Fluff. Lots of kissing, some petting, nothing explicit.

Summary: Full summary on Part One.

Word Count: 3.2k

(Reader POV)

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your hair dripping wet from your shower. You stare at the scar that sat below your left breast and wraps around to your back was slowly starting to fade, which made you happy, it was a constant reminder of that horrible night five years ago. You sigh, opening the bathroom mirror, taking out your morning pills. 80 mg of Prozac, 1000mg of gabapentin for nerve pain, Excedrin twice a day for migraines, 800mg ibuprofen for muscle pain. You didn’t even bother to go over the nighttime list; you were tired of taking pills, but it had become your daily routine for the last three years since you left the hospital. Moving back to your parents’ house was a decision you and your psychologist made together, but you were set on starting over, leaving the place where your entire life ended. Your mother’s death after the accident was the tipping point, you weren’t sure if you could handle anymore loss, and there was speculation that your mother took her own life. Your father was diagnosed with early onset dementia, you tried to visit him at least twice a week. He still had his sense of humor, but there were times he would ask you about her…about him, and you had to smile, tell him that they were okay, and change the subject.

Moving back to Indiana was a fresh start, and it almost felt like fate to you when you ran into Eddie Munson. The boy you grew to love in a short amount of time, the boy you thought about even when you said your ‘I dos’ to your late husband. Your stomach churns when you think about Sam, your sweet, kind, beautiful husband, he held on until the very end, talking to you while you were pinned beneath the dashboard, the air freezing, the sound of sirens swarming around you. You didn’t know at the time he was impaled in the stomach by a piece of metal, that once they removed him and the piece of metal, he would bleed out and die. He knew he was dying, but he made sure to keep you talking.  “Remember when we went to Aruba?”

“I can’t feel my legs…why is it so cold…”

“Keep talking to me, baby.”

“I can’t see you…where is Lily?”

“They got her out…”

“Sam…are we dying?”

“No…stay with me…”

“Do you think there’s waterfalls?”

You were delirious at that point, you were falling in and out of consciousness, your lungs were heavy, they rattled when you breathed in. 

You grip the sink in front of you, a panic attack settling in, you didn’t want to take your anti-anxiety, you need to do the deep breathing. You need this anxiety to go away before you saw Eddie, you weren’t ready to show him this side of you yet, you weren’t ready to tell him what happened to you, your husband, and your daughter. 

“We can keep her comfortable, but there is no brain activity…”

“I don’t understand…she was fine…” You whisper, the pain in your bones becoming unbearable, you felt your heart turning to stone. 

“You have been the reason why she has been hanging on for these last six months, I know you probably don’t believe it, but she can hear you. It’s your choice what you want to do next.” 

You inhale a sharp breath. “Let her be hooked up to machines or let her die? How does a mother make that decision?”

Tears fill your eyes, and you wheel yourself over to your three-year-old daughters' bedside. You take her little hand in yours. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” You cry, kissing her palm and stroking her blonde curls. “You’re our little fighter. Daddy is waiting for you, okay? Don’t be afraid. I’ll find you.” 

You sit on the floor of your bathroom, hyperventilating and you groan, holding your stomach. You let out a loud wail, full of anger and sadness. Your family never got justice; the drunk driver was released after only being in prison for a year. And you couldn’t bear the thought of staying in the same town where he resided. 

You lean your head back, breathing in slowly through your nose and out your mouth. Deep breaths, baby. They’re coming I promise. Your heart rate slows, and your tremors disappear. 

After giving yourself a few moments to calm down more, you step into your bedroom and get dressed. You toss an oversize knitted sweater over your head, black leggings, and your doc martens. You toss your hair up into a messy bun, dab your face in subtle make up and lip balm. You stretch your back, feeling your spine pop back into place and you grab your car keys. 

You had texted him that you were on the way to the café, and he had asked you for your coffee order. When you pull into the lot, you are amazed at how quaint this place was. It must’ve been new; it was on the same strip of road where Miss Byer’s store was. 

You spot Eddie’s hair as soon as you walk in, he’s making silly faces at Hunter who is sitting in his highchair, eating a cake pop. Eddie meets your eyes, and he smiles, standing up as you walk over to him. He hugs you tightly, and you look down at Hunter who gives you a large toothy grin.

“Oh hello, handsome, you look just like your Daddy.” You smile, gently tickling his cheek and he giggles. You sit down across from Eddie who hands you your coffee and Hunter goes back to eating his cake pop, while watching a toddler educational video on Eddie’s phone. Eddie leans his chin on his palm as he stares at you and you blush, sipping your coffee. 

“You’re staring.” You giggle, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” He laughs, leaning back in his seat. “It’s just wild that after all this time…”

“Yeah.” You smile, looking into his eyes. The same ones you fell in love with all those years ago; the eyes that held a story, even now. 

“What have you been doing all these years?” He asks you, and you should’ve known that would’ve been a question he’d ask you. You swallow a lump in your throat, your leg bopping under the table. 

“I graduated from college with a degree in English and teaching. I was an English teacher in the town I was living in for about ten years. Met my…husband at the school I was teaching at.” You smile at him, and he smiles sweetly at you. 

“Where’s your husband now?” He asks. 

Just tell him this part. Just tell him the first part of your tragic story. The rest will come later. 

“He…he died, about five years ago.” Your eyes are welling up, but you don’t bother to push them back. 

Eddie’s breath hitches and he lets out a huff. “Jesus, I’m so sorry.” He reaches over to grasp your hand and you take it willingly. You meet his eyes; they were sad for you. 

“I’m okay.” You tell him with a grin. “I promise. I’m okay.”

You feel a damp, sticky hand pat the top of your hand and you look to see Hunter’s hand on top of yours, smiling at you. Your heart does a back flip as his blue eyes stare into yours, you take his little 

“He likes you.” Eddie says with a chuckle. “He’s a lady’s man.” 

“Sounds like someone I know.” You glance over at him, and he almost chokes on his drink. 

“I barely had any ladies.” He laughs. “A lot of them just used me because I was in a band.” 

You grin, Hunter grips onto your finger and you feel a certain love creep up on you that you have missed for so long. You make a silly face at Hunter who giggles, and then yawns. Eddie smiles, “He got up way too early this morning.” He brushes his curls from his little head. “He’s probably ready for a nap.” 

You stare at Eddie, wondering if you should say what you’re about to say. “I’m sorry about Olivia.” You say gently. “I didn’t hear much about it, just that she passed, but…I’m really sorry.” You had known Olivia as an acquaintance, seeing her at parties when you were younger, or when you would sneak into the Hideout, from what you remember she was really nice.

Eddie stares at you and swallows hard, nodding his thanks. “I didn’t know you kept up with the trials and tribulations of Eddie Munson.” He jokes.

“Social media has it’s perks.” You laugh. “Robin posts a lot of pictures of this little guy.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes and laughs. “Yeah, she’s obsessed with him. She keeps telling Vicky she wants a baby.” 

“That’s amazing.” You smile. “She should do it.” 

Hunter makes a little squeal and giggles; you take that as a cue that he was getting tired, and it was time to go. Eddie stands up, pulling him out of the highchair and you all walk out of the café. A sudden pain jolts down your leg, causing you to lose your balance but you catch yourself.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Eddie asks, gripping your forearm while Hunter rests his head on his chest. 

You try to laugh it off, but the pain was getting worse. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just some muscle spasms. The luxuries of getting older.” 

Eddie could tell you were in more pain than you were letting on, and you knew you couldn’t drive. You clench your teeth, the pain radiating to your other leg as you lean awkwardly against the wall of the café. You wanted to scream at your body, for taking this moment and ruining it because of your shit damaged nerves and muscles. 

“Sweetheart…you’re shaking.” He tells you gently. “Why don’t I drive you back to my place? I don’t know if I feel alright with you driving home like this. You can sit, relax, put your feet up and we can come back for your car later.”

“Eddie, I’m fine.” You sigh. 

“You’re so not convincing.” He laughs and you stifle a giggle. He switches Hunter to the other side of his hip and gently takes his other arm and reaches out to you. “Come on, can you walk?” 

“I can manage.” You say softly, and his arm wraps around your waist as he easily lifts you from the wall and you slowly walk together towards his truck. You lean against the passenger side door while he buckles Hunter in his car seat. You rummage through your purse to find your gabapentin, and quickly take the tablet, dry swallowing it. The medication would take affect soon, so you had to suffer with the pulsating pain for the next few moments, but you’d been through worse. Eddie shuts the door to the backseat and walks over to you, you smile at him, still gritting your teeth. 

“You’re gonna tell me what this is when we’re back at my house, right?” He says, gently running his thumb over your cheek and you tremble. 

“I’m fine, Eddie.” You whisper and he dips his head down to look into your eyes, giving you a sly smirk and you laugh. “It’s nothing serious. I’m just old.”

“Liar.” He smirks, opening the door for you and he slowly helps you step up into the truck. You roll your eyes, and he winks at you, shutting the door and you sigh. 

“Da…Da…Da…Da…hee…hee…” Hunter says behind you, and you laugh.

“Yeah, your dad thinks he’s funny.” 

“Fun…ee…” Eddie is stepping into the driver’s side and whips his head to look at Hunter. 

“Did he just say funny?” Eddie looks at you, pure pride and excitement on his face. “He just said funny! Good job, buddy!” 

You smile at his boyish face, and Hunter continues to say funny over and over again on the drive back to the house. Eddie is laughing, but also feeling extremely overstimulated with the repetition of the word. “He’s gonna keep saying it, isn’t he?”

You laugh. “Yup. Welcome to parenthood.” 

By the time Eddie had pulled into his garage, Hunter was sound asleep. The medication you took was easing the pain, you were able to gently lower yourself out of his truck and follow him and a sleeping Hunter into the house. His drum set, guitar and musical equipment catches your eye as you walk up to two steps into the house and you smile, glad that he still kept his music talents going after all these years. 

He quietly shuts the door to the garage, and you stand awkwardly in the kitchen. You feel his hand on your lower back. “Go sit down, I’ll be down in a minute.” He whispers and you nod, carefully making your way towards the couch. You flinch as you sit down, you stretch out your legs, wincing as another shooting pain radiates down your leg. You try to focus on something else besides the pain and look at the framed photographs on the wall. There was a nice one of Eddie and Hunter what looks like to be his first birthday and Hunter is holding a toy guitar. You see one of Olivia holding Hunter when he was just born, you had forgotten how pretty she was, and you could see where Hunter got his eyes from. There was a framed autograph picture and gold record of Master of Puppets. That makes you smile, and seeing all the Lord of the Rings merchandise that graced his walls. The pain subsides and you perch your feet up on the ottoman, staring up at the ceiling when you hear Eddie come walking down the hallway. He places the video monitor on the coffee table next to him, sitting down across from you. 

“How long have you been in pain like this?” 

You smirk, he gets right to it. 

“Five years.” You whisper, pulling your left leg under you and stretching out your other leg. 

His eyes widen. “Five years? What happened?”

You sigh. “Eddie, it was a long time ago. I just got some nerve damage and crappy muscles in my legs. It’s just something I have to live with.” 

“What happened?” He asks you again and you sigh, pulling your hair out of your bun and letting it fall, rubbing your scalp to soothe the tightness. 

“Car accident. We were hit by a drunk driver.” You whisper. 

Eddie is quiet. “Is that how your husband died?” 

You nod, stretching out your leg again, you wanted to leave out what happened to Lily for as long as you could. “That is how my husband kicked the bucket.” You lean forward to massage your calf and chuckle. “Sorry, my trauma response is dark humor.” 

Eddie stares at you, pointing to your shoes. “May I?” You stare at him and then your shoes. 

“What do you want with my shoes?” 

He laughs. “I don’t want your shoes, dummy. Take them off.” 

You stare at him and lean forward, untying your boots and kicking them off your feet. You stretch your toes and Eddie takes your foot, resting it against his knee. 

“Where does it hurt the most?” He asks you, gently massaging the top of your foot. 

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this.” You say, blushing at the softness of his fingers as they glide over the exposed skin of your ankle. 

“You’re in pain, and I’m not a fan of people I care about being in pain.” He smiles at you. “Where does it hurt?” 

You sigh, pointing to your middle calf area. “Here.” 

He gently rubs his palm against your calf, and you groan, he stops and meets your eyes. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just…” You sigh, adjusting your position. “Why are you doing this?” 

Eddie isn’t sure how to answer that, he isn’t sure why he’s doing it. He just knows he wants to; he wants to make you feel better. His hands continue to massage your calf, and he gently lifts your pant leg. The first thing he sees is the end of a stem of a tattoo, covering a large scar. The tattoo is three red roses, wrapped around a thin sword. Eddie glances up at you and sees that your eyes are filling with tears, and you have to look away from him. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Eddie leans towards you, cupping your cheek and you shake your head, tears spilling over your cheeks. You inhale, gasping as a sob escapes your lungs and he moves next to you on the couch, pulling you to him. He holds the back of your head and cradles you to his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You…you didn’t…” You gasp and you have to pull back from him. “Eddie…I’m not…I’m not the girl you remember…there’s things that happened that completely changed the person I was.”

Eddie stares at your face. “I’m not the same boy you remember.”

You meet his eyes. “This was a mistake, coming here. Seeing you…there’s so many things that are coming back and so many feelings that I can’t even process right now. I can’t let you see this side of me, you’ve already seen too much.” 

He whispers your name, reaching up to hold your face and you try to flinch away, but his hands are soft, and he instantly relaxes you. “What I see is a woman who is trying her damn best to keep her head above water, who experienced too much loss. What I see is a beautiful, strong, resilient woman who I can’t believe walked back into my life.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Eddie…”

“If you want to leave, you can leave, but I’m telling you right now…there’s a reason we met at the bookstore. There’s a reason you’re here right now…after all this time.” His face is so close to yours and you can’t help but stare directly into his eyes. 

“I can’t bring you into this…with everything you have going on.” 

Tell him what happened to Lily, baby.

No. No. I can’t. I can’t. It’s too damaging. I don’t even like saying it.

The two of you can help each other. 

No, no, Sam, please. I can’t. It’s not fair to him.

I think he loves you.

I loved you! And you died. 

Tell him, baby. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head, tears continuing to spill on your cheeks. This was too much; all of this was too much. 

You take his hands away from your face, pressing your forehead against his. You couldn’t tell him.

Not yet.

You couldn’t tell him about your baby girl.

Your forever three-year-old.

Not yet.

Not yet. 

So instead, you kiss him. 

(Taglist - thank you for all your support my beauties, it means the world - @mysticpeachobject @kellsck @eddiesguitarskills @fearless-wretch-insanity @darknesseddiem @amberolivia666

[babyyweebbitch]

König headcannons

y’all, imma start writing for Call of Duty now 💃🏾🕺🏾 i’m currently playing both call of duty modern warfare and MW2 so if i get anything wrong i’m sorry i haven’t finished either 😔💔 i’m sorry i’ve barely been active! life is very fucked rn, but onto big boi könig headcannons

there are times he will come home from a mission or something very sore because he gets thrown around/hit a lot, he will go to you for a massage or a warm bath (you both had a large ass tub installed in one of your bathrooms because of how big he is and he can’t fit in a regular sized tub)

if he decides to go outside without you he will have to have something of yours in his pocket like your bracelet or one of your pins just so he’s comfortable. he once had a panic attack in target and you had to drive up there to finish shopping with him at another target because almost all of the shoppers stared and watched instead of help him

he’s the type to kinda just eat the pickles after he said no pickles on his order because he’s afraid of making the workers mad. you always have to go tell the workers yourself and he kinda pleads with you for 5 minutes not to and that he can eat the pickles or take them off.

when he asked you out the first time he was a blushing, shaking mess. you two have been friends since you were kids so you knew how he was and how he didn’t like confrontation at all so you just waited patiently and even told him a few times he can text it to you or something if he couldn’t speak. he eventually got the words out and he was fully expecting you to say no and leave but five years later, you’re still together!

he knows his own strength and being 6’10 and over 230 he’s pretty strong — he once hurt you by accident while playing and he refused to touch you for two weeks, he even hid in the closet for hours after it happened because he was afraid you were mad at him. you explained you weren’t mad at him and that it was just an accident

he speaks to you in german while in public, he only does this when he’s anxious, doesn’t wanna talk to anyone or he just does it for fun

has a bunch of pictures of you in his hidden album so he can look at them while he’s away.

you went to the hospital for about two months for a health issue that needed to be fixed and i swear König was having withdrawals at home without you. he obviously visited you all day but on non visiting days/hours he had withdrawals at home, he hated sleeping in the bed alone and he hated not hearing you somewhere in the house doing something. the house was very silent that two months. when you came back he didn’t leave your side

he likes to mess with you a lot if you’re a lot shorter than him. if you ask him for something he’ll kinds just hold it up in the air out of your reach, but then feels bad after 30 seconds and he stops

he takes Christmas abnormally serious, he decorates the whole house, makes christmas themed things/foods and even gets you both matching ugly sweaters! he got one that said “his elf” “her/his elf” and you both wore it on any gatherings he was willing to go to.

he has lured a cat into the house with cheese three times and now you have three cats — congratulations. he almost did that with a deer but you caught him mid lure and you still him from adopting a deer

has kept the same card you gave him when you were kids, he puts it in his pocket while on any missions so he has something other than pictures to remind him of you and remind him the reason why he’s coming home every time

he secretly likes being little spoon (don’t tell him i told u that)

you’re the only person who has seen his face — not even his closet friends in the military have seen more than his hair and face

he let you wear his gear once and he has millions of pictures of you in his gear because of how big they are on you

he has never wanted to get married before dating you, but now that’s all he can think about, only with you tho! marry him >:(

[steddieas-shegoes]

It could have started when Eddie was basically living with Steve during his constant physical therapy post-Vecna.

It could have started when Steve took Eddie out for “adults only” dinners and movies that no other adult was invited to.

It could have started when Eddie visited Steve at work every shift to make sure he ate lunch, and giving him a very serious, no-way-you’re-getting-away-with-not-eating look.

It could have started when Steve had a migraine that almost had Robin dragging him to the hospital until Eddie stepped in and offered to keep watch over him for three days straight.

But it was hard to tell because Steve and Eddie circulated each other like the planets revolve around the sun, and circles don’t really have a beginning, or an end.

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

“Dingus! Your boyfriend is here!”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Robs!”

Robin and Steve managed to work most shifts together, which helped the time pass. They bickered like siblings, though, and when Eddie showed up, Robin tended to annoy them both or completely disappear.

Steve was clueless as to why and Robin refused to give him any hints. “You’ll understand when you’re older,” she’d said with an eye roll and snort.

“Did you just call me his boyfriend?”

Eddie would hate to hear it, but he was like a ray of sunshine anytime he entered a room. At least if you asked Steve, that’s what he’d say, and he’d probably blush the entire time he said it.

He wouldn’t acknowledge it.

He’d pretend he thought that about a lot of people.

He’d be lying.

“I did. Maybe you two shouldn’t be so obvious all the time.”

Eddie and Steve just stared blankly at Robin.

“Steve’s not even gay!”

“Eddie doesn’t even like me like that!”

They both spoke at once, turning to each other in shock.

“I do like you like that!”

“I’m into both!”

They both spoke at once again. Robin just started laughing and walked away.

“You like me?”

“You like guys?”

Okay, deep breath. One at a time.

“You go first,” Steve said, hoping Eddie would clear any doubts from his head.

“I’ve been halfway in love with you for months, Stevie. I thought,” Eddie cleared his throat, awkwardly looking down at the floor. “I thought I was being too obvious sometimes. But I knew you weren’t into me back so. I mean we can still be friends. I don’t wanna lose you.”

Steve took a step closer to him.

“I’ve been halfway in love with you for months, too. I just thought you were being nice to me.”

Eddie chuckled and shook his head at the floor before looking up at Steve.

Beautiful, incredible, stupid Steve.

Never believing that anyone could care about him for him.

“I think maybe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

Steve’s jaw dropped, but closed quickly, his mouth settling on a soft smile.

“I guess maybe we have. What gave it away?”

“Probably the fact that you’re attached at the hip and any time someone mentions either of you to the other you get this dumb lovestruck look on your faces,” Robin stuck her head out from an aisle to yell at them.

“Shut it, Robin!”

She went back to what she was doing, deciding whatever meddling she’d managed was probably enough.

“So let me get this straight…”

“That may be difficult for both of us,” Steve let out.

Eddie cackled. “Oh god. I think I’m more than halfway in love with you,” he got out between laughter.

Steve joined him, mostly happy because Eddie was happy.

He probably should have realized this a lot sooner. Like, way sooner.

When they finally calmed down, they stared at each other with the look Robin was probably describing.

Lovestruck was a word for it, but it was more than that.

They were two people who never should’ve even been in the same circle, and they weren’t until they had to be. But since then, they’d chosen to be a part of each others’ lives. They’d chosen to support each other, and rely on each other, and trust the other person to be what they needed through it all.

They existed as two separate people still, Steve would never wrap himself up in someone so much that he lost himself. Not again.

But they had spent months becoming a pair, unbeknownst to them, and it made them better, it made them find ways to grow amongst trauma no one could imagine but them.

When they kissed, there weren’t fireworks, there wasn’t a world-ending realization that this was the love of their life, or even a racing heartbeat.

There was something that settled though. Something they hadn’t realized had been waiting for months while they danced around each other.

Not even Robin’s cheering from across the store could ruin their moment.

[spookyquill]

The Thorns in My Soul are For You

Description: a Hanahaki Disease AU, Reader is in love with Dazai and has been for a long while. They were in the port mafia but they left with Dazai

Word Count: 2208

Part 3

Previous Part |

TW: Blood, mentions of sickness, coughing up stomach contents, hospital scene

~~

During the course of a few weeks, things turned from bad to worse. You had been keeping track of the news, seeing more and more vampire sightings along with updates of political meetings. You had to disguise yourself every time you stepped out in public, there were a couple close calls with police and other official authorities. You even had a few encounters with vampires. 

Everything had taken a toll on you, much earlier than you’d like to admit. A few nights had been spent crying yourself to sleep or not sleeping at was a more popular outcome. All the running and the emotional breakdowns were not helped at all by the disease growing in your lungs. In fact, it made the disease grow stronger, rendering you weaker by the day. 

Petals exploded on the ground, accompanied by their stems and fully grown flowers, soaked in your blood. Another painful cough hacked it’s way out of your system, ejecting even more fully bloomed flowers onto the floor. You’d have to leave this place within the next few hours if you were to escape authorities. Thankfully, you planned to leave within the next few moments. 

You were too weak to run, too loud to hide anymore. The inevitability of your capture was approaching. You stopped going out a few days ago, your stomach growled in hunger and your body longed for water. Everything in your body ached, your chest aching the worst of all. But despite all the pain, you would rather die than be caught by vampires or police. But you wanted to make one last stop before you were to die. 

You had travelled back to Yokohama, it had taken you a while, but you managed to sneak by everything. 

Throwing the hood over your head to better hide your identity, you ventured out of the rundown building you claimed as your final home. It wasn’t far from your destination, but it still took you 20 minutes to get to the cemetery. 

The leaves rustled in the wind, almost like they were excited to see you after months of no visits. You clambered up the stone steps, quietly approaching the one lone gravestone beneath a large tree. 

“Hi Odasaku. Long time no see.” Your voice was quiet, not by choice as you began to feel the itchiness of another coughing fit brewing. 

“Sorry I’ve been gone so long, I had to keep a low profile for a while. But now I’m here again. I can’t keep running anymore. The vines are digging in, even now as I’m standing here I can feel them growing deeper into my lungs.” You take a moment to breathe. “I don’t have long left, I’ll be seeing you personally soon. Maybe we can play chess again, I’ve gotten better since the last time we played. I’m sure I have a chance against you.”

Your mind begins to wander, flashbacks of the past coming to the forefront of your mind. 

Moments where Odasaku laughed with you as you swapped out Chuuyas wine for blackcurrant juice. Times where you took a stroll along the beach with him, catching up after a long mission away. You remember the training he gave you, where you first beat him after years of it. That was the only chance you had at beating him. Times where Dazai -

Dazai. 

You haven’t seen him in so long. Last you heard of him he had been captured by the hunting dogs and was being held in a highly secured prison. 

You weren’t going to get the chance to say goodbye to him. You’d never be able to tell him how you really felt, and you had no way to write it down either. You were going to die without saying anything to him or leaving him with anything. Or perhaps he thought you already were? Maybe he does think you’re dead. That’s why no one tried finding you and bringing you back. You’d leave no trace of yourself in this world. You’d be a memory for those who cared, which were limited. 

This spiral of thoughts caused your breathing to increase, triggering the violent reaction your lungs had been cooking up. 

You couldn’t breathe in. All you could do was cough and choke, barely a sound left you. Your vision blurred, red spotting the once grey slate in front of you. You collapsed on the ground, convulsing with each cough that forced its way out of you. Vines were spilling out your mouth, a few of them accompanied by thorns which shredded your throat. 

You were dying. Right now. 

Your final resting place would be that of your best friend. At least Dazai wouldn’t have to go to separate places to mourn. 

You laid on your back, giving in to the fact that breathing in was no longer an option. Instead you opted to wait out the seconds as your brain shut down. 

Everything hurt. But it wasn’t painful. It was… numb. Peaceful. 

Your eyes grew heavy, unable to stay open any longer. 

As you closed them, you saw a figure slide into your vision before it finally blacked out.  

~•~

Everything felt heavy. Your eyes, your hands, your chest, your mind. 

Were you alive? You had no idea, you couldn’t open your eyes or even feel anything. It was like you were submerged in water, forcing you into a senseless pit. 

But your ears were still working, sounds filtered through them. It took you a while but you finally managed to decipher them. A conversation was taking place near you, and you recognised their voices almost instantly.

“She nearly died, asshole!” Chuuya sounds furious. “You are one of the smartest people I know yet you were so fucking dumb to not open your fucking eyes! Dazai they could’ve died!” Dazai? He’s here? But what’s Chuuya talking about? “They stopped breathing. Their heart stopped beating! It’s a fucking miracle the doctors managed to bring them back, but they cannot do it a second time.”

“I thought I had more time.” Dazai sounded hurt, his voice soft. But despite that, he was closer to you then Chuuya was. “I thought I could wait until all this was over.”

“That isn’t how the disease works and you know it! It doesn’t wait for the right time, we’re lucky as hell that they managed to survive with it for so long!!” Chuuya was really mad. “They almost died! Is that the moment you were waiting for?!”

Silence subdued the moment before Dazai whispered his response. “No.”

“Did you think you could waltz up to their grave and confess to them? Hoping that would be enough?” 

Dazai didn’t respond to that. 

“You need to grow your fucking balls and answer the god damn question.” There was silence for a few seconds. “Do you love them?”

The air was suffocating now, suspension hanging on tightly within the room. You could hear your heart beating through your ears. The feeling of a heavy weight seemed to press into you, the suspension dragging on.

Until…

“I do. I love them.”

In the span of three seconds, everything happened.

You felt shock ripple through your system, practically vibrating your body. Your lungs ceased and seemed to convulse into itself, forcing you to splutter out thick liquid. But something was in the way. Your eyes remained closed as your body shook with each strangled cough you let out, blood and roses struggling to get past the intubation tube.

Voices shouted over you saying things that you couldn't quite catch, still muffled due to the shock. Hands were on your body, keeping you still as more were felt at your head.

It was so much. The hands, the tube, the coughing, the mixture of pain and relief. You lost consciousness again.

When you regained your awareness, your body felt lighter, at ease. For a moment, you thought you were dead. But you managed to open your eyes, noting how light they now felt.

White tiled walls. Machines accompanied by wires and tubes. Bed railing on one side. Everything seemed plain and simple for a hospital.

You took a few deep breaths-

Wait.

You breathed in again, air flowing freely within you. You could breathe clearly now. No more breathing through what felt like a blocked up vent. The flowers were no more!

Relief washed over you, a smile carving its way onto your face. You could almost cry.

The sound of slight shuffling startled you. Your gaze shifted to your left, only now taking into account the fact that you were sitting up slightly, bed raised to support you. Dazai rested his head on the bed, one arm being used as a pillow while his other hand held onto yours. 

You stared at your hands, his tightly gripped one against your slack one. His hand felt warm. At least warmer than yours. You could tell by the dark circles under his eyes and the sunken features of his face that he hadn’t been taking care of himself. His usual fit was swapped out for a loose fitting jumper, making him appear smaller, along with a pair of track pants. He looked so rugged and tired, different to his typical cheerful demeanour he danced around with. Even his hand looked more skeletal than it should be. 

Taking a slow breath, you tighten your grip, allowing your fingers to smoothly rest between his. It felt like the final pieces of the puzzle were coming together. 

Dazai twitched, startling you. You wanted to pull your hand away from his, but he stopped you.

Brown eyes opened, lazily looking at yours. You could practically see his brain processing everything. He suddenly sat up, eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“(Y/n)?” His voice was hoarse, most likely from having just woken up from his slumber.

“Dazai?” Your own voice was rough, but you chose to ignore it.

Dazai surged forward, swiftly removing his hand from yours, instead wrapping both his arms around you, bringing you into his chest.

You whimpered in his arms, overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. He is here, holding onto you for life. You encircle your arms around his waist, noting how skinny and fragile he felt compared to usual. 

Tears flowed down your cheeks silently, soaking into the beige jumper Dazai is wearing. 

“I’m so sorry (Y/n), I should’ve said something sooner. It’s my fault you ended up like this.”

For a moment you're confused. But then everything catches up to you. Wriggling out of his arms, you look up at him, his features dulled by malnutrition. Your hands come up to rest on his cheeks, thumbs gently stroking away his own tears that had flowed from his eyes. 

“It’s not your fault. I’m okay now. I’m here.” Dazai can only nod, more tears escaping. “Did you really mean what you said? About liking me?”

Dazai stares at you for a moment, his brown eyes flickering between yours. The next moment, his lips are on yours. They meld perfectly together, moving in sync with no rush in movement. 

“Fucking finally. Only took you three years to grow some balls.”

You detach from each other, turning to look at Chuuya. A smile spreads across your face. “Hi Chuuya.”

Chuuya scowls. “Don’t just ‘hi Chuuya’ me. You gave me the biggest fucking panic. Do you know how terrifying it is to watch your friend vomit and cough up their lungs and collapse in the middle of the street?!” You frown, leaning your head against Dazai’s chest. “Whatever. I’m glad you two are finally together after dancing around each other for so long.” He walks up to you and drops a plastic bag full of food at your feet. “Doctor says you need to eat to replenish your energy. Your body is still getting rid of the disease so it will take a couple of days to do so, and that means you need to keep up your food. Mackerel you need to eat as well. You look like a sack of bones.”

“Aww does chibi miss me?” Dazai quips back with a smile. It’s good to see their usual banter return. It feels like the entire dynamic between the three of you has returned after so long. 

Chuuya scoffs, but you don’t miss and quirk in his lips as he turns away. “Whatever. Just eat all the damn food.” He closes the door behind him, leaving you and Dazai alone once again. 

Dazai pulls away from you, grabbing the nearby chair to take his seat, but your hand on his arm stops him. He looks up at you. 

“Sit with me?” You say with a smile before shuffling across the bed, making room for Dazai. 

“Are you sure?” When you reply with a nod, he slowly climbs into the bed next to you, grabbing the bag of food before adjusting the bed angle so you two can comfortably lean back and eat. 

The next couple of days are spent like that. Sleeping together in the one bed, eating bags of food that Chuuya brings alongside the ADA, and talking about mundane topics. 

When you are finally discharged from the hospital, you and Dazai walk out the door, hands intertwined with each other. 

[scoops-aboy86]

Not Dating, part 2

part 1, part 3, parts 4 & 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 - also on ao3

This is 1949 words and it was excruciating to write because, like. That internal struggle of how to bring up an out-of-the-ordinary kink with a partner is, uh, yeah. Hm. So, here it is.

cw: panic attack, robin worrying about internalized homophobia, steve worrying about internalized fatphobia

Robin flings her front door open to stop the frantic pounding on it. “Jesus Christ, what—Shit, what’s wrong?”

Steve pushes past her on the right and into the house, swiping his left shoulder against his cheek to buy another few seconds of pretending he even kind of has his shit together. He’d been practically shrieking through the door though, and he’s still breathing hard. “Your, ah. Your parents are still visiting your aunt, right?”

“Yeah—Why? Steve, what’s happening!?”

She’s practically running to keep up with him as he charges up the stairs to her room. It’s not until he’s reached it that he turns around, both hands scrubbing over his damp, reddened face and up into his hair. “It’s not a code red, I just… Fuck, I fucked up, Robs!” 

Robin finally catches up and grips his shoulders, peering hard into his puffy eyes. “Dingus, breathe. You look like you’re having a panic attack.”

“Of course I’m having a panic attack, I fucked! Up!”

She’s never seen him like this before, not even after nightmares about being trapped back under Starcourt listening to Dustin get tortured. 

Steve almost never cries—it’s like his parents had berated it out of him at a young age, which personally she thinks is short-sighted and dumb and one of the many, many things wrong with the patriarchy. But he’s crying now, tears running down his cheeks as he blinks furiously and paces and kicks at the carpet every few steps. He winds his hands into his hair and tugs on it so hard she’s almost worried it’ll come out. And his lips keep moving like he’s trying to work something out, or berating himself, or both on top of heavy, too-fast breaths. 

“Steve, can you talk to me? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

He glances at her, then drags his hands down his face and throws himself down onto her mostly-made bed with a muffled scream into the nearest pillow. Which is probably as close to a ‘Okay, just give me another minute and I’ll tell you everything Robs’ as she’s going to get. So she sits cross-legged on the bed next to him, passes him one of her childhood teddy bears because he likes soft things when he’s upset, and waits. 

After a while, he lifts his head, says, “Eddie,” and drops his face back down. 

Ah. 

Robin has been trying to gently prod Steve into talking about the way he and Eddie have been dancing around each other for months. She’d clocked Eddie’s crush on her best friend all the way back in the Upside Down and silently empathized with the hopelessness of his position, knowing well the pain of falling for a straight person. It was the way he and Steve had both gravitated to each other since Eddie’s release from the hospital, though, that had caught her by surprise. She’s witnessed them cuddling on the couch, for god’s sake. Multiple times! And that’s considered so much weirder between two guys than two girls. But Steve has always shied away from the topic… until now.

“Okay,” she says slowly. “Did something happen with Eddie today?”

Steve shakes with something she first takes for more crying, but he peels himself up again with a peel of croaky, slightly hysterical laughter. “Yes and no. We were going to hook up, but… I didn’t say what he wanted me to, so I guess that’s done.”

“You were—” Robin rests a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Really? Wow, I didn’t realize you—”

“We’ve been hooking up for a couple weeks,” Steve interrupts bluntly, sounding absolutely wrecked to have to say it. 

… Last week she’d been trying to coax him towards realizing that draping himself all over Eddie or pulling Eddie half on top of him during movie nights had to mean something. When he hadn’t taken the bait, she’d made some comment about how they lived in each other's brains and were incapable of keeping secrets from her, “You know that, right Steve?” And he’d nodded and agreed. 

So. Wow. 

“Oh,” she says softly, and despite her best efforts some of the hurt creeps into her voice. It’s not like she doesn’t know how hard something like this can be to talk about, how saying the words can make it terrifyingly real. The only reason she’d told Steve had been the temporary death-defying insanity of both escaping actual, literal, pee-yourself-in-terror-a-little-bit torture and whatever lingering truth drugs said torturers had shot them up with; bringing it up a second time, after all that had worn off, had been scary even knowing he was safe. 

But he has to know that she would’ve understood, right? That she could have helped him figure things out so neither Eddie nor him would’ve ended up getting hurt?

And weeks. Steve is her soulmate, her other half, her Platonic with a Capital P, had been doing gay stuff with another boy and she’d had no idea! The guy she only has to look at to know when he’s hoarding the last of the Red Vines for himself, or that he did forget to rewind something before reshelving it, or that the kids put him up to something really stupid that’s going to take up half their day because it involves driving to the game store two towns over or something. How had he kept up that good of a poker face for so long?!

Robin takes a deep breath and tries again, because her best friend is upset and that’s way more important than feeling left out of the loop. 

“Steve, it’s okay.” She reaches out and starts rubbing his back the way he likes when he’s just thrown up from a migraine, in the hopes that will help now. “It’s okay if you like boys. Instead of or in addition to, whichever, both are totally fine and allowed and only make you a freak in the eyes of small-minded bigots who feel trapped in their own lives and hate joy!”

He rolls onto his side and stares at her with red, watery eyes with a little sniffle. “I know,” he says sadly. “I know, that’s… that’s that Eddie thinks the problem is, because I fucked up when he asked me. He asked what we were doing and I couldn’t… I couldn’t think of any words, Rob.”

She shuffles around to lie down facing him from the other pillow, and Steve automatically positions the teddy bear between their mouths because he knows she has this thing about feeling other people’s breath on her face. 

“I still like girls,” he continues while she’s still getting settled. “And guys, sometimes. Or maybe just Eddie, I don’t know. I know liking a guy doesn’t make me a freak, but I’m—Part of what I like about him isn’t—If I tell him, he might think it’s… weird. Or insulting, maybe.”

“Okay,” Robin says slowly, trying to think through the utter blank she is drawing. “Uh, do you wanna maybe walk me through exactly what you’re talking about? Tell me what we’re working with here.”

Steve hesitates, his gaze sliding away to fix blankly on a loose thread from her quilt that he’s fiddling with. “Yeah, uh…”

Maybe he still can’t think of any words to explain himself. Robin nudges the bear aside and pulls him into a hug, scooching up on the bed a little so he can tuck his head under her chin. “Hey, it’s okay Steve. I'm on your side no matter what, alright? I one thousand percent promise you that nothing you say will make me look at you any differently, no matter what, because you’re my dingus and we’re platonically bonded together by fate and that shit is forever.”

A weak, muffled laugh tickles wetly at her neck. “What if I killed a guy and cannibalized him to hide the body?”

“I’d get you mouthwash and an antacid,” she replies promptly. “Your alibi is that we were watching Flashdance again and I had to wrestle the scissors away from you before you made irreversible surgical corrections to your own sweatshirt.”

Steve snorts. “Fuck, okay. But stop trying to tell people I did that, I was joking about that.” He pulls back, chewing on his bottom lip, and then takes a deep breath. “You know how Eddie’s… gained weight since he got out of the hospital?”

“Yeah?” She does, because at first everyone in their monster hunter club had been worried about how stick-thin the bat attack and subsequent coma had left him. Since then he’s filled back out at then some, definitely no longer underweight and with a good amount of color finally back in his cheeks. 

“I like it,” Steve admits in a small voice. “I like touching him where he’s… soft. I don’t know how to tell him that without calling him fat, though. No one likes to be told they’re fat, right? I don’t really like someone telling me I’ve gained weight, because most of the time people only say that when they’re being critical assholes. But… he looks so happy when he’s eating, you know? All relaxed, and he deserves that after everything he went through. And we get high together and I can’t stop touching him, I… I see skin where his shirt rides up I want to bite it. And I actually have! I’ve been freaking out that he’s going to notice and call me on it, but instead he said he doesn’t want to be ‘just’ anything with me and I choked. Bad!”

“Oh,” Robin says, understanding dawning. Not that she gets the appeal of what Steve is talking about, but she doesn’t get the appeal of guys in general so it kind of falls in the same category… And she could’ve done without that fun biting fact. “Oh, Steve…”

She can definitely agree, though, that after a town-wide manhunt and helping to save the world, Eddie Munson deserves to relax and unwind however he wants. They all fucking do, but Eddie nearly died. 

The way Steve’s face crumples up hurts her heart to see. “H-he asked me what we were doing and all I could think about was what I was doing and I just… sat there. I fucked it up.”

She hugs him tightly again. “No no no, this is fixable. We’ll come up with a way for you to tell him, okay? It’s just a misunderstanding, that’s nobody’s fault.”

“We’ve been hooking up for weeks and I’ve kissed him everywhere but the mouth,” Steve mutters miserably into her shoulder. 

“…Okay, that bumps it up to like, sixty percent your fault,” Robin admits, frowning. That doesn’t sound like the Steve she knows. The Steve she knows loves kissing, he’d literally been known for that back in school; everyone had always gotten to see him and his girl of the week (or Nancy, during the twelve or so months they’d dated) sucking face in the hallways between classes, by their lockers, in the parking lot before and after school. “Why the hell not?”

“Because I was already being weird about it, kissing him felt like it’d be… Fuck, what’s that big word Dustin likes to use? Oh, presumptuous. And… he didn’t try to kiss me either, so I wasn’t sure…”

“Dingus,” she sighs, and hugs him tighter. Then—knowing that when Steve gets going about his trysts he does so comprehensively, no detail spared, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but she mentally braces herself to hear more talk about penises in the next hour or so than she has before in her entire life—she says, “Alright, from the top. Tell me everything so we can figure out how to get you your man.”

Part 3, parts 4 & 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

Tag list: @steviewashere (since your ask kicked this off in the first place 😘), @hotluncheddie

[a-bucket-of-trash]

And we see us again – Kelvin x Neutral Reader - One Shot

Prompt: Kelvin has recovered, time for a friendly visit.

Tags: Fluffy uwu

The last time you had seen Kelvin, it had been a couple of months ago, in the hospital, after having been finally rescued, after several months trapped in that hellish forest full of cannibals, mutants and an overpopulation of squirrels.

You had nothing more than superficial physical damage and poor nutrition, after consuming the tons of fish that he caught with inhuman skill, industrial quantity blueberries and the occasional legs that, in the winter season, gave you the opportunity to don’t starve.

Kelvin had it much worse, as his untreated brain injury had handicapped him over those months. Being on the island, you knew that the fact that his ears bleed on their own every couple of weeks was absolutely not a good thing, but in a place like this, there was nothing you could do but give him extra rest when you could, and cool down his head with a damp cloth. The fact that he had a fever along with the bleeding was a sign that something had become infected in his poor head, and the medicines you found lying around weren't the best, especially since most of them had already expired.

Still, the prognosis for him was pretty good. With proper treatment, medication and so on, within a few weeks his brain was working as it should, his hearing was beginning to return and he was finally articulating words. At least that's how you had seen on one of the last visits to the hospital. Maybe he would never be 100% the same as before, but, after what had happened, neither would you, and you hadn't had brain damage. You also needed treatment, especially psychological.

Forcing some of your contacts in the army, you got an address and, in that warm noon, you knocked on the light wooden door, seeing a familiar face open the door, and a pair of warm brown eyes smile in recognition.

"Permission to break your bones," he said, spreading his arms.

You laughed an "Affirmative" before giving him a hug, feeling how he squeezed you hard, almost lifting you into the air.

You had never been there, but you really wanted to visit your old friend of adventures and tragedies. Soon you were inside a very normal house, watching him walk back from the kitchen, a bottle of cold beer in each hand, pointing to the pale couch in the middle of the room, noticing the light coming in through the windows and the music playing in the background.

It was a little strange for you to see him moving fluidly and wearing a brown shirt and gray pants, shaved. Especially after months of seeing him dressed as a military and walking like a hasty duck.

You heard him sigh deeply, sitting down next to you, while you held your own beer.

"And well?" You asked, curious, “How are you? Getting better? You feel good?"

"What?" He pretended not to hear, to which he laughed as you smacked his leg firmly. “I'm fine, I'm fine. Little by little. I still don't hear as well as before, the doctors doubt that I will fully recover, but 90% is better than nothing. Possibly I will have a chronic headache from now on, and for another month I was forbidden to do any physical effort… The worst is the Post Traumatic Stress…” Kelvin shrugged and looked at you “And you? How did you find my house? Our mission was supposed to be… you know…”

"What mission?" You joked, taking a sip “I feel fine, except that now I'm terrified of flying… And well, you know, I can be a real pain in the butt. And I may have threatened to say things if they didn't give me your address."

"You're going to have them accuse you of Treason and end up in jail..." He shook his head softly "But I'm glad you convinced them" He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, smiling "After so much time together, let's just say that I've missed being ordered around by paper”

"I'm going to give you another concussion" You pushed him playfully, seeing him laugh, "I missed you too, puppy face... Did you get your memory back?"

“Mmmm…” He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering. “I don't remember anything about the week before the accident. I only have fragments of the first month, and I have more and more memories of the following months. The doctors say that I will not recover much more because of how my brain was then"

"Honestly, it's a relief" You sighed, looking at him "What happened to you was horrible, but it was also a horrible few months, it's better that you don't remember much"

“It was complicated, but not at all horrible” His brown eyes fixed on yours “You were there, I never felt alone or hopeless, despite the circumstances. I remember the hundreds of times you ran by with an ax in your hand, ripping off heads like you were possessed, but I also remember how you looked for a way to distract me, to make me feel useful, to cheer me up…”

"Don't start, please" You smiled, somewhat emotional "We already cried whole days, I don't need more..."

"You cried" He bothered you a little, smiling "Crybaby" He pushed you gently with his shoulder.

"Shut up" You laughed "You were the one who told me, crying, that you couldn't sleep in the hospital because you felt so alone"

"I still find it hard to sleep alone," He confessed.

“Mmmm” You sighed “Me too…” You remembered something and looked at him “In the end, I never found out your real name. Tell me to replace your code name, because it's already strange to call you Kelvin, Mr. Alpha Bravo Charlie"

“10.4” He laughed softly “But I've gotten used to being called Kelvin by now. It's going to seem strange to me that you suddenly call me Robert"

"Is your name Robert?" You laughed, denying "You don't have the face of a Robert"

"Affirmative, I'm going to change my name to one that matches my face," He joked, shaking his head, before slapping your knee "Keep calling me Kelvin"

“Kel…” You thought, in your own world inside your head.

"Hey" He gently drew your attention, touching your arm delicately "I know I thanked you a thousand times for keeping me alive, but thanks again"

"You're welcome, again" You smiled.

“Are you going to tell me what you saw in the caves?” He saw you deny “What? Why not? Military secret?

"Why do you want to know that?" You hesitated, taking a long drink of your beer.

"Don't fuck with me... If the times I saw a mutant on the island, I almost shit my pants, and you would happily go with your ax to cut off their heads or whatever the hell they had" Kelvin gestured widely with his bottle "You faced them! Like it was a picnic! And every time you left a cave, you came back beaten, without resources, with skin things hanging from your pockets… I want to know what the hell you saw for you to forbade me to accompany you down there”

“Rob… Kelvin” You put the beer down on the table “There was darker than a moose's butt, you were deaf. What was I supposed to do? Put a noose around your neck and walk among mutants as if you were a dog?

"I don't know…" He sighed, before drinking.

“Besides, if something happened to me in there, I knew that you were at the base, relatively safe…” You thought “Knowing that you were waiting for me back, somehow gave me the impetus to be extra careful, to make sure that I would come back to help you…”

Kelvin looked at you, half sad and half warm inside. You took care of him, even with your absences. The sound of his alarm clock woke him slightly, looking at the time, time for legal drugs. He slowly got up, to walk to a medicine box that was to one side, looking for what he had to take. He took out three different pills which he placed in his mouth and swallowed with a long sip of his beer.

"I'm going to kick your head until you even forget about your mother" You snorted angrily, seeing his surprised look "Idiot, don't mix drugs with alcohol. Are you still half stupid or what?"

"Ah" He chuckled, walking back to the couch "It's non-alcoholic beer, overprotective"

"Oh" You lowered your face from him, somewhat embarrassed, seeing him sit nearby.

You were still talking, when you remembered something else. You lifted the sleeve of your shirt, showing him a recent tattoo on your arm, below your shoulder. It was a skull with an ax stuck in it, very similar to the one you had used in all that time on the island. And next to both, what seemed to be a notepad, and on it, written: Survive.

Kelvin looked at it carefully, holding onto your arm a bit. He recognized that handwriting and even the design of the notepad, since he had read commands and suggestions in it, for months.

“It was going to be just the skull and the axe” You mentioned to him “But I didn't survive alone, on the contrary, I don't think I would have survived without you. So the notepad was in your honor."

Your name sounded tenderly on the lips of a Kelvin who had gotten quite touched and who hastened to give you one of his especially strong hugs.

"Silly..." He whispered, closing his eyes "Absurdly silly and cute... Even though at the time I saw you cutting off the testicles of all the cannibals you killed because you were in a bad mood..."

"Aren't you afraid of being next to me? Who knows, I might do the same to you” You smiled, rubbing his broad back.

"I don't sleep well since you're not by my side" He whispered again, holding you more, squeezing you against his chest "I feel safe with you... Calm... And... Everyone who found out I had some brain damage treats me as if now I had the mind of a two-year-old..." He growled softly, somewhat annoyed "I hate being pitied... I'm not incapacitated, I'm not stupid... But..." Kelvin sighed, rubbing his face gently against yours "You treat me like if nothing had happened... Even though you lived by my side, when I was at my worst... For you it's over, and you treat me as such, as myself... That reassures me so much..."

“Oh, Kelvin…” You hugged him tighter “You, at your worst, hurt and deaf, on a demon island, did more than anyone would have done in the same situation…” You tried to lift his spirits a little “I never saw anyone fish with their hands as well as you, you should dedicate yourself professionally to that”

You heard him laugh softly, still squeezing you, as if he was partially afraid to let you go, although it didn't bother you, he was warm and utterly huggable. You knew it well, since, on many cold nights on that island, it was only possible to sleep because you both stayed embraced, sharing warmth and softness.

“Could you…stay?” He asked, almost as if his voice were a distant instrument of the music that was still being heard over the speaker, not daring to move a muscle, “I don't know… Maybe… Maybe you'll let me take a nap like we used to do then? I miss sleeping… accompanied…”

"Me too" You whispered, with your eyes closed, with his clean perfume entering your lungs.

"And have dinner…? I promise there are no fish to eat, not this time.” The soldier teased sheepishly.

"Sounds like a good plan to me, big guy" You smiled "I have weird dreams about fish"

"I dream... of you" He murmured "I only sleep well... if I dream of you"

You stayed still for a moment. The way he spoke was mixing with the feeling of his hands running down your back, and his face rubbing tenderly against your cheek. You prayed that you weren't misreading the signs, you prayed that it wasn't your own confused brain, that mind that months ago had fallen in love with that soldier, and you moved your face slightly, to find that pair of soft lips that had brushed your jaw like the wings of a butterfly, landing on yours.

You were sure that both of you had kissed at the same time, so you stayed there, still in his arms, tasting that shy mouth that tasted faintly of antibiotics. Kelvin was slow to kiss, but that made him utterly sweet, cuddly, and overly romantic, as if he had the time in the world for that. You weren't in a hurry either, you spent a long time in his mouth, caressing his soft short hair, enjoying it, so that later he just hugged you, burying his face in your neck, taking a deep breath, soaking in your scent.

"I hate that I can't do physical effort for a month..." Kelvin growled, impatient "But you wait... As soon as I have the medical approval, I'm going to show you why I could cut wood for hours..."

Your laughter echoed both in the walls and in his ears.

[thebroccolination]

Good evening, and welcome to:

Sentimental Hour

I took this screenshot of a gifset almost exactly three years ago. It’s the first thing of WinTeam I ever saw, and it’s the first image of them in my phone’s photo gallery.

I’ve been thinking about them and writing about them ever since I first watched UWMA, and part of me was a little afraid that when Between Us ended, I’d be content with what we got to the point where I wouldn’t want to write about them anymore.

That can happen when your ship is both canon and has their own series! Especially if they aren’t characters in a high-stakes situation or part of a secondary world.

WinTeam are just two university club athletes who hooked up one night and fell in love over the course of months while they helped each other sort through their respective traumatic backgrounds.

But they’re the most compelling pairing I’ve ever loved, and I still can’t fully put into words why. Look at them, though. :’(

Some pairings I love are superheroes, figure skaters, pilots of space lions, ancient warriors, a firefighter and a dude hosting a benevolent alien that gives him neon fire powers—

And yet, for some reason, I don’t even write fic for most of those pairings. I love reading fic about them, but I’ll usually just write one or two and then move on.

WinTeam, though. That’s a Forever OTP for me.

Some of it is BounPrem’s chemistry. Even when they’d just been cast, back when they didn’t know each other and barely liked each other, that chemistry was there. Even in photos, you can feel that they have a rare spark.

And it only got stronger the longer they worked together.

But it’s not just the actors, otherwise the series would have been enough for me. It’s the characters. The way they’re written in Hemp Rope and Between Us, the gentleness they show each other when no one’s around, the way they want to trust each other but they’re so afraid to, the way they reach for each other even though they don’t have a name for what they are.

I love so much about them.

I love that their deepest fears and flaws connect them. At the start of the story, Team has kept so much guilt and pain to himself for so long, he’s just adapted to struggle through it. Meanwhile Win is alone and convinced he always will be.

It may always kick me in the heart that Team’s confession builds up to a vow to take the first steps because he can see that Win is too afraid. And he can do it because Win spent months giving Team every imaginable route to comfort and security, even when it cost him sleep or time or energy that he didn’t have to spare. The beautiful thing is that because of Win’s kindness, Team is strong enough to take the lead from Win, who’s been trying so hard to steer when he’s abjectly terrified of making any mistake with Team.

They’re so balanced. In such an ordinary, quiet way. They’ll never leave each other to falter alone because they both understand how that feels. There’s no question that Team will go to the hospital with his new boyfriend to visit his boyfriend’s brother, just like there’s no question that Win will admit to Team how lost he feels.

I think I just wanted to write this all down because I’m relieved that I found them, and even more relieved that even though the series is over, they’re always going to be part of my heart.

And they’ve raised my standard for love stories forever.

[nicascurls]

Breaking The Dollhouse - Chapter Seven

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: What would have happened if Junior survived and was taken by Tiffany from the hospital? What would that mean for Junior and Nica over the next year?

Notes: Yes, I know. I'm awful at consistent updates, these may be slow but i promise i will not be stopping for good any time soon. There is still a lot of this story to go. Also, it's GG's birthday today, so this chapter is dedicated to them!

Tags: @barclaysangel @streets-in-paradise @fairchilds-glasses @high-functioning-fang1rl

“I win.” Junior announced once again with a triumphant smile.

“Again?! I knew I was out of practice but this is just embarrassing!” Junior had stumbled across a pack of playing cards as he was ‘exploring’ the week before, Tiffany had grown used to Junior being more fidgety after having to stay hidden when the twins visited, since Tiffany still seems to think that it isn’t the ‘right time’ to introduce them. It certainly isn’t a lie, Junior still dreads being cooped up in his room for multiple days as the twins visit, he doesn’t blame them, only Tiffany. If Tiffany is so focused on keeping him and Nica for that matter, hidden from them, maybe they are actually pretty decent people, he’s never heard them mention Chucky. Maybe they disowned him or something and are being fooled by their mother the way he was. 

The only time Junior can leave his room during those visits is when everyone is in bed and he can sneak out to see Nica. He wishes he could do more than that, that’s the main reason why he feels the need to wonder around more after the visits. Those visits continue to remind Junior of just how trapped his mom and him are, how desperately he needs to find a way for both of them to escape. They had been there for months now and Junior had memorised almost every inch of the house's interior and is still no closer to finding a way out. 

As a small plus, Junior does at least find more things of use, even if that is just entertainment. Like the playing cards that he and Nica had made great use of over the past week. 

“Right, come on. One more game before we get some sleep, I need to redeem myself.” Nica claimed with a smile as she gathered up the cards. Junior only gave her a judgemental look in response, “Winning one game is enough to redeem yourself after losing for a week straight?” 

“Obviously! Now, you shuffle for us, I'm still kinda sluggish right now. I think Tiffany gave me a higher dose this morning.” Nica suppressed a yawn as she passed the deck over to the boy.

“Excuses, excuses.” Junior joked as he began to shuffle, “Aren’t you supposed to be the one to tell me we need to sleep as I insist on another game? You know, set a good example for me and all that?”

“Probably. But were also being held hostage by a woman who willingly married Chucky. I’m pretty sure Oogie Boogie would seem like a good influence in comparison.”

Junior let out a chuckle as he began to deal the cards once again, he knew Nica didn’t want to risk falling asleep whilst the drugs were still affecting her. He wasn’t sure exactly why, he’s assuming it’s to do with her time in mental hospitals but was never quite brave enough to ask. He didn’t want to risk bringing up bad memories for Nica, Junior just wants to make sure she’s okay. 

“Um- Mom?”

“Yeah, honey?” Nica tried to suppress the buzz of excitement at being called ‘mom’ once again. 

“Are you starting to feel better, now? With how much she drugged you? Like- do you know what day it is?” Junior couldn’t help but worry, reverting back to his early tactics when he first began talking to Nica. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay, just waiting for the last of the fog to go. It’s uh- Sunday, right?”

“Monday. May 21st.”

Something in Nica’s eyes seemed to change for a moment then, she looked distant, almost haunted. “Monday, okay…” She took a deep breath and composed herself once again, but Junior couldn’t ignore it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Junior had noticed the way Nica’s eyes were shining with tears that had begun to well up.

She sniffled slightly before answering, “Yeah, I'm- I'll be fine. It’s just-” She took another breath to help steady her voice, “It’s Alice’s birthday tomorrow. She would have been thirteen.”

“Oh.” it felt as if that was all Junior could say. Instead, he opted to gather up the cards and quickly set them aside before moving to sit next to Nica, gently resting his head on her shoulder as a form of comfort. It managed to pull a small smile to Nica’s face as she wrapped an arm around Junior’s shoulder and held him closer, brushing her thumb against his shoulder.

They’re not sure how long they stayed like that, Nica couldn’t focus on much at all. Her mind was consumed by different scenarios and ‘what if’s, all the things she could have done, even slightly differently, that just might have saved her niece's life. 

Nica could remember joking with Ian about how he and Barb would cope when Alice became a teenager, if they would struggle, especially with Barb's constant claims of Nica already being a ‘bad influence’ on Alice. Nica herself could just never picture it. Not then, or now. She couldn’t for the life of her imagine Alice as a teenager, that was part of the pain. Something she once thought she would get an answer to without even realising it would now never be answered, Alice would never change from that cheerful, curious, little girl that lived in her memories. She would always be that innocent little girl who would run to her Auntie Nica’s arms every time they were reunited.

The same one that was scared of ya.

Stop it. You manipulated her!

She had already decided when I found her again!

She was confused because of what you did!

“Mommy and daddy are dead. Auntie Nica killed them.”

“Just shut the fuck up!” Junior instinctively flinched and Nica’s tone and it suddenly sunk in that she had spoken out loud.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry honey. It- I didn’t mean to snap, it wasn’t directed at you.” She wanted to reach out, stroke his hair or pull him close but was also terrified of frightening him again. She had scared him, she knew that, and hated it.

“I know… It’s okay, it just startled me. What was he saying?”  She took a deep breath. “Just- a whole load of bullshit. You know how he is…” 

With that, Junior decided it was best not to pry, Nica had gotten used to dealing with Chucky’s comments, even mastered the art of responding to him without saying anything out loud. Unfortunately, that also meant that it must have been something awful for Nica to snap enough that she spoke out loud without realising it. Nica herself was still quiet, Junior could tell that she was trying to keep her emotions hidden, the same way she would stay silent around Tiffany as she rambled, fearful that if she didn’t she would drop the act of believing she was dismembered and kill her right then and there with her bare hands. She couldn’t do that, no matter how bad either of them wanted it. They would have nowhere to go, Nica could try and clear her name but she would have no chance of that if she killed ‘Jennifer Tilly’ in cold blood. 

It was strange, Junior never thought he would have wanted a sibling, sure he felt lonely growing up and he liked spending time with Jake when they were little kids, but he always knew that if he had had a sibling, it would have just been more comparisons made by his dad. More competition and training, a constant battle for validation from his father. Yet, hearing the way his adoptive mother spoke of her niece, he knows it would have never been like that, a part of him hopes that they would have gotten along. Granted, if Alice was anything like her aunt, he’s sure they would have. He can’t help but imagine how different his upbringing would have been if Nica had been found innocent in her trial and adopted her niece, from what he knows, Alice may as well have been her daughter anyway. Would he have still met Nica? A part of him wished that Chucky was lying, was it possible for Chucky to show Nica things he imagined and pass them off as memories? Maybe Alice could have gotten away, she was safe and hiding somewhere, maybe started going by a different name and is in a random foster home somewhere...

His thoughts were interrupted by Nica taking a deep breath, the kind he had grown accustomed to hearing when Tiffany would leave the room. As if her emotions that were fighting to get out had finally stopped pushing on the door, for better or worse.

“Right,” she sighed out, “Would you like one more game or would you rather just get some sleep, Junbug?”

“Uh, I think I would just like to get some sleep if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, honey.”

As he lay down and began to allow sleep to take over his senses, he couldn’t help but worry about his mom. He could ignore the feeling that she was trying so hard to avoid becoming like her own mother that she would end up hurting herself even more. She was so devoted to making sure that he was okay and staying strong for him that she was fighting all her grief and suffering on her own as well as fighting his grief and trauma alongside him. He had to do something, help her in some way, let her know that she’s allowed to struggle as well. That’s when the idea struck him, and calmed those worries enough for him to drift off to sleep. 

Where the fuck was she?!

Junior was sure he must have checked almost every room in the house by now and yet no sign of Tiffany. It didn’t make sense, she hasn’t left the house since she brought him and Nica here, and she wouldn’t have gone to ‘visit’ Nica without telling him. But the only explanation she had given was that she just had to ‘take care of something’. He half debated going to check on Nica but it was far too risky without knowing where Tiffany was and what direction to listen out for her. 

That was when he heard it, the faint noise of Tiffany’s signature cackle, he focused on the sound, following it intently to find his captor. Before he came face to face with that door, the one other door Tiffany told him to stay away from after Nica’s room. Which luckily, had stopped being off limits after it was clear to her how well he had been getting along with her ‘girlfriend’.

His curiosity got the better of him, he had to know what she was doing in there, was it more voodoo stuff. Maybe she was helping Chucky again, and decided to give him another chance considering that part of him was still possessing the woman Tiffany had ‘fallen for’. 

There was another voice, but it definitely wasn’t Chucky, it was a female voice, one too small and muffled for him to make out the words through the door. It wasn’t long before he heard the familiar clicking of Tiffany’s stilettos and he rushed, at least as quickly as his heart would let him before resuming his place on the couch as if he had never moved. 

Tiffany was already drunk, Junior figured he had half an hour tops before she passed out this time, that's when he would investigate. And like clock work, he watched as Tiffany clumsily placed her wine glass down as her eyelids began to droop. He gave it another five minutes just to be sure that she was out before retracing his steps to the room, his precious kitchen knife in hand. 

He hesitated briefly once he was there, debating whether he should knock. He doesn’t know why, surely no one would be in there unless they had to, so he decided to skip that part and start picking the lock. He soon heard the triumphant click and slowly pried the door open and to his confusion, saw a room nothing like the one Nica was placed in. Strange. He was so sure he heard a voice, he expected the same layout as another bedroom but this seemed to be no more than a storage room. Random boxes and items coated in dust was all he could see, there had to be something he was missing. 

“Hello?” Junior fought hard to keep his voice as steady as possible, if there was someone in there with him, he couldn’t let them know he was afraid. He was beginning to think he had imagined that mystery voice earlier, he was just being paranoid when there was an almost inaudible response.

“Who- who’s there?” Unlike his own, this voice had been unsuccessful at hiding the fear in it, or maybe the owner wasn’t even trying.

“Where are you?” Junior called out a little louder, still on edge but more determined now. 

“In the cage- under the sheet in the back of the room.”

Junior’s eyes instantly landed on a faded sheet covering something that, at first glance, he would have never guessed to be a cage. The shape seemed too big and an unusual size for something similar to the kind of animal cages he had seen in the past but also too small for a human to fit, except maybe a small child. Oh gods, please not a child!

Junior steadied his trembling hand as it wrapped around the sheet in front of him, and drew in one more deep breath before pulling it clean away. 

For a moment, he was frozen by the dozens of questions racing through his head, trying to settle on which one he should ask first. It was a cage, a huge, shining gold, old-fashioned bird cage and, somehow, that was the most normal thing that was unveiled. Sitting inside, on a lining of newspaper with a small desk behind her littered with letters and a cheque book was a doll. Another goddamn living doll, but this one seemed different, she looked almost the same as the lookalike Tiffany doll that human Tiffany had placed in the truck with the Good Guys last November. Except this one had a large wound on the side of her head with stitches holding it closed and an unmistakable look of fear in her eyes, the kind that could not be faked. Besides all those dolls from the truck burned up, fried by the explosion after Andy Barclay drove the vehicle off of Hackensack Gorge, taking himself with it. 

Junior couldn’t ignore the pang of guilt that took over, he had tried to warn him, and he should have listened.

“Wh- who are you?” Junior asked, desperately trying to push through the regrets that were filling his head. The doll’s eyes hadn’t left him once, still wide and afraid as ever.

“I’m Jennifer, Jennifer Tilly!” She rushed on with her explanation before Junior could respond, “I know how that sounds but the woman keeping me here, she’s an imposter! Her name is-”

“Tiffany Valentine.”

“Yes! It’s the truth, I swear it!”

Junior held his hands up in mock surrender, “I know, I believe you. She’s trapped me here too.” With that, Jennifer finally began to calm down, at least temporarily, before some mix of a sob and a laugh escaped her plastic lips, “You know who she is. You believe me and you found me!”

Junior gave a sheepish grin as he lowered himself to sit by the cage, hesitantly placing the fingers of his right hand through the gaps.

“I’m Junior, by the way. How long have you been down here?”  Jennifer took a moment to think as she reached a small plastic hand to hold his fingers as a substitute for a handshake. 

“Oh, I couldn’t tell you exactly. Since my babies were born, that's when she switched our souls. Do you know anything about them? My babies? Are they safe?”

“Glen and Glenda? The twins? I think so, I haven’t met them but they visit once a month. I think they’re doing well…”

There it was, the first smile Jennifer had given it what felt like years, maybe it had really been that long. There was so much more they both wanted to ask but they were interrupted by a distant crash, no doubt Tiffany knocking her wine glass to the ground in her sleep. Both prisoners tensed up, “Kid, you have to get out of here. If she finds you-”

“I know, but I'll come back later, when she’s asleep I promise. I still have a lot of questions.”

“Okay, be careful!”

“I will.” Junior gave her one last apologetic smile before draping the sheet back over the cage. 

Breathe, in and out. Nica had to keep reminding herself of that, to focus on that and the birds moving back and forth, taunting her from the other side of the glass. Somehow that was more bearable than her hunger, the fog around her brain from the drugs and the unbearable itching of the dress she was forced to wear. Luckily, in Tiffany’s obviously still tipsy state, she had forgotten to draw the curtains over one of the windows, so once again watching the world go by became Nica’s source of entertainment as she waited for Junior to pick the lock. 

Anything to distract her from thinking about things that should have happened on this day, including spoiling her niece rotten- No! Focus on the birds, she could just about watch them from this distance as they hop around under the glow of the outside lights. It was nice in a way, being able to see once again that there is life outside of the cage she is currently trapped in, it helps to remind her to keep going, that Junior could have a future still-

Speaking of, the familiar sound of the lock being pried open started once again. Except Junior did not confidently burst in as he had begun doing, in fact he lingered just outside of the room, almost as if he was hiding behind the door. A brief flash of terror struck through Nica as the idea came to her that maybe Tiffany had found them out and was threatening Junior from the shadows. 

However, that fear quickly evaporated as Junior gave his signature half smile,

“Sorry i’m later than usual, I uh-” He slowly entered the room carrying an unopened box of brownies with him, “I was trying to see if there were any kind of cakes in the kitchen but these were the closest thing that I could find. I just thought that, even if Alice isn’t with us, it is still her birthday. I thought you might still want to celebrate her…”

Nica couldn’t stop a few tears from overflowing at Junior’s explanation, she hadn’t celebrated her niece’s birthday since the last time she spent one with her. She didn’t allow herself to celebrate it when she was in Lochmoor, the hypnosis had started taking effect and she told herself she didn’t deserve to be involved in any way. Not that she would have been allowed to do much. 

“Yeah, I would like that…” It was barely more than a whisper, “I think she would have wanted us to as well, not to mention how happy she would have been. She preferred brownies over cake anyway.”

Junior allowed his smile to spread a little further across his face as she pulled two brownies out of the box. The whole experience was bittersweet but Nica couldn’t have been more grateful for it, Junior even had them quietly sing happy birthday and yet, something was still so clearly on Junior’s mind.

“Is everything okay, Junbug?” 

“Yeah, mom. Uh- look. I know it’s kinda shitty timing, and I don’t want to ruin Alice’s day or anything but it’s pretty urgent…”

“Don’t worry about that, honey. What’s the matter? Are you sick?” She instinctively placed a hand over his forehead.

“No, I’m fine but, remember when we were trying to figure out why Tiffany and Jennifer don’t switch like you and Chucky do?”

“Yeah..?”

“I’ve found out why.”

[flowerfan2]

Let in Light and Banish Shade

Just a little hurt/comfort Christmas Eve fic.  I hadn’t planned to get drawn into the Stranger Things fandom this year, but it happened.  Thanks to @kedreeva for that - and for answering my questions (and writing awesome ST fic).  Please reblog if you enjoyed this - I’m a newbie in this fandom and would appreciate it.

Wishing you all peace and joy in the new year.

____

Steve/Eddie, T, 2600 words.  A03.

It’s been months since they defeated Vecna, and almost as long since Eddie got out of the hospital, more stitches than skin but still somehow alive.  He knows he should be grateful to modern medicine or some shit, but it’s hard when he’s spending every other day hoping he doesn’t lose his mind from the pain in his head.

The headaches aren’t as bad as they were at first, and Eddie has figured out ways to avoid them, or at least try to.  He knows for sure that loud noises and bright lights can bring them on or make them worse, so he spends a lot of time holed up in his room, curtains closed and lights on dim.

Unfortunately, this really sucks, because Eddie is not so good at being quiet and staying still.  It’s driving him batty, and even if it’s not demo-batty, it’s still a problem.  He had thought for a while that he could still hang out with the kids, be their DM but just at a lower volume, but that didn’t work.  Dustin got him some kind of super-duper noise cancelling headphones to cover his ears, but then the kids just shouted louder and again, no dice.

He's able to kill some time every day studying for his GED.  As anyone who has ever met him could have predicted, though, it’s hard to focus on that for very long, even if reading didn’t make him feel like his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.

Now it’s Christmas Eve, and to put the icing on the stale donut that is his life, he’s going to be stuck in bed with a headache instead of going to the Byers’ house for a party.  Robin stopped by the trailer a few days ago to tell him about it.  They’ve all been good about keeping tabs on him, Robin and Steve, mostly, since Nancy has been away at college.  Dustin, of course, can’t stay away for more than a day or two, and sometimes Max comes over, still limping but smiling more and more every time.  But even the most well-meaning visits are stilted.  Eddie wants to just be normal again.  To be able to carry on a conversation in more than a whisper, to hang out with a group of people all laughing and shouting over each other to be heard.

The invitation to tonight’s gathering featured Will’s drawing of a huge dragon resting quietly in a snowbank, looking out over a town filled with twinkling lights.  Even Hawkins can look pretty at Christmastime, Eddie has to admit.  Though there’s not much of a view from his trailer, even if the lights didn’t bring on a migraine.

Eddie is lying in bed, playing the game where he tries to figure out if his middling headache is going to get worse before it gets better, when he hears a knock on the front door.  This new (new-to-you, anyway) trailer’s door actually locks, and while he knows it won’t keep Vecna-level bad guys out, he figures it might at least slow down the good citizens of Hawkins that still think he’s a murderer.

Eddie slides out of bed and walks carefully down the hall, wishing he had socks on.  When he opens the door he’s not really surprised to see Steve, smiling shyly at him.

“Come on in.”

Steve nods and complies, his smile dimming as he gives Eddie an appraising glance.  “You look cold.”

That’s the least of Eddie’s issues, but also true.  His ratty t-shirt and old sweatpants don’t do much against the December chill.  “Yeah, well I was all cozy under my blankets until you came along.”

“Well, let’s get you back in bed,” Steve says, prodding Eddie in the right direction with a hand on his shoulder before shedding his coat and following him.

It’s not the first time Steve has shown up, packages in hand, delivering soup or cookies or even a box of Eddie’s favorite cereal.  Eddie knows Steve is fond of him, knows he hates how badly Eddie got hurt.  It’s part of what he loves about Steve, that he cares about his friends so deeply.  It’s pretty amazing that Steve includes him in that group.  He’s not always sure he deserves it, but on days like this, it’s awfully nice.

Eddie slides back under the blankets while Steve rummages in the backpack he brought along.  “Stay here,” Steve says, keeping his voice to that soft pitch he always uses with Eddie now.

“Where else would I go?” Eddie mutters.  He tries not to shiver, it makes his head hurt more, just lies still and wonders what Steve is up to.  A beep from the kitchen catches his attention, and then Steve is back.

“Close your eyes.”

Eddie blinks up at him for a minute.  Steve’s got on a dark red sweater, very appropriate for the holiday.  He’s probably just here to say hi before dashing back to the Byers’ party.  Dashing, indeed.  He thinks he might like this sweater even better than Steve’s sunshine yellow one.

“Eddie?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Close your eyes.”

But then I can’t see you, Eddie thinks.  “Why?”

Steve’s mouth quirks up at the corner.  “You’ll see.”

Eddie closes his eyes, and feels a warm, soft weight laid over them.  He touches it with his fingers.  It’s kind of a bean bag thing; Steve must have warmed it up in the microwave.  It keeps his eyes closed without Eddie having to think about it.  

“Robin’s mom went to some kind of spa getaway for work, and brought home a bunch of stuff.”  Steve shuffles closer and the bed squeaks as he sits down.  “Do you like lavender?  She had some oil, it’s supposed to be relaxing.  But I know smells sometimes make it worse…?” Steve trails off, his voice rising with the question.

“Let me try it.”  Eddie gives the proffered bottle a quick sniff.  It’s only barely scented, and doesn’t seem to make any more daggers shoot through his skull.  

“Pass the sniff test?”

Literally, Eddie thinks, and nods, careful not to dislodge the warm bean bag thing from his eyes.

A moment goes by, Steve shifting next to him, and then Steve touches his temples and rubs gently.  It feels great, Steve’s fingers tracing circles right where it hurts the most.

“This okay?”  Steve asks softly.

“Yeah, it’s good.”

Eddie doesn��t know how long it goes on. Steve’s fingers move up and down across his temples and across his forehead, so slowly and lightly that all Eddie feels is relief.

“Back here too?”  Steve’s touching his hair, sliding his hand back over his ears.

“Yeah.”

Steve continues massaging Eddie’s scalp, easing his fingers through Eddie’s hair.  He shifts a little as he goes, supporting Eddie’s head.  It feels amazing, and Eddie gives himself over to it, the gentle touches creating a soothing rhythm he wants to live in forever.

At some point Steve pauses, maybe thinking Eddie has fallen asleep.  Eddie takes the pillow off his eyes, lifts himself up on an elbow and squints at Steve through one eye.  “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Eddie hadn’t really meant to ask this question, but it’s been on his mind since Steve arrived.  It was bound to find its way out of his bruised head eventually.  

Steve bites his lip, then focuses on Eddie’s face and his expression changes.  It looks like he’s holding back a laugh.

Eddie considers, then turns his one-eyed squint into a full-on silly face, eyes scrunched together, mouth open and tongue out.  He even adds one hand on his head, fingers waggling.  

It makes his head throb, but Steve’s soft laugh is worth it.  “God, Eddie, I’m so-” Steve cuts himself off and rubs a hand over his mouth.

Something tightens in his stomach at Steve’s words.  “You’re so what?”  Eddie speaks louder than he should have, and Steve’s face falls as Eddie flinches at the sound of his own voice.

“Lie back down, come on, close your eyes,” Steve says softly, and he shifts, guiding Eddie back onto the bed, this time somehow rearranging them so that Eddie’s head is lying on Steve’s thigh.  The denim feels good under his cheek, and Eddie is in enough pain that he isn’t going to question exactly what’s going on.  If Steve’s really cool with this rather intimate approach to health care, Eddie’s not going to stop him.

Steve’s hand rests on Eddie’s shoulder, then he goes back to petting his hair, fingers sliding against his scalp.  Eddie relaxes into it, letting out a sigh of relief as the spike of pain fades.  It’s only then that he realizes that Steve has avoided answering his original question.  

“Did the party get cancelled?” he asks, trying not to think about how his lips are practically brushing Steve’s thigh as he speaks.  “Nancy not make it home yet?”

“No, she’s back.  Party’s still on.  But you couldn’t come, so I came to see you, duh.”

Steve’s Dustin imitation needs some work, but his deflection is clear as day.

“Last minute decision?”  Eddie waves his hand in Steve’s general direction, indicating his nice sweater and fancy jeans.

Steve takes in a long breath and lets it out slowly.  Eddie can feel his chest rising and falling behind his head.  There’s a pause, and Eddie thinks that Steve might be picking something up from the D&D sessions he’s been tagging along to, because the suspense is really building.

“I stopped by the Byers’ first, to say hi to everyone.  But I knew as soon as I found out that you weren’t going that I wasn’t going either.  I couldn’t have a good time knowing you were lying here hurting.”  

Steve’s hand on Eddie’s neck has stilled, and Eddie arches up against it.  He hears Steve’s puff of amusement as he starts moving again, the tension broken.

“Them’s some mighty strong words, Steve,” Eddie says lightly.  He’s wondered, from time to time, whether there could be something between them.  More than once there’s been a moment when he thought there could be.  This is one of those moments.

Steve doesn’t deflect this time, just keeps on touching Eddie, brushing his hair away from his face, stroking a finger along his cheekbone.  Eddie’s no genius, but he really doesn’t think they are still in platonic mode anymore.  

“What were you going to say before?  You’re so – what?”

In response, Steve suddenly shifts, sliding to lie down on the bed next to Eddie, catching Eddie’s head so he isn’t dumped off Steve’s thigh.  Before he knows it, Steve’s lying on his side facing him, his hand cupping his cheek.  Eddie briefly wonders whether he’s having some kind of hallucination, but when he blinks Steve is still right there.

“Eddie,” Steve says.

Eddie swallows hard and meets Steve’s eyes, hoping his heart doesn’t actually burst out of his chest.  “Yeah?”

“I was going to say, before I chickened out, that I am <i>so fucking glad</i> you’re alive.”  Steve’s voice is still quiet, but it’s got an intensity to it Eddie hasn’t heard before.  “I know it’s been hard, I know your scars probably pull and itch like mine do, I know these headaches suck and nightmares don’t make them any better, but you’re getting through it, you’re getting better, I see it, and I’m so glad to see it, glad is such a dumb word for how I feel, I mean, I” – Steve’s voice cracks, and he shakes his head a little and goes on – “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Eddie thinks he’s still breathing, must be, but it’s a near thing.  “I’m glad you’re here too.”  The double meaning is probably clear, but like an idiot, he rambles on.  “Here, you know, alive.  And, you know, here with me.”  He tugs on Eddie’s sweater as if to illustrate, and Steve grins.

“I get it.”

“You do, huh?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Steve takes Eddie’s hand, twines their fingers together, and brings their joined hands between them.  “You’ve been playing the guitar again.”

Eddie’s brain stumbles a little at this.  “Um, yeah, little bit, now that my head isn’t killing me every single day.  How did you know?”

Steve runs a thumb over the palm of Eddie’s hand and down to his fingertips.  “Getting your callouses back.  It’s cool.”

Eddie’s never been the subject of anyone’s attention like this before.  No one’s ever cared enough to notice details like this about him.  He must have let this thought show on his face, or maybe even spoken it aloud, because Steve just shrugs.

“’Course I noticed.”

He’s not sure Steve meant it to sound so profound, but he can’t help but hear it that way.  And Steve’s still holding his hand, lying here with him under the blankets, gazing at him like he’s never seen anything better. It’s overwhelming.

“Are you sure about this, Steve?  I’m kinda fucked up.”  Understatement.  “I don’t have much to offer you.”

Steve’s mouth quirks.  “Just a whole lotta love?”

“I’m gonna kill you, quoting Led Zep at me at a time like this,” Eddie mumbles as Steve leans in and kisses the words out of his mouth.

It’s a good kiss, Goldilocks perfect, not too hard and not too soft, with just a tease of tongue.  But it doesn’t go on for long before Eddie needs to stop and lay back down, his head spiking with pain again.

“It’s okay, relax,” Steve says, tucking Eddie’s head on his shoulder and pulling the blankets around them.  He feels Steve drop a kiss to his head.  “You’re okay.”

“What if we can’t ever kiss for more than thirty seconds because of my headaches?” Eddie whispers, mostly joking.  “What if it’s another Vecna curse?”

Steve laughs softly.  “We’ll figure it out.”

“You’re supposed to say ‘thirty seconds with you is more than enough.’”

“Oh, it’s definitely not enough,” Steve says.  “But honestly,” he says, voice lightening, “you’re right.”

“Fuck, Steve, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Plot twist?”

“Of the best kind.”  

Steve lets go of his hand in favor of wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulder, his movements smooth and careful.  “I know you’re still hurting, if this is making things worse…”

“Oh my god, no, this is the opposite of making things worse,” Eddie says, letting himself snuggle closer, digging his chin into Steve’s chest.  “It feels great.  I mean, my head still feels like the demobats are tossing it around like a chew toy, but aside from that, all good.”

Eddie can practically feel Steve’s concern oozing out through his fingers as he cups the back of Eddie’s neck.  “Just rest, babe.  I’ve got you.”

Eddie obeys, sinking deeper into Steve’s embrace.  “You know, you’re kind of an awesome Christmas gift.”  Eddie lets his hand rest on Steve’s shoulder, his thumb gently brushing the soft skin on his collarbone.  “And here I thought I was just getting coal.”

“No way,” Steve says, almost affronted at the idea.

And even though Eddie appreciates Steve’s support, he can’t resist teasing back, his voice sinking low.  “Are you saying I’ve been good?”

There’s a pause as Steve takes this in and switches gears.  He hums softly, sending a shiver down Eddie’s spine.  “The best.”

Eddie’s not sure how he ended up here, but damn if he isn’t going to enjoy it while he can.  And if there’s a chance that this is real – that Steve Harrington is going to cradle him in his arms and whisper sweet nothings to him as he crawls his way back to the world of the living – he’s going to take it.  Turns out it’s not going to be such a bad Christmas after all.

Note:  The title of this story is from 1984's “Do They Know It’s Christmas?" - a song sung by a bunch of celebrities which despite its shortcomings raised millions of dollars for charity.

[steddieas-shegoes]

just saw your reminder deadline for asks post and i had to put something in! first off i looooove what you’ve been doing with these requests and just with the writing in general

and i would like to humbly request should-you-see-fit, your take on a eddie recovery//eddie chronic pain or other lasting symptoms. i adore everything you do when steve is the one hurting and so i’m wondering what that would look like flipped?

Since this request came in, I have written one where they both have chronic pain and help each other through a bad day, so I did take some inspiration from that for this. So many people comment on the chronic pain ficlets/drabbles saying that it makes them feel so understood and it makes me feel so warm and happy to know that it gives you warm and happy feelings. This was a nice break from the first chapter of demon Steve, so thank you for sending this one in! - Mickala ❤

--------------------------------------------------

Eddie wanted to call Argyle, get the strongest strain of weed he had, and get so high he didn’t even feel human.

The pain he woke up with was almost as bad as when he first woke up in the hospital a few months prior, his bones aching and every breath sending sharp, piercing pains through his entire body.

He was used to dull aches when it rained, or being in a lot of pain when he stood up for too long or walked too far, but waking up like this was new.

Even worse, Steve wasn’t home.

He was already at work, a shift he picked up for Robin because her parents had insisted that she come with them to visit her aunt in Chicago.

Eddie could call him, but then he’d just feel bad about not being here to help.

He sucked it up long enough to call Wayne, who was at work, but no longer needed to be thanks to the government trying to keep them quiet with a large chunk of money.

As he waited for the secretary to get Wayne on the phone, he tried to take deep breaths like the physical therapist showed him. It didn’t work, but he was trying.

“Ed? You alright?” Wayne’s voice held so much concern, and Eddie was in so much pain, he started to tear up.

“It hurts,” he sobbed.

“You need me to call an ambulance, son?”

“No. Just hurts.”

He could hear Wayne say something to someone else, probably the secretary, then his voice was loud and clear in the phone.

“I’m on my way home. You call Steve yet?”

“No, he’s gotta work.”

“You know he’d wanna know anyway.”

“I know,” Eddie sighed. “I just don’t want him to worry.”

“He’ll be mad if ya don’t.”

“I know,” Eddie groaned. “I’ll call.”

“Smart. I’ll be home in 20.”

Eddie listened to the dial tone for a moment before hanging up.

He focused on the poster on the wall in front of him, said every color out loud as a distraction from the pain. He couldn’t call Steve if he was still ready to cry, he’d hear it in his voice and immediately try to come home even though he couldn’t just close the store.

Wayne was right though.

He picked the phone back up off the hook and dialed the number to Family Video.

It only rang twice before Steve’s voice answered.

“Thanks for calling Family Video. I’m currently watching Back to The Future. What do you wanna watch?”

“Back to The Future again? C’mon Stevie. You’re in a store full of movies,” Eddie said, somewhat breathlessly as he tried to breathe and talk through the sudden pulsing pain in his side.

“Eds? What’s wrong?”

“Just woke up in a lot of pain,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I can be home in 10 minutes, baby.”

“No, Stevie, it’s okay,” Eddie started to say, but Steve had already hung up.

“Fuck!” He yelled.

It felt good to do it, not just because of the situation, but because he needed a better outlet for the pain right now.

He closed his eyes and waited.

Steve was home faster than 10 minutes, which he would probably be upset about if Steve didn’t already look like he was panicking.

“Are you bleeding anywhere? Have you called 911? Did you take anything?” Steve’s hands were hovering over him in the bed, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he looked at Eddie’s curled up body.

“No, no, and no. I don’t need a hospital, just pain meds and maybe a bath.”

“But the pain is so bad you’ve been crying. That’s not normal!” Steve finally rested a hand on Eddie’s arm.

“Sweetheart, you’ve seen these scars. You know what the physical therapist said about pain. This is normal. It’s just the first time it’s been this bad,” he tried to calm Steve down, but couldn’t quite level his voice out to be convincing.

Just as Steve was starting on his next round of questions, the front door opened and Wayne called out that he stopped for some extra strength Tylenol.

Wayne came into the room and held the bag out towards Steve.

“I’ll go get a glass of water so you can take ‘em.”

Steve started opening the bottle and took out two pills, glanced at Eddie, then shook out a third.

“Gonna go start a bath, okay? Yell if you need me,” Steve said as he handed him the pills and kissed his forehead.

Eddie nodded.

Wayne brought him water, helped him sit up more so it was easier to take the pills and start working on getting up to go to the bathroom.

He didn’t like Wayne seeing him in pain, but he couldn’t help but let out a small whimper as he got shifted around.

“Alright, let’s get you to the bath.”

Wayne helped him walk, slowly, with a lot of pauses to gather himself and remember to breathe in and out.

Steve was waiting in the bathroom, ready to help him get undressed and slip into the hot bath filled with peppermint and eucalyptus oil.

Eddie tried to smile, give some comfort to the two people who were somehow more stressed about his pain than he was. He knew it probably wasn’t enough to soothe their worry, but Wayne at least gave him a small pat on the back and a smile as he left the room.

Steve wordlessly stripped his shirt and pants off, took his time and made sure to pause when Eddie gasped from moving too quickly.

He helped Eddie into the tub, slowly lowering him down until he was settled in the hot water and closing his eyes at the relief from the heat.

“Need anything?” Steve asked from the floor next to the tub.

Eddie rolled his head along the back of the tub, opening his eyes and smiling at Steve.

“Might need a snack soon, but for now, just sit with me?”

“Anything you want, Eds.”

Sometimes it scared Eddie how much Steve truly meant when he said anything.

He knew whatever he asked, whatever he needed or wanted, Steve would find a way to do it or die trying.

And it wasn’t just like that for Eddie.

Robin and the kids got the same from him, which just made Eddie love him even more.

Steve’s hand rested in the water, ready to add more hot water the moment it no longer felt hot enough.

They sat in silence, Eddie’s eyes closed as he tried to forget about the ache deep in his bones.

He startled when he heard Wayne asking Steve if he wanted him to make them all some lunch.

He looked over at Steve and nodded.

“Yeah, lunch would be great! I’m gonna get him out in a minute,” Steve said before sitting on the edge of the tub.”You ready to get out?”

“Mhm. Just gotta be slow,” Eddie said.

The bath had helped, but he knew better than to think the pain was gone. He knew when he started moving again it would probably get worse.

He took it easy on his way back to bed, towel wrapped around him, almost his entire body weight relying on Steve to get him there.

Between Steve and Wayne, he didn’t have a moment go by where he wasn’t getting cared for.

Steve even gave him a massage, found every spot that hurt and made it turn to jelly with little to no effort.

He fell asleep with the heating pad under his back, the noise from Wayne’s tv show coming from the living room, and Steve’s hand in his hair.

[ssa-jet]

Dredging Up the Past❤️‍🩹

a part two to Everyone’s Replaceable

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Black!Fem!Reader (FBI Agent), Reader x BAU

Relationship: passive-aggressive, a little hostile at first

Category: angst to semi-fluff

Summary: the sequel to Everyone’s Replaceable in which Y/N L/N is reunited with her former team members, the B.A.U., but not in the way you’d expect…

Content Warnings: hospital,cursing, mentions of crimes against children, implication of kidnapping— lmk if I missed anything<3

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It’s been seven months since my outburst at the B.A.U.. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t miss the chemistry that seemed to radiate off of my conversations with my former coworkers, but working away from them has been a refreshing experience.

After JJ turned in my resignation sticky note, Hotch immediately called me and asked me to explain the reason as to why I acted the way I did. Without a second thought, I listed off everything the doctors told me, even suggesting that I turn in a copy of my visitation logs to prove I wasn’t lying. I guess he believed me, because he allowed me to transfer into the Crimes Against Children Unit.

It’s still in Virginia, but a fresh start is a fresh start.

As I walk into the office building, my eyes trace over the text Katie sent me a little over an hour ago, insisting that I come into work on my day off to assist in a huge case that would require the attention of another unit. My shiny heels click across the floor as I approach a group of people standing around a case board. From the back, they look familiar, but once they turn around, my brain shuts down.

The B.A.U.

I almost want to kick myself for standing there and staring, mouth agape, looking like an idiot, but my brain can’t seem to string together any sentences to express how I feel right now— mainly because I don’t know what I feel.

Seven months is a long time to hang onto something, and, while I forgive them, I can’t forget what they did, How they made me feel. The only thing I remember feeling on my first day back at the office was unbridled rage.

I don’t even realize I’m still staring until Morgan clears his throat. “Hi, Y/N,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “I-I… what? How?” My mind races a mile a minute as I stutter out my response. “Why, Katie? Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?!” The distress and horror in my voice causes Katie’s brows to furrow in contemplation. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We were getting nowhere and I had to make the call.” “That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have told me!” I fire back, oblivious to the fact that my former colleagues are still present. “Y/N,” Katie says sternly. “Now’s not the time. Let’s save this conversation for another time, yeah?” “Fine.” I place my bag on the conference table and cross my arms.

“It’s nice to see you all again,” I lie, plastering a fake smile to my face. “It’s been, what, seven months, 3 weeks, and nineteen days?” JJ raises her eyebrows at me. “Hi, Y/N,” Emily says, going in for a handshake that I politely reciprocate, making a mental note to wash my hands as soon as possible. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d still be angry after all this time, but the urge to be petty is creeping up into my chest and making it impossible to stay polite. I shake hands with everyone except Spencer, and for once, I’m glad he’s a germaphobe— he’s been here an hour and I’m already sick of him.

The case seems to drag on— no new leads, clues, locations, or names. The downside to this is that it means spending more time with Spencer, whom I’m trying to build a geological profile with. “All of these girls are being found here,” I say, using a red marker to mark each of the locations the girls were found. “We have more than enough locations to build a geographical profile, and yet, we’ve come up with nothing.” The frustration leaks into my tone as I talk aloud. A geographical profile is always easier to build when you’re not-technically-an-ex ex boyfriend is looking over you. “That’s because the locations are too spread out to narrow it down without having too many variables,” Spencer’s smart-ass mouth replies. Every word that comes out of his mouth only makes me want to punch him, hard. “I know that, genius,” I scoff. “I’m just trying to help you,” he says, turning to look at me. “Like you did when I was in the hospital?” The retort slips out of my mouth before my brain can register what I said, and by the time it does, my heart is racing so fast I feel like I could pass out. Spencer’s jaw falls open just a little, allowing me to bask in the sudden glory that came from rendering the smart mouth speechless.

“How’s your girlfriend?” I ask, abandoning the case board to glare at him. “What’s her name? I’m thinking it was Y/N, since you couldn’t tell the fucking difference.” For the first time in seven months, I get a good, long look at Spencer. His hair is neatly gelled to the side so that a section is hanging in front of his eye, and he’s just as cleanly shaven as I remember him to be. His big, brown eyes lost their familiar spark after I ended up in the hospital— I only remember because my good friend Penelope told me all about it. Spencer’s slightly chapped, pink lips are sucked into his teeth as he struggles to form an answer to my statement. “What’s wrong?” I tease, bathing in the embarrassed look on his face. “All those words in your brain and you can’t figure out what to say to me?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

I almost laugh at how quiet his voice sounds. “Really?” I ask. “‘Cause that’s not what it looked like to me.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Spencer repeats.

“Whatever,” I scoff again. “Where is she, anyway?”

“She quit,” he mumbles.

Now that revelation causes me to laugh. “I’m happy for her,” I admit through giggles. “At least she managed to save herself.” Something inside of Spencer snaps, because his eyes darken and his expression turns cold. “God, you’re such a-a…” he stutters, clearly holding back his annoyance. The innocent, sweet boy I had left behind wouldn’t have dared to yell at me, so I’m intrigued as to what he has to say. “Such a what?” I taunt, a grin on my face. “A child,” Spencer snaps.

Oh.

I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t surprised that he actually insulted me. Luckily for me and unfortunately for him, his little comment fails to faze me. If anything, it eggs me on. “Now that’s more like it,” I tell him. “What else have you got, or is that it? Poor baby can’t even get a word out.”

What he says next isn’t at all what I expected to hear.

“Wanna know the real truth as to why I couldn’t see you?!” Spencer exclaims, chest heavily rising and falling with each angry inhale. “Sure,” I reply. “Other than to cheat.” “I didn’t cheat on you, Y/N! Would you stop saying that?!” “Just tell me why you didn’t come see me,” I say, ignoring his request. “I don’t have all fucking day.” “My mom’s schizophrenia worsened and none of the medications were helping!” My heart stops. If there’s one thing I always loved in the world, it was Diana Reid— the most light-hearted, kindest soul on the planet. Spencer doesn’t even wait for a response before he continued. “I had to fly back to Vegas to check on her, and it was so bad to the point where, even if you told her to, she wouldn’t remember to eat!” Something warm and foreign fills my eyes before I even get the chance to register what they are.

Tears.

A single one slips down my cheek at his confession, and as he continues, they don’t stop. “We tried every medication— everything— and it wasn’t working. Y/N, believe me when I say that I thought about you every day. I wouldn’t have left you on life support on purpose, I swear to God. I loved you so much, Y/N. More than you think.” Spencer’s knuckles are white from being balled up into angry fists that reside at his sides, and through my blurry tears, I can tell he’s crying, too. My body, like a magnet, finds itself tangled up in a confusing, comforting hug as we cry together in front of a case board with pictures full of scared children. It feels so unfamiliar and strange to be hugging the man who broke my heart, but I can’t bring myself to pull away, even if I wanted to. “I-I…” Fuck. Now it’s me who doesn’t know what to say. “God, Spencer, I’m so sorry, I… I don’t know, I just— fuck, I…I don’t know what to feel anymore.” And it’s true. Resentment for my ex boyfriend has been flushed out of my system and replaced by another weird feeling, one I can’t fully place a finger on. “It’s okay,” he shuffles, still clinging to me like a lanky koala. “I should’ve told you.”

“It’s your private business,” I tell him “You don’t have to tell anybody.”

“We had been dating for so long that you had a right to know,” he points out.

That’s the keyword— had. Now that the air has been cleared of leftover hatred, I genuinely don’t know how to feel about Spencer anymore. We’re just two broken people who managed to find each other again. “What about the rest of the team?” I ask as we separate, sniffling and wiping stray tears from our sticky cheeks. “I can’t speak for them,” Spencer replies. His words bestow a blanket of silence upon the conference room, leaving us staring at our shoes like little kids who’ve just been scolded.

“What happens now?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Spencer admits.

No words can fit the predicament I’ve found myself in. Part of me knows that I shouldn’t have to apologize for the rightful outburst I had months ago, but I can’t help but feel guilty that Spencer was harboring all this pain while we were dating, and he didn’t think to tell me.

“I could’ve helped” I finally say.

“How?”

“I don’t know! Emotional support, maybe?”

Spencer laughs dryly and sits down. “We, uh, we better get back to the geographical profile,” he says, motioning to the barely-touched map. “Right,” I confirm.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The case ended quicker than I wanted it to, although I’m sure I would’ve loved it that way if Spencer didn’t confess his secret to me. Katie gives the B.A.U. another round of handshakes, as do I, and one by one, they exit the building— all except Spencer. “So, uh, Y/N…” he trails off. “Yeah?” “C-Can we, y’know, like, talk sometime?” My heart stops at his question, but I manage to compile an, “Over coffee?” “S-Sure,” he stammers, handing me a folded piece of paper. “Here’s my number— I’m sure you deleted it after we… y’know…” He’s right, I did, but that’s not what makes my head spin. This feels exactly like when he first asked me out— from the coffee date to the folded piece of paper. “Next Thursday sound okay?” I ask, pocketing the note. “Yeah,” Spencer says. “It’s a date.” A warm blush creeps up his neck and the tiniest smile forms on his lips. I smile back and fidget with my fingers, my body refusing to move. “B-Bye,” he stammers, waving as he turns to leave. “Bye,” I respond, watching ad he walks off towards the SUVs. Katie grins and punches me in the arm. “Lovergirl.” “I don’t know about that,” I admit, allowing a laugh to escape my lips. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”