#I've worked a single shift for it and it's just an easier job for me. more aligned with my experience

[fairymint]

Smol update, I've added to my rules some timeframe specifics- that I'm busy on weekends. That aside, as an fyi- my husband is on vacation for the rest of the year, so i could become distracted in the meantime~

[obscenely-overdue]

[OOC] Weighted Pregnant Belly Instructions

Hi everyone! For those interested, I've jerry-rigged a method to pad/simulate/wear-a-fake-pregnant-tummy-for-kink-purposes with some real weight and firmness to it that I think people would like! It works very well for me but is also functionally a prototype/first pass at the idea, so there are certainly areas that it could be improved. (which is me saying "experiment and improve upon this, we can make it better!")

I'll preface this with the fact that, if you pay full price for everything involved, assuming you have NONE of it to start, it's probably about $120. That said, about $20-25 of that comes from a specific kind of pillow and blanket, which you very well may have, which would bring it realistically down to $100, and some of it is stuff which can be bought on sale pretty easily, which would land you in the neighborhood of $80. Again, it isn't cheap, but it has something not even a fancy Roanyer tummy has:

WEIGHT and BULK

It's also made of inconspicuous or otherwise easily hidden items, so if you have roommates or family who could see this stuff, it's great at being tucked away or hiding in plain sight. If you're curious, I have pictures, a shopping list, and step by step instructions, as well as some further tips and info. It's pretty long so I'm putting it under a cut...

Let's get started!

What you'll need:

One piece of fully body shapewear (the mauve one on top) and one piece of "tummy tuck" shapewear (black on the bottom). The full body one is about 2 sizes too big for what it's meant to do normally (so for me, an XXXL. This is the same shapewear I use for my squishmallow tummy for RP blog pictures), and the tummy tuck one is the "correct" size for my body (XL). The tummy tuck one gives you all the support, so you don't want it too oversized. DON'T GO UNDERSIZED EITHER as what we're going to load this up with is gonna cause some compression, and too much pressure on your abdomen can be harmful. When in doubt, go at your size or maybe one size bigger, but no farther. Both of these run $20-30 a piece at a target but also can be found on sale for $10-20. Target is going to charge you more than Walmart, and it doesn't have to be top of the line.

One soft, round pillow. This is like a $6 pick up from Walmart. It's not just soft from it's fabric, but it's specifically not firm to the touch. It's all give and is very malleable. Technically you could use a regular pillow too, but this being roughly disk shaped helps it do its job as basically the "lower belly" that keeps the weight from shifting too low.

An averaged sized blanket. Softer materials that fold and bunch up easier are preferred. You PROBABLY already have something that will work for this, but if you don't, again, Walmart will charge you like $15-20 for one.

And finally...

A 20 lbs kettlebell. This BASTARD is the single most expensive thing you'll need, and unfortunately is required if you want it to be properly heavy. This one came from Target, and ran me $55. You might think you want to go heavier, but trust me, this thing has all the heft you'll need. If you really want to, you could feasibly go for a 25 lbs. one, but those are even more expensive. The kettlebell shape is important because it's mostly round, unlike a dumbbell, so we can wrap it up and use it for a reasonably pregnant-shaped belly. A dumbbell of this weight might be a little cheaper, but if you're already going to drop $40 on an oddly shaped weight, another $15 so it can fit the tummy shape is worth it.

Putting it on:

[DISCLAIMER: If at any point something HURTS while putting this thing on or while wearing it, safely but quickly remove it. The weight is supposed to be cumbersome and a little uncomfortable for the fantasy of it, but if anything HURTS, something is wrong, and you need to take it off. If you lay on your back with this thing on for too long, get ready for ab muscle aches, possibly the next day, as your tummy will be supporting 20 lbs of external weight just pressing on it, and those muscles don't get used unless you work out. I've never worn this thing overnight to sleep, but I don't advise it, as extended period of compression can be harmful. Same logic as to why AFAB people who don't want visible boobs shouldn't bind for too long.]

Start by putting on the fully body shapewear, and then putting the tummy tuck shapewear over that. The fabric under my shapewear here is my sports bra, which isn't part of the belly process.

Next you're going to load the soft, round pillow into the full body shapewear. It's going to kind of fold in on itself and that's not an issue, if anything it gives a nice little landing zone for the next thing we're going to add.

Don't fight trying to get the pillow under the tummy tuck shapewear, right now just roll it down to your waistline under the pillow bulk like so.

Next you'll take your blanket, lay it out, set the kettlebell inside of it, and wrap/bunch it up. You want it something approximating 'round', making sure the kettlebell isn't going to roll/fall out when you pick it up.

Next, you load the wrapped up bastard in, setting it on top of the pillow. The kettlebell is going to shift, and try to sink deeper, that's fine, just maneuver it so it sits on the pillow, allowing the pillow to spread the weight more evenly.

Before you pull up the tummy tuck shapewear, it's going to look like this, notice how the bottom of it is lighter because that's all pillow, with the blanket over top.

Now comes of trickiest/most strenuous part, you gotta pull out the tummy tuck shapewear and get it out and around the bulk of your "tummy". You'll have an easier time if you pull the back part up a little first, so it's not fighting you, which you can see in the above photos. If anything starts to hurt during this process, stop and take it out, because likely something is too tight or too heavy.

Once the tummy tuck shapewear is pulled all the way up, it should look about like this, and you're loaded up and ready to waddle!

Notice how much more contained it all is? It's not spilling off of me anymore, it's firmly held against me. Now, just top with your favorite maternity shirt!

Or don't!

Now, clearly, it doesn't LOOK very pregnant. It's lumpy and awkward and it'll come out downright lopsided your first few times. But this isn't for taking pictures for an RP blog, this is for simulating something close to the feeling of carrying something heavy like a pregnant belly around. For those of us who can't or don't want to actually get pregnant, this is a decent approximate that's reasonable to buy and easily hidden. This is for nights after everyone else is in bed or you're home alone, and it can be a LOT of fun.

Great, now what do I do with it?

This is the end of the instructions and is more just ideas for some fantasy fulfillment. Feel free to drop your own ideas in replies or reblogs!

So something that sets this belly apart from just a pillow, or bunched up clothes under your shirt, is that it's very firm, and independently held against you. A pillow under your shirt is dependent on the shirt for structure. If you lift the shirt, pillow falls off. That is not the case here, so suddenly, you've unlocked the ability to put on too small clothes, or button ups, or robes, whatever, that's too small for you now, and can fuss and mess with it without affecting the stability of the belly. You can wear pants that don't button or simply bunch up under that heavy, firm underbelly. Hell, you can simulate getting dressed with a 20 lbs mass hanging off of you. Put on socks around this thing, it's the stuff of preg kink dreams!

Getting up and down, laying in bed and rolling over, the shit that's easy to do now, takes a LOT more effort all of the sudden. Again, I urge you not to lay flat on your back too much, because I did that while padding before bed, and woke up with some muscle aches centered on my tummy, in muscles that I hadn't used in god knows how long. Don't over exert yourself with this thing. I'm bringing this up a lot because I don't want anyone getting hurt.

Taking the stairs is nuts. Going up is way more effort, and going down feels almost hazardous as you wont have vision of your feet anymore.

If you're into the domesticity of pregnancy, try doing some household chores with this thing on! Loading a dishwasher, doing some laundry, maybe some tidying. I personally have found it weirdly exhilarating, waddling around loading the washing machine around this heavy bulk. Have fun bending over to pick up something you dropped!

Even just chilling and gaming with a lap full of heavy belly feels kind of new and exciting. When you're not used to it, even the mundane shit gets hotter with a tummy like this

That's about all I got. If someone else gets everything and tries this out, let me know your experiences with it and how you've improved it! I've had an ask suggest a weighted medicine ball, so that could also work if you have one you're willing to test out. Please enjoy, and share with your pregnancy loving mutuals! Thanks for reading!!!

[loove-persevering]

Peter Sutherland x fem!Reader (The Night Agent)

Description: Peter comes home injured from a mission and needs a little TLC! fem!reader (requested!)

Warnings: Fluff!!! Little angst!

Hi all first time writing for Peter! It’s a little short but I was excited! Please send some more Im working on another in my inbox tomorrow:)

The worry never went away really. Dating someone who was an agent for the FBI and the white house you constantly were holding your breath waiting for Peter to come back home.

Every single time the phone rang you would swear your heart rate increased out of fear that you’d get a call similar to the one you got the night of the Metro Bombing.

Peter knew how to take care of himself. That was forsure and he took care of you as well but that didn’t mean you didn’t worry. He had been gone on an assignment for about a week of course you had no idea where or what that entailed due to the security of his job and you never asked questions because he’d never tell. Peter was good at being loyal not only to you but his job, he had expectations to uphold for himself despite the building pressure on his shoulders.

He had called a few hours ago and you could tell by his voice he was exhausted. He said he’d be home tonight but late, probably in the middle of the night. For your sanity you attempted to stay up just wanting to see him walk through the door would help you rest easier.

Easier said than done though because you had fallen asleep on the couch the TV illuminating the light on Peter's face as he gently woke you. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust and when you finally did you noticed the wounds scattered across his face, nothing severe but you knew things didn’t go as smoothly as you had hoped they would for him. “Oh Peter,” You say, reaching up cupping the side of his cheek. He was resting on the couch with you, his forehead pressed into yours as his eyes closed. You knew he rested better when you were around. Sometimes you swore he was nocturnal but other times you looked over mid-movie and he was pressed up against you asleep.

“It’s nothing,” He assures you. “I've had worse,” He admits and you both knew he was right. His eyes flutter open and he looks at you, his eyes soft, delicate like as he looked at you. He pushed his body forward, his lips meeting yours, nothing but a chaste kiss to give you both some comfort.

When you pulled away it wasn’t a moment later his hand rested along your jaw pulling you back in. The kiss had a little more to it this time, not as innocent as the first. You didn’t pull away until you heard the sharp intake of his breath when he pushed himself to be on top of you, “What?” You ask him.

He sighs, pulling himself off of you carefully, “My rib,” He says his eyes are squinting in pain as he tries to correct his position.

You move forward with your hands gently pulling at the bottom of his shirt, “I think you should take me to dinner first,” He says with a slight smile on his face.

You roll your eyes and laugh continuing to lift his shift, “Peter,” You sigh, seeing the blood dripping from a cut. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches but it needed to be cleaned up. “Can you take it off? I’ll go grab some bandages,” You say pushing off the couch to stand.

It was one quick movement for him to peel off his shirt displaying his toned torso. “Y/N,” Peter said, smiling up at you. “You gonna go get it?” He asks and you felt yourself hold back a smile realizing he had caught your gaze.

“Smart ass,” You mumble, turning away from him. You went to the bathroom grabbing everything you needed and walked back in the living room. Peter leaned back against the couch, his head resting and his eyes closed. When he heard the floor creak he glanced up his eyes watching you as you walked back over toward him. “You’re gonna hate this,” You admit to him as you sit down getting the bottle of alcohol out.

You concentrated the next few minutes cleaning up the wound on his abdomen, and then moving up to his face to help clean the peppered cuts along his neck and jaw. “I hate not knowing this is happening to you.” You tell him and he winced at the contact from the alcohol. “I hate not knowing your hurt when you're away.”

His hand reaches up and clasps your wrist, “I know.” He says gently. “The only thing I'm thinking about is coming back home to you,” He says.

Your face grew into the softest expression as you stared at him in awe. Peter was always so reassuring and he always seemed to know what you needed to hear. “You better,” You say sniffling.

“You know I think you like bandaging me up anyway gives you an excuse to gawk.” You gently push his shoulder with your hand smiling at him. “It’s okay you can, I sure do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Oh you do?” You say leaning on closer to him, your faces only inches apart.

That was all it took for him to pull you in, his hand slipping behind your neck as he pulled you in. The kiss was innocent enough at first and then it began to become more feverish. You reach a hand up running through his hair and his hand runs along the lower part of your back. He tugs you gently as if to tell you what he wanted and you slide your leg over straddling him.

“Peter,” You say, pulling away from the kiss. Peter just pulled you back in and you seemingly melted into another kiss just as quickly as he did. “Peter,” You pull back again.

“Hmm,” He mumbles as you pull away.

“Whatever you do, just always try and come home okay?” You ask him. His gaze softened slightly as he realized what you were saying. “Just try I know it’s the job but-“ You begin to scramble your words.

“Y/N,” He cuts you off his thumb running circles at your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “I’m always gonna try and get home to you okay?” He says. “Always.”

“Okay,” You say back to him. “But for now how about you make it up to me for all the worrying I do?” You say and he grins and you swear he was going to kill you with his smile.

“Yes ma'am,” He says not wasting a second pulling you back in for another kiss.

———-

Sorry for any typos! Didn’t proof read!

[bettsfic]

Venting-

When I hear people give the advice that writing is never a waste of time if you’re having fun or you should never feel like a story was a waste of time, you should enjoy the process. This advice I believe is real and true and works for some writers. But at the same time, there are writers who are very stressed when writing and feel better about their work when it’s finished. Not the “I enjoy having written.” But the “I have crippling anxiety and can only tell if my time, effort, and semi-breakdowns were worth something if I complete what I set out to do.”

Not to diminish anyone who agrees or resonates with the first statement, I admire those people a lot and wish I was calm enough to feel the same.

in my years of teaching and coaching, i've noticed there are two kinds of writers: "process" writers and "product" writers. rather, there exists a spectrum from one to the other.

on the process side, you have writers who reach a flow state fairly easily, who can become immersed in a world or idea of their own invention, and they write in large part to seek that immersive state. the end of a project seems more like a tragedy than an achievement because it marks the loss of the immersive state, and it will take energy and discipline and happenstance to find the next. i've also noticed that it becomes harder rather than easier to find that state over time; the more projects you finish, the fewer ideas appeal to you in the same way.

conversely, product writers get to feel that sense of achievement upon completing a project that process writers may lack, and that pleasure is worth the pain and turmoil of the act of creating something. product writing takes a lot of strength, patience, and discipline i think, to do something hard for the reward of having done it. it's the difference between an athlete and a surgeon. a person becomes an athlete for love of the sport, the act of playing. winning is important, but they wouldn't be able to win without first finding joy in the game. a surgeon, on the other hand, probably doesn't get into the job for the fun of operating. the fulfillment is in the operation's success; it's hard work with high risk. but the reward of saving or improving lives is worth it.

admittedly as a process writer it's always been hard for me to wrap my head around product writers. not only do i not have the patience to seek a sense of achievement, i think i'm mostly incapable of relishing any reward at all unless the reward is in the pursuit itself. looking back, i can't think of any single moment i've ever felt a sense of success. but also i've always struggled with concepts like ambition and competition. i've never had any drive to win anything, but also i've never felt much when i lose or fail. sometimes i wish those things mattered more to me, because then i would be a more driven and decisive person, and i'd be more successful in my career.

i know i'm on the extreme end of the process-product divide, and that colors a lot of my perspective of teaching and mentoring. but i think writers can shift on the spectrum depending on where they're at in their writing life or even with whatever project they're working on. i've been trying to have a more product-based mentality recently to at least develop the skill of shifting to the other side when i need to, so that i can get the patience and focus to write a novel that is not just me plopping my heart onto the page and hoping somebody out there cares. product writers have an easier time convincing other people of the value of their story, because the value of the story is a big reason why they write it. a purely product writer, like the surgeon, writes something because they feel that thing needs to exist in the world. meanwhile the only way for a purely process writer to be professionally successful is to happen by sheer coincidence to find an immersive state that also crosses with the interests of the current market. like the athlete, success involves training, hard work, and being at the right place at the right time. sure, churning out 100k words in a couple months and having a blast while doing it is great, but it comes from this wild inner place that can't really be controlled; meanwhile product writers can take that wildness and intentionally shape it into something. when you're feeling jealous of the other side, though, it's important to remember that both the meadow and the garden are equally beautiful.

[kbagraces]

Curious Time - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Singer!reader

Multiple part series where their friendship was easy, their feelings were confusing and the distance was the hardest <3

(3rd person perspective)

PART 3 -

BUBBLEGUM

"It's sad because it just hurts. I'd do anything for you."

The week drawing to a close, a sad vibe lingered between the two of them. They cherished the moments they spent together, but with the final day approaching they both struggled to keep spirits high.

With both of their career paths, it was hard to fit into each other lives, but Lando's summer break ending and you preparing for the release for her next single, she knew contact would fall back to a minimum. They were both the most important people in one another's lives, even if they didn't speak for a year that would remain true, but bitter sweet.

The staycations would become day visits, turning to missed calls and sparse texts until their schedules aligned once more. She hated saying goodbye, she hated leaving him. She wished either of the jobs was less demanding but neither would ever give it up despite the toll it took on the two of them.

The final day was here. They agreed on day in bed as her flight was late and she couldn't be tired and miss it. The day was filled with hugs and sweet nothings, days like today is the only time she blurred the friendship line, when sober that is. Nothing too intimate, they'd never take it that far but her fingers would find their way into his curls as he's lying on her lap. Massaging any stress he has away, knowing it'll come flooding back as soon as she leaves.

"I wish you didn't have to go. Everything is easier with you here." He sighs. His head lifting up, sitting beside her so he can look in her eyes.

"You'll be fine in a week and you know it. Back to normal, you'll busy yourself with work and soon enough you'll be racing, you won't have time to give me a second thought." She smiles, she knows the first week is the hardest, but they're both cut from the same loaf, distract yourself with work and it soon enough goes. Until a hard day hits and all she needs is him.

"You're never a second thought and you know it. You're first in my life, always."

She could cry, she would never not in-front of him that's not fair on either of them. But God does she adore him. She couldn't live without him. "You're my favourite. I wish I could stay."

Silence takes over once more, nothing more needs to be said. An hour more of cuddling this way the sun has set the room dimly lit by the street lamps and the glow of the city.

"I need to make sure I've got all my stuff." She sighs shifting his head off her lap. Slithering out of bed, dragging herself to the room, her bags mainly packed but she likes to check then check again. She drags each bag to the front door, another quick glance over the now empty room making sure she hasn't forgotten anything.

Lando's now stood in the doorway once more, "I'll miss having your mess everywhere."

"It wasn't mess! It was so I was able to see what I brought with me!" She fires back, knowing he was only joking.

She falls into his arms, she has to leave now. He can't take her to the airport it's far too busy for the two of them to both arrive there. A mob at an airport is one way to piss the staff off before a flight.

She breathes in her scent once more, he kisses the top of her heard. "Don't go." He mumbled into her hair.

"That's not fair Lan, and you know it.", she looks up at him with sad eyes, their faces inches apart. His eyes dart between hers, he's leaning in.

He kisses her, she doesn't even comprehend before returning the kiss. Just like them laying together they fit. It's right. This feels right. So why is she pulling away, why is she pushing him away.

"We can't Lando, we can't do that. Please don't do that." Oh but I want to do that again, her heart says but her head is stronger.

He looks hurt and confused, "Why? y/n/n I know you feel it. Everyone says it. Come on." He grabs her hands pulling her close, not to kiss her again but to lessen the distance. He doesn't like how far she pulled away, he needs her close. Always.

"I can't do this Lando. Not now. Not when I'm leaving. I know what'll happen you'll promise me stuff and I'll promise you stuff. But we can't maintain it, not with the distance. And I'll lose you, one of us will get hurt and I'll lose you. I can't lose you." Tears appear in the corner of her eyes but she wipes them away before they can exit. Don't cry, dammit, she thinks.

Lando let's go of her hands now, running his own through his hair in frustration and upset. "You won't try? You won't even try? You'll never lose me no matter what. This could be good, so good and you won't try?" He's aware he sounds desperate, apart of him is. Having her here for almost a month has made him more aware of his feelings than even.

"We've never even discussed this Lando! You can't say all this as I'm about to leave!"

"I don't need to say it! I know you feel the same. It's us, I know how you feel. 'He's not you' that's what you said."

"I'd love it work Lan. I'd love nothing more. We can't even keep our friendship going for months, let alone a relationship. Please don't be angry at me. I need to in my life I don't want to risk losing you in case it doesn't work."

Lando knows in his soul it would work. There's nothing in the world he wouldn't do to make it work. He can't force her mind to change however.

"I disagree. But I can't force you. Im always yours. I'll always be yours, y/n/n. It's you." He pulls her in for a hug, her phone ringing in the background. The Uber having just arrived at the worst time.

He clears his throat, weak from holding back tears and frustration, "I'll bring ur bags down, I'll meet you down there, tell him to wait 5."

Y/n runs ahead, speaking to the Uber driver in her limited French as Lando loads up the boot. The driver gets in, sensing the goodbye should be private.

"Lan, I'm yours but it just won't work."

What does that mean? He wants to scream. He knows she wants him. That's why she rejects every man who's not him. She's shown no romantic interest in anyone else since they met, she hides behind the work excuse, because she wants him, she just won't give herself to him.

"I'll wait." He promises.

"You don't have to."

"Then how come I do?"

They hug for a little too long, the driver visibly getting impatient. They don't care. She kisses him, on the cheek this time, like she always does. He makes her promise to call him when she lands, she does but she knows he'll be asleep, and the drifting apart will begin again. It's only a matter of time.

Masterlist

[yxstxrdrxxm]

POLL RESULT—! > Do a final check on the shop. Better safe than sorry.

Although YESTERDAY had faith in themselves... They knew checking the shop again would put them at ease. If they felt that something is out of place, then they can say that they did their job early and made sure to not miss a single spot.

Taking a deep breath, they began to look around and check the shop from inside out. Sure, they wasted hours of sleep for this (and possibly some bits of themselves because they realized far, far too late of the inconvenience of boxes and unpacking), but they felt confident that they have everything prepared.

So after a final check and ascertaining that everything was in order, they turned their heels to leave to get some rest. They were confident that the first day upon opening that it wouldn't end up in... Chaos.

DAY 1

YESTERDAY was definitely in a somewhat better mood after doing their final run last night, as they were met with some pleasant faces upon opening the shop. They first met with their supplier (not suppliers, for one is on leave), Tinuvion. He was a grumpy little fella, but they can tell that he took his job seriously.

He had given them the pointers of the eatery and what to expect at the district the two were on, citing that (by his words), "there's not much competition out for the bigger floral shops down the hall, run by that sassy little lady name Chiori. I'd be cautious about getting under her radar if I were you."

Chiori is often known for her work in the textile community, but they knew damn well that she's also known in the floral community. God knows that she has a hand into weaving both fashion and flora enough that getting into the thick of the competition, much less outshining her is a crazy feat.

So here they were, speaking to one of the few customers in the shop. Some were a lot older, though, but they expressed that YESTERDAY looked far more approachable and complimented the shop's atmosphere, especially during the afternoon when the orders were getting in for the more complicated orders.

(It would seem that your choice of checking the night before helped with your newfound confidence.)

Although it was still slow, YESTERDAY kept a tally of the reviews and looked relieved to see that they were getting some people's attention. That was, until...

Di ~ ing ♪

Footsteps echoed as a new individual entered the store. Turning their head, their yellow eyes met the striking color of red.

"Excuse me, but is this Rosée Matinale?" he asked, his voice catching YESTERDAY by surprise. Perhaps they weren't anticipating someone like him to be in the store, but they put on a brave face. They can't lose their chance now.

"Of course! My name is YESTERDAY, I'm the owner. What can I do for you, sir?"

The red head seem to pause, his eyes shifting to the flowers. It was like he was trying to assess what each of them are, but he didn't knew exactly where to begin.

"I'm simply here to ask for... Recommendations," he began, his voice stressing the last word, "I'm opening up a business just down the street, across the cafe that the twin stars run. I'm sure you've seen it, have you?"

"Ah, you must mean the one ran by Aether and Lumine," they replied, nodding. "Of course. That's been the talk of the district ever since I arrived. Is there something wrong?"

Catching the hint behind the question, the stranger shakes his head.

"No, I simply wanted to know what type of flower suits best for... A cafe, in easier terms. I've been thinking of opening one as I'm a bartender, but I don't exactly know what flowers will fit, especially ones that won't be too overpowering by scent or appearance."

He pulls up a photo for YESTERDAY to look over, their brows furrowed in thought. It did look like a typical cafe, but from the interior alone, it gave the sense of light academia and openness that most lacked. It looked akin to a home than a business, if anything.

Hm...

"Do you have anything that you can suggest? I only need 2 bouquets for the lobby and tables, that's all."

YESTERDAY can only smile. This one is easy, they thought.

This poll will receive answers until 7 PM (GMT+8). Keep in mind that the majority will win, so vote what you think is right.

FLAWED TAGLIST: (send an ask to be added for Flawed!) @beloved-blaiddyd ; @mixed-kester ; @mochinon-yah ; @fffiii ; @leftdestiny-posts

[yeyinde]

Hi I am here to ask for guidance and help if you will. I'm writing a story about Price with a single mother reader but im really struggling on his characterization. I was hoping maybe you could give me some key details? (Please I've been watching scenes with just him in it for help)

hiya! this idea sounds absolutely amazing, so i'll do my best to help as much as i can! 🤩 i'm always down to talk about Price.

if it's easier, you can always DM me for more headcanons if you'd like! and i do have a SFW alphabet coming out tomorrow on him!

i read an article from Barry where he said:

"He's a storm coming. There's visceral fucking rage and energy when required [...] There's a softness at times, when he's checking in on certain people, sometimes with Farah. There's a humour to him as well, and I wanted to make sure we felt the human element that perhaps wasn't there before. But when he's required for business, there's a complete fucking shift."

and this entire thing right here set the standard for my characterisation and my take on Price!! it's the thing i come back to the most when i'm debating on what he would do/say in a particular situation.

but for a deep dive:

a very traditional man who's home life growing up was quite bad, and so a part of him yearns for his own family, but he'll never take. never pursue.

he always puts himself in the role of the villain (the one willing to get his hands dirty to spare others the same). he's quite cold on the battlefield and off: very mercurial and quick tempered. i see him def as having unresolved anger issues (and perhaps ones he can't resolve due to the nature of his job; when everything is a state secret, can you really see a therapist? if they have appointed therapists, how much of what he divulges will be reported if he's too honest?).

he's always burning hot, quick to agitate. but he isn't a hothead. for me, i see him as viewing himself as this surly, gruff man. no nonsense. utilitarian to the core. working class man with working class values.

but beneath all of that, i imagine he's quite lonely. not sad lonely, but a man who is hesitant to get close to anyone because once you chisel under his defences (and there are MANY), he is quite a teddy bear.

i think loving Price is battle. it isn't easy, and he won't make it so (he's stubborn, old-fashioned, and hardened with scar tissue so thick he can't remember when he last felt something touch his raw skin); he'll push you away constantly.

if he ever confessed to you, it would be a laundry list of his faults. full stop. he wants you to know what you're getting into: the bad, the ugly, and the terrible. he won't ever try to sway you - even if he so desperately wanted to, so there would be no grand declarations of love (not until you carve a hole inside of his thick walls big enough for you to slip through; then he's quite a clumsy romantic), or reason why you should pick him. it'll be full of reasons why you shouldn't.

on the outside: stubborn, practical, surly, gruff. on the inside, hidden behind walls and walls of grief and loss and hurt and fear: giving, greedy (in the sense that he will want all of you: no more, no less; this greed stops him from pushing for more because he doesn't want you to feel trapped like his mum), and protective.

the biggest thing stopping him from taking, from pursuing what he wants? that he's just like his father.

he's basically a sour bear. gruff and grizzled, but as soft as he can he when he finally opens up! he won't be waxing poetic, but he'll show you he cares by opening up to you. by taking you to places that have meaning to him.

and that's sort of my general personality overhaul of Price! i really hope this helps, but my interpretation of him is not canon. so, what i infer from his dialogue lines is subjective, and if you don't agree, that's perfectly fine! just write him however makes you the most comfortable!!! 🖤

[funnylittlelad]

Shelter From The Storm - steddie

Page Two

<< Page One | Series Photo Album | AO3 | Page Three >>

summary: “I’m good, nothing new really. Honestly… Is it weird to say I've been worried about you?” He laughs nervously.

Steve’s heart races in his throat. Eddie has been worried about Steve? That means Eddie would have to be thinking about Steve. Just like Steve has been thinking about him.

“Depends on why you’re worried,” he answers lightly.

Eddie’s dark eyes shift away from Steve momentarily as his mouth opens attempting to form an answer. His mouth shuts as he exhales through his nose and shifts his eyes back to Steve.

“Jack’s been talking about missing you and Max was telling me about the hours the quarry is making you pull. Been meanin’ to call, but I- uh- I don't actually have your number and taking it from the files felt weird,” he explains, glancing away every few seconds.

Steve gives him a feather soft smile. His eyes dart down to Eddie’s lips for a split second. So quick, Eddie isn't sure he saw it at all.

“Are we friends or something, Munson?” Steve teases.

wc: 13.7k

series notes/tags: Steddie Dadfic, single dad!Steve Harrington, Music Teacher!Eddie Munson, girl dad Steve, Jewish Eddie, Steve's parents are The Worst, mentions/talks about past abuse, complicated family dynamics, pretty Steve-centric, implied past suicide, talks about illness and death, Fluff, angst, mutual pining, slow burn.

The quarry very quickly proves to be worse than the lumber yard. At least at the lumber yard, Steve could get out before eight. At least he had wiggle room to see Jack. Now, he’ll go in unsure of when he’ll be getting off. It’s awful, but he needs the income. 

“Just tough it out until you can find something else. We’re here to help in the meantime,” Hopper told him one night.

Steve had come to pick up Jack so late she had fallen asleep waiting for him. Her little sleeping form brings an ache into his bones. He didn't get to say goodnight or tuck her in. Hell, Steve’s lucky to see her in the morning at this point. Not seeing Jack is honestly draining the life out of him. It’s starting to show in Jack too. She’s acting out more, getting frustrated easier, and not communicating her needs as well. Steve is at a loss. If he tries to work less, he won't be able to pay the bills. If he doesn't work less, Jack is the one suffering the consequences. He can't win. 

He’s at the grocery store as he contemplates his inevitable doom. Jack is with Grandma and Grandpa Buck, where she’s been since school let out. Steve just knew it would be easier to get the shopping done first. He’s searching for the last box of store-brand Cheerios when Eddie spots him.

There's a self-indulgent moment where Eddie takes in the beauty marks present on Steve’s hip where his shirt is pulling up as he bends to look at the back of the shelf. His shirt is gray and sweat-stained, his work pants are covered in dirt and dust, and his hair is messier than Eddie has ever seen it. It’s been a couple of weeks since Eddie’s seen Steve. Ever since he started his new job, which he’s clearly just coming from. Surprisingly, there’s no mess of red rushing around Steve’s legs or toward Eddie. It’s just Steve. Eddie goes to tap him on the shoulder, but Steve stands right before he can. 

Steve turns while reading the box of cereal in his hand and knocks right into Eddie. He would’ve toppled over entirely if not for Eddie grabbing him by his arms to steady him.

“Whoa, easy there, tiger,” Eddie chuckles at Steve’s startled expression.

Steve relaxes the moment he registers Eddie’s voice. He drops the box into the basket on his arm and offers Eddie a tired smile. Eddie sends back a warm smile as he drops his hands from Steve's arms.

“I haven't seen you in a while. How’s everything going?” Eddie asks, studying every inch of Steve he can.

Steve frowns.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I haven't been able to be the one to drop off Jack and pick her up. It’s not that I don't want to. This new job has me working pretty much non-”

“Steve,” Eddie interrupts the other man’s instant explanation, “it’s alright. Most parents don't even come into the store, they just send their kids in.”

He watches Steve’s relief flood his features. He just nods at Eddie with a tight smile. 

“So?” Eddie pushes.

“What?”

“How are you,” Eddie can't help chuckling more. 

Pink blooms across Steve’s cheeks. He’s about to give the generic I’m good, how are you? when Eddie’s dark, searching eyes pull the truth out of him. 

“I’m fucking exhausted,” he sighs.

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in pleasant surprise.

“Yeah, no offense, but you look like you just crawled out of a grave, man,” Eddie comments with a crooked smile.

Steve huffs a laugh, shakes his head, and glances down at his shoes. He feels strangely vulnerable here in front of Eddie without Jack. He feels exposed on the frontlines.

“How is Jack doing in her lessons?” He asks, taking the focus off of himself enough to feel comfortable.

Eddie notices but doesn't stop it.

“She’s amazing. Best student I have and I’m not just saying that because she’s my favorite either. Actually, I was talking to Gareth the other day. I think we could get her started on piano too. Picking it up when you know guitar makes it easier. If she's not into the keys we can try another traditional string instrument since she seems to really like those,” Eddie rambles excitedly. 

Steve’s eyes widen into two vats of liquid honey. A smile creeps up onto his lips as Eddie talks, seemingly just as excited about Jack’s potential as Steve is. 

“Piano? Would you be able to fit both in one lesson?” 

Eddie pauses to level him with a confused stare.

“No, no, they would need their own lessons, but she’s at the store often enough anyways. I figured it wouldn't take anything extra on your part,” he explains. 

“And her scholarship…,” Steve trails off insecurely, not sure how to ask.

Eddie offers him a soft, reassuring smile.

“Don't worry. She’s got a full ride to Mordor Music Academy.”

Steve nods with a deflating sort of relief. He’s truly so fucking grateful for Eddie Munson.

“How are you doing?” Steve asks.

Eddie grows bashful.

“I’m good, nothing new really. Honestly… Is it weird to say I've been worried about you?” He laughs nervously.

Steve’s heart races in his throat. Eddie has been worried about Steve? That means Eddie would have to be thinking about Steve. Just like Steve has been thinking about him. 

“Depends on why you’re worried,” he answers lightly.

Eddie’s dark eyes shift away from Steve momentarily as his mouth opens attempting to form an answer. His mouth shuts as he exhales through his nose and shifts his eyes back to Steve. 

“Jack’s been talking about missing you and Max was telling me about the hours the quarry is making you pull. Been meanin’ to call, but I- uh- I don't actually have your number, and taking it from the files felt weird,” he explains, glancing away every few seconds.

Steve gives him a feather-soft smile. His eyes dart down to Eddie’s lips for a split second. So quick, Eddie isn't sure he saw it at all. 

“Are we friends or something, Munson?” Steve teases. 

Blush races across Eddie’s face.

“I was thinkin’ we could be, yeah,” he shrugs. 

“Tell you what,” Steve looks down at the scarce amount of groceries in his basket, “Help me finish shopping and you have my permission to take my number from your files.”

“Do I have permission to call it?” Eddie raises his eyebrows at Steve.

“Yes, you have permission to call it,” Steve laughs. 

Eddie holds his ringed hand out between them.

“Got yourself a deal, Harrington.”

The metal of his rings nips Steve’s hand as they shake on it. 

“Awesome, because I told Robin I’d grab her tampons, but I didn't realize it would be more complicated than buying diapers,” he sighs.

Eddie barks out a laugh that lets butterflies loose in Steve's stomach.

“Don't you have a daughter?”

“Yeah, but she's six!”

Eddie shakes his head playfully. He scoops the basket out of Steve’s hand and loops his arm through it. He leads Steve to the aisle they need. After ten minutes, they decide on a box based on Eddie’s personal opinions on which is best for nose bleeds. It works the same way, right? Eddie asked, to which Steve shrugged.

The basket doesn't end up in Steve’s hands again the rest of the time. He’s simply in charge of grabbing what he needs while Eddie carries it and attempts to make him laugh. It’s not hard. Steve’s laughter is heard more than the ambient music being played. Eddie even brings the bags out to Steve’s car, completely forgetting the milk he was at the store to get in the first place. Steve still has the same BMW. Except now the backseat is littered with children's books, toys, snack debris, and a couple of pairs of little shoes instead of the bras of his one-night stands. 

“Hey, Steve,” Eddie says carefully after Steve closes his trunk with his groceries inside.

He looks curiously at Eddie, eyebrows knitting slightly. There are about fifty different things Eddie wants to say at this moment. He wants to tell Steve that it's okay he's tired. He wants to tell him he can see how hard he’s trying and he admires him for it. He wants to tell him that he never has to worry about Eddie thinking he’s a bad father. That's impossible.

“Take care of yourself for me,” he says instead.

“You first,” Steve replies with a fondness that leaves Eddie’s head spinning the rest of the day. 

Eddie begins checking in once a week. He always asks if Steve needs anything, and how he’s doing, and gives him updates on Jack’s piano progress. She’s catching on even faster than Eddie or Gareth anticipated. The calls prop Steve up and help keep him going. Especially the days Jack is being extra difficult, which is happening more and more the longer Steve works at the quarry. As weeks grow into months of unreasonable hours and a dead-tired Steve, Jack acts out and grows angrier.

“No,” she protests one night. 

Steve wants to cry; he's getting so frustrated. It’s been a fight to get her to go to bed for thirty minutes. Steve picked her up in her purple pjs from Hopper and Joyce, but she was far from ready to go to sleep. 

“Princess, we really need to go to sleep. That way we can be well rested for tomorrow,” he tries to reason. 

She stands on the back of the couch, back pressed to the wall. Her arms are crossed and her face scrunches in a way that's annoyingly familiar. He hates when she turns his face on him. 

“Will you be here when I wake up?” She asks.

Steve swears he can hear something tear open inside of him.

“Auntie Nance will be here-”

“No,” she shouts, “I don’t want Auntie Nance! I want you!”

His eyes burn with the threat of tears. How can he make her understand? How can he tell her he wants desperately to be the one who shares her morning with her? Even if he did explain why he couldn't say no to the work right now, she wouldn't care. Rightfully so. Jack is six, she doesn't care about whatever is stressing Steve out. She just wants her dad. 

“I know, baby, I know. I want to be here, I do-”

“No, you don’t!” She cries, effectively shattering Steve. 

“What? Of course, I do.”

“If you did then you wouldn't leave!”

Steve heaves a sigh. He runs a hand over his face as the other holds his hip. Her little face is red and tear-stained now.

“Jack, I’m really sorry, but it isn't that simple. I love you and I want to spend every minute of every day with you, but right now I can't do that. Please, let’s just go to bed. I’m gonna do my best to be here for dinner tomorrow, okay?” He pleads softly.

“Promise,” she demands, “Promise you’ll be here.”

He’s close to breaking. He’s close to sobbing at her feet and flat-out begging her to not make this harder than it is. That would be irredeemably selfish of him. He knows that. Jack is a child, she's allowed to be selfish. Especially when her whole life has been disturbed so much. She just misses her dad. God knows her dad misses her more than fucking anything.

“I- I can’t, Jack.”

Her face contorts into hurt-fueled fury. Steve has never seen so much emotion in such a small body. Then she spears him through the heart. She absolutely and completely eviscerates him. 

“I wish Eddie was my daddy, not you!”

The entire world goes quiet around him as the tears fall. Breathing is out of the question. Somehow, Steve wants to both hug and kill Eddie Munson. He’s glad his daughter has someone she feels that safe with. He hates that it isn't him right now. 

“Okay, it’s time to go to bed. Let’s go,” he pushes out past the silent stream of tears down his face. 

She shakes her head.

“Jack, let’s go.”

This time she stomps her foot.

“No, I want Eddie! I don't want you!” She shouts.

“Jacqueline Beatrice Harrington,” Steve snaps, “We are done having this conversation before we hurt each other’s feelings. We’ll try again tomorrow, okay?”

She doesn't say anything. She slides down off the couch and stomps away into the bedroom. After she slams the door, Steve allows himself to fall back onto the couch. He cries into his hands, feeling defeated and exhausted down to the bone. Jack doesn't want him to be her dad. That's his worst nightmare. He doesn't want his dad to be his dad. If Jack feels the same, what does that make him? Little sleep is had that night. He spends hours tossing and turning in the dark considering if keeping his job is worth this. When he finally does fall asleep, it's by measuring out the rhythm of Jack’s snores.

The next day a few people mill about Mordor Music. Eddie sits lazily behind the counter flipping through last month’s issue of Rolling Stone. Max isn’t in today, leaving him to do the boring stuff. He doesn't even drag his eyes away from the magazine when the phone rings. He just reaches over, fumbles around for a moment, and picks it up. 

“Mordor Music, we can't carry the ring, but we can carry you to good music,” he answers with a customer service flavor of brightness.

“Eddie?” Steve's voice responds.

The magazine is down on the counter in an instant. Eddie is pin-straight and alert.

“Yeah, what’s up? Is Jack okay?”

“Jack’s fine. I really hate to do this, but I don't have anyone el-”

“What d'you need?”

“Robin was supposed to get Jack, but she got called into work and everyone else is busy so I didn't know who else to call-”

“Steve,” Eddie cuts through Steve’s rambling, “What do you need?”

“Jack is at the station with Hopper. He was able to pick her up from school, but she can't stay there. Would you be able to bring her to the store?” He asks.

“She just got out of school? Do you want me to bring her home instead?” 

“You don't have to do that. I’ll try to get out before you go home, I swear,” Steve promises.

“Doesn't she have, like, homework and stuff? I can bring her home and stick around until you get back. It's no big deal,” Eddie assures him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don't sweat it. Does Hopper have a key I can borrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll call and let him know,” Steve sounds utterly soothed.

“Alright, I’ll be over there in fifteen.”

“Eddie… You’re really saving me right now. Shit, you've been saving me. Thank you,” Steve’s voice comes through the receiver warm and genuine. 

It nearly turns Eddie into a puddle. 

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s Jack,” he says like that explains everything. 

When talking to Steve, it certainly does. In fact, to Steve that small two-word sentence says everything. They bid a quick goodbye, not the right way despite Eddie’s efforts. He could hear Steve’s boss in the background, so he wasn't going to push it. Eddie looks around the people in the store and makes a decision. He climbs up onto the counter, scuffed-up Docs squeaking on the Formica. His hands cup around his mouth in a makeshift megaphone.

“Hey,” he bellows out to the store, “Store’s closed, get the fuck out!”

Walking into Hawkins Police Station feels like stepping into the Twilight Zone. Eddie’s been hauled in a few times on some light possession that he got warnings for and some trespassing that he didn't. A little truancy sprinkled throughout. The old woman at the front desk gives him a distasteful look.

“Can I help you?” She asks.

“Yeah, I’m here to pick up Jack from Hopper,” he tells her.

That's all he needs to say. A familiar little Eddie! rings out through the station. 

“Uh-oh, I hear trouble,” Eddie beams. 

He gives it a moment before seeing Jack come racing from Hopper’s office. She has on a tie-dye t-shirt and denim shorts. Her hair is in fiery twin braids that sit on her shoulders from beneath a backward blue baseball cap. Eddie catches her when she launches herself into him and lifts her. She attaches herself to him easily. 

“Munson,” a gruff voice greets. 

Eddie looks away from his favorite menace to find Hopper standing with his arms crossed. For a moment, Eddie feels like a caught teenager again.

“Hey, Chief, long time no see,” he offers a shy smile.

Hopper takes him in. All the ways he's different. All the ways he’s not. 

“I s’pose that's a good thing. You stayin’ out of trouble then?” He measures Eddie’s reaction carefully.

“Yes, sir.”

Hopper nods.

“You know who to call in an emergency, right, Jack?” The man asks, never taking his stern glare off Eddie. 

“You, Hop,” she answers.

“And what number do you call to get me?”

“911 because they'll tell you where to find me,” she recites dutifully.

“Why’s that?”

“‘Cause you're the police boss!”

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

Hopper’s eyebrows twitch upward to send the message home to Eddie. Eddie swallows the newfound lump in his throat and gives a short nod of understanding. Hopper’s eyes turn much softer when they land on Jack. He points a finger at her.

“You behave for Eddie, alright?” He orders.

Jack giggles, cracking the rest of Hopper’s exterior. A smile forms beneath his mustache.

“Bye Hop!” 

“See ya, sweetheart.”

Eddie doesn't think about the fact that he still has his shit van. He doesn't think about how there are no benches in the back and certainly no car seats of any kind. He doesn't think about it until Jack is looking up at him as he scratches his head trying to decide what to do. Ultimately, Jack ends up in the middle of the front bench buckled to all hell. Eddie manages to get the passenger seat belt and the middle seat belt around her. Then he drives to the address Steve gave him, never going faster than twenty miles per hour. 

Steve gets home at half past eight. He’s tired, dirty, and smells, but that gets erased momentarily when he walks through the door. Eddie is sitting cross-legged on the floor, back to the couch, with Jack curled on his lap, and a patchwork quilt wrapped around both of them. Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood plays on the TV. Both of them are entranced by the soft-spoken man. Steve takes the opportunity to look around the apartment and imagine what Eddie might see. 

He finds the dishes gone from the sink, Jack’s toys put away, and the garbage bag replaced. There are even a few pictures of baby Jack on the wall that are straightened out. All things he’s been meaning to do, but just didn't have the time or energy for. Fifty tons get lifted from Steve's shoulders at the realization that Eddie cleaned. 

“Hey,” he greets the two of them softly.

Jack’s dark eyes go wide and she hides in the blanket. Eddie flashes Steve a smile that makes Steve want to fall into pieces right there. Eddie leans down and murmurs something to Jack. Then he angles his ear to hear her, nodding. He says something else before looking at Steve again, who watches intrigued.

“Jack told me you guys had a fight last night,” Eddie informs Steve, “She told me she said some mean things that she feels really bad about. So, she’s gonna come out and apologize, but she wants to make sure you aren't still too mad to talk.”

Steve takes a seat on the brown couch next to where the two of them are on the floor. It might not be the best time, but he really wants to kiss Eddie right now. He looks so cute and domestic all wrapped up with Jack. His big doe eyes watch Steve expectantly. 

“I’m not too mad to talk,” Steve answers. 

Jack slowly appears. All Steve can see is Eddie's bust and Jack's head sticking out from the quilt. Her eyes shine like ink as she fixes Steve in a sad, apologetic stare. If he hadn't forgiven her immediately when it happened, he definitely would have forgiven her based on that look alone.

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, Daddy. I just miss you. I don't love Eddie more than you,” her little voice says quietly.

A wavering smile pops onto Steve’s lips. His eyes flash to Eddie, who is giving him an encouraging smile. He can tell Eddie helped talk her through her feelings by how he's watching. Eddie nods with proud eyes as she speaks. 

“I forgive you, princess. I miss you too. I know things suck right now, but I promise I’m going to find a job that doesn't keep me away from you,” he says softly, but earnestly. 

Jack crawls out of Eddie’s lap. Her foot gets caught in the quilt for a second. Eddie untangles it for her. She climbs into Steve’s lap and squeezes him tight. He squeezes her right back, taking in her coconut and lavender scent. The immense weight of the world is lifted from Steve’s back while in her embrace.

She spends the next half hour telling Steve all about her evening with Eddie. Turns out, cleaning was part of her apology. Eddie taught her that actions speak louder than words, but that words are still important too. Something that earns Eddie a lovely little smile from Steve. At nine Steve tucks Jack into bed. 

Eddie is hovering when Steve closes the bedroom door quietly. He nervously plays with his rings. Steve offers him a tired smile.

“So, she told me what she said to you. Steve, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t be,” Steve holds up a hand to stop him, “She’s a kid. She’s going to say things she doesn't mean. It might have hurt like a bitch, but I know it was just a lot of bunched-up emotion.”

Eddie nods slowly in consideration. There's a sort of amazed fog that settles in his eyes for a moment as he takes Steve in.

“I really can't thank you enough,” Steve says. 

“You really don't have to,” Eddie assures him.

“Let me make you dinner sometime. It’s the least I can do,” Steve insists. 

Sparks fly in Eddie’s chest. A shy smile crawls onto his face.

“Yeah, alright. You owe me dinner, Harrington,” he agrees, poking Steve in the chest. 

“You know where to find my number to set up a day,” Steve jerks his chin up at him slyly with a teasing smirk.

Eddie chuckles despite his ears going pink. A moment of silently drawing out the goodbye passes. Steve’s every sense maxes out when Eddie pulls him into a hug. It’s quick, but firm. He smells like the store. Aged records, polish for all the wood instruments, and a cinnamon-like spice that just permeates the air in there. Steve wonders if that part is Eddie alone, a part discernable from the store. A part that Steve can pick out and identify. 

“Take care of yourself for me,” Eddie says into Steve’s ear.

Steve’s face is wonderfully blotchy when Eddie steps back. He has a cute dumbstruck look about him.

“You first,” he breathes. 

Eddie is gone, leaving Steve with a pounding heart and no oxygen in his lungs. 

Jack doesn't stop asking if Eddie can come over again. Realizing he could exist anywhere, not just Mordor Music was eye-opening for her. It gets to the point where Steve has started calling Eddie just so Jack can say goodnight. At first, that's where it began and ended. Then Eddie started staying on the phone after Jack’s five-minute goodnight. 

“I gotta say goodnight to your daddy too, don't I?” He says to her on the third night.

“Daddy, Eddie wants to goodnight you,” she announces and shoves the phone at Steve. 

He takes the phone from her, placing one last kiss on her forehead.

“Hey,” he says into the receiver as he exits the room and closes the door.

“Hey,” Eddie exhales like the sound of Steve’s voice knocks the wind out of him. 

“So, you wanted to goodnight me?” Steve says playfully.

“Can't go to sleep without it,” Eddie replies.

“Alright, go ahead then.”

“What, you don't have a funny little saying to tell people goodnight you can share?” The smile in Eddie’s voice is infectious.

“Nope, you’re the one that wanted to goodnight me. Show me what you got.”

“Oh, you want to see what I got, big boy?” 

Steve is so very happy this conversation is happening over the phone. He’s sure he’s glowing red like a stoplight. His skin is buzzing and his stomach does funny little flips. 

“Real mature,” he croaks. 

Eddie’s laughter rings out like a song written just for Steve. 

“You’re not gonna help me out even a little ?” It’s clear Eddie is just dragging out the call at this point.

Steve has no intention of stopping him. Most of his conversations with Eddie happen over the phone now. He knows too well how hard hanging up is.

“No,” Steve chuckles, “You wanted to goodnight me, so goodnight me.”

“Okay, you gotta stop saying it like that,” the amusement is clear in Eddie’s voice.

Embarrassment floods Steve's entire system. It's like plunging red hot metal into a bucket of water.

“Sorry, force of habit,” he mumbles.

“No, no, it- it’s cute. Just, it’s hard to take you seriously when you talk like that.”

The smile that takes over Steve’s blushing features is inevitable. There's no fighting it even if he wanted to. 

“You think I’m cute, Munson?” He teases lightly, his heart fluttering like a hummingbird. 

He hasn't felt like this since he was a teenager. Deep down, Steve knows nothing can come of him and Eddie. Steve is a single dad with no time. Eddie may be a year older than Steve, but he’s young and single and owns a business. Why would he want to be tied down to the mess that is Steve Harrington and a kid that isn't his? Steve just wants to enjoy the feeling of the chase before Eddie eventually escapes his grasp entirely. 

“Jack had to get it from somewhere, right?”

“I’d argue that it came from her mom,” Steve chuckles.

Conversation is too easy with Eddie sometimes. Things will slip out before Steve can think about the implications. 

“You've never mentioned her mom before. I mean I knew her from school, but you don't talk about her,” Eddie comments softly.

Steve’s eyes go wide when he realizes. He tries not to think about Sarah. The conversation about Sarah being free to go her way was lost once Jack was born. Steve didn't want her for the help, he wanted her to stick around so Jack could have something close to a normal family. Something better than he had. She made it abundantly clear she wanted nothing to do with him or Jack. It really only hurt him for Jack. She deserves two parents that love her. Steve tries to give her enough for two, but he can't help feeling like he’s failing.

“Uh- yeah, she’s not really in the picture. Hasn't been since the delivery room. There’s never much reason to talk about her,” Steve explains awkwardly. 

“Jack doesn't need her anyways. She’s doing perfectly with just you.”

Again, the implications go over Steve’s head thanks to Eddie’s sweet comforting words.

“Well, she has you too now.”

The beat of loaded silence lodges a lump in Steve’s throat. He swallows quickly, trying to recover.

“I- I mean she has everyone, y’know. Rob, Hopper, Max, but she… she has you too now.”

Eddie lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Right, yeah, ‘course she does,” his voice sounds strained.

“Eddie, are you al-”

“Hey, I still have to goodnight you. Don't distract me,” he teases, but it feels a little forced. 

“Uh- yeah, alright.”

“Dream something sweet for me, yeah?”

“Guess I’ll be dreaming of you then.”

“Steve…”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for impact. He gets ready for Eddie to tell him to back off, that he doesn't feel that way about him, or that he thinks they should pull back from each other.

“Stop being so hard on yourself, okay?” Eddie’s voice is impossibly soft.

Steve melts into a puddle. 

“I’ll do my best.”

The next time Robin and Eddie hang out Eddie is a disaster. He hangs upside down on Robin’s couch in her kitschy little apartment. His hands cover his flushed face as Robin watches with an amused smirk from the armchair across the way. Her legs are folded beneath her and her hands play absentmindedly with a Rubik’s cube.

“What am I gonna do, Rob?” Eddie groans into his palms.

“I dunno, tell him how you feel?” She deadpans.

“Not a chance,” he scoffs, removing his hands to look at her.

“Why not?”

Eddie sits up but lifts his feet onto the cushion. His arms rest over his knees. 

“Don't you think he has enough to worry about without adding his daughter’s music teacher’s crush on him?” He questions. 

“Not when he also has a crush on said music teacher,” she replies evenly.

“That doesn't change the fact that he’s going through a tough time and a new relationship when he can already barely see his kid probably won't help,” he points out. 

“So, what then? Are you going to wait until he’s not going through a tough time?” 

“Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugs.

Robin sighs and puts the completed Rubik’s cube down on the coffee table between them. She sets a thoughtful, sympathetic gaze on him.

“Eddie, look, if you plan on waiting for Steve’s life to calm down or hit the brakes before you tell him how you feel… You’re going to end up waiting forever. He’s a single dad and he has been since he was eighteen. None of the past six years has been easy, or calm, or- or even peaceful. Hell, his parents kicked him out the day Jack was born! If you wait for all this shit to blow over, you're just gonna watch new shit blow into its place,” she keeps her voice gentle, delivering the reality of the situation carefully. 

The corners of Eddie’s mouth tug downward. He thinks of Steve trudging through the last six years weathering storm after storm, shielding Jack from the inclement weather with his body. The people around him have lent him cover, umbrellas, food, and water to keep them going. Eddie doesn't want to simply provide him with assistance. Eddie wants to weather the storms with them. He wants to break the clouds with his own two fists and cease the rain altogether. It’s a terrifying feeling.

“After he finds a new job I’ll tell him. I want him to focus on making time for Jack right now. I know how hard it's been on both of them,” he decides out loud. 

Robin smiles softly at Eddie. He’s everything she knows Steve needs. So much so, that he’s putting Jack first like she’s his own. Robin could hug him right now. So, she does. Eddie and Robin end up in a hugging pile on her couch. 

The next time Eddie sees Steve in person is Hopper’s birthday. He hasn't called to set up that dinner because he knew if he did he wouldn't be able to help himself. Robin drags him to the little celebration, not that it's too hard to get him there. She picks him up because she has Jack strapped into her booster seat in the back of her sedan. Of course, Jack begs Eddie to sit by her. Of course, Eddie obliges. They spend the entire ride discussing what flavor they hope the cake is. Eddie wants chocolate, but Jack wants Strawberry.

When they enter the house, Eddie has to bend at the knees so Jack doesn't knock her head where she sits on his shoulders. Her little hands hold onto his hair as she giggles madly at her new height. The younger members of the party have split off to El’s room, which isn't a surprise. Jonathan and Argyle are having a passionate discussion about chip flavors on the couch. Nancy is helping Joyce set out snacks. Hopper was watching football but stood upon their arrival. 

Eddie only lets Jack go so she can latch onto Hopper for a birthday hug. The hug doesn’t last long. She starts to squirm and Hopper has to relinquish his hold. Jack runs down the hall calling for El so they can play knights. 

“Is- uh- is Steve gonna be here?” Eddie asks the room, failing at acting casual. 

Joyce and Nancy exchange amused smiles. Robin rolls her eyes beside Eddie and plops herself down on the couch. 

“Yeah, he’ll be around later. Probably after dark,” Hopper responds as he rests back in his armchair. 

“I can bring you home and leave Jack here, though. So you don't have to wait here with us all night,” Robin offers, knowing she won't have to leave this spot.

“Don’t worry about it, I don't mind,” he waves her off. 

Eddie excuses himself to go say hi to the kids. He creeps down the carpeted hallway with the intention of scaring them. Until he’s right outside the cracked door and he can hear Jack’s voice talking. He pauses upon hearing his name.

“I really like when Eddie is around. Daddy always smiles more,” she comments somewhat offhandedly.

He feels like someone has his heart in their grip and is squeezing. Eddie has heard that kids notice everything, but Jesus Christ. 

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” Max replies, voice riddled with mirth.

“Are Steve and Eddie dating?” El asks curiously.

“I don't think Eddie would date someone like Steve,” Mike says. 

Eddie is ready to be offended but never gets the chance.

“I mean, Steve was a jock. That never really leaves you. Eddie is actually cool,” Mike adds.

“If they were dating I would know,” Dustin chimes in causing Eddie to roll his eyes with a smile, “They’re just too stupid to see they like each other.”

“They need to just kiss or something already. You should see them at the store. They get so caught up in each other it’s like I’m not even there. Besides, clearly, he’s good with Jack,” Max speaks up again sounding exasperated.

A few mumbles and sounds of agreement ring out.

“Is Eddie really ready to be a dad, though?” Mike asks with uncertainty.

“Are you kidding?” Max scoffs.

“Dude, let’s be honest. He’s been a dad since he met Jack. It was like paternal love at first sight- like-” Dustin snaps his fingers a couple of times as he thinks, then once more in success, “Dad at first sight!”

“I think Eddie would be an excellent dad,” El adds, warming Eddie's heart. 

“Eddie can be my dad?” Jack pipes up sounding entirely astonished, yet confused. 

A chorus of curses as they all remember Jack’s presence. She’s a sneaky one that knows to keep quiet while the grown-ups talk about grown-up things when they forget she’s there.

“Do you think Eddie would DM for us sometime?” Will asks.

“Are you really thinking about D&D at a time like this?” Lucas questions.

Eddie decides against scaring them. Instead, he pretends he only just got to the door. It isn't long before a ruckus can be heard from down the hall. A few muffled raised voices, some thuds, and then Jack’s delighted giggle. Hopper looks at the rest of the young people littering his living room. 

“We all agree something’s going on with Eddie and Steve, right?” He checks lazily.

“Oh, definitely, dude,” Argyle answers. 

When everyone looks at him curiously, he blinks back blankly for a moment. Argyle is around Steve and Eddie objectively the least. He splits his time between California and Indiana for school. Turns out, he’s not as dumb as he looks. 

“What? My gaydar is off the charts,” he contends as he looks at them with his perpetual smile.

“Don’t say gaydar,” Hopper grumbles and turns his attention back to the television. 

“I wouldn't say it's off the charts,” Robin snorts. 

“Oh, really?” Argyle questions, sliding his eyes over to Nancy and then back to Robin.

Robin’s eyes become wide as saucers. Her face goes crimson. When she risks a glance at Nancy, the elder Wheeler is saying something to Joyce over the dining table. Nancy must feel Robin’s eyes as she spares a look over. She smiles when she catches Robin staring, only making Robin’s current state worse.

“Okay, maybe it is off the charts,” she mumbles to herself.

Steve gets there after the cake is done. It was vanilla, to Eddie and Jack’s disappointment. Pretty much anyone who doesn't live in the Byers-Hopper household was gone except Robin, Eddie, and Jack. El, Will, and Jonathan already went to bed. When he arrives he finds Robin chatting with Joyce over coffee at the table. Hopper leans against the counter listening in, but enjoying being part of the background as he eats more cake. He sees Eddie and Jack and everything else falls away. 

Eddie is on his back on the couch, his hair pulled into a ponytail with a scrunchie. Jack is laying face down on Eddie’s stomach, her head turned so Steve can see her cute little face, and her own hair pulled into a ponytail with a scrunchie. Both of them have yellow frosting coloring the corners of their mouths. Eddie’s arms circle Jack securely as they snore together. He didn't even know Eddie would be here, but god is he happy to see him.

Hopper meanders over to where Steve is lost staring at Eddie and Jack. He nudges Steve’s arm with his elbow, giving him a small start. Steve smiles at the only real father figure he’s known. They take each other into a firm embrace.

“Happy birthday, Hop. Sorry, I’m so late,” Steve says quietly.

Hopper pats Steve on the back a couple of times before pulling away. 

“Don’t be sorry. Just glad you were able to swing by at all,” he assures him. 

“I wish it could be for longer, but,” he shifts his eyes to Jack briefly, “I should get her to bed.”

Hopper nods in agreement, looking over the two sleeping on the couch. A small chuckle rumbles in his chest but makes no sound through his closed-lip smirk.

“I can't believe she lets him hold her,” he comments with a touch of petulance. 

“I know. They’re something else, those two,” Steve says smiling as he watches them breathe in tandem. 

He takes comfort in the sight of their moving chests. Hopper watches Steve watch them. The kid has it bad. After seeing Eddie with Jack, he can't say he blames him. 

“I’ll let you wake them up. I know how she can get,” Hopper gives him one last pat on the shoulder.

Steve watches him walk back to his post. Robin throws a small wave from the table, which Steve returns. Figuring out how to extract Jack from Eddie is impossible. Steve eventually decides he just has to move Eddie’s arms. When he gently takes hold of one of Eddie’s warm wrists, Eddie’s face scrunches up. He tries to carefully move it, but Eddie only tightens his grip around Jack. His eyes blink open in confusion. 

Dark doe eyes find Steve’s soft features above them. Eddie’s face relaxes into a sleepy smile.

“Hey,” he whispers. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers back, “I kinda need my kid.”

Eddie looks down at Jack’s sleeping form. 

“I can bring her out to the car. Might be easier to not wake her up,” he says.

Steve thinks about it for a second before nodding. Robin, Hopper, and Joyce follow them out to Steve’s car. Eddie very carefully places Jack in her seat. Steve quietly directs him on how to buckle her in properly. Once Jack’s head lolls into an uncomfortable-looking position Eddie peels off his flannel and bunches it up. He sticks it between her head and shoulder to prop her up in a way that hopefully won't hurt her neck. They close the door as quietly as they can. 

“D'you want a ride home?” Steve offers Eddie.

He almost says yes before remembering Robin.

“Robin was actually gonna bring me,” he answers.

Steve’s eyes bounce around their surroundings curiously before landing back at Eddie full of amusement.

“Robin left.”

Eddie’s head whips around, sending his hair flying. Sure enough, Robin was in her car starting it up. She waves with a large smile as she peels out. He looks back at Steve with his mouth agape. Steve can't help laughing, which brings a smile to Eddie’s face. They say their goodbyes to Hopper and Joyce. Steve gives Joyce a son-like kiss on the cheek.

“Take care of yourself for me,” he tells her.

She smiles at him.

“You first,” she responds.

Steve and Hopper exchange nods. Climbing into the car without waking Jack is a carefully executed task. Eddie whispers to tell Steve how to get to his apartment. It’s on a decent side of town, in a small complex they built about a decade ago. Squat uninteresting architecture and wooden balconies face them. Steve parks the BMW in a spot Eddie says is in front of his building. He nods toward the window to signal speaking outside.

The air takes chunks out of Eddie’s bare arms, but he doesn't even consider going back for his flannel. He meets Steve around the front of the car, standing in the headlights. No words are exchanged, Steve just begins shucking off his tan work coat and hands it over to Eddie. Eddie takes it tentatively, asking if Steve is sure with his eyes.

“I run hot,” Steve shrugs.

Eddie takes the coat. It’s so thick it feels like he’s swimming in it, but it also encapsulates him in Steve’s scent. A musky, woodsy thing layered with vanilla. He warms up quickly. 

“Thanks for the ride,” Eddie says.

“It’s no problem,” Steve waves him off. 

Eddie studies him for a moment. He can see how tired Steve is. It’s practically rolling off of him. 

“How was your day?” He asks.

“Long,” Steve answers, “but getting to see you always makes it better.”

“Yeah?” Eddie flashes a smile.

“Yeah, you’re funny to look at. It gives me a good laugh,” he teases. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and gives Steve’s shoulder a playful shove. Steve chuckles. His eyes travel all over Eddie. He drinks in the Docs, the dark jeans, his coat sticking out like a sore thumb amongst all the dark colors, and how Eddie’s hair is still pulled back allowing him to see his face unobscured. There's still some icing on the corners of his mouth. Steve thinks he could spend an entire shift at the quarry taking in Eddie’s face, probably even longer. Right now, his eyes fall to his own work boots. 

“You and Jack were kind of adorable to look at sleeping on the couch together,” he says. 

“It’s easy to look adorable with Jack helping out,” Eddie shrugs with a smile, his hands stuffed in Steve’s coat pockets.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Hey,” Eddie taps Steve’s boot with his own.

Steve looks back to Eddie’s concerned face.

“Everything okay? You doing alright?”

Steve smiles adoringly. Eddie’s mouth dries at the sight.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right decision,” Steve admits with a shaky breath.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow.

“What d’you mean?”

“With Jack… Sometimes I wonder if she wouldn't have been better off with someone else. Someone who can feed her without working a job that never lets them see her,” he elaborates.

“Whoa, where is this coming from?”

“I guess seeing you two together got me thinking. I mean, she has so much love and support, but it doesn't feel like it's enough. I’m trying so hard, but I just don't think it's enough. I’m afraid I can't give her what she needs,” his voice is hushed by the end, nearly swallowed by emotion.

The thoughts tumble out of Steve's mouth before he even knows that's how he's been feeling. Once he says it he knows it's true. Eddie's rings are colder than usual against the base of Steve’s neck. His other hand cradles the side of Steve’s face. Steve leans into the touch, hungry for human contact.

“Steve, there is no one in any universe that could raise Jack better than you. You’re the best fucking dad I've ever seen. Jack’s the best fucking kid I've ever met. I mean, shit, I actually want to hang out with her! I don't know how to make you see it, but you're good at this. You’re really really good at this,” Eddie tells him earnestly. 

It feels like Steve has a gut full of pop rocks. He wants to lean forward and close the inches between them. He wants to entangle himself in Eddie Munson and intertwine him irrevocably in their lives. He doesn't. If there’s one thing Steve won't do, it’s drag someone into his mess. 

“Y’know I was afraid that I would hate her,” he says instead.

“Who? Jack?”

Steve nods.

“When she came out looking so much like Sarah, after what Sarah said, I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to look at her,” he explains softly.

“What… Did Sarah say?” Eddie asks hesitantly.

Steve frowns, but the truth comes easily. It always does with Eddie.

“I had told her she didn't have to be involved in Jack’s life, but once Jack was born… I just wanted her to have a normal family, a normal life. Sarah wasn't interested, though. She told me we ruined her life, that she regrets ever sleeping with me, and that she wished Jack was never born. I know she was probably just trying to make sure I didn't try again, but it… it fucking hurt hearing her say that about our kid- my kid .”

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes, “Fuck Sarah.”

Steve chuckles and nods in agreement.

“What made you not scared anymore?”

A nostalgic smile takes over Steve’s face.

“The first time I fed her. The whole thing: holding her, feeling her drink from the bottle, and burping her. Even though she ruined my shirt with her spit up. It was my first time really feeling like a dad and I loved it. How could I hate the reason I’m a dad in the first place?” He sounds so content as he recounts the story. 

“Lucky for you she ended up being a riot on top of that.”

Steve smiles and nods, raising his eyebrows briefly as if to say she sure is, isn't she?  

“That probably has more to do with Robin than me,” he says.

Eddie’s grip on him firms up a tad. His whole face sets sternly.

“Why do you do that?” He asks. 

“Do what?”

“Every time I say something good about Jack you start insisting it's because of someone else and not you. The way I see it, though, that's all from you. I find pieces of you in everything she does and says.”

Steve gets a sort of dumbstruck look about him. 

“Thank you,” he breathes because it's all he can muster.

The smile that crawls onto Eddie’s face seals the deal. Steve fucking likes Eddie Munson. He's enthralled by him. He never wants to be without him. All feelings that are much too big for him to take on after a fourteen-hour shift. 

“No need to thank me, Harrington. I’m just tellin’ you the truth. Hey-” Eddie presses the top of his forehead to Steve’s so he has to look at him through his eyelashes, “dream something sweet for me, yeah?”

Steve smiles, eyelids drooping as the proximity intoxicates him. 

“Guess I’ll be dreaming of you then,” Steve replies, voice low. 

“See ya there, big boy,” Eddie drawls.

Then he’s gone. Steve is left with nothing but the cold and the image of Eddie’s shrinking form as he jogs to his apartment building. He throws Steve one last smile before disappearing into the building. With a sigh, Steve gets back in the car. Jack is still sound asleep. It isn't until he’s home in bed that he realizes Eddie still has his coat.

Mornings with Jack are the best. Getting to sleep in is great, but waking up is better. Their room isn't grand by any means. Jack’s little bed is pushed against one wall while Steve’s is pushed against another. The closet and most of the dresser are occupied by Jack’s clothes. Her toys are tossed into her toy chest. Four different size wall decals of bats stick to the wall next to her bed. She found them in the dollar section around Halloween last year and fell in love. He couldn't say no to her pleaaaaaase. Now she refuses to take them down because they remind her of the intro to Scooby Doo Where Are You? and a little stuffed fruitbat she has.

When Jack gets up before him, she climbs into his bed. He always wakes when he feels the bed sink, but keeps his eyes closed. She goes to start shaking him. Once her hands meet his shoulder, Steve shoots up with a graaah! and snatches her. She shrieks which turns into laughter as Steve tickles the life out of her in his lap. After she’s sufficiently tickled he lets her tackle him back into the bed with a smile. 

“Cuddle time!” She declares happily. 

Steve chuckles but agrees. They could both use some cuddle time right about now. She essentially disappears into his chest, he strokes her back the way he knows soothes her no matter the situation and revels in the feeling of his daughter’s love. Moments like these are when he stops doubting. He stops seeing only the ways he’s failing. His attention gets drawn to everything he's doing right. At least, everything he must be doing right to warrant such a sweet girl’s affection. It isn't long before she's once again snoring, bringing a content smile to Steve’s face.

The phone starts to ring from the bedside table. Steve fumbles for it before it wakes Jack, but he ends up wishing he didn't. His boss needs him to come in. One of the other guys got injured on the job. He tries to say no, he really does. It’s to no avail. He’s their last resort. 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself once he hangs up. 

He runs a hand over his tired face. Is a lazy morning sleeping in with his kid really too much to ask for? She looks at ease sleeping on him. It breaks his heart to have to go. It aches so deep Steve wonders if the ache was always there. He manages to successfully extract himself without waking Jack. He pulls his comforter over her little body and goes out to the living area. 

Steve calls everyone. Everyone. No one can come to watch Jack. No one can come to get her in time for him to leave. Steve is fucked. He sighs on the couch, staring at the phone in his hand, and makes a decision. A decision he never wanted to have to make, but that he knows he can. 

“Yeah,” Eddie answers, voice thick with sleep. 

“Hey, I’m really sorry to wake you,” Steve greets softly.

“Is everything okay? Is Jack okay?” Eddie asks immediately, sounding more alert.

A fond smile grows on Steve’s lips. Eddie always asks about Jack when he hears unexpectedly from Steve. Something that makes Steve’s heart soar.

“Jack’s okay, but she's actually why I’m calling…”

“What d’you need?”

Steve gets a rush of Deja Vu. Eddie is so quick to offer his help.

“I got called into work and no one else can watch her today. If it's too much, I get it, you really don't ha-”

“Pass up a whole day with Jack? Are you crazy? When should I come over?”

The relief is tangible on Steve’s body. Watching Jack for a few hours is much different than an entire day. He was afraid Eddie would be hesitant or that even asking would be too much. Eddie shows up not too long after wearing Steve’s coat and a smile. He offers the coat back, but Steve refuses because it looks better on you anyways. He shrugs the coat back on with pink cheeks. Before he does, Steve notices Eddie’s usual Mordor Music shirt is replaced by an old band one that Steve swears he remembers from high school. There's a dark long sleeve layered beneath it.

“I can't even begin to tell you how amazing you are for this,” Steve tells him by the door. 

“I wouldn't stop you from tryin’,” Eddie smiles teasingly. 

Steve rolls his eyes playfully.

“Remember, everyone’s numbers are-”

“On the fridge, I know.”

“Right, and she needs-”

“To eat breakfast and take a bath. Steve, I got this. I promise.”

Steve spends likely too long studying Eddie’s face. Every softly rounded feature, the shape of his unfairly plump lips, and those giant coffee brown eyes that are so much like Jack’s. He nods, no doubt in his mind that Eddie does indeed have this handled.

“I know. I know, you’ll do great. I’m gonna do everything I can to be home by six.”

“I’ll be waiting in an apron with a piping hot dinner,” Eddie smiles, inching into Steve's personal space.

Steve doesn't move to reinstate the space. He accepts Eddie’s intrusion effortlessly.

“Aren't I supposed to be the one making you dinner,” he points out.

His playfulness only partially masks the edge of hurt from Eddie’s failure to call. Eddie pouts dramatically. 

“What, Harrington, not into the whole dutiful housewife thing? Woulda pegged you for the type back in school.”

Steve chuckles because Eddie is right. In school, he was the type to be into the whole dutiful housewife thing. He honestly feels silly for it in retrospect. Now, all he really wants is a partner, whatever shape that may take. He just wants someone to tackle life with. 

“Yeah, well, back in school I was. I think I grew out of that when Jack was born. Grew out of a lotta things when Jack was born,” he says with a shrug. 

“Did you grow into anything new?”

“If you want to know my type you can just ask,” Steve teases, looking through his lashes at where Eddie’s boyish smile is angled toward him.

“Alright, then, what's your deal, Harrington? You still chasing after the Nancy Wheelers of the world?” He asks playfully. 

Steve can't help breathing out a small laugh.

“No, I think I've gotten my fill of that. I dunno if I can really pin down a type, but I seem to have a thing for curly hair,” he smirks.

Eddie straightens out automatically. His wide eyes bore into Steve. He clears his throat before pushing forward.

“You do?” 

“Look at my track record. There’s Joann Rogers in eighth grade, big curly hair. Then Sarah the summer before senior year. Nancy, the first month or so of senior year before we knew Sarah was pregnant. Enough flings in between to earn me a reputation. And now… Well, I don't think it's something that's changed much,” he becomes less confident by the end.

And now you was so close to falling from his lips. He almost wishes it had. Eddie looks like he’s short-circuiting either way. His watch beeping reminds Steve he’s meant to be heading to work. The apartment is so much harder to leave now that both Jack and Eddie are in it. He goes to say his goodbye the right way, but Eddie must read it on him. Like always, he beats Steve to the first line. The only one to ever do so. 

“Take care of yourself for me,” his voice is low, silky in a way that sends shivers across Steve’s skin.

“You first,” Steve answers breathlessly. 

Eddie allows himself to take in the bedroom when he quietly steps inside. He hasn't seen it before. The room makes his heart clench. Eddie feels a little dumb for not realizing Steve and Jack share a room. He knows the one door is a closet. He knows the other is the bathroom. How did the fact that there are only three doors escape him? It looks mostly like Jack’s room with the exception of Steve’s bed pushed to one corner. 

In a few short years, he knows Steve will be sleeping on the couch to give Jack her own room. Just like Wayne did for Eddie. Even if it hurts his body after hours of labor. Just like it did to Wayne. It strikes Eddie how similar a situation Steve has found himself in compared to Eddie’s childhood but in his adulthood. Only, he isn't experiencing it from Eddie’s perspective. He’s experiencing it from Wayne’s. Wayne didn't have nearly as much help. Eddie makes a mental note to call him later. Maybe visit the trailer tomorrow. It’s always been easier for Eddie to find time to get to Wayne than the other way around. Not that Wayne doesn't try. Eddie just usually likes to make his life easier by being the one to make the short trip.

He spots Jack in Steve’s bed. She looks so cozy curled up under his big hideous plaid comforter. Eddie doesn't want to wake her. He told Steve he would get her routine done, though. Steve had warned him that she’ll sleep until the afternoon if he doesn't wake her, regardless of when she went to bed. Jack runs on her own clock unless someone is there to keep her on track. Her eyes blink open when Eddie gives her arm a little shake. She looks around confused for a moment before her eyes land on Eddie. Her eyebrows knit as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“Eddie?” She asks in a tiny raspy voice. 

“G’morning, princess,” he says tenderly.

Eddie expects her to ask where Steve is. He expects her to get a little mad that her dad had to leave when she thought he would be home. She doesn't, though. She just crawls into Eddie’s lap and nuzzles into his chest. It's so cute he could die. He scoops her up and carries her to the kitchen. There's a small table with three chairs around it against the wall below a framed image of Steve and baby Jack. He sets her down on a chair with a cushion on it that he can assume is meant to help her reach the table better.

“What’d’you want for breakfast, sleepy head?” He asks, using his folded forearms to lean against the empty chair across from her.

Jack looks at him strangely. Her face contorts into something similar to what Eddie looks like when he's asked to do Geometry.

“I always eat dinosaur soup,” she tells him as if he should know.

Eddie chuckles lightly.

“I think I’m gonna need you to help me out a little. What’s in dinosaur soup?” 

“Dinosaur eggs,” she shrugs, throwing a tiny bit of attitude like she doesn't know why Eddie is asking her.

It causes him to blink at her in confusion for a moment. He chalks it up to her being upset Steve is gone and pushes forward.

“Okay… yeah, sure, I guess that makes sense for something called dinosaur soup. Uh- is there anything else in it?” He tries.

“The mushy cereal.”

That makes the lightbulb turn on above his head.

“Oh!” He exclaims in excitement. 

He quickly raids through the small number of cabinets to find a box. He finds it above the fridge and holds it up for her to see triumphantly. She nods like it's a business meeting.

“Dinosaur soup,” she confirms.

Eddie makes her a packet of dinosaur egg instant oatmeal. It’s normal brown sugar oatmeal with the addition of little dinosaur eggs scattered about. He serves it to her with a cheerful bon appetit. She hunts down the little dinos that hatch from the sugar eggs first and then shovels the oatmeal into her mouth once she can't find any more. The entire time Eddie receives strange glances and confused eyebrows from her.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Eddie asks after catching her eyes a dozen or so times.

She shakes her head no.

“What is it then? Why d’you keep looking at me like that?” 

Her eyebrows knit in a way that makes Eddie see Steve. He’s seen this expression countless times now. That look tells him the gears are turning behind her eyes but she isn't sure if she can ask. She does ask, as she always does, and the question nearly floors Eddie.

“Are you my daddy now?”

His eyes have likely never been wider. His mouth opens and closes a few times struggling through the shock. How the fuck is he supposed to navigate this? How is he supposed to navigate it over breakfast?

“Uh- n-no, your daddy had to go to work for a little bit. I’m just watching you like Auntie Rob does,” he answers. 

Her eyebrows furrow further.

“But you’re dressed like him,” she points out.

Eddie looks down at the coat he’s still in. His face lights up red as he stumbles over his words some more.

“Well, y-yeah, I’m wearing his coat, but I’m only borrowing it. Why do you think I’m your daddy now?” 

She shrugs and pushes her oatmeal around a little.

“Dusty said you can be my daddy, but if you're my daddy then does that mean daddy isn't?” Her lip starts to tremble.

Everything clicks in Eddie’s head. He could kill Dustin. She woke up and had Steve. She went back to sleep, woke up again, and found Eddie in Steve’s clothing. With Dustin’s words floating around her head, no wonder she’s been so confused. 

“Oh, sweet girl, no. Dustin didn't mean that. Your dad and I, we… we’re just really good friends. Your daddy will always be your daddy. No one can change that,” he assures her.

“Could you be my daddy too?” She asks with wide wondering eyes.

Her eyes are so dark Eddie can see his reflection in them. He looks totally flustered. 

“I- uh- I-I don't know,” he answers honestly. 

“Are you only allowed to have a daddy and a mom?” 

“Jesus Christ, you really have a lot on your mind this morning,” Eddie mumbles mostly to himself, running his hands over his face.

Jack just blinks at him, waiting for an answer. Eddie feels like a train barrelling full steam ahead toward a collapsed bridge. Is this how Steve always feels?

“Well- no, some people have two moms or two daddies. Some people only have one and some people… don't have either,” he cringes at himself.

This really doesn't feel like a conversation he should be having with someone else’s kid. It definitely isn't one he knows how to have. 

“Oh,” a thoughtful expression takes over her features, “okay.”

Eddie waits for more, but she finishes eating quietly. He watches her, seeing fragments of everyone who loves her in her movements and expressions. Everyone, but himself. It admittedly hurts more than he’s expecting. He spends a lot of time with Jack between her lessons and Max bringing her in for her shifts at least twice a week now. At this point, Jack might know their inventory better than he does. She seems to like him, he thinks. So, why isn't he represented in her repertoire of other people’s habits?

Bathtime isn't a complete nightmare. Eddie keeps nervously asking her what’s next and how Steve does it. He’s touched to see some of the products he told Steve about lining the tub. He finds a normal hair brush next to all of it, causing him to frown. Without much thought, he digs through the bathroom drawers until he finds a wide tooth comb. He knew Steve had to have one with the way he does his hair. Jack is calm when he washes her hair. Eddie takes note of what products are missing and adds them to his own mental grocery list. 

“You have a shirt for your head?” He asks her.

“Shirts are for your body, silly,” she giggles in response.

Eddie can't help smiling and chuckling along. He runs to the bedroom and grabs one of Steve's clean plain shirts. He uses it to wrap up her hair. She lets him curiously, loving the end result.

“It's like a beehive on my head!” 

Then came the hard part. Getting her out of the tub. She doesn't want to budge. She wants to continue playing with her bath markers, the only time she's allowed to write on the wall. Eddie would be happy to let her, but she’s already going pruney and he has to get to the store eventually. He ends up wrapping her in a towel and throwing her over his shoulder kicking and screaming. He doesn't like it, but it works. 

“I’m mad at you,” she grumbles and turns away from him, still wrapped in her towel.

She looks like a little soft-serve ice cream cone standing in the middle of the room between the beds. It never ceases to impress Eddie how clearly and freely she can articulate her feelings. It’s just one thing in the big book of things that makes Steve the best dad ever. 

“I know, I’m sorry. We gotta get you dressed, though. Don't you wanna go play music?” He entices.

She looks halfway over her shoulder. Eddie raises his eyebrows at her and tucks his chin in with big eyes. He stands across the room near the dresser pushed against the wall. Beside it are wooden sliding doors he knows must be the closet. 

“No scales?” She checks.

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head.

“No scales, cross my heart,” he promises and draws an x over his heart with his finger 

This wins her over. She seems to forget she was mad at Eddie at all. Now, Eddie just has to figure out what to dress her in. He tries to think about past outfits he’s seen her in. He doesn't want the mismatched messes Robin throws together, nor the mini-me outfits Max creates. He wants it to look like Steve dressed her because that’s when she looks the most like herself. 

“How does your daddy usually dress you? Does he pick out the clothes or let you pick?” Eddie consults Jack. 

She simply shrugs. Eddie sighs.

“Alright, I guess I’m just gonna do it my way,” he mumbles to himself.

He digs through the closet and Jack’s drawers in the dresser to come up with options.

“Which shirt?” He holds up a black crewneck and a green long sleeve with a graphic of a t-rex just in case dinosaurs are a theme today.

She points at the crewneck. Eddie nods and puts both down on Steve’s bed, the crew neck off to the side. He repeats this process with her pants, socks, and shoes. She ends up in the crewneck, a medium-wash pair of jeans, and her black vans. They seem to be her favorite. When he’s done he examines the outfit and decides to add something. He pulls her Mordor Music shirt over the crewneck to layer it. She beams when she sees the final product.

“Now I look kinda like you!” She exclaims happily.

Eddie chuckles and agrees. Next is the part he’s really been dreading. Her hair. Jack sits on the closed toilet while Eddie collects the products he needs. He adds some styling products to his mental grocery list. The good news is there’s a leave-in conditioner and curl cream. 

“Okay, I dunno how daddy usually does your hair, but I’m probably gonna do it a little differently. If I promise you it won't hurt, will you sit still for me?” He calmly bargains. 

She considers him for a moment. Eddie is about to start bribing when she nods in agreement. Maybe it's because his hair is so similar to her own, but it feels nice that she trusts him. He takes the t-shirt off her head, allowing the still-sopping wet mess that's her hair to fall down. She giggles as it covers her face. Eddie gets to work by first detangling her hair with the detangler and his fingers. They move gently through her hair, carefully pulling apart every knot he comes upon without causing her to even flinch. Then he combs the leave-in conditioner in her hair. Her eyes go wide when the comb glides effortlessly through the locks. 

“It didn't hurt,” she says.

“I told you it wouldn't,” Eddie smiles.

“Can you always do my hair?”

“I wish I could, princess. I can teach your dad how to do it this way, though. No more painful knots for my girl,” it slips out.

His face goes red as he processes what he said. My girl. Except, she isn't his girl. She isn't his kid. Eddie tells himself he just got swept up in the role. He got carried away. That's what it is. It isn't a hole she’s filling that he didn't even know was there. It isn't the absolute certainty that he would do anything for this little girl. It’s definitely not the way he feels about her dad and the fantasies he falls asleep to of the three of them walking through the park. Jack is always between Steve and Eddie as they hold her hands and swing her on a count of three as they walk. It isn't any of that, though. He just got carried away.

She laughs at the funny sound her hair makes when he scrunches the cream into it. When he’s done he steps back and holds out his hands with a ta-da! It still has to dry, but he can already tell her hair is the most defined and moisturized he’s seen it look. Everything is going great. Jack let him do her hair. She’s fed, bathed, and dressed. All he has to do is get her strapped into her seat and-

Eddie freezes in his tracks as he looks for his keys. Her seat. Eddie doesn't have a seat. He doesn't even have a backseat for a booster seat. Shit. He cringes as he turns to look at Jack. She stands behind him, waiting to go play her music. Okay, Max, he thinks. She should be out of her appointment by now. He hates having to call her for help, but he can't drive Jack all the way to Mordor Music in his van. 

“‘Sup, Freak,” she answers on the third ring. 

“Would you be able to give me a ride into the store?” He asks without prelude.

“What’s wrong with your van?”

“I can't put Jack in it.”

“Wait, you have Jack?” 

Eddie’s eyes move to Jack’s dark curious ones. 

“Yeah, why is that so hard to believe?” He questions defensively.

“Steve just must've been desperate this morning, that's all,” there's a shrug in her tone.

“If you're suggesting I’m not fit to watch a kid, I’ll have you know-” 

“It’s not that, you dummy. It’s because Steve actually really likes you. Asking you to watch Jack for a couple of hours is a lot different than handing her off for the entire day. He probably agonized over it for thirty minutes,” she explains. 

“Can you come get us or not? Or swap cars with me for the day?” Eddie diverts the conversation back to the task at hand.

He doesn't want to dwell too hard on Steve actually really liking him. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there in five. I’m assuming you're at Steve’s?”

“Yep. Thanks, you're a lifesaver.”

“I know.”

He hangs up and goes to happily tell Jack Max will be picking them up. Except Jack is no longer there. He spins around looking, but she’s nowhere. Where could she have gone? And right now? 

“Jack,” Eddie calls.

No answer. He peers under every table that could fit her. Nothing. He checks the bathroom and then the bedroom. Nothing. She’s seemingly disappeared. Panic begins to rise in Eddie’s chest despite knowing she couldn't have gotten out of the apartment. He calls her again, hoping to hear a shuffle, a giggle, literally anything. Silence clouds the apartment. Eddie begins checking everywhere. Even in the dumb places she couldn't be like the cutlery drawer. Just to be extra sure. 

Max beeps to announce her arrival, but Eddie doesn't hear it. He’s too busy panicking and ripping the cushions off the couch, loudly ordering Jack to come back out. A quick, loud knock on the door startles him. He frantically whips it open to see an equally startled Max.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” She asks.

“I can't find her.”

“What?”

“Jack! Sh- She was there and then it was like I blinked and now I can't find her! She couldn't have left, right? She has to be in the apartment?” His desperation can't be hidden. 

Max holds out her hands in a signal for Eddie to calm down. She has an amused little smirk on, which aids in the process. If she’s not panicking then he doesn't need to be either. 

“It's okay, she does this. She’s testing her limits with you,” she assures him.

“What?” 

She gestures for him to step aside and let her in. He does so, watching her close the door loudly.

“She's been weirdly difficult, maybe giving a little bit of an attitude?” Max raises her eyebrows. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It's your first time watching her. She’s seeing what she can get away with, seeing where the boundaries are.”

Eddie is surprised to find himself a little annoyed. She’s been giving him trouble on purpose. Jack has been testing him. Jesus, have I been passing? he thinks. Has he been handling everything right? 

“Alright, menace,” Max calls out, “You have five seconds to reveal yourself before I call the Boogeyman on you.”

Eddie gives her a questioning look. She shrugs. It works, though. Jack comes speeding out of the bedroom. She slams into Max and hugs her. Max chuckles and hugs her back. Eddie sighs and runs a hand over his face. 

“Your hair looks so pretty!” Max compliments.

“Eddie did it!” She tells her excitedly.

Max gives him an impressed smile-nod combo. After everything, they end up ten minutes late to opening. Which means ten minutes late for his first lesson. He apologizes profusely to the annoyed mother who was waiting with her pre-teen son. When she spots Jack behind the counter with big headphones on as she bangs away on electric keys her face softens into understanding.

“Difficult morning?” She asks, nodding toward Jack.

Eddie glances over his shoulder at her. He sighs and nods.

“You can say that.”

“How old is she?”

“Six. She’ll be seven in April,” a smile appears on his lips as he talks.

There’s really no need to specify when her birthday is. It's late October now, but it's hard not to share everything he knows about Jack. She’s amazing and everyone should know. 

“I remember that age. Can never tell when a tantrum is around the corner,” she chuckles.

“She's usually really good. Fairly tantrum-free, but… I guess every kid has their day,” he shrugs.

“They certainly do. When mine had a bad morning around that age, I would offer them peanut butter and apple slices,” she tells him.

“Peanut butter and apple slices?”

“Yeah, it takes them a little to eat, so they have a minute to sit with their emotions. Plus, it's crunchy and sometimes just crunching really loud on something makes them feel better.”

Eddie nods, intrigued by this random knowledge she's sharing.

“What do you do now?” She asks.

The question catches him off guard. Frankly, it confuses the hell out of him. 

“Uh- I run this place and teach music to-”

“No,” she laughs and shakes her head, “I mean with your daughter when she has a bad morning.”

An entire ocean’s worth of emotion washes over Eddie. Your daughter. Why do two words feel like they hold a universe of meaning? His entire being aches with the fact that he can't claim her. He can't take any credit for any part of her. She’s just this really amazing kid whose dad he’s head over heels for. Knowing what he knows about her mother, he wishes he could be what makes up the other half of her. Not someone who wanted nothing to do with her, but someone who is completely crazy about her and wants to watch her grow. 

“Oh… Um, well, this morning I bribed her with the piano when she didn't want to get dressed,” he says weakly. 

He knows he should correct her, but wouldn't that just complicate the conversation more? The woman smiles in amusement and nods.

“Been there.”

She says goodbye to her son and finally leaves. Eddie catches Max’s eye as he goes by. She definitely heard. She hears everything in this place. An inscrutable set of her eyebrows makes it clear she heard. He frowns, shame settling into his gut. 

Steve comes in with a tired smile half past six. Max sits and Eddie stands behind the counter. Jack is rolling around a set of Eddie’s dice on the floor. He throws Eddie an inquisitive glance.

“She likes’em,” he shrugs.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

Upon hearing Steve, Jack zooms up and over to him squealing. Steve is poised to catch her when she launches into him. She wraps herself around him like always. 

“No worries, she wasn't any trouble. Well, after scaring me half to death this morning,” Eddie says with a smile. 

Steve arches an eyebrow at her. Eddie can't see her face, only the curls bouncing on the back of her head. He does see Steve's deadpan stare at him, though.

“What?”

“She’s been spending too much time with you,” he states. 

“What?” Eddie guffaws. 

“She just did this annoying little smile you always do when you’re caught doing something, but you think it's funny.”

“That's specific,” Eddie scoffs in disbelief.

“No, with you that's a pretty common look,” Max interjects boredly. 

Something lights up in Eddie. Jack made one of his faces. One of his signature smiles. He becomes light as air. Maybe he can take credit for a bit of Jack, no matter how minuscule. He can look at her and say there! That part’s me! That part of this amazing little person comes from me!

Eddie talks to Steve about the day on the phone later that night. This way Jack is asleep and they can talk uninterrupted. He tells him about the tantrum, the hiding, and the dinosaur soup conversation. He hesitates when it comes to her asking if Eddie was her new dad. What if it just hurts Steve’s feelings? There's history to consider. 

“She- uh- she asked me this morning if I was her new daddy,” he chuckled nervously.

“Oh,” is all Steve says.

“I think she was just confused because of something stupid Dustin said and then I was wearing your coat. After that she asked if you're only allowed to have a mom and dad…,” he trails off, anxious to say his response.

“What did you tell her?”

Eddie sucks his bottom lip in with his breath. He exhales and swallows his nerves.

“I told her some people have two moms, or two dads, or just one, or neither. I’m really sorry if I crossed a line,” he rushes out.

“Why would you have crossed a line?” Steve sounds confused.

“I dunno… you know how some people get.”

“And you think I’m some people?” There’s a teasing edge to the question.

Eddie rolls his eyes but smiles.

“No, I don't. I really don't.”

“Good. Thank you, for answering her honestly like that. I try to be as honest as is appropriate with a six-year-old,” Steve says.

“Honesty’s the best policy.”

Each word hangs in the air as if taunting them with their irony. Honesty’s the best policy unless that means being honest about your feelings apparently. 

“I got an interview next week,” Steve tells him.

Eddie’s heart races with all the possibilities.

“Where?”

“Nothing fancy. Custodian work at the community college, but the hours are set. They're normal. The pay is better. There are benefits. It could be really good for us, Eds,” Steve sighs hopefully. 

Eddie tries not to cling to those particular words. It could be really good for us, Eds. He knows Steve doesn't mean him, but he wants him to. He wants him to so badly.

“That's amazing, Steve!”

“Yeah… and if I get it I could take a couple courses, maybe start working towards a degree,” he suggests timidly as if he fears Eddie's criticism.

“I think that sounds like a really good idea,” Eddie replies honestly and excitedly.

“Yeah?” Steve’s smile is clear as day in his voice.

Eddie’s own smile widens at the sound.

“Yeah, absolutely! If you need someone to watch Jack while you go to the interview, I’m happy to do it,” he offers. 

“You’re too good to me, Munson,” Steve chuckles bashfully.

“Nah, I’m not good enough to you, Harrington. You deserve more than I can give you.”

The words have an unintended impact. Steve wonders if that means he was right. Eddie may like him, but he doesn't want to be with him. He doesn't want to be with Jack. Steve feels his heart shred in his chest. It doesn't come as a surprise though. After all, who would really want a single teen dad?

<<Page One | Series Photo Album | AO3 | Page Three>>

[tomorrowingray]

Hi all, this one was the last for a while, I'll be taking a break. I've been working a lot on building a darkroom (and I started a new job back in September), so I had less free time to shoot. I want to take the holiday season to shoot some more photos again! I hope to be back here in January.

Now that the darkroom is more or less ready, I want to experiment with shifting my usual workflow from just scanning and processing in computer to doing things more in the old way. Of course I want to make a lot more prints - should be a lot easier now that I don't have to do it in the bathroom - but I've been thinking about dabbling in an end-to-end analog workflow with contact prints and all.

As I've been shooting more large format, and I'll be taking more time to work in the darkroom, I'll likely have a decreased capacity in terms of raw output of photographs, but I think that may not be such a bad thing. It may be time to focus a bit more on quality than quantity.

I definitely want to keep posting my work here regularly, but it may happen that there won't be a new photo every single day. We'll see how it goes.

Thanks for following me so far, and see you soon!

[recolourrhys]

1 and 14 for the ask game please!

1. Show your most recent wip

Well. That would be a redraw I'm doing of a piece from the summer bc Rory's design has changed a lot LMAO I haven't started anything "new" yet!!

OC art gets posted to @digirhys bc I keep this acct just for fanworks!✌🏻 so that's where the final for this will go (a cropped version at least. The full will go on cohost)

14. How has your art changed over the years?

Oh boy. In almost every way possible, I think!! Save that I am still keenly focused on character art, from my love of storytelling :0

From a technical aspect my art has of course changed and improved tremendously from when I started drawing when I was still single digits lol the inevitable outcome of never really Stopping Drawing :V

I don't have records of old traditional art as much, so the oldest art I have that isn't toddler art was from when I was around 11-12 – those aren't these lol but I started using dA when I was a young teen, so I have those as archives of what I was doing digitally (the left group of drawings are from that first dA acct, as far back as when I was 14 :Y

I think on the more con/critical side of things, my creativity has been severely stunted. In part I think that's a natural progression of thinking as I've aged, but one I know can be combated! It just takes an active effort and approach to work creativity and whimsy like a muscle, and that's something I know I haven't done a great job of :'3

It's bittersweet looking at old art where I can see how much fun I was having and how there were no inhibitions, no worrying about things being OP or cringe or "Mary sue". It's heartwarming being able to see that passion in my own art, and simultaneously i feel a bit guilty n ashamed that I've let a lot of it get worn out of me by Life, in part by things out of my control;;;;;

It is DIFFICULT to throw those cares aside again! Almost all of the storytelling I used to do was in collaboration with friends I fell out with, and it was a bit of a slap in the face to realize last year/during 2023 that I never really told stories or built characters on my own, and it's been hard for me to find that joy and passion. I loved what I was doing with friends and miss that feeling of community, but I think it's important and I want to learn how to create and tell stories primarily for myself now, too. What's been most difficult initially is fighting against a feeling of embarrassment just while simply brainstorming – it was a lot easier to throw caution to the wind and just revel in the Fun of Creating Whatever when surrounded by ppl making things with me with the same abandon!! TTwTT when we're all having a good time who cares if anyone else thinks it's silly, yanno?

I haven't quite figured it out, but that's one of my goals this year. I love doing fan stuff too when the inspiration strikes but I definitely want to put more energy into working on My Art, and figuring out what stories I want to tell and the characters involved. I think it'll be a big step, making the effort to make that shift, in helping to further heal my relationship w art in general and continuing to relearn how to love it and the messy, sometimes frustrating processes :'3

[dabihawksluvr]

[ I Need Help ] - Questions/Updates

I am having to answer a lot of the same questions, so I am making this post to allow myself breathing room (plus I've posted about this on at least three forums and I just wanna keep it nice and tidy for my scatterbrained mind).

If you clicked on the link for this, thank you <3

It really helps me out a lot, if I have any donations set up they'll be right here. Not requiring anyone to give me money, but it'll be greatly appreciated.

(( UPDATE: My Paypal is - paypal.com/ViceSenpaii ))

Here is the gist of the situation: I have 6 months to find a job, or my brother will kick me out. But I am disabled, and my shit-hole of a town only has the 'hard labor' kind of work. So I have been looking for online jobs that I can do, but they are all low acceptance or a scam. So I've been scrambling to find something, I have had others give me advice and one kind soul did give me a job referral. But it's been a week, and I haven't had anything pop up.

(( All the questions and their answers will be under the 'continue reading' tab, just to keep this post from being too big. ))

#1: Have you tried disability/benefits?

I have, numerous times. I have been trying for it since I was 16, and every 2-3 years I try re-applying. But so far, I have been denied disability every single time. Though I did have benefits for a long while (co-joined with my mom until her passing), that ran out too and they always tried just forcing me into a job only to see I wasn't able to keep up with everything they wanted me to. Now, I am told my brother makes 'too much' from his job for me to apply for disability anyways. And my state is supposed to be one of the 'easier' ones to get disability in too.

#2: What are your disabilities?

It is mostly mental disabilities, but ever since 2020 I have had a few physical disabilities because I got Covid and almost died from it.

I have been currently diagnosed with - ADHD, BPD, Severe Depression, Severe Anxiety, PTSD, Type 2 Diabetes, and CHF (Congestive Heart Failure).

#3: Have you spoken to a doctor/therapist about any of this?

I have, several times. And I know my records are out there, but currently I do not have any copies as they were accidentally thrown away almost two years ago (2022). I was told by my doctor I very well may need a caretaker due to my disabilities, and they got my paperwork seen in a month rather than 6-12. But, even their words and support did not change anything for my case. And my case worker did not follow through with the caretaker, because I had been waiting to get on disability and I 'took too long' to get back to them so they shut my case immediately. And I don't see a therapist anymore, due to personal traumas and all that.

#4: Have you sought out any 'help' for your disabilities?

I have tried, but no luck there either. My disabilities are mostly mental, and for my specific issues there's basically nothing else besides therapy. I live in the US, and getting disability help is basically such a struggle that most die before they ever get anything at all. And it's why I've basically given up trying, it's why I fear the six month deadline I've been given to find a job because I cannot work with my disabilities.

#5: Why is your brother kicking you out if you are disabled?

In his words, he basically does not want to 'waste more energy' on me than he already does. He is autistic, and he works a factory night shift so when he's home he is either sleeping or playing video games. And on the weekends, he spends that time with his partner. I understand he does pay for my basic necessities (like food and medical equipment), and I do appreciate him for that. But, his partner and work buddies are all saying I am 'manipulating' him rather than 'being an adult' and finding my own job. And the stress of bills/rent has basically forced him into this choice of possibly kicking me out, even though he doesn't want to. And I know that if I fight him on this, he'll being up some pretty triggering topics for me and I want to avoid being kicked out immediately.

#6: What jobs are you looking for?

Solely any that I can do online, preferably none that deal with human interaction and I can just do from my computer. I have so far applied to two AI Writing jobs, but I won't know if I get denied because they don't send emails for it.

#7: Have you thought about those 'assisted living' type places?

My area only has ONE of those, and I doubt they'd accept me there anyways. So either way, this is not an option for me.

[fulloflovingechoes]

Labyrinth of Solitude, Time, Superman Etc.

I am finding myself once again BOGGED DOWN by the flow of time. I am filling my time. I am managing my time. I have a little blue planner that I picked up at the art store for $6.95 on the sales rack - 17 months. I would only be needing the back 10 or so. I made a joke with the clerk that I wouldn't be buying a planner so late, if I had a planner. They laughed politely.

I have 2 jobs now. An oppressive thought, but the good news is that my jobs are right next to each other, separated by a single restaurant. Most every day on my calendar has something to do. Go here, go there, do this, see them, do that. Keep up now, keep up! This is important for me. I use my free time as an excuse to ruminate on misdeeds, and am a well trained prison guard. I believe, on my therapy intake, I referred to it as a self stylized "Panopticon of Nihilism," so they know exactly what manner of douchery they're unpacking. Staying busy is how I'm trying to build a better me.

I'd like to move to the neighborhood where I work, and remove my commute entirely. One of my major hesitations is the recent sighting of an old friend. I've seen her every shift I've worked in the past week, which can only mean one thing: she lives there now. I don't know when she moved to the area. Also, "friend" doesn't exactly cut it. She was closer than that: a best friend. Although any time I said the phrase out loud she would let it hang in the air - all Damocles. She's a writer and a musician. A great actor, whip quick, and one of the smartest people I've ever met. Absurdly funny. One of the funniest people I've ever met. I love her a lot. Even now.

We stopped talking a year ago. It's my fault.

I took all of her for granted. I was so deep in self-hatred (read: narcissism) that I couldn't see her, and let all my agony pour out onto her. I was a bad friend to her. Horrible, actually. I'd minimize her troubles, and dismiss her outright. Even after she listened to me whine and complain and lament. I was difficult to be around. She put up with it for years. She was my main confidant and probably the person I trusted most. I wasn't in therapy, obviously. She kept me alive, and she told me hard truths. She loved me when I didn't. The shit I put her through while I wanted to die.

Thing is, I don't want to die anymore. I'm still depressed, but I want to live. I think the last year of my life, coincidentally the last year of my 20s, has been pretty eye opening. I am so fucking done with a lot of my self-hatred. One of the last things she told me before we stopped speaking was "you need to find a way to love yourself, because you deserve it. Even if we're not friends after this, I still love you." We hung out front of my apartment in the night for a while playing guitar. At the time I didn't realize it would be one of the last times we'd hang out. I headed in kind of early, I had an early shift the next morning. I thought I'd have more time.

There are things here, in me, I can love. It's hard to see them sometimes. I realize that it isn't just a voice of discontent within me yelling self-hatred, but a chorus line, kicking a can-can of "fuck yous," and "please-die-now"s. Some of those voices are variations of me, but a lot aren't. There are so many people here that love me too. I am finding out more more lately as to why. It's a bit like a wave. It gets easier and then harder again. Each time it shaves a little sand off the sea.

I've been reading Octavio Paz's Labyrinth of Solitude, which has been pretty eye opening. For anyone who stumbles across this, just a heads up: you are made. Like a massive portion of you is inborn - nature or whatever, but the nurture is so inseparable from the equation. How much the self is cultural, how much of it is history? How much have I sacrificed to assimilation? To read a book that reads you back is a weird thing, especially one that's targeted culturally. Here I am written. It's outdated in many ways, to be sure, but each sentence is like a homing missile on my identity.

The world is bigger than you are, and you are often powerless in the face of it. Nihilism seems to be the expected summation to that equation. It was my answer for the longest time, and in some days I found it my power. Nothing matters, so who gives a shit? But it's a cop out. At least to me it is. Nothing matters? Bullshit. Everything does. It fucking matters to me, and the people I care about. I can wax philosophical all the live long day about why something does or doesn't exist, about the solipsistic angle of it all. Meditate on the agony of knowing or not knowing, but if I have the excuse of "nothing matters," then nothing can. It's just another mask to hide behind, a trick to obscure.

I've been trying to fill my days with more hope. Fill my eye line with things of brighter nature. Changed the background on my phone to Superman, the best guy. What a little sweetie pie- ya' know? Just a goofy dude, out here giving a shit. Listening to a lot of Stevie Wonder. Have you ever tried being sad listening to Stevie Wonder? Try it. Throw on I Was Made to Love Her, and try frowning. You can't. Impossible. Staying open, especially when it's hard, that's the hard part of all this.

I need to reach out to my old friend. It might not go well, but that's not something I can control. We can't just keep almost bumping into each other, and not saying anything. It's not a turf war, and we're both adults. I guess my thing is that she's a writer, and she knows that you're supposed to "show not tell." I wanted to show her I was getting better, not just tell her. Maybe we're not at the place to be friends again yet, but we should at least talk. Got to find some free time to talk. The girl at the newsstand thinks it's a sign we should talk. Maybe she's right.

[maguro13-2]

War of Shadow Realm ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Chapter 4 Finale [5/5] ~

[Vengeance is Mine (Shadow Ver.) - Jun Senoue]

Seto : Damn! This is one crazy demon to chase. Using A Blooper to get us distracted with ink? I don't know if I even catch up with her! How is this supposed to work!

Eve : (on her motorcycle) Hey there, Reaper! Looks like you could use hand for me, I'll be an assistant for your battles as a friend or a helper!

Seto : Eve Neuschwanstein! You sure got good timing! I need your help on stopping Inky Albarn!

Eve : Leave it to me!

Inky Albarn : (chuckles) That stupid reaper won't catch me if I'm speeding off the rails, but it's a good thing that I'm on the tracks to keep me safe from those pests

Eve : Or will be?

Inky Albarn : Huh? What the bloody hell?!

[Mad Convoy Race - Jun Senoue]

Eve : Looks were on the same tail as you! So, you're supposed to be the fastest thing by speeding?! Ha! What a joke!

Inky Albarn : That does it!!(turns into Bullet Bill) Now you've really made me mad, fools!

Eve Neuschwanstein : Is that the best thing you can do? (Turns into Bullet Bill) Why don't you let someone pick on your size!

Seto : (groans) I hate it when turn into that! Not the best thing to cheat in kart racing.

Solva : I told you so!

Seto : There's gotta be an easier way to stop that crazy demon queen for good. (Holds out an Item Box) I've been planning on doing this, just for an occasion. It has to be the ultimate weapon that destroys the lead vehicle and it's very important.

Solva : You thinking what I'm thinking?

Seto : Gladly you asked.

Eve Neuschwanstein : [turns back into Bullet Bill] There's nothing that will slow her down! She's too loony and fast, not all cartoons like that would do it in real life!

Inky Albarn : (laughs triumphantly) Looks like I'm gonna win this race to loose you all and there isn't a single soul to stop me! Guess it's gonna be a Win Win for me! I'm gonna take you down fair and square!

Eve Neuschwanstein : But there's one thing that you forget and I say it's very important that you might lose to this race by me. With a friend to help?!

Inky Albarn : ?!

Seto : Hey, Inky! I gotta special delivery for you! Feast on this!

Inky Albarn : W-What?! What is that?! (We show Solva holding a Blue Koop Shell) A Blue Shell is racer's choice for a weapon?!?

Solva : I hope this better works! (Throws the Blue Shell)

Inky Albarn : That's not gonna work. (Blue Shell suddenly grew spikes and wings) Wait a sec, it can fly?! How is that even possible?! Why is that Blue Shell alwaysa problem to racers?!

Wario : The blue tortoise shell is Mario Kart race's ultimate weapon. It-a magically finds the lead car in the race, and it takes it out.

Inky Albarn : What did you expect that I was about to get hit? I'm gonna directly get hit by a Blue Shell that is definitely straight up to my--AAAAAAAAAH!!!

[DBZ SFX : Explosion]

Solva : Alright!

Eve Neuschwanstein : Direct hit!

Seto : I won!

Ashley : Good job on tracking down that perpetrator! She won't be giving herself a speeding ticket if you know what I Mean.

Seto : Alright, you nutcase. Give it up! You won't be going any further!

Ashley : Surrender now and turns yourself in!

Seto : So what are you going to say for yourself, huh, Inky? Got something for you to have that little nervous system. Time put up to your foolishness.

Inky Albarn (?) : ....(chuckles, shifts with into a male voice) Very clever of you. I never imagined that I would be so surprised. Having that wild goose chase was a really fun ride to hunt me down. But it turns out that the one you were chasing me on my tail, I'm not a heartless nor a doppelganger...but I am someone's counterpart to the original, after all, I am was the one that broken Inky Albarn's seal with Samny Lawrence in order to free her.

[Dark Samus Appears - Kenji Yamamoto, Minako]

Seto : Hold the phone, broken the seal of Inky Albarn with you and this "Sammy Lawrence" guy? Then who are you supposed to be?

Inky Albarn (?) : (Chuckles) Oh irony. That's a cold reception that you will ever receive for me, but now, don't even think that I am Inky Albarn's great servant to her own will. You never actually forgotten someone did you? Behold!

(Inky changes her appearances and reveals to be a young man in a suit that looks alike Soul Evans)

Seto : Woah! Freaky! It's like a girl's appearance has been changed into a...guy! This one went from a "She" to a "He". Not gonna lie about it.

Inky Evans : Maybe this will clear things up with your mind. So, how do I even look to introduce myself when I look at you?

Ashley : Hey, it's a demon shapeshifter! A creature that has doppelganger ability! A wolf in sheep's clothing! Who is this guy?

Eve : He's got the same ability to change one's appearance! That's not fair! But in fact, he does kinda look like that Soul Evans guy, he could be an Identical Twin to himself.

Seto : This is getting crazy around here. Who is this Am I seeing? Another one in human clothing?

Solva : Could be.

Inky Evans : Sorry about that, ladies. Let me introduce to you all from before, I am Inky Evans, the counterpart to the original Soul Evans, the Soul Eater and relative of the Infamous Mad Piano.

Seto : Original one, counterpart, and relative to the "Mad Piano"? Let me put that finger on something about before. And...And what do you mean by that? Are you saying that this Soul Eater guy is a creation of King Boo? Is that what you said about someone that is the original created by another ghost?

Eve : That's a weird thing to say that Soul Evans is a creation of that Boo guy, the one with the crown and not the one who is a diabetic pink villain from Dragon Ball. I get no hard feelings about a reference going on, but you are definitely something.

Inky Evans : Correct-o mondo! You finally catch on quickly, you miss blondie Seto, who wields a big ass sword, you're a fast learner to know about the painful lessons from truth.

Seto : So, you're the one responsible for breaking Inky Albarn's seal, just answer my questions for it. A : That was you when you came from Bendy's World. B : Who broken the seal that imprisoned the demon queen under brooklyn, and C ; Why in the world would you go and break the seal that imprisioned Inky Albarn in the studio!?

Inky Evans : Just taking orders from the man Sammy Lawrence, and I'll even ask you a question for me. When you died from the world of Needless along with Solva in 2013 A.D., what do you remember before the Mobian Death God brought you back from the Afterlife? Hmmm? How long did you remembered in the world needless before bringing to life in Real World AU?

Seto : I just can't put my finger on it, I just tried helping Solva and myself to remember that if we died and Solva's personality would forever changed how'd look, the so-called Adam Archlight destroyed in the final battle of the world of Needless.

Inky Evans : Oh that? Well here's a hint, When you died the world of Needless, you and Solva Probably remembered as heroes of the world of Deathless that existed within the Real World, and you even probbably remembered your missions and battles against the forces of evil fairly accurately with the help of the many Gods of Death, but beyond being a hero to all by you and Solva, any personal memories stored within you? It's hardly a fact to remember that you could even traced back with someone in a fairly manner way, and showed someone to proven you to become the Death God of Japan, that was your dream of being a Deathless hero.

Seto : Me...A Deathless? How I ended from me a Needless to a Deathless? How is that even possible!? How died and was recreated as a Hero!? Why me? Why dream of becoming a Deathless hero?! You're think so smart about it, why don't ask me another question. How did my memories with Solva and I come together in Real World AU?

Inky Evans : Yes it's all coming to for something possible and I know how did you and Solve come together as a duo from these memories of yours, yours and her memories of you from friendship to partnership have been pieced together by the Grim Reaper's Database stored from within the computer.

Seto : Solva and I were friends back at school, if she was really friend back in the days when I was at school, I usually meet her as a friends, but then we died and was brought back to life as Deathlesses, that's crazy talking...nobody secretly knew that I was brought back to life as a Deathless. Now I understand that...that...I left the world of Needless by mistake and was brought into Real World! I should've known it was that stupid Adam Archlight's fault, he's should've done that to me and Solva! I felt like a foolish girl and a foolish hero! How was I even born for this?

Solva : Seto! Hang in there! Don't let his words rattle you! He's only trying to mess with you to think that we live in the real world! The World of Needless has been gone for days and we've been brought here to tell you that we're no longer needlesses, we're deathlesses! race of individuals that are boorn with the supernatural ability of death. Please, Seto. You've gotta wake up, Seto! Please, wake up!

~ Seventy Second Scene : Reaper Action Pt.2 ~

[governmentissuedclone]

I've had times in my life where I've thought of doing a kindness for someone and somebody else has cringed at me and told me not to because it would be 'weird' and it slowly wore me down and made me doubt doing things for people.

If you're in a similar boat, just do it. Whatever thing you're thinking of doing for someone that they might appreciate or might make them happy, just fucking do it. If they don't want you to, they'll tell you to stop and then you'll know.

But I will always remember the stranger on my paper route when I was 10 years old that gave me a Christmas card with gloves in it because they were worried about tiny me out in the cold. I will always remember the elderly man with a snowblower whose house I walk past on my way home from my night shifts, that always gets up early in the winter to clear me a path down the road to make part of my walk just a little bit easier. The former coworker who brought me a sunshine themed care package after I cried at work because 4 of my relatives died in a row. The produce worker at my job who brought me a strawberry from an unsellable pack because one time I told him they were my turtle's favourite but he hasn't had them in a very long time because I couldn't afford them. Fuck I even remember all the cars that slow down when they pass me if there's a puddle so they don't splash the shit out of me.

Every time I think about them I feel a little bit lighter and like life isn't so bad for a little while and that brief moment of happiness means a lot to me. Every kindness that has ever been done to me has been seared into my memory so deeply I'll never get them out. Every single one has inspired me to be a better person.

I bake cookies for the people who give me rides and they always light up with surprise because they never asked for reciprocity. I surprised my friend with wine and coffee from his hometown in Italy after he mentioned he was missing it smth awful and he was so excited he started crying. Right now I'm crocheting a blanket for my friend's upcoming baby and I can't wait to give it to him. I hope that in the future they'll think of me and it makes them smile. I want people to remember me as someone who made them smile. I want them to know that someone cares about them and appreciates their place in my life.

Do the thing. Just,,, do the thing. And if you won't then don't try to drag down the people who will.

[myanonymousthoughts]

My Parent, myself

This morning I heard a share from a man I have never met. One of the thing I took away from his story was how important his being a Father is to him. His children had been taken from him and he couldn't see them for a few years. He demonstrated through story how these children are back in his life and rely upon him - he is taking his daughter to get a manicure today. He is teaching his son how to shave.

He got me thinking about Parenting. I have two friends who just had children, they're in their first 60 days of parenting, and a third who is in her ninth month as a mother. One of the common experiences I am hearing about is how, just when they're getting comfortable with their baby's behavior, pattern, schedule, whatever, it seems to change. The only constant is change. Just when you think you've gotten into the groove, something happens to change things - good, bad, neutral. Just when you've got a good sleep cycle going, they're teething. Just you've got the hang of your new job, there's a Pandemic. Just when you've settled into a healthy work-from-home sober routine, the owners sell your building. Just when you've accepted a lifetime of being single, you meet someone great.

What we learn in recovery is how to regulate ourselves, with the help of our ultimate Parent - the power greater than ourselves. Just when we start to feel like we're making progress, something shifts - either we discover a new challenge or have a break-through. Either way, it's the perspective shift that stretches us thin like silly putty and we are remolded. The Hope for Today reading touches on an adjacent topic. Part of recovery is detaching from others - offering our experience, strength and hope with love and letting go of outcomes. This is what our Parent is teaching - let go & let God. But, oh, how much easier said than done.

The Random Flip offered a hilarious addition: the obstacle of peace is my unwillingness to have it. It is being offered to me; can't I just take it? Don't I notice how much easier things are when I just gently hold it? Don't I know I can always have it? Yet I continue to refuse it! Tisk, tisk! ...And I think I've reclaimed sanity, lol.

Hope for Today, August 27: "Detaching from others and getting to know myself go hand in hand"

Course Random Flip, p 407 "A. The First Obstacle: The Desire to get Rid of it. 1. The first obstacle that peace must flow across is your desire to get rid of it. For it cannot extend unless you keep it. You are the center from which it radiates outward to call the others in. You are its home; its tranquil dwelling place from which it gently reaches out, but never leaving you."

[golbrocklovely]

let me complain about my work day really quick bc it was SO STUPID lol

so, went into work as usual and we had a bunch of pallets. six of them, i believe. but only one was broken down so far. now, even tho i'm part of freight we usually don't break down the pallets, it's usually another manager if and when they have the time to bc me and my one coworker, bc we ain't managers, get no time to work basically. we are both part time and don't even get to work a full eight hour shift and the reason for that is we have NO HOURS.

somehow, even with my gm being out the rest of the year, we are somehow still behind on hours. even tho we tell corporate over and over again that we need more hours (and you would think they would listen bc we are one of their favorite stores in the region and one of the more successful ones), we are still over time. i personally believe that a manager is somehow ripping off hours, bc there is no other way any of this makes sense, but i digress.

but anyway, i come in - only one pallet broken down. the second one is being worked on. my merch manager pulls out a uboat, but it looks weird. each pallets has a mix of all the sections in our store on it. my store has about, give or take, seven to ten sections in it. our store isn't huge, but it's big enough and has a lot of product. so i thought it was weird we weren't separating everything and putting it onto separate uboats, like we always do.

lo and behold, apparently my mm was told (either by a district manager or corporate) that company wide, this is how we are supposed to break down the pallets now: take one pallet, break it down and fill up one uboat and pull it onto the floor and take each box one at a time to their respective sections and put it out that way.

the way i could slap every. single. corporate. higher up. at my company right….. i swear to G-O-D.

the amount of walking i did today was insane, even for working in retail. mind you, i already do one whole big ass section in particular: the beauty section. but that also includes inside of it the apparel, makeup, cleaning supplies, travel shit, jewelry, sunglasses, ect ect. like there is a lot in my section, but now bc of this they want me to know everything about the store. i've been doing this shit for two full years, if not three at this point. i don't know other sections. i can do our tech section and i can do our bedroom/living room section. hell, now i even do our party favors section bc we're low staff.

but there are a lot of sections in my store i know dick all about. i don't know where half the shit goes, but my coworker and my mm do (along with my other mm and my cm). but bc we had to do it this way, we didn't even get everything done !!!!

my mm said we're not doing it this way after today. personally if i was her i wouldn't have done it at all. i would have made the executive decision to just… not do it. bc it didn't make it easier for us to get product out. it didn't save us time. if anything, me and my coworker had to leave at one today and left our mm with basically two full uboats and a pallet in the back untouched. and she was only gonna be there until three so, there wasn't enough time for her to get everything done.

it's just…. really annoying. and unnecessary. and on top of all of that, bc our hours have been ass, we only close the store anymore with one manager and one associate so the store doesn't get clean, especially my section bc it's tucked in the back and usually goes unnoticed. the only part of my section that gets touched are the folded tshirts but even those still get ridiculously messed up and i end up having to spend the first two hours of my shift just cleaning before the store even opens.

i'm gonna try looking for a new job soon. like, i like the ppl for the most part. i like the work itself bc it's simple and i don't mind work like that. but at this point i feel like i'm being used and disrespected. and my complaints aren't being heard so i'm just tired of all of it. it's the same excuses from management all the time and i'm just done with it.