#sleep together when they were both super trashed

[domithanasia]

remembering in 2022 when i was in my goldfinch phase big time and i would have completely one sided beef with those 13 year olds on tiktok who only watched the movie because finn wolfhard was in it and did nothing but make #boreo edits and talk about how tragic teenage unrequited yaoi they were while completely ignoring every other character and theme in the book

[aealzx]

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Prologue Next

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“We’ve secured the suspected meta.”

“Copy that. Red Hood, do you have eyes on the last of them?”

“Not yet, but I’m pretty sure she’s in this apartment.”

Several months ago a group of unpredictable rogues had popped up in Gotham. Nothing unusual for the city, other than they appeared to be a group of teenagers who were both criminals and heroes. Stolen goods of various types ranging from common camping supplies, food, and clothing, to an odd assortment of medical supplies and technology. Assaulted police, other heroes and vigilantes given the slip. And yet there were also many criminals dealt with that hero teams couldn’t account for who was responsible. The main lead they had gotten was the suspected meta human. A girl with white hair that could fly, phase through walls, and various other super human feats. She had been the first lead they could latch onto, and from there they had built profiles on the other three. The oldest girl appeared to be in her late teens, another girl just a few years younger, a boy the same age as the second girl, and then the metahuman, younger than all of them. They had been more of a curiosity than a serious threat. Until they had stolen something from the wrong people and painted a target on their heads. Now they were in a cross between a rescue and capture mission as the team only known as The Phantoms were being raided by pissed off crooks.

The three youngest had already been caught by the rest of the team sent by Batman, it was only the eldest girl that remained. And unless Tim could pull off a miracle Jason only had ten minutes to find her before the planted bomb destroyed the building they’d been hiding in.

With Barbara’s help he and a few of the others had searched the entire apartment building, checking each room for the remaining Phantom and placing eyes where they’d been to make sure she didn’t give them the slip and run to somewhere they’d already been. Jason had just slammed through the front door of one more apartment when he’d answered Barbara’s question, a scattering of food wrappers in a trash pile, a small cook top, sleeping areas, and other items for basic needs betraying recent habitation. It was a good hint that this was where the Phantoms had stationed, especially with the scrabbled together computer workstation setup off to one side.

There were only three other doors in the apartment, and Jason moved to the first one quickly. A closet near the front door. Empty. A bathroom across from the front room. Also empty. Which meant the last room, the bedroom, had to be where she was, if she was there.

Jason flung the door open and promptly caught the crowbar that was swung at his face, accompanied by a near frantic screech from the girl he’d been looking for

“Got her,” Jason announced to the comms, deftly yanking the crowbar out of the girl’s hands and tossing it to the side. “Begin evacuation, I’ll be out in - ….. Shit.”

As Jason spoke to Barbara and the rest of the team he decidedly ignored the girl’s demands for him to get out, having to block a fist thrown his way. He’d noticed she was obviously distressed, tears marking her dirty cheeks and a fierce glare directed his way. It wasn’t unexpected considering she was the last of her team they didn’t have in custody; she must have felt any myriad of emotions ranging from despair at failing to fear that they would hurt her. Yet Jason quickly noticed something that made him cuss mid report, and realize the girl's actions weren’t out of defiance, but protectiveness.

“There’s five of them,” Jason reported, finger pressing to his comm and eyes locked onto the new figure that hadn’t been part of any of their intel. And for a good reason. The lad was unconscious on a cot, one of the stolen items in the team’s list, and he didn’t look good. If it weren’t for the shallow, shuddering breaths from him Jason would have thought he were already dead, his skin ghastly pale other than fever flushed cheeks. “There’s another boy, heavily injured. I’m bringing them both out, have someone standing by.”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Of course the girl heard his report, and renewed her efforts to fight Jason, blocking him from reaching the fifth member. They didn’t have time to converse gently though, and so Jason grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. “Listen! I’m not going to hurt you, I’m trying to rescue you. There’s a bomb! We have to get out of the building, and get him to a hospital.”

The girl was smart. Or at least not dumb enough to ignore Jason’s words completely, for she froze the moment he mentioned the bomb. “...What?” she asked, wide eyes locking onto him, daring him to trick her.

“Look, you guys trying to steal Lazarus water pissed off the wrong people. They planted a bomb, and my team and I are here to rescue you. We can talk about your crime runs later, alright?” Jason explained a little more, really not wanting to have to knock the girl out too just to get the two to a safe area if he could help it.

The way the girl’s eyes opened, a horrified gasp escaping her, told Jason she wasn’t a bad person. Or at least reinforced what their actions aside from theft had suggested. That was the reaction of someone who realized they’d made a mistake, and felt the weight bearing down from the mess that had been caused because of it. She stopped trying to fight Jason now, pulling away and rushing to the 5th member’s side, grabbing his limp arm and hooking it around her own shoulders to try and lift him up.

“Is he safe to move?” Jason asked, stepping forward to help. Even though the lad looked fairly small, he was still too heavy for the girl judging by how she was struggling to even get him upright. “His spine isn’t hurt? No broken bones?” he asked to clarify when the girl looked at him with a question half voiced.

“No. Nothing broken, just the-” she confirmed, cutting off when Jason reached forward and effortlessly scooped the frail teen up.

“Hold onto my back. We’re going that way,” Jason directed, ignoring the way she tensed, holding herself back from demanding he not touch her friend, and nodding towards the window.

“WhAT?” the girl sputtered, hands jerking as she internally wrestled with being obedient to him or her own sense of self preservation.

“We’re out of time. Just grab on,” Jason half snapped, roughly kicking the window to shatter the glass, twisting his frame to shield the lad in his arms as well, just in case. “One minute,” he added, repeating what Barbara announced in his comms to reinforce his directions.

It was enough. Pursing her lips and giving a soft whimper the girl rushed forward to throw her arms around his shoulders from behind, clinging to him with a death grip. Jason wished he had a better way to carry both of them, but he hadn’t been expecting there to be two of them in the first place. So he could only hope the girl’s grip was strong enough to hang on as he shot a zip line towards where the others were gathered. After getting the other end secured to the building they were in, Jason latched the clip on the rope and swung over the fire escape, curling his legs up to make sure the lad he was carrying had plenty of support. He could hear a muffled, drawn out squeak from the girl on his back, but didn’t comment.

“Wh- Ja- DANNY! LET HIM GO YOU-” the mid teenage girl caught sight of them first, snarling and trashing against her restraints when she saw who Jason had. Cass refused to let her go though, pulling her back to kneeling and considering pushing her down further if necessary. She didn’t get to finish her protests though.

“HEADS DOWN!” Dick shouted after Barbara announced a second to detonation, and those who had capes were throwing them over their targets and each other, hunching over to bodily protect them from the cascades of blasts ripping through the apartment building the Phantoms had been stationed in. They were far enough away that they shouldn’t get hurt from the collapsing rubble, but there was still the possibility of smaller debris getting thrown at them. So they remained huddled on the ground a safe distance away until the rubble settled, and only when it stopped shifting did they stand again.

“Oracle, status on the inbound units?” Dick was the first to speak, the others giving sighs of relief and partially relaxing.

The two middle teenage children had quieted significantly after the explosion, the boy looking at the rubble in shock as he realized they would have been caught in it if it weren't for the group of vigilantes that had captured them. And the girl held a similar period of stunned silence before she started kicking at Cass again. “Get off me! Get your filthy hands off Danny!”

“Sam, it’s okay.” The eldest girl spoke with a shaking voice, slipping off Jason’s back and leaning her head against him in a moment of despair. Cass’s hand froze where it had been about to knock out chop her feisty captive, blinking and looking up instead. So the middle teen’s name was Sam? And the unconscious lad was Danny?

“The meta is waking up. Should I dose her again?” That was Damian, keeping an eye on the youngest Phantom. She was starting to stir, but the eldest Phantom spoke up before the others could.

“Don’t. Please. They’ve been through enough. Just please bring her over here, I’ll manage her,” the eldest girl directed. Her voice was still shaking, but it had steadied somewhat after Jason had turned slightly while remaining crouched to allow her to sit next to their 5th member, her hand resting on his cheek as she was gathering the breaking pieces of her determination.

Stephanie and Cass only exchanged looks with each other, and also Dick and Tim, before Jason spoke up. “Just bring her over. She might be more docile when she’s near this one.”

They didn’t seem completely convinced, but Stephanie at least complied, moving to crouch on one knee with the youngest girl while Damian hovered nearby with another dose of sedatives.

“You’re doing the right thing kid. When the cops get here with the paramedics they’ll get Danny taken care of. You don’t have to worry,” Jason encouraged the eldest girl, grateful that she was getting her team to behave.

“They can’t take him,” she rejected, catching the rest off guard.

“What? Look if it’s about money don’t worry, it’ll be taken care of,” Jason insisted, hoping it wasn’t because of a different possibility he was quickly starting to consider. He’d thought it was just his imagination, but Danny was unusually cold to the touch. Almost like ice. There was another common reason he knew people avoided hospitals despite being this injured.

The eldest girl shook her head again. “It’s not that it’s….” she paused, seeming both reluctant to tell them but also not sure how to tell them what was going on. She wasn’t even sure what was wrong. But when the youngest teen groaned and started to shift the eldest looked at her and found her answer. “Danny is like Danielle. Doctors can’t help them. They’re too different.”

That’s what Jason thought, but it didn’t mean he wanted to hear it, and it earned an understanding but frustrated groan from him and some of the others. “Shit. Alright,“ Dick took charge of the situation, hissing slightly and reaching to his own comms. “Oracle, where’s the nearest safe house? The 5th member is another potential meta, unconscious, and heavy bandaging over the whole torso. Can you contact home and have Penny-one or The Doctor on standby?”

As Dick took care of directing the team, Jason took care of keeping their tentative ally willing to listen to them. “We might have some contacts that can help. We have friends that also need more attention that the regular doctor can give them. Do you kids have names we can use?”

It was more of a lead than they’d had since they’d gotten stranded there, so the eldest teen seemed hesitant but hopeful to grab onto it. After a moment of thinking, her other hand reaching out to Danielle as she started to blink her eyes open, she responded. “My name is Jazz. This is my little brother Danny, my little sister Dani with an I, and our friends Sam and Tucker.”

“... Your parents gave your little siblings the same name?” Jason couldn’t help asking after hearing the relationships. That also explained a lot about why Jazz had been so frantically protective of Danny, aside from her being the oldest of the group.

“It’s… a long story,” Jazz admitted, grimacing a little. “Danielle… was unexpected.”

Looked like Jazz didn’t quite trust them enough. That was fine, they didn’t need a whole backstory right off. Oracle could probably figure it out easily now that she had names and relations. “Fair enough,” Jason dismissed with a grunt, ending his conversation as Dick approached them.

“Hey. There’s a whole mess of stuff going on, I know, but right now we’re going to focus on making sure everyone is taken care of, and then we can figure out the rest of the mess later, okay?” Dick started, leaning low with his hands on his knees and speaking gently. “The police and paramedics can take care of the criminals that were hunting you, but since he’s a special case we’re going to move to a different location where we’ll give everyone a check up. Sound good?”

Jazz didn’t jump at the offer, but they could see she saw promise in it, and hesitantly nodded. “My friends and I stay together at all times. Got it?” she demanded.

“Sure,” Dick agreed, not seeing any issue with that. “But we’ll keep the restraints on if necessary, alright? You all still have charges of assault after all.”

It was easy to see Jazz’s expression fall significantly at the reminder, as though her soul had been slightly crushed. “Yeah… okay,” she agreed, swallowing some nausea that had churned her stomach at being reminded they were criminals. Then, before Danielle could fuss too much, Jazz turned to rest a hand on the small girl’s arm. “Dani, these guys have agreed to help us. So behave and don’t pick any fights unless I say otherwise, alright?”

The fist that Danielle had prepared to punch her holder didn’t move, and after a moment Danielle groaned in reluctant relent. “Guhhhh can I at least punch the guy who drugged me? I feel awful.”

The comment earned a weak chuckle from Jazz, and she patted Danielle’s arm. “I’ll think about it. Just rest for now. We’re moving to a safe place.” She hoped she wasn’t lying to Danielle, and that these people would actually, finally give them the help they needed.

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I guess I go here now =v=;;;

Partially inspired by this post. But not including everything because there's a lot of stuff I don't understand. |D This just got stuck in my head so hard I couldn't work on anything else.

[lesservillain]

best friend!eddie x reader

cw: SMUT, unprotected piv, pregnancy scare, one sided feelings, sort of sad at the end? an: the prequel to baby daddy!eddie but could be read as a stand alone if you wanted wc: 3.4k

A few years ago…

Music played on the stereo in Gareth’s garage, filling the house through the cracked door that connected to the house. The host himself was passed out on his living room couch, the rest of the boys laughing at him for falling asleep. The only ones left at the party were Jeff, Grant, Eddie and you, the few other guests who came to celebrate their graduations left not long ago.

You rolled your eyes as they placed Gareth’s hand in a bowl of water, a prank that one of them heard would make someone piss themselves in their sleep. Instead of taking part in their stupid prank, you chose to help out with cleaning up. Empty beer cans and other snack bags started filling up the trashcan as you made your way around the kitchen.

“What are you in here doing, sweetheart?”

You turn to see Eddie leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, watching you as you pick up more trash.

“Trying to be helpful,” you say, shoving as much trash into the can as you possibly can. Eddie laughs, pushing off from the frame to walk over to you. He grabs the bag from the can and proceeds to tie it. You smile up at him. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he says after a moment of looking at you. You get an overwhelming feeling of domesticity as you watch Eddie take the bag out the back door. You watch him through the window as he places the bag in the can. Lighting up a cigarette, he waves at you from the cans, and you feel your cheeks grow hot from being caught staring. 

Eddie was your best friend. Has been since he moved to Hawkins back in 4th grade. The two of you met after you spent the summer in the trailer park where his uncle and your grandma both live in. You rolled with most of the kids there, but Eddie was like a new toy to you. 

He was hard to get out of his shell at first, mostly due to traumas you weren’t aware of at the time. In retrospect, you really pushed him hard, ever persistent in your daily trips to Wayne’s trailer to get him to come out. But when he finally did agree to play with you, the two of you became immediately inseparable. 

Everyone always joked about the two of you spending so much time together, laughing at the grossed out reactions the two of you would have at the mention of the two of you getting married one day. If your grandma was still alive, she would probably be distraught knowing that you had a massive crush on anyone other than Eddie.

After replacing the trash bag, you decide to join Eddie outside. The cool air feels amazing on your skin. The boys don’t have a lot of friends outside of each other, but when all of them start drinking and playing games they seem to generate a lot of heat in such a small space.

“Want one?” Eddie asks as you approach, smoke billowing from between his lips. You nod and he pulls out his pack. 

“Did you have fun?” You ask as he lights the cigarette for you, your hands brushing as he hands it over. The feeling of your skin touching felt like electricity through your hand.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, taking a drag. “I mean, I think it could have been just the two of us and I would have been happy. I’m just glad to finally not have to go back to that hell hole.”

“I’m happy for you, too,” you smile, taking a step closer to him. “Eddie, you honestly have no idea how proud I am of you. Like, I want to shout from the roof tops that Eddie fucking Munson graduated!”

Eddie giggles at your praise, swaying a bit where he stands from the amount of alcohol he’s consumed tonight. He stretches an arm out and you oblige, accepting his tight embrace. He smells like alcohol, weed, sweat, and notes of cheap cologne that he sprayed on earlier in the evening. It was a bit intoxicating in your current state. 

Drinking either made you super friendy or super horny, and tonight you were heading towards the latter. 

You would never admit it, but you’d been watching Eddie all night. There was an air about him tonight. Call it confidence or call it something else, but it was something you’d never seen in him before. It’s like he’s gotten a new found sense of life knowing that he was finally free to do whatever he wants in life. There was nothing left to tie him down and he knew it.

And, maybe unfortunately, it was doing something for you. You’d never really thought about Eddie like that before, your long time crush on Steve clouding your mind when it came to paying attention to anyone else. But something has…changed.

And after a shot or two that you took with a few of his friends from theater class (those kids are wild), everything he did just seemed to be doing something for you. You almost fell over when he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his stomach that you’ve seen a thousand times on on display looking extra lean and just…

“Hey, are you okay?”

You instantly went from feeling good to being super aware of the way Eddie’s body was touching you. With the way he was holding you, his hand rested just above your chest, almost resting on your breast. The veins in is hand seemed more prominent, the rings on his fingers suiting his hands well.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, letting go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. When he doesn’t say anything, you slowly turn to look at him. Which was a mistake, because the way he was staring at you took your breath away again. His big brown eyes stared into yours, lidded in a way that made you want to squirm.

“Eddie? Are you good?”

He doesn’t respond, only blinks. His gaze shifts, flickering back and forth between your lips and your eyes and you feel your stomach flip. 

This isn’t how best friends look at each other. Friends don't caress your cheek like he does. They don’t pull you in, making your fronts flush with each other. They don’t start to block out the light from the moon as they lean in. Their lips don’t meet yours, and you aren’t supposed to accept it, kissing them back.

But, before you know it, your kiss turns into kisses. Feverish and hungry, tongues dancing in sync like lovers do. You’re not lovers, but you feel that line blurring as your body is being pulled away. 

The two of you don’t disconnect until you suddenly stop. Eddie is the first to break off the kiss, reaching behind him to open the doors of his van where he pulls you in. You don’t protest, gladly jumping in and pushing him down so that he lays under you. You can tell by the look on his face he wasn’t expecting it. His eyes watch you as you pull the van doors closed.

Once they click together, everything happens quickly. Rushed touches and clothes flying in every direction, the two of you melt into each other.

Your perched in his lap, breasts are pressed into him with arms wrapped around his neck as you almost eat him alive. His hands rub down the expanse of your back until they land on your ass, palming you underneath your panties as you grind down against him.

Eddie is painfully hard under you. For the brief moment that you looked down at him, you were shocked at the size of the tent in his boxers. It was the one thing about him that you didn’t know anything about after all these years. It sent waves to your core that only made you feel things for him you’d never felt before.

In an attempt to speed things up, you let your hand trail down his chest, his stomach, and down past the hem of his boxers. Your brows shot up when you gripped him, his true size in your hand taking you by surprise.

“Mmmm, shit,” he moans under you, and your breath hitches. You watch him carefully as his face contorts in a way that you’ve never seen; a new side of Eddie that you feel privileged to witness.

And then his his hand is on your head, guiding your mouth up and down on his huge cock. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks with how far down your throat he tries to get you. But you do your best to take it like a champ. Especially with how he praises you.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” The words fall from his lips like flowing water. He lost the barrier to keep his thoughts to himself as soon as you took your bra off. “Please don’t stop.”

How could you possibly deny him? You can’t. You blow him better than you ever have before, until his thighs are clenching around your head. You were fully expecting him to blow his load in your mouth at this point and you would have let him. But he pops you off of him and holds you in his hands until he can catch his breath.

“Eddie, whats wrong?” You ask confused.

“I’m sorry,” he says with heavy breaths, “Didn’t want to waste this chance by cumming too quick.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at his words, insinuating that he wanted more than just a quick bj in the back of his van. You’d never thought you’d be doing this with him, but in your current state Eddie could tell you to kill someone you would without question.

“Okay,” you say with a nod, shifting your body until you were sitting in front of him. There was an awkward pause as the two of you stared at each other. You waited for him to make the next move but it seemed like it was never going to come. You’re sure Eddie is just as wrapped up in the moment as you, so you decide to go ahead and make the next move.

You crawl towards him until you’re sitting just above his lap. His eyes never leave your face, round and in awe of you as you move closer to him. You place a hand on either shoulder and you can feel how tense he is.

“Eddie, are you sure you want to do this?”

He’s frozen for a moment. Until his head begins to nod so quickly he could have given himself brain damage from the speed.

“Yes, yeah, I am. As long as you are…”

“I do, too,” you assure him. You look around the messy interior of his van for a moment before looking back at him. “Do you, um, have a…”

Eddie’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of his head as his face shifts into that of a state of panic. He starts to babble, words incoherent until he’s able to form a sentence.

“I-I-I don’t, um, I don’t have any…condoms.” The last word comes out in a hushed tone, almost ashamed as he admits it.

“Well, shit,” you say, finger coming to tap against your lip as you think. You’d never done it without a condom before, and even if you trusted Eddie, the last thing you two needed was an accident to happen.

“I’m sorry, I just--I’ve never done this, so--”

“Wait, what?” You say, stopping him in his tracks. He looks up at you like he said something wrong and it kills you. “Eddie,” you try and keep your tone as neutral as possible, “Are you…still a virgin?”

Eddie swallows, eyes now looking anywhere but you. Eddie’s never brought up anything about his sex life before to you, but you’d not really been all that open with him for that very reason. But you’d always assumed it was just a mutual respect thing, not that he didn’t have anything to share to begin with.

“It’s okay if you are,” you add, “It doesn’t bother me.”

Eddie looks at you again, though now with cheeks pinker than ever. He sighs, nodding once again, but with less vigor than before.

“Yeah, I’m a…virgin.”

Something inside you flips when you hear him admit it out loud. A giddy feeling inside takes over your thoughts as you come to a realization.

“Do you want me to help you change that?”

You barely recognized your own words, and the look that Eddie gave you told you that it came out just as suggestive as you intended. 

“Are you sure?” He stutters out, “I don’t want you to do it because you feel like you have to--”

“Shhh,” you shush him, placing a finger on his lips. “I’m doing this because I want to,” you say, lowering yourself so that the tip of his cock sits right at your entrance. You feel it jump in your hand at the contact. “You just have to say the word.”

Eddie’s eyes are locked where the two of you touch, his breath hitching as your juices coat his thick head. 

“Please,” he says, still looking between you. “I want to.”

You smile, a heat taking over your body as you realize what you’re about to do. But, you try not to let the idea of taking your best friends virginity take you out of the moment. You had to be in charge here and you didn’t want to let Eddie down.

Without a second thought, you start to lower yourself down on him. He’s bigger than you’ve been with before, so you take your time to work him in since you didn’t get any prep before hand.

“Wait,” he says suddenly, stopping you just as you get the tip all the way in. 

“What, what’s wrong?” You ask, starting to pull off of him. But his hands land on your hips to keep you in place.

“I want to do this. Like, you have no idea how much I want this right now. But, what about the no condom thing?”

You blink, thinking quickly over your options. The two of you are too intoxicated to go and get a condom right now. Plus, he’s already technically inside of you, so what good would one do that pulling out wouldn’t, right?

“Just…when you’re about to cum, just tell me and I’ll get off. Okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

Eddie mimics zipping his lips, and you roll your eyes at his playfulness.

“Can I continue now?” He nods again, giving you a thumbs up.

You try to get yourself back into the moment by slowly moving up and down, focusing on the feeling of Eddie’s cock inching deeper and deeper inside of you with each movement. Eddie’s head rolls back and you feel his hips bucking subconsciously beneath you. 

You decide not to torment him anymore and fully seat yourself in his lap. He bucks forward, face colliding with your chest as he’s taken aback by the feeling. 

“You okay?” You say with a giggle, though you’re barely holding back a moan yourself at feeling his cock fully stretching you. 

“Mhmm,” he whimpers into your skin, the grip he has on your hips almost bruising. 

“Do you want me to give you a minute?”

He shakes his head. “No, please move.”

And so you do. You take your time at first, really to give yourself ample opportunity to prepare to take him at a faster pace. But with the sounds he’s making, you feel yourself getting wet enough that you can bounce yourself on his cock with more ease. He keeps his face burried in your chest as you move up and down on his cock.

Eddie’s hands loosen on your hips and move themselves up your sides until they land on your breasts. He holds them around his face, fondling and groping as they rub against his face. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, licking and teething at it softly, sending little shocks of pleasure through you.

All of the feelings were honestly a lot for you to take in. And the more you looked down at him the quicker your own orgasm was approaching. You let yourself forget about his pleasure for a moment as you chased your own high, fully seating yourself to let the thick patch of hair at his base rub deliciously against your clit. You rolled your hips against him and he whined into your chest.

Suddenly, your vision goes white as you feel yourself cumming on his cock. Your body starts to shake, and you’re pussy spasms around him, coating him in your cum.

“Is that you cumming? Holy fuck, I--”

There wasn’t much time to react as your pussy was suddenly being filled. Eddie’s body tenses under you as you’re only just now coming down from your own high. But when you finally realize what was happening, you jump up as fast as you can, head hitting the top of his van.

“Fuck! Damn it, Eddie!”

He snaps out of his post orgasm bliss and jumps up after you, also hitting his head on the ceiling in the process. 

“Shit! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Eddie’s never been more panicked in his life than right now. Not even when he almost got caught by Hopper selling out in the woods. “I can fix this! I-I-I-”

“Eddie, how the hell are you going to fix this? Fuck me, this is my fault. I should have just said no when you said you didn’t have a condom.”

“No, please don’t be mad,” he says, grabbing your arms and giving you the most pathetic, sad look you’ve ever seen. 

“Do you have any money?” You ask him after a moment.

“I probably have like $3 to my name right now. Why?”

“Shit, I just paid my car payment so I only have like $10. I was going to say we could run to the pharmacy and get a Plan B.”

“What’s that?” 

“It’s like a pill that’s supposed to keep you from getting pregnant. But they’re, like, $20 or something crazy like that.”

“I’ll go to Rick. I can probably get some supply from him and sell it in a couple days.”

“I think it only works like the next day. It’s called the morning after pill for a reason I think.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” 

“What about Wayne?”

“I can’t go to Wayne.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t you ask your mom?”

You sigh. He had a point. There was no way you could ask your mom without her asking why. And money was already tight so there wasn’t a good excuse to make up for you needing $20 out of the blue. 

“You know what, it’s fine.” You say, convincing yourself that it was. “My period should be coming soon, so I think we’re okay.”

“How soon is soon?” Eddie asks, clearly not convinced.

“Like, in a week and a half? Usually around the beginning of the month.”

Eddie breaths in, then out, head slumping. He drops to his knees before you and you can see his body start to shake.

“Eddie?” You drop down to his level and get a look at his face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and it sent an arrow through your heart to see him so upset.

“I’m so sorry.” His words come out watery, his head starting to shake. “I didn’t want this to be how it happened.”

His words hit you like a truck. Of course he didn’t want his first time to be like this. He probably wanted it to be with someone he loved, not with his friend, and definitely not with the possibility of getting you pregnant. 

Guilt washed over you. You should have been the better person and not given in to your sick desire to share something like this with him. 

But it’s too late.

You can only hope that this doesn’t ruin your friendship forever.

than you for reading!

[wethotcrazy]

ON A RANDOM TEUSDAY NIGHT

pairing: Ollie Bearman x F1 Academy Driver! Reader

word count: 1792

this was just super cute in my head i hope you guys think so too.

Ollie Bearman stood in the bustling Prema paddock, his helmet dangling loosely from his hand. The familiar roar of engines and the acrid smell of tires burning against asphalt filled the air, but his mind was far from the track. His gaze lingered on her—YN, who stood a few meters away, animatedly chatting with one of their mechanics. Her laughter carried over the noise, light and carefree, and Ollie felt the now-familiar tightening in his chest.

She’d always had that effect on him. From the very first time he met her on a karting track years ago, her fiery determination and quick wit had captivated him. Back then, they were just kids with big dreams and even bigger egos, battling it out for podiums. He wasn’t sure when his competitive admiration had turned into something deeper. Maybe it was the way she celebrated her victories with unrestrained joy or the way she consoled him after a bad race without a hint of condescension. Whatever it was, it had only grown stronger as they climbed through the ranks together.

And now, as he prepared to step into Formula 1 with a rookie seat for Haas and YN geared up for her debut in the Formula 1 Academy, Ollie realized he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He was in love with her.

“Bearman, you’re staring again,” a familiar voice teased. Ollie jolted out of his thoughts to see his Prema teammate, Fred, smirking at him.

“Am not,” Ollie muttered, his ears turning red.

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, mate. Just try not to make it too obvious. You’re like a puppy following her around.”

Ollie groaned, shoving Fred lightly on the shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Hey, don’t worry. She probably thinks you’re just being your usual, annoyingly nice self,” Fred added with a grin.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? YN did think he was just being nice. She’d always been oblivious to the way his heart raced whenever she smiled at him or how he fumbled his words around her. To her, Ollie was just a good friend, someone she could count on in this cutthroat world of motorsport.

“Earth to Ollie,” YN’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he realized she was suddenly right in front of him, her helmet tucked under her arm.

“Uh, hey!” he said, a little too quickly.

“You ready for the simulator session, or are you too busy zoning out?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

Ollie tried to play it cool, shrugging. “I was just... mentally preparing. You know, visualization.”

“Right.” YN smirked, clearly not buying it. “Well, if your visualization involves staring off into space, I think I’m safe to beat you again.”

He laughed, falling into step beside her as they walked toward the team’s trailer. It was moments like these that Ollie cherished the most—easy banter, shared jokes, the kind of connection that came from years of friendship.

But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

As they settled into the simulator room, YN shot him a competitive grin. “Ready to lose?”

Ollie grinned back, masking the butterflies in his stomach. “Not a chance.”

The session flew by, with both of them trading times and trash talk. By the end, YN had edged him out by a mere tenth of a second, and she celebrated with a dramatic fist pump.

“Admit it, Bearman. I’m just better,” she said, her cheeks flushed from excitement.

“Luck,” he retorted, though his grin betrayed him.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” she shot back, ruffling his hair as she walked past him.

It was such a simple, casual gesture, but Ollie’s heart skipped a beat. He watched her leave, his resolve hardening. He couldn’t keep pretending that he was okay with just being her friend.

“Hey, YN,” he called out, his voice stopping her in her tracks. She turned, tilting her head curiously.

“What’s up?”

Ollie hesitated for a fraction of a second, the words on the tip of his tongue. I like you. I’ve liked you for years.

But all he managed was, “Good luck with the F1 Academy test next week. You’re going to crush it.”

Her face lit up with a smile, and she walked back toward him, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Thanks, Ollie. That means a lot.”

As she walked away again, he let out a frustrated sigh. Fred’s words echoed in his mind—a puppy following her around.

He needed to tell her. Soon. Before they both raced off into their separate futures. Before it was too late.

But for now, he could only watch her walk away, his heart pounding in time with the hum of the engines around them.

Ollie Bearman had a problem—a persistent, heart-thumping, words-stuck-in-his-throat kind of problem. And her name was YN.

Over the years, he’d tried everything to tell her how he felt. Subtle hints, not-so-subtle hints, moments that felt perfect in his head but fell apart the second they happened. It wasn’t for lack of trying; Ollie just seemed to have a knack for sabotaging himself whenever the opportunity arose.

There was the time he invited her to a supposedly "quiet dinner" after a long day at the track. He’d booked a cozy Italian restaurant, the kind of place with soft lighting and tiny tables meant for whispered conversations. YN had walked in, all smiles and obliviousness, and promptly started chatting about strategy for their next race. Before Ollie could steer the conversation toward his feelings, Fred and two other teammates had “coincidentally” shown up, loudly ordering pizza and plopping themselves down at their table. Ollie had glared at them, but YN didn’t seem to mind the sudden crowd, laughing and joking like it was the best night ever.

Then there was the time he suggested they “explore the city” during an off weekend. He’d imagined them walking along quiet streets, maybe even holding hands if he was brave enough. But YN had turned it into a full-blown sightseeing tour, complete with maps and recommendations from her social media followers. By the end of the day, they’d been joined by a group of fans who recognized them, and Ollie had spent the evening taking photos instead of confessing his feelings.

Even his teammates were in on it now. Fred and the others took every opportunity to drop hints.

“YN, you know Ollie’s been talking about you all week,” Fred had said one afternoon, not-so-discreetly winking at Ollie.

“Oh, yeah?” YN replied, raising an eyebrow at Ollie.

He’d panicked, blurting out, “Just about how fast you’ve gotten recently!”

Fred had rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of his head.

It all came to a head on a random Tuesday night. Ollie hadn’t planned anything special; he was just dropping by YN’s flat with Chinese takeout after they’d both had grueling days at the simulator. It was supposed to be a casual hangout, like so many they’d had before.

YN opened the door in sweatpants and a messy bun, her face lighting up at the sight of him. “You’re a lifesaver,” she said, grabbing the bags of food from his hands. “I’m starving.”

They sprawled out on her couch, cartons of noodles and spring rolls spread across the coffee table. The TV played softly in the background, though neither of them was paying much attention.

“So,” YN said between bites, “how’s F1 prep going? Ready to be a big shot?”

Ollie chuckled, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, it’s exciting. Nerve-wracking, but exciting.” He glanced at her, his stomach twisting. “What about you? Academy’s a big deal.”

She shrugged, brushing a stray noodle off her lap. “I’m excited, but it’s hard not to think about how different things will be. You in F1, me still working my way up. Feels like we’re finally splitting off after all these years.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. That was the last thing he wanted—to drift apart, to become just another chapter in each other’s racing stories.

He set down his carton, his appetite suddenly gone. “YN…”

She looked up, her brow furrowing. “What’s up?”

This was it. No more excuses, no more interruptions.

“I… I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice steady but his hands gripping his knees. “I’ve been trying to tell you for ages, but I always chicken out or something gets in the way.”

Her expression softened, curiosity replacing confusion. “Okay. Tell me.”

Ollie took a deep breath, his heart hammering so loud he was sure she could hear it. “I like you. I’ve liked you since we were kids in karting. And it’s not just because we’ve spent so much time together or because you’re an amazing driver, though you are. It’s… it’s everything. The way you light up when you talk about something you love, the way you always make people around you feel like they belong. You’re kind, and fierce, and you make me feel like I can do anything just by being there.”

The words spilled out faster than he could think, but he didn’t stop. “And I know I’ve been awful at showing it, and you probably think I’m just your dumb, overly nice friend who brings you noodles and crashes your sightseeing trips, but I—”

“Wait,” YN interrupted, holding up a hand.

Ollie froze, his heart sinking. This is it. She’s going to tell me she doesn’t feel the same.

But instead of looking shocked or awkward, YN was… laughing. Not a mocking laugh, but a soft, incredulous one.

“Ollie,” she said, setting down her food and shifting closer to him. “You think I don’t know how much you care? I mean, sure, I thought you were just naturally sweet, but…” She trailed off, her cheeks tinged pink. “I guess I never thought you’d actually feel the same way I do.”

Ollie blinked. “Wait, what?”

YN smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made all the failed attempts and awkward moments worth it. “I like you too, you idiot.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything, the weight of the unspoken finally lifted. Then Ollie broke into a grin so wide it hurt.

“So… does this mean I finally get to take you on a proper date?”

YN laughed, nudging his shoulder. “You mean not one that turns into a group hangout or a sightseeing tours?”

“Exactly.”

“Then yeah,” she said, her voice warm. “I’d like that.”

As the night wore on, the food grew cold, and the TV played forgotten in the background. But neither of them cared. For the first time, the words they’d left unsaid were finally out in the open, and everything else could wait.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Summary: Your weekend getaway to Indianapolis comes with a boyfriend who's trying to quit smoking, a five-year-old who has difficulty acclimating to new routines, and your own insecurities about your mothering abilities. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: angst, insecurities about motherhood, lost child, Eddie gets mad at us, discussion of menstrual period/PMS

WC: 7.7k A/N: There is a moment where someone refers to us as Harris's mom; however, she doesn't see us. There is no indication that we resemble Harris in any way.

Chapter 16/20

Divider credit to @saradika Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsonsmum

--

The morning dew still kisses the grass when you arrive at the Munson apartment, hauling your duffel bag up to their half-packed car. Eddie’s leaning into the backseat, only his jean-clad legs visible from your vantage point. Harris stands behind him, watching his dad’s every move earnestly and intently. If you had a camera on you, you’d take a photo of this Kodak moment.

“Hi, boys!” you chirp as enthusiastically, tucking your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from laughing when Eddie bangs his head on the roof of the car. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, ‘m good,” he mutters, rubbing at his scalp with one hand, expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile.”Morning, Sweetheart. You sleep well?”

You nod, opening your arms as Harris races towards you for a hug. “What about you guys? Or were you too excited about our super-fun weekend?”

“Daddy snored!” Harris reports with a grin, overjoyed to share what he perceives to be a juicy morsel of gossip.

Eddie gasps in mock-offense, reaching out to take your bag and arranging it amongst his and Harris’s in the trunk. “I did not!”

“Did too!” Harris retorts, turning back to you and adding, “like, so loud!”

You crouch down, and hold a pinky out in front of him. “We’re gonna have to stick together this weekend if we’re going to survive,” returning his smile when he wraps his little finger around yours in a promise.

“Can’t believe my girlfriend is conspiring against me with my own flesh and blood,” Eddie grumbles, eyes widening when he realizes what he’s said; rather, in front of whom he’s said it. His panicked gaze meets yours, and you both anticipate some reaction from Harris, but he’s fortunately unfazed and too fixated on the utter silliness of his dad’s snoring. Eddie clears his throat, determined to change the subject before his son catches on. “I think we’re ready to ship out,” he offers, slamming the trunk shut and pressing down to double-check that it’s closed.

“Snacks?” you ask, running through a mental checklist of necessities.

Eddie holds up a family-size bag of pretzels. “Got ‘em.”

“Water?”

“Backseat,” he points to the floor to the left of Harris’s booster seat–a recent upgrade from his carseat. “Harris will be in charge of that, right, Har?”

“Right!” Harris confirms with a thumbs-up.

“Sounds good. Put him to work,” you tease. Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the playful relationship that you and his son have, swapping smiles and making each other laugh. “Music?”

Eddie juts his chin towards the center console, filled to the brim with cassettes. “Always.”

You cock your eyebrow knowingly before posing your next question, preparing yourself for some visceral response. “Nicotine gum?”

Eddie groans, patting the pack of Nicorette in his pocket. “Unfortunately, yes.” About a week and a half ago, Harris had come home from school crying after the school had put on an assembly about the dangers of smoking. Eddie had been meaning to quit for a long time, but his son worrying over real problems, using words like cancer and heart attack, was what finally pushed him to chuck every pack of cigarettes he owned into the trash. 

“Okay,” you smile and clap your hands together, “I think we’re good to go!” You help Harris buckle his seatbelt before climbing into the passenger seat.

The sedan rumbles to life, catching on the second key turn and disrupting the otherwise still morning. “Gentlemen, start your engines!” Eddie roars in an exaggeratedly deep voice, and Harris giggles from the backseat. With Eddie’s hand on the gearshift, you seize the opportunity to squeeze it, light pink tickling his cheeks at your touch.

It’s only thirty minutes into the drive before it starts.

“Daddy, I gotta pee!”

You can practically feel the patience leaving Eddie’s body, fingers tightly gripping the wheel until his knuckles flush white.

“Har Bear, we just hit the road,” he tries, knowing his efforts are fruitless. “Can you hold it?”

“No, it’s a ‘mergency!”

“Fuck,” Eddie swears under his breath. The likelihood of it actually being an emergency is slim to none, but he’s in no mood to risk it. “All right, I’ll pull over at the next rest stop, ‘kay?”

Eddie takes the next exit, parking at a truck stop and nearly falling out of the car in his scramble to get Harris to the bathroom. “C’mon, c’mon,” he mutters, walking so quickly that Harris nearly trips over his own feet. You quicken your own pace just to keep up with them. 

The scent of coffee grabs your attention as soon as you walk in the door, and you make a beeline for the tiny Dunkin Donuts tucked in the corner. The cashier looks as though they could use a shot or two of espresso, eyelids closing under their visor as you give your order. When the boys get back from the bathroom, you present Eddie with a large coffee with far more milk and sugar than your own, and hand a chocolate donut to Harris. 

Eddie's eyes shift back and forth from the donut to you before he speaks. “It’s, like, 9 am,” he points out. “He’s gonna be bouncing off the walls if he eats that now.”

Oh. Obviously. What were you thinking, giving an already-hyperactive child pure sugar in the morning? All of the times you’d cringed when parents had sent their kids into school with Cocoa Puffs or some equally sugary cereal, and you’d given his son a chocolate donut for breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you sputter, shaking your head in frustration. “I should’ve asked you first, or saved it for later.” 

“‘S fine,” he mutters, heaving an exasperated sigh as Harris takes a giant bite of donut. “At least there’s two of us to chase after him,” he adds with a weak smile. 

Harris has devoured nearly the entire donut by the time Eddie’s buckling him back in, chocolate crumbs tucked into the crevices of his mouth. He’s oblivious to your faux pas, and you’d like to keep it that way. 

“I really am sorry,” you say again, guilt gnawing in your stomach. “I should’ve known better; I guess I just got excited about our little vacation together.”

Eddie’s grin is more genuine this time. “Me, too, baby.” He sneaks a quick kiss to your cheek when Harris is focused on what remains of his snack. “The whole no-smoking thing has me extra bitter, y’know?”

You know. You definitely know, but you’re not about to point out all of the ways he’s been short-tempered lately. Instead, you relax into your seat and try to brush off your mistake as Eddie turns on the radio and guitar riffs replace the silence. 

Eddie rolls down the window as the springtime sun warms the air, and you stretch as the rush of wind cools your body. His curls whip around the base of his neck, dancing in the breeze, and you can’t help but push them out of his face haphazardly. 

Your stomach growls, and you’re grateful for the blaring music masking the embarrassingly loud noise. You’d forgotten to grab something for breakfast in your rush to leave your apartment, and coffee is a poor substitute for the most important meal of the day. 

You reach down to the bag of pretzels nestled against your feet. “Y’want?” you ask Eddie, who nods and opens his mouth for you to feed it to him while he concentrates on the road. Laughter bubbles up from within you as he takes one from your hand by pinching it between his teeth. 

Harris giggles, too. “Daddy, you look like a goat from the zoo!”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie slides the snack into his mouth and bites down with a crunch, “and what sounds do goats make?”

“Hmm,” Harris ponders this for a moment before bleating a resounding, “maaaah!”

You swivel in your seat to give him a high-five. There’s donut residue on your hand when you pull back. “Smarty pants! I bet you know every animal sound there is.”

You and Eddie rattle off different species as you feed him more pretzels. Harris manages perfect impressions of each, until you call out, “sloth!” and effectively stump him. 

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he cackles maniacally, partially because of his sugar rush, you’re sure, “that is so silly!”

“Y’just gotta do everything suuuuper slooooow.” You drag out the last two words to emphasize your point. “Like this: Haaaaarrisssss…caaaaan…youuuuu…haaaaand…meeeeee…aaaaa…waaaaterrrr?” This brings on a fresh round of giggles from the backseat; even extra-bitter Eddie manages a hint of a smile.

Harris grabs a bottle at a snail’s–no, a sloth’s–pace. “Heeere…youuuuu…goooooo!” His pace is far from hurried, and you feel the gentle tap of the plastic cap against your shoulder blade a full thirty seconds later. 

“Thaaaaank…youuuuu!” You crack open the bottle of water and take a swig, quenching a thirst only made worse by the salty snack. “Wanna play again? See how many other animal sounds you can do?” you ask, grateful to have found a way to keep him occupied. Before you can close the bottle, Eddie reaches over and snags it, lifting it to his lips. 

“Daddy, no!” Harris screeches from the backseat, little hand shooting out in protest, causing Eddie to slam on the brake. Water sloshes over the top of the bottle and onto his pants. 

“Shit—what, Har?” he snaps, shoving the now half-empty bottle into the cupholder. He swipes haphazardly at the wet patch on his thigh, darkening the denim as it spreads along the fabric. He gives up with a mumbled, “whatever,” when he realizes he’s only rubbing it in more. 

“You’re gonna get her germs,” Harris points out matter-of-factly. 

Eddie huffs out a terse chuckle, slightly amused but still irritated. “Yeah, yeah, right,” he mutters, and you take that as a sign to reach back and get him his own bottle. 

The remainder of the drive is uneventful, though Eddie has to dip into his Nicorette stash when a maroon Toyota Corolla weaves in and out of lanes at lightning speed and cuts him off. He instinctively reaches for the pack of cigarettes he’d always kept in the console, groaning when he remembers that it’s long gone. 

“Good job, baby,” you murmur softly, giving his knee a quick squeeze in approval as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “‘M proud of you.” 

You pull up to the hotel just after 10 AM, the morning chill has dissipated as the sun’s rays warm the air. The fair weather made the trip smoother, a small miracle if you’d ever seen one. Truthfully, you don’t think Eddie’s frayed nerves can handle a rainy day.

Eddie takes Harris’s hand as you all walk through the parking lot and up to the front desk. A middle-aged concierge greets you, the customer service smile plastered across his face faltering when he clocks Eddie’s ripped jeans and disheveled wind-blown hair. 

“Reservation’s under ‘Munson,’” Eddie says to him, not making eye contact; your heart is a sinking stone when you realize that he also noticed the man’s shifting expression. “I called ahead and they said we could check in early.”

The concierge nods. You catch a glimpse of his shiny silver name tag, proudly proclaiming “STU, ASSISTANT MANAGER” gleaming in the overhead fluorescent lighting. “Room 325,” he grunts, handing you and Eddie keys dangling from matching logo-branded chains. Elation is a sunflower blooming in your chest; your first vacation has officially begun. Maybe it’s a little getaway only ninety minutes from home, but it’s a new adventure that you’re taking together.

Eddie flings his and Harris’s shared bag, then yours, onto one of the queen beds with a groan. “We made it!” he announces, flinging an arm over your shoulder. The pads of his fingers brush your upper arm, a tissue-paper light touch that has you soaring.

“Daddy? I gotta pee again,” Harris’s urgency breaks the moment. He’s hopping from one foot to the other, a potty dance if you’ve ever seen one.

 “Go for it,” Eddie says, pointing towards the bathroom. He shakes his head when his son sprints the short distance.

Once the door closes, Eddie’s hands are on your hips, tugging you so close that your stomachs touch, your breasts pressed to his chest. His mouth immediately swoops down to your neck, nipping gently at the flesh along your collarbone. 

“Hello there,” you manage to speak through a laugh. You’re unable to say more, as he’s pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss so fervently that your teeth nearly click together. 

“Hi,” he breathes once he’s pulled back, brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Sorry, y’just look really pretty.”

You wrinkle your nose in confusion. “I’m wearing sweatpants. I don’t even have makeup on.” Truthfully, you’d meant to at least swipe on some mascara, but you were preoccupied making sure that you’d packed everything you needed for the weekend. 

“Don’t care,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in for another kiss, “still s’fuckin’ pretty. Don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you.”

The solution to that problem comes in the form of a flushing toilet and Harris calling out, “I’m done! Gonna wash my hands!”

Eddie throws his head back in frustration before burying his pink-tinged face in his hands. “This, uh, was not exactly how I imagined our first time in a hotel together,” he admits. 

“At least he’s washing his hands,” you joke, trying to ward off the throbbing need building in your core. It fails miserably. You want him, need him, to relieve the ache in the way that only he can. You yearn for the way his fingertips dance across your skin, eagerly reaching under your shirt or dipping below your waistband, desperate to make his girl feel good.

The two of you break apart as the bathroom door swings open. You fly across the room and pretend like you’re rifling through your duffel bag while Eddie flops onto the bed. His shirt rides up slightly as he lays down, and you have to fight the urge to bite the exposed sliver of tummy. 

“When are we going to the market?” Harris asks, catapulting himself onto the bed and landing next to his dad. 

Eddie rolls over and checks the digital alarm clock between the two queen beds. “Doesn’t start for another few hours,” he says. “I was gonna try and take a quick nap before we—”

“I’m not tired!” Harris whines, and you can see in Eddie’s deflated, tense physicality that his already thin patience is wearing down further. “I wanna go now!”

“Hey, Har Bear,” you try, hoping you’re not inserting yourself into the dynamic too forcefully, “why don’t we go on an adventure while Daddy sleeps? We can wake him up when we get back.”

Harris hops down onto the floor and readily slips his hand into yours. “Bye, Daddy!” he calls out, dragging you towards the door. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are having a ‘venture!”

Eddie gives you a weary but grateful smile as he scoots upwards to rest his head on the overstuffed pillow. “Godspeed,” he mumbles into the sheets, already beginning to doze off as he speaks.

The elevator dings and you shuffle into the small space, reaching for the “L” button to bring you down to the lobby.

“I wanna push the button!” Harris laments, and his sudden shriek has you instinctively pulling your hand back before regaining your composure.

Do you correct him? Let him press the button despite raising his voice? Deciding a consequence comes naturally to you in the classroom, but the anxiety of making the wrong choice serves as a massive roadblock. “You have to ask nicely if you want to push the button,” you offer, sending up a silent prayer that this staves off an impending tantrum.

He pouts for a moment before relenting. “Can I push the button?” It’s more grumble than request, but you accept it anyway.

His hand remains tucked safely into yours when you leave the hotel, basking in warm weather. You breathe in for three, breathe out for three. Okay. You can do this. Your job revolves around children; you can survive an afternoon taking care of just one.

Except that one happens to be your boyfriend’s son, and if you mess this up, it could ruin both Munsons’ perceptions of you.

“Where’re we going?” Harris asks, and you realize that you have no earthly idea; to be honest, you’re surprised that he so readily agreed.

”We can go for a walk?” you suggest, pasting on a smile in feigned confidence. “Maybe we can find a playground or something?”

“Okay!” he chirps. He’s fast for someone with little legs, and you have to remind him multiple times to use his walking feet. Yeah, this kid needs to burn off some energy, stat.

To your relief, there’s a playground just a few blocks away, fully equipped with a swing set and a jungle gym. Harris races across the grassy field onto the wood chip-covered area, assessing the space to figure out what he wants to conquer first.  

You sit on the bench next to a woman who simultaneously reads a James Patterson novel and keeps an eye on the jungle gym, where a little girl is dangling from the monkey bars, putting one hand in front of the other. 

She looks over with a sympathetic smile when you breathe out a long sigh, sinking into the wooden back like a weight has been removed from your shoulders.

“I hear that,” she says with a kind chuckle. “Mine will be tired for about…hmm, five minutes? Just long enough to get her home, and then she’ll be hopping around like the Energizer Bunny.” She shakes her head. “Is yours the same way?”

Yours. The term is peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth, and it takes a beat too long for you to respond. “Y-Yeah, I’m pretty sure he would sleep run if he could.” The stranger laughs at your joke, and you relax a bit. “Sorry, he’s really my boyfriend’s son, and it’s kind of…new to think of him as being mine, too.”

You expect her to pick up and move to a different bench, away from the weird woman who’s baring her soul on the playground, but she just closes her book and turns to you. “Carly is technically my stepdaughter,” she explains in a hushed tone, “but her mom’s not in the picture so, for all intents and purposes, she’s my daughter. No ‘step’ necessary.” 

“Is…is it hard?” you ask, the question spilling from your lips in a desperate plea for answers. “Being a stepmom?”

She nods. “Oh, absolutely.” She brushes a strand of hair from her eyes, and you can see a sparkle behind them. “But, trust me, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Her words, spoken freely of judgment and purely with empathy, alleviate the nervousness burning through you. “Thank you,” you murmur, gratitude forming a lump in your throat that you struggle to swallow.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris shouts from the top of the jungle gym. “Look what I can do!” He hesitates for a moment before reaching out his arms and grabbing onto the metal pole. You stand up to call out a preemptive warning, to get to him before he can fall, but before you can, his chubby hands grip the pole. He hooks his legs around it and slides down expertly, not letting go until his sneakers are firmly planted on the wood chips scattered across the ground. 

Pride warms your heart when his eyes lock with yours, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he awaits your approval. Anticipation reverberates within his little body, and before you can get in a word edgewise, he’s jumping up and down with an excited, “didja see me?”

“You’re amazing!” Your praise floats through the air and envelops him like a long-awaited embrace. “Super brave, too. I don’t think I could do that.”

He furrows his brows before a knowing smile forms on his lips. “Yes, you can! I’ll show you.”

Kind of walked right into that one, you lightly chastise yourself, but you dutifully shuffle towards where he’s already darting up the steps on all fours, hands splayed out for balance. 

“C’mon, Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris cheers, waving his fists in the air in earnest, and you simply cannot let the boy down. He easily glides down once more, big brown eyes looking up at you from the ground. “Just like that, see?”

“Right, got it.” You give him a thumbs-up and emulate his movements, holding on tightly to the metal pole and sliding down. You grimace as it squeaks under your grasp, nails on a chalkboard, but your feet reach the ground soon enough. 

Harris flings his arms around you, chin digging into your thigh as he gazes up in adoration. “I told you you could do it! Y’just had to try!” His admiration is fleeting; he soon spots another child leap from the swingset to play elsewhere. “Can you push me on the swings?” he pleads, already leading you to the equipment. “I just need a little help getting started, but then ‘m good.”

You hold the chain links dangling from the top of the structure, allowing Harris to maneuver himself onto the rubber seat. He scoots back so his bottom is fully supported and announces, “‘m ready!”

“Hold on tight,” you remind him, more out of routine than necessity, as you pull back the rust-covered chains. You move as far back as you can, double-checking that he hasn’t let go, and release the swing. His squealing giggles are music to your ears, and you push him a few more times before he’s able to take over independently. 

His mop of curls defies gravity as he sails back and forth, pumping his legs to gain height. “Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Do you love my daddy?”

You ponder the thought for a moment. You know exactly how you feel about Eddie; he simultaneously kicks up the butterflies in your stomach and calms every buzzing nerve in your body with just a smile, but you’re unsure how much he wants to tell Harris. You settle on the truth, direct and simple: “yeah, I do love him.”

Harris wastes no time asking a follow-up question. “A lot or a little?”

“A lot,” you answer quickly, realizing the magnitude of your enamoration as you say it aloud. The way Eddie’s kisses wrap you in an armor of safety; you hope your kisses have the same effect on him. “Definitely a lot.”

He hums his acknowledgement. “Grampa Wayne says Daddy loves you a lot, too, but I can’t ask you to be my mommy yet.”

You freeze in place so suddenly that the swing’s momentum nearly knocks you down; you step out of the way just before his sneaker-clad feet can make contact with your torso. “You want me to be your mommy?” you repeat dumbly, still half-convinced that you heard him incorrectly. 

“Mhm,” Harris confirms, “but Grampa says that being a mommy is a big ‘sponsibility, and I gotta be patient. That means I gotta wait until Daddy says it’s okay to ask you,” he elaborates matter-of-factly. 

This is clearly something they’ve talked about, extensively enough that Harris knows that he shouldn’t say anything about it. You’re temporarily rendered speechless, words failing you as you search for an appropriate response. Do you thank him? Act like you hadn’t heard him? Hope that a sinkhole opens up in the middle of the playground and swallows you whole?

“Th-That’s great, Har,” you manage, shoulders suddenly heavy with the weight of his statement. He goes back to focusing on pumping his legs, leaving you to tend to the anxiety gnawing at your insides.

Motherhood–the term stepmother seems arbitrary, given that Harris’s biological mother has all but dropped off of the face of the Earth–is a terrifying prospect. Any time you try to explain your fears, people just shrug them off, claiming that you’d be a ‘natural,’ that your years of teaching would ultimately ‘pay off’ when you had children of your own. As if teaching and parenting were remotely the same.

To you, the differences are as clear as day. When you’re a parent, there’s no ‘clocking out.’ Your obligations don’t begin at 9 AM and end at 2 PM; they’re twenty-four hours, seven days a week. It’s not the same thing. Not even close.

Before you became a teacher, you had to go to school and take education courses. Read your textbooks cover to cover. Had to do an internship for a semester. You’d had ample opportunities to determine whether or not it was the right job for you. Motherhood doesn’t offer that luxury: you don’t know if you’ll be a good mom until you’ve already chosen to become one.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” You jump out of your skin when you realize that Harris is slowing himself down, scuffed Reeboks scraping against the ground as he comes to a stop. “Can I get ice cream?”

You bite back a laugh. “You just had a donut, silly boy,” you remind him with a gentle ruffle to his curls, trying to keep your tone breezy, “but we can grab some sandwiches. Maybe even get one for Daddy, too?”

His lower lip quivers, making your heart lurch. “B-But–”

“And,” you interject, “we can go out for ice cream after the market. With Daddy.” You hope it’s a promise you can keep.

It was too good to be true. Deep down, you knew it, despite the fleeting victory of getting Harris to eat an actual lunch. His hands were sticky with peanut butter and jelly–you were making a mental note to reassure Eddie that, yes, some had gotten in his mouth–when you’d done the unthinkable. The unimaginable. 

You hadn’t let him press the elevator button.

He howls and sinks down to the floor, knees slamming into the linoleum tile and making him scream even louder. 

“Buddy, you’ve got peanut–” 

“I wanted to press…the…BUTTON!” he shrieks, every minor inconvenience he’s encountered today culminating in what you can only dub the Tantrum of the Decade. The crash from the sugar rush, not going to the market when he wanted to, the lack of ice cream are represented in every fat tear rolling down his reddening cheeks, in every flail of his legs as you try to scoop him up and bring him into the elevator, in every heaving breath. He’s overtired, overwhelmed, and out of his normal routine.

Your own eyes get misty as the metal door slides shut, enclosing you in a small space that seems to shrink with each wail. The kid has the lung capacity of an Olympic swimmer, while you’re drowning in your own pity.

He’s still sobbing when you reach the third floor, and Eddie’s flying out of the room as soon as he hears the sound of his son crying. Curls disheveled from his nap, crust still at the corners of his eyes. I woke him up, you realize. Another nail in the coffin.

“Wh-What happened?” His voice is raised, not in accusation, but just to be heard over Harris yelling. “Did he get hurt?” He takes Harris from your arms, clutching him to his chest in sheer panic. Reflexively, he inspects his boy’s head, arms, and legs for bruising and blood.

You shake your head, afraid that any attempt to speak will have your voice fracturing into pieces, no better than the little boy’s meltdown.

Fortunately, Harris has no problem filling his dad in. “I–wanted–to push–the button–and–she–said–NO!!!” Each word is punctuated with a hitched breath and is angrier than the last.

Eddie looks at you, more puzzled than worried now that he knows his son is unharmed, and a visit to the emergency room is unnecessary.

“His hands were sticky from his sandwich,” you mutter, unable to make eye contact with either Munson. “Oh, um, this is yours,” you add robotically, handing him the bag containing his hoagie, now a darker shade of brown from the grease it’s soaked up. You wince at how stilted you sound, simply going through the motions, not at all like the enthusiastic presentation you’d planned on the walk back to the hotel. 

“Thanks.” Not unappreciative, but far from enthusiastic, and you can’t blame him. “Let’s just, uh, let’s just get him in the room.”

The sleepiness consumes Harris after a few more arduous minutes in his dad’s embrace. Eddie rubs circles on his back to calm him down, tiny shh sounds passing through his teeth. Harris begins to catch his breath; hiccups like aftershocks ricochet in his chest, gradually subsiding into soft snores. 

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers as he gingerly places him onto the unmade bed, still warm from where he was lying just moments earlier, “that was one hell of a wake-up call.”

You speak at the same volume as him, though you don’t even have to try. Shame buries your voice deep in your diaphragm. “I’m so sorry.” Your right incisor digs into your lower lip as emotion ravishes you. The absence of Harris’s tantruming creates a loud silence that neither of you have the energy to fill. 

“I could say the same to you,” Eddie says with a soft chuckle, taking your hand and squeezing it tight as he sits down on your bed. “His meltdowns are no joke.”

“I should’ve just let him press the damn button.” You’re only half-serious, but your stomach sinks when Eddie says nothing; instead, he carefully unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite. A glob of mustard lands on the parchment paper with a soft plop. 

He doesn’t disagree. You made a mistake—two mistakes, if you’re counting the donut fiasco—and Eddie saw it. Saw that you’d failed. 

“Did you get enough rest?” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject, and you both know it, but you go for it anyway. 

He lets his knee knock into yours. “Never enough, Sweetheart,” he says with a smile, wiping his lips with the flimsy deli napkin. “But, yeah, I got some sleep.” He leans in and murmurs in your ear, “Would’ve been better with you next to me, though.”

You turn so that your nose brushes his. “If I was laying next to you, you wouldn’t be able to sleep,” you quip, stifling your laughter when he takes your cheeks in his hands and smacks a kiss to your lips. 

“I would be a perfect gentleman.” He stretches and exposes the happy trail below his navel. “My eyes are up here,” he teases, catching you checking him out. “And you were worried about me.”

The dynamic shifts back to playful and lighthearted, his joke chipping away at the tension that’s been weighing you down.

“Shut up and eat your sandwich, Munson.”

“Yes, dear.”

You’ve showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes, jeans replacing the ratty sweatpants you’d donned earlier. You’d tried to wash the day’s stress down the drain along with the eucalyptus-scented soap suds, and though you don’t feel completely recharged, you’re ready enough to tackle the market.

Still, you can’t stop yourself from murmuring to Eddie, “d’you want me to stay here with Harris? Just in case it’s too much for him?”

He considers it for a moment before shaking his head, shrugging on his denim jacket. “Nah, he got his nap. Should be fine.”

The little boy in question slips one hand into yours and looks up at you with a grin. Eddie had talked to him earlier, reminded him about expressing himself in ways that didn’t hurt people–or their ears–and Harris apologized tearily. All is forgiven; at least between you and him. You still feel an uneasiness with Eddie, though it may be one-sided, as he’d quietly lamented that you two couldn’t shower together.

“We’re goin’ to the market! We’re goin’ to the market!” Harris chants, shuffling on the balls of his feet in a little dance. “Ms. Sweetheart, guess what?”

“What?”

“WE’RE GOIN’ TO THE MARKET!”

“Shocking,” Eddie mutters under his breath, a wry smile on his lips, and you use your free hand to swat at his stomach. “Okay,” he pats the wallet in the side pocket of his jeans, “got the company card, keys, handsome son, beautiful girlfriend…” He glances around the room; this time, he’s either unaware of his slip-up or is unbothered by Harris knowing your relationship status. “Looks like we’re good to go!”

The car ride isn’t too long; it’s only about a ten minute drive before you reach the market. And since you’d remembered to let Harris press the elevator button, it didn’t feel endless.

“Now, Harris,” Eddie says as his son climbs out of the car, hopping onto the parking lot pavement, “the market’s gonna be busy–”

“I know!”

“--so you have to hold my hand, or Ms. Sweetheart’s hand–”

“I know!”

“--the whole time. Got it?”

“Yes!” He’s far too exasperated for a five-year-old, and you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. “Can we go in now?”

Eddie obliges and takes Harris’s right hand; you take his left, the three of you walking towards the gigantic building together. 

You’d figured it would be crowded, but you’re unprepared for just how overstimulated your senses become upon entering. Vendors shout advertisements for their booths, beckoning potential customers to check out their wares. Snippets of different conversations infiltrate your  ears, and you swallow hard to clear your head, though the grainy muzak pumping through the overhead speakers doesn't help. 

Immediately, you spot a booth selling secondhand books, and you look at Eddie with a hopeful gaze.

“Go,” he motions with a smile, laughing when you all but skip off to the stack of novels. You don’t want to take too long, as neither Munson has the patience to wait while you peruse your options. A weathered paperback copy of The Grapes of Wrath catches your eye, some pages dog-eared and smelling faintly of stale smoke, and you fish out two quarters from the bottom of your bag and place them in the vendor’s hand.

“Okay,” you breathe when you get back to Eddie and Harris, overwhelmed just by the short walk. You grip Harris’s hand even tighter, all-too protective of him in such a crowded space. “Let’s go get some records!”

Eddie finds a variety of vinyls that he knows will sell at Rock Records—from older classics like Louis Armstrong, Etta James, and Buddy Holly, to more recent gems from Van Halen, Queen, and Michael Jackson. 

“Babe, check this out!” he announces gleefully, showing off a copy of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. “I must’ve listened to this a hundred times when it was released in ‘84.” His enthusiasm is palpable, and you have to wonder if this purchase is for the store or for himself.

To his credit, Harris lasts a full twenty-five minutes before he starts asking for ice cream again. “You promised, renember?”

Eddie grins at him, then at you. “A promise, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “Can’t break that.”

“I think I saw a booth down there that’s sellIng some.” It’s a local shop, and you know one cone will probably cost more than a half-gallon at the grocery store, but you’ll risk the upcharge if it means avoiding a second meltdown today. 

“I’ll be right there,” Eddie tells you, eyes flitting back towards a row of booths you’d passed by earlier. “Just get me something with chocolate?”

“What’s the magic word?” Harris interjects. 

“Please.” He lays it on thick, throwing you a wink before turning around. 

You grab a $5 bill from your back pocket, change from when you’d bought the sandwiches earlier, and approach the ice cream stand.

“Can I please get one cherry chip cone, one chocolate fudge cone, and…what do you want, Har?”

“That!” He points to a giant display of model cars displayed in front of a toy vendor’s booth. “I want the orange one!”

“We can look after,” you reassure him. “First, you have to pick the ice cream flavor you want.”

“Hmm,” he presses on tiptoes to peruse his options before pressing his forefinger to the glass, pointing to cookies ‘n cream, declaring, “that one!”

The vendor hands him his cone, then turns to you and confirms, “just the three cones?”

“Mhm.”

She punches some numbers into the register, expression far too serious for the gig. “That'll be $6.”

Exhaling, you hand her the bill in your palm. There’s no way the stodgy woman is going to cut you a break for the extra dollar. “Give me a sec; I should have a single in my wallet.” You let go of Harris’s hand, fumbling around in your bag until you pull out what you’ve been searching for. 

The vendor takes your money and hands you the remaining two cones, already starting to melt with all of the body heat surrounding you. 

“Thank you,” you say with a polite smile. “Okay, Har, let’s—” Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s nowhere to be found.  “Harris!” you call out, voice shaking on the last syllable, unable to hide how frantic you feel. “Harris!”

Eddie, already on his way from his earlier errand, runs over to you. “Where’s—”

“He was just here!” You push your way through the crowd, accidentally brushing your scoop of cherry chip along someone’s jacket, but there’s no time to apologize. 

You and Eddie take turns yelling out his name, bile rising in your throats with each unanswered shout, until you hear somebody ask, “is that your mommy and daddy calling for you?”

Both your and Eddie’s heads swivel towards the conversation, breathing identical sighs of relief when you see the familiar mop of curls in front of the toy car display.

“Oh, thank God.” It comes out in one breath, your chest deflating as you and Eddie rush towards him. 

“Harris, what are you doing?” Eddie admonishes him, heart still racing as the surge of adrenaline tapers off. He picks him up, fingers digging into the shirt fabric as he holds him as close as possible, and presses a kiss to his scalp. There will be some sort of consequence later–revoking TV time and a lecture on stranger danger–but for now, there’s only the comfort of knowing he’s safe.

“I just wanted to see the cars,” Harris protests, trying and failing to wriggle from Eddie’s grip. “Can I get the orange one?”

Eddie huffs out an incredulous laugh, astounded that Harris doesn’t understand the seriousness of his actions. “No, you can’t!” he yells, attracting unwanted attention from other shoppers, “and you can’t wander off like that! I told you that you have to stay with one of us the whole time!” He flexes his palm before clenching it into a frustrated fist. “What were you thinking?”

Harris’s eyes fill with tears. “I j-just wanted to s-see them,” he tries again, taken aback by the anger in his dad’s voice. “An’ Ms. Sweetheart was right there!”

The mention of your nickname reminds Eddie of the other adult involved. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he spits, gritting his teeth to keep from raising his voice at you. 

You wince at his tone, filled with venom for the first time since his comment about Grandma forgetting you all those months ago. The difference is that, now, you deserve it. Letting go of his hand was careless; at the very least, you should have reminded him to stay put. The early morning donut, the elevator button were menial indiscretions compared to this mistake. There’s no denying that you’d royally messed up.

“I’m so sorry.” Sorry for not keeping a closer eye on Harris. Sorry for waking him up from his nap via a screaming child. Sorry for waltzing into their lives and thinking you had a snowball’s chance in Hell of being a decent parent. The ice cream drips down the cones and onto your hands, pooling in the crevices between your fingers. You dump them in the nearest trash can, neither of you hungry anymore.

You can’t return to the hotel soon enough, and as soon as Eddie puts an episode of Rugrats on TV for Harris, you begin inconspicuously packing your collecting your toiletries from the bathroom to back in your luggage.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks from the doorway. He’s got his arms folded across his chest, perplexion wrinkling his brows. 

“Going home.”

He presses his forefinger and thumb to his eyelids and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like–”

“No,” you interrupt him, choking down your frustration, “you were right. You trusted me to watch him, and I didn’t.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie steps forward and puts out a hand to stop you from grabbing your toothbrush, “it was an accident. Things happen in a split second, yeah?” He thinks back to the way Harris had tumbled off of the bed months ago. “We found him, and that’s what matters.”

He’s trying to comfort you, which somehow makes you feel worse. You lost his kid, but he’s focusing on making you feel better.

The next words out of your mouth shatter his heart into pieces: “I think it would be better for everyone if I leave.”

A small puff of air escapes his nostrils, unsurprised but hurt nonetheless. “‘S too much for you, isn’t it?” he mumbles, not even daring to glance in your direction as he says it. 

He knows. He knows that you aren’t cut out for this, that you’ll never be the mom Harris needs or deserves. In his own words, he knows it’s too much for you.

You say nothing in return, and your silence is louder than the cartoon squabble just a few feet away.

“Fine, just…just go, then.” He slams one palm on the bathroom sink, the other raking through his hair so forcefully that a few strands come loose. “God, I need a fucking cigarette!” he mutters, jaw clenched.

“I’m so sorry.” It’s all you can think to say. You’ll repeat it over and over again if it rectifies the situation. 

“Yeah, whatever.” He starts to leave the room, not even turning back around to say, “I’ll tell Harris you’re not feeling well.” He wants to ask you to call the hotel room when you get home but bites back the request. That’s something one partner asks of another, and you aren’t partners anymore, he realizes bitterly, and it’s his fault. He’d put the responsibility of parenthood on you far too quickly. 

He could have insisted that Harris stay and nap with him rather than letting him go to the park. He could have kept Harris by his side while you got the ice cream, or the three of you could have gone together. Instead, he’d just assumed that this was a role you had no qualms about taking on. In his eagerness to build this little family, he’d squandered the foundation before it had even set.

Eddie watches as you walk away, the words wait and don’t go and we can figure this out lurking behind his molars, but he remains silent. 

When the door slams behind you, he bites on his thumb. Go after her, some part of him—his conscience, maybe—nags, but he pushes the thought away. He can’t ask you to stick around and be a mom to his son if it isn't truly what you want to do. 

He removes his finger from between his teeth and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, temporarily confused when he’s met with some resistance. The tiny brown paper bag crinkles as his fingers make contact with it, and he pulls it out dejectedly. 

He’d spotted the necklace while scavenging for record vendors and made a mental note to return to it when you weren’t there to see. A tiny metal heart on a chain that he’d planned to give to you at the end of the trip. It was the reason he’d left you alone with Harris; he’d wanted it to be a surprise. 

“Well, that was a fuckin’ waste,” Eddie says to no one in particular, shoving it back in the confines of his pocket. He sits next to Harris, hoping Tommy Pickles’ shenanigans will melt his brain for just a few moments. 

The next bus to Hawkins pulled up thirty minutes after your cab arrived at the station. It was the only way to get home, and an embarrassingly large part of you hoped that Eddie and Harris would swing by, enveloping you in a tight hug and promising you that you’re doing a great job. That you’re enough. 

That moment remains a daydream, one that replays over and over as you lean your head against the window. It’s all highway from here to your small town, close to three hours on the road because of the intermediate stops, but you’re in no hurry to return. If it hurts now, you can’t imagine the pain when the loneliness sets in. 

Of course Eddie wasn’t coming to rescue you; you’d let him down right when he’d needed you. It was all so superficial on your end, thinking that you could be a mother just because you’d taught Harris how to read and have dinner with him and his dad once a week. 

Wallowing in pity is too indulgent, too pathetic, but you can’t keep from berating yourself. You’re a preschool teacher; how hard is it to remember to hold a kid’s hand?

Tears slip down your cheeks involuntarily and you swipe at them before your seat partner can notice. The last thing you need is to strike up an emotional conversation with a complete stranger. 

And what is it with you and crying today? Getting choked up when Eddie had pointed out the donut mistake, feeling like you were going to have a meltdown alongside Harris, and now this? It’s like you have an endless supply of tears. 

The most likely culprit is your run-of-the-mill PMS; you can always count on being overly sensitive on those select few days. You open your bag and take out the pocket calendar where you keep track of important appointments and dates, including your periods. 

Today’s April 26. You flip back to March, rifling through the pages until you see that the first day of your last period was the twentieth. 

You’re almost a full week late. 

--

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[moneymartin]

teen gf Shauna headcanons pleaseee

🐶 - losergf!shauna hcs

warnings: mostly fluff but a lil smut under the divider :p

a/n: i know u didn’t ask for loser but shauna shipman is soooo loser girlfriend u cannot tell me otherwise. kinda messy and trash… i’m so sleepy rn i’m writing this half awake nd lowk a lil drunk UGH

taglist: @deerlottie @ultrone

my brown eyed beautiful baby where do i even start.

def the most athletic yj i will stand by this till the day i die

MUSCLE MAMAAAA

rolls up the sleeves of her flannels so you can see her muscles pop 😮‍💨

not a gym freak though but she works her arms 100%

cuddlebug fosho

little spoon and you can argue with me about that all you want this girl loves to be held

when she big spoons though she’s burying your face into her chest all the time

she plays with your hair tho no doubt abt it

even when you’re cuddling her instead

super soft kisses all over you while you doze off

sleeps after you do just to make sure cause sometimes you end up sleeping a lil too hard and she needs to make sure you aren’t dead

well thats what she thinks.

wakes up early even though she sleeps the latest out of the both of you

when you sleep for way too long she ends up full on wrestling you until you wake up

music geek

she def loves the smashing pumpkins, radiohead, the cranberries, the cure, mazzy star, jeff buckley, pavement, the cardigans. artists and bands of that genre

had a walkman like nat’s that you guys share on walks together

also has a vinyl player that she keeps at hers so you could listen to music with her when you come over

writes about you in her journal while she listens to the music

also writes these cute little love letters for you and she’ll write what songs she listened to while writing

sleepovers all the time though she’s one of those girls

drives you all over the place too

no matter how far so that you know she truly loves you

she goes absolutely nuts when you’re wearing her clothes i fink

esp her flannels

the moment you’re seen wearing one she can only think about taking it off of you cause it looks so good 😞

loves when you wear her jersey too

or her letterman jacket

funny sock gal

wears the one w monster faces on em or something like that

south park socks… hmo

SMARTY PANTS

got accepted into brown for a reason

she’s always helping you with assignments in case they’re too hard

she runs through them so fast though it actually baffles you to how she can do it

book geek too

has probably read harry potter a million times

edgar allan poe is her main dude she def likes poems and stuff from him

genuinely has a momma instinct

before you even get sick she tells you to be careful with the cold

and you don’t listen.

so you do end up getting sick and she has to take care of you until you’re all better

babies you but is also teasing you cause you didn’t listen to her warnings about it 😭 she could tell beforehand that you were gonna get sick

unlike lottie i think shauna has the ability to cook and stuff like that

not a 5 star chef but she’s good enough for you

being touchy in her public is her thangggg

you guys are always touching somehow

pinky holding, interlocked arms, holding hands, her just grabbing your wrist. she’s always gotta hold you no matter whaaaat

not very possessive but definitely a jealous person

makes it known she’s jealous w her attitude

has those anger issues we all know it

is not afraid to make a scene in front of a bunch of people she will cuss someone out for even looking at you

but she’s just jealous cause she’s really insecure :( poor girl my god

she thinks that the people you talk to are better than she’ll ever be

you have to reassure her countless of times so she can feel better about herself cause she’s always questioning you abt it

she loves little make out seshes behind the bleachers

its def the thrill of being caught like she loves that so much 🥸

when she kisses you she isn’t rough i think she’s very gentle actually

caressing your jaw and cheeks so you know she’s there and its not just some dream 😭

loves sitting on your lap while kissing cause it makes her feel like she’s the one in charge

also cause your hands are always in the spots where she wants them without her having to ask

biting…

teeth marks EVERYWHERE!!!

dom fosho but that’s not relevant rn

during arguments this girl is ruthless

not because she wants to hurt you but it’s because she’s always bubbling up

bottles up everything cause she’s afraid people won’t listen to her

but she’ll apologize eventually after if it looks like whatever she said got to you

won’t mean anything she tells you she just gets so mad at everything cause she can’t express herself as well :(

she regrets it so fast too like she’s immediately saying sorry afterwards

def a lace girly

loves showing off her new sets for you…

red black and white are the favs

OUUHHH

whiny as fuck but also holds her noises in cause she thinks they’re embarrassing

PANTER AND GROANER FOR SUREEEE

switch i think

like if she really wanted to she could top you but she’d rather be a power bottom

have you ride her strap or whatever…

its blue.

loves when you eat her out though cause she gets to pull on your hair

makes you talk her through it and when you’re topping but when she tops shes SO bold

she loves when you praise her thats the only thing she wants to hear from you during it

makes you kiss around her tits for sure

thats where she always wants you to be

when she’s jealous you’re constantly asking if she’s okay which leads into an argument

meaning that it’ll probably lead into really hot angry sex from her

the car scene really spoke to me

initiates everything too

anyways i’m done i’m so tired

[presidentofthelipglossclub]

GUESS WHO'S BIRTHDAY IT IS!!

in honor of my birthday here are some more rescue bots headcanons!!

they (as in constructed rescue bots) have extra color receptors which allows them to see more types of light than other bots, as well as advanced hearing (they’re also the only bots with noses so they have an extra sense)

all of them have outliers (its a requirement to be a rescue bot)

blurr changed his paint job (post s4, before he showed up in rid15) because heatwave and blades basically bullied him into it

the academy where they studied was on a moon of cybertron’s, and they actually spent very little time on cybertron itself. it was sorta like a field trip spot, and they went very infrequently

quickshadow was the academy's champion shot, and she won a bunch of competitions

the rescue bots all had specialties outside of what they actually did (heatwave was a history nerd, boulder studied xenobiology, blades took journalism, chase did psychology, quickshadow was a data analyst, hightide took astronomy)

hightide was actually friends with both orion pax and megatronus separately before they realized they all knew each other

in that same vein, servo and lazerbeak were longtime friends because they grew up together

optimus is so ridiculously tolerant towards whatever the rescue bots do that they actually have a running bet on how much they can get away with before optimus gets angry (he never once has)

blurr's reputation as most annoying bot ever has been intact since way before the war when he was a racer

blades got his name through an awkward mishap at an armory that heatwave never let him live down

related to that, all the rescue bots' "names" are really more of nicknames. their names are listed on documents but their primary identification is through serial numbers because they're cold constructs

boulder had a practically bullet proof reputation at the academy as the perfect student so whenever the others wanted to get away with something they always involved him

when salvage heard about DIY's he got super into them and started making tons of pointless stuff. he never even followed the good channels, only stuff like troom troom

chase succumbs to peer pressure ridiculously easy

heatwave gives really good advice but only on accident

quickshadow and hightide like to hang out and trash talk optimus whenever he does something they don't like

blades only has field medicine training, he's not cleared for any actual treatment outside of an emergency (he can do first aid and EMT stuff but can't, like, prescribe things or do surgery). this has not stopped him from trying things though.

salvage is actually from one of cybertron's colony worlds, but he grew up on cybertron

ok here's a fun little surprise in honor of my birthday: the humans are also included in headcanons!!

kade was actually very good at gymnastics, he just got bored of it

chief burns needs glasses but he prefers to wear contacts

dani had a very extreme scene core phase, and her hairstyle is a remnant of that

frankie has super high government security clearance as a super genius and daughter of one of the world's best scientists, so she knows all kinds of military secrets

doc greene and chief burns met in childhood, doc's family moved away, and then when he got older he moved back to griffin rock and reunited with the chief

graham is the biggest night owl because of college. sometimes, when he has trouble falling asleep, the bots invite him to movie night and they all watch reruns of old movies or shows

building off that, there are two kinds of movie night: the first is with the whole burns family, rescue team, and sometimes others such as optimus or the greenes. the second is less of a movie night and more of a "we need something to do while the humans are sleeping, let's watch trashy tv all night." this kind of movie night is really just the bots (minus whoever has night shift)

professor baranova actually used to be pretty upbeat, although she was a bit misunderstood because she's neurodivergent (i also headcanon that after the whole living underwater for 28 years thing she developed DID and multiple alters to cope with the loneliness, so she's now a system)

woodrow and optimus are in a qpr. optimus refers to him as his amica, and also privately thinks of him as his human partner

doc greene at some point developed a working synthetic energon formula completely independently. when ratchet first met him (post war, probably right before he was hired to work at the rescue academy) and learned about this he lost his shit

bumblebee and dani race together all the time when he visits

this is where i'm gonna stop this post, because it's pretty late for me lol. it was my birthday today, so happy birthday to me!!

also y'all PLEASE talk to me abt any of these headcanons i will be thrilled to elaborate!

[mikalame]

Heyyy i loved “fixing up” can u pleaseee write some hcs of little tom and bill x reader😘🙏 (PLUS YOUR PROFILE IS SO CUTE I LOVE THE PINK)

-Kat💗

Just some cute lil head canons of being besties with the kaulitz gald you like the pick kat 😝

Taglist: @oppopotamus @violentnewmarley @saumspam

After band practice you 3 would go to there house and play with their dads cards and play snap and go fish while eating snacks or talking about the being famous.

Playing around with the kaulitz mums makeup and bill copying what you do and doing it on himself but yk messy cuz yall are 8.

Helping tom with his dreads up keep or just raking your nails through his dreads aswell as bill or brushing out the hair spray in bills hair after a concert.

After bill went to star church and he only comes 2nd you comfort him by you and tom doing silly things like falling over or making funny faces and only stopping when bill cant breath cause hes laughing to hard

When its yours or theirs birthday you always do a cake smash where you 3 just make a total mess of the dining table and just trash it.

When your having a sleepover you 3 go to the park with like a cig each and smoke it while hiding in one of those plastic tubes that you hide in and when ever you heard something you would snuff it out and peek out of the holes in the tube.

When tom had told both of you he had lost his virginity you and bill made a cake with like a lil card and candles with icing congratulating him about it

When you got your first boyfriend and they saw you and that person holding hands then doing a cute lil peck on the lips they would scrub your hand till RED same with your face it would look like you had red lipstick smudge

If you were neighbours with them you 3 would have friday nights bbqs your parents would still and drink while you 3 would be running out of each house causing a muck and would end up sleeping on the trampoline

Your parents would also do like a carpool rotation so they would take turns taking you 3 into school and out of it

In school you and bill would hide under the bleachers during lunch and would gossip about what was happening in school or just people you didn't like

You three doing dress up and being all cute and stuff like tom being dressed as a dragon, you as a knight and bill as a lil princess being stuck in the tree house and tom pretending to kill him while you come in a save him

You sneaking over climbing through their window with your parents wine but spitting it out on the ground cause of the taste and putting it back like nothing happened

If you guys went on school exhibitions you would always try and be together and try and complete they scavenger hunts before the other groups you would always be super competitive

You three would do drawing comps and get your parents to judge but because they don't wanna be rude they say you 3 tied but being competitive little 9 year olds you start yelling at them to pick a winner and that you wont be sad if one of the other win (bill cry's when he don't win then tom calls him a sore loser (only when he wins tho)

Being the only girl you have some ups and downs they might be a little bit softer on you but not a lot you would also get teased a lot if it was windy and your hair was getting messed up.

Trying to bake and you 3 just end up throwing flour at each other and you and tom ending up on the floor brawling over who was going to mix but bill just ends up doing rolling his eyes.

At carnivals you 3 would get matching stick on tattoos like tom would get a lion bill would get a tiger and you would get a leopard all on your arm like a sleeve and would look in the mirror flexing and posing.

Every now and again you get beg tom enough to put makeup over him give him a make up tom usually ruins it by drawing a fake mustach on himself with eyeliner when you and bill rent looking

Hope you like Kat 😘

[nyctorune]

Izumi Sena & Leo Tsukinaga x a messy, messy gn!artistic reader

——————————————————————

Synopsis: How would Izumi and Leo act with a partner who’s a tragically messy artist with extra messy on the side.

Tw? Unless you find fluff and pretend constant disappointment absolutely mortifying, there’s none!

Author note: I’ve fallen down the bottomless pit of Knights yet again and now i’m writing x reader fanfic to quell my depressing thirst for fictional idols. I don’t think the bible approves of me guys-

—————————————————————

—————————————————————

- Izumi Sena -

- Oh great, ANOTHER Leo. At least you’re not running around at the dead of night getting lost and losing your phone…. Right? RIGHT?!?

- He loves you! He does! It’s just… When he sees the remains of your 3AM artist mayhem it just makes him question everything. Just a bit.

- The sketchbooks… The loose paper… The pens, pencils, and markers all over the place… God it haunts him in his dreams. I mean, how does a marker make it behind the GOD DAMNED PILLOWS?!? HELLO?!?!

- Has seriously considered buying restraints. Don’t test him… He will. (must we remember his Makoto moment…?)

- He thinks it’s stupid that you trash so much art. You’re going to suffocate your trashcan with all that beautiful messy art.

- And don’t think you can get away with digital art!! He’s seen your file names!!! Disgusting. How do you even manage to find anything? You don’t? Explains a lot.

- It doesn’t matter where you crash, as you’ll always find yourself back in bed with all your tasmanian devil destruction cleanly put away.

- He always makes sure you get enough sleep, enough to eat, and plenty to drink. And don’t go slouching around like an idiot! It’ll ruin that pretty pretty appearance of yours… Seriously, SOOOO annoying.

- When you show him your recent art piece that has survived Hurricane Y/N, he smiles, just a bit. Butttt like the tsundere he is he quickly covers it up and says your eyes are just playing tricks. You draw too much. Go to sleep before he has to go through the hassle of getting you glasses!!!

- What’s that? You want to know his opinion? Well, of course you do! He is the MOST qualified person for this. He is a model after all~~ He gives you a healthy balance of compliments and criticism. He knows what getting crappy criticism is like, and he never wants you to experience that too. Especially from him.

- Once you’ve left, he smiles and admires your work. He loves it! It doesn’t matter if it’s the next Picasso masterpiece or not, it was made by you and that’s special. He really wants to see where your art goes, and he will stop at nothing to make sure that becomes a reality.

- Leo Tsukinaga -

- Crazy artist two, electric boogaloo.

- The team rocket theme plays when the two of you are seen together.

- “PREPARE FOR TROUBLE! AND MAKE IT DOUBLE!”

- Leo is genuinely SO happy he’s with you. Seriously. He’s never letting you go. Forget Anzu when he has YOU! :D His best, most beautiful muse!

- Naru walks into your shared room with Leo, it’s literally all paper and various stationary. She can’t even see you two!! She sighs and closes the door, she can’t take this much longer….

- Leo sees your art, and he glows. Like, LITERALLY glows. (god applied glow ink to him for 1800 seconds.)

- Your art just makes him so happy and giggly. He’s already hugging you and bouncing up and down like no tomorrow.

- Sometimes, he sees music in your art. Like, both figuratively and literally. There are now at least 20 songs that have come from the back of your sketchbook and 20 more that was written i n your sketchbook.

- If you were to EVER degrade your art in any fashion, well, Leo will get very grumpy. And whiny. And clingy. He’s NOT leaving your side and he will NOT shut up until you agree that all your art is beautiful and you’re super talented and super attractive and amazing and funny and- it never ends…

- There have been multiple instances where all the idols in Ensemble Square have found washed up and stranded pages filled with doodles and music notes. They’re just… not even surprised. They’ve even made a competition from it!

- Whoever finds the most abandoned children of the artistic mayhems ™️ gets *idk insert something that sounds appealing i can’t think of anything.*

- Now, if you decide to come with Leo to Florence, well…. Hell hath no fury like an Izumi annoyed. Buttttt that’s another story for another time ;)

I hope yall enjoyed my little head cannons for my favorite two idiots. If any of you wanna request then please check my pinned post! Have a good rest of the next 12 hours :)

[vodika-vibes]

I don't know, but a lazy afternoon with Fox would be amazing to think, especially after morning sex.

Lazy Afternoon

Summary: You and Fox spend the day together.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Reader

Word Count: 845

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: Fun fact, I started this yesterday, and then got super sick, and so I had to delete everything I wrote and rewrite it, because what I wrote yesterday was trash. Anyway, I'm feeling a little better today.

You’re in the hazy place between sleep and awake, cozy and warm and comfortable, with Fox’s fingers tracing random shapes on the back of your neck while you nap on him.

Today was supposed to be a productive day. There’s so much that needs to be done to make your house livable for Fox to move in with you, furniture needs to more moved, other furniture needs to be bought-

But when he showed up that morning to help you with the move, you didn’t really get anything done before you were pressed against a wall with his lips hot against yours.

To be fair, you didn’t actually go out of your way to stop him, either.

So the pair of you spent the whole morning in bed, relearning each other as though it was possible to forget what makes the other tick.

And now here you are, splayed out on the couch, with a quiet holo playing that you’re pretty sure that Fox is watching, while you just doze on him. 

You release a soft sigh and press your face against his chest, and his hand moves from the back of your neck to play with the ends of your hair, “Are you awake again, cyare?”

You hum in response, and shift slightly so you’re able to look up at him, a warm smile crossing your face when you see that his hair is still mussed up, “Did I sleep long?”

“Only about an hour. You seemed exhausted, so I was happy to let you sleep.” He shifts and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Hm, and whose fault is it that I’m exhausted, I wonder?” You tease with a small grin. 

“Couldn’t be me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replies with a boyish grin. 

“Oh, I’m sure,” You say with a laugh. You take a moment to press your face against his chest again, allowing the scent of Fox, warm and comforting, to fill you, and then you place your hands on his chest, and push yourself up slightly.

Fox releases a huff, and snakes his arms tightly around you, tugging you back down to his chest, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I was thinking you might like some food.”

He considers you for a moment, “I suppose I could eat,” He finally admits, “Are you going to cook for us?”

“I could, but I was thinking of grabbing my datapad and seeing if we could find delivery that would appeal to us both.”

“Lazy,”

“Guilty as charged.” You slide up just enough that you’re able to press a quick kiss against his lips, and then you squirm out of his embrace. Which you’re only able to do because he allows it.

When you return with your datapad, Fox is sitting up and you are more than happy to tuck yourself against his side when you sit back down. He takes your datapad and starts searching for food options, “What kind of food do you want, cyare?” He asks as he drapes his arm over your shoulder.

“Hm…noodles.”

“That doesn’t really help, love.” Fox replies with a grin as he drops a kiss to the top of your head, “Let’s see…oh, it looks like that restaurant you like has started a delivery service. We can get you your noodles and copious amounts of cheesy bread.”

You wrap your arms around him and lay your head on his shoulder, “My favorite. Is there anything there that you’ll eat?”

“I’m sure I can find something.” He scrolls a bit, and then places an order for himself, and then he enters your order. You take the datapad back to pay for the food, having memorized your credit chit number ages ago.

And then you toss the datapad onto the table and you snuggle close to Fox again, “There, food should be here within the hour.”

“And what should we do until then,” Fox asks, with a mischievous grin on his face.

“You’re insatiable.” You say with a huff.

“Mm. You’re addicting,” Fox slides you onto his lap, and pulls your head down so your forehead is pressed against his. “Can’t seem to get enough of you.”

You brush your thumb against his cheek, “Oh, the things you say-”

“I mean it. Every word.” Fox says, seriously, “You make me want to be a better version of myself.”

“Not sure how you’d improve on perfection, love.”

He chuckles and pulls you into a deep kiss. “I think you’re a little biased, mesh’la.”

“I’m allowed.” You reply as you kiss him again and again.

Fox releases a noise that could only be called a growl, “Careful, cyare. Keep that up and we’re going to end up back in the bedroom.”

You flash a slow smile, “Is that a threat or a promise?”

He groans, “Both. Neither. I don’t know.”

You laugh, and then yelp when he suddenly stands, “Fox!”

He grins at you as he carries you back into the bedroom. Looks like your lazy afternoon isn’t going to remain that way for long.

[a-vessels-thoughts]

Random Naegi HCs

The Naegi family are naturally good marksmen. Makoto has more raw talent in this than komaru does. This makes them, ironically enough, bad at baseball (their throws are too clean, too straight, and they don't have the raw strength to blitz people) but really good at basketball despite the height.

Komaru is stronger than Makoto, and by a landslide. Makoto is way more flexible, though, so at least he has that over her.

Both can't dance to save their lives. They're singers, leave their two left feet alone!

Komaru can't cook. She will make a fire with water. Makoto will make your kitchen look like a warzone. Everyone thinks the taste is worth the clean-up; it also looks really good!

Komaru is the first to notice all this and just sighs, muttering under her breath, "Isn't it supposed to be the opposite?" She's more jealous that she can't cook than anything. Was in a cooking club to learn before the tragedy.

Komaru calls Makoto Lil bro (as a jab at his height). This has made many people think she's actually the older sibling. There was an event with the future foundation, and komaru was listed as his elder. She laughed her ass off.

Komaru has NO charisma (the utter girl failure) Makoto stole it all. She talked her way INTO a fight with a pacifist by pure accident (both were trying to avoid conflict).

Makoto's talk no jutsu could almost count as brainwashing. Assassins after his head have learnt to plug their ears, because You Stand No Chance Otherwise.

Makoto is scared of fighting any woman, not out of a sense of honor or anything, he just assumes they can bend him like a pretzel (he's right, 9/10 times he's out under 5 seconds in direct confrontation).

Makoto only read manga because Komaru was into it, he's more of a... literally anything else guy. He liked some of the fluffy and Shonen manga the most.

Komaru reads BL (and yes, Makoto read some of them with her), and Toko Can't Stand It, literally has a No BL policy. Genocider and Komaru have a sorta book club over it. Could probably stop Genocider from committing any crimes (or drop anything she's doing) by saying Komaru wants to share manga recommendations.

Makoto is a complete malewife, cleans, cooks, does the laundry, is good at makeup if he ever learns, can wrap up wounds and scold you (gently) so well, but is utterly horrible at fashion. ("I can just... grab whatever, right?") He has no idea why Komaru is so smug that she has good fashion senses.

Makoto is super naturally cold, even with his shirt, thick jacket, and BLAZER combo he sometimes still feels cold! Could lowkey function as a refrigerator even in the summer. Komaru is the opposite. As kids, they were inseparable when sleeping and are cuddle monsters to this day because of it.

Makoto is naturally drawn towards caliginous colours. Give him all the edgy dark colours, they're his; black is probably his favorite. Komaru doesn't actually have a preference, as long as it doesn't clash when she wears it.

Both naegi's are really good at spotting romances and pairing people up... when it isn't themself. It's genuinely frustrating for others because they can call people getting together before it even gets platonic, but you could pin the naegis to a wall, whisper huskily in their ear before kissing roughly, and you'd have a 50/50 chance that they interpreted it right.

"Oh, we're just friends, why would they be interested?" -both naegis, despite literally raising children with their partners. Both are Actively at risk of becoming black holes.

Komaru is somehow an amazing and HORRIBLE mother. The girl failure energy is too strong. Her (likely adopted) children would trash talk her before they could crawl. It might've been Toko's doing, but still... trash talked by babies. At least the family is loving, and she would never lock any child in a closet... on purpose. 100% apologizes profusely if it happened.

Both are incredibly snarky. Makoto is way less obvious, and he rarely has the chance to be during/after the killing game, but Komaru is a ball of sarcasm and teasing after some therapy. Hina finds both of them bickering with each other and kind of short circuits. (They were both so kind normally??? What was this??? ) She can barely wrap her around the fact that this is their Natural State. Makoto decides to use this to his advantage by being sarcastic/jokingly passive-aggressive when people are least expecting it; Komaru lives for it. It catches even Kyoko off guard for the first few times.

Komaru is good at physics; Makoto isn't and hates it like any other maths related subject. He actually really likes history. Komaru sucks at psychology. Both agree that English sucks. Literature is kinda... there, to them. Both are good at chemistry, but for different reasons. Makoto has a great memory, Komaru is Just Good At It. Can also make it explode at will, for some reason??? No one understands why.

Makoto was gloomy and shy as hell as a child (also an outcast), Komaru was the brave and outgoing one. No one believes her when she says this, ever. (Even as children, people thought Komaru was older because of their dynamic and Makoto relying on Komaru way more than she did him, to outsiders).

Their parents kinda suck.

Makoto has broken several laws, got into fights, and was probably a vigilante at some point. He rarely talks about this. People don't believe any of it until he committed treason.

[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt26

Beginning   Previous   Next

When they surfaced from her room at lunch, everyone was there. Mari honestly didn't know how they all fit at this point. Bruce and the boys were glaring at Luka for some reason, but Damian turned his on her once they were noticed.

"Melody, can we talk?" Luka wouldn't meet her eyes. Yeah, her Maman must have had an interesting talk with him. Before she could answer, Damian spoke up.

"What is Cain wearing?" She had no idea why he sounded insulted. They'd put together an outfit for her since all her clothes were at the hotel, and Mari looked it over again to try and figure out his issue with it.

"It's a dress and leggings." He looked like he was about to explode, but Cass signed something at him and he just sneered at them instead. The dress itself looked black at the top and faded to light blue at the bottom. It was offset to be mid-thigh on the right, flowing down to just below the knee on the left, and paired with midnight blue leggings. It's not like it was super girly or anything. "No concept of fashion, I take it. We'll have to fix that." Damian's glare intensified, but the other boys were snickering in the background. Even Tim, so he must have gotten some sleep finally.

"You look very nice, Cass." Bruce's tone was a bit pointed, but she could tell he meant it.

"Of course she does. Mari doesn't make trash." Mari had to cough to cover a laugh at Chloe's haughty tone. At least until Dick, Jason, and Tim started yelling about not being the first to get something from her. At least that's what she thought they were yelling about. Mari rolled her eyes before gesturing Luka up to her room. Once she closed the door, he didn't seem to know what to say.

"Maman really scared you didn't she?" He winced.

"She called the Captain and told her about it. She explained what I was doing in... colorful terms. I didn't realize... I'm sorry." Oh. She couldn't even imagine that conversation.

"Um... how did she take us all being in a relationship?" They hadn't told the Captain about it simply because Luka was worried she'd slip and tell Juleka. Honestly, of all their parents, she was the one Mari was least concerned about.

"At the moment, she thinks both of you are too good for me. And I'd have to agree." She sighed and put a hand on his chest.

"You have a good heart, and you feel too much from other people. I get that. But sometimes you need to let people hurt. You need to let them work through things in their own time. Just because you think you see the answer, doesn't mean it's the right time, or even always the right answer. I need you to let me do things at my pace. Please."

"I'll do my best, but you're probably going to have to point out when I'm crossing a line. I'm not always sure when it's helping or interfering." She had to roll her eyes at that.

"You talk to the person you're trying to help instead of running off and fixing it the way you think it should be fixed. If you're going around the person, then you can assume it's interference." She could actually see the concept click in his mind.

"Oh." He frowned and seemed to retreat into his thoughts. After a few minutes, she moved a hand up to his cheek to get him to focus back on her.

"I know you just want to help. It's part of the reason I love you. You just need to be more careful with how you go about it." She leaned in to kiss his other cheek when a cough sounded from the trapdoor. They turned to see Bruce frowning at them.

"I really don't think you two should be up here alone." Fantastic. She was really hoping to not have this conversation, but apparently her luck was off.

"That's really none of your business. Maman and Papa are fine with it, and that's all that matters, since this is their house. However, if it bothers you that much, feel free to send Kagami up as well." The glare he sent her had probably backed down some of his villains, but she just raised an eyebrow at him. She wasn't about to let him think it was okay to treat her like a child or boss her around. "Not to mention, if we were going to be doing anything 'inappropriate', the door would have been locked."

Bruce sputtered for a moment and turned a shade of purple she hadn't seen before. Served him right. Eventually, he went back down the stairs, but left the door open. Because that was obviously going to keep anything from happening. Luka laughed quietly.

"Do you really think that was a good idea?" She just shrugged at him.

"I'm not about to let someone that barely knows me try to change how I live my life." Luka wrapped his arms around her and she leaned into him. Then Kagami poked her head up, looking confused.

"Bruce said you wanted to see me?" Mari let out a groan, but Luka just chuckled.

"Come in and lock the door, please." Kagami gave her an odd look, but did as asked. If Bruce wanted to play this game, he was going to have to deal with the consequences.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to antagonize him? You don't want him getting Akumatized." She blinked at Luka in confusion for a moment before she realized they had no idea what happened last night.

"Hawkmoth won't be an issue for a couple of days, and he needs to figure out that he's not the parent."

"Why won't he be a problem?" Kagami's voice was mostly anger, but she could tell it was hiding worry.

"Plagg got rid of a few Akumas and said the backlash should knock him out. Maybe he'll let up on the constant stream of stupidity, since he likely has no idea what happened." It would be nice to have breaks in between battles again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" While expected, Luka's question just made her sigh. No, she really didn't.

"I was upset." A massive understatement, but they knew better than to push it. Luka hugged her tighter and Kagami moved closer to start rubbing her lower back. It was nice, until there was a pounding on the door, followed by Sabine's exasperated voice.

"You already went up there once without knocking. What did you expect her to do?" Mari felt her phone vibrate and pulled it out to find a text from Cass:

I think B is going to have a stroke ;)

At least someone saw how funny this was. Granted, she should probably go back down there before Bruce said or did something to really piss off her parents. She could see him trying to lecture them on parenting, and that was a sure way to get kicked out of the house. That or they'd somehow start up the argument about killing again.

"We could just leave from the roof and go to our houseboat. Let nature take its course." Kagami sounded serious, and Mari would admit it was tempting. "You can text Cass and tell her to meet us by the school." So very tempting.

"Better not. I would rather my Maman not kill anyone today. But if things don't get better, we can bail after lunch and say I want to show Cass the school before tomorrow."

"She's going to school with you? That should be interesting." Luka sounded less than enthused.

"The real question is which one is going to go after Lila for insulting the other one?" Kagami was joking, but the thought of Lila going after Cass made her blood boil. She tried anything and her little house of cards was going to get set on fire.

"Hopefully, if she sees that look on Mari's face, she'll be too scared to do anything." She just gave Luka an annoyed glare.

"Given why Alya was Akumatized, I have a feeling she'll have bigger issues than trying anything with us. If she decides to try anyway, it's her funeral." Luka winced.

"You do realize that means you're going to have to deal with Alya right? Are you prepared for that?"

"I'm not sure it's possible to be prepared for something like that. I'll have Cass there, so it will make certain things easier. As for the rest... I'll just have to deal with it as it comes." Nothing about this was going to be easy. More pounding came from the trapdoor. "I'm so tempted to just stay up here longer every time he does that."

"You said you didn't want Sabine killing anyone today, remember?" Luka sounded far too amused.

"I suppose." She trudged over to the door before unlocking it and flinging it open. Bruce was there, ready to knock again. "You are a guest in this house and you're being extremely rude." Her tone was colder than she'd intended and he looked a bit stunned by it. She closed the door again, taking a deep breath. The stress must be getting to her more than she thought. Kagami came over to wrap her in a hug. You wouldn't know it by her attitude most of the time, but Kagami gave the best hugs.

"Everything will be alright, Daarin." The endearment calmed her down more than anything. Given how strict her mother was, Kagami didn't use them, especially not ones that weren't traditional, except with the two of them. She still wasn't comfortable using them when anyone else was around to hear. They'd told her it wasn't necessary, but she seemed determined for some reason. "You know I'm ready to impale anyone who upsets you." She huffed out a laugh.

"Love you too." Kagami tensed for a moment before relaxing. She still wasn't used to hearing that, and hadn't said it to Mari or Luka yet, but they knew. Kagami preferred actions to words, and she showed them constantly how she felt. "Alright, I suppose I'm ready to face the music." Luka rolled his eyes. He really didn't like that saying. 

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[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 3 "Co-conspirators"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

Link to Chapter 2: https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/728315714878980096/background-hunter-and-mad-bond-make-love-and?source=share

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Word Count: 670 (Went REALLY short this time!)

Background: Hiding evidence, meeting a new supporting character. My apologies, this is a connecting chapter and while not super exciting, I think it's sexy cute/bit angsty.

Warning: Nudity, mentions of sex/making love, Hunter fluff, OC angst.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

Recap: The wooden settee collapsed, having broken in several places, dumping them both onto the rug underneath. 

Hunter and Mad laid there shocked for a few seconds. 

“FUCK!  Cid’s going to have my ass for this!!!” 

Mad howled in maniacal laughter.   

“Not funny.”  Hunter scowled.  “She really hates me.” 

“We break it up, burn it in the bonfire, and remove the evidence.  Then just say we never saw it. We aren’t the only ones who have used The Oasis.  You stick to your story, and I stick to mine.  Nobody drops the dime on each other, and we might just get away with it.” 

Hunter looked at Mad like she lost her mind. 

“Trust me.  I've known Cid a lot longer than you have.  We can do this.” 

“Thought you both were friendly or...business associates?” 

“Ooh Hunter, my sweet summer Hunk” Mad playfully booped his nose “NOBODY is Cid’s friend.  She will do you, I or anyone dirty given the chance.  Don’t trust her too much.  She’s convenient in small, occasional doses.” 

Hunter sighed heavily and gazed down at the broken settee. It was going to be a very long night. 

Surprisingly Mad was the first to awaken. Usually, Hunter awoke with the rising sun, however, last night’s activities wore him out. He slept peacefully in Mad’s embrace, snoring soundly. They both smelled of dried sweat, sex, and smoke. The ashes in the firepit from the burned settee occasionally stirred with the gentle morning breeze. The only evidence of their shared conspiracy.  

Stretching her arms and legs out from under the blanket, Mad groaned quietly, then embraced Hunter again. She gazed down at him, marveling at how the morning sunlight illuminated his hair, the tattoo on his face, his dark skin. He seemed like such a sweet man. But she didn’t want to get her hopes up that last night would be any more than two people temporarily coupling to quell their inner pain. He was too handsome to stay with one person. He could have anyone he wanted. Candy coated trouble, potentially a bittersweet heartbreak. She steeled herself to be content with what she had last night. Nothing more. Don’t get too attached. 

Mad could hear stirring down below on the street. People getting up and starting their day.   

A familiar voice called up to the Oasis. “Good morning, Love Birds!” cackling. That guy...again? The drunk from last night. Mad had to get a good look at this character. She carefully slid out from under the covers, grabbed her shirt and slipped it on, parting the potted plants to gaze over the wall to the street below. 

A skinny, disheveled man with stringy hair and a beard gazed back up at her and waved. He was coated in dirt and trash. Had she been closer, she would have guessed he might have...a smell. “Hey pretty lady.” 

“Don’t you sleep?” she sassed him. “Go home!” 

“I am home. This IS my home.” He gestured at the trash piles on the street that were set out for pickup. “How can you expect me to sleep with you and your boyfriend being so noisy?” He smiled innocently. 

Mad intended to tell him what a dirty old Gill-Goat he was when a hand suddenly cupped her bare bottom. She screamed in shock and whirled around. 

Hunter stood there buck naked and grinning.  

“Ohh, you HAVE to stop doing THAT! You’re lucky I don’t have my blaster handy.” 

“No pants, no blaster, no worries.” Hunter smirked. He put his arms around Mad and pulled her close. “Who's the stinky guy hitting on you? His funk woke me up from a sound sleep.” 

“The drunk from last night. Hey...” Mad half turned to look down at the street below. The man was gone. Disappeared into thin air. “Where’d he go?” 

“Mmmm...convenient. Won’t hear your screams of ecstasy when I make passionate love to you again.” Hunter teased. With that he picked Mad up, slung her over his shoulder and took her back to bed. 

Pedro says: Please like, comment, AND REBLOG, ya sexy bitch!

To read Chapter 4

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/730320896366149632/vagabonds-chapter-4?source=share

[yourkimjaejin]

Times When NCT was Protective over Aurora

This was a request by Sophrodite. Thanks so much for the request. I hope you all enjoy!! ~ Author Izzy

The notion of NCT protecting Aurora is laughable 

Because she can and will protect herself(see the numerous times she has or has wanted to punch someone)

But there are couple times where NCT have stepped in or backed Aurora up and here’s more than a couple

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

During the The Dream Show 2 Tour in North America, Aurora realized how many fans loved her.

She also saw the lengths antis will go to make an idol they hate understand why they don’t like them

A couple fans were rude to the members over the course of the tour so far but eventually they shrugged them off. Remembering there's thousands of other fans that love them in this one fans place

Aurora had a group of Antis since debut. Somehow the scrounged up the money to fly to Dallas and buy floor seats

Haechan was the first to notice them. They kept talking over Aurora first mnet of the night

Later,  Aurora made eye contact with one of them. They group of anti’s let their backs face her while Aurora was on their side. She straight up ignored them but the boys didn’t think that was enough

Even member found someway to hang off Aurora the whole concert

Jisung and Aurora were extra flirty during Quiet Down

Renjun holding hands with her during Sorry, Heart

Both Chenle and Aurora being super chaotic during Love Again

Jeno attaching to her leg during Candy, knowing she can't drag him by herself

Jaemin kept trying to tickle her during Chewing Gum

Even Haechan left his annoy Jisung agenda during Puzzle Piece to pull Aurora into his lap so they could share a mic

The anti’s after a while just quietly left the show. Score for the Dreamies!!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

During training, Aurora was friends with a very select few. The rest she ignored. 

Some of the female trainees were turned off by her standoffish nature but at first they didn’t mind

Until Aurora started training with baby shinki

Aurora was chosen over trainees that had been in SM for years. And they did not like that. Some of the slighted girls gathered together in a room to bad mouth Aurora for hours.

Aurora never found out about it because this group never said anything to her face. Anything that was said was kept in the room for their ears only.

This went on for months, they’d act cool in front of Aurora’s face then dog her out behind her back.

Until the boys found out.

One of the girls implied that Aurora was possibly sleeping with them (First of all - Ew. Second of all - get your head out of the clouds.) Mark went OFF

The girls’ were in tears by the time Mark was finished. He almost kept going but Aurora walked in. 

(I’m not gonna say more because I am in the process of writing this whole debacle)

Aurora didn’t want to tell anyone about what happened. She felt Mark’s rant was enough. But Moxy and Juno disagreed. 

When those same girls complained to their teachers about their dorm room’s being trashed. Nobody could prove it was them

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

This one doesn’t happen often. For the longest time Aurora’s wardrobe didn’t get to the young idol without being approved by Ms. Chae, Moxy or Mark if the first two weren’t available. 

As she grew up, Aurora felt better about her stage outfits. More comfortable defending her own comfort zone without the help of her mom or leader.

But sometimes it couldn’t be helped. 

Once, during a Breakout!Era fansign, the stylists gave Aurora a skirt without some slip shorts underneath. At first, she felt fine. Great even. Then the leering eyes started getting to her whether they were real or imaginary. 

The skirt was just a bit out of her comfort zone. A place she thought she was ready to leave

Moxy noticed the maknae squirming around but she couldn’t really do much since they were outside and none of the stylists brought clothes to change into.  

So Moxy stood behind Aurora for the ENTIRE fansign to protect her

None of the fans in attendance really understood what was going on with them but they were too busy giving heart eyes to the two members

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Some fans take things too far. Especially in this case. 

The Dreamies were at a fansign for Boom. Everything was going smoothly until the last couple of fans waiting in line. Among the girls was one guy. Quietly he went down the line of members until her reached Aurora at the end. 

In casual fashion, Aurora was her usual self until her face dropped.

“You know, you didn’t have to join a boy group to find a guy. Plenty of guys are out there, including me.” 

Aurora froze in place, pen still signing her signature onto her picture. She put the pen down then faced the ‘Fan’

“If I wanted to find a guy and then I found you, my mom would disown me because I would’ve lowered my standards. Look at you. You prepared that for how long and now you have to sit embarrassed knowing that the idol you adore would never want you.” 

The ‘Fan’ left with his tail tucked between his legs 

What Aurora didn’t notice was the six twin glares the boy was getting. Those eyes were enough to get him moving but Aurora’s just as sharp eyes kept him in place

Like brother, like sister

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Aurora has a wide demographic of fans. By far, the wildest are the males. Male fans love her standoff-ish nature 

But a chosen few take it too far. 

During a music show recording for Welcome To The Jungle, a “fan” started screaming weird things directed at Aurora

At first Aurora ignored them, keeping her attention on the fans opposite from the screaming one

But then they got louder. And bolder.

Fans saw Aurora get more and more disturbed by this fan's presence. 

The pre-record started soon after. This dude kept screaming the entire time, disrupting the fan chant. Making fan uncomfortable. Irritating the staff. 

It was Hannah who decided enough was enough. 

Once the pre-record was over, Hannah stomped off stage. Ten minutes later she reappeared. She whispered something in Aurora and the maknae visibly relaxed

Seconds later, The fan and his friend were dragged out by security.

Don’t piss off Hannah: Lesson Learned

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

NCT has watched Aurora grow up before their eyes. She went from a little kid to a strong woman in the blink of an eye. 

They were there when puberty hit Aurora like a bullet train

One day everything was fine. The next day, the whole world was turned on its head. 

Suddenly she needed new articles of clothing that she wasn’t worried about before. Every month cramps, headaches and nausea racked through her body only to disappear a week later. 

Boys became appealing to her eye. Her style changed. Her taste buds changes. 

It all became too much

So Aurora lashed out. Expecting them to fight back, the members not holding her outbursts against her made her feel worse. Eventually everything reached a head during one We Go Up dance practice. 

Aurora just exploded. Ranted and raved for ten minutes straight before crumbling to the floor in tears. Renjun was the first by her side, pulling her head into his neck and dragging her legs into his lap. One by one the boys surrounded her until she cries herself to sleep

The Dreamies agreed to never speak about what happened. But they did inform the other members about Aurora problems so they all knew how to handle it. Give her space

When she came to any of them for help, they kept it quiet. Knowing the maknae would recede even further if she felt everyone was talking behind her back. 

She changed her hair and clothes. Anything she didn’t like ended up in the trash until her current style stuck. 

The members helped Aurora during her time of the month no matter how embarrassed they all felt. 

She talked about boys. Not a lot but enough for the maknae. 

NCT as a whole kept this up until Aurora felt like herself in her own skin again. 

When she looks back at that time, Aurora can feel the tears build up.

She really has the most amazing family. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Request: I've just read the most recent post and my heart hurts for my precious Rora.. I love that girl so much. I want some moments were NCT/AG were overprotective over Rora, I need some fluff (and angst if needed) bcs all her scenarios are angst (not that I'm not like the biggest fan of it skkskw) Keep up the good work and take care of yourself, don't apologize for anything, I'm sure that anon understands that you have a life too~💛

Taglist: @alixnsuperstxr / @1-800-call-ria / @sophrodite / @sunflower-0180

[cannotflyarc]

✩ for Mac and Johanna but we just do the platonic stuff

DISAGREEMENTS.

who is more likely to raise their voice? neither. mac would have to do something bad to get johanna to yell at her. who trashes the house? mac might on accident because she works all the time, but it never lasts long. how often do they argue/disagree? not often. johanna was giving her some Stares and expected mac to try to fight with her in the beginning, but they don't argue a lot. who is the first to apologize? johanna.

SLEEPING.

who snores? if both do, who snores the loudest? johanna does. don't know about mac. who talks in their sleep? johanna does when she has bad dreams. are either of your muses insomniacs? JOHANNA LOL. can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? no they freak johanna out. who wakes up with bed hair? mac. who wakes up first? johanna. who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? not their thing. do they set an alarm each night? johanna gets up naturally. mac does. can a television be found in their bedroom? no. who has nightmares? johanna does. mac does. who has ridiculous dreams? mac. what time is bed time? uhhhhh. any routines/rituals before bed? johanna has hair things to do. who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? neither are super grumpy.

WORK.

who is the busiest? they're busy at different times. who rakes in the highest income? mac? gets paid more? but also student debt? are any of your muses unemployed? neither are. who takes the most sick days? johanna makes mac. who is more likely to turn up late to work? neither. who sucks up to their boss? neither. what are their jobs? johanna is a pediatric medical assistant and mac is a midwife. who stresses the most? johanna. do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? yes for both. are your muses financially stable? johanna is. mac is not.

HOME.

who does the washing? johanna. who takes out the trash? anthony. who does the ironing? johanna. who does the cooking? mac and anthony. who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? johanna. who is messier?  no one is really. who leaves the toilet roll empty? no one. who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? no one. who forgets to flush the toilet? no one. who is the prankster around the house? no one. who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? no one owns a car. who mows the lawn? no lawn. who answers the telephone? mac. who does the vacuuming? johanna. who does the groceries? mac. who takes the longest to shower? johanna because she got long hair. who spends the most time in the bathroom? johanna because hair.

MISCELLANEOUS.

is money a problem? for mac. for johanna, no. how many cars do they own? none. do they own their home or do they rent? rent before they move to the suburbs. do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? neither. do they live in the city or in the country?  city and then suburbs. do they enjoy their surroundings? johanna isn't very happy to be honest. nyc reminds her of london. what’s their song? probably for good from w.icked. what do they do when they’re away from each other? working. where did they first meet? in class. how did they first meet? they were in class/saw each other around campus. anthony really befriended mac and invited her to move in. who spends the most money when out shopping? neither. who’s more likely to flash their assets? neither. who finds it amusing when the other trips over? neither. any mental issues? YUP. who’s terrified of bugs? neither one? who kills the spiders around the house? either. their favorite place? they just like to hang out at home together. grab a blanket, curl up with a book. who pays the bills? they pay separate bills. do they have any fears for their future? johanna sure does. who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? pass. who uses up all of the hot water?  johanna on accident. who’s the tallest? mac. who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? johanna. what do they tease each other about? johanna doesn't really tease her friends honestly. who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? neither. do they have mutual friends? johanna knows mac's friends kind of. does that count? any alcohol or substance related problems? no. who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? no. who swears the most? neither.

[salvadoerena]

....... Im going to be embarrassing. Stenjames 1 through 10, and JamesAbel for 11-21 💕

Stenjames:

1. Who most initiates PDA?

James does, absolutely. That man cannot keep his hands to himself he's constantly grabbing Sten's arm/hand/waist and dragging him around everywhere.

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

James drools. A lot. I doubt Sten was ready for waking up everyday as a wet t-shirt contestant. Also Sten big. James has to sleep on top of him, for survival purposes.

3. Hot and Steamy or Soft and Tender?

SOFT AND TENDER. AND ALSO KIND OF STEAMY.

4. How did they first meet?

sten slapped him with a fish

James just straight up walks into Sten's shop, steals something, and then decided to pay for it instead of threatening Sten with an island-wide boycott because he thought Sten was cute and, dare I say, ballsy to deny him his knick-knacks.

5. What is their love language?

These two cannot communicate clearly if their lives depended on it so they're like bower birds. Acts of service.....gift giving.....physical affection......Very much sending each other pictures "You" and turning the car AC down/up when they know the other's going to use it the next day.

6. When did they realize they loved each other?

Like, after three to five years of dating. In their defense, they only saw each other a grand total of like maybe 7 months during that time.

7. Who is more sentimental?

THAT'S HARD like the obvious choice is James. But honestly, I think it's Sten. He's very much house-husband "I miss my wife" sorta guy. James is too busy committing acts of terror and piracy on the Navy to focus on sentimentality.

8. What’s one way their personalities compliment one another?

James is super outgoing and charismatic so he drags Sten out to the taverns and parties and absorbs him into his circle of friends. Sten's more practical and pessimistic so honestly he keeps James from killing himself and also acting out various plans that will kill him.

9. How are their personalities different?

Have you ever heard of Bo Burnham's Left Brain, Right Brain? That's basically them.

10. What are some non-sexual activities they do together?

Look...........................James absolutely loves trying to teach Sten how to dance. It's his (secondary) life goal to get Sten to do a decent ceili or salsa before he dies. 

J2:

11. Which member is more physically affectionate?

Both! They're a menace to polite society!

Really tho, James is the cuddler and Abel's the idle hands wanderer.

12. Which member is more verbally affectionate?

Again, both, but in different ways. Abel kind of comes off as condescending because he's always shortening James' name to other nicknames/"be a doll" sort of quips, but James loves it. James is more "sweetheart"/"darling"/"dearest" and he really does his best to let Abel know how much he loves him (since his parents never did).

13. Which member steals borrows the other ones clothing?

James. Abel cannot fit in James' clothes for the life of him, but he HAS taken a crop top from time 2 time.

14. Are they an introverted couple or an extroverted one—AKA would they prefer to go out to a party or event together or would they rather stay in?

Oh extroverted absolutely. Naval parties were their FAVORITE they could gather gossip and then wander off and just talk trash about everyone (and GET trashed).

15. Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

...........Sten.

But no really, if I HAD to pick one, I would say James was the more impulsive with Abel being more the voice of reason, but Abel is also extremely impulsive too. Unfortunately, he doesn't consider James a voice of reason.

16. Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

Abel. He's a #gamer and James has to physically sit in his lap and fall asleep before Abel decides it's bedtime. Even in canon, while James is an insomniac currently, he wasn't when he and Abel were together. Abel's insomnia was always present and just got worse when they broke up; he needs a warm body to snuggle up against before he can fall asleep.

17. Who fell in love first?

Hang on I need to go rewatch my animatic to remember.

Okay, I'm going to say Abel. James falls quickly, yes, but man if James wasn't the first person Abel actually felt seen by. He was probably head-over-heels for James before he even realized it and made a jerk of himself at first because of it, but like. He really did truly love him. He definitely proposed.

18. What song fits them perfectly?

Oh there could be so many. What era? What point of their relationship? Is Sten included in there?

19. How do they deal with being away from each other for a long time?

All out of Tears Z Berg for James @ Abel a few years after James defects.

Wildflowers Caged Animals for Abel @ James years after that when he sees James successfully out of the game.

Scorpio Autoheart for both of them tbh

Burn Down This City Felix Hagan & the Family

Wolves Selena Gomez and Marshmello

20. Who holds a grudge the longest?

They're both horrible people. Abel tho. Absolutely Abel.

21. Which of the two is quick to speak and which one is quick to listen?

NEITHER OF THEM LISTENS THAT'S WHY THEY BROKE UP THE FIRST TIME!! THEY'RE BOTH TOO UP THEIR OWN VERSIONS OF SELF RIGHTEOUSNESS THAT THEY CAN'T FATHOM A WORLD WHERE THEY'RE IN THE WRONG!!!!!!!! I'M CONSTANTLY HAUNTED BY THEIR POOR CHOICES AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!