#i know neither of these are reasons to have a car and i currently could not rlly afford getting even a used car and then insurance and AUGH

[carcarrot]

nj to nyc commutes will get you so fucked up you even contemplate learning how to drive

[tohokuu]

there’s only one bed left - tengen, akaza, rengoku, giyuu

REBLOG MY WORK.

warnings : suggestive, fluff, smut in giyuu’s

a/n : they’re so cute and fluffy i love and omg k want this to happen to me so bad. also, can you guys tell i love akaza???

TENGEN

you and your current boyfriend had offered to take you on a vacation to turkey. you agreed, happily ready to see the mountains and planes of turkey. upon arrival at the hotel, tengen took both of your suitcases, handing them to the bus boy that was at the door to carry your luggage for you.

“tengen, i could’ve held it.” you insisted. he shook his head. “it’s not very flashy.”

you raised an eyebrow, sighing and giving up because there was never any good reason to argue with him and win.

you two walked up to the reception, a kind old man standing behind the counter.

“a reservation for uzui tengen, please.” tengen crooned. his body seemed giddy and the hair on his arms rose. maybe he was cold?

the bus boy carried your luggage onto a cart. you felt bad for him. no one was helping him and he was pushing a card with a total of 12 suitcases with him. he couldn’t see ahead of him but neither tengen helped him, nor did he allow you to.

you pursed your lips, hoping the awkward silence would pass by quickly in the elevator.

at the ding of the elevator, you all stepped out and tengen was gracious enough to carry 4 suitcases on his own, not even breaking a sweat.

his work out routine was rough.

upon arrival, you looked into the large spacious king suite. two beds settled into each side of the room, 5 feet of space between both of them.

tengen walked through the threshold in shock. the smile on his face replaced with a shocked and confused expression.

he threw his arms out forward, bending and looking at the two beds.

“what the fuck!? i asked for one bed!”

AKAZA

“there’s only one room left and it’s got a single queen sized bed.” the receptionist said as she looked up at you and akaza.

you and him turned to look into each others eyes, dumbfounded expressions on your face.

“uhm… are you sure there aren’t any more?” he asked her. she shook her head. “i’ve checked twice, sir. this is the only room available. there will be more later tomorrow.”

you observed your situation. would you drive through the pouring snow for another hour for the next hotel, or sleep in your car and risk freezing to death?

what could you do? because you’d rather sleep on the edge of a volcano than sleep in the same bed as akaza.

not that you hated him or anything. it was his sheer attractiveness that pulled you in. he was so handsome and so sweet and respectful, but he was also strong and kind.

there was nothing to dislike and that’s exactly what bothered you. you liked him.

so how could you be able to handle sleeping with him??

“does the room come with a couch?” he asked. the receptionist shook her head.

“i’m afraid not, sir. there’s only one room available with one bed.”

akaza sighed and looked at you. “we can stay if you’d like, or i can go find a different hotel .” he quickly offered. you shook your head.

“it’s too cold, akaza. just stay here, we’ll figure it out.”

-

just like that, you two are forced to be in close proximity together. akaza had tried to take the floor but the cold marble was freezing and you’d rather not make him suffer through that.

so your next option was to sleep together with pillows put in between you two as a barrier.

the silence was awkward.

there was so much tension, it could have been cut with a knife. sleep wouldn’t come easy either, you were too stressed … and a little bit hot.

“akaza, it’s hot in here.” you whined. he sighed, knowing it was because the hotel had racked the heater up so high and the pillows and blankets you used to separate yourselves wasn’t helping.

“let’s get rid of the pillows, then.” there was hesitation in his voice. he wasn’t completely sure if you’d be okay with taking the pillows down. you sighed, thinking with your cunt instead.

“it’s perfectly fine.” you smiled, leaning back on your elbows as you stared at him from across your little wall.

the pillows were thrown on to the floor by the both of you in a comical manner. you pushed the comforter down a bit, revealing your tiny shorts and crop top.

this felt a lot better.

but akaza warmed up. he realized how close to naked you were lying next to him on this big bed. what was to stop him if he wanted you?

his brain, of course.

“can we cuddle?” he asked. his voice was filled with that same hesitation from earlier. you turned your head to look at him.

“what?” you asked.

even in the moonlight, you could see the redness of his cheeks and the way his long lashes fluttered over his blue eyes.

“nothing, i-… i just-“

your wave of confidence washed over you as you turned towards him, hooking one leg over his waist and wrapping your arms around his neck.

his body was frigid. he didn’t know what to do. your own was excruciatingly hot because how on earth did you manage to do this?

a moment of silence and pure awkwardness passed by until his arms wrapped around you, a little bit tighter as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“you smell good.” you two whispered at the same time. a laugh booming into the air as you realized your mistake. he laughed too, eyes shutting closed while peacocks formed at the corner of his eyes.

he looked back at you, smiling in content in this position he got himself in.

a hand trailed up your neck and as if the world has slowed down and the wind had began to blow, you felt the searing touch of akaza’s lips slot against yours.

you whimpered into his mouth, kissing back with just as much passion. he held onto your face he tenderly, cradling it as though you might break.

“i like you.” he whispered against your lips.

“i like you more.”

RENGOKU

“rengokuuuu!!” you wailed. he turned to look at you, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

“what happened, y/n?” the orange haired male asked.

you pouted, explaining to him that there was only one cabin left and the cabin only had one bed. rengoku smiled as if there were no issues. “that’s quite alright. i can take the couch!”

you shook your head. “no, absolutely not. i’d feel terrible.” the smile never faltered from his face. he was an endless ray of sunshine that kept you warm for days.

“don’t worry, my dear y/n. we’ll figure it out. don’t worry.”

-

you wondered how he’d ended up in your bed. he was shirtless, hair sprawled out messily on the pillowcase and his abs were on full display.

you lay against him, his arm pulling you over his chest. then you looked down…

‘why am i fucking naked??’

rengoku was also naked… does that mean you two?..

you looked in the corner at the empty bottle of whiskey. your face felt impossibly hot but a wet feeling erupted in between your legs at the idea of rengoku being the one to pleasure you.

still, you sat there in shock. how could you have spent a night with rengoku and not even remember it?! this was absolutely atrocious.

“good morning, my flower.” a voice interrupted your thoughts. it was deep, coming from the broad chest of the man you slept with last night.

“g-good morning, rengoku…” you replied, swallowing an awkward lump in your throat.

“rengoku, did we… did we fuck last night?” you asked him sheepishly, holding the bed spread tightly to your chest. he looked confused, still half asleep.

he peered one eye open, looking to check if he was nude.

he was.

with that, he shot up. a blush enflamed his cheeks. what the fuck..he thought.

“n-no.. i didn’t just fuck you for the first time and not remember it.” he whined, worry deeply set in his voice. you calmed him down, rubbing a soft hand up and down his chest.

“we have many more opportunities to make love again.” you reasoned. you had been with the man for just a few months, wanting to take it slow and surely not sleep with each other until you were both ready but this… this was quite different than what you planned.

“i know, but angel, this was the first time.” he whined softly.

you pulled his head onto your chest. running your fingers through his hair, trying to get him to stop being mean to himself.

“it’s okay, baby.” you cooed. “we have all the time in the world, don’t worry.”

“well in that case…you wanna go round 2 right now?”

GIYUU

“there’s only one room left, sir.” the receptionist called out. giyuu sighed. “we’ll take that one.” he didn’t give you much of a choice. dragging your luggage and his with him up the elevator, he hadn’t said a word.

you figured he was already quite annoyed about the pompous amount of rain outside. you two were traveling for a meeting and the rain had delayed both of you. it bothered him endlessly that he was going to miss such an important meeting.

you chose not to speak, not wanting to irritate the quiet male.

he set down your luggage on the side, next to the bed. his clothes came off next. jacket, sweater and a black tank top that he chose to leave on. he took off his jeans, lounging around in plain black boxers.

“take the bed. i’ll be fine on the couch.” he grumbled. you nodded, heading to the bathroom to change into something more comfortable to sleep in.

-

you walked back out in a large t shirt and panties. you figured it didn’t matter much because your t shirt was so big that it reached the middle of your thigh, anyway.

but giyuu saw. he was turned towards you when you reached down to put your phone on charging, your ass on clear display for him.

he breathed sharply through his nose. it was simply a bad idea to even have turned facing your direction. he felt his dick semi-hard.

turning around, he ignored it, choosing peace instead.

it was later that night that something woke him up. was it the rush of heavy rain? the hotel telephone? or … heavy breathing coming from your side of the room.

he quietly listened, steadying his own breathing.

his eyes widened as he heard everything that fell from your lips, dick straining against his boxers.

fuck.

you were touching yourself… to the thought of him.

the mewls were hushed, doing your best to keep quiet. the air was hot and heavy and when he slowly peeked to look over, he saw you with your legs spread. they stretched far apart as your pretty pussy was on display. he could hear how wet you were, fingers sloshing around in the mess inside of you.

“g-giyuu…” you breathed heavily. he couldn’t help but trail his own hand to his cock, rubbing it uncomfortably against the palm of his large hands.

“f-feels so good.” you whined softly.

he could only imagine. he could think of 10 different ways that he could make you cum. 10 different ways to make you go stupid and crying for him and his cock.

he rutted against his palm harder, trying to keep the grunts of pleasure in. he was so close to his orgasm, just needed a bit more, and you gave it to him.

“ ‘m gonna cum so hard,, g-giyuu..” you cried softly, the tears in your voice apparent.

then what giyuu got up, trailing his way to your bed. he pulled the covers farther down, revealing your calves.

your eyes shot open as you stopped, the pleasure long gone.

“g-giyuu, this isn’t what it looks like- i swear!” you shouted.

he put a hand over your mouth.

“shut up, i’ll take care of you now.”

REBLOG MY WORK.

taglist form.

©️ tohokuu. do not steal or plagiarize.

[luvjunie]

— sleepover

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual

summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630

New york. The city that never sleeps.

The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomed—also the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with ease—but now— was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.

And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.

After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldn’t even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.

Fun, right?

Yeah, well you thought it’d be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.

The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.

Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.

You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasn’t necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, you’d always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show you’d put on in the background begging for the same attention you’d give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.

But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.

“Baby?” Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.

Silence.

He’d said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when you’re asleep it slows down to five.”

You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. “Okay, now that’s just creepy.”

“People who are asleep don’t laugh!” he quipped.

A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadn’t the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.

“Yes, Miles?”

“Can you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?” The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.

You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. “No, I can’t fall asleep either.”

“I think I know why.” he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.

“Miles,” you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. “Your mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.” grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.

He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.

“But how is that fair?” he complained, sounding exasperated. “We take naps together all the time when you’re here, I just wanna cuddle with you.” he sulked, as if you were the one who’d come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, yeah. But that’s during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I don’t think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,” The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. “…obvious reasons.”

He impishly raised a brow as if he didn’t know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.

“And what reasons are those?” Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.

Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you weren’t going to get yourself out of this. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His hand gestured to the air, plainly. “Well obviously. But still, we’re not dumb. That’s why I always take you to the roof when we—“

“Miles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!”

He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.

“This is not going to help us fall asleep.” your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.

He hummed. “Exactly, meaning there’s only one thing left to try.” Slow to catch on, you didn’t realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.

A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.

“What are you—?”

He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.

“Shhh, trying to sleep.” murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.

Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute ago— your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.

“Your mom is not going to be happy with us.” you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.

“It’s worth it. I’ll happily take the blame,” he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. “I love you…” The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.

“I love you, Miles.”

— extra scene

Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.

Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.

“Well, I coulda told’ya that would happen.” Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.

“Ow!”

Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. “I am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ¡Tu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)” she griped, gesturing towards Miles’ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.

Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. “Why is he only my son when he does something you don’t like? We made him together!”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated 💗

[letstripdotcom]

9:00am- matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: it took a while for you to get used to matt. he was hard to read and could come off as mean. once you got to know him you guys started to become friends. after a long night out matt falls asleep in your bed.

warnings: smut bc you already knowwww

-

“y/n this is matt, matt this is y/n” my best friend nick explains. from what i heard, matt was a pretty cool person and i i was excited to meet him. “hey nice to meet you” i said cheerfully

“hey” he said flatly, giving me a flat smile. he walked off into the kitchen as nick and i got situated on the couch. that was rude. i thought to myself. matt definitely didn’t seem like the person nick had told me about.

after a while, matt had got situated on the couch with us and helped us pick out a movie. once we finally decided on a movie we all liked, we turned of the lights and got comfortable. matt sat on the other end of the couch and i cuddled up next to nick.

after the movie ended we were all hungry. we eventually decided on ihop, since it was the only thing open at this hour of the night. “i’ll drive.” i offered, getting my keys off the hook.

when we got to ihop i found myself trying to make small talk with matt, trying to see the side of him his triplet brothers saw. i eventually gave up on the conversation, feeling it was very one sided. we ate our food in almost pure silence, then left.

“i’m tired so i’m gonna head home. goodnight guys.” i said as we pulled into the driveway. i dropped the boys off and drove home. the whole drive all i could think about was the way matt acted. he definitely wasn’t the sweet guy i heard about.

-

i hung around matt more often, trying to figure him out, but almost seemed impossible. when i would go somewhere with him and his brothers, he would sit quietly and let them do the talking. conversations with him were almost impossible, because he would try to cut them as short as possible

one day i’m particular, you felt like you needed to know more about matt, and why acted the way he did towards you. you thought out what you were gonna say as you sat on the triplets couch.

“hey matt can we talk for a sec?” you whispered, trying to not be a distraction from the movie that was currently playing. “uh- yeah- i- sure” he stuttered, being caught off by your question. you guys got up and went into the kitchen.

you sighed, and decided to just rip off the bandaid. “is there a reason you don’t like me, or…?” you spoke. “what?” he asked. “i don’t know nick just tells me how sweet you are and all so i just get the feeling you don’t like me” he soaked in my words.

“i don’t not like you, it’s just hard” he paused “ you know, meeting new people, it’s hard to- i don’t know” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “sorry” he muttered.

“hey no it’s okay” i said reassuringly. “i didn’t mean to come at you like that. i guess i was just upset.” he smiled at me softly. “you’re cool, y/n and i would like to be your friend.” “yeah of course” i said semi-cheerfully. we went back to the couch and continued the movie.

-

after that day me and matt became much closer. we talked more often and we found out we actually had a lot in common. we both liked to read and write. we had the same music taste, and we disliked the same people.

one night, me and the triplets sat out by my pool and just talked. hours passed as we changed subjects, talking about life, friends, dreams, and anything you could imagine. “ok ladies i’m going to bed.” nick announced.

shortly after, chris got up too. “i actually have somewhere to be, so see you never” neither of us questioned where he might be going at three in the morning, and we continued our conversation.

“hey i’m hungry, wanna hit up ihop?” matt asked. “i’m so glad you said something because i’m starving.” we got in matt’s car and made the drive towards the restaurant. the whole way there was a blast. we blared music through the speakers and laughed about whatever.

we sat in the empty ihop for about an hour, laughing at the dumbest things before we decided the employees were tired of us. we went out to matt’s car and talked for another hour and a half in the ihop parking lot. we eventually got tired and drove back to mine.

we went up to my room, walking quietly past where nick was sleeping in the living room. “wow chris has been gone for a while” i pointed out. “yeah” matt sighed. we talked some more, the time now almost 6 in the morning. i looked at my phone then i looked over at matt who was passed out in my bed. i didn’t bother to move him so i just closed my eyes and went to bed.

at about 7 in the morning i woke up to feel matt’s arms snaked around my waist. i felt a strong sense of comfort like this, but his breathing on my neck made me slightly nervous.

without knowing i fell back asleep, and woke up at around 9, matt’s arms still around me. this time something was a little strange. i adjusted my position slightly, making me feel matt’s hard on. fuck. i sighed trying to go back to sleep and ignore it, but i could tell matt started to wake up.

“you okay matt?” i muttered, half asleep. he groaned and started to grind his hips into my ass, turning me on a little. “fuck y/n please” he whined. “please what?” i teased.

“m’ so hard” he whined “i need you” he placed his hands on my hips and grinded into me harder. “fuckkk feels so good” he whined. even tho i could probably get off to the sounds he was making alone, i decided to do something more.

i turned over, and pulled away, making him whine at the loss of contact. he looked at me with desperate eyes. “do you trust me?” i asked. “mhmm” he nodded frantically.

i threw one leg over him to where i was sitting on his lap. i pulled down his pants and boxers, just enough to release his dick. i took it in my hand and gave it a good squeeze, making him moan. i pumped it up and down a few times.

i then stood up and discarded of the clothes on my bottom half. i sat back down to the position i was in before. i rubbed him up and down my folds. he whined desperately under me. “let me fuck you” he pleaded.

“okay” i said, turning over as we switched positions. he was now on top as i lied under him. he placed sloppy kisses on my collar bone and chest.

he reached down and his thumb came in contact with my clit. he rubbed to slowly in circles. i moaned and threw my head back into the bed. he hit the sweet spot, making me squirm. when he noticed my actions, he rubbed that spot repeatedly til i came.

“fuck so pretty” he sighed, removing my shirt and bra. “ i wanna see all of you when i’m fucking you” he smirked.

without warning, he started to push into me. he gave me time to adjust before ramming into me forcefuly “fuck mattt, someone’s needy” i joked. he didn’t reply and just continued fucking into me.

he got so deep at one point that you can see it poking my stomach. “fuck matt just like that” i yelled, disregarding everyone sleeping downstairs. i gripped his back with my nails, slightly drawing blood.

“fuckkk- feels s-so good. i can feel you clenching pretty girl” he groaned “taking me so well.” i could hear his words forever. he looked down seeing my fucked out expression. “you doing okay baby?” i tried to come up words to answer his question. “mhmmm” is all i could say. he smiled at me and tucked a loose hair behind my hair.

he thrusted a few more times before i reached my orgasm. i breathed heavily, and raked my nails dow on his back, leaving bloody scratches all the way down. “cumming matt f-fuck” i managed to say as i came.

his orgasm wasn’t far behind. his thrusts started to become more sloppy. he whined and his face twisted as he came inside of me. he pulled out, the both of us breathing heavy. “good morning” he smiled. i rolled my eyes and laughed. “sorry bout your back”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n- the end sucks but i liked the majority of it😍

[bluemooniegif]

Soukoku's first meeting could not have been written more perfectly. Allow me to explain

A quick note on the manga panels: these are fan translations from BSD Bibliophile. At one stage they refer to Dazai as 'the youngest boss in Mafia history,' and the executive meeting as 'a meeting of five bosses.' This is just a stylistic choice! All of the panels shown here are from chapters 8 (volume 2), 10 & 11 (volume 3)

I love this scene more than life itself, because it is literally the PERFECT introduction to Chuuya, his character, and his relationship with Dazai. Let's talk about it!

First: some context. Dazai seems to be in a bit of a predicament- he's walked right into a trap set by the Port Mafia, an organisation that we don't know much about at this stage in the story. What we do know, and what we can observe, is this:

Dazai is a former executive, and appears to have walked into the trap on purpose

He is now being held in a room that Akutagawa describes very negatively- the fact of being here is dangerous

Dazai reveals that Akutagawa was once his subordinate, and that he thought very lowly of him at the time. He claims to still think of him this way. Akutagawa has a violent reaction to this.

This is a PERFECT example of 'showing, not telling' within a story. Rather than making a bunch of asides, describing what Dazai and Akutagawa are feeling and why, Asagiri & Harukawa have plopped us into the middle of a rather awkward reunion. I feel like I've walked into my friend's Christmas dinner and am now witnessing family politics unfold real time. It's like watching a car crash.

Now, we move between settings a bit, jumping around to watch Yosano DESTROY Kajii, Atsushi rescue Kyouka, and subsequently be injured and kidnapped by Akutagawa. We watch the Agency fall into disarray when Fukuzawa demands that everyone go looking for Atsushi- interesting, considering that Dazai is IN THE BASEMENT OF THE PORT MAFIA RIGHT NOW.

I've had lots of discussions and arguments about the meaning and significance of this. I won't delve too deep into it for now, but the way I see it is this: something the ADA is really REALLY good at is splitting up Mystery-Inc. style and working to solve cases etc., together, but apart. Dazai is also something of a stray dog (... cat), regularly wandering off and reappearing of his own accord. He's been with the ADA for several years at this point, and they would understand the way he operates well. Even if there's no indication whether he explicitly told anyone what he's doing or where he's going (which honestly, does that matter, when Ranpo would know immediately anyway?), we can safely assume that this is more or less a regular thing for them.

Anyway, back to the point. the Agency is not fazed by Dazai's disappearance... and neither, for some reason, is Dazai. He stands chained to the wall in the PM's basement- the same one, we discover later, where he's brutally tortured countless victims and traitors, and he's humming a little tune to himself, smiling, totally relaxed. We as the audience know he's pretty unflappable, and Akutagawa's expression when he sees him confirms this, too.

But. BUT. This doesn't last.

With the ADA descending into chaos, we switch perspectives back to Dazai again. He's bored at this stage, and thinking to himself that they must be searching for Atsushi soon (an indication that he was riling Akutagawa up earlier, btw) when he hears it: A voice that makes his resolve crack. A look of panic on his face that, at this stage, we haven't seen yet.

He turns, and we see Chuuya for the first time! He's got this strange smug look on his face, something deeply vindictive. Here's a current mafia executive, and he's so happy to see Dazai chained to the wall of their Torture Basement that you can't help but wonder... is there something that Dazai did to him, personally, that makes him feel this way? Or is this guy just so deeply involved with the PM that the fact Dazai left is like a personal slight against him?

Now, we don't really have long enough to truly panic over this predicament, because almost immediately these two fall into their old habits. Dazai isn't PLEASED, but he isn't afraid. He goes right into bantering with Chuuya, who surprisingly meets him right in the middle. Their regular dynamic shines right through: it's quick-witted quips, inside jokes, and knowing looks. It's this odd relaxation in their posture. In all of this, we have an acknowledgement of what they were, and evidence to suggest that they still are... whatever that thing is. Whatever you wanna call it: partners, boyfriends, best friends, buddies. That much is up to interpretation; the only undeniable fact is that they once knew each other better than themselves, and still do.

Then, the fight. This, to me, comes across as more of a way to display how powerful they both are individually: Chuuya punches concrete so hard it shatters in several places, Dazai snaps his fingers and breaks out of handcuffs.

We have front-row seats to what is in my opinion one of the best action sequences in early BSD, not just for what physically transpires, but what it tells us: they deeply understand each other on multiple levels. They're constantly predicting each other's moves, and they know where each other's weak spots are.

But there's also been a lot of growth. Dazai surprises Chuuya a few times, and vice-versa. Despite their apparent closeness, it's still clear that they haven't been together like this for a long, long time.

Then, they reach checkmate. It appears as though Chuuya has won, and we're fed some more Dazai lore- he was the youngest executive the PM ever saw.

This is how Chuuya remembers Dazai. Again, I want to remind you that this is the first time so far we're seeing PM-zai, and he is worlds away from the Dazai we've grown to know so far.

Though Chuuya seems to have driven Dazai into a corner, the roles are quickly reversed when Dazai claims to know something about a meeting between all five of the Mafia's executives. Chuuya quickly realises this is one of his 'predictions,' further proving the depth of their mutual understanding.

With hindsight, we know just how big a deal a meeting of this scale is, and knowing a certain stormbro (who I won't reveal just in case of spoilers) will be there makes me lose my mind, personally. It clearly affects Chuuya, as well, which was undoubtedly Dazai's goal.

With the power balance disrupted again, they quickly fall back into that same bantering dynamic. The volatile nature of their relationship is so perfectly portrayed within this short scene that it actually makes me sick, I genuinely don't think it could have been more perfect

Anyway. Chuuya has realised, at this stage, that Dazai had multiple goals when he allowed himself to be kidnapped, and one of those was to piss Chuuya off (which is something I think he could've managed even if Chuuya wasn't physically there). This, in turn, pisses Chuuya off, especially when he realises the predicament Dazai has left him in- let him escape, or the Mafia suffers. A test of loyalty, Chuuya's greatest weakness. Do you understand why I am tearing my hair out and howling at the moon??? This is fucking insanity.

And then, the final moment! The part we all know and love! Not only does Chuuya choose to err on the side of caution, allowing Dazai to escape- he also leaves with the repetition of another inside joke. And Dazai laughs- he looks genuinely happy, too.

That is all. I'm gonna go cry now ಥ_ಥ

read this original thread on twitter

[waldau-archived]

little things — jeon wonwoo | 1,497 words | fluff

(or, three things that remind you wonwoo's another person like you, and not just one of the most popular idols in the world)

sometimes i shell walnuts for my family because (incoherent sounds) (something akin to peeling an orange for people you love) (they love walnuts more than i do)

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

you know for a fact that jeon wonwoo is a superstar.

he's extremely popular. he travels the world for his work. you're not the only person in the world who has a crush on him or is in love with him. but you are the only person who gets to have him like this — watching him do the dishes while you're sitting on the sink counter and kicking your feet, wearing his hoodie.

you both share your household chores, but he's made sure you don't touch a single spoon or bowl because of all the cooking you do. and you're definitely not going to complain when you get to watch him work, his muscles flexing as he meticulously dries every dish he's washed.

he's currently talking about something mingyu did in practice but you're not really paying attention to his words. you're just...watching him.

he's used to it at this point in your relationship, but he still gets flustered sometimes, like he is now. you can tell by the way his head is bowed and there's a small smile on his face, and there's no doubt he's blushing, if he's going to let you look at him.

"take a picture," he says without looking up. "it'll last longer."

when you don't reply, he looks up to find you staring at him in no doubt a lovesick manner, and you're right. he is blushing, and you're filled with the sudden urge to drag him away from the dishes and kiss him silly.

"did you hear a word i said?"

"no," you say easily, finding no point in trying to act like you were listening. you're more enthralled by the fact that one of the most popular idols in the world is washing dishes in a kitchen he shares with you. dishes that are a result of an impromptu baking session at two in the morning because neither of you could sleep.

it makes you feel small for some reason, so you just scoot closer to where he's standing.

"tell me again?"

wonwoo shakes his head. "mingyu would be happy to tell you—" he cuts himself off with the most uncharacteristic, un-wonwoo sound you've heard in your life. you don't think he's ever made that sound before.

you jump off the counter to witness wonwoo wiggling his arms like those floaty things in car dealerships, like he's got a spider on his arm or something.

you're almost too afraid to ask if it is a spider because it's always wonwoo who chases away the insects in your house, but all he does is show you the sleeves of his sweatshirt. they're wet and dripping water onto the floor. you can't help but let out a little giggle despite trying your best not to.

"it's your fault," wonwoo says, pushing his sleeves up and wincing.

"excuse me?"

"your fault for sitting there and being so pretty. looking at me."

it's not often that wonwoo's what you'd call sappy, especially with his words. you hold his face in your hands, taking in the blush that's deepened when he realizes what he's said out loud. who knew your boyfriend could sing and dance for hours on end and do stuff like bungee jumping only to be defeated by wet sleeves?

"i'll do them if you read me something to sleep."

"deal."

you get startled awake by the sound of a rhythmic tapping. wonwoo isn't next to you, either. your hand reaches out to the most threatening thing you can find to defend yourself with, but you're not sure your bedside lamp is an ideal option.

"wonwoo?" you call out, hoping it's him and no one else.

the tapping sound stops immediately.

"i'm outside," he calls out, and you let out a sigh of relief. slipping into wonwoo's hoodie, you make your way to the living room, the marble floor underneath your feet cold enough to sting.

wonwoo's sitting on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the cold. when he spots you, he opens his arms wordlessly to let you settle down into his lap. he runs cold, just like you do, which gives you all the more reason to cuddle him.

"sorry, sweetheart," he says, kissing your cheek. "i didn't mean to wake you up."

"you didn't," you say, not entirely untruthfully. you'd been half-awake before you heard the sound of whatever he'd been doing in his living room. it's then that you realize there's a hammer next to his feet, a newspaper spread out before him, half filled with...walnuts? the other half of the paper has empty shells.

"what..."

"you said we ran out of walnuts yesterday, so i went to the farmer's market when you were at work. they taste really good. we should go together this week."

"...just because i said the salad could use some walnuts?"

"just because."

you turn to hide your face , blaming the early hours of the morning for all the mushiness you're feeling. your boyfriend, who has practice in a few hours, and needs his sleep more than you do, is sitting on the cold floor of your living room shelling walnuts for your salad like there's nothing else he'd rather do.

"you're too good to me."

"i'm just perfect for you," he grins, and you respond by tousling his hair till it's a mess of your liking. it's not long before you've learned how to shell them without hurting your thumb, wonwoo feeding you a stray walnut every now and then.

wonwoo's gaming setup is grander than you expected one to be. it's probably because you weren't really familiar with gaming apparatus before wonwoo, but it's also probably because he just really loves gaming.

it's not just a gaming pc with a fancy keyboard and the usual gaming chair — it's two huge screens next to each other, lighting underneath the desk and in front of him so it's good for when he needs to stream himself, as well as the usual clutter of his desk. you can tell he's as passionate about it as he is with the important things in his life.

not to mention the little polaroids of you and him, him and his friends, and some cats he's photographed strung up together that came about when he pulled you in one afternoon and asked you to help him decorate the place a bit better.

even though it's not your cup of tea, you really enjoy watching wonwoo game. he knows and likes it just as much as you do. you know wonwoo's down for teaching you whatever game you want to learn whenever the two of you are free, but you'd much rather just watch him be so focused on trying to level up. it's kind of hot, really.

there had been this one time you pulled up a chair to watch wonwoo game with seungcheol, hoshi and vernon. he spent a good chunk of time explaining the rules of the game to the others because they'd never heard of it before, but he lost his train of thought halfway through the game and kept giggling sporadically.

you really had no idea of what had been going on, and wonwoo had to take breaks in between, laughing and explaining the unfortunate situation of vernon blowing up his character again and again, repeatedly promising it was a mistake and not something he was doing for laughs.

after that, wonwoo bought a pair of earphones just so you could listen in on conversations with his friends when it wasn't a professional livestream. hearing hoshi swear repeatedly was just as funny as trying to stop yourself from laughing loud enough to alert the others of your presence.

the thing is, wonwoo's always tried to make space for you in his life in whatever little ways he can, and you're reminded of it when he lets out a soft curse, fumbling with something in his hands.

it's those same earphones you use when you sit with him and watch him play. you haven't gotten the time to use them recently, because of your busy schedules, so it's a pleasant surprise to see them in the outside world, in the walk you're currently on. but they're tangled up so badly that wonwoo isn't able to undo them.

you take them from him with his permission and untangle them quite easily. maybe you should get back to using them more often with him.

"wouldn't headphones be more convenient, though?"

wonwoo looks at you like you've asked him why it's not okay to call yourself a tiger.

"then how am i supposed to listen to music with you?"

oh, you think.

jeon wonwoo might be a superstar. he might travel the world for his work and have people in love with him to some extent, but to you, he's your boyfriend. your wet sleeves-fearing, walnut-shelling, earphones-owning boyfriend. which is simply a lot of words for the best boyfriend in the world.

[runnning-outof-time]

Congratulations, I adore your story!!

Could you please do 23 with angst and then fluff? Thank you so much I appreciate it!💕

Thanks so much for sending this in, anon! I’m so happy you like my stories! I decided to go with Tommy for the character and chose “I don’t want to go.” for the prompt because it was the 5 word #23. I hope you don’t mind that. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

To Keep You Safe

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: season 4 spoilers (like right from the jump), language

Word Count: 1042

Summary: (Y/N) and Tommy discuss the decision to have her go into hiding while the war with the Changrettas rages on.

Things were heating up in the vendetta between the Shelbys and the Changrettas. What both sides thought would be a quick battle had now turned into a full-on war. And after Luca managed to get to Michael in his hospital bed and try to get him to switch sides, Tommy was convinced that no one was safe.

He called a family meeting. He arranged it in the morning and it was set for that evening. The air in the room was so thick with tension that you could practically cut it with a knife. (Y/N) noted that they were currently in the midst of a thunderstorm, which she had a feeling was foreshadowing for what was to be talked about.

And oh boy was she right. Things were quiet between her and Tommy that night. Neither of the two spoke a word to the other before they both went to sleep.

(Y/N) didn’t really sleep much though. No matter how many times she wished it wouldn’t, tomorrow still came.

Soon enough, there was a man in a car sitting outside their Watery Lane home.

“I don’t want to go,” (Y/N) huffed as she crossed her arms. She was aware of how much she sounded like their three year old daughter, but she quite frankly didn’t care.

“You have to, love,” Tommy insisted, not wanting this to turn into something bigger than it had to be.

“Why?” she asked, her one eyebrow quirking upward.

“Don’t fucking start…” he trailed off with a sigh.

“You owe me a reason, Thomas. I’m not just going to be shipped off into the fucking wilderness for no fucking reason,” she harped on, sharing her feelings about the decision that had been made — essentially without her consent — the night prior.

“You know why,” he told her, insisting it was common sense.

“Enlighten me anyway,” she shrugged.

“(Y/N).”

“Tommy.”

“It’s to keep you safe!” he finally came out with it, his voice raising as his eyes went wide, showing the frustration and stress he was currently under. “It’s to keep you fucking safe.”

(Y/N) was taken back by his outburst, but she really should have expected it. She was poking a bear; a powder keg that was bound to explode sooner or later. “You’re keeping me safe here, though. And besides, it was agreed between the both of you: no civilians. No women or children,” she pointed out in a softer voice, recalling the rules of the vendetta that he’d told her a few weeks prior.

“Yeah, I know that was agreed upon,” Tommy started, nodding as a sigh escaped his lips, “but with how things are going…we need to expect everything. And I can’t have you get taken by him or his men as a way to get me. So I need you to go. Just for a little while.”

Silence fell between them as she took a minute to think things over. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Tommy’s side while all of this was going on.

“I don’t want to leave you, Tommy,” was the next thing she said. She couldn’t get through the sentence without choking up, tears brimming up in her eyelids.

Tommy exhaled a breath before he closed the short distance between them, taking her into his arms just as her body began to shake from her sobs. “It’ll just be a little while, love,” he spoke in a soft voice, his chin rested on the top of her head as he rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

They stood like that for a few minutes. (Y/N) had no shame in crying into her husband’s suit coat. She didn’t want to let him go and leave because she was afraid that this would be the last time she’d see him.

“Hey, the car’s waiting outside,” Tommy was the one to speak first. He loosened his hold on her as he did, moving his hands to her shoulders so that he could bring her out at arms length.

“I know,” (Y/N) nodded, sniffling as she wiped her tears away. “I’ll miss you, Tommy,” she added then, looking at him with watery eyes.

“I’ll miss you too, love,” he responded without a second thought, raising one hand to run it down her cheek.

“Make sure you go visit the kids for me…or at least send Pol or someone if you think it’s too risky,” she added, thinking of her children who were currently residing at her parents’ home.

“I will,” he assured her with a nod.

(Y/N) took a moment to look at her husband then, making sure she could commit every part of him to memory. She didn’t know when she’d see him next. Her bottom lip began to quiver as that thought stuck in her mind.

“It’s just a little while,” Tommy repeated what he’d said to her before.

“I know,” she nodded, holding back the tears. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeated the phrase, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. (Y/N) held him there, making their embrace as long as it could possibly be. But eventually she had to pull away, and as she did, she finally decided it was time. “I should go.”

“I’ll come get you when this is finished,” he promised her, their eyes locked as he spoke.

“Just stay alive,” she said to him, sending one last smile her way before they finally broke their embrace so that she could grab her things.

Tommy ushered her outside and made sure she got into the vehicle. He then gave the driver and his accomplice strict instructions on what to do. After sending one last smile to (Y/N), he let them go and headed back inside.

He took two steps away from the door and placed his hands onto the side table sitting there so that he could brace himself as he leaned back against it. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, his family flashing in his mind. Then he released the breath he’d been holding and stared straight ahead. This vendetta would be finished soon, and he’d make damn sure of it.

**tags are in a reblog, so that hopefully the notification gets sent

MASTERLIST

[noneorother]

All the music you didn’t hear: The Good Omens soundtrack is lying to you. *Part 1*

The Bonkers Meta Series part 2: Electric Boogaloo.

I so rarely get a chance to misuse my experience in classical music, but here we are. When I realized on my most recent watch-through of the series that the David Arnold score was brilliant, but also really wonky in some parts and I couldn’t put my finger on why, @embracing-the-ineffable suggested I listen to the album soundtrack to compare.

And when I tell you what I found hidden in there, you’re going to need Eccles cakes...

1) The Song is the Clue

So right up top we have this banger. The 12th track on the album is the orchestral backdrop to the scene in the Job minisode where Aziraphale reveals Crowley’s crow/goats. The duration is 2:22 (the only track with multiples on the album), and if you look at the track by itself it doesn’t mean much. But the song just before it is actually from this fucking scene:

You know, the one where there’s a song that’s a clue to a mystery. Except Clue is capitalised, and Aziraphale pronounces it. I’ve seen guesses that this is a reference to the movie Clue, but I would put a lot of money on the fact that we are supposed to read the title of the song currently playing at that moment in the show *as a Clue*, which is super convenient, because the word Clue is capitalized in the track listing. 

Seems like the overlords of Good Omens have a message for us : The song is the Clue. It’s what God wants. Cool cool cool. WHAT SONG?

2) Symmetry in all things 

Before I straight up tell you, we have to go back and look at season 1.

Now I’m far from the first to notice tons of parallels between the story, details and even lines in both seasons. It got me thinking that maybe there are some fun synch-up parallels between the two season’s soundtracks, seeing as they are both 6 episodes long. Here’s the end of S1 and then S2

Oh that’s a bummer, I thought to myself. 

They don’t even add up to the same number, or playtime, and neither of them is exactly 60 tracks. But do you want to hear a secret? S2 is actually missing 3 tracks on the album. And because there are 2 discs in S2 (cute), the numbers of the tracks start over again from 1. Remember how much God likes sevens? Check out where all the weirdness is happening in disc 2 (I’ve added the missing track listings in red to add context):

After checking each track with the show and listening side by side (for reasons that will become clear in another post) I can definitively say that there is something *very weird* going on at the end of episode 4. 

First is track 7, Zombie dressing room, which seems to actually reach over two distinct scenes of the photo evidence in the dressing room and then Shax in hell even though it only has one title.

But *between* these two scenes we get an eerily silent wine date with Aziraphale & Crowley.

There’s really no music or even sound here besides the dialogue and room tone (until after the cheers), and it seems like a very intentionally silent version of a ritz date from season 1.

My best guess is that we are supposed to divide that track into two tracks of 7, before and after the date to get a second track 7. Or maybe the silent one is missing music? The third track number 7 is the weirdest one. It’s this scene here, when Nina parks her bike, and Aziraphale parks the car at the end of S2E4.

If you take a close listen to the music, it’s a jaunty little piece, with an oom-pah base in 3 ⁄ 4 time. The thing is, this music does not exist in any Good Omens album. Please feel free to correct me, but I’ve tried to find any part of any song that this could even be a reprise of, and I Shazammed it to be sure it wasn’t anything else. This song does not exist anywhere except in this scene. (It quickly morphs into a reprise of the original theme once Nina leaves Aziraphale). It’s an invisible song.

So we have 3 tracks at the end of S2E4: a long one, a silent one and an invisible one. Only one of which is numbered 7, but that all fit into that place in the track listing.

Which, when we add the two extras to the original total of fifty-nine we get... sixty-one! Hey wait a minute.

How are we going to get to 62?

3) The real missing track. 

So the real reason we had to go back to the S1 album was because it contains the missing track that God is talking about. Let’s compare the last tracks on each album.

I’ve highlighted the mismatch between the in-show music and the album in S2, which means I had to add A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square back into the S2 album because guess what, it’s not in the S2 album. Even though it plays in the show. 

You want to know how not in the album it is? Amazon had to track it in the show as a season 1 song. They had to give Tori Amos credit for her song on Good Omens in the X-ray bonus features because that’s how not in the album this song is.

So my fellow beings, if the song is the Clue, then It’s what God Wants.

And if God wants a happily ever after with Aziraphale and Crowley on their own side, then by Job, I think Neil is going to give it to her.

-----------

And there's more where that came from! Part 2 coming shortly.

[strangersteddierthings]

Hey @rustypeopleskillz! I had a lot of fun writing a Jealous!Steve fic, especially since he didn't really understand why he was jealous. I hope you like it!

Here's a little worldbuilding. This takes place in the summer of '87. Jonathan, Nancy and Robin are all in college but have returned to Hawkins for the summer. Argyle has come to visit, too. Robin has resumed her position at Family Video as a summer job.

Written for the @steddiesummerexchange.

-

June 12, 1987

It’s already hot this early in June, and Steve is grateful for the working AC at Family Video. And speaking of Family Video, that reminds Steve.

"You coming over for movies tomorrow?" Steve asks, even though he knows the answer. It's more a formality at this point. They have movie night pretty regularly, Eddie, Robin and himself, now that Robin’s back in town from college. Occasionally they’ll be joined by others, the kids or Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle (always together when they join) but movie night always includes himself, Robin and Eddie.

"Oh, uh, no," Eddie answers, sounding just as surprised by his answer as Steve feels.

"What? Why?" Steve's questions come out accusatory. Eddie's always free for movie night. Hellfire is on Sundays now, and Corroded Coffin meets on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Friday nights have been saved for Steve. Or, well, not Steve but for movie night!

“What are you, the police?” Eddie snorts. He doesn’t answer the questions.

Before Steve can comment on that avoidance, a quiet voice calls out an ‘excuse me’ and Steve has to turn to the register to get back to work. From the corner of his eye, he watches Eddie push off the counter and head towards the back corner of Family Video, where Robin is currently shelving the last of the returns.

The quiet voice that interrupted belongs to a kid, probably Holly’s age, wanting to rent Snow White. Easy enough to ring up, and soon enough the kid’s out the door, heading towards the car parked directly in front of the doors. Steve looks back over his shoulder in the direction Eddie’d gone. Neither he or Robin is visible, so they’re probably caught up in conversation.

Good. Gives Steve some time to think about why he was going to give Eddie the third degree about not making it to movie night. There have been a few times that Eddie didn’t come to movie night before; it’s not like this is the first time it’s happened. All those other times, though, Eddie had told him why. Eddie doesn’t owe him a why, and really Steve has no reason to demand one of him. Steve’s not his keeper.

It just… rubs Steve the wrong way. He doesn’t know why.

When Eddie and Robin rejoin him at the counter, Steve doesn’t bring up movie night again. It’ll still be fun with just Robin. It’s Robin! How can he not have fun with she’s around?

Eddie stays around another half hour before he says he has to go. Once Eddie is backing out of the parking spot, he whips to Robin to ask, “You’re still coming to movie night, right?”

“Duh,” Robin says, looking up from the stack of returns she’s been pretending to process, “unless I’ve got a hot date, and that’s not happening anytime soon, why would I miss it?”

“It could happen, if you’d shoot your shot wi-”

“No. Nope. Not today!” Robin cuts him off with a glare.

He lifts his hands to show he’s defenseless and drops that particular subject for a moment. He’ll have the whole movie night to harass her about her crushes. “Okay, alright. Touchy.”

“Oh, like you were with Eddie about movie night?”

“What, did he immediately go tattle on me!?” Steve says, scandalized. There’s no loyalty here.

“No, but I did hear your immediate grilling of Eddie. You weren’t exactly whispering, and this place is, like, the size of your living room-”

“It is not.”

“-so, no. Eddie did not tattle. He did, however, share what happened the second I asked ‘what was that all about’, so do with that what you will.”

“Oh,” Steve frowns. “Well, did Eddie tell you why he’s not coming?”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to the returns. “No. I didn’t ask because I am not particularly bothered that he can’t make it to one movie night.”

Steve frowns harder. He’s not bothered. Why would he be bothered that Eddie has something else he has to do? Steve’s not his keeper. It’s fine.

Except for how Steve can’t shake the feeling that it’s not fine. He feels some sort of way about it but can’t name it. Definitely a negative feeling of some kind. Maybe worry? Sadness? He’s not sure, but he doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t bring it up the rest of their shift, though, because he knows Robin will ask why this is bothering him so much and Steve won’t have an answer.

June 16, 1987

Steve doesn’t see Eddie again for four days, which Steve thought wasn’t unusual for them. They aren’t attached at the hip friends. That privelege is reserved for Robin. Except now that Steve is thinking about it, he realizes that the only person he sees on the regular besides Robin is Eddie.

Eddie usually comes and spends a majority of his afternoons at Family Video, or he’s hanging out with Steve and Robin at Steve’s house, or inviting them to his for hangouts. Steve and Eddie even hang out alone often enough. Steve will crash at his place after a late night smoke sesh or Eddie will stay with him when the nightmares get too much to deal with alone.

Now that he’s realized how much of his time was taken up with Eddie, he notices how absent Eddie’s been. He can’t even talk about this with Robin because he doesn’t get why he even wants to talk about it! Why it matters so much.

Even back when Steve’s best friends were Tommy and Carol, he’s never felt like this after not seeing either of them for days at a time, and they used to be as attached to each other as he is with Robin now. He doesn’t know what that says about him. Was his friendship with them really that shallow? Or is his friendship with Eddie just that deep?

That seems like the right idea. Eddie went through hell with him and the kids, died for them, and Steve brought him back. It’s not that his previous friendships were shallow, they just weren’t forged the same way.

So, it takes four days for Steve to see Eddie again, and it’s because Steve seeks him out. He couldn’t just pop in, though, because he’s overthought this too much. Even though no one but himself knows the thoughts Steve’s been having, he still feels an embarrassment for them. Which is stupid, he knows, but it doesn’t stop the feeling.

Four days he waits before deciding to check in on Max. See how she’s doing, if she needs a lift to the grocery store or something. A habit formed because her mom is trying to be better, has been since Max was hospitalized, but Susan’s still working two jobs and it doesn’t leave a lot of time to get to the store during the hours it’s open. Steve offered to take Max once, and now it’s an unspoken agreement.

Before knocking on Max’s door, though, he looks down the road to make sure Eddie’s van is parked in its usual spot and it is.

He checks on Max, knowing she doesn’t need anything because Susan did have time to get to the grocery store this week. He knows because he ran into her there yesterday, and thought up this whole convoluted excuse so he can check in on Eddie without seeming like that’s what he’s doing.

Steve is not proud about this. That embarrassed feeling ever present, even now that he’s checked on Max and been quickly shooed away because El is over and they’re having a girls day.

Maybe he should talk to Robin about this. Why is he embarrassed by missing Eddie?

The thought causes him to skip a step as he heads down the road to the Munsons’ new place, which is up the road in the opposite direction of the old Munson trailer from Max’s home.

Oh. He’s missed Eddie, and he’s embarrassed that he’s missed him. Why hadn’t he known that until now?

He really is going to need to talk to Robin after this.

The Munson’s are still in the process of building the porch for this new trailer; it’s just a frame that stretches from the stairs to the end of trailer. It looks like they’re doing everything they can to make this place look like their old one. Or, maybe, they just really like having a porch.

He should ask Wayne if he wants help finishing it next time he sees him.

Steve knocks on the door with three quick raps and doesn’t have to wait long.

The door swings open to reveal Eddie. His hair is pulled up off his neck, which is a familiar look on Eddie by now with the hot Indiana summer.

“Oh!” Eddie looks surprised. “Hey Steve. What brings you here?”

“I was just checking in on Max, and saw your van was here. Thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

Eddie cocks his head to the side and studies Steve for a moment. “Well, if you don’t have anywhere else to be, you wanna hang out for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, possibly to quickly. “I mean, I got time.”

Eddie grins and steps back, out of the doorway so he can enter. Steve toes off his shoes as Eddie breezes past him and to the couch. He must have been watching something on TV because he usually shuts himself away in his room with all his things. (Steve called him a hoarder once and Eddie’d said that just makes him a dragon. At Steve’s blank look, Eddie’d explained that dragons have hoards, typically gold, but that was ‘a bit too rich’ for his blood.)

“What’re we watching?” Steve asks, plopping himself next to Eddie, angled slightly more towards Eddie than the TV.

“I was watching Fire and Ice, but I’m like halfway through. We can find something else.”

“Have you seen it before?” Steve asks, looking at the scene paused on the TV currently. Some animated thing, which is unsurprising. Eddie made him watch an animated Lord of the Rings when Steve gave up on reading the books, and The Black Cauldron just a few weeks ago. Eddie seemed to like animation as much as horror and thriller.

“Several times,” Eddie says. “I own it.”

“Then just tell me what’s happened so far, and the names of people on screen when they appear and I’ll figure it out. Or I won’t,” he adds with a shrug, unbothered about understanding what was happening. If the movie ends up being important enough to Eddie, he’ll see if they have it at Family Video to see the whole thing. Or maybe ask Eddie to invite him over next time he watches.

Eddie laughs and reaches for the remote. He just holds onto it as he explains, “there’s two kingdoms. One of ice, and one of fire. The ice people are evil, the fire ones good. Ice people kidnapped the fire princess, and, uh, the guy in a loincloth is out to save her. Currently he’s stowed away on her brother’s ship as he’s also on the way to save her.”

Ah. Alright. A classic Eddie movie. Fantasy. Magic. A hero, and someone needing saved. Steve nods and waves his hand at the TV in a ‘let’s get on with it’ motion. He’s rewarded with a smile from Eddie before he presses play and settles into the couch.

He watches Eddie much more than he watches the movie. Steve does this most times they watch movies together. He lifts an arm to the back of the couch, bending at the elbow to make a place to place his head, and lounges there. He can see the TV and Eddie’s profile from this position but he ends up watching Eddie’s profile more than the TV.

Eddie’s expressive. Eyebrows going up, mouth opening in shock. Brows furrowing, a scowl when he thinks someone has done something stupid, or a character he hates has come on screen. Laugh lines that come into view. It’s a whole show itself, watching Eddie.

Steve’s got no clue how the movie goes but he watches the very end, if only because he knows as soon as the credits start that Eddie will turn to him for his opinion, and Steve doesn’t want to get caught watching Eddie instead of the movie.

Which is a completely normal thing to worry about.

Perfectly on queue, Eddie turns to him, “so, what did you think?”

Steve turns his own head slowly from the screen to Eddie, takes in his expression. Anticipation for the answer, but Steve thinks Eddie knows that Steve wasn’t paying attention because he looks amused, like he’s asked a trick question. “I think I need to watch it from the beginning.”

Eddie laughs at that, so Steve does, too. They fall into easy conversation after that, chatting for another hour or so until it’s dark and Steve has to leave because he opens tomorrow.

Heading to the door, Steve spots a new leather jacket handing from the little coat rack he’d helped Eddie mount on the wall when the Munsons moved into their new place. He knows the jacket is new, to Eddie anyway, because where the zipper on the sleeve is broken and held together with a chain on Eddie’s old one, this on has a button closure instead.

“Hey, new jacket!” Steve grabs the sleeve, pulling at so he can take a look at the front. Leather jackets aren’t Steve’s style, but he can tell this one looks real nice.

“Oh. No, that’s not mine,” Eddie says. “Jack forgot it in my room, and we know it’ll never see the light of day again if I’d left it there.”

Steve just blinks. “Jack? Who is Jack?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, ushering Steve out the door. “You’re not my only friend, Steve.”

“I know all your other friends,” Steve says dumbly. “Gareth, and Jeff, and Frankie.”

He sees the spark of mischief in Eddie’s eyes before the shit eating grin spreads across his face and he lifts his hands in a ‘what can I say?’ sort of shrug before he says, “Well, you don’t know Jack then.”

Steve groans and Eddie cackles.

June 25, 1987

It takes Steve a few more days and an evening shift with Robin that leads to a sleepover to realize why he can’t stop thinking about the stupid leather jacket hanging up at Eddie’s.

“Okay dingus, what is it?” Robin asks as she locks the front door behind them before toeing her shoes off. Steve is bent down, untying his shoes because he’s not a heathen, so he looks up at her, confusion on his face.

“What is what?”

Robin rolls her eyes like he’s an idiot and puts one hand on her hip to look down at him. “Whatever it is that has you sighing wistfully every five minutes.”

“I am not sighing wistfully,” Steve argues because he’s not. He would know if he was sighing and he’s not. Except as soon as he looks back down at his shoes he does let out a sigh. Shit. Robin’s right. “Okay, guess I am. I just… didn’t know that I was.”

“Well, what’s causing it?”

Steve hesitates, not because he doesn’t want to talk it out with Robin but because he doesn’t know how. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll tell me when you do know?”

“Yeah.”

Their night continues like usual. Steve turns on the radio for background noise, Robin raids his kitchen for snacks, and they lay on the floor in the living room. They complain about the rude customers they dealt with and gossip about the others. Conversation stays light and all the while, Steve is in the back of his mind thinking about that stupid jacket.

“Hey Robs,” Steve says after a quiet has fallen over them. “Did you know Eddie has a friend named Jack?”

“No,” Robin says easily. And Steve supposes it should be an easy thing, to accept that your friend has friends you don’t also have. “Why?”

“He left a jacket at Eddie’s place,” Steve says slowly, still gathering his thoughts. “It was a nice jacket.”

“Uh huh,” Robin agrees, tilting her head a bit to the side, watching him.

“I saw the jacket and thought it was Eddie’s. A new one. But he told me it was Jack’s, and I-I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Or him. Jack. Do you think Jack’s the reason Eddie ditched movie night?”

Robin has the audacity to laugh at him. Just one quick bark of a laugh before she’s covering her mouth with both hands to hold it in. Steve glares at her but she doesn’t even look remorseful for laughing at his problems. Once she’s successfully swallowed her laughter, Robin says, “So, still hung up on that?”

“Robin, I’m being serious right now!”

“About what Steve? You like a jacket that you can’t steal from Eddie because it doesn’t belong to him?”

“No! That Eddie’s got a secret friend who leaves stuff in his room and I’m-” Steve clamps his mouth shut, the unspoken words ringing in his head.

“Oh my God, you’re jealous!” Robin says with too much glee for a woman saying the unspoken bit out loud.

Steve huffs, rolling over onto his stomach to hide his face in his arms. To the carpet he says, “I don’t even know why! I’m not jealous of Eddie’s other friends. Just…”

“Just the one dude you don’t know?”

Steve wants to shrink in on himself but that’s harder to do on the floor than it is curled up on the couch. He settles to tightening his arms around his head. “This is stupid.”

“Yeah, a little,” Robin says lightly, “but Eddie’s your best guy friend and you aren’t used to sharing, spoiled little rich kid that you are.”

“I can share just fine!”

“Not your friends.”

He turns his head, popping out of where he’s hidden to glare at her. “That is not true!”

Robin’s laughing again. “It is! You can’t share friends! You’re only okay with Dustin having other friends because he already had them before being your friend. Same with Eddie and his other friends. But try and bring a new friend in? Nope. Jealousy strikes.”

“That’s- I’m not- I don’t care if other people gets friends that aren’t me.”

She laughs louder before rolling onto her side to look at Steve. “You do to! You were the same way with Tommy and Carol.”

He wants to argue, but really, he doesn’t have an argument. He can’t remember Tommy or Carol trying to bring new friends into their group in school, but also, they’d all gone to the same elementary, middle, and high school. They’d established friendships and cliques early on and at the end of the day, Tommy and Carol had other friends but Steve was their friend and everyone knew it.

Huh.

Maybe he does have a problem with sharing.

“This doesn’t feel the same. I was never- it didn’t feel like this with Tommy and Carol.”

That sobers Robin a little. The laughter drops from her voice when she asks, “well, what does it feel like?”

Steve frowns. “I don’t know. Like… like I’ll lose Eddie.”

“That’s silly,” Robin says, shifting to sit up, cross-legged. “Even if Jack is Eddie’s new best friend, he’ll never have the same bond we all have. You won’t lose Eddie.”

No. He won’t. Robin’s right. The horrors of the Upside Down will forever connect them. This thing that they all will only ever have each other to relate to. But this doesn’t feel like the fear of just losing a friend. It’s something else, but Steve can’t pin down the feeling.

“Yeah,” he agrees, because Robin isn’t wrong. “It is a bit silly.”

July 11, 1987

Steve meets Jack two weeks later. Well, everyone meets Jack two weeks later because in an effort to beat the heat, Dustin showed up in his swim trunks, interrupting Steve and Robin’s first full day off together in weeks, and an hour later Steve’s found himself hosting an impromptu swim party, complete with burgers and hot dogs that Steve ends up in charge of grilling like he’s some dad on the Fourth of July.

(Or, as Robin is apt to remind him, it’s his house and his grill and does he really want to put anyone else in charge of working something with an open flame? Which, no. No he does not.)

Dustin had called and invited the rest of the Party. Will shows up with El, Jonathan, and Argyle. Mike gets a ride from Nancy, who sees what’s happening and asks if it’s okay she crashes the party, too. (Apparently Mike had told her Party Members Only, but once it’s made clear anyone is welcome, Nancy leaves and returns with her swimsuit and several side dishes.)

Max gets a ride from Eddie.

Eddie walks her to the back, “just sayin’ hi.”

“You can stay,” Steve immediately says.

“I got the guys with me,” Eddie says, gesturing vaguely with his hand towards the front of the house.

“No problem. The more, the merrier or whatever,” Steve says, making a circle in the air with his scrubby as he speaks. “I don’t have enough swim trunks for everyone, though.”

Eddie smiles, big and bright and Steve can’t help returning it. “Alright. Awesome. I’ll go ask ‘em if they don’t mind crashing a party.”

Steve hears the answer as Eddie’s van goes quiet instead of the sound of crunching gravel as he leaves, and soon enough all of Corroded Coffin is filing into the backyard along with an unknown dude jammed in the middle of them, chatting with Jeff. Steve knows immediately that Unknown Dude is Jack because he recognizes the leather jacket he’s wearing.

Who wears their leather jacket in the middle of summer?

(Nevermind that Eddie does occasionally. Eddie’s not wearing his right now, though. No, he’s in denim shorts that Steve just knows in his heart where once full jeans and a Judas Priest tank top. The standard summer uniform for him, Steve’s come to know.)

The new group makes the rounds, introducing Jack to everyone as Steve watches from behind the grill. He’s not cooking yet; the grill needed a good cleaning first because it hasn’t been used in God only knows how long.

Jack’s got dirty blonde hair, a length to rival Eddie’s, but pin straight as Steve’s own hair. He’s not a bad looking dude by any means, which Steve feels some sort of way about. Angry, maybe? He’s wearing black jeans, some sort of graphic tee, the stupid leather jacket, and combat boots. Steve can see he wears more rings than Eddie does. It’s entirely too hot to be dressed this way but Jack looks unphased by the heat. Jack doesn’t pass for Eddie’s twin in any way, but they certainly match.

(Steve hates how easily Jack matches Eddie’s aesthetic. He takes in his own Hawaiian printed swim trunks and yellow polo, looking every bit like a Sears catalogue Summer Edition and sticking out amongst all of Eddie’s friends, and everyone else really, for it. (He’d bought both the shirt and swim trunks at Sears, actually, because Robin had pointed out how very ‘him’ them seemed and, well, she wasn’t wrong.))

The grill is now clean and he’s lighting the charcoal by the time the get to him. They’ve lost Gareth to the pool, who took of his shirt, socks, and shoes, and jumped in wearing his jeans, and Frankie to a conversation with Jonathan and Argyle, so it’s just Eddie, Jeff, and Jack who arrive at the grill.

“And this is our glorious and generous host, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says once they come to a stop next to him.

“Hey. I’m Jack Williams,” Jack grins, offering up a hand to shake. Steve takes it and gives it one shake, exactly how his dad taught him to do when meeting business partners. Firm and formal, friendly but distant.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve says because it’s expected for him to say even though he doesn’t think he finds meeting Jack all that nice.

Jack appraises him, then. Jack stands in silence for a moment and he flicks his eyes down, taking in the whole of Steve’s appearance before eyes -blue, Steve sees now that he’s close enough to make out such details- flit about his face. It makes Steve feel like Jack is sizing him up. “I thought thee Steve Harrington would be taller.”

Eddie’s hand swings out, smacking Jack hard on his arm before Steve can even so much as bristle at that. “Dude!”

“I’m just joking!” Jack laugh and Steve hates it. It’s a stupid laugh. “Sorry, Steve. It’s just with all I’ve heard about you I thought I’d be meeting God himself or something.”

Oh. Well. Maybe it’s not that stupid of a laugh. “Really?”

“You have to know you’re Eddie’s favorite subje-” Jack doesn’t get to finish that sentence because Eddie attacks him and Steve has to shoo them away for fear their wrestling will knock over the grill.

Steve doesn’t even get a chance to ask how Eddie and Jack met before Robin’s appearing with the burgers and hot dogs. It’s fine. He’ll ask later. He might not even need to know. It settles something inside him to know that Jack knows about him. That Eddie talks about him to Jack enough for Jack to have constructed a version of Steve in his own head.

He think he’s finally made peace with whatever was going on in his head involving Eddie and Jack’s friendship when he catches the moment that makes his stomach drop.

It’s later in the day, moving onto evening. Everyone is out of the pool but still lounging around it. Steve finally been allowed to remove himself from behind the grill because everyone’s full and they’re out of burgers anyway. Steve is coming back outside, having gone in to grab himself, Eddie and Jack a beer each.

He doesn’t catch what Jack said. Just Eddie’s reaction to it. A reaction he’s never seen Eddie give anyone but him.

Eddie’s face pinkens and he drags a lock of hair in front of his face to hide his immediate smile, only releasing the strand once he’s got his smile under control, wrestled into a closed mouth grin that does nothing to hide his joy. And then. Then Eddie’s face does something Steve has seen a thousand times, but never at this angle. Never at this distance.

Maybe it’s because it’s from this distance and angle that Steve’s able to really see it.

Eddie looks smitten. Infatuated. Lovesick.

Steve feels his stomach drop and his first thought is ‘I’m too late’ which is instantly followed by ‘wait, what? Late for what?’

Forget stomach dropping. Steve feels like the whole floor has dropped out from beneath him and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t be surrounded by all these people who know him too well. If they look at him, if anyone see him, they’ll know. They’ll know what Steve’s just figured out from one second to the next and he can’t- he can’t deal with that.

Somehow he forces his legs to move. It’s like he’s outside his own body as he approaches Eddie and Jack. He hands over the beers he grabbed them and makes some excuse to go back inside. He’s vaguely aware that Eddie takes a single step towards Steve, as if to follow, but Jack stops him with a single brush of the back of his hand to the top of Eddie’s arm and Steve books it.

He’s such an idiot.

His feelings from earlier, from when he was talking to Robin, just click into place. Of course it didn’t feel like the fear of losing a friend.

It feels like how he felt when he realized Nancy had feelings for Jonathan instead of him anymore.

Heartbreak.

Robin finds him on the floor on his bedroom sometime he couldn’t quantify later, wedged between his bed and the wall, still clutching a now room temperature beer can.

“You okay Steve? Been in here a while,” Robin asks in a tone of voice that suggests she knows he’s very much not okay but will let him pretend to be right now if that’s what he needs.

He loves her for it.

“I hate Jack,” Steve says, quiet and flat.

Robin makes a humming noise as she settles on the floor in front of him on her knees.

“I hate Jack because Eddie likes him.”

“Well, we did already discuss your inability to share friends.”

“No. Robin,” Steve says, voice taking on a pleading tone. Begging her to understand without him having to say it. “I hate Jack because Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him, and I think he used to like me the same way, and I hate Jack.”

Robin’s brows furrow before springing up to her hairline. “Oh. Oh! Steve, oh…” and then she’s grabbing for him, tugging and pulling and adjusting until she’s got him in her arms and half in her lap. They don’t say anything else for a while. Robin runs her hands through his hair and Steve clings to her like a child.

Robin leaves briefly to let everyone know Steve’s not feeling good and to lock up behind them when they go.

July 21, 1987

All in all, Steve handles his gay crisis like a champ. Or so says Robin. It’s easier than he thought it would be. He’s had time to process that being queer isn’t wrong, what with having Robin, Eddie, and Will all out to their group and he’s always been good at adjusting to change.

What Steve is handling with considerable less grace (so says Robin) is the pining. His crisis quickly evolved from oh my God I want to kiss a boy to oh my God I’ve missed my chance to kiss Eddie and Robin keeps rolling her eyes about it. Which is rude. She’s being rude.

Even if Steve is driving Robin up a wall with his moping.

“Just tell Eddie you want to kiss him,” she hisses under her breath to his during the overlap of their shifts. She opened and he has to close, but from 4-7 they work together. The store is currently empty, with it being a Tuesday and therefore a slower day. “You’ve never had an issue asking someone out before. You did it all summer at Scoops even though all you did was get rejected! And all last years here, and you didn’t get rejected.”

“This is different!”

“Pretty sure asking out a boy isn’t all that different from asking a girl. There’s only so many ways you can say ‘wanna go to dinner and a movie with me’, y’know?”

Steve groans and drops his head onto the counter by the register. “That’s not what I meant, Robs.”

Robin lets out a world weary sigh and he hears her leaning herself against the counter on the customer side in front of him more than he sees it. “Enlighten me then. What makes this different?”

“Other than you, I’ve never asked out a friend before. And honestly, if I hadn’t still been a little under the effects of whatever we were drugged with, I wouldn’t have. There’s, like, something to actually lose if a friend says no,” Steve mumbles into the countertop.

“Well, Eddie’s not going to say no, but, like, even if he did, he’s not going to stop being your friend,” Robin says and he feels her hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

It’s Steve’s turn to heave a sigh. She’s not wrong. If Eddie’s still into Steve, and Steve’s not convinced he is, then it’ll be the easiest date Steve’s ever set. He asks, Eddie says yes, they go on to live happily ever after or something. What Steve’s more afraid of, the option he thinks it more likely, is that Eddie’s over pining after Straight Steve Harrington and has moved on to Jack of Unknown Sexual Orientation and if Steve asks Eddie out, to dinner and a movie or to the fair at the end of the week or whatever, Eddie will tell him ‘sorry but no. I used to like you but you took too long to catch on and I’m over it now. We can still be friends though’ and Steve will have to say ‘oh, yeah, no of course. Friends is great. Love being just friends’. Then they’ll both avoid each other, Steve to nurse his broken heart and Eddie because that’s just what you do when someone confesses they like you but you don’t feel the same because no matter what anyone says that’s awkward and you’re left feeling a little bit like an asshole for rejecting someone and-

“-eve! Dingus!”

Steve pops up off the counter, pulling himself from his thoughts. “What?”

The look Robin levels him with his decidedly unimpressed. “Whatever you were just imagining isn’t going to happen.”

“You don’t know what I-”

“I know we haven’t actually melded into a single person, but we are the closest thing a pair of humans can get to it. I don’t need to know exactly what you were imagining to know you’re wrong.”

Steve frowns. “What if I’m not?”

“What if you are?” Robin shoves off the counter. “We can have this conversation all day until we’re blue in the face. How about this. You don’t have to ask Eddie out, but at least come out to him. Then you can gauge his reaction. Watch as he lights up with hope or joy or whatever.”

He snorts a laugh at that. “Maybe.”

He spends the rest of his shift thinking about it. It’s a scary idea, saying it outloud to anyone besides Robin, but it’s also not scary. Because he knows it’ll be okay. Three other people in their weird little friend group are out and the world didn’t end. Though, when faced with real life monsters, near death experiences, and the world almost ending, being gay is probably the least of anyone’s concerns.

Midnight finally rolls around and Steve closes down the store. He’s going to sleep on it, but he thinks he is going to come out to Eddie. Even if nothing comes from it, even if Steve’s left pining forever, at least it might be nice to just let Eddie know. Queer Solidification, or whatever the word is that Robin uses.

July 23, 1987

Once again, Steve turns up at Eddie’s place unannounced. There’s a motorcycle parked out front of the trailer and Steve just knows it belongs to Jack.

He should have called. Made sure Eddie was here alone before coming over. He’s okay with coming out to Eddie, but not Jack, too.

Even so, he parks along the motorcycle. Turns the car off. Sits in it for another ten minutes, waffling between leaving and staying before finally unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing from the car. He’s going to do this tonight. Robin leaves back to Chicago for school mid-August and if this goes the way he thinks it will, he’s going to need all that time with her before she leaves.

Might also need the time between now and then to search for apartments to follow her there so he doesn’t have to stay here in his humiliation.

The porch is complete now. Steve never got around to telling Wayne he’d help with it. Too late now.

Steve pulls the screen door open, stepping in front of it so his body keeps it out of the way.

Knock knock knock.

Three quick hits to the door and he waits. He’s doing this.

The door opens just enough for Eddie to peak around. He looks a bit on edge at first, then his face smooths into an easy smile when he sees it’s Steve. “Oh, hey. Checking on Max again?”

“Uh, no. Here for you, actually. If that’s okay?”

“Um. One second,” Eddie says, closing the door again. Steve feels like his stomach is trying to climb up his throat. God, what if Eddie can’t talk tonight? Steve might just start looking for apartments anyway. Better safe than sorry.

An eternity (less than a minute) later, Eddie opens the door again, this time all the way. Steve steps inside before he really thinks about it. It smells like weed in here, so Steve knows what they were up to before he knocked.

He doesn’t want to have the conversation outside where anyone can overhear, but he doesn’t want to have it in front of Jack either. Jack, and the other stranger on the couch next to him.

Fuck.

“This is Steve,” Eddie introduces. “You know Jack. This is Lee.”

Lee is sat on the couch next to Jack, leaned against the armrest. He’s dressed like a toned down version of Jack. Still in dark clothes, but considerably less accessories. He’s handsome, too, with a rounder face and almond-shaped dark eyes.

“Hi,” Steve says.

“Hey,” Jack and Lee say at the same time, with Jack lifting a hand in greeting.

Eddie takes a step towards the couch, probably to plop down in the spot he was previously in, but Steve shoots a hand out to grab Eddie’s arm and halt his movement.

“Um. I actually. I just came to tell you something.”

“Well, alright. Shoot,” Eddie says.

Steve looks to the strangers on the couch before looking back to Eddie. “Privately.”

Eddie frowns, just for a moment, before his face smooths over and he shrugs. “Alright. We’ll be back out shortly,” he tells Jack and Lee before pulling his arm from Steve’s grasp to head down the hall to his bedroom.

Steve shuffles after, feeling awkward suddenly.

Eddie pushes the door open, then stands in the doorway like he’s holding it for Steve. Steve squeezes by him, his entire arm brushing against Eddie’s chest and stomach and just that little contact makes Steve’s stomach swoop.

Jesus Christ he’s got it bad, doesn’t he? How hadn’t he known that he had a crush on Eddie until recently? How had he been so blind?

The door clicks closed.

“So, what is it Steve?”

Steve stands in the middle of Eddie’s room. It’s messy, but not to dirty. There are clothes scattered about, and clutter on every surface, but Steve knows that Eddie knows where everything is. That if Steve knew what to ask for, Eddie would know where to find it in the chaos.

“I- um. Wow. This is harder than I thought it’d be,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair as he turns to look at Eddie. Which is a mistake. Looking at Eddie isn’t going to make this easier. Not now that he knows he wants to cup his face, and kiss those plush lips, and run his fingers through his hair.

Eddie’s so fucking hot and once again, Steve’s left to wonder how he missed it.

“What is? You okay, dude?” Eddie asks, taking just one step closer. Like he wants to comfort Steve even when he doesn’t know what he’d be comforting Steve for.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Um. Kinda fucking scared but not- uh, not in a bad way?”

That gets a little laugh out of Eddie, and it’s wonderful. Eddie has a wonderful laugh. Why did it take him so long to realize?

“Scared but not in the bad way, huh. Like when you watch a horror movie or go to a haunted house?”

“No. No. More… more like making a big life decision.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, blinking at him before his brows pinch together and he looks down, eyes on the floor instead of Steve’s face. It makes Steve feel like he can take a deep breath for the first time since enter Eddie’s room.

There’s a noise from beyond the door; it makes Steve jump. Eddie turns to look over his shoulder, like he’ll get x-ray vision and be able to see what made the noise through his own closed door. “I think they went to the porch for a cigarette.”

“Oh. Okay. Um. How- How did you meet Jack and Lee?” Steve asks, which isn’t what he came here to learn but the question has been plaguing him since he learned of Jack’s existence.

Eddie shifts. Uncomfortable. “At a bar in Indy. Why?”

Steve shrugs. “I was just curious. We didn’t go to school with either of them so you know…”

“No. I don’t know. Steve, what did you come here to tell me?” Eddie sighs, like he’s already had a full conversation with Steve in his head and didn’t like the outcome. Steve hates that he can’t just understand Eddie the same way he can Robin. Eddie is a mystery.

Eddie is a mystery, and Steve doesn’t want him to be. He wants Eddie to tell him everything about himself. Every little secret he keeps. And he wants to do the same. He wants Eddie to know everything there is to know about him, even if Steve isn’t sure there’s a whole lot to know about him.

God. Robin’s right, as usually. Steve’s not just going to come out to him. He’s going to tell Eddie he likes him.

“Right. Yeah. Umm, so. So it’s like this. You missed movie night at the beginning of June and-”

“What!?” Eddie sounds amused and offended, and Steve ignores him.

“-and like, ever since then we’ve been hanging out less and less. And like, that’s fine. You have your own friends, like a whole other life that doesn’t include me, and that’s fine. Great even. But, like. Okay. So, I dropped in unannounced and learned you had a new friend that I didn’t even know existed. Which is, like, normal. I’m not your keeper, I don’t need to know every little thing about you.” Steve is pacing in Eddie’s room and Eddie is looking at him like he’s gone insane, but he kind of feels insane right now so that’s fine.

“But, here’s the thing. You told me that jacket belonged to someone else and I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it! That you had a friend who I didn’t know that was a close enough friend to leave things in your room and I just… Robin says I’m not good at sharing my friends. That it’s fine if I make friends and that friend already comes with other friends. But if that friend makes a new friend, that I’m not good at sharing. Does that make sense?”

When Steve turns to look at Eddie again, because he’s turned away in his pacing, Eddie has leans back against the door. Seems to be using it for support as he stares at Steve, eyes wide and confused. “No. Absolutely nothing you’ve said has made sense yet. Continue.”

“Oh. Um. Anyway, Robin told me I wasn’t good at sharing and she’s right. Because she’s always fucking right, and I was jealous. I knew I was, but it wasn’t, wasn’t until recently that I understood why. Because it didn’t feel the same. I didn’t feel jealous the same way I felt jealous when Robin told me about the friends she made in college, or back in high school with Tommy or Carol hung out with someone else,” Steve pauses, licking his lips nervously. “It felt like… like the night I saw Nancy and Jonathan together, back in junior year when Nancy and I were still dating. It felt like. Like that kind of jealousy.”

Eddie sucks in a breath but doesn’t speak, and Steve can’t seem to stop speaking, so he continues.

“Then I met Jack and he’s like fucking perfect. Fits right in with your friends and your look and he probably likes all the same shit you do and I don’t but I want- I don’t fit in and I can’t really stand how loud metal music is and I really don’t want to play your nerd game and I don’t match you, not like- not like Jack does but I saw you look at him, and it was the same way you used to look at me and I didn’t see if then, but I do know and I know this is kind of shitty. To not realize until you’ve already, like, moved on or something, and-”

“I haven’t,” Eddie speaks up and Steve’s attention snaps to him. Eddie’s looking at him with awe on his face and with disbelief in his voice. “Moved on. I haven’t. If you’re, holy shit, if you’re hear to say what I think -hope- you are, based on this absolute Robin Moment you’re having with your words.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. Not now that Eddie’s interrupted. It was an absolute Robin Moment and she’s going to die laughing when he tells her about it, but he’s not thinking about Robin right now because it sounds like- it sounds like he’s not too late. “I- Eddie.”

Eddie shoves off his door and takes a step closer to Steve. “Steve. What did you come here to tell me?”

“That, that I’m like- that I like you,” Steve says, even though when he’s started that sentence he’d wanted to say he was some kind of gay. Half gay or something. “I like you, and I want to take you on a date.”

“Holy shit. Shit,” Eddie looks startled, even though Steve’s sure he already drew that conclusion in his mind. But thinking it and hearing it are very different. Eddie closes the distance between them but hesitates to actually reach out. “Shit, Steve. Like a real date?”

“Are there fake ones?” Steve asks, amused.

Eddie grins, shy, “yeah. I’ll let you take me on a date.”

He reaches out, placing a hand on Eddie’s hip and the other on his cheek. In a fit of bravery that surprises himself, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie nods and keeps nodding his head even as the distance between them closes, like he can’t help himself or stop. Not until their lips touch.

Kissing is kissing, Steve realizes. Kissing Eddie is no different from kissing a girl except that because it’s Eddie and that makes Steve want it all the more. Eddie’s lips are chapped and kind of shredded because he chews on his bottom lip, but Steve doesn’t give a fuck. Not when Eddie melts against him, into the kiss. Not when he finally touches Steve back, arms wrapping around him to pull him as close as possible.

They don’t pull apart until they’re out of breath.

“Is this real? I’m not hallucinating, right? The weed we smoked wasn’t laced with anything, I thought, but-”

“It’s a shared hallucination if you are,” Steve laughs.

“I can’t believe you were envious of Jack.”

“Jealous.”

“Semantics.”

Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him, and kissed him, and he’s agreed to a date.

Later, they’ll slink back out to join Jack and Lee. Steve will learn to tolerate Jack (as much as he can knowing that Eddie used to or might still have a crush on the guy) and find that he does enjoy Lee’s company. (Later that night, he’ll learn he never needed to worry. Jack and Lee have been a couple since they were both fourteen.)

And later still, he’ll take Eddie on a date to the fair, disguised as a group outing.

Robin is smug the whole time, but Steve doesn’t care because Eddie kisses him behind the Funhouse while she plays lookout.

[ganondoodle]

was at my sisters house to watch the cats a bit and played some botw again after a long time, spent an hour running around phirone (faron) and checking out all the cool sonau (zonai) stuff and i felt a wave of sadness wash over me, those ruins there feel so ... heavy with story, with sadness of tragedy, with the thrill of the unkown, yet its revealed to be nothing in totk, i honestly dont feel like the sonau of botw and of totk are at all releated tbh, theres like, NO design overlap besides sometimes some dragon-like figures that feel more like they put them into totk just to have some connection at all-

the botw sonau ruins are all full of curves hewn into dark stone with red accents, theres swirls and snakes everywhere, appropriately withered by time and weather- it was already a stupid idea to replace the shiekah tech with literally another ancient highly advanced civilaztion, but then to not even make them look or feel at all connected to the little things that were there?? totk sonau is white stone and gold and green, its all extremely angular and clean cut, together with weird hologram shit that reads, somehow, as both unfittingly techy to everything else while also neither mechnical nor magical

its fucking bonkers, i know they put some totk sonau bullshit into some of the ruins in totk, like the main ones in phirone but like, especially in that case with the direct comparison its so jarring and artificial, and i hate the excuse of "hylians built those different looking buildings as a monument to the sonau", like we needed more shitty excuses for bad writing decisions- the ancient AND current hylian stuff aligns more with totk sonau stuff, why would they adopt a completely different style to built shit around actual sonau stuff that somehow also looks like it was abandoned like, 50 years, 100 years ago, not over TEN THOUSAND years ago, both the botw sonau ruins and the shiekah tech look more ancient than anything totk sonau

and what for??? i imagine more botw sonau style ruins and like, thats entirely possible, why make it sth utterly different and give it a shitty excuse?? its so unnecessary?? like okay make the wheels out of withered stone hanging together like clumps by invisible magic like how the iwaroks (the .. stone enemy) works- i still would like it sicne i dont like the whole building thing in botws world, but at least it would feel like truly magic bs and fit into the design of botw sonau (even though im still not over NOTHING ever hinting that they were one step away from spaceships hologram aliens, the refusal to work with the stuff they themselves have put into their games drives me up a wall, YOU PUT IT THERE! DO SOMETHIGN WITH IT!)

just to put some modern tech into it? was it worth it?? (no)- and there i could even go on about how much i hate the 'tech' design too, its too little mechanical to be called 'tech' but too modern tech like to call it 'magic', (a balance which the shiekah tech did tremendously well imo) i keep being impressed with how conflicting and incoherent design and story can be in this one single overpriced game

(the reason them making it so modern techy looking was so players would immediately know what it was apparently and i just ... doesnt that make it more boring? like instead of the shiekah stone(slate) they just put a flip phone with numbered buttons and all and give it a vaguely stone texture? instead of like, a guardian with its spider legs and strange creepy design, just put a fucking tank there??? (and like, in a way i feel like the fact that they still tried to not make it look too modern by putting that green texture on it and like, a face here and there, makes it WORSE, a bad cover up is worse to me than none at all, like a shitty explanation can make sth worse than no explanation at all *ahem* literally every interview they did >:C )

also i dont know how you could even design a fan so it doesnt look like a fan? you dont need to put in literal car wheels with suspension and all in there to make it clear its a wheel bc how would you even design a wheel so it doesnt read like a wheel???

since when did they get so anxious about players not understanding something?? the whole series was built on puzzles of varying difficulty, whats with the sudden loss in trust in the player?? botw was already pretty easy but in totk the whole game treats you like you cant think or remember sth for more than 30 seconds to the point it gets actively agonizing to play through- the same two sentences of unimportant info repeated and shown to your face over and over, both in story and gameplay- and even with their immediately readable design choices for the sonau 'tech' they made half teh shrines either sloggingly slow tutorials or one puzzle shrines that are dedicated to teach you how the obvious thing works when you really learn it all on the literal tutorial island AND its obvious from the start BECAUSE THEY WANTED IT TO BE OBVIOUS!! its fun to figure things out and try stuff, its no fun to have a step by step guide glued to your forehead at all times especially when its so obvious, yes thanks for teaching me that a literal fire hydrant spits out water!! wow! never thought about that! thanks for telling me it 5 times too!! (even if it annoys me that they can just do that when not connected to the ground .. would have been more fun to make puzzle with if they were,,), its part of why i felt like the game was so condescending or outright laughing at me-

why even try to teach me how a fan works over and over when like, there arent even any creative things you can do with it in a reasonable amount of time and its never needed or incentivised either bc the game just hands you the literal solution or at the very least give you the four parts or what that you need to make what you need, like pulling apart two bricks of baby lego in fornt of a toddler to see if they can put them back together once you hand it to them

and dont come at me with the "its for kids" argument, the old games were too and theres alot of stages of 'kid', they arent stupid either and nintendo should know that they have alot of adult fans too, it doesnt need to be dark souls and its allowed to have easy stuff in there but the fact that it never gets any more challenging is the problem, yes part of the fun in games can be making your own rules and messing around but it really shouldnt be controversial to want a 70 bucks game to offer a fun experience without you having to make it fun all on your own (i for one dont enjoy spending 30 minutes glueing togehter a tank with ear shattering lasers just to inefficiently beat up 3 bokblins i could just swing my sword at for a few seconds instead and are not worth the materials spend anyway)

in the end it would have been less immersion breaking and more fun if they straight up put a honda civic into the game you can summon anywhere at no cost (hmmmm where did they just do it before hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm) and transforms like a batmobile to fly around in rather than the weird sonau nuts and bolts hassle you have to put up with, costs stuff, can waste hours of your time and despawn as soon as you look away from it unless you want to make le funny tiktok videos i guess

its such a waste too bc the mechanic itself IS impressive, but its utterly missplaced in this game, it would have needed its own, truly own, game built around it, placing it in botws world is like dumping a bunch of knock off brand toys into a world that felt believable and meaningful turning it to feel like its really just a game for you to mess around in, never has a game felt more gamey to me and it SUCKS to have that magic pulled away like that, silly me for letting them make me care about it i guess

maybe its petty but as someone how really cares alot about design stuff, both visually and gameplay wise, it makes me furious to think about (as you can tell) .. also hyperfixation go brrrrrrr

(this is obviously my view on it, writing this to get it out, not to argue, i believe i have heard all the arguments already anyway and by this point all that is left is just insulting me directly lol)

[sunny44]

What about us? (Part 2)

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of the 2021 season and retirement

Summary: You and Lewis decide the future of yours relationship.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Days passed since Harley's birthday and she was still ecstatic even after several days. Lewis and I navigated the delicate balance of co-parenting, silently grappling with the underlying currents of our shared history.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the Monaco horizon, I found Lewis standing on the balcony of my apartment, gazing into the distance. The weight of his unspoken struggles hung in the air.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked, stepping outside. He turned to me, a mix of emotions flickering in his eyes.

"Sure."

We stood in companionable silence, appreciating the illuminated city below us. Finally, he broke the quietude.

"I've been thinking a lot about what Angela said, about missing having a family." I nodded, sensing the vulnerability in his words.

"Lewis, we've been through a lot and whatever decision you make about your career or life, Harley and I will be here for you." He sighed, shoulders relaxing a fraction.

"I appreciate that. It's just... Formula 1 has been my world for so long, and I'm at a point where I question if it's still where I belong." I placed a hand on his arm, offering comfort.

"Sometimes change is necessary. If you decide to step away, we'll support you. What matters for us is your well-being." He nodded, a hint of gratitude in his eyes.

"I'm so lucky to have you both."

“Harley and I are lucky to have you in our lives.”

The following weeks brought more heart-to-heart conversations, a tentative exploration of what the future might hold. As the Monaco Grand Prix approached, Lewis faced the track with a newfound perspective.

Race day arrived and I found myself watching from the stands, Harley's eyes gleaming with excitement. She was passionate about this world, and her favorite part was watching her father on the tracks. Lewis's car roared down the circuit, and she cheered excitedly, pointing to the black Mercedes and then to Uncle Max’s Redbull car.

In an unexpected turn of events, Lewis clinched victory, reclaiming his place on the podium. The cheers of the crowd echoed through the principality.

After the race, Lewis joined us, a mix of exhaustion and elation on his face. Harley hugged him tightly, and he looked at me with a genuine smile. Perhaps, in that moment, he found a piece of the joy that had been missing since that championship in 2021.

As the celebrations unfolded, I couldn't help but wonder where our journey would lead. I had thought a lot about us since Harley's birthday, and I would be lying if I said I didn't miss him, because I did, a lot.

I missed waking up, and he was the first person I saw in the morning, sharing the small victories of our lives and being the three of us together as a family.

"She's asleep," he said, appearing in his apartment's kitchen. We came here after the race.

"She didn't take an afternoon nap, so it was expected," I said, handing him a cup of tea. "I've been thinking."

"About?" he asks after taking a sip of his tea.

"About us." Immediately, he puts the cup on the counter, and I do the same.

"And?"

"I know it's been a while since we broke up, and I believe the reason we ended things was genuine, and I truly think we needed to step back then, but..." I took a deep breath.

"But?"

"But I never wanted us to end things that way."

"Me neither; that was certainly a year of losses for me, and Harley definitely saved me."

"I know, but I don't want to live like this anymore."

"Like what?"

"Separated." I could see his eyes light up. "I want her to have stability, to know that we'll always be here for her, and I also need you here whenever you can."

"You want to get back together with me?"

"Yes. Unless you don't want to."

"That's what I want the most since you told me you were pregnant." He says getting closer. "I love you, I never stopped loving you and I want to spend the rest of our lives together."

"That's good because I love you too." He smiles, and we kiss.

And it was exactly as if we were kissing for the first time again, the feeling of butterflies and happiness was the same.

"Come on, let's finish our tea in bed." We grabbed our cups and went to his bedroom.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Monaco days in family”

tagged:@lewishamilton

Tag list: @ironmaiden1313 @myloverjk-blog @leoramage @magicalfundragon

[aziraphales-library]

I know y’all are super busy but I really need season 2 fics. I’m ugly crying rn

You haven't said if you want to feel better or worse, so here are some of the currently most-kudos series two fics...

I Wanna Fade Away with You by kademeow (G)

Aziraphale realizes, after entering the lift with the Metatron, that Heaven doesn’t have what he wants, or needs, at all.

How's the View by Etheostoma (T)

“May I come in?” Crowley blinked. “No,” he declared, and slammed the door in Aziraphale’s face. He slunk away away from his apartment door and snatched the half-full glass of merlot he had left atop one of his plant stands, downing the entire thing in one gulp. “May I come in?” he mimicked, scrunching up his nose and raising his voice. “No you bloody well may not,” he yelled at the door, before dropping the glass to shatter across the unforgiving concrete floor.

I do love nothing in the world so well as you by elf_on_the_shelf (E)

My take on the S2 fix it. I honestly think that Neil will fix it in S3 but that will be a while and I am sad rn. So basically, here goes: Someone criticises Crowley in Heaven and Aziraphale has had just enough of that to be honest so he decides that maybe - maaaaaaaaybe - it would be better for everyone for him just to return to Earth and to his demon. Obviously - Season 2 spoilers - like...all of them.

tales from a bookshop by Rizandace (T)

Post-season-two. Crowley's moping, Aziraphale wants to fix things, and turns out, there's enough blame to go around. ----- “You’re being ridiculous.” Crowley very nearly falls over. Like, actually. He very nearly loses balance for no reason at all and tumbles to the sidewalk next to his car. He’s been playing Aziraphale’s voice in his head for weeks, he’s been trying very hard to drown out the sound of it, in fact, and now suddenly, abruptly— “What are you doing here,” is all he can think to say. He whirls around, and there he is. on Crowley’s right, standing there like he’d never left. Where he belongs, Crowley’s mind helpfully supplies. He wishes he could punch himself in the brain, knock the thoughts right on out of there.

May You Be Forgiven by Haydenn11 (E)

I forgive you. Satan, he was an idiot. How could he think his wasted heart would ever compare to Heaven asking Aziraphale back with open arms, as Supreme Archangel, no less? Crowley never stood a chance. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to dash across the street and into the celestial elevator with Azriaphale, principals be damned, or blessed? But, Crowley couldn’t go back. He wouldn’t. He had at least that much self-respect left. He’d never belong in Heaven; he could never be happy there. And neither could Aziraphale, but his stupid, stubborn angel never could reconcile that fact. ___ After the events of episode six of GO2, Crowley must learn to live without Aziraphale and Aziraphale must navigate his new life as Supreme Archangel of Heaven.

But You, My Dear, Are An Ocean by megzseattle (T)

After Aziraphale's defection, Crowley tries to figure out how to live life for himself.

- Mod D

[koolades-world]

happy father's day!

i actually wasn't going to make a special post until i actually made a very telling connection just yesterday morning. i think the reason i just adore dadcifer is because lucifer reminds me so much of my own dad. they can both seem so cold and unapproachable from the outside, but actually is so thoughtful and cares a lot about those they love. they both have a secret love of animals, would do anything for their family, and are very protective of them. they're both secretly softies for their children (or brothers in luci's case) and as i (or the brothers) start to age, i realized just how much he did for me in the past

my father injured his back pretty bad in a car accident when i was little, but he still continue and did his best to my dad despite that, and still made it to every single one of my award ceremonies and games on top of all his work. he couldn't do things he did before, like piggy back rides and anything that involved sitting on the ground and while that's certainly not on the same level as what lucifer experienced during the fall, i feel as if it may be comparable to the loss of one pair of his wings and the symbolism of it all. through all that lucifer still got himself together and continued to be what his brothers needed him to be.

sorry for really rambling there, but my dad really is one of the the reasons i pick myself whenever i fall, and making this connection has caused me to treasure lucifer like i hadn't before

i hope for the love of god you never find this, but this one was written with you in mind, dad. thank you for everything and i love you <33

Dadcifer

Lucifer was at his desk, trying to complete paperwork. He'd made excellent progress in the past few hours, and he hadn't even realized that much time had passed. He wasn't having a bad day, per say, but it was just another monotonous day. But, it wasn't done yet. If he could keep up at the rate he was currently working at, he thought he could be finished a little earlier than he usually was.

Absentmindedly, he reach for the next paper, but he felt his heart drop a little when his hand past through where the pile should have been and met the table. He turned to look to see if maybe he'd just missed the papers, but all the papers were gone. Thinking he might have accidently knocked them all on the floor, he stood up and leant as far over he could over his desk. But, they were nowhere to be found. He decided to double check that his other papers were where he'd left them, but to his surprise, found not a single paper on his desk.

Lucifer began to grow frustrated. He didn't know how his papers suddenly vanishing was possible. He knew his brothers must've had something to do with it. They always did. He had no new messages on his phone, so with a sigh, he decided to go see what they were doing.

He could hear Mammon and Levi bickering in what he presumed was the living room. That was a problem he'd have to solve before it got out of hand again. While he'd like to prioritize his missing work, making sure the house didn't burn again down took precedence. He was in no hurry though. He wasn't eager to break up yet another fight between his brothers, but it always fell on him to do it anyways.

However, to his surprise, neither Mammon nor Levi was in sight. Before he could digest what he was seeing, he heard seven voices yell in unison, "Happy Father's Day!" To both his right and left, a party popper was set off, showering him in confetti in every color of the rainbow. After he got past the initial shock, he saw a simple, but well thought out set up. A banner was stung above the fireplace that said 'Happy Father's Day' and while it wasn't exactly even, he could tell it was done carefully. Streams adorned the walls and the light fixtures, and some balloons sat in a couple corners of the room. A large pile of presents and a large card sat on the coffee table.

"What is this all about?" Lucifer shook off some of the confetti to see that it was Mammon and Levi who'd covered him in it.

"It's a celebration for you, of course!" Mc was in the center of the group of the remaining brothers. Beel and Asmo had large grins on their faces, and while Belphie and Satan looked less thrilled, they looked as if they were trying to appear that way.

"Why?" He questioned. He raised an eyebrow at all the decor.

"You do so much for all of us. We figured it'd be fitting to celebrate a human holiday known as Father's Day. It's when the people in the life of father, or father figure, celebrate them for just that reason. You call them your brothers, but you might as well be their dad considering how much you care for them." Mc told him. They didn't mention that he could actually be considered a father, but it was probably best that way to avoid setting off Satan. "You've done a lot for me too. Even though I wasn't part of this family to begin with, you welcomed me in just like I had been. You've supported me through so much, and we all agreed we should celebrate you for this." Mc held out a bundle of flowers to him. Lucifer took them, studying them. Before he could get out another word, they fiercely hugged him. His other brothers took this as their signal to join, mobbing him in their embrace.

Lucifer almost felt as if he could cry. They'd gone out of their way to set up everything for him, including an abundance of gifts. Considering his birthday was at the beginning of that month, he was both surprised and impressed. "I don't know what to say. Thank you." He was honored. Everyone backed up after a minute or so of the embrace, seemingly with something else up their sleeves.

"We have one more thing for you!" Asmo exclaimed, clapping his hands giddily. Mc looked as if they were concentrating, and slowly, a cake levitated into view which Mammon quickly intercepted and extended towards Lucifer. It had a couple candles in it, and it had the name of the holiday on it. Each letter was in a different color and appeared like they were all written by different people. Some letters were very prim, while others were rough at best. Besides that, everything else seemed professionally done.

"Luke helped us bake and decorate this cake, but we each put on a letter or two of the message." Mc explained. With a wave of his hands, Satan lit the candles. Everyone gathered around Lucifer and Mammon, waiting for his response. He sighed again, but this time, it was one of happiness. He blew out the candles, causing the group to begin cheering. From behind him, Beel placed a headband of some kind on Lucifer's head.

"Now everybody knows you're a dad." Beel smiled.

"The only reason the others aren't here is because they're currently celebrating Simeon and Barbatos for Father's Day too." Mc had Mammon place the cake on the table so they could cut it.

"That explains why Luke was the one who helped you." Lucifer nodded.

"Now, get over here, silly. You have presents to open." Mc waved him over to sit down. They lent towards him to whisper. "Just so you know, this was Satan's idea." They could hardly contain their laughter, which Lucifer matched with a smile that rarely graced his face. As much trouble as his brothers caused, and sometimes Mc too, he was eternally grateful for all of them. He couldn't have asked for a better family.

[theemporium]

🐈‍⬛ i don’t have a specific request but I can’t get the phrase “don’t hex and drive” out of my head. maybe driver reader who’s witchy and starts cursing anyone who’s rude to her boys right before a race sksjsks

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“What a bunch of little c—”

“Amor, it’s fine.”

You snapped your head around, your eyes narrowing at your boyfriend sitting on the couch. “No, Carlos. No, it’s not.” 

He sighed. “No, but I need you to calm down before you do something stupid.” 

You almost wanted to scoff at him. 

It was ridiculous. It was ridiculous that such a historical and iconic team could make Formula Two teams and lower leagues look like saints. It was ridiculous that you had to watch your boys suffer through mistakes and situations that weren’t their fault. It was ridiculous that just when you thought Ferrari couldn’t fuck up anymore, they always seemed to find a way.

And it was ridiculous the way your boys had been conditioned by their own team to deal with it. 

And maybe you should have been glad that such a fierce competitor was no longer such, but you couldn’t care less about that when it was the loves of your life who were suffering. You didn’t care if it made your races easier. You didn’t care when it was chipping away at the men you love and making them shells of who they were at the start of the reason. 

“They need to get a grip of themselves,” you said bluntly, your brows furrowed together as you glared at the prancing horse logo on the wall of Charles’ driver room.

“Yes, but Carlos is right,” Charles said as he reached his arm out to tug you closer, to pull you down on the couch that both boys were currently sitting on. He nuzzled you to sit between them, squished between both Ferrari drivers who just looked exhausted. “When you get angry, you don’t think clearly.”

“I’m thinking very clearly right now,” you retorted as you crossed your arms over your chest with a huff. “And what I’m thinking is that everyone on that pit wall can enjoy my foot up their—”

“And there she is,” Carlos murmured, though his tone was light-hearted as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you into his side. “We don’t need you fighting our battles, amor.” 

“I know,” you sighed deeply.

“We will sort this out with the team,” he added. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled. 

“So no magic, okay?” 

You paused.

“Cherie,” Charles muttered as you continued to avoid both their stares. “No hexing and driving, remember?”

“But—”

“No magic. We can deal with the grid penalties on our own,” Charles told you in a softer voice. And you believed them. You knew what your boys were capable of, but your lack of faith resided with the team rather than them.

“How about a teeny hex?” You bargained as you looked between them. “Nothing big or serious, it will be harmless.”

Neither Charles nor Carlos looked convinced. 

“Something like…if they fuck up either of your races today, they will have clown noses stuck to their faces for a week?” You suggested, watching the way Charles had to press his lips together to withhold his giggles.

“Mi amor,” Carlos scolded softly but you could see the smile on his face.

“Please?” You murmured, giving the boys your puppy dog eyes that you knew they wouldn’t be able to resist. “If you won’t let me spell the cars with good luck, at least let me do this.” 

The boys shared a look with each other, a few beats of silence passing between you three before Carlos spoke.

“Fine—”

“Yes!” You grinned.

“But nothing more,” Carlos quickly added, shooting you a look. “And this is the only time.” 

“Promise,” you said with a smile on your face that didn’t reassure Carlos in the slightest, but he knew there was no stopping you when it came to defending them. 

“Thank you for caring,” he added in a softer voice.

“Always,” you said as you reached your hands out, taking each of their hands in your own as you intertwined your fingers. “I’ll always defend you both. After all, I like seeing you on the podium with me.”

“In second and third,” Charles commented with a snort.

You shrugged. “I like the view from up on the top spot, you can’t blame me.” 

“If you wanted to look down at us, you just had to ask for us to get on our knees, mi amor,” Carlos commented, grinning a little himself when he watched a blush spread across your cheeks. 

“What was that, Christian? You need me for data review? Okay!” You announced suddenly as you scrambled to get up from the couch, your body flushing at his words and the boys laughing as they tried to pull you back down.

.

[eddiemunsonw]

Atonement - PART 1

PART 1 - PART 2

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: Munch has taken Gator captive to let him atone for his sins, you try to convince him not to by any means necessary

CW/Disclaimer: Violence (maiming), contains 'spoilers'

Author's note: Spoilers ahead, in a way. It's based on early on previews we have had, as well as the latest preview for episode 9. I had a fix-it urge before the fix-it event has even occurred.

Words: 2016

Screams echoed across the empty land, making you quicken your step. It didn’t surprise you that it had come this far, not in the slightest. You had told him to stay as far away from him as he could, but he decided to be cocky. Which… in some way, you understood. His thing with Munch was the only part of his life he currently felt in control of, or desperately wanted to be in control of. The man who was supposed to be dead by his gun had instead broken his arm, kicked him in the balls and left him hunched over like a loser vomiting in the grass for his dad to find. That wasn’t a pretty sight, for neither of them. Or you, for that matter. 

Because despite the stupidly disgusting things that left his mouth on occasion, you cared for him. Why? Maybe because you knew where it came from. With a father like that, being fed his atrocious beliefs all his life and hardly being met with any opposition, it was probably harder to reflect on your own actions even if you should. Maybe because when you told him off he actually started to look remorseful. Maybe because, under all that douchebag behavior, you knew there was more to him. He had shown you on rare occasions when he let his guard down. Not on purpose, that’s for sure. But he had.

As for you, you knew Munch. Sort of. A long time ago, he had taken up one of the rooms above the bar. You had been scared of him, especially since he only showed up when he knew you were the only one behind the bar. The other patrons paid him no mind, but you did. How could you not? He only used the room to sleep. He’d come in late and be gone by the time you opened up the next day. You thought maybe he was homeless and you didn’t have the heart to tell your boss, the owner of the bar, that you had a freeloading guest. The rooms were barely used as it was, so you assumed it wouldn’t hurt. One night, a guest had been particularly difficult for you and at one point things had seemed to get out of hand and suddenly there had been Munch, snapping his neck like a twig and dragging him out of the bar without a word. That was the last time you’d seen him.

So when Gator mentioned his name, you had mixed feelings. You worried for Gator, knowing you wouldn’t want to be on Munch’s bad side. You were also, in some way, glad that Munch was okay. However after hearing that Munch broke Gator’s arm, you weren’t so sure if you should. Gator loved boasting about his achievements, was very quiet about his failures. He was all too giddy to tell you that he placed a tracker under Munch’s car and despite the many times you tried to talk him out of it, he had gone. He went, killed Munch and accidentally killed an old lady who decided to attack him with a bag of oranges for some reason.

Little did he know that the old lady and Munch had had a similar silent agreement as you had with Munch in the past. And little did he know that he’d simply shot through the head of a corpse that Munch had killed off earlier, rather than the man himself. Of course, it hadn’t been hard for him to figure out that Gator was behind it. Neither was it hard for him to decide he must be punished.

You had known something was up when Gator didn’t answer his cell. He never missed your calls, or he’d call back immediately. Something was up. When you finally found his car on the side of the road, the screams from afar gave you all you needed to find him. Munch hadn’t bothered to lock the shed, he even didn’t look up from Gator’s fear struck face when you stomped inside.

“Munch, let him go, please.”

Slowly, he turned his head to face you, but not before slicing a thick line through Gator’s cheek with the dull knife in his hand. He screamed.

“The boy has to pay for his sins,” Munch said, in that same, dull tone he always used. Smiled weakly as he turned back to face Gator, who tried to blink the blood away as it ran into his eye.

“It was an accident,” you tried, ignoring the fact that Gator had very much tried to kill the man. This was about the old lady after all.

“Foolish girl should not say foolish things.”

“Please, I can teach him to be better, he can learn—”

“A boy must learn to listen to what is not being said.”

With that said, Munch moved the knife closer to one of Gator’s eyes, who whimpered shakily, softly pleading, begging him not to.

“He does not need to see, as the cruels of this world fuel the ill part of his existence.”

“I need— I need my eyes, please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt her. I-I-I’m sorry I tried to kill you! I only wanted for my dad, for Roy to be proud. To see me.”

Munch laughed in the creepiest sense of the word.

“To want the devil himself to be proud of one is to sin with the deepest desire for ruin.”

“I’m good— P-Please, I can be good, I promise! Please Y/N, tell him! Tell him!”

You placed a hesitant hand on Munch’s shoulder, letting go of a shaky breath as you crouched down.

“Please don’t hurt him. Can’t you see? He’s hurting enough from the turmoil inside. It’s Roy who you should go after, he’s the real monster. Gator is only… the product of it. He’s not beyond repair, Roy is. Please, Munch.”

Munch looked up again, considering your words. He got up and rummaged around in his bag, giving you a chance to really look at Gator. He was tied up, both hands and feet and even had a rope around his neck keeping him down. Tears had found their way down across all sides of his face, many streaks mixed with blood of his own. Munch had taken his time making tiny cuts all over his face. You didn’t dare touch him, in fear of Munch getting the wrong idea and ruining whatever small chance you had to save him. Gator’s lower lip trembled and you forced yourself to look at him, trying to convey without words that you’d do anything to get him out of there. You had already been looking around for anything to use as a weapon other than the pocket knife you carried. When Munch sat back on the low stool, he presented you with a square piece of iron attached to a stick. On top of the squared piece was a symbol that you only recognized from the back of Munch’s neck. You had no idea what it meant, or why he was showing it to you, but it could hardly mean anything good.

“Balance is a means used to eradicate evil and maintain the good. The girl is good, the boy is not. The burden of balance must be shared, if the girl wishes for the boy’s release.”

Gator and you watched as munch stuck the iron into the fire, heating it up. Finally realizing what he was saying, Gator turned his head to you and shook his head.

“No, Y/N, don’t. You can’t!”

“I can’t let him take your eyes either,” you said softly, the tremble in your voice betraying your fear. Gator continued to plead, to whom he wasn’t sure. You on the other hand, turned around and bared your neck.

The searing hot metal made you nearly lose your vision as you screamed out from the pain and it was only for Munch holding you up that you didn’t collapse. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he placed a cloth on top and helped you hoist up your clothes again. Gator was next. He didn’t try to fight back as Munch released him, not after you endured this for him, turned around wordlessly so Munch could do the same to him. His hand sought yours behind him and he clutched it tightly as soon as Munch moved away. Neither of you dared to move as Munch gathered his things. Not another word was spoken until Munch left the shed, and another ten minutes passed before Gator turned around to face you.

Guilt was etched deeply into his frown, the blood only deepening the gentle wrinkles on his forehead. Then, he quietly got up, helped you up and held the door of the shed open for you so you could leave. You both didn’t have to wonder whether Munch was gone. He only stayed somewhere with purpose, not just to wander about. It was done, so he was gone. Just as you arrived at the car, Gator turned to face you.

“Why?”

The silence stuck around for a while.

“Because I can’t see you get hurt. You’re hurting enough.”

Gator sighed shakily, his trembling hands trying to find the vape that had long since been discarded somewhere during the wrestle he and Munch had had.

“That’s not for you to fix.”

“I know.”

You didn’t care.

“Roy would have just let me suffer. Would think I’d deserve it too for being such a failure.”

“I know.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You do.”

Gator shook his head.

“No, Y/N, I really, really don’t.”

“I love you,” you whispered. It came as a surprise to you as well. You were his friend, you had always been just his friend and while you had considered the option sometimes, you never thought you’d actually act on it. You weren’t sure if you should regret it now, seeing the astonished look on Gator’s face.

Gator realized in the back of his mind that he had never, not once, been told these words. By no one. He didn’t think he’d ever hear them, nevertheless so sincerely, warm and loving. He closed the distance between you two so quickly that you gasped. His arms curled around you, though they never touched. His exhale was shaky and so were his hands when they carefully wrapped around your waist. He flinched as he felt your hands rest on some of the cuts Munch had made on his back earlier, but didn’t care enough about the pain to stop you from hugging him back.

“I’m sorry,” Gator whispered. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” you whispered back as you felt his fingers dig into you all the way through your jacket.

“It’s not, it’s not okay. I— you’re— maimed for life, because of me.”

“I chose to do that.”

“I don’t—”

“You do deserve me.”

Somewhere between his apologies, he started crying. Clutching at your jacket like his life depended on it and heaving into your neck. You cried too, but from relief. Munch had allowed your compromise to give Gator a second chance, and it was worth it. You’d do anything for him.

Gator leaned back finally, to look at you, his savior. His friend. The friend who said she loved him, whatever that meant. Stared at you longer, realized he needed to know. If all went to hell, it might as well go to hell today.

Rough hands, dirtied up with dried blood took the gentlest hold of your face before chapped lips brushed against yours, waiting. Yours moved against his, the softness of your tongue soothing his own. You tasted his blood but by no means would it stop you from kissing him, his body pressing yours against the side of his car, his gentle hand covering the back of your neck to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally hurt you.

I love you too.

It wasn’t said with words, but in a world where words were limited, sometimes actions were more than enough.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Pomposo

Chapter Fourteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Dean/Jo, John/Kate, Adam, Ellen, Garth/Bess (in passing), Cas and Mary (mentioned)

Word Count: 4559

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining. MORE BACKSTORY AHEAD, story takes place currently in Dec 2017, flashback to Jan. 2004 in italics, talk of Sam's past use of hard drugs, hangovers, vomit, car accidents, injuries, character death, guilt, John was not so great a parent or husband, some paraphrasing of last chapter unbeta'd

Special shout out to @thoughtslikeaminefield who helped immensely on sorting out the backstory for this chapter too, way back when I started outlining this thing.

Series Masterlist

Sam settled on some old school soul music to start their road trip and Dean couldn’t even come up with a reason to complain. Aretha sang in the background and they headed east, the world was their oyster and all that. Dean held onto the small bit of smug satisfaction from the interview with Meg as the city disappeared behind them. She really wanted him to crack, but he hadn't and that gave him some hope for going home.

They veered north for a bit and continued on I-40 until they hit Flagstaff. Dean liked the mountains, the air was infinitely better than LA and there was something about spending the holidays where it got cold that made sense. Unfortunately, it was just an overnight stay. How they managed a room in the first hotel they tried, he’d never know. He just shuffled in with his duffel bag and his ball cap over his now sleep-sloppy hair. There was a player-piano in the lobby and Dean had the fleeting thought about how Cas was spending the holidays.

Maybe he’d try and leave him another message, it had been months.

Sam called Madison after dinner and Dean decided to check out the amenities in order to not have to watch Sam get all goopy. Dean hadn’t packed a bathing suit, but a gym’s a gym even if it’s just three treadmills, a stair climber and free weights. So, he jogged for a little bit, watching whatever passed for news. He forgot his earbuds in the room and it really wasn’t worth going back for, he was finding his groove even without music as a buffer to the world around him.

After a solid 5k, Dean stepped down to stretch. Which worked out because a couple in their fifties came in just as he started some curls, leaving the treadmills open for their evening stroll. They talked about their family, the wife explaining what she got each of their grandchildren and where they were supposed to be on which day. Perfectly normal people conversation, but something about it made Dean sad, so he tried to tune them out and focus on his reps.

Part of his life after Cain and Alistair was a loss of gym time. Sure, he could work out at home or even do laps around the neighborhood, but it wasn’t the hours in the ring or at the bag or with a jump rope full-body-punishment that he had worked himself up to. It was also a lot more peaceful, less reactionary. And Dean decided he would find a balance between stagnation and self-destruction. Twenty eighteen was just around the corner afterall.

Dean got back to the room in time to shower and crash. If they wanted to push it, they could make it to their Dad’s place the next day. But neither of them were in a hurry, even in Sam’s fuckboy Charger it was nice to be on the road together. Dean took the first stretch towards Albuquerque, but Sam called it in Santa Fe. He had thought ahead and booked them a hotel instead of chancing it again, which surprised Dean for some reason. Sam had gone and gotten to be responsible while Dean was busy fishing himself out of professional purgatory.

“You talk to Bela?” Sam asked as they waited for their pizza to be delivered. 

“Uh, she texted me that she landed at Heathrow, but not really. Why?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his beer.

“Wasn’t sure if you guys were doing the whole gift exchange thing,” Sam shrugged. “Madison made me wait until after we get back to give her hers.”

Dean chuckled. “I don’t want to know what you’re giving her, alright?”

Sam rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the innuendo. “Won’t people be asking about what you got her?”

Dean hadn’t really thought about it. “I guess I could ask Trouble for some ideas, see if she thinks it’s necessary we post about it. I don’t know, I was kind of hoping of forgetting about the whole thing until New Year’s at Elizabeth’s, you know?”

Sam leveled Dean with a glare. “You know Dad is gonna ask to meet her.”

Dean set down his beer. “Well it’s a good thing she’s halfway across the world then.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Mom loved that show,” Sam said thoughtfully.

He was right. Dean had completely forgotten about why he’d recognized Bela the first time they’d met at your housewarming party way back when. But, yeah, Mary had watched ‘Red Sky in the Morning’ every Tuesday night after she put them to bed. Once Dean reached junior high, he was able to persuade her to let him stay up and watch too.

“I can’t believe it was on as long as it was, it was fucking awful,” Dean said playfully.

“Yeah, but it was her escape,” Sam added gently.

Dean took a long pull off his beer. “I guess so.”

When Sam went to meet the delivery driver, Dean turned on the television, banking on some sort of Christmas special to take his mind off memory lane. They ate quietly, letting last minute sales commercials drown out their thoughts. Tomorrow they were going home, or as close to it as they had outside of LA. Dean felt lopsided over getting to see Adam, having to navigate his dad, and tiptoeing Kate’s well-meaning but invasive nature.

But that’s family for you, nothing more important than that.

Dean rolled over on the couch, something had woken him up and he was too hungover to let it win. But it didn’t stop, a trilling sound coming from his pants pocket, fuck, it was his phone. He cracked one eye open and checked the caller id.

He closed his eyes and answered. “Morning, beautiful.”

“Dean Winchester?” a harried voice asked, decidedly not Jo.

“Ellen?”

“Yeah, listen— there’s been an accident. Jo and Y/N were T-boned on Hound Drive last night. Can you come to the hospital? I just came home for a change of clothes, but I’m heading back there now.”

Dean sat up, liquor and a headache dulling his reflexes. “Ellen? What are they saying?”

“She’s in the ICU. I— we need you there.”

 Terror flooded Dean’s system, churning with a relentless guilt. Jo wouldn’t have been out so late if it wasn’t to see him. He swallowed. “Uh, of course. Do you want me to drive you? I can be there in ten minutes.”

“I’ll pick you up. I’ve got my truck, the roads are still a mess.”

“Right, okay, I’m at Dad and Kate’s— do you–”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Ellen? Be careful.”

“Don’t you start young man.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Ellen hung up.

Dean stumbled into the bathroom and threw up. He didn’t have time for a shower. Instead he grabbed his shaving kit and threw on a fresh layer of deodorant and brushed his teeth. He pounded three Advil with the water from one of those flowery Dixie cups Kate kept in a plastic dispenser on the counter. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, he knew how bad he must look. He stomped back into the living room and swapped his sweaty flannel for one that smelled neutral from his duffel. Adam showed up as Dean was shoving his boots on.

“Dean? Can I put on cartoons?”

He didn’t jump, Dean didn’t get scared of six-year-olds in footie pajamas. He was just on edge, was all.

“Knock yourself out,” Dean said.

“Where are you going?” Adam asked, stealing the afghan Dean had left on the floor.

“Uh, friend of mine had an accident, so I’m heading to the hospital. Can you tell Dad? I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“You can tell me yourself,” John’s voice pressed in behind Dean as he came in from the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand.

“Dad—,” Dean looked at his father, a man who had been on the road cheating on his mother for years. The same mother who died in a fire because John couldn’t bother to make sure to keep the electrical in their shitty double wide up to code. “It’s Jo. Ellen’s gonna take me to the hospital. Dad, I—”

John’s entire stance changed. “Go. Call when you know something. I’ll send Sammy when he’s up, he’ll know what to do.”

They both knew Sam couldn’t stop whatever was happening, but he’d keep Dean from causing a scene.

A car honked in the driveway.

“I gotta go. Thanks,” Dean brushed past his dad without even a glance at Adam.

Dean wouldn’t let Ellen drive, even hungover he trusted himself behind the wheel more than a desperate mother. She only pretended to argue before sliding across the bench seat and letting him in. The roads were a mess. In the thirty minute drive to the hospital, Dean saw another two cars in the ditch. Though, it was clear now in the morning sunshine, everything was blinding in its whiteness.

“Listen, you shut up and keep your head down. Let me do the talking,” Ellen warned him as they approached the reception desk.

“Hi, I’m Ellen Harvelle, I’m here to see my daughter Joanna? This is her fiance.”

Dean squirmed, but nodded at the nurse who looked at him like she wanted to reach over and hug him. “Of course, right this way.”

She led Dean and Ellen down a hushed hallway, the beeping of machines and huffing of ventilators the only sounds escaping the doorways as they passed. Dean looked around for a trash can, the painkillers in his stomach threatening to come back up. Ellen took his hand and pulled him into a room. 

Jo was hooked up to more machines than should have fit in the tiny room. Her hair was matted with blood and she was drowning in the hospital gown. Her beautiful face was swollen and red, the bruises still forming where she hit the passenger side window— or maybe that was the dashboard, Dean couldn’t tell she was so misshapen.

“Oh, Jo,” Dean’s voice broke. He stopped himself from saying anything as the nurse talked, but all he wanted to do was sob.

 He didn’t realize he had let go of Ellen’s hand until he was clenching the rail along Jo’s bedside. Ellen stood on the other side of her, carefully brushing the hair out of Jo’s beaten face. Her one arm was framed in a metal fixator, skin angry from where the bone sliced her open from the inside. Her leg was in a brace, but at least that meant those bones were more salvageable.

“What happened?” Dean said eventually, unsure of when the nurse left. He eyed the machines tracking Jo’s heart rate, but he wasn’t sure if the readings were good or bad.

“Someone was driving on the wrong side of the road— couldn’t see the lines and Y/N swerved to miss them, they spun out and the other car didn’t stop. They took her to surgery– her right knee was shattered.”

“Jo took the brunt of it,” Dean stated the obvious, still too terrified to reach out and touch Jo. She was suddenly so very fragile.

Ellen sniffed.

“They are watching for internal bleeding before they’ll operate. Her brain—," Ellen couldn’t finish.

“Hey,” Dean rushed around the bed and pulled Ellen against his chest, finally giving his hands something to do. “They’re doing everything they can.”

“It’s not enough,” Ellen argued.

“I know,” Dean agreed, squeezing her tighter.

Ellen pulled back and wiped her eyes, muttering to herself about going soft. Dean needed to give her a moment, hell, he needed a minute to catch his breath. He told her he was going to find coffee and she told him they had a waiting area down the hall. He nearly ran out of Jo’s room.

He checked his watch, it was just after ten o’clock. And as exhausted and hungover as Dean felt, he was pretty sure Ellen hadn’t slept at all after closing the bar. He wondered if she’d even made it home before getting the call. He found the coffee maker and pushed a button for something hot and thin and caffeinated. He wondered if Y/N had passed a breathalyzer, knowing how much Jo had been drinking didn’t make him certain her driver was much better off.

He was gonna be sick again.

He left the paper cup on the grate and fell into one of the stiff plastic chairs around the small table. He put his head between his knees and breathed, resting on his elbows. Dean counted the flecks in the white linoleum squares beneath his feet.

Nothing made sense. They were just getting started. Last night there was the impossible giddiness of seeing her in person after so long and now the unabashed horror of her mother sneaking him into the hospital as her fiance so he could see her before…

She was eighteen-fucking-years-old and he was going to lose her.

And it was all his fault.

He stared at the floor until he couldn’t anymore. The coffee was nothing more than a passing burn on the way to his knotted stomach. But he couldn’t stop the tears and he wouldn’t go back to Ellen until they were dry, she needed him to be better than that. When he couldn’t cry anymore and after he used his last single for a pack of peanut M&Ms, Dean went back to Jo’s room.

Ellen was asleep in an ugly mauve chair with her hand clutching Jo’s good ankle over the thin hospital blanket. Dean found another blanket from a CNA and tucked it around Ellen’s shoulders. He stood guard, through Ellen’s brief nap and the three o’clock shift change, even after Sam came by with lunch but left because he wasn’t allowed on the ward.

The seizures started around five and Ellen and Dean were asked to wait outside. Before six, she was wheeled away from them into emergency surgery and by seven she was gone. Dean had to hold Ellen back from slugging the surgeon. He caught her when she finally sank into reality, and somehow Dean found more tears.

Nothing felt real, least of all Dean himself.

Adam looked Dean in the eye and grinned.

“Get over here you little shit, I told you to stop growing the last time I saw you didn’t I?” Dean hugged his youngest brother hard, thumping him on the back as he rocked from foot to foot. “Good to see you, man.”

“You too,” Adam grunted out before Dean could release him.

Then came John, waiting for Dean as he walked through the front door. They didn’t say anything, just gave each other the once over and went in for the hug. John held him tight until he cleared his throat, stepping away from the vulnerable moment. Sam came in with his bags and hugged Kate first, who had been waiting in the hallway to the kitchen.

“Sammy,” John said, holding out his arms.

“Hey Dad,” Sam hugged with genuine warmth on his face, Dean never thought he’d see the day. But time does things to a person, and forgiveness was always Sam’s superpower.

“You boys hungry? I can reheat dinner, I know you’ve been on the road, wasn’t sure when you’d get in,” Kate offered as Dean went in for the obligatory hug. She had colored her hair, instead of her natural blonde it was a mature auburn, covering the gray and giving her a different air.

“Don’t worry about us, we can scavenge for something later,” Dean assured her. “I like your hair.”

That startled her. “Oh! Thank you, yeah I just figured I’d do something different for winter, you know.”

“Don’t she look good? I told her redheads are feisty,” John teased, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Gross,” Adam called on the way to the basement, where Sam had headed down to watch him finish his game.

“Beer?” John offered and Dean gladly accepted.

Arriving three days early was pushing their luck, Dean knew that, but there was nothing keeping him in LA. And after the novelty of catching up and last minute shopping in the tiny downtown of Mills’ Crossing, there wasn’t much more small talk to be had. 

Naturally, John started it. But it was over Sam that had Dean’s hackles up first. They were sitting down for a late lunch, having gone to church as a family for the first time since Kate and John got married when John made a comment about it was good to see Sam’s forearms ‘healthy’. 

What he meant was he was proud of Sam for kicking his habit, for staying clean. What John didn’t know was that Sam was so good at hiding it, Dean had to check between his toes before he finally got him into rehab the last time. Seven years since Sam had kicked it and John still needed to point it out.

The jam session that night seemed to clear the air. Adam had decided he was a drummer sometime after Dean and Sam’s first platinum album so John built him an entire soundproof room in the basement to go wild. Which meant the Winchester men were a full four piece, if they got to pick their parts. Dean abstained from playing lead because it was John’s house after all, but the old man’s hands weren’t what they used to be. And that gave Dean a little bit of satisfaction.

They rolled through the classics, even playing a couple of Phantom Traveler’s songs that didn’t rely too much on the keys. Dean made John sing though, laughing when he made up his own lyrics.

They ended the night with a drunken, almost punk rendition of Jingle Bell Rock after which Kate shut the lights out on them and told them to go to bed.

Christmas Eve was boring, Dean had gotten stir crazy and kept checking his phone. He knew you had gotten in the night before, but he couldn’t justify trying to hang out while you had such little time with your family as it was. Sam gave him a look and they started playing poker, teasing Adam that he needed to know every version of the game if he was gonna hold his own one day. 

Kate wiped the floor with them all.

They had eggnog and exchanged one round of gifts before going to bed, no expectations of Santa Claus or any set wake up time scheduled. It was just another day. Dean barely slept, anxiety churning inside him. He tried meditating. He even prayed, but God, who was understandably busy that night, didn’t save him. Because he woke up with a bug up his ass and, naturally, his father was the first one to point it out.

“You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” John asked after Dean cursed at Adam’s obnoxious ringtone.

“Do a lot more with it than that,” Dean muttered before he could stop himself.

“Dean Winchester,” John snapped as if Dean was still sixteen, still living under his roof.

“Oh, come on, kids in college, he’s heard worse,” Dean griped, going back to his coffee.

It all went downhill from there. Naturally, Adam got the lion’s share of gifts. Sam and Dean didn’t need anything, but it was so uneven it looked like John and Kate didn’t even remember they were coming to visit. Meanwhile, John’s plasma screen had arrived two days earlier and Sam and Dean were tasked with installing it in the living room midmorning.

Nothing says family time like manual labor and micromanagement.

Dean started drinking before Kate had taken the ham out of the oven. And while Sam wasn’t exactly keeping track, Dean felt like he was asking for whatever bitchface he got next. He just couldn’t stop himself once he started snarking.

Adam was telling them about the musical composition class he had finished and how he had written something for a string quartet. 

“Our new keyboard player went to Julliard, you should send it to him,” Dean said off the cuff, before shoving some venison sausage in his mouth from the snack trays Kate put out.

“So you upgraded from Cas officially now?” John asked suspiciously.

“Dad, Cas left the band last spring, of course we made it official,” Sam cut in. John already knew this.

“I know, I just hoped you boys would work it out.”

Dean laughed darkly. “Nothing to work out. Dude left, we moved on.”

“And why did he leave exactly?” John goaded Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes, John was one to talk. He had pissed off half of all musicians between the Rockies and New Orleans before he hung it up.

“Let’s call it the Winchester temper and leave it at that,” Dean smiled without teeth, then popped more snacks into his mouth.

“Yeah, cuz the Campbell blood held only saints,” John muttered.

“Dad!” Sam admonished.

“That’s fucking rich! Talking about her when she’s not here to call you on your shit. I fucking punched Cas, alright?! You happy?! And who, DAD, taught me how to do that? Huh? Winchester temper. Not Campbell. That one was all from you.”

John stepped into Dean’s space, but spoke to Sam. “Sam, take your brother outside for a walk to cool down before dinner.”

Sam grunted in confirmation.

“Watch how you talk to me in my own home, Dean. Or I’ll show you a Winchester temper,” John said lowly. “You understand?”

Dean rolled his shoulders and looked his father in the eye. “Who exactly paid for this house again, Dad? Yeah, I’ll talk to you how you deserve it. I’m out of here.”

Dean felt Adam watching from the corner as Kate pulled John out of the kitchen and into their bedroom to give him a piece of her mind. Sam nodded at their younger brother, silently thanking him for holding down the fort as Dean stormed out the front door.

The Roadhouse was blissfully the same, with only a handful of beaten down cars in the parking lot. Dean had spent enough Christmases at bars or taverns throughout his life, but now he just wanted something that felt like home to get through this tightness in his chest. What they found inside was something altogether more special.

Ellen’s entire face lit up as they walked in, an empty plate in front of her and Garth manning the food line. Dean got his hug in first, but Sam took his time asking about what was going on. Then you were there, and Dean felt a hot shame creep up because he was this close to falling into old patterns. And that wasn’t how he ever wanted you to see him. He zipped his lips, pleading with himself to get a handle on his temper already.

He felt you breathe him in, the truth was never hard for you to suss out. And yet Dean held on, needing you close, being stupid and selfish as ever.

They took their free meal and ducked into a corner, watching as Ellen played angel to the downtrodden of Boone county. Slowly, Dean was able to set his shit aside. With Sam talking about anything and everything across from him; he accepted his resentment for his father, his frustration at himself and the stupid fucking feelings he had for you. It all seemed much more manageable when faced with people who had to get over much bigger obstacles with so much less. There was one more thing he promised he’d do while he was home, now that he’d visited Ellen. And he double checked that Sam was still good to go with him, to be his chauffeur.

They helped clean up, though Ellen moved a mile a minute and did tasks faster than she could explain them. And then Ellen was handing you off like a Christmas present, one that Dean couldn’t ever accept. 

Ellen said her goodbyes and left Dean standing in the parking lot without much of a guess on what you wanted to do next.

“I guess we better get going,” he said, asking Sam more than anything.

Then Sam reminded Dean about the cemetery and a new wave of guilt seeped into Dean’s stomach. When it came to Jo, you had first dibs. She was your best friend and Dean’d be damned if he’d visit her without you getting a chance to too. As macabre as it was, he felt he owed it to you.

You looked like you were going to be ill.

“Maybe we should ask her if she wants to go,” he told Sam, searching your eyes for permission at the very least.

You took your time with the idea, but turned him down. “If it’s okay, would you mind dropping me off first? I know it’s in the other direction.”

Dean felt you sinking behind a wall the further they got from the Roadhouse, you asked questions and made conversation, but you weren’t really in it. He probably shouldn’t have brought up Jo, but with Ellen and Christmas and the Roadhouse, she was already everywhere anyway. 

They let you out at your parents’ and headed back across town. The streets were almost empty with the sacredness of the holiday. The cemetery was decorated in pine wreaths and cheap red ribbons. The narrow paths were  silent beneath their feet. Dean had thought he knew what he wanted to say when he decided to take this little side quest to see Jo.

What he said once Sam was safely back inside the Charger was something else entirely.

“So, I’ve been better. Not like I’m bad now, but I’ve been doing actually better. I was a mess for a long time. And not just from you, but a lot of shit. And last year, I guess earlier this year really, I kind of imploded. I started hurting people, like actually hurting them and justified it to myself somehow. Then I pushed Cas away from helping me, after breaking his nose. And well, the bands a lot different now. But we’re still doing it. 

Look, Jo, I know you wanted me to live my dreams and see the world. Things I always wish you could have done. But sometimes dreams are regular everyday things, like bringing home pie or having somebody to say goodnight to. And I haven’t let myself have dreams in a long, long time. But I think maybe I’m starting to again.

And I just need you to know that I’m gonna be okay. And I am gonna do what I can to keep your people safe, because they’re my people now too, you know? You gave me another mom and a best friend without even meaning to. And we all miss you like crazy. But, we’re okay. Merry Christmas, beautiful. I  hope the angels pull out all the stops up there.”

Dean exhaled, his nose thick and eyes stinging in the cold air. He wiped his face and looked at Jo’s name one more time before turning back towards the road. Sam waited until Dean was buckled in before asking, “you good?”

“Yeah, man. Let’s get back before I cause more of a sensation,” Dean said, not meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Okay,” was all Sam said.

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Chapter 15: Rubato