#slightly homophobic James

[impishtubist]

🤔 Would Peter use James' slight homophobia to drive a further wedge between James and Sirius and Remus, then? (He just wants James all to himself,)

Oh 100%. And I don't really think it's that calculated, either! If James is slightly homophobic (due to pureblooded upbringing/it's the '70s in Britain), then I think Peter is the same way if not more so. So Peter's feelings are genuine! But yes he absolutely uses it to drive a wedge between Sirius & Remus and James, and then finally, finally he has James all to himself.

It isn't enough. He thought it would be enough and it isn't. Because he can tell he doesn't have all of James the way that Sirius and Remus do, and even with them out of the picture, he will never have all of James. And if Peter can't have James, no one can, so then he betrays the family to Voldemort and they die, the end.

[nocturnal-phantoms-fandoms]

wolfstar gets together after hogwarts. one time either sirius or james throw a party in their flat and james walks in on them making out in the kitchen.

he avoids them for the rest of the evening, trying to wrap his head around that, and the next day jokingly ask sirius how much did he drink - implying he must have been shit faced drunk and had no idea who he was kissing. (maybe sirius was indeed a bit drunk and for a second gets anxious if he did kiss someone other than remus)

after he realises james is referring to remus, sirius tries to relax. play it cool. very calmly he says: "oh yeah, we are dating. been meaning to tell you"

"that's not funny"

"what?"

"you're joking, but that's not funny"

"why would I joke about that?" sirius's composure starts to crumble. "remus is our best mate. I know what he means to you and you know what he means to me"

james has a look of uncertain disgust on his face.

"clearly i dont"

brought to you by nyx and @hiddenmoonbeam thanks to @impishtubist's slightly homophobic james™ chaos night

[joanquill]

How Touching

How Albert would react to a reader who doesn't like physical intimacy at first in the modern era.

Albert James Moriarty

A/N: Sorry for the long absence, a lot has happened and writer's block has made a home in my head rent-free at this point it's almost homophobic :) (as you can probably tell with this one so advanced apologies!) late happy pride month! 💕🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Tag/s: One-Shot with Headcanons, Modern!AU, Long (2.2k words)

Warning/s: Slightly Suggestive(???)

When you first joined the Moriartys with their plan to abolish the class system, the group welcomed you with open arms.

Quite literally with how Bonde tried to hug you as a greeting.

You evaded him smoothly, surprising the man and the others.

But you explained how you were uncomfortable with physical touch, and everyone respected your boundaries.

Despite the awkward start, everyone still welcomed you.

And as time passed, you slowly grew closer to everyone in the group.

But especially with the oldest Moriarty, seeing as your job usually involved assisting him.

Whether being his partner on missions or attending parties with the rich, you two are usually seen together.

It also doesn't help that you were mostly in charge of maintaining the manor in London when Louis and Master Jack were away.

Because of this, you also tend to stay with him in London while William and the others are back in Durham.

This leads to you and Albert sharing chores in London.

While Albert is a master when it comes to cleaning, you always make sure he's nowhere near the kitchen or at least have you there to supervise.

The first time you tried his cooking, you were out of commission for three days.

Because of how much time you spend together, you two started to get closer.

And this didn't go unnoticed by your housemates.

"(Y/N), have you seen my-?"

"-It's in your coat pocket," 

"And the-?"

"-It's already in your suitcase,"

"And did you already inform-?"

"-Yes, Director Holmes is aware of your return to London tonight," you answered as you showed him the email you sent to the director.

Albert chuckled as he loosened his collar, "What would I do without you?"

You smirked at his remark as you fixed his loosened collar and necktie.

"Well, aren't you just a perfect match," Sebastian commented from the couch, watching you two blankly.

You froze at his words as you turned away, making sure your expression remained neutral. 

"It's almost freaky, to be honest..." he shuddered, making you chuckle.

"Don't you have a chimney to sweep, colonel?" Albert reminded, earning a glare from Sebastian as the doors burst open, Bonde running inside the room.

"You're really leaving already? We planned to go to that new restaurant this afternoon," Bonde asked as he walked in, seeing you and Albert grabbing your coats.

"Yes... The director suddenly called saying it was an urgent matter, so our plans will have to be rescheduled," you explained, much to Bonde's disappointment.

You smiled softly at him as you gave him a gentle hug.

"Don't worry, I'm sure we can go there some other time," you reassured as you pulled away, seeing a shocked expression from the three men.

"...What?"

"You hugged him..." Sebastian pointed out, making you raise a brow and smile.

"Yes, and what about it?" you teased, hugging Bonde again, surprising them for a second time.

"What the-?!"

"Awww, (N/N)!" Bonde smiled as he hugged you back tightly, cherishing the moment as you laughed.

"No way..." Sebastian breathed out a smile, "To think Bonde would be the first..." he smirked, looking over to Albert, who held a faux smile as he walked up to you and Bonde.

"(Y/N), I believe it is about time for us to leave?" he reminded, making you gasp.

"Right! I'll go call a cab," you hurriedly walked out of the manor, hoping you wouldn't miss the last train back to London.

Sebastian laughed wholeheartedly as the door behind you closed, hitting Albert's back while Bonde kept a hand over his mouth, hiding a proud smile from the oldest Moriarty.

"Didn't expect you to be the possessive type!" Sebastian snickered, making Albert lightly scoff and swatted Sebastian's hand.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Albert denied as he grabbed the bags.

"(Y/N) is a reliable comrade to all of us,"

"Then why don't you let them stay in Durham with us?"

"Because their skills are needed in London,"

"But what if William asks them to stay with us?"

"Then there's no helping it, I suppose,"

"Oh?" William's voice cut through, catching everyone's attention.

"Then you finally agree to have (Y/N) stay with us for this weekend?" he asked, but Albert stayed silent as he kept facing away from the group.

"You seemed quite adamant about having them join you back to London mere moments ago when we were discussing in my office," William added, making Albert sigh as Sebastian and Bonde grinned from ear to ear.

"My, my, Al. How unprofessional," Bonde teased as he tried to see Albert's face, now contorted in irritation as he kept his smile.

"It seems (Y/N)'s skills are needed here in Durham more than in London," Sebastian added, wrapping an arm around Albert's shoulders,

"Such a shame..."

William chuckled as he walked up to the group, giving Albert a piece of paper.

"Here are the details for your and (Y/N)'s next mission in London. It seems (Y/N) is more needed in London after all," William innocently smiled, making Albert sigh.

"...I will make sure to visit again next week with them,"

"Thank you, Nii-san. And do not worry about (Y/N)'s affections," William commented, perking Albert's ears.

"I'm certain they also consider you one of their closest companions. But you must be more proactive if you wish for them to see you as something more," he reassured the oldest Moriarty, catching everyone's attention.

"That is not-"

"-The cab's here!" you announced as you hurried back inside, seeing everyone gathering around Albert.

"...What? Do we have another meeting before leaving?" you questioned, making the others share a look as they left, saying their goodbyes as Albert walked up to you with your bags and coats.

"What were you discussing while I was gone?" you questioned as Albert gave you your coat and scarf.

"Just..." Albert replied, looking down at the paper William gave him,  "Have courage"  written on it, "... Just the details for our next mission," he smiled, pocketing the piece of paper as he helped you with your scarf, careful not to touch you.

"...I shall tell you later,"

During the trip back to London, you noticed Albert has grown quiet, deep in his thoughts.

As you tried to ignore the man's change of behavior, he suddenly called your name and asked what you thought of everyone in the group.

Confused by the sudden question, you shrugged it off and answered honestly, seeing everyone as a trusted companion, possibly even family.

"Really?"

"Yes. Don't you see me as one?" you jokingly asked, making Albert smile widely.

"...No, I cannot say the same," he answered, shocking you. You quickly turned to him and saw him looking at you with straightforward eyes.

"You may have started as one of my most trusted companions, but I never saw you as family," he explained, straightening himself up as he grabbed the end of your scarf.

"But as a lover," he clarified, gingerly kissing the end of your scarf as he kept his eyes on you.

After his declaration of love, the trip back to London felt excruciatingly long.

Nonetheless, you admitted you felt the same you both agreed to take it slow.

Albert was a true gentleman in the whole relationship, making sure you were comfortable with everything.

He makes sure to spend time with you, whether it's just at home or out on a date, giving you gifts, and words of reassurance.

He would never make you feel you were lacking or guilty about taking the relationship slow.

He also never tried to touch you or force himself on you.

He might feel jealous whenever you and others hug, such as Bonde, Fred, or your close friends, but he won't force you to do the same to him.

"You will be gone for three weeks?" you repeated in disbelief as Albert nodded dejectedly.

"Yes, which is why we discussed that you should stay in Durham with the others in the meantime,"

"I see... If that's the case, I need to see some things before I leave," you muttered, trying to plan your sudden leave as you looked around the manor.

Albert breathed out a laugh as he let out a dramatic sigh, catching your attention.

"How cold... And I thought you would miss me more," he teased, opening one eye at you with a playful smile.

You scoffed as you walked up to him, cradling his cheek.

"You will be coming back home to me after, are you not?" you questioned, making him smirk.

"Always," he reassured, taking your gloved hand and kissing your knuckles.

You smiled as you interlocked your fingers with his, clasping it.

"Then I have nothing to worry about,"

"(N/N)!" Bonde beamed as he ran up to you, giving you a hug as he squeezed you tightly.

You giggled as you hugged him back, returning the same affection.

"You should go on more overnight trips, Al," Bonde joked, making Albert roll his eyes with a smile as he put on his hat.

"Next time, I shall bring (Y/N) with me," Albert mused, kissing your gloved hand again.

"Take care, Albert-nii-san," Louis smiled as Albert waved goodbye to everyone.

"Goodbye,"

"Take your time~,"

"Be careful...!" you warned, sighing at the memory of Albert returning home in a bloody uniform.

"Aww... Miss him already?" Bonde teased with a toothy grin, making you scoff and lightly push him off.

"Come on... I remember Louis saying we're doing some spring cleaning in the manor?" you reminded, making Bonde and Sebastian freeze. 

"Oi! Keep your mouth shut...!" Sebastian shouted in a whisper as he grabbed your head, making you grin.

"That's right..." Louis started, a dark glimmer shining from his glasses, "I hope you two are done with your portions?"

It's been two weeks since Albert's trip, and he has been calling you every night and leaving short, sweet texts throughout the day.

But, you couldn't help but feel uneasy.

"Hey, (Y/N)!" Sebastian called out, snapping you out of it.

"Y-Yes?"

"William's calling everyone for a meeting," he reminded, raising a brow at you.

"What's wrong with you?" he questioned, making you shake your head.

"It's nothing," you faked a smile as you walked ahead, unsure if it was a topic you could bring up to the man.

As you walked ahead, Sebastian couldn't help but let out a sigh as he followed you along.

"Lovebirds... What a pain,"

"Well! This is new," Bonde smiled as he swirled his martini while Sebastian downed his third whiskey for the night.

"I didn't think you would be the type to offer free drinks, (N/N),"

"I'm not," you sighed, nursing your cup of water, "But I would like to talk to you both in private..." you muttered, looking around your booth for any familiar faces or peeking heads.

"Since you two seem the most... acquainted with this subject..." you added, fiddling your fingers as you stared down at your drink.

Sebastian raised a brow while Bonde furrowed his brows, looking at each other as if trying to figure out what you were alluding to.

"So... What is it?" Bonde asked, taking a sip of his drink while Sebastian tried to catch the attention of a nearby server.

You felt your face burn as you took a deep breath, gathering up all of the courage you had.

"How do you know when's the right time to be physical with your partner?" you asked in one quick breath with your eyes shut.

Sebastian froze while Bonde choked on his drink, making him cough.

"A-Are you all right, sir?" the server Sebastian called asked Bonde, who dismissed him.

"Y-Yes... I'm fine," Bonde coughed as you tried to give him your drink while Sebastian asked the server to just bring more whiskey.

"Thanks..." Bonde sighed, clearing his throat as he looked at you.

"(Y/N), by... physical, you mean...?" Sebastian asked in a hushed tone as he and Bonde leaned to you across the table.

You felt your face flush as you looked away, hiding behind your hands.

"L-Like kissing, and such..." you clarified, stunning the two men.

They both sighed as Sebastian leaned back in his seat with a hand over his eyes while Bonde had his face in his hands.

"That's what you meant..."

'It'll come naturally, huh...'  you thought, remembering your conversation with Bonde and Sebastian.

You sighed as you focused on your chores and hoped for the best, just as they advised.

As you fixed the dinner table, you heard the front doors open, making you gasp and look back.

"I'm back," Albert announced, wearily putting away his coat.

You instinctively ran out of the dining room and to the entrance.

As Albert caught sight of you, he immediately smiled as you kept running up to him.

"(Y/N), I found-" you wrapped your arms around him tightly, sighing as your body eased up at his warmth.

Albert, on the other hand, was stunned as you kept hugging him.

"(Y/N)...?" he called out as he hovered an arm around you.

You breathed out a smile as you looked up at him, squeezing him lightly,

"Welcome back," you greeted as you cupped his cheeks, kissing his lips.

Albert blinked in surprise before wrapping his arms around you, deepening the kiss.

When you pulled back, you felt Albert leaning to you before opening his eyes, and smiling at you.

"I missed you too,"

[iycedrem]

This might be slightly conspiratorial, but after watching both Hbomb's and Todd's videos on James Somerton, I wonder if part of the reason Hbomb asked Todd to wait to upload his video was so Hbomb could take the brunt of any backlash.

Hbomb mentions that James's fans have a tendency to label his detractors as homophobic harrasers.

Hbomb (assumingly deliberately) layers a lot of jokes and off hand comments about his bisexuality through out the first half of the video. Effectively neutering that go to defense.

By the time Todd's video hit the site, James's credibility was basically nonexistent and fans jumping to his defense are most likely focusing on Hbomb.

Like I said, might just be reading to much into it, but I like the idea of Hbomb looking out for Todd like that.

[evesaintyves]

so in the allegedly non-homophobic spirit of this cursed genre of post (which, props to this one for at least saying the quiet part loud: that these criticisms are exclusively directed toward queer pairings), and inspired by a prompt of sorts from fandom gem @saintsenara -

i wrote some platonic jily and i completely agree, they're better as friends.

never mind the prosecco, here's the potter-malfoy-potter-blacks

Rated M | Jily, Narlily, Jegulus, Drarry | AU - everyone lives and it's like 2010 | tw choking, pussy juice, eggs

Three things occurred to Lily, leaning back on the island of cool italian marble in the fuck-off big kitchen of this ridiculous house: one, that she had no idea where all this was coming from, as James had never given a single fuck in his life about womens' Quidditch; two, that even three decades after they'd split up he was still obviously desperate for her to think he was cool; and three, that he was burning Regulus's eggs.

"So what the Harpies have done," he patiently explained as if she was listening, "is create a turn-based system for rotating positions—so every player has experience with beating, seeking, and so on—that way everyone's aware of the weak points—" he seemed to catch on that she wasn't making eye-contact, and tossed his mop of silvering hair. "The Weasley girl was on the Wireless about it this morning. Really inspiring."

He turned back to the crispy eggs and stirred them vigourously. They made a sort of crackling noise.

"I guess I'm just not sure why you're telling me," Lily said, taking the moment to finally do what she'd come to the kitchen for: grabbing a fresh bottle of prosecco from the fridge.

"Well, it's incredible what these girls are coming up with. 'The future is female,' I saw that on someone's shirt the other day."

He glanced eagerly at her over his shoulder.

"Cool," she said.

"Never mind the prosecco," Narcissa drawled, sweeping into the kitchen in her marabou-feather gown. "Draco's popped a button on his robes, so he'll be calling any moment."

"Do you mend buttons?" James asked with genuine interest.

Narcissa made an appalled face and gathered the lapels of her robe together.

"Have you not finished?" Regulus said sourly, coming down the stairs. Looking directly at Lily, he added, "This kitchen has smelled like a crematorium ever since you let Boopsy go."

Lily - still on the defensive after all these years! - crossed her arms and replied, "I didn't 'let her go,' she was legally emancipated and got a job at Pret a Manger."

Regulus waved a hand in the air, making the slight haze of egg-smoke swirl prettily in the light. "It's political correctness gone mad," he muttered.

Inexplicably, James got one of his big simpy grins, beckoned Regulus over, and smacked a kiss on his pale brow.

Draco apparated into their midst with a pop and instantly recoiled at the sight of them.

"Potters," he spat, by way of greeting. "Er—" he nodded to Regulus, whose name he could never seem to remember. Narcissa glided over and took his face in her hands.

"Oh, darling, come here, I've been waiting all morning to see you."

Lily, concerned she might not be effectively controlling her facial expression, turned to slot the prosecco bottle back into the fridge. Narcissa had actually spent most of the morning sprawled on her back with her thighs squishing the sides of Lily's face.

Draco squirmed slightly under his mother's hands. "It's all the buttons under the third one," he said gruffly, thrusting an armful of jacquard robes at Narcissa.

"Sweet boy," Narcissa cooed, "I'll send it out to the tailor immediately. How ever did you manage to break them?"

With another pop, Harry apparated into the room.

"Hi Mum," he said. "Dad. Hi Cissa and Reg."

James disentangled his arms from Regulus's and clapped Harry on the back. "Wha gwan, son?" he roared happily, and even with his back turned Lily could see Harry's shoulders cringe.

"I told you—" Draco began through his teeth.

"You were taking forever," Harry shrugged.

"I'm glad you're here," James said, very serious furrows appearing in his brow. "I was just listening to that bird you used to go out with on the wireless—"

"Oh!" Narcissa exclaimed, still petting Draco's face. "Darling, will you show everyone the trick you taught me last week?" To the room: "You'll all want to see this, it's marvellous. Draco's enchanted a mirror to do something incredible."

Draco sighed defeatedly. To Harry, he said, "Let me see your phone."

Harry pulled a slim black piece of glass out of his pocket, and, with a sideways glance at Lily, tapped and swiped at it with his fingers a few times before handing it to Draco.

"This mirror," Narcissa was saying, "quite remarkable, really—all you do is push a button on it, and a horrible little muggle comes to your door and brings you a prawn fettucine. Draco, please—" she scrabbled at the glass in his hand. "—will you push the fettucine button for mummy?"

"It's called Seamless, Mother," Draco mumbled, and just as he did Narcissa pulled a face and slid her finger round the collar of her son's shirt.

"Draco," she said, with a kind of horror rising in her voice, "What's happened to your neck? Is it dirt—?"

A flush instantly came to Draco's face and Harry twisted round from his one-sided conversation with James to give Draco a rather pointed look.

"Mother, stop, it's nothing," he said, pulling away. And on Harry's face was a look Lily had seen on James a thousand times, back in their day: like he was trying, but not particularly hard, not to look smug.

James's eyes shifted between Harry and Draco and he seemed, bless him, to finally clock what was going on. He pulled Harry by the shoulder to the other side of the kitchen and began to speak to him in hushed tones.

"You want to put all the pressure on the sides, not the front," he was saying.

Regulus went and scraped his ruined eggs into the bin, obviously eavesdropping, then put the pan back on the stove without shutting off the flame. The tang of hot metal began to compete with the crematorium smell and Lily wondered if anyone would notice if she got the prosecco back out and necked it.

"Regulus," she sighed. "Anything new with you?"

Regulus looked startled to be spoken to.

"Not really," he said, eyes shifting round the room. "I don't actually have all that much going on, canonically."

"Can—what?"

"Do you know how to make eggs?" he said hopefully.

"I think I've a salve for that," Narcissa was telling Draco, leading him by the hand into the suite she shared with Lily. "Well, it's more of an eye cream, but it's done absolute wonders for me—"

"You can do real damage to the trachea that way," James was explaining to Harry, demonstrating with a cupped hand to his neck.

"I work in Magical Law Enforcement," Harry deadpanned. "I think I know how to fucking choke someone."

Regulus emitted the strangely high-pitched giggle Lily was always hearing from inside the cup-strewn, bleach-smelling lair he shared with James.

"Why does it smell like—" Draco stopped in Lily and Narcissa's doorway. With narrowed eyes, he hissed to his mother, "I thought you were all in some sort of... like, queerplatonic... situation...?"

James's brow got those furrows again.

"What's queerplatonic?" he whispered to Lily.

"It means nobody fucks," she whispered back.

James squared his shoulders and took a step forward as if he might try to fight Draco.

---

"We raised a good kid," James would tell Lily later, after they'd put out the fire on the stove, slightly misty-eyed with nostalgia and the acrid smoke. "All of us," he'd add, with a nod toward Lily and Narcissa's side of the house, which was now perfumed rather pleasantly with a melange of prosecco, wet pussy and prawn fettucine.

"Yeah," Lily would say wistfully. "Shit taste in men, though."

"Well, it runs in the family." James would ruffle his hair, the way he tended to. After a pause, he'd venture: "And I daresay you and I had a pretty good run, didn't we?"

Lily would tip the bottle up and drain the last of the prosecco at that. James would hold out his hand, and she'd pass him the empty bottle. He'd try to take a drink, then bin it with a disgruntled look.

"It was all right," she'd say.

[elephantshoetoo]

So, I wrote this little miwi flashback scene today. I plan to use it in The Byler Files somewhere, but I don't know where yet. Probably Vol.4.

(*warning: contains a homophobic slur.)

May 7th, 1979,

The schoolyard at Hawkins Elementary…

(It's morning recess. After staying back to talk to his teacher about a late homework assignment, 8-year-old Mike Wheeler exits the building with Miss Drew to find his best friend Will huddled in a corner, his legs pulled up to his chest, quietly crying into his knees. Mike rushes over to him, alarmed.)

MIKE: Will! What happened?! Are you okay? Why… why are you crying?

(The teacher catches up and bends down to check on him.)

MISS DREW: Will…? Honey? Can you tell me what happened?

(Will shakes his head and pulls himself in tighter.)

MIKE: Are you sick? Are you hurt?

(Still not looking up, he shakes his head again. Mike rubs his back, concerned.)

MISS DREW: Sweetie, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong…

(Will doesn't respond. He squeezes his legs like he's trying to fold in on himself and disappear.)

MIKE (to the teacher): I… I can probably get him to talk… (Nodding, she mouths, “Okay,” and continues watching them.) Um… alone.

MISS DREW: Oh. Alright. (She hesitates, but decides it's probably the best course of action.) Well, let me know if he needs anything, okay?

MIKE: Yes, ma’am.

(Once she's gone, Mike puts his arms around Will and holds him tight, rocking slightly to comfort him. He softly hums the tune of “I Want You to Want Me” by Cheap Trick. When he feels Will start to loosen up, Mike pulls back to see if he'll talk yet.)

MIKE (softly): Will? Are you okay? What happened?

WILL (sniffling, into his knees): It's… it's nothing. It's stupid.

MIKE: Hey, it's not nothing if it upsets you… You can tell me.

(Will sighs and leans into Mike, whose arm is still cradled around his back.)

MIKE: Please…?

WILL: Okay… (Mike soothingly strokes Will's hair, waiting patiently for him to feel safe enough to open up. Will tilts his head slightly and peeks up at Mike. He's greeted with an encouraging smile and relaxes a bit more. Gathering his thoughts, Will starts to talk, slowly at first, his words tinged with shame.) James and Troy were… were calling me names again. And… and everybody laughed.

MIKE: Oh.

(Mike looks out at the schoolyard. A few groups of kids are still hovering nearby, glancing at them and whispering. Mike sends them a piercing scowl and they quickly disperse.)

MIKE: What did they call you?

WILL: Troy said his dad told him I'm a… a…

(Will tears up a bit and hides his face again.)

MIKE (gently coaxing): A what?

WILL (cringing): A… a disguting… f*ggot…?

MIKE: Oh. (He looks down, wincing, then purses his lips and resolves to make Will feel better.) Well… it doesn't matter what they think. They're a bunch of stinky dunderheads anyway. (Will chuckles sadly for a brief moment.) I mean, they even waited until Lucas was home sick and I… (regretfully) wasn't here. They're total cowards.

WILL: I know, but… it's not just them – everybody thinks it. Even my dad.

MIKE: R-really…?

WILL (looking down): Yeah.

MIKE: Well… I don't.

(Will gazes over at Mike, overwhelmingly relieved to hear this.)

WILL: Y-you don't?

MIKE: No! I could never think anything bad about you. You're… you're perfect, Will.

WILL (quietly): No, I'm not.

MIKE: I think you are…

WILL: Really…?

MIKE: Yeah. Really.

WILL: But… what if it turns out they're right?

MIKE: They're NOT!

WILL: But, what if… what if they are? Would… would you still like me?

MIKE: Will. (Mike holds Will's face between his hands and peers resolutely into his eyes. He speaks gently but insistently.) I would still love you.

(A flash of joy lights up Will's whole face.)

WILL: Y-you would?

MIKE: Yeah! Of course. You're my best friend. (He squeezes Will's hand reassuringly.) Nothing could ever change that, okay?

(Fresh tears slip down Will's cheeks. He gives Mike a small, grateful smile, rubbing his thumb over Mike's knuckles for comfort.)

WILL: Okay.

(Mike tenderly caresses Will's face, wiping away his tears, then pulls him against his chest, kissing the top of his head. Holding Will securely in his arms, Mike's heart glows with a sparkly kind of warmth.)

WILL: Mike…?

MIKE: Yeah?

WILL: D’you know a f*ggot is…?

MIKE: No… D-do you?

WILL (shrugging): I dunno. Something horrible and gross, I think. It… it sounds like… some kind of… monstrous garden slug, maybe...?

MIKE (laughing): Well, you're definitely not that!

WILL (also laughing): No, I guess not.

(Mike gives Will one last comforting hug before they stand up and, hand in hand, head over to swings. Watching them from the school steps, Miss Drew smiles to herself.)

(END SCENE)

*The Byler Files, vol 1 and 2, and the first half of vol. 3 are all on AO3, under the name ElephantShoe.

Okay, now I seriously need to get back to the story I'm supposed to be working on.

(Procrastination -- the best way to get something *else* done. Am I right?)

[uhhlifeig]

ABOUT ME!

Hey, y'all! I'm Emi, my pronouns are she/they, and I'm bi. This is a safe space for everyone!!

I am in the Marauders, PJO, HP, RWRB, and HOO fandoms (former DSMP fan, would always love to discuss).

My fave musicians rn are Måneskin, Derivakat, and Conan Gray.

Fave painting is Gathering Storm bc not only does it have LORE, it's also just really pretty.

I AM A MINOR. DO NOT SEND WEIRD MESSAGES. ALSO, PLEASE DON'T SPAM MY INBOX WITH DONATION REQUESTS.

Sirius and Regulus and Remus kinnie!

I play the piano and paint, and I write things sometimes.

MY PROMPTS LIST: HERE

MY AO3: SeaingStars (well, well, well. what do we have here? a shameless self advertisement.)

Go ahead! Take a read!

^Writer Evan is stalked by murderer Barty. Chase ensues.

^Slytherin Sirius and Gryffindor Remus have an illicit relationship. Sirius's parents find out, and stuff hits the fan.

^(ON AN INDEFINITE HIATUS, JULES IS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING RN) A longfic Jules and I are working on! updates every other Saturday. Gryffindor Regulus, no Peter exclusion, may actually increase update times bc I think it's too slow.

^A Ravenrock (Peter x Benjy) rivals to lovers fic, no Voldemort and also background Jily.

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Normal DNI, but I'll reiterate it. DNI if you're a homophobe, transphobe, TERF, against furries/therians, racist, sexist, support pedophilia/zoophilia, if you try to force your religion onto others, if you support Israel, if you're a JKR apologist, and if you support problematic people.

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[wizard-on-whales]

Acceptance

Angst and Fluff

You are James' daughter and you're struggling with yourself because you've recently come to the conclusion that you like women. But given James' past actions, you are terrified to tell him

Warnings: Angst, talk of homophobia, wlw, James acts like a deer in headlights

✭-----------------------------✭

You lay on your bed with your face buried into your pillow as your body wrecks out another sob. You didn't know how you were gonna tell him….or if you could. You knew your dad was a more “traditional” man and his reputation before you were born was not seen as an accepting one. Countless videos of him yelling slurs and saying other homophobic things could easily be found with the click of a button. So how the hell were you, his precious little girl, supposed to tell him you like women. Another sob escapes from your lips as you reach over and grab the lion plush he had given you years ago. It was his when he was younger and the smell of his cologne often lingered on it. You clutched it tightly like you did when you were a toddler, crying over nothing in particular. But this time you were crying over something huge, something that could determine your future and the relationship you had with your father going forward. As you curl into a ball and bring the lion to your chest, inhaling the familiar scent of your dad, there's a knock on your bedroom door.

“Dinners ready,” Your dad opens the door to tell you but his heart quickly clenches in his chest as he sees you curled up and crying. Despite the fact that you were almost 17, he still saw his little peanut, his little 5 year old girl who thought she could do anything.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart what's wrong,” He speaks quietly, stepping forward to sit on the edge of the bed. You quickly wipe away your tears and mumble a small “nothing” before trying to hide your mascara streaked face into your pillow.

“It's clearly not nothing baby, did something happen at school? Or did I do something? You've hardly talked to me the past few days,” He gently wipes a few strands of hair away from your face before resting his hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing back and forth to try and soothe you. Despite being upset over how he would react, the action did sooth you a little like it always had. Your heart jumps to your throat as he asks if it's his fault you're crying, you let out another sob, not being able to hold back. You felt awful about crying because of him and you felt guilty for not hiding it better.

“Is it something I did? You gotta tell me sweetheart so I can fix it,” He gives you a concerned look, clearly worried about how he fucked up if he upset you this much.

“I can't,” You sob quietly, trying to wipe your tears away as they fall quickly down your cheeks. He tries to help you wipe a few off your face but you get to them before he can. He rests his hand on your back, rubbing it slightly as he listens to your words.

“Why can't you tell me? I won't be mad or anything, baby, I promise,” His own eyes were glossy now as he helplessly watched his baby girl cry, clutching his old stuffy.

“You won't love me anymore,” You let out another full body sob as your words slip out, hiccups coming along with it as you bury your face back into your pillow. You hear your Dad let out a strand of “shhs” trying to calm you down as he attempts to pull you into his lap. He cradles you in his arms, his hand still rubbing your back as your tears stain his shirt.

“Why would you think that sweetheart?!? There's absolutely nothing you could do that would make me not love you. You're my whole world and I love you more than anything,” His own tears slip out of his eyes as he speaks, trying to calm you down. He tried so hard all your life to make you feel safe and loved, desperate for you to never have to feel like he did when he was a kid, but as he cradles your sobbing body he feels like he failed.

“I have a girlfriend,” You sob, your words muffled and quiet as you try to hide behind your lion stuffed animal. You feel and hear him let out a small chuckle as strokes your hair.

“Baby, why do you think I'd be so mad about you having a boyfriend,” Your heart jumps to your throat as he says boyfriend, clearly having misheard you.

“No! Girlfriend,” You lift your face away from him so that he can hear you as you cut him off. You see his face drop as he registered what you said. You push away from him, crawling back to your spot on your bed with your back turned to him. He stays quiet for far too long and with each second that passes the more you feel anxiety pooling in you. His hand gently rests on your shoulder again, causing you to jerk at first.

“Honey…I know I've, well…I-I don't really know what to say,” He says quietly, his voice defeated. A few more silent tears rolling down your cheeks as you fear the worst.

“You don't have to say anything,” You mumble, your hands fiddling with each other as you pick at the skin around your fingernails.

“No, I do have to say something. You're clearly upset over this. I know I haven't always been the greatest person…especially when I was younger but I'm willing to change that, especially for you sweetheart. I-well...I don't know much about, uhm…gay stuff…But if you give me a chance I can try,” He stutters over his words, clearly trying to find the right thing to say as he attempts to comfort you. He pushes your shoulder down so that you're on your back and facing him. He gives you a small smile, wiping more tears off of your face.

“What's her name?” He asks you for your girlfriend's name. The small action causes a smile to form on your face as he seems genuinely interested in knowing. He gives you another soft smile back as you tell him her name.

“She plays guitar like you,” You say quietly, looking away from him and continuing to fiddle with your fingers. He grabs your hand to stop you, knowing you have a bad habit of picking your skin when you're nervous.

“Yeah? I bet she's not as good as me though,” He jokes, trying to get a laugh out of you. You smile again, hitting him on the shoulder.

“She's better,” He pretends to act offended by that, clutching his hand over his heart and letting out a fake sob.

“How dare you,” He fake cries, trying to hold back a smile as you let out a small laugh. He looks back at you, wiping the excess tears off of your face.

“There is absolutely nothing you can do that will ever make me not love you, okay? Don't ever forget that,” He leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead as he speaks gently. You nod your head in understandment.

“Now c'mon, we don't want dinner to get cold. Maybe you can invite her over next time,” He stands up from the edge of your bed and holds his hand out to help you up. You take it and peel yourself out of your sheets, following him downstairs to see whenever monstrosity he's made for dinner this time.

✭-----------------------------✭

[mc-i-r]

Disposable Heroes

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four Ao3

A/N: Guys, I’m so sorry for the late update! Life has been crazy for me the past couple weeks but I hope that I can get back to writing more regularly. This chapter is the well-awaited Eddie pov, as well as a ton of backstory for him that I didn’t really plan on but it just kinda came out. This chapter is kinda rushed, I’m gonna be honest, but I wanted to get it out to you guys as soon as possible since its been awhile. There are gonna be some major warnings here so I’ll post them below. Take care of yourselves and stay safe, now enjoy!

Tw: homophobia, homophobic language, child abuse, domestic violence, referenced drug use, Eddie being incredibly gay

———

It’s a muggy Sunday morning, the summer sun burning through the last vestiges of chilled night air and frosted dewdrops as it rises from its slumber. Like the sun, Eddie rises as well. However, it’s with much less fanfare and grace due to the obnoxious pounding at his front door.

He groans dramatically, shoving his face in his pillow and willing whoever the fuck decided to bother him at—he glances at his alarm clock on the other side of the room, squinting to read the numbers—nine in the morning to go away. His wish must have pissed off some universal god because the knocking only gets louder, making the window above his desk rattle with every shake of the door.

With a sigh big enough to rival the windy intro of “Holy Diver”, he pulls himself to the door in a zombie-like state. Movements sluggish from his interrupted sleep, he misses the doorknob twice before finally turning it, throwing it open with newfound strength to find one Robin Buckley in all her glory. Her fist is raised and ready to knock again, her face the epitome of righteous fury as she glares at him.

“Uh, hey Buck. Whatcha doi—“ he begins, only to be interrupted by Robin shoving past him and barging into the trailer. He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face and pulling on his hair slightly before shutting the door.

Kids and their manners nowadays.

“Yeah, sure, come on in. Totally fine. I wasn’t sleeping or anything, noooo,” he says to himself before turning to face his intruder. Whatever Buckley is upset about seems serious, and from the icy look she’s giving him it also seems like it’s his fault. Her hands are on her hips like she’s in a Steve Harrington impersonation contest and plans on taking home a first place prize. Something in him squirms at the thought.

But, he is nothing if not a performer. So, of course, he puts on a show.

“Lady Buckley,” he declares in a posh British accent, bowing deeply with a flourish on his arm. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this fine morning?”

He’s expecting a fond eye roll, or a laugh, or huff, or something. He gets silence.

“Cut the bullshit, Eddie. We need to talk about Steve,” she demands.

Steve… Now isn’t that an interesting subject?

Now, Eddie has always been different. He was loud, and jumpy, and fidgety, and the other kids never wanted to be friends with him because they were scared. He was always covered in dirt, always barefoot because he either forgot to put on shoes or the ones he had were too small for his ever-changing feet. He would talk to himself, mutter little reminders under his breath or work through the questions plaguing his mind aloud because he just functioned better that way.

Then, at eleven, he found out just how different he really was. He was outside during recess when he fell off the monkey bars and scraped his hands and knees. He huddled on the ground, tears falling down his small cheeks because it hurt and his wounds felt like they were throbbing. Then a boy, James, ran up to him and asked him if he was okay. James had stark blond hair, a face full of freckles, and bright green eyes. He looked so concerned for Eddie, and was gentle when he picked up one of his hands to inspect the cuts littered there. It was that gentle touch that elicited a flutter of butterflies in his stomach, and ever since then Eddie knew.

When he had gotten home to the trailer that day, he felt confused. Other people in his class were constantly talking about who they “liked”; boys liking girls and girls liking boys. About how they would get all nervous around their crushes, and Eddie realized he had never felt that before. All of the girls in his class were just… girls to him. They never gave him that fluttery feeling James had. But… no one ever talked about boys liking boys. No one ever said if it was okay, so Eddie thought it must not be. That boys liking boys wasn’t okay. That he wasn’t okay.

It took awhile, but he finally confessed to Wayne that he liked boys, that he got all the little butterflies that boys were supposed to get about girls. Wayne shook his head and told him that he could feel butterflies for anyone he pleased, as long as they made him happy. They both cried that night, and ended up in a hug so tight they nearly fused together.

Since then, Eddie’s come to accept the fact that he’s gay. Has added it to his whole anti-conformist persona, even. So when high school hit he let himself finally be free. He joined Hellfire club, made friends with the upperclassmen who ran it, and learned all the intricacies of D&D that he never imagined he would. After two years, he met Gareth and Jeff who joined Hellfire much in the way he did. Then, Grant joined halfway through Eddie’s junior year and he quickly recruited him as well. He found his friends, his people, and he finally let himself be himself around them.

He told them he was gay after a long session of lazily practicing in Gareth’s garage and smoking, the weed having loosened both his limbs and his lips. They were all extremely chill with it, even after the weed had worn off. That, however, didn’t exempt them from making fun of him though.

Eddie was loitering in the hallway after school, waiting on Gareth to finish up a quiz he missed the week prior, when none other than Steve Harrington walked out of the pool room in nothing but those little speedos that leave zero to the imagination. Seriously, all those girls were right, holy shit. After he picked his jaw up off the floor, he noticed Steve was looking at him with that adorable little confused puppy look before a god damned smirk fell across his face. Eddie’s face, he knew, had to rival that of a Victorian nobleman fawning over a sliver of pale skin shown by a lady across the room with her face hidden by an elaborate fan because he was literally drooling for the man in front of him.

It got considerably worse when Steve leaned down to drink from a nearby water fountain, making Eddie’s mouth go completely dry with this blatant offering of ass right in his face. In hindsight, it might not have been an offering, per say, but it was definitely there and Eddie was definitely staring. So it really wasn’t a surprise that he jumped when Gareth tapped his shoulder, Eddie having not heard him come up behind him, and he turned on his heel so fast he’s surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

“Dude, you good?” Gareth asked. Eddie opened his mouth, squeaked out, “I’m fine” and immediately felt his face go up in flames. Gareth glanced over Eddie’s shoulder and he could see in slow motion the series of thoughts that crossed his mind. Gareth went from concerned to confused to understanding to smug so fast it was almost comical. When their eyes met, Eddie’s went wide.

“Don’t you dare say a word,” he hissed, and the smug look only intensified.

Once they got to his van, Gareth immediately rounded on him.

“Seriously? Steve Harrington?” Gareth teased. “Of all people, it had to be that douche?”

Eddie groaned and clenched his eyes shut. “I know, Garebear, now shut up before I push you out of the van.”

Of course, news about his little crush spread around his friend group like wildfire, and soon enough he was being teased by them relentlessly. Eddie knew his crush wouldn’t get very far, Steve was very clearly straight and in a happy relationship with Nancy Wheeler of all people. Still, Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about that smirk.

Just as his crush began to fade away, Steve showed up to school with a busted face and eye bags deep enough to rival shitty vampire Halloween make-up from a toddlers costume contest. Feelings came rushing back, the intense need to protect, to find out what happened and get justice for that pretty face.

Then it kept happening, and Steve showed up to school with a beat up face yet again. However, judging by his stumbling and droopy eyes, it came with a concussion this time. Just when Eddie was trying to figure out who did it, Billy Hargrove came stalking through the empty halls and all attention was focused on his scabbed knuckles. On the hungry glare he sent Steve’s way. On the way Steve shrank back a little on instinct.

And Eddie… Eddie just couldn’t leave well enough alone, now could he?

He walked up to Steve, brows furrowed. “Harrington?”

Harrington didn’t turn, eyes still focused on the spot where Billy had been before. Eddie tapped his shoulder. “Steve?”

He jumped that time, like Eddie had actually hit him, and spun to face him. Up close, his face looked a hell of a lot worse and Eddie had to suppress a wince just looking at him. Steve looked at him confused, though it was hard to tell between the swelling and assortment of bandages on his face.

“…Munson?” Steve began. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come up.”

He said it flippantly, with a wave of his hand towards his left ear like that explained everything. It didn’t, but Eddie felt like it wasn’t his place to push.

“You good, man? You look like you got in a fight with a dump truck and lost,” Eddie said. “Badly.”

He expected Steve to scoff and roll his eyes, push past him and hit his shoulder too hard to be an accident. He expected him to spit some barb and walk away, to leave Eddie there in the hallway alone. None of that happened, though.

Instead, Steve smiled. A little self-deprecating, but a smile nonetheless. He huffed a laugh.

“Make it a supercharged dump truck and you’ve got it right,” Steve joked at his own expense. It resulted in a shocked laugh bursting from Eddie’s lips, which he immediately stopped by smacking a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his hand away. “That’s not funny. I mean… your joke was, just not,”—he gestured to Steve’s… everything—“this.”

“It’s okay man, I know what you meant,” Steve said sincerely and Eddie doubted why he was ever called King Steve. The person who stood in front of him was the furthest thing from what those jocks supposedly worshiped that Eddie had to hide another bubble of laughter.

“Seriously, dude, did you even go to a doctor?” Eddie asked, and at Steve’s wince he knew the answer. He rolled his eyes and slung an arm around his shoulders, careful not to land too hard in case he was bruised there too, and led him down the hallway towards the nurse’s station.

“Uh,” Steve began. “Where are we going?”

“The nurse,” he explained. “Figured a look wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed a little under his arm, and Eddie decided to focus on him during their walk down the empty hallway. He noticed the way his hair bounced a little with every step, how a couple strands were threatening to fall from their perfectly coiffed positions. He noticed his moles and freckles, how he had a smattering of faint ones all over his face from time in the sun. He noticed how his nose was a little crooked now, with a bump on the bridge that wasn’t there before the weekend. He noticed how pretty his eyes were, with at least three different shades of brown all swirled together like melted chocolate with flecks of forest green nestled in the folds.

He noticed that Steve was looking at him.

They had come to a stop in front of the nurse, yet Eddie’s arm was still over his shoulders. He quickly retracted it, but Steve didn’t move away and neither did he.

“Well, this is your stop,” Eddie nearly whispered out. Steve smiled, just a small quirk of his lips, and his eyes flitted across Eddie’s face.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he started. Steve took a step backwards toward the station and did a little wave with his fingers that had no right being as endearing as it was. “See you around.”

With that, he disappeared behind the thick mahogany door and Eddie was left there alone, face full of flames and smiling like he was in fucking love with the guy.

Fuck, maybe he was a little bit in love with the guy.

That feeling didn’t waver, not even after seeing him in a skimpy sailor uniform as he scooped overpriced ice cream for toddlers in the Mall. Or, when he was pinning him to the rickety wall of the boathouse he was hiding in after seeing Chrissy murdered in front of him by some freaky wizard from an alternate dimension with a broken bottle to his beautifully freckled throat.

That feeling greatly intensified when he saw Steve take an honest to god bite out of a demonic bat and spit the flesh and blood out on the dried lakebed in the previously mentioned alternate dimension.

And, really, you can’t blame him for falling all the way when he found out exactly who dragged his half-dead body out of hell and saved his life.

So yeah, Steve was a very interesting subject indeed.

“Is… Is he okay?” Eddie questions as he straightens from his hunched position, head tilting to the side and making his bangs fall in his eyes. Robin throws her hands up with a mighty huff and a frustrated groan.

“Obviously not!” She exclaims. She starts pacing around his living room, back and forth in front of the coffee table. “He’s obviously not okay because you’ve been avoiding him and making him feel like shit for months and I’m actually really worried about him ‘cause he’s been doing stupid shit that can get him killed and I don’t know how much longer he can go on like this before it completely ruins him.”

As Robin rambles, her face turns a bright shade of pink. She finishes her speech, sucking in a deep breath as if she ran out of air. Eddie’s brows furrow.

“I haven’t been avoiding Steve,” he defends weakly. He hasn’t, not really. He just… he doesn’t want to get hurt.

Okay yes, Eddie is practically in love with the guy, but that doesn’t mean Steve feels the same about him. They’re friends, that’s it. Steve is going to find some beautiful girl and get married and have the houseful of kids he’s always wanted and Eddie will be here, still pining from afar. He knows it would be easier to just forget about him, and forget about the feelings clutching his heart like a starved hawk with its first fulfilling catch in months. That’s why he’s been slowly letting go over the past few weeks, trying—and failing—to get that stupid pretty boy out of his head. Of course, it’s not working, and every day he spends not talking to Steve feels like hell.

So no, he’s not avoiding Steve. He just doesn’t think he could survive it if he confesses and Steve rejects him completely. Staying away means he won’t accidentally reveal his feelings for the man, and judging by how much he’s feeling, it wouldn’t be very hard for that scraggly cat to come clawing and screeching out of the proverbial bag.

Robin, however, thinks the opposite because according to the look she’s giving him, she says he absolutely fucking has.

Eddie sighs. “Okay, maybe I have just a little bit but it’s not—“

Eddie freezes, stomach plummeting as Robin's rambling words take purchase in his mind. She said Steve was doing something stupid, something that could kill him. Flashes of a night now a distant memory play in his mind, one filled with panicked breaths, stilted tears, and a bloody bat with nails.

“Robin… What do you mean by ‘stupid shit’?” Eddie asks tentatively. Part of him wants to know the answer, while part of him fears the idea of ever finding out. Robin only gives him a confused look and crosses her arms.

“Eddie, that’s totally not the point of this conversation and you know it—“ Eddie cuts her off by waving his hands.

“Robin! Just…” he trails off. Should he tell her about Steve? He promised he wouldn’t but…

“Okay, I have to tell you something about Steve but please please don’t tell him I told you because I promised him I wouldn’t but if you also know something about him then I think you should know about this too,” he rushes out, words tumbling fast out of his mouth as his lungs scream for air. Robin’s icy glare has melted a bit, turning into one of anxiety and caution.

He sighs and flops down on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks down at his hands. He feels more than sees Robin sit next to him and he knows he has her attention.

“What happened, Eddie?” She prompts, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“I had a visit from Steve awhile back, around four or five days ago,” he begins. “It was early in the morning and I couldn’t sleep so I was writing notes for a new campaign idea in the living room. I could feel that something was… off, so I looked out the window and there he was.”

He ran a hand over his face, pushing his bangs back and pulling on the ends. He glances over at Robin to find her looking at him. He squeezes his eyes closed for a moment before looking back at her.

“He wasn’t all there, Robin. Like… like he was trapped in his mind or something. I thought,” he huffs a deprecating laugh, “for a moment there, I thought he was cursed.”

He doesn’t mention that the image found its way in his head and can’t seem to find its way out, like a stubborn housefly who keeps banging against the glass hoping to be freed. The thought of Steve floating—eyes rolled back in his head while his lids flutter and his limbs shudder and break one by one—has kept him awake on more nights than he can count. The thought of him being subjected to his worst nightmares given life, all the lies that he tells himself turned to truth. The thought of Eddie being completely helpless, watching him die in agony in front of him.

He doesn’t mention that every night since then, he’s called Steve. He needed to hear his voice, to know he was okay. To know he was alive. He never got a call back.

“I got him to come inside but he didn’t stay long. Something spooked him, I think, I just… I don’t know, it was really weird. Like…” he trails off, unable to find the words.

“Like he was in fight or flight mode?” Robin suggests, and he nods.

“Pure instinct.”

Robin groans. “Shit, this is worse than I thought.”

“Wait, did he tell you?” He asks. Steve was so insistent on Eddie not telling her—made him promise, in fact—so why…?

“Well… after a very long, very emotional, and very vulnerable conversation, yes. He told me on his own terms though, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she supplies. “He… He didn’t tell me a ton of details, though. Not… Not like that.”

There’s a pause as Robin clenches her eyes closed and looks away from him.

“I didn’t know it was that bad,” her voice comes out just barely above a whisper, something he wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t right next to her. Eddie stays silent, unwilling to break the solemn mood. Robin, however, misses that message entirely as she smacks his arm.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me, doofus?!” She accuses, giving him a half-hearted glare that is no less threatening. Eddie holds his hands up in surrender, unable to hide the exasperated look on his face.

“He made me promise!!” Eddie defends. “Plus he gave me those damn puppy dog eyes and I couldn’t say no.”

“He is really good at that, especially when he wants something. He says he has no clue but I bet you he does,” Robin whispers, almost conspiratory as if they’re sharing a terrible secret. Eddie can’t help but smile and shake his head. Screw Harrington and his stupid pretty eyes.

“Did he say anything else while he was here?” Robin asks after a moment of silence.

“No, that was the only thing he said really, other than an absent ‘I’m fine’ before he bolted out the door. It was a very uh… one-sided conversation,” Eddie explains. “He mostly gave only one or two word answers before he panicked and ran.”

“I’m gonna assume he didn’t tell you why he left?” She asks, and at the shake of his head she curses. “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.”

Robin shifts beside him, raising her hand to mindlessly chew on her thumbnail. He thinks the conversation is over. Or, rather, wishes it were over.

That universal god must really hate Eddie today because Robin roughly shakes her head and waves her hands around, letting out a huff.

“Okay, one problem at a time. That was totally not the point of this little talk and you know it, Munson,” she admonishes. “Why. Are. You. Avoiding. Steve?”

She punctuates each word with a, quite literal, punch to the arm. Eddie reels back, dramatically clutching his bruised arm and gives her a fake glare.

“Ow!!” He rubs his arm. For her incredibly bony arms, she really can pack a punch. He’s only half joking that it hurts.

“Answer the question!”

“Fine fine…” he takes a deep breath, knee bouncing with building anxiety before he stands up, unable to quell the urge to move. He paces twice in front of the coffee table before he has the nerve to look at her waiting gaze.

“So, as you know, I am a raging homosexual,” he states, and at his pause, she nods. “And I miiiiiight have a teeny weeny, itsy bitsy, enormous crush on him.”

The end of his sentence is rushed out, words jumbled together as he screws his eyes closed and waits for… whatever Robin’s response is going to be. He waits for five seconds. Then ten. Then twenty-five because yes he’s counting. If he knows one thing about Robin Buckley it’s that she doesn’t know when to stop talking so silence is a very rare occurrence for her and now its been a whole minute and something must be wrong so he opens his eyes to find her—

The only word that even remotely comes close to encompassing the expression on her face is seething.

He instinctively takes a step back.

“Edward Lee Munson you better explain yourself right fucking now or I swear to every god out there that I will rip out your spleen and feed it to the neighborhood dogs before you take a step out that door,” Robin all but growls out, eyes icy and cold as they stare through him. He’s quick to explain because he really quite values his spleen, thank you very much.

“Okay, okay, geez I get it! Fine,” he huffs. “I’ve been avoiding Steve because it’s hard to be around him.”

Robin only raises an eyebrow. Eddie groans. He really wishes he didn’t have to explain his big, fat, gay love this early in the morning.

“It’s hard because he’s so…. So Steve all the time. He’s so kind and caring and hot— god, Birdie, he’s so fucking hot—“

“Okay, yeah, I didn’t need to know that,” Robin interrupts.

“Sorry,” he says, a bit sheepish. “Every little smile he gives me feels like a swarm of butterflies are fighting horde-style to get out of my stomach. I just…

“I think I’m in love with him,” Eddie confesses. The way her eyes blow wide is comical, and he’s half expecting them to pop and burst like they do in cartoons.

“But I know better,” he gives her a sad smile. “I know that I’m not special, he doesn’t mean it like that. Like I want it to. And…. And I know he never will.

“I thought that distancing myself would make the feelings go away, make it… I don’t know, hurt less? But not seeing Steve at all… fuck, it hurts worse than dying and I know what that feels like. Now I don’t even have him as a friend,” he scoffs at himself, shakes his head a little and focuses on a framed picture of him, Steve, Robin, and Dustin from graduation on the wall. Focuses on how Steve’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders, hand gripping his upper arm as he smiles shyly at the camera. How Eddie himself is leaning into his side, tucked under his arm as if he belongs there. As if he’ll ever belong there. He looks back at Robin.

“But this is what’s best. I can’t have my stupid heart feeling things my brain knows it shouldn’t,” Eddie ends his little speech by flopping back down on the couch. Part of him regrets telling her, but another small, itty bitty part is almost grateful.

Eddie’s always had a way of caring too much, even from a young age. Wayne could tell you better than anyone that Eddie has always had a soft side. He could tell you that Eddie refused to let him kill any of the bugs that got into the trailer when the weather turned cold and insisted that they be put outside under the trailer where it was at least a little warmer. He could tell you that every time Eddie would see another person cry, he would too.

He’s just always been like that, so carrying this around with him everyday? It was becoming too much to bear, having to put on a face around everyone so no one could tell. So no one could see how it was breaking him inside. Wearing him down to the bone. Slowly, slowly killing him.

Robin sighs beside him and he had almost forgotten she was there. Her voice is quiet and strangely gentle as she speaks.

“Why do you think that, Eddie?”

What?

“What?” He asks incredulously and knows his face is in a similar state to his voice.

“Why do you think Steve wouldn’t like you like that? Has he said anything to make you think he wouldn’t?” She clarifies, which really doesn’t clarify anything at all for him because what?

“Um… are we talking about the same Steve? You know, Steve Harrington, Hawkins’ resident ladies man? Why the fuck would you think I’d have a shot?” He explains. “He’s so painfully straight and I am so painfully not, Robin.”

Robin just looks at him like she’s trying to read his mind. Or, rather, push a thought into his mind. Waiting for something to click. It doesn’t. Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Besides, Steve never tried to talk to me about the whole distance thing, so I just—“

“You know what happens when people assume things, Eddie,” Robin interrupts.

“—figured that he didn’t mind,” Eddie finishes with a glare. Robin closes her eyes and takes a breath as if calming herself. She pinches her nose, right between her eyes like Steve always does when he’s frustrated or tired, and turns to him. She takes his hands in hers, and her face is only a mere mask of calm, the tumbling waves of anger rolling just under the surface.

“Eddie,” she begins. “Have you ever thought of the possibility that Steve doesn’t talk about his feelings? That he would keep it all bottled up inside like he does with literally everything else?”

Well, when she puts it like that…

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees. “I only found out about this whole… thing two days ago and that was only because I just so happened to catch him falling asleep at work. He wouldn’t have told me if I didn’t ask him, I know that for sure. He… Eddie, he honestly believes that this is all his fault. That he’s the one that fucked everything up between you and he kids.”

Eddie’s brain screeches to a halt. “Wait, what do the kids have to do with this?”

“You haven’t told them anything?” Robin asks, eyes going a little wide.

“Have I told a bunch of teenagers—whose opinions I regretfully respect—that I have a crush on their babysitter? No, I have not.”

“Okay, yeah that was a stupid question, sorry,” she amends. “Just… the kids are avoiding Steve and I can’t think of a reason why.”

“They’re what!? Wait, why haven’t I heard of this until now?” Eddie exclaims. Robin gives him a look that makes him deflate a little. “Let me guess, you only found out two days ago?”

“Bingo, we have a winner!” Robin fake cheers, raising her arms in a mock-celebratory fashion. She drops them with a huff. “They haven’t talked to him in weeks, Eddie, and I think it’s because you have been avoiding him.”

Her tone isn’t accusatory, but it still makes him feel like shit.

“They must have picked up the sense that something was going on between you two and assumed they should be avoiding him too,” she suggests. Eddie leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t get how they could think that, though. I mean, Steve has been nothing but good to them for years now.”

“I know,” Robin agrees. “But they’re kids. Stupid, dumb, ungrateful kids, but they’re still kids.”

Eddie drops his head in his hands, pressing hard on his eyes until spots form behind his eyelids.

“I really fucked this up, didn’t I?” He asks it rhetorically, but Robin gives a noise of agreement anyway. “How do I fix this, Birdie?”

“You could start by talking to him,” Robin suggests.

Now isn’t that a terrifying thought?

Because knowing you have feelings for someone is one thing, but telling them? That’s something so far out of the realm of possibility for him that he’s never even thought about considering it.

“Have you lost your fucking mind, Buckley?” Eddie exclaims, looking over at her with wide eyes. “I’d like to keep all my teeth if you don’t mind. I mean, I know I’m not your type and everything but some poor schmuck would probably like to look at this face one more time before it's beat all black and blue.”

Robin only rolls her eyes at his rambling—which is rather hypocritical of her if you ask him, since she seems to treat rambling as an Olympic sport she plans on winning every time she opens her mouth. She grabs his face between her hands and honest to god shakes him.

“I can’t tell you everything, but I’m telling you to trust me and talk to him,” she practically demands, giving him a pointed look much like the one from before. Except he still doesn’t know what it means, as that final piece has yet to click into place.

He nods in her hold, partially afraid of her now, and she releases him.

“We need to fix this. Now,” Eddie insists. He looks over at her. “We need to talk to the kids.”

Eddie stands up, running to his room and groaning at the mess he left. Tossing his sheets and blankets back on the bed, he reaches under his bed for the walkie he knows he last saw under there three days ago. Except, it’s not there. He stands up, scrunches his eyebrows, and thinks.

Let’s see… it was next to the keychain that was on top of the VHS sitting on the books on the corner of the desk, then he moved it when he had to answer one of Lucas’ questions which he did while he walked around the trailer and he laid it down when he finished to get some cheese from the fridge, meaning—

Eddie runs back to the kitchen, finding the walkie on top of the fridge, right where he thought it would be.

“Got ya!” He grabs it and runs back to the living room where Robin is waiting very impatiently.

“Where even was that?” She asks but he ignores her, electing to set the frequency so he can talk to the kids all at once instead of answering her. He presses the button.

“This is Eddie the Banished calling an emergency Hellfire meeting pronto,” he orders into the speaker. “I repeat, emergency Hellfire meeting.”

He waits for a response. One minute. Two minutes. Three—

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Eddie mumbles, pressing the button again. “Over.”

Immediately, Dustin responds. “Hear you loud and clear, Eddie. Is this a code red situation? Over.”

“Nope, not a code red. More of a uh…” he glances over at Robin who shrugs. “Code yellow? I think. Over.”

“What the hell is ‘code yellow’? We don’t even have one of those,” comes Erica’s, as always, sarcastic remark. Eddie can faintly hear Lucas yelling in the background.

“Munson, you better not be shitting with us.”

“I promise you, Red, I wouldn’t. Not about this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, people! You’re supposed to say ‘over’ when you’re done talking! Over.”

“Shove it, Dustybuns, the adults are talking.”

Eddie has to hold the walkie away from him at Dustin’s responding shriek. He presses a hand over his eyes. These kids are going to kill him one day.

“Guys, this is serious. Just get your asses over to my trailer as soon as possible. Robin’s already here, does someone have Little Byers and Supergirl?”

“I’ve got them. Over and out,” Mike responds.

“Erica and I are on our way. Over and out,” Lucas says.

“Be there in fifteen. Over and out,” Dustin declares. Eddie glances at Robin, sharing equally nervous and worried looks. This is not going to be fun.

Thirty minutes later, all of the kids are cramped in Eddie’s living room. Lucas, Max, El, and Mike are scrunched together on the couch, while Will and Dustin sit on the floor in front of them. Erica claimed Wayne’s recliner as soon as her and Lucas got there, refusing to move for the older teens.

Robin is standing next to him, hands on her hips again—really driving home the whole “Steve is my platonic soulmate” bit—as he stands there with his arms crossed. The two of them remind Eddie of disappointed parents about to tell off their kids, which, in reality, isn't too far off.

“Okay, what the hell?” Dustin asks, still breathless from the trek there. “I literally just got home an hour ago. Why did you call us and make us bike all the way here in the heat?”

“Because you deserve it for being shitheads,” Eddie defends and rolls his eyes. He’s met with a cacophony of dweeby teen voices as they retaliate.

“What did we do this time?”

“What?! We didn’t do anything!”

“What did Dustin do, now?”

“Me? Why am I the one being blamed? I wasn’t even here!”

“Because you’re too damn nosey, dude.”

“Ouch, Lucas. Ouch.”

“Hey!” Eddie yells, clapping his hands to get their attention. It startles them all enough to quit talking over each other and look back up at him. “Okay, I’m just going to get to the point. Why are you all avoiding Steve?”

Mike gives him a confused look and crosses his arms, his expression the epitome of teenage angst.

“We thought you hated Steve, dude. You would always leave the room whenever he was around with some shitty excuse so we just decided to do the same,” Mike answers. Dustin nods from his spot on the floor.

“Yeah, we all thought he did something or said something to you since every time we brought him up, you’d shut the conversation down somehow. It just… naturally progressed from not talking about him to not talking to him either,” Dustin explains.

“Steve stopped showing up to things, too. He used to help me practice but he’s not shown up in weeks,” Lucas adds.

“Mom’s gotten really worried about him. He’s not shown up to dinner in a while, either,” Dustin chimes in. He shrugs. “We just thought the feeling was mutual.”

Eddie clenches his eyes closed and throws his head back. Fuck, this is worse than he thought. He hears Robin shift beside him, and knows firsthand the look she’s giving them right now.

“Have any of you even considered asking Steve about this?” Robin asks accusatively. “Or even talking to him about anything other than rides or movie nights?”

Silence falls over the room, so thick and suffocating that Eddie briefly prefers the air of the Upside Down to this. He pulls his hair, scrunching down on the floor and balancing on the pads of his feet.

“This is all my fault,” he groans, twisting strands of hair frustratedly.

“It is,” Robin agrees and ignores the glare Eddie sends her way for that. “But we can still fix this.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Mike asks.

“Why does Eddie look three seconds away from strangling himself with his hair?” Max hesitates, sounding the most cautious he’s ever heard her. Eddie groans and avoids eye contact with the group.

“The reason I’m avoiding Steve isn’t because I hate him. It’s uh… quite the opposite, actually,” he explains, nervously fidgeting with his rings and pulling a thick strand of hair to hide his face. He glances at Robin, who gives him an overly enthusiastic thumbs up, and he rolls his eyes.

Max and Erica give him equally smug smirks while Will looks at him with wide, understanding eyes. The rest of the group, however, look confused.

“Wait, then why are you avoiding him?” Dustin asks.

“Dude, that makes zero sense,” Mike counteracts. El just looks lost, almost like she’s trying to read his mind. Which… he really wouldn’t be surprised if she could at this point. Eddie sighs.

“That’s not the point,” Eddie redirects. “The point is that an issue with me and Steve shouldn’t affect you guys’ relationship with him.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees, and he deftly ignores the pointed look she sends his way. “Steve has been there for all of you for years.

“Dustin, wasn’t it Steve who helped you catch D’art when he escaped from your cellar? He bought pounds of meat for you to lure a demodog away with, then fought a pack of them by himself to keep you safe. Steve put himself in the line of fire again against said demodogs in the tunnels after he was beaten unconscious by Billy, then sacrificed himself to Russians just so you and Erica could make it out alive a year later.”

Dustin clamps his mouth shut from its gaping position—likely from him wanting to defend himself from the truth—and has the decency to look sheepish. Eddie turns his gaze to Lucas.

“Lucas, wasn’t it Steve who helped you train for basketball when you started to show an interest in it? He practiced with you every week, even after a long shift at work or when he felt like shit, just because you asked. Steve protected you against Billy because it was the right thing to do, and took a beating so you wouldn’t. Not many people can say they’d do that for someone else, especially not against anyone as vicious as Hargrove,” Eddie adds. Lucas drops his head in his hands, knee bouncing from his place on the couch.

“Max,” Robin begins. “Steve checked up on you every day after Billy died. He would bring you food or ice cream or a distraction, but he was always there. He would drive you to the arcade just to cheer you up, let you beat him at Dig Doug and Pinball just to see you smile. Steve was terrified to let you be the bait for Vecna, he… he kept telling me that he wished it was him instead. That he should be the sacrifice, not you.”

Robin wipes her eyes where they begin to tear up, and Eddie uses the pause to look at Mike. He still has his arms crossed, but the smartass look on his face has dwindled a little.

“Mike, I know you don’t like Steve because of him and Nancy, but you can’t hold onto that grudge forever. What happened between them had nothing to do with you, so there's no need to be mad at him for it,” Eddie states. Mike isn’t looking at him now, and something tells Eddie that the kid just needs a reality check. Hopefully, this will work. “Steve has been protecting you from the beginning, even when you were more than hostile to him. You’ve at least got to give him credit for that.”

Eddie looks around, sees the morose expressions on the kids’ faces.

“Steve has picked you all up countless times from Hellfire, waiting the entire session out in the parking lot while wasting away in his car. He was there rain or shine, snow or sleet, and he never missed a day. Not once,” he states.

Eddie first found Steve’s presence after Hellfire to be confusing, an anomaly. He didn’t know that the Steve the kids talked about was the same Steve he had a debilitating crush on in high school, not until he saw him waiting outside after the first session the kids attended, leaning against his maroon BMW like a Calvin Klein model. A ball of anxiety formed in his stomach at the sight, because one thing about Steve Harrington was that he’s unpredictable. Eddie just didn’t know if it was good or bad yet.

“You know, usually when people graduate they tend to stay away from high school, not willingly come back,” Eddie teased.

His words seemed to spark some life into Steve, as he jolted from his relaxed position against the hood to stand firmly beside his car. Steve ran a hand through his hair, and looked Eddie up and down.

“You’d probably know more about that if you managed to actually graduate, Munson,” Steve quipped, but it wasn’t mean. He had a smile on his face, and the air around him was friendly. Some of the anxiety churning in Eddie’s gut eased at the sight.

“Besides, who says I’m here willingly?” Steve asked rhetorically, as Dustin made his appearance by running up to him and immediately began talking his ears off about the new campaign. Steve turned his full attention on the boy, nodding along to certain comments even when Eddie knew for sure Steve didn’t know what the hell Henderson was talking about. The other kids soon crowded around the former jock, all talking so incredibly fast that Eddie was surprised the sound barrier survived their cracking voices.

Eddie watched as Steve glanced at him over the kids’ heads, giving him a loose smile and a shrug as if saying, ‘what can ya do?’

Soon, all the gremlins piled into Steve’s fancy car, still talking and gesturing wildly with their hands. Eddie had a passing thought that he should get Steve some earplugs or something to at least help drown out the noise. He immediately shook his head at the thought and jumped in his old, beat up van, driving home to an empty trailer and trying desperately to forget Steve Harrington existed.

“He always waits until the excitement starts to wear off before he takes you all home, letting you talk to each other for nearly an hour after each session despite the fact he never has a clue what you’re talking about. He always listens to you guys, no matter what,” Eddie supplies. “Did you guys know he has mixtapes for each of you?”

At the question, they all look at him with varying degrees of confusion and an all-too-late realization. Eddie huffs, while Robin mutters something under her breath that sounds a lot like, ‘of course they didn’t.’

“There’s one for each of you, filled with songs you like or mentioned liking at some point despite some of them not being his own taste. He listens to you, all of you, and it fucking hurts to know you don’t see that,” he exposes, and part of him regrets letting a bit of his anger out. Though, the kids need to know this is serious, that you can’t go through life assuming the worst in people, so if being angry is what it takes then so be it.

The kids have various emotions on their faces, ashamed and regretful being the two most prominent. Dustin clears his throat and looks up at Eddie, flicks his eyes to Robin, and returns them to his lap.

“I… I didn’t realize he did so much for us,” Dustin quietly admits, and a small part of Eddie cheers at finally teaching the kid a thing or two about humility.

“We’ve been taking advantage of him for… for so long,” Lucas breathes out. Max nods morosely beside him, and Will raises a shaky hand to cover his mouth.

Mike rolls his eyes, still petulantly crossing his arms. “Why should we even care about him? All he’s probably doing is wallowing in his fancy house or something.”

He says it with a layer of snark so thick, all the kids turn to him with varying levels of bitchy glares. Eddie, however, can tell his attitude is a mask, a way for him to hide how he’s truly feeling to prevent from being too vulnerable. From being too open. Eddie knows a lot about that.

It started when Eddie was four and he scraped his knee on the harsh gravel outside his parents’ run-down home in Kentucky. Tears rolled down his chubby cheeks as he ran inside to tell his mom, who he knew would take care of him. She told him to play outside, and not come in until she told him so, but his knee really hurt and he was scared they would have to cut it off if it bled too much. At least, that’s what Charlie—a kid who lived two streets over—said they would do.

When he stepped over the threshold, something felt off. The house was quiet, more so than normal, and it set him on edge. The TV was filled with static that grated on his little ears, and he covered them with his hands as he made his way over to turn it off. He picked up the antenna off the floor, wondering how it got knocked off the top of the TV in the first place. He looked around the living room, finding it in a similar state of disarray. He followed the trail of broken things before him; the overturned coffee table, a spilled ashtray, a stray pillow, and the chair his dad always sat on, pushed far out of its normal place. He questioned who could have messed up his house like this, leaving a big mess behind.

He found his answer when he ventured into the kitchen, just a few short steps from the living room, and found his mother laying on the floor. She was on her stomach, arms splayed out as if she tried to catch her fall and head turned to look at the doorway where little Eddie stood. Her eyes were closed but she was still breathing, the floral pattern of her dress moving with each breath. Shards of ceramic were spread out around her, littered with droplets of dark blood that spilled from a cut on her forehead. It dripped down the side of her face, along the curve of her cheek and onto the floor where it formed a small puddle. Her skin was pale in the artificial light of the house, the soft yellows doing nothing to soften the tones of her ashen face.

“Mama!” He ran up to her, falling to his knees beside her still body. He shook her, trying to get her eyes to open, but all it rewarded him was a pained grunt. His eyes welled with tears again, this time for his Mama, but nothing he was doing was working.

A shadow fell over the floor and he looked up to find his father blocking the light from the gold-colored light fixture above the kitchen table. His face was stern and dirty looking, his stubble well past the point of a five o’clock shadow and leaning more towards a sleazy strip club owner. There was a smear of blood on his face from his hand, which he noticed was bruised around the knuckles. However, the sight of what was in his other hand made him freeze, entire body going stock still.

In his father’s left hand were the remnants of the broken plate on the floor, the jagged edges cutting into his skin where he gripped it tightly. Matching blood littered the edge, and a splatter of the dark liquid traveled up his hairy arm and disappeared into his rolled up flannel sleeve.

He looked up at the figure before him, and the tears spilled over against his will.

“What happened to Mama?” He asked. “Why won’t she wake up?”

“‘Cause she’s sorry, son,” his dad answered, throwing down the ceramic and causing it to shatter against the floor. Eddie flinched, and his father caught the motion. He hadn’t been able to quell it, hadn’t learned how to hide his fear yet. The man scowled at him, lip curling as he grabbed Eddie’s arm and hauled him off the floor in one solid motion.

“She’s weak, Edward,” he began. This close, Eddie could see the redness of his eyes, and the deep purple bags that hang underneath. “Just like all women. Do you wanna be weak, boy?”

Eddie shook his head, and his father gripped his arm tighter. “Answer me!”

“N-No sir,” Eddie muttered, voice small and weak in the face of his father.

“Then stop that fucking crying, don’t be a sissy. I ain’t raising a fucking faggot, Edward.”

With that, his dad dropped his arm and stumbled into his bedroom down the hall. As soon as his figure was gone, Eddie turned back to his mom, crouching next to her. Sometime when his dad was talking, her eyes had opened and her breathing grew stronger. Eddie felt like it was nothing short of a small miracle.

“Mama, are you okay?”

“‘M okay, baby,” she replied, pushing herself off the floor with a grunt. She sat up with Eddie’s help, and frowned when she saw the reddened mark on his arm. “I shouldn’t have let him do that to you.”

“You were hurt, Mama. ‘S not your fault,” Eddie reasoned, pulling his arm out of her grasp to wipe at some of the blood on her face. “You’re bleeding, too.”

“Oh,” she began, reaching up to touch the wound as if she hadn’t realized it was there. “It’s nothing, Eddie, just a little scratch. Mama will be okay, promise.”

She didn’t look okay, this close, with her sunken-in face and slowly forming black eye Eddie hadn’t been able to see before. But his Mama was always right. Always.

“Pinky promise?” Eddie asked, holding out his little pinky. His Mama smiled, and raised a shaky hand to lace her pinky with his.

“Pinky promise.”

A year later, he was riding in the car with his Mama, backpack at his feet. She was dressed nicer than he ever remembered her being; a baby blue, short-sleeved dress hugged her slender frame, paired with white heels, white bug-eyed sunglasses, and a sheer white scarf she had tied around her hair. Her suitcase was in the trunk, but his father was nowhere to be found.

“Mama?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Where’s Dad?” He asked. His Mama cleared her throat before she answered, voice shaky.

“He’s not coming with us, Eddie,” she said. “We’re going somewhere far away from him. Somewhere new.”

“Where?”

“Have a look for yourself, honey,” she said, pointing to the window. Eddie crawled up on his knees to look out, seeing a sign welcoming them to a place called Hawkins. He sat back down in his seat, looking back at his mother.

“What’s here?” He asked. His mother smiled.

“Your Uncle Wayne. He’s my brother,” she supplied. “We’re just going to pay him a little visit, okay?”

A few short minutes later, they were parked in front of a small trailer, a gruff looking man waiting for them on the newly-built porch. They got out of the car and Eddie grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders before his Mama led him up the steps.

“Eddie, this is Uncle Wayne,” his Mama informed. He looked up at her and she nudged his arm, urging him to say something.

“H-Hello, sir,” Eddie greeted, sticking out his small hand for the man to shake. Wayne huffed a laugh and crouched down, causing Eddie to take a step back on instinct, before he took his hand and shook it.

“Nice to meet ya, Eddie,” Wayne began. He let go of his hand but stayed crouched. “You can call me Wayne, or Uncle Wayne, or Uncle, or—hell, Todd for all I care. Just none of that ‘sir’ business, you got me?”

Eddie smiled and nodded. “Sorry, si—uh, Uncle Wayne.”

“That’s better, boy,” Wayne said, smiling as he clapped his shoulder softly. Wayne had kind eyes, blue and soft around the edges. They weren’t mean like his fathers. Instead, they looked exactly like his Mama’s—save for a few extra wrinkles around the edges. “Why don’t you go on inside while your Mama and I talk?”

Eddie did as he was told, walking in the trailer and taking in his surroundings. It was small, smaller than his house, but cozy. A couple mugs were hung up on the wall, paired with three trucker hats and a framed picture he was too far away to see. An old, floral patterned couch sat on the long wall of the living room, a coffee table in front littered with an opened can of Coke and a half-eaten bag of chips. The windows were open to let light in, making the space feel much bigger than it actually was.

He stepped into the kitchen, just a pace away from the living room, and took in the red-toned wooden cabinets and cream countertops stained with coffee rings yet to be wiped away. There was a hallway to his left where he found a single bedroom and a bathroom. The bathroom was small, just big enough for a stand-up shower, toilet, and sink. A single toothbrush sat in the cup on the side of the sink along with a bar of soap and an almost empty tube of toothpaste. On the other side of the sink though, Eddie noticed an unopened toothbrush. It was blue and had sparkles throughout its plastic. At the bottom, there was a small dog sticker and it made him smile a little.

His attention soon wandered to the bedroom, where he found a little twin-sized bed and tons of boxes. The bed was bare, save for a folded up quilt near the bottom with a pillow on top. The boxes were filled with various things; clothes, books, a cassette player, shoes, and tons of other small trinkets. He sat on the ground, pulling a box closer to look through it. There were thin books near the top labeled ‘Hawkins High’, and he flipped through it to find pictures upon pictures of people. He read the names, sounding them out to see if he could get them right. Some of them were weird, though, and he quickly put the book down to look at something else.

There was a box of cassette tapes to his left and Eddie scooted over to look through it. There were tons of names he didn’t recognize as he rifled through the plastic cases, though one stood out to him.

He picked up the Fleetwood Mac tape along with the cassette player from a box near the closet, plugging it into the wall and putting the tape in. He eyed the front door, seeing it still firmly closed. Just then, the tape clicked, causing him to jump, and he pressed play.

The familiar voice filled his ears, and he smiled. He and his Mama used to listen to Fleetwood Mac back home in the kitchen while they made supper, singing along with the tape or the radio to fill the house with music. The sound of it brought a smile to his face, and he closed his eyes as he listened to the words.

Engrossed in the music, he barely registered that the front door had both opened and closed until a soft hand was laid on his shoulder.

“Eddie, baby, I have to go,” his Mama said, and he jumped to his feet. He kinda felt bad about going through Uncle Wayne’s things without him being there, but if they were leaving then he didn’t think he would get too mad.

“Where are we going now, Mama?” Eddie wondered. His mother’s face turned pinched, and she lifted her glasses to look at him directly. She wore make-up, much more than she usually did, and as she crouched down Eddie could see it was barely disguising a bruise along the top of her right cheekbone.

“Eddie, only I’m leaving,” his Mama corrected. “You’re staying here with Wayne.”

At that, his whole world fell apart.

His mother, his Mama, was leaving him. It didn’t seem fair that he couldn’t go with her, that he couldn’t stay with his Mama like he wanted to. Wayne seemed nice from their brief interaction, but he didn’t know him. Not like he knew his Mama.

His stomach sank to his feet, and it felt as if someone poured ice-cold water over him. His eyes grew wide as tears welled, spilling over his cheeks.

“Why, Mama?” Eddie sobbed, wiping at his face because he wasn’t supposed to cry. “Why can’t I go with you?”

“You just can’t, Eddie, I’m sorry,” she stated. It felt hollow, her explanation. Like she was hiding something.

“But why?”

“Because you just can’t, Eddie!” She snapped, and Eddie’s breath caught. She sounded mad, but Eddie had never heard her get mad, not at him at least. He didn’t know what he did, only that she wouldn’t let him go with her.

She took a breath and cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“But- But you can’t leave me!” Eddie wailed. “Mama, please!”

She opened her arms and he fell into them, clinging hard enough to deem separating impossible. She hugged him back just as tight, and Eddie saw evidence of tear tracks streaking through her caked-on foundation.

“I know, baby, I don’t want to leave you either,” his Mama soothed. “But Wayne is going to take care of you, okay?”

Eddie looked over her shoulder to see Wayne leaning against one of the kitchen countertops, smiling sadly at him. Eddie screwed his eyes shut and buried his face in his mothers neck.

“You’re gonna come back, right?” Eddie mumbled before he moved to look at her. “Pinky promise you’re gonna come back for me.”

His Mama cried and wiped at her cheeks, smearing the make-up and making the bruises appear fresh on her pale skin. She held out a pinky, and Eddie laced his with hers.

“I promise, Eddie,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his forehead before getting to her feet. Her and Wayne shared a hug on her way out, and Eddie caught Wayne wiping his eyes too. He and his uncle stood on the porch as his mom drove away, waving until her taillights disappeared around the curve of the road.

That was the last time he saw his mother.

Unfortunately, it was not the last he saw his father.

He stayed with Wayne for two months until his father found him. They had grown accustomed to each other in that time, Eddie having warmed up to another parental figure and Wayne having gotten the basics down for caring for another being. Wayne insisted he start school in the fall, and he was two weeks in when all hell broke loose.

His father rolled up to the trailer in a fancy-looking sports car Eddie knew his dad didn’t have the money for. He stumbled out on the gravel, banging on the door until Wayne pulled it open.

“The hell are you doin’ here?” Wayne asked, standing firm in the doorway.

“I’m here to get my son,” his father demanded. He pushed past him and stormed the place until he found Eddie in the only bedroom—Wayne having set up a cot in the living room.

Eddie hadn’t expected to see his father again, mostly because he didn’t think the man really cared for him. That was prominent when he snatched Eddie off the bed and hauled him out of his room.

“Dad?” Eddie questioned. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking you away from here,” his father responded, glaring at Wayne who stood blocking the doorway.

“You’re not takin’ him anywhere, Al,” Wayne countered. He crossed his arms, looking far more intimidating than Eddie ever imagined. “He’s happy here.”

“He’ll be even more happy with me,” his dad insisted. “With his real family.”

“Son of a bitch, Al, I am his real family!” Wayne yelled. “You ain’t got the means for takin’ care of that boy, and you know it.”

His father stood toe to toe with his uncle, glaring at him. He whispered something Eddie was too far away to hear, but it made Wayne deflate completely.

Eddie didn’t want to leave. He found that these past two months with Wayne were filled with more happy memories than he ever remembered having back home. Wayne was nice, a little rough around the edges but he was a big softy inside. He cared about people, that much was evident in the way he was constantly helping people out around the park. He was a good person, so leaving him felt like his Mama all over again.

“Come on, son,” his father demanded, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the trailer. Eddie looked back at Wayne, eyes stinging. He waved, and Wayne waved back. He watched the trailer from the backseat until he couldn’t tell which one was theirs, only facing the front when his dad snapped at him.

They rode for hours, far past the Indiana state line, until they ended up in a strange city filled with tall buildings and blinding lights that made Eddie’s eyes sting. They went through the city, stopping on the outskirts in a run-down neighborhood even more decrepit than his old house in Kentucky.

He spent two years with his dad in a city he came to know at St. Louis, but it never felt like home. Not like the trailer with Wayne, or anywhere his mother was. He learned how to hotwire cars and how to drive like a bat out of hell whenever his dad told him to. He learned that he was too much to take care of; his father constantly complained about feeding him, keeping him clothed, taking care of him like a father should. He learned that showing emotions would only get you hurt, that he had to hide them to survive. He learned what all the different white powders did to someone, how they would affect your mind and your body. How they made his father violent, or remorseful, or depressed, but never happy.

His father was on a bad trip when a rush of red and blue lights invaded their windows, sirens blaring and making Eddie’s ears ring. Their front door was kicked open, the old wood splintering easily under the force of a steel-toed boot. Police flooded the house, and Eddie was grabbed and dragged out before he had time to comprehend everything that was happening.

He was sitting in the back of a cop car with the door open, body completely still as police went in and out of their house. He couldn’t let them know he was scared out of his mind, that he was afraid of what they would do to him. He knew the best way to get through it was to show nothing at all. To be indifferent. Emotionless. It was the only thing his father taught him that he deemed useful.

His father was dragged out of the house by two policemen, kicking and screaming at them but Eddie couldn’t hear what he was saying, ears having gone deaf to anything other than the ringing in his head. Next thing he knew, his father had broken free and punched one of the officers, causing several to tackle him to the ground and handcuff him before practically throwing him into a car and hauling him away. All Eddie could do was watch, knowing there was nothing he could do to help him.

“You got somewhere to go, kid?” One of the cops that took him out of the house asked, leaning against the open door and blocking the flashing lights. Eddie nodded, and the cop took him back to the station where he called Wayne.

“Eddie, son, where are you? Are you okay? If that bastard hurt you, I swear to god—“

“Wayne,” Eddie began, his voice rough from not using it. “Can you come get me?”

A pause. “Sure, kid, where are you?”

“St. Louis,” Eddie supplied. There was cursing on the other end, muffled so Eddie couldn’t tell what was said but he knew Wayne well enough. Even after only two months, the man had become more like a father to him than his own dad ever was.

“I’m coming right now to get ya, just hold on tight, okay? I’ll be there ‘fore the morning.”

True to his word, Wayne showed up right before dawn in his beat up truck. He stormed the station like a madman, looking for him. He was rumpled, like he threw on just enough clothes to be decent before booking it all the way here. If he knew Wayne, that’s probably exactly what he did.

“Eddie? Eds, where are ya?”

“Sir,” the lady at the front desk interrupted. “I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voice—“

“Wayne!” Eddie perked up from the desk chair he was sitting at in the station, running around desks before jumping straight in his uncle's arms. Wayne held onto him just as tight, and he could’ve sworn he heard a sniffle or two come from the man.

“I was so worried, Eds,” Wayne whispered. “I tried lookin’ for ya, I swear I did, just—If I’d known he’d taken ya to another state I wouldn’t’ve stopped ‘til I searched the whole damn country.”

“I know, Wayne,” Eddie muttered. “I missed you too.”

As much as Eddie tried, he couldn’t put up that mask of indifference around his uncle. He could try, sure, but it never worked longer than five seconds before he saw right through it and it crumbled at Eddie’s feet.

“Let’s get you home, son,” Wayne insisted and before he knew it, Eddie was asleep in the passenger seat of the truck as they took the highway home.

Since then, Eddie and Wayne had become inseparable. There were no secrets between them, no masks. They weren’t needed, not when Wayne was more than good to him. They weren’t wanted, either, since Wayne made sure to remind him that showing emotions wasn’t a bad thing. That it was good, healthy.

It wasn’t until much later in middle school when he learned that having a mask was necessary sometimes. Especially when people started calling him a freak and a weirdo because he wasn’t identical to everyone else. Because he lived in a trailer with someone that wasn’t his biological parent and wore hand-me-down clothes that were baggy on him since his growth spurt hadn’t hit yet. He donned the air of indifference he had left behind long ago, letting the names and rumors bounce off his skin like water off an umbrella.

That need intensified when high school hit and the rumor mill grew exponentially. Suddenly, he was bombarded with accusations of Satanism, prison time, drug dealing—though that one was true—pet raccoons, and, at one point, an army of undead babies he sucked the life out of that he could command at will. Really, the shit people came up with was astounding, and Eddie learned to shove it all away. None of it was true—save for a couple things he would never, in a million years, tell another soul at Hawkins High—so he made sure to act like it was true. Let people believe what they want to believe. In the meantime, Eddie used it to his advantage to prevent anyone from getting too close. From looking past the barrier he put up between himself and everyone else.

So yeah, Eddie knows a little bit about where Mike’s coming from.

“Actually…” Robin starts. “Steve’s not doing so great—“

“What?!” Dustin squawks out, cutting Robin off and all but jumping up from his seated position. “Why the hell did you not start this whole damn thing with that?!”

“We were getting there, Henderson!” Eddie clarifies. “Now sit your ass down.”

Dustin—for once—does as he’s told. Eddie looks to Robin and gives her a nod, letting her have the floor.

“Steve’s got it in his head that he’s the only one allowed to sacrifice himself for us, that he’s only needed or wanted when he can put himself in the line of fire. So, like the caring dumbass he is, he’s been wandering around Hawkins at night because he’s worried that something will happen.”

“But I closed all of the gates,” El starts, head cocked and eyebrows scrunched like a confused puppy. “We are in no more danger.”

“I think part of him knows that, Supergirl,” Eddie explains. “But he needs to know for certain, to make sure you guys are absolutely safe.”

She nods, and sadness finds its way to her eyes. Eddie feels a pang of sympathy for her, knowing that learning how to live all over again is never easy.

“He’s not been sleeping much,” Robin continues. “It’s like he’s barely there anymore. Like he’s just… a shell.

“He thinks you all hate him. He thinks he deserves this for all the shit he did in the past, even though we all know he’s more than made up for it by becoming a decent fucking human being,” she spits out. There’s anger in her eyes now as she glares at a stain on the carpet, unwilling to look at the kids but needing to get her point across. “He broke down in my arms because this is the fifth fucking time the people he’s loved has left him and I think… I think this time broke him.”

She raises her head and looks over the kids, tears balanced on her lower eyelashes and threatening to spill over.

“You’re his family, the family he got to choose, and you still… you left. Just like everyone else has.”

The room fills with silence as the words sink in.

“How… How do we fix it?” Will asks, his quiet voice now loud. Eddie sighs and rakes a hand through his hair—a motion that keeps reminding him of Steve—before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I know part of it is my fault, I admit that. I shouldn’t have just stopped talking to him all of the sudden, I should’ve… well, there’s a lot of things I should have done but I didn’t, so I plan on fixing that,” Eddie admits. He looks around the room, makes as much eye contact as he can to drive his point home. “You should too. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t going to cut it, not this time. Not for this.”

The kids all nod, and Eddie gestures to the door to dismiss them. They all look like kicked puppies with slouching posture and ducked heads, walking out of the trailer with their tails between their legs. Dustin and Mike are the first to hop on their bikes, ready to either apologize and get it over with or get as far away from his and Robin’s disappointed glares as possible. Before they can push off, Eddie calls out to them.

“Hey! Give it a couple days,” Eddie orders. “Steve… He’s going to need some time. Go to him when he’s ready, okay?”

He’s met with various nods and ‘will do’s as some of them take off, their knobbly knees hitting the handlebars of their too-small bikes. Then, he notices a particular brunette has yet to leave, her bike with little white training wheels still standing in the grass. Her big brown eyes lock with his and, even though there's a porch between them, he can feel the seriousness in her gaze.

“I miss him. He was always very nice to me,” El confesses. “He always gave me piggyback rides.”

Her face falls a little. “I did not know we were being mean to him.”

Eddie finds himself softening a little at her words.

“I know, Supergirl,” he winks at her. “That’s why you’re my favorite.” 

She giggles in response and hops on her bike, meeting up with Max who stopped to wait for her a few yards away. 

Eddie closes the door, falling against it with a thud. He groans, the sound bouncing off the thin door and out in the empty trailer. He turns to go to his room, preferably to wallow, before nearly jumping clean out of his skin. 

Well, he thought the trailer was empty, except there now stands one Robin Buckley who has resumed her unimpressed, hands-on-her-hips, "you're a fucking dumbass" position from earlier. 

"Jesus H. Christ!" He exclaims. A hand comes up to grab at his heart which is actively trying to beat out of his chest as his lungs grapple for air. "Birdie, I forgot you were there."

"Yeah," she deadpans. "Clearly." 

Eddie straightens up, and quirks an eyebrow at her rather over dramatically. Robin rolls her eyes.

"Well?"

"It's a deep subject," Eddie sarcastically responds. Robin, unfortunately, doesn't find that funny. "'Well' what?"

"Go apologize!" She yells. 

“Okay, okay, geez!”

Eddie pats himself down, looking for the keys to his van before Robin clears her throat. He looks over at her to see an unamused quirk of her eyebrow before she points to the hook by the door where his keys hang. 

“Thanks, Buck!” he exclaims, pressing his hands together in prayer to the saint she is. Grabbing them, he throws the door open and clears the steps in one jump, stumbling a bit on the landing but really, he’s quite proud of this rare athletic appearance. 

Jumping in his van, he slams a random tape in the deck, grinning a little at the song that plays first. Despite his obvious avoidance of the second track, the Master of Puppets album still holds a very special place in his heart. So it's really not a surprise that the song that just so happens to play first reminds him of the very man he’s going to see, sacrificial tendencies and all. 

He slams on the gas, tires squealing as he peels out of Forest Hills trailer park faster than he ever has before. 

He’s not running away this time; not running from a small cheerleader’s body trapped on his ceiling, not running from angry town hicks with their fiery pitchforks, and not running from a creepy interdimensional demon who enjoys sucking the life out of depressed teenagers. 

No, this time, he’s running to something. Running to Steve. 

He just hopes Steve will let him.

———

Permanent tag list: @tea-beloved @estrellami-1 @mericatty @bookworm0690

Fic tag list: @madcapromantic @hannahhook7744 @h3rmitsunited @willim-billiam-byerson @stuftzombie @acowardinmordor @zerokrox-blog @my-chemical-sexuality-crisis @grimmfitzz @ladygrimheart @bestwifehaver @blanketlicker @fishinforfiish @vi-an-te @orionchildofhades @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @whackyrach @stevie-crow @missmagillicuddy @1cookieburn1 @mightbeasleep @jettestar @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @imyelenasexual @yikes-a-bee @that-agender-from-pluto @sufjuringstevens @gregre369 @sofadofax @lolawonsstuff @rajumat @ksierra674 @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window @justforthedead89 @vanillatwist @actually-races-erster @background-noise-headache @warlordless @largechaos @noctxrn-e @hope-can-be-your-sword @foundintheshallows @burningoffaroad @obliosworld @lemon-astra @midnightskeeper @venteraltus @lovelyscot @juleswashere3 @child-of-cthulhu

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[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fluffy Smut (7) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six

After the birthday stream (ao3) - trashcanfromgallifrey

Summary: The events that may have occured after Dan's birthday charity stream;) Starts of with fluff but ends up in a steamy hot shower

all I want to do is all of it with you (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Dan and Phil are going to stay late at the rehearsal venue to...film. Yeah.

As He Comes, So I Come (ao3) - cloej88

Summary: Dan and Phil have just returned from Chicago, where they finally sorted themselves out. They’ve slept a full ten hours under their own roof, and now they have an uninterrupted afternoon to rediscover one another’s bodies.

Buffy Movie Nights are Life Changing (ao3) - angelicsam

Summary: Things get steamy between Dan and Phil during their nighttime Buffy streaming session in 2010; featuring a confident yet bashful Phil and a shy Dan who learns how to drive Phil crazy.

Burning Bibles (ao3) - cherryheartz

Summary: phil lester loved curly headed boys with tattoos on their arms and a joint made with torn bible pages between their soft lips.

and dan howell was exactly that.

Dan and Phil Take Each Other's Clothes Off (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!) (ao3) - BREAD2000yeet

Summary: Dan and Phil play dress-up based off Dan's one dailybooth

Dan stops and stares at him, “You did not just tell me a red panda fact while we are having sex.”

“They can also glow in the dark.”

Despite everything it's still you (ao3) - Frog910

Summary: Dan's just got home from tour, they've missed each other

Dick pancakes and other declarations of love (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: a series of vignettes as I imagine them on Valentine's day

disco stick (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: “Let’s have some fun, this beat is sick,” Phil sings into the microphone connected to the Xbox. It’s slightly off-rhythm, and he grins and stares right at Dan as he continues onto the next lyric. “I want to take a ride on your disco stick.”

(A fic based on the moment from “What Dan and Phil Text Each Other 4” where DnP mention they’ve sung LoveGame countless times on an old karaoke video game.)

Don't Blame Me (ao3) - ForeverJustAnEmoKidAtHeart

Summary: When Phil gets a new job at the Tops Only Bar, he's just looking to make ends meet over the holiday period. He doesn't expect how he'll feel about one of the performers or how hard that'll make his job.

eager for you (ao3) - philsbisexuallion (bisexual_lightning)

Summary: Phil's been waiting all night for Dan to push him up against a wall and fuck him senseless. He finally gets what he wants.

(a self-indulgent ftm t4t smut fic; warning for use of the word "slut" in a degrading way)

et in saecula saeculorum (ao3) - ottertrashpalace

Summary: Phil is the Duke of Lancaster, Dan is a knight, they have been performing intricate rituals, Dan said “as you wish,” the rest is history. Enjoy.

fall in love again and again (ao3) - manchesterau

Summary: Two days into their holiday while lounging by the villa pool that they rented out for the week to ensure maximum privacy, Dan has a thought:

I’m going to marry this boy.

here come the dreams of you and (ao3) - manchesterau

Summary: So he and Dan are a thing now. Phil doesn’t really know what thing they are but it’s something he knows he wants to hold onto and never let go.

"I'm a big fan of tops" (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: Set immediately after filming the keep or yeet Phil's closet video.

Dan gets hot and bothered after watching Phil take his clothes off over and over again.

in this smoking chaos (ao3) - writingcollective

Summary: Dan bottoms for the first time, not being able to shut down his inner demons that whisper internalised homophobic thoughts into his ear. But Phil guides him through it, somehow.

james joint (ao3) - phook

Summary: dan and phil are gross and have been in love for 15 yrs and get high while visiting la for tit

Keep My Hand In Yours (ao3) - totalincandescense

Summary: It was kind of just an unspoken rule of their relationship. At least one part of Phil’s body had to be touching Dan at all times or it would throw the balance of the universe.

more than words (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan can't find words and Phil can't shut the fuck up, but there are other ways to communicate

phlondes do it better (ao3) - wearealldoomed

Summary: The day has come around quicker than Phil had anticipated.

The day where Phil dips his toes back into the waters of dyeing his hair after months of letting his natural hair colour grow back through.

The day where Phil goes platinum blonde without confronting Dan about it first.

Please Don't Say You Love Me (Cause I Might Not Say It Back) (ao3) - phantasticworks (steddieworks)

Summary: Dan's not very good at hiding his emotions during hookups.

based on this tweet: "got so used to saying "I love you" when I was having sex with my ex that I'm out here fighting for my life to not say it on accident with a hookup"

Precious (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: dnp have intimate lazy sex or whatever the fuck made people so mad on twitter. ( I didn't write the post, I'm just using it as a prompt)

Their first night on holiday.

Precious baby angel (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: Dan and Phil buy matching precious baby angel shirts because they’re gay and in love. Dan shows Phil how much he likes the shirt on his angel 💖

Precious Baby Angel (ao3) - toadsappho

Summary: Phil shows Dan his new t-shirt, but that's not the only surprise he has for him.

Réponds à Ma Tendresse (ao3) - Blorbiron

Summary: Dan is visiting, and that’s Phil’s absolute favorite thing ever- which is kind of sad, maybe, for someone he’s known for like two months, but he can’t be bothered to care. Because Dan’s sitting right on his bed, close enough to touch, and cackling whenever Phil dies in Crash Bandicoot. Which is a lot.

sativa (i said im ready) (ao3) - catbearbunz (bunnieovadamoon)

Summary: it’s 2009, and phil really wishes dan would call. he does, but he comes greener than expected.

aka they get drunk and high and have esex.

Sheets and sharpies (ao3) - wwoodles

Summary: “Are you going to be good for me?”

He hovered above Dan’s face, awaiting his response. Dan was always taken aback that Phil had this power in him. The ability to completely disarm him.

“Yes, Father.”

Or, in the moments after the end of Dan’s birthday stream, Dan is not only incredibly grateful for Phil, but also incredibly horny.

so american (ao3) - ae121

Summary: Phil has been living in London for a year and thinks he's gotten pretty used to the city. He works part-time at a bookstore, using it at first to gain some friends, now it's just fun for him. His friends are constantly trying to find him someone to date, but all of his dates don't go well.

Well, that's until he met Dan.

Something Unholy (ao3) - hygge

Summary: Phil receives some very surprising and seductive texts in the middle of the night.

Stay With Me (ao3) - blehmobile

Summary: Dan and Phil are flatmates, and they occasionally flirt. They agree that it is very normal to bathe with friends. Totally no tension at all.

sunkissed (ao3) - ivylakes

Summary: Maybe Phil was made to pour warmth into this man and leave little marks all over his body the way the sun does when it covers his skin with freckles. Maybe everything they’ve ever done and every little way they’ve loved each other has culminated in this very moment, where they can hardly see each other in the low light but are still brighter than the yellow light that breaks through the sky and glitters on the ocean.

Or, Dan and Phil go on holiday, and every photo they take tells a story.

true rat and relaxation time (ao3) - trashcanfromgallifrey

Summary: Two gays on holiday, inspired by their recent video.

when the train came it was so big and powerful (ao3) - r1caner

Summary: It is 2009, and things are going to change. Dan thinks so, anyway.

a dnp fic for the 15th 19th of october.

You and Me (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: Birthday sex after Dan's birthday livestream

you look so good it hurts (in my favorite t-shirt) (ao3) - phantasticworks (steddieworks)

Summary: Phil is gifted with a "Mega Dilf" shirt. Guess who picked that shirt out?

[stupidstrawberrystars]

Okay! I have this fic idea. Wolfstar and Jegulus. Ready? 

So, Remus and Sirius have been on/off dating since Hogwarts. They’re currently off and have been for the last year, the longest break they’ve had so far. 

Regulus didn’t go to Hogwarts, and runs into Sirius one day at a cafe and they get to catching up. Regulus and James flirt but, despite prompting from Regulus, James won’t ask him out. 

So once the brothers are vibing, maybe a month after re-meeting, Sirius introduces Regulus to Remus and they hit it off. Platonic Moonwater is living it up.

And then Regulus decides to introduce his friends to his brother and the others. They get along alright(ish) but Remus really hits it off with everyone (mostly…)

So Remus starts hanging out with the Slytherin Skittles more often. 

Say like 2-3 months later and they’re all hanging out (Skittles and Remus) and Barty goes, “I’m the opposite of gullible, I never fall for your shit Regulus” after some conversation about Regulus’ tricks.

And it gives Regulus an idea. 

So later that night when they’re alone, Regulus comes to Remus with said idea. 

There’s a fancy social event happening in like two weeks that Regulus is invited too. And he’s got a plus one. So he suggests Remus and him go as a “couple“ to prank Barty. And Regulus isn’t supposed to know Barty will be there (you can thank Evan for telling him) so it’ll seem like Remus and Regulus are just trying to get away from everyone and be together in secret. 

Remus is in since he’s been finding Barty a bit annoying and wants to prove that he is gullible. Plus he’s doubting Sirius intent behind his recent flirting with Remus and he could use a fun night out to distract himself. 

So they go. They go and they trick Barty so fast it’s laughable… but Regulus has been weird all night. He keeps sneaking glances at the door to the big fancy room they’re in, and 30 minutes ago he asked Remus if it’d be alright if they kissed to fuck with his homophobic boss who’s here… except they still haven’t done it? And Regulus isn’t super touchy.

Just when Remus is about to ask what’s going on, Regulus turns to him and announces they must kiss. And they do.

It’s alright. Regulus makes some joke about Sirius’ pining making more sense now he knows what a good kisser Remus is. And Remus doesn’t even get to ask about the “pining” because from the other side of the room, a very familiar voice yells “WHAT THE FUCK?”

And then Sirius and James are stood in front of Remus and Regulus.  

Oh. That’s why he’s been watching the door. Regulus knew Barty would tell James, to be a pain, and that these two would come here and see their kiss and then, what? Beg for them back? 

Regulus played Remus. The genius.

Anyway, Sirius starts talking, contradicting himself every next sentences, going from saying he’s happy for them and doesn’t want to lose them, to calling them names and accusing Regulus of backstabbing him. Then he leaves. James whispers, “I should’ve asked sooner Reg. Taken my head out my arse. I’m sorry.” And follows Sirius. Clearly Barty told them what they told him. They’ve “been together” for two months.  James and Sirius both thought him and Regulus were an actual real couple. 

Remus freezes for a moment but then he heads to the exit to follow them, Regulus close behind. And Remus shoots him a look. An annoyed one.

So they get outside and before Sirius and James can get in a taxi, Reg yells “WE’RE NOT DATING YOU DICKS!” 

Sirius turns around and silently walks over to Regulus with the most murderous look on his face. And whispers “What?”

Then Remus decides to interject, “We’re not dating. For the record though, we could. You two have been fucking hopeless at communicating with us. Hell, we’ve been broken up over a year Sirius.”

And Sirius turns to Remus, and with a slightly raised but wobbly voice, he answers, “We’ve been on and off again since we started dating Remus. We weren’t supposed to end on OFF. I still have the fucking ring I was going to give you before you broke up with me, it’s in the corner of my room. And while you’ve been kissing my brother, I’ve been planning a big gesture to ask you out again for months. Fuck, I was going to do it next week. The anniversary of when we met.” 

(btw Remus broke up with Sirius but because Sirius was pulling away and they weren’t talking. They’re at equal fault but where Remus has been trying to talk, Sirius has been brushing it off and just flirting). 

But long story short, Remus kisses Sirius and they’re all happy again. Oh and they agree to get some couples therapy. Cause that’s always important. 

Then James makes his cutesy speech, going all, “I should’ve gotten over myself sooner” and “I wanted to make it perfect” and “I thought maybe you didn’t actually like me and just liked out flirting thingy” and, after some torture from Regulus, pretending to say no, they hook up too.

And everyone’s happy :) 

[impishtubist]

How would slightly-homophobic-James react if we bring a pregnant Remus into this? Would it make things worse? Or better somehow? Or just weirder?

OH MAN THAT WOULD CERTAINLY THROW A WRENCH INTO THINGS.

I think it depends on how we're headcanoning Remus's pregnancy. Because if he's trans...ho boy. I think James trying to wrap his head around trans people existing would make his head explode tbh. He can barely wrap his head around the fact that boys want to kiss each other.

If it's because of Remus's lycanthropy that he can get pregnant...maybe James would be slightly more accepting/understanding of that? But not by much, I don't think.

Honestly I think pregnant Remus would just make James's brain glitch permanently. He might dip from their lives for the next 9 months or so, and when he comes back he's like "ah what a beautiful baby you've adopted!" and they just roll with it to keep the peace.

[nocturnal-phantoms-fandoms]

Okay well now I can't stop thinking about Sirius and Remus raising Harry, knowing slightly homophobic James probably wouldn't have been super okay with it. Discuss.

ok ok ok I have thoughts .

Sirius and Remus come out to James after Hogwarts (could be accidentally, could be on purpose after the wedding). Afterwards the things between them are weird and awkward, James is clearly uncomfortable even if he tries to hide it for Sirius’s sake, R & S are both heartbroken, its a mess.

But.

He comes around. He must come around because he names Sirius the godfather of his first and only son.

That means that either James or Lily are religious enough to want to christen Harry (or they could also be peer pressured by some remaining religious relatives? but thats rather unlikely bc in less than a year the only one left is petunia. and they dont care about her opinion. so.). And if they are religious and its important to them then choosing Sirius means quite a lot actually (not that there is anyone else James would rather choose. So i imagine that was actually in part his motivation to come around - so that Sirius could be his son’s godfather). It means they trust him to be closest (after a relative) person to their newborn child.

Sirius knows it and since he desperately wanted to reconcile with James he accepts the olive branch. Of course it doesnt erase the hurt but he believes thats the first step for them to be alright again.

Now as we established becoming a godparent doesnt equal being a child’s guardian. So if we have R & S raising Harry it means James and Lily chose Sirius to be a godparent and a legal guardian (but only Sirius*) (or they… kidnapped… Harry? I guess? (I dont really see how they could get custody of Harry otherwise so im gonna ignore that one for now))

So. I think Sirius is doing relatively alright with the “what would james think” thought. He was trusted with Harry, emotionally and legally, after all.

Of course he has his doubts along the way. He isnt sure he will fulfill his role as a godparent like he should (maybe he is not as religious as J&L were, maybe he is not even christian, maybe his family was religious and he is still dealing with the consequences of how that went for him). He isnt sure if he is doing a good job as a legal guardian/surrogate parent (he is a traumatized 22 year old). But even if he wonders if maybe he wasn’t the best choice, he has reassurance in the thought that he was chosen by James.

(even if james chose him still hoping he would find himself a nice girl before that)

Remus doesnt have that kind of reassurance. He is not the godfather, he is not the legal guardian* and he has a milion other reasons to believe himself less than and lacking. The internalized homophobia is strong with this one. He is terrified of being found out™ (by the neighbors, coworkers, Harry’s preschool teachers, the counter clerk). Maybe he insist they dont do groceries together (and it hurts them both). He doesnt have to insist on going separately to Harry’s doctor/healer/teacher appointments bc only sirius can go to them either way (and it hurts even more). He has even more doubts than Sirius about being Harry’s guardian bc he isnt even supposed to be there.

James was - apparently - fine with Sirius potentially taking care of Harry, but not with Remus. And if he wasnt okay with them being together, then surely he wouldn't approve both of them raising his child. (😈)

.

*I think it would be very difficult for J&L to name two men living together as legal guardians in the 80s. Even if they wanted to.

[lulublack90]

Sirius is helping an aching Remus to the hospital wing and wishing there was more time before he needs to transform. During their ever so slightly deviated walk Regulus Black come upon them and they leave him shocked in the corridor. When Sirius comes back from dropping Remus off to make his way to James and Peter so they can go down to the shrieking shack Sirius runs into a still frozen Regulus. They talk and it's not nice what comes out of Regulus's mouth, but Sirius takes the high road and educates his brother only for Regulus to say something unexpected.

Or

Wofstar kiss gets interrupted on their way to the hospital wing by Regulus. He's a homophobic jerk who then changes his tune.

[reggieblackthepoet]

Hello,

My name is Regulus Black

I’m a Slytherin

I’m 16

He/Him

Gay

Likes: reading, being alone, art museums, the color green, libraries, poetry

Dislikes: my parents, annoying people, homophobes, transphobes, racists, loud noises, probably you (the person reading this post)

My acquaintances:

Sirius, my annoying brother: @im-a-not-so-sirius-star

Barty, very unhinged: @barty-not-bartemius

Evan, more tolerable than Barty: @driedoutrose

Remus, an ok Gryffindor: @rj-mo0ny-lupin

James Potter, my amazing boyfriend: @heres-ur-daily-dose-of-prongsie

Marlene, slightly interesting: @ur-fave-rockstar-girl

Peter, is called “wormtail” by his friends (sort of weird?): @wormtail-pete

Pandora, my best friend: @pandadoraa

Lily, generally a good person: @lily-pad-love

Dorcas, very cool one of my closest friends: @cassie-meadowes

Emmeline: @aunty-emms-emporium

Mary: @mary-macdonald1

Sybill: @sybilances

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

I do not support JKR if you do or are transphobic, homophobic, biphobic, racist, sexist, etc. please leave

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

this is a roleplay account, message @im-ur-sleep-paralysis-demon if you want to join

my main blog is @jamespottersconverse if anyone is interested

[inkednotebook]

Thank you @kaylinalexanderbooks and @willtheweaver for the tags!

Rules: answer the prompts for an OC

Tagging @meerawrites, @illarian-rambling, @mjparkerwriting, @bardic-tales, and @peachesandghosts

From my WIP Icing Waved Off

Full name: Theodore Alexander Wilson

Age: 24

Gender: Cis male

Species: Human

Appearance: Pale skin with pink undertones, no birthmarks or freckles, really. Short, chocolate-brown hair, often swept back; faded shave around the ears and nape of the neck; longest pieces touch the top of his ear. Hazel-coloured, slightly downturned eyes. Angular features (nose, cheeks, and jaw). 6'1" or about 185cm. Broad shoulders, boxy-shaped torso. Strong, muscular legs (especially thighs).

Occupation: Pro/NHL hockey player

Family members: Isn't super close with them, in part because he lives relatively far away for his career. As such, I haven't fully developed these characters yet. His dad, Greg Wilson, is a cop. He was pretty hard on Teddy and his brother growing up, but it's because he wanted them to succeed and wanted them to work hard (though he could've done a better job at showing them love). He has some pretty traditional gender views (e.g., "man" of the house, heteronormative but not necessarily homophobic). Teddy's mom, Libby Wilson, is an elementary school librarian. She's much softer than Greg, but never really spoke up if/when Greg was being hard on the boys growing up. Teddy's brother Nicholas is a few years older and is doing his PhD in psychology and has a habit of psychoanalyzing people and situations rather than listening. He's engaged to his fiance Kylee.

Teddy's extended family is spread out across New Brunswick and eastern Ontario (Canada). On his dad's side, he has an aunt and uncle who live in Moncton, NB, and a "dickhead uncle" (as James calls him) who lives in Fredericton, NB with his grandparents. He has cousins in Ottawa, ON - his Moncton aunt and uncle's kids. On his mom's side, he has an aunt and uncle who live in Kingston, ON, and who have a couple kids a few years younger than him. He also has his grammie who lives in Kingston - she lives in a retirement community where she found "her new beau" (also according to James).

Best friends: James Parker

Pets: None. He never had any growing up because his brother's allergic to most animals and his parents didn't want any reptiles or anything. With his job being so hectic, he doesn't have the right lifestyle for a pet at the moment.

Describe their room: Mostly decorated by his fiance Eleanor. Large king-sized bed with pale blue sheets and teal, paisley-printed duvet. White bookcase near the window with novels, trinkets, and pictures. A small armchair next to the bookcase; black suede with a pale blue throw blanket and matching pillow. White dresser across from the end of the bed with jewellery boxes/displays atop. White bedside tables with books and magazines on top. A walk-in closet near the back corner, next to which is the entrance to the master bath.

Way of speaking: His voice is pretty even-toned most of the time. He uses a lot of sports slang in his speech. Hesitates and stumbles over words when anxious. Ontario accent.

Physical characteristics: Nothing I didn't already mention.

Items in their bag/purse: When they're on roadies, his carry-on usually has: a sleeping mask, a book, phone charger, his meds/vitamins, noise-cancelling headphones, a pack of playing cards, an extra sweater, a Sudoku book + pencil, lip balm, pack of gum, snacks (assorted nuts, granola bars, and maybe an apple or banana), and a water bottle.

Hobbies: Other than playing hockey, he enjoys reading (especially mystery novels), playing video games (not really open world/story-based ones, but ones like Mario Kart, Mario Party, NHL The Show, MLB The Show, and fun party/co-op games), watching Star Trek, watching baseball and sometimes football, and doing puzzles (both brain puzzles and physical puzzles).

Favourite sport: Hockey, duh.

Abilities/talents/powers: He's very athletic (again, duh). He's a great hockey player. He's a pretty fast reader. He's an okay cook. He's good at brain puzzles (like Sudoku).

Relationships: At the beginning of the book, he's engaged to his high school sweetheart Eleanor Montgomery. Their relationship is very much based on emotional co-dependency from when they were teens. They "...fell in love young" and "What do seventeen year olds know about love anyway?" (-El). Not a healthy relationship on either end. Teddy pushes down his feelings and hides parts of himself around her and he ignores his gut telling him something's wrong.

With his teammates, he's much more comfortable. He's open and free and goofy. He lets himself relax and even lets himself break down at times. He still pushes down his feelings when around others a lot, and he isn't good at vocalizing his feelings with certain people. He's closest with his teammates James, Marcus, and Mickey.

Fears: Failure. Disappointing loved ones. The unknown.

Faults: Oh boy, he has many. He's a flawed individual, especially at the beginning of the book. Kind of touched upon it, but he's not good with feelings. Or at least he has a habit of shoving down his actual feelings to please others. He can be selfish at times without realizing it. He sometimes turns to alcohol and cigarettes to cope with his thoughts.

Good points: He cares so deeply about people. He's a hard worker. He's a good listener. He's open-minded. He's witty/can make people laugh.

What they want more than anything else: To win the Stanley Cup. But also just be happy with who he is.