#plot? who?

[tickle-bugs]

Have you considered Bruce being super awkward and stiff when he's hanging out with Clark and Diana, pre relationship or early relationship or whatever, and Jason and Dick seeing that and immediately being like "nope. We're not having that. Dude needs to loosen up." And Bruce never sees it coming when they flank him and start going to town on his sides. And of course Clark and Diana are all "oh?? So he is human?? Interesting." And Bruce threatens to ground two grown men because he just knows his life is about to change. Clark and Diana are goblins. He's done.

continued: OKAY BUT Bruce in bed in between Diana and Clark and they're all that perfect state of sleepy loopy comfortable and warm. And Clark is rubbing these soothing circles over Bruce's stomach and chest and Bruce is just melting into the bed and Clark is all "who's your favorite partner" and Bruce doesn't hesitate to say Diana, just to mess with Clark. But of course it backfires on him because "Bruce, look at his face. How is he not your favorite?"

You KNOW how I feel about them FUCK anyways here's these two prompts smushed together because...Im love them.

This fic is a sequel to Smitten! You don't have to read it but it will enrich your experience :)

Baby, I Surrender

Bruce deals with bombshells professionally, both in and out of the cowl, but absolutely nothing could prepare him for the world of dating two superhumans at once.

He’d never been one for monogamy, and he was happy to let the tabloids chalk it up to whatever psychological buzzword they were abusing that month. It didn’t matter. The number of partners has never been his problem…it’s the dating part. He’s not soft. Kind words are never his instinct, touch has to be coaxed out of him--most people tire of trying to train affection into him by the first month or so.

Clark, for some reason, seems to like his awkwardness. When Bruce wants to backpedal out of emotional proximity, Clark’s there to box him in and sit in the vulnerability with him. He’s a tease in more ways than one, but mostly he’s sweet. Like, send Bruce a box of chocolates at work ‘just because’ sweet. Bruce is starting to settle into the reciprocation part--he sent a bouquet over to Clark’s earlier in the week and it only made him nauseous once. 

Diana had surprised them both. She and Bruce had been circling each other for a while, flirting for the fun of it at events. There’s always been something between them, he thinks, a soft and sacred thing at the center of an iron-clad friendship. She’s saved his life without breaking a sweat, but she’s also gone with him on those long, silent walks he needs to recall who he is. So when a friend--a woman like that drags your boyfriend over and asks the both of you to dinner…well, Bruce would’ve been a fool to say no. 

The three of them are still easing into the togetherness of this affair, still picking around the fragile parts with jittery trepidation. Bruce wanted desperately to avoid public attention, but he and Clark frequently cross paths for day job purposes as it is. Also, it would be…unbecoming of him to avoid Diana as one of the Smithsonian’s most generous donors. So, when the Smithsonian announced its ribbon-cutting gala for its new exhibition, Bruce decided that he was going to be brave and go with his partners. As a unit. 

Bruce descends the grand staircase to find Diana and Clark looking radiant as all hell. Diana slow-dances with Clark in a floor-length maroon gown that flatters both her strong shoulders and curves. Clark’s jacket is the same color as her dress and fitted perfectly to his body. Diana dips him and he laughs, holding onto her as she lifts him back up. 

There’s no music. Bruce’s heart couldn’t be more full. 

“You’re both…matching.” He pauses. They don’t stop swaying, but they both smile at him. 

“I think someone--” Diana gives Clark a playful look-- “May have overheard me trying to choose what to wear. He picked me up like this.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Clark clears his throat and adjusts his glasses, but his cheeks dust a faint pink. 

“You look…You both look…” Bruce runs a hand over his mouth to hide his fleeting smile. “I just threw this on, but now I’m sensing that I should change.” 

“You’ve trained him well, Clark. That was almost a full compliment.” Diana leans back into Clark’s shoulder, but her eyes never leave Bruce’s. 

“Can’t take credit for that.” Clark laughs, winding a lazy arm around her waist. She laces their fingers together. The overwhelming urge to kiss them both senseless is a welcome surprise. Bruce takes it in stride. 

Bruce does not run upstairs, as that would be undignified and embarrassing, but he does hurry. He changes into a sleek black tuxedo set and loses the tie--there’s no time to get Alfred to tie one now. He rustles through his pocket square collection until he finds a gorgeous maroon silk to fold into his breast pocket.

He bursts out of his room and nearly slams right into Jason and Dick. 

“Woah!” They manage to swerve out of the way at the last minute. Bruce blanches. Father and sons contend with each other for a moment while Bruce desperately tries to sink into the Earth. 

“You haven’t left yet?” Jason brightens with the beginning of a smirk. 

“You’re one to talk. The two of you were supposed to be on patrol an hour ago.” Bruce fiddles with his cufflinks. Dick tsks at him and goes to fasten them for him, but apparently the cufflinks aren’t up to his standard. He huffs, disappears into Bruce’s room, and reappears with a different set.

“You were in a different suit an hour ago.” Jason’s eyebrows raise. Bruce can hear the little hamster wheel that is his brain rattling as he regrettably connects the dots. Dick looks up from adjusting Bruce’s sleeves. He and Jason have an unintelligible conversation with their eyes alone. 

Bruce regrets adopting such intelligent orphans. 

“Oh my god. Bruce, did you change to match Clark?” Dick gasps. Jason snickers into his fist. 

“No.” Bruce clenches his jaw. “Yes.”

“You look fine.” Jason claps his shoulder. 

“You look good.” Dick fiddles with Bruce’s collar. Bruce swats his hands away. 

“Thank you. Patrol. Now.” Bruce gestures back the way they came. 

“Be safe,” Bruce calls after them. He waits until he hears them walk away and then waits a little longer before he dares to leave. He does hurry down the steps this time, but only because the chance of encountering more of his kids is spiking by the second. Also, because they’re late. 

“Sorry about that. Let’s get go--mmph.” Bruce gets swallowed into a kiss with Clark, deep and sweet. Bruce grips Clark’s biceps to remember which way is up. 

“This whole situation is going to be a problem for me.” Clark gestures at Bruce, breathless. Bruce tilts his head and lets his eyes roam Clark’s exquisite form.

“I’d hate to cause any problems for you, Mr. Kent.” Bruce walks his fingers up Clark’s chest and tugs at his tie. 

“I’m sure you would.” Clark clears his throat. Diana wraps her arms around Bruce from behind.

“You’ll save a little bit of this for us, won’t you?” She hums, trailing her fingers down the column of Bruce’s throat and down to the exposed part of his chest. He shivers.

“The night is still young. We’ll see what happens.” He kisses her over his shoulder, turning to lean into it fully. He memorizes the way her lipstick looks so he can daydream about her leaving smudges of it on his skin.

Bruce perks up at a creaking floorboard, one that only creaks when one of his children has gotten un-sneaky in their sneaking. He narrows his eyes at the balcony. Jason’s tuft of white hair is just barely visible behind a pillar. 

Bruce heaves a deep sigh.

“I know you’re up there,” Bruce calls. Dick and Jason both stumble out from their hiding space and immediately adjust themselves. Their descent down the stairs is anything but normal, but Bruce is proud of them for trying, at least.

“You didn’t tell us you were dating Wonder Woman too,” Dick hisses, eyes wide. Diana waves at him. He meekly waves back. 

“Nah, no way. This has to be a charity thing.” Jason whispers not-so-quietly. 

“Not a charity thing, Jason, though I appreciate your unwavering faith.” Bruce huffs, but something sour does curl inside him at the jab. He should be used to it, but he isn’t. Jason must see something in his face because he shuffles his weight.

“Didn’t know it was serious. Sorry.” 

“I don’t know what it is, but I like it. Ideally, they also like it. Don’t tell the others until I’m—we’re sure it’ll work.” Bruce runs a hand through his hair. 

“Good luck keeping something like this secret in this house. Between Cass living in the walls and Steph’s crush on you-know-who—“ Jason tilts his head towards Diana— “you’re toast.” 

“Also, I’m pretty sure they heard you,” Dick murmurs. Bruce hangs his head in defeat. He can hear his partners laughing softly at him, but he chooses to strategically ignore it. 

“Clark, Diana. These are two of my children, Dick and Jason.” Bruce puts a hand on both of their shoulders and gives a firm squeeze. 

“We’ve heard plenty of good things about you.” Diana beams. Jason gives her a firm handshake. Dick kisses her knuckles. Bruce can’t help but smile at how excited they are. 

It bodes well for whatever this is, between the three of them. 

“So have we.” Dick beams. 

“Really?” Clark glances at Bruce with the softest smile. Bruce bashfully rolls his eyes. 

“Well, no. We’ve been trying but he won’t tell us anything.” Dick nudges Bruce’s shoulder. 

“It means he cares.” Jason mock-whispers. 

“Alright, you’re done. Out. Go. Bye.” Bruce shoos them away with firm hands on their backs, but they resist. 

“C’mon, wait, let’s get a picture!” Dick fishes out his phone and holds it up like a white flag. Jason leans up against the wall, keen to observe. 

“The press will take plenty.” Bruce frowns. 

“Yeah, but I think Alfred would love one of the three of you, don’t you think?” Dick blinks, all innocence. Bruce glares daggers at him. 

“A picture sounds lovely.” Diana sweeps Clark and Bruce into either side of her. Clark and Bruce touch hands across the small of her back. 

“Bruce, smile. It’s not a funeral.” 

“I know how to smile, Jason.” Bruce rolls his eyes. 

“Would you like to prove it?” Jason gestures at him. Bruce grimaces for the picture. 

Of course, he’s had plenty of practice faking smiles for a camera. There’s something about this picture though, the implications of it, that scares the Brucie routine right out of him. Maybe because it matters. 

“This is stupid,” Bruce grumbles. 

“It’s sweet. It means they care,” Diana whispers teasingly, kissing his cheek. 

“That’s so cute! Hold that--okay, nope, we lost the smile.” Dick sighs and puts his hands on his hips. Jason leans over to him and they murmur back and forth for a while. Dick’s eyebrows go up in that way they do when he has an idea. 

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Bruce mutters to Clark. 

“I will not confirm, deny, or disclose it.” Clark grins mischievously. Something about the look in his eye is familiar, it sends Bruce’s stomach swooping in a strange way. 

Dick bounds up to Clark and bounces on his toes. His eyes are glittering with awe. 

“Mr. Kent--”

“Please, Clark is fine.” 

“Clark.” Dick bites his lip on a smile. Bruce makes a note to commend him for not squealing. “Would you hold this for a moment?”

“Of course.” Clark takes the offered cellphone. Dick leans up and whispers something in his ear, hiding his mouth behind his hands. Clark is suddenly aglow, grinning as if Christmas has come early. 

“What are you planning? What’s happening?” Bruce hisses, looking between the two of them. Clark shrugs dramatically. 

“Nothing, nothing. We’ve kept you waiting long enough. We’re gonna take one more photo, and it is what it is. If it’s terrible, Alfred can always grab one off the internet.” Dick waves nonchalantly, striding up to the three of them. Bruce narrows his eyes.

Dick fiddles with various elements of Bruce’s outfit, frowning deeply. He can’t seem to get things to lay the way he likes, which alights a deep spark of anxiety in Bruce’s gut. He knows he looks fine, but Dick doesn’t seem to think so—

“Jason, come help me fix this.” 

“My pleasure.” Oh, Jason is smiling. That’s--well, it’s lovely. Bruce doesn’t see it often anymore. But it’s also terrifying and an omen of chaos. Not lovely. 

Jason and Dick both duck under Bruce’s arms in unison and start tickling him. Betrayed by his own children. 

Bruce has fought off deadlier assassins blindfolded and with his hands bound behind his back, but the difference is that it’s frowned upon to punch his children. Which means, regrettably, he folds. 

“Hey!” Bruce manages to snatch one of Jason’s hands, but it leaves him open for Dick to squeeze his sides. Bruce’s laughter gets the better of him and he leans into Diana for protection. 

Diana gasps in sheer delight. 

“I didn’t know you were ticklish, Bruce! Did you know about this?” She tugs on Clark’s sleeve. He takes a few pictures of Bruce. 

“Yeah, I…found out pretty early. Figured I should let you stumble across it, lest Bruce suddenly ‘find’ that kryptonite spear he swears he got rid of.” Clark murmurs. Bruce gives him the finger, face burning. 

With some difficulty, Bruce manages to detach Jason and Dick from his person. They both grumble at being foiled, but they look like…they’re in trouble? Or expecting it, at least. It tugs painfully at Bruce’s spirit. 

He swallows the lecture he was going to give in favor of ruffling their hair aggressively. Dick laughs, Jason screeches indignantly, and Bruce figures that’s more than enough for now. 

“You look thoroughly debauched, we’re fashionably late, and I’ve just figured out what I’d like to do with the next three hours of my time. Minimum.” Diana smooths her hands over Bruce’s chest. 

“See, I liked the first part of that. How about we stay there?” Bruce hovers a hair’s breadth from her lips with a smirk. She closes the gap, pulling him close by the back of his neck. 

Evil fingers pinch his sides and Bruce squeaks into Diana’s mouth. 

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” Clark grins. Bruce scowls with no heat. Clark bestows a righteous apology kiss upon him, one that takes him out at the knees a bit. 

“I’m out.” Jason gags, trudging up the stairs. 

“It was nice meeting you both.” Dick winks, bounding after Jason. 

Bruce sighs fondly as they go. It’s Clark who holds his waist this time, leaning in to murmur in his ear. 

“Are we sure that we have to go?”

“If Vicki Vale is going to hunt me down for an exclusive anywhere, I’d rather it not be here. Again.” Bruce squeezes Clark’s hand. 

“It’d be a waste not to take these outfits for a spin.” Diana loops her arm through Bruce’s. He hums in approval and starts to walk them to the door.

“Maybe I can be convinced to make an early exit.” Bruce smirks at the way his partners stiffen beside him. 

…

They grace the gala for truly an hour at best—Diana and Clark have an express talent for winding each other up and Bruce is, in truth, a weak man. Their outfits spend more cumulative time on the bedroom floor than on their bodies. 

The moon lays a quiet blessing on the master bedroom once they’ve finished, bathing everything a cool silver. Bruce’s bed had always felt too big for sleep—he took any excuse he could to curl up on a couch or in the cave—but for them, it’s perfect. There’s no telling where one of them ends or begins, just limbs tangled in content fondness. 

“Who’s your favorite? Me or Diana?” Clark whispers teasingly. A chuckle rumbles low in Bruce’s chest.

“Diana.” Bruce cracks open one eye to drink in the glory of Clark’s offended face. Diana rewards him a hot, languid trail of kisses to the underside of his jaw.  

“Bruce, look at his face. How could he not be your favorite?” Diana tilts Bruce’s chin in Clark’s direction. 

“I thought you’d be flattered.” Bruce huffs. “Fine, Clark’s my favorite.”

“Bruce. C’mon.” Clark adds another love bite to the growing collection on his collarbone. “Just look at Diana.” 

“I am getting very mixed signals here,” Bruce gasps softly, clenching his fingers in the sheets. Clark’s kisses grow light and insistent. 

“Clark.” Bruce fights tooth and nail against the smile trying to fight its way onto his face. Goosebumps flare across his chest. Clark nibbles a little and Bruce twitches. 

“Yes?” He blinks innocently. 

“Don’t ruin this.” Bruce squishes his cheeks threateningly. Clark dives to nuzzle Bruce’s neck, scooping him up into his arms. Tired and shmoopy, Bruce giggles and reaches for Diana. She props herself up on her elbow, amused, and gives him her hand. 

“What?” Bruce snickers, flinching away from Clark’s deadly lips. 

“Just taking all this in. I’m meeting this version of you for the first time.” Diana hums. 

“I think Giggly Bruce is my favorite.” Clark peppers more kisses, the endless fount of affection that he is. 

“That’s not—there’s no—stoppit—“ Bruce curls in on himself. Clark wiggles his fingers into Bruce’s stomach and chases his blushing neck with his lips. 

“I agree, Kal.” The name catches beautifully on Diana’s tongue. Evidently, Clark seems to agree—he peeks over Bruce’s shoulder with a radiant smile. 

“Can I convince you two to at least try and sleep?” Bruce huffs, scratchy and fond. Diana hums and slides closer, tucking herself into Bruce’s chest. He skims his fingers across her back in gentle patterns. 

Quiet blooms in the room as their breathing starts to sync. The weight of Clark’s arm is as much a comfort as Diana’s breath against his skin. Bruce thinks, distantly, that he might like to fall asleep like this every night. 

“Di, c’mon—“ Clark snickers, then giggles. 

“You’re both terrible at this.” Bruce turns over to squint at Clark. Clark can’t even look at him—his entire being is scrunched in restrained laughter as he slaps Diana’s tickling hand away from his hip.

Bruce slowly turns to the other menace in his bed. Diana just shrugs. 

Bruce flops back down on the bed and actually manages to doze off, lured into floating sleep by the gentle rumble of Clark’s chest. This means he’s completely blindsided when the morning renews his partners’ unending playfulness, but safe arms to sleep in are well worth the sacrifice. 

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

You're just not toxic enough.

[tediousmalcontentt]

my favorite scene in all of literature is when Neil Josten wakes up in Columbia after being drugged, hurls an alarm clock at Aaron, dumps his water on the floor and throws the cup at Aaron, stuff his clothes down the toilet and squeezes out through the window, has the foresight to call Matt from a pay phone to protect his shit, hitch hikes back to campus, eyes back to brown?? shows up on Wymack’s door like 😜 and reveals he could speak German the whole time?? CHARACTER OF ALL TIME, that is a protagonist who knows how MOVE THE MFING PLOT ALONG

[adobe-outdesign]

Entire Pokemon fanbase upon watching the Z-A trailer: wow I can't believe they added anti-homeless bars to the benches in Pokemon

GameFreak dev who thought those were arm rests:

[waywardblackkitty]

Misha's character introduction on The Boys be like :

[purpleangiie]

Damian: "Grayson, what are you staring at?"

Dick: "Sh!"

Tim: "Leave him be, D. He's emotional."

Damian: "Over what?"

Dick, staring at the two quiet figures in front of them: "Would you believe that? Jason and Bruce existing in the same space and not throwing a tantrum, but actually behaving like two adults? They're even working together at the same desk. Unbelievable."

Damian: "Wait, has father just ruffled Todd's hair?"

Dick: "And he didn’t even punched him back! I'm so proud of how far they both have come. *sniff* Now we could all be one happy family."

Damiam: *looking absolutely bewildered, gazing up at Tim who just shrugs*

Tim: "Give them 15 minutes."

Damian: "12."

---

Jason: "Bruce. Bruce WHERE IS MY PEN?"

Bruce: "Y-your pen, Jason?"

Jason: "Oh my god. You don't even remember it. My pen, Bruce. My personalized red and golden Montblanc you gifted me for my 14th birthday. I left it here, where is it? You threw it away, didn't you? LIKE YOU DID WITH ANY REGARD YOU EVER HAD FOR ME AND MY FEELINGS? DID YOU FORGET I WAS YOUR SON TOO? WHY IS IT SO HARD FOR YOU TO LOVE ME?"

Dick: "Damn! We got so close."

Tim: "And that'd be 10 minutes and 35 seconds."

Damian: "-TT- Pay up, Drake."

[ciearcab]

happy late birthday to this guy

[dear-ao3]

pov your ex held your collection of thrifted spoons hostage for over a year (not entirely his fault, they got mixed up in his things during a move and you did not realize it, though he did adamantly deny that he had them) and reached out to your roommate on instagram nine months post break up after being thoroughly blocked for several months just to ask if you were still roommates and then to very cryptically reveal that he had in fact found the spoons (among other, mystery items that he did not reveal and you also have no idea what they are) in his car that he had not driven for a year cause he decided to make the worst financial decision of his life and buy a tesla and then tried to coordinate a meet up to drop off said spoons and mystery items which you did not want but you do want your spoons so you told him to either mail it or show up to your place of work when you were not scheduled only for him to entirely miss the point and still try to see you, then you reveal that you do not want to see him so he finally says that he will put on his big boy pants and mail it (though him actually mailing it is entirely unlikely) and also aparently hes gotten a perm since the last time you saw him and it looks terrible

[egophiliac]

So.... what are your thoughts on Ace's UM, if you haven't been asked this already?

sneaky magic for the sneakiest boy

no but really, I think it fits him really well! I had thought his UM would probably involve something kinda sleight-of-handy or pickpockety! and I looooved that it made such a nice loop-around back to episode 1. ❤️ I was. kind of half-expecting him to just run out and punch Riddle in the nose again. but instead this time 'twas he who offed the queen's head! it was great! and he did it while stone-cold terrified out of his mind! because Ace is the only remotely normal or well-adjusted person at NRC and therefore the only one who is like "we're going to literally die, this is super effed up". but he did it anyway!!!! I AM SO PROUD

[bamsara]

I think that one thing people fail to understand is that unsolicited literary criticism coming from an online stranger who is reading with no knowledge of what the authors intended goal is, is not going to be received the same as say: the authors beta reader or friends who know what the authors intended goal and has the sufficient knowledge and input to help the author reach that desired outcome.

"But I'm only trying to be helpful" How do I know you have the knowledge and literary skill for you to be able to actaully do that when we don't know each other and you are essentially a stranger to me? Are you applying this criticism based out of personal biased experience and desire to see the story or characterization be driven in another direction or tweaked, or do you know the author's intentions for the character? If the story is incomplete, are you basing your criticism of a character on the incomplete narration with only partial information available of them or are you building up a report until the story's completion? Did the author provide you with the information needed to make a fully informed criticism?

Have you discussed with the author what their plans are or are you assuming them based off the narration, especially if the narration is proven or implied to be unreliable or missing key points of the plot? Are you unbiased enough to help them reach their desired outcome for the characters and story regardless of your personal feelings towards the characters/antagonists and setting? Can you handle being told your specific input isn't wanted because you're a reader and/or have no written anything relating to their genre or topic? Do you understand and respect that the author's personal experiences might influence their writing and make it different than how you would have done it personally? Do you understand if an author only wants input from a specific demographic relating to their story?

If it's for fanfiction or other hobby media, are you holding a free hobby to a professional standard? Are you trying to give criticism because you feel like the author has produced 'subpar job performance' of their fic? Are you viewing their work as a personal intimate outlet or something that must conform with mass media? Are you applying rules and guidelines when the fic is shared for simple sharing sake? Is your criticism worded appropriately and focused on the parts where the author has requested input on rather than a general dismissal and or disapproval?

Have you put yourself in a place where you assumed you have the input needed for the story to evolve better, or have you asked what the author needs and what they're having trouble with? Can you handle having your criticism rejected if the author decides their story doesn't need the change and not take it as a personal offense against your character? Are you crossing that boundary because you think you are doing the author a favor? Are you trying to be helpful, or do you just want to be?

I think sometimes when people hear authors go 'please don't give me unsolicited writing advice or criticism' they automatically chalk it up to 'this author doesn't want ANY constructive feedback on their stuff at all' and not "i already have trusted individuals who will help me with my writing goals and- hey i don't know you like that, please stop acting so overly familiar with me'

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

What they don’t tell you is that if you get good enough at doctor who tumblr you don’t even need to go looking through the tardis wiki, your mutuals will just know that shit

[sad-littletalker]

If Bruce is covering as Nightwing right now, who's acting as Batman in Gotham?

Tim: ok so any takers for the cowl?

*everyone looks at Jason as he is the second oldest*

Jason: oh no way. Absolutely not. Tim?

Tim: after evil gun Batman? ha. Nope. Plus DC doesn't pay much attention to me to make a good story about that.

Damian: may I-

Everyone: no.

Stephanie: OH I COULD BE PURPLE BATMAN!

Cassandra: I want to be Batman if Steph is my Robin

*everyone considers it*

Tim: that... isn't a bad idea actually. I like it.

[finifugue]

Imagine being Jack Harkness, seeing the Doctor flirt and fall in love with a brown-haired, blue-eyed, cocky, sardonic american man from the future in period dress only in it for the money with a cool ship and a tragic backstory who risks his life to save his blonde female friend and gets left behind to die and being like. dude.

[dreamsteddie]

Steve and Eddie who kind of flop in life and end up poor, living in a trailer in a different small town living quiet lives of no import.

The kids, Robin, Nancy, and Johnathan all seem to take the small handful of opportunities offered to them by the government in the aftermath of the Upsidedown to take off and make something of their lives. They're off writing headlines, making news, and living their lives to the best of their abilities, but Steve and Eddie find themselves stuck.

Steve stayed in Hawkins until the kids graduated and left for college. By then Nancy, Johnathan, and Robin are all in their second or third years of college. John and Nancy have their own apartment in New York together and don't reach out all that often, only seeing the rest of the Hawkins crew on Holidays and some vacations. Robin is flourishing at an all-women's college in Maine and has a partner and a cat and plans for graduate school brewing. She's always saying Steve can come out and join her whenever he's ready, but when the time comes it feels like he would just be trying to insert himself in the middle of a life he doesn't know how to fit into, so he turns to Eddie instead.

Eddie is permanently disabled in a number of ways following the events of season four. He struggles with chronic pain, has breathing issues due to the loss of part of his right lung, and lost enough muscle mass in his left leg that walking will never be easy or done without the use of a walker or arm bar crutches. The doctors said he recovered as well as he could have. The kids said he would get better with time. Wayne said it didn't matter if he never got better, he could do anything he set his mind to.

Steve is the only person who tells him the truth.

Steve tells him that it sucks. Tells him that it will probably always hurt. Doesn't give him false hope when he's trying to grieve the loss of the life he wanted to live. The goals he wanted to reach. When he falls deeper and deeper into himself, stuck in the muck of depression, Steve is the only person he lets in. The kids try their best but their lives are moving fast, and taking care of someone like Eddie is exhausting, no matter what they try to say. Eventually, everyone but Dustin gives up on reaching out, the younger boy showing up every Sunday to try and get Eddie out of the house. He always leaves disappointed.

When Steve asks him if he wants to use what's left of their partly government payouts and Steve's equally meager Family Video savings to buy a truly shitty trailer in a town an hour and a half south of Hawkins in the fall of 1990, it feels like the first boon he's been given in almost five years. He'll never be who he could have been if he had ignored Chrissy that day in 86', but he's always thought maybe he could be more than a ghost between Wayne's walls if he could just get out of this god-forsaken town full of people who know too much and too little of what's happened to him.

They get the trailer, pack what little they have, let Wayne hug them close, and leave.

Steve has already transferred to their new town's Family Video, moving up to claim the dubious honor of being the opening manager. Mostly he just unlocks the door, signs into the computer, and makes sure nothing catches fire. Eddie hoped that moving would miraculously make him fit to enter back into the world, but he spends most of his days with a blanket on the front porch, watching people pass by. He does, though, finally accept that he needs to apply for disability to help Steve keep the lights on and the water hot. That last little bit of hope that he could be what he used to be dies, but he's learning to be content with what he does have. He starts taking a walk, just ten minutes around the loop of the trailer park saying hi and trading polite nods with his fellow residents. He's not ok, but he's starting to build a new community of people not too different from himself.

The new trailer only has one bedroom. Eddie sleeps on a fold-out mattress in the living room. It had been a major argument when they first moved in with Steve insisting that Eddie needed the bed. Eddie argued that it wasn't fair for him to take the room when Steve was the one working 40 hours a week to keep them afloat. In the end, Eddie was the more stubborn of the two. It helps that Eddie has absolutely no qualms about crawling into bed with Steve on the nights when the couch bed really won't cut it for his aching body. Steve never questions it, just shuffles over a little and lets the other man in.

Steve doesn't question a lot of stuff.

He doesn't question when all their effects are shared between them with no effort to distinguish between yours and mine, Eddie's and Steve's. He doesn't question it four months in when Eddie starts to get his feet under him and decides to take up cooking, always trying his best to have everything done just as Steve walks through the door. He doesn't question when a good chunk of Eddie's first disability check goes to buying Steve a sturdy, if not very fashionable, new watch for his birthday since his old one went bust almost a year ago.

He doesn't question it when Eddie holds his hand for the first time under the stars hanging above their front porch.

He doesn't question it when Eddie introduces him to one of his new neighbor friends with a hand resting comfortably on his lower back

He doesn't question it when Eddie starts sleeping in the bedroom every night.

Or makes him box mix cupcakes for Valentine's Day.

Or kisses him for the first time on the couch that's never a bed unless they want to spend the day binge-watching bargain bin films.

Because really, isn't this how it was always going to go? Wasn't this exactly what Steve was asking for when he asked Eddie to skip town with him?

Isn't this what Eddie was hoping for when he said yes?

[aashidoodles]