#drugs trigger warning

[somelazyassartist]

Wonderful things are happening in the Infinite Dungeon today

[emotionaleating]

[traumawhomst]

Platonic Yandere Adopted Dad brain rot

(650 words)

Ok but imagine you’re on the run from the law, and you try and duck through someone’s property. You’ve done it a million times before but this time He’s milling about his property and sees you. You of course are ready to book it but you don’t need him tipping off the police of where you are. You nod along politely when he rambles about the local flora while you try and creep away.

You swear you can hear sirens getting closer when he asks you in for a snack if you want it. He asks in that slightly worried dad tone about when you last ate. You agree to come in quickly practically dragging him to his house, trying to ask questions about the wildflowers he was talking about.

You don’t realize that maybe this was a bad idea until you’re feet away from his back door. Maybe following strange men into unknown houses isn’t the safest idea, but you’ve learned to take some risks and forge ahead.

The house is nice, to your surprise. It comfortable but in the way that was made comfortable by the obvious care and love that wore it out. It was clean with soft looking furniture, decorated like something out of a picture book that was about going to your grandparents.

You sit at the kitchen table, (lovingly scuffed up you note) and find yourself relaxing despite everything. He gets you tea and some leftovers from the night before, sitting across the table with his own tea as he watches you trying not to scarf down his food like a wild animal. He gently prods at the fact you look hungry, and your clothes hadn’t been washed in a while. He even pointed out your shoes (that were functional even if they were mostly duck tape at this point). You almost laughed when he asked you if you were safe at home, leaning forward clear worry in his eyes.

You did your best to spin a good believable story, based on small bits of your past, that you knew you looked rough but thankfully you have someone close to help you get back on your feet. You don’t think he buys it at all but he doesn’t press or pry further instead talking about the area since you were going to stay close by. He talks about his kids, his youngest off to college and how he isn’t used to an empty home.

Even though you came here under false pretenses you find yourself enjoying talking to him. He’s the right mix of goofy dad and gentle concern that made it damn near impossible to say no when he offers a shower and clean clothes. You don’t have to of course, he does understand why you wouldn’t want to, but he’d feel so bad if he didn’t at least see if he had a better pair of shoes to wear.

So you cave, taking the offer of a shower and fresh pair of clothes. It’s not like you planned on staying afterward. He manages to find a pair of boots that fit and gives you some used but sturdy clothes to go along with it.

He doesn’t fight this time when you say you have to go, instead offers you one last cup of tea. After everything you can’t find it in yourself to say deny him the last small thing.

You’re not sure what happened but when you stood to finally leave, your legs folded under you and you woke up in a spare room. He fusses over you and asks if should call your relative or anyone to watch over you until you’re healthy again. Stuck in your lie you, agree to stay just until (he’s convinced you to stay) you’re back on your feet again.

[dice-n-slice-bitvh]

Hah! Fuck you single bitch, imagine being single.

I'm dating someone, go fuck yourself.

-✂️

Damn, didn't know that toys counted as a sentient being now- Wait, nevermind, not even a preschool toy would want to date you. Stop with hallucinations before you're sent to the Asylum again.

[doma3681]

Cry of Fear

[neshatriumphs]

Aight. Short lil' sweet, sad, whatever update and shit. Trigger warnings for mental illness fuckery and pills, etc.

The other day, for the first time since 2008 or so, your favorite bitch tried to self terminate. I don't wanna get too graphic but many pills and several pillows were used until I was placed in restraints by somebody hopped up on drugs.

I cried a lot, got sick, flooded with exhaustion and anxiety, went to work, and came home to the openings of a manic phase.

I am in said manic phase this moment. I have been doing housework for over 12 hours and rest nor sleep are on the horizon. I have had some tough conversations, but cannot contact some people, because they will try to send me to a facility.

Also. My rent was almost failed because of my roommate. I am not interested in ending my life, though I am still interested in my life ending.

I simply needed to get it off of my chest. I've been suffering in silence for months, but the past few days were the hardest it's been in years.

If you're still reading, I am both sorry and appreciative.

[schsas]

no context im fucking stupid

[dethronetheveil]

Bet on Me- Prologue

Synopsis- When Freya’s band gets invited to be an opener on Bad Omens’s EU tour, she is both thrilled and extremely nervous. Meanwhile, the boys in Bad Omens decide to have some fun, specifically involving Freya and Folio. Some bets are involved and some group conspiring. What will come of Freya’s time with Folio and the boys?

Characters- OC [Freya] x Nick Folio

Word Count- 591

Tag List- @dsireland86 , @foliosgirl [comment if you would like to be tagged in the next part!]

Trigger Warnings: cursing, mention of drugs

——

“Fuck!” Freya cursed between her teeth as she slid her guitar strap from her shoulder. The band had been at this same song for two hours now and for some reason Freya was finding it exceedingly difficult to get the chords right.

Sophia and G looked over at her with sympathetic eyes, but that was the last thing Freya needed right now— to be treated like a wounded animal. She waved her hand in the air and took a seat on the floor by her amp and took a swig of water. The sting of sweat dripping in her eyes informed her that it may be time for a break. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She looked back at her mates; Sophia, the lead singer, Georgia or G, the bassist, and Luna, the drummer. They all had followed suit and abandoned their stations for some water.

Freya watched as G made her way across the room and sat next to her. G shoved Freya with her shoulder, “I don’t ever remember you being this shit before,” she remarked teasingly.

“Fuck off, G,” Freya tried her best to sound just as nonchalant, but failed miserably, which was obvious from G’s hands shooting up in surrender.

“Sorry, Frey. I was just joking. It’s a hard fucking song, but you’ll get it in no time, I’m sure of it.”

Freya just smiled curtly and rested her head against G’s shoulder for a moment before observing the room around them. She noticed Sophia was nowhere to be seen, which was unlike her since she was basically their “team captain.”

“Where’s Soph?” Freya asked a bit louder in case Luna knew anything.

“She looked like she was getting a call. I think she stepped out back,” Luna responded and then went back to scrolling on her phone.

Freya didn’t really think anything of this. Sophia was always getting calls. The band didn’t really have a manager since they weren’t really popular anywhere besides local bars and on TikTok. That was kind of the dream though, famous enough to financially benefit, but not so famous that people wanted to know what color your shit was.

The silence in the room was broken a few moments later when Sophia busted through the back door, causing all the girls to jump out of their skin. She was wearing a crazed smile that Freya had only seen once before when Sophia had tried Molly back in Uni.

“Soph, what’s going on?” Freya asked gingerly.

“You lot will never believe who we’re going to be touring with this summer!”

Freya’s mind started racing. Of course they had toured with other bands before but no one that would get Sophia this excited.

“Who is it, Soph?” G asked after a beat.

“Well, ladies, we are going to be touring with none other than… drumroll please,” Sophia looked over to Luna, who abruptly grabbed her sticks and began to play a classic drumroll. The moment Luna hit the symbol with her stick, Sophia shouted, “Bad Omens! For their EU tour!”

The room erupted in screams as all the girls jumped up and hugged each other. This was incredible news and Freya should have been more excited, but this just meant more publicity, more eyes on her, exactly what she didn’t want. She plastered a fake smile on her face and hugged the rest of the girls. She stepped back from the group and could only muster up a simple, “Oh, fuck.”

[thatadhdfeel]

wishing safety to all. ❤️

(sorry if there’s any other options i didn’t think of! it’s early for me fhdjjsjfjf)

[cevansbrat0007]

Lemme Tell Ya Bout Some Stuff

I've been a little quiet lately. And here's why - if only because it's cathartic to write about these things. I moved out of my sober living house just shy of two months ago.

The apartment in which I live still encourages maintaining that sobriety. But unfortunately, it doesn't stop life from doing whatever the fuck it does.

Which means that a week ago today I found my roommate overdosed. Thankfully, we were able to save him. But it was terrifying. And traumatizing. And at the time, all I could think was that at least I know how to use Narcan.

I administered the spray. I rubbed his chest. I tried to guide him back. Meanwhile my other roommate called 911, she called out orders, she moved quick to open doors - she's a fucking badass superhero.

And because of that he's okay.

He's moving out and going to get some help. But he's alive and breathing. He gets another fucking chance and believe you me we have talked about how he is quickly running out of lives.

He's overdosed multiple times. He's double digits. And when we spoke finally I did everything short of punch him.

He fucked me up. He fucked my roommate up. And that shit hits in waves. But enough about that - seriously.

My fucking bright spot, is that for months my Tumblr Bestie and I have been planning a little vacay. Tomorrow, @curls-and-eyeliner and are gonna meet for the first time. I'm flying all the way down to Virginia to hang out with my girl.

And we're gonna have some serious fucking fun! We talk damn near every day, her and I. And she is hands down one of the most supportive people I have in my life.

I'm blessed to know her.

No different than how I've been blessed to know ya'll. I'm gonna finish packing my suitcase now. I love you.

Britt

[emotionaleating]

pls don’t flirt with me i want to be nonchalant so bad but i unfortunately crave connection so intensely that i will give you my entire soul and forgive you over and over until i’ve lost myself completely and feel like i’m drowning

[bloodywickedlips]

Conquer all

Summary: You are new to the team and notice something is going on with Spencer Reid, all the signs are there and you want to help him.

The elevator door opened and you stepped out looking at every one doing their own business.

You were lost and had no idea where to go. Seeing someone walk past you cleared your throat and stuck your hand out.

“Hi, sorry I'm miss Y/L/N, I’m looking for SSA Hotchner” you said with a smile and the woman in front of you looked around not sure what to do and smiled back at you.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked you and you shook your head and pulled you badge out.

“no, I’m supposed to start with his team today, new member and all” I said and blushed as she stared at me with wonderment.

“oh you are the new recruit, okay, yes his office is right through there, up the stairs” she said pointing with her very out there painted nails. You smiled and went to thank her but she scurried off before you could say anything.

“weird…” you said to yourself and walked through the glass doors and to the stairs. You were aware of the eyes following you but kept your head held high and knocked on Hotchner’s door and stepped inside with the ‘come in’ you heard.

You closed the door behind you and looked at the man in front of you.

Suit and tie with piles of paper work in front of him.

“Good morning sir, I was told to see you first thing today” you said to him and watched as he stood up and walked around the table. You smiled as he stepped forward and pulled you in for a hug.

“I was told you would be joining us” he said and looked you over. “So you got the heads up to babysit your niece then?” you grumbled and he laughed. He didn’t smile often or even laugh and it was nice to see him do it.

“No I know of no such thing” he said and you rolled your eyes knowing your father for being over protective.

“Your desk is right across Reid’s , and I’ll introduce you soon” he said and motioned for you to sit down.

“I would prefer if the team didn’t know we are related” you said and he frowned at you silently questioning why.

“Back home everyone knew my dad and assumed I got in because of him, I don’t want the same happening here” you clarified for him hoping he would understand.

“I see, well the whole team is profilers so I will keep it quiet but they catch onto things quickly” Hotch said and you smiled.

“Uncle Hotch I was top of my class, and I’m very good at lying. I’m sure ill be fine” you said and stood up to set up your desk.

“then no more uncle, is Hotch only” he said and you nodded appreciatively and walked out shutting the door once again.

You looked over the desks and saw only one empty one. You sat your bag down and looked at the guy sitting by his desk across from you, he was something else, he looked like someone that just stepped off of a magazine cover. Reid you recalled your uncle saying.

“you must be Reid, I'm Y/L/N “ you said sticking your hand out. “Well hello…how can I help you?” he said obviously trying to flirt. “Morgan why are you in my chair?” a voice said to your left and as you turned to look you saw a tall guy in a sweater with beautiful brown hair. What is it with this place? Did they only hire model approved agents?

“Sorry pretty boy, I was looking for something” the guy said and it fit. Pretty boy.

“Who are you?” pretty boy asked and you couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up your neck.

“Y/N Y/L/N…I'm new to the team. And I'm guessing you are Reid and you are Morgan?” you asked and looked at spencer checking you from head to toe. It didn’t make your blushing any better.

“yeah, uh Spencer, Spencer Reid” he said and you noticed he didn’t try to shake hands with you instead he was scratching at his neck, which you could tell was already irritated from his scratching.

“and I’m Derek Morgan sweetness” the other man said and stuck his hand  out for you to shake.

You gripped his hand tightly and he turned it over “Nice ink” he said and you nodded as you looked down to your tattoo on your wrist.

It was something special to you that you had gotten a few months back, it was a stack of books with a small word saying conquer all.

Morgan let go and retreated to his own desk and you were left to set up your own. A few minutes later you were called to the meeting room and met the rest of the team before being prepped for a new case.

As you were listening to JJ explain what was happening you couldn’t help but steal glances at spencer. His leg was bouncing non stop and his eyes were never settled for long, and scratching. His neck and then elbow and then neck again. Never stopping.

After the briefing you grabbed your go bag and went over the files on the jet. You always sat on your own when working as then your mind was fully focused.

The case took four days in which you grew closer to the team and kept an eye on spencer’s antics. They never stopped.

Arriving back at the office you all had to fill in your own reports and you got a congratulations from the team on putting the profile together so quickly.

You just finished your report when you saw Spencer walk to the rest room and looked around first to see no one watching and walked after him.

You shut the men’s bathroom door and locked it behind you. There was only one cubicle door closed and you sighed, you hoped that you were wrong but all the signs were there.

“How long?” you asked out loud and heard spencer gasp “Shit..” before something dropped and it managed to roll right under the door and stop in front of your shoes. You bent down and picked it up.

Dilaudid, a narcotic painkiller.

The door flung open and spencer snatched it out of your hand.

“It’s not what you think” he said and walked to the sink to wash his hands. “Spencer talk to me” you said and frowned at him trying to help.

“Don’t call me that, it’s Doctor Reid” he snapped at you and you understood he wasn’t angry he was embarrassed.

“Reid, if you need help….” You started to say but he spun around and glared at you “I don’t know what you are talking about” he hissed and you shook your head.

“None of them know?” you asked surprised that no one has picked it up.

“Shut up, you know nothing” Spencer hissed at you and he stormed out of the bathroom and you followed after him, going to your own desk.

Spencer avoided you and you couldn’t blame him. He was angry and embarrassed, but you knew he was angry that you had picked it up and none of his team mates/ family picked it up.

“Don’t stay too late guys” Hotch said to both you and spencer and an idea struck you.

“No we are actually just leaving. Spencer and I am going to grab a coffee and a few books to read” you said smiling at your uncle.

“oh Reid can I ask you to pick up a book for Jack to read. We’ve finished the last book you gave us” Hotch said and you could see spencer wanted to decline but you mentioning going to a bookstore had him stuck.

“Sure Hotch” Spencer said and you smiled and grabbed your bag. Spencer stood up as well and pushed his chair back in a little bit too hard but Hotch didn’t seem to notice.

You walked with spencer and hotch to the elevator and waited till the doors opened to the basement where all the cars were parked.

“Come on Reid, my car is this way” you said and bid Hotch a goodnight and spencer had no choice but to follow you.

You got into the car and waited for spencer to get in, slamming your door resulting in you rolling your eyes.

You drove through the city until you got to the bookstore and looked at spencer but he was avoiding your gaze.

“Come on” you said and got out of the car and walked to the bookstore. You walked to the door and spencer huffed as he saw the closed sign on it.

“It’s closed, nice thinking” he remarked and you rolled your eyes again as you pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Reid just get inside” you grumbled having enough of his attitude.

Spencer frowned but walked in and followed you through the aisles after closing and locking the door.

You approached the chairs and smiled as you saw some of the few people that you knew.

“Anyone else?” you heard and sighed as you walked up and turned to face spencer that was still standing for an explanation.

“Hi everyone, my name is Y/N and I’m a recovering addict. Now we can all speak freely here as all of us are in some parts of law enforcement. So where should I start? Uh I’ve had to deal with some nasty people out there. So it all started when a case went bad, I ended up getting shot and needed surgery. I was in hospital for a long time, and there I fell into the rabid hole of morphine. I lost friends and family as my addiction got worse and I nearly overdosed while on the job. My mind was so busy that I forgot I had already shot up that morning and only a few hours later did I take another dose. My co worker found me passed out in my motel room and had to phone an ambulance. It was then and there I decided I couldn’t carry on like that. I had to be stronger and conquer this addiction. So this coming Wednesday I will be sober for a year” you explained and the people around you cheered and clapped but your eyes were only set on spencer.

He had tears in his eyes and you felt your heart break a little bit for him.

You walked back and sat down for the next person to speak. Spencer joined you and sat next to you.

“How…” spencer asked and you turned to him with a sad smile “It takes one to know one” you said softly and watched as he nodded and turned back to listen to other stories.

After the meeting was finished you said goodnight to everyone and locked the door again.

“So what you have permission to use the store?” spencer asked behind you and you chuckled.

“No, it’s mine. Only thing I found pleasure in my whole life was books. So I bought my own bookstore” you explained.

“Reid, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have gotten involved” you said and looked down at your feet.

“No I’m sorry, I was just embarrassed. And angry that none of my family is helping, but only a true friend would get in the line of fire to try and help” spencer said and you stepped up to him.

“I will help Reid, anything you need” you said and spencer nodded and reached into his bag. You frowned not knowing what he was doing until he held out his hand and when he opened it you saw the three bottles. “Take them…please” Spencer said with a tremble in his voice.

You took the bottles from him and stepped forward slowly, wrapping your arms around him.

Spencer was stiff for a few seconds before his arms circled you and a sob tore through his throat.

“It’s okay Spencer, you will get through this. I will help you” you said and hugged him tighter. You knew there were a lot of hard days ahead, detoxing was one of the worst things to go through, but you would get him through it and stay by his side.

“I’m at a disadvantage here” spencer said as he pulled away and wiped his eyes.

“You know a secrete about me but I know almost nothing about you” he said and you smiled staring up into his beautiful eyes.

“I have an uncle in the BAU” you said and watched Spencer’s eyebrow squint together trying to think who it was.

“Come on let’s grab that book my uncle asked you for” you said and laughed out loud as spencer’s eyes went wide. “Hotch!! Hotch is your uncle?” he exclaimed and you shook your head at him and grabbed his hand to lead him to the children books. You knew he wasn’t big on touching but it warmed your heart when he didn’t pull away but instead grabbed your hand tighter.

[hexiewrites]

It’s not the first time Steve has to call an ambulance that does it. 

The first time he’s fucking terrified, coming home from a long shift at the new Blockbuster down the street and dinner after with a coworker only to find his boyfriend, passed out on the floor of their shared apartment. He panics, at first, because what the fuck is he supposed to do, and then he gets it together and calls 911. The paramedics won’t let him in the ambulance so he follows behind in the beamer, white knuckles the steering wheel, all the way to the hospital. They won’t let him go all the way in and he paces for hours in the waiting room, drinking shitty hospital cafeteria coffee, before the nurse finally tells him where to go.

And the thing is. The thing is it makes sense. Eddie’s been struggling since the Upside Down. So has Steve, to be honest. They’ve both been crashing, different vices, different issues. So the first time he has to call the ambulance, he gets it. It makes sense, even though it hurts. Sometimes things happen, and Steve can’t fault Eddie for one night of too many goddamn whiskeys. Hell, he’s come pretty close to that point himself, more times than he can count lately. He makes a promise to himself to be better, to be there when Eddie needs him.

To be enough.

It’s not the second time he calls the ambulance that does it either, because as much as that one hurts, it still makes sense. Eddie on the ground gives his brain Eddie in the Upside Down, broken and bleeding and almost fucking dead and Steve calls the ambulance but he chugs a beer back before he follows in the beamer. And fuck, they’ve been through it, haven’t they? Eddie’s been trying but of course it’s going to be hard. People make mistakes and god knows Steve’s made his own, so who is he to do anything but try. Try harder to make Eddie see he doesn’t need this shit. To make him see that Steve loves him so much, loves him enough for both of them, loves him enough to get them through it. So that’s what he does. 

He tries, even though he’s failing too. There’s beer in the house and he gets it, now. How much it helps to keep the noise down.

They’ve been fighting about it, even though they don’t have much else they fight about.

So of course he gets it.

The third time he has to call hurts even more. Of course it does, it screams Eddie’s failing and you’re failing and why can’t you be good enough, why can’t you love him enough to fix it. But the hurt is washed over by anger because how can he keep doing this after everything they’ve been through? Hours of meetings together. Weeks of Eddie off in rehab. Whispered promises that it’s done, it’s over. You can’t beat addiction but you can control it. They can focus on them. Maybe start that family they keep talking about. It’s behind them now. It was supposed to be behind them. 

But it’s not even the third time, because the third time when Eddie wakes up he looks devastated but he still manages a smile. Still manages to say, voice rough because of the intubation, third time’s the charm, right baby? And- the average addict relapses four times, but I’ve always been below average, huh? I can feel it. This is gonna be my year.

And Steve’s not perfect either. He’s doing better, yeah, he’s putting in the work, but he’s not perfect. He’s better though. He’s been better because he’s been trying. He’s still trying because he keeps picturing Eddie, baby on his hip, cooing and giggling. Picturing them curled up at forty, at fifty, at eighty. Looking back and saying wow, we were fucked up then but we had each other. We got through it together like we always did. So the third time hurts. It pisses him off. But he’s still holding that picture in his mind, despite it fraying at the edges just a bit. 

But the fourth time, when it should all be behind them because it had been better, they’d been better, when he comes home and finds Eddie on the floor, broken bottle next to him, needle still in his arm… 

Well. Fourth time’s the fucking charm for him.

He calls the ambulance, watches Eddie get loaded in, feels the tears drying onto his cheeks. One of the paramedics knows him from the last time and gives him this sad smile. Says “we got him soon enough, think he’s gonna be okay. He’s lucky, your boy, but even cats only get nine lives.” Steve shuts the ambulance door and doesn’t get in his car to follow. He heads back up the stairs, cleans up the vomit, and starts to pack.

He puts his most important things in the beamer, leaves the rest. Doesn’t leave a note because he doesn’t know what to say. Calls the hospital before he goes because he has to know—Eddie’s awake and asking for him.

He drives to a liquor store instead. Drives until he can’t anymore and checks into a motel halfway between Chicago and Hawkins. 

Thinks about his blue two year chip (sitting on his nightstand in the apartment, one of the things not precious enough to bring) as he twists open the bottle, and finally finally finally lets the sweet relief of whiskey burn through his throat. 

He’ll regret it tomorrow, but tonight? It’s the only thing he has left. 

Steve doesn’t go back to Chicago for nearly four years. He thought about it. Thinks about it. Constantly. He knows that Eddie’s alive because Dustin kept in touch, will give him a little knowing nod every time they see each other (rare, these days, as Steve barrels towards thirty and the kids finish university, get jobs across the country, try to make it home for Christmas and don’t always succeed). He never asks for more because it’s too hard to hear. Dustin tells him, one day, that Eddie’s doing really well now. Steve doesn’t know if he can believe it. He doesn’t want to believe it, because if Eddie’s doing well now without him it means he’s the problem he’s the reason he—he calls his therapist and puts in the fucking work.

He stays in Hawkins. Faces his demons, mostly metaphorical now. Spends a lot of time with Hopper, who gets it more than almost anyone but still wants better for him. Spends hours on the phone with Robin, who begs him to go back into the real world but he can’t, because it hurts too much. Takes enough correspondence classes to get an associate’s degree. Starts driving to the community college a few towns over for classes and upgrades to a Bachelors of Psychology, and starts to understand himself and Eddie and trauma, and things start to hurt a little less. He doesn't drink anymore, goes to meetings with as much regularity as he can, and when he’s finally got a new two year chip in his hands he thinks he might be ready. It hurts like an old wound, twinging in the rain but mostly fine, and he thinks he could maybe handle Chicago again.

He still doesn’t go. 

At the end of the day, it’s the acceptance letter into the Masters of Educational Counselling program at the University of Illinois that does it. He honestly hadn’t been expecting to get in, it’s a competitive program and Steve Harrington who barely graduated high school doesn’t exactly scream school counsellor material. But his essay was good, he knows it was. And he knows he’s going to be good at this. 

So he packs up the beamer, again. Pulls over to sleep in a tent on the side of the road and calls Hopper from a payphone, sobbing because he can’t do it. 

He does it anyway.

He gets to Chicago and his apartment’s on the opposite side of town now but the first time he drives past the hospital again he has a breakdown so bad he almost goes home. But he’s been putting in the work, and he’s doing more than trying now. He’s solid, he’s stable, and he pulls himself together. He calls Hopper and Robin, he goes to meetings, he’s doing well.

He’s studying in a coffee shop, down the street from his apartment, when the open mic starts. 

“Hi everyone,” says a voice that Steve would recognize from a hundred miles away. He forces himself to look and Eddie’s on the little stage, an acoustic guitar in hand. "Thanks for being here with me today. I've got some new stuff for y'all that I think you're going to like."

And then he plays. Steve gives up on his work, leans back in the chair, and watches. Eddie looks... he looks good. Better than he had when Steve was around. His hair's still long but it's curly and bouncy, and his skin is bright and alive in the way an addict's never is. His fingers skip, sure and strong, over the frets and his voice is that same melody Steve has never let himself forget, with this almost bluegrass twang that makes Steve's heart ache. He’s playing different music, and he’s shining like he’s made of gold in the late afternoon sun.

There's something about it, about watching Eddie, that feels a bit like healing. Eddie had always loved to play, but the music scene he was in had broken him before, not fixed him. He'd always wanted to make more of his own music, and here it is and it's good. The songs are catchy, straddling his blues/folk upbringing and his rock/metal lifestyle.

And then Eddie finishes a song, maybe his sixth, and his eyes scan the crowd and Steve feels when they land on him. He feels the way the whole room runs out of air, all at once, and Eddie is totally frozen for a full minute. Steve's heart is beating a million miles an hour-he wants to get up, he wants to run, but he's frozen to the seat. Pinned by Eddie's gaze.

And he knows he's been doing better, he has, but nothing was ever as good as it could have been because this is what he was missing.

"I've got," Eddie finally says, and has to stop and clear his throat. "I've got one more song for you." He's talking to the audience, but he never looks away from Steve, and the room has narrowed so much it might as well only be only the two of them there. "This one's about the one I chased away."

Steve pays attention to the lyrics and his heart breaks half a dozen times. Eddie sings about hating himself, about Steve hating him, about how the thing that tore them apart is the thing Eddie will never touch again, how the hatred is what drove him to be better. He sings about forgiveness and healing and when he finishes the coffee shop claps, Eddie waves, and the spotlight cuts.

It isn't even a conscious decision, but Steve finds himself walking up to the stage. Eddie turns away from where he's put the guitar away, their eyes meet again and it feels like coming home.

"I don't hate you," Steve whispers, because he's forgotten how to speak. "I never could."

"I'd understand if you would," Eddie says, and he's stepping closer. They're a foot apart now, eyes locked, and Steve's hands are shaking.

"I've been, uh, working really hard on myself." Steve admits, and he can't help himself. He lifts a hand and tucks a curl behind one of Eddie's ears. "I... I think about you all the time."

Eddie grins, and leans into his touch. "Me too," he murmurs, and drags his thumb over Steve's cheekbone. "I've been putting in the fuckin' work, Steve. And it's not easy, and I'm not perfect. I can't ever promise you perfect. But I'm three years sober, and I think I'm worth it, now. I think you're worth my love and I think I'm worth yours."

"I put in the fuckin work too," Steve mumbles, and he tips his head forwards so their foreheads hit.

When they're forty, they look back on this moment and grin at how little they knew. How much they believed their love would be enough, because the first time it wasn't. But this time, now that they've grown, that they've put in the fucking work?

This time, it's enough.

Eddie looks good with babies on his hips. Steve loves him more every day. They look back at forty, at fifty, at eighty, and they know their love could only have existed because they broke it, and learned by themselves how to fix it. It still hurts sometimes, aches like an old wound, but all Steve needs to do is to squeeze Eddie's hand, to feel his heart beating, and he knows:

He wouldn't trade what they have for the world.

(click here to read Eddie’s version, by the incredibly talented @riality-check !)

[camp-lad-david]

having a fun night! ❄️😵‍💫

she's better at doing that with hooves than i ever will be with fingers!

[funpuddle]

[skullfuckasswhore]

She bleeds so sweetly, how could I ever stop?