#thanks so much for the ask kiddo!!! :D

[queenofbaws]

hi :) 🌩️

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

well hi yourself!!! ;)c i think i got a little something dumb lying around here somewhere...hehehe

“Uncle Jack?” “Mhm.” “What makes you so sure no one's gonna stop and ask to help? If we’re just standin’ out here, I mean?” “Well Bobby,” he said, throwing open the hatchback with a grunt, “that’d be because we’re a scary bunch, the five of us. Goddamn terrifying, as a matter of fact.” Bobby’s eyes flicked between the bunch of them, finishing on his own open hands. “Huh? How? We’re not scary.” “That’s cuz you’re not thinkin’ about it the right way,” Jack explained, and while he might not’ve been Chris’s favorite person on Earth, he did have to admit he appreciated how patient he always was with Bobby and the kids—none of his usual smartassery snaking through his rationale. “Nighttime, so anyone pulling up on us has headlights on to cut through the dark. What’re they gonna see in those lights as they drive up?” “Uh...a truck?” “After that.” “Us?” “Mmm. Five goons too solid to knock over with a pail of water, the lot of ‘em just skulkin’ around in the woods.” “Goons?” Travis sneered. “That’s what got you, huh?” Leaning over, he nudged him with the point of his elbow. “See, for me it was the pail of water thing. Where would you even get a pail full of water at this time of night, Jack? You tell me that.” None of the rest of them laughed at that, not even to snicker. Not even Caleb! Jerks. “I’m gonna need you to imagine you don’t know any of us from Adam for a tick now, Bobby. Never seen us a day in your life. You roll up on us, we probably don’t look all that warm and cuddly, huh? Fact, I’d go a step further—a stranger’d more like as not spot us and hit the gas while actively shitting their pants.” “Jesus Christ, Jack.” “Couldn’t blame them for it, either,” he just kept going, ignoring Travis completely. “Not with three of us looking like serial killers and the other two looking like out-and-out sex perverts.” There was a beat of silence as they absorbed that. Then, almost predictably, Bobby spoke up again. “Wait, which of us is which?” “Y’know what? Why don’t you boys go ahead and sort that one out on your own, hmm?” Chris rolled his eyes so hard he literally made himself motion sick. “For the last time, Jack, it’s 2021, a man should be allowed to wear shorts without getting accused of being a pervert! There’s nothing deviant about showing your knees! It gets hot out here, and—” “Welp,” Jack grunted, setting the traps down onto the asphalt. “There you go. The Boy Scout went and claimed that sex pervert role for himself. Now you just got one more to puzzle out. Take your time.”

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01

Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him

Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList

Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife

To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award

They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.

Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general. 

I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father

I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids

Thing is, that’s both your faults.

Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own? 

(Your husband is hot okay?)

In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.

I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.

His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.

He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.

He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible

Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.

While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves. 

For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.

But they had to build it themselves.

It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.

Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.

It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)

Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help

(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)

Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.

They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once

Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night

He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills

You had to help out here, no lie.

He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again

He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes

especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies

He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp. 

Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.

You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.

He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles

Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)

"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"

"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"

"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"

If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are

Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.

At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.

His arm is on your waist most of the time.

They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.

He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.

You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!

So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.

It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.

Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.

Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.

He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle

Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.

When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.

Oh no, hugs galore.

Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though

When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp

Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.

I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection

Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)

It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter

His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.

"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"

"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"

Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA

The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result

Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something

Ace is his kids’ hero.

His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.

His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating

You're relieved

Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving

Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better

When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”

Ace loves you so much he swears

[winterrrnight]

babe I just had the best idea for a rafe concept it pains me

Okay so imagine like reader is at work (somewhere idk where) and she just gets so overwhelmed but her and rafes relationship is still new so she doesn't call him because she doesn't wanna bother him....😭

I'm probably not the first person to think of this but it ON MY MINDDDD

literally dropped everything to write this!!!! this reader is way too me coded and I cannot :’) thank you so so much for the req vee 🥹💗 you asked for a concept… I wrote a fic…. :D I hope you like this vee <3

down for you

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe wants you to be able to rely on him for anything and everything.

WARNINGS: the reader is a preschool teacher and quite self dependent; lots of fluff; cute nicknames; lovesick rafe (my fav fr); minimal swearing

EDITH SPEAKS: this request speaks volumes to me 🥹 this is way too me coded, and I just had to write it, I hope you all like this! the ending is maybe a bit abrupt tho :( please like and reblog if you liked reading <3 feedback is always appreciated 🍹

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I should leave, I haven't yet, but when you smile, I just forget

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You can swear this day can't get any worse. You’ve been on your feet basically the entire day, always rushing from your students here to there. You love the little kiddos with your entire heart, but today, for some reason, they are being an extra pain in the ass. They aren’t as cooperative as you’d prefer; you don’t know what’s gotten into them, they are like little energy packets constantly running around.

Due to some teacher duties you aren’t even able to sit down for your lunch break, taking away the only 15 minutes you have to yourself. And it just gets progressively worse when you finally leave the school to go back to your place and your car has a slashed tire, and today had to be the day when you don’t have a spare tire in your trunk.

It’s been over 6 hours since you left your house this morning, and it’s just Tuesday, but it’s feeling like the longest, most excruciating week ever. You’re now leaning against your car door, letting out a deep exhale as you lean your head back, feeling a headache creep into your brain and pulse harshly. You’re tired, hungry, absolutely exhausted… and all you want are the warm hugs of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Rafe is quite a new addition in your life, both of you being together for a mere month. He’s been so loving to you, always protective and just genuinely taking great care of you.

You pull out your phone and find his contact, but before you can dial him, your thumb hovers over his name in sudden realization – he’s always at work at this time.

You begin to contemplate your initial decision of asking him to come here to help you out, and then ultimately decide against it, realizing he’s probably very busy at work, and would only be heavily distracted if you call him.

So, just like how you always do it, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It’s nearing 6 pm when you finally get to reach your place. You had to make calls to get yourself a mechanic to get your car fixed, who took his sweet sweet time to come to you. You’re now completely exhausted, wanting nothing more than just to plop on your bed and sleep till your heart desires. You can hear your stomach grumble since you never had the chance to eat the lunch you missed out on, but you make it a problem for later, deciding to just take a nap first.

As you drive into your driveway, you recognise Rafe’s black Range Rover already parked, with him standing next to it, leaning back against the hood of his car as he’s looking intently at his phone. As he catches the sound of your car driving, he instantly looks up, watching your car enter the driveway.

Before you can properly park and get out, Rafe rushes to you, opening the door for you.

“Oh my god where have you been?” He asks you, his voice laced with concern. “I tried calling you and texting you, you always come back home by late afternoon,”

You step out of the car and Rafe shuts the door, a hand quickly landing at the small of your back as you both walk to the porch of your house. He can see you’re really tired; droopy eyes, heavy steps, deep sighs; he knows something happened.

“Yeah my phone died,” you mutter as you unlock the main door of your house, both of you stepping inside. “I just… today was kind of a heavy day, nothing much honestly,” you shrug as you toss your keys in the dish and remove your coat and shoes.

“What happened?” Rafe asks, still really concerned for you as he watches you take off your cost and hang it on the coat rack. As you’re done, you face him with a small smile on your face.

“Nothing much, really,” you say softly, gently cupping his cheek with a hand and tenderly caressing his skin. “Don’t worry, yeah?” You mumble, taking your hand off his cheek as you make your way to the kitchen.

Rafe stays on your heels, following you and monitoring every single move of yours – your padding till the fridge, opening it, getting a bottle of water, unscrewing it and drinking from it.

“You look so exhausted, I can see it in your eyes,” he comments. “Your hair is all messy, your clothes are dirty; it’s clearly not nothing. Come on, tell me, what happened,”

His voice is stern, but not in an angry way; but in an apprehensive way. He moves his hand to your face, gently brushing your hair as he fixes some of the unruly strands.

As you finish drinking your water; drinking almost all of it in one go, you keep your bottle aside and let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “It was just one of those… heavy days, but it’s over now yeah? I’m now home,” you say softly.

“But just tell me what happened,” Rafe’s voice now drops to a whisper as he moves closer to you, continuing to weave his fingers through your hair.

You close your eyes for a moment, delving into the relaxing feeling of Rafe’s fingers softly combing through your hair, but also realizing he’s going to keep pressing for you to tell him what happened.

“The kids were a bit uncooperative today,” you say with a soft chuckle. “And then we have this event coming up at school, so I was busy for my entire lunch break preparing for it. And then my car had a flat tire and I didn’t have a spare so I had to get a mechanic, which took most of the time. But besides that, nothing much happened,” you say with a small shrug.

“Besides all that?” Rafe mutters incredulously. “That’s already a lot, baby, why didn’t you call me when you found out about your flat tire? I would’ve come; or sent someone to get you, we would’ve had lunch in my office, and I would have had someone take care of the tire and bring your car back too.” There’s a small frown on his face and he now holds your face in both his hands, gently skimming your cheeks with his thumbs.

You look up in his soft, baby blue eyes. “I did think of calling you but-”

“But?”

“But I thought…” you take a deep breath, your eye contact with him faltering. “you’ll be busy, and I didn’t want to be a burden to you, really, I was able to get it all fixed just fine,”

You can hear Rafe tsk; his tongue clicking against his teeth as he softly shakes his head. “I’m never busy for you okay? My work does not ever get more importance than you, okay? It never does, and it never will, especially when you’re in trouble and need help,”

He gently grips your chin and tips your head back just a bit, making you look at him. His eyes are softened, the blue even more warmer than usual.

“I know you prefer to do things on your own,” he whispers, “but you have to realise that you really don’t need to do each thing on your own, especially now that I’m around. I won’t mind, really, and besides, I would love to show everyone off at work that I am the boyfriend of the most beautiful person on this damn planet yeah?”

You can’t help but chuckle softly at his words as you keep looking in his eyes.

“So, promise me, next time you need any sorts of help, want me to do something for you, or just want me to be there, you don’t think twice about calling me up okay?” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He can see the reluctancy in your eyes, but you eventually give in and nod.

“Okay, promise,” you murmur, smiling as you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He gladly hugs you back, snuggling his face in your neck as he gently rubs your back.

“So…” you speak up, and he hums back in response, both of you still hugging.

“I’ll take up on that offer right now. I’ll go and shower, and you make something for me to eat yeah?”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

[luvfy0dor]

Helloo! I love your blog smm! could I request fyodor with a child reader that’s very curious about things and often ask him about lots of things and do often run from his sight cause they saw something that peaks their interests? ^^ so sorry that this request was kinda long 😭

“But Satisfaction Brought It Back ♡⁠˖” Dad!Fyodor w/ Child! Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; none

Description; Fyodor brings curious child!reader to the park, but after being essentially exiled from the playground by some randos, reader sees something moving in the grass and chooses to investigate

A/n: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I FEEL AWFIL, I HIPW ITS ACCEPTABLE AT LEAST </3 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE COMPLIMENTS

Headcannons;

★ Fyodor loves that you're curious, but sometimes the amount of questions you ask makes him wonder if your jaw ever gets tired from moving so much. He knows you didn't get that trait from him.

★ If you run away from him, he's walking after you at the fastest speed possible for him. He warns you not to go far because his stamina doesn't allow him to chase after you, but you still do it and it gets on his nerves a little. He knows you don't mean to, but it stresses him out like no other.

★ He often lets Nikolai tag along when he brings you to do fun stuff just in case he ends up needing the extra hand, and Nikolais ability is always great to bring you back to them.

Scenario;

You had one hand in Nikolais and one in Fyodors, happily walking along with them through a park near your home on a beautiful spring afternoon. They decided to have tea together earlier and figured it was a nice day for an outing. They picked you up and brought you to the park and sat on a bench next to one another while you ran off to climb on the playground. It didn't take long for you to socialize, immediately interacting with a girl your age. "Hey, you! Yeah, you with the blue shirt. You're not allowed up here, you don't have the password." You looked at the girl with confusion, grimacing and crossing your arms. "Well it's not your playground, I'm allowed up here if I want to! My papa brought me to play and that's what I'm gonna do." You reply, your eyebrows furrowed and a visible pout on your face.

"That's too bad! Scurry along, you peasant!" She sneered. It made you want to cry a little, but you bit your lip and stormed off. A small group of kids who seemed to be apart of her posse watched. You huffed and went to sit with your papa and uncle, plopping down on the bench. Fyodor and Nikolai instantly picked up on your sad demeanor. "Aw, what's wrong, Malyshka? Are you alright?" He asked, a hand rubbing your back sweetly. You nodde d and leaned into him, making him frown. "C'mon, kiddo, I'll play with ya if you'd like! We're those other brats mean to you?" He asks, bending down to your level. You shook your head and rubbed the oncoming tears out of your eyes. "No, they weren't..I'll go play again in a second, I just fell." Nikolai stands back up and rubs your head. "Alright, if that's what you'd like." He returns to Fyodors side, resuming their conversation. Fyodors comforting hand remained on your shouder for awhile before you decided to get back up. "M'going to play again, papa." You declared, humbly walking back over to the playground and settling for the swings. You sat down and started swinging your legs back and forth, watching the nature around you. You weren't too high in the air before you saw a something moving through the grass across the park. You dragged your feet to come to a halt and walked away from the swing set.

The closer you got, you could tell that the moving thing was actually a large, brown rabbit. Your eyes widened with excitement and you approached it further, following it through a patch of brush. The rabbit noticed you and jumped further into the woods, over logs and rocks. You followed it continuously, stumbling over the aforementioned obstacles trying to reach it. It was about this time where Fyodor noticed that the swing was sitting nearly perfectly still without you on it and his eyes immediately darted around the playground. When he couldn't find you, he called out your name, drawing the attention of the attention of the other kids. "I think I saw someone go down there." The girl from earlier pointed towards the woods. Fyodor cursed under his breath and made his way towards the forest as quickly as possible with Nikolai. "Y/n! Come back here!" He called out for you, worried and annoyed all at once. You had successfully pounced on the bunny, holding it in your arms and heading towards Nikolai and your papa again. You had now been satisfied in catching the rodent, an innocent expression on your face when your papa came into view. The rabbit was squirming in your grasp, but you held him out to your father.

"Papa, Uncle Nikolai, look what I caught!" Fyodor let's out a sigh of relief but places a hand on your back and guides you back to the playground. "Let that filthy animal go, sweetheart, it's probably diseased, and you cannot keep running off like that! I was worried sick, don't do that ever again." He says, a hand over his heart. You reluctantly let the rabbit go, turning to watch it dash off. "I'm sorry papa.." you mumble, grabbing at his cape. He sighs. "It's not fine, but I'm more happy that I found you than I am angry at you." He says, Nikolai nods in agreement. You sigh in relief and go to sit down on the bench, but Fyodor pulls you right back up by your shirt, like a kitten by the scruff. "No, you're going home to wash those rodent germs off of your hands, and then you're gonna pick up your bedroom while your at it." He says. You groan and accept the light punishment he gave. "Yes papa..." You weren't to upset about it all in all, because he could have been harsher on you, especially since you've repeatedly done this, but instead he only wanted you to clean your room; leaving the park and those mean kids behind isnt a loss in the slightest.

A/n; again I'm so sorry if this is bad, I feel horrible for it being so late but I'm locking in on my reqs now yall istg

[eepywriters]

dating younger quackity? like 2018-2019

.✦°. • Dating younger Quackity ( ´∀｀)

warnings: none^^

a/n: thank u so much for the request! This was super fun to write, took me back to 2019 when I started watching him :D either way hope you enjoy! (Sorry it took so long 😭 life’s been busy)

I feel like he’d be the type to fall in love with his best friend, or generally someone that he knows fairly well

Expect nights spent talking on the phone with him, laughing your asses off at memes and stupid games instead of doing homework

Or endless bike rides around the city, as if you didn’t do that one route million of times

Maybe even little lessons on the basics of boxing (he isn’t a very good teacher though, he’s too afraid to hurt you)

It comes naturally, his heartbeat starts to pick up every time he hears your voice, your laugh, you saying his name ugh

And you won’t stop leaving his mind, you’re always there, in every each one of his thoughts (might as well pay rent at this point)

Have you always sound this pretty?

Have you always been this pretty?

Before he knows it, he’s noticing all the little details that make you, well, YOU

He’s in love.

Fuck.

He wouldn’t know what to do about his feelings, either he ignores them and buries this secret deep into his heart, or, after a scary amount of convincing from his friends, he confronts you with the shyest demeanor you’ve ever seen him wear

Assuming this is one of his first experiences, if not the first, he would be very cautious in his actions, not sure yet about how to handle a relationship, especially if it gets more serious

He wouldn’t talk about being in a romantic relationship for a while, mostly cause he doesn’t like to share his personal life too much, especially when it comes to romance

But is there a teenage boy that doesn’t like to brag about being in a relationship?

Would mention it once, casually, you know, to be cool and all

Like “yeah I have a partner” a little smile to top it off, nothing big, just a bit of something to feel swag

Nobody believed him.

The loud boy who screamed about the president 24/7 having a partner? Yeah nice try kiddo, go back to play your stupid videogames

At some point in his young carrier he got tired about the running joke of you being an illusion

“This is what too much screen time does to a person KEKW” chat would say, haha how funny (if you hadn’t notice, he’s being sarcastic)

As frustrating as it was to battle against hundreds of people on whether HE was in a relationship or not, he’d never ask you to do anything you are uncomfortable in doing

So, even if showing up on stream would probably help with this little problem of his, he’d encourage you to actually think carefully if you want to make an appearance or not

“I do have a partner!” Alex says for what feels like the fiftieth time that evening. He should probably give up, after all who cares if chat doesn’t believe him. He knows the truth and that’s enough. Right?

WRONG.

His credibility, and his pride, are in the way. Plus is he even that bad of a catch for people to think he can’t pull?

His head falls onto his hand, resting there as he lets his thoughts run while the fast stream chat on his monitor lights up his face in various dull colors.

You were sitting on a little chair, not too far away from him, staring at something in your phone. He did feel bad for inviting you over just for him to stream an hour later, but you had always said that you didn’t mind watching him since you liked seeing him do something he enjoyed. As if he didn’t enjoy spending time with you, but fine.

So he put his insecurities aside, most of them being about you possibly not liking his streams, and provided you a chair to at least sit comfortably as he robbed you of your time by going live yet again.

It had been going fairly well: he was checking out some horrible games in Roblox, or rather he had been screaming his lungs out for an hour straight, and of course, when a random kid on Roblox asked him to be his girlfriend, chat got back on their “no relationship, you are a loser” (he knows it’s a long name, he couldn’t come up with anything better okay??) agenda.

Your hand waving in his peripheral vision brought him back from his mind: he hadn’t realized he had zoned out.

He looked at you briefly, almost feeling bad for the worried stare you were giving him. He usually doesn’t feel this defeated after an unserious bickering with chat, but to say that this all situation wasn’t playing with his self-doubts would be lying. He’s fine though, he just feels a little gloomy today.

You turn your head to the side and give him a thumps up, voicelessly asking whether he was fine or not. And he just nods, giving you a little, forced, smile before going back to the bright monitor. He doesn’t like the thought of you being concerned about this. While, admittedly, it does feel nice to have someone worried about him, Alex never quite liked to be a bother to anyone. He could handle this alone.

Then why is his head so heavy? And why does he feel without energy all of a sudden? He just needs to do what he does best: push the pain away and walk forward. But even something as easy as that sounds impossible right now.

Maybe he should end stream.

He’s too lost in his own thoughts to realize you had stood from your chair, steadily approaching his setup. When he realizes what’s going on, it’s too late.

“You don’t-“ before the frantic words can leave his mouth, you were already behind him. You cross your arms down his chest, whilst your head, resting on the top of his beanie, being high enough to not get seen by the webcam.

Many things were going trough Alex’s mind, a lot of them being about how nice it felt being hold by you, but only two words left his lips:

“Who’s got no game now, huh?”.

At that point it would go from chat not believing him to chat teasing him endlessly about him being a simp

You two could do nothing and he would still be accused of it, just because you were there

Is it true? Yeah, but it was nonetheless a bit annoying

He WOULD bully you on stream when the secret is out

Chat: “do you like (Name) or Thanos more? Don’t lie”

“Well…” he’d say, scratching his neck in faux uneasiness.

“Don’t think about it what the fuck!”.

His chat took your relationship quite well, after all the time he wasn’t famous enough to have fans being jealous and obsessing over him

Actually you became kind of an icon of his channel

And he did milk this for content but it’s not like you didn’t encourage him, quite the contrary, so expect videos like “playing Roblox with my partner” or “The best Habbo raid ever w/(Name)”

As sweet as this all can be, we haven’t forgot about his light teasing (borderline bullying) on stream, have we?

Don’t worry, you got back at him with the help of Aksel countless of time, he’d be your partner in crime when it came to bullying Alex

You were watching meme compilations with them on stream, occasionally sharing some little laughs and snarky comments, and, one way or another, you somehow ended up talking about shampoos. Yes, shampoos.

“Honestly, I think 2 in 1 are gross” Alex says, spinning around in his chair while still keeping an eye on the running chat. You were sitting next to him in your usual simple wooden chair that he usually stole from his kitchen. It wasn’t much, and you could feel your thighs getting painted with the hard design of your seat, but it feels very homy, heart warming in its simplicity.

Yet, as comfortable and happy as you felt, you really couldn’t help spatting out the comment that had been dancing dangerously on the tip of your tongue, begging to be freed.

“And what would you know about it you bald fuck”.

Silence filled the room.

.

.

.

You start to grow worried you stepped over the line as you shoot guilty side-glances at him, trying to evaluate whether he was or wasn’t okay with your stupid joke. His spinning was getting gradually slower, and his eyes wide and open jaw came to view.

You’re able to let out a silent sigh of relief as Alex’s face sinks into a, clearly exaggerated, offended pout.

“Have you heard them?? Defend me Aksel what the hell” he cries dramatically, his mindless spinning coming at a halt to stare into the soul of his screen, specifically at the man that is lightly grinning right back at him.

“I mean.. they’re kinda right man..” he mutters in his typical monotone voice, barely holding back an amused snicker.

Alex’s look of betrayal was probably the funniest shit you had seen in a while.

“Why are you two ganging up on a Mexican guy huh??”

“Awww the Mexican card? No better come back??” you laugh smugly, your face screaming “triumph” as he gawks at you.

“You truly found your match” Aksel laughs, adjusting his bucket hat as he leaned down on his office chair.

“Shut the fuck up” he mumbles before looking away from you with a huff.

Oh God does he love you.

Moving on though, these were harsh years for him, so he needs lots of love and support from his partner

I think it’d be too soon to have full on cuddling sessions, but i see him loving your touch, especially if it’s something domestic like a simple hug or a little caress down his back

Not really into PDA either, but he would find comfort in holding your hand whenever he’s tense or even just cold

It’s a reminder you are still by his side despite all of his flaws and insecurities, you chose him

(Ended up being way longer than I intended but had fun :D sorry for the long wait :( I had two very stressing weeks in the middle of writing this)

[ln4author]

𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖸 𝖣𝖮𝖭'𝖳 𝖪𝖭𝖮𝖶 𝖠𝖡𝖮𝖴𝖳 𝖴𝖲 — Charlie Bushnell fanfic (parts of instagram and chat au)

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THE STORY SPOILERS HAS ARRIVED!!!

@ellarue

liked by iamcharliebushnell, walker.scobell, tomsturridgeofficial, and others

ellarue Is it a LONG way to where our brother is?@tomsturridgeofficial (thank me, I made him create an account here)

↳ See comments

_____

tomsturridgeofficial No. Not fair. Are you happy now kiddo?

↳ ellarue Yes, I'm big bro <33

↳ tomsturridgeofficial <33 (I learned how to do it)

dior.n.goodjohn NO FUCKING WAY YOU'RE GOING TO BE DELIRIUM???? O H M Y G O D, I'M IN LOVE W U!

↳ ellarue I'M THE ONE WHO'S IN LOVE WITH YOU, TRUST ME!!!! CABIN 5 IS ONE OF MY FAVSS <33

↳ dior.n.goodjohn You already have the last name, when will our wedding be??------

walker.scobell So this is the profile of the much talked, Miss LaRue?

↳ ellarue It's a pleasure to meet you too, Mister Jackson

iamcharliebushnell I love sandman.

↳ dior.n.goodjohn Said the guy who watched an entire season in a day after a CERTAIN news came out...

↳ iamcharliebushnell I said I LOVE the series <33

↳ aryansimhadri I swore I heard that he had never seen the series before this CERTAIN news @dior.n.goodjohn

↳ leahsavajeffries "Please, be discreet" he asked

↳ iamcharliebushnell THANKS LEAH!!!!!!!!

user1 WHY IS THE ENTIRE PERCY JACKSON CAST HERE????

↳ user2 GIRLLL!!!!!! I think the news about her being Selena is true!!!!!!

↳ user1 AAAAAAAAAAA PLEASE NO! I need Ella as Thalia.

↳ user3 YES, RIGHT? SHE IS MY ONLY FANCAST FOR THALIA

user4 A DELÍRIO PERFEITA JURO. Não posso esperar a hora para te ver como ela (THE PERFECT DELIRIUM I SWEAR. I can't wait to see you like her)

↳ ellarue Muito obrigada meu bem <33 FALTA SÓ UMA SEMANA, NEM EU AGUENTO MAIS (Thank you so much my dear <33 ONLY ONE WEEK LEFT, EVEN I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE)

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@ellarue

liked by iamcharliebushnell, dior.n.goodjohn, leahsavajeffries, and others

ellarue LANÇOU!!!!!!! ASSISTAM AGORA A SEGUNDA TEMPORADA DE SANDMAN!!!!!!! LAUNCHED!!!!!!! WATCH NOW THE SECOND SEASON OF SANDMAN!!!!!!!

↳ See comments

___

_xochitl.gomez DELIRIUM HAS ARRIVED MYYY BESSTTTIIEEESSSS

↳ ellarue YESSSSSS BESSTTTTIIIIIIEEEEEE

↳ momonatamada Calling her a bestie, but I'm the one who will go to premier...

↳ _xochitl.gomez OH NO MOMONA YOU DON'T SAID THAT

↳ momonatamada YES I SAID

↳ _xochitl.gomez YOU KNOW WHY I CAN'T GO

↳ ellarue CAUSE U DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE.

↳ _xochitl.gomez NOT THIS AGAIN PLEASSSEEEEE

iamcharliebushnell OPENING NETFLIX NOW.

↳ ellarue aaaaaa this is so cute, tysm <33

↳ aryansimhadri @dior.n.goodjohn @walker.scobell @leahsavajeffries @lin_manuel @rickriordan SHE ANSWERED HIM!!!! RED ALERT!!!! SHE ANSWERED HIM!!!

↳ walker.scobell NO WAY, BROOOOOO WHAAAATTTTTTT

↳ leahsavajeffries Okay, even I'm surprised by this

↳ dior.n.goodjohn I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, CHARLIE JUST PASSED OUT!!!!!!!

↳ lin_manuel THIS IS MY SON, GET THAT GIRL!!!

↳ rickriordan DON'T BELIEVE HIM ANTONELLA, HE'S A NATURAL LIAR

↳ ellarue WTF HAPPENED???? (I trust you, Tio Rick)

↳ iamcharliebushnell I'll kill myself... ☠️☠️☠️

tomsturridgeofficial I love how chaotic your friends are

↳ ellarue Me toooooo, that's why I'm friends with these freaks

↳ tomsturridgeofficial how adorable <33

user1 Bro... Is it just me or does our crush have a crush in our ANOTHER crush?

↳ user2 Yesssssssss, our crush literally has a crush on our crush LMAO

↳ user3 Wait, so our crush is having a crush on our other crush?

↳ user4 This makes sense, since we have crushes on both of our crushes

↳ user5 Does our crush also have a crush on our crush, back?

↳ user1 Why did I start with this????

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@dior.n.goodjohn

liked by ellarue, leahsavajeffries, iamcharliebushnell, and others

dior.n.goodjohn WE FINALLY MEET, MY GIRLS!! @ellarue (my bride) and @leahsavajeffries (our daughter) 💞💞

↳ See comments

___

ellarue Bride??? We need to get married immediately.

↳ leahsavajeffries You guys wanting to adopt me, even though you're not even married yet

↳ dior.n.goodjohn HOW ABOUT WE GET MARRIED AT TOMORROW’S MEETING???

↳ ellarue PERFECT, WHY NOT?

iamcharliebushnell your bride is our bride *insert that communist rabbit*

↳ dior.n.goodjohn Really, Bushnell? REALLY?

↳ walker.scobell He's unstoppable bro, unstoppable.

↳ aryansimhadri @lin_manuel Look at the things your son says

↳ iamcharliebushnell Aryan, please stop tagging him every time, he is THE gossip girl, he will tell everyone

↳ lin_manuel AM I THE GOSSIP GIRL, SON?????? THE GOSSIP GIRL?????

↳ dior.n.goodjohn TALARICO RASPA A CANELA BUSHNELL KKKKKKKKKKK

↳ iamcharliebushnell WHAT A HELL??????

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@iamcharliebushnell

liked by walker.scobell, dior.n.goodjohn, ellarue, and others

iamcharliebushnell NO, I'M NOT A LOST SON OF POSEIDON

↳ See comments

___

ellarue Luke Castellan = bonitinho, mas ordinário kkkkkkk

↳ iamcharliebushnell Is the translation correct?? Did you really say "cute"? AGAIN???

↳ ellarue In fact, it's more "beautiful" or "pretty boy"

↳ iamcharliebushnell WAIT, YOU CALLED ME PRETTY BOY????SIOXJIZKSJDISODJPOJIODJHDJBN

↳ ellarue I'm not lying, am I?

↳ dior.n.goodjohn Yeah, now he's dead, great Ella

↳ walker.scobell AEEEEEEE SHE KILLED LUKE FOR ME

↳ lin_manuel Being called "pretty boy" is one thing, now being called "BONITINHO", congratulations, son, you won.

↳ aryansimhadri MANUEL IS RIGHT, BONITINHO IT'S OTHER LEVEL

↳ leahsavajeffries Take note of today, gossip sites, because today was the day he died.

user1 MANO KSKSKSKSKSKSKKSKSK A ANTONELLA CHAMANDO ELE DE BONITINHO E ELE QUASE MORRENDO KSKSKSKSKKSKSKSKSKKSKSK (BRO LMAO ANTONELLA CALLING HIM PRETTY AND HE ALMOST DIE LOL )

↳ user2 QUE FOFURA MEU DEUS (HOW CUTE MY GOD)

↳ user3 Eu não acredito que tô shippando eles, sério, não tem como não shippar (I can't believe I'm shipping them, seriously, there's no way not to ship them)

↳ user4 REALLY!!! THEY'RE THE CUTEST

↳ user5 I don't ship them, but I think their friendship is cute

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Hey darlingss, these were just some spoilers of what's to come in this story and I took it very lightly... I didn't even mention the fights... wait, did someone say something? <33

THE FIRST EPISODE HAS BEEN RELEASED!!

[reysdriver]

One Call | E.M.

Eddie calls you to pick him up from the police station — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: eddie gets taken to the police station for peeing in the lake lol

words: 0.8k

“Alright, you know the drill. Someone’s gotta pick you up; you get one call.” Your dad told Eddie, even though they had been through this routine before. “Your uncle again?”

Eddie shook his head. “Nah, Wayne’s out of town. Fishing trip with his buddies. He told me not to bother him unless it’s an emergency.”

“This doesn’t qualify as important enough to call?” One of the officers piped up. 

Eddie turned his neck to look at the cop. “Nope. This is just a normal Tuesday for me.”

Your dad held the phone out for your boyfriend. “Well, you got anyone else you can call?”

Eddie held back a mischievous grin, taking the phone. “I have one person I can call, but I don’t think you’re gonna be happy about it.”

✦✧✦✧✦

You rushed down to the station as quickly as possible, only making one stop along the way to grab a peace offering from Benny’s. Before going inside, you looked through the window to scan the tone of the building, making sure it was okay to go inside. 

You opened the door and saw Eddie in handcuffs at one of the officers’ desks, twirling a pen with his fingers. Before he got the chance to look up at you, your dad came out from his office looking surprised to see you. 

“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing here?” He asked. 

You held out the take-out bag for him. “I, uh, I brought you lunch.”

“She’s got ulterior motives, Hopper!” Eddie piped up from across the room. You turned and shot him a glare, along with a whispered 'shut up'. 

Your dad looked confused, now starting to understand the food you brought. "What's he talking about?"

There was an awkward silence as you tried to figure out how to word the reason you were really here. 

"Well, Dad, I'm also here to pick Eddie up." 

He dropped the takeout bag on the nearest desk and pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, who sported a smirk. 

“This punk?” Your dad asked, raising his voice. “You’re friends with this punk?”

Much to your dismay, Eddie spoke up again. “Dating, actually. But I can’t believe it either, Hopper, honestly.”

Even in the tensest of moments, your Eddie still finds a way to flatter you. You wanted to smile and thank him, but then you remembered he was just brought into the police station and hadn’t told you why, so you stopped yourself. 

“Yeah, Dad, I am. And I know that you can’t stop me from bailing him out, so give me the form to sign.”

The officer whose desk Eddie was sitting at handed you a clipboard and a pen so you could sign and say that you would bail him out and keep him out of trouble for the time being. You flashed a cocky smile to your dad and started filling out the blanks. 

Your dad rubbed his forehead like he was tired of everyone around him—which he was. “Don’t give her the clipboard until I’m done scolding her.” He mumbled. 

“You know I brought him in for pissing in Lover’s Lake with his punk friends, right?”

You did not know that. But you weren’t going to let him win this round. 

“Oh, like Lover’s Lake isn’t already full of piss!” You countered.

“Is that really the hill you want to die on?” 

You forcefully handed the completed clipboard to the officer while rolling your eyes. 

“I don’t want to die on any hill, I just want to pick up my boyfriend!”

Eddie gasped happily as the man took off his handcuffs. “She called me her boyfriend.”

You had to admit, it made you happy too. Even though you were mad at everyone in the room, your angry expression morphed into a smile. “I know, it felt good to say.” You then turned back to your dad. “I’m going now. If you have more to say to me, we can talk tonight.”

With that, you and your boyfriend started walking towards the door. He opened it for you and motioned for you to go first. You started to walk out, but shot a glare at Eddie as you walked by. He messed up and he knew it. 

Before Eddie closed the door behind you, your dad shouted one last thing at you. “You know, kid, just ‘cause he’s out of trouble, doesn’t mean you are!”

You looked back at him through the doorway. “Oh, believe me, Dad, he’s not out of trouble yet!”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 9

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You don’t go straight home. You don’t want to upset your mom. So, you wander the suburbs, walking around cul-de-sacs, some you’ve never been down, and circling around the avenues. You pass mothers and fathers with strollers and children running and yelling on green lawns. It’s as if you’re walking through a utopia, floating by like a cursed wraith. 

You glance down at the book in your hand. Maybe you should try some lighter reading. Your mind tends to go to dark places. 

When at last you let yourself go back to the house, you do so cautiously. You don’t see Steve or your mom. As you come to the front door, you wonder if you should knock. You quietly let yourself in, gently closing the door as you stand on the mat. You leave your shoes on the low rack and tiptoe down the hall. Your mom can’t be mad if she doesn’t know you’re there. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Steve’s voice as you tripping over your own feet. You turn to the archway as you pass and peer in. Your mother’s in her recliner, her eyes closed. Is she sleeping? You watch her warily. “How was your walk?” 

“Um,” you blink and shrug, “fine.” 

He stands by the window, his hand on the wall beside it. Did he see you come up? You hadn’t noticed him behind the curtain. 

“Breakfast for you in the oven. Won’t be very warm but if it’s no good, I can start a new batch,” he offers. 

“Don’t bother with all that,” your mother grumbles and shifts in her chair, groaning as she shakily rubs her cheek. Her eyes open only slightly. “She can warm ‘em up.” 

“Always better fresh,” Steve stands straight and faces you fully. 

“Thanks.” 

You leave them with the single word. You feel like an intruder. You stop by your bedroom and hover in indecision. You just want to hide but you would hate to be rude. Steve went to all that trouble and you know, even as your mother says he’s already done too much, she’d be even more upset if you wasted his effort. 

You put your book on the foot of your bed and go down to the kitchen. You take out the pancakes, content enough to have them cold. There’s a bottle of real maple syrup. Steve must’ve supplied that; you can’t afford the pure stuff. You don’t use very much, mindful of the expense of the sugary nectar. 

You grab cutlery and bring the plate to the table. You sit alone. You can hear the hum of the ceiling fan from the front room and the dulcet song of birds floating in through the windows. Steve’s low tone rolls through the din but you can’t make out his words. You mother answers his with short mutters. She’s not having a very good day. You're surprised he stayed this long. 

The pancakes are good, even at room temperature. They’re fluffy and taste richer than the frozen ones you get a bargain on. Is that blueberry too? With each bite, your hunger clenches your stomach tighter, mulching down the food greedily. When you finish, your body growls and aches. 

You wash off your plate and put it in the tray. The lull of the house thickens as you pad down to your room. You slow as you near the door frame. Had you closed it? You can’t recall. 

You turn into the room and let out a noise of surprise. Steve looks over as he stands over the folding table, his hand on your sketchbook, a page half-turned. Your heart drops as you clasp your hands together. 

“Sorry, er, didn’t mean to...” he rescinds his hand and lets the page flutter down, “It was open and...” you don’t know whether he means the door or the book. “You’re really talented.” 

Your forehead crinkles and you charge towards him. You step around him and shut the book, swiping it up. He leans back on his heel. 

“I didn’t... I wasn’t trying to...” he sputters, “I just wanted to pass something by you.” 

You hug your sketchbook at you face him. You stare at this chest. You feel violated. Not just that he’s in your space but he touched your stuff. The one thing that’s really yours; your drawings. 

“Me and your mom were talking, you know, and she said it would be good for you to get out, maybe make some extra money,” he explains, “and I’ll be around so you won’t need to worry about her so much.” 

You frown. You and your mother have had this talk a billion times. Get off your ass and get a job. It’s not like you haven’t tried. 

“So, I got some work you can do. Like I said, I gotta get that pool open,” he continues, “and there’s little things around the house. You got a good hand so maybe some painting here and there.” 

You push your shoulders up. You don’t think you can say no, especially if he’s already said as much to your mom. You half-suspect this is her doing. 

“Complementary milkshakes?” He offers breezily. 

You’re quiet. You have no choice. You know as much. 

“You know,” he softens his tone, “if I’m gonna... hang around with your mom, we should get to know each other. It’s a good opportunity for us.” 

“Fine,” you answer. 

“Fine? So that’s a yes?” He asks. 

You close your eyes and flick them open, “yes.” 

“Great. Well, when can you start? How about tomorrow? Supposed to be another sunny day.” 

“Okay,” you agree, “tomorrow.” 

He doesn’t move. You want him to leave. The conversation is over. He got what he wants and your mom too. He’ll pay you dimes to clean the pool and your mom will reap the profit. 

“You know, I draw a little too,” he points to your sketchbook, “maybe if we have time tomorrow, I can show you.” 

“Maybe,” you mutter. 

“Ah, uh,” he chuckles bashfully and rubs his neck, “right, I'm in your way. Well, er, I’ll leave ya be.” He turns and struts to the door. He stops just inside the frame and looks back, “oh, how were the pancakes?” 

You take a breath and stay staring at the wall, “good.” 

“Great, did you have some of the syrup? It’s Canadian.” 

“Yeah,” you turn and tuck your sketchbook into your dresser draw. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, sweetie,” he taps the wall and the door closes with a click. 

You sit on your bed and hunch over to hold your head. It’s still heavy from the night before and now you’re even more tired than before. You don’t know if it’s from being out in the sun or all the walking you did, but your eyelids feel dry and seem to cling with each blink. You yawn and bring your legs up, curling your body up near the edge of the bed. 

You know you shouldn’t sleep in the middle of the day, but you just can’t help yourself. 

🏠

You wake up in the haze of the late afternoon. Your eyes hurt and your limbs are achy. You lay on your back as the curtains stir with the lazy breeze. You look over to find them open but you don’t remember pulling them apart. You barely remember anything past your awkward morning stroll. 

It takes you a while to push through the stiffness. You never sleep on your back; it leaves it racked and your ribcage hurts. As you stand, you notice the door. It’s slightly open. 

You get up and go to it, pull it inch by inch. The house is quiet but for a soft rumble, rhythmic and rocky. You putter down the hall and look into the front room. Your mom’s asleep in her chair. She’s almost peaceful as she snores in the recliner. 

The scene strikes you as odd, almost dreamlike. Your mom’s never been much of a napper. In fact, she always nagged you about the habit. You think of waking her but think better of it. She won’t be happy to be awoken, even if she might be irritated later to know she slept away the day. 

Steve is gone. You search each room to be sure then go to the kitchen. It’s clean and everything is put away, even the dishes you left in the tray. The large bottle of syrup is gone as well. 

You mutter and go back to your room. Another soft wind drifts in. You stumble over to your bed and fall back onto it. You yawn again. Gosh, you’re so tired. 

[pinejayy]

➤ My Fire Flame~ || Portgas D. Ace x Reader!

summary: reader feels insecure about their body and their part in the crew. so they want to leave the crew but ace won’t allow them, and he’ll show them how much he appreciates them and their body.

request by: @sky-skys-world

warnings: smut!! afab reader!! some swearing, fingering, oral (reader receiving) , unprotected sex.

a/n: oof sorry if this took longer than expected but I hope you enjoy!! // please let me know if there’s any mistakes.

✦•·················• 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃!! •·················•✦

You watched everyone laughing from a distance, the crew decided to throw a huge party after a successful raid against an other pirate crew, the crew were drinking and eating their hearts away. While you were sulking in a corner watching everyone getting drunk and giggling at each other. As you watched the party some of your crew members tried inviting you to the party but you would smile and refuse kindly. Not noticing the cold eyes towards you, foot steps started to reach your way until someone certain was standing in front of you.

“Hey Kiddo. Why aren’t you with the rest of the crew? Don’t feel like drinking?”

Jumping slightly at the sudden voice and you sigh and look up and see Ace. “Oh hey Ace.” You simply say, avoiding his question. He took a seat next to you and hums softly. “I don’t know. I’m just feel under the weather that’s all no need to worry.”

“Y/N.. Come on join the party, grab a drink with me and let loose. After all you are part of this crew right.” He said and looks over you, giving you an innocent smile. Looking at him, letting out a deep sigh and shake your head.

“That’s okay, sorry I just don’t feel good…monthly problems.” Lying as you spoke and Ace just sighed. “Well I can’t argue with that. Come on allow me to walk you to your room.” He said and stood up but you quickly shook your head.

“Oh no no. It’s okay! No need to walk me!” You say and quickly stand up and shake your head. And try to walk off before he could speak but he didn’t allow you to leave quite yet.

Ace raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Aw come on kiddo, I’ve walked you back to your room before.” Grabbing your arm and he started to walk towards your room and away from the party and music. Struggling against his grip, he couldn’t see your room…no.

Your room was basically empty…it was filled with duffle bags of your belongs and clothes. You were planning on leaving this crew and hide away from everyone. Honestly these thoughts about your place in the crew have been on your mind for weeks now. And you’ve been looking for the perfect example to run off. And tonight was prefect considering everyone was gonna be wasted but Ace was in the way.

As he walked you towards your room…well more like drag you there you keep struggling against him. “Ace…look I can walk myself.”

“You seem nervous why is that?” He teased softly and before you knew it you guys were in front of your room.

“Oh thanks! Now if you will excuse me now! Look at the time! It’s late!” You say nervously, and rip away from his grip and try to make your way into the room but he quickly blocked your way. “Wait Y/N..”

“Goodnight Ace..” You say softly, and by some miracle you squeeze your way between him and open your door and before you could close it, he blocks it with his foot. Making you groan. “What?”

“Hey hey. What’s your problem? You usually let me tuck you into bed. Not tonight??” He said, and you look down. “It’s nothing Ace, just not feeling good.” You say, trying to close the door on him but he wouldn’t allow it.

“Y/N. I’m serious. You’ve been acting weird lately.” He said making you stop in your tracks and Ace took the opportunity to push himself in, gasping at the sudden action. You began waving your hands in front of his face.

“You’re leaving the crew?” He asked softly, looking down at you. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him. And all you could do was nod. “Does Whitebread know?!”

“No! Of course he doesn’t…”

Ace looks at you and slowly he closes the door and with a quick motion. “So you’re just gonna leave us?! Without telling us? Or anyone?!” He raised his voice at you, and he couldn’t help but feel betrayed and angry towards you. “You were going to leave me…without telling me.”

“Ace…it’s not like that.”

“YES IT IS! WHY WOULD YOU WANNA LEAVE?” He suddenly yelled at you. Making you flinch at his sudden outburst.

“Ace please calm down.”

“WHY?!” He yelled once again before taking a deep breath and looks at you. “Please tell me…why. I thought you loved this crew…” He looked visibly upset, and you could have sworn you heard his voice crack as he spoke to you.

“I do love this crew! I just can’t..”

“Can’t what?” He said and he started to walk towards you. “Tell me! I deserve to know! Please Y/N.” He said and tears started to form in the corner of his eyes.

“I’M JUST NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR THIS CREW!” You suddenly snap at him. “Sorry I didn’t mean to tell you at Ace.”

“What do you mean you’re not good enough?! You’re more than good enough! You’re prefect…”

“I’m the weakest of the whole crew…I have the lowest bounty…I don’t deserve to be apart of the crew..” You say and we’re on the edge of breaking down in front of him and he just stood there.

“Y/N…stop with this bullshit. Everyone has their part in this crew. And that includes you. You’re not weak, you hear me.”

“Please stop lying to me…look at me.” You said and point at your body. “I’m not like everyone else in this crew….I’m more squishy….and I’m not like the other people…”

That was the final straw for him, he couldn’t just stand there as you talked down to yourself and he grabbed your chin and made you look directly at him. “Nonsense! You’re prefect! Your smile is prefect…your eyes are as beautiful as the ocean. And you’re definitely not weak Y/N.”

“But I am…Ace.” You say and try to move away from him but his grip from your chin wasn’t letting go. “Ace…please…why do you care so much about me…I’m no one special.”

“THATS ENOUGH!” He yelled and sighed and lets go of your face. Running his hand over his face, before taking a deep breath. “That’s enough Y/N.. I won’t stand here allowing you to talk so badly about yourself and I definitely won’t allow you to leave this crew. You’re too important for the crew…” He said, he couldn’t help but look away from your eyes. “You’re too important to me…I can’t allow you to leave…I just can’t.”

“Important? How am I so important to you?”

“God…I was going to tell you this sooner but I guess now it’s the perfect time to tell you how I really feel about you….” He said and you were about to speak up and he held a finger to keep you quiet. “The first time I’ve ever laid eyes on you it was like my chest was burning. It was like love at first sight…I love everything about your. Your smile, your laugh and I especially love how devoted you are to help this crew out..god you have no idea how much I love you Y/N. I love you so fucking much! I think about you when I sleep!” He said and took a step closer to you, closing the gap between the both of you. Placing a hand on your check, wiping the few tears you had. “I love you so much…please don’t leave me.”

You were shocked at his words, he loves you? “Ace? Is this true…you love me?”

He nodded. “I do…you can’t leave. You’re too precious. You’re too important.” He pleaded and grabs your hand and squeezes it slightly. “You’re perfect Y/N. You mean a lot to me.”

“But….”

Ace places a finger over your lips. “But nothing..you’re prefect in every way.” Turning red from his words you were star struck. And he spoke up once again. “Please allow me to show you how beautiful you.”

“I…uh…how?”

“Please just give me permission…please say yes…you have to say yes.”

Not being able to speak all you could was nod. And immediately leans in and places a gentle kiss against your lips. Wrapping his arms around your waist, bringing your body against his. You didn’t kiss back right away since you were shocked. You couldn’t believe that Ace confessed his love for you. Honestly you’ve always had a crush on Ace but were too scared to tell him anything. Now look at you. He literally has his body pressed against yours while your lips are locked.

As time passes up you gave into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and returning the kiss. He couldn’t help but groan against your lips. Ace wasted no time to deepen the kiss, licking your lip asking for permission to which you gladly granted and opened your mouth. And he wasted no time, sliding his tongue into his new territory and he used his tongue to explore your mouth.

Moaning softly into the kiss, god you didn’t know this man could kiss like there was no tomorrow. Ace couldn’t help but brush his tongue against yours. Both tongue’s fighting over dominance.

Before things could get more heated he pulled away from the kiss. Leaving a string of saliva between your guys lips. “Please Y/N. May I have permission….may I have the honor of showing you how much I love you.”

“Oh…Ace..” You say softly and looking into his beautiful eyes and all you could was nod. And he smiled and in a quick motion he picked up and walks towards your head and placed you gently on the bed.

As he laid you on the bed his lips slowly made their way to your neck. Planting soft and gentle kisses against the skin of your neck. “You’re so beautiful…very beautiful.” He mumbled. Dragging his tongue along your neck. Making your shiver and moan softly. And he drags his hands over your body. Feeling every curve and every part.

And as he dragged his hands along your body, his hand made their way to your bottoms. “Do I have permission?” He asked softly. Still planting kissing along your neck. Trying to find your sweet spot.

“Yes..” You moan softly, and as you lay there enjoying the attention your neck was getting. You suddenly gasp as he kissed a certain spot on your neck making him smirk along your skin. “Ah found it.” He mumbled and focused on that spot. Sucking onto the skin slightly, he couldn’t help but nibble onto the skin slightly. He began to tug onto your shirt slightly and you just nodded and he licks his lips and moved away slightly and helped you remove your shirt and threw it across the room. And he also removed his cowboy hat and threw it to the side. And he went back to kissing and biting your neck.

As you were busy moaning underneath him, his hands slowly started to undo your bottoms and his kisses got lower as well. Slowly his kisses trailed down to your shoulder, then to your collar bone and on your chest. “This…this is in the way.” He said softly. And started to tug on your bra. “May I?”

You were a bit hesitant but you nodded. He dragged his fingers along your body and chest. And slowly he undid your bra and removed it and threw it to the side. And he looks back to you and your face was burning red and you hand your hands over your chest. “Don’t be shy. And don’t cover your beautiful body from me.”

He leans in again and kisses your stomach. And he grabbed your hands and slowly removed them away from your chest. And you didn’t put much of fight. And once your chest was exposed he lets out a long whistle. “Wow you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

Leaning in once again, he placed gentle kisses along your chest. And soon after he took in one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked on them slightly. Making you arch your back in pleasure. “Wow. Youre already shaking with this? Just wait until I’m done with you .”

And as Ace keeps toying with your sensitive nipples with his tongue he slowly started to undo your bottoms and tug them down slightly and you took notice in his and help him out. He removed your bottoms along with your underwear. Now completely naked…you couldn’t help but blush. And he pulled away to take in your beauty. “So beautiful…so fucking beautiful.”

He made sure you were comfortable before he could do anything else. He leans in again and places his lips against yours. His hand traced along your lips giving a slight pinch making you gasp out and little by little is fingers went lower and lower until they reached your wet core. You were lost into the heated kiss that you didn’t notice that his fingers were almost touching your wet heat.

He slowly spreads your legs with his hands and gently traces a finger along your clit making you gasp out and whimper. Pulling away from the kiss. “Ace..”

“Hm yes?” He said, looking down at you. Slowly rubbing your clit. “Yes my fire flame?”

You groan as you heard his voice, it was filled with lust. “I give you permission…”

That’s all Ace needed, and he couldn’t help but smirk to himself. He was definitely going to keep you up all night. Rubbing small circles on your clit, making you moan underneath him. And without wasting time he slowly moved his hand away from your clit making you growl softly and before you could say anything he inserted one finger inside your needy hole.

He slowly started to move it in and out of you making your moans get louder. And you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that you were going to cover your mouth to muffle out your moans but Ace took notice on this and grabbed your hand before you could silence your pretty little moans. “Aw come on baby. Don’t do that I want to hear your sweet little moans.” He said and let’s go of your arm.

“But…ahh mmm… what if someone sees us.” You say between your moans, making him laugh slightly.

“Don’t worry about it…” He began saying and slowly he inserts an other finger inside of you. Moving both fingers upwards making you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Everyone is drinking remember. Everyone is getting drunk…and while everyone is getting drunk on booze. I’m gonna get pussy drunk.” He chuckled. Making you whimper and moan at his words.

Ace felt your walls tighten around his fingers and he quickly removed them before you could reach your climax.

“Ace!!” You whine out. “I was so close.”

“Oh I know.” He said and removed his fingers and he couldn’t help but bring his fingers to his mouth and suck on them. Moaning softly at the taste of your juices that coated his fingers.

Not going to lie as you watched this you couldn’t help but feel more turned on. And soon after Ace pulled his fingers out of his mouth. Moaning at the taste.

“God you’re gonna get me drunk Y/N.” He groans and before you could say anything. He was already between your thighs. Spreading them even more. And this man wasted no time to tease you…well at least not for today. He needed to taste you…more directly.

Before you could react or say anything he already had his tongue between your folds, dragging his tongue along your folds and moaning at your taste.

You couldn’t help but drag your fingers in his hair, pulling on it slightly. “Ace…” You moan loudly, throwing your head back.

“So good…good..” He moans softly, mumbling between your heat.

How tongue made its way to your clit and he focused on it. Toying with it with his tongue. And soon after your toes curled in pleasure. You never knew you could feel this good.

Your moans got louder and you felt your stomach began to tighten making you whimper. And with a few more licks to your clit. You couldn’t help but moan loudly. “Ahh A-ACE…” Before reaching the best orgasm in your life.

Ace gave you a few more licks before pulling away. And he stood on his knees and slowly he started to undo his pants. And he watched you, and you were a panting and shaking mess.

“Ahh look at you. All this just with my fingers and tongue beautiful? God wait until I fuck you with my cock.” He teased and slowly he started to undo his pants and he was painfully slowly.

God…this was going to be a long and pleasant night for you~

After awhile he finally removed his pants and he cock sprung up. And it stood up with all its glory. And he was big. You weren’t sure if it was gonna fit…

But this made you blush and you sit up and you wanted to return the favor so you wrap your hand around his cock and slowly moved it making him groan. He grabs your hand and moving it away.

“Tonight is about you my love.” He said and pins you against your back. “But maybe for some other day. I just need to make you feel special. And to officially make you mine.”

As your back was against the bed, he positioned himself between your legs. And with the tip of his cock he started to tease you slightly. And slowly he placed the tip of his cock in your entrance. And slowly he started to sink himself into you and into your warmth. Making him groan under his breath.

“Just let me now.. when this becomes to much for you.” He said softly, and started to make his way in fully. Making you moan and tear up slightly. Stretching you up.

Yup…he was big. It was painful. And he took notice and he was about to pull away but you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Just give me some time…please. I need this..”

Ace just nodded and stayed still, until you nodded after awhile. “Okay I’m ready.”

And he wasted no time, he began to move in and out of you slowly. Not wanting to hurt you. “Are you okay my fire flame?”

You just nodded and bite your lip. “Yes…”

“Good…good fire flame.” He said and leans in and catches your lips with his. And his pace was gentle and slow. Both tongues meeting each other once again. And you couldn’t help but moan into the kiss. “More…Ace please.”

And this man wasted no time to do so. Grabbing your hips and holding them in place and he took a moment to stop and you nodded once again and he started to pick up the pace of his movements.

He pulled away from the kiss, and both of you guys were panting heavily.

Your sweet moans were getting to Ace and he couldn’t help but slam his hips against yours causing you to scream out in pleasure. “Ace…baby! Please..I’m close.”

He groans and keeps his pace going. He felt your walls tighten around him. Ace grip around your hip tighten. “Yeah I know baby…”

You were so lost in your pleasure that one of your hands made their way to your clit and you rubbed it slowly so you could reach your climax faster.

“Now…please Y/N…cum with me.” He pleaded. And you couldn’t help but whimper at that.

And soon after both of you guys reach your guys climax and you couldn’t help but tug into his slightly. Panting slightly, Ace chuckled at your cute reaction. Before giving a few more thrusts he pulled out making both of your groan out. And he watched as his seed dripped out of your hole.

You were a shaking mess. And Ace couldn’t get enough of it.

He laid besides you and wrapped his arms around you, bringing you close to him. Inhaling your sweet scent.

“That was amazing, Ace..” You breathe out, and snuggle against him.

“I love you Y/N…”

You stayed quite as your heard his words. Before speaking up again. “I love you too Ace.”

“Please don’t leave the crew. You’re too important to this crew and to me.” He pleaded and snuggled against you. Burying his face into your neck. “Please.”

Making you sigh out and you wrap your arms around him. “I promise I won’t leave you Ace.”

And you guys lay there, enjoying each other’s company . “But for now let’s get some rest my fire flame. I need rest for tomorrow.”

“How come?”

“Well besides fucking you again.” He said, making you blush and hide your face into his neck. Making him laugh slightly before he spoke up again.

“I need to confront a pirate by the name of Blackbread.”

[sinner-for-starker]

"Come on, bambino, be a champ and take daddy's cock." Tony whispers to his son as he pressed his tip against his son's cunt. Peter was slowly reduced into a babbling mess with tears running down his cheeks as he relaxes his cunt around his dad's big cock.

"Too big." Peter hiccups- eyes wide- looking so sinful with moist cherry red lips- flushed pale skin and glassy doe eyes. "D-daddy- it's- you're too big for me!"

"Oh no- is my little kiddo feeling sore with just daddy's tip inside his cunt?" Tony asks in a fake condescending manner, he reaches in between them and began playing with the boy's clit, the boy shrieks- arching his pretty back off of the bed. "You can do it, sweetie pie, you're daddy's good boy right? You want to be daddy's good boy?"

Peter whines and nods promptly, "Y-yes! Yes- Am- Am daddy's good boy." his kiddo says in a more confident tone. Tony could feel his son's walls relaxing around him but fuck- the boy was still so fucking tight around his thick cock.

"That's it- that's it, m' boy, just like that- fuuuuck- fuck you always feel so good around daddy's cock, my love, the light of life." Tony praises Peter as he began moving his hips in a slow gait, his hips snapping with hard fervor as he forces his cock deeper into his son's smaller cunt.

Peter's small moans and movements of his hips to meet Tony's pace was enough of an indication that the boy was enjoying it- with tears running down his cheeks, Tony leans close and licks the boy's cheek before pressing his mouth against Peter's lips, locking his son into a feral saliva-exchange while Tony pounded his cock, hitting every spot that makes Peter squeal into his mouth.

"Da-dad! Daddy! Am gon- gonna cum daddy!" Pete wails into Tony's mouth.

"Go ahead kiddo, come on, cum on your father's cock, make a mess, give it all to your daddy, bambino." Tony growls as he hammered his hips harder and faster into Peter's pink cunt that was now squirting and gushing cum on his cock. With three more deep thrusts, he cums with a low grunt, his hips wavering and stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt, filling his son womb with his potent cum.

"Mmm- daddy- so full." Peter says in a gibberish manner, already cock drunk and hazed with pleasure, eyes half closed as he looked at Tony.

"Of course, baby, gotta have my kiddo full and well-bred right?" Tony whispers, pressing kisses against his son's temple, pulling him closer for a hug while his cock stayed inside his son's cunt.

Peter doesn't answer but Tony chuckled when all he could hear were soft snores from his baby boy.

"Good night, 'bino. I love you so much." Tony says tenderly, tucking his kid in with his arms wrapped protectively around his son.

This is dedicated to my baby boy: @tnpt-depravity, I hope you like it my love. And thanks to starkercest fam for encouraging me to write, you peeps are amazing and I'm glad I met y'all.

[jasmines-library]

I think I visit your blog an unhealthy number of times bc it's just my go-to for some good old fashioned hurt/comfort and it's just. You are such an incredible writer 😭❤️!! could I request a batfam fic where the reader undergoes a depressive (or numb) episode/the vibe that comes with a character just falling down wordlessly on the couch and the other character saying "bad day?" and the character nodding and giving them a blanket // if this is too specific absolutely no worries, either :D! any and all characters are alright, thank you so much!! please take your time with the requests and I hope you have an awesome rest of ur day :]!!

Aww anon! That’s so cute! I hope you enjoy and I hope you’re doing okay! :)

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WHUMPTOBER DAY TWENTY :Prompt: necrosis/wound cleaning.

Warnings: numbness and a depressive episode described.

Word count: 1k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

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You had fallen into that pattern again. That dreadful, hateful pattern. It comes and goes in waves; Numbness followed by dark sadness that weighed heavily in the middle of your chest. Suffocating. 

You couldn’t help it. You never could. The feeling would just wash over you all of a sudden. Hit you like a ton of bricks. And usually you felt like there was nothing you could do about it except let it play out its course. So, you spent much of your time alone. It didn’t help much. Being alone made you feel worse in many ways. You yearned for normality; Dick’s laughter and Damian’s small unamused grunts as he pretended to be interested in what was going on. You would have given anything to not feel this way again. But right now it was all too much. Even just moving felt like too much of an effort. So you remained numb up in your room, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

You were sure you had traced the patterns in the ceiling at least a hundred times in the last day or so. It was that or overthinking. You couldn’t stop the influx of thoughts. They would come all at once all angry and disappointed. And you would ponder on them for far too long before they vanished just as quickly as they arrived, leaving you once again alone.

Your family had noticed your withdrawal. They had seen you in this state before and it broke their hearts to see  you in it again, but they weren’t sure what to do. The Waynes aren’t exactly known for their emotional intelligence. They thought the next best thing to do was to give you some space, but to extend a hand if you asked for it. You never asked for it. You didn’t know how. And you didn’t want to be a burden to the rest of your family. So you remained silent.

One night, you had decided to venture out of your room. It was a quiet evening. Late autumn so the sun was already beginning to set despite the early hours of the afternoon. It had taken you a long while to decide that you wanted to move, but nevertheless you stood and moved towards your favourite spot; a place that you often found solace in. The armchair was large and plush and positioned by the window so that it caught the last slivers of golden light as they streamed through the window. You curled up on the plush leather, watching the trees shed their leaves and the sky turn a deep blue. It was a few hours later, when the stars had appeared in the sky, when the door cracked open.  The figure was silent, save for their bare feet padding against the wooden flooring. 

It was Jason who approached.  He had a blanket slung over his shoulder and two steaming mugs of hot cocoa in his hands. He paused, studding you for a moment as you stared numbly out the window. He had seen you here before. It brought him a sense of deja vu that he’d rather not feel again. Taking a step forward, he let out a gentle sigh. 

“Hey kiddo….” he started. You glanced up at him. Jason smiled sadly. It was a start. “Brought you your favourite. Thought you might be thirsty.”

He extended a mug towards you. It was topped with cream and marshmallows which were slightly melted. It was just how you liked it. Goddamnit. You took the mug from him and took a sip. The sweet liquid melted on your tongue. 

“Thank you…” You said quietly before the two of you fell into silence. Jason watched you as you went back to staring out of the window, trying to gather the words to say. It was clear that he was worried; they all were. He just didn’t know how to make you feel better. If he could even make you feel better at all. He hated seeing you like this; so lost in the darkness of your own mind. He hated it not only because you were hurting, but also because he knew that feeling all too well. He knew how much it hurt. How difficult it was to feel anything but numb and self hatred. 

“Bad week again?” he asked gently.

You just nodded. Jason always seemed to understand without pressing you. 

“Here…” he handed you the blanket, draping it over your shoulders.You hugged it tight around you, immediately overcome with the sense of familiar comfort. 

Jason didn’t say much more after that and you even less. But he took a seat on the armchair across from you before curling up with his book. It was a simple but effective gesture to show that he was there for you without overwhelming you. You glanced at him, taking a sip of your drink. And for the first time in what felt like forever you began to feel again.

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<- DAY NINETEEN⛧ DAY TWENTY ONE->

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TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

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[avatar-anna]

Aaaah i am so deep in my Harry feels and you write him so perfectly…

So i have a request !

Something i cannot get out of my mind are the lines from as it was “Answer the phone, "Harry, you're no good alone why are you sittin' at home on the floor?What kind of pills are you on?" … and maybe the reader just got home and she’s the one saying that to Harry? Idk …

Anyway i love how you write ❤️ stay golden !

Grief Fic, Part One

so, this turned into a really long fic that's full of angst (perhaps too much). part of me wanted to make it even longer, but i think i ended it at the right point where i could come back to it if people wanted me to.

Part Two

tw: mentions of death, depression, grieving

"Harry? You here?" you called, walking across the threshold of your friend's house. Looking down, you ruffled the hair of the little girl who came in with you. Her hands gripped the straps of her backpack as she skipped into the house, clearly not bothered by the band-aid on her knee or the cut beneath it.

She looked around and called out for her dad, who either didn't hear it or couldn't find it on him to respond. When the skip in her step faltered and a look of confusion and hurt began to creep onto her face, you helped her out of her backpack and said, "Why don't you go upstairs, kiddo? Change out of your uniform? We can decide what to do for dinner after. Your pick."

You hoped that the distraction of getting to pick what they ate for dinner tonight would be enough, but she still seemed rather subdued compared to how cheery she sounded as she talked about her day at school on the drive home. "Okay."

She scurried off to her room upstairs, leaving you alone in the big kitchen that hardly got used anymore. When the young girl was gone, you called out to Harry again, stepping further into the house. You eventually found him in his studio, but he wasn't working.

"Jesus, H. I can't leave you alone for five minutes," you muttered, picking the bottle of whiskey off the floor and screwing the cap back on before setting it on a high shelf where he wouldn't think to reach for it.

Harry himself was sitting on the carpeted floor of his studio, staring blankly at nothing in particular. This wouldn't be the first time you found him in a similar state, but each time you hoped it would be the last.

"Is Harper alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, she's upstairs," you said.

"Thank you for picking her up again today," he said, still not looking at you.

You sat down next to him, draping your arms over your knees as you crossed your legs together. "No problem. I knew you were supposed to be working today, which leads me to my next question. Why are you sitting in here alone? I thought today was a writing session?"

"Cancelled. Didn't feel up to it today."

Harry didn't feel up to much of anything these days. It was understandable, to an extent. You knew he was going through a lot, but it wasn't just him he had to look out for. Harper needed her dad, now more than ever.

"Was it...anything in particular?" you asked gently. Sometimes Harry got cagey when you asked him about his current situation. He would snap or get defensive or ignore you completely. You'd known him for so many years, but in the span of a few months, you had to relearn how to talk to him. "Yesterday you seemed excited to work."

Harry shrugged, which drew your attention to his narrow shoulders. He hasn't been eating, you thought. You quickly scanned his face, and looking past the obvious unkempt facial hair and dark circles, you noticed his features were more pronounced, eyes sunken in some. You thought he was doing better, you thought he was healing.

"Harry," you said when he didn't respond.

Ever so gently, you rested a hand on his arm. His skin was cold as ice, and pale. So unlike the warmth and sunny glow it used to carry. The person in front of you was a shell of the man he once was, and you didn't know how to bring him back.

"Do you know what kind of pills you're on? If they're not working, the doctor can prescribe something else," you said.

"It's not the pills," he murmured. "I just...I just don't know how to function without her."

So you're not taking them, you thought but didn't say. Instead, you gave Harry's hand a gentle squeeze. "I know."

"I don't want to function without her. I—I can't do anything else but exist, and even that's exhausting."

Harry's voice was heavy with emotion, his eyes downcast as he stared at the band around his finger.

You were aware of the dangerous waters he was wading into, and the pressure to keep him from drowning suddenly crushed your chest. You'd already said all the typical platitudes—it'll get better with time, she wouldn't want you to live like this, Harper needs you. Sometimes they were enough to get him out of the house or to sit down on the couch with Harper to watch a movie, but it would only last so long, and recently Harry's mood improvement would dwindle faster and faster. You did what you could to help by taking care of Harper and checking in on Harry everyday, but he was starting to scare you.

"Daddy?"

Your head whipped around to where Harper was standing by the door of the studio. At eight years old, she looked just like Harry with bright green eyes and dimpled cheeks and curly hair. But she looked like her mother too, and though it was nearly imperceptible, you saw the bob of Harry's Adam's apple when he looked at her.

"Hi sweetheart," he said, not standing up to go over to her.

Harper waited by the door, waiting for Harry to do more. To ask about her day or tell her about his or go over to her or something. But he didn't, like he was too exhausted to move.

"Can we—Can we go to the park? The sun is still out and I finished all my homework."

"Y/n can take you," Harry said.

"Or we can watch a movie? Or—"

"Harper, I think Dad is tired. Why don't we—"

"He's always tired!" Harper said suddenly. "He never wants to spend time with me or talk to me! Why are you acting like this!" She went over to Harry and began to shake his shoulders, her cheeks red and eyes imploring. "Wake up! Wake up!"

Harry didn't do anything at first, letting his daughter shake him and pound her fists against his chest. Your eyes welled with tears and your throat tightened as you watched, caught between pulling Harper off and letting her get her emotions out, half hoping it would stir something in her father. It didn't.

"I hate you! I want mom!" she finally said when Harry was still practically catatonic.

He said nothing, but you could see the tears in his eyes as she stormed off, flinching when he heard the door to her room slam two floors up. His shoulders shook of their own volition then, accompanied by tears and sobbing.

"She didn't mean it," you said, pulling him into your chest. Harry's grip was tight despite his lack of nourishment as he continued to cry, warm tears bleeding through your shirt. "She's dealing with this too."

"I don't know how to be what she needs," he sobbed. "I don't think I can."

Your heart broke for the two people you loved most in this world. You'd tried so hard to help Harry and Harper, to take care of her while he got back on his feet. But he hadn't, and now you felt like you were standing at a crossroads.

"I think it might be time to—" you stopped, getting choked up yourself, "to maybe go somewhere."

That got his attention enough to stop crying for a moment. "Go somewhere?"

"I've...looked into a couple places," you said gingerly. "Facilities. Where you can rest and get better and meet with grief counselors and groups. Get the help that you need, you know?"

When Harry's wife died, you obviously didn't expect him to bounce back right away, but you also didn't anticipate the state he was in now. Everyone grieved differently, you knew that, but his grief was all-consuming, slowly eating away at him and leaving him hollow. You did what you could to support him and Harper, but you had your own life, your own job, which was starting to become less and less understanding every time you left early to pick Harper up from school. You did it all happily and willingly because you loved both of them, but none of you could keep going like this.

"I'm not sick," he said. "I'm not an addict. I don't need to go to rehab."

"I love you, H, and I'm worried about you," you said. You put your hands on either side of his face so he had to look you directly in the eye. "Harper loves you, and she wants you to be her dad. You have so many people that love and care for you, Harry, and we all want you to be okay again."

"My wife died, Y/n. I'm never going to be okay again," he said, pulling away from you harshly, voice sharp. "How can you say that? You really think it's so easy? The mother of my child is gone, and she can never come back, and you what? You want me to just forget about her? Forget what we had? I bet you'd love that wouldn't you. That's probably why you've been so eager to 'help' Harper and me. Don't think for one second that you could ever replace her. So just go!"

It didn't matter that you knew this outburst was one of rage filled grief, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. You felt like you'd been slapped, like Harry had reached his hand into your chest and crushed your heart. That was never your intention. Harry was a friend, a dear one, but a friend just the same. And Harper was your goddaughter. You couldn't just sit by and let the two people you considered family fall apart.

But maybe you weren't who he needed.

"I know you think you'll never be okay again, but you will," you said quietly. "Because you love Harper, you will be. One day you'll stop resenting her for not being Sophia, and one day you'll stop resenting Sophia for leaving you. It'll always hurt, I know that, but one day it'll hurt a little less."

You stood up from the floor and smoothed your trousers, sniffling a little. Harry had gone back to staring blankly, but the tight clench of his jaw told you he was listening. "Bye, H."

You didn't leave right away. You made a phone call to his mom first, asking her to stay with Harry and Harper, not explaining why you couldn't be the one to check up on them anymore. Anne had asked you to keep an eye on the pair after she went back home after staying at Harry's place for a month. You'd already planned on doing so, but you agreed. Now the tough love needed to come from someone else. When Anne told you she was on her way, you went upstairs to Harper's room to check on her.

She was crying on her bed, her body curled into a ball around a stuffed animal. Sighing, you walked over to her and sat on the corner of her bed and soothed her back with your hand. "I know you didn't mean that, Harper Rose."

"Why is he acting like that?" she cried, not looking up at you. "Why won't he play with me anymore? Or take me to school?"

"He..." You didn't even know what to say to make this better. "Your dad is...sick."

"Like my mom was?" Harper asked. She sat up, her little face red from crying.

"Not—Not quite," you said, trying not to get choked up. Sophia had been a dear friend to you too. "His heart hurts so much that he can't, or doesn't know how to...function properly. Does that make sense?"

Harper nodded as she wiped a tear from her eye. "He's heartbroken."

"I think so."

She didn't say anything for a minute, as if she was processing that information about Harry. Then, "Does that mean I love my mom less if I'm not heartbroken like that?"

Her words made you pinch your arm to hold back your tears. It wasn't fair to Harper that she had to deal with all of this at a young age; she didn't deserve to have these thoughts or ask these questions, and selfishly, a part of you deep down felt you didn't deserve to answer them.

"No, of course not, kiddo. Your dad just—you and your dad loved her differently. And I think part of him is sad that you lost your mom and not just that he lost his wife."

"I don't understand," she said, her voice trembling. "When will he be normal again?"

"Do you think you'll feel normal again?" you asked her gently. Harper shrugged, more tears silently leaking out of the corners of her eyes. "People's hearts and minds react differently when someone dies. And right now, your dad's mind is telling him not to get out of bed or take care of himself or take care of you. It doesn't make sense to you or me, but it makes sense to him."

"Oh." Harper looked contemplative again, her eyes trained on the yellow patterned bedspread beneath her. Everything in her room was some shade of yellow—walls, curtains, lampshades, the sun behind the bedframe that Sophia painted—everything was made to feel warm and inviting. "What do we do now? How do we help him?"

"Well, what do you do when you're sick?"

"Go to a doctor."

"That's right," you said. "He's gonna go to the doctor, and the doctor will tell us what we should do. And in the meantime, you just keep loving your dad, okay? You're allowed to be angry and frustrated and sad, but never stop loving him. It might not look like it, but knowing you love him helps."

"Okay," Harper said.

"I called your grandma. She's gonna come stay with you for a little while while your dad gets better. She'll take you to school and pick you up and make you all sorts of treats with you."

"Why can't you take me to school?" she asked.

"I have to work," you explained. "But, if you need anything, you know my number. Just call me and I'll be there, okay? But you and Grandma will have fun, you always do."

You stayed in Harper's room until she fell asleep, smoothing her hair with your hand once more before standing up from the bed. You planned to stay until Anne arrived, but you figured you could tidy up and get the guest bedroom ready in the meantime. By the time she walked through the door, the guest room had been made up and the kitchen was squeaky clean. Harry never came out of his studio, or he went up to his room without you noticing but you were fine with that. You wouldn't have known what to say to him anyway.

You gave Anne the names of doctors and grief groups for Harry, and the name of a good child psychiatrist for Harper. You'd been meaning to set up a meeting for her, but you hadn't had the time, and it also wasn't really your place and you didn't want to overstep. Anne gave you a long hug before you left, thanking you for taking care of her family. Having someone hug you for once instead of the other way around was overwhelming, and you almost started crying right there in her arms.

But you held yourself together for a few more minutes as you pulled away. You promised to check in and help wherever and whenever you could, then you left, slightly relieved that Harry and Harper's well-being wasn't solely on your shoulders anymore and partly sad that you weren't able to help them more.

The first few weeks, you didn't come around the house as much, giving Harry his space. You met Harper at the park when your work schedule allowed it and had her over to your place for sleepovers when she asked.

Anne kept you in the loop, even when there wasn't much to report—Harper met regularly with a counselor and Harry didn't, Harper didn't wake up crying in the middle of the night as much and Harry still wasn't going back to work. Part of you felt like Harry needed more tough love than coddling at this point. You knew he wouldn't actually go to therapy unless you dragged him by the ear or eat something if you didn't sit with him until he was done. But it wasn't your place to dictate how he was helped, so you kept your mouth shut whenever Anne said he wasn't getting any better.

However, that all changed when Harry collapsed. He was so weak from not eating, he physically couldn't hold himself up. Or so Anne claimed. You didn't want to, but part of you thought there might have been some intention behind Harry's actions, or lack thereof. That was when you knew things had to change. If this were a movie, then that moment was the point of no return, and you weren't going to let Harry destroy himself anymore.

"If you get him in a car, I'll take care of the rest," you said to Anne the day after. She'd been apprehensive, but you insisted that this was the right choice. "He can't just sit alone on the floor of his studio all day. Either we do this now or his grief wins."

So it was settled. You didn't know how she did it, but Anne somehow got Harry up and in the passenger seat of your car. He clearly was not pleased by the whole thing, but with his lack of eating, he was no match for you or his mother.

"Where are we going?" he asked, arms folded angrily.

"My place."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to let Harper witness your path of self-destruction. You wanna die? You don't want to take care of yourself? Then you can do it at my place instead of in front of your daughter."

It was harsh, but Harry hadn't been particularly amicable these last few days. According to Anne, instead of catatonic, he was rude, his words sharp as a knife and just as cutting. His mother didn't deserve to deal with that, and neither did Harper, but you could handle him. Whether he liked it or not.

"Fuck you," he muttered.

"Fuck you," you replied simply.

Harry didn't say anything else the rest of the ride to your house, which was completely fine by you. You had a plan in place for Harry's stay, but you went over it again and again in your head, hoping it would work. You had Harry's meds, which he had not been taking, you picked out a grief group for him to attend, or one-on-one counseling if he didn't want to go to group therapy, you worked out a schedule that made sure Harry was constantly doing something rather than withering away on your couch. But first...

"You need a shower. I'm not living with you while you smell like that. And brush your teeth too."

"I thought you didn't care what I did," he said, begrudgingly following you into your house. It was much smaller than his, but that was for the better. It would be easier to keep an eye on him in close quarters.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. We all care about what happens to you," you said, leading him down the hall to your small guest room and bathroom were.

You gestured toward the bathroom when he set his small duffle bag on the bed, but he stayed where he was. "No."

"No?"

"You and my mum can drag me around and make me sleep in a different bed, but you can't force me to take medication, you can't force me to go to therapy, you can't force me to live," Harry spat. You took it on the chin, eyeing the way it seemed exhausting for him to just raise his voice at you. "I'm not a child, and I'm not one of your patients, so leave me the fuck alone."

"Lord, give me strength," you muttered to yourself before storming over to him.

You grabbed Harry by the collar of his sweatshirt and pulled him into the bathroom, where you promptly began to pull his layers off one by one.

"What the fuck?" Harry said, too surprised to fend you off, and too weak as well. "Get off of me!"

"You are a stubborn asshole," you spat, letting all the anger and frustration from the last few weeks seep into your voice. Once Harry was down to his underwear and socks, you quickly turned the shower on and pushed him in, holding your forearm against his chest as water sprayed both of you. "And selfish. You are a parent, Harry, you can't afford to fall apart, especially not in front of Harper. You can't do this to her. I won't let you."

Harry struggled against you, but not as much. He looked furious for having brought up Harper, though. But you kept going, needing to say everything that had been rattling around in your brain since he snapped at you.

"Sophia is gone, H," you said, voice gentle but firm.

"Shut up—"

"And it hurts. I can't imagine how much it hurts to lose your wife, but I—I know how it feels to lose a parent." Your voice began to waver, but you willed yourself to calm down. You didn't talk about it much, but you could relate to the situation at hand better than most. It was part of the reason why you helped Harry and Harper out so much. "Harper is strong and brave and charismatic. She's all the good things Soph was. Stop punishing her for it and celebrate it. She needs you, H. If you can't find it in yourself to get better for you, do it for your daughter. Don't do this to her."

Harry was crying by then, and you were too. Water sprayed the both of you, but he wasn't straining against you anymore. When it felt like he was starting to slide against the tiles to sit down, you didn't let him. "Don't do that," you said, using all your strength to hold him up. "Don't let it consume you. Lean on me if you have to, but don't—don't sit down."

To your surprise, he didn't. Harry let you give him a scrub down, starting with his hair and then sponging his body with soap. You left his briefs on for his sake. As a nurse, you were used to seeing every part of the body, but Harry was your friend, not a patient. When you were done, you left him to dry off with a towel and dress with the instruction to be in the kitchen for dinner in twenty minutes. You didn't have to say what you would do if he didn't come. Harry got a dose of how forceful you could be very quickly.

So he came out of his room, and the two of you ate in complete silence. You didn't mind the quiet and were content to let Harry figure out whatever was going on in his head. You did keep an eye on him, though, making sure he didn't push his food around and actually ate it. He did, thankfully; you really didn't want to have to spoon-feed him too.

"Tomorrow I set up a group therapy session in town. It's super confidential, so you don't have to worry about that, but—"

"No."

"No? Really? We're doing this again?" you asked, only half joking.

"I don't want to go to group therapy," he said, and you could practically taste his displeasure for it across the table.

"Well, I thought you might say that, so I also scheduled one-on-one counseling, though I thought you might prefer the group. Less opportunities to talk when there are multiple people in one session." You picked up and quickly washed your plate before setting it down on the drying rack. "Tomorrow's session is at ten. Let me know what you want to do before then, but you're going to one of them. Oh, and you're responsible for cleaning up after yourself. Night."

You left Harry to his own devices after that, deciding to get ready for bed. It was going to be a long few weeks, or however long to get your friend back up on his feet, and you were going to need all the peace of mind you could get.

Three weeks later, Harry was still irritable. You knew he resented you for making him do, well, anything, but he still did them. He went to his group therapy sessions and cleaned up after himself in the kitchen. He just didn't like talking to you. Or acknowledging you. Or looking at you. You were pretty sure all the anger he had about Sophia dying and having to take care of Harper alone was now directed at you. You didn't necessarily mind being his outlet if it meant he was getting out of the house, but it did get exhausting at times. And it made for a very awkward car ride.

"I...can't pick you up from group today," you said as you neared the building where Harry's group sessions were.

"What the hell am I supposed to do then?" he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest like a child.

You gripped the steering wheel tighter so as not to whack him repeatedly on the arm. "Are you really that much of a pampered celebrity that you can't use public transportation? Or your own two feet?"

"Well why the fuck are you signing me up for this shit if you can't take me. I don't even want to go to these stupid meetings."

In a split second, you pulled over and put the car in park. "Get out."

"What?"

"You heard me," you said, the frustration you'd been pushing down the last three weeks finally bubbling to the surface. You'd been patient, you'd done what you thought was right for Harry and his family, but you couldn't be his punching bag anymore. "I've been taking you to these meetings because I want to help you, because I want to help Harper, but you have...kicked and screamed like a child every step of the way, and I—I want you to be better. I want you to be able to handle your emotions in a healthy way, but I—" I give up, you wanted to say, but even you weren't that mean in the midst of your anger. "You're an adult, Harry. I can't force you to go to therapy, so don't. Get out. Do whatever the hell you want."

Harry looked at you for a moment, surprised by your outburst. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, his eyes roving around your face. Searching for what, you weren't sure. Maybe he didn't think you would ever actually kick him out. You gave him as good as he got when he snapped at you, but you never expressly kicked him out. You were pretty sure he was deciding if you were serious or not.

"Out!" you said when he still hadn't opened the door. Now you were going to be late to work.

"Fuck! Fine," he said, then he was opening the door and getting out of the car. It shut with a definitive slam, but you didn't wait around to see Harry glare at you as you rushed back onto the street.

Work sucked, which made your mood that much worse. You normally liked your job at the hospital. It was busy and made you feel like a zombie at the end of most shifts, but the work was rewarding, and you were good at it too. You ran the Labor and Delivery room like a tight ship, everything and everyone had a place. But tonight you were slammed, one issue after another for you to solve. Normally you could handle the stress, but your nerves had been frayed for weeks, and every minor inconvenience didn't feel so minor right now.

Nothing was going your way, patients' families were being bigger assholes than usual, and the charting system was being glitchy. Not to mention you were pulling a double shift, so it was safe to say you were tired out of your mind, irritated, and not as chipper as you normally were amongst the normal amount of stress.

"Y/n, have you taken your lunch yet?"

You looked up from the computer at the nurses' station where one of your coworkers was standing on the other side. "Look at this place, Miranda. When would I have the time?"

The Labor and Delivery wing of the hospital was full of patients, excited family members in the waiting room, OB interns, and nurses trying to maintain order. You could always expect a good number of people in this wing of the hospital, but today was more crowded than usual. In-laws that wanted to be in the delivery room were driving you crazy in a way that they normally didn't, and a surgical intern tried to talk down to you, which tried your practically non-existent patience. It was safe to say that your pink scrubs were very misleading about your disposition today.

Miranda narrowed her eyes at you. "It's thirty minutes."

"I can't. I have to get these charts updated because these idiots we call interns don't know how to—"

"Y/n?"

"God, tell me this is not happening," you muttered before looking up from the computer again. Harry was standing at the nurses' station next to Miranda, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "I can't do this with you right now."

"I know. I just wanted to—"

"I can take your bitching at home, but not here," you said, going back to your computer. Everything you'd felt this morning was still simmering in you, and you didn't want to make a scene at work.

"I just came to apologize," he said, his voice lacking the harsh edge it'd had since he'd been staying with you.

You shook your head and picked up a chart as you began to walk away. "Honestly? I don't have time for that, either, H."

Perhaps you shouldn't have been so flippant, but you were at work, for one. You got into a certain headspace to keep everything and everyone in order, and you couldn't compromise that on a hectic day like this, even if Harry had come to say he was sorry.

"But, Y/n, you still have to take your lunch!" Miranda said.

Stopping in your tracks, you turned back around. Your arms were crossed as you gave Miranda a look, but she just stared right back. She was always the one who looked after you while you looked after everyone else. Sighing, you walked back over to the nurses' station to hand over the chart on your hands. "Ten minutes."

"The law says thirty."

"Fifteen," you amended, then left before Miranda could argue with you. You heard footsteps behind you, and while you knew they were Harry's, you didn't do anything to stop him from following.

The break room was small, just big enough to hold a refrigerator, some cupboards, and a table with a few chairs. You didn't spend much time here, but it did see a lot of foot traffic despite its size.

Sitting down at the table, you rested your head in your hands, your eyes closing for a few seconds now that you let yourself have this short break. Your feet hurt and your head pounded, but you managed to stand up anyway and make yourself a cup of coffee.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, though you weren't really sure you cared. Not right now anyway.

"I wanted to apologize," he said right away, like he was afraid you weren't going to let him speak.

You laughed a little. "Oh? What for?"

You knew you were being difficult, but you couldn't help it. The way Harry treated you had all come to a head this morning, and the shit day at work didn't help your mood, either. Staring at him over the rim of your coffee mug, your heart softened the tiniest bit. He looked like a scolded puppy with his head tilted down and his hands behind his back. It was hard for you to balance the anger you felt for the way he treated you and acknowledge the fact that it was his grief that was making him act this way. There's no wrong way to grieve. It was something you knew and understood, but Harry's grief process didn't make your life any easier.

"I've been...horrible to you," he said, though he still wouldn't look at you. "I—I know you've been trying to help Harper and me, and all I've done was take everything I've felt out on you."

It was hard to find the right words to say. You didn't want to just excuse his behavior by saying he was grieving, but you knew he would never treat you the way he had been otherwise. But that didn't make it hurt any less.

"What made you come to this conclusion?" you decided to ask, curious to know the answer.

Harry smiled sheepishly and chuckled to himself in a way that was embarrassed more than amused. "Therapy. I went after you kicked me out this morning. Thanks for that, by the way."

You couldn't help but grin a little, at the very least because you hadn't seen Harry smile in months. "You're welcome."

"I'm really, really sorry, Y/n," he said once the air in the room sobered again. "I don't know if I could ever say it enough, or express how thankful I am to you for being there for Harper when I couldn't. I'm sorry for all the horrible things I've said and the way I've acted. I, um, I don't magically feel better, but for the first time since Soph died, I want to be."

You believed him when he said that. There was an air about Harry that seemed different than the last few months. And the fact that he was apologizing at all and seemed to have a small grasp of his feelings said a lot. And you wanted to believe him too, for the sake of his own health and happiness as well as Harper's.

"I know it was your grief that made you...act a certain way, but thank you for apologizing," you said.

"Things won't immediately go back to the way they were, I know that, but," Harry said, wiping the corner of his eye. "I wanted to take Harper out to dinner tomorrow night, and I'm hoping you'll join us."

"Not tonight?"

"No. I think I just want to go home and be with my daughter tonight," he said, sounding a little nervous and a little hopeful. "And I'm sure you're sick of me, so I thought I'd let you have a night to yourself."

You took a moment to look at your friend, really look at him. Harry's frame was still narrow, he was paler than usual, and the angles were still a little too sharp and pronounced, but his hair was neat and his eyes were clear, and he just looked different overall.

Standing up, you walked to where Harry was still standing by the entrance to the break room and threw your arms around him. A wave of emotion hit you the second his arms wrapped around you, and you couldn't help the sob that escaped your lips as you held him tight. He felt so frail, like he could blow away with the next breeze. It pained you to feel how everything affected him physically.

"You scared me," you said. Perhaps it was too soon to admit, but you needed to say what had been weighing on your heart since he collapsed. "You pissed me of and drove me insane, but above everything, I was terrified."

Terrified of losing him, terrified of not doing what was right by him or Harper, terrified that he'd never be the same. The fear of losing Harry to his grief kept you up most nights. More than the poisonous words or cold shoulders or childish behavior, you'd been so scared of every worst case scenario it nearly made you sick.

"I'm sorry I've put you through so much. You lost her too."

That made you squeeze Harry even harder. You'd known Sophia first and had been the one to introduce her to Harry. The three of you had been friends for a long time before Harry and Soph had even started dating, and you stayed friends long after. She wasn't your sister, but in a lot of ways she was family, and so were Harry and Harper.

Eventually you pulled away, wiping your eyes and stepping back from his embrace. You felt a little awkward, but lighter too, and hopeful for the future.

"So you'll come? To dinner?" Harry asked, his own eyes lined with tears.

Harry wasn't magically healed. He still had a long road ahead of him to be healthy again, not to mention mending his relationship with Harper. But you decided to believe that he was on the mend, that he was open to getting proper help and taking the right steps to manage his depression.

"It would be my pleasure."

[forever-rogue]

Hi, I'm too anxious to tell you this off-anon, but the first contact I had with Joel x reader fics was through yours and I just wanted to tell you they're amazing, I can't get enough! So many feelings!!

So I also wanted to ask, if by any chance you're still accepting requests, a Joel x reader fic where reader is incredibly insecure about herself and often questions her worth and perhaps even starts spiralling a bit, and Joel just ends up giving her a "shut up" kiss at some point 🥰🥰 all the fluff and angst, please!

Thank you for boosting me down this rabbit hole, I'm enjoying the ride :D

AN | We always hear about Joel thinking he’s not good enough for Reader, but what if it was the other way around? 🥺 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hated watching how women threw themselves all over Joel. All over your boyfriend. It wasn’t like they didn’t know you were together, they just flat out chose to ignore it. Despite his reassurances that it didn’t mean anything and he paid them no attention, it still managed to get under your skin and had you seeing red. Part of you wished he’d just tell them to leave him alone but, honestly, he probably didn’t even know what was going on. Or if he did, he was good at faking it.

“It’d probably be easier to just go over and tell them off,” Ellie smirked as she appeared at your side, silent and stealthy as ever. Damn her. You waved off her concern and turned back to the beer you were drinking, “if looks could kill, they’d all be dead like ten times over.”

“I’m not…no,” you huffed, face turning warm when you realized you’d been caught, “I just happened to be glaring in that direction.”

“Right,” she didn’t believe you for a second, she knew you better than that. She grabbed your beer and took a sip since you were so distracted but immediately coughed at the bitter taste, “disgusting! How can you even drink this?!”

“That’s what you get for underage drinking,” you teased and she rolled her eyes dramatically, “it’s an acquired taste, Ellie Bean.”

“Whatever you say,” she clearly didn’t believe you as she got onto the stool beside you.

“Listen,” you turned to her and tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible, “I’m, ugh, not feeling great so I’m going to head home. Will you let Joel know if he asks?”

“If?” like he couldn’t have a small heart attack when he saw that you were missing.

“When he asks,” you ruffled her hair affectionately, “I’ll see you guys at home, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, although there was a deep frown on her face. She knew you well enough to know that something was up, “you’re alright?”

“I’m alright,” it wasn’t an outright lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either, “promise, kiddo.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time Joel and Ellie came home, not too much later, you were already in bed. You weren't sleeping, but pretended to be when Joel came into the bedroom. 

"Sweetheart?" His voice was soft, a tone that he only adopted for you or Ellie, as he came into the room and took in your bundled form, "you awake?"

You thought about rolling over and saying something but didn't find it within yourself to do so. You felt bad; he hadn't done anything wrong but you were.. having a moment. 

Instead you remained silent while you listened to him undress and get into pajamas before sliding into bed with you. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling into his chest. You felt him relax as he pressed a few kisses to your shoulder; this man really was a sucker for you.

You had to stop yourself from audibly sighing at the way it felt to be in his arms. It might just have been your favorite place in the world. 

Now you just had to fight off the odd feeling that was settling into your chest.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 Joel had noticed that something was off right away. He was good at reading you, which was both a blessing and a curse. After that night, you went on a downward spiral of coming to the conclusion that you weren’t enough for Joel. Not good enough, not anything enough.

You slowly began to pull away from Joel - and Ellie - bit by bit. At first he chalked up to you not feeling well, or just having a moment, but the longer it became and the further you pushed him away, the more concerned he became. He knew that something was wrong, he just needed to find out what. He wanted, desperately, to make it better but you wouldn’t even talk to him enough so he could begin to figure it out. 

But that was the thing about Joel - he was stubborn and persistent. He didn’t give up on the things he loved. 

He’d never give up on you. He’d wait until the end of time if you needed him too. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I think we should break up," you looked at him with a serious expression but that didn't stop him from almost laughing. You glowered at him and his expression dropped when he realized that you hadn't been joking. You were being…serious.

"Wait, what?" he looked at you dumbfoundedly, like he expected you to start laughing or something, "honey."

"I'm sorry," you shifted your gaze to the floor and focused it on your feet, "but I think this is best for everyone."

"You want to break up?" He repeated, trying to put a finger under your chin in order to get you to look at him. You recoiled from his touch and that was enough to break his heart, "what do you mean? Why are you doing this?"

"Joel," your voice cracked on his name and you tried to look away. At the very least, you didn't want him to see you cry, "I can't…this is just best for everyone."

"No," he shook his head, "I don't think you believe that for a moment. And you're wrong, I know you know that."

"I don't want to be you," you lied, the sound of your harsh words making your own heart break a little. The look on his face did little to help, "I don't want you."

He remained for a few long, tense moments before he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, "okay."

"Joel…"

"Listen, I love you and if not being together is what you want, I'll respect that," your heart dropped into your stomach; you hadn't really expected him to let you go that easily. You'd hoped for more of a fight…maybe you really were making the right decision after all, "whatever you need to do is fine."

"O-okay," you nodded in agreement, "I'll just get my stuff and go. I-I'm gonna stay with Tommy and Maria for a bit."

"Sure," alright, it was almost infuriating to have him so relaxed, "do you need a hand packing?"

Bastard.

"No," you shook your head, "its alright."

"I guess I'll see you around," you didn't even bother to say anything as you ran up the stairs to pack your little bit of stuff. Joel remained still as he watched you go, shaking his head to himself.

"You're really just going to let her go?" Ellie slicked into the room with a worried expression on her face. Joel scoffed and shook his head, "oh. Do you have a plan?"

"Of course I do," he playfully tapped the side of her cheek, "the women in my life will be the death of me. I'm the one that suggested to Maria to ask her to stay if she said anything about leaving."

"She's been acting off," Ellie frowned as she looked towards the stairs, "ever since that night at the bar."

"I know," he sighed softly, "I have a feeling I know what it is, but I want her to come to her own conclusion."

"Do you think she will?" 

"I think so," he nodded, "and if not, I'll just have to give her a little hand."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You'd been out of the home you'd once shared with Joel and Ellie for about two weeks now. The worst two weeks ever. You missed the two of them like crazy and it seemed like they popped up anywhere you were. Whether it was on purpose or coincidence, it made your heart earn and ache for them.

But you had made your decision and maybe one day you'd move on. You hoped that Joel would find somehow that was actually worthy of him. Even if it killed you inside. 

Joel had hoped that you would have come around by now, but he was keeping an eye on things and maybe planning a little something to speed things up. 

Before he could act on any of his whims and fancies, fate seemed to step in. 

It was movie night within Jackson and you went to offer your mind some distraction. You were hanging with Maria and, despite your best efforts, you found your eye wandering around to look for Ellie or Joel. Old habits die hard.

You found Ellie with a couple of her friends, including the girl she'd confessed was her current crush, and that brought a smile to your face. When you spied Joel, however, your mood soured. 

He was surrounded by a group of women and they were all clearly fawning over him. Gross. You were half invested in your conversation with Maria and a friend of hers but found your eye wandering over to him repeatedly. He became increasingly uncomfortable looking with each passing moment, but when one of the women started putting her hands on him, you couldn't take it anymore. 

You turned around and stomped away from Maria and over to Joel. He wasn't aware of the fact that you were coming over until you were right in front of him and smiling at him sweetly. The women around him parted like the sea as they flared daggers at you. 

"Honey," you leaned up and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. He looked shocked for just a moment before sliding into his role so effortlessly, "its getting late, are you almost ready to go?"

"Y-yeah - yes," he nodded before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him, "I'm ready when you are, darlin'."

"Y'all don't mind if I steal him, right?" You offered up the sweetest, most syrupy smile you could as you glanced around the flock of women that had been surrounding him. They made small sounds but none of them argued with you. They knew better than to cross you.

And it felt so natural to take his hand and lace your fingers through his. Joel naturally took charge as he started to lead you out of the packed building and into the cool autumn air. You walked down in the street in a tense silence before he came to a stop and cleared his throat. 

You stopped too and turned around to face him, wishing you didn't have to have the conversation you knew was coming up.

"So," he said slowly as you exhaled, "that happened. Why?"

"There's nothing much to it," you tried to wave him off but you knew he knew you were lying, "they were surrounding you like a pack of hyenas and you looked uncomfortable. I know that look on your face, Joel. I just…figured I'd spare you."

"Thank you," he whispered softly, "that was it, huh."

"What else do you want me to say?" You threw your hands up in defeat, ready to turn around and run home, "you would have done the same for me."

"Without hesitation," he agreed, "but you…I know better than you think. Tell me that's all and I'll walk away and leave you alone."

But…you couldn't bring yourself to deny him. Opening and closing your mouth a few times, you found it almost impossible to find the right words, "I dunno, Joel. What do you want me to say?"

"The truth," he whispered softly, "I'd like at least that much."

"I was jealous!" You almost shouted at him as you threw up your hands, "I was jealous of those women practically eating you alive with how desperate they were for you!"

"Okay," was all he said but there was a beaming grin growing across his face.

"I hate that they think they can have you," yup. Everything was suddenly bubbling up at once and you didn't care enough to stop it anymore, "you were mine! They don't deserve you, you can do so much better. I-I don't deserve you either. I fucked it all up. And I'm sorry for what I did and said to you but I'm not sorry for what I did back there."

"Sweetheart-"

"I'm sorry for hurting you," big, fat tears had rolled down your cheeks, "but I did what I thought was right. I don't deserve…I'm just me."

"Oh sweet girl," he reached for both of your hands and pulled you closer into his warm frame, "that's what had been about, huh? Silly girl."

"Joel-"

"How could you not think you deserve me?" He asked and you shrugged, sniffling slightly as he wiped away your tears, "you're the only one that will ever get me. If anything, I don't deserve you. Baby, you're it for me. You always have been and always will be."

"Why?" You had a pretty pout on your lips that he was tempted to kiss away, "why me? I'm so plain compared to those women that always throw themselves at you. They're so pretty and I'm not. I can't cook, I'm not handy, and I feel like a liability more than anything! I thought I was doing you a favor."

"Well," he shook his head fondly, "you're wrong on every account. You are the most beautiful, wonderful, and amazing women I have ever met. I don't need anything but you. I love you and only you. And it will always be you."

"Joel," his name sounded like a prayer of relief falling from your lips, "I…are you sure?"

"I've always been sure," he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, "and I still am. I know what I want you - you to come back home and to have you back in our bed every night, to have our family whole again. But it is up to you."

"Are you really sure? It's not just the moment?"

"Baby-"

"Because what if you-"

And then he took your face in his hands and gently cradled it as he held your gaze. A few moments passed before he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. It was soft and barely there but it felt so utterly perfect. When he pulled back, you looked up at him with big, wide eyes. 

“Oh,” you managed to choke out as you look at him, “you’re serious then.”

“Of course,” he said in a no duh voice as he chuckled fondly, “but like I said - whatever you want to do is up to you.”

“I want to come home,” there was no hesitation to your answer and that made his heart constrict with happiness, “and be with you and have our family back together.”

“Yeah?” he brushed your hair out of your face before kissing your forehead. 

 “Yes,” this time you took his face in your hands and kissed him slowly, “I want you. Only and always you.”

Before either of you could say anything else you heard a cheer from down the street - Ellie. She waved at the two of you, a big grin on her face, “about time! Welcome home!”

“What the kid said,” the two of you shared a small laugh, “welcome home, sweetheart.”

[pinqueen30]

Part 3

*meanwhile, somewhere at Dev*

Peri: Listen, maybe I can help?

Dev: No.

Peri: Why?

Dev: Because I can handle it myself. It's just homework

Peri: You look at one page for 20 minutes

Dev: Leave me alone

Peri: To be more precise, 23 minutes and 43 seconds

Dev: That's enough, I can handle it myself, I'm not stupid

Peri: I didn't say that. I'm saying you need help

Dev: No.

Peri: *sighed* We are walking in a vicious circle *turned around, saw someone coming into the room* Kiddo

Dev: I asked you not to distract me

Peri: Why do you have a doll version of Hazel in your room?

Dev: What? *turned around, looked where Peri pointed* It's not mine. Did you do that?

Peri: No, I wouldn't have asked you then

Dev: *came up, picked up the doll, turned it over* (in his mind) "It's just like a real one, and pretty cute... Wait, stop" *looked at Peri* How did she end up here?

Peri: *shrugged his shoulders*

Plush Hazel: You have such beautiful hands!

*Both of them turned their heads sharply towards the doll*

Peri: What? *stifled a chuckle*

Dev: Eh?

PH: And the eyes, oh, I just love your eyes! Especially when you're not wearing glasses or lenses. And when you don't gel your hair. I like your curls so much, they look like a cloud. You're actually very handsome. And you are so sweet, kind and funny! And you're also smart, and the way you get carried away and immerse yourself in different things as much as possible

Dev: Wh-what? *red*

Peri: So, of course, it's great that you decided to figure everything out, but still take it easy mini version of Hazel, he's going to suffocate now

PH: In fact, I like almost everything about you! I've been wanting to say it for a long time, but I was afraid it would ruin everything. I love y-

Hazel: *run into the room, gasping, all red* WAIT, NO! *Takes the doll away from the Dev, shuts her mouth* COSMO, WANDA, DEACTIVATE THE WISH, NOW!

*The doll disappears*

Hazel: How much did she say, Dev?

Dev: *very red, inarticulate sounds*

Hazel: Dev?

Peri: Kid, you have to breathe, otherwise you're going to die

Hazel: *turned to Peri* How much did she say?

Peri: Well, you interrupted her at the moment when she confessed to D-

Hazel: Understand *blushed very much*

*standing, silent*

Peri: You know, I'm probably not going to bother you, I'm going to talk to my parents... *flying away*

Hazel: *sighed* Dev, I... God, please forgive me for what happened, I thought everything would be different. Well, I mean, I didn't think *starts explaining and talking a lot*

*Dev doesn't hear her*

Dev: (in his mind) "SHELOVESMESHELOVESMESHELOVESME. So, Dev, calmly, you need to think rationally, don't panic. Calmly. Nothing serious happened, it's just Hazel, who we've liked for a very long time, confesses her love to you. She confesses her love to me. Hazel. Hazel loves me. Hazel loves me. Oh my God"

Hazel: And I think I like you, is it mutual?

Dev: (in his mind) "I have to answer something. Something cool and normal"

Hazel: Dev?

Dev: (in his mind) "Devin, you can't just stand there and say nothing. Answer anything!"

Hazel: Is everything okay? I understand this is unexpected-

Dev: Cool, thanks

Hazel: Huh?

Dev: (in his mind) "NOT THAT"

Peri: Dev... *handface*

Dev: What did I just say out loud? *blushed even more* No, that's not what I meant! I didn't want to say it! Forget what I said! Peri, erase the last 30 seconds, I should have said something cool and normal!

Peri: Nope

Dev: What does "nope" mean?! Peri, this moment cannot go down in history like this! It should be anything but not this! You don't tell the girl you like, "cool, thanks"

Hazel: Do you like me?

Dev: Of course, I do! How can I not like you? you're sweet, kind, funny, cheerful, you always forgive me, even though I'm acting like a jerk. I'm acting like this even now! It should have been different...*covered his face with his hand*

Hazel: Hey, it's okay, really! *took his other hand* Moreover, I embarras myself with this doll. I should have told you everything right away

Dev: You didn't embarrass yourself, everything is good! Really!

Hazel: Oh, thanks *chuckle* And besides, it all turned out quite original, don't you think? *smiled*

Dev: *looked at their hands, smiled back, nodded*

*Cosmo, Wanda and Peri look at them with smiles on their faces*

Cosmo: Ohhh, that's so sweet, first love

Wanda: I remember how you and I confessed to each other, it was like yesterday

Peri: Wait, no, let's have you with declarations of love a little later. And let's leave them alone, because it seems to me that we are clearly superfluous here

Wanda: You're right, they still have a lot to discuss

*Leave them alone*

[mi-spark]

3, 8, 10 for pmd ask game :3

HI RUPI!!! :D YAAaay

3. fave partner character? RAAAHH IT'S A TOUGH CHOICE i truly love them all ;v; but if we're going off solely the game's characterization of them instead of my own interpretations, it's gotta be psmd partner!!! just the fact that they're a kiddo already makes me soft, but also the way they're so silly goofy and passionate and ND-coded makes me go feral noises bitebitebite scampering off the walls CRAZY!!! and don't even get me STARTED on their backstory at the end of the game... OAUUGHRRRRRGGHHGGHHHHHHH blows up

8. if you're an artist, how do you draw grovyle? same for dusknoir too. and why? since i haven't shared very many of my drawings of those characters here yet, i will sketch something right meow ^_^

ok i kinda cheated and grabbed a grovyle from my sketchbook but I'M DONE

oh i have to say Why i draw them this way... idk LOL i just draw what looks good to me. though i'd like to note that these drawings aren't to scale, dusknoir would be way bigger if it were up to me, and it Was up to me BUT I STOOPY <3 anyway i do need to draw future trio more, i’d like to refine how i draw them and u can only do that by doodling them endlessly

10. opinion on nuzleaf's character? also were you surprised by that twist? the moment i found out nuzleaf was a father figure i had high hopes because i'm fucking insane about father figures in media, BUT after playing Super i ended up not caring much about him... AT FIRST. NOWADAYS he and partner are my reasons why i would play through that game again !!!! ***also if there is anyone who hasn't played Super yet and wants to stay spoiler-free SKIP THIS NEXT PART

sadly i was spoiled about nuzleaf before playing the game, but seeing his actions leading up to the reveal (my personal favorite being his frequent "outings" and i have a comic idea related to that) was fun. i need to stop yapping soon BUT i also enjoy how his character never feels like it's fully dishonest. even while under yveltal's influence, he takes you in and puts a roof over your head, yes to keep an eye on you bc you’re a threat to his plans, but also bc he still has a good heart deep down. but he also undeniably has darkness within him– it was just amplified by yveltal. his efforts to redeem himself to hero and maintain a relationship with them at the end of the game make his expressions of affection in the main story feel like they were real all along rather than just a facade 🥺

RUPI THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASK seeing it in my inbox helped me get out of bed!!!! sorry these got kinda long tho i swear i’m normal

[augustjustice]

you wanna feel how it feels? (let's exchange the experience), 1/?

AO3 Link

Summary: After the Spring Break from hell, Eddie and Steve become fast friends, with a possible hint towards something more…except they're never quite sure what the other one is actually thinking. But maybe, just maybe, walking a mile in each other's shoes can lend them some much needed insight.

Notes: The long awaited first chapter of bodyswap fic is finally, finally here! This chapter is primarily just set up for the shenanigans yet to come.

I went ahead and added a taglist below for some of the folks who have been following along with the progress of this one. Apologies if I missed anyone, and if you'd like to be added to or removed from the list, please just let me know!

It was a typical Saturday night in late April–at least, typical post-the radical turn of events that had started with Eddie’s own personal nightmare during the Spring Break from hell, that series of dominoes tipping over and taking his life up to where it was now. And where he found himself was at Hawkins’ very own local Dairy Queen with Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and a rabid pack of six hungry teenagers and one formidable preteen who could rule them all with an iron fist if she wanted, following up yet another successful session of Hellfire with some celebratory ice cream. 

Being able to hold a meeting of the Hellfire Club at all was cause for celebration in Eddie’s book, especially since the school would no longer allow them to host events on school grounds, despite the fact that all the charges against Eddie that had started the witch hunt in the first place had been dropped. Hawkins wasn’t exactly a forgive-and-forget kind of town, something Eddie had always known and been even more acutely aware of given the even more frequent, vitriolic stares that had been following him around since March. 

Still, he was soldiering on for now, at least until graduation–thanks in no small part to the apocalypse stopping crew currently clamoring over each other at the front counter. Despite the school’s best efforts, the club venue had been relocated to the Munsons’ newly minted trailer, courtesy of the government suits. And with the revival of their D&D campaign came the start of this new tradition–begun by none other than Steve himself, who had pulled up to Forest Hills to pick up the kiddos that first night, stuck his floppy-haired head out of his BMW like an overgrown puppy, and offered to meet everyone at the local DQ, his treat. The Corroded Coffin boys had begged off coming that first time–and the week after that, and the week after that–but, still. Standing under the hazy fast food fluorescent lights and with the promise of a chocolate malt ahead, life–for the moment, at least–was as good as Eddie could ask for, all things considered. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” With three quick snaps of his fingers, Steve tried to corral the kids into some semblance of order, one hand already settled in its customary position on his hip. “One at a time, you guys. Try to cut, ah…”

“Brandi,” the brunette behind the counter supplied helpfully when she saw Steve squinting at her name tag, face blooming into a bright grin. 

Eddie was pretty sure he recognized her from his second senior year math class, and there was a vague memory of seeing someone who sort of looked like her in the cafeteria tickling at the back of his mind, sitting a few tables from the jock zone amongst the lucky hopefuls looking to catch the attention of a baseball or basketball playing potential boyfriend. If so, that definitely explained the big moon eyes she was currently shooting Steve’s way. 

But Steve only returned her smile with a harried one of his own, his attention still firmly focused on the demands of his many babysitting charges. Eddie tried to tamp down the sick twist of satisfaction he felt when Brandi deflated slightly. 

“Right. Try to cut Brandi here some slack, alright? Believe me, slinging ice cream is plenty of work without having a bunch of little menaces shouting in your ear.”

As the group finally managed to file themselves into something that resembled a line–with plenty of jostling and grumbling along the way–Erica gave Steve’s polo a sharp tug and then jabbed two fingers in his direction.

“Free ice cream. For life,” she emphasized, the same way she did every week, like Steve needed the reminder. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved a dismissive hand in her direction even as he pulled out his wallet, same as he did week in and week out, putting on a show like he didn’t already know he’d be footing the bill for most of the munchkins’ orders. 

Robin had explained the situation to Eddie when he’d asked after their first DQ outing, with the same airy tone they all often used to describe the truly mind-boggling shit they had been through over the last few years. 

“Oh! It’s a leftover debt, from when we infiltrated the secret Russian base under Starcourt. Free ice cream was Erica’s price for getting involved. Never underestimate her ability to drive a hard bargain.”

Eddie had nodded, trying not to let how gobsmacked he felt about the entire story show. “Yeah, I, uh…wasn’t planning to. Lady Applejack is a force to be reckoned with.”

“You have no idea,” Robin had agreed, looking almost strangely…proud about the fact. 

That evening, when Eddie sidled up to join them, leaving Robin in position to guard the three booths sequestered off towards the back they had claimed as their own, he caught the tail end of the sheepies excitedly recounting tonight’s session for Steve. 

“And D20 is…good, right?” Steve asked, still watching the register as Brandi passed a vanilla cone with a hefty serving of whipped cream and sprinkles off to El. 

“Yes, Steve, it’s only the best roll you can possibly make in the entire game.” 

The no duh tone of Dustin’s voice was enough to have Steve raising an eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed. 

“Like sinking the winning shot after the final buzzer at the championship game kinda good,” Lucas explained, much more helpfully, his grin wide.

“Oh,” Steve nodded, and Eddie couldn't help but get distracted by the way his lips, pink and shining with a hint of chapstick, parted perfectly in understanding.

Eddie seized the opportunity to catch Steve off guard, hooking an arm around his shoulders and tugging him into his side. Delight bubbled in his chest at the way the gesture made Steve let out a loud, startled laugh.

“Should've figured that's all it'd take to rope you into playing sometime, Harrington,” Eddie shook his head solemnly. “Sports metaphors.”

“Always with the sports metaphors,” Dustin echoed. 

Steve reached out and swatted the brim of his cap, the force of it just enough to send it slightly askew and trigger a string of cursing from Dustin.

“Hey, I never agreed to that,” he argued, ducking out from under Eddie’s arm in one seamless motion. Jock reflexes, Eddie had decided, were both a blessing and a curse. 

He had learned that lesson firsthand in the past few weeks, as Eddie had grown more and more comfortable indulging in a little light rough housing with Steve, despite the fact that he knew there was no way in hell he had any better shot than their gangly freshmen did at not getting his ass handed to him. Eddie was stronger than he looked, sure, but he wasn’t exactly former basketball captain level athletic, not by a long shot. 

But was it really losing when he got to be pressed up against the firm planes of Steve’s chest, wrapped up in his strong arms–even if it was in a death lock grip–or occasionally pinned to Eddie’s own bedroom floor by him? Eddie definitely didn’t think so, and part of him was also just happy his recovery was going well enough he could scuffle, again. On his good days, at least. Doing it with his hot friend–and crush–was just an added bonus. 

“You know, it’s not my fault Lucas knows how to explain shit to me. I’ll stop talking in basketball when one of you two nerds actually manages to tell me what Mordor is.”

Dustin let out a huff. “If you just read the books–”

Steve cupped a hand around his ear, leaning down towards Dustin and hamming it up for all he was worth. “Huh? What was that? Cuz it didn’t sound like much of an explanation to me, Henderson.”

Eddie tugged a strand of hair across his mouth, trying to hide his grin. “Harrington, trust me when I say–you do not want to open that can of worms. Do you have any idea how long I can go on for once I get started? Hours, man. Days, probably.”

“Can’t be any worse than that time Robin tried to explain, uh…shit, what was it called? German New Wave? Or, no, maybe that was French Expressionism. I don’t know, the point is, it can’t be more boring than that was.”

“It's French New Wave!” Robin called from the back despite the distance, freakily intune with Steve as always. “Or German Expressionism. And sounds like you're due another lesson, Stevie-Evie. Don't worry, I've got a tried and true method to guarantee it all sticks this time.”

Steve groaned, dragging a hand over his face and into his hair–but his apparent grief at the thought of another Buckley-led film history lesson was quickly diverted when he realized it was his turn. 

From there, placing the rest of their orders passed by with little fanfare–apart from the brief, minor hiccup that came when Steve tried to pay for Eddie’s treat on top of everybody else’s. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Eddie waved a finger at him, just barely managing to step around Steve and hand his fistful of dollars over to Brandi. “Your money’s no good here, my liege.”

The title was enough to produce a patent Harrington scowl, all drawn eyebrows and pouted lips. 

When he opened his mouth to protest, Eddie cut him off again. “Seriously, Steve, I’ve got it. One shake isn’t gonna break the bank, you know?” 

“I know that,” Steve huffed. “I just–would it seriously kill you to let me treat you once in a while?”

Steve had done more than enough, and Eddie thought he damn well knew that. Between literally saving Eddie’s life when he’d been about to bleed out in the Upside Down and then sticking around through all of his recovery in the weeks after, the amount he had done was approaching near superheroic levels. 

“You know you don’t have to hover, right, Harrington?” Eddie had asked him one day towards the end of his stay in the hospital, gnawing anxiously at his bottom lip, as he watched Steve look up from the Sports Illustrated sprawled across his lap.

The truth was he hadn’t wanted to say anything, too afraid bringing it up would lead to Steve doing just as he was suggesting…finally leaving. But the anxiety humming in his ears that Steve was just here out of pity had finally become worse, forced the words from his mouth. 

“You saved Dustin, man,” Steve had replied, expression earnest, “and helped distract the bats from me and Nance and Robin, too. I’m not going anywhere. So, you know…get used to it.”

He had punctuated the last statement by giving Eddie a light, friendly slap on his knee, and Eddie had to bite back the beaming, relieved grin that threatened to split his face. 

Steve had stayed pretty much a permanent fixture in Eddie’s day-to-day life after that, proving time and again he was serious about being in it for the long haul. Even through all the embarrassing shit, like Eddie hobbling around on his cane like a baby deer on shaky newborn legs, or needing somebody to help him wash his hair. Not exactly the ideal position to be in with a hopeless high school crush that had come burning back to life with a vengeance, but Steve would hear none of it when Eddie tried to insist he didn’t need to go out of his way like this. 

“What, you want Henderson in here instead?” Steve had asked with a snort. “You gotta be kidding, Munson. Like I said, better get used to being stuck with me.”

“Happy to be stuck together with you anytime, big boy,” Eddie had flirted, the shameless bravado in place to cover up the very real fluttering of his heart.  

In other words…Eddie had already accrued more life debts to Steve Harrington than he could ever hope to repay. And while Steve might have insisted he was more than happy with nursemaid duty, Eddie really wasn’t looking to turn himself into a charity case. Not if he could help it.

So Eddie let his grin grow, obnoxious and wide enough to show off all his teeth.

“It might,” he quipped. “And how would you feel, Harrington, knowing that this was the thing that finally managed to do me in? I’m just trying to spare you the guilt, man, I know what a complex you’d get.”

“Whatever, Eds,” Steve scoffed, steering him towards the designated babysitter’s club booth with a nudge of his elbow, hands full of his and Robin’s matching strawberry sundaes. 

Steve took his customary spot on Robin’s side of the booth, the pair of them, as always, practically glued at the hip. Their friendship, Eddie had learned, was a boundary free zone, one that frequently involved holding hands, devolving into childish slap fights with little warning, and falling asleep sprawled on top of each other while watching bad daytime soaps at the Harrington house. Only their vehement denial and the goo-goo eyes Eddie caught Robin making at the red-haired chick–Vickie, he now knew–from band convinced him Dustin’s loud, frequent, and insistent claims that they were dating were total bullshit. 

As he was just about to slide into his own place across from them, a commotion at the table behind them called for Eddie’s attention. 

“Eddie, El wants to hear you do the roar again!” Mike requested. 

Eddie tilted his head to one side, stroking his chin, as though trying to recall what exactly Mike was speaking of. Biting his lip to keep from smiling, he gave Mike a shrug. 

“No clue what you’re talking about, Little Wheel.”

A chorus of cries rang out from both tables the party had overtaken, shrieks of “Eddie!” and “C’mon, man!” reverberating again and again in his ears. 

Spinning on his heel as though he was set to ignore them, Eddie answered Steve and Robin’s expectant expressions with a quick, subtle wink.

When he leapt up from the floor and into a crouch on the booth seating, Eddie felt a sharp tug at his sides, his scar tissue very eagerly making itself known. Gritting his teeth, he refused to let the hot flash of pain show on his face as he loomed over Will and El, hands curving into claws as he reached towards their table.

“Kas the Bloody-Handed demands vengeance!” he bellowed, letting his voice drop into a deep, growling register. 

His performance was met with what might as well have been a standing ovation, in his book–a series of delighted shouts from the boys, eerily similar head shakes from Max and Erica while they both visibly fought back their smiles, and El letting out a peel of giggles as she hid her face in her brother’s side. 

When Hellfire had started back up again, Eddie had considered starting over from scratch, maybe even trying this deep into the game to veer their campaign in a different direction. He didn’t want something that they all loved to become somehow…tainted, by reminders of everything that had happened. 

“Nah, man, just leave it like it is,” Steve had suggested, one afternoon when Eddie’s fretting had finally bubbled over to the point he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “It's good for their…trauma processing? Or something. I don’t know, you’d have to ask Owens about it. The point is, they wouldn’t want you to change it. Not unless you want to.”

In the end, Eddie had heeded Steve’s advice, figuring he knew more about the way those little hellions ticked better than probably anybody else, at this point. 

Moments like these made him glad he did, proof positive his instincts had been spot on. 

Eddie dropped, satisfied, down into the booth, his foot knocking straight into the side of Steve’s under the table. A little spark of pleasure shot through him when Steve simply bumped his Nike sneaker against Eddie’s Reebok in answer and then left it there, pressed close together.

“No wonder you did drama,” Steve observed, twisting a bite around in his mouth as he sucked up the bright red streak of strawberry syrup. “You’re a total natural, man. Kinda, like…hypnotic.”

Eddie tried not to make it too obvious, how closely he was following the way Steve licked up every last morsel.  

“Yeah, until he dropped out like a quitter.”

“What can I say, Buckley? Organized–well, anything really–just ain’t for me.”

“Says the guy who literally runs an afterschool club,” she pointed the end of her plastic spoon at him in accusation. “Sounds to me like you’re full of it, Eddie.”

“She’s got you there, man,” Steve agreed with a shrug, a drop from his sundae dribbling onto the table as he swirled it around yet again. 

“Oh, napkins!” 

Slapping a palm against her forehead, Robin clambered over Steve and out of the booth, not so much as hesitating to give him a chance to stand up. 

“You know, if you wanna see more where that came from–my flare for theatrics, that is–you could always, I don’t know. Stick around when you drop off the kiddos next week?” As Eddie posed the question, he wondered if the lilt in his voice sounded too hopeful. “I won’t even make you play. You have my word as a dungeon master and a gentleman.”

“Yeah, uh…fat chance of that happening,” Steve murmured, voice low, almost like he didn’t want Eddie to actually hear him, “your friends fucking hate me, dude.”

“They don't hate you,” Eddie protested automatically, feeling the need to defend them even as his own heart sank in his chest, “they're just…a little skittish, after everything that went down with Jason. You–you get that, right?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugged, looking down as he stirred his spoon through his steadily melting soft serve. When he glanced up at Eddie again, a tenseness crept in around the edges of his smile that Eddie desperately wished he could help wipe away. “I get it.”

Robin returned to the table before either of them got a chance to say anything else, sliding over Steve’s lap with enough clumsy limbed flailing it prompted a, Sheesh, Rob. Watch the elbows, will you? out of Steve. 

Seeing an opening, Eddie quickly changed the subject. 

“So, speaking of the ins-and-outs of living in the institution that is our organized society–how is Family Video treating my two favorite, upstanding, and gainfully employed Hawkins citizens?”

Robin snorted. “It’s minimum wage, Eddie. How good could it possibly be?”

“Well, I mean–you could trade places with me if you wanted. Be gainfully unemployed with a side hustle that went up in smoke since that whole–you know, accused of being a ritual Satanic murderer thing put the local law enforcement on your tail.”

Both Steve’s eyebrows shot up at that. “The cop’s still giving you trouble?”

“Not in so many words, but, uh–let’s just say they’ve made it pretty clear I’m not exactly their favorite person, right now. So, yeah. Officer Callahan must have circled the trailer park like–three different times, last night.”

“But…you were exonerated,” Robin protested, the force of her distress clear from the way she slapped a palm down flat on top of the table. “That–that’s a total misappropriation of police funds, not to mention harassment of a private citizen.”

“You ever think that maybe they’re just keeping an eye on the place?” Steve suggested hopefully, “You know…after everything that happened.” 

“Your adorably positive outlook has been noted, Stevie. Noted, but ultimately dismissed.”

“Want me to talk to Hop for you? Get him to tell them to stand down?” 

“Nah, man,” Eddie gave a forceful shake of his head, hair whipping around him in a messy cloud, “I can handle it. I’ve got plenty of experience, evading the Hawkins Police force.”

Rubbing a finger over his sideburn, Steve tilted his head from side-to-side in consideration, before he casually added, “Guess we all do, now.”

“A band of fearsome outlaws, that’s us,” Robin agreed, her nose crinkling as she laughed, loud and bright. 

“More like Robin Hood and his merry men.” At Robin’s pointed glance, Eddie was quick to amend, “…And women, of course.” 

The conversation flowed along at a rapid fire pace from there, the three of them at first trying to assign different characters from the story to all the members of the party before devolving fast into a debate about which cinematic performance of the lead character was the best–and sexiest, though Eddie didn’t divulge that was most of the metric he was using for his answers–and thus which adaptation came out on top. Robin fell into the same camp as him–Errol Flynn all the way–while Steve was a firm defender of the Disney version because, That little fox guy is cute and charismatic, guys, you can’t even argue with me on this one. 

When he had slurped up the last remnants of his malt, Eddie stretched his arms above his head, leaned back against the booth’s cracking red vinyl, and sighed. 

“Fancy a smoke break?” he asked, pulling the pack from his pocket and waving it tantalizingly for Steve to see.

Steve laughed with a roll of his eyes.

“You know I quit, dude.” 

“And so should you,” Robin added pointedly, an argument she’d made countless times since Eddie got out of the hospital, pretty much every single time she caught him lighting up. 

“Cut me some slack, Buckley,” Eddie said, same as he always did. “I’ve been through a traumatic experience. Ciggies are good for the stress, since I can’t exactly smoke weed outside this fine, family friendly establishment.”

“Uh-huh,” Robin replied, deadpan and unconvinced as ever, “we’ve all got our fair share of U.D. related trauma, Eddie. That’s not an excuse to suck on those…little sticks made out of cancer.”  

“Alright, well. Fancy a stand-outside-with-me-and-bullshit break, then?” Eddie directed at Steve. 

Robin raised an eyebrow at him, and Eddie couldn’t quite read the expression on her face. It seemed…knowing in a way he was too afraid to totally unpack. 

She saved him the trouble of having to do so by letting out a put upon sigh, dramatic enough for him or Steve either one when they got going, and a true reflection of the fact she had stuck it out through almost four years of high school theater. 

“Stealing away my own best friend to go join your boys’ club, Eddie? Really? And right in front of me, too. You know, this is just like second grade, when Trevor Milligan convinced all the boys in our class girls had cooties, and Bobby B. wouldn’t race me on the monkey bars anymore.” 

Laying a hand over his heart, Eddie had to fight down the grin that threatened to split across his face. “I solemnly vow to bring him back all in one piece, Buck. I know who's top dog around here.”

The nod she gave him was swift and authoritative. “And don’t you forget it.” 

With a wink and a click of his tongue, he mock saluted her. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She turned to Steve, giving his bicep several sharp pokes. “But just because I'm the girl doesn't mean I deserve to get saddled with child-rearing responsibilities, you know!”

“We're not children,” Red interjected with a dry sort of exasperation from the next booth over.

Her point was immediately undermined by Lucas, using the makeshift catapult he'd made from his spoon to fling a maraschino cherry at Dustin. The other boy let out an indignant squawk when it missed his mouth entirely and got caught right in his curly hair.

Even from behind her glasses, it was pretty obvious what sort of look Max was giving her boyfriend.

“Correction…I'm not a child.”

“Sorry.” Lucas's grin was sheepish.

“Rob,” Steve said flatly, ignoring the kids’ antics to instead pin her with his own look, like she was being ridiculous. 

Which was…pretty fair, this time, in Eddie's opinion. He wasn't sure he'd ever met anyone with quite the same intense level of tired dad–mom–whatever energy as Steve had, and all before he'd even hit his early twenties. When it came to babysitting duties, he definitely wasn't a slacker.

“I'm just saying, as a feminist, I thought you should know,” Robin waved her spoon at them, managing to pull the move off without so much as a drip of her ice cream plopping onto the table.

“We agreed that you'd be the fun uncle,” Steve argued, the lack of protest from Robin proving that was, in fact, a conversation they'd already had, “so then be the fun uncle while Mom and Dad step outside.”

“Mom and Dad?” Robin echoed, eyebrow raising and face scrunching in transparent disbelief–and Eddie had to admit, he was caught on the exact same thing.

Steve only waved a hand at her, rolling his eyes. 

“You know what I mean. Look, it’s only gonna be like fifteen minutes, tops. If you do it I’ll–” Steve spun his hand around in several aimless, pinwheel like motions before finally snapping his fingers in revelation, “I’ll let you put on whatever movie you want at work on Monday!”

Robin stuck her hand out to him. “Make it ten, and you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

Tapping a finger on his top lip, Steve pursed his mouth in thought for a moment. 

“...Twelve,” he bartered. “And you can make it a black and white one. With subtitles.”

Robin’s face lit up, teeth glimmering with the sheer force of her glee.

“Look at that. You really do know the way to a girl’s heart, Steve.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled, giving her hand one firm, business-like shake. 

Eddie was already up, having impatiently shimmied several paces away from the booth, by the time Steve stood and fell into step beside him.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Eddie couldn’t resist shouting over his shoulder, “Make sure they eat all their vegetables!”

Steve met Eddie’s shit-eating grin with one of his own before adding, “And no scary movies before bedtime!”

Seven individual hands all popped up, shooting them the bird as one.

By the time they stepped out onto the sidewalk, they were both stumbling into each other’s sides with laughter. 

—

Once they were outside and had managed to pull themselves together, Eddie stuck one of the smokes in his mouth and went straight for his lighter, his craving growing palpable. But, as that meant he had to rummage around the tangle of other things jammed inside his pocket, just laying in wait to come spilling out–like a nearly empty pack of Big Red gum, a crumpled receipt, and the spare die Eddie kept on his person in case of D&D-related emergencies–he fumbled it, the BIC hitting the ground with a sad thump.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he complained out of reflex, both from general annoyance and just a tinge of embarrassment, feeling the burn of it with his klutziness deciding to come out around Steve in full force. 

Nat 1 on charisma, Munson. Critical failure.

Steve waved a dismissive hand at him. “I got it, man, I got it.”

And before Eddie could protest, he was stooping down beside him to pick the lighter up off the asphalt of the Dairy Queen parking lot, giving it a toss into his hand like the total show off he was.

Eddie was about to make a crack about it, something along the lines of You just gotta demonstrate your athletic prowess in front of us lesser mortals, doncha, Harrington?–except, well. He didn’t get the chance. 

Because, one second, Steve was popping up and waving the lighter cockily at him, grin bright on his face, and, the next…

The next, and totally without warning, he was leaning in close, cupping his hand to light the cigarette dangling from Eddie’s lips for him. 

Eddie inhaled on instinct, taking a long drag as the cherry glowed to life, a stark red in the fading light of dusk. As for the sudden rush that went to his head–he had little doubt that it was just from the hit of nicotine alone.

And–maybe it was a trick of the low light. But for a long, breathless moment, Steve’s eyes seemed to linger on Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie’s heartbeat kicked up in answer, rabbiting wildly in his throat. The air between them grew thick, heavy-laden with tension that seemed to almost crackle like electricity. 

Eddie took the cigarette from his lips slowly, dropping his hand to let it hang at his side. And, still, Steve’s gaze never wavered, eye line still leveled directly at his mouth. If one of them were to just finally cave into the building pressure, sway forward and close that distance between them, maybe they could…

But, then, from one blink to the next, the heated expression on Steve’s face cleared, replaced by a guileless, easy smile. 

…Eddie tried to tamp down on the flare of disappointment he felt at the sight of it.  

“You know, man–Robin’s totally right about those things.” 

Steve dragged a finger across his throat, pretending to choke as he briefly mimed his own dramatic death scene. The Eddie of a year ago wouldn’t have believed it–but the Eddie of now knew better, had been exposed to Steve’s silly antics on more than one occasion. He could be just as big a goofball as Dustin, as any of the kids, as Eddie himself when he wanted to be. 

“You really should cut back.”

It was all so…normal. Casual. A light chiding about bad habits in an airy tone, like…

Like everything before hadn’t happened at all. 

Eddie stared at Steve for a long moment, trying to read the expression in his wide, hazel eyes. But…they were totally and completely inscrutable to him.

And, look. Eddie was queerer than a three dollar bill–had been since gawky adolescence hit him like a freight train, all too-long limbs and sudden, embarrassingly consistent morning wood. Dudes or chicks, it didn’t matter. Like Bowie, Eddie was an equal opportunist…for all the good it had ever done him, able to count the times he’d made a pass and hadn’t struck out on one hand. Being Hawkins local freak would do that to a guy, and that was before the murder charges and cult-leader accusations. 

But the thought that Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington was anything other than stalwartly heterosexual in the most apple-pie, white-picket-fence, boy-next-store way imaginable? The idea should have been laughable. And a year ago, Eddie would have done just that, laughed it off with a no way, man rolling easily off his tongue.

But now…now he wasn’t so sure. 

Because there was something electric about the growing familiarity that had popped up between him and Steve the closer they’d gotten since their fateful spring break excursion to the Upside Down. He felt it, when Steve slung his arm over the back of the couch when Eddie sat next to him during movie night, or laid a hand in the small of Eddie’s back, easy as anything, to keep him steady when the kids all jostled ahead of them to get through the door at the arcade. 

Maybe it was all just some vestige from Steve’s high school glory days, leftover jock rituals Eddie knew nothing about. Maybe it was total wishful thinking on Eddie’s part, as his crush steadily grew into something gargantuan. Shit, that’s what he tried to tell himself most of the time, if only for his own sanity–but he was still reluctant to say it was all in his head. Especially when moments like this kept cropping up more and more. 

…Eddie was too afraid to push it, though. Hardly over a month old, technically–even though some days it felt like a lifetime–the friendship between them was new. Not delicate, not hardly, but still not something Eddie was looking to scare off when it’d only just gotten started. 

So as the uncertainty settled over him, Eddie finally ducked his head for an instant, gnawing at his bottom lip. Then he reached over and gave Steve’s temple a teasing tap. 

“Sometimes, I just wonder what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours, Stevie.”

The flirtation was thick, sure, but it was easy enough to play it off the same way he always did–just some harmless teasing between two guys, nothing serious. Plus, Eddie figured Steve was more than used to his antics by now. Sometimes, his over-the-top personality really did pay off. 

But behind those words was the truth of Eddie’s thoughts, swirling over and over again. 

Fuck. If only I could get inside his head. Then, maybe I’d be able to figure out what the hell he’s thinking. 

For a split second, he could have sworn Steve’s shoulders stiffened, posture going unexpectedly rigid. But then Steve laughed, brushing the swoop of his hair back, fingers dancing tantalizingly close to Eddie’s own, and Eddie was left to wonder if it was just more of his mind playing tricks on him. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I’m like an open book. Ask anybody around and they’ll tell you–you don’t have to put yourself out to get an answer. It’s pretty much all, like…hair care tips and sports stats, 24/7 up here.” 

“Come on, Steve,” Eddie scoffed, “I don’t believe that shit for even a second.” 

Steve only shook his head, smile still firmly in place. 

“Not sure what to tell you, dude. It’s true. Besides,” the word came out lower, almost as if Steve was talking to himself, “between the two of us, pretty sure you’re more the man of mystery than I am, dude.” 

At that, Eddie let out a startled bark of laughter. 

“Me?! You cannot be serious with that one, Harrington, no way in hell. Have you seen me? If anybody’s the open book here, it’s me. I’m practically a screaming headline on the late night news. Every single thought and feeling I’ve ever had automatically comes flying,” Eddie pressed his hand against his lips and made a sound like an explosion, splaying his fingers out, “straight out of my mouth. Always has. Just ask my old man, he used to bitch about it all the time. ‘Quit that blubbering and toughen up, Eddie, or life will steamroll right over you.’”

Steve’s lips pursed, the same knowing but insulted look he always wore when the infamous Munson patriarch came up in conversation. 

“Your dad sounds like a real jackass, Eds.” 

Eddie could only hum his agreement. 

Everybody in Hawkins knew Al Munson, low down no-account that he was. His reputation preceded him–and Eddie, more often than not. But Steve had more of the inside scoop than most, Eddie having opened up to both him and Robin about his home life. 

Still, he wondered at the vehemence with which Steve defended him, any time the mention of his absentee patriarch came up. By contrast, Eddie didn’t know jackshit about the Harringtons apart from the fact that they were hotshots around town. Steve never mentioned them, not really, and Eddie had never run into them the times he’d been over to Steve’s place. Which was…pretty weird in and of itself, wasn’t it?

Yet another mysterious piece of the puzzle that was Steve Harrington. 

“I don’t know, man,” Steve shrugged, voice gone quiet again, tugging Eddie out of his reverie. “I kinda think your book might be in Hobbit, or whatever it’s called from those books you guys love so much, because I don’t really see you that way at all.” 

Reaching out, he suddenly caught a strand of Eddie’s hair between two fingers. Eddie sucked in a sharp breath at the gesture, face going hot. 

“Besides, haven’t you ever heard of tall, dark, and mysterious? If the hair fits.” 

Steve gave the curl a light tug before dropping it. Eddie immediately snatched it back up, tugging it like a curtain across his mouth, desperate to hide the faint color on his cheeks. 

“Guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one, dude.” 

Steve let out what sounded like an amused huff. “Looks like it.”

When Steve looked down at his watch, Eddie realized, in the time they’d been talking, that he’d smoked his cigarette down to a nub.

“We should probably head back inside,” Steve gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, “before all of Lucas’s toppings somehow end up in Dustin’s hair, and Robin decides to ground them all until they’re twenty-five.”

As he stubbed out the bud with his shoe, Eddie fiddled with his rings, trying to subtly shake off some of the tension that had seemed to build up in the air around their conversation. When he met Steve’s eyes again, he was all cheery smiles, hoping he didn’t look too manic as his cheeks stretched with the force of it.

“Well, now, we couldn’t have that,” Eddie agreed, even as he added, “–Thought she said she wasn’t parenting material, though? Pretty sure fun uncles don’t have to ground people.”

His own uncle was more like a father than anything else, and still he’d never really bothered to try grounding Eddie–his disappointed stare always did more to deter Eddie away from his own stupidity than anything else ever had.

“Sure, she says that, until somebody gets chocolate ice cream on her new favorite button down. Then it’s goddamn,” Steve let out one long, forlorn beep followed by two shorter ones–an unmistakable imitation of Pac-Man’s game over death knell, and proof of just how much time he spent at the arcade with the kids, “over for everybody involved, including me somehow.”

“I mean, you did call us Mom and Dad, man. Guess that makes us responsible whenever the kiddos misbehave.”

Steve sighed, long and loud and clearly just a little exaggerated for Eddie’s benefit, if the way Steve widened his eyes in mock fear was anything to go by. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. Those little shits can stir up all kinds of trouble in ten minutes flat. No telling what the damage is.”

So, with one last jocular pat to Eddie’s back, he began herding him back inside the shop.  

And when Eddie’s own traitorous heart gave a twist at such a small, meaningless gesture? All he could do was send a silent curse up to the sky, and do his best to ignore it. 

—

That night, Eddie fell through a tangle of twisting, nonsensical dreams.

At first, he was in the stolen RV, relieving a memory. The Upside Down crew–Nancy, Robin, Steve, Dustin–stood all around him, preparing for that fateful last trip to try and stop Vecna. After reciting their orders, his hand clapped down on Dustin’s head in reassurance, a last show of camaraderie before they headed off into battle.

But then, without warning, the ground seemed to shift right beneath his feet. 

Coming out of the haze, he found himself staring at a refrigerator, standing in a kitchen he didn’t immediately recognize. On autopilot, with a feeling like his body was being tugged by invisible strings he couldn’t quite control, his hand swung down again, the motion identical as he gave Dustin a fond scuff over his cap. Except…Dustin was shorter, this time, and undeniably younger. And Eddie, well–the Members Only jacket hanging over his shoulders was definitely not his own, though he thought he had spotted one identical to it hanging in the back of Steve’s closet.  

He barely had time to register those weird little details before the world was going topsy turvy yet again. 

Eddie was on his back, a swirl of bats circling overhead like a storm against the violent red splash of Upside Down sky. As his sides screamed in agony, wooziness clenched down on his mind with a vice grip, not at all helped by the fact that the scene around him kept changing. 

One second, he was shirtless, dampness and grime clinging to his chest hair, Nancy Wheeler’s mouth a grim line as she stared down at him with an oar in hand. Then he blinked, and Dustin’s face swam into view above him, fuzzy as Eddie’s own vision blurred around the edges. 

Blink. Wheeler and Buckley, fighting off demobats like two warrior women worthy of only the grandest of campaigns. 

Blink. Dustin, screaming his name so harshly, his throat had to be raw from it. 

Blink. The outline of Eddie himself, shouting up at the sky, demanding they give him all they’d got despite the fucking bone-deep terror he knew he’d been feeling. The out-of-body sensation that slammed into him, existing somehow both inside and outside the moment all at once, was so jarring Eddie’s stomach lurched, like he was going to be sick. 

Back and forth, again and again, like the world’s worst, most bizarre merry-go-round…until finally, Dustin solidified, Eddie’s own memory draping over him like a well-worn but ill-fitting shirt. He flinched a little as he felt dampness drip against his cheeks, and a long moment stretched on before Eddie fully realized that it wasn’t rain hitting him in the face, but instead the fat tears currently racing down the bridge of the other boy’s nose. 

He knew this moment well, viscerally, a long, hellish stretch that had revisited him night after night the past month–and one he’d do almost anything to forget. 

His final goodbyes exchanged, Eddie’s eyes slipped shut of their own accord. It wasn’t peaceful, exactly–some part of Eddie deep down still railed, pissed as hell at what was happening to him–but he was also so fucking tired, after days on the run. Worn out and fed up, and ready to just get some fucking rest.

So, when the blackness swallowed him, he couldn’t help but wonder if this time, it really would be for good.

–And then a faint, familiar voice rang out in the distance.  

“Dustin?!” Eddie heard Steve scream, like a tether pulling him back into his own body. “Eddie?! You gotta be fucking kidding me, where the hell are you guys?!”

The heavy thud of footfalls drew closer, and Eddie practically felt the ground shake as another body collapsed beside Dustin. 

The world flashed, spun again. Suddenly, Eddie was sliding across the rough terrain of the alternate world on his knees, the sound of Dustin’s soft cries making his heart ache…and his own lifeless body spread out on the ground in front of him. 

Large hands fisted in the front of Eddie’s vest, tugging at him urgently. 

“Munson! Munson!” Steve’s words spilled from Eddie’s mouth as his grip on the fabric tightened, giving him a hard shake. “Eddie, come on! I told you not to be a hero. Don’t even think about it, dude–you’re not dying on us now!”

Eddie remembered this, too. Steve’s steely, urgent tone, brooking no arguments, like he could actually will Eddie back to life if he wanted to. Except this time–this time Eddie actually felt the terror behind the words, the urgency making Steve’s voice tremble in his throat. Experienced, in real time, the relief hitting like a truck, flooding through his veins, when his own brown eyes slipped open. 

“Did-Didn’t realize you were my commanding officer, Harrington,” the Eddie on the ground murmured–more like croaked, the sentence breaking unpleasantly in the middle.

“You’re damn right I am,” Steve answered, jaw clenching, and Eddie could feel his muscle twitching with it, “if that’s what it takes to get you to stick around, man, consider me a five star general.”

He’s alive, he’s alive, the Steve in his head sang, again and again, thank fuck, he’s alive.

Because, there and then, he…was Steve. The twin emotions of Steve’s own swelling hope that Eddie might make it coupled with Eddie’s own real shock from what Steve was feeling at the time warred inside him, threatening to overwhelm him. 

Then, like the force of that emotion had thrown him, Eddie landed hard on his back again. Confusion hit him as he glanced down and realized that he was shirtless–Steve was entirely shirtless. Because this had been his memory, before, and now Eddie was back in it. 

The revelation had barely settled before agony quickly drowned out anything else, the demo-bats starting to gnaw at his bare sides. One of their tails wrapped tightly around Eddie’s throat, and his hands shot up, uselessly trying to pry it off. He could feel that darkness creeping in again, the familiar sensation of being knocked unconscious rising up to meet him. 

Fourth time’s a charm, I guess, the voice inside Eddie’s head was wry, and it still definitely wasn’t his own. You made a good run of it, Harrington, but looks like your luck finally ran out this time.

The resignation of it, the acceptance, was enough to shake Eddie to the bone. 

No-no-no, no! Some desperate, deeply buried part of him screamed out. You–You’re the goddamn hero, Stevie. You don’t get to give up.

When the oar slammed down near his head this time, Wheeler calling out a quick Hey, there with Robin and Eddie himself at her sides…Eddie had never been so happy to see someone in his entire fucking life, freaky out-of-body experience be damned. 

The vision, memory, whatever it was…it released Eddie, finally. 

And then Steve was there, standing before him, clad in nothing but sleep shorts and his gray Hawkins Phys Ed shirt, his hair mussed. Darkness surrounded them on all sides, too fuzzy and dim for Eddie to make anything out apart from the figure facing him. 

Steve’s lips moved, the shape of them making out what Eddie thought was his name. Dread dripped down his spine, however, as he realized that no sound–not so much as a peep–followed. 

“Stevie?” he answered, the panicked shrillness evident in his own voice even as he couldn’t hear Steve’s own. “I can’t–shit, man, I can’t hear you.”

Steve’s face drew down into a frown, forehead wrinkled, concern and frustration warring on his face. He tried to speak again, but still, Eddie couldn’t hear a thing. Hand flying upwards, Steve gestured to his own ear, finger tapping it once. 

Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, dude, I–I’ve got nothing.”

On instinct, he reached out a placating hand. Glancing down to see it extended towards him, Steve did the same. Eddie felt his chest clench a little, finding comfort in the thought that even in a moment like this, when they couldn’t hear what the other was saying, they still managed to broach some common ground. 

Their fingertips brushed. A spark ran through Eddie at the touch, seeming almost to infect their surroundings as red lighting suddenly flashed all around them.

Between one blink to the next, Steve disappeared. 

Before he had a chance to cry out, Eddie realized, horror steadily climbed up his throat, that the figure now staring back at him was…himself? 

And not a memory version this time, either. No, this was a living, breathing double. 

His doppelganger’s brow furrowed, head tilting to one side, a bit like a confused puppy.

It was like the sound had been turned on all at once, because when the other Eddie spoke, he could finally hear him.

“Eddie?” his mirror image asked, looking past Eddie, around him, anywhere but directly at him.

If he had ever made it to that shrink Owens recommended, he bet they would have had a field day unpacking whatever this was.

Hands Eddie hadn’t even realized had still been clasped parted, slipping away from each other.

And then, Eddie was sucked back into darkness, feeling adrift as any chance at seeing Steve, his doppelganger, anything and anyone vanished into the distance. He was lost, totally and utterly, and he felt it, every bit of it, the weight crushing in on him as the last dregs of the dream faded away.

—

The next morning, Eddie woke up in Steve Harrington’s bed.

Part 2

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