#best birthday presents for 10 year old boy

[buckys-wintersoldier]

When we are older | B.B

Your childhood best friend and you plan to marry on day, you can’t wait to be old enough to do so. But when you move away, things change and Bucky isn’t the sweet boy you fell in love with, or is he?

Paring -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Wordcount -> 6.724 Words

Warnings -> childhood best friends to lovers, Bucky being a sweet one, Bucky being a dick, Steve being a good friend, angst, mention of fucking other girls, hurt/comfort, fluff

Authors Note -> Republished after I deleted it a while ago. The idea was inspired by the song “older” by Ben Platt.

Events -> Fandom-Free Bingo: Pride Edition | Row One-One | Weekend away | @fandom-free-bingo | Multifandom-Flash Bingo: Compliments | Row One-Four | Appeal to flattery | @multifandom-flash

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

10. March 1925

"Happy Birthday, Buck!", you scream and throw your hands around his neck. He immediately wraps his arms around you and presses your little body against his. "Now you're 8 years old,", you say with a proud smile on your lips, and you kiss his cheek gently.

"Come, I will show you my presents," he whispers, and he takes your hand into his little one. He runs, pulling you along with him, with a huge smile on his lips. He is so happy to have you with him. His little doll, his best friend and the one he loves the most.

When you both arrive at the table, you are fascinated by all the presents. "My new stuffed cat. I will call her Alpine. Mommy said, I will get a cat when I get older." He puts his stuffed animal into your arms. It's a little white cat with ocean blue eyes. They immediately remind you of Bucky's eyes. "It looks so sweet, and her eyes are as blue as yours," you say, patting the little head of the stuffed animal.

"And here," he says, climbing on the table to find something else to show you. He hands you a picture. It shows the both of you during the trip a few weeks ago. Bucky stands behind you, and his hands are wrapped around your waist, while you both stand in front of a waterfall. His head turns towards you, and you still know the words he whispered into your ear.

"We are going to marry one day, aren't we? I love you so much, my doll. You're the most wonderful girl in the world, and I will love you forever."

You both giggle when you look at the picture. His one hand wraps around your waist while you lay your head on his shoulder. "You still remember what your answer was?", he smiles, and you nod. How couldn't you?

"You're so sweet, Buck. I will love you forever, too. Can we marry at the beach? Or in the tree house?", you asked, and his answer was "Everything for my doll."

He put the picture back on the table and wanted to do the same with the stuffed animal when he saw you wrapping his arms around him and cuddling. "If you cuddle Alpine more than me, I'm mad,", he says, giggling, before you both walk back to the other guests. All of them are adults, but you both don't mind; you have each other, and that is everything that counts for you.

Bucky and you lay in the tree house, watching the stars and the moon, while most of the guests are home again. His hand is around you, and he presses you tightly against his body. "I wish we were already older; then we could marry,", he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You absolutely love his forehead kisses, and you're the only one doing it. Even when someone told him to kiss another girl, he hit the guy in the face. "You remember the theater when you almost wanted to hit the man's face?", you ask, and Bucky nods, breathing loudly against your skin and making you giggle.

The week before the holidays is always filled with much fun for the students. And this time it is a theater performance. You wait for Bucky before you walk into the room with the other kids and adults.

"Hey, doll,", he says, wrapping his arms around you. He kisses your forehead gently. You walk together into the room and take a seat next to each other. When the lesson starts, you both pay attention to the people explaining what you all have to do. But you and Bucky can't stop looking at each other every now and then. He smiles widely when you meet his gaze, and his eyes brighten whenever he looks at you.

After finding out more about the characters, the plot, and the role for everyone, you start to exercise the performance. You're on the stage right now. You play the fairy, which you really want to play, and walk in the background before you have to go to the prince to tell him what he has to do. Bucky stands in front of the stage, looking as often as he can towards you while he plays his role as the prince.

When you walk towards him, he smiles widely, while the princess sits in front of him, looking into a book. A dwarf has enchanted her, and the prince wants to help her before they are going to marry each other.

You reach them and walk a circle around them. "You don't need to fight against the dwarf; you only need to kiss her. The kiss of true love, my prince.", You say your lines and walk around them both before you go off the stage. He follows you before he turns his head to the princess.

Bucky leans down, but he is a few inches away from the princess. "James, you need to kiss her. Just her cheek or her forehead,", the man says. Bucky turns around and looks at him with half-closed eyes, and his eyes darken. He is angry, and you know that because when someone makes jokes about you, he looks like that too. "I don't want to kiss her,", he says, folding his arms in front of his chest. "We talked about that scene. It's just her cheek or forehead,", the man tries again, but Bucky shakes his head.

He walks off of the stage and towards the man. When he stands in front of him, he doesn't even reach the chest of the theater teacher. With his little fingers, he points up to him and speaks between clenched teeth. "I. Don't. Want. To. Kiss. Her.", he points out every word.

You smile at the scene in front of you. Little Bucky is a big man, but Buck acts like he is bigger and could throw the man down when he wants to do it. "But a prince has to kiss the princess,", the theater teacher says, pointing towards the princess before he looks back at Bucky.

Bucky shrugs and walks towards you. The man looks at the two of you in confusion when Bucky presses his lips on your forehead, making you blush. "I've kissed my princess. And she is the only one I will kiss. I'm not going to kiss a 'would like to be' princess. Only my princess, and she is playing the most wonderful fairy because she is the most wonderful and perfect girl on earth. Understood?", he says, looking with an angry gaze back at the teacher.

He smiles and shakes his head lightly. "Oke", he says, clapping into his hands. "Then you don't have to kiss her. Put your head on her head,", the teacher adds, and Bucky nods proudly of himself before he kisses your forehead again and walks back on the stage to practice the theater performance.

You both lay in the tree house, looking at each other and talking about everything and nothing. Both of you love to just be there; it's like your little home. And you're almost planning your wedding and your future life together.

"No matter what happens later, the one person I take care of, protect, and need in my life is you, my doll,", he says, and you blush, giggling about his words, but you want it too; you want him.

28. June 1933

Bucky stands in front of you. His arms are around your waist, and he presses you against his chest. He is still bigger than you, and over the years, he has gained a lot of muscle. The cute little boy turned into a young, wonderful man, and almost every girl loves him, even some boys.

"You know I still love only you,", he whispers, and his voice breaks a bit. "We are gonna marry one day. It's not that long until we can marry,", he jokes, but you can feel the tears running down his cheeks. You smile sadly when you pull away. Just a bit to look into his eyes.

His eyes are red, but he smiles slightly. He tries to give you some strength. "I love you too, Buck,", you whisper, and you know he will wait for you. Shit job from your parents, so you have to move to the other side of the country. But he is yours, and you're his; you both have said that. His lips meet yours, and you can taste your salty tears while you lay your arms around his neck, pressing him more towards you.

When you have to go into the car, he waves and runs next to it before your parents drive too fast for him. You lean your head back and close your eyes. The tears stream down your cheeks quietly. You know he will wait for you; you know you're the only girl in his life; and you know he wouldn't do the things you both did. But no matter how much you know that, you don't want to move away, even when you know you can come back in a few months, maybe some years.

You pull out the little letter he gave you before you take your seat in the car.

For my doll.

When you unfold the letter, you can see the whole paper covered with blue ink and his handprint, which you love. But you also see some points with smeared ink, and you know he cried when he wrote the letter for you.

Hey, doll. 

I hope you will have a good start at the new school there. If not, write to me, and I will come to you as far as I can. Believe me, I wanted to tell you that I will never find the right words. I had a couple of weeks to think about the perfect words.

You smile at his words, knowing he is right. And so both of you could just cuddle and kiss each other. Lying in the tree house again and feeling the things you already felt eight years ago.

Can you imagine that I got Alpine eight years ago? And now we have the real Alpine for a year. I told you about a surprise; I will tell you what it is. When you open your suitcase, you will find something you really love. And I can't get the picture of you with it in your hand out of my head. So I decided you both are perfect for each other until I can hold you in my arms again when I visit you. When you open your suitcase, you will find Alpine there. The stuffed animal, of course, but you have loved her since my eight birthday, so she is yours, like I'm.

You feel the smile on your lips with every word you read, but also the tears. Your mom takes you out of your thoughts and off of the letter for a moment. "We planned a trip, and we could ask Bucky if he wanted to come with us. Actually, we already asked him and his parents, and they said yes,", he says, stroking your knees with his hand. You smile even wider and look at her. "That sounds perfect,", you say before you turn your attention back to the paper.

I love you so much, and I can't wait to hold you in my arms again. A second surprise for you is the chocolate you like the most. I put it in your favorite cup. This is the chocolate we had our first kiss with. Or it was the reason for our first kiss.

You chuckle lightly when you think about the kiss. The first real kiss you both shared was the first time your lips met his, and the feeling of butterflies in your stomach grew.

It was when the both of you were in the tree house, like always. You watched your favorite movie while eating your favorite snacks. When he was looking at you, Bucky pointed to your face. "Was it there?", you asked, giggling, and he sat up. You rolled yourself to the side and looked up at him. "There is someone chocolate,", he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. Then he placed his lips on yours. "I think I got you mixed up with the chocolate,", he whispered against your lips, making you laugh softly.

He told you a few minutes later that there was no chocolate, but he wanted to kiss you. He laid on his back again and was looking at you while he told you. You leaned your body over him and kissed him again, while his hands moved to your hips and he pulled you onto his lap.

I love you, my doll; I always have and I always will. I can't imagine a life without you because you are my life. I hope we can see each other in the next holidays; otherwise, I will go crazy.

And I know you will be the most wonderful girl at your new school, and they will love you. I hope it is for them; otherwise, they miss the best person there is on this planet. I believe in you, and I'm so proud of you, doll.

I love you 'til the end of the endless line.

Your absolutely best friend, boyfriend, and one-day husband, Buck.

You have never talked about boyfriend or girlfriend. It was something usual for you two. You love each other, and there is no one else in your lives. So no one of you needed to say that directly or ask for it; you both are perfect for each other, and you know it since you're little kids.

5. September 1933

It's your first day at your new school. During the time you meet a boy, he lives just a few houses away from you, and you both become good friends. He is as old as you, a blonde-haired, muscular boy named Steve Rogers.

The two of you had a lot of time during the holidays, so you spent this time together. He helped you to avoid the pain in your chest, and he helped you to live at least a bit without Bucky by your side whenever it's possible. And Steve made you laugh as often as it was possible.

"Steve, where are we?", You laugh and look around. You're in the middle of a big room, but no one except the two of you is there. "In the classroom. Oke, maybe not, but I thought it's here,", he says and looks around.

You laugh even harder when he starts to scream like a little girl. "What the fuck?", he shouts, and when you look at him, he stands behind a table. "A spider,", he says, scratching the back of his head and blushing. "But it looks like a very big dinosaur or something,", he mumbles, trying to climb over the table again.

You look at him. "A dinosaur, really, Steve? You remind me of Bu-", you interrupt yourself, and your eyes widen. "Sorry, I'- not wanted,", you stutter quietly, but he shakes his head. "It's oke; don't worry. I know you miss him,", he says, and you nod your head, feeling the tears in your eyes, and wipe them away with one hand.

You feel his arms around you, and he holds you until you calm down a bit. "Can we go to our class now? I think this isn't the right room,", he whispers, and you chuckle lightly. Then he takes your hand and pulls you along with him out of the room and into the next room.

"Mrs. Y/L/N and Mr. Rogers,", the teacher says, pointing to the seats in front of him. You already don't like the place, but when you complain, the teacher will hate you. So you just walk to the table and take a seat, looking up at your teacher. He nods and continues with his lesson.

While you work on the tasks, your teacher walks around, and he often stands next to you. Steve sits next to you, and whenever the teacher isn't next to you, he makes jokes, and you almost burst out laughing whenever he says something.

"Steve, this is way too funny,", you say and giggle lightly. "Is it?", The voice of your teacher appears behind you, and you feel the cold shiver along your spine. "Sorry,", you mumble, but it doesn't help much to get less homework.

The lesson feels like two hours when you finally hear the bell and you almost run out of the room. You have a short break right now, and you want to use it to write a letter for Bucky. You told him you would send some his way, like you two did during the holidays.

When you reach a bench, you sit down and search for paper and a pen. You don’t need to think too long about things you write; you always have something to tell him, even if it’s only ‘I miss you’ or ‘I love you’.

Hey Buck.

Like I said last week, school started today, and it’s not too bad. I and Steve were late because we were in the wrong room, but it was oke. He made a lot of jokes in the lesson, and the teacher saw it.

But no matter how funny he is, he isn't like you. I really miss you, and I hope we can meet during the holidays. And in a few years, we can finally marry. I wish we were already a bit older.

How are you, and how is the school? Still as boring as always?

I love you, Buck.

Y/N.

You write, and when you finish it, you smile and put it all back in your back. With a look at the clock, you see the next lesson starts in a few minutes, so you walk back to go to your math class.

"Y/N!" Steve shouts and smiles at you when you walk closer. “Let’s go to math class, oke? And what do you think about a movie night?” he asks, and you nod immediately. “Sounds perfect,” you say, and the two of you make your way to the next classroom.

10. July 1935

You haven’t seen Bucky for eight months now, and he doesn’t write you letters anymore. You miss him so much, and it gets worse every day. Not even Steve can help you, so he made the best plan for the holidays, and when he stands in front of your door and shows you tickets, you smile lightly.

“We are going to meet him,” he says, and you look confused. “In the cinema?” you ask, and Steve chuckles. Then he shakes his head and hands you the tickets. You look at them, and when you realize this, your mood immediately changes to happiness.

Those are two tickets for the train, and when you read the place you are going, you can’t stop smiling. “We are going to meet Buck?” you ask to make sure you haven’t read something wrong. Steve nods at you, and then he points to the date. 10. July; 10.25 a.m.

"Steve, that’s in one hour,” you say, and you turn around to look for everything you need. He looks at you with amusement but also with adoration in his eyes. He takes a seat on your bed while you put everything in your bag.

When you suddenly turn around, you face Steve. “You’re the best,” you whisper, and you wrap your arms around his neck. “I know,” he chuckles, and he kisses your cheek gently. “But now let’s go,” he says, standing up to walk out of your room. You follow him.

The drive to Bucky takes a while, but with Steve, it isn’t boring. The two of you play some games and talk about everything and nothing. Even when you have already told him a lot about you and Bucky, you can always find other things for him to tell Steve. And he listens even when you talk for hours about it, and sometimes he asks you things so he can listen to more of your stories.

“He doesn’t have holidays yet, so we can go to school and meet him there,” you say while you wait to finally arrive at your home. Even when you live in another place now, your old home is still your home because of Bucky.

The next station is the one the two of you need to get out of the train. So you put your things into your bag and put on your jacket before you walk to the door with Steve. A big smile forms on your lips when the train slowly stops, and you would jump up and down when you could, but there are a lot of people, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself or Steve.

“Do you smell that wonderful air?” You ask when the door opens, and you take a deep breath. Steve chuckles, but nods then. “It’s nice here. So where is the school?” He asks immediately and looks at you.

He loves to see that huge smile, your lips, and the way your eyes brighten when you think about Bucky. Steve knows that Bucky means a lot to you, so he feels your joy inside of him as well. And he knows you to see that you’re so excited about the trip like he is. Steve can finally meet Bucky, the boy you always talk about and who seems like a really nice guy and lovely boyfriend.

You make your way through the streets to the school. With every step, you feel the excitement inside of you growing, and when you see the big building, you want to run there.

“There we are, almost, this building there,” you say, and you smile wide when you point to the school. The two of you walk next to each other along the street. With every step, you see more of the building and the schoolyard.

“When you walk around the corner and then along the street, you reach my old house,” you say, pointing to a corner. Steve follows your finger and looks interested. “It looks beautiful here, even better than in your stories,” he laughs, and you do as well. “Thank you for coming here with me,” you mumble before the two of you walk over the schoolyard.

“No problem. I prefer to see that beautiful smile of yours,” he chuckles, and you look up at him before you take his hand and pull him with you until you reach the entrance of the school.

There are already a few students, and when you look around, you see your favorite brown-haired boy. “Steve, Steve, there he is,” you mumble excitedly and walk closer to Bucky, who stands next to a tree and a little bench. When you walk closer, you see a girl standing in front of him, and she laughs about something.

“Buck,” you say, and he immediately turns around. He nods towards you and looks up and down at you before he looks at Steve. Bucky looks like a young man now; he has muscles, a slight beard, and his short brown hair is messy, but his steel blue eyes are still the same, as are his looks as well.

He turns his head back to the girl, excuses himself, and then comes closer to you and Steve. “What are you doing here?” He asks and nods to Steve. “I wanted to see you. I wrote a few letters, and now Steve said, we come here." You mumble and look up at Bucky.

The brown-haired boy nods and opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, another girl comes closer. “James, it was wonderful yesterday. Do you think we can do it again?” She asks, and you feel a cold shiver along your spine.

“But not today,” he says, and the girl smirks at him before she walks back to her friends. “Sorry,” he mumbles and looks back at you. You feel like you don’t know Bucky anymore. He looks so different, and his gaze and voice are so cold that you shiver whenever you look at him.

“How are you?” You ask, not knowing what else you could ask. "Good, and you? It looks like you found someone,” he says, looking at Steve, who stands next to you. “He is my best friend, but we are not together,” you say, and there is just a nod from Bucky.

“James, babe,” the girl he excused himself calls him. He looks annoyed and turns around. “Even when I fuck you, I told you not to call me ‘babe’ and I’m busy right now,” he groans, and you gasp quietly. The girl mumbles something, but Bucky just shakes his head and looks at you again.

“Sorry,” he says, and you feel the tears in your eyes. "Do you sleep with her?” You ask, and he chuckles darkly before he shakes his head. “I don’t sleep with her; I fuck them. Those girls beg for me; they are on their knees to spend a night with me. And I can do whatever I want with them; they are like fucktoys,” he explains, and you feel a tear rolling down your cheek. “What happened?” You whisper, and he looks confused before he shrugs.

“Buc-“ he interrupts you. “James,” he corrects, and you feel like you're in front of another person right now. The sweet boy who wanted to make you smile, loved you when you laughed, and wanted to marry you isn’t in front of you right now, and you don’t know why he is the way he is right now.

“I have my next class now, and after that, I go to a party with some girls to fuck them, so I need to go to my class now. It was nice to see you. If you want to get fucked too, you can just ask, but I’m sure he is also really good," he says, looking at you before he looks at Steve. “Have you fucked her, or are you the one making love?” He laughs sarcastically and waits for Steve's answer. “I don’t fuck her, and I haven’t slept with her. She loves you so much that she says no to everyone who just wants to dance with her, except me,” Steve says, placing an arm around your shoulder while you feel even more tears streaming down your cheeks.

When Steve says that you love Bucky, there is a moment where he looks like a lost puppy, a broken boy, but it immediately changes into a cold gaze, so you're not really sure if you saw it right. With a nod, he walks to the entrance of the school.

“Now we are older, and I wish we were younger,” you mumble and hide your face in Steve’s hoodie. He holds you tight against him and rubs your back with his hand, trying to calm you down while he mumbles sweet words into your ear.

“It’s oke. I have you, and he is hurt; he can’t see that he is doing this to you too,” he whispers, and you look up at Steve. Your eyes are red, and your cheeks are wet while you look up at him. “What do you mean? He fucks with all of those girls here,” you mumble, and you feel the tears burning in your eyes again. Steve uses his thumb to wipe them away and looks at you with a small smile.

Before he answers, he lifts you up, you let him carry you to the bench, and he sits down with you on his lap. “Have you seen that gaze when I told him you love him?” Steve asks, and you nod. “He misses you, and he is hurt. Maybe you should talk to him,” Steve explains, and you shake your head. “Noo,” you whisper and lean your body against Steve’s, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t an offer; you will talk to him or I will,” he demands. “I don’t want to”, you mumble against his neck, and you close your eyes to get some sleep. Steve rubs your back slowly and helps you to sleep while he looks to the door, waiting until Bucky can go home.

It’s not too long until the door opens and the first people run out of the building. When Steve finds the brown-haired boy, he looks at him until he recognizes him and walks towards the two of you. You're half asleep when Bucky stands in front of you and looks at Steve. “What are you still doing here?” He asks and then looks at you with a loving gaze for a moment.

“I know you have a party you want to go to and fuck all those girls, but I want you to know that there is one girl who really loves you and she waits for you. When she saw you with those girls today, something broke inside of her, and I know you’re hurt. I don’t know why, but I don’t want you to hurt her. There was no one other than you she was talking about, and whenever someone asked her to go out, she said no,” Steve says, looking at Bucky with a serious look. “When you’re hurt, then tell her. But don’t act like you don’t love her. I can see that you have that look when you look at her; it’s only then. So warm and loving,” the blond-haired boy says, and Bucky swallows hard.

"Maybe, but I have something to do today,” Bucky says, wanting to turn around, but Steve stops him. “When you go to the party without talking to her, I will tell her that there is nothing about you that she always told me about. And that it’s not worth it to wait for someone like you; there are a lot of boys who would treat her better than you do right now,” your best friend says and strokes your back. You mumble something in your sleep while Bucky looks at you. Then he nods.

"Let's go to my house,” he says, and Steve stands up with you. Bucky swallows hard when he realizes Steve’s words, and when he sees you, his gaze softens.

“Want to carry her? Otherwise, I would do it,” Bucky offers. “It’s oke, but her bag,” Steve answers and points with his head to your bag. Bucky smiles lightly when he sees the bag. You have had that one since the two of you were little kids. Then he throws it over his shoulder and walks next to Steve.

They don’t talk, but Bucky looks almost every second at you, making sure Steve holds you and because he just wants to see you. “Stevie?” You mumble, and Bucky's heart races when he hears your sleepy voice. He adores the one, at least as much as your voice in general. He missed hearing you talk, but he wouldn’t admit it; otherwise, he would feel the same as he did when you moved away.

“I have you, princess,” he mumbles, but Bucky hears it. And he wants to hit Steve right in the face when he calls you ‘princess’ but he knows he has no right to do it.

“Are we at home?” You ask, but Steve shakes his head.

“No, James is here, and we go to his house now,” he tells you, and you nod while you feel the tears again.

You let your best friend carry you to your second home, or it was your second home when you and Bucky were kids, but now you’re not sure about it anymore. “My mom is home,” Bucky says, and you feel a warmth running through his body when you hear his suddenly soft voice.

When he opens the door, the three of you walk inside, and Steve lets you down. “You can go into the living room; I just need to call someone that I have no time for parties right now,” he explains, and you nod while you walk into the living room. Steve follows you. You still know everything in that house, and it feels like nothing has changed except for a scratching tree in the corner of the room and a white fur ball lying on the couch.

“Alpine,” you say softly, and the little white cat lifts her head to look at you. She has steel blue eyes, the same as Bucky's, and she looks exactly like the cat Bucky got on his birthday when he turned eight.

With a few steps, you reach the couch and hold your hand in front of the cat. Alpine sniffs at your hand before she leans against it and lets you scratch her ear. "You are such a sweet little fur ball,” you coo. You turn your head to Steve and point with your head next to you on the couch.

“You can sit here. What did you say that he is so nice now?” You ask, and Steve chuckles lightly. "I told him the truth about your feelings, but I also told him that there are a lot of boys who would treat you like the princess you are,” he explains, and you smile at him.

When you hear footsteps behind you, you turn around and see the face of Bucky’s mother looking at you. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re such a grown and beautiful young lady now,” she says with a huge smile on her lips, and you nod before you stand up and almost run into her arms for a much-needed hug.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper, and she agrees before she lets go and looks at you again.

“I was sure you would be a gorgeous young lady, and you are,” she whispers and then looks at Steve.

“Hello, I’m Steve,” he greets the woman, and she nods before she walks closer to him and hugs him as well.

“James is in his room?” She asks.

“He wanted to call someone because of a party." You shrug and sit down next to Steve. Bucky’s mother takes a seat on the armchair across from you.

“I’m so glad you’re here, that the two of you are here. When you moved away, Bucky wasn’t the same anymore. In the first time, he tried to be as much as he was, but with every day, he turned more into an idiot. I haven’t seen him crying like that when you moved away, and I guess he changed into the one he is to avoid his feelings,” his mom says and sighs quietly.

“I try to talk to him; I miss my little Buck, the one who wanted to marry me when we were young, and we didn't want to wait any longer there,” you chuckle. Steve listens to you and smiles lightly when he sees your chuckle.

Just a few moments later, the brown-haired boy walks downstairs again and comes into the living room. He doesn’t say anything when he takes a seat next to you, so you sit between your two favorite boys. He clears his throat, but then he is quiet again.

“Steve, I’m sure you heard a lot of stories about them; do you want to see the pictures of them? There are some really funny ones; I’m sure you will like them,” Bucky’s mother says and stands up. Steve nods with a wide and mischievous smile.

“Love ya, princess,” he whispers into your ear.

“Love ya too,” you say before he follows the woman out of the room.

Then you’re alone with Bucky, his jaw clenching, and he rubs his sweating hands in his pants. You look at him and see how nervous he is; he isn’t looking at you. “Buck, listen, oke,” you start, but before you can continue, you see tears streaming down his cheeks, and you interrupt yourself.

Suddenly, he stands up before kneeling in front of you, his hands on your thighs as well as his head. You place one of your hands on top of his head and run your fingers through his soft, brown hair. “I’m sorry, I love you,” he whispers against the fabric of your pants. You scratch his head softly and wait until he looks up at you.

After a moment, he lifts his head, and your eyes meet. His tears are wet, and his eyes are red when you wipe his tears away. He breathes deeply and then opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, you can see the tears streaming down his cheeks again. “It’s ok,” you mumble, and you glide your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t want to hurt you, never. I love you so much, but when you moved away-“ he starts, sobbing before he continues to speak. “Everything was so empty, and no matter where I was, we were there together. I missed you so much that I wasn't able to leave my room for weeks. And even so, there is everything that reminds me of you. I’m sorry for being an idiot; I wanted to think about nothing for a few minutes, but I haven’t thought about you then,” he whispers between even more sobs. He let his head fall down on your thighs again.

“You really were an idiot,” you chuckle, and you capture Bucky’s face with your hands so he needs to look at you. “But you’re my idiot,” you mumble before you lean forward and kiss him softly. You're not sure if it’s what he wants, but as soon as your lips meet, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses you closer. You feel the love and happiness, as well as the butterflies in your stomach, when his lips meet yours and his adorable blue eyes look lovely into yours.

“Do you still want to marry me? We can do it; now we are older and can marry,” he whispers against your lips, and you nod.

“I definitely want to, Buck,” you mumble. He smiles at you when you continue talking. “But no other girls anymore, and don’t be jealous about Stevie; he is nice,” you say, laughing, and Bucky nods with a smile before he kisses your forehead.

“No other girls and not jealous of Steve,” he chuckles, and it’s like his mother and your best friend heard you because they walk back into the room and see the two of you smiling at each other.

“Do you want some cake as well?” The woman asks, and you immediately look up at her with a wide smile. “What kind of cake?” You ask, and Bucky laughs when he sees your eyes brighten. “Your favorite,” Bucky whispers into your ear, and you push him back to jump to the kitchen.

"Cake, I’m coming,” you say, and the three others look at you while they burst out laughing before they follow you. When you reach the kitchen, you see the big cake on the table, but before you are there to steal it, you feel two strong arms around your waist and pressing against a body. “Do you like Alpine? She looks like my stuffed animal; do you still know it?” He asks, and you nod while you try to reach the table with the cake.

“Do you want me to bring you the cake?” Steve asks with a laugh, and you look at him with your best puppy eyes. "Yes, please,” you say, and he takes the cake but walks away from you, and you hear the two boys laughing. “You’re mean,” you mumble. Bucky kisses your neck, and you feel goosebumps all over your body.

“You’re the most wonderful girl, and I love you, my doll,” Bucky whispers into your ear, and you smile widely. “I love you too, Buck, but now give me some cake,” you say, smiling, and he shakes his head, looking at you with adoration and love in his eyes while Steve comes back with cake and places it back on the table.

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[fastcardotmp3]

I'm not usually the audience for most kid fic content HOWEVER the idea of Eddie falling into a circumstance where he becomes the Uncle Wayne to some other kid who has nowhere else to go has me by the throat today

like. circular narratives.... hear me out....

maybe Eddie did have a sibling, a sister ten years older than him who was out of the house and as far away as she could manage before he even ended up in Hawkins with Wayne. maybe he and his sister didn't keep in touch because by the time she had her footing in the world well enough to come back and see him, Eddie was long gone already.

maybe she ends up in worse situations than he does by nature of not having a Wayne of her own to teach her what it feels like to have someone stick around for you and maybe one of those situations is ending up with a kid she's not equipped to take care of, no matter how much she tries.

she needs help, needs backup, needs someone to take this 10-year-old in and give her safety while her mother gets healthy and tries to learn what it means to be stable.

And hey, listen, Eddie Munson is 27 at this point, he's had seven years to heal from the bullshit Hawkins put him through and he's still working hard every day to keep that momentum going, but a child?

he's not a father, not an uncle, take her to Wayne for fuck's sake, he begs of his sister even though he knows deep down he doesn't mean it, not when Wayne has finally retired, finally has some stability of his own.

what other option do I have? I need you, Ed, is begged of him in return, and he hears her, he does, but what does he have to offer in this situation?

he's a mechanic with PTSD and a one-bedroom in Bloomington who's been pining for his best friend the former jock-turned-part time student for the past two years.

he's a wreck and a half who has nothing but lateral moves to make in his future and has to set three different alarm clocks to wake himself up in time for work every morning and he's just-- Eddie. That's all he is. That's all he has to offer.

It can't possibly be enough.

What's her name? he asks despite himself, out here on the sidewalk in front of his place of work where he'd been ambushed, where he knows Steve will be pulling into the spot across the street to pick him up any minute.

Naomi, is the answer, and she will be, even if Eddie doesn't see it yet.

There's no part of Eddie Munson which has ever dreamed of trips to the park and helping with homework and drives to the mall to buy presents for birthday parties.

There's no part of him which has ever sought out parenthood to anything other than the stray cat who likes to beg for treats at his back door.

There's no part of him which is built for this, Eddie knows, as he sees the familiar shape of a familiar car parking across the street and idling.

Naomi, he breathes anyway, looks down at the photograph being pressed into his hand, the untamed curls and missing front teeth.

She's sitting on the front steps of a trailer, sun shining down on her and pinking up the bridge of her nose and it's him for a moment. It's him, loved unequivocally by a guy who never planned to have kids, never wanted them, and loved Eddie with everything he had to offer despite it.

It's him, the little boy that still lives in Eddie's chest, just asking not to be forgotten.

You're all she's got right now, Eddie.

Well, shit.

He's gonna need to put a call into Wayne, isn't he?

[ladyloveroll]

(These are my ACTUAL notes from my friends birthday party full of people who absolutely did not know who the fuck Itachi and Kisame were or how pairing names work or what a ship is.)

Writing kisaita (on and off) for 15 years

Never get tired of the ship

Excellent, friendly people in the fandom to keep making content (Cynni)

Presentation is less about the specific ship and more about the general qualities that make their ship S-tier. You may find this echoed in your own OTP, IDK.

Powerful, badass characters who can kick anyones asses no problem, as depicted where they are casually taking a stroll after Kisame (who still has his little fo-hawk) casually takes down the four-tails

Kisame is noted as the ‘tail-less jinchuuriki’

Itachi is clearly a fucking powerhouse, we don’t need to debate that

Working with strong characters means you are more easily able to portray their weakness and explore that side of them since that rarely gets screentime

Auxiliary, not main characters

Main characters are harder to write because they spend a lot of screen time accomplishing their goal and doing Plot

Auxiliary characters are more malleable, and morally gray ones especially so

Depicted here are Itachi and Kisame, separately, being ordered by their villages to kill their own people. They carry this order out, but do not particularly like it. Nor are they particularly loyal to their own villages, despite carrying this order out. It’s hard to say where their loyalities lie.

The answer is WITH EACH OTHER OBVIOUSLY

Any ship that has a timeskip has LOADS of canon-verse material you can work with, especially if it feels like the characters have changed or their dynamic has changed.

For Naruto especially, WTF are Kisame and Itachi doing for three years? Clearly neither of them are out capturing jinchuriki. They aren’t seen lounging around Amegakure or Akatsuki headquarters. They are just traveling the world. Probably doing hits. Probably hitting on EACH OTHER WOOOOOO

Long time skips mean a few thing: 1) Canon divergence, 2) Canon compliant, 3) pre-time skip, 4) during time skip, 5) post time-skip; and that’s not even the AU’s

They clearly haven’t made any other friends during this time either so lots of relationship to explore

The Naruto franchise is notorious for retconning. Probably because Kishimoto (the writer) was pushed to create at a pace that was impossible for any sane or healthy man to keep up with.

Fanficition writers can take advantage of this poor writing by interpreting the character in a lot more ways than if the character was solidly written.

There are a lot of different ways Kisame is written, and accepted as so

Itachi less so but we don’t have time for that

Retconning allows you to take a writers mistake and turn it into utter brainrot that ten other people (me) will reblog every 3 years

This one is kind of specific, but if you like angst then OH BOY this ship has a lot of potential for it

Any OTP that involves an angsty edgelord and a sadistic tagalong can indulge in either EXTRA ANGST and be able to balance out the angst with humor

The KisaIta ship has 4 great themes about it:

Redemption

Acceptance

Forgiveness

And Existentialism of course

Dynamic:

Sharkboy / lava girl

Edgelord / goof

Leader / follower

Maybe old? / a touch too young

Respect for each other

S-tier OTP because of strong themes and repeatable dynamics

Kinkfest here we come

S-tier OTPs must be able to withstand an intense variety of smut writing

Powerful level = able to handle pain and dish out pain

Body things? = more positions

The Shape of Water was one of the single best thing to happen to the KisaIta 18+ fics because (even though it existed before the movie came out) a lot more readers were into it now

Also, Kisame makes this ship work more than Itachi. He is fucking DEVOTED

at this point I was running out of my 10-minutes (THEY HAD THE AUDACITY TO PUT ME ON A TIMER) so i just backfilled the rest of the presentation with fanart and memes i like

Why do I like KisaIta?

I mostly write smut

They’re great at smut

I also like angst

They’re always great for angst, either character

Also look at them they are hot AF

Beefcake service-top vs. ‘shaped like a katana’ masochist

Healthy dose of hurt-comfort

They’re extremely flexible to write and so there’s a lot of stories you can create

thank you for not reporting me to the powerpoint police

[nicolesainz]

You belong with me (MM7)

Mason Mount x f!reader

Author’s note: I am in the middle of a Charles Leclerc fic and studying for exams and yet at 11 at night all I am willing to do is write a fic about Mase. So here you go! It’s a very simple plot from Mason’s POV.

Summary: You indeed belong with him, you just haven’t realized it yet. Mason has been trying everything and when the perfect opportunity arises, he is willing to take it up and make you his.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, minor violence, soft in the end!

She is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. There is no one else in this world that I would want to make and call ‘mine’. If I had a lamp with a genie inside, my only wish would be to let me love her unconditionally.

It’s a pity she won’t let me love her. She’s in search for the love of a man that doesn’t even want her. Even worse, can’t provide her the love I can and am willing to give. I feel sick to my stomach knowing her heart has been engraved with his name instead of mine.

Y/N and I have been best friends before we could even talk. As babies our eyes and childish giggles would do the trick. As we were growing up, our relationship became stronger and we were attacked to the hip. She’d beg her mother to stay over at my house and I would beg my mom to stay over at her house.

We would never sleep. We would talk endless hours about what we want to do in life. What we want to succeed in. What our lives would be in 20 years time.

“I will be playing for Chelsea one day and I will win the Champions League. I promise you.” I said as a young boy, hopping on my bed, with a dream and passion to motivate me.

“You will be a superstar one day, Masey. And I will always be by your side to cheer for you.” Y/n replied, looking up to me, with a massive smile plastered on her face and her bubbly eyes admiring me.

Y/n did keep her word. She’s been present to all of my games. Whether those were in London, in Holland or other parts of the world, she has been truly my biggest fan. At winning games and losing games, she’s stood by me like no one else has or will ever do so.

Every goal I scored was dedicated to her. My celebrations would vary but a small heart would always be included. If I ever forgot the heart celebration, I would go up to the camera and mouth an ‘I love you’ to the screen so she would see it.

A lot of people in high school believed that we were dating. I would’ve loved to confirm those rumors, although y/n’a undying love for the nerd, tall boy in our class would ruin everything I wished for. He was expressionless and would simply smile like an idiot to her whenever they had a small conversation.

The moment we stopped sitting next to each other my blood would boil every time I caught him looking at her. I would send her small paper notes to keep her distracted from his presence. At times, I wasn’t able to go to class because of games or practice so for the entirely of the time, she would occupy my thoughts and I would ask her other friends if anything happened.

Till this very day, the only person that truly knows how deeply in love I am with y/n, is Declan. And I think he’s kind of sick hearing me blabber about how I would gift her the world, the planets and the night sky full of stars just to be with her.

“I know you love her mate but you’re clearly not what she wants.” One day Declan hit me with the realization that I may not be the boy she loves. And it was partially true. I wasn’t. Not until the perfect chance popped up.

It was Valentine’s Day and coincidentally Y/n birthday as well. Everyone in our class knew so her nickname in high school was Mrs. Cupid. They said that she could have whoever she desired. And yet this never happened. The idiot she loved was a scared man who couldn’t handle the portions of love she was showering him with.

It was our class reunion after almost 10 years. Me and y/n knew about the whereabouts of some old classmates so seeing them again would be like a casual hang out. Other hand lost touch so we would be seeing them again after years. Y/n would also be faced with the asshole she had been pinning about.

“How do I look Mase?” She appeared in front of me with a golden sparkly top and a black skirt that was perfectly showing off her figure. Her hair was let down in soft summery curls with lips more red than Manchester’s color. My heart started thumping so fast, I could run a marathon and come back without a hint of sweat. She’s so majestic.

“You’re beautiful darling.” Was all I said with a soft smile on my lips, even though I hid all my true thoughts for her appearance.

“Oh why thank you Mr. Mount. You are very handsome yourself.” I blush at her sweet words. She has an effect on me which I do not try to hide. Unfortunately I know that the reason why she is so insanely beautifully dressed is because he will be there. She would love to have another try. Maybe a final one.

"Shall we get going? You will start getting annoyed with your heels very soon so better be sat than sorry." I point out trying to clear my head from all the intrusive thoughts.

"Oh yes, plus you've got a game tomorrow. We have to come back early." She grabs her purse and we make our way out of her house. I drove all the way to London with my clothes for the party and for the game tomorrow after training so I could be with her from the moment we enter the club.

"You can stay in the party if you like, I will come and pick you up whenever you want me to." I suggest her by letting her get closer to what she desires but instead letting my desire fly away.

"No influence in the world has a priority against you. We will come back home when you call so. I won't risk your sleeping schedule for my silliness." Y/n takes my free hand into hers and caresses it softly. She keeps making it very difficult for me not to maneuver back the car, lock her in her room and shower her with kisses and tell her how much I love her.

"For now let's go have some fun. It will be nice seeing all the faces of our old classmates."

Most of them still live in London. It was me and three other people who lives far away in different cities. Once we arrived at the bar that we had booked, y/n held my arm nervously and I kissed her forehead, wanting to calm her down. She had no reason to worry. Everyone who knew her loved her. It was only him who couldn't love her like she wished.

When I opened the door and our old classmates noticed us, they all ran towards y/n, giving her hugs and compliments about how beautiful she looked. Some of the boys came up to me and greeted me with a few shakes and congratulations for the transfer to Manchester.

As we reached the barline, he was there talking to some of his old friends and y/n eyes immediately widened from worrying. He looked the same to me, I hadn't noticed anything different. I decided to go up to him and chat a bit, given that for y/n to ease there must be a familiar face in presence.

"Look at that, Mason Mount. How are you dude?"

He suddenly got all arrogant or what? He was a quiet, forgettable and tall boy in high school, what changed all of a sudden?

"Good, good. Settling the in the new life in Manchester. How about you?" I try not to sound as pissed as I may look. I eye him up and down once more trying to understand what difference there is.

"Travelling the world every other weekend, I am exhausted. You get the feeling? Home and away games?" Oh he gained soo much confidence over the years that he got annoying as well.

"Definitely, I agree. So what do you do that requires so much traveling?" Last time I remember he wanted to become a driver but god knows if that could get him anywhere at the age he was.

"I work for Mercedes, as their development driver for Formula 1." I almost chocked on my drink. So he did make it as a driver, almost.

"That's amazing. Good for you mate." That's what gave him all the confidence he has I suppose.

"So what about you and y/n, finally got together? I saw her holding your arm, I assumed you're dating." A smirk formed above his eyes, which made my eyes twitch a tad.

"She's my best friend. So no, we are not dating." I so would have loved to say otherwise even if that meant I had to lie, but I couldn't. It would be wrong for y/n.

"Damn, still haven't given up Mount? I admire your determination. If she was as hot as she is now back in the day, I would have made my move." If he utters another word he will die on the hill and I will be arrested but for the sake of y/n I wouldn't care.

"She's always been extremely beautiful. You were just trying to figure out whether you have a dick or not so your focus was on something else." I got a lot of pats on the back and a lot of 'fuck dude' echos in the background.

"If you are so desperate to try and get into her pants why haven't you flashed at her the trophies and the money? Easier path than trying to sway her with your undying love confessions." I couldn't control myself when he said those disgusting things so my only response was to punch him in the face and throw my drink on him as well.

"You don't deserve an ounce of the love she has for you. You don't deserve the charming smiles you would have woken up next to. You don't deserve anything good, fucking piece of shit." He got up immediately and punched me in the gut with all his strength. I stopped breathing with how my lungs were pressed and all his friends were trying to block him from punching me again.

"Who told you I wanted her to like me in the first place? There's a reason why I never asked her out. You can have all her pathetic emotions for yourself. She still begs for someone she liked since high school. You're a goddamn footballer, why are you so obsessed with her?"

When I finally got up on my feet again and gained my senses, I grabbed his collar before anyone could hold me back from going up to him and gave him a deadly look, as if this would be the last time he was breathing and not coughing blood.

"I loved and will continue to love her no matter what. I do not want anyone else and I am willing to compromise for the sake of her happiness. I was tired of watching her chase your pathetic ass when I could have given her all the love she desires. You can have anyone you like but your time with her is over." As I realised that I said that out loud in public, I turned around to see a fully crying y/n, trying to control her sobs and clear her vision.

Her lower lip was quivering and her eyes were on my hands as I was still holding his shirt very violently. I looked deep into her eyes, although she refused to give me even a single glimpse. I had fucked it up majorly.

"Let him go Mason." Her voice has no emotion in it. More blunt than ever. There was no 'Masey' or 'Mase'. It was stern cold. I did as I was told and turned back to face her full blown red cheeks and lips with smeared lipstick. What had I done?

"I am so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have had, but I..." I couldn't finish my sentence as she walked away from the scene and I immediately run after her. No way in hell I was going to stay back.

"I didn't mean to hit him. He was literally asking for it. If you could hear what he said about you, it was horrible. I couldn't just stand there and let him talk so disrespectfully about you." I never let anyone talk in a mean manner about my girl. Even Conor who once called her 'hot' I almost kicked his leg on purpose in practice.

"Did you mean what you said at the bar? Or was this just a show?" I couldn't believe my ears when she said that she believed that this was just a show. Was that what she thought of me?

"Ask anyone I know on this planet. Ask them about you. Ask them what I have said about you. Ask them how much I love you. Ask them how I would take a bullet for you, how I would put my career on the line if it meant to prioritise you. You have no idea how much I cried the night before I left for Manchester. I called Lewis at 3 am in the morning crying, asking him to help me cancel my contract so I could stay in London. Even if that meant trying to force my way back into Chelsea or another club. Do you really think I would punch a guy for any other girl besides you? Because yes y/n, I love you. I truly am madly in love with you. I love you so much it started to pain me. It was heartbreaking seeing you try to be loved by someone who wasn't deserving of your love when I was there, waiting to give you all the love of the world. If you still think this is all a show, then I am deeply sorry. I just want the best for you."

There was so much more to confess and to explain, although it would take me an eternity to prove to her how much she meant to me. Since day one I knew that if someone would be my endgame, it had to be her.

"You are my best friend, you will always be. We share everything with each other. Why did you never say anything about this? What stopped you from telling me how you were feeling? " She came closer to me and cupped my cheeks softly, caressing my rough skin.

"If I lost you because of my feelings, I would have never forgiven myself. God knows how many nights we spend sleeping in each other's embrace and I whispered in your ear how much I was in love with you. I just hoped one day you listened and wake up realising we should be together. But forcing you to love me, wouldn't be right. That is why I never told anything." This could either break my heart or bring me back to life, there's no way back now.

"Mason, I was in love with you before I ever was with him. He was just my reason to bury all the love I had for you. I was scared of admitting anything because your career kept growing and growing and the thought of being in love with you whilst you were playing in another country with a girlfriend I probably wouldn't even like, would keep me up late at night crying."

Her words broke my heart into a million pieces. My y/n was in love with me as well? The girl of my dreams could have been mine for so long and we wouldn't have had to go through this mess? Y/n loved me, oh my god.

"If you allow me, I will love you for the rest of our lives. Whoever you want to end up with, just tell me, will you allow me to give you all the unconditional love I have for you? All that matters to me is that you are happy. As long as you smile, I know I can smile as well." I lowered my head and our foreheads touched, feeling her breath hit on my lips, which were about to capture hers but I held back for a moment.

"I don't want to be loved by anyone else but you, Mason Tony Mount. If I want to be with someone, I want that person to be you. I want to share my life and love I have with you. We could have been happy now if we both weren't so scared to admit our feelings." I can feel her tears running down my hands as I was trying to bring her face closer to mine.

"Better late than never, am I right?" I took the chance and captured her lips in a full of years of emotions kiss, softer than the touch of clouds but with more love than cupid's arrows. My heart has finally found the pace it will beat when I am with her. It will beat faster than a thousand hearts combined and will be full of happiness.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

The Best Present

An: Today is Kenny’s birthday so of course I had to write something!

(Kenny Is referred to as Tyson)

Summary: Spending Tyson’s 40th  birthday with fem reader and their 1 year old daughter Violet!

Word count: 682

Tyson hated his birthday. Every year was the same, he didn’t want a party but I would convince him and of course he would have a good time. This year however was a special year, this year Tyson would be turning 40 and I knew that terrified him. I tried to plan a big party with all of our friends and family but of course Ty hated the idea. So we would celebrate his big day with just the two of us and our one year old daughter Violet  until Wednesday when we would go out to dinner after dynamite with friends to celebrate. 

I didn’t quite understand why he didn’t like to celebrate his birthday, I know most people don’t like their birthday but Tyson was different. It was almost like he was embarrassed of it. 

I woke up bright and early and started working on a cake for Ty. His only request each year was for me to make him a german chocolate cake and let him sleep in. This would mark the 10th german chocolate cake I would make for his special day and each year it seemed to get more special. Tyson claimed to love my cake, I thought he was just lying at first, since my baking skills can be questionable at times but 10 years of the exact same cake would say otherwise. Unless he is just extremely committed to the lie. 

After I put the cake in the oven I decided to make a nice breakfast as I waited for Tyson to wake up. As if on cue, he came downstairs right as I finished setting the table. You could tell that he was exhausted but nonetheless he still looked just as handsome. 

“Good morning birthday boy!” I said in a gentle tone, embracing him in a hug

“Good morning” He replied half asleep. “Did you do this for me?” Tyson asked, looking towards the feast laid out on the table. 

“Of course, anything for you my love” I said as I placed a kiss on his cheek. I turned to grab a fresh cup of coffee to give Tyson but it was almost like he vanished into thin air. Not thinking too much about it, I went back to preparing things in the kitchen until I heard noise coming from the baby monitor. I quickly realized that it was Tyson, who seemed to be talking with Violet. 

“Hi, my angel. I hope you had an amazing sleep” Everynow and then I would catch Ty talking with Violet and it always made me smile. Just then I heard Violet say “Birthday”, it wasn’t perfect but she definitely said it. I was internally high fiving myself, I had spent weeks trying to teach her the word for Tyson’s big day. 

“Yeah, it is my birthday. You are so smart Violet” I could hear his voice crack a bit as he spoke.  

“I must say you are the best present. I wish I had you years ago, I don’t know what I would have done without you Violet” I could hear his voice start to tremble as he spoke and I could feel my throat start to get dry. 

“Come on Violet, let’s go see Mom before she starts to wonder where we are” I could hear them start to make their way back to the kitchen so I ran back to the table, pretending that I didn’t hear the whole conversation. 

“There you are, good morning Violet!” I said as I approached the pair, giving them both a hug and kiss. “Who’s ready for some breakfast?” I asked as I took Violet from Tyson, putting her in her high chair. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you” Tyson said, as he held me in a tight embrace 

“For what?” I asked, playing dumb

“For everything, I really don’t deserve any of this”

“Yes you do, stop saying that alright. I love you so much, okay. Like a ridiculously amount alright. And I will continue to love you for the rest of my life Tyson!” 

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah?”

“I think I want to have another baby with you” 

“What?”

[i-am-a-l0st-gh0st]

Good morning, as promised, my first of two Gaming requests. Please kindly consider this Gaming fluff request: Gaming with a childhood best friend Reader whose mother used to be a dim sum chef at Liuli Pavilion. Growing up, Gaming becomes Reader's test-taster for their creative dishes (much like Xiangling but nothing too over-the-top). So, imagine both Gaming's and Reader's surprise when both Gaming's and Reader's father announce their betrothal on Gaming's tenth birthday.

Please also kindly take as long as you need with this request; I have no qualms in waiting. Furthermore, by no means feel obligated to prioritize this request over your other requests.

If you're lost you can look and find me- Gaminx Gn!reader

Time after time T/w- Old memories summary- AS shown above

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The sun burned brightly in the sky and the smell of dim sums filled the air. You were cooking away humming lyrics while you gracefully moved around like in a dance. Gaming was sitting at a table near you thinking back to the memories of when they were younger. You had been married to each other for about 3 years now and the love had only grown stronger. He was remembering the day your parents told you, you would get married to get other, you were both only 10 at the time.

“Why would I marry him? Ew.” You pulled a face at your mum, you just wanted to help her cook and now you had to get married when you were 18?

Gaming on the other hand had taken the news quite well. He may have been young but It didn't take a genius to figure out he had more than just platonic feelings from y/n.

“Dad? Why do we have to get married?” He said trying to match your tone.

“Well, it's good for both the families Gaming.”

He felt himself smile at you, seeing how cute you looked with your face all squished in concentration. “Hey, can you come try this?”

Gaming snapped out of his trance and walked over to you, and wrapped his arms around your waist. You handed him a new flavour of dim sum and he took it gratefully. His eyes widened as he remembered the flavour.

“Hey Gaming can you come try this.” Gaming’s mum called out.

The small boy bounced around the corner bursting with excitement. He was always so excited to try what she had made.

“It's very yummy mum!” Gaming's bright smile couldn’t be contained.

“I think your mum gave me that recipe.”

“It tastes exactly like hers. It's beautiful.” Tears almost started welling up in his eyes. These dumplings were one of the last things Gaming had left of her.

You saw the tears forming in his eyes and offered to make more if he wanted them. He just nodded at you with the puppy dog eyes.

“Gaming Gaming! Look what I made!” You came running out of the kitchen holding a plate of… sad… looking dim sums.

He tried not to grimace at the sight of them, He still wanted to make you happy so he slowly reached out and grabbed one. The dim sum was almost at his mouth. It touched his lips. Then went into his mouth,

He was very surprised that they tasted good, by the way they were presented.

“They’re amazing y/n!” He smiled the brightest smile you’d ever seen.

Taglist

@kpopmenace143

[weministertomonsters]

Naga Father (Araza) x gender-neutral reader - 2

"Just a few kids from school won't hurt, Mr. Araza. You have to give Sam a chance at a normal life," you say in exasperation, shaking some food into your cat's bowl and balancing the phone against your shoulder.

You've been babysitting Sam occasionally for a few months, enough to feel somewhat comfortable with pressing the subject of holding a birthday party for Sam.

"He's not normal," is Mr. Araza's reply, and you grit your teeth for a second before you blow your breath out slowly, forcing yourself to calm down.

"I know you're trying to toughen him up in your own way... But he's going to end up hating you if you don't ease up now and then. Sam is smart, you know. He can figure out how to live in a world of humans on his own."

"I know what's best for my son," Mr. Araza says, and you hear the shuffle of papers in the background.

"Oh, are you working? Did my call interrupt you? Sorry, I'll hang up now. Just think about it, okay?"

Before he has the chance to respond, you hang up.

"He's a tough nut to crack, Ginger," you say to your orange cat who is happily crunching down on his food. "I wonder what happened to make him like that?"

On a whim, you grab your phone and look his name up. There he is, featured in an article from a prominent news station. He was one of the two nagas rescued from a monster trafficking ring that got busted fifteen years ago. There's a picture of him with the other monsters that were rescued. He's staring blankly at the camera, a blanket wrapped around his thin shoulders. The other naga was too weak and passed away in the hospital. Everything makes sense now.

You put your phone down and stare hard at the wall. No wonder he's so fiercely protective of his son and pushing him to survive the best he can. Your phone buzzes and you look down to see a text from your best friend, Cora.

Hi Tobi, it reads, I know this is short notice, but I totally forgot I had a marriage counseling appointment today and we can't leave Annabelle alone! Do you have 2 hours to spare? I made chocolate chip cookies this morning!

A smile curves onto your lips and you type a reply.

I'll be there in 10 minutes

Cora only lives a couple of blocks away, so you end up walking there. Cora and her wife are in the driveway, ready to leave.

"Tobi, you're an angel!" Cora says, coming forward. "I present to you my devil spawn."

Annabelle squirms restlessly in her mother's grip, nibbling on her forearm. The five-year-old had new teeth coming in and apparently, her mother's arm is a serviceable chew toy.

"She's got a ton of energy today," you laugh and scoop her up.

The pup smells like baby shampoo and cookies. You wave her parents off and hoist her onto your shoulder.

"So what do you want to do?" You ask her.

"I want ice cream!" She yells, her knee catching you in the ribs.

"Oof. Isn't it a little too close to lunch?"

"I want a burger too! With cheese!"

"Demanding, aren't you? An alpha in the making for sure. Okay. We'll have burgers and ice cream. Just don't tell your mommy okay?"

She grins and nods. The commercial strip is within walking distance and even if it's a bit far away you figure Annabelle could use a long walk. As you walk together you're making a mental note not to marry a werewolf. Even a half-werewolf would be hyper, but Annabelle is out of this world. She's so bouncy that half the time her feet aren't even on the ground. You're forced to herd her around now and then so she doesn't hop off the sidewalk.

You're relieved when you reach the ice cream shop because it has a fenced-in playground.

"I'm going to make a sandcastle!" Annabelle shrieks, charging towards the sandbox.

"Okay, darling." You grab your phone and text Cora.

Bestie, what's up with Belle today?

Too much sugar :( my bad. I caved and let her have frosted flakes for breakfast Cora texts back.

Oh boy. Then ice cream is going to be a bad idea. Idly you walk up to the swings, wondering how you're going to convince her to get something else. And then you notice Mr. Araza and freeze. He pauses too, looking down at you. You have to put a hand up to your face to hide your grin because he's on the monkey bars. It's sturdy enough to hold his weight, but he looks ridiculous. His son is underneath, head craned up to look up at his father.

"Hello," you say politely.

"Papa is stuck," Sam says, turning to look at you. "Help him, Tobi."

You gulp down a burst of laughter and bite your lip hard, trying not to let your amusement show. Mr. Araza's golden eyes narrow, and his tongue flicks out, tasting the air. His eyes turn into annoyed slits and he lets out a huff. His tail is wound through the rather sophisticated monkey bars, and you can see he's stuck in more than one place.

"How did you even get up there?" You ask.

"I was... Teaching Sam how to climb," he says, and you can't help the small laugh you make this time.

"I do not find this humorous, neither should you," he hisses. "My tail is going numb. If it's not too much trouble, I would appreciate a hand."

You glance down at Sam. "Hey, I brought a friend with me, and she's the same age as you. Maybe you could play together?"

Sam looks doubtfully at Annabelle, who has forgotten about her sandcastle and is digging a hole in the sandbox. Then he nods and shyly slithers over to say hello. You turn back to Mr. Araza and put your game face on.

"How about I make you a deal? Promise to actually think about throwing a party for Sam, and I'll help you."

His pupils widen in shock. "You can't be serious," he scoffs.

You reach out and poke at his tail. "I dunno, Mr. Araza. You seem stuck pretty good."

"For heaven's sake," he rolls his eyes and his shoulders slump a little. "Fine. Quickly now, I look ridiculous."

You grin. "Then it's a deal," you say and walk around him in a slow circle, calculating.

You're not sure how you're going to get him out. The monkey bars are about six feet high, and he's right on top.

"Okay, I think I've got this," you say and begin to climb.

The next ten minutes are the most awkward ones of your life. You almost fall off twice. Mr. Araza twists his upper body to look at you, and his mouth turns down.

"You're going to hurt yourself this way."

"I'm good," you say, hooking your feet against the bars as you grab the thinnest section of his tail at the end. "You've kind of tied yourself into a knot here, mister," you tell him. "Can you move the end of your tail to the left?"

His tail moves, the end of it curling around your wrist.

"Okay," you mumble.

You succeed in freeing that section and move upwards.

"You're not a cat, you know. You can't fit in just any space," you tell him and you wrap your arms around his tail and press your chest against it like you're about to lift something really heavy.

Which is exactly what you're about to do. His tail is a solid hunk of muscle, his scales rasping against your bare arms. Maybe you press a little too hard or something, but he hisses and it's not a  normal hiss. It's a "get your fucking hands off me right now" kind of hiss.

You jerk your hands back. "Sorry, sorry," you say.

You have just touched softer, more sensitive parts of his tail where scales have been ripped away. Naga scales are incredibly hard to damage or remove but after your research this morning, you can guess how that happened.

His claws clank against the bars as he repositions himself. He won't look at you but maybe that's a good thing. If he looks at you, he'll be able to tell that you know.

"Just get on with it," he mumbles, wiping sweat from his forehead.

You take a deep breath and carry on. He doesn't make a single sound after that, not even when you have to pull so hard that he shudders.

"Need some help?" An employee from the ice cream shop calls over, finally having noticed.

"No, I've got it," you call back.

Just one more section to go. Araza is sprawled on the monkey bars, his torso pressing against them. That can't be comfortable. The way he's gone so still and pliant worries you.

"Are you okay?"

He nods, his hair falling over his face.

"Look at me," you command. "Please?"

He darts a furtive glance over his shoulder. His eyes are glassy, like he's partly somewhere else. Not good. Quickly, you balance your feet on the bars and tug. He comes free and falls off the monkey bars with a thud, taking you with him.

"We're okay," you say to Sam and Annabelle, who look up curiously.

"They're playing," Annabelle giggles to her new friend.

Sam looks worried, but then smiles and goes back to playing. You realize your legs are tangled up in his tail and gently extract them.

"You okay?"

He shoots upright, rolling over to the underside of his tail is against the floor.

"I'm fine. Thank you," he says airily, brushing leaves out of his hair.

All signs of vulnerability are gone.

"Great," you say, trying not to sound too bright as you stand up and dust yourself off. "I'm sure you won't do that again," you laugh.

He flexes his claws. "I have learned a valuable lesson. Your human trappings are terrible replacements for trees."

"Try a park next time," you suggest. "Were you here for ice cream?"

"I promised him a reward for his hard work in school. I did not think he would suggest such a ridiculous-"

"We're here for ice cream too!" You say brightly. "How about we all go in and get some?"

If Mr. Araza is about to protest, Annabelle's excited screaming knocks it out of him.

"Please do not tell me that is your child," he says flatly. "She is untrained."

"She's just a kid," you say. "She can be very loud, I'll give her that."

"Come on," you tell the two children, "let's go get ice cream."

Later on, after you've dropped off a sleeping Annabelle- amazingly enough - at her home and gone home with a gift of a box of chocolate chip cookies, you get a call from Mr. Araza.

"I have made up my mind," he says.

"About the birthday party?"

"Yes," he says, and you begin to dance in triumph.

"On one condition," he adds sharply. "I don't know what a party entails. I'll need your help."

"Oh, you don't have to ask twice!" You say happily.

Maybe the upright naga is finally warming up to a little living...

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

The amount of times I mention "ice cream" in here, lol! 😭

[maximumkillshot]

You Earned It!

Warnings: Fluff, of the tooth rotting variety

Pairing: None

Characters: Chan, Felix, Kate, Minho, Yeji

I Can't Lose You Masterlist-CLICK HERE

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ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

A/N: idklols asked:

Hey so my best friends bday is tmrw (Jan 17th) and so I don’t have any money so I’ve resorted to this (no offense I’ve read a story from u and it’s rlly amazing) but my bsf is in love with bang Chan (she also likes Felix) so i was wondering if you could make bangchan give her a surprised bday? (Also her name is Kate!! Tysm ig you get around to it!!)

Chan POV:

I have been trying to set this up for weeks and finally it’s happening. I hear my phone ring and I answer, balloons in hand. 

“Hey, have you heard from Kate yet?” I heard Felix ask. I could hear the background filled with activity as I loaded the car.

“Nothing aside from a good morning text, Yeji said that they were going on a shopping spree for her birthday, the others in Kate’s group are with them too. All Kate knows is that you, I and the boys are going to have a birthday dinner for her.”

I could hear the smile on his face as he said, “She has no clue this is going to be great,” I laughed with him as he said, “I just called to say the cake and brownies are almost done and Minho is getting started on prepping for dinner. So we are all on track over here.” 

I breathed a sigh of relief as I said, “Ok thanks Lix. I still have a few things to do. Then I’ll head over to decorate with Hannie and Hyunjin.” After I hung up I started the car and went on my way to grab some party favors. Kate has known us for a while. She was very young when we met, Barely past 10 years old. She was an aspiring idol. Just after we debuted, Kate came up to me in the practice room one day and introduced herself. I remember thinking how mature she was. 

She spoke with authority and confidence. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to learn, mature, adapt, and make it in this industry. I have always loved cultivating and teaching idols to do what they love, so when she asked me to mentor her, I was more than eager to help out. I can’t believe it’s already been 5 years. Now she has her own group that she leads. Their group is honestly astounding. The music is positive and uplifting, the moves are addicting, and much like my group, 98% of it is done by the members.

 After I pick up the favors I head to the DanceRacha house. The minute I park I am met with the members opening doors and grabbing items. I make my way in to find the space transformed into party central. The music is on low and Felix is filling a little table to the side with the sweets, including a cake that looked amazing, done by him, of course. Off to the other side of the living room are the beverages, and dead center is the dining table decorated in Kate’s favorite color. 

We also had a giant present pile over to the side. I made sure to put mine a little more forward in the pile. 

After I helped with the balloons I sent out the text to remind everyone that they had to park a little farther away to keep it a surprise. I had no clue why I was nervous. Maybe it had to do with the present. So many gifts were lavish, Louis Viton and Givenchy being bigger names in the pile. I don’t know if what I got was enough. 

Finally, once everyone was in it was time to have Yeji bring Kate back to the dorm. At the five minute mark we all took our positions, hiding well out of the way. The anticipation ramped up, to the point of us giggling every time we heard a car pull up. We get a knock at the door and Minho goes to open it non-chalantly. As soon as Kate walks in everyone pops up yelling “Surprise!!” That part took Kate off guard but she was tearing up and thanking everyone as she walked in. I was so excited for the presents. I really think that she’ll like it. 

After a few hours of food, dancing, and chatting, we got to blowing out the candles on the cake. After everyone got a slice she started opening presents. Some of them were amazing, designer purses, wallets, and glasses to match (Obviously Felix’s), all the way to designer belts, dresses, red bottom heels. The more of these I saw the more I wanted to just put my little envelope of a present back into my pocket and hide in the back. 

Before I could, she opened it. Minho demanded that she read it out loud. She started.. “Happy Birthday Kate!, I remember when I met you 5 years ago. You were a 10 year old promising talent. I remember you asking me if you had what it took to do what I do. I could see immediately that you had it. You work hard, you strive for perfection, and most of all, you always are willing to learn. I am so proud of you. You are a fantastic leader..” At that point I saw tears forming in her eyes as I smiled. 

She kept going, “You have an amazing heart, eye for talent, and not not mention you always are focused. You told me at that time, you wanted to be mentored by me. That you wanted to know if you made it or not from me only…” She looked up at me and I was fighting tears myself.

“That’s why I am happy to tell you that come your legal age, your group will be signed under our label. All you have to do is sign on the dotted line. Congratulations Kate! You made it! Happy Birthday!-Chan” She started sobbing along with her group. She didn’t know but I saw every move she made, and she’s ready, all of them are. That’s why I was rushing today. I went to my manager yesterday and we found the perfect manager for her group. We drew up the contracts today, which left me not a lot of time to finish the decoration hunt. 

A few seconds later I was taken out of my reminiscing by Kate thumping into my body, wrapping her arms around me as she said thank you… All I could say was “For what? You earned it!” 

It was true, she did earn it. The hours of practice, the drive to succeed. That was all her. Now comes the hard part, I know she’ll be fine though. I’ll always be here for her, I know she’ll be okay. I can’t wait to see what she comes up with.

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[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Clockwork. - OC Story

pairing: COD OC!Victoria "Whiskey" Callahan x Simon "Ghost" Riley bonus: MootOC!Meabh "Pirate" O'Malley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish words: 1.4k~ (on the dot, bby!) cw: canon simon backstory. + none. just toothrotting fluff.

December and May are Simon's least favourite months of the year.

December because it's the constant reminder of his family passing.

May because it's the constant reminder that he was the cause of all his family's issues.

Simon was born within days of his own father's birthday; "a late birthday present" everyone called it...

Nevermind the fact the druggie was too high to even attend his own son's birth, and that his mum had to get herself to the hospital alone, with a young Tommy tucked under her arm.

Simon had a bad birth, having breached feet first, and having to get rotated in utero, and then having been born with the umbilical chord around his neck, which meant he needed extra care afterward.

Simon needed to get surgery at age 3 because of tonsilitis.

Simon needed glasses growing up, which is mum could barely afford.

Simon had trouble saying his Ss, so for a long time, he got mocked at school for calling himself "Shimon"... and ended in him having speech classes.

Simon's grades were horrendous, and he had a tendency to get into fights at school, which caused his mum to have to take hours off work to come see his teachers.

Simon.

Simon.

Simon.

Always him, at the root of every problem.

And yet Simon was the only one in the house to raise his voice (and later his fists) at the drunk that was his father, which earned him countless trips to A&E.

Simon was the one with the neglected birthday, not because his mum and Tommy didn't remember, but because being right after his own father's, the leech would blow all their money on a rager, and leave the family unable to eat, let alone buy the boy a cake.

So Simon learned to not care.

Going into the Army, people didn't really show that big of a deal about it like they would at a normal job. Hard to, when you spend all your time fearing a bomb will fall on you or a bullet will bury itself on your body.

But then he went home, and when he kicked that bag of bones out of the house, and got Tommy into rehab... It got different. Got... better. The birthdays got easier. There were phone calls, and cards, and he actually... sort of... looked forward to it.

Whenever he'd be scheduled for leave, he'd go home, and mum would've bought them a cake and they'd sing happy birthday, and mum would give him things he needed; clothes, boots, they'd watch films together, she'd kiss his forehead so often...

Then, Beth came along. And now he suddenly was being forced fed cake and handed gifts that he had no clue what to do with... So his barracks suddenly had color. There were new towels, and little trinkets, picture frames with photos from home...

Then Joseph came, the little boy that had been the apple of his eye, that learned to talk in May, at 10 months old, and Simon got an e-mail with a video from them, where little Joseph mumbled his way past a 'SiSi!' while pointing at a picture of him in Tommy's phone... One of, if not the, best gift he'd ever received.

And they they were gone.

It only got so much worse after that night.

He swore he'd never celebrate his birthday again.

All he had ever loved had been stripped from him.

He wondered if it was his fault.

If he was, somehow, destined to bring bad luck to all those around him.

If he was, somehow, the root of all evil.

If, because he spited some God, all that he loved, all that he touched, was destined to die in his hands.

He spent three years locked in a haze. Mission to mission, job to job, move move move, and never stop.

He spent three Mays buried in work so he couldn't think, and buried in alcohol so he couldn't feel.

And then, on the fourth...

“He tried to get the radiophone off me, so I broke a couple of his fingers… And his wrist. And kicked him in the balls.”

“It's a… Mexican-style MRE. Has beans and cheddar cheese or something. It's the only one I actually don't mind eating. The others are disgusting.”

“That feels like a dig at my social skills.”

“I've been swimming since I was a girl. Navy made sense too.”

“Took a napalm bath.”

For once since that bloody fucking day, he actually wanted something more than to simply forget, to drink himself into a coma and only waking up days later with his phone ringing and Price talking about a new mission.

God, Victoria made him laugh. She made him roll his eyes. She made him scoff. She made him talk. She made him listen.

Of course he couldn't let that go... let her go.

Of course he went looking for her once he was on leave.

Of course he held her close for those two nights.

Of course he held her close in that safehouse.

Of course he bore his face out for her when he got shot.

Of course, of course, of course.

He didn't isolate anymore, every May after that.

Simon'd wake up on his birthday and throw back the covers and sit on the edge of the bed and before the thoughts got to him, she'd already be wrapping her arms around his midsection, and pressing her cheek to his back.

And he'd put his hands over hers, and hear her breathing, and her heartbeat pressed against his back... And he'd close his eyes.

They didn't need to speak.

Victoria never wished him a 'Happy Birthday', but she'd always make sure to bake him a little sweet treat for dinner.

They share it the same way they shared their ''wedding cake'': sat across from each other in their kitchen, with a backdrop of trees beside them, a single knife to cut a slice, feeding each other pieces off the blade.

And when the thoughts got to be too much, on his birthday or all throughout the month, he'd simply turn and look at her, cup her face in his hand, and look her in the eye...

In those moments, he wanted to say it, he could feel it in the tip of his tongue...

That he cherished her.

That he appreciated all she did.

That she kept him sane.

That she was the best thing to have ever happened to him.

That she was like a lighthouse when he felt like a bloody gondola lost at open sea (wildly unprepared and definitely about to tip over and drown).

That he'd die for her.

That he'd kill (and had killed, and would kill again) for her.

That even if there was nothing else to go on for... he'd keep going for her.

That he loved her.

The words were always at the tip of his tongue.

Not just then, but every day. At all points of the day.

Whenever they touched, he'd want to say it.

Whenever they spoke, he'd want to say it.

Whenever they'd lock eyes, he'd want to say it.

Whenever he breathed, he'd want to say it.

His tongue would swirl with the taste of it, of the love he felt for her...

But the words never really made it out...

But he knew. And she knew.

Extra:

Then the news came, the baby, Meabh, it was always go go go, on the move, at home, never time to rest, just Meabh and the baby, and Victoria and him, and...

By the time Simon noticed, Fiadh was here, lying in his arms, little hands closed into fists, her small wrapped in a white blanket with anchors and fishes drawn on it...

And he looked up at his wife who stood beside Meabh, doting on her best friend and caressing her head, cooing at her that she did a good job, the girl a bit dozy from exhaustion from the recent breast feeding...

And then at the clock on the wall, marking 00:13 of the 19th...

And he felt his eyes begin to prickle, his jaw clenching under his surgical mask...

He looked back down at his niece again, little blind blue eyes, the same ones that used to belong to his best friend, staring up at him...

Maybe he didn't hate his birthday so much anymore.

for you @loveandplanet for making me sad ; and also @crashtestbunny sorry for this :)

[heroes-of-olympus-next-gen]

Masterlist

Headcanons

Percabeth babies Solangelo babies

Zoe Sally Jackson part 1 part 2

Bianca Solace-di Angelo part 2

Solangelo as parents Solangelo in 2020 Lockdown Solangelo

The Heroes of Olympus + Next Gen head canons

Bianca’s first birthday May the fourth be with you

Charlie Jackson head canons

Rich Au – Annabeth Chase Rich Au – Percy Jackson

Will Solace headcanons

Theo Jackson headcanons

Ryder Solace-di Angelo headcanons

One shots (Solangelo)

Piano lessons

I love you

Welcome to surgery

Read me a bed time story

The Story about the Hunter of Artemis

Rings (one-shot)

Rings part 2

The End of An Era

The aunt I’ve never met

The World's best tattoo

Get the camera our baby is walking!

Ryder’s birth story

Do you want a new sibling?

I can’t leave her here

Early mornings like this one

A baby sent from the Gods

Austin, we’ve got a problem

Sisterly love

Growing up is all about growing old together with the same love as we started together.

Our baby is going to Harvard

And they called it puppy love

"The World's best dad?"

Just try and never grow up

Saying goodbye to the first boyfriend

First I didn’t get it, now I understand

home

One shots (Percabeth)

Coming out Lost things have a way of turning up

Happy birthday Percy/The best birthday present

I got you, Zoe You all over me

I thought that we had managed to work things out

What’s your last name? “I’m done! You can fix it.”

Why do they grow up so fast?

A much needed break Who knew dating was hard

The whole hunter situation

I felt like an old cardigan, but you put me on and said I was your favourite

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace? Mum, we’re having a baby Get together with friends

This isn't a baby shower

Parenting class

When you told me the whole story I felt like throwing up

Preparing for the wedding

Rehearsal dinner

Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

What about children? Little League

Prompt list

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” “But… I didn’t?”

"I remember kissing you. Why do I remember kissing you?"

Prompt 16: “Marry me.” / “We’re already married.” / “Marry me again.”

“I love you so, so much.”

I want to do this for the rest of my life

“You make me proud, you know that, right?”

“You smoke now?”

“Sleep is for the weak." & “And that’s how to ruin a life, Congratulations.”

“I wouldn’t forget you. Not if the whole world turned to ash.”

Prompt 21: “Look! Fireflies!”

Miss or Mrs

Boy Troubles

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Late night talking

Did he come home with a bloody nose

Who is babysitting?

Apollo Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 I’m here

Next gen

Our kids got into a fight

Going on Holidays with Everyone

“My parents are coming over in 10 minutes so please put some clothes on"

Chasing Cars

Next Chapter

Getting the wisdom out

You’re a pretty good older sister

“The skirt is supposed to be this short.”

Ryder breaking his leg

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

wishing the wonderful @flowercrowngods the happiest of birthdays 🥳🫶🤍 fair warning this quickly turned from 5k to 10 🙈 i hope it's not too boring 🤞 i tried my hardest to give you the angsty fic you asked for but i don't think it's my forte 🤷‍♀️ anyway happy birthday darling i hope you're having the best day 🤍

Steve's birthday started the same as all his birthdays had for as long as he could remember now; waking alone in his big old, empty house. Not that he could say he minded. His first ten birthdays had been pretty perfect, but his eleventh birthday changed everything. The only thing he'd asked for was a birthday sleepover with Tommy and his new school friends. It was all going amazing until late into the night, he and Tommy were laid awake, Tommy was telling him about how he was nervous to kiss Carol for the first time, when somehow, in a way Steve couldn't really remember, one of them had ended up suggesting that they practice together. 

They'd snuck off to the airing cupboard across the hall so their friends wouldn't see, what they hadn't considered was getting caught by Steve's parents. His mum hadn't said anything, just left quickly, leaving his dad to glare at him with that creepy polite smile he always had whenever Steve was going to get it as soon as they were alone. And he had, as soon as the house was empty, his dad yelled and yelled and yelled; about how kissing boys was unacceptable, how it was a sin, "Harrington's are family men, Steven!" A direct quote from the serial adulterer. 

It went on for two whole days, and then they never spoke of it again as though it'd never happened, but Steve wasn't allowed another sleepover nor was he allowed over to any of the other boys houses; which was how by his late teens he only had Tommy and Carol left as friends, they were the only ones who truly knew what went off in his house. And his birthday's hadn't been a big deal ever again, half the time his parents hadn't bothered to even be in the country; not that it made any difference to Steve, a birthday without their presence and constant judgement was already a happier day.

His alarm clock blaring pulled him from his musings back to the present. Not that he'd really needed the alarm, he rarely slept these days; it was more like a series of naps interspersed with part memories, part overactive imagination-induced night terrors. He poked an arm out of the covers, flicking the switch on the clock, yawning and stretching; feeling the pull on his freshly healed wounds. Clambering out of bed and scratching lazily at the stubble on his jawline as he headed into the en-suite; flicking on the stereo as he passed by just for something to fill the void.

Holding Back The Years was just beginning, as it often was these days. The one nighttime DJ who'd bothered to stick around seemed to think the song said "holding back the tears, because nothing here is gone." Idiot! The moron had some whole elaborate deluded idea that the song was some kind of metaphor to do with living with the aftermath of the quake or something, repeating the same nonsense every morning like if he kept saying it his theory would become true. 

Steve, however, had actually listened to the lyrics and recognised Mick (Hucknall) as a kindred spirit. He heard the pain of a child longing for parents that loved him, felt the pain for his younger self deep in his soul. He'd long since accepted that he'd never have that, that they'd had him solely for their image and let him go as soon as he didn't fit, but the song tended to just rip open the wound every time he heard it.

He turned on the shower, biting down hard on his lip to stop it quivering, testing the temperature with his hand and stepping under the spray. He knew they weren't worth being upset over, but it didn't take much to tip him over the edge these days, and he was very much hoping, as he had every morning, that this ritual he'd started would wash away the deep-seated sadness that he seemed to have stuck in his chest since the day they'd fought and lost. 

In a weird way his life was better now, sure he had flesh eating creatures and an alternate universe, but he also had people who loved him, people who appreciated him and depended on him. The scars of his shitty past didn't matter any more, not in the face of actual scars, not when the monster hunting them down was still out there, not when the people he loved needed someone to protect them.

He made quick work of washing his body, still gentle around his wounds. Eddie's exquisite sewing skills had more than done the trick at the time but all the strain he'd put on his body getting the five of them out of hell had ripped new holes into his skin and made a bigger mess than the bats ever had; it was only when he collapsed in the ER that any of them had even noticed he was bleeding again, the nurses had patched him back together, but his body was still tender. 

Just as he was shampooing his hair, the song changed again, only just about hearing Cyndi Lauper over the patter as he applied his conditioner. "If you're lost you can look, and you will find me, time after time", fresh tears quickly blurred his vision. Max. 

They'd been told off for the fifth time about having too many people visiting at once, Wendy threatened to never let any of them step foot in the building again, and they believed her too, just as the adults who still had jobs and needed to work had finally accepted that the kids could be there to be with the wounded in case they woke up. Nancy had sighed heavily but resigned herself to the job, not that it had taken her long to set up a visiting schedule; ten minutes of leaning over bits of paper with visiting times, days people could chauffeur, work and volunteer schedules, working out who could sit with who and when and she'd had it all figured out. 

They were just getting into the swing of things when El had snapped, hurling a plastic chair into the hospital wall, blood pouring from her nose, sucking in breaths like she'd just run a marathon before actually running from the room. Steve hadn't seen it happen, just heard the commotion through the wall and came running. No one had wanted to go after her; Mike, Dustin and Lucas all looking between each other like they were psychically discussing who'd drawn the short straw. 

Steve didn't bother to wait to find out what they'd decided, he'd just chased after her, finding her curled up in a ball in the corner of the corridor. He hadn't known what to say at first, "are you okay?" seemed like the dumbest question ever given the state of her. Plus he'd seen the two of them together when they'd had their day trip to the mall, he knew she was far from okay. He'd just knelt down beside her and wrapped her tightly in his arms when she'd mushed her face into his chest, stroking her back and rocking her slowly. 

Using his well versed technique of 'What Would Robin Do?' he asked what had happened. She just looked up at him with big sad eyes, a sob catching in her throat, her face crumpling as she'd broken down. Telling him that she couldn't find Max, that she'd been trying ever since she'd restarted Max's heart (with her mind!) but that she couldn't find her. She'd made him promise not to tell the others and as soon as he agreed, she'd promptly burst into uncontrollable sobs before he'd even had a chance to ask what that meant. All he could do was hope that Max wasn't either gone forever; or worse, stuck with One, enduring unimaginable torment.

The song had changed again as Steve switched off the water, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel securely around his waist. Switching on the tap to run a bowl of water and grabbing the shaving foam and his razor from the medicine cabinet; glancing as quickly and as efficiently as he could in the mirror, doing his best to avoid his own reflection. He knew he looked rough, he didn't need confirmation. The scars around his neck were gnarly, his eyes were bloodshot with thick black bags underneath, his hair limp and uncared for, obvious even fresh from the shower. Ugh!

He let Billy Ocean's soulful voice wash over him, focusing on making neat lines in the foam and trying his best not to nick himself. It wasn't a song he'd heard before, but he liked it, the tune was gentle, he found himself swaying slightly, waiting with the razor poised, "I always stop and think of you especially, when the words of a love song, touch the very heart of me". Huh!

He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, he was going to be late if he didn't get a move on and the less he thought about love songs making him cry, the better. The song ended, and the DJ signed off letting the commercials play. Steve headed into his bedroom, half-heartedly blow-drying his hair just enough to stop it dripping down his collar, throwing on his jeans and sweater. 

Flicking off the radio, he jogged down the stairs, clicking the red flashing button on the answering machine as he passed the telephone table on the way to the kitchen to throw some bread in the toaster. The last time he'd seen Joyce, she'd made him promise that he'd eat, so he was eating, dry toast wasn't his favourite thing in the whole world, but it was nourishment.

Beep. "Dingus!" Robin whispered into the phone, causing Steve to grin, "it's one minute past twelve, so I can officially say Happy Birthday! Okay, that's all I wanted. See you later, love you." Beep.

Beep. "Steve-o! Happy Birthday! See you later, man!" Beep. That kid, Steve thought shaking his head fondly to himself.

Beep. "Happy Birthday, Steve!" El mumbled, she barely spoke these days. He felt honoured. She was quickly interrupted by Hop, "Is that Steve?" he asked, "No, just the machine," she responded followed by sounds of the receiver being passed from one person to another, "Happy Birthday, kiddo, we'll see you later, okay?" Beep.

Steve couldn't fight the lump in his throat, he tried to swallow around it, but it wasn't going anywhere. They were just… he didn't have the words. It meant so much that they'd thought of him. That Robin had snuck out of bed, had probably sat up by the phone until the clock struck midnight to make sure he knew she was thinking of him. She really was the best friend he'd ever had.

And the kids! Dustin calling was probably what had woken him. He didn't know when he'd decided on Steve-o as a nickname, but he liked it regardless, it made him feel like one of the gang instead of just the babysitter. With El, Steve wasn't sure whether it was a teenage phase or not being able to find Max, but he'd barely heard a peep out of her since her breakdown, he just hoped it wasn't the latter, so they wouldn't lose both girls to this fight.

He pressed replay, warmth filling him as he listened to Robin's message again. He missed her terribly when they weren't together, and he'd seen less and less of her recently. She'd basically been on house arrest since the "quake" and given she wasn't ready to tell her parents what she'd told Steve whilst high on truth serum, Mr and Mrs Buckley basically thought he was about to become their son-in-law. 

Unfortunately, it meant he couldn't sneak over to her house to sleep any more like he had after the mall and the one time Robin had snuck out to sleep at his, her dad had been so worried he'd called the cops. Luckily, Hop had been the one to get the call, sighing heavily when he'd picked her up from the McMansion (as Steve's house had been dubbed by the kids) with a "Sorry kid, but her mom's practically hysterical. Come stay at the cabin, get a good night's rest."

For once, Steve had done as he was told. The Party was tighter than ever, but there were still the few with families who got caught on the edge's that kept the group from becoming a totally codependent pack. None of them slept well any more, not without being curled around one of the others. Robin and Dustin had it bad, unable to explain what was going on and trapped by parents who loved them too much to let them out of their sight, but Steve thought Erica had it the worst.

Lucas was out of his mind with worry over Max, her parents were holding her tighter than ever and her best friend had moved away. She couldn't use sleepovers as an excuse to escape her family's grasp like Robin and Dustin could, she was having terrible nightmares, lashing out and blaming everyone for the state of Max's health, Steve just wished she’d let it out properly before she exploded. He'd tried to get her to once, used one of Robin's new psychology tricks but got nothing out of her but some sassy comment and a glare.

His toast popping out of the toaster dragged him out of his musings, tucking the dry, warm bread into a napkin, he grabbed his keys off the hook and headed out to the car. The sun was barely in the sky, but it was already unbearably warm, he was glad to be spending the day indoors. He liked being out early, the world seemed almost peaceful before the rest of the town had a chance to get out of bed. Normally he'd drive without the radio on, just with the window rolled down, letting the breeze finish drying his hair, enjoying the sounds of the world waking up, the birds singing, the wind rustling the trees, the roar of the beemers engine, but that damn song had turned into an earworm, just that little bit of melody and "saying I love you, I love you" whizzing around and around his head.

He sighed and flicked the radio on, the funky beat of Kiss making his head bounce, only being able to resist for a second before he was smacking the steering wheel in time with the beat. Steve couldn't think about much else with Prince singing in his ears, the sun beating down on his arm that dangled out of the open window, warming him as he bopped along. "I want to be your fantasy, maybe you could be mine. You just leave it all up to me, we could have a good time!" Steve hollered along, catching the attention of old Mr Baker, who was bent down collecting his paper as he sped by. He smirked at the old man's face as he caught him grumbling in the rearview mirror, making Steve chuckle.

The song was just ending as he pulled into the parking lot, it was always blissfully empty this early, just the cars of the staff and the overnight visitors. He threw the car into park as Let's Hear It For The Boy started, he contemplated sitting in the car just to listen, but he knew the song well enough, and he was edging ever closer to being late. Steve found he almost had a spring in his step as he switched off the engine and clambered out of the car, being careful as he crossed the road, the peppy tune well and truly stuck in his head. 

He waved to Edna at the front desk as he headed for the stairs (no way was he getting in a lift ever again, not after the last time) hearing Deniece Williams clearly in his mind as he turned the corner and all but hopped up the staircase, muttering "Maybe he's no Romeo, but he's my love and one man show, oh oh oh oh, let's hear it for the boy!" pausing on the step to wiggle along to the music in his head. One of the nurse's smirked at him as she skipped down the stairs, passing him with a giggle. Not that he minded he'd been reliably informed he was a good dancer, it did make him wonder if maybe he was finally losing it though, taking the rest of the steps two at a time, shaking his head trying to clear it. This is a hospital, for god's sake! What’s wrong with you?

Drifting quickly down the corridor, Steve gave a quick nod to Nurse Wendy, she was one of Owens’ and seemed to find the hospital environment rather alien, she didn't appreciate anything other than cordiality and silence while she worked. Sliding open the door, Steve found Wayne sitting as he always was in an uncomfortable plastic chair by Eddie's bedside; chatting aimlessly to his nephew and yawning every few words. 

He, Dustin and Steve had become close over the past few weeks, each taking turns to keep Eddie company. Wayne hadn’t wanted Steve anywhere near his nephew at first, not that Steve had been surprised by his reaction, hurt maybe but unsurprised. Wayne had relented when Dustin had regaled him with Steve’s “heroism” but Robin had been the one to convince Wayne that Steve was their friend, that he wasn't the dickhead jock who'd stood by and done nothing as Tommy had made Eddie's life hell; and that he was certainly nothing like the elder Harrington. Wayne had relented quickly, had warmed to Steve faster than he'd ever dared to hope, now he thought Wayne might even like him, just a little bit, even if it was because as Wayne put it, "well, at least you've got better taste in sports than you had in friends".

"G'Mornin'" Steve greeted, once Wayne finished with his tale. His stories were amazing, at first he’d started with just random tales but eventually when they realised it was going to take longer than any of them hoped for Eddie to wake, he’d started as far back as he could remember and was just slowly retelling his whole life story. Steve thought he should write a book, his life was fascinating and the more he listened, the more it was obvious where Eddie had got his storytelling abilities.

"Mornin'" Wayne returned, stretching his back before standing with a creak and a groan.

"No change?" Steve asked, looking over to Eddie's pale, sleeping form.

"No change," Wayne confirmed with a sigh.

Steve hummed, just watching Eddie for a second, hoping for a twitch, a flicker, anything really. Just any sign of life that he'd been praying for since cracked ribs and a ten minute repeat of “one and two and three” and screams to “drive faster!” Eddie didn't move, not more than the slow rise and fall of his gentle breathing that hadn't changed since he got out of surgery; Wayne did though, patting Steve on the shoulder as he passed by him with a quiet "G'night, son," successfully snapping Steve back into the moment. 

He turned quickly to catch Wayne on his way out, a fragile smile on his face and a lump forming in his throat, "Night, Wayne. Drive safe," Steve pleaded quietly. Wayne was as much one of them as Eddie was now, and the last thing any of them needed was more heartache. Wayne nodded with a slight smile, closing the door with a quiet snick, the noise kicking Steve into action; he rounded the bed picking up the tattered copy of The Hobbit off the bedside table and landing heavily in the still warm chair and flipping the book open in his lap.

Wayne might be a natural storyteller but not Steve, his childhood stories were either sad or stupid, but none of that mattered because here in this little cold side room all Steve could think was a repeat of please wake up. 

He was taking his first shift of watching over Eddie when he'd first spotted the book sticking out the top of the bag Wayne had brought for Eddie when he’d heard he was in the hospital. Honestly, Steve thought it looked like more of a go bag; Max’s bag was full of pyjamas and a dressing gown and slippers, a soft toy or two and some of her comics. Eddie’s bag was full of clothes, at least four pairs of jeans, a couple hoodies, a winter coat, underwear and cassettes. And the book, of course.

Steve wasn't much of a reader, he’d always hated assignments at school where reading an actual book was necessary, but he couldn't stand the silence, and he couldn't think of anything to say and Owens had said the best thing they could do was keep talking to him so he'd started to read. He was rubbish at it, stumbling every few words and making humming sounds every time he came across a word he didn't know or couldn't pronounce, but it filled the silence and given how dog-eared the pages were it was obviously a favourite of Eddie's, so he could only hope it was bringing him some comfort, wherever he was.

"Good morning, Edwin. How're you feeling, hmm? Comfy? It's a lovely day today, blue skies and green leaves, it's gonna be a warm one. It's my birthday, you know? Robin left a nice message, and the kids too. I wonder if I'll get a cake? I've never had a birthday with real friends before! I don't really know what to expect, but you've had your little club for a long time, you'd know, maybe you could wake up and tell me, hm? That'd be nice. No pressure though. How about we read some more? I quite like this book. I've never really had a favourite book, not since I grew out of the Mr Men ones anyway, but this one's good. Let's see where were we?"

Steve got as comfortable as he could on the crappy hospital furniture, flipped to the page he'd marked with a cafeteria napkin and began to read, letting the words flow over him and paint a picture of a group of disparates on an adventure together. He thought they were sort've like The Party, none of them really fit together either, not on paper anyway, but somehow it just worked; they, too, each had their own strengths vital for their collective survival. 

It saddened him in a way to think that if none of the Upside Down stuff had happened, that he wouldn't have any of this. As fucked up as this was right now, with Eddie and Max still unconscious; to not be called Dingus, or son, or Steve-o, that’s just not a life he’d want. Nor would he want a life without a platonic soulmate or a whole gaggle of little siblings. Without two mums and two dads, none of whom were biological, but parents in all the ways his never were. Without three older siblings in Argyle and Jon and Nancy because it wasn't half as weird as they all expected it to be; because none of them were those people any more. Those stupid teenagers were long dead, the shit they’d been through together far stronger than any hormonal teenage dickheadery.

He especially wouldn't want to be without an idiot who doesn't listen when Steve says don't be a hero because he also loves Dustin; because down to a choice of himself or their little brother he would always put himself in the firing line and as much as Steve had raged that Eddie was a dumbass, as soon as Robin had twisted it around, Steve hadn't been able to honestly say that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing.

That didn't mean he didn't wish he could trade places with Eddie, didn't mean he didn't wish they'd had more time to get to know each other, didn't mean he didn't spend every spare second thinking about that walk to the Wheeler's, didn't mean he couldn't stop wishing Eddie would wake up, didn't mean he didn't hope for something more he could do to drag Eddie back into consciousness, just to hear his voice one more time, didn't mean he didn't wish he'd stayed with the boys, didn't mean he didn't yearn to know what Eddie had meant to say in that pause before he'd said "Make him pay!"

Steve realised he'd stopped reading, flicked over the page and picked up where Bilbo was imagining summer in his home, the same type of summer that was streaming through the hospital window, bathing Eddie’s sickly form in warm light. Steve hoped that wherever Eddie was, that he was somewhere happy, maybe he was berry picking with his uncle or playing with his band, maybe he was rough housing with Dustin while Steve and Robin watched on. 

He hadn't dared to ask El if she could find him, he couldn't bear to think they were both stuck somewhere unreachable, he wasn't sure his heart couldn't take it. 

He swiped roughly at his damp cheeks, swallowing hard, wiping the pages dry and smiling waterily at the group finding shelter and finally relaxing, creating smoke rings and thinking of Eddie doing the same thing at the last party they'd both been at. All the girls had gone wild and Steve chuckled to himself, knowing now that this book full of mythical creatures was where Eddie had probably got the inspiration, knowing how many hours Eddie must've taken to perfect his technique, knowing the girls who'd oohed and ahhed, knowing that most of them had never read a book in their lives, it was just funny. 

That was until it all went to shit for the allies; Steve read faster and faster, hoping that they'd make it safely out of the tunnels, thinking of the tunnels he'd fought in with the kids, remembering that moment he'd thought he and Dustin were toast, still able to feel the Demodogs racing by them. Then Bilbo was falling, and suddenly he was as unconscious as the boy in front of him. 

Steve sighed and shifted, leaning the book against Eddie's too still leg, he never thought he'd miss someone's nervous energy but even when Eddie had been still and quiet his leg would still always bounce, or his fingers would drum, it used to drive him crazy back in school, he used to wish the other boy would just sit still, mainly because he was struggling to concentrate, and the constant movement was a distraction, but now he longed for some form of movement, anything to add to the consistent rise and fall. 

Steve would usually keep the book up in front of his face so that lack of anything wasn't quite so obvious, but his back was aching and begging to be stretched, so Steve leaned his elbows on the bed either side of the book, propping his head up in his hands, trying to read the words faster in some bizarre hope that if Bilbo survived the pitch black alone that Eddie might too. The Gollum creature just was creepy, with the hissing and the glowing eyes and calling himself precious, it didn’t endear itself to Steve when Bilbo started a back and forth of riddles with it, the narrator commenting that because the reader was comfortable that the answers were somehow obvious.

“Not obvious to everyone,” Steve muttered mainly to himself, “I bet you knew these the first time you read them though, didn’t you Eds?" he asked just for something to say while he found his place again.

"No," muttered so softly and raspily it was almost inaudible, Steve's head snapping up to look at Eddie's face.

"Eddie? Did you speak, or have I finally lost it?" Steve asked disbelievingly. Eddie didn't speak again, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, puffing out a breath that could've been a laugh, immediately sucking one in through his teeth, hissing in pain.

"Wendy!" Steve screamed, jumping up and slamming the red button on the wall, only realising as he did that he'd wrenched his fingers from Eddie's grasp. Leaning his elbow by the side of Eddie's pillow, Steve peered down at him, placing his hand back into Eddie's, "Can you hear me, Eds?" he asked gently. Eddie made a rumbling sound followed by a quivering lip and a whine. "No, no. Don't try to talk, man. Can you squeeze my hand?" Steve asked, running his fingers carefully through Eddie's now sweaty hair, brushing it away from his face and neck. Eddie squeezed his fingers hard, choking a laugh out of Steve as his throat tightened, only realising he was crying when a tear splashed down onto Eddie's cheek, an intense feeling of relief and joy sweeping over him.

Steve had just enough time to wipe the moisture from Eddie's cheek before all hell let loose, nurses and doctors bustling in, Wendy gently removing Steve from Eddie's bedside but not from the room. His mind was racing, unable to really grasp onto anything, just watching detachedly as the professionals adjusted wires and tubes pressing buttons on machines, taking liquids from bottles with syringes and all Steve could think was that he was glad Wayne wasn't there to witness the chaos.

And all of a sudden, it hit Steve like a freight train. Wayne. He needed to know, but Steve was terrified that if he left the room that he'd wake up back in his bed, that Eddie wouldn’t have woken and that they’d be back stuck in the limbo that he might never wake. Steve glanced at the clock, knowing by the time that Dustin and Lucas should be next door watching over Max; it was unusual that they hadn’t come to check on Eddie, but if there had been traffic they just might not have had time.

"Dustin!" Steve yelled through the wall, one of the nurse's turning to snarl at him with a tut, obviously for being loud, but Steve couldn't have given less of a fuck, he just pulled a face at her behind her back when she turned back to Eddie. 

Dustin slammed into the room in less than a few seconds, clocking the chaos around Eddie and looking to Steve with wide, frightened eyes.

"He's awake, call Wayne," Steve instructed, Dustin didn't argue, didn’t fight the grin splitting his face either, "The plant or yours?" is all he asked. Steve was so grateful for this kid, glad in that moment that his little brother was a fucking genius. "Mine," Steve didn't even have time to finish the word before Dustin was gone from the door frame.

There was a bit more hustling around the bed before slowly but surely the nurses and doctors started to file back out, leaving Owens and a once again unconscious Eddie.

"What did you do?" Steve raged, his voice so low and hard it was hardly recognisable even to his own ears. Owens at least had the good sense to approach slowly, hands up and placating, except Steve couldn't hear him over the blood rushing in his ears, panic and fury blurring his senses.

"...ve, Steve, Steven!"

His eyes snap from Eddie's form where he'd been desperately watching Eddie's chest rise and fall, to Owens, who swallowed visibly and took a step backwards.

"We didn't do anything, Steve. I know he's been asleep for a long time, but it's going to take a while for him to get used to being awake again. He's just resting right now; healing like he's supposed to. Now he's regained consciousness, his chances are much better. We're not out the woods yet, but we're a step closer, okay? I'll check in again later, alright?" Owens said calmly as he backed out of the room, leaving Steve alone to nod to himself.

Steve didn’t know how long he stood there nodding to himself, the next thing he acknowledged was Dustin crashing back into the room, all but ready to throw himself at Eddie. Steve quickly stepped between them, blocking Dustin’s path. He parroted everything Owens told him and only allowed himself a breath when Dustin grinned toothily. And Steve, even though he couldn't quite believe what just happened, couldn't help but grin back.

"What a birthday present, huh?" Dustin teased, as he headed out the door back to Max's room.

Steve's hands landed automatically on his hips, yelling after him to shut up, even though he could hear Dustin cackling and feel his own cheeks burning, fucking smartass. 

He sighed, mentally arguing with the kid, desperately trying to come up with a response for next time, when Wayne came dashing in; Steve suddenly felt guilty for disturbing him, but he had promised he'd call if Eddie even so much as twitched. He repeated to Wayne what had happened in as much detail as he could remember, Wayne's smile growing and growing until it looked like his face might split in two, he grabbed Steve around the head and kissed him firmly on the forehead with a relieved “Thank you.” Steve’s brain shorted out when Wayne pulled him into a hug, all he could do was blink owlishly at the wall until his brain kicked in, and he wrapped his arms around Wayne purely on instinct, Wayne squeezing him tight before letting him go. 

He insisted on staying, much to Steve's dismay given the poor man had already been up all night and that he couldn't have had more than a few hours sleep, but he just waved Steve off, merely reiterating that he can sleep anywhere, that he'd been in the army, snd that he didn't need a cushty bed. 

Wayne had only caved about staying at the McMansion after the third or fourth day in that godawful chair, and then he had bemoaned that beds that comfortable should be illegal, that he'd been spoiled for life; Steve had just mentally renamed the spare room "Wayne's room", he knew Owens was sorting them some new accommodation, but he was kind of hoping he and Eddie would choose to stay. 

The house had never felt emptier since his parents phone call, they hadn't even tried to get a hold of him really, they'd just left a message saying that they'd heard about the quake, requesting he give them a call to let them know if there'd been any damage to the property, so they could claim on the insurance. Steve had nearly thrown the answering machine at the wall. Robin had just sighed, told him she didn't know why he continued to let them disappoint him when he had all the family he'd ever need. He knew she was right, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. He hadn't bothered to call them back, and he hadn't heard from them since.

Wayne went down to the phones to call in sick then folded himself into the bedside chair, the one that was technically meant for patients, not that any of them had dared to use it for fear that they’d get too comfortable and nod off and miss out on any changes, but Wayne trusted Steve to wake him, he just wanted to be here to see his nephew. Steve couldn't blame him.

He gently placed his plastic chair back next to the bed, he hadn't realised he'd flung it across the room when he'd jumped up earlier. Both Munson's were sleeping peacefully and although a little piece of Steve's soul had settled, he still felt jittery in the almost silence. He grabbed the book back from the night stand, unsure as to how it'd ended up there, flicking through the pages trying to see where he'd last got to.

He propped the book back against Eddie's thigh, tucking his feet under his chair and resting his elbows on the edge of the bed. Originally, he started off reading to himself, not wanting to disturb either of them. He found he could actually read quite quickly to himself, and got through a whole chunk of the story just muttering commentary on the story to himself. But eventually, his eyes started to get tired, and he just started mumbling along with the story, trying desperately to stay awake. 

"How the fuck are you supposed to say that? Eye-ry, ear-ry, err-ry, I don't fucking know, I'm not entirely sure what that's even supposed to be," Steve muttered with a sigh.

"It's their nest," Eddie whispered, rasping and hoarse, tightening his grip on Steve's fingers, where he'd once again been absentmindedly stroking up and down Eddie's hand while he read.

Steve sat up straighter, so he could reach the glass of water with a straw that'd been left on the table, pressing the straw gently against Eddie's lips, "Hey, you," he said softly, "only sips, Eds, or you'll make yourself sick," he murmured putting the glass back on the side when Eddie let go of the straw.

"Thanks, man," Eddie murmured and sighed, sinking back into the pillow. Steve turned to give Wayne a nudge when Eddie squeezed his hand hard, "Don't," he pleaded. Steve hesitated but found he couldn't deny Eddie anything and was rewarded with a soft smile when Steve turned back to him, "He okay?" he asked.

Nodding, Steve ran his thumb over the back of Eddie's hand, "Yeah, we're taking good care of him," he promised.

Eddie hummed, tried to smile again, but it was obvious how much effort it was taking, "'nd Dust'n?" he mumbled, eyes drifting closed.

Steve couldn't help smiling to himself, "Next door, watching over Max."

Eddie's eyes sprung open, "Not Red?" he whined, big brown eyes sadder than Steve had ever seen them.

"'fraid so. She'll be okay though, she's a fighter like you!" Steve muttered, determination lacing his tone because he believed you had to believe something wholeheartedly if you wanted it to go your way.

Eddie let out a little sceptical huff, eyes already closed and breaths evening out. Steve was just about to go back to reading quietly when Eddie made a little incoherent noise. "Hm? You need something, Eds?" Steve asked quietly, standing to lean over him, brushing his hair away from his face where it'd got stuck to his cheek when he'd turned to look at Wayne.

"'m sorry," Eddie murmured, trying to open his eyes, Steve just huffed out a humourless laugh, sitting back down. 

"Nah, man, got nothing to be sorry for," he muttered, swallowing around the lump in his throat, "Go back to sleep," he whispered, stroking the back of Eddie's hand rhythmically. Eddie listened this time, whether through choice or sheer exhaustion, Steve didn't know, he was just glad Eddie was resting.

Steve took a deep breath, scrubbing his spare hand over his face, he didn't know what was wrong with him today. Eddie was fine, he was on the mend, there was no reason to be upset, yet he couldn't stop the tears rolling down his cheeks. He wasn't sad exactly, it all just felt like too much, all the previous weeks of worry, the lack of sleep, the constant stress of it all going to hell again before they even had chance to recover. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder, Dustin tended to pop in at lunchtime to give Steve a chance to get some lunch and stretch his legs. But being met with those big concerned eyes just tipped the scales in the wrong direction, he grabbed Dustin round the middle and pulled him into his arms. 

"What's wrong?" Dustin whispered, rubbing Steve's back soothingly, which just made him feel all the more guilty because he was supposed to be the strong one for the kids, not the other way around.

"Nothing," Steve murmured, sucking in a deep breath and coughing around the lump in his throat, pushing the feelings as far down as he could, letting Dustin go with a pat on his shoulder, "Nothing, I'm fine, everything's fine," he lied.

Dustin obviously saw through it but didn't push him, just demanded a Coke from the cafeteria as Steve got up and headed for the door, making him laugh. Steve loved him so much, especially when he was a little shit.

Heading straight to the bathroom, Steve splashed cold water on his face, leaning on the sink and looking at himself in the mirror. It'd been years since he looked this rough, his hair floppy and dry as hell, black and bloodshot eyes from the lack of sleep, even his skin wasn't quite the colour it was supposed to be but eating dry toast in your car and crappy hospital sandwiches will do that, he supposed.

He sighed heavily, pushing off the sink, he headed to the cafeteria, grabbing lunch for the four of them and Dustin's Coke, picking up a Diet one too just to annoy him with, in the hopes his moaning and whinging would buoy him for the rest of the day. 

Steve bobbed in to eat lunch with Lucas and spend some time with him and Max like he always did, before heading back to relieve Dustin. Lucas barely wanted to talk these days, just wanted to continue to read to Max in the hopes that she could hear them.

Knowing what El had told him just made him feel guilty, but he’d promised he wouldn't say anything and given there wasn't anything else he could do for her, in the very least it was making Lucas feel useful. If anything Steve thought he sounded a little more annoyed than usual today, but he didn't dare to ask, he just put it down to the fact that Eddie had come back while Max was still lost.

Wayne was awake and chatting with Dustin and Eddie when Steve got back. They all looked tired, but they were smiling, even if they did have tear tracks down their faces. Steve didn't say anything, just squeezed Eddie's foot as he passed by him handing Wayne and Dustin their lunch, who as suspected kicked off about his drink giving them all something to giggle about until he pulled out the red can, the petulant look on Dustin’s face making the three adults in the room laugh harder.

Eddie soon fell back asleep, then after they’d eaten Dustin went back to Max and Wayne decided he was going to find some decent coffee, which was code for he was going for a smoke. Steve sighed as everything settled down again, back to the normal they'd settled into over the past few weeks, except he felt free now to get comfortable in his chair resting his head on his folded arms on the side of the bed. He told himself he wasn't sleeping, just resting his eyes, but Robin made him jump when she came bounding into the room.

"Happy Birthday, Dingus!" she yelled, waking both him and Eddie with a start.

"Jesus, Bobs, shh," Steve chastised, trying to soothe Eddie back to sleep by rubbing his thumb across his knuckles where their hands had yet again ended up connected.

"Sorry," she muttered, not sounding sorry in the slightest. It'd been her way of trying to wake Eddie and Max, blasting into their rooms all loud and full of energy, like a kids entertainer at a birthday party.

"Mornin' Edwin, done sleeping?" she teased, waggling his toes, Steve knew she wanted to hug him, but Eddie's legs were the only place he hadn't been bitten, and she didn't want to hurt him like she had Steve when they'd finally got Eddie to the hospital, and she'd all but thrown herself at him; he'd hissed involuntarily, and she'd cried for an hour even though the pain had gone before she'd even had chance to let go.

"Stop tiring him out, he's supposed to be resting," Steve grouched, reluctantly letting go of Eddie, standing up to grab another plastic chair for her to sit beside him at Eddie's bedside.

She tutted and rolled her eyes dramatically before all but flopping into the hard chair, making Steve wince on her behalf. Now he'd sat back in his chair he didn't know what to do with his arms, it felt weird to reach across and take Eddie's hand, folding them over his chest felt too confrontational, letting them flop by his sides felt weird, finally settling on placing them in his lap. 

Robin was just watching him amusedly, "So, having a good birthday?" she asked with a smirk. All he could do was narrow his eyes at her, Wayne was back and watching them knowingly, trying not to smile. 

Steve looked between the two of them before shrugging as nonchalantly as he could manage, "Better than last year," he answered not half as blasé as he would've liked, it wasn't exactly a lie given anything would've been better than last year when everyone had forgotten.

Robin just hummed thoughtfully, leaving them in uncomfortable silence. She'd been a nightmare since she’d started reading psychology books; she was worried about their collective mental health and wanted to have constructive ways to help, but it seemed to Steve that she was just using everything she was learning to torture him.

"How's your mom and dad?" Steve asked, trying to deflect onto a new topic.

"They're good," she replied, letting the silence linger, glancing at Wayne with a playful smile.

The silence was deafening, it made him want to babble endlessly and at the same time say nothing at all, just out of sheer stubbornness.

Luckily, he was saved from their torture by Mike, El and Will, the three of them came in every day to check on Eddie before going to see Max; which Steve thought was sweet given Mike was the only one who actually knew Eddie. He just knew Eddie was going to adore Will, they were like peas in a pod, and he couldn't wait for them to meet properly.

"Dustin said he woke up," Mike said as though that was his excuse for being there, not that it was something as wild as him caring whether Eddie lived or not.

"'m here, y'know," Eddie grumbled, making Mike's whole face light up.

"Eddie!" Mike cheered, heading towards him for a hug.

"Careful!" Steve yelled automatically, Mike pausing mid-step to glare at him.

"I know!" he snapped, carefully placing his hands either side of Eddie's shoulders and leaning gently into him.

"How're you, man?" Mike enquired, purposefully ignoring everyone else in the room, while Steve purposefully ignored Wayne and Robin's knowing gaze.

"Not dead!" Eddie teased, finally prying his eyes open, looking behind Mike at Will and El who waved warmly. "Hi," Eddie croaked, Mike grabbed the drink off the bedside and placed the straw against Eddie's lips.

"This is El and Will, y’know? The ones I told you about," Mike reminded him, focusing on the water leaving the glass.

Eddie just hummed, releasing the straw, doing his best to smile at the newcomers, his eyelids drooping.

Steve had already had enough, Eddie was supposed to be sleeping so he could heal, "Alright, you three, he needs his rest. Visiting's over. Out! Go harass Dustin!" Steve demanded, standing to physically shoo them out the door while Robin and Wayne giggled.

"Don't make me throw you out, too, Buckley!" he threatened, pointing at her with a hand on his hip as the door slid shut behind the kids.

She lifted her hands placatingly, with a delighted smirk, "Here, sit. I've brought your gift," she announced, gesturing to his chair.

Steve couldn't help the endeared smile splitting his face; he hadn't had a birthday present in a long time, his parents just added money to his account, he had no other family, and he hadn't got one from a friend since Tommy.

Robin reached into her bag and pulled out a rectangular box wrapped in blue paper, "It's not much, and I know nothing could top waking from a coma," she muttered rolling her eyes playfully in Eddie's direction, "but I hope you like it," she added with a soft smile.

Steve felt his lip quiver again, biting on it hard enough he tasted iron. He didn't care what was in the box, well he cared, he just didn't mind if the box was the present, he already had the best friend in the whole world, what else could he want. He smiled gratefully at her, hoping she could see without him needing to say it, before tearing off the blue wrapping and lifting the lid.

As soon as he saw what was in the box, tears started to fill his eyes, blurring his vision, no amount of self-control would be able to stop the wave of gratitude for the girl in front of him.

"Sorry it's a bit homemade," she mumbled as he continued to stare at his gift. All Steve could do was shake his head, a smile on his face even as tears poured down his face, tugging her into an awkward hug over the box.

"It's the best," he whispered, releasing her to stare down in awe at his present again. It was a picture frame, but inside was all bits of their friendship; a few Polaroids of the two of them, a napkin from Scoops, their name badges sitting side by side in the middle, tickets from the Star Wars movie they went to see together, quotes from songs they loved written on Family Video receipts, the dried flowers of the daisy chain he'd made her while they were hanging out in her garden, the matching friendship bracelets they'd bought from that street artist when they'd gone to Indy last year and immediately lost, newspaper clippings of a game they'd both played at, a little picture of Kermit the frog. 'The Band Geek And The Jock' written across the top of the frame in bubble writing, and 'Platonic With A Capital P' written across the bottom.

He felt the sob hiccup out of his chest, too overwhelmed to do anything to stop it. Knowing it was the most thoughtful gift he'd ever received, he wondered how he was even supposed to begin to thank her.

Looking up at his little miracle, he saw her watching him with sad concerned eyes, "You can just say if you think it's awful," she joked, making a tearful laugh burst out of him.

Shaking his head, he swallowed hard, "It's wonderful. You're wonderful. How'd I get so lucky, huh?" he asked rhetorically pulling her into another hug, "Thank you," he murmured, hugging her tighter, wanting to snuggle into her neck but not wanting to get snot on her top or in her hair, he let her go.

Eddie whined, demanding their attention. He was awake, watching him and Robin with the softest fond expression, opening and closing his hand like Holly used to when she wanted something. Steve automatically placed his hand in Eddie's causing a choked little sound to come out of the three of them, only for him to realise that Eddie probably wanted to see the frame, his cheeks flushed crimson and just as he was about to let go, both Robin and Wayne put a supportive hand on either of his shoulders, starting up a conversation between themselves about the latest conspiracy theory to be printed in the local paper.

Steve stayed perfectly still, afraid of breaking the moment. He'd never felt safer, more loved or supported as he did right then, than he had in his entire life, and it was almost bizarre how these three random people he'd barely known a year ago could give that to him so easily. Eddie squeezed his hand gently, blinking owlishly with a soft smile. Steve gently lifted his present onto Eddie's stomach, so he could see it, he tried to lift his other hand up to touch the frame, but it was proving too much, drifting off again with his dimples on display and a gentle hum.

Taking the gift back and placing it carefully back into the box to keep it safe, placing it on the bedside with The Hobbit knowing he wouldn't miss it there when he headed home later. Robin was still deep in conversation with Wayne, telling him about her grandma's worries about their safety after the "quake", Steve already knew that she wanted them to move away, Robin had called him in a panic when she'd heard her parents discussing whether they should.

He caught Robin's eye and gestured to the door, slipping out when she smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. Slipping the door shut behind him, Steve hurried towards the bathroom, he just needed a minute, but a familiar curly head of hair was already pushing open the door. Turning on his heel, his sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor, he headed toward the exit only to bump into Wendy giving Sam an update on Max. The breath was coming shorter and shorter in his chest as he blindly opened the nearest door stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him; sliding down the painted wood to the cold floor, knocking his knee on a bucket because by some streak of luck, Steve found himself in the janitor's closet.

It was all just too much and the thing was none of it was bad, everything was so, so good, the nicest present he'd ever had, Eddie waking up after what felt like forever, the love and support of the people he now classed as family. He had no idea why it felt like there was an elephant sitting on his chest or like he'd had a rock semi-permanently lodged in his throat since he'd woken up. It just hadn't really felt real until now, the few nice dreams he had had been of Eddie waking up or him never getting hurt in the first place, of waking curled around each other, of Eddie smiling at him the way he had in the RV, the way he had on their walk to the Wheeler's house, the way he used to in the cafeteria. 

And he hadn't really needed to deal with the feelings those dreams had brought up until he'd put his hand in Eddie's, and they'd all made that okay. With Eddie, it'd be possible to blame the drugs he's being pumped with to keep him comfortable, but Steve knew that Wayne knew his nephew, knew that he knew what others had only suspected for as long as he could remember. And he knew Robin knew him, as well, if not better than he knew himself sometimes. Hell, even Nancy had suspected when he'd offered to be by Eddie's bedside whenever he was needed; she'd just looked at him the same way she looked at any puzzle and then had pencilled him into every gap without question and with an accepting smile. 

Hugging his knees to his chest, he focused on righting his breathing, taking slow purposeful breaths, wiping his face and focusing on the objects around him until he felt he could breathe again. He'd spent so long pretending, so long trying to be someone he wasn't, trying to be the perfect Harrington that dealing with feelings when they arose and the shame he felt in feeling them in front of others was hard but when his breathing settled, it was like he could breathe easier than he had in a long time, despite the chemical stench inside the cupboard. 

Climbing slowly to his feet he crept out of the small space and headed to the bathroom to wash his face, splashing cold water onto his cheeks felt nice, and somehow his reflection felt easier to deal with than it had this morning, sure he still had scars and dark circles, his hair was still horrendous, and his cheeks were puffy but for once looking at himself in the eye felt less like a lie.

Once he was calm and dry, Steve wanted to check in with Sam, the guy had been a group favourite since he'd come charging into the hospital demanding to see his daughter and he seemed to like all of them too, appreciated that his little girl hadn't been left alone for a single second. He'd been wary of Steve at first, he thought it was weird that an older male was hanging around a bunch of kids, sitting with his baby, but the other parents seemed to have got through to him in a way the kids hadn't been able to that Steve was their babysitter, that they trusted him with their kids lives. 

Hop and Joyce had been the ones to really affix in Sam's mind that Steve wasn't a threat, and the two of them advocating for him after all they'd been through over the years, felt amazing, he finally felt like one of the group once Joyce had wrapped her arms around him, thanking him for all he'd done; for keeping them safe, for walking into battle when he didn't have to. Hop had just put a hand on his shoulder and asked "Y'okay kiddo?" letting Steve fall into his chest with the relief that he wasn't dead, that finally the grown-ups were there, because as much as he had spent his youth wanting to be older, wanting to be away from his parents, so he could do whatever he wanted, it felt like a relief that a real adult would be in charge from now on.

He knocked and entered when Sam shouted for him to come in, smiling a small smile at Steve and carrying on with the book he was reading aloud as Steve sat on the plastic chair next to him. "How's she doing?" he asked when Sam finished the chapter and closed the book; Wendy always gave more info to the grown-ups than she ever did to the kids.

"The same," Sam sighed, stretching out the muscles in his back from being hunched over the book, "Happy Birthday," he added with a genuine smile, "Dustin wouldn't shut up about it. Lucas looked 'bout ready to kick his ass!" he told Steve with a laugh.

"Thanks," Steve murmured, he hadn't come in to talk about him, but maybe Sam just needed to think about anything else for five minutes. 

He told Sam about the gift Robin had given him, Sam smiled wistfully, "Susan used to make me things like that," he muttered fondly. 

For once, he didn't have it in him to correct Sam's assumption, just asked "Oh, yeah?" Let Sam tell him stories of his and Susan's courtship, of their happier years together, if nothing else Steve hoped Max could hear them, thought it might please her to know that her parents were happy once, that they had loved each other and her.

It was a while before Robin poked her head around the door with a "err, Steve?" her smile a little uncertain even as she waved at Sam, who jostled Steve playfully and waved them off with a small smile picking up his book and continuing to read to Max.

"What was that about?" Robin asked bemusedly.

"Eh, nothing. What's up?" Steve asked tiredly, it'd been a long day and as much as he hated to leave, he was about ready to curl up in bed.

"Nothing, Eds was just asking for you," she murmured, turning into Eddie's room, letting Steve follow lazily to find…

"SURPRISE!" everyone cheered, and by everyone Steve meant everyone, he was honestly surprised that they all fit into one room. Wendy was going to lose her shit.

"C'mon Dingus," Robin sighed, dragging him further into the room, "This is your party, no use standing in the doorway!" she chastised playfully leaving him at the foot of Eddie's bed where he was looking a hell of a lot more awake and had a sheet cake laid out across his shins because godforbid they used the table like normal people.

Dustin was finishing lighting the candles with Wayne's lighter, then made little conductor hands at the group, who all jumped into a chorus of 'Happy Birthday'.

Steve didn't know what to do with himself, he just stood there awkwardly, smiling gratefully at every person in the room. They were all there, the Wheelers and little Holly, the Sinclairs, Claudia, Hop and Joyce, Argyle and Jon and Nancy, the kids all smiling at him encouragingly, dare he say it lovingly.

He hadn't been sung to since he was a boy, he couldn't help feeling emotional, a tear escaping down the side of his face when Dustin and Erica wrapped an arm each around his middle, another tear splashing down into Dustin's curls as he looked down at them both wrapping his arms around their shoulders. The singing eventually stopped and Wayne muttered that maybe he should "blow out the candles, before there's more wax than frosting" making them all chuckle. 

He released the kids and bent over the foot of the bed to do as he was asked when Robin yelled, "Don't forget to make a wish!'

A wish?! Looking around the room, at friends and family gathered for his birthday, at the pile of presents sitting in the corner of the room, at Robin's gift and the tattered old book and Eddie's tired but smiling face. There was only one thing missing from this picture, something he could only wish would be different in the next year.

Some wishes in life you know will come true, like putting your hand in someone else's and them tightening their grip, like going to hug your best friend when you're snotty and disgusting and them hugging you back, like a kiss on the forehead or a hand on your shoulder, like Hop's was as Steve looked bewilderedly around the room, warm and protective.

Some wishes though you had to hope for with your whole chest, some wishes were just that, but as he looked at El and Lucas he knew he wasn't the only one wishing with his whole heart as he took a deep breath extinguishing all the tiny flames to a round of applause.

Nothing could make his birthday more perfect than having his little sister by his side again, but this right here, with sleepy eyes and sibling support and more loving parents than any kid could ever dream of, with his soulmate who he has no doubt orchestrated this whole event in a hospital room, this was as close as they could get to perfect for now.

[koishua]

koishua's miscellaneous wip list!

say boo and pressure me into finishing these numbers <3

listed: 24/80 proper wips. had to sift through 250 drafts and veto most of them bc honestly we all know they weren't going to see the light of day!! have a suzu icon representing me rn <3 gonna be giving the other wips to the mooties who sent in for the ask game i created ages ago

№1 ) love till the sun sets | heeseung est. 15k

№2 ) from under the magnolia tree | beomgyu est. 10k — on february fourteenth, exactly five years ago, he’d gifted you a small magnolia tree he’d named after you. he’d said that he would love you for as long as the sapling you’d planted together would live. he’d even said that he would watch as it grew bigger and older with both of you taking care of it. he'd said that it would be the most beautiful thing in town. you'd believed him.

№3 ) we were beautiful | sunghoon est. 5k — you were fifteen when you’d first fallen in love with your childhood friend, seventeen when you’d called him your boyfriend, and eighteen when you lost him to life. broken apart by circumstances and necessity, everything you’d built up with him had fallen apart overnight. by the time the dawn of your nineteenth birthday had arrived, you’d no longer have the name park sunghoon present in your everyday life, only contained dearly in your memories and a journal, his name scribbled mindlessly on each and every corner of the aged pages.

№4 ) dear cupid | jake est. 15k — desperate to have his feelings of two years reciprocated, he finds a leather-bound book falling by his feet in the old campus library containing a guide on how to summon the very real and very quirky god of love and desire, cupid. in his next life, jake would come to write a book on why you should read holy contracts thoroughly before signing your name off in blood.

№5 ) man up | heeseung short fic

№6 ) ikigai | niki est 10k — lonely and trying to cope with the deeply settled rage at the world, reader stumbles upon a peculiar boy in the middle of a bridge and falls into a conversation with him where she utters eight damning words. the world consequently stops spinning and the univers halts as it is. time comes to a stand still and the only two ppl able to move happen to be her and the boy beside her. cue the next seven days of adventures in the dark streets, lit only by the streetlamps in the outskirts of tokyo.

№7 ) pocket locket | m. jaehyun short fic

№8 ) foreign exchange student!beomgyu drabble

№9 ) death is for those who stay | heeseung short fic

№10 ) the world and all her pearls | ??

№11 ) do yourself a flavour | ?? — ice cream parlour, r2l

№12 ) i blinked and suddenly i had a valentine | ??

№13 ) enha dates gone awry (in the best ways!)

№14 ) take you out | sunghoon assassin au short fic

№15 ) a conversation between the lost and unloved | yeonjun est 3k

№16 ) mothers and fathers | yeonjun est 5k — a conversation about hungry mothers and forgetful fathers with yeonjun, an unlikely friend from a country you've never been to.

№17 ) signs that enha are dating

№18 ) "why did you give me wings and want me to fall?" | ?? — hunger games-esque!au

№19 ) notes unread | sunghoon — letters you'd written for each other, unsent and unread.

№20 ) enha and your cute little secrets

№21 ) everything sucks, just kidding! | yeonjun short fic

№22 ) do not touch | jay est 5k — bnha!au, living with a quirk damning you to eternal loneliness, not being able to touch or be touched in fear of the other's demise, jay loves you from afar. he loves you without a single touch.

№23 ) i could drown myself in someone like you | gaon short fic

№24 ) dude, go to therapy | beomgyu text fic — your number neighbor just so happens to be choi beomgyu, your old nemesis from high school. it's too late when you find out about it, though, because you'd already dumped all of your emotional baggage on him. worst of all, he seemed to be concerned and not at all like the beomgyu of the past.

[myriadof-fandoms]

harringrove week - day 2 - this boy's too young to be singing the blues

prompt: How Many Candles on the Birthday Cake: 18 years old

ao3

Billy Hargrove is 18 years old. 

He has been, for just about 24 hours now. No one’s mentioned it. 

He’s watching how the minutes go by, like he did last night too. Seven minutes to midnight, seven minutes until he’ll really be entirely forgotten.  

It’s quiet around him, in the middle of fucking nowhere. No one is out at this time since everyone in Hawkins is in bed by 10 and even if they aren’t they surely aren’t sitting at the fucking Quarry. 

Billy likes it only because of the water. And maybe a little bit because it reminds him that he could always just jump. 

He’s not actively suicidal, he knows he’s gonna go back home and climb into his room through the window and hope that his dad doesn’t hear. Billy’s gonna go to bed and sleep the same fitful sleep he always has. Everything is gonna stay exactly how it is.

But for a moment the possibility is comforting. 

The edge of the descent down to the water is an adrenaline high. The same high that he gets here only by pushing his car to the highest speed right before a curve. 

Billy misses the way his lungs used to feel like they were about to burst when he stayed underwater too long. That was the best of them all, better than any drug or danger, that moment when he pushed himself until everything in him was screaming to dive back up, to get some oxygen. 

Nothing in Hawkins compares to the ocean. At least the Quarry is a body of water too though.

His mom used to take him surfing for his birthday. She used to get him cake too. At first there were presents as well, he remembers a small party even. 

His dad always said birthdays aren’t important though. Certainly not important enough to remember at all. 

At least last year Billy got a black eye. Today Neil didn’t acknowledge him even once and somehow that’s worse.

He spent the day like any other, breakfast in tense silence only interrupted by Susan trying to lift the tension, driving to school and watching Max disappear to her weird little friends, one useless class that’s teaching shit he already had in San Diego after the other, ignoring whatever shit Tommy and the other assholes said during break, beating everyone at basketball, not looking at Harrington in the shower, picking up Max, going home, working out until his body aches and tense dinner. Absolutely nothing of consequence happened. 

Billy curses when he feels his eyes tear up at the thought. 

Distracted by his own failings and the sound of his voice he doesn’t hear the car at first. The headlights he notices first, cutting through the trees and illuminating the Camaro. 

With bated breath Billy waits until he can make out the car. Of course it’s the fucking BMW.

He turns back around and waits.

“What are you doing?” Harrington asks when he’s still walking up to Billy at the edge. He doesn’t come up next to him entirely, choosing to stay two steps away from the cliff.

“Celebrating.” Billy’s a fucking idiot. 

Harrington remains a mystery to him.

They’ve settled into no man’s land since Billy beat him up last fall. After Max had him fucking apologise to Harrington he became- almost friendly. 

Billy doesn’t do “friends”. Which is most likely why there’s no one to remember his fucking birthday. 

Harrington is nice to him is the thing. Occasionally they talk, like when they both drop off the brats at the Arcade or when Harrington finds him in the middle of the night at the Quarry. 

And then sometimes Harrington stares at Billy way too long in the locker room. 

“What are you celebrating at the edge of certain death?” 

There’s a little edge to his voice, and a part of Billy is entirely too pleased to know enough of Steve’s tells to realise it. 

“I’m sure I could survive this.” 

There’s a scoff he receives in response, “Yeah, sure you could, big guy, now get away from there, alright?”

Billy takes another look at the black water below and turns around to look at Harrington. 

His hair is messy, like he already went to bed and got up again when he couldn’t sleep. His attire supports that theory, sweats and a T-shirt that’s all rumpled. 

He wastes a thought to consider if Steve sleeps without a shirt and only grabbed this one on his way out. 

“My birthday.”

Harrington is too busy looking relieved that Billy’s next to him now and away from the edge to pay attention, “What?”

“I’m celebrating my birthday, Harrington.”

“You- today?”

Now Billy gets to scoff. Then he checks his watch, “For another minute, King Steve, yes.”

“Shit, man, happy birthday,” He looks like a kicked puppy. Harrington looks actually upset at not having known. Somehow he also looks a little calculating. 

“Did you get anything nice?”

It’s such a stupidly Harrington thing to ask. Billy doesn’t feel like lying and laughs a little, “No, not really.”

For a second Billy thinks he’s about to get beaten up when Harrington moves closer. But instead of a fist connecting with his cheek there are hands cradling his face. And another heartbeat later there are lips on his own.

Steve all but crashes into him, moving against Billy with vigor and like he’s starving for it. Billy responds without thinking - because maybe he did jump after all? Maybe he’s dead and the cosmos is playing a gigantic joke because this feels awfully close to heaven and there’s no way Billy’s ever going to get there.

As quickly as he’d been there Steve steps back, “Fuck, sorry, I-”

This time Billy is the one to hold Steve’s face. Not for long though, as soon as he’s got his mouth back on Steve’s his hands are moving to his hair. That fucking hair he’s had to hear so much about. 

It feels even better between his fingers than he thought it would.

Steve sighs against his lips and Billy is filthy and rotten and he’s waited to long for this, he’s overthought everytime he caught Steve looking at his lips too much, to not use the chance and lick into Steve’s mouth.

This time he moans. 

It must be true then, Billy’s dead and in heaven. 

When Steve starts pushing him backwards, towards the Camaro, and then against its hood, Billy doesn’t think a lot. There is the passing thought though that his birthday had turned out surprisingly well after all. 

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 16 - Let's Hear It for the Boy

IN THIS CHAPTER: Science fiction double feature, rotten eggs, and Eddie turns 20 [12.2k]

WARNINGS: bullying (mentions of racism and fatphobia), childhood trauma (hair trauma, child neglect, toxic masculinity), one use of a homophobic slur (f-word), mild spoilers for The Rocky Horror Picture Show and The Exorcist (specific mentions of the crucifix scene, if you've seen the movie, you know what this is about)

A/N: shout out to my one and only @gutterratt for helping me figure out my way through old horror movies! i'm a wuss so i relied heavily on her opinions to make this work (also read a few entire scripts and scared myself lmao). thank you for being the best teacher i could have asked for. 10 more days until i get to hug the shit out of you &lt;3

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We always have a real good time And maybe he sings off-key But that's all right by me, yeah

Thursday, May 15th - 1986

On Eddie’s 20th birthday it rained cats and dogs. There was a light shower during the early morning which stopped at around 10 only to come back with a vengeance after lunch, and by the time the school day had ended, the weather was warm and humid with a sky-obscuring fog that made it seem like it was much later than it actually was. Eddie, as he always did when it rained, offered to take Gareth home so he gave his friend his keys and asked him and Dottie to wait in the van while he finished up a private conversation with Mrs. Vaughn, his Drawing teacher. She was quite impressed with how his portfolio was shaping up, and wanted to know more about the subjects he’d chosen to portray in his art. Some talks were meant to be kept behind closed doors.

Gareth left Dottie at her locker where she was fighting to fit Eddie’s birthday present in her backpack without absolutely destroying the muffin she’d baked for him during Home Ec and headed towards the parking lot to wait for his friends in the safety of the van. Dottie had barely managed to zip up her backpack when a pair of pink sneakers came up to where she was kneeling.

“Do you need help?” a warm, melodic voice asked.

Dottie looked up to find Chrissy Cunningham, the current Queen of Hawkins High, smiling at her like they’d known each other for years. She wasn’t wearing her full cheerleading uniform that day; instead she had chosen cuffed jeans and a lovely cream blouse, her strawberry blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Wow, Dottie thought without an ounce of shame for ogling. She’s gorgeous. Realizing she had been staring up at the kind (almost) stranger, she quickly stood and threw her backpack over her shoulder.

“Oh, no, thank you! I’ve got it,” Dottie said, and Chrissy smiled even wider if it was even possible.

“You’re Dottie Burke, right? We’re in World History together, you sit with Jeff Patton two seats in front of me?”

“Yup, that’s me! And you’re Chrissy Cunningham, you sit with, um, Melissa?”

“Yes, Melissa Levine,” the blonde’s eyes brightened up, pleased that this conversation was going smoothly. “I know you’re best friends with Eddie so could you give this to him for me?”

Chrissy presented a shiny green gift bag to her. It was carefully sealed with a big transparent sticker from the store where it had been purchased from and a huge silvery bow was tied to the handles. Of all the things she had been expecting her to pull out behind her back, a birthday gift for Eddie hadn’t been in her Top 10 List at all.

“Are you sure? He’ll come back in a sec if you want to give it to him yourself, he’s just talking to a teacher.”

“Yeah, I think he already knows what it is,” Chrissy waved her hand like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’d wait for him but my boyfriend is in the car already so…”

“Oh, yeah, totally. I can give this to Ed for you, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, you’re so nice!” she said, beaming at her. “I’m sorry if I’m coming off too strong, Eddie said we’d get along so I thought “well, what am I waiting for”, right?”

“You’re fine, seriously,” Dottie laughed; Chrissy’s bubbly energy was contagious. “He told me we’d get along too. Something about you liking Queen and owning all the records?”

“Yes! Gosh, I love Queen! Do you? We should hang out sometime, we can listen to them together.”

“Absolutely, yes. I’d love that.”

“Okay, cool! I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah, sure! Have fun on your date!”

“How did you know I’m going on a date?” Chrissy said, mild intrigue on her face.

“You just look really pretty and you mentioned your boyfriend so I thought you might be going on a date with him,” Dottie explained like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I like your makeup.”

“Oh,” she said, stopping for a moment.

Chrissy wasn’t a stranger to people telling her she was pretty. She had grown up going to pageants and being paraded as a doll by her mother but the compliments were always the same and regarding things she didn’t care about, like how big her Mom had teased her hair, and how thin she looked like in that formal gown. No one had ever told her something she did for herself, like her daily makeup, was pretty. She gave Dottie a big toothy smile, genuine and warm.

“Thank you! I like your dress!”

“Thanks, it was my Mom’s. It has pockets!” the brunette said, shoving a hand inside the left pocket of her short black jumper dress to demonstrate.

“I love that! Not enough dresses have pockets, it’s a shame.”

They said their goodbyes again and Chrissy disappeared down the hallway, leaving Dottie to consider that maybe she really did need more girl friends. She loved her Hellfire boys, and of course Erica was great, but she had missed the kind of special warmth female friendships gave - the gentle toughness she’d always admired in her Aunts’ actions. Now that she knew what a real friend was supposed to look like thanks to the guys, she realized that whatever she had thought Jeannie was during her life in New York hadn’t exactly been a good example of true friendship. Dottie wondered if, given enough time, Chrissy could become a real friend. She was, after all, good friends with Eddie already and he seemed like a fine judge of character so far.

“You ready to bounce?” Eddie asked, hurrying down the hallway to where she was still standing.

“Yeah! This is for you, by the way,” Dottie said, giving him the gift bag. “It’s from Chrissy.”

“Chris- damnit, I told her not to do it,” he shook his head, a fond smile gracing his face. He accepted the bag and shoved it inside his backpack to protect it from the rain; he had a pretty good idea of what it was but he’d look at it once they were home. “Come on, let’s go.”

He guided Dottie towards the parking lot with a hand on the back of her bag, keeping her close as they ran out into the rain and towards the dry seats of his van. They were almost there when Eddie noticed someone curled into themselves near the furthest column that supported the overhang roof at the entrance, a figure huddled up on the floor wearing what looked like Gareth’s red plaid shirt. He looked at his van and saw instantly that his friend was not sitting inside waiting for them, and the vehicle wasn’t even on. What the fuck, he thought bitterly, taking note that the door on the driver’s side was covered in what looked like a runny viscous liquid. The rain was washing it away, but the white and light brown shells on the floor were enough to confirm his suspicions. Switching gears quickly, he pulled Dottie under his arm and guided her towards Gareth.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking up at him, arm up trying to keep the rain out of her face.

“Gareth!” he yelled for an answer, and the younger boy lifted his teary head up from his knees. “Jesus Christ.”

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” Dottie exclaimed, rushing to their friend.

“They were waiting for Eddie. Said it was a birthday present,” he sniffed, lifting his arm to wipe his face with his sleeve and putting it down instantly when he saw it was filthy. He smelled like rotten eggs.

“I’m so sorry, man,” Eddie said, crouching next to him.

“Not your fault,” Gareth shrugged. “You always cover for me so… guess it was time I covered you for once.”

“This has happened before?” Dottie asked, and both boys looked at her like it was common sense. “Who- who did this to you? How many times?”

“It isn’t always eggs,” Gareth sniffed again. “One time they threw mud at Donny, called him a pig. Gave Dustin a swirly a couple of times but they don’t touch Mike anymore since they found out Nancy Wheeler is his sister. Andy is the worst, he, um-” he interrupted himself and looked at Eddie.

“Andy Humphrey,” Eddie sighed. “He put a bunch of racist notes in Jeff’s locker for a couple of months last year. We saw him doing it but Higgins didn’t do shit about it. He’s on the basketball team, always wears that stupid hat.”

“Yeah, I know him,” Dottie said. “He’s in my AP Spanish class, he’s barely passing. He cheated on our last pop quiz, he knows I saw because he winked at me like he was trying to get me on his side.”

“Almost everyone on the basketball team sucks,” Gareth said. “I don’t know what Lucas is doing with them.”

“Lucas?”

“Lucas Sinclair. Erica’s brother?” Eddie explained. “He used to play with us before he decided being a freak wasn’t good enough for him.”

“I mean… I don’t blame him. I smell like a sewer,” Gareth grimaced.

“Okay, come on, let’s get you home,” Dottie said, patting his knee to get him to stand up.

“I’ll just walk, I’m gonna get the van dirty.”

“No way, man, not in this thunderstorm. Get in the back,” Eddie instructed.

The three of them headed back to the van, the rain not relenting for a single second. On the bright side, Eddie’s door wasn’t dirty anymore, clean from the constant water streaming upon the metal. On the other hand, Gareth was soaked and shivering by the time he sat himself on a plastic crate at the back of the van, keeping himself away from the blankets and pillows, windows cracked open to let cool air in and rotten egg smell out. They drove to Gareth’s house in silence, only the occasional sniffling coming from the dirty boy wallowing in his own misery could be heard under the vehicle’s rumbling.

When they arrived and pulled up to Gareth’s garage, Eddie wasn’t expecting Dottie to get out too, leaving behind her backpack tucked under the co-pilot seat. He followed the pair to the front door, heard the keys tinkling against each other as his friends walked inside and hurried up to get out of the rain. In the foyer, Dottie peeled off her cardigan and sneakers before directing Gareth to his bathroom.

“Eddie, can you get a chair from the kitchen?” she asked, already pushing Gareth down the hallway.

Eddie complied with her request, bringing one of the aluminum chairs with pleather seats into the Jack and Jill that connected Gareth’s bedroom with his sister’s. Gareth was peeling his dirty sleeveless shirt and sweatshirt off his body, Dottie kneeling near his feet helping him take his rain soaked shoes off.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling softly at Eddie before looking up at Gareth. “You sit.”

“Why can’t I just take a shower?” he complained, but still sat down on the chair.

“Because you’re not only covered in gunk, there’s eggshells in your hair. Let me get them out and we’ll leave you to shower in peace, okay?” she pulled back the bath curtain and got his shampoo and conditioner, coming to stand next to the sink.

The birthday boy watched her work, carefully picking all the shells out of Gareth’s hair and throwing them into the pink waste bin that was hidden next to the toilet. She got rid of the knots in his hair with a glittery blue plastic comb that clearly belonged to Gretchen, wetting it with warm water between each pass. Eddie could feel something bubbling up his chest, but it wasn’t anything like the usual jealousy he swore he had stopped feeling days ago. No, this was something different, much more deep seated, clawing up his throat and threatening to tear his insides apart leaving no prisoners behind. This was something he’d been ignoring for a very long time, from before he even knew a Gareth Coleman or a Dorothy Burke. This padlock had been sealed shut with rust ages ago, the key long forgotten somewhere no one, not even Eddie, would find it anymore.

Dottie poured water on Gareth’s scalp with her hands, making him shiver once and then giggle at himself for his reaction. She worked the shampoo into his curls, pulling his hair once to make him wince when he made a stupid comment that Eddie wasn’t listening. He watched the suds fall into the pure white porcelain of the sink bowl as she washed them away with the utmost patience and care.

“You should be a hairdresser,” Gareth said, eyes closed while he relaxed into her touch.

“I could never. You know that smell when you walk into a salon? I fucking hate it,” she said, snorting at the end.

When was the last time Eddie had gone to a salon for a haircut? Not since living with Wayne, that’s for sure. The last time he’d had a haircut he hadn’t given himself in his own bathroom was back in middle school, when a neighbor buzzed all his hair off during that horrible lice outbreak he’d told Dottie about. He remembered that before he turned 12, before she passed away calmly in her sleep, his Grandma kept his hair rather short, like it had been that summer he’d spent in her care when he was eight. And before that… Eddie didn’t like to remember before that.

Dottie shook the bottle of conditioner until a small blob hit her palm and began weaving her fingers into Gareth’s curls. They were still chatting quietly, their long haired friend hovering in the hallway near the door. Eight years. Eight years since anyone had touched Eddie’s hair, since anyone that wasn’t himself had run a brush through his curls and snapped the damaged ends off with a pair of sharp scissors. He hated getting haircuts from his Grandma - not because she was bad at doing them, but because she always pulled at the knots a little bit too harshly, muttering about how boys with longer hair were unkempt and unruly. And Eddie loved his Grandma so much, and she loved him so much in return, but in those moments there was no denying that she was his father’s mother, and getting haircuts from her only reminded him of Wyatt Munson calling him a faggot because his curls reached the collar of his school shirt before he dropped him off at a cheap salon and returned five hours later, smelling of booze and nicotine and regrets.

Eddie used to feel so guilty whenever he went to the salon. Wyatt would treat him like absolute shit, and then he’d sob quietly in the chair while a middle aged lady told him things like “boys don’t cry” and “it’s just hair, kid, don’t be a brat”, only for Wyatt to return and ask her if she’d turned his little girl into a proper boy. A while back, when Eddie first got his driver’s license, he drove past that salon on his way to Donny’s family restaurant and felt like he’d won the damn lottery when he saw it had been closed for several years. Fuck that place, he’d thought and promptly sped up.

“Hey,” a hand touched his arm, making him jump lightly. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry,” he said quickly, blinking a few times and focusing on Dottie’s worried face in front of him. “I think I fell asleep for a second.”

“We’re done so… we can go now,” she said, not pushing him for an answer.

She’d seen that face on him before, back when they were arguing about his moldy ceiling, and immediately decided they weren’t going to have this conversation in front of Gareth. The younger boy had a small towel on his head like a nun’s headdress to stop his curls from dripping all over the floor as he gathered his dirty clothes and walked past them towards the laundry room.

“Sorry about all this,” said Gareth, standing under his front door’s frame.

“Wasn’t your fault, man. Sorry you got caught in the crossfire,” Eddie reassured him, waiting for Dottie to finish putting on her sneakers.

“Better me than you.”

“Tell you what, why don’t you pick the movie tomorrow? Anything you want.”

“Anything?” he asked, mischief glinting in his eyes.

“Just… don’t pick anything stupid, okay? The Boogey Man sucked ass.”

“You have no fucking taste,” Gareth complained, rolling his eyes.

“Wait, hold on, are we gonna watch a horror film?” Dottie asked in the direction of the younger boy.

“It’s tradition, we always watch horror movies on our birthdays.”

“Can we not do that this time? You know I hate horror. We can do a thriller, that’s like… horror-adjacent, right?”

“Horror-adjac… Dude,” Gareth turned to Eddie, seeking an ally.

It’s not that Eddie was dying to watch a horror film, he really wasn’t. He was happy to watch whatever most of the time, like when Jeff had insisted on watching Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone for some weird reason and he’d gone along for the ride because, well, any movie was still a movie. Eddie loved stories, the more outlandish the better. He wasn’t about to complain about two hours of mindless entertainment, regardless of the subject of the VHS tape in the player. Caught between his two friends, one who looked at him with exasperation at even suggesting a change of plans and the other one with the cutest goddamned pout and rounded eyes he had ever seen, well, he was only human. If Jesus had stumbled, why wouldn’t he do it too?

“Maybe we can skip the horror this time,” he said.

“Come on, man, don’t let her peer-pressure you!”

“Peer-pressure? God, you’re such a little-”

“Okay, okay, calm down, Jesus,” Eddie lifted his hands, getting between them. “How about this? We do a double feature. You each pick one movie and you can’t complain about what the other one chooses, alright? It’s my birthday, don’t make me uninvite you.”

“But-”

“Take it or leave it, Gareth, it’s my final offer.”

“Fine,” Gareth grumbled.

“Thank you,” Dottie said, still looking apprehensive but not wanting to push the argument further.

This was a tradition she hadn’t been a part of since its inception and she wasn’t going to fight her way in when they were so graciously holding the door open for her. Friends do stuff they don’t enjoy to make other friends happy sometimes, it’s okay. They’d do it for me. I’ll just… suck it up and watch the floor for two hours, she thought as they said their goodbyes and ran under the rain to get to Eddie’s van. He was excitedly going on about the cake Wayne had gotten for him on the way to the trailer, and Dottie couldn’t find it in herself to care about what horrifying movie Gareth was gonna subject her too when Eddie looked so happy to spend his special day with his Uncle and her.

“Wayne, we’re home!” Eddie yelled, trying to put his key in to open his front door.

Dottie was standing very still in front of Eddie, his chest to her back and arms on either side of her while he wrestled with his keys, shielding her from the storm with his body. The copious raindrops falling on them pinged off the leather jacket that was keeping him cozy and dry, soaking his hair that curtained Dottie’s head from above. She was holding both their backpacks against her chest, trying to protect them and their contents from the rain.

“Wayne!” he yelled again, hitting the door twice with his fist.

“Hold on, I’m coming,” the older man replied from the inside, hurrying up to let them in. "Where were you?"

"Got held up at school," said Eddie, guiding Dot in and closing the door quickly behind his back before shedding his wet jacket. "Talked to that teacher I told you about last night. She said I have talent."

"Coulda told you that myself," Wayne smiled at him, pulling his big boy into a hug and patting his back. "Happy birthday, Ed."

"Thanks, Wayne," Eddie melted into his Uncle. They didn't hug often, less so now that he wasn't a little kid anymore, but if you asked him, his Uncle Wayne gave the best hugs in the entire world because whenever he gave you one, he definitely meant it. "Can we have cake now?"

"Get the candles," Wayne jerked his head towards the kitchen where a set of barely used birthday candles were waiting in the bottom drawer ready to grant a new wish.

While Eddie busied himself putting the candles on a small chocolate cake, Dottie cleared the coffee table, setting his gifts on the floor. There were three presents: Chrissy's shiny green bag that had gotten a bit smushed in Eddie's backpack, a thin rectangle in bright blue paper, and a little package smaller than a hand. Wayne added two to the pile wrapped in the same red paper; one looked soft, the other one was a square box. Dottie's funfetti muffin ended up with its own candle next to the cake.

"Light me up, princess," Eddie said, pointing to a BIC lighter that had been abandoned in the coffee table bowl at some point.

"I can't," Dottie admitted, looking embarrassed. "I don't know how to use that kind of lighter, the flick thing scares me."

"The flick thing?"

"You know, the thingy you have to roll with your thumb? That scrapes something inside and sparks up?"

"The sparkwheel?"

"I don't know what it's called!" Eddie held back a grin. "Don't laugh at me, I don't like how close the spark is to the finger. It's a perfectly reasonable fear, I don't want to burn myself!"

"No, yeah, absolutely. You're totally right" he said, fighting a chuckle. God, she's so fucking cute. He reached into a kitchen drawer and retrieved a small matchbox. “Here, use these.”

“The Hideout,” she read aloud on the front of the box. “That’s where you guys play on Tuesdays, right?”

“Yeah, they have a big bowl of these on the bar. I grab a couple every few weeks, haven’t bought real matches in years.”

“Very smart,” she said, lighting the two candles at the same time Wayne found his old camera tucked away in their storage closet.

Eddie knelt in front of the coffee table, closing his eyes with only one wish in mind. Dottie and Wayne sang to him and he smiled, the sudden flash of the camera in his Uncle’s hands painting his eyelids pink for a brief second. His 19th birthday had been tainted with the knowledge that he was going to be held back for the second time in a row. Wayne had taken him to a diner that night; they’d gotten pancakes for dinner and Eddie had cried and apologized for being such a goddamn failure. The eldest Munson had simply let his tears dry before he’d said, very matter-of-factly: I didn’t finish high school, do you think I’m a failure? What’s important is that you keep tryin’ and see things through even if they get hard. Are you a quitter, Ed?

Please, let ‘86 be my year, Eddie thought as hard as he could, sending his prayer to the universe before he opened his eyes and blew both candles out with one single breath. Dottie clapped and hollered, making them laugh. Wayne nudged her side with his elbow, nodding once in his nephew’s direction.

“Come on, you two. Gimme a nice smile,” he lifted the camera again.

Dottie hurried to sit next to Eddie and he didn’t waste a second pulling her to him, cheeks pressed against each other’s. She smiled brightly, the muffin she’d made for him in her hands like a delicate flower, and his arms around her waist, tongue out in a funny face. Wayne committed the memory to film before Dottie lifted herself up onto her knees, making grabby hands at him, Eddie still holding onto her.

“I’ll take one of you two, Mr. Wayne!” she offered.

“How about we take a group picture?” he said, sitting on the couch behind them and turning the camera around.

The two teens huddled up at his feet, his nephew giving him instructions to frame everyone better (“You gotta go higher, Wayne, half your head will be out of the picture!”). After the flash went off, Dottie went to find a knife to cut the cake while Eddie tore into his gifts, starting with Wayne’s packages. He seemed to already know what the soft looking one was, but still ripped the paper with gusto, a childlike glint in his eyes.

Wayne’s gifts had clearly been picked from a thrift shop, but that didn’t damp Eddie’s excitement in the slightest. He thanked his Uncle profusely for his two new shirts and boxy jean shorts for the summer before moving onto the mystery box which turned out to be a thermos flask with a slightly faded Snoopy print.

“No way!” he said, gleefully. “I’ve been trying to get one of these for ages!”

“I know,” Wayne said, proudly. “Heard you yappin’ about it so I asked Loretta to hold one for me if she ever saw them. Said they got a few of them a couple of months ago so I went and snatched one for you.”

“A couple of months ago? Where did you hide it all this time?”

“Under the seat in my truck,” he laughed, and Dottie was reminded once again of how similar the Munson men truly were.

“Gonna start checking down there around Christmas,” Eddie said, narrowing his eyes. He passed the flask to Dottie to examine who traded it for a plate of cake.

“This is really cute, Mr. Wayne. Wish mine was pretty like this one.”

“You got one of these?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, my Grandpa gave me his old one a few years ago. It looks so ugly, it’s like… plaid? But it keeps water cool in the summer so I can’t really complain. He got it for his fishing trips but he never used it so I got it instead. The perks of being his only grandchild,” she waved her fingers.

“You don’t have cousins?” Wayne asked, digging into his own piece of cake while Eddie picked a new present to open.

“No, both my parents are only children. All my Aunts and Uncles are their friends. I’ve got a big family, but I’m not blood related to any of them.”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie muttered, his attention on the long thin box in his hands.

Chrissy’s gift had turned out to be a red tie. The fabric was soft and silky, slightly shiny, and the tie itself was on the thinner side. There was a simple white card in the bag, it only said “For: Eddie, From: Chrissy” but she’d dotted the I’s with tiny hearts. He caressed the side of the box lightly, staring at it in wonder. He’d never owned a tie, much less one that looked as expensive as this one. When he’d asked Chrissy for advice on what to wear for prom, he’d never imagined she’d take it upon herself to make sure he was presentable. He’d have to figure out a way to make it up to her for her birthday, maybe Dottie would know how to help.

“That’s nice,” Wayne said, craning his neck to see into the box. “That one yours, Dot?”

“No, this one’s Chrissy’s,” she replied.

“Who’s Chrissy?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” Eddie said, realizing he’d never talked to his Uncle about his most unlikely friend. “We’re in Sociology together.”

Dottie knew he was lying; Eddie only shared Sociology with Jeff but it wasn’t like he could tell Wayne he’d become friends with a cheerleader by selling her weed, could he? She noticed how suspicious his Uncle was by his statement and decided to help him out.

“I’m in World History with her, she’s really kind,” Dottie said, making Eddie look up at her too. “We were talking about Queen when you were with Mrs. Vaughn today, she said she liked my dress.”

“She did?”

“Yeah! She liked the pockets,” she smiled at him. “You gonna wear this for prom?”

“I think that’s why she got it for me,” Eddie chuckled. “I told her we’re all wearing Hellfire colors. Gareth got a red bowtie the other day.”

“I still haven’t found a dress I like or that fits right,” she huffed. “Dad said we’re gonna have to go to Indianapolis, we’ve been to every shop in Hawkins already.”

“A lot of shops closed last year ‘cause of the mall,” Wayne said, clearing up the cake plates. “Never reopened after the fire. Damn shame.”

“Can I open these ones?” Eddie interrupted, excited about the two other presents he had left on the pile.

“Sure!”

“Any special order?”

“No, they’re separate from each other.”

He decided to open the bigger one first, fairly confident about it being a book. He tore the paper to find a hardcover notebook, black with an elastic to keep it closed. It looked fancy, but not particularly special, at least not until he opened it. It was sheet music, 14 five-line staffs on every off-white page, binded and with a pocket on the back. He turned to the first sheet, blank, no lines but with a note written in familiar black ink. For my favorite rockstar, from your darling Dottie. With a little daisy at the end. He stared at it for a minute that never seemed to end and looked up at her, big rounded eyes pushing his eyebrows under his fringe.

“You were talking about wanting to write more songs for Corroded Coffin last week at practice, so I thought you might need a place to keep everything organized,” she explained, voice shy and a little soft.

“Dot, I-”

“Open the other one.”

Wordlessly, he grabbed the small box, instantly recognizing it as a cassette case. He removed the paper, aware that Wayne was watching them from behind the kitchen bar while he brewed some coffee, and turned the transparent case in his hand. 1986 - E&D was written on the front, colorful stickers decorating the plastic. The song list inside only had one entry: Hot Patootie - Meatloaf (RHPS).

“Just one song?” he asked, confused.

“I thought we could fill it up together. See, I wrote 1986 on this one, but we can make a new one for every year we’re friends so when we get old, we can remember what we were doing that year by the songs we chose. Like a musical scrapbook.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Eddie said, launching himself from the floor and tackling her to the carpet, dissolving into giggles as she fought to sit back down.

“Stop- Jesus, Ed- I don’t like tickles, stop!” she pleaded, writhing on the floor like a worm, thankful that she was wearing colorful leggings under her skirt.

“Who doesn’t like tickles?” he lifted himself up onto hands and knees above her, ceasing the attack but still caging her under his body.

“I get nervous if I can’t breathe right,” she explained, hair fanning out like a halo around her head. Eddie felt his knees go weak. “Also, it makes me feel like I’m gonna pee myself and that’s so embarrassing.”

“Okay, gotcha. No tickling,” he pulled them both into a sitting position and smiled, wrapping one arm around her. “Thank you, I love my gifts. And I already know what song I wanna add next to the mixtape.”

“Do tell.”

“Nope,” he shook his head dramatically. “You’ll find out when it’s done.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes, turning to where Wayne was watching them, hiding a smile behind his mug.

“Happy birthday, son,” he said, raising his coffee to his mouth, and Eddie thought it might have been the happiest of them all.

After dishes had been washed and the rest of the cake had been put away until a certain birthday boy got the munchies at midnight, Eddie and Dottie decided to sit on the porch just outside his bedroom and leave Wayne to his devices. They lounged side by side on the old ratty couch, him working on his portfolio and her reading Pride and Prejudice out loud in an attempt to get him to finish the last book left in their compulsory reading list before finals week was upon them.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounded families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?”

The heavy rain hitting the tin roof provided the perfect ambiance for Eddie’s limbs to start feeling heavy and his hand to begin missing the lines he was trying to stay between while he shaded his latest piece. He closed his sketchbook and slid it through his open window to keep it dry in the safety of his bedroom, quickly returning to the couch to continue hearing the tales of the Bennet sisters. He laid down on the cushions, legs hanging off the armrest and head comfortably pillowed by Dottie's lap.

“Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”

“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is no another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Bingley, “for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them, you see, uncommonly pretty.”

“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

What a lovely voice, Eddie thought about Dottie, closing his eyes and letting his impressive imagination create Austen's lavish world behind his eyelids. It wasn't too high-pitched, nor too low, with the cadence of someone who already knows the story they are reading and is aware of where to pause for dramatic effect. This Bingham fellow seems nice. Is this a love triangle-angle?, he wondered. Dottie's voice turned sweet when reading Jane, demure when reading Charlotte, and bratty when reading Lydia. She would be kind when she read Bingham, disdainful when Caroline and solemn when Darcy. But Eddie's favorite so far was her Lizzie voice, which turned sensible and self-assured, yet playful and naïve. He supposed it was because she used her own voice for her most preferred Bennet sister.

“Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed, that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves; vanity to what we would have others think of us.”

“If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,” cried a young Lucas, who came with his sisters, “I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day.”

A page was turned, and Dottie’s hand that had been propped up on her armrest fell onto her lap, where it began playing with Eddie's hair. She had touched it before, albeit briefly, but never had she had the opportunity to absent-mindedly run her fingers through his curls like this. They were so much softer than she had expected. She continued this soothing motion, and Eddie kept his eyes closed, leaving her to wonder if his unusual stillness was due to him falling asleep under her touch. She stopped, not wanting to disturb him when his arm shot up and his hand curled around her wrist.

"Please," he muttered in a broken voice. "Keep going."

Eddie couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a haircut at a salon, but he also couldn't remember the last time anyone had brushed their fingers through the strands that had grown exponentially since middle school. He couldn't recall anyone helping him wash it, blow drying it for him, pushing it out of his face. And now Dottie was showing him the type of affection and care he'd craved for since before he learned how to tie his own shoes, and the rusty padlock with the missing key was beginning to break with the slightest amount of brute force applied to it.

"Please," Eddie pleaded, and Dottie closed the book, pulling her wrist out of his hand.

"Wait here," she said, moving her thighs so he'd let her get up and promptly disappeared into the trailer.

I've finally done it, he berated himself. I finally scared her off. But she reappeared quickly carrying a cushion and a rounded brush, sitting once again on the ratty couch. She opened her legs and put the cushion on the floor between them, motioning for him to sit down. Eddie complied without questioning it, his shoulders grazing against the colorful nylon leggings that covered her inner thighs while he faced the trailer park currently plunged into darkness by the storm. The first gentle but firm pull of the plastic bristles on his scalp made him shiver. The second one broke the dam.

Dottie brushed his hair in silence, being extra careful when she encountered a knot, undoing it slowly and patiently. Eddie sobbed without fear of judgment, because even though they weren't talking about it, he knew that she understood. How could she not, growing up with a single father who had never once in his life styled long hair before hers began to grow past her shoulders? So she brushed, and he cried, and they let go of yet another invisible weight together. When she put the brush down on the cushions, Eddie expected her to say something to ask him about what was happening. Instead, he felt her fingers running once, twice through the entire length of his hair, parting a small section near the top to his left on the third time. Dottie began braiding the strands into a thin plait, securing it with a small colorful plastic hair tie, the kind Eddie knew she always carried in her bag and had used a couple of times to pull her short curls into low pigtails.

She finished the braid, and moved onto the next one, right below the first one. Dottie wove strand with strand until she had three braids on either side of his head, all thinner than her own pinky. She pulled them back into a ponytail with the rest of his hair and brushed the ends for good measure one more time before dropping her weight on the floor between Eddie and the couch. Her arms curled around his waist, his chest to his back, her hands finding his curled into tight fists on his lap.

“You look like a viking now,” she said, softly.

“Thank you,” he replied, voice frail and small but full of meaning. She leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the base of his neck, just above his shirt, and he bit back another sob.

“Happy birthday, Ed,” she muttered, lips still pressed to his skin like she wanted to get the words permanently etched into it.

Dottie did not go back to reading out loud and Eddie didn’t fish his sketchbook from his room for the remainder of the evening. They simply sat together on the porch, tangled with one another as usual, and watched the rain fall and heard the thunder rumble until it was time for her to go home. They didn’t say anything about what had happened, but there was no need. Another padlock laid at their feet, and they weren’t afraid of busting them open anymore.

Friday, May 16th - 1986

“Fred? Fred!” Dottie called, pushing the doors to the Hawkins High newspaper room in a hurry. “Fred, are you here?”

“N-no, he’s- he went to see the nurse!” a familiar voice came from under the stairs.

Sitting on the floor and hiding between a few boxes that contained blank bundles of paper, was Nancy Wheeler. Her pretty calf-length pastel rainbow skirt covered her bent legs, concealing her feet from anyone who walked by. She had been crying, brown mascara staining the skin under her eyes but she clearly wasn’t anymore, face dry and eyes only slightly swollen. When she noticed Dottie coming to kneel next to her, she quickly hid the paper she was holding in her cardigan pocket. They didn’t know each other very well yet, were friendly at best, but Dottie knew that Nancy didn’t have many friends in school. She was highly regarded as a good student, on track to being the valedictorian with a bright future ahead but she could be a bit of a loner when she wasn’t being followed around by Fred Benson or another newspaper club member.

Nancy often chose to spend most of her time in the library studying or working on something for The Weekly Streak, building her journalism portfolio to parade around in search of internships when she left Hawkins for college in Boston. Dottie wasn’t one to gossip with anyone that wasn’t named Gareth Coleman, but Fred liked to talk. On one occasion when the junior was assisting Dottie with an urgent task, he’d babbled on and on about Nancy, her late friend Barb, the fact that she’d been considered Hawkins royalty for a period of time while she dated some popular guy who was captain of the swimming team, and how she’d dumped him rather publicly at a Halloween party and gotten together with known weirdo Jonathan Byers. She tried to steer Fred away from the topic at the time, but he was undeterred: it was clear the boy held some sort of candle for the pretty senior, and who was Dottie to tell him to snuff it out? She’d only known them for less than a month. Still, with the knowledge that Nancy was a bit of an outcast after the tragic death of her best friend, and coupled with the fact that she was Mike’s sister, Dottie couldn’t pretend like she hadn’t seen her distress.

“You okay?” she asked, giving her editor-in-chief enough room to answer however she wanted.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s nothing,” Nancy rolled her shiny blue eyes, waving a hand around. “Everything’s fine.”

“I was dropping by to leave these for Fred,” Dottie explained, showing her the stack of papers she was holding. “Is he okay?”

“Yes, he was just complaining about a headache. Nothing serious.”

“Good, okay. I’ll leave this on his station and we can go get a soda. Would that be alright?”

“You want to get a soda with me?” Nancy said, a soft smile gracing her lips.

“Of course! We can share M&Ms if you want too. I’ve known you for a month and all I know about you is that you’re going to Emerson and that Dustin thinks you’re a badass.”

“He called me badass?” she laughed, getting to her feet and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“God, the kid loves you. Mike says he had a crush on you when they were younger.”

“Ugh, he did,” Nancy said, remembering the moment fondly. “Dustin is probably my favorite out of all my brother’s friends.”

“He’s so nice. His Mom did a great job with him.”

“Have you met Claudia? She’s quite the character,” she confided as the two girls climbed up the stairs and headed into the empty hallways side by side.

Nancy was funny. That was something Dottie hadn’t been expecting. She was polite and reserved, yes, but funny in the way people who notice things others don’t are. She carried their conversation well, asked Dottie questions to get to know her better while she answered the ones directed at her with ease. Her favorite color was pink, she liked all her classes except Math, was really excited about the release of Top Gun and was going to go see it with her Mom, Karen. She preferred Sprite to Coca-Cola, and in her opinion, the best M&Ms were the red ones, even though they all tasted the same. They sat on a bench just outside the cafeteria and talked about trivial things until they ran out of topics to explore.

“I wish we would have done this earlier,” Dottie said, popping a green candy into her mouth. “You’re really cool, Nance.”

“Thanks,” she said, chuckling shyly. “I think you might be collecting Wheeler siblings at this point. Should I let my Mom know you’re available to babysit Holly?”

“I actually have a lot of experience with babysitting. Give me until finals are done and if you need me, I’m there.”

“Speaking of babysitting, Mike mentioned you’re tutoring Eddie Munson.”

“I’m not really tutoring him, just… helping him keep his focus. We’re good friends.”

“I know. Mike,” Nancy said, like that explained everything and it actually did. “Actually, he… he mentioned you gave him advice a few times. About his girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I remember. Why are teenage boys so scared of their own feelings?”

“Tell me about it,” she scoffed, but immediately turned shy and rigid. “Could you… would it be okay if I asked you for advice too? It’s just- you are impartial in this situation and I think that’s what I need right now.”

“Sure, how can I help?” Dottie turned to her.

Nancy explained that she’d gotten a letter from her boyfriend, Jonathan. Ex-boyfriend, actually, but neither of them were good at the ex part. They had had a big argument over the phone after Spring break when post California-visit, Mike had accidentally let it slip that Jonathan didn’t want to go to Emerson with Nancy and had chosen community school instead. She hadn’t been upset about him changing his plans, but it definitely had hurt to know he’d been lying to her all this time, telling her he’d applied when he hadn’t, stringing her along for months on end. Dottie listened to Nancy retelling how she’d broken up with him, worried about if there were maybe other things he’d been hiding from her, and how Jonathan hadn’t tried to argue back once. He’d called two weeks later from a payphone outside the pizza parlor his new best friend worked at, high off his mind, crying and begging for her to take him back. Nancy had firmly said no, but that she was willing to talk more when he wasn’t on drugs.

This had happened mid-April, and Jonathan hadn’t called since. Instead, a letter addressed to Nancy had arrived that same Friday - four full pages of him not exactly asking for forgiveness, but explaining his reasoning in regards to his lies. Nancy didn’t share all the details, but the essential part was that as the eldest son of a single parent, he felt a sense of duty towards his siblings and didn’t want to move away so soon after they started high school in a new town where they had virtually to no friends and were getting bullied just for daring to exist. She did mention that his new sister Jane, Mike’s girlfriend, was still dealing with the loss of her adoptive father, so that situation on top of the move wasn’t helping in the slightest.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Nancy said, at the end of her long monologue. “If he’d told me all of this before, I would have understood him. He’s right, they are all having a hard time but did he have to lie about it for an entire year?”

“I think both sides are valid,” Dottie said, offering her the last candy in the package. “He’s not wrong for wanting to help his Mom and his siblings out, but he went about it in a really shitty way and you’re allowed to feel betrayed by it.”

“Am I?”

“Yes! Nancy, he lied to you! It was with the best of intentions, but he still lied. If you feel like that’s a hard limit in your relationship, you should tell him that, and he should respect it. And you. He should always respect you.”

“He does, he’s… I love him.”

“You can love someone and be upset with them at the same time. Just tell him how you feel instead of avoiding each other because you don’t want to get into a fight. Trust your instincts on this one.”

“You’re right. I’m gonna call him this weekend, and if we’re done, we’re done, but at least we handled it like adults.”

“That’s the spirit!” Dottie cheered her on. “Everything will turn out okay, I have faith in you both.”

“Thank you,” Nancy said, smiling. “I really needed the pep talk.”

“Anytime. I gotta run now, but I liked hanging out with you.”

“Me too. It’s been a while since I’ve done the whole… girl talk thing.”

“Can’t imagine Mike being into that, no,” Dottie said, and Nancy laughed. “See you on Monday?”

“Yes. Monday. Good luck with Hellfire!”

“Good luck with Jonathan. Fight for your love, girl!” she declared dramatically while she sped away.

Nancy watched her go with a curious smile on her face. She’d have to keep an eye on Dorothy Burke from now on, but that could wait. It was Friday, Fred might be down for the count, and she had a newspaper edition to perfect before Monday morning.

Dottie had been to Family Video only twice since moving to Hawkins, once with her Dad and once with the boys, both times during a weekend. When Donny pulled into the parking lot that Friday night after Hellfire, she was fully expecting to see the same greasy dude that smelled like Cheetos she’d seen the last two times but saw instead a pretty tall girl that had her eyes glued to a black and white movie playing on the overhead TV. Gareth immediately ran to the horror section in search for the first part of their double feature, and Dottie approached the girl timidly while Donny smoked outside, waiting for Eddie and Jeff to arrive with warm pizza and fresh ice cream.

“Hi, welcome to Family Video, how can I help you?” the taller girl smiled with tired eyes, the kind you only got if you worked retail.

“Hi! I wanted to rent The Rocky Horror Picture Show if you have it?”

“Yeah, of course, follow me,” she said, lifting the counter and guiding her towards the Musicals section. Another boy was restocking shelves labeled as Comedy next to them.

“Hi there,” he said, waving a VHS case in the air.

“Hi,” Dottie said and turned to where the girl was moving movies around, a frown on her face. “Did someone else beat me to it?”

“No, no, I know it’s here… Just can’t figure out where I put it.”

“What are you looking for?” the boy said, coming to stand above the girl, craning his neck to see the stands.

“The Rocky Horror Picture Show. The cover’s a mouth with red lips.”

“Oh, yeah, I moved it to the Horror section,” he said, brows bunching in the middle.

“Why did you move it? It’s a musical, dingus.”

“How would I know? It says horror in the title!”

“God, you’re hopeless,” the girl shook her head, and Dottie snorted at their antics.

They bickered all the way to the Horror section, Gareth looking up with a confused expression at the scene in front of him. The tall girl moved around him with ease, finding instantly what she was looking for.

“Here you go, sorry about that,” she said, giving the VHS to Dottie.

“You picked a horror movie?” Gareth asked.

“No, it’s a musical.”

“We’re not watching a musical.”

“Why not? It’s really fun, it’s about-”

“Dot, we’re not watching lovey-dovey bullshit on movie night. Come on, pick something else.”

“No!” Dottie put her foot down. “Eddie said we both got one pick and we couldn’t complain about what the other person chose. Jeff hasn’t seen Rocky Horror and I want him to know where Hot Patootie comes from if he’s gonna be singing it for me every week!”

“It’s from a musical? Eddie said it was a Meatloaf song!”

“It is!” the tall girl interrupted with a bright smile. “Meatloaf plays Eddie in it, it’s his only song in the whole movie but it’s a classic.”

“You’ve seen it?” Dottie asked, eyes lighting up at the discovery of a kindred spirit.

“Y-yeah, it’s really good. I love how it constantly breaks the fourth wall, I mean, talking to the audience through a narrator must be one of the most well known resources in theater but it must be so fun to experience in the stage show-”

“Oh my god, yes!” Dottie interrupted her, turning her entire body to face her newest friend. “The stage show is so cool, I saw it twice at, like, the shittiest community theater ever but they killed it every single time. The material is just so good!”

“You saw it live? Where?”

“New York, I used to live there.”

“That’s so cool,” the girl said, her eyes wide.

“Okay, so maybe you two can have your own movie night and watch your girly musical together,” Gareth said, getting back to the topic. “-but we’re not gonna watch that tonight. Birthdays are for horror movies.”

“It says horror in the title, dude,” the other boy said, making Dottie chuckle. Gareth looked at her like she was betraying him.

“Come on, it’s really not bad. You’re gonna like it, I promise. There’s… there’s sex and boobies in it!”

A tense silence spread through Family Video, Dottie painfully aware that she had said something extremely weird in front of people she didn’t know. It was okay that she was using the tantalizing idea of breasts to lure Gareth into saying yes to her movie choice, but she didn’t need to make it so damn obvious she was excited about the prospect of seeing them too. The taller girl was staring at her with a wild blush spreading from her chest up to her ears, but perhaps the other boy’s reactions were much more disconcerting. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise, stared at the back of his friend’s head, and then turned to Dottie with a huge grin on his face.

“If you don’t rent this movie, I will. We’re definitely watching it tonight, right, Rob?” he said, and the girl began giggling, her face in her hands.

“You’re such an idiot, Steve,” she gritted out through her laughter.

“Really, man, you’re a dumbass if you miss some boobs because you don’t wanna watch a musical with friends.”

“You’re gonna like it, G, I swear. It was made for the freaks,” Dottie insisted, sharing a grateful smile with the boy who was now known as Steve.

“Ugh, okay, fine! But if you’re picking a dumb musical, I can pick whatever I want and you can’t say no because you’re scared.”

“Those were the rules, we don’t complain about each other’s picks.”

“Not even if I pick The Exorcist?”

“Well… No, it’s- it’s okay. You can pick whatever you want,” she said, but looked very daunted by the idea.

“You sure?”

“She said yes, man,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips like a suburban dad. “Are you gonna rent these two or do you want one more? You can rent up to three every time.”

“Two’s okay, thank you, Steve,” Dottie said, grabbing The Exorcist off the shelf and taking both VHS cases to the counter.

The four of them moved to the main area and Steve busied himself checking them out, asking Gareth for his information to enter into the computer. Dottie was distracted while she looked at the small selection of candy they offered, the tall girl following her movement with her eyes. She knew she’d seen her before, probably at school but who was she? She mentioned she lived in New York…

“You’re Dorothy, right?” she said suddenly.

“How did you know?”

“People used to talk about you a lot back in January. Then you kinda dropped off everyone’s radar.”

“Yeah,” she grimaced. “Kinda joined the outcasts so…”

“I’m in band, I get it.”

“What do you play?”

“Trumpet. Been playing for twelve years.”

“Wow, that’s impressive,” Dottie said, thinking that she hadn’t done anything in her life with that kind of consistency. “It’s really nice to meet you, Robin.”

“Wha- oh. Oh! My tag!” Robin laughed at herself, looking down at the pins on her vest. “You know, I heard there’s a place in Indy where they do Rocky Horror showings once a month if you ever want to go. I don’t drive b-but I bet Steve can take us.”

“That sounds great, yeah! Is he cool with, y’know, nudity and stuff?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely! He doesn’t mind. He’s cool. Yeah, Steve’s… really cool.”

“Aw, you actually love me,” Steve said, giving away the fact that he’d been eavesdropping, and Robin hit him with a magazine.

“You two are really cute,” Dottie said, smiling at them. “How long have you been together?”

“We’re not-”

“Ew, that’s not-”

“We’re friends,” said Steve.

“Best friends,” added Robin.

“Strictly platonic.”

“With a capital P.”

“Oh. Well, I guess retail bonds you forever,” Dottie laughed, and Steve chuckled.

“You have no idea,” he said, looking over at Robin with a knowing expression.

“Okay, can you stop flirting with King Steve now? You’re grossing me out,” Gareth deadpanned, making Dottie frown.

“I’m not- I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

“It’s cool. We’re all friends here,” Steve said. “Enjoy your movie night!”

“Thank you, bye! Bye, Robin,” she waved at the girl, who waved back before Dottie grabbed Gareth’s arm and pulled him towards the door. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Ow, you’re hurting me,” Gareth said, when she shoved him outside, Donny holding the door open for them.

“Don’t know what you did, but you probably deserved it,” he said, letting the door close behind them, muffling their voices from inside the store.

Steve and Robin watched them get into Donny’s car and pull out behind a beat up brown Chevy van, both vehicles disappearing down the road together. When the tail lights were no longer able to be seen, they turned to each other with curious expressions.

“Was she-” Robin asked.

“I think she was, yeah.”

“Huh.”

“What did I tell you?” Steve said, going back to where he had been restocking before all the commotion. “Boobies.”

“Stop saying boobies!”

When Dottie asked to sit next to him to watch The Exorcist, Eddie imagined a scenario where she’d be a little bit scared and seek him out for comfort. After all, cuddling on a couch wasn’t something they’d never done before, blurring the line between friendly touches and something more every day that went by. She suggested eating first, putting the movie in later, and no one complained about the request, eager to stuff their faces after a long day of school and extracurriculars on top. Jeff’s basement was a cozy hangout spot with a door that led to a side entrance, perfect for sneaking out for a smoke between his mother’s carefully manicured rose bushes. The tan carpet and wooden walls were welcoming, if not slightly tacky, and the space had been filled in with a big couch and two armchairs, a huge TV where Jeff’s dad liked to watch football, and a great sound system that had probably been top-of-the-line ten years prior. They gotten their fill of cheese and soda, Whitesnake and Black Sabbath playing in the background, and then retreated to their seats for the movie: Eddie, Dottie, and Jeff on the couch, Donny to Jeff’s left as far away from the TV as he could sit, and Gareth on the remaining Lay-Z-Boy to Eddie’s right, bowl of popcorn for himself on his lap.

As soon as the movie started, it was clear Eddie’s expectations had been sorely mistaken. Dottie started stiff as a board between the two boys, slowly sinking into the couch as the minutes ticked, head hidden behind her knees. Jeff had a bit of success in getting her to relax when he attempted to tell her every time it was safe to look up, but after a miscalculation of the length of a scene involving various medical procedures, her eyes never went beyond the coffee table again. Gareth and Donny’s constant commentary helped ease the uncomfortable air in the room, but it was clear to Eddie that Dottie was not enjoying this situation one bit. Forgoing any ideas of romance, he pulled her into his side, letting her bury her head into his shirt as she tried to ignore the sounds coming from the TV while Regan thrashed on a hospital bed calling for her mother.

Donny looked at Eddie pointedly during a quiet moment, but he pretended not to see it, choosing instead to rub big circles on Dottie’s back in an attempt to calm down her heart rate, beating wildly against the side of his chest like it was trying to get out of her body. Progressively through the 122 minutes that the movie lasted, she pressed more and more of herself against Eddie trying to shield herself from the horrors on the screen, and truthfully, if he hadn’t been so distracted trying to comfort her, he would have been terrified too. By the time Regan was gilding down the stairs on all fours, Jeff was covering half his face with a decorative pillow. When she began hurting herself with a crucifix, even Donny who had been somewhat unaffected until that moment let out a perturbed “Jesus Christ”. By the time the actual exorcism had began, Donny looked like he desperately needed a cig, Jeff was threatening to throw up if Regan threw up again, and Dottie was shaking so much that Eddie straight up manhandled her into his lap like a child and covered the ear that wasn’t pressed up against his chest with his own hand. Credits rolled, and Gareth was the only one that moved out of his chair to stretch and turn on the lights, face pallid when he saw the angry faces of his friends.

“Uh…”

“Are you fucking serious, Gareth?” Donny said in disbelief, knees cracking with the sudden movement of standing up after two hours. “That shit was so fucked up!”

“Please don’t fight,” Jeff said tiredly, letting his pillow drop to the floor.

“Oh, I’m fighting,” Donny doubled down. “Look at Dot! You know she hates horror movies and you get this one? Couldn’t you get fucking Gremlins instead?”

“It’s not that scary, it’s so obvious everything’s totally fake! You can see the tube stuck to her head when she throws up!”

“That was so fucking gross,” Jeff added, still looking a little green himself.

“It’s okay-” Dottie began, wiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her red cardigan, but Donny interrupted her again.

“This is what you were giving her shit for in the video store?”

“Okay, shit- I get it. I fucked up,” Gareth lifted his hands. “I honestly didn’t think it was that scary the first time I saw it.”

“Man, you need to see a shrink if that shit didn’t scare you,” Eddie said, no longer all cozied up to Dottie, but still keeping one arm around her for support.

“I’m sorry,” Gareth looked at Dot, who was the most affected out of his friends. “Didn’t mean to make you feel like ass for two hours. I thought we’d have fun with it.”

“You’re mean, and I hate you, but it’s okay,” she said, grumpily pouting but lifting her arms to ask him for a hug which he immediately gave her. “Just don’t do it again. And you have to go with me to the bathroom now because I’m gonna pee myself and I don’t wanna be in there alone.”

“I’ll hold your hand while you pee, you big wuss.”

Gareth and Dottie climbed up the stairs, him cracking the stupidest jokes to get her to relax while Jeff busied himself going to grab the ice cream so everyone could cool down before the second movie. Donny got his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and nodded at Eddie to follow him outside. They pressed their backs to the cold brick, the lights spilling out from the glass panel on the door illuminating their faces with warm yellow tones. They smoked for a few minutes in silence, looking out onto the fenced-in backyard.

“That shit was wild,” Donny said. "Can't believe they made a twelve-year-old pretend to stab her own pussy with a fucking cross."

"You think that actress was really 12?" Eddie mused.

"Well, she looked like it."

"Yeah, but... maybe she was like 16 and just looks really small? Dunno, but that was crazy. Was she really telling that priest to fuck that other priest?"

"Yeah," Donny chuckled, throwing a bit of ash to the ground. "Saw you, by the way."

"Saw me?"

"You two. Dottie sitting on your lap."

"Oh, fuck off," Eddie scoffed.

"I'm not saying anything weird was happening. Just that I saw you."

"She was terrified, man. Never seen her shake like that, and I've seen her scared before," the eldest said, bitterly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm telling you, I could feel her fucking heartbeat and that shit didn’t feel healthy. She's gonna sleep with her lights on for a week."

"Shit. Didn't realize it was that bad or I would have said something. Honestly thought she was playing it up a little bit, getting cozy with you."

"Nah, she's not like that."

"How do you know?" Eddie shrugged, and Donny narrowed his eyes. "What's been going with you two lately? You're like, attached at the hip."

Eddie took his time to answer, letting the smoke in his lungs leave his body slowly, savoring the peace and quiet of the Friday night. Donny had been his first friend in the group, and if anyone deserved honesty after showing him so much loyalty, it was him. Maybe he'd have valuable insight to share with him in return.

"I'm whipped, Don. That's what's going on," Eddie said.

"Tell me something I don't know, dude."

"Is it that obvious?"

"To me, yes. I don't think the others have noticed yet."

"Yeah, well, it's bad. Like really, really bad. Like I'm one more pout away from dropping on one knee and asking her to be the new Mrs. Munson bad."

"Jesus."

"Yup."

"So it's not just a crush? Are you, like, seriously in love with her?"

"I'm gonna go to prom and wear a tie for her. Take a wild fucking guess."

Donny stared at Eddie for a few seconds before smiling and shaking his head. The long haired boy lifted an eyebrow, questioning.

"Why haven't you asked her out yet?"

"I don't deserve her."

"Ed-"

"I just don't want to drag her down, y'know? She has all these plans, she’s gonna go to college, do cool stuff. I want to ask her when I have something real to offer. After graduation, once I get a job."

"Eddie, has it ever occurred to you that she really fucking likes you right now? You know, without all that extra shit?"

"I know she does."

"You do?" Donny looked at him like he'd grown two heads.

"I'm stupid, not blind. Dunno when she started to like me but yeah, I know she does."

"When did you figure it out?"

"We spent Mother's Day together."

"Oh."

"That's when I realized, damn, she must really like me to spend such a big day like this with me. And then her Dad gave me a manly talk so I just kinda put two and two together."

"Does she know you know?"

"I don't know if she even knows herself. She was telling me the other day that it's stupid boys and girls can't be friends without people reading too much into it. Maybe she’s in denial. I was.

“You were?”

“For like two days, yeah,” Eddie admitted.

"I'll ask Gareth about it. I bet he knows."

"You think?"

"They act like siblings all the time, if someone knows, it's him," Donny assured him, putting his cig out against the brick wall. "Hurry up though, she might get tired of waiting."

"Just a couple more weeks. Until I know if I graduate or not. It's the bare fucking minimum but she deserves it."

"Alright. I'm rooting for you, man. Go make me proud."

"Thanks, dude."

They returned to the basement after their smoke break, Donny giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder when they saw Dottie and Jeff back on the couch, heads together over a big tub of vanilla ice cream. Gareth was sitting on the floor in front of them scooping chocolate into a bowl that already had strawberry and vanilla in it. She was explaining the basics of the movie they were about to watch, warning them that things weren’t what they seemed and that it was about to get weird. Jeff looked terribly excited about the prospect of some lighthearted fun, and whatever talk Gareth and Dottie had had while they were in the bathroom (he’d apologized again while he stood in a corner, back to her and his eyes closed for good measure while she peed) had left him equally curious. The boy heard the words “boobs” and “murder” and decided he was all in for the experience.

Once everyone was back in their seats and had a cold treat in their hands to enjoy during the movie, lights went off and bright red lips filled the screen. Michael Rennie was ill the day the Earth stood still, but he told us… where we stand, Dottie mouthed following the lyrics, spoon resting on her lower lip. It was a complete 180 from the previous feature, her eyes now glued to the moving images, only rousing from her hypnosis to fill her spoon with more ice cream when Jeff prompted her to do so. She encouraged the boys to participate, instructing them to say “Janet” or “Oh, Brad” in a bored tone along with Riff Raff and Magenta during Dammit Janet or teaching them the steps to The Time Warp. Donny and Jeff, ever the performers, immediately jumped to action when Hot Patootie - Bless My Soul began, and Eddie twirled Dottie around proving himself to be quite the capable dancer when he put effort into it. Even Gareth got into the festivities when the pickaxe came out.

“Okay, that was awesome,” Jeff said while the credits were still rolling. “Didn’t know musicals could be, y’know, not Grease.”

“Take that back, Grease is legit,” Donny threatened him with his spoon.

“Less boobs than I was promised but still pretty good,” laughed Gareth, and Dottie chucked a pillow at his head.

“Looks like movie night is a success all thanks to Dot,” Eddie said, grinning at the girl that couldn’t sing for shit, but still knew all the lyrics to every beat of the musical. “Gareth, you’re banned from picking movies for a month.”

“I’ll take it,” he shrugged.

“Are there more musicals like this?” Jeff asked, and Eddie could see Dottie’s eyes glinting in the darkness.

“Well, there’s one about a demon barber…”

Eddie’s 20th birthday had been nothing like he was used to, but as he sat in Jeff’s brown-looking basement, his crush resting her weight against his shoulder as she animatedly explained to their friends the plot of Sweeney Tood: The Demon Barber of Fleet… Street, his spoon full of strawberry ice cream, and a pre-rolled joint in his backpack they were definitely going to sneakily smoke in the back of his van at some point during the night, he felt truly lucky for the first time in years. Everything was going to change for them in a few weeks, but Eddie really hoped that his 21st birthday would be as happy, if not more, as his 20th had been.

taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean

[walkeddeath]

I know we talked about it a little bit on disco but. talk 2 me about gen & gender Feelings.

I'm presenting this in the form of "screenshots i found on p.ntrist that rattle around in my brain at 3 am" but also with an asterisk*

GEN AND FEELINGS ABT GENDER:

but also, see the following:

gen is 90% detached from gender but 10% still that fifteen year old girl who walked into the forest and didn't come out for three months and can't remember being at their sixteenth birthday party. they are the girl who was a girl who wanted to have a best girl friend with the girl who wanted to be friends with girls who didn't like her because she hung out with gen the girl who was too much too loud too hyper too excited too too. they were the girl who liked pink but also blue and hated lime green but her mom still painted their room lime green and loved britney and christina and backstreet boys but her mom put up posters of nsync then tore it down when she listened to their music. gen is still, somewhere, in the forest in their soul in some where in some time a girl and also not and maybe a boy but in the way it wouldn't have made their mother mad to see them holding her best girl friend who did want to be her best girl friend and didn't like how the other girls had treated her when they wanted to be their friend.

but like, also, not a girl because whatever they are, in their core, at their fundamental makeup, is something that is actually untouchable.

[bluemoondemon]

Gonna start filling out character question charts cause there are too many Ruri thoughts in my brain

1. Growing up, Ruri's birthday was always celebrated by going to the noon festival. When he was very little, he thought the festival was his birthday celebration. After becoming a demon, Ruri started celebrating his birthday by watching the sunrise. He's not foolish enough to actually be with a direct line of the sun, but will position himself under a window so the rising sunlight comes in above him and hits the opposite wall.

2. Ruri is the most important person in his life. I don't have any other characters aside from his family who could fill that role...

3. On a down day/night, he takes off his Oiran and just wears the Hakama pants. Ruri only has the one style of clothing because it is the most comfortable for him to wear.

4. The temple he lives in was originally fairly run down. It took a while before the villagers went up there and cleaned everything up and fixed it, so it no longer looks abandoned. The ruins of the old Catholic Church and monastery dorms are still present, but in horrible disrepair. The temple itself does not get many visitors outside of New Year's, which suits Ruri very well. The few people who do come by on a regular basis are people complaining about the evil humans in their lives. This is basically a food report for him

5. The kids are his pets, for the short time he has them. Ruri does not dislike animals, but prefers not to keep them around.

6. Alcohol and a good meal raises the spirits

7. Ruri does have frequent depression. He calls them human relapses because they will be accompanied by memories of his parents and uncontrollable crying. The stress associated with being a demon makes him forget these things until it becomes too much then he has a mental break and falls into a depressive episode.

8. Ruri has never seen kabuki theater, but he would love it if he did. A true comedy fan

9. No favorite book for this boy, but he would love romance comedy if he could get his hands on any.

10. Ruri did get along with his parents. He was a mama's boy and a home body, but loved going out on his father's boat when given the chance. Because his parents got along his home life growing up was very nice.

11. I would probably convert Ruri to JJK or MHA universe, mostly because of franchise proximity. Not the biggest fan of either one, but I feel it would make sense for his character.

12. His favorite holiday is the Tsukimi moon festival on August 15th, his birthday

13. There is a mark that will appear and disappear on Ruri's chest. It is a red crescent moon and moonflower, his demon mark.

14. Ruri has never kissed anybody in his life! I cannot yet tell you if that is a lack of trying or just because he's asexual

15. He has loved and lost many people over the course of his life, but most of them have been forgotten.

16. If given three wishes, Ruri's first wish would be to be able to withstand sunlight. His second wish would be the death or destruction of Muzan, and his third wish would be infinite alcohol.

17. If stranded on an island, Ruri he would bring his pipe, his alcohol, his fan, and his hairpin. Whoever's with him is either going to be company or a meal for later.

18. "The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even touched; They must be felt with the heart" Hellen Keller

19. Romance? Honestly, idk. I'd love to start doing RP with Ruri as a character, and involving him with other characters to see if that's even a possibility. Building him by myself I have so little understanding of how he would interact with other people 😓😭

20. Ruri's first language is japanese. He speaks with a Nagasaki accent with a hint of Nanban. He does retain some Dutch, but it only comes out when he's really mad and is borderline unintelligible.

21. His most prized possession is a toss up between the hairpin that used to belong to his mother and his alcohol collection. One of those things is sentimental and the other is just a matter of pride

22. Until becoming a demon, Ruri had never stolen anything in his life. After the fact, he has stolen so many things he's lost count of what was stolen and what was a gift (everything was stolen)

I'll continue to answer more of these questionnaires, but if you have any questions you'd like me to answer, feel free to comment or DM them