#i ate like half a tub of ice cream

[dial-phone-makes-a-dialtone]

I put him in the microwave >:)

none of you are prepared for the power of me and free editing software.

[tieflingbi]

i'm gone for like 2 weeks and i come back to see tumblr live is a thing here now i love pain and agony 🙃

[love--bites]

I have this friend that I haven't seen in a year. Last time I saw them, they were skinnier than me and barely ate when stopping by. They didn't ask for snacks or anything to eat unless I was already planning on eating something. That's all fine and good, but I saw them again after about a year...

They had clearly put on at least 100 pounds, potentially 150, and I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating, but I assure you that I'm not. When the couch barely made a sound before, it creaked and groaned against their weight. When they had no issues getting around, going up the stairs left them out of breath. When the floorboards were silent with their footsteps, they now stepped heavily around the house with the boards creaking loudly underneath them. Even their clothes, which had to be new, were struggling against their overstuffed belly.

The first thing they did was ask me for something to eat, so I gladly made them ramen. They requested two packets and a soft-boiled egg, and I gladly provided. After their meal, they asked for snacks, so I willingly gave them whatever they wanted - all that I had. They finished an entire box of cheezits and a half of a second box. They also finished half a box of cookies. They wanted hot chocolate to go with this, so again, I provided, making sure to add extra whip cream and small marshmallows. As much as I tried not to, I found myself sneaking a glance at their shirt that was now riding up on them slightly as their belly hung over their pants.

They told me they were still hungry and somewhat reluctantly asked if I had anything left to eat. I happily agreed and made a full pizza, not expecting to eat a single bite of it myself. I brought the pizza over to the kitchen table, and they took a seat, the wooden chair creaking loudly as they did so. After I added some extra cheese on top, they took a slice and quickly devoured it. Then they took another, and another. I kept them talking as they ate, somewhat of a distraction, and before they realized it, they had eaten the entire pizza. I could tell their pants were barely clinging to them, and it was clear their shirt was riding up much more than it had been before. They looked stuffed, and I could see a look in their eyes that said, "If I eat any more, I'll pop."

Their stomach, however, disagreed with their comfort and growled. Clearly embarrassed, they tried to play it off, but I knew better. I grabbed them a dessert - a tub of strawberry ice cream, a small slice of chocolate cake, ice, extra sugar, a bit of cinnamon, and a half pint of heavy cream. I pulled out my blender and made a delicious and thick milkshake. How many calories it was, I can't exactly say, but I had to be a good host to my starving friend, no? I couldn't let them go hungry.

I handed them a glass of the drink, and, hesitantly at first, they started politely drinking, but as they continued, their polite sips turned into desperate gulps, as if they hadn't drank anything in ages. They chugged the drink down - one glass became two, and two became three, and so on until the drink had been finished entirely. Their breathing was a bit more labored as they sat, seemingly pinned to their chair by their weight, and with one final gulp of their glass, the button on their pants flew off, and their belly spilled out of the far-too-tight jeans. They were extremely embarrassed, but of course, I reassured them, letting them know that it just meant there was more room to eat their fill.

As their belly hung out, filled to the brim with food, it growled, begging for more. My friend's expression said that they could barely handle more, but their stomach clearly had other ideas. With a polite smile, I asked, "Are you still hungry?"

[allfryam]

bulk up

Evan was in his final year of high school. He just turned 18 and he was feeling great. He was the star of the football team and he had a smokin hot body. His abs looked like they were chiseled from stone, his pecs sat like trophies on his chest. His arms glistened and bulged with muscles. one day after practice, his coach called him over. Even ran over, dripping with sweat. “I need you to move up a weight class”. Coach said. “We’re starting to struggle against teams with bigger players. We need some more meat on the team.” Evan was skeptical. He would have to give up his precious abs? He didn’t know if he could. But coach convinced him it would only be around 20 pounds, and he could lose it when the season ended. that night, instead of making a fresh, healthy meal, Evan drove to McDonald’s and ate a large Big Mac meal. He couldn’t believe how good it felt. Soon, Evan was off of school for a few weeks due to construction. This also meant no football practice. He didn’t mind though. He was too busy bulking. He spent most of his days shirtless, playing video games and eating snacks in his room. Without realizing he had already gained over 15 pounds. All of the junk food and snacks that he was eating was starting to take a toll on his waistline. His abs had slowly disappeared, and his muscles began to grow softer. He had a slight paunch that hung over the waistband on his underwear. by the time the construction was over and Evan could get back to school, his pants were quite hard to button. He mostly just wore sweatpants anyway. His smallest shirts began to ride up and reveal a sliver of his belly. at practice, coach called Evan over again. “You been bulking?” “Yes sir” Evan replied. Coach took Evan to the scales to see how much weight he had gained. “You lost a pound?! What the hell is wrong with you?! I’m going to have to do this myself. Come to my house later tonight.”

Evan was confused. He was sure he put on weight. None of his pants fit, and his abs were completely gone. He arrived at coaches house and knocked on the door. Coach let him in and told him to have a seat at the table. Evan still didn’t know what coach had in store but he was scared. He was also pretty hungry. Coach brought out 3 pizzas, a cake, canned pastas, ice cream, and a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Evan’s eyes grew wide. “You’re not leaving tonight until you eat all of this food.” Coach yelled. “But coach-“ coach shut him up and told him to eat. evan started with the pizza. He did good on the first two, but the last one was giving him trouble. It took a while, but eventually he finished the last slice. Next was the pasta. He was already pretty full but coach wouldn’t let him take a break. Evan kept eating and moaning as he got fuller and fuller. His belly was starting to stretch and expand, and his belt grew tight. He ripped it off and undid his pants and let out a sigh of relief. He continued to eat and eat until the pasta was gone. Coach let him take a little break before dessert but it didn’t help much. Evan dug into the cake with his hands, shoving fistfuls of food down his throat. His face was covered in pizza sauce, grease, and chocolate icing. He continued through the cake until he started feeling nauseous. “I thought this might happen. Here” coach said as he gave Evan some anti nausea medicine. After a couple minutes Evan felt better and finished off the cake. For the last two things, Evan combined the cookies and the ice cream to make it easier for himself. He took off his tight shirt to make some room and he dug in. After an hour of moaning and burping, he couldn’t do it. There was still a few cookies left and almost half a tub of ice cream. “You’re gonna come back every night until you can finish one of my feasts boy” coach yelled.

after a few weeks of this, Evan was still unable to finish one of coach’s meals, but they were definitely starting to affect his body. His slight paunch had grown into a round ball gut. His pecs were saggy moobs and his tight ass was big and jiggly. His thighs almost doubles in size and he had an extra chin now. But Evan was competitive. He wouldn’t stop until he won.

[marwritesgood]

Come Back to Me | S. Harrington

Pairing: Steve x Hopper!Reader

Timeframe: Season 4

Summary: A long anticipated reunion, but nothing was going to plan.

previous part

series masterlist // main masterlist

a/n: its good to be back :) adding a lil author’s note in the comment section regarding this pt x

December, 1978

Y/n couldn't sleep.

She wasn't sure what time it was. She wasn't sure how long it had been since her mom told her it was lights out, or how long she had been staring at the ceiling since, haunted by the silence. Time moved much differently now. Everything was different without Sara.

Knowing there was no chance she would be sleeping anytime soon, Y/n sat up shifted out from beneath her comforter, and carefully opened her bedroom door. As she crept closer to the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise to wake her parents, she realised her dad had already beaten her to the freezer.

“Y/n?" Hopper squinted and switched the kitchen light on to be sure. She looked a tired mess, but then again, so did he. “Bug, what are you still doing up?”

Y/n sighed, doubling back, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Explaining herself to either one of her parents had become something she dreaded. It was the very reason she tried to limit her conversations with them altogether, not that they made it all that difficult.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

To her surprise, Hopper smiled. It was faint and hidden behind a sigh of his own, but it was there. Y/n wasn't sure why she was expecting a lecture followed by an order to go back to her room, but she knew she was grateful such a reaction was nowhere in sight.

“Me neither," Hopper replied, his eyes dancing between the floor and the door to the freezer. He looked back to his eldest daughter, now his only daughter, and pursed his lips. “I know it’s more of you and your mom’s thing but… I could really go for some ice cream right about now.”

Y/n smiled weakly, a quiet chuckle slipping out from between her lips.

“Me too.”

She took her seat at the dinner table and Hopper followed suit shortly after with a tub of ice cream and two spoons. They ate together in silence, each stealing quick glances at the other from time to time, both grateful for the precious moment in time where there was no expectation of them to do or be anything other than a father and his daughter eating ice cream in the middle of the night.

***

March, 1979

Y/n couldn't sleep.

She couldn't remember the last time she was able to, but she knew there was no chance of her being able to for a hell of a long time now. Every time she came close to drifting off, all she could see was her mom and Sara, two faces she would never be able to see again.

However, this time was different. This time, she drifted off for only a moment before waking up abruptly, a panicked mess. Her chest moved rapidly as she heaved, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to calm herself down, but to no avail.

Desperate for something, anything, to soothe her, she sprinted to the kitchen barefoot, too numb to feel anything much less the ground beneath her. Instinctively, she opened the freezer, hoping a few spoonfuls of ice cream would be enough to bring some sense back to her body, only to be met with emptiness.

It seemed three weeks of avoiding the groceries had finally caught up to the Hopper household.

As she shut the freezer close, the front door swung open. Hopper came stumbling in, barely bothering to close the door shut behind him, much less look where he was going. Y/n realised that this was routine for him as she watched him navigate his way through the clutter and rubbish and into his bedroom. He didn't even notice her standing in the kitchen, still hyperventilating, still a panicked mess.

This was how it was, she realised, and this was how it would be for a hell of a long time. With half of their family gone, it seemed only inevitable. Y/n stood frozen in the dark for a while, haunted and paralysed by the silence. She didn't feel like she was anyone's daughter, and it didn't feel like Hopper was anyone's dad anymore.

It appeared that they were nothing more than two ghosts tethered to a house, they no longer wanted to be in, but in no way tethered to each other anymore.

***

April, 1980

After listening to him fumble with his keys for a solid ten minutes, Y/n watched from the kitchen as Hopper came stumbling into their home. She cleared her throat.

“Where have you been?”

Hopper stumbled back, startled that Y/n was still awake. His breath hitched when he realised the look she had on her face. He knew this was an all-time low for him, but he felt too far-gone to abandon the habits he had developed over the past year, however bad they were.

“There was a holdup at the-“

“Are you drunk again?” Y/n's voice was loud and angry, sobering Hopper up completely for a split second. She kissed her teeth and shook her head. “Dad, come on, you promised me.”

This was not the first time Hopper had been called out on having too much to drink, and at the rate he was going at, Y/n knew it would not be the last. She hated the person he was turning into and hated herself for giving him the benefit of the doubt so many times.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, trying to stand straight and still, but failing miserably to do so. As he continued to sway, struggling to keep his balance, Y/n's brows drew closer together as she remembered the hellish evening she had to endure on her own.

“You know everyone was asking where you were.”

And naturally so, Y/n told herself. It was his wife's and his daughter's memorial and he was nowhere to be seen. Their friends and family came from all across the Midwest, but he couldn’t despite being in the same town.

“I’m sor—“

“Aunt Jenna kept telling me I was always welcome to go to her place in Michigan," Y/n interrupted him, her voice growing louder as she grew angrier just recounting the conversation.

Telling her she was welcome to come over anytime meant they had no faith in her dad’s ability to look after her, which Y/n resented and refused to play into.

"I had to lie to everyone, just to keep them from asking questions ab—“

“Dammit, Y/n, I said I was sorry!”

She gulped, taken aback by his outburst, but willing herself not to flinch or let it go. He had gone too far that night, and she was done giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Hopper's shoulders slumped and he drew in a sharp breath, regret seeping in almost instantly. He hated what his habits did to his temper, but not enough to resist what it did to his grief.

“I really am…" Hopper whispered, his feet finally steadying. "I’m sorry, bug.”

Usually that would be enough. A short apology and a half-hearted promise not to do it again and she would be off to her room and he'd be free to sleep the night off. This time, however, Y/n crossed her arms and clenched her jaw, giving Hopper the impression it wasn't enough. Far from it.

“You know, I wish you’d stop apologising and just be better, dad."

Her voice was as cold and piercing as the stony glare she unmistakably targeted at him. He lost her faith in him bit by bit over the course of the past year. Now, she was sick to death of his empty words.

Hopper winced. It was fair, part of him knew that. However, at the same time, an overwhelming part of him continued to scream that it was unfair. All of it.

He went to speak but found a quiet so escaping his lips.

“I just... I miss them so much.”

“I know, I miss them too," Y/n whispered softly, giving Hopper the impression that she was finally letting it go.

But, instead, her glare grew more piercing.

“That’s why I showed up to their fucking memorial," she hissed before going to her room and slamming the door shut.

Hopper collapsed onto the couch, but he couldn't sleep the night off. Instead, he laid awake, staring at the ceiling as it continued to spin, the sound of Y/n's voice echoing all night in his head. It was all unfair.

***

November, 1982

Y/n’s eyes closed and she was hoping to get even a few minutes of shut-eye but her father was not going to let that happened. It was bad enough she had to endure a lecture from him at the station, in front of her friends from school.

“You’re lucky officer Robinson recognised you and told me, otherwise you’d be spending the night at station with everyone else.”

Hopper gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles were beginning to turn pale. He gave his daughter a quick sideways glance before ultimately deciding it was in both of their best interest he kept his eyes on the road.

“Lucky me,” Y/n muttered, not even bothering to open her eyes, her head still rested against her window. She desperately hoped he would just move on already, but from the audible huff he let out, Y/n knew he still had much to say to her.

“What were you even thinking? Anything could have happened to you.”

Hopper's heart sank when he got the dispatch call from Robinson. The entire drive back to the station, all he could think of was all the sorts of trouble his daughter could have been in had she not been taken in.

Y/n was quiet for a moment. Letting out a sigh, she opened her eyes and looked at Hopper momentarily before turning back to the view outside her window. Maybe it wasn't the wisest choice, but underage drinking at a house party definitely beat sitting at home alone on a Saturday night for the millionth time in a row.

“…You’re never home,” she mumbled quietly.

“That’s no excuse, Y/n.”

He was right. It was no excuse. Not for her at least. Him not being home never stopped her from keeping the house in somewhat order, keeping her grades up at school and staying out of trouble. There was no doubt Y/n had it in her to do everything expected of her, but it wasn’t fair that for all she did for her dad, the favour was never paid back.

Y/n bursted into a fit of quiet cries.

"Bug?" Hopper's voice and expression softened completely. "Bug what’s going on?"

The fact that he didn't know made Y/n's tears multiply. Usually the lonely Saturday nights didn't bother her quite as much, but it was the anticipating sitting alone at home again the following week that really tore her up.

"It’s my birthday next week."

"Oh."

She wiped her tears and looked down at her fingers, too upset to look at her dad but too prideful to continue to cry in front of him. Things were so different now, and she hated it. More than anything, Y/n wanted things to be how they were before when there were four of them and not just two.

"Mom used to make my favourite for dinner and bake my favourite cake and we’d all eat together. But you’re never home and mom and Sara are…" Y/n couldn't bring herself to say it aloud, knowing if she did the waterworks would return. She sighed, leaning her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. "I’m just so sick of being alone."

Hopper was quiet. His grip on the steering wheel loosened. Suddenly, he felt like the biggest jerk for scolding Y/n instead of realising she was hurting. He hoped it was not too late to make things right.

"Let’s do dinner."

Y/n glance at him for a second and then let out a scoff. She had heard enough empty promises from him to know better than to trust anything that came out of his mouth.

"I’m serious, bug," he added, knowing what that scoff meant. "I’ll get off early and pick you up from work and we’ll have dinner together here. Just like we used to."

Y/n studied him closely, unsure what to make of his proposal.

"You promise?"

"I promise, bug." Hopper didn't miss a beat. "I’ll make it happen."

Y/n felt her worries ease.

"Ok. But I’ll make dinner for us," she insisted, knowing if it was one less thing her dad had to worry about, it was all the more easier for him to follow through. "You just have to pick me up, ok?"

"Ok," Hopper spoke softly, smiling when Y/n closed her eyes and leaned against her window again. It seemed easy enough to do.

***

April 6th, 1986

Joyce’s weird demeanour made Y/n nervous to open the door to her bedroom, but when she did, that feeling vanished instantly. He was half his weight, bald and beard-less, but there was no mistaking it. It was him, and he was standing up from the edge of her bed and smiling at her. Y/n’s eyes watered and she inhaled a shaky breath, her voice a croaky hushed whisper as she spoke in disbelief.

“Dad?”

She closed the door behind her and stepped in cautiously. The last time she saw her dad was through the vision Vecna showed to her. Y/n felt her chest tighten as mind struggled to decipher whether this necessitated her flight or fight response. Before she could make her mind up, Hopper had pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, quickly becoming choked up by it all.

Seeing her again and hugging her again, it made the previous 8 months of hell worth every excruciating second.

Y/n didn’t know whether to scream or burst out crying. It didn’t make sense. For that reason, she couldn’t bring herself to trust it just yet. Pulling away gently, she placed her hands on the side of his face, revelling in the fact that it was him. It was her dad.

“I-I thought you were…” Y/n shook her head, tears rolling down her face. “Is it really you?”

After everything at Starcourt, part of her did humour the idea that maybe her father didn’t die, but she quickly dismissed that trail of thought as a coping mechanism. She knew holding out for a miracle would do her no good.

“I’m right here, bug,” Hopper smiled.

Y/n’s tears were free falling the second he called her bug, something she had accepted no one would ever call her again. She shook her head and hugged her dad tightly, savouring the feeling of his embrace but also revelling in the fact that she didn’t need to. He was not dead.

After they pulled away, the two of them sat on the edge of Y/n’s bed and found themselves crying the laughing then sniffling then doing it all again, all while briefly going over the obvious changes.

Y/n joked about her dad’s hair and he brought up the way she rearranged her room. Y/n asked what happened to him and he muttered something about a prison and Russia and how he would bore her with the finer details later. Y/n’s heart swelled at the reminder that there was a later. That he was no going anywhere. That he was not dead.

“So… you and Steve?”

“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled. That was another reminder that made her heart swell. She had Steve as well as her dad now. They both came back her. “He’s done a lot of growing up, and he’s never left my side.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hopper smiled.

Whatever reservations he once had about the Harrington kid, none of it mattered to him anymore. Y/n confirmation that he stuck by her, that counted for everything to Hopper.

Y/n studied her father closely, her concern growing tenfold as she noticed remnats of cuts and brusises across his face and along his arms. She hated to think about what it took for him to get out of the Russian prison or what the effects would do to him.

“Dad, are you ok? Are you… are you gonna be ok?”

Hopper reached for hand and squeezed it three times.

“Yeah, bug,” he assured her. “I mean… it was rough, obviously, but… I made it home.”

He hoped that was enough to cast her worries at bay, but by her unchanging expression, he knew there was something else bother her.

“Dad, I’m so sorry for what I said,” Y/n wept. It was the one thing she had spent the past few months desperately wanting to tell him. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

At least not in any way that made it ok to say to him, she reconciled.

Hopper squeezed her hand again and shook his head dismissively.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He kissed the top of her head and gave her a reassuring smile which she returned only without the sincerity. Something about his response did not sit right with her. While Y/n couldn't quite put her finger on it, she knew part of it was her hope that in being the first to say sorry, he would finally come around to saying it back.

Before more could be said, the sound of another vehicle pulling into the driveway travelled through Y/n’s open window. Hopper’s eyes lit up.

“I think that’s El and the others.”

He shifted to stand up, but Y/n kept him from doing so.

“Stay here, dad. I’ll get her for you.”

Part of her wanted a break from talking to Hopper, while the other desperately wanted for El to have her own time with their dad. Y/n knew that if seeing her dad alive and well made her heart swell the way it did, El’s reaction would only be bigger.

The van they drove in on was what Y/n recognised as Argyle’s ride. She barely made it off the front porch before being enguled by the all too familiar embrace of her littler sister.

“Y/n!” El was beaming, unable to keep stil as she hugged her big sister firmly. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you so much,” Y/n replied, running her hand over El’s shaven head and the squeezing her tightly. Nothing compared to the real deal.

“I’m so happy you’re ok,” El exclaimed after pulling apart from Y/n.

She hoped her sister had made it out ok, but there was no way of knowing for sure until they made it home. The entire drive to Hawkins, El’s stomach was in knots as she kept remembering the sight of Y/n laying unconscious in Steve’s arms.

“Yeah, I owe you one.” Thought parts of that night were still hazy to Y/n, she remembered El saving her clearly and vividly. “… I owe you a massive one.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” El replied instantly.

It was nothing Y/n wouldn’t have done for her had the roles been reversed. It was a nice change saving her for once when, for the last few years of El’s life, Y/n had been saving her.

“I have so much to tell you.”

“Me too,” Y/n smiled inconspicuously. “But first, you need to go to my room.”

“What?”

Her confusion made Y/n chuckle. Suddenly, Joyce’s demeanour earlier made a lot of sense.

“Just… trust me,” Y/n grinned, gently pushing El up the front porch steps. “We’ll catch up after.”

“Promise?” The younger girl turned around and held her pinky up. Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and looped her pinky with El’s, prompting her to turn back around and follow her sister’s instructions.

Watching El walk into the room where Hopper waited with illuminated eyes, a familiar knot began to form in Y/n’s stomach and she hated it fiercely.

***

April 9th, 1986

There was never a conversation about all the changes that would be made to the living arrangements at the cabin. When Steve, the Wheelers and Dustin went home, the Byers stayed and set up camp in the living room.

Y/n didn’t mind, at least not at first. However, the more Hopper, El and the Byers began to settle in, the more she found herself becoming irritated at the little disruptions it made to her usual routine.

She didn’t like having to constantly remind her dad she kept the mugs in a different cabinet now. She didn’t like waking up to a messy kitchen because Will and El raided the fridge at midnight. She didn’t like having to wait for the bathroom to be vacant to have a shower, only to realise her favourite shampoo was already empty because everyone assumed it was free for all.

Y/n hated feeling so annoyed by the people she cared so much for so, as much as the little disruptions irritated her, she tried her very best not to let her feelings surface. She told herself she just needed time to adjust and that, as overwhelming as the change could be, a full house was better than an empty one.

After a few days of much needed rest and settling in, Hopper announced to everyone that it was time to clean and declutter the cabin to make more room. Y/n reluctantly went along with it, even though watching Joyce and her boys move her stuff around the house made her skin crawl.

"Oh, hey Joyce, you cant throw that away," Y/n said hurriedly, recognising the box she was carrying outside to the 'trash' pile. Joyce stopped in her tracks, and sheepishly walked back in.

"Oh, I’m sorry. Hopper said he looked through and it was just old documents."

Y/n winced. Perhaps if her dad had spent less time reorganising her life and more time listening to her, they would be on the same page. Perhaps it wasn't fair of her to feel so irritated by Joyce and the boys when her annoyance should have been aimed at Hopper.

"Yeah, it is," Y/n began, softening her expression, "- but it’s also records of when the cabin came under my name."

It was sure to be important when it became time to sort through the nightmare of legal paperwork her dad's return from the dead caused.

"Oh, ok," Joyce nodded. "You want me to put it in your room for you?"

"Yes please."

The older woman obliged without another word, which Y/n appreciated more than she could say. It was nice to feel heard, especially after feeling like she was on the outside looking in for the past few days.

After a couple hours of decluttering and cleaning the living room with El, Y/n went to her room for a much needed break. By the time she mustered enough will to go back outside, she saw Joyce and El going through her box of all the polaroids and photographs Y/n came across when she cleaned the cabin 8 months ago.

“You guys found the old photos," Y/n beamed, picking up one of the pictures from the pile and grinning. It was of her and Sara.

“I was telling El it might be nice to put some up, make the cabin a little homier," Joyce suggested, smiling nervously. "Would you be ok with that, Y/n?”

She drew in a deep breath and smiled.

“Yeah, that sounds nice."

More than nice, Y/n thought to herself. She wondered if that was what made her so irritated about the Byers moving in: the lingering fear that the more Joyce and her sons settled into the cabin, the less space there would be for any memory of her mom and Sara.

This was a nice way of ensuring that didn't happen.

Joyce's eyes lit up when she pulled out another photograph. From the writing on the back, Y/n knew it was a photo Jonathan took of her, Steve and the kids after high school graduation.

“Oh my god, Hopper look at this one," Joyce beamed.

He stopped what he was doing in the kitchen and come to have a look. Joyce handed him the photo and he drew his brows together, smiling nervously as she glanced between the photo in his hand and the others in the box. Aside from the pictures with Sara and his wife, the rest were new to him.

“How come I’ve never seen these photos?”

Y/n didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or scream.

“You weren’t there," she muttered harshly. "I didn’t see a point in showing them to you.”

Hopper's demeanour turned sheepish almost immediately. Between Y/n's cold expression and Joyce's widened eyes, he found himself flustered and in desperate search for an exit.

“I’ll move them into your room.”

He didn't wait for her to say anything before putting the photos back into the box, then lifting it and taking it away, with it any chance of him letting her and Joyce put the photos up around the house.

Y/n's blood boiled watching him scurry, and then it dawned on her, surely and swiftly. The reason her stomach was in constant knots for the past few days had nothing to do with the Byers and everything to do with her dad, and the fact that just as he was not dead, so too were his old ways.

***

April 10th, 1986

Y/n lifted the glass of water in front of her and held it out, fully extending her arm. Nurse Jackson studied her closely, looking for any sign of discomfort, just as she did every time Y/n came in for her routine check up for her injuries.

“Any pain?” Nurse asked, to which Y/n promptly shook her head. “Good. I’ll get you some extra bandages just in case, but I think you should be in the clear now.”

The nurse wheeled her desk chair to the medical supply shelf behind her and came back with a handful of bandages for Y/n. She turned back to her and sighed. The young girl stared blankly at her shoes and nervously tugged at the hem of her t-shirt, not noticing nurse Jackson inquisitive eye.

“Is there anything else that’s been bothering you?”

The older woman's voice appeared to jolt the younger one back to reality. Her head shot up and without a moment of thought, she shook her head. Nurse Jackson narrowed her eyes.

“Y/n.”

The young woman sighed shakily, turning her attention to restless fingers. After a brief moment of silence, she cleared her throat and spoke quietly.

“I’ve actually been having a lot of trouble sleeping… for a while, but especially this past week," she began. “I wake up either in cold sweats or hyperventilating or both. Sometimes its like... I-I feel like I'm going crazy.”

Y/n half expected a look of concern from Nurse Jackson, but the older inched closer and gripped her hands, grounding her worries if only for a second.

“Honey, our town just had a record-breaking earthquake and your dad is back after being presumed dead for nearly a year…”

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut. She had heard that spiel a million times, to the point where it had lost most of its consolation. Nurse Jackson continued.

“Frankly, I’d be concerned if you were getting a good night’s rest.”

“I know," Y/n answered shortly, her patience growing thin. She shook her frustratedly. "I just… I’m sick of feeling like this. All I want is to move forward from all this. How do I do that?”

She wanted a quick fix. She wanted Nurse Jackson to have all the answers, write her a prescription for something and for that something to make her normal again. To make her feel like she had some semblance of control over her life despite the past year proving otherwise.

“There are a lot of ways of moving forward, and the best route is going to be different for everyone." Nurse Jackson tried to give a comforting answer, but knowing Y/n, she knew it would be met less than kindly. "- But the main thing is that you don’t do it alone.”

“I’m not alone," Y/n quipped defensively.

Nurse Jackson pursed her lips.

“The other main thing is that you let yourself process everything that’s happened."

Y/n let out a defeated huff. The past few weeks felt like a juggling act, with each day seemingly burdening her with one more thing to deal with. Now on top of it all, she had to find the time and the energy to reflect on everything that happened to her.

“I’m processing everything as best I can."

The older woman knew that, for the most part, she was telling the truth. But Nurse Jackson could also spot an avoidant patient from a mile away. This one, in particular, was a patient she had grown incredibly fond of.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Y/n.”

Her words caught the young girl by surprise. She didn't know whether to be apologetic, offended or defensive.

“All I’m saying is…" Nurse Jackson pursed her lips once more and drew in a deep breath as she tried to find the right words. "-As long as you keep burying your feelings and putting on a brave face, you’re never gonna move forward.”

Y/n hung her head, bashful that in the little time they knew each other, Nurse Jackson saw her so clearly, which was more than she could say for many of the people who knew her for much longer.

"You know, I think Ms Kelley is still offering free sessions." Nurse Jackson's voice was quiet and cautious. The last time she brought up the sessions to Y/n, she just about cursed her for suggesting it and stormed out of the room. "If you ever want to take her up on it, you just let me know and I'll sort that out for you."

The young girl didn't give her a definitive answer. She merely nodded her head and left quietly, discreetly wiping her teary eyes once her back was turned. However, Nurse Jackson was confident Y/n would take her up on her offer soon.

***

April 16th, 1986

Y/n's night was the same as it had been for what felt like an eternity. She woke up gasping for air, completely overcome by fear of impending danger despite being safe, sitting among Steve and the kids who were all passed out from movie night. She clung her fist to her chest and tried to steady and quiet her breathing.

Not wanting to wake anyone, she shifted Steve's comforter off her legs and left him sleeping on the ground by himself so she could sneak into the kitchen. She tried to shift her attention away from her frustrations, but as tears began to form in her eyes, it was hard to focus on the pot of coffee she was trying to make. Defeated, she dropped pot down abruptly on the counter and held her head in her hands.

"Still can’t sleep, huh?"

Steve's arms wrapped around her, his hands turning her around until she faced him. Y/n shook her head and dropped her hands, revealing her teary tired eyes to the only person she trusted enough to see them. Steve kissed her temple, just as he did the countless times he stayed awake with her.

He looked past her shoulder and spotted the coffee pot and grounds, and smiled playfully.

"Call me crazy, but I think having coffee in the middle of the night might not be helping."

Y/n rolled her eyes, nudging him gently.

"You don’t have any cocoa."

Steve chuckled, before pulling away and turning back to the pantry which Y/n had searched every inch of, for almost half an hour. He crouched down and moved a stack of canned soup to reveal a tin of cocoa. Y/n smirked weakly, her brow quipped.

“You’re hiding your cocoa now?”

“Just when the kids are here,” he explained sheepishly.

After the boys, under Dustin's leadership, got hot chocolate everywhere and gave themselves a sugar rush, Steve decided cocoa was not something he could leave unattended during movie nights.

Y/n sat at the kitchen table, mindlessly tapping her fingers against the surface as she waited for Steve to finish making their hot chocolates. Once he returned, he placed his hand atop hers to cease the tapping.

“What’s on your mind?”

She sighed. So much, that was the simple answer. There was so much on her mind, too much to unpack over one mug of hot chocolate.

“It’s weird seeing my dad again,” Y/n began. “- Having him around again.”

He nodded silently, sipping taking a sip from his mug.

“Everything is supposed to just be ok now because we all made it out alive, and I want things to be ok, but… it just doesn’t feel right. It doesnt feel fair.”

It should have been enough for her. She wanted it to be enough for her that everyone was ok and everyone was back home, but no amount of pretending made it so.

“It feels like I’m supposed to just forgive him? I’m supposed to just move on?… without even an apology?”

Steve’s brows rose and then knitted together.

“No one’s expecting you to do that, Y/n.”

She knew he was trying to comfort her, but she could name one person that was. She sighed and opted to squeeze Steve’s hand since he was keeping her from tapping.

“He asked me to go back home tomorrow night for dinner,” Y/n mumbled, unsure how she felt about the proposition.

She had been actively avoiding him and though it took him nearly week, it seemed Hopper was finally catching on. At least, that’s what Y/n told herself when he pulled her aside the last time she helped out at the shelter.

Steve squeezed her hand once, offering a small smile.

“That’s a good sign, right? Maybe he’s ready to talk.”

Y/n stared blankly at her mug.

“Maybe,” she huffed, though deep down she still was not sure.

***

April 17th, 1986

Dinner at home was not what Y/n expected. For one, it was only her, her dad and Joyce. While Jonathan was with Nancy, El and Will had plans with the rest of the kids. Walking in to a table set for only three left Y/n feeling uneasy, and yet hopeful that maybe her dad wanted time with her.

However, this hope dwindled as the night went on, because all they talked about over Joyce’s spaghetti was getting the cabin back in order. Y/n could hardly make sense of it, that was until her dad brought up meeting with an attorney before sliding a pen and a document across the table to her.

“What’s this?”

Startled, Y/n turned the document over and skimmed through it. While it was saturated with a lot of legal jargon she was unfamiliar with, she saw the words “title” and “transfer” then put two and two together. A red sticker flagged the place where she was to sign her name. She noticed that her dad had already signed his.

“Oh.”

Her face fell the very instant she pieced it together. A familiar knot began to form in her stomach. Hopper looked at her concernedly. When she met his gaze, she felt almost nothing.

“Bug, are you ok?”

Y/n wanted to laugh.

“You’re… so fucking priceless, dad.”

Hopper drew his brows together, taken aback at his daughter’s change in demeanour.

“What?”

“This is why you asked me to come home?”

She gestured towards the documents. There she was hoping that dinner at home meant finally having a proper conversation with her dad, when all it was was a ploy so he could get what he wanted. Hopper scrambled for a coherent response, words to keep things from escalating, but his mouth ran dry.

“When did you organise all this?” Y/n questioned, her cold glare going back and forth between the document and her dad. He sighed and ran his hand over his mouth.

“A week ago,” Hopper admitted sheepishly. As he suspected that escalated the tension in the room. “I sent the deed to the cabin to an attorney’s office.”

Y/n laughed coldly, remembering all too well the day he came close to throwing that very deed away. She felt a painful sense of clarity wash over her. This had little to do with the cabin and everything to do with controlling everything, Y/n felt certain of it.

“Of course,” she spat. “I should have fucking known.”

Hopper frowned, feeling an all too familiar sense of guilt settle in his stomach. He suspected that she might have some reservations about giving up ownership, but never expected this.

“I can understand if you’re upset.”

“Oh cut the bullshit, dad.”

He slammed his fist against the dinner table, prompting Joyce to come sprinting in from the kitchen.

“You don’t need to talk to me like that,” Hopper fired back.

“No, you know what? I will talk to you this. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You sure about that?”

Y/n did not take notice of the fact that they were both standing, leaning over the table, glaring at each other with the exact same expression. Nor did she take notice of Joyce, who stood at the end of the table, at a loss for how to de-escalate the situation, and if de-escalation was even possible.

“Y/n, maybe-“

Before the woman could finish speaking, Y/n kissed her teeth and shook her head, her tempermant getting the better of her.

“Joyce, this is between me and my dad.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.”

His words came with no delay, no hesitation, Joyce could see the way that upset Y/n.

“It’s ok,” the older woman told Hopper, before turning to his daughter and shaking her head reassuring. “It’s ok.”

Joyce excused herself and went to hers and Hopper’s shared bedroom. It was not until she closed the door shut that the argument resumed.

“What’s gotten into you?” Hopper asked, dumbfounded.

“You!” Y/n shouted, frustrated that she had to spell it out. “It’s bad enough you’re being accommodating to everyone but me, but you’re forcing your way back into everything on your terms and I’m really fucking sick of it.”

“Oh you’re sick of it?”

“Yes, because this is you! This is who you are! This is who you’ve always been and I feel like an idiot for expecting anything to be different with you.”

How could it be, she realised. While she was hoping her dad had changed for the better, he was hoping she remained the same. It was no wonder he was so nonchalant about everything, from moving in the Byers to stripping her of ownership of the cabin.

“Maybe a couple years ago, I would have let it all slide without kicking up a fuss, but I’m not doing that anymore,” Y/n argued.

She needed him to understand that while it was clear he wanted things back to how they were, she was far from the girl she was a year ago, and for a good reason.

“I can’t go back to doing that, dad. And it’s really shitty that you’re expecting me to.”

Hopper sighed, relieved that they were talking as opposed to yelling, but gutted all the same by what he was being accused of. He shook his head.

“I’m not expecting you to do anything, bug.”

“Yeah, you are,” Y/n argued. “You want me to be ok with you changing everything without a heads up. First you rearrange everything, then you move a whole family in, now this… You want me put up with everything, like I always did, but I’m not going to do that.”

She could not do that to herself again. Not after reliving it with Vecna. Y/n desperately wanted better for herself, and she wanted him to understand that and to want the same.

“I had no idea owning the cabin meant this much-“

“Oh my god, this isn’t just about the cabin!” Y/n shouted, frustrated that he was taking everything at surface level when there was much more to it.

Hopper winced, baffled as to how everything he says always ends up being the wrong thing.

“It’s about you and me, dad. All of it is about you and me and the fact that… you just don’t care about anything that’s important to me.”

“That’s not true,” Hopper argued, certain that while there was a lot he did not know about Y/n, especially after a year apart, he still knew the things that mattered most. She, on the other hand, was not so sure.

“You don’t even know what’s important to me.”

Hopper scrunche his brows together, offended that she thought so little of him. He knew her, he told himself. He had to.

“Looking after the people you care about,” he began, “protecting El and the kids… that’s important to you.”

Y/n scoffed and shook her head, leaving her dad to wonder how that was the wrong thing to say.

“Not the obvious stuff, or the stuff that we both care about.”

Those were a given, Y/n deemed. Those required no real effort on his end, which only proved her point further. Frustrated and partly defeated, Hopper tossed his hands up in the air.

“Then what are you getting at, bug?”

She swallowed thickly, but the lump in her throat persisted. It mattered less to Y/n that her dad did not understand her, and moreso that he never seemed to try to.

“Dad you were gone for almost a year. And El was gone and Steve and I weren’t together,” Y/n wept. “This cabin and everything I kept inside here… it was all I had for the last 8 months. It was all I had when you were still shitfaced drunk and were barely home. And you just come back and take it all away like its nothing.”

Hopper huffed, his gaze dropping down to the floorboards, too ashamed to look her in the eye. When he finally did look up, she wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands, sniffling quietly.

“Bug… I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t,” she scoffed.

He never asked her. He never really spoke to her. For all she knew, he never even thought of her or what she went through. How could he expect to know anything about how she was feeling?

Y/n caught a glimpse of herself in her reflection in the window, and a sense of fatigue began to linger.

“Look, I get that you’re ok and you’re fine and you’re past it all, but I’m not. I’m still stuck in the middle of it. I’m still hurting.”

“Is that what you think?” Hopper questioned, bewildered. “You think I’m ok? You think I’m past everything?”

“What else am I supposed to think when you’re too busy playing happy family with your girlfriend to consider my feelings in all of this?”

“Y/n, c’mon,” Hopper pleaded. “That’s not fair.”

She shook her head. Who was he to talk to her about unfair?

“If it wasn’t your addiction, it was El Now, if it’s not El, it’s Joyce and every other person in Hawkins. You’re always so preoccupied with everything and everyone else and I’m always just an afterthought. I’m not an idiot, dad, I can read between the lines.”

Hopper knew, now, what she was getting at, and he hated it. He resented the accusation he knew she was about to make.

“Bug-“

“I know when I’m not wanted.”

There it was. Hopper shook his head and went to reach for his daughter’s arm.

“Y/n, stop it.”

“I can’t!” Her voice snapped before she reached the end of her sentence, sending the worst kind of chills down Hopper’s spine. She shook her arm out of his grasp and moved away. “This has literally haunted me for years. It’s haunted me. You’ve haunted me.”

Long before Vecna got the chance to.

Hopper felt his lips tremble. His mouth opened as if to speak, but no words could form.

His blank expression only pained Y/n more.

“I mean, honestly… Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me? Any recollection at all?”

She looked at him pleadingly, hoping for something. For any kind of confirmation that he knew all the things he had done. If he knew, she could have hope of him having remorse, of him apologizing and him making amends. But, if he didn’t, Y/n couldn’t see how having any hope would be possible.

Hopper blinked, still at a loss for words. He remembered some arguments, but the rest were a blur, and he knew no memory he could muster up would be one that Y/n was referencing.

She knew, at this point, she was grasping at straws, but Y/n couldn’t help herself. She needed to know.

“Do you remember my 16th birthday?”

Hopper said and did nothing.

A sob escaped Y/n’s lips. Alone, again; that was how she felt. That was a night so painful and so deeply etched into her memory because of him, but he could not recall any part of it. Hopper stumbled forward, terrified of what Y/n’s sobs meant and where their conversation was headed.

“Bug, please, I don’t wanna fight with you. I don’t wanna go back to doing that,” he started, his voice shaky, alongside his hands. “But, believe me, I also don’t want to pretend like things are ok. I want it to actually be ok. I wanna fix things, I wanna make things right with you.”

He should have done that first. He should have said that first, before anything else. Hopper hated himself for taking so long to realise that. He placed his hands on the side of his daughter’s shoulder, only to be met with silence.

Y/n had a blank expression, one which Hopper still studied profusely, hoping for some indication that things would be ok. She felt defeated. She felt fatigued. This was an argument she felt like she had had with her dad a million times before, and they all ended the same. Maybe it was finally time they cut their losses.

“And what if you can’t?”

Hopper flinched.

“Don’t say that.”

She couldn’t possibly think that, Hopper told himself. After everything that kept them apart, he could not accept that an argument would be the thing to sever their relationship. Y/n sighed.

“If the last 8 months couldn’t fix things between us, what are the chances that anything will?” She had no more tears. That was the part that terrified Hopper the most. That, and the fact that she was refusing to look him in the eye. “And… after everything that’s happened, I’m just… I’m so tired, Dad.”

“I know,” Hopper whispered.

Y/n finally looked at him, but nothing in her expression changed.

“No. You don’t.”

She knew that now, better than she ever had before. He could never know what she went through. He could never understand her now. And, for as long as that remained true, they would never truly see eye-to-eye on anything.

Y/n pushed past her dad and approached the dinner table. Hopper turned around and watched, puzzled by what she was doing until he saw her pick up the pen and sign the document.

If that was what he wanted from her, it would be the last thing she would ever give him, Y/n decided. He would have the cabin, but only she would have all the memories made in it. Time would move on, just as he so deperately wants, but she would always remain stuck reliving the pain on her own.

After signing the document, Y/n silently grabbed her jacket and headed towards the front door. Hopper stepped forward.

“Y/n-“

“Don’t,” she warned, turning around and facing him before he could get any closer to her. “I really don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

Y/n slammed the front door behind her as she left. The sound exhoed in Hopper’s head as he struggle to come to grips with everything. He saw so much of himself in her when they argued, but when she walked away from him, he saw so much of her mother. He had done it, he realised. He lost another one of his girls.

***

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@littlepadfootmoony @geeksareunique @agustdeeyaa @babygirlwilly @rqmanoff @midnightsgetawaycar @starkleila @shireentapestry @badasspizzalover

[j-onedrabbles]

𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 (𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆) 𝒑𝒕 2

✧   PAIRING: SKZ X READER ✧   CW: BSF!SKZ, GN!READER, MENTION BREAKDOWNS, CHAN CALLS READER PRETTY, FOOD/EATING, CRYING, BSF TO LOVERS, CUDDLING ✧   WC: 2.3K TOTAL ✧   NOTE: ✧ HYUNG LINE PT 1|MAKNAE LINE PY 1 ✧ HYUNG LINE| MAKNAE LINE

❥bang chan

Two thirty in the morning. It took Chan less than ten minutes to get to (Y/n)’s apartment. He knocked on their door and waited a few minutes before he heard it unlock. He first noticed the baggy sweatpants and hoodie they had on. Then he saw the red puffy eyes.

     “Come here,” he said as he opened his arms to them 

     (Y/n) wrapped their arms around him tightly without a second thought. One in-the-morning breakdown were typically the worst ones. It was the silence that surrounded them that made you just start to overthink. Overthink everything and that turned into tears.

     Chan wrapped his arms around them and rubbed their back slowly as the two stood in silence for a few more moments. “Come on, I promised you ice cream.”

     (Y/n) nodded and turned back inside, and slipped their shoes on. Quickly grabbing their house keys before stepping out of the unit. (Y/n) locked their small home up before the two headed down to the street. Chan kept his arm around their shoulder and (Y/n) sniffled next to him. 

     The two made it down to the twenty-four-hour store near their place and headed straight for the freezers. (Y/n) opened the door and grabbed a tub of their favorite and turned to Chan to signal him to grab his own. The producer quickly grabbed one before they let the freezer door close. 

     “Do you want anything else while we’re here?” Chan asked as they slowly made their way up to the cashier

     (Y/n) shook their head silently. The two got up to the night clerk and Chan quickly paid for the frozen dessert. He thanked the clerk and grabbed the bag. He wrapped his free arm around his friend again as they exited the store. The quick walk back to the apartment was silent as (Y/n) stared at their feet. Chan simply rubbed their shoulder as he kept them close to his side so they didn’t get hurt while not looking ahead, and to keep them warm.

     Once they got back to the building and made their way to the unit. Once they got inside, Chan grabbed a couple of spoons from their kitchen while (Y/n) sat on the couch. Chan sat with them as the two ate in small silence. Chan had turned on their tv and turned on their favorite movie, keeping it at a low volume.

     “Thank you,” (Y/n) spoke

     “You don’t need to thank me.”

     “Do you think I’m unlovable?” (Y/n) blurted out and took a bit of ice cream

     “Not at all (Y/n). I think people just don’t see how great you are.”

     “I’m not really that great, let’s be honest here Chan.”

     “Okay,” Chan set his ice cream down on their coffee table and then grabbed theirs and set it next to his.

     “Hey!” (Y/n) complained

     “You are one of the best people I have ever met,” Chan started as he turned his body toward them. “You deserve every happy thing that has and will happen to you. I want to see you be happy and I will do everything I can to see you smile. Even just a little. I’m here for you, always.”

     “I feel like you’re about to confess you’re love to me.”

     “No, not after you’ve had a half-hour breakdown,” Chan stated

     “That means you’re in love with me” (Y/n) joked

     They had missed the tips of his ears turning red. “It’s late. I’ll clean up, you go to bed.”      “Can you spend the night?” (Y/n) asked, a little scared they’d have another breakdown as soon as the silence hit them again

     “You need cuddles now?” Chan smirked as he got up to clean up the ice cream and put the leftover in the freezer

     “I would never reject your cuddling.”

     “And I would never reject giving them to you. Come on.”

     The two headed to bed wrapped in each other’s arms. Even when the morning hit, they stayed wrapped up. Right under the warm covers of the bed. Chan woke up a few minutes before (Y/n) and just laid there, smiling at how cute they looked sound asleep; practically curled up on his chest like a baby kitten. 

     (Y/n) finally woke up after a few minutes and unwillingly glared at him, “Why are you staring?” they asked as they rubbed the sleepiness from their eyes.

     “You're pretty,” he smiled down at them

     “Shut up,” (Y/n) slapped his chest as they sat up in bed

     Chan followed and wrapped his arms around their waist and rested his head in the crook of their neck. “I like you, a lot.” he finally said

     “No shit, we’re best friends.”

     “I meant romantically.”

     (Y/n) froze up a bit before turning to him slightly, “You mean it?”

     “With my whole heart,” Chan looked up at them. “I’d like to take you out on a real date that doesn’t include me coming over when you’re crying and getting you ice cream”

     “You’re not joking?”

     “Not one bit. What do you say?”

     “I say yes.”

     Both of them smiled like idiots at each other as Chan kissed their shoulder and cheek. Maybe it was finally (Y/n)’s turn to get that happiness everyone around her seemed to have at the moment.

❥lee know

     Minho showed up a lot sooner than (Y/n) thought. And he was gonna knock up until (Y/n) answered the door. He smiled at his friend as the door opened. 

     “You look worse than I thought,” Minho stated as he held up a plastic bag of food containers, “But I brought comfort food.”

     “That’s you’re only saving grace right now Lee Minho.” (Y/n) stepped aside and let their friend in

     Minho gave them some time to enjoy the food he had brought them before he interrogated them. 

     “So?” he finally questioned as they sat cuddled up on the couch with a movie playing on the screen. 

     “So what?” (Y/n) replied

     “Why were you crying over your friend going out on a date?”

     “Because I'm exhausted of everyone finding love except me.”

     “Well, you tend to have terrible taste in partners.”

     “You’re not helping.”

     “Sorry. Continue.”

     “It just… It makes me feel like I'm unlovable. Like, why can every single one of my friends get happy relationships while I can't? I'm just here. Like, I'm happy for them but at the same time, I want that happiness too.” (Y/n) rambled on

     Minho quietly listened whilst they messed with his hoodie strings. “I don't think you're unlovable.”

     “Then why haven't I had a good relationship in years while all my other friends are talking about marriage and kids?”

     “Because you don't need someone to make you feel complete. You know you can take care of yourself. But yeah, sometimes we all want someone to cuddle and kiss at the end of the day.”

     “Well, you got the cuddle part. Just need someone for the kiss.”

     “I can do both if you want.”

     “What?” (Y/n)’s head shot up from his shoulder. They stared at him, trying to find a hint of joking in his face. But he seemed pretty serious. 

     “What?” he asked

     “Did you just indirectly admit you wanna kiss me?”

     “Maybe.” Minho smirked, “Only if you want to.”

     “You're joking.”

     “Not this time.”

     “Minho…”

     “Test run. See how we like it.”

     (Y/n) thought for a moment. Minho saw the hesitation and took one of their hands. He gently kissed their knuckles. “We don’t have to. Just know I’m always gonna be with you.”

     “What if we don't work?”

     “We go back to being best friends though it might take time.” Minho had all the answers tonight. He always did. 

     “Can we try?”

     “Of course.” Minho smiled and pulled them into his chest and kissed the top of their head. (Y/n) smiled in contentment. 

     “We’re going on a proper date tomorrow. You can brag to your friend how great of a boyfriend I am”

     (Y/n) chuckled at his comment while the movie played. The comfort of falling for your best friend was something no one thought was real, just something of fiction but (Y/n) was lucky they got it. Especially with Lee Minho. 

❥changbin

     Changbin sure took his time getting to (Y/n)’s apartment. They had questioned the last message he had sent until there was a knock at their door. The last text had them forgetting about their crying session. 

     (Y/n) trudged over to the door, exhausted from crying, and opened it. Revealing a smiling dwaekki and boxes of food. (Y/n) let him inside and closed the door behind him. 

     Changbin set the food down before silently opening his arms, and inviting his friend in for a hug. (Y/n) started tearing up again as they quickly moved into his arms, wrapping their arms around him. 

     “You're okay. I got you.” Changbin rubbed their back as they began to cry again. After a few moments of standing while comforting his friend, he maneuvered the position a bit so he could pick them up and carry them over to the couch. 

     He sat back with them on top of him while they cried into his chest. Changbin let them get it all out again. He didn't keep track of how long they cried but he would continue to offer his comfort for as long as they needed.

     Once they had calmed down a bit, they sat up and went to thank their friend. Changbin wiped away the tears that stained their face. “Feel better?”

     “Kinda,” (Y/n) shrugged, “just kinda tired.”

     “Are you hungry?” he asked

     “A little.”

     “You put on the movie, I’ll bring the food over.” 

     (Y/n) nodded and got off their friend. Changbin got up and grabbed the food, bringing it over to the coffee table by the couch. (Y/n) put on their favorite movie. The two ate the takeout while they watched the film.

     Once they finished their food, (Y/n) curled up in a blanket and cuddled into the rapper's side. Changbin wrapped his arm around their shoulders and kissed the top of their head. Then they remembered the last text he had sent them. (Y/n) sat up and looked at him. 

     “What?” he asked

     “You said you'd kiss me.”

     “I just kissed your head. Do you want more kisses?”

     “Binnie…”

     “(Y/n).”

     “Do you…” they didn't know how to ask the question without sounding a bit conceited. 

     “You are my best friend, (Y/n), and you always will be. And I don't keep secrets from my best friend. I love you more than a friend but I didn't know how exactly to tell you.” Changbin grabbed their hand and rubbed his thumb over their knuckles. “But I would love a chance to be the one you always come to, wake up to, kiss, everything.”

     (Y/n) was struck. They’d been right and didn't know how to react. They started tearing up again and Bin pulled them in for another hug. Tears of joy this time.

     “You definitely can Binnie,” (Y/n) said between cries

     “I’ll be the best boyfriend for you,” he said and kissed their temple. 

❥hyunjin

     (Y/n) did as Hyunjin said and dressed cozy; just a thick hoodie and sweatpants and waited for him to show up. Mostly fiddling with the hoodie strings. Once they got the text that he was at the door. (Y/n) got up from the couch and shuffled over to the door. Quickly slipping their shoes on before opening the door. 

     Hyunjin smiled softly at them as they came into view. “Come here.”

    (Y/n) quickly shoved their keys into their hoodie pocket. They left the comfort of their home and hugged their friend. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around them and stood there for a few moments. 

     “Thank you,” (Y/n) mumbled

     “You don't need to thank me,” Hyunjin replied

     “No. But I wanted to. You didn't have to come over and take me out.”

     “I wanted to though. I hate seeing you sad and this seemed like the best way to cheer you up.”

     “Just hanging out with you makes me happier.”

     Hyunjin was glad they were still hugging and (Y/n) couldn't see him blush a little. But soon the two locked hands and headed down to the street. They took a nice walk through the City, the sun getting lower in the sky. 

     The dancer brought them to a park near the Han River, the sun getting lower in the sky. It was nice out for the evening, just a bit chilly. The two sat on a bench and looked out over the river. (Y/n) stuck close to their friend and rested their head on his shoulder. 

     Hyunjin smiled as he fiddled with their fingers, finally interlocking their fingers together. 

     “This is probably the best date I've been on,” (Y/n) smiled as they stared at their hands

     “I'm glad. You look better when you smile.”

     “You think, we can have a second date?” (Y/n) asked 

     “Of course.” Hyunjin smiled and lifted their hands to kiss the top of their hand.

     Once the sun set, the two headed back to (Y/n)’s apartment, hands interlocked the whole way there. Even when they got to the door, Hyunjin didn't let go. Rather he pulled them against him and beamed at them. (Y/n) smiled back as they stood in each other's arms. 

     “Hi,” (Y/n) said

     “Hi,” Hyunjin almost giggled before he kissed the tip of their nose

     “Wanna come in and cuddle?”

     “I'd love to.”

      Both went inside, away from the cold air outside, and cuddled up on the couch under blankets with a movie running in the background. Eventually, both fell asleep on the couch. Might regret that choice tomorrow but it was worth it right now. 

M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR

© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[uzurimisery]

the space between two bodies. / satosugu x reader / part 1

Warnings: happy ending, angst, cheating (not really this is explained in part 2), unhealthy relationships/coping mechanisms, suicidal ideation, depression, smut, no sorcery au

A/N: I started thinking about Gojo with anxiety and nihilist Geto and then what that looks like in a poly relationship with someone as flawed as they are

“We’re sorry but we’ve decided to go with another candidate now. We will retain your information on file should a more suitable role open up.” 

The email stared back at you, the words on your phone screen blurring as droplets of rain hit it as you read it over for the hundredth time. Today was just another shitty fucked up day in the endless string of shitty fucked up days that had become your life. The third consecutive month of unemployment in a row. At least previously you could get temp jobs but now each day that passed just ate away at you with how useless you felt. 

Pocketing your phone, you pull out a 100 yen coin and put it in the vending machine.

You didn’t even like your old job but Jesus it was like no one was actually hiring. And when you did get an interview, you’d get ghosted afterward. On the rare occasion they didn’t ghost you, you’d receive a rejection letter like this one. It was preferable, you supposed, that your existence and effort were at least acknowledged, no matter how much it stung. Still hurt like a bitch to be told you weren’t good enough. 

Anything would be better than this, fuck you’d take being overworked and underpaid if it felt like you were doing something. This endless cycle of gnawing uncertainty and applications, interviews, followed by rejections. Worse than that you were out of deodorant and trying to find some in Japan was a Herculean effort. 

Yeah, it’s been a shit go and you’re fucking exhausted.

Maybe you’d go be an English teacher like everyone else who moves to Japan. You wouldn’t need a co-teacher so the pay would be better if you were just starting out. Not that you wanted to teach again dear god that was less than ideal. Thank god you had settled status. The thought of having to deal with visa issues at the same time made you feel sick. 

Maybe you could work at a host club. You turned, staring at your reflection in the glass. Your boobs weren’t half bad as you pushed them up from the underside like a push-up bra would. Or sell feet pictures. The market was probably oversaturated at this point but maybe there would be some interest.

Wait Jesus had your hair looked like that all day? Fuck. No wonder that girl kept staring at you on the train she thought you were a lunatic.

Sighing you press the button for 4H. It wasn’t like you’d always been this way, sort of drifting in a sea of uncertainty abroad your boat of doubt with no wind to guide your sails. There was a period of time, maybe a five-year stretch after you had graduated from university where your life was on track. An entry-level job in your degree field, a long-term boyfriend turned fiance, wedding planning, and a great group of friends. Shit, you had it all. 

The fiance was the first to go. 

As it turns out, finding your fiance in bed with the girl he swore you didn’t have to worry about, his tongue halfway down her throat like he’s trying to do an endoscopy, is a terrible way to find out you’re being cheated on. When he noticed you standing in the doorway he had the gall to sputter some bullshit about how it was your fault it happened. You were too focused on your work, you didn’t give him attention, blah, blah, blah. It was you who broke the relationship up by working so much and being married to your job. And as he paid for the overpriced four-bedroom apartment in an area of Tokyo that you didn’t even like, you lost the apartment in the breakup. 

You couldn’t slum dog millionaire your life away on Shoko and Utahime’s couch forever eating tubs of ice cream and binging TV after that, so everyone told you, or rather forced you, to move in with Suguru and Satoru. Bouncing around from couple to couple. It did give you some stability and just as things go up so must they come down. 

The company you were working for was liquidated after an investigation by the federal government found years of tax fraud. Luckily they got bought out, and you thought maybe if you put in work you could still climb the ladder. But all those late nights in the office, conbini dinners, and unpaid overtime, you were just another name on a severance list.

It felt like waves were crashing over you, each one larger than the rest. Almost like you were tied to a dock during a hurricane, a tsunami, or some fucking natural disaster that threatened to drown you if you didn’t hold onto something but there wasn’t much to hold on to. You could hold onto the minuscule amount of friendships that you had at least. It was far too awkward and messy to keep up with anyone else other than your main four since the rest were so tied to your ex-fiance and his life. Stupid fucking lawyer. 

The four of you were close-ish. Less close since Shoko had gone on rotation at a university on the other side of Tokyo. It meant she and Utahime had moved nearer to it since Utahime was willing to commute. But Suguru and Satoru were still close with you and still dating.  Biting as that felt at times. 

You met Geto first in a shared philosophy lecture. One of those run-of-the-mill ones, but the content that really got the two of you talking was nihilism. It was the seminar groups after class you shared where he really saw you. Stripped away of pretenses and your nerves laid bare. Not just another face in a lecture hall but something more, something human. The deep indents of nails in your palms and the rubbing of your hands together under the table. He had seen right through you, recognized the darker parts of himself in you- it made you feel understood.

The machine made a mechanical noise and the lights flickered. Sighing you kick the machine lightly to see if anything happens, if life could give you this one thing today that you so desperately needed. Just like everything else, nothing goes your way and your stupid drink stays logged on the shelf. So like every reasonable person you kick the machine again. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit machine,” you murmur a growing string of profanities under your breath as you repeatedly kick the machine

.

All you wanted was one of those ¥100 coffee drinks that were loaded with caffeine to keep going through your slog of a day was that so hard? Maybe it would be best if you just packed it up and called it quits. Move back home with your parents and be berated daily. Why aren’t you married? Why did you and Kosuke break up? When are they going to get some grandchildren? They aren’t getting any younger you know. Face the cutting shame of fucking up another opportunity, another chance. 

What was the point in trying anymore when you couldn’t even get a stupid drink that you don't honestly even want at this point out of a vending machine so you can go home and masturbate to audio porn before you cry yourself to fucking sleep? 

Suguru’s voice cut through the spiral of thoughts, your name on his lips. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had an interview and you’d be home late?” 

Of course, he’d catch you like this. 

“Hey Sugs,” it came out as a groan as you kicked the machine again, a loud clang following as your drink hit the bottom of the dispenser. Bending down, you grab the can before turning and facing him. “I did.” 

“How’d it go?”

“Like shit.” Maybe you should work on your delivery. This flat effect is really making you should like a bitch. Are you a bitch? 

Geto’s eyes raked over you, infuriatingly calm and measured. He was always so carefully disheveled, the type of person to look effortlessly put together no matter the occasion. Stupid name-brand black sweater over a white button-down half tucked into chinos with a chain on the belt. His hair, shiny and perfect, was neatly tucked into his signature half-up-hald-down look to keep the strand out of his eyes, minus the one for style. Notably, he was wearing his glasses for once, sleek frames perks on a tall nose. Oh, he smelt nice too, his sandalwood and bergamot cologne hitting you as he stepped closer, extending his umbrella to cover the two of you. Fuck he was so handsome it wasn’t fair.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Geto replied softly.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “ It is what it is.”

But the reality of it clung to you and drug you down, down, down into the depths of your psyche. That small, scared feeling you tried so hard to suppress started bubbling up again, twisting your insides into knots. It made you feel sick, so much like a lost little child in a world that had grown far too big and complex. Here it was, rearing its ugly head, in front of one of the top ten people you never wanted to see in such a shit state.

But that's all Gojo and Geto do at this point. They pick up the broken, crumbling pieces of yourself that slip between your fingers. You feel like a cracked vase leaking water all over the place no matter how desperately they try and patch up the ceramic. Each day the gap between you and them grows more apparent. They were both soaring and you were falling to the ground and rolling around in the mud. 

Geto had just done a four-page spread in Architects Digest, even though he was a pretentious motherfucker who hated the magazine. And Gojo… God, he’d just opened for Prada at Paris Fashion Week. They went viral on every social media platform a while back for how hot and gay they were. You’d been caught in the crossfire of your accounts being tagged and gained a social media boost, but that also meant a bunch of people DMing you telling you to take pictures of them. 

The most fucked up thing about it all was the gnawing feeling that chewing on your bones that you were being dragged around like an accessory to remind them how good they had it. A permanent third wheel they’ve been stuck with since university. Two talented lovers on the brink of permanent importance and their weird little friend who follows them along like a lost puppy. It wasn’t even true and that's why it hurt so much. You knew they believed in you, thought that you could be a successful artist, and supported you in it even, but the jealousy rotted inside you like a festering wound. You weren’t even jealous of their success, only just partial, but it was like you weren’t good enough to be around them. 

Maybe you were better off as wall decor in the life they were building together. Something quiet and serene that didn’t demand anything from them. Better that than the bitter, jealous mess you were every time you saw them succeed.

He starts, the same spiel he goes to when you get like this. “You can always-”

“No.” your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you don’t care. 

“I don’t know why you act like it’s such a bad off,” Suguru presses, his calm demeanor only pissing you off more.  

“I don’t want to work for you.” 

“Why not.” 

You snap. “Because I don’t want to, Suguru! Is that so hard to understand?”

Fuck, you wanted to storm off, go back to the house, and slam the door behind you as you went. But it didn’t matter if you stormed off, you lived in one of his guest bedrooms. Both of you were just headed to the same place. Sad little rescue that you were.

Suguru assessed, his eyes softened, breaking you down. He picked out every one of your insecurities as he stared at you. Microscopic inspection, each of your cells was being assessed for your state of being. Have you eaten? Was it enough? Had you slept? Are you even capable of taking care of yourself in this state? 

The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten, and before you could control it, try and reel it back in, tears welled up in your eyes. Blinking them back, you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat bobbing as you did. You hated this. Hated the way his care, his pity, felt like a knife twisting in the last remaining shred of pride you clung to. 

Pity was the killy of pride and you should accept that your pride was already decomposing in the septic tank in the backyard. 

Fuck up, fuck up, fuck up. All you ever were, all you’d ever be. Every loose thread of your shirt feels like it's cutting against your skin. The hem of your trousers drowns your feet like you're wearing your parents' clothes. Shabby. Uncouth. Inept. 

Wordlessly, you turned on your heel and fled, rushing out of the side street as the tears spilled past your lash line. You couldn’t do this anymore--no more questions, no more pity. No matter how hard you tried, how hard you struggled, clawed your way through the fucking dirt, you could never be like them. Never be good like theme, never right like them, never fit like them. They had these perfect little lives that they could boast to everyone about. When they spoke, people listened. People cared what they had to say. The world parted for them, it was the Red Sea and they were Moses, making space. There’d always be room for them to shine. 

But you were screaming into a void, your throat raw, bloody, and you were aching from the endless effort to be seen, to be heard. You wanted to be looked at like your own person, your own successes. Hard to be noticed for something that rarely happened. No matter how loud you screamed, how much you begged, your voice was just lost in the noise. 

You knew Suguru would follow. He always did. Even if you didn’t live in the same house, he’d have followed you. His voice was muffled by the pressure in your ears but you could hear him trying to talk to you. He let you get all the way home and inside the gate of the house before he grabbed your wrist and yanked you backward. 

Trying to pull away, your shoulder wrenched painfully as you trashed in his grip. 

“Calm down,” Suguru spoke firmly, pulling you into his chest. His sweater was soft, and your face smushed against the fabric as sobs wrecked your body, trembling like the earth in an earthquake.

It was hard to speak through the tears, so all you could do was try and slip out of his hold as you sobbed. You didn’t want this comfort. You wanted to run from your failure. From how suffocating life felt and that no matter what you'd never be enough. Worse than that, the sweet sickly feeling that trickled down your throat that when he held your life this, it made the world feel just a little bit more bearable. As if somewhere you could survive another day if he kept touching you. It wasn’t yours to feel and he wasn’t yours to hold. 

Suguru lets you wiggle around. You hit his torso a few times, your strength fading as you cry. When your sobs turned to hiccups and gasps for breaths, he gently cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the tears that still spilled from your eyes. 

“Talk to me,” he said softly, barely above a whisper. The songs of a city nearly eclipsing it. 

What could you say? How could you explain this feeling? This horrible guilt, pain, and jealousy ate away at you every single day. The tears came harder now, speeding up as if to help drown you in your misery and take you out of it for good. Hiccuping you drew breath, sharp and quick, hoping to speak but nothing comes out. Words claw at your throat, digging it with sharpened points. It hurts the way they hang onto you.

“Is it all too much again?” His voice is so soft, warm like fleece pajamas fresh out of the dryer as he holds you so delicately.

This wasn’t the first time that one of the three of you had been so consumed by dread, suffocated by the weight of life itself. Suguru knew it all too well himself, from high school to know he held it tightly in his hands. It never went away from him, he just learned to live with it, let it fade into the background, and let a constant hum of despair serve as the baseline for the day-to-day. 

His thumbs brush over the apex of your cheekbones again and the tenderness shatters you, another wave of sobs tearing through you. They pull you under, out into the open ocean, and through their rip current.

“I just..” you start, it scratches your throat, thick with phlegm. “ I can’t do this anymore.” 

His voice remained steady. “Do what?” 

“Any of it. I can’t do it.” 

“You’re capable of it. You can do it.” 

Jarring, rough, whipping across your skin as the rubber band pulls too tight and snaps. You lash out, and it stings where it hits. The anger cuts through your skin like your fingernails leave crescent moons in your palms. 

“No, I fucking can’t!” It's ripped out of you as you stalk away like a wounded animal. “I can’t okay. I can’t do shit. I can’t keep a relationship without being cheated on. I can’t manage to get my own place. I can’t get a fucking job. I can’t sit here and pretend like I’m not fucking wasting away in my own misery watching you and Gojo and Shoko all succeed and be the only one of us still shooting for the stars and coming crashing down to earth every single fucking time. You and Gojo with your perfect little lives look at me like a charity case to be fixed.”

“We have never looked at you like a charity case.” His tone was firm.

“Really? Then what the fuck do you look at me like, huh?” You press the question circling back around. “Is it pity? Did the two of you see some poor stray that you wanted to take in and keep like a pet when we met at university? Is that it?” 

His eyes were hard, unreadable.

“It is that. You pity me.”

“Jesus, no! We don’t pity you- I don’t pity you! Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?”

“Yes, it is! There’s no reason for you to care,” 

“What the hell wouldn’t I care?” Suguru’s voice raised to a shout, frustration cracking his facade. 

“Because I’m just like everyone you hate!” Your chest heaves as you let out a flood of emotions. “ No ambitions, contributing nothing to society, just leeching off others.” 

“You’re not like them.” 

“I am. On paper, I’m exactly like them. The only reason that you’d keep me around is because it makes you feel good to watch me suffer or you pity me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t pity you?” His voice cracked with emotion, but you didn’t stop.

“Then tell me why you care!” It comes out so desperately. You're begging him for understanding, to know why he stays. To know why he lets you in.

For once he looked uncertain. His mask slipped, revealing the cracks in his facade. It’s been so long since you’ve seen underneath it you’d almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t pretending to be happy. 

“Or is it that you don’t care?” 

Something flashed in his eyes, flickerings of things you only saw when he looked at Gojo. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. There's a fear in his eyes, like if he acts in this moment something may crack and crumble like the foundation of a house that leaves him crumpled in a pile of wood. He doesn’t, or won’t, give you an answer. 

So you turn on your heel, the conversation over in your mind, and head to the front door. You’ll go up and pack a bag before heading across town and crashing on Shoko and Utahime’s couch before calling your parents and groveling to them. 

But as you reach the door, Suguru reaches you. His arm wraps around your waist and he spins you around and pushes your back against it. He’s got you pinned. 

“It’s because I love you.” It’s the faintest breeze that passes from his lips, like a car driving past on a hot day, sweat making your shirt stick to you. “I care because I love you.”

Everything is frozen in a still frame. Neither one of you moves, neither one of you breathes. A still moment that holds you tight, threatens to squeeze you so tightly your heart bursts. 

“What do you mean by that?” You swallow as you speak, like pebbles in your throat. 

Suguru blinks back tears, looking up and then back at you. “That I love you. Fuck! I’m in love with you.” 

Disbelief makes your voice shake. “No, you’re not not. You’re with Satoru.” 

“And? I can’t love both of you?” 

“No, you can’t,” Hypocrisy tastes acrid on your tongue. You know damn well you could never pick between the two of them, that this blighted jealousy you feel towards them is more the fact they have the other rather than their success. It’s something you don’t admit but it’s there. “Besides, you’re lying to me.”

“No.” His response was firm and immediate. The whole time you’d known them, their worlds had revolved around each other. They’d been the only thing for each other for so long. It was an unspoken truth that they were made for each other in a way that could only be sewn by the fabric of the universe itself. Something so profoundly and divinely created it had been written in the fabric of life at the moment of the Big Bang. 

“I’ve seen you watching.” Suguru’s tone is low, cutting, it vibrates through you as he has you pinned. 

A sick, icy dread wraps around your spine. It starts in your toes and crawls up your body. Your muscles lock in place as it climbs up until it's all the way in your head. Paralyzing fear grips you.

“I don't…” The lie is transparent before it comes to fruition. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s brittle, cracking on your teeth as it passes through them.

“Don’t play innocent.” Suguru’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. The tension between you tightens and winds up to pitch, but there's a current that punctuates it. One that feels heady and warm. One that excites you in the same way it embarrasses you. “I’ve seen you watching. I’ve seen you for years. The first time, maybe it was a mistake. But last week? Three weeks before that?”

Your mouth went dry, choking on the excuse that tried to bubble up. Like finely ground chalk powder coasted every surface of it. “I—”

He cuts you off before you can even try to defend yourself. “I know you get off on it too. Leave your curtains open while you touch yourself. Saying his name, my name.”

Horror twists inside you like a knife, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. You’d always been so careful, never acting when you thought they were home. Never want to risk exactly this happening. Your face burned like you drank half a liter of vodka in a go. Maybe you’d wake up and realize this was a nightmare. The humiliation was unbearable. 

“Imagine my surprise,” Suguru continues in a low chuckle, left hand slotting perfectly against your waist, “when I came home early one day and saw that.” 

The tears that had stopped in your flash of anger spill hot and fast down your cheeks. The raw, hot shame and embarrassment muddle you. It makes you want a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You can’t meet his gaze, your vision blurry. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll move out.” you stammer out, the words falling in a chopping spiccato, desperate to create space between the two of you. You’d never be able to face him again. 

“Who said anything about moving out?” Suguru comes, pulling you closer to him till you're flush against his chest. He bends down, breath tickling your ear. You feel the sharp pressure of his teeth grazing the shell of it, a jolt going through your body. “You don’t get to leave now.” Pulling back, he meets your eyes in a half-lidded gaze. 

Both of you are playing the game again. Looking for something unspoken, some cryptic clue you need to decipher. He was searching for discomfort, disgust, anything to make him draw back and stop. You searched for understanding, dissecting how it got to this point. Every moment, every glance, every touch from him that you had ever overlooked. 

He always held a soft glint in his eyes when he looked at you. Something subtle, normally reserved for Satoru. It warmed the edge of his voice when he spoke and crinkled the corners of his eyes when he smiled. There was that softness for Shoko, but it was different. The one he had for you was a more reserved, pulled-back, and dialled-down version of what gripped him when he looked at Satoru. He had always viewed you this way.

The times you sat sandwiched between him and Gojo, your legs brushing against him, his arm slung around your shoulders to reach Satoru. Pulling you against him on the train, in clubs, at parties, the bump of your hips against his own. Compliments when you wore flattering, his pushing Satoru to dress you up. He liked it best when you were in shorter dresses and skirts with tights. 

Suguru had always wanted you, but you had failed to notice. 

Instinct took over before reason could temper it. You pushed off the door, your hands flying to the loose part of his hair at the nape of his neck. The strands feelt just as silky an shiny as they look between your fingers. Without hesitation, the space between you two diminishes. You aren’t sure who closes the distance first, but your lips lock hungry. Teeth knocking against each other as you both desperately cling to the other. It's rough and aggressive, both of you starved animals feasting on flesh. The taste of copper spreading in your mouth as he bit down on your lip making you whine. His breathing becomes your own, heady mix of desire and dark, primal urge..

His tongue pushes against yours, taking advantage of your now open mouth, wet and warm brushing against the back of your teeth, laying claim to your mouth. Geto was dominating in all aspects of his life so it was unsurprising that he set the pace and led you to where he wanted to be. He moved your legs up, patting your ass to jump, to then wrap around his waist as he pressed you against the door. You grind your hips against his growing erection as he holds you there, and you can feel the heat of him even through his pants.

Suguru pulls away panting. His eyes are half closed, lips blushed a beautiful red and damp with saliva. He moves in again, this time to your neck, where he bites down hard. You squirm as he sucks a dark and angry mark, his mark, on your skin. The bite of his teeth against your skin feels right. It eats away at the jealous monster inside you every second he’s latched onto you.

Fed up with the door, Suguru opens it and carries you through the threshold. He moves the two of you through the genkan, toeing off his shoes while you kick your own off, and into the living room where he drops you on the couch. There’s an air about him, so intense it’s nearly oppressive, as his fingers inch up underneath your sweater, sliding it off of you. It’s a predator circling their prey, the success of a hunt now that he’s got you on your back against the soft fabric of the couch. He’d been waiting for this far longer than you thought and it spurs you on.

Suguru moves in tandem with you, tugging off his sweater and button-up shirt, exposing his happy trail. The dark dusting of hair makes your mouth water. Once his shirt is off, his hands cover your chest through your bra, palming your tits like stress balls. It's unpadded and lacey, and it lets him feel as if your nipples get hard. He pushes the cups down, leaving them to rest under your breasts, and pushes them up slightly, accentuated by your being on your back.

His fingertips close around your nipples as he pinches and pulls at them. You knew how much of a sadist he could be. One night you watched him edge Satoru for an hour straight. Seen how hot he looked with Gojo in his mouth as he writhed around. A sweet moan escaped you as he played with your nipples and rolled his hips against yours. It makes your head feel fuzzy, thoughts focusing purely on him. His weight presses down on you, so heavy and right it makes you ache.

You lunge forward, propping yourself up on your elbows to kiss him again. It’s just as messy and hungry as before, years of built-up desire between the two of you saturating your every pore. It settles in your bones that pulses in time with your heart. 

Suguru doesn’t separate from you, but he slides your trousers and underwear off in one go as you kick your socks off. He tugs his own off hastily, boxer briefs following in turn. His public hair is trimmed, a close crop like you’ve seen it before. Like every other aspect of him, it’s neatly maintained, put into its place, and kept there. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he pulls your hips up by his head. Your back is half off the sofa as he places your legs over his shoulders and parts your core with his fingers. He blows cold air onto your clit that makes you squirm before he licks your clit. Moaning, you try to grind yourself against his face but his hands tighten on your hips, holding them firm. You’d get what he wanted to give you. Fight against it and get nothing, or accept it. 

He was slow to start. His tongue lazily explores you, getting familiar with your taste. It pushed against your clit, wide and flat, before swirling his tongue around it. The ball of his tongue piercing rubbed against the most sensitive part of you. Your hips jerk forward and he looks up, a warning in his eyes, but he doesn’t stop. Suguru curls his tongue again, this time moving it side to side, letting his piercing catch on your clit purposefully.  Every action he takes is measured as he picks up speed while latching his lips around it to add delicious suction. Two of his finger slide inside you, reaching far deeper than your own ever could. HE pumps them in and out of you, driving you closer to the edge.

You felt your pussy drooling, liquid gushing out and covering his chin. The muscles in your abdomen tightened with each passing second until you swore they'd cramp. It was all too much as you came, jerking and contracting in on yourself. Black spots dot your vision as your world shakes on this axis. 

Sugru watched as you came, pulling back from your pussy to stare at your face. His eyes never left yours as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He could cover nearly all of you with how big his hands were, warm and calloused. Minus a cold spot on his left hand. 

His engagement ring. 

The silver felt like it burned your skin as he smiled at you and planted a kiss on your inner thigh. It glimmers in the low light, bouncing light off like a homing beacon. Bubbling sickness, bile rising in your throat, disgust palming at your skin. What had you just done? You’ve just violated a boundary so gigantic with Suguru. Let your own selfish need for intimacy lead you to this. He was engaged to your best friend. They were getting married next year.

You rushed to grab your clothes, panic surging through you. The world spins around you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you buttoned up your trousers, throwing your sweater on. Your hair is a mess and your skin feels clammy and flushed. The need to vomit is overwhelming. “This was a mistake.”

Suguru’s rising from the couch, trying to grab you, stopping you from moving but you dodge his hand. “A mistake?” 

Your left hand meets your mouth as you bite the nail of your thumb. It clicks against your front teeth. 

“Satoru won’t mind-” 

“A mistake Suguru,” You shake your head, bending down and grabbing the rest of your stuff. “Please. Just forget this.” Without waiting for his reply, you run up the stairs and slam the door behind you. 

You really are a bitch.

©️ uzuzrimisery

[pablitogavii]

Her babysitter

"Thank you so much for letting her stay with you for a few days Pablo! Promise it won't be longer than a week sweetheart!" your mom said petting your head and you rolled your eyes feeling once again 'dumped' to the side because of some 'important business trip'.

"Yeah right!" you snarled walking away and Pablo looked after you with clenched jaw feeling guilty for noticing the way your perky butt bounces as you stomp away.

"No problem. I have a free week anyways!" Pablo said while escorting them out and walking back to the living room where you already grabbed a tub of ice cream and ate it with a spoon.

"I see you already found my secret tub of ice cream, huh preciosa? Do you mind sharing some with me??" Pablo said looking at you while you licked the spoon feeling his pants tighten. Damn it! He needed to get it out of his head at once but it was no use!

"Mhm.." you said moving towards him and dipping your spoon into the half melted vanilla ice cream before bringing it into his mouth. Pablo was took by surprise but took it nevertheless thinking about how good it tasted especially with a hint of 'you' in it.

"It's really delicious but you shouldn't eat too much and ruin the dinner" he said taking the spoon away with the tub and you rolled your eyes calling him annoying.

"Seriously!? Enough with the eye rolls! Good girls don't behave that way.." he whispered the last part into your ear you felt your skin fill with goosebumps in response. You might hate the fact that your parents constantly dump you places..but when it was at your handsome neighbors house, you don't exactly mind that much.

You always hated how he would act like you're a child just because you're 16 and he turned 19 recently! But now he was calling you a good girl..maybe things changed??

After dinner, you were sipping on some apple juice while he put the dishes in the washing machine. He was usually shirtless around the house and your eyes were enjoying the way his muscles would flex with every movement he made.

Then it came to mind..be his good girl and see the reaction?

"Thank you for the dinner Pablo.." you said shyly and he raised his head up and looked at you with a small smile plastered on his handsome face.

"Of course! Do you want to watch a movie before going to bed??" he asked and you jumped in excitement rushing to pick something while he chuckled walking after you.

"I want to watch this one! It's the newest horror movie that came out!!" you said but Pablo already saw the trailer and thought it was not a very good idea.

"This is not the time for that movie preciosa..maybe something less scary huh?" he said tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear and although you blushed at his gesture, you were not gonna let him keep treating you like a child just because he was your babysitter now!

"Would you stop treating me like I'm fucking four! I want to watch this move and if you're too scared then I'll do it alone in my room!" you spat and Pablo's jaw was clenching. He imagined tossing you over his lap and spanking your little butt for those foul words leaving your sweet mouth but instead he just grabbed the remote and pressed play.

The movie was terrible..so much gore..jump scares..and overall terror. Pablo caught you jumping up a few times and he was smirking in amusement. You were too stubborn to accept it but deep down you knew now that Pablo was absolutely right.

"Alright, that's over..time for bed" he got up while you were still curled up in a blanket on the sofa too scared to move and go down the dark hallway leading to the guest room you started calling your own.

"Everything okay preciosa?" Pablo said waiting for you to admit that you were scared but that never came as you just got up and walked away bravely while he chuckled.

"Goodnight Pablo.." you whisper when he passed you to go to his own room which was across the hallway and he turned around smiling warmly.

"Goodnight preciosa" he said entering his room the same time as you. You laid in the cold dark room for an hour trying desperately to fall asleep but it wouldn't happen. You could hear every little creek and everything scared you making your brain hyper alert on every detail. You wondered if Pablo fell asleep already..?

Knock Knock

"Come in preciosa.." Pablo's groggy voice said and you quickly opened the door not wanting to be alone in that dark hallway for long.

"Um..I..can't sleep Pablo" you say shyly playing with the edge of the big t-shirt you used as your pajamas.

"And why is that huh?" he said with a proud smirk and you felt angry that he was teasing you now so your stubbornness took the best of you as you said that he was mean.

Then just as he was about to answer something fell outside from the strong wind and you screamed rushing to his bed and he collected your small body in his strong arms (gif).

"Shh..shh..it's alright" he said kissing your shoulder and you felt your whole body heating up. Were you really sitting on his lap with his arms around you and his lips left a kiss on your skin!?

"Please don't be mad at me..please don't be mad..but I'm scared from the movie..and I don't want to sleep alone!" you admitted everything not caring if he teases you or not but just wanting to say like this forever.

"Shh..I'm not mad preciosa..just..lay here with me?" he said gulping a little when our eyes met before quickly looking away. I saw him stare at my lips multiple times..but he wouldn't always restrain himself..why was he doing that??

"Um..thank you" you sniffled and he dried your tears but still keeping you on his lap and soon enough you were both kissing each other feverishly like your life depended on being close to each other like this.

"F..fuck! You taste better than I imagined!" Pablo groaned when you pulled away for air and he was holding your hair in the tight grip messing it up completely.

"Hmm..I'm hot Pablo..all over.." you whined blushing hard when you saw him smirk while shamelessly observing your body pulling on your t-shirt until it was on the floor and you were sitting there in your matching pink set.

"I can fix that preciosa..just relax" he said with a low voice before flipping you over and getting on top starting to suck marks all over your sensitive neck. Your mind was sent into oblivion...

He was kissing from my neck to my lips repeatedly while my eyes were closed and I focused on his heavy breathing remembering how many nights I wondered what he would sound like in these situations.

When he started to kiss lower, I became a little self conscious never have done this before so I placed my hand into his hair and called his name softly. He immediately stopped looking up with me with kind eyes.

"Um..nobody..ever touched me like that" you say and he smiled moving up and kissing your lips lovingly again.

"It's okay preciosa..we don't have to do anything tonight if you don't want to okay? I can wait" he said and you blushed feeling nervous but also wanting desperately to have Pablo be the first one to make you feel good.

"Hey..look at me! I'm not mad at you okay..I'm very patient for something I really want..and if I was able to hear you moan my name at night whenever you would stay over for months, I can wait until you feel ready okay?" he said giggling a little while caressing my now completely red face. Did he really hear me moan his name!?

"Um..I'm..I'm ready..just..take it slow" you say and he smiled nodding his head and kissing your lips and then your nose.

"Don't be embarrassed with me preciosa..I think you're perfect" he said and you smiled finally moving your hands from your chest and he slowly took off your matching set kissing down your body.

"We won't go all the way tonight..we will prepare you for that slowly but I will make you feel good okay?" he said inches away from your swollen clit and you moaned nodding your head in agreement.

When his lips finally attached to your heated core, your head was thrown back and you started seeing stars on the celling of his bedroom. He was lapping at your core like a starved animal pinning your hips down whenever you would try to instinctively move away.

"Mm que deliciosa.." he groaned ending vibrations all over your body before continuing to suck intensively on your core and you arched your back feeling heat collect in the pit of your stomach.

"Uh..uh" you whined and he looked up at you to make sure you're okay before continuing to do his work diligently smirking when he felt your juices spilling out of your hole as he licked your clean.

"Good girl! Give it all to me baby.." he spoke and that was enough to send you over the edge as your thighs shook as your hand gripped his hair out of instinct.

"Awe look at you shaking preciosa..shh..shh..so sensitive and perfect" Pablo kissed your thighs moving up and laying beside you quickly pulling you on top of him for cuddles.

"If you want me to go?" you said after a few seconds unsure of what he was thinking. Meanwhile Pablo was in awe at how lucky he was that you were finally in his arms.

"You're not going anywhere!"Pablo said and you blushed nodding your head and nuzzling your nose into his neck.

The next morning, you woke up first smiling at how tightly Pablo was holding onto you while gently touching his sleeping face. After a few seconds, you placed a finger on his lips and he woke up playfully biting it making your squeal.

"Mm morning preciosa" he said tightening his grip even more while kissing your lips gently.

"You're squishing me Pablo!" you say and he giggles kissing all over your neck and face before letting you breathe.

"Good!" he said and you blushed leaning in to kiss his shortly again which he welcomed. Your moment was interrupted by his phone beeping with a message.

"It's your mom saying she will pick you up soon.." Pablo said answering shortly before putting it away and bringing all his attention back to you.

"And what if I don't want to go...?" you say touching his abs while he caressed your head kissing it gently.

"You first didn't want to stay, remember??" Pablo teased and you blushed hiding your face into his neck again while giggling.

"You're the best babysitter Pablo" you smirk looking up at him and he blushes a little shaking his head at your little comment.

"Eres mala..muy mala preciosa" he said hovering on top of you and kissing your lips passionately. You instinctively opened your legs for him which made him proudly smirk down at you.

"Although you're very hard to resist preciosa mia..we don't have the proper time right now" he said knowing that your mom will be here any minute now. You whined at those words touching his face and pulling him down for a kiss.

When you finally got up and your mom was at the door, Pablo politely greeted her and said goodbye to you. You were almost inside the car when you saw Pablo at the window looking at you longingly and you lied that you forgot something.

You ran inside all the way to the living room before jumping into Pablo's arms and kissing his lips lovingly. He chuckled holding you up with his hands resting on your butt and his lips devouring yours.

"What are you doing here preciosa?" he said

"I forgot something" you giggle kissing him again and he chuckled putting you down after a few more sweet kisses.

"Here you go..if your mom asks" he said giving you a water bottle which you took and blushed when he winked at you playfully.

"I'll see you soon!" you say very much excited for it.

"You will preciosa" Pablo said before you closed the door and left with your mom. You had your face glued to the phone screen texting with Pablo and already missing being surrounded by his strong arms.

After last night, you will never again be grumpy for being left by your parents..especially with your new babysitter ;))

[lilfatboy100]

Junk Food Addiction part 1

It didn't take long for you to stop wanting to gain clean. At 200 pounds, you had a thin layer of creamy fat on your body despite stuffing yourself all day every day. I warned you about health problems, which only flustered you, and I warned you about your early death, which you didn't care about. The next morning I woke up much earlier than you did and threw out all of your usual food, going to the store and replacing it with garbage. You woke up to the sound of greasy bacon frying in a pan and hurried out to the kitchen where two boxes of the biggest, heaviest donuts I could find were sitting at your spot at the table.

You quickly ate them all and happily accepted the pile of bacon I made for you as well.

"Gaining like this is so much better already!" you exclaimed, your stomach still rumbling.

You made your way to the fridge and found it filled with everything you dreamed about having: heavy cream, candy bars, fatty meats, soda, cake, and more, and when you looked in the freezer it was more fattening delights: all manner of ice cream and frozen food I would bake for you if you asked. You grabbed a tub of ice cream and sat down at the couch with it, quickly polishing half of it off in front of the TV.

Throughout the first day, you ate anything you wanted and everything I put in front of you, which led to your stomach gurgling and churning all the junk it wasn't used to as well as bloating. You paid it no mind, you were more excited that you'd eaten over 5000 calories in junk instead of 3000 in clean food easily.

In only a couple of weeks, you started gaining like a pig pumped full of grease, gaining 10 pounds in two weeks. You'd never had a gain that big before, and it pushed you to keep pushing yourself to eat past your limits every single day in hopes to keep eating more and more calories. Your gain eventually slowed down to three pounds a week, but you were still gaining steadily.

To keep your gaining up, I made you stay on the couch as long as possible each day, where all you had to do was ask and I'd bring you food, whatever and however much you wanted. You were very greedy and always asked me for food, so I brought it to you. Obesity found you very quickly, and you kept going further and further in the pursuit of more flab to play with when you got bored.

It worked and you blimped, swelling to 310 pounds over the next year. For Christmas, you met my family, who were fascinated at your appetite more than concerned at how fat you were. You had your first major health issue at this point, because you had been so lazy your leg muscles atrophied and were swallowed by fat, meaning you could barely waddle without wheezing. You took this as a reason to never move unless you absolutely had to, and the fact that you had finally grown too fat to do much of anything excited you.

I found out about two weeks later when I asked that you wanted to be *more* unhealthy than you were, and that you were excited to start having real health issues. You asked me to make you gainer shakes, the unhealthiest I could think of, so I came up with a sweet shake. It was made of sweetened condensed milk, corn syrup, heavy cream, ice cream, milk, sugar, and some soda to thin it out, and it was packed with unhealthy calories that would clog your insides. You loved to chug it as often as you could, and you started blimping again. You also asked to have all of your food fried and all of your drinks to have extra sugar mixed in, both of which I obliged to.

Your first doctor's appointment after you started gaining led to recommendations for weight loss programs, personal trainers, and diets to make you healthier again and to lose the pure fat you had put on.

"Ha! Like I'd ever lose an ounce of any of this lovely lard!" You said once we got in the car, slapping your belly.

You gleefully chugged two pitchers of sweet shake when we got home after glutting yourself on McDonald's on the way, finally sitting yourself down with a tub of ice cream while waiting for me to give you the plate of fried food you asked for.

When you reached 500 pounds in another year, you had diabetes, hypertension, and an early stage of fatty liver disease, as well as having atrophied and drowned your muscles in flab and bring barely able to move.

[dizzy-n-busy]

★ SAINT ★

Al and Seth run into problems, SugarBoo won't allow it.

{cw: homophobia, social anxiety, biblical-esque titles(?) and me calling SugarBoo both Sugar and Boo}

• • • ★ • • •

Seth shrugged on his coat, being careful to not reap the baker's stitch-work as he did.

Waiting by the door with fidgeting hands, Seth had wondered over and over and over again about why the couple housing him had asked him to tag along on a grocery trip.

Technically, Sugar had told him why.

" I'm runnin' low on supplies, and I don't want you here alone. "

I don't want you here alone.

The brunet rolls his lips together, knowing the implications behind their worry; his bruise - though having stopped it's swelling - still stung and his body still ached.

Seth sighed harshly through his nose, bunching up his brows and leaning his side to the door with crossed arms, wallowing.

If I had just -

" What'er you poutin' about, cowboy? You in time-out or somethin'? "

Seth jolts at the familiar voice.

Practically snapping his head to look at the pastel punk heading his way, throwing his jacket on and fixing it to sit properly on his broad shoulders.

Alphonse had a brow raised and sassy pout dressed on his lips - Seth scoffed at his playful demeanor, rolling his eyes and pushing off the woodwork to look at him head on. " I am not in time-out, just waiting for your slow self ta giddyap. "

" Don't start with the pissing contest boys, " Boo rounds the corner from the master bedroom, bundled up in a - clearly stolen - hoodie, " we've got places to be. "

They breeze past an incredulously faced Alphonse and towards Seth, who stiffens when they reach around him and grab their keys; turning their gaze to him with soft, lidded eyes.

" So, giddyap. "

~

Seth was practically glued to the couple - Boo, who pushed the cart and Alphonse, who touched every little thing that caught his eye - feeling skittish about being out in such a crowded area.

His eyes bounce between heads, waiting to see ones that set of the alarms. An impending tar pours over his heart; heavy, unrelenting and painfully difficult to ignore.

" Seth. "

Brown eyes find blue ones.

" You okay? Boo kept callin' you but you were kinda...zonin' out. " Alphonse tilts his pastel head at the shorter and Seth realizes that they're in the frozen isle - or maybe the trembling he was suddenly experiencing was from anxiety knawing at his bones.

Seth can't find his voice quick enough, gesturing with his hands as he fumbles over his words; feeling eyes bore at the back of his head.

" I - uhm - yeah! I-I'm fine, why wouldn't I be fine? " The brunet glances at the products chilling behind glass doors, " so, ice cream? "

Seth's relieved when Sugar follows along, shifting their weight to show him what was inside the rows, " how do you feel about sharing some neapolitan? "

" Harlequin. " Al says in a quiet pout to himself, Boo seems to hear him despite it. " You really like that name for it now, aye sweet thing? "

Seth chuckles - relaxing - as Alphonse leans his head on top of theirs, mumbling a small confirmation and gazing beady eyed at the tri-colored tub. Seth sees Sugar still waiting for his response with patient eyes, " I don't mind, never really ate it before. "

Sugar nods and grabs the ice cream, shutting the door and making Al cling onto them, giving them a quick back hug and cheek kiss before pulling away.

" We're almost done, just need some new piping tubes. " Boo pulls out their phone after placing the ice cream in the half-full cart, " don't say anything about that, Al. "

Seth looks at the male next to him; the tall fever dream slouches and pouts again, muttering a small 'I'm not that predictable' under his breath.

Boo starts pushing the cart away and the boys start following; Seth sighs discreetly and shoves his hands in his jeans pockets, wondering if the older citizens remember him.

Remember his unsaintly tendencies.

Seth feels something tug at his wrist; he panics instinctively. Eyes tearing to the connection and seeing a hand encompassing it; his eyes lead him up the arm to -

Alphonse?

His dyed head was turned away from him but Seth could see the tips of his ears turn pink. The male's grip was featherlight and gently coaxing him to keep walking.

Seth slides his hand out his pocket and their hands fall interlocked; naturally and out of instinct.

The brunet's head blanks as he continues walking forward - nevermind his ears and face burning hot - he can't even feel people in the isle start staring.

Time flies quickly after Al's display of comfort and soon the trio is stationed at the cashier, placing everything on the moving rack.

" D'you two want any candies while we're here? " Boo asked thumbing through their bills, Alphonse jumped up instantly and nodded, excited.

Seth admired the male who scanned through the limited array of brightly colored sweets; a smile slipping onto his face fondly, softly squeezing his hand when the pastel punk crouched to see them more properly.

The southern male turns his attention to Sugar as Al hops up with a small package, he wanted to ask if they would like anything but -

The sentence dies on his tongue as the deadpanned stare Sugar's giving him - no, not him but behind him.

Seth takes a peek and sees an older woman looking away uncomfortably. She catches his eyes for a second and it's blatant that she's...unapproving of him and the blue eyed candy addict next to him.

Thwack!

All three jump at the noise, the older woman more so. Seth looks at what made the noise and sees a divider being white-knuckled in Boo's hand.

" There you go, " Boo spits, eyes dark even under the florescent lights, " you can stop staring now. "

The woman doesn't get a word out before Sugar speaks again; a little quieter and more softly, " can you two start baggin' the stuff? "

Seth and Alphonse nod, walking to end of the register with their hands still connected; forcing the woman and Sugar to stand closer. Boo gave the woman a nasty look when they paid.

~

The trio make it outside the grocery store, the sky halfway to dusk and glimmering faintly with stars. All holding a variety of bags on their arms while they walk to the car.

Seth had to let go of Alphonse for this but he still reminisced about what happened.

That behavior wasn't anything new to him, but the fact that somebody actually said something about it was...odd?

Unfamiliar? Unnatural?

Seth can't quite put his finger on it, he just knew that it made him feel weird - not a bad weird, but 'this is something new' weird - he kinda liked it.

Big brown eyes glance at the leading figure, Sugar already fast approaching the car. A warm feeling almost brings Seth to his knees when he looks at them.

He'd never felt comfortable in this town - he always felt antagonized; evil, wrong.

Never in his life did he think he'd ever be seen as human or worth protecting. Not since his mama left him here; she was his sole protector.

His saint in this hell hole.

But now, he - and his soul bound partner - had another haven.

Another saint amongst the evil.

• • • ★ • • •

[resowrites]

Jurassic Park - drabble request (scheduled upload).

Summary: Henry’s parenting skills get a brush up…

Pairings: AU!Dad!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC/Reader

Warnings: fluff, parenting/family life, banter/British humour, pet names, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: <600

A/N: Got a request for more dad!Henry fluff, not sure if it’s supposed to be based on my previous series or not but either way, thanks and please enjoy. **This is a scheduled upload, while all interactions continue to be appreciated, they can’t be responded too at this time.**

Remember, this is pure fiction (as in completely made up), and not in any way meant to reflect reality. My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting.

Jurassic Park - drabble request.

She'd just come down to fetch the new novel she'd hoped to read in the bath, when a commotion sounded from the other room. "MUMMMMMMMY!!!" She sighed, tucked the book under her arm, and headed for the kitchen.

"What? What's going on?" Their son Hal was sitting at the table with his arms crossed and a thoroughly annoyed look on his face. Henry's eyes batted from him, to her, and back again.

"Mummy, I let Daddy have little bite of To… to… cerpops," both adults bit back a smile, "cos you say it good to share. But Daddy ate the wing! How it sposed to fly now?!"

"It can still fly! Just in a circle--"

"Daddy, shush--"

"But it's not like I ate the head! If I did it wouldn't have been able to fly at all--"

"Daddy, be quiet! Then what happened, Hal?"

"I say 'naughty Daddy,' and he laugh!" Henry quickly looked down, only just disguising a giggle.

"How did that make you feel, darling?"

"Cross!"

"And Daddy, how do you feel?"

"Honestly? Still a bit hungry--"

"HENRY--"

"What?! Besides, I shared half my peas--"

"Did Daddy apologise, Hal?"

"I was about to!" But she looked straight into his eyes and he immediately fell silent. Henry turned towards their boy. "I'm really sorry, Hal. Sometimes Daddy gets greedy and eats what he's not supposed to. Can you forgive me?" Their son smiled and patted him on the arm.

"That's okay Daddy, sometimes I greedy too." Hal stood on his chair so he could lean in for a cuddle. She couldn't help but smile.

"Right, Henry One, Henry Two, can I go back upstairs now?!"

"No! Mummy stay and have ice cream!" She struggled to know how to respond when Henry got up from the table.

"Not tonight Hal, Mummy needs some time out--"

"But she no in trouble!" Both adults laughed.

"Of course, not! Mummy's just tired, she's been very busy and taken care of us all day." Hal thought for a moment.

"But who take care of Mummy?" Henry smiled as he lifted him onto the breakfast counter.

"We do! And that also means giving her a break when she needs one. Now, what flavour would you like?" He opened the freezer drawer and pulled out a tub of Neapolitan ice cream.

"Silly Daddy! Want them all!" She quickly took the tub from his hands.

"You can both have two scoops each--"

"That's not fair!" They chimed. She shot Henry an exasperated look.

"Hal, clear your plate for Daddy then go play with Copper and Kal. I'll be in with your ice cream in a minute." He sighed but did as he was told, getting kisses on the head from both of them as he plodded off to the living room.

"Don't think you're getting an extra scoop just for that…"

"As if that was my intention!" They smirked at each other. "And why am I always Henry Two if I'm your husband?!"

"Because Henry One happens to be our son! And just how many dinosaurs did you eat off his plate?"

"Just half a Tocerpops!" She gave him a knowing look. "… As well as a rogue Pterodactyl and a couple of T-Rexs." She rolled her eyes.

"God help me. And if you eat any of his ice cream as well, God help you." She put the lid back on the tub and made for the stairs.

"Hey, there's no need to take it with you--"

"Course there is, otherwise I'd get none!"

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo @livesinfantasyland @jackjanira @geralts-yenn

[thatmexisaurusrex]

I’d like 👑 from the sambucky summer prompt, thank you!

SamBucky Summer Ficlet Prompts

Oooh, good choice! Enjoy!

No Time to Explain

Bucky Barnes wouldn't say that his usual housesitting experience included the mysterious appearance of a New Orleans hometown hero (well, Delacroix, technically, but from how Stevie talked about it, New Orleans claimed the new Captain America as their own because Delacroix was close enough and it wasn't as if the new Cap didn't frequent the city).

Picking up the mail for someone.

Mowing the lawn.

Doing laundry.

Those things were what Bucky was used to when he housesat for his good friend Steve Rogers whenever Stevie did an artist residency elsewhere.

Not.

Captain America knocking on the back door.

The full window, sliding doors back door of Stevie's home.

Where Captain America could see Bucky in only underwear as Bucky ate from the ice cream tub.

In the middle of the night.

Damn.

Talk about bad first impressions.

Bucky.

Placed his spoon down next to the half gallon of Blue Bell Dr. Pepper Float ice cream on the counter.

Before.

Thinking twice.

And.

Putting the lid back onto the ice cream, placing it back in the freezer before dropping the spoon in the sink.

Never breaking eye contact with Captain America as Bucky slowly walked over to the sliding door and let Cap in.

Because.

What was Bucky going to do?

Not let Captain America into Stevie's home?

The man knocked.

"Hi, uh. Mr. America? Or Captain? Cap? Hi - " Bucky started to say before he saw Captain America take off his cowl-mask-thing and oh my god, that was Stevie's neighbor.

And ex.

And the really cute guy Bucky kept fumbling with every time Bucky saw him.

"Sam?" said Bucky, gaping as he watched Sam Wilson, who was apparently Captain America, making a beeline to Stevie's cabinets and - and was he throwing a pocket knife taped under a shelf to Bucky?

How had Bucky not known there was a pocket knife there?

"No time. The Death-Throws are coming. Can you defend yourself?" asked Sam, taking a big, even breath before putting the cowl back on.

"I mean, yeah, but - but you're - ?" Bucky started as he opened the pocket knife, preparing for a fight.

"We'll talk later. Just - we can't let them get to Steve's game closet, okay?"

What the hell was in Stevie's game closet?

No time to explain, though.

Bucky trusted Sam.

He trusted Captain America.

"Got it, Cap," said Bucky as he watched shadowy figures hopping over the fence into Stevie's backyard.

And Bucky didn't know what was happening; what he had gotten himself into; what Sam and Stevie were entangled in.

But he was going to help.

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 ao3

When the doorbell rings, it isn’t Lucas. It’s Erica.

“Lucas is coming,” she says, hopping off her bike and picking up a plastic bag that’s looped around the handlebars. “I told him to give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Eddie says. He tips from concern into something approaching bemusement as Erica throws the bag at him; when he catches it, he feels the coldness of it, opens it up to find two tubs of ice-cream.

Erica side-steps him into the hall, calls over her shoulder, “Hurry up, Eddie, or it’s gonna melt.”

Eddie laughs. “Hi to you, too.”

When he reaches the kitchen, Erica has already opened the freezer to clear a space, Steve watching her from the counter with a look of benign amusement.

“I’d better be compensated for this,” Erica is saying. She points at the space she’s made, and Eddie dutifully slots the tubs inside. “This goes against the you supplying me with free ice-cream for life deal.”

“You literally ate my ice-cream,” Steve says. “Besides, I kinda figured that contract was null and void when Scoops went kaput.”

Erica shuts the freezer door. “I didn’t have a contract with Scoops, I had one with you.”

And she stops. “Have,” she corrects quietly.

No longer able to focus on putting the ice-cream away, her hands fall to her sides. Her little smile drops, and all at once, Eddie is reminded that she’s just eleven years old.

Steve’s face softens. “Why’re you really here, Erica?”

“Lucas,” Erica starts, then pauses—but that’s an answer all of its own, Eddie thinks. She collects herself, looks Steve directly in the eye. “He might not… get it all out.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Steve says.

“He was…” Erica glances down. “I don’t wanna see him like that. Ever again.”

“Hey, look at me.” Steve’s tone is gentle. “I’m sorry.”

Erica sighs loudly; Eddie can hear the frustration and hurt in it, but mostly the love. “You don’t have to—that’s not why I’m telling you,” she says. “I don’t…” Her eyes widen a little. “I don’t know why I’m telling you.”

Steve smiles at her, lifts up one arm in offering. He makes a beckoning gesture. “Help a guy out? I don’t have travelling by bar stool down yet.”

“Was that meant to be funny? Pathetic,” Erica replies, but she’s heading over to him as she says it, lets herself be pulled into a hug.

Steve whispers something in her ear—Eddie half-hears it as a crack about her ice-cream preferences, and she giggles a bit, does a more dramatic sigh and says, “Nothing can cure your poor taste, Steve.”

She settles into the hug.

Eddie thinks of the slip up she made. Had, have. Past, present. Hates that she was forced into thinking of Steve in the past tense—for even a second is a second too long.

As Erica heads out, she turns to Dustin, who’s sitting out on the driveway, waiting for Lucas to show up.

“Look after him,” she says with an intensity that might’ve been funny if Eddie hadn’t known all that had caused it.

Dustin chuckles slightly. He jerks his head back to the house, where Eddie stands at the front doormat. “Which one?”

Erica grins, looks a little lighter. “I meant Lucas, but guess you’ve got your hands full. You’re the babysitter now.”

As she gets back on her bike, Eddie calls after her. “What, don’t I get any orders?”

She glances at him over her shoulder, one foot on the pedal. Her gaze lingers for a couple of beats, and he thinks of her staring him down at Hellfire, sharp and analytical. But now there’s a softness there, too.

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing, I suppose,” she says, and her lips twitch into a smile that’s just pretending to be sardonic, and Eddie feels his heart swell.

-

Dustin sits with him on the stairs. When Lucas arrived, he barely said a word, not even to Dustin, instead heading through the hallway like someone marching towards the gallows.

They stay put, giving a semi-illusion of privacy—voices can travel far in this damn house—but they can hardly hear anything right now, just the soft rumble of speech, the rise and fall of a question, then silence.

“Can I tell you something?” Dustin mumbles haltingly.

“Sure,” Eddie says, and means Of course you fucking can. Always.

“It was my fault,” Dustin says into his knees, “with… Max. When I was—Lucas, he came to get me when you, um. When you drove away.”

Eddie doesn’t know what his face is doing, but he feels a pang of guilt which Dustin must notice, because he nudges Eddie’s forearm.

“I was kinda… freaking out. A lot, actually. By the time we got to the house, Max, she—she’d already stopped listening to her tape. I… I gave her time to think about it, you know? If we were quicker, we might’ve…”

Stopped it. Eddie’s all too familiar with that sentiment.

“You know, like with Steve. He… he must’ve thought about—about it for ages when he…” Dustin clears his throat. “When he saw the clock.”

Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tell him that Steve had made his decision in a split-second, like it was inevitable; like he’d already committed to it long ago, stared that awful option down and came to the conclusion easily, if it meant everyone else would be safe.

-

“This is stupid,” Dustin announces after another five minutes have passed without them overhearing anything, not even the whisper of a voice.

He’s down the stairs before Eddie can even think about stopping him. Even if he had been quick enough, he’s not sure if he would’ve decided to stop him in the first place. Shit, he’s not all that sure about anything; there’s no guidebook for this.

He follows Dustin into the kitchen, sees him standing by the fridge; Lucas is sitting at the counter, holding a glass of water Steve must’ve instructed him to take.

Steve is speaking with a quiet urgency, his eyes pleading as he considers Lucas searchingly. “You don’t—don’t need to be nice to me or anything, dude. I can take it. Don’t, like… tread on eggshells on my account.”

“It was my fault,” Dustin interrupts.

Lucas frowns, shakes his head.

And Eddie and Steve speak in unison, a firm rebuttal: “Dustin.”

They jolt in surprise, glance at each other—and then Dustin snorts and says, “Holy shit, that was like a sitcom. Did you, like, practice that or are you just losers?”

And that makes Lucas laugh into his glass of water.

And then… maybe it helps, the echo of laughter in a room, even if it’s only for a moment.

Because suddenly Lucas just launches right into it: how he ran back inside, Dustin in tow and, still catching his breath, it had taken him a few seconds to realise that he couldn’t hear Max’s tape playing.

“Erica noticed first,” he stays, staring into the glass of water. “Her voice went all strange and—I’d never heard her like—like that before. Then she pointed, and I saw… Max had taken her headphones off.”

He grips the glass tightly. The back of his hand dashes away the tears at first, but then he just lets them fall—slow and sluggish tracks, like he’s not even aware that he’s crying anymore.

“Steve, she was… She was begging. For—for him to…”

Steve breathes out, passes a hand across his face. “Jesus, Sinclair, I’m—”

“I love her so much,” Lucas whispers with a certainty that’s much greater than his years, “but I c-couldn’t reach her. It was like she—the only thing that stopped her was…”

“When everything went to shit,” Dustin says when it’s clear Lucas can’t go on.

And it’s like Eddie can hear it, suddenly—that oppressive silence. Feeling like there was no air left to breathe, that there never would be again.

“Steve? Steve.”

Steve’s eyes, glassy and gone, no light behind them. The awful stillness of his chest.

The world ripping apart.

Eddie presses a finger hard to the inner corner of one eye, a vain attempt to block out the image. He thinks of the kids being thrown to their knees with the force of it, a window shattering—and as the rest of Hawkins screamed with no understanding, they would know exactly what it meant.

Lucas and Dustin look like they’re reliving it, too, their faces drawn.

Eddie thinks back to the RV, when Nancy first laid out the apocalyptic vision that had been forced upon her. Eddie, once again a silent watcher in the crowd, his eyes drifting over them all, noticing every twitch, every grim set to their mouth—a horrifying sense of resignation. Eddie thinking yet again that Jesus, they’re used to this.

He had thought that he’d reached his breaking point with Chrissy’s death, and then…

But the others, they’ve had years of this, stretched thin like elastic. Eddie remembers as they began the drive back to Hawkins, as the rest of them gradually dropped off to sleep. Remembers thinking, right before he caught Steve’s whisper, How much more can they take?

It’s Steve’s voice that brings him back. He starts a little at the sound.

“Lucas, you… you would’ve reached her, okay? You’d have brought her back, I know that you…”

There’s a look that passes between the three of them, Steve, Dustin and Lucas: some shared understanding. They’d barely talked about what happened when Vecna’s curse took hold of Max, apart from the song that saved her. The most Eddie is aware of is that it happened in the graveyard.

The rest is not for him to know, he thinks.

“Look, I’m not—I’m not in her head, but I don’t think she wanted to—to—” Steve says, and he stumbles a bit over the words, voice growing a little thick with emotion. “She was… scared. Really scared. And that’s—that’s on me, man.”

For barely a second, Steve’s eyes flicker over to Eddie’s. Then he looks away.

“I’ll talk to her,” Steve says, and it sounds like I’ll fix it, I’m sorry, I swear. His shoulders tense, and Eddie can practically feel it, another load this fucking selfless boy takes on like it’s as natural as breathing, and he kind of wants to cry.

He doesn’t.

-

Max doesn’t ring the doorbell, opens the front door so quietly that Eddie only notices when a gust of wind shuts it behind her.

After a grateful phone call from Steve, Claudia Henderson had given Lucas and Dustin a ride home; the emptiness of the house is now all too apparent as Max stares Eddie down in the hallway.

“Hey, Red,” Eddie says, aims to be soft enough to soothe, not too much for fear that it’ll get her hackles up. He can feel the tension within her, can almost hear the grinding of her teeth. He can’t fuck this up. One wrong move, and she’ll run.

He gestures through to the living room. She clips him with her shoulder as she barges past him, and that’s fine; if it makes it hurt a little less for her, he’ll take more than that.

She stands in front of the couch where Steve sits. She wraps one arm around herself, a move Eddie recognises. Unconscious self-defence. He thinks of her voice over the walkie, still managing to laugh at Steve’s movies. Marvels in a horrified sort of way at how long she’s been pushing everything down.

“I’m sorry,” Max says. She looks down at the floor.

Eddie moves slowly, stands at the end of the couch, not too close to Max. Steve turns to him very slightly, eyes flitting between the two of them.

Eddie doesn’t need to hear it to know what Steve means. Be careful.

Eddie barely moves his head in a nod. I know.

“I’m not staying long, so just.” Max raises her chin, and her eyes are burning—and people who didn’t know any better might call that defiance. Eddie doesn’t. “Just tell me.”

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it. He glances down at the coffee table, where the cracked tape still lies.

“Tell you what, Max?” he asks, so quiet, so worried—like he’s scared that with just one word, he’ll ruin everything.

“What I did wrong,” Max says. She scrubs at her eyes, blinks up at the ceiling, and Steve’s face falls.

“You didn’t—”

Max sighs harshly. “I’m not stupid. You can—” She turns to Eddie, and he watches in horror as she squeezes her eyes shut, bracing herself, like Eddie might crack first, might give her the judgement she’s desperately searching for. “You can say it.”

“Max,” Steve says.

“I fucked up the plan. It was meant to be me. There—there must’ve been a reason that he—”

“No,” Steve says, and the word is strong, his resolve clear. “Max, listen to me. No.”

But Max shakes her head. “I must’ve done something, I know I did, I made him get in your head—”

“That’s not how it works,” Steve says, kind but firm. “Max, it was—nothing is worth you—”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite,” Max whispers. “I was marked already, asshole, he was coming back to claim—”

“Oh my god, no,” Steve repeats. “Max, what? He had no claim on you, you never deserved—”

“And you did?” Max challenges. Her lips are trembling.

“No,” Steve says, gentle. “But… hey, listen, it. It would’ve been—”

“No, it wouldn’t have been!” Max explodes, and she’s shaking where she stands, like she might break apart. “It wouldn’t have been worth it or okay or whatever bullshit you were about to—”

“All right, all right—”

“You would’ve been gone.” And all at once, she goes very still. “You were gone.”

She pinches the skin on the back of her hand, hard enough to hurt, and Eddie thinks that’s enough.

He walks over, as slowly as he can. He doesn’t touch her, but he stands close enough that she could reach out if she wanted to.

God, Red. Please let me help you.

Max snarls as he lifts one hand in offering. “Fuck off,” she breathes, and she strikes out, hits him in the chest. It’s hard enough for him to have to bite back a gasp, but that’s fine; as far as he’s concerned, she can hit him all she likes.

But that doesn’t last long. At some point, her hand clenches around his shirt, and she just holds on.

Hardly daring to breathe, he slowly reaches out and steadies her, both hands around her elbows.

“Easy, I’ve got you. You wanna… walk with me? That’s it, there you—”

Eddie only lets go after he leads her to Steve. She sobs, once, twice, then the dam breaks as Steve sits up, pulls her close.

“Max, I’m so sorry,” he says. “It wasn’t fucking fair. Shh, hey, hey, there was nothing you could’ve—oh, baby.” His voice fades away for a moment, the barely held back tears audible. He kisses her temple. “Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. I’m here, okay? Shh, shh. Hey, we made it, huh? We’re gonna be all right.”

She cries it out for a while—eventually, all Eddie can hear is her stuttering breaths, slowly evening out.

“Oh,” Steve sighs shakily, and he strokes Max’s hair off her face, catches Eddie’s eye and mouths over the top of her head: She’s asleep.

Eddie gets a blanket from the arm of the couch, tucks it around her—knows that Steve won’t be moving one inch, not even when the angle he’s sitting at is bound to make his leg ache.

“I’ll call her… mom?” Eddie says, cautiously.

Steve thinks about it, then nods. “Yeah,” he murmurs, presses another kiss to Max’s temple when her chin dips down in sleep. “That should be… Lucas said that they’re both staying with his folks for a bit.”

As Steve’s speaking, a tear falls down his cheek. You’d never have known, Eddie thinks, not unless you were looking for it.

On impulse, he runs a hand through Steve’s hair before heading to the phone, and hopes that it says enough.

-

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Steve says dully. He’s fiddling with one of his pills, rolling it back and forth on the counter.

Eddie pauses, mid-taking a can of Coke out of the fridge. It’s just the two of them again, an exhausted Max picked up by her mother, who somehow barely batted an eye when Eddie answered the door and led her to her still sleeping daughter; Dustin picking up schoolwork—of all things—from his house.

“Like what?”

Steve swallows the pill dry, which makes Eddie inwardly wince.

“I hoped it wouldn’t be like this,” he corrects, not answering the question.

Eddie leans against the counter with his hip, opens the can. Waits.

“It’s just… I spent some time thinking about it, you know? Well.” Steve laughs humourlessly. “Not like I had that much time to… weigh it all up, but…” He sighs. “I thought they’d be okay, if…”

Eddie sets down the can before his hand can shake.

“It’s just. Like. I know you weren’t there for it all, but I guess I kinda… got used to them bouncing back? Sort of. Um, we all needed to.” He swallows. “I had to think that they’d be okay,” he whispers. “That was, like, one of the only thoughts that kept me from…” Steve shakes his head, eyes far-off again, and for a moment they’re in the RV, and Steve is saying, gaze fixed determinedly ahead, Listen, I can see a clock in the middle of the goddamn road, okay?

“From losing it,” Steve finishes.

There’s a tremor to Steve’s fingers as they drum on the counter, uneasy taps.

Eddie reaches over, gently stills him—two of his fingers resting on Steve’s knuckles.

“They bounced back from monsters, Steve,” he says slowly. “Not from… not from losing people.” From losing you.

Steve covers his eyes with the hand Eddie isn’t touching. Breathes in and out. Shudders.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, choked. “Just… ignore me for a second, Eddie.”

At first, Eddie tries to, because that’s what Steve had asked, but then Steve’s hand moves on the counter, until he’s gripping onto Eddie’s hand tightly; and Eddie holds on as Steve’s tremor moves up through his arm, his chest, until it’s all of him.

Do you see the gaping hole you would have left? Eddie thinks. Bites down on his lip to keep from crying, because this isn’t about him. Do you see how much they would have missed you?

Do you get it now, how much they love you?

But as Steve weeps for his family, for himself, Eddie can’t hold back the thought, as inevitable as the tide going out.

I would have fucking mourned you forever.

-

Sometimes in between the afternoon and evening doses of medicine, Steve drifts off into a kind of waking sleep—he’s still there enough to be roused if someone asks him a question, but his head nods sleepily more often than not, half-caught in a dream.

In the quiet, Dustin returns, finds a gap in the couch so he can sit next to Steve without jostling him—then sets about doing homework, and Eddie can’t begin to imagine how he’s focusing on it. But then again, Dustin has the kind of mind that once wanted to solve a Russian code for kicks in the summer vacation.

It’s peaceful.

Peaceful until Steve’s head jerks up with a ragged gasp.

And before Eddie can even say anything, Steve grips Dustin by the shoulders.

“Oh, you’re—” Steve exhales, chest catching on it. “Oh.”

His eyes are wild, darting all over Dustin, face cracked open with a vulnerability he’d never show if he was fully awake. His hand reaches up, moves through Dustin’s hair, searching, searching.

“Steve,” Dustin says, but it’s not a question. Like he kind of knows, understands just enough without being told.

And as Steve cups the back of Dustin’s head, Eddie gets it. He’s looking for blood.

“It wasn’t real, Steve,” Dustin says, with a clarity and kindness that makes Eddie think oh, I fucking love you, Dustin Henderson. “We’re good. Okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Steve answers, hooks his chin over Dustin’s head and hugs him. -

When the phone rings, Eddie picks up quickly; Dustin and Steve are both fast asleep, heads lolling onto the back of the couch.

It’s Wayne—and he doesn’t sound all that surprised to hear Eddie answer.

“How’d you know I was still here?” Eddie asks.

“Made an educated guess,” Wayne says. He sounds fond. “That and Joyce Byers called.”

Oh, Eddie thinks. And then, of course she did.

“We’re on the list,” Wayne says, “to get re-housed. S’going quicker than expected. Reckon that they,” he stresses the word like it’s a capital They, “don’t wanna give folks too much time to complain.”

He says it with such ease, and Eddie’s suddenly thrown back to him arriving at the trailer, small and angry and afraid, and Wayne just looking at him, saying gently, “Well, kid, we’ll make it work.”

Eddie sighs into the receiver. “I’m sorry—”

“Ed, shut the hell up,” Wayne says through an obvious smile, and Eddie chokes out a laugh that’s slightly wet around the edges.

-

The phone rings again, and this time it’s Jim Hopper.

“Look alive, Munson. Got a number for you.”

“Oh, uh.” Eddie runs about for a notepad and pen. “Okay?”

Hopper fires off a number which Eddie copies down and underlines, just because it feels like that’s the kind of thing he should do.

“That’s a private number, got it? Ring if there’s any trouble.”

“Um, sure,” Eddie says. “I’ll, uh. I’ll tell Steve.”

“No, kid, that’s for you,” Hopper says before abruptly hanging up.

When Eddie sets the phone down, Steve is sitting up, Dustin stirring and grumbling a complaint. He hears Steve laugh under his breath: “That’s what you get for trying to do math right now, dude.”

Eddie sits cross-legged on the floor in front of them. Thinking.

“You okay?” Steve asks.

“Jim Hopper’s fuckin’ weird,” Eddie says distantly.

Steve snorts. “Wow. And that’s coming from you.”

Dustin giggles himself awake as Eddie flips him the bird.

-

Jonathan Byers comes round just as Dustin heads upstairs to use the shower which—okay, sure. Eddie’s getting used to the whole people coming and going thing, and in theory he knows that obviously Jonathan’s been around for this since the beginning, but it’s another thing to see it in person.

It’s like an annoyingly stubborn part of his brain is still stuck on high school, looking at Jonathan and Steve in the same room, whining: But that’s not right—your kind don’t mix.

Jonathan’s polite, Eddie will give him that, but it’s obvious from the outset that he’s just here to speak to Steve.

Eddie leaves them to it in the living room, but it’s hard not to overhear, even when he’s doing his best to concentrate on the hum of the microwave as he heats through casserole.

“She’s staying in her room a lot, and you know what her mom’s like, Steve, she won’t—”

“Yeah, Robin said she tried to call, got no answer.”

“The most I could get her to talk was when she was with Holly. It’s like she doesn’t want to leave her alone.”

“Yeah, I… God, I don’t know. Wish I knew how to…”

“Me, too. But you’ll… you’ll call right, if she…? Fuck, it scares me sometimes, she’s so quiet. Don’t know if she’ll even turn to anyone.”

“Yeah, Jonathan, ‘course I’ll… Look, it’s just. It’s just been a lot, man. For all of us. She just needs some time, I think.”

“Yeah, I—sorry. I just worry.”

“Me, too.”

Eddie punches the buttons, sets the microwave on again before it can screech at him.

Jonathan leaves soon after that, gives Eddie a slightly awkward but sincere smile, bids goodbye to Steve with a, “Look after yourself, Steve.”

There’s a weight behind those words.

“Wheeler okay?” Eddie asks, once the front door has shut.

Steve sighs. “Hope so.”

The silence is heavy, and because Eddie can’t leave well enough alone, and apparently has a compulsion to put his foot in his mouth when it comes to this pair, blurts out, “Yeah, I kinda thought you two were a sure thing, man.”

Steve gives him a sideways look that Eddie can’t quite read. “Do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

Steve shrugs. “Like… imagine other people’s futures.”

It’s not said, but Eddie can hear the instead of your own loud and clear.

The embarrassment is expected. What isn’t is how he strangely welcomes it—no-one’s seen him like that before, cut right down to the core of him.

It’s his turn to shrug. “Kind of? It’s… you know what this town’s like, man. People and, like, how it’s all gonna turn out… some folks’ lives are easier to imagine than, uh. Others.”  

It was a bit like solving a simple puzzle piece: it had been easy to imagine Nancy and Steve together, to picture them as they were back then, young and sweet in the school corridors… using the belief in them as a sure thing to try and keep himself from losing it in a world turned (literally) upside down.

Steve’s lips twitch at the corners into a little smile. “Thought your whole thing was how people can defy expectations, or whatever.”

“Yeah, well. Even I’m not immune to hypocrisy, Harrington.”

Steve huffs a laugh. Hums. “I think I was always meant to love her,” he says, slow and thoughtful, “just… not in that way.”

“…Oh.”

Steve’s smile shifts into something melancholy. “I think we were both lonely, y’know? And, like… too similar. We both got trapped in our heads whenever shit went sideways. So if we needed, like, help or just… we couldn’t… couldn’t reach each other. Does that make sense?”

Eddie nods faintly.

“Eddie, can you promise me something?”

Eddie nods again, holds Steve’s gaze. Anything.

“Nance, if she—if she comes to you, just… be there for her?”

Eddie opens his mouth, but Steve keeps talking.

“I mean, ‘cause, you’re a good listener, man. And you’re kind. You can… see people.”

And Eddie suddenly has to hold his breath. He knows what Steve is referring to, thinks of how he recounted his meeting with Chrissy in the woods, as the group hiked from Skull Rock. I don’t know, man, I just knew something was up with her. Like, something was really wrong.

But the way Steve speaks to him—there’s more underneath the words. Kind of sounds like You can see me, too.

Eddie swallows through the burning in his throat. “I will,” he promises.

[t4tozier]

Funny little headcanon for Jace and sorcerers in general:

a side effect of having magic as an innate source in your body is that sorcerers need a lot of extra calories to act as fuel for the magic or otherwise magic will start burning other areas.

Jace being a powerful sorcerer is a good example of this, only thing is he’s terrible at sitting down and actually remembering to eat a proper meal, he’s also one of those people who just doesn’t like to eat a lot in one go.

As a result Jace is CONSTANTLY snacking, like they’ll be having an important meeting with the rest of the staff and Jace just randomly halfway through pulls out a yogurt and banana.

Or a pupil will stop to ask him something in the hall only to realise that jace is halfway through a packet of pistachios.

He keeps an entire shelf and a mini fridge in his office stocked with a selection of his favourite foods and it’s a 50/50 shot wether you can walk into their and find him eating.

And sure it’s a bit weird but this is aguefort and it’s hardly the weirdest quirk a teacher has so everyone just shrugs it off as a strange Jace thing.

Also pretty much every sorcerer student has at least once felt faint only for Jace to suddenly appear with a cookie and juice telling them to sit down for a bit, they’re then given a talk on low mana and blood sugar and wow this probably the only time they’ve seen Jace so serious.

-

And since I had to add some starbreaker to this: Jaces eating habits annoy the hell out of Porter, Porter who plans his meals down to the very last calorie and nutritional value and still can’t quite get rid of that gut (it’s muscle anyway ports official art always struck me as someone with more of a strongman build rather than the 6 pack body builder type).

Meanwhile Jace is on his second candy bar of the day, porters definitely not jealous.

Is Jace has definitely accidentally pissed of a number of people by either them talking about diets, trying to lose weight etc and Jace just looking at them blankly completely unable to relate.

Or someone asking what his secret for staying so skinny is and Jace inwardly thinking and how he was too lazy to cook last night and instead ate half a tub of ice cream instead. Xx

grazer jace real. also. brennan lee mulligan coded. he refuses to share his snacks w anyone but if one of his students is on the verge of passing out jace is right there w like an airplane selection of snacks for them to choose from <3 he’s very much an intuitive eater so he’s like. not even confused he lives with porter he knows Why ppl diet n shit but it just doesn’t make sense to him he’s like. let’s get it together guys. why aren’t u eating things u like. why are u actively denying urself pleasure. also hedonist jace real <3

i need porter to talk to senshi (?) from dungeon meshi. getting everyone on the build a bear grind. are we talking about senshi or me. who’s to say.

[miomaom3]

My mom bought me a chocolate muffin but I threw it to trash when I got away from her. Also I ate more than half of ice cream from a tub that was like 450ml but I threw the rest of that away too. I love how I don't feel bad about throwing food away cause that literally helps me so much!

[redeyesandchilifries]

I ate like half a tub of this chocolate honey crunch whatever ice cream and

That was a Mistake