#this is very. very simple stuff. but i see grown adults saying that if you write and enjoy ‘dark’ media

[dovedrangeas]

the internet is a stupid place because you can see someone get accused of "openly supporting child porn" just because they like. post their works on ao3

[mysaintkitten]

Loser, Baby | Neil lewis x fem!reader

prompt: neil swears he’s grown now and that it’ll take more than a shitty porno to get him hard, so you put him to the test (this based off of a suggestion i was sent !! thank you very much to whoever sent this !! and a quick reminder to feel free to send me prompt and character suggestions hehe)

WARNINGS: subby!neil kinda, unprotected sex (p in v), orgasm denial, i think that’s all ?? (NSFW, no minors)

word count: 2.2k

“the new shipment has come in!” jonathan calls out from the front of the store, lugging in a medium sized cardboard box filled with tapes. he places the box down onto the checkout counter before temporarily leaving to find a box cutter.

you, neil, and lucien gather around the box. you’re a bit confused, you were expecting a shipment sometime next week- what’s this one doing here so early? but after all, you hadn’t been working here for too long so maybe unexpected shipments were normal.

“do you know whats in here?” you ask to lucien and neil, who both claim they have no idea. jonathan returns with the box cutter and slices through the tape that’s sealing the box together, proceeding to then tug the box open.

you peek into the box, and you’re taken aback by what you see- you must be seeing this wrong. VHS tapes filled with graphic covers fill the box, it’s hard to focus on one singular film when all the titles include words like GAPING or FUCK or HORNY. you can’t help but laugh, this must be a gag gift. jonathan and lucien shoot glances at neil before laughing themselves.

you turn to look at neil, but he’s not laughing, he doesn’t even look happy anymore, he looks livid.

“we can’t sell this shit, get rid of it.” he chided, crossing his arms in front of his body.

“what? dude, we can’t just get rid of these perfectly good tapes. we have a mature only section, this could bring in a whole new wav-“ lucien laughs before neil cuts him off, “no. get rid of them. it’s my store and i don’t wanna sell this shit. i don’t care what you do with them, but we aren’t selling them.” neil spat before leaving to head to the storage room.

you had never seen him this agitated, over some simple pornos too. i mean, you guys did have an adult only section and normally neil had no issue with selling those tapes. why were these different?

“guess he still remembers ..” jonathan whispers, snickering quietly with lucien. huh?

“still remembers what?” you ask, wondering if this situation was more layered than you initially thought.

“back in our freshman year of college, we’d rent these tapes and do that freaky-straight-boy circlejerk shit .. whoever came first would lose.” lucien says, beginning to take the tapes out of the box. “neil would lose, almost every time.” jonathan laughs.

god, no wonder he wanted these tapes gone. getting a better look at the covers, they were disgusting. not in an actual disgust way, but just so crude. filthy. and knowing neil was coming to these made an unfamiliar feeling bubble within your stomach. it wasn’t a bad feeling, it was just foreign to you.

jonathan and lucien take a few of the tapes and head to the back office to start figuring out how much they could sell the them for, and you feel your curiosity get the best of you. out of the remaining tapes, you shuffle through until one sticks out to you.

HOT, WET MILF GETS FUCKED HARD

lord, it’s almost refreshing to see a title that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. you know exactly what you’re getting into. you grab the tape and slip it into your purse, a new idea stirring within you.

you finish the rest of your shift and the topic of the tapes has seemingly come to a close, no one else mentioning them for the rest of your shift.

as you and neil drive home together, you bring the topic back to the surface.

“what’s wrong with the tapes?” you ask, wanting to hear neil’s side of the story.

he sighs, “i don’t know, it’s just, maybe it’s cause i’m older and stuff like that doesn’t interest me much anymore. or maybe it’s because i’ve realized how demeaning the porn industry is to women ..” he rambles, saying everything except for a direct answer.

“neil, neil, it’s alright.” you chuckle softy, “if you still enjoy porn, that’s okay, i’m not expecting you to lose all interest in viewing sex simply because we’re in a relationship.” you reply, hoping it’ll direct him towards giving you a more honest answer,

he starts to grip the steering wheel slightly, “well, it’s like, you know, i do still like to .. see sex .. but that stuff doesn’t turn me on anymore. i’m grown now.” he almost gloats. you decide to let him have this for a few minutes, or at least until you guys arrive to your shared apartment.

once inside, you decide to bring your idea to light. you place your purse on the couch, “so neil, baby, i’m gonna be honest with you” you say, “jonathan and lucien told me why you feel this way about these tapes, the jerk off sessions, you coming quick ..” you add, he becomes flushed, beginning to stutter while trying to find the right words,

“and since you told me that you’re grown now and that you aren’t into any of that anymore, i wanna put you to the test.” you continue before pulling the tape out of your purse, watching as neil’s eyes dart between the cover of the tape and your face. all while he’s still speechless, you skip the vhs into your tape player.

you approach neil and gently squeeze his wrist, guiding him over to the couch to sit down beside you.

“now, we’re gonna watch this, and whoever gets turned on first loses. since you’re not into it anymore, this should be easy for you, right?” you instructed, enjoying how blatantly nervous neil was. he was full of shit and you both knew that, but his pride overrides all other aspects.

he gulps, “yeah. i’ll be fine. how will i know you aren’t getting wet, though?” he replies back, a bit snarky, almost as if he thought he had stumped you.

“hm, guess we’ll just have to do it like this then ..” you stated, grabbing his hands and slipping it into your pants and underneath your panties, his cold rough hands cupping your warm mound. before he can even process what you did, you slide your hand into his pants and boxers, cupping him the same. he gasps softly, “no, no, this isn’t fair! you can’t just have me hold your pussy and expect me to-” he stammers

“sh, it’s about to start.” you cooed, turning your gaze to the screen.

it’s retro porn, filmed by shitty cameras and filled with shitty acting. all seems to be going well for the first few moments before any of the actual fucking starts, neil’s hips shift uncomfortably beneath your hand, but he’s still soft.

the people on screen begin to kiss, and moan, and grope. before long, the lead milf is on some sort of counter, legs spread with her bare pussy showing. she’s fingering herself in front of her counterpart, gasping and writhing about how wet she is and how badly she needs to be fucked. and before she even has a cock inside of her, you feel neil begin to pulse beneath your hand. he knows he’s lost. you both know. you carefully look over at him, he’s blushing and his brows are furrowed, his lips twitching ever so slightly. poor thing. the tape wasn’t turning you on, but seeing how affected he was, was turning you on.

you don’t mention it and kept this knowledge to yourself, you continue to cup him, but you gradually apply more pressure along with moving your hand around gently, adding some friction to the mix.

he subconsciously begins to grind into your hand slightly, his own fingers getting a bit curious in your pants, toying around gently with your folds. once the woman on screen starts to get actually fucked, neil’s undeniably hard.

you look over at him, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth while smirking, “you lost, baby.” you purr, weakly pumping him.

“n-no! i told you it isn’t fair! i was thinking about you being in these positions and i just got ..” he rambles, “i don’t care, sweetheart. rules are rules.” you cut him off,

“im not a monster, though ..” you murmur before taking your hand out of his pants and sliding his out of yours, you then proceeding to lift your hips off the couch to slip your panties and pants off.

you scoot your back against the armrest and spread your legs for him, “you can have your fun, i can’t just get you worked up and then give you nothing, can i?” you assured, watching as that familiar little grin formed on his face. he slips his pants off and scrambles to get himself between your legs, wasting no time aligning himself with your pussy. spreading your wetness around with his tip.

he nearly whines, “i kept thinking about your pussy .. and how hard it would get me to see you like that .. all spread out and wet ..” he begins to push the head of his cock inside you, “jus’ not fair ..” he mutters,

“worry about that later” you advised, slipping a finger into your mouth before bring that finger down to your clit, rubbing side to side gently against the nub.

that seems to work on him and suddenly he isn’t focused on the fairness of the game anymore. his hands sneak around your thighs, gripping on the soft skin. while slowly thrusting in and out of you, he brings your legs up to his shoulders before picking up his pace. placing small, wet kisses on your inner knees while gripping your hips tightly.

you moan at the gesture, snaking your hands around neil’s torso to tug at his shirt, needing something to grip while he begins to pound into you.

his thrusts are deep and desperate, like he’s that same horny college student all over again, this time with access to actual pussy. knowing how desirous he was for you made you wetter, you could feel him thrusting in and out of you with more ease and you could even hear how slick you had become as he continued to fuck into you, subtle squelching noises begin to mix into the already erotic array of sounds coming from the two of you.

“lemme see your tits, baby ..” he whines, nudging the bottom half of your shirt with his trembling hands, you oblige and lift your shirt up, revealing your bra.

though he wanted to see more, it gets him going none the less. he whimpers as he reaches his hand out to grip your covered tit, kneading the pillowy flesh while slowing down his thrusts slightly

he hooks his finger around the corner of your bra where the cup and strap connects and he pulls it down, just enough to where he can see a good portion of your nipple, a small groan leaving his lips as you feel him twitch inside you. it’s almost cute, seeing a grown man become weak at the sight of a bare nipple. he picks up his pace again and watches the recoil of your barely exposed tit as he pumps into you roughly.

“so beautiful, can’t believe you’re all mine” he moans, you hum in approval, smirking at him through half-lidded eyes, “get to fuck this pretty pussy whenever i like .. you’re a dream.” he purrs, his head going slightly slack against your calf that’s still propped up on top of his shoulder.

“all yours ..” you moan in your most sultry tone, trying to push him closer to the edge, “you gonna come in my pussy, baby?”

he whimpers again, nodding eagerly, gripping your thighs tightly as he picks up his pace.

“gonna come, so close, god, fuck!” he groans, nows the time, you think to yourself.

“stop.” you say firmly, placing a hand flat against his chest, his thrusts slow down before coming to a complete halt.

“wha.. what’s wrong?” he questions, breathlessly, still incredibly close to coming directly inside you.

“pull out.” you reply in the same tone, he whines, but complies.

“what is it? did i do something wrong?” he probes, a worried expression lingering on his face

“no, you didn’t do anything wrong, love. but you lost. and you can’t come until i say so.” you reply, reaching to the floor to grab your discarded pants and panties, his worried expression stays on his face but it shifts to a different type of worried.

“what? no! you can’t! i’m so close ..” he mewls, “you can’t just leave me this hard! i’ll die!”

you chuckle at his exaggerations, “you’ll be fine, it’s not my fault it takes nothing more than a strong gust of wind to get you worked up.” you say softly, bringing your body upright to cup his face before pecking him on the nose.

“i’m going to take a shower ..” you add before standing to your feet, his eyes are wide and his mouth is gaping, it’s comical to you, “you’re gonna be all soapy and wet in the other room and i’m supposed to just sit here, painfully hard, and deal with it?” he whines. you think he may be even cry, him being so pathetic is almost sweet.

“mhm!” you reply, ruffling his hair before turning your body around, leaving him on the couch to go shower.

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire: The Epilogue

biker!Eddie x artist!Reader

biker!Steve x Astrid (fem!OC)

masterlist playlist

wc: 14.6k

18+ONLY as always, adult themes, allusions to smut, backyard union/wedding, violence, auto theft, hustling, fist fight, mention of blood, mention of guns and shooting, relationship issues, Eddie is a cat dad, tw: Charlene, alcohol consumption, healing, lots of love.

Summary: If you're one of my ride or dies who have read this far, you know what to expect, but I do mention pregnancy and kids more than a few times, for good reason. We get to check in with what the gang has been up to, and how the families have grown. A little bit of drama, of course, and Coffin Kings mayhem. For the sake of this story, the character Bones is meant to be Tom Hardy from the yet to be released movie The Bikeriders.

A/N: This is reallyyy more of another chapter more and an Epilogue, lmaoo. I love all of these characters so much that I keep wanting to spin off in different directions and write a bunch of niche stories; I can see myself living in this world for a long while. I know I say it all the time, but my IoF readers mean so much to me, and I really hope you enjoy this. Please see a second author's note at the end.

--------

Highway 22 had once been the only main road out of town, but since the freeway came to Hawkins in the 60’s, very few ever took the country road lined with cornfields and alfalfa crops.  There were several homesteads scattered about, mostly farmers, and all of them spaced out by several acres; but for the home of the Whittiers—Bob and Helen—who just happened to live across the street from the place once owned by the Fergusons.

The first time they heard the rumble of motorcycles approaching, Helen screamed through the living room that it must be an airplane flying too low, about to crash into them.  She nudged Bob awake from his nap in the recliner and then ran out onto the porch, wringing her hands.

What she found was a motorcycle gang, clad in leather and covered in tattoos, crawling twenty deep into the driveway of their newest neighbors.

It was rare for Eddie to invite the entire local Coffin Kings MC and a few of the Hells Belles over, but the ceremony for Steve and Astrid’s union was an exception.  She was 8 months pregnant with the twins at the time, bursting at the seams, but Steve had this bug up his ass that he needed them to be official before the babies came, and Bones was happy to officiate.

Under an arbor in the neatly manicured lawn of your front yard, flanked in willow trees and cherry blossoms, Robin stood as Steve’s best man, and pretended like she’d lost the ring during the ceremony when he asked for it.  The panic in his face made everyone in attendance snicker when she pulled it from the tiny pocket of her vest with a wink.  Steve wore black suit pants with a collared white shirt, rolled up to the elbows, under his Coffin Kings leather.  Astrid looked stunning in a hunter green, off-the-shoulder dress with a few pieces of simple, gold jewelry, and a baby’s breath flower crown in her hair. 

Astrid didn’t need a ring, or any traditional symbols, and the material stuff meant nothing to her, but Steve insisted.  He took the extra step of getting her name tattooed on his ring finger, which made her roll her eyes and fall more in love with him all at once.  

You stood at Astrid’s side, making eyes at your boyfriend Eddie who was extremely handsome in his leather and a suit in the front row.  You were still reeling at the idea that this was your life, as fear kept trying to creep in and tell you it was all a dream, or that something would happen at any second to take it all away at any moment.  

You’d barely had the keys to the farmhouse for two months before the wedding, and so things were still stacked in boxes on the main floor, and the plumbing was a mess, but every morning, Eddie kissed you goodbye before work, and then you padded over in bare feet to the empty space with south facing windows that would soon be your studio. 

Wayne gave Astrid away, and there were tears streaming down Steve’s cheeks.  Once the official “I do’s” were said, everyone, including the bikers and their families in attendance, started to hoot and whistle for the kiss.  Steve held her face in his hands, and it was deep and sweet and made the obnoxious howling from the crowd melt into a collective swoon before erupting in applause.

Eddie’s heart swelled with love, not only for his friends who were finally getting the happy ending they deserved, but for you, and the promise of the life you were building together.  Neither one of you held the matrimonial traditions of society in high regard and didn’t need a piece of paper to prove that you were devoted to each other, but right then, watching you stand with Astrid, he thought about dropping to one knee and begging you to be his wife.

Neither one of you had a family history of marriage keeping people together, in fact, it had mostly only succeeded in fucking everything up.  In his heart, it was till death do you part, and that was all that mattered.  In fact, he planned on finding you in the afterlife as well.

Steve had Oliver on his shoulders while they cut the cake, but what everyone didn’t know was that Astrid was fighting some stomach cramping.  She figured it was the two babies kicking from all of the excitement, but the second the music started for the reception, her water broke.  

“This can’t be happening right now,” Steve was flabbergasted, holding up his wife so that she didn’t sink to the ground.  “They’re not due for another month?”

“Oh it’s happening,” Astrid gushed, framing her belly with her hands. “They are coming.”

“Take my car,” Katie offered, digging around in her purse for her keys.  The driveway was full of vehicles, pinning in Astrid’s truck, but Katie’s car was further out, near the highway.  

“We’ll be right behind you,” Eddie shouted, reaching for your hand.

Dustin was the voice of reason, stepping in front of him while the others headed for the vehicle.

“She could be in labor for hours, and you’ve got guests,” Henderson reminded his friend.  He was there with his wife Suzie and their daughter Stevie. “I say stay here, man.  Robin can call you from the hospital with an update.”

For a second, it had slipped both of your minds that you even had guests; approximately 87 of them.  

The big speakers Eddie had hooked up to a sound system were playing Hold onto Me by Cowboy Junkies, and the two of you turned to stare at each other, wondering what to do.  

“Dustin’s right,” you looked around, eyes settling on your ex-coworker Jeff who was drinking red wine straight from the bottle. “I don’t want anyone to puke in our bedroom or something.”

Suzie handed you a glass of champagne, ring finger heavy with a Princess cut diamond.  “I promise you, those babies probably won’t poke their heads out until morning.”

You just hoped nothing went wrong, since Astrid confided in you that labor had been notoriously hard on the women in her family; there had even been a few mothers who didn’t make it.  What if they needed to do an emergency C-section? What if one of them started to come out sideways?  

You were about to take a sip of the sweet bubbles when you saw Steve jogging back in your direction.

“Katie’s car is dead,” he huffed, headed for the back patio where his Harley was parked.

Craning your neck down the long row of cars, you saw Astrid sitting on the front bumper of the dark blue sedan with Oliver holding onto her arm while Robin and Katie appeared to be having an argument.  You were sure it was nothing personal, but tensions were high.

“Hold tight, let me grab the jumper cables,” Eddie jogged alongside Steve, aiming for the garage.

“Nah, it’ll take too long, we need to get out of here,” Steve was throwing a leg over his bike and revving the engine before Eddie could offer another suggestion.

You ran up beside Eddie. “He’s driving her to the hospital on that?”

“It appears that way,” Eddie stepped back so that Steve could roll by the two of you, fishtailing through the lawn before jumping a rock bed and weaving between the vehicles to pick up Astrid.

A lot of pregnant women might have hesitated to go by motorcycle, but Astrid did not.  She didn’t hesitate to get on behind him, knowing that the sooner they got to the hospital, the less likely things would go wrong.  Making room for her ample stomach took a moment of adjusting, but she strapped her helmet on before tapping his shoulder to let him know she was ready.

“You’re insane!” Robin shouted at him, and then she covered her face in frustration.  

Bones, Devlin, Van, Ratchet, and a few others went along as escorts, clearing the highway with their own bikes so that Steve could have the road. 

Across the street, Helen was on her porch with a pair of binoculars.  “Bob? Where are they taking that pregnant woman?”

Bob was in the living room with the TV on, and he pretended not to hear her.  

“The music is loud enough,” she scoffed.  “The whole thing better quiet down by 10 or I’m calling the police.”

If so, that wouldn’t be the first time she’d called the cops about her across-the-way neighbors.  The first time was during the week they’d moved in, and a couple of the Kings came over to help unload furniture.  Helen reported that there was a gang breaking into the Ferguson place to steal things.

“Let me get this straight,” Hopper twirled a pencil between two fingers while he spoke into the phone.  “They’re stealing things by putting them back inside the house?”

He very politely talked her down from a ledge, and then drove by on the highway to give her a wave so that she felt safe.  

The Velvet Hammer was closed the day of the wedding, as most of the employees were guests.  But the next day, Shana opened up the bar at 10, harboring one of the worst hangovers of her adult life.  

The shrill ringing of the phone made it feel like a buzzsaw was cutting through her skull, and Jackie leaned over the bar counter to snatch the receiver.

It was you, letting them know that Astrid had given birth to two healthy baby girls named Gracie and Rue early that morning, and that labor had been horrific, but their mother was on the mend.

Poor Steve.  When the doctor came out and said there were “complications”, he nearly tore down the wall trying to get in there to his wife.  The first baby, Rue, started to come out feet first, and he had this terrifying thought of the umbilical cord getting stuck around her neck or something, but once they got her turned around, the rest went smoothly.  He did the best he could to coach her through the breathing techniques they’d learned in the Lamaze classes, but at one point, she politely, yet abruptly, asked him to shut up.  

Not even three months later, Astrid was pregnant again.

They were certain that the procreation of the twins had been a fluke, a miracle; something that would only happen once in their lifetime.  

But they’d been gravely mistaken.  

They’d just transported the whole family to the ranch style home Astrid had inherited from her grandmother.  Everyone had their own room, including another living area in the basement, and a vintage Landshark Airstream trailer in the back yard where Steve and Astrid slept when they needed alone time.  It was the communal living, and the constant support from Robin and Katie, that kept them from mental collapse when they found out there was another baby on the way.

“What is wrong with you?” Eddie chuckled at Steve when he gave the two of you the news one morning over coffee at your kitchen table. “Couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few weeks?”

“I told you,” Steve shrugged.  “I have a magic dick.”

At that, you and Eddie shared an affectionate eye roll.  All joking aside, Steve was ecstatic about the news, bouncing on the balls of his feet everywhere he went at the idea of having a fourth child.  Astrid, on the other hand, was trying not to have a panic attack as she breastfed two infants at once.  If it happened to be another set of twins, she said she’d have to give one to you and Eddie.

You were testing paint swatches on the wall when Eddie snuck up from behind on the hardwood floor and put his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair.  He had on a pair of his “holiest” jeans that were so ripped and worn, they were about to be shorts, along with his Slayer shirt that now had wide, cut out arm holes, exposing his ribs.  

“Which one do you like more?” You asked, slipping your arms over his.

He hummed, kissing your earlobe.  “They all look yellow to me.”

“Close, but one is Summer Sunset, one is Lemon Cream, and one is—-”

“What about black?” He asked in all seriousness.  “Or gray?”

“Or we could just keep all of the wallpaper as it is,” you giggled at the tickle of his beard scruff on your neck.

The country rose wallpaper was lovely, but heavy pink floral themes in every room was a bit much for both of you.  “You’re right, I love Lemon Yogurt or whatever.”

“I figured as much,” You turned to search his face.  He’d been growing his bangs out, so they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears.  “How does tofu curry sound for tonight?”

Your lips met, and you could taste that familiar mix of wintermint and Camel Lights that you’d come to love.  He’d cut back to only a couple smokes a day, but he went through a pack of gum in an hour.  

“Mhhmm tofu,” he closed his eyes dreamily. “Is there meat in that?”

Just before the twins turned one, you and Eddie had your first big fight.  

Big enough that you threw some clothes in a bag and said you were going to stay with Katie and Robin right before you slammed the door so hard, a vase full of daisies he’d bought for you crashed to the ground and shattered.  

It was over something so stupid, really. The way he left hair in the sink after he shaved bugged the shit out of you, and when you rolled as far away as you could from him in bed, he took it personally.  You’d felt restless and out of your mind that week, and then you started your car to realize the gas tank was empty, even though he said he’d fill it up.  You promised Eddie you’d have some quality time with him one night, but then Steve needed you at the Hammer and…all of these things started to pile up until the dam burst.

You sat in your car with the engine on for a while, swallowing back hot gasps, unable to pull the trigger and drive away.  It wasn’t long before you felt his shadow, and a few soft knuckle taps on the window.

“Please don’t go,” he said.  

“I don’t want to go,” you shivered and finally broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face.  “I love you so much.”

Next thing you knew, you were in his arms, and then you were back in the bed you shared, begging him to be so deep inside, until it made you see stars.  

—-----

“An inch to the left,” Robin coached you from the ground as you were up on a ladder at the Velvet Hammer, hanging a piece of artwork along the brick red wall opposite the bar while Mother Love Bone played from the jukebox.  “Ah, right there. Perfect.”

You’d brought a few paintings over weeks earlier, at Robin’s request, and they all sold almost immediately, so she begged you to bring in a few more.  Still an employee at the Hammer, Steve offered you something more of an assistant manager position, but you were honest with him and confessed you didn’t want the extra responsibility, but that you’d help as much as you could.  Plus, the tips you earned waitressing mostly surpassed what they could offer you as an assistant, and you were under the gun to get a collection of work together for the upcoming show in Marysville.

The same Marysville shows at the airplane hangar where you’d bumped into Eddie and Charlene that one night three years ago. The memory felt surreal to you, as if it were something that had happened in another lifetime.  

The bar didn’t open for another hour, and Steve was hunched over a cup of coffee, popping energy pills he’d bought at the gas station.  

“Get any sleep last night?” You asked, on your way to return the ladder to the storage room.  

Steve grumbled something unintelligible, and his head bounced, nodding himself awake as if he’d been drifting off right where he sat. 

“Mae has some serious pipes on her,”  Robin quipped, speaking of Steve and Astrid’s newest baby girl, Mae, who was barely 16 weeks old.  “The only one of us she seems to want to be around is Oliver.”

The twins were over 2 years old by then, and just as much of a handful as you’d imagine toddlers would be.  Now with another baby, the family was running on empty.  You and Eddie volunteered to babysit Rue and Gracie for a weekend after Mae was born, and even though you loved the girls dearly and cherished the time with them, you found yourselves counting down the minutes until their dad came to pick them up on the last day.  “I’m glad we decided not to have kids.  Steve’s brood is more than enough,” Eddie whispered to you at the window watching Steve drive off.  He even considered getting “snipped” around the time Steve had the procedure, just as a precautionary measure.

“Why are you here so early anyway?” Robin asked around a yawn, adjusting the clasp on her denim overalls.  “Go home and get some rest.  I’ll stay until Shana gets here at noon.”

Steve yawned too, stretching his arms above his head as he stood.  He wore a nice pair of blue denim jeans and a sage green pearl snap shirt that was buttoned wrong.  “Can’t. Interviewing for a new apprentice over at the shop.”

Construction on the tattoo parlor next door took longer than anticipated.  So long, that Eddie got frustrated enough to go ahead and do a bunch of the work himself.  They’d just passed inspection the week before and were anxious to get some bodies in there working.  They’d decided on the name Velvet Ink, and Wayne found some vintage barber chairs at auction for the reception area aesthetic Steve was looking for.

As of then, Wayne was fully in remission and getting his strength back. He’d even been well enough to take his 1948 Harley-Davidson Panhead out on a few Sunday cruises with the boys.  Rue, one of the twins, took to him like glue, and Eddie remarked that he’d never seen the old man smile as big as he did when she called him “gan-pa”. 

Taking the last big gulp of his coffee, Steve made his way out, letting in blinding beams of sunlight when he pushed open the front door of the Hammer. He paused for a moment to look at the padded leather stool that was there, the one he’d parked his butt on for many a night.  Even though he helped to keep the peace if necessary, most of the past two years had been spent behind the scenes.  A weird, secret part of him missed it; missed the simplicity of being a bouncer, versus being the owner of two businesses.  Before he knew it, reminiscing on his old life brought his thoughts back to Charlene.

He was sure that she kept tabs on him, and he hoped she never decided to drop in and wreak havoc on his life again, but he was grateful for the fresh start she’d given him.  He hoped that she was enjoying herself with Billy…or whoever the hell she was fucking those days.  

—-----

It was Eddie’s night to make dinner, and you spotted him fussing in the kitchen through the side window of the farmhouse when you drove up that night.  It looked like he touched something that was too hot and was snapping his hand in the air to cool it off.  

You saw his motorcycle parked in the red barn, and wondered if he was planning to do some repairs on it.  The Chevelle was no longer around, as he’d sold it to a collector up north so he could get a pickup that would be more useful to your new lives.  You’d begged him not to, as  you knew how hard he’d worked on it over the years with Wayne, but he couldn’t be swayed otherwise.  .

Turns out, your man was extremely stubborn.

“Hey there, Dungeon Master,” you greeted him, shutting the back door to take your coat off.  He’d been teaching you to play DnD now that he had a new head mechanic at the shop, giving him a bit more time to lean into his hobbies. Max and Lucas moved back to town, and Eddie was happy to teach Lucas how to operate the tow truck when he voiced that he needed a job.  

In a black Hanes tank and jeans, your man was barefoot with his hair tied back.  Looking down at the pot of sauce he was stirring, he smiled so big his dimples popped.  “You really like calling me that, don’t you?”

Calling him Dungeon Master was a new kink unlocked for you.

You set your bag on one of the kitchen chairs and wrapped your arms around him from behind to sink your teeth into his shoulder.  “I love finding out what a nerd you truly are.  It’s hot.”  

He lifted up a wooden spoon full of marinara, cupping his other hand underneath, and turned to blow on it before putting it to your lips.  

“Smells yummy,”  you said before taking a taste.  He watched  your mouth, but then eagerly found your eyes for the verdict.

“Mhmm baby it’s delicious.”

Satisfied, he went back to stirring. “Astrid gave me her recipe.  I’ve never made it from scratch before,” he took a lick off the spoon for himself. “I think I used too much garlic.”

Another facet of Edward Munson you’d never realized before was that he was a natural in the kitchen, and found a lot of joy in cooking.  One of the first things he made when you first moved in was chickpea patties for burgers, and whenever the two of you went into a bookstore and you found him browning the vegetarian cookbook section.  

If  you weren’t working at the Hammer, nights at home were very low key.  There was the occasional concert or dinner on the town, but mostly nothing sounded better than curling up on the couch with him, or on the porch swing with a cocktail.  Charlie was strictly an inside cat, but you found a stray living in the barn.   All black with green eyes, a recent visit to the vet let you know that she was pregnant, and a litter of kittens was on the way, one of which had already been claimed by Oliver.  So, you brought her inside and made her comfortable in the guest bedroom, until just yesterday when  you found her curled up for a nap in Eddie’s lap.

He named her Scully because of his love of The X-Files, and you wondered if he’d be able to give the rest of the kittens up for adoption with the way he fawned over his new companion.  He bought her a fancy collar with a bell, as well as catnip and special treats that she was forced to share with Charlie.

Later that night, sprawled on the couch with your head on his chest, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open during an episode of Saturday Night Live when the phone in the kitchen rang.  You almost jumped out of your skin, and both of the cats sprang from their perch on top of the couch.

“What the shit,” Eddie grumbled, gently sliding out from underneath you just as a second ring shattered the once peaceful evening.  

“Who would be calling this late?” You said groggily, pulling the blanket up to your chin to turn and watch Eddie disappear down the hall.  

“I don’t know, but this better not be Steve wanting to rant about one of his late night epiphanies.”

Phone calls at midnight were rarely ever a good thing.  You sat straight, waiting to hear Eddie pick up the receiver. Had someone been hurt? Were the girls okay? Had something gone wrong at the Velvet Hammer? Maybe it was Bones needing Eddie for something to do with the Kings, and if so, you didn’t want him to answer it.

Eddie jerked the white, cordless phone to his ear, frowning.  “Yeah? This is Eddie.”

You shifted to the edge of your seat, muting the TV so that you could hear him.

“How did you get this number?” He mumbled gruffly.

That made you get to your feet.

“...what makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

You took a few steps and froze.

You had a very bad feeling that you knew exactly who it was at the other end.  

Eddie locked eyes with you when you came to pause at the stove. 

“You have to be mistaken, there’s no way he was one of ours—-,” Eddie said to whoever it was, shaking his head.

You reached out and motioned for him to hand you the phone.

He swallowed, hesitating at first, but then you took it from him and put it to your ear.

“Charlene?” Your tone was patient. “What’s going on?”

—----

Earlier that evening at the Harrington residence, Astrid was breastfeeding Mae in the rocking chair while Katie helped the twins get dressed after their bath, and Robin washed dishes with Oliver.  The TV was on, but no one was paying any attention to it, and Mae nestled against her mother like she was finally ready for sleep.

God, Astrid was tired.

Exhausted to the marrow of her bones and beyond.

Absolutely in love with her daughters and in awe of the beautiful family they’d created, but wishing she could have a few hours away from it all, just the same.

The twins were being loud, giggling as their Auntie Katie ushered them across the hall to their bedroom, and Astrid held her breath, worried they’d wake the baby up.

She let Robin know she was putting Mae in her crib, and then went to take the first shower she’d had in a while, feeling her stretch marks and all the ways her body had changed after carrying three babies. She never doubted Steve’s attraction to her, but he tattooed gorgeous women every day, not to mention the ones who waited tables in fishnet stockings and danced at the Hammer.  She was sure a handful of those young beauties had a crush on their boss and would offer him comfort any time he wanted it.

She hated when her mind went there, when she could feel the walls of insecurity and depression closing in.  She wanted to be nothing but grateful for every waking moment, but sometimes she was way too tired to think clearly.  She needed to cry or scream or fuck… or something.

Between the kids, Steve’s schedule, and having zero energy at night, she couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had been intimate.  A few kisses and touches in passing was really all it had been.  Considering the insatiable hunger they’d had for each other over the years, it made her worry that he just wasn’t attracted to her anymore.  But also, she knew that was bullshit—-but the whispers kept nagging at her.  

On her way back down the hall to her bedroom, she could hear Oliver reading the girls a bedtime story and she paused to listen, emotions catching in her throat.  Rue and Gracie loved him so much, and he was such a wonderful big brother, slipping into the role like he was born for it. Born to be a nurturing, caring soul just like his father.  She often wondered if Ollie would grow up to be who Steve would’ve been, if he had been surrounded with love as a kid.  Before Wayne took over his care, he hadn’t known much comfort or safety.  

Steve came home smelling like a distillery, and when he tried to kiss her on his way in, she moved her head away.

“Where have you been?” She didn’t have to ask, it was obvious he’d tattooed late and stayed to have a few drinks. She missed the guy who would spend hours rubbing her belly and talking to the babies inside of it.  It was the closeness she missed, not the sex itself. 

Alarms went off in Steve when he caught the way she didn’t want to look at him, the way she shrugged away from his touch.  “Hey, baby, I’m sorry.  Jake paid extra to have his back piece finished tonight and so I—”

Robin and Katie had adjourned to the basement, and Astrid was folding laundry at the couch. “You just thought you’d booze it up with your buddies while I took care of our girls?”

He lowered his arms to hook his thumbs into his belt loops.  “I thought about calling but I didn’t want to wake the—”

“Your daughters are all asleep.  Gracie was asking for her daddy,” she pinned a towel to her check with her chin and folded the ends together.

Steve’s heart tightened, thinking of how he’d missed his baby girl asking about him.  Thinking of how he was already letting her down.  “I’m gonna sneak in and say goodnight,” he mumbled, heading that way.

“Please don’t,” Astrid snapped. “It took a long time to get them to calm down, but you’re rarely here at night so you wouldn’t know.”

Okay, something was definitely wrong.  He’d fucked up, but he wasn’t exactly sure how.  Astrid knew that he’d have some long nights, this was something they’d talked about.  There had to be something else going on.  

He sat down on the edge of the recliner, facing her, and laced his fingers together.  “Is there anything…you want to talk about?”

Astrid scoffed, keeping her eyes on the TV.  “Where do I even start?”

“I’m sorry if I—”

“Just say it, Steve,” she bit, stacking folded towels on top of each other.  “Just say you’d rather get drunk with the dancers at the Velvet Hammer rather than come home and be with me.”

At that, he was dumbfounded. Gobsmacked, even.  

“How could you…what? That’s crazy. Shit, you know other women don’t even exist for me, Astrid,” he kept trying to catch her gaze, but she’d avoid it.  “No one has ever meant more to me than you.  You're the love of my life.”

“I can tell you’re not attracted to me anymore, Steve. Just say it, I don’t float your boat.”

“Float my boat?” He almost chuckled at that, but immediately caught himself, realizing that it wasn’t a good time for humor.  

There were tears welling in her eyes and Astrid bit her cheek in an effort to keep them at bay; her shoulders were shaking.

“Hey, listen, baby, c’mere,” he stood and reached for her hand.  She let him have it, dropping the t-shirt she’d been holding.  “Tell me you love me? Please?”

“Have you fucked anyone else since we’ve been together?’ She stared at him that time, eyes wet.

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Never even crossed my mind.”

She swallowed thickly, lowering her gaze.

“Wait,” Steve’s mind raced, realizing that it had probably been months since they’d had sex.  “Have you? Fucked another dude?”

That one pissed her off, and it showed in the look she shot him. “When the hell would I have time for that, Steve? I barely have time to pee.”

He let go of her hand.  “Oh, so, you’ve wanted to, with other people…you just don’t have time?”

“Steve, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

He pulled her over so that she was in his lap, and she only fought him a little because then she was crying into his neck, overcome with exhaustion.

“Tell me,” he said softly, brushing her hair away to kiss her forehead.  “Tell me you love me.”

“You know I do,” she sniffed, letting the tears roll hot down her cheeks, pulling her knees up so that she was snug in his lap. 

“Say it,” he was pushing it now, tipping her chin up to find her mouth with his.  

She mumbled her devotion as the tip of his tongue dragged along her bottom lip.

She clung to him as she cried it out for a minute, letting him hold her close and stoke her hair.

“Is she okay?” It was Oliver.

He’d snuck in from the other room and was watching the scene with a creased, worried brow.

“I’m fine, honey,” Astrid sat up, wiping her eyes.  “It’s just been a long day.”

Oliver stared at his dad, almost defiantly.  “I don’t like to see her sad.”

Steve saw his own tender perception mirrored back to him in his son's eyes.  “I don’t like it either, come over here,” he motioned for Ollie to get close enough so he could put his arm around his son.  “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I didn’t want to miss you again,” Oliver admitted, sending another pang into Steve’s heart.

He’d gone from working all the time to…working even more, and something had to change.  He hated being away from his family so often that he missed bedtime several days a week; they needed to hire more full-time help like Robin suggested, but Steve and Eddie were trying to pinch every penny.

After he talked to Oliver about his day, Steve realized he needed a goddamn smoke.  Since the twins were born, he’d tried several times to cut back, but decided to quit cold turkey two days ago, and it wasn’t working.  He needed to get some of those nicotine patches or something because being irritable with a throbbing head was no way to live in tandem with everything else on his plate.

Two hours later, after he’d tucked Ollie in and everyone else in the house was asleep, Steve made love to his wife. 

He was about to try for a second round when his beeper on the nightstand started buzzing.

The alert was from Eddie.

Steve frowned at the number and excused himself to use the phone while Astrid pulled her robe on to go and check on Mae.  

Come to find out, the past was indeed back to haunt him, yet again.

—--------

Hawkins was the last place Charlene ever expected to be on her birthday weekend.  She’d said goodbye to that place forever, or so she thought, as there was nothing for her there.  Her relationship with Billy lasted the better part of a year, but when she found out he’d been cheating on her with their neighbor, it didn’t even phase her.  Normally, she would’ve been furious and exacted some elaborate revenge on the two, but at the time, she only shrugged and told him good luck.  She was never in love with him, he’d been just another way to pass the time; a way to distract from her deep, soul-sucking loneliness. 

Just before the separation from John, she’d purchased a storage unit for sentimental items she didn’t want to look at, but also didn’t have the heart to throw away.  She’d considered letting someone from Storage Wars buy it just so they could be disappointed, but there were private letters and photos in there that she never wanted anyone to see, especially not strangers.  So, she was back to clean it out and burn whatever she no longer wanted to hold on to.  

She was in disguise, so to speak, with a new cropped brunette hairdo, and oversized sunglasses.  The divorce and the bankruptcy of one of John’s businesses made headlines in the paper for weeks, as there was clearly not much to talk about in Hawkins, and for the first time since marrying into money, she didn't want to be recognized.  

She promised she wouldn’t punish herself by driving along the street in front of the Velvet Hammer, but she did it anyway.  She picked up her white 1970 Jaguar XKE from the secure garage it’d been stored in, and parked across the street to watch you carry a huge painting in while Robin held the door for you.  The neon sign for Velvet Ink was clever, and she sat there for over an hour, until Steve finally stepped out of the main building.  He squinted up at the daylight, shaking his fist like he wanted to punch the sun, and went next door to shake hands with a woman who was tattooed neck to foot, before unlocking the door to the parlor.  

She had plenty of phone numbers for young men who would love to get paid to be her escort, but she was tired of paying people.  She wanted someone to want to be with her, and be protective of her, without the money or the status, and she was realizing she didn’t know how to act normal when it came to earning someone’s genuine affection.  

So, that night, she was alone at a swanky rooftop bar drinking a dirty martini and listening to someone playing a Christopher Cross instrumental on the piano.  

Eating the last olive, she was thinking she’d make her way to her hotel when she felt a body sink down for a seat just one stool over.  She smelled him first; a familiar mix of leather and nicotine, but this one had superior taste in cologne as she recognized a hint of cedar and honeysuckle from Dior’s Fahrenheit.  

He ordered a beer and a shot of Jameson and then, to her surprise, he leaned over and pointed at her empty glass.  “Can I buy you another?”

Her first instinct was to flat out ignore him or say, “no, I can buy my own drinks, thanks,” but then she turned to see who the voice belonged to, and her tongue got stuck on the roof of your mouth.  

Maybe ten years her junior, he wore his jet-black hair slicked back, while his full lips and hazel eyes reminded her of someone.  She could tell he was tall with broad shoulders, and a couple tattoos exposed where his shirt was pushed up to the elbows.  A few chunky metal rings similar to the ones Eddie always wore, and from the insignias on his leather vest, she could see that he was also a member of the Coffin Kings MC.  

Charlene notoriously had a thing for outlaws, especially pretty ones, and so she let him buy her that second drink, and then a third.  

He said his name was Nick, and she was relieved to find out he appeared to have no clue who she was.  She said her name was Rita, and after that third drink, she invited him back to her room to continue the party there.  

Inviting a stranger back to her suite was not how she’d expected the evening to go, but the need to feel the weight of him on top of her overrode any common sense that might’ve tried to dissuade her. He was sexy and he made her laugh, and those were the only qualifications she needed at that moment.

After a few hours of getting to know each other in the biblical sense, and enjoying the mini bar, Charlene excused herself to the bathroom.

“I think I need a shower,” she hummed, lifting an eyebrow.  “You want to join me?”

He was stretched out on the bed naked with his hands behind his head watching an episode rerun of ER.  

“You go ahead, babe,” he seemed to nestle further into the pillows after that term of endearment, shooting her a wink.  His Coffin Kings leather was neatly folded over the back of the nearby chair.  “I’m gonna make us a couple more drinks.”

She left the bathroom door open a crack, just in case he changed his mind, but then she got fully absorbed in how heavenly the steaming hot water felt.  She thought she heard him come into the bathroom at one point, so she peeled the curtain back a few inches, but only found her reflection in the mirror.  

By the time she turned the water off, the steam from the hot shower was as thick as soup, and she realized that at one point, he’d shut the door all the way for whatever reason.  Perhaps for her modesty? Him being such a gentleman felt almost too good to be true.  

“You could order some food from the late-night menu if you’re hungry,” she said from behind the closed door while brushing her hair out.  “Pie sounds good for some reason.”

Either he wasn’t responding, or he did, and she just couldn’t hear him over the audience laughter on the TV.  She rubbed in some expensive body butter and then checked herself in the mirror a few times while putting the fluffy, white hotel robe on.  

“But if you need to go home I’d understand, as long as I can have one more—-”

She opened the door as she spoke, but then stopped dead in her tracks.

Nick was no longer sprawled on the bed, and all of his clothes were gone, even his kutte.

Nothing wrong with that, maybe he went to get ice or to take a phone call.

The suite was large, with a separate sitting room, and so she checked around for a bit before realizing he had, in fact, vanished.

Anxiety rose in her chest but she pushed it down, taking a seat on the edge of the bed to reach for her lipstick on the nightstand.

But the lipstick was in her purse and there was no purse to be found, just a few condom wrappers and tiny, empty bottles of booze.

She’d taken her purse into the bathroom with her, she was sure of it.

After a few sweeps of the place, mumbling to herself in disbelief and horror, Charlene realized that her purse, her money, and her car keys were all gone.

She’d been hustled by a member of the Coffin Kings, and the truth of it made her scream into the palms of her hands.  

She sprinted for the window to yank the curtains back.  It was the middle of the night, and they were on one of the highest floors, and she couldn’t see the Jaguar from there even with binoculars.

She didn’t even bother to change out of her robe or put shoes on as she bolted from the room.  She was pissed, sure, but there were sobs catching in her throat, and that old loneliness dropped like a lead weight, threatening to bring her to her knees.  

By the time she rushed breathless into the lobby, Nick and her car were long gone.  

—------

For whatever reason, Charlene asked Eddie specifically not to tell Steve; she didn’t want to face him under such lame circumstances.  But the two men made an agreement a while back that one would tell the other if they ever heard from her, just to keep miscommunication to a minimum when dealing with someone who had a track record for manipulation.  

“She thinks one of you put this Nick guy up to it,” you said, standing at the door watching Eddie get dressed.  “As payback or something.”

Eddie frowned, adjusting the strap on his watch.  “If I felt like I needed to get back at Charlene, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust someone else with the task.  Plus, I didn’t even know she was back in town.”

“Did Steve know?” 

The last person you ever wanted to feel bad for was the rich white woman who tried to ruin your life, but still, you didn’t like the idea of any woman getting hustled and used in that way.  

Okay, maybe Charlene deserved some payback, but you hated to think that someone from the Coffin Kings was out there making a habit of taking advantage of women in such a spineless way.

Eddie was rummaging through the top dresser drawer.  “We don’t even have a member named Nick, so that’s another whole fucking problem.”

“Another charter, maybe?” You followed him into the kitchen.

“Maybe,” he put his leather jacket on while Scully wound herself around his legs. He bent down to pet her and spoke to her in a baby voice before finishing his thought. “Or maybe it’s something worse.”

You didn’t have to ask to know that impersonating a member of the MC was a big problem. 

Under any other circumstances, Eddie would wait until the next day to deal with whatever happened to Charlene, but the chop shops worked fast, and if they didn’t hurry, they’d never get her car back.

Why did Eddie even care? He asked himself that on the way to meet Steve at the hotel, rumbling along in his midnight blue, square box Chevy.  She could’ve just called the cops and let them sort it out. But Eddie knew that, aside from Hopper, the police force was a joke, and there would be days of paperwork and questioning before anything attempted to get solved.  By then, whoever the guy was would be long gone, and the Jaguar on a cargo ship to its next owner.  

Steve was already in the parking lot, leaning against his bike with a smoke in his mouth when Eddie rolled up.

“How the hell did you get here so fast?” He asked, slamming the door of his truck.

“Left a message for Miser down at the chop shop,” Steve exhaled, ignoring his friend’s question.  “He said he’ll keep an eye out for the car.”

Eddie had already sucked down his ration of cigarettes for the day, so he shoved another piece of gum in his mouth as they made their way to her floor.

There was a crystal chandelier in the lobby and mirrored elevators that gave Eddie the creeps.  

“You think it’s some sort of trap?” Steve had his hands in his pockets, leaning in the corner while they traveled up with a Beach Boys instrumental played from a speaker in the ceiling.  “Like she’s trying to trick us or something?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Eddie muttered.  “I’m not gonna mention it to Bones and the rest until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Still in her robe, Charlene would’ve touched up her makeup to look presentable, but her Estee Lauder compact, and mascara were both in the stolen purse.  Also, she was too upset to care. She’d called to cancel the credit cards in her wallet, but there was a bunch of cash that she’d surely never see again. She’d have to contact her bank in the morning, but until then, she was basically squatting in that expensive hotel room.

Eddie did not look happy to see her when she opened the door, but she’d expected as much, tucking her bob of hair behind her ears. 

What she hadn’t expected, and what made her breath catch, was that Steve rolled in right behind him, scowling.  He had what appeared to be baby spit up on the front of his Santa Cruz skate shirt and dark indents under his eyes.  

Steve didn’t acknowledge her, he just breezed into the room and started looking around like he was a seasoned detective at the scene of a murder.  

Charlene gave Eddie a look, whispering, “I asked you not to tell him?”

All Eddie could do was shrug, as he was still weary of her intentions, and for good reason. 

Steve couldn’t help it, ever since the birth of his daughters, every injustice done to a woman in the world was something that could potentially happen to his girls, and he wasn’t having it.  

“What did he look like?” Eddie asked the question just as Steve spun on his heel at the other side of the bed.  

Hands on hips, she gave the description as best she could, and it sounded like half the guys in the club.

“He said his name was Nick?” Steve picked up the remote to turn the TV up a notch.  Unsolved Mysteries was on and he was suddenly interested, forever distracted.  “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

Charlene scoffed. “I had no reason to think he was lying? I didn’t ask to check his driver’s license.”

“Maybe you should from now on,” Steve kept his eyes on the screen, sitting down at the end of the bed.  “The way you go through men like a meat grinder.”

“Look who’s talking, Romeo,” she spit back.  

Charlene turned to complain to Eddie, but instead he held his hand up, palm out to silence her.  “Are you sure he was with the Coffin Kings?” 

Charlene tightened the sash on her robe. “Okay, you two can feel however you want about me, but you know I’m nothing if not observant.”

The two were silent in agreement.

“His leather vest looked just like the ones you have on now.  Black, tooled leather with the reaper holding a coffin on the back.  Embroidered insignias on the front as well.”

“Did it have a nickname or rank?” Eddie stuffed a third piece of wintermint gum in his mouth while Steve lit another smoke.  The smell of the nicotine made Eddie’s hand twitch and his muscles ache.

Charlene shook her head after a moment of contemplation.  “He didn’t have a name on his cut, but Hawkins was the charter, I’m positive.”

Both men shared a look before Steve got to his feet.  “So you had your car stolen, what’s the big deal? Don’t you have like a hundred of them?”

Charlene shot him a look, reminding herself not to be a bitch. “That car belonged to my dad.  It was special. He’s the only person in this world who ever gave a shit about me.” She went to the bedside table to grab a half empty travel size bottle of Jameson and drank the rest.  “That’s why I kept it in storage. I couldn't take it with me, and I didn’t want to sell it.”

Eddie scratched the stubble on his chin, thinking about how he couldn’t wait to go home to crawl in bed with you and the cats. 

“How much is it worth?” Steve asked out of curiosity.

Charlene shrugged, leaning against the wall to cross her feet at the ankles. “Dunno what it would go for today.  Easily 300K.”

Eddie almost choked on his wad of gum thinking of what he could do with that much dough.  

Steve raised an eyebrow.  “You better hope this Nicky is stupid and greedy enough to sell it locally, or we might be shit out of luck.”

—-----

You felt Eddie slink in under the covers to spoon you early in the morning before dawn, but you were too tired to look at the clock or ask him how it went.  Charlie was curled up at your feet and Scully took her pregnant belly over to nestle behind Eddie’s knees and purr.  

He wasn’t in bed with you at quarter to 8 when you finally rose from sleep, and for a second, you thought maybe you’d only dreamed about him coming home, until you saw the note he’d left on the nightstand.  

Had to run again

Tell you everything later

Left the coffee on

Love you infinity, Eddie

The way he always signed his notes made you chuckle, as if anyone else would be leaving notes for you at the house.  You folded it up and tucked it into the shoebox in the closet where you stashed all of his notes to you.

After a half hour of letting yourself rejoin the living on a much-needed day off, you went up to the studio to stare at the two paintings you were working on, but your reverie was shattered when the phone rang.

Breathless, you answered to find that it was Robin.  The shrill wail of a screaming child sounded from somewhere in the background.  

“Is Steve there at your place?” She sounded rightfully flustered.

“No, um,” you looked around the kitchen as if maybe he was there, you just didn’t know it.  “Eddie was here but then he left again. They might be together?”

A thoughtful silence and then, “Steve never came home last night. We assumed he stayed at your place.”

You were shaking your head but then realized Steve could have slept in the living room and you wouldn’t have been the wiser.  You walked through the house to see if there was a blanket on the couch, but it was as tidy as you’d left it before bed.  

“Are you busy right now?” Robin continued, making the executive decision to worry about Steve’s whereabouts later.

That was a loaded question, and even though you had plenty to do, you knew that was Robin’s way of saying she needed help.  “Not…right this minute.”

“I hate to ask,” it was true, she really did hate to ask for help, but sometimes it was necessary.  “Could you come over here for an hour or so? Katie has teacher conferences, I have to go to the Hammer, and as you know, Steve is MIA…”

“Sure,” Mae let out another earth-cracking wail that made you fear for your life. “Be there in ten minutes.”

—------

Miser’s underground chop shop operated behind one of the oldest buildings in Hawkins; solid brick, using a mom-and-pop place to get an oil change as a front during the day, but at night, stolen cars were stripped for parts and/or sold on the black market.  The building was huge, and had once been a busy hotel and saloon, as it was near the train station.

Miser himself was short and muscular with a gray, handlebar mustache, a rodeo buckle from his old bareback days, and a cowboy hat.  He’d been a pillar of the community for decades, and one of the last few anyone would suspect of illegal activity.  

That morning, Eddie, Steve, Van, and Devlin rolled into the alley, passed the No Trespassing signs, and settled at the locked garage door. Miser’s Old Lady was one of the head Hells Belles named Jackal, and she came out of the back door with him.  A long ponytail of silver hair, she lit a smoke and gave the guys a tip of her chin.  

“That car you said to look out for? The white Jaguar?”

Eddie and Steve still had their sunglasses on, nodding once in unison his question. 

“The guy showed up an hour ago,” Jackal inclined her head, whispering. “He’s been here before. He’s with another crew that likes to scam older women and take their shit.”

Steve and Eddie exchanged a look with the other two members, palms itching to get their hands on him.

“I asked him about the Kings flash,” Jackal continued.  “He said he was from another charter, but he didn’t know who Bones was.”

Bones, President of the Coffin Kings Hawkins charter, was one of the first original 9 members of the MC when they first banded in the 60’s.  Every CK member from Indiana to California knew exactly who Bones was.

So, this guy Nick just made it to the top of their shit list.  

“This might get messy,” Eddie said to Miser.

“We got you,” Jackal confirmed, waving for them to follow her.  

At the far end of the building, a door opened, and a guy with slick black hair, wearing a Coffin Kings kutte stepped out.

“Shit, that’s him—” Miser hissed, reaching for the Ruger at his hip.

But it was too late, the guy saw them and bolted.

Steve cursed, letting out after him on foot alongside Jackal, while Eddie and the others pursued on their bikes.  

Around the next building, there was a car waiting for Nick—a plain white sedan—and even after Steve summoned his high school athlete days, he still couldn’t catch up.  Nick jumped in the passenger seat and the vehicle peeled out, throwing dust up into Steve’s face as his arms windmilled to a halt.   

“Fuck,” Steve took his sunglasses off and threw them to the gravel, nostrils flaring as he watched the vehicle flee.  

Miser sent a gunshot, aiming for the front tire, but missed as the car picked up speed.  

Eddie and the others continued on in hot pursuit, and Jackal motioned for Steve to get into her truck that was nearby: a lifted navy Bronco with monster tires.  Steve had to grip onto the side bar to heft himself up into it, and then she gunned it, skidding out of the parking lot.

The sedan led them on a wild chase over the railroad tracks, skirting the center of town to avoid the cops.  Eddie and Van made their way to the side of the vehicle and Van cracked the driver’s side window with the hilt of his knife, making them swerve.  The car dove into the nearby alfalfa field, going where they knew the motorcycles couldn’t follow.

But, Jackal’s Bronco was made for the mud.

“Hold on—” she warned Steve.

“I’m holding,” Steve said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed on the target in front of them, his fist tight on the grab handle above his head.  

The sedan almost got its back tire stuck in the ditch, but the Bronco bounced right through the muck like it was a paved road, tractor tread crawling along like a tank.  

While Steve and Jackal took a diagonal course through farmland, Eddie and the rest took the next side road, aiming to cut them off before they could hit the highway.

—-----

You were on your way to Robin’s when you caught sight of a white car being chased through a field by what looked like a monster truck from one of rallies at the coliseum.  

“What…the—-”

It was far enough away that you didn’t feel in danger, but you slowed down to see if you could understand what was happening.

But then three riders on motorcycles were headed in your direction at full tilt, so you pulled off to the side of the road to get out of their way, wondering if you knew any of them—-

“Eddie?” You squinted, wanting to be mistaken.

Indeed that was your boyfriend leading the pack.  

He saw you as they passed at lightning speed and picked up his hand in a wave.

You sat there for a while, watching the three of them disappear in your rearview mirror, clearly angling to beat whoever was driving their car through the crop rows.  

After a heavy sigh, you dropped your shoulders and kept on in the direction you were headed.

Three years ago, you would’ve freaked out and followed them.  But at that point in the relationship, such a scene was par for the course, and you knew it was best to stay out of it. 

—----

Up ahead was a sharp turn in the bend, and Devlin sped up to angle the sedan away from the street.  His approach clipped the bumper of the car, making it lose control, forcing it back into the ditch, but it also made his own bike go flying.  Thankfully he was thrown free before the hunk of metal landed on his leg, skidding across the gravel.

Jackal rode her tire up onto the back of the sedan, pinning it there as the two men inside fled.

Steve was on the ground so fast, he could barely find his feet.  His legs felt like that of a roadrunner in one of the cartoons, flying in circles.  

Eddie snagged the driver, throwing him into the dirt with a grunt, followed with a punch of his fist.  The driver was gangly, with a prison spider web tat on his elbow and dishwater blonde hair styled in a mullet.  

Nick climbed up onto the main road and bolted, until Jackal aimed and shot a bullet so close to his head, the heat grazed his ear.

That made him stutter to a halt, just in time for Steve to tackle him at the waist, putting him down hard on the pavement.  Van took Eddie’s place, putting his knee into the driver’s back, pinning him there while the rest went to deal with the Coffin Kings imposter.

No words were exchanged for a while, just Nick sputtering in pain while Eddie rolled him over to check his pockets.  

He found a wad of bills and waved it in Nick’s bloody face.

“C’mon man, that’s like 2 grand—-” Nick protested through a busted lip before Steve punched him again.

“Yeah, it’s real nice,” Eddie flashed a grin, standing to tuck the money in the top pocket of his leather.  “Take that thing off of him.”

Steve and Devlin got the leather vest off, making sure they hurt him in the process, and then Devlin put his boot on the guys belly to keep him there.

Eddie inspected the insignia’s, noticing there were no rank or name placards, and the material wasn’t even real leather.

Eddie gripped it in his fist.  “Where the fuck did you get this?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear,” Nick wiggled, grimacing at the weight of Devlin’s foot.  “Just let me go, okay?”

Steve bent down to lap the guys face with the back of his hand.  “He asked you a question.”

Nick looked like he’d rather vomit than tell the truth, but then Jackal stepped up and pointed her gun at him.

“Okay okay!” He squirmed.  “M-my mom made it for me, alright? For my birthday a few weeks ago.”

None of them had been expecting that, but they all made eye contact and snickered in disbelief; Eddie’s grin nearly split his face open right before his expression turned dark again.

“Tell your mom to come see us sometime, we’ll put her to work,” he joked.  “But you? You’re fucking done, do you understand—?”

Steve pulled Nick to his feet by his shirt and got in his face, jaw tense.  “I should kill you for what  you did to her.”

Eddie gave a sideway look, not expecting Steve to still have so much heat under his protectiveness for that woman.  Maybe that’s part of what having daughters did to a man.  

“B-b-but you’re not going to, right?”  Nick blubbered. “We’re cool?”

“We’re far from cool,” Steve pulled him close to whisper in his ear.  “I’ll be coming for you.”

And then Steve shoved him so that he tripped over his feet backwards and fell again.  

“You better run, cowboy,” Jackal shot a bullet into the ground at his feet, and he let out a high-pitched scream before taking off down the road on foot.  

“I see either of you again, you’re dead. Understand?” Eddie shouted after both of them as Van let go of his death grip on the driver.

The two were too scared to look back; too busy scurrying away as fast along the corn field to care about how stupid they looked.  

“Hey, War Machine,” Van brushed blonde hair away from his beard stubble. “Was that your girl we passed back there?”

Eddie checked over his shoulder in the direction of the farmhouse, wondering where you’d been headed, exhaling a long breath. “Yeah, it was.”

—-----

You only saw Robin in passing once you arrived at the house and parked behind the Airstream.  Oliver was at school, so it would be the three young girls with you and Astrid. 

The twins were on the floor in the living room, coloring, and you couldn’t get over how much Gracie looked like Steve.  Since they were fraternal, Rue resembled her sibling, but was also very different.  She had Astrid’s wild hair and a face that didn’t quite resemble either of their parents; Astrid said she was the spitting image of their grandmother, Evelyn.  

Astrid came around the corner cradling Mae in her arms with her mane of black hair back in a clip, and her eyes were puffy. 

“Please take her,” she groaned, handing over Mae into your arms with a sigh of relief.  “I can’t do this anymore.”

Mae had a pacifier in her mouth, but you could tell she was smiling up at you, lids droopy.  You began that automatic movement of rocking her in your arms.  You’d never been around many babies in your life, but the soothing gesture seemed to be ingrained in your dna.  

Astrid flopped heavily into the kitchen chair with a groan. “Did Robin tell you Steve never came home last night?”

“She did,” you bent to kiss Mae’s soft forehead. “Eddie came home late and left early, so Steve might’ve been with him, and I just didn’t know it.”

“It’s not like Steve to not leave a note or let me know somehow,” she started picking at an invisible thread on her peach dress that buttoned down the front. “Do you think he did anything with Charlene?”

You were shocked at the question, but your friend looked like she hadn’t slept in days and perhaps wasn’t processing thoughts at peak capacity.  

“Oh god no, Astrid,” Mae squirmed, kicking her strong little legs a few times in her Big Bird onesie, and you sat down in the chair next to Astrid. “Steve would never, and I think you know that. He’d cut his own hand off before he did anything as stupid as cheat on you.”

“Maybe,” she swallowed hard like she was trying to push down a sob. “We just…can’t seem to connect like we used to, and I’m just…just…”

She covered her face with both hands and cursed into her palms.  

“Hey,” you leaned forward with a free arm to rub soothing circles on her back.  “I’ll stay out here with the girls if you want to take a nap or something?  Slam some beers in the bathroom, whatever.”

Astrid chuckled a bit at that, sliding her hands down her face and into her lap. “Maybe I do need some sleep.”

From where you sat, you could see the twins on the floor in the next room with papers and crayons scattered about.  Just then, you noticed that Rue was headed in your direction, curls bouncing around her face.  

There was a tiny frown on her face, like she’d been concentrating, and she handed each of you a piece of lined notebook paper that had been ripped in half.

Apparently, she’d made some drawings, but before you could say anything, she was off again, determined to get back to her work.

“Thank you Rue, I love you,” you called after her.

“One is from meeee!” Gracie shouted.

“I love you too, Gracie,” you laughed, staring fondly down at the mess of colorful scribbles.

“They want to be like their big brother so bad,” Astrid had tears in her eyes, but for a different reason this time; she was so proud of her little family, so grateful to be a mother.

When you held the paper up to the light, you noticed that there was some writing on the back of it, so you turned it over.

My hot wife —

Slept in trailer, didn’t want to wake the girls

Can’t wait to kiss you again

I love you

S.

“Um, I think you should see this—” you passed the note to Astrid, and enjoyed watching the relief spread across her face as she read it.  

—------

A few hours later, Steve rolled up to Munson’s Garage in the Jaguar, after giving it a test run around the hills to enjoy how smooth it took corners.  He found Charlene already waiting there on a bench in the shade, talking with Wayne who wore a pair of light blue coveralls.

Wayne got to his feet while Steve pulled the sportscar up to the closest parking spot.

“Took you long enough,” Uncle barked at him, crossing his arms.  “Cab dropped her off an hour ago.”

He’d left the top down, so his hair was a mess, and he pushed his sunglasses up, eyeing the two.

“No, it’s fine,” Charlene shrugged, looking relaxed.  “I had good company.”  She had on a teal, halter top pant suit with matching heels, and she stuck out like a sore thumb.   

Steve put one booted foot up on the bench seat next to her.  “Yeahm, so, that guy Nick, he wasn’t—”

“I know,” Charlene reluctantly held her hand out to take the keys he was offering. “Eddie told me. I’d like to say I’ve learned my lesson, but probably not.”

“No woman deserves that,” Wayne said, giving Steve a pointed look. “I hope you boys took care of it.”

“We did,” Steve met his gaze, letting him know without words that the dude wouldn’t be hanging around Hawkins if he had a lick of sense.  

Wayne said a polite goodbye to Charlene before heading back to the shop. 

“You never mentioned how charming your uncle is,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

“Stay away from Wayne,” Steve grumbled, sitting down across from her.

“I didn’t mean—” she got flustered and then straightened.  “He reminds me of my dad, that’s all I meant.  Nothing nefarious.”

“Never can tell with you,” he muttered, fumbling to rip the wrapper off a soft pack of Camels with his teeth. He told himself he wouldn’t buy another pack, but he lied.

There was silence while Steve lit his smoke, all but for the sound of faint rock music and an electric drill from one of the garages.

“So,” she chanced. “I hear you have a big family now.”

“Yeah, what about ‘em?” He scowled at her after a hearty inhale.  

Charlene lifted both palms out as a sign of surrender.  “Forget it, I was going to say I’m happy for you.”

Steve snorted.  “You expect me to believe that, after all the shit you pulled, that you actually give a shit about anyone?”

She’d expected that, and she knew she deserved it.  

“I give a shit about you,” she muttered.  “I would’ve done anything for you.”

The sincerity confused him but then he pushed his shoulders back.  “I’ve got everything I ever wanted, and I won’t let anyone fuck with that. ‘Specially not you.”

“Understood,” she said, rubbing her magenta lips together with a nod. 

“I want you to be happy, though,” he softened his tone.  “I cared about you once, and that means I always will, no matter how much I wish that weren’t true.  I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“That’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she scoffed a self-deprecating laugh.

“That sucks,” Steve exhaled through his nostrils. “You’ve got a good heart, Charlene.  It’s just too bad you don’t know how to use it.”

A car pulled into the compound and at first, Steve didn’t pay much attention until he saw over his shoulder that it was you.

With Astrid and the girls.  

—-----

Eddie turned the radio up in the garage when Come and Get It by Judas Priest came on, and then wiped his hands on a red rag as he made his way to the office.  Although the finances at the Hammer and the garage were handled separately, he’d hired one accountant he trusted to take care of it all, and she’d just left a stack of paperwork for him to sign. 

On the wall behind the desk was a framed photo of the two of you together, hugging in the front doorway of the farmhouse the first day you’d moved in.  The flashback made his mouth twitch in a smile, as he had so many fond memories of those first couple weeks, back when there was nothing but a mattress on the floor and several leaks in the roof he had to control with various buckets.  It was just the two of you, making love and whispering about lifetimes of devotion.

He had a secret place in the metal file cabinet where he kept all of the notes you’d left in his lunch over the months, and he had this tugging need to look through them again just before he caught sight of your car coming through the open gate and into the compound.  Wayne was gone, but there on the picnic table sat Charlene and Steve, and before he could think too much about it, his feet were moving, wrenching the door open to make his way across the lot.

Steve jumped up when he saw you angling for a parking spot nearby.  Oh shit, Eddie realized you had Astrid and the girls with you, too.  The fact that they’d helped Charlene was no secret, but still, it made him feel uneasy with everyone about to converge in one spot. 

—------

“Please tell me that is not Charlene,” Astrid whispered, eyeing the profile of the woman sitting across from her husband.

“I’m afraid that is exactly who it is,” you muttered, suddenly feeling like maybe it wasn’t a great idea to bring the girls by to visit daddy at work. It had been a while, and you assumed she’d be gone by then.

But it was too late now.  You recognized the Jaguar parked nearby; it was the same one she brought in for Eddie to fix that first day you met.

All three girls were safely in car seats in the back, and when Astrid went to step out, Steve was right there, blocking her exit.

Funny enough, Eddie did the same, but on your side.  He was there so fast, you accidentally hit his leg with the door.

“What a sight for sore eyes,” he grinned, pulling you flush to him while tipping your chin up for a kiss.  

With lips still brushing together, you mumbled: “What the hell is she still doing here?”

And then through gritted teeth, Eddie responded: “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Steve went to grab for Astrid right away, hands at her hips, and she let him, but her attention was over his shoulder.  

“To what do I owe this pleasure, gorgeous?” He murmured, noticing that she’d put on some mascara and deep burgundy lipstick after not wearing makeup for months.  

Steve only shuffled back a few steps to allow her to shut the door, but then he continued to act as a barrier to keep her from going any further.  He bent down to knock on the back window, waving to the twins as Mae slept in the car seat between them.  Gracie shouted “daddy!” and held her hand out as if he could grab it through the glass. 

Steve glanced sideways at Eddie.  “So, should we all go get pizza or something? At that one place with the bouncy balls that the girls like? My treat.  If you head over there, we’ll meet you—-”

Eddie was close to telling his friend to shut the hell up, as it felt like his babbling was only making things worse. 

Astrid kissed his cheek.  “Please move out of my way, Steven.”

—----

Charlene stood up and took hold of the keys to head for the Jaguar.  She could tell by the looks you and Astrid were sharing that she’d managed to make things awkward, and more than anything, she felt embarrassed.  

But, she took a step away from the picnic bench just in time to see Steve’s twin daughters come bouncing out of the vehicle in matching Oshkosh overalls and her chest tightened—-oh god, one of them was the spitting image of Steve.

And why were the two tiny girls headed that way on their little wobbly legs as if they knew her?  

“Slow down, Rue!” Astrid called after them as Steve fumbled at getting the car seat out that had Mae inside.  

“She’s, um, she was just leaving,” Steve grunted, trying to move the apparatus out without waking the baby.  Astrid was already rushing to catch up with the girls, making each of them hold one of her hands.  

For some reason, Charlene was frozen.  Locking eyes with Gracie, knowing they were Steve’s hazel eyes, accumulated with the rest of her regrets like a punch to the gut.

Her deep dark secret was that she’d always wanted children of her own, but John refused.  

You and Eddie followed them over, albeit reluctantly.  If there were ever some serious conversation that needed to be had with Charlene, it certainly wouldn’t be done with the kids there, and so you weren’t at all sure what could possibly unfold.  

Although Charlene and Astrid had spent a very tense few moments together the night Craig was shot, they’d never shared more than a few words with each other.  Last night, when Steve got the page from Eddie, she’d known it was about Charlene before he even said a thing; she could feel her arriving in her bones like some might feel the impending threat of cold weather.  

Steve hurried to get between the two women and set the baby carrier on the picnic table.  Gracie was on her tiptoes with her arms up, begging him to put her on his shoulders, and so he did, and she took hold of his hair like a saddle horn.

“Glad we could meet under better circumstances,” Astrid said to Charlene, sincerely.

Eddie put his arm around your shoulder and you sank into him, wrapping both arms around his middle. You wished you could hide under his blue and black flannel so no one could see you.  

“You have a really beautiful family,” was all Charlene could think to say as she caught sight of Steve’s third daughter.

“Thank you,” Astrid replied, maintaining steady eye contact.

There were a few strained silences, and you could feel Eddie wanting to fill them, but suddenly he burst out with:

“Did you want to come by the Hammer and see what we’ve done with the place?” He chirped, rubbing your arm almost violently. 

Your whole body tensed at that, and you could see that it was the same physical response for Steve.  

“No, that’s…I’m good,” Charlene removed the Gucci sunglasses from the top of her head and put them over her eyes.  “There are several cargo crates of my things being sent to Hawaii right now, and I have a flight to catch.  But I’m sure you’ve done well with it.”

But it was Rue who broke the next silence.

She’d wandered a few yards over to the fence and back, carrying two bright yellow dandelions pinched between her fingers.

She was right there, blocking Charlene’s path to her car, arm outstretched to offer her one.

“For me?” Charlene was genuinely confused, and not accustomed to the wholesome kindness often displayed by children.  

Rue just nodded, tucking the other one behind her ear so that the bloom was at her cheek.

The rest of you exchanged a few baffled looks—all but Astrid, because she knew what was happening.  She knew then that her daughter carried the same gift she’d been born with; the gift of intuitive sight.  Even at her young age, Rue could read people and their intentions, and she knew that Charlene was no longer a threat to them.  She knew that everyone in that parking lot deserved healing and forgiveness. 

“Like this?” Charlene put the flower in her hair the same way with tentative fingers, and Rue nodded again, moving around the woman to walk back over to her family.

Astrid scooped Rue up into her arms.

Charlene took one last look over at the group as she drove out of the compound, seeing the way you all smiled at each other, continuing on with conversation as if she’d never been there. You were all visibly relieved to no longer be sharing space with her, but Rue had been able to see her with fresh eyes, without all of the pain and suffering she’d inflicted on others and on herself.  There’d been no judgment or weariness in that child’s eyes; just curiosity and love. It gave her a bit of hope that maybe she could…start over.  Maybe she’d fall in love again with a guy who wasn’t Steve, maybe she’d adopt a child of her own one day, or maybe…she’d get a dog and call it a day.  

—------

A few days later, you couldn’t find Scully, and the two of you fell into panic mode.

“Did you let her out?” Eddie snapped.  “You know we need to keep her inside this close to the due date.”

Eddie was a mess. Granted, you were upset too, but he was ready to tear the whole house apart looking for her, and then some.  You couldn’t help but smile to yourself seeing how devoted he was to this once stray cat.  Some nights he even made room between the two of you so that Scully could sleep in the middle.

But finally, a soft mewing from the closet alerted you to the fact that she’d tucked herself away in the dark to have her babies.  

“Honey, come look,” you whispered down the hall to him.

There she was, snuggled back in the corner in a box of old sweatshirts, nursing four tiny baby kittens.  She had one more a half hour later to make the final count five.  Two black, one gray, one black and white, and one orange striper.

“Daddy must’ve been an orange guy, hey my darling?” He hummed a conversation to Scully as you picked them all up to put down some fresh blankets, making sure she had food and water nearby.  

“What should we name them?” Eddie asked as you both sat in the doorway, watching them nuzzle together for sleep.

“I think we should let Oliver name the orange little girl, since I know that’s the one he’ll pick,” you whispered, to which Eddie agreed.  “Maybe I’ll name the gray one Keanu,” you said, mostly joking, but Eddie didn’t seem bothered.  As soon as it was possible, Scully would be back at the vet to get fixed, but you were grateful to have this experience with him.

“Can I name the black ones Dio and Vecna?”  He asked, hopefully.

“What kind of a name is Vecna?” You wrinkled your nose.  “Should we call him Vicky for short?”

“The black and white looks like a Leia,” he continued, eyes sparkling.  

“Leia is a good name,” you hummed, putting your cheek on his shoulder. 

You moved Scully and her box of babies into your bedroom so that she would be closer if she needed anything, but then in the middle of the night, she moved the kittens back to the same spot in the guest bedroom closet, so then that is where you let her stay.  

Later that night, you were in the kitchen cleaning up before bed, when you heard Eddie singing a song under his breath in the next room:

“Hey little girl is your daddy home, did he go and leave you all alone…”

You thought you recognized it as you scrubbed a dish, eyes darting to the window to watch two motorcycles zoom by on the dark highway in the distance.

“I got a bad desire…”

On the refrigerator behind you, secured by magnets, were photo snapshots of the two of you with Steve and Astrid, Robin and Katie, Gracie, Rue and one of Mae when she was first born.  There was one of Wayne twenty years ago, standing with Taz and War Machine as two gangly teenagers.  There was a long strip from a photo booth at the fair with you, Eddie, and Oliver all making faces for the camera.  

“Tell me now, baby, is he good to you

Can he do to you the things that I do? I can take you higher…”

He’d been folding the blanket on the couch and blowing out candles, but then he was on his way to  you as the mumbled lyrics got clearer:

“Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull

And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull…”

You finished what you were doing, but then you stayed still, feeling him come up behind.  

“At night, I wake up with the sheets soaking wet

And a freight train running through the middle of my head…”

You leaned back, letting yourself be caged in his embrace; his head dipping to kiss your neck.  You thought about that day on the side of the road when he picked you up in the tow truck, and how it didn’t feel like you were meeting for the first time but more, coming back together after a lifetime apart.  

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear.  “Only you can cool my desire…”

After that first kiss years ago,  you knew there would never be another option for you; Eddie Munson was endgame.  Having tasted true love once in your life, you felt like you could die happy.

But not until you rode the highway of life for a long, long time.  Even at the end, you’d still be holding on tight.

“...Oh oh oh I’m on Fire…”

—------

The Epilogue of an Epilogue

“Yo, Steve. Package for you.”

It was Thumper, working the door at the Velvet Hammer for what promised to be a wild Friday night. Max ended up showing interest in the Assistant Manager position, after deciding that long haul trucking was taking a toll on her need to start a family, and Robin couldn’t hire her fast enough. Jeff also came on as a part-time bartender, leaving you pleasantly surprised and wondering what other skill sets he had up his sleeve.  

Steve had just come through the door to ask Shana for a cup of coffee when the crumpled brown piece of mail flew at his chest.  He caught it, but took the time to throw Thumper a dirty look.  

“Ease up, boss,” the burly biker grumbled through a huge grin.  “Since when do you have a penpal in Hawaii?”

He stopped in his tracks at that, afraid to look down.  Afraid to open it, even.  Steve’s newest ink—-Mae’s name on the back of his hand—-glistened from the recent layer of Aquaphor.

He asked for his coffee with a pound of sugar and sat at the end of the bar, frowning.

The return address was a P.O. box in Honolulu without a name, but he didn’t even have to wonder.  He was sure he could smell the Chanel through the packaging.

Inside was a ring of keys.

Car keys, clearly, but it took him a second to understand what they belonged to and why they looked so familiar in his hand.

There was also a note:

These are the keys to the Jaguar.  It’s parked in a secure garage at the airport, instructions also enclosed.

Every time I drive it, I get myself in trouble. Hopefully you will have better luck, or maybe Rue can have it when she gets older. 

The dandelion was a fair trade.  

C.

—----

I have so much to say, so much love to give to you all, and I hope you can feel it through the words. I'm so deeply grateful for each one of you and this experience. Whether you have left comments, reblogs, thoughtful asks, or edits, I remember you and you are special to me. I would give anything to meet up at the Velvet Hammer for cocktails (and/or tea, of course) but here are a few in particular I'd like to thank:

Huge thank you to @cryptidcurio for being the initial inspiration for this fic in the first place, and for always feeding me the best ideas. Some of the most popular scenes in this series are from her. Our biker Eddie and biker Steve talks seem to have somehow gotten us through the past hellish year, I love you. I'm so grateful for @texasblues and all of our chats about Steve, Astrid, Wayne, and the girls. Truly, the only reason Astrid and Steve are so perfect is because of Jennie and our brainstorming. We chat a lot about what Rue, Gracie, and Mae will be like when they are older, and hopefully we'll have a few blurbs about that someday. Also, I highly recommend her Steve & Astrid writings HERE My beautiful friend @dandelionnfluff decided to do a bind of I'm on Fire for their personal use and I am still choked up about how much work they put in and how gorgeous it is. You can see their amazing work here: book bind

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[jahtrashh]

I saw your take on Zuko and like I agree so much. this fandom either idolises him or hates him and I always found that sooo weird. same goes with characters like Jet who are somehow treated like perfectly functioning adults by the fandom and held accountable of their actions as if they were grown men. and that’s so freaking weird. the point of Zuko’s redemption arc is that his arc isn’t linear, he makes mistakes, learns from it, makes up for it. as for Jet, although not a big fan of the way the writers handled his death, he’s literally being seen as an unredeemable monster, as if worse that characters like OZAI OR ZHAO by many fans and… just… how ?? why ?? they are both 16 ?? like yeah, they did so much bad stuff, they did really messed up stuff but they are also quite literally products of their environment and a freaking 100 years war. how is Zuko, fed with propaganda, on a ship since he’s 13, with a freaking general as his only paternal figure at that time, surrounded by men twice his age who are also either soldiers or at least army related, and still 16 at the time, suppose to be a “nice guy” archetype that does nothing wrong. like please be for real one second. and don’t get me started on Jet. whole village burned to the ground, orphan, had to raise so many kids, probably grew up in extreme poverty. ofc he’s messed up. ofc he’s violent, blinded by rage. but again, 16 !!! HE’S 16 !! it kills how people don’t realise that teenagers (especially teenage boys) are anything but mature, collected and emotionally rational. like bfr.

but in the atla fandom ig saying this would make me a zuko/jet apologist. whatever that means. as an adult i just see a bunch of messed up kids in the middle of the war, and that’s basically it. at best i feel bad for them, at worst i pity them.

Say it louder for the people in the back. I don’t know how to dumb it down enough for people to wrap their damn head around how these are in fact, also, teenagers involved in war. The world is in shambles during war, right and wrong are easily blurred during those times, and it takes a very special person to be able to differentiate between the sides without getting too caught up in what they believe is right or wrong.

Zuko could’ve stayed a racist, imperialist, dipshit. But by the end of the show, he turns into just a simple dipshit who accepted his life changing 180 with open arms. Yes he said some insensitive shit to aang about his beliefs and mocked his anti-violent views even when he joined them in season 3, but AGAIN, not only was he still learning how to be a decent human being, he was also blinded by his own hatred of his father, mixed with the very much pro-violent nature of the fire nation, PLUS the lack of education on Aang’s culture and philosophy which was AGAIN, taught around PRO-PA-GAN-DA the FN created. All of which, takes time to unlearn. On top of figuring himself and who he was, which is what most teenagers, more often than not will have a whole crisis about ALONE. I honestly don’t know how people expect a redemption arc to go, we’ve all had to learn how to be better about things, and the progress isn’t going to be liner nor will it always be easy. That is human nature. That is LIFE.

And on Jet’s case, why do people think it’s such a terrible thing to make some characters who were victims of war crimes, to be angry, to lust for revenge against the perpetrators, or be irrational and violent. THEY HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO. The FN took the last bit of Jet’s life that he barely even had and stripped all of that completely away from him like the savages that they are. Why is it a terrible thing to be angry at people who didn’t think twice about the families, the sense of community that his village had? I agree that Jet was going too far when he was trying to take it out on innocent people, but can you really blame him? He didn’t have an adult to help him out on the importance of emotional maturity and how to be angry at the ones who actually harmed you like Zuko did, and even if he did, teenagers won’t be emotionally matured TRULY until they develop into adults. He had to be the mock adult for the kids younger than him, he didn’t have time to decode himself and better his actions because he was too focused on protecting the freedom fighters and himself against the FN’s abuses.

People don’t realize that this is not babying them, or being so called “apologists” this is called understanding why these two are the way that they are. Why are they like this? And it’s so much to take in and talk about at once that you’d need an entire college level essay to completely break down and comprehend how deep war can affect not just adults, but teenagers and children. Those two groups don’t have true moral compasses, so the environment and circumstances can really impact and easily mold their minds to fit the standards in said situation in order to survive it. This is called self-preservation. A more than common trauma response.

I mean seriously, I heard someone say they can understand Zuko hate but not Iroh hate, when he has in fact, done much worse than Zuko has ever done in those 3 years at sea. I love Iroh, but he’s an adult, why are we choosing adults over traumatized and war-fed teenagers who mainly comply in that shit to seek approval from their actually psychotic, genocidal, narcissistic, and abusive father that would dispose of them if they didn’t fit his standards? Why are we quicker to blame the teenagedvictim of the FN’s attacks and cruelty, than the actual people, adults, who conducted the attacks?

Are we truly regressing as a fandom? The show wouldn’t give them their traumatic experiences and talk about their abusers if they wanted the viewer to antagonize the victims. Goes to show that the loudest voices screaming “irredeemable monster” and “they want people to feel sorry for him” never truly know who these characters are and how they operate, they need everything spoon fed to them which is very unfortunate. The real irredeemable monsters are right there in their face and they choose to look somewhere else.

It’s so obvious how people in this fandom pick and choose who to feel sympathy for, when they all needed it.

[luckykiwiii101]

Not an ask because you act so immature to take seriously.Honestly,I never judge people for their ages but you are literally crazy and the way you answer questions looks like you think you are someone so busy,popular blah blah.Kid,Now i don't even believe you really entered to the void state,I know it is so easy but you don't even know how to answer simple questions.You keep saying the same things or blame people for stealing your time.You have to delete the app or take down that ask button shit,aren't you here to help people? Maybe they scrolled down in your acc but did not see the question that is similar to theirs and decided to ask.You can ignore that question or link the previous ask as an answer,stop acting immature.

I did notice this and it’s on purpose. I’m not a rude person. Thank you for holding me at account though. I have already tried being nice so many times and all that has earned me was just even MORE disrespect 😭 Of course i am very kind in real life but talking to people online is just on a whole nother level. These people get to hide behind screens and just disrespect anyone they want and to hell if you think i’m gonna let that happen to me. I’ve literally been on this app for not even 2 months. + I am a busy person so i really don’t appreciate you saying “you think you are someone so busy, popular”. I think that you forgot i actually have a life outside of tumblr. Do you realise that i get like 50+ asks a day, all along the lines of the same question. I’ve answered them many times and these people NEVER read my answers to the previous asks. They just spam and spam and spam to their hearts content. Treating me like some AI robot.

“You tell them to delete the app” Bro…i told a liar to get off the app. a LIAR. Someone who gets peoples hopes up. Literally destroying their faith in the void state. It’s because of these liars that people give up and think everyone on this app is lying. So ofcourse i’m going to tell them to delete the app for other people’s sake. People don’t deserve to believe that they can’t manifest their dream life just because of some internet troll roaming tumblr. I am not sorry for telling them to get off the app.

“Maybe they scrolled down your acc and did not see the question similar.”

It’s not difficult to find at all. I understand if it’s a genuine question that is hard to find the answer to but these people are literally asking me how to apply a state. There are 1000000 posts on how to apply states and they’re seriously asking me?!?! I’m sorry but what? They are too lazy to do research. Don’t expect me to answer the dumbest questions. Honestly.

“You don’t even know how to answer simple questions”

I shouldn’t have to answer such simple questions…what is your point exactly? They are simple questions, therefore meaning plenty of people have provided answers for them over and over again and you just want me to repeat it like a broken record everytime you want me to.

“Now i don’t believe you’ve entered the void state.”

Sorry but that’s not my problem. I haven’t created this blog to convince people of my success, i’ve created this blog to help people achieve their own success.

“You keep saying the same stuff and blaming people for stealing your time.”

Exactly. I KNOW i keep saying the same stuff because i get asked the SAME questions everyday, therefore WASTING my time. Thank you for acknowledging that.

“You can link the previous question with a link.”

That takes twice the amount of time. You STILL expect me to respond…for what? Am i your mom? I’m not babying grown adults on this app.

“You act so immature to take seriously.”

Then don’t look at my posts…? + Don’t provoke people then act surprised when they get mad.

“I never judge people for their ages but you are literally crazy.”

You say, as you judge someone for their age. Anyway i know i’m 15, and that adds to my point. The fact that i’m still in school and stress a lot about exams and people add more stress onto me by asking me 100000 questions of the same questions, or really obvious questions a day.

“Stop acting immature”

Not to take my own side but…people not doing simple quick and easy research is also immature. Me getting frustrated and calling them out is just a product of that. I do admit that i was mean to them, but that’s what it took for them to leave me alone, so i’m not going to apologise. When i was nice to the lazy people online, it got me nowhere.

(Not to stir drama everyone! Just to clear the air).

[mksbigg3stfan]

so umm umm you know, when you have free time ummm RADESSE /explode

i need opinions, the only ones i see are extremely neutral or simple hate cough cough, i would love to read what you think moot!!

Of course, sure thing !!

Radar x Jesse

Kind of unusual ship, I haven't seen much content of it. If I'm being honest, I didn't know it was a ship until I saw your blog! If Radesse were to have a food comparison like the other ships, I'd say it's some kind of rare fruit, like cherimoya or something, because of how unusual it is. Not bad, just unusual. (Apparently they taste super good!!)

I can say that you seem to characterize Radar pretty well! People in the MCSM fandom seem to sort of ... infantalize (?) And kind of baby Radar even though he's a grown adult. One that has tattoos and has had multiple jobs before ... So I'd say a lot of the hate for the ship (and any ship with Radar) comes from the infantalization of him, which makes people think of him as a younger, more impressionable, "must be protected character." Which doesn't really make sense. Radar hates being talked down to, and he probably wouldn't appreciate being treated like a kid when he's an independent adult.

Besides that, Radar had never considered himself an adventurous person. He's always loved hearing legends, admiring heroes and foes from afar. But when he follows Jesse, Radar discovers his talent with long-range weapons and that he is much stronger than he thinks. By the end of MCSM, Radar has grown into himself much more and is a lot more confident, plus less anxious.

You honestly make super cute Radesse art, and I love your Lapis Lazuli Au !! (jwjejrnanns) Honestly, it's kind of cute how in your AU they settle down together in the future, and Lapis is really cute! Domestic fluffy stuff is always adorable in my opinion, and your art is so warm and bright that it makes every piece feel inviting and like a piece into the little world you made for after MCSM ends.

Jesse is good at cooperating with people, and they are a really inviting, helpful person. I see Jesse as a more adventurous, can't stay down person, but I like how you portrayed them as more of a like, "I've travelled the sntire world, and had 1000s of adventures and quests, so now I'm ready to settle down (except I'm like 30-35)." It kinds of reminds me of how Jack and Nurm settled down together.

Overall, I think your Radesse is really cute! But, like all ships, it has a few flaws. Not that it isn't cute! In game, if you take too long to make a choice when talking to Radar, Jesse defaults to a pretty cold response. There's also the issue with the idolization of Jesse Radar has going on. It's kind of unhealthy for him and Jesse, especially when it makes Jesse uncomfortable.

Besides that, I think Radesse is just something that couldn't happen during in-game time. It would have to take place after MCSM ends, and Radar gets over his idolization of Jesse and starts seeing them as just a person that he admires. (Also, Jesse's thirst for adventure dying down.) After a year or two, maybe more, I think I can see where you're coming from onJesse coming back and settling down, and them slowburning into admiring each other. Like Jesse admiring the confidence Radar has grown, and how he's taken care of Beacontown, and Radar finding Jesse themself admirable, not their heroic deeds. But, I just think again, it's a ship that would need to happen after MCSM ends to make sense.

I don't really ship Radesse or hate it, so I don't have a super strong opinion on how their relationship should be. (Maybe besides it having to happen after the game ends if it happens lol) But, if it happens after game, I'd say it would be slightly toxic at first, but they'd probably find their place. In game run time though, I can't really see it happening.

In its defense, it definitely isn't a proship or just something that totally doesn't make sense like ... idk, Jesse x witherstorm ??? And people seem to hate it very much, but there's nothing like, inherently problematic about it, it seems like? Anyways, keep making your Lapis Lazuli au and the Radesse because tbh it's really cute !! ( ´∀｀ )b

[kanmom51]

I think I had wishful thinking with how this whole Jk thing would be handled. It’s showing me that a lot of ARMY still forget that our boys are human. I understand having strong feelings towards certain habits due to a multitude of reasons but seeing people question his character is wild to me. Yoongi talked in his documentary about this very thing. Things being blown out of proportion that genuinely in the scheme of things don’t need to be. Our boys have shown us they drink heavily, something that is also harmful but it seems that doesn’t get as much hate as smoking. They are grown men who will do and have habits that aren’t great but as of what we know don’t change who they are. Jk is still our goofy silly guy that we love. I’ll get personal for a second I’m also a singer and used to be a heavy smoker of 🌱, I stopped eventually because I knew long run it wouldn’t be great for my voice but so many singers do it. Now what he seems to be smoking is obviously not healthy but he chooses to do it cuz he likes it and wants to. Of course we want them to be healthy and take care of themselves but again they are grown. I really feel for K-pop idols because it seems there is no way to win. The idol system in a sense sets them up to “fail”. More people upset with him smoking then him being filmed without his permission. Western pop stars are out here doing some wild stuff and no one holds it against them. I feel for them really I do. Again I get that it can be hard for people if they have their own experience with smoking. I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am with the reaction I guess but after how he has been so open on his Weverse lives about being an adult and living his life the way he wants, who are we to say no you can’t do that because we don’t like it.

I agree!!!

Anything else I have to add? I really don't know, cause you kind of said it all @leearmy.

Do I love he's smoking? Hell no. Like I wouldn't love for one of my girls to. It's bad for your health. It's not great for his voice. I lost my mom to lung cancer so it's a little of a sore spot for me.

But at the end of the day, he's a grown up and it's his decision, his life to live.

So, not loving it, but no judging going on. These are my demons to deal with, nothing to do with JK or his choices.

I do have to say that I don't love the glorification of it either. JK is sexy. Period. No need for a cigarette in his mouth to make him that.

I just wish people would accept this is something he does and move on without the ugly or sexy talk going on.

Either way, this is still JK. Smoking or not smoking doesn't make him a good or bad person. It's a lifestyle choice he's making. Nothing illegal going on. Nothing hurtful to others. And as such it's in the "people need to mind their own business" category.

This is most definitley being blown out of proportion. As if we have any say about their private lives in any way shape or form (we most definitely don't).

Like you said, it's still JK, the sweet kind goofie young man that we love.

Plain and simple.

[cozymoko]

Hi! I just found your blog, and I love your stuff♡♡ Could I ask for domestic headcanons for the mukami family? As in how would living with them (separately) be as their partner. Thank you!

DOMESTIC HCS W/ MUKAMI BROTHERS

Note: Hello~! I've been seeing you all over my feed lol, I'm glad you like it. I'm making them married if that's okay. Enjoy! (ﾟ▽＾*)☆

Pairing: Domestic! Mukami brothers x gn! reader

Format: Headcanons

WARNING(S): none

Want more Diabolik lovers? → Masterlist! ★

RUKI MUKAMI

It's almost like you're living with a prince. So perfect, not skipping a beat when it's time to assist you, (on a good day). One would think he's a mind reader with the way he reads you. It's as though you are a book brimming with such unimaginable intricacy, one he has studied word for word until it's engraved in the depths of his memory.

If he wanted to he could take care of all the household chores within a sheer blink of an eye. But what's the fun in that? Ruki cares for you, however, he will not do your chores for you.

As adults, the two of you have several things to tend to throughout the day but there's no excuse for falling behind on house maintenance. So unless you are on the brink of collapsing or he grows weary of watching you struggle, it's best not to anticipate too much from him, Geez, what a clean freak!

"You look rather tired this evening. Are you overworking yourself? Do not lie to me, this will only make it harder for not just you but me as well."

KOU MUKAMI

Your living situation is a secret between the two of you. Now being away from that secluded manor, he'd hate it if his new home was bombarded by paparazzi and deranged fans.

Kou isn't the greatest at cooking but he'll try his best. After living under the same roof as Ruki and Yuma, the skills he can provide are just as worthless as you'd think: Very. They made everything for him. And don't get me started on his cleaning...

The man's a sucker for surprises, no matter how big or small. It could be as simple as completing his portion of the chores or preparing a warm meal for him to come home to. It makes his heart race. Fret not because in this world the things you bestow upon others are bound to return to you.

"Hehe, you made all this for me? Wah~, I really am the luckiest man alive. Don't worry honey, I'll be sure to return the favor very soon~!"

YUMA MUKAMI

Upon the moment you moved in, Yuma had grown more protective of you. If you hadn't known any better, you'd think he's your shadow. A very large, imposing one, to say the least. Yuma fears that you'll injure yourself whenever you leave his sight, hence why he tends to hover over you quite often. At times like these, he reminds you of a mother with his seemingly endless nagging.

Yuma would be the perfect housewife — "house husband" for better wording. He can cook, clean, and is pleasant to be around the more you get to know him.

Life with Yuma is a whirlpool of emotions within itself as you never knew what was to come of you. Gardening alongside the man you cherished, lazing around 'til your heart's content, spending several late nights baking for the pleasure of it. You've done it all, it seems. But you know this is solely the beginning.

"Oi, sow, don't cut the fruit like that damn it. Are you tryna' hurt yourself or somethin'? Pfft, I wouldn't put it past ya'."

AZUSA MUKAMI

You may as well call him your "number one supporter" because ultimately that's all he's good at. Azusa does his best to aid you in your day-to-day tasks even if he's not up to par. Yet somehow his efforts were helpful in their own ways.

He is a great listener if you need him to be. After a long day of work, stressed and exhausted. what could be more tempting than a listening ear? Scream at the top of your lungs about all the things you dislike; kick and scream about your boss's irksome behavior. (Kick him, we all know he'd like it.)

Azusa is up your ass every waking moment. Whether you're cooking or even showering, he will be there. With cold hands lingering along the line of your waist, bodies pressed flush against one another. It will never be enough to soothe his shivering heart, which longed for you when you aren't near. It's unfortunate, truly.

"I missed you...so much...I hate when you leave me to go to work....just...stay, can't you? I promise...It'll be a lot of....fun..."

[wickjump]

idk if you already talked about this but what are your opinions on dreammare? Or swadmare (Fontcest for example)

(ps- I don't ship any of these)

-🇩🇪 anon

IM SO SORRY i went on a tangent german anon… ik you don’t ship these im just rambling,, no harm to u

i think incest is bad and weird and even in fiction its still gross and when portrayed as another cutesy normal ship it desensitizes people, especially younger audiences, to those subjects and can in fact make them ship it as well.

if you post dreammare art religiously, some 11yo is gonna see it, think it’s cute and ship it themselves. and then bam your weird fetish became some child’s unknowing process into a community surrounding the normalization of being sexually aroused by the rape of characters or fictional children being assaulted by adult characters. that 11yo who entered the community, who make a lot of content of their new favorite ship, will become even more desensitized to pedophillia, incest, and rape in fiction.

believe it or not, this does in fact affect reality. if all that goddamn kid sees is grown adults talking about how sexy it would be if this character was raped by a relative, that child might not feel anything is wrong with the way their uncle grabs their waist because that’s sexy, right? they may even begin having a misplaced crush. or how their older brother asks to practice kissing with them. that’s what everyone online ships and thinks is cute, and that child thinks it’s cute in art, so they don’t think anything is wrong with this.

and this is probably the most simple way of explaining it. that’s not touching on how the proship community makes people angry by promoting an us vs them mentality. “people against proshippers are puritans!” “anyone against proship is an anti, and they’re terrible people who will dox and harass anyone!” (don’t believe me? i got an ask just like this ~1 week ago lmfao)

guess what? that kid will see that and believe it. if someone tries to say what they’re participating in is weird, they’ll register that person as an anti and refuse any help. that kid will be pushed further into the community and grow up on the internet alongside it.

this isn’t my exact story, but i know this because i was basically that kid. i started consuming frans content at age ~11 (a victim of SA btw), which then developed into shipping other unsavory things, which then developed into participating in the proship community (around 2020/2019? the time when it got an established and popular name for itself). and then im fifteen years old and willing to date adults on the internet LMFAOOOOO. not fun. I don’t think this kind of shit should even be given the time of day especially on my page but i also feel like someone sending this kind of question irks me as though there was a possibility i’d say yes to liking it or whatever. also:

“What about the adults in the pro community that say they don’t support that kind of stuff?” the creator of saw probably doesn’t condone murder but if a 7yo watched it every day of his life he’d probably react a lot less to gore. a warning (which is scarcely added, when’s the last time you saw someone clarify they didn’t support incest while posting dreammare?) won’t discourage anyone. it’s still sexualized, it’s still made to appeal to an audience. that goes in one ear out the other very easily.

“What about adult only spaces in the pro community?” ignoring the fact that the proship community is mostly public on all platforms and has no way to block out minors from seeing any of their shit, kids also lie about their age.

“Then it’s the kid’s fault for lying about their age!” that is a pre-pubescent child. they will do stupid things without realizing the gravity of it all especially when being influenced by older people

I wont answer any other asks regarding if i support/don’t support proship content or ships, bc i don’t and now that i’ve given it my most descriptive and detailed reasoning for why i don’t see a reason to give other things like this another detailed response lolll

sorry german anon i know you weren’t expecting this kind of a response 😭😭😭 i just get tired of stuff like this really quickly + people like to put words in my mouth it seems. when you include your trauma with the subject pros seem to quiet down real nicely when faced with the reality of what they’re doing, which is why ive not gotten many asks from them before and very very very few harassment ones. SORRY AGAIN THOUGH!!! have a good night 🙏

tldr:

no i don’t like incest.

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington - Chapter 7

fireman!Steve x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

Steve struggles watching his girl pave her way to a bright future. Will he be able to stand by her side? Or will he let his mind drown him in doubt?

warnings | 18+ SMUT, dubcon, rough sex, degradation, use of safe word, serious angst, alcoholism, y'all been warned

a/n | there's no two ways about it, this one is rough, heavy on the angst, light on everything else, thus is life with toxic steve

...................

She hasn’t felt this nervous in a long time. She looks at her reflection in the full length mirror of the hotel room, smoothing her palms down her dark green dress. It’s the most grown-up thing she’s ever worn, she had bought it just two weeks ago from a secondhand shop, a vintage fit and flare wrap that stopped at her shins, simple black heels on her feet. She needed to look adult tonight, professional, but dressy. The neuroscience department at her school was throwing its annual holiday banquet at one of the fancy hotels in the city, and she had been invited amongst a small number of other students. The faculty only invited those at the top of the class, and she knew it was a huge compliment, and also a huge opportunity. It’d be a chance to talk to the heads of the doctorate program at Indiana University, a golden ticket that she wanted badly. Needless to say, she was a tangle of nerves getting ready to head down to dinner. 

“Holy shit.” She’s broken out of her swimming mind by Steve’s breathy words, turning around to see him leaning against the bathroom door frame. She has to take a sharp inhale to stop herself from letting out her own curse at the sight of him. He’s wearing a perfectly fitted black suit, crisp white shirt underneath and a tie hanging undone around his neck. She’s never seen him cleaned up so nice. Her eyes finally flit up to his face, seeing the slack expression as he takes her in. She blushes under his hungry gaze, quickly moving over to him and getting to work on his tie. He rests his palms on her waist, dipping slightly to squeeze at the softness of her hips. 

“Thank you– you look so fucking beautiful right now.” She finishes doing his tie, smoothing her palm down the length of it before finally looking back up at him. His eyes are practically melting at the sight of her, all soft and sweet. She leans up to plant a quick kiss to his lips.

“You’re welcome, handsome. God– I just feel nervous.” She chews at her bottom lip, brow creasing as she looks at him. Steve is quick to bring his palm up to her jaw, thumb lightly coaxing her deep frown away.

“Don’t be, huh? Already know you’re gonna be the smartest one in the room, honey. Nothing to worry about.” She snorts, shaking her head lightly.

“I doubt that. But, thank you, Stevie. I guess we should probably head down.” He nods, stealing one more kiss from her before resting his hand on her low back as they head out.

“I’ve got you, baby. Be right beside you.”

…

Steve is out of his fucking depth, and he realizes it very quickly once they get down to the banquet hall. First of all, he hasn’t worn a suit in years, the only reason he has this one is because his mom sent it to him to wear to his grandma’s funeral three years ago. He’s just lucky it still fits. Second of all, the instant they walk in, people are on her. It’s clear she’s golden to these people, a top student with promising prospects, and while Steve wants to only feel proud of her, he can’t help but feel frustrated by how he has no goddamn clue what they’re talking about. Phrases are getting thrown around like “ischemic infarction” and “diffusion tensor imaging” and “ideomotor apraxia” like these are things normal people talk about. But it’s clear that it is stuff she normally talks about by how easily she can work the conversation with these eggheads. 

Meanwhile, everytime she introduces him to another colleague of hers, Steve gets a little more tense under his shirt collar. He can see the question on their faces when she tells them what he does for a living, a look that says why the hell is she with him? As the night continues and all he can do is smile and nod, pretending to understand what they’re talking about, Steve starts to wonder the same thing.

Ever since Thanksgiving, Steve has been trying hard to be better for her. He even started seeing a shrink at the VA center once a week, something that he still thinks is useless, but he really likes the proud look she gets when he tells her he has another appointment. He stopped drinking, at the therapist’s behest, and hadn’t had even a glass of wine since November, but he’d be hard pressed to admit that it really has been calming down his headaches. He’s trying everything he can to keep her, but tonight, he’s never felt so close to losing her as he watches her shmooze out a path for her future. Steve excuses himself from her side, and while she shoots him a questioning look, she’s quickly folded back into a conversation about something called transcortical sensory aphasia. He sulks over to the bar, and for the first time in a month, he orders a drink.

…

She only catches a glimpse of Steve out of the corner of her eye, her stomach drops when she sees that he’s at the bar. She nearly excuses herself from the small group that’s collected around her, but just then someone blocks her view of Steve. The man is tall, in a smart, navy-blue suit, dark curly hair and a crooked grin as he holds out his hand to her. 

“So you must be the one everybody’s talking about. Pleasure to finally meet you, I’m Thomas Klein. I’m one of the–” She cuts him off, eyes wide.

“Oh! I know who you are. You’re the doctoral candidate doing research with Professor Malcolm– it’s fascinating stuff you’re working on, really.” She’s completely embarrassed by her outburst, but the man seems to take it in stride, raising an eyebrow at her and smiling. The truth was, everyone in the department was talking about Thomas and his groundbreaking work looking at language circuitry. He was sure to be published by the end of the year and receive his degree in one fell swoop. He was practically a celebrity amongst the neuro students.

“Well, I’m flattered that the golden girl of the neuro department has heard of me. And I’m not only a doctoral candidate, you know. I also happen to be on the admissions board for the graduate program.” She smiled brightly, shaking his hand back.

“I wasn’t aware of that, congratulations, that’s a huge responsibility I’m sure.” She absolutely had been aware of it, and had been hoping to talk to this man tonight in fact. But he didn’t need to know that. 

“It certainly is. But students like you make my job easy.” Her heart jumps in her throat at his words. She had applied to several graduate programs, but she wanted so badly to stay at IU to continue her studies. She told herself it was because the supervising professors were doing research in the areas she was interested in, but deep down she knew a large part of it was wanting to stay close to Steve. She grins at Thomas and he offers her his arm.

“I think we’re getting ready to sit down for dinner, I’d love to hear more about your research proposal. May I take you to your seat?” She nods, loosely taking his elbow as they walk over to the table. She glances briefly over her shoulder, trying to find Steve in the crowd, but Thomas once again draws her attention away as he begins asking her questions about her area of study.

…

Steve’s had two tumblers of whiskey, but when he sees some guy putting his hand on her low back and walking her over to the banquet table, something burns harder inside him than booze ever could. He takes his glass with him, pressing up off the bar and stalking through the crowd. He sees red as he watches the man pull out her seat for her, his head filling with static at the way she smiles at him as she sits down. The man takes the seat on her right and Steve is quick to slide in on her left. The fire licking up his spine is soothed for a moment as she turns and smiles at him. He brings his arm to rest on the back of her chair, shifting to turn slightly toward her. Her eyes dart to the table where his other hand is resting around his glass, the ghost of a frown pulling at her lips that she’s quick to hide.

“Hi, Stevie. Let me introduce you to Thomas Klein. He’s an admissions fellow for the doctorate program here.” Steve tries to stretch a tight-lipped smile across his face, nodding at the man, Thomas Klein, who holds out his hand for Steve to shake. He’s quick to take his hand away from the brisk squeeze, settling it back around his glass.

“You must be the firefighter boyfriend. I just think that’s great that you serve our city like that. Hats off to you, man.” Steve’s fingers flex around his glass. He glances at her before settling his gaze on the man who’s offering him a grin he’d like to wipe clean off his face.

“Thanks, yeah, it’s, uh, it’s good work.” Thomas doesn’t seem too interested in hearing anything else he has to say, focusing his sights back on her.

“So, you were just starting to tell me about your research proposal.” He glances at Steve before continuing, “has she told you about this?” Steve’s jaw ticks, he shakes his head. She never talked about grad school stuff with him. She brings her hand to the top of Steve’s thigh, squeezing lightly.

“Well, I’d like to look at neuronal changes and regeneration in concussion patients.” Steve feels his stomach drop. He’s not really listening anymore, static once again in his mind, the voices around him a low hum in his ears. The only thing he can really think about is what Eddie had said a few weeks back to her.

“Is that why you’re with Steve? Are you running experiments on him?” 

He tosses back the rest of his drink, craning his neck to find a waiter to signal for a top-up. 

…

She has Thomas practically eating out of her hand over dinner as he gushes about her work. Steve, however, is a different story. She’s been trying to keep track of how many times he’s had that glass refilled, but she’s lost count as she struggles to keep a worried eye on him while also presenting herself well to a group of people who could literally hold her future in their hands. 

He’s sulking, she knows this look well, and she figures it’s his all too familiar jealousy creeping in from the way he’s openly glaring at Thomas. Quite frankly, she’s starting to get pissed that he’s acting this way when she’s on cloud nine at how well this night is going for her. She keeps her hand on his thigh, checking in with light squeezes every now and then, but Steve is unmoveable in his brooding stupor. The only sign of acknowledgement she gets is his hand that’s draped over her chair brushing her arm from time to time. She’s realizing that he must be really drunk to be so quiet. She had learned early on that drunk Steve ran a spectrum. It was at about a moderate drunkenness that he got loud and violent, but she actually preferred that to this stage, the point where Steve had gotten enough drink in him to go practically catatonic. 

“So Steve, what do you think about all of this one’s amazing work?” Thomas has turned his attention back on him. Steve tilts his head back a bit, eyeing Thomas. She winces at the low grumble of his voice. Yeah, he is really drunk.

“Well I guess it’s all a bit over my head. But it’s certainly something else.” She doesn’t have time to cringe at his words, not when he’s leaning in and planting an unpleasantly wet kiss on her cheek that she tries not to flinch away from. Steve huffs, slumping back in his seat. She’s scared to see Thomas’ reaction, but he appears unphased by it, maybe just interpreting it as a sweet moment of affection. But she knows better. That wasn’t affection. That was a reminder of a claim. Steve seems done with the interaction, but Thomas isn’t quite finished.

“Have you ever thought about going back to school yourself?” She takes a sharp inhale, her shoulders tensing at his question. She’s afraid to even see what Steve’s expression is now.

“You know, Thomas. I really haven’t. Probably couldn’t hack it with the likes of you.” Thomas laughs, but she’s horrified.

“Steve.” He just huffs, raising his hand to flag another waiter down to fill up his glass. She grabs his wrist and presses it back down on the table. He glares at her, but she’s too upset to care. When she speaks, it’s a hushed whisper. She hates how much like her mom she sounds.

“You’ve had enough for the night. I think you oughta just go lay down. I’ll be up later.” His eyes flash, something that she thinks could be hurt, but it’s gone just as quick and he scoffs, shaking his head. He slowly gets up from his seat, letting his hand linger heavy on her shoulder before he turns and shuffles out of the banquet hall. She knows it could have been worse, that Steve could have made a scene like he used to when they first started dating. She really thought they had worked past that. Obviously not.

…

When Steve gets back up to the hotel room, he promptly keels over the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach as his head starts to pound. He rests his forehead against the cool porcelain, letting out a garbled groan. His mind is a swirling flash of words and images. What Eddie had said, the way she was smiling at Thomas, and the way she looked at him when she told him to leave. Perhaps mercifully, it wasn’t long before his thoughts were silenced by the sweet slip of sleep that tugged him under, slumping him down splayed on the bathroom floor.

…

The party went late, much later than she expected. But, it was a huge success. She gets onto the elevator with two offers from supervising professors to pick up her research proposal, as well as a shining recommendation from Thomas for the graduate program. She can’t help but smile to herself, heels in her hand, as she rides up to her hotel room floor. However, the minute the doors open, her stomach sinks as she’s reminded of what, or who, is waiting for her down the hall. She sighs as she unlocks the door, rolling her shoulders back and bracing for whatever mess she’s about to walk into.

She’s surprised to find him sitting in an armchair, his back to her as he seems to be looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. She drops her heels with a soft thud that he doesn’t turn his head to acknowledge. When he speaks his voice is hoarse, but clearly sobered up. His casual tone scares her more than his shouting ever could.

“How was the rest of your night?” She quietly pads over to stand in front of him. He keeps his gaze firmly on the horizon, not even glancing her way.

“I-it was really good actually. I think they’re gonna take me on next year.” He sniffs.

“So am I gonna have to come into your little lab? Or have you already gotten what you need from me?” She’s shocked by his words. She hadn’t even considered that this was what he got so upset about. While he had made it clear he didn’t want anyone digging around in his head, she thought he’d at least be proud that she wanted to study something that so clearly affected him. That had clearly been a mistake on her part. She sighs, kneeling down next to his chair. She tries to take his hand in hers, but he jerks his arm away, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Steve, that isn’t what my research is about.” He finally looks at her, an angry glare that makes her heart jolt.

“Oh, it’s not? You can honestly tell me that you didn’t decide to study concussions because you’ve seen how fucked up I am? You’re not just trying to figure out why your boyfriend is such a fucking freak?” She rapidly shakes her head no, going to reach for him but thinking better of it, instead wringing her hands in her lap.

“That’s not it at all. Steve, I– I’m inspired by you– by your resilience.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes but she presses on.

“It’s true! I don’t think you’re a freak, Steve. I think you’re amazing. I only know a sliver of what you’ve been through– but the way that you keep going, keep trying? That’s why I want to do this work. That’s what I want to understand. How the human brain–”

“You know, I’ve heard enough talk about the human brain to last me a lifetime tonight.” She presses her lips in a thin line, feeling a prickly heat creeping up her throat, a combination of tears and her resurfacing anger. She lets out a bitter laugh that finally gets him to look at her again, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift.

“Why can’t you just be fucking happy for me? Goddamnit!” The volume of her voice surprises even her, but clearly not as much as it does Steve, whose brows have shot up his forehead, mouth agape. She’s practically seething as she glares at him, her fists clenched in her lap.

“Do you even care that I basically just got into grad school? Do you even care that I worked my ass off to get in at IU? Do you know why I did that, Steve?” He swallows hard.

“It was so I could stay close to you! You fucking asshole–”

“Did you fuck him?” She chokes on her words, face crumpling in confusion.

“What? Who are you even talking about?” They’re both standing now, pressing into each other’s space. Steve sneers.

“Oh, I think you know who I’m talking about, sweetie. You only had him practically up your skirt the whole dinner.” She scoffs.

“Are you seriously gonna do this? Is it that hard to believe that I’m getting in on merit alone? Is that how little you think of me?” His eyes are cold but his grin is wicked.

“Well, you’ve always been such a little slut for me. Not too hard to imagine you’re sharing the love with doctor dipshit.” It’s hard to fight with Steve, mostly because it seems like his anger never wavers. And he always fights dirty. But she on the other hand is already feeling the flames fizzle out into tears at his cruel words. She shrinks back from him, scrubbing harshly at her eyes.

“Fuck you, Steve. Just– fuck you.” She goes to walk away from him, but he grabs her arm, spinning her around and shoving her up against the window, his other hand pressing into her hip as she lets out a gasp. 

“What’d I tell you, huh? You don’t fucking walk away from me.” She shudders under his hard gaze.

“I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.” In a flash, his palm is splayed on her throat, fingers just digging in under her jaw and making her heave.

“See, I don’t believe that, doll. I’d bet all of Thomas Klein’s brain cells that you’re soaking your panties right now. I know you. And I know you like a fight.” She can’t respond, can’t even think with the way his grip on her throat is pressing in closer and closer until it’s all she can do to take quick gasps of breaths. Just as dark spots start to muddle her vision, he lets go and she slumps into his grip, coughing on ragged inhales. All she can focus on is the dark chuckle vibrating in his chest and the tears that are now dripping down her face. Steve’s palms drag down her thighs, rucking up the skirt of her dress before letting it fall back in place, squeezing at the swell of her hips.

“Such a pretty dress, doll. Who’d you dress up for tonight, hmm? Wanted to look nice and proper for all your colleagues?” Her head is still reeling as she presses back up against the cool glass. Steve drags his hands up, harshly squeezing at her breasts before skimming along the dipping neckline of her dress. His gentle touch is a stark contrast to the way he grabs the neckline and rips it straight down the middle, tearing the fabric right down to her navel. She gasps in shock at his action, a pure knife of despair twisting deep in her belly. 

She goes to speak, or even push him away, but he’s already overwhelming her again as he shoves two of his fingers into her mouth, making her choke at the way he presses down on her tongue.

“Little slut like you doesn’t need a dress like this, isn’t that right?” He’s a barrage of hands that she can’t cut through as he takes his fingers from her mouth and immediately bunches her skirt up, shoving his hand down the front of her panties and roughly dipping inside her. She hates the satisfied look on his face, but can’t deny the pleasure that instantly runs up her spine. 

“Ah, baby, I guess I was right. You feel how wet you are for me? Do you hear it?” She does, the squelching of his fingers as he thrusts up inside her ringing in her ears. They’ve always walked a fine line between play and pain, a line often blurred by high tempers. But she’s never seen this look in his eyes. It’s cold, almost vacant, and it makes her shudder in his hold.

 He’s ruthless as he fucks her with his fingers, all but taking her breath away to the point that she can only meekly gasp out his name a few times before he’s painfully pushing her over the edge of pleasure, a broken sob racking her body as she spasms around his fingers. He laughs in her ear before pulling her by her hips over to the bed and roughly jostling her down onto the mattress, pinning her down with his own hips.

“Steve, please. Will you look at me? Just stop for a second.” He pauses in his movements, his arms framing her head as he meets her gaze for an instant, but he’s gone in a flash, eyes glazing over.

“Tell me, baby. How does Thomas like it?” He sits back on his haunches, quickly shucking off his shirt and unfastening his pants. He pulls out his cock, fisting himself as he hovers back over her. She’s fully dropped into that space only Steve can send her to, and whatever was left of her anger has simmered out to a cool submission.

“There’s no one else, Steve. I-I’m not fucking anyone else. It’s just you– I s-swear.” She’s a sobbing mess of pleas, trying to snap Steve out of wherever he’s gone to, but as he lines himself up with her entrance, he brings his hand back to her throat, cutting off her whimpers as he thrusts into her hard, his hips bruising into hers.

“If you’re so fucking smart you should be able to follow some fucking directions. So shut up and take it.” He’s ruthless, relentless in the pace he sets, the hard slap of skin against skin getting drowned by her choked cries. She digs her nails into his chest, uselessly trying to push him away, create some kind of distance from the way he’s caging her in.

“Fuck, baby– such a good little pussy– always so wet for me, huh?” He won’t let up on her throat, the heel of his palm digging into her windpipe. It’s different from anything he’s done before. Steve can be aggressive, violent even, but when it’s with her, it’s always been calculated, always checking in with her, taking care of her afterwards. Many of their arguments would devolve into harsh fucking, it was the only way they could both simmer their quick tempers enough to be able to actually talk. This isn’t that, and she’s starting to panic. With the way she’s gasping for air, she does the only thing she can think of in this foggy state.

“Red.” She chokes it out, but he doesn’t even acknowledge she speaks, his eyes fixed on where his hips are continuously mashing into hers. She manages to drag one of her hands into his hair, tugging harshly.

“Red– Steve– red.” His eyes finally snap to hers, features immediately slackening. He quickly removes his hand from her throat, sitting back as she scrambles up the bed to curl in on herself against the headboard. All she can do for a moment is take big, gasping breaths, trying to slow down her pounding heart. She yelps when he reaches out for her ankle, skittering further back into the headboard and away from his touch. 

“B-baby?” His eyes are wide, searching. She got to see a patient wake up from a coma last month at the university hospital. That’s what she thinks he looks like right now, like he’s not sure how he got here or where he just was. He goes to reach for her again but she stumbles off the bed, pressing up against the wall as she scurries over to her bag. She quickly rifles through the clothes she packed, tugging a sweatshirt down over the torn top of her dress. Steve stands from the bed, shuffling towards her.

“I’m sorry, baby. P-please, I’m sorry– I don’t know what happened–”

“Don’t fucking touch me.” His face crumples at her words, causing him to still, but she tries not to get stuck on the sight, quickly turning back to shove the rest of her stuff into her bag.

“A-are you alright?” Her hands still, save for the tremble still running through her fingers.

“No, Steve. I’m not fucking alright.” She slings her back over her shoulder, sliding her heels back onto her feet and heading towards the door.

“Wait! You can’t leave, baby. Please– I’ll make it better– I swear–” She turns on her heel fixing him with a hard look that makes him hiccup.

“You can’t make this better, Steve. I– I’m done.” He takes a step toward her, but seems to think better of it, dragging his hands through his hair like he’s in agony.

“Y-you can’t be done– I need you– you promised you wouldn’t leave.” She grimaces, scrunching her eyes shut before finally looking at him again. For a moment, she wants to give in, seeing the tears streaming down his cheeks for the first time. But instead she just shakes her head.

“We promised each other a lot of things, Steve. Look where it got us. I’m done.”

…

Steve wakes up late the next morning on the floor. In a pile of torn sheets and ripped-up pillows. He squints around at the room. The bedside lamps have been smashed on the floor. The stock painting that was hung on the wall had been torn through, skewed over the carpet. Steve winces as he flexes his hands, looking down to see a smear of blood and scabs across his knuckles. He glances back around, confirming what he assumed when he sees the perfect hole punched through one wall. 

He doesn’t care. Not about any of it. The only thing going through his mind is the image of her walking out that door. That, and how, for the first time, maybe ever, he had sobbed so hard he thought he’d break into pieces.

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Well look at you!!! Are you dressed as Wirt from Over the Garden Wall!!??? I really love that show, although I really don’t watch it as often as I should. I first watched it like any old kid does, pirated through YouTube with the actual episode in the corner as a tiny square and the rest of the screen filled with other nonsense! Boy, you really haven’t lived if you haven’t done that at least once in your life. Once watched someone’s upload of the entire Toy Story 4 movie like that — can you believe it? Someone posting the entire Toy Story 4 movie on YouTube! The best part is, it stayed on there for like four weeks! What a fun time.. now, fortunately nowadays with me being on the interwebs more often I know some peeps have posted the whole OtGW series on Google docs which they’ve then shared around, which is pretty nifty indeed! Really appreciate folks doing stuff like that, because otherwise digital media can just vanish into the air with the way streaming is nowadays. Rotten stuff.

Oh, anyway, Over the Garden Wall! Yes, I remember when I first started watching that show. I remember watching the very opening, thinking, “Scenes of the past? No, scenes of fantasy? No… perhaps passing memories, fleeting dreams and thoughts?” I like to think I was pretty right, personally! I like that we’re shown… well, I won’t say much, but with such a simple opening everything happens in plain sight. Even moreso when you look at the Easter eggs, like the intro of each episode!!! Gosh, I felt amazed when I learned all the things it hides!!! I used to gobble down theory videos one after the other about the show! A good show really has you thinking and looking at things with a keen eye and ear, doesn’t it? Over the Garden Wall is such eye candy too, it’s funny how a show can have a simple style like that and yet so detailed too, I’m sure the art style took a while to brew and develop.

My very favourite character was Wirt, no doubt you can guess, when I watched OtGW I was but an insecure teenager myself and as an oldest sibling who plays clarinet, well, it was like a match made in the Unknown! Now that I’m more grown Wirt comes across more silly to me now, ha. Funny how that is you know? When you grow up, you can see the same story at different points in your life, but relate to different characters. That happened to me once with this book about a primary school age girl in foster care. When I was a younger kid, I related a bunch to the main character and her frustrations and struggles, but when I later read the book again as a… teen maybe? I found myself relating more to the adults in her life. It was a strange kind of thing to experience. It helps me remember that to children, things that may seem small to adults, can be really major and big! Children’s concerns should be taken into account all the same, they shouldn’t be simply brushed off as nonsense. Teenagers’ too!

Actually, hey! Speaking of Over the Garden Wall, this I hope you’ll like, I put a little reference to it in my most recent tumblr fake dashboard post! I haven’t seen anyone point it out at all!?? It is none other than fishblr user burgle-the-turts! Their icon no doubt confirms it: a teapot, similar to the kettle Greg wears — I mean, sorry, his elephant costume. The “burgle the turts” line lives in my brain, what can I say. I dropped many other fun references to media in the post, for example, fishblr user greenXD is a reference to that funny thing Master Wu says in the Lego Ninjago movie. THAT’S RIGHT I WATCHED NINJAGO but I haven’t sadly seen the movie and I kind of fell of the show when Zane was kidnapped..?? I did watch the snake stuff, and the whole season where…..

(I proceed to elaborate at length. You never receive your candy.)

trick :)

[austinslounge]

One thing I wanna say is:

People like to say Austin is older and just doesn’t wanna show affection with Kaia in public like he did Vanessa. While I get maybe he don’t wanna do the heavy kissing and stuff , but most of their affection was just simple hugs and cuddles that I have seen complete grown ass adults do. Beside this man was all over Lily Rose Depp , hands on her ass kissing all up on her in the steers for people to see. That was only a few short months before getting with Kaia. The man’s love language is touch…this lack of chemistry between him and Kaia doesn’t have anything to do with that. Even if he wanted to be a little bit more reserved we would still be able to see the love and affection between them. Tom and Zendaya don’t be carrying on like that and we know they are a vibe

Girl thank you!! 💯 Thank you so much for saying this.

That man was horny in the streets kissing on Lily Rose Depp like there was no tomorrow rofl 😂 🤣

And, he was actually smiling! 👀

At the very least, they were engaged in conversation.

That was just months before he got with Kaia. Years before that, he was all up on Vanessa lol.

Shippers are really going to be trying to convince us that he just suddenly turned into a church boy overnight with Kaia? Kaia, who was just up on Marcello weeks ago?

Something isn't adding up lol. 🤣

And like you said, we don't need to see makeout sessions in the streets to know that a couple is happy, thriving, and in love. Like you mentioned, Tom and Zendaya are very private, and hardly makeout in the streets, but you can still see their love and adoration for each other in their smiles, in how content they look with each other, their little touches, and the sweet little tender moments that they share with each other.

We can also tell that they talk and communicate a lot with each other. Kaustin looks like they barely even interact with each other, let alone do anything else lol. 👀

Even when Tomdaya was hiding their relationship for years, you still saw a deep friendship and connection between those two.

Kaustin is not normal. And you can tell it just by looking at Austin's previous relationships, and by looking at other people's (genuine) relationships.

[star-mum]

Gar and Jason with a Physically Affectionate!Reader

A/N: I was going to do the whole team but I got overwhelmed 🫠 as always I’ll pepper in the fact that I’m brazilian, platonic physical affection is very common here and since it’s not in the US – culturally at least – and these bitches are all emotionally constipated and touch starved, i thought their reactions to casual touches might be ! I also based these headcanons – mostly – on how my friends and I treat each other ! 

This kinda morphed into a different thing altogether as I wrote it but anyways, Im tagging @pinkchubbiebunnie (i was itching to just send you this undone the whole time) and @trice-divergent (you’re literally watching me type this out – creep – but thank you for helping me with the older Titans, I was struggling)

Garfield Logan:

the most physically affectionate out all of the Titans, and even so that’s not saying much -> they’re all a little touch starved

He’s normally the one who offers up hugs when needed, who initiates it 

I feel like only giving/getting hugs when things are bad would condition him a little to only expect that when shitty things are happening 

So he’s very confused — but pleasantly so — when reader just offers physical affection when good things happen and sometimes just because

Ranges from simple almost impersonal stuff like “hey good job at training” hi-fives to really sweet tender moments like holding his hand, caressing his face or cuddling for movie nights or when one — or both — of them can’t sleep

Let's assume you’re not yet in a relationship: he’s so flustered ALL. THE. TIME. Always finds excuses to be near you so you’ll be able to touch him, weather that’d be lightly slapping his arm when you’re talking about something you excited about, booping his nose whenever he looks too serious

For PDA I think Gar actually really likes it, as long as it's tasteful, you know? 

Like holding hands? Yes! Please hold his hand when going out or during movie nights or just whenever ! 

Holding onto his arm and/or leaning on him during team meetings or when waiting in line for something? He always gets so giddy when ppl can see how much you like being near him

Hugging/cuddling/cradling his face —> please do! It calms him down, also just feels nice to both be so casually close and feeling wanted in front of other ppl (like you’re not embarrassed or ashamed of him) 

Jason Todd:

he honestly looks like he’d bite your hand off if you tried to touch him

Is dealing with that weird period of being touch starved -> loathes being touched x craves physical affection

Would for sure say some awful fuck boy shit if you keep touching his arms to get his attention, I cringe just thinking about it (i crave him)

if you’re not dating, whenever a touch is a little too tender and sweet he’d feel the need to compensate or hide how much it made his heart race with some either mean or flirty bullshit 

if you are in a relationship though, i feel like the flirting would get so much worst -> the team hates you – not really – every time another “babe” comes out of his mouth, fake gags can be heard all throughout the Tower

PDA = he’s gross, terrible, disgusting – i must have him –  really doesn't care who is/isn't around will be as touchy as he feels like

definitely gets a habit of slapping your ass, its not even a sexual thing – for the most part – but the first time it happens in one of the common areas the room gets deadly silent →I don't know who’d be more mad about it, you or one of the grown adults who have just been subjected to that

Extra - Platonic Team Reactions (i had some of these already written down so why not)

Rachel Roth:

she really likes to give her friends hugs !!

too shy and nervous to make anyone uncomfortable so she rarely goes for it tho : /

I think she’s always cold – like her hands are always a bit cold – so I also think she’d like holding hands, specially if your hands are more warm then not

tired and sleepy always – her powers seem tiring – so can and will just take a nap on your shoulders whenever, it's pretty impressive actually

Conner Kent:

he’s just an overgrown toddler, you honor → feel like once you start with the hi-fives or fist bumps, he gets too used to it to stop or question it

“yes, this pasta definitely requires a fist bump, you're absolutely right”

the embodiment of “if i run and leap at Terry right now he'd definitely catch me in his arms” → you tried this once !! no one managed to get the coffee stains off the carpet after that : D

Miscellaneous:

Kory Anders: not one to initiate physical contact but that doesn't mean she dislikes it; due to her powers, i assume her skin is always warm -> so if you’re cold – like Rachel – she really doesn't mind holding your hand so you feel better 

Dick Grayson: awkward dad mode engaged; not used to it at all – thanks Bruce, father of the fucking year – but i can see him resorting to those awkward head pats (Jeff to Annie in Community), starts with him not knowing what to do to it kinda becoming his thing 

Hank Hall: definitely the type to give shoulder like taps/slap dad’s do when they are proud of you, completely underestimates his own strength tho → they don't hurt !! but if you're distracted/not expecting you’ll definitely be thrown out of balance a little; other than that I don't see him initiating much, but if you need/ask for a hug he’ll definitely provide !! 

Dawn Granger: mom friend ? Mom friend ! Gives the nicest hugs and somehow always knows when you need one; head pats but they're not awkward like when Dick does it

Donna Troy: I don’t think she’s very touchy ! doesn't mind if you need a hug or something, but she’s definitely not one to initiate or seek it

[kaleidosouls]

im too lazy to put the vpn on to tweet so im gonna tumblr post; talk watch abt the amazing digital circus ep 3 (spoilers ofc) [Edit: i had more thoughts i guess il put it in the replies bc tumblr has those now? maybe itll be more accessible for my twitter generated yapping disorder)

finally some appreciation for my man and favourite character kingler like he goddamn DESERVES. i actually have not enjoyed tadc very much theres so much i rly dislike abt it but its like super well produced and indie so like you watch to be on the loop (i wish it was actually rendered closer to the quality of cd games from the 2000s that it seemed to be referencing but like, it looks how it looks and thats how it is), i rly disliked the script for the mpst part in the first 2 eps but ive loved kingler from day 1 so having an ep with mostly just him and pomni (i have mixed feelings on her too but w/e) was great great great and we had some lore n stuff but rly like i could smell a fellow traumatized man whos a bit wacky to cope from miles away and im glad to be proven Right

sorry im older man fucker so he rly hits all the boxes bc hes actually so sweet and helpful hes just mentally unstable (love him for that) and a lot of his endearing like caring nature comes thru in the physical aspect of the character and with less dialogue, rly the less dialogue the show has the better, idk who does the scripts and i dont wanna diss them but like oof i fucking hate it shkdh like its not like its never funny but its just, off, ive still not been able to properly explain to my wife the way that its off to me, and it bothers me to not be able to cohere those emotions! anyway

kingler so cute so very handsome and uwu so gentle and kind 💖💖💖 i love how gentle he is and good to pomni (ofc ppl are gonna call it fatherly or god forbid grandfatherly when hes like 40, and now if you ship them ppl will say its incesty when theyre two grown adults but w/e) like idk i just love a kind mentally unwell man!!! im simple!!! him just overexposing at the near end in dialogue was rly awkward in the writing like man they just, the dialogue is so not good. but in theory his character is so good and the thing abt the darkness and such was sweet. like hes just always been so endearing and the ep just gives a lot of free real estate kingler screentime to drink with my eyeballs, it doesnt change my opinion on the character at all bc ive always loved him this much

the rest was ok just the typical fare for the most part, like tadc rly often makes me so dissatisfied bc it has so So much potential but the ways it kinda just ends up like a dumbed down typical cartoon is really meh. i do love caine though and more proof that hes a non malicious (although maybe harmfully ignorant) ai. his gags almost land for me if they werent really Really lampshaded, i love how much he cares but is incapable (yet) of improving, i thought it was sweet zooble was so earnest with him. like, the whole tadc def improves the less mean spirited it is, for me. which is hard bc the most favoured character is rancid mean disney purple guy.

gghh why is this show so agdidhsifirh (gestures of anger) like its like, much worse ENA or smth but i know theres more that bothers me abt it than that, and i cant grasp it. im stil in hell irl so i cant cohere a lot in general so w/e, i need to chill and let go. i did like the horror trophy head designs of everyone that i could see (i wanted to get a better look at kinglers but i couldnt find a good frame from watching on my phone) like they were super over the top and fun. i wish the settings they travelled to still felt like, even remotely circusy? they truly feel like just we’re in a different cartoon. but its ok i only hate 749374947493 things abt the shows style choices

i want a framed photo of kingler so i could kiss it. or maybe i could trt to makena plush of him. he is my beloved to hurt/comfort. hes wacky and nice and traumatized and has memory issues and i wuv him

[fizzingwizard]

Played the Snufkin: Melody of Moominvalley demo

teehee will the real Snufkin please stand up??

First of all the art and music are so gorgeous. The watercolor effect and paper texture are enchanting. I felt soothed just watching the intro. It's very moomin-y and made me remember how I felt when I first discovered the books. When you walk through puddles, there's the sound of splashing water, and when you cross a log bridge, it sounds like hollow wood. Ideal vibe.

I did try *cough* to jump off the cliffs and stuff... but no, you can't kill yourself in this game, bahahaha. Unsurprising but Idk I've played Sims too long and "how can I kill everyone" has become my modus operandi. Not even Moomins are safe.

You pretty much just use space bar, S, and A, so playing was easy. I encountered some trouble when jumping at times, but Idk if that was jumps being glitchy or just me still getting the hang of it.

Snufkin in this is freakishly strong. Able to carry rocks while jumping across a rushing river and push a giant boulder around. Superstrength!! But it is a lot of fun, really, running and jumping everywhere, climbing things... I got stuck at one point where you have to climb behind a waterfall, because I didn't think you could climb horizontally!

Now this game stars Snufkin, but don't be fooled, it's really a Snufkin roast. You watch Teety-woo (who is leading the tutorial basically) follow Snufkin around getting ignored for ages x'D and he's so complimentary the whole time that it morphs into an insult. The rest of the time, in the name of helping, he does a lot of nothing and you stop feeling bad about ignoring him bahahahaha.

Your "mighty" harmonica x'D has the ability to calm and charm other creatures and make them fall in love with you. I don't care what anyone says, I love this whole music therapy angle. I also like finding inspiration in random bushes. It WAS a bit weird to use the harmonica on this Creep only so he could give me a boost up the cliff lol what was wrong with stacking rocks?

But the harmonica's best use is DEFINITELY hypnotizing birds and then launching them at a target. Who need guns when you have birds?? Seriously this was way too much fun, who knew Looney Tunes humor would be this amusing to me as a full grown adult :P

You get quests, like "rescue all the baby birds." But whenever you feel like it you can fuck off and go fishing for a while. Sorry mama! I didn't notice any game-related effect from it, like catching actual fish. So idk if that's the way it's meant to be, for relaxing, or if I'm just stupid.

I was a little confused when I got like three quests and didn't see how I'd made any progress on any of them. Then all of a sudden the mama bird, who says "woo" when she's sad and "teety" when she's happy, led to the completion of the "Find a name" quest. And I love Teety-woo praising the existential beauty of his own name, and then fucking off to pay some bills. The great Snufkin who?? I've got responsibilities!

Oh no... signs! Oh no... a park! Being asked to look after it is pretty funny! But the ensuing complete and total property destruction is even funnier!

Not even kidding, Snufkin demolishes this park. It was really fun! This game isn't hard, but for someone who doesn't play games, it wasn't too mindlessly simple for me either. I enjoyed dodging the park keepers, launching birds at their heads, and yeeting signs into oblivion.

And we end with the discovery that Moominvalley has dried up and Moomintroll is nowhere to be found! An excellent prologue. I'm definitely looking forward to this game. I like the idea of a game that has both relaxing elements and more energetic ones without being too terribly kiddie (of course it's perfect for kids, I'm just saying, as an adult, I wasn't bored), as well as one that is whimsical and silly without losing emotional depth, with manageable, personal stakes. The demo definitely didn't take me very long to get through and I have no idea how long the full game will be. But long or short, the story seems promising.

[askbohemiancompany]

It has been a wild few weeks for Gwen. Between meeting gods, following a royal like the world’s worst groupy and getting a prank shot down, the psychic needs a way to relax.

Too bad Gwen is not able to take a break right now. She is standing before a small house, overlooking the beautiful water that can be seen from Driftveil City.

The merc pushes the button on the doorbell. The sound of multiple locks being unlocked can be heard, which puts Gwen at ease. On the other end of the door a bisharp wearing a light green peplum approaches.

There are many striking details for this steel type. For starters, where parts of the bisharp ‘armor’ and rib blades should be, there is thick black fur on her entire torso and arms close to her shoulder. Speaking of the upper arms, the shoulder pads that gave bisharps their soldiering look are non-existent. On the sides of her head are tall pointed yellow ears, matching the skin tone on her face. Finally her canines are far more pronounced, remaining visible even when she closed her mouth

Upon seeing the gothitelle, her mouth would not stay closed very long, as she stares in awe at the psychic before her. “G-Gwen? You look so…”

“Different? Yeah I caved and decided to evolve. It has been a long couple weeks and I want to at least see two mons that can help me unwind. Sorry for the short notice Lingua.”

Shaking her head, the bisharp almost jumps forward, giving Gwen a hug. Which would be a surprise to anyone who knew Gwen, as she is known for not being an affectionate person.

“No, it's great! I haven’t seen you in a while and I’m sure they would be happy to see you,” turning behind her, “Hey Posy look who is here.”

A child approaches the gothitelle. This child is a gothita, but the natural bows the gothitelle line usually have, resemble pink fairy wings. The young psychic stares at the merc for a good few seconds before finally saying something.

“Aunty Gwen!” The child then hugs the gothitelle leg. “You got so big.”

Giving a sensible chuckle, Gwen returned the hug. “Hey there Posy! I have grown lately. Shows that can happen, even when you get older. How have you been? School has been going good for you?”

As soon as that is asked, the child runs off to grab something and present her a paper with a big 94% in red lettering. “I was one of 6 people who passed this test! I get to draw and color during the retake!”

“Well well well! Look at you. The smarty in a sea of dummies!” Gwen is keeping her language clean around this little bean of a child.

“Mommy got me ice cream after!”

Gwen bends down and pats her head.

“Aunty Gwen. Why did you get so big?”

With that brief bit of eye contact, Lingua knows there is more to the story. Something that is not appropriate for Posy to hear.

“Say. Posy, why don’t you go play in your room for a little bit. Gwen and I need to talk about boring adult stuff.” Lingua says in a gentle tone.

The childs gives a confused glance. Gwen, noticing this, decides to step in. “Once boring adult talk is done, we can do some coloring, alright? Besides, the reason I evolved was simple, I got sick of being called a kid.”

This lit the child’s face up. “Ok great!” With that, the munchkin ran off. Leaving the two women alone.

Now is the time for some difficult discussions.

“Gwen. I’m sorry to hear about Floyd. The few times I have met him he was a good man.” The bisharp put her hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Gwen, while clearly not happy, gently grasped the bisharp’s hand.

“Floyd and I are in a line of work where this kind of thing happens. We knew one of us was going to die early,” a twinge of rage creeps into the psychic as she clenches her fist. “I know who did it, and they are one of those freaks that attacked Arcadium. She also has a hand in the death of one of my friend’s entire family. We both have been making plans to track down and kill her.”

A brief appearance of dark energy forms in her eyes. Lingua notices this as well, but does not know how to change the topic, so she just allows the gothitelle to continue with what has happened with them. Gwen, after realizing she is emitting energy, calms herself down.

“Tying into that, we also have to guard Nigel for a job. None of us are happy about it.”

“You are guarding Nigel!?” Lingua’s voice briefly got loud before stopping herself. “Why are you and your team guarding that bastard?” A hint of venom comes out as she describes the clefable. Her fangs are bared and the heckles on her visible fur raised. She even gives a low growl.

“He took a plea deal about ratting his whole network out. Basically it is the second biggest bust of a pokemon trafficking operation.” The psychic sounds matter of fact in this tough situation.

“I’m. I don’t know what to say.” Someone who Lingua intensely despised is finally being held to face the weight of his incalculable crimes. Some of which are inflicted on her and warped her life as a child. “Is there any sort of punishment for him?”

Gwen shakes her head no. “After this, it is witness protection then he has to live off the radar.”

Now it is Lingua’s turn to get angry, the rare moment of her trembling, fangs still out to see. Gwen knows it is about as intimidating as a stuffed animal, but still this is not healthy for her to do.

“If it makes you feel better I know some inside information not connected to the case,” Lingua’s brow is raised. “The money he got from killing that one centaur thing ran out, he dumped a lot of it into a club that never opened, he bought a car that was frozen over and the little bit he has left he cannot even spend on what he wants due to not wanting to attract attention.”

This is little comfort for the hybrid. “I’m glad Nigel is facing some justice. Better too late than never.” The bisharp gives a seething, bitter hiss. It did not make her laugh like Gwen hoped it would.

“There is one more thing I need to make sure you are aware of.”

There is more? What Gwen had advised is already bad enough. Lingua prepares for the worst.

“We severed ties with our former financier. She and my boss did not exactly end on good terms,” Gwen grabs both of the hybrid’s shoulders and stares her dead in the eyes. “Please stay away from Arcadium and Black City. If anyone starts following you or you see anyone you do not know outside your door, call me immediately okay?”

After this impassioned warning, the psychic pulls the dark type close to her in a hug. Gwen’s tense breathing and heart beating can be felt by Lingua. This hug takes the hybrid’s breath away.

“I just…I have made your life more difficult. You deserve better than all of this. I’m a parasite, not a friend.”

Shaking her head, the hybrid pulls Gwen into her own embrace. “Gwen. If it wasn’t for you I would not be alive. I wouldn’t be reunited with my family. Most importantly, I would have never met Posy. You will always be one of the best things to happen to me.”

Gwen smiles and allows the hug to continue. The hybrid’s gentle heartbeat matched in rhythm of her own After all, Lingua always had a calming effect on her.

“I will be careful as I always have been. Let’s go back inside. I think Posy will want to do coloring with you.”

The gothitelle nods, a seldom sweet smile is plastered on Gwen’s face. While it is not entirely happy, Gwen is going to enjoy the downtime she can get.