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unfinishedslurs · 1 year

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welcome to eden

this is a love letter. inspired by this song

As soon as Steve picks up the phone, she knows she’s making a mistake.

“Rob?”

“No,” she says instead of hanging up like she should.

“Nancy?” He sounds more alert now, and she can picture him standing up straighter, calling to attention at the sound of her voice. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Not really,” she sniffs, hating herself for it. “I—can we talk?”

He’ll say no. He’ll say no, because it’s one in the morning and he was probably asleep before the phone rang and she shouldn’t be asking to talk years after she broke his heart and didn’t even remember—

“Of course,” he says, and Nancy could kick herself. “Over the phone?”

“No. Not over the phone. I’m sorry, it can wait, you can go back to bed.”

She hears him huff a laugh, even though there’s nothing funny about any of it. “I wasn’t in bed,” he assures her. “Am I picking you up?”

Tears spring anew to her eyes. “If that’s okay.”

“Works for me,” he says. “See you soon.”

“See you,” she echoes, and hangs up.

She spends the time it takes pacing quietly in front of the front door, berating herself for using him like this. But she needs to talk to him, and the sooner it’s over with the better.

Headlights cut through the window way too soon, and she nearly throws herself out the door.

She gives him a look when she opens the car door, telling him she knows how many traffic laws he must have broken to get here this quick. He just grins in return, ready to point out the felony in her closet.

“Where are we going?” He asks, and her heart clenches. He’s so good. He’s so good, and she couldn’t-can’t love him like he wants. She has to tell him.

Tonight probably wasn’t the best night for this conversation, but her skin feels like it’s peeling off and the faster she says something the quicker it will be over with and she can go back to how it was before. Back when she didn’t have anyone to talk to, because Robin might never speak to her again after she breaks her best friend's heart for the second time.

Just rip the bandaid off, Nance.

“I don’t know,” she says instead. Maybe she’s a coward. “A field? Somewhere I can see the stars.”

“I can do that.”

The drive goes by in silence, Nancy staring stubbornly out the window. She can feel Steve periodically checking on her, and she knows he wants to know why she called. She can’t open her mouth to say it in the suffocating enclosure of the car. She rolls down a window.

They get to a field almost out of Hawkins, and the car is barely in park before she’s climbing out, going around to sit on the hood. Steve cuts the engine and follows.

She still doesn’t say anything. She called him to have a talk, why can’t she just open her stupid mouth—

“Nancy?” Steve asks, gentle in a way that used to make her melt. She pulls her legs to her chest, feeling vulnerable. “What’s wrong?”

“Jonathan and I broke up,” she finally gets out.

“Oh shit.” He looks genuinely surprised. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, it was never going to be forever.” Except she’d thought otherwise. She thought they were Nancy and Jonathan, the two of them against the world. She hunches her shoulders. “We never talk anymore, and he was pulling away from me, and he was lying to me for months-“ she shakes her head, clearing the anger she feels at that. “It doesn’t matter. I’m starting to realize there’s things I need to work on, too. A lot to work on, actually.”

“I don’t know what that could be,” he says, flashing her a smile filled with boyish, roguish charm. “You’re already the best person I know.”

She sniffs, and suddenly she’s crying into her knees, shoulders shaking. He freezes beside her, before wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. She leans in for a second, chasing the comfort, before remembering what she came here to do and ripping away violently.

“Fuck,” she whispers. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t—I can’t—this isn’t what I—“

“Hey,” he soothes. “Slow down. Let it out.”

She wipes her eyes, suddenly furious. “I don’t want to date you,” she says, finally looking him in the eyes. “I don’t—I’m sorry for calling you. I just remembered how much better you used to make me feel, but then I realized that’s like…really shitty of me.”

“Why?” He asks, as if Nancy didn’t come out here to break his heart again. “I want to make you feel better. I like knowing I can make you feel better.”

“I don’t want to lead you on,” she says, mouth screwing up. “That’s why I called you out here. And I know it’s shitty of me—“

“Nancy, you’re not leading me on. I…I don’t want to date you either.”

That stops her in her tracks. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he echoes quietly. “I—don’t take this the wrong way, okay, ‘cause I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole saying it, but, uh, I can’t do that again. And even outside of that, I don’t like you that way anymore. Uh, sorry.”

She tries not to sag at the overwhelming relief she feels at that.

“Are you sure?” She studies him closely, trying to see if he’s saying this for her sake or if he means it. “Back in the Upside-Down, and when we were fighting Venca, it seemed…”

He grimaces, and Nancy thinks if it wasn’t dark she’d see the beginning of an embarrassed flush on his ears. “I…may have been feeling things,” he admits. “I was testing the waters, I guess. I started feeling nostalgic, and you were there, and everyone was encouraging me, and it all just ended up in this weird…feelings soup. Sorry.”

“You said you wanted to have six kids with me,” Nancy reminds him. “And travel the country in a Winnebago.”

He groans, covering his face with his hands. “I am,” he says, “so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. That had to be so weird for you.”

“It was kind of sweet?” She tries, not letting her relief show. Not yet.

“We haven’t been together in years, and I decided to tell you I used to dream about you having my babies. How do you deal with me?”

“Well it helps to know you were dropped on your head. Puts everything in perspective.”

“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up.” He looks at her, really looks at her, and she tries not to fidget under his gaze. Too earnest, too caring for someone who doesn’t deserve it. He’s always tried so hard. To woo her, to be a better person, to keep back the vicious streak she still sees in him. “I meant it, when I said I loved you,” he tells her gently, no sign of that cruelty that had him painting her as a whore for the whole town to see. “Back then, I mean. I just wanted you to know that.”

She wants to cry. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back.”

“It’s okay,” he says like he means it. He leans back against the windshield, looking at the sky. After a moment, she copies him.

They watch the stars together, and the air feels clearer.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks, afraid of the answer.

“What do you mean?”

“What happens with us now?”

“Well,” he says gingerly, like he’s testing the waters. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend.”

Friends. She doesn’t know that she and Steve have ever been friends, not properly. Even after the apologies they made to each other, she doesn’t know that she could call what they had friendship. It wasn’t substantial on its own, needing Jonathan as the barrier between them. When it fell, so did they.

“I haven’t had a friend in a while,” she admits. “Robin is kind of a novelty for me. She’s amazing.”

It’s funny, in a way. She was so jealous of Robin, of how close she was with Steve in a way Nancy wasn’t. She’d thought, at first, that it was because they were so clearly dating. After Robin told her they weren’t, she realized how badly she’d just wanted friends. She missed hanging out with Steve, missed his laugh and his squint and his bitchy attitude. She’d hoped that eventually they’d get to that point, was sure they were almost there before Starcourt. In a way, she’d been jealous of Robin for stealing Steve. She knew it was ridiculous. Steve had found a friend, a real friend who hadn’t cheated on him or slept with his girlfriend. She couldn’t begrudge him that.

She just missed him.

“She is, isn’t she?” Steve grins, but sobers up quickly. “I didn’t really think about that. How lonely you must be, since…”

She’s already shaking her head. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t reach out.”

“I didn’t exactly reach out either.”

They fall silent again, at a loss for words. Barb’s death, as always, the canyon between them.

Finally Nancy huffs. “It’s both of our faults,” she declares, “or neither of our faults. I don’t know. I just missed you.”

“Well shit, Nance, I missed you too,” he says, touched.

“I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend too, you know,” she says, glancing at him. He smiles.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Nancy Wheeler, I would be honored to be friends with you,” he says, and sticks out his hand to shake, like they’re meeting for the first time.

She stares at him, and starts laughing. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

She shakes his hand.

Max has always felt like a mirror. One Nancy wanted to smash, pull her out of the shards of her reflective grief and hug. Stroke her hair the way she wanted someone to do for her and say you’ll get through this. So Max could hear it from someone who knows.

Except Nancy doesn’t know anything. Still drowns in her guilt, the ball and chain dragging her into the depths. She can’t help when she’s still such a mess, three years later.

Her hands clench when Mike says Max is pulling away from Lucas. She wishes she could look her in the eye and tell her you don’t have to be me. You can be better.

She’s Mike’s friend. They barely know each other outside of a quick hello as they cross paths or fighting monsters. Max has enough on her plate, she doesn’t need her friend’s weird older sister butting in to tell her how to mourn the right way.

Nancy just hopes she’s getting out of bed. Remembering to eat. Brushing her teeth. She had more cavities in the year after Barb died than she’d ever had in her life, and she knows Max doesn’t have insurance.

Now, sitting next to Max’s hospital bed, Nancy wishes she’d reached out.

With school back comes studying, and with studying comes Eddie Munson, in all his super-senior glory. Nancy is going to get him a diploma if it kills her.

He laughs when she tells him so. “Shit, Wheeler,” he says. “The day something manages to get you is the day this shithole goes down for good.”

Robin turns down her offer to form a study group. “I’m pretty sure if I joined, I’d just distract Eddie, and let him distract me, and we’d end up throwing things at each other until you killed us. Sorry. Steve’s going to help me study for finals, though!”

She looks at Steve, eyebrow raised. She’s pretty sure it’s fair to be dubious, since she was the reason Steve passed his finals in the first place.

“I’m her rubber duck,” he says as an explanation, and she nods in understanding.

Her mom isn’t about to let her study alone with a boy in her room, though, and especially not a boy like Eddie, so she drags him to the library three times a week. He complains, he bitches, he tells her he doesn’t care about his fucking history class anymore. She just hands him a Rubik’s Cube she found to keep his hands busy as she quizzes him.

Three sessions in, he slowly puts a worksheet down and screams into his hands.

“Stop that!” She kicks him in the shin. “If you get me kicked out of the library I’m never forgiving you.”

“I can’t do it,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m so fucking stupid, Nancy. I can’t even get past question two. Is this torture? Did I die and go to hell? That would be fitting, wouldn’t it? Doomed to repeat high school for the rest of eternity?”

“Stupid” her ass. She knows what kind of work goes into those campaigns of his, has absently flipped through his annotated fantasy novels and left feeling as if she’d seen the story anew. Plus, she went and made a tape of everyone’s favorite songs, just in case, and she knew damn well how quickly he’d taught himself to play the song he did in the Upside-Down. “Stupid” and “Eddie Munson” don’t belong in the same sentence, much less belong in the same space in his brain. She hates Hawkins High just a little bit more for it. “Stop being dramatic. What are you stuck on?”

“Fucking nothing! I can’t focus, it’s driving me fucking insane. I keep trying, I swear, but it’s like I can’t even read anymore! This always happens, I swear to God it’s killing me more than the fucking demobats ever did.”

“Don’t joke about that,” she snaps. “You’re smart, Eddie, you know that. You just need to try.”

His face twists, and she realizes that was the wrong thing to say.

“Oh, thank you, Miss Wheeler, why haven’t I thought of that? Sorry for wasting your time, I’ll get out of your perfect hair now—“

“Sit down,” she protests as he gathers up his stuff. “Eddie, I’ll help you work through the problem, okay? Just sit down, please.”

“No, Nancy!” He swings around, eyes wild. “It’s what everyone always says. Just sit still, stop doodling, be quiet, pay attention, try fucking harder…I tried, okay! I’ve been trying, I tried for fifteen fucking years, and I can’t do it! I might as well just drop out and get it over with. I’m fucking sick of this.”

“Okay!” She feels herself getting riled up. “You want to fail so bad, fine! I’m not your keeper, do whatever you want.”

“I will!”

“Fine!”

They stare at each other, not moving. Finally Eddie storms off in a huff, flinging open the library door in a grand gesture she pretends not to see. There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach, but she can ignore it.

She pretends not to notice when he comes slinking back five minutes later, shuffling his feet.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” She asks primly, going over her notes.

“Nancy, please.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry too. I’m just…frustrated.”

“I’ve been told I’m pretty frustrating,” he offers.

“It’s not…”

“It is,” he says, sitting down. “It’s okay. God knows I piss myself off with this shit.”

She studies him, looking over his defeated face like he’s one of her flashcards. “You’re trying your best,” she says, sounding it out. She can’t really make sense of it. After all, trying her best has always been straight A’s, not stopping until she knew everything she needed to and more.

“It’s not good enough.”

“It will be,” she says. “You’ve got me this time.”

“Listen, I know you’re trying to help—“

“Do you want fries?”

“What?” He blinks at her, shocked, as she starts packing up her things.

“We’re not getting anywhere today. Sometimes you have to step back, and come back with a clearer head.” Usually she locks her door and cleans her guns, the repetitive motion soothing her mind until she can think again, but she has a feeling that won’t work for Eddie.

“I usually just give up.”

“I don’t. Get your backpack, we’re going to the diner. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

At the diner, he makes her laugh so hard soda comes out her nose. The next day, they go to the library again.

After a couple of days, he solves the cube. After three weeks, he nearly kicks her door down rushing to show her the B he got on a test.

Two months later, he throws his cap into the air and his cane on the ground. Swings her around, both of them laughing.

“Nancy fucking Wheeler!” He crows. “Achieving the impossible yet again!”

“Eddie, put me down!” She shrieks gleefully as he stumbles. She barely makes it back to solid ground before two more bodies are slamming into them, Steve and Robin whooping in their ears.

It was weird, to see Steve and Robin effortlessly communicate the way she and Jonathan always had and have it be so unabashedly unromantic. She’d always thought that knowing someone like that was a sign you were meant to be, and they did it while still loudly proclaiming Platonic with a capital P.

She and Jonathan didn’t do it much anymore. It was like dancing to a song that was always a beat off, syncing for just one moment before stumbling again, unsure that they were still allowed this.

She’d known him better than anyone, once, and he’d known her the same. Now she wonders if that was ever true.

“So,” Eddie says, throwing himself onto her bed. “Steve.”

She sits in her desk chair, raising an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“You broke up with Jonathan, right? Are you going to get back with him? I thought you would, but it's been months and neither of you said anything.”

“No,” she says. “No, that’s not what I want. It’s not what either of us want.”

“Really?” He rolls over, eyes searching. “What happened there, anyway? With both your boys. I’m a nosy little asshole, and I wanna hear it from you.”

It makes her laugh, the way he admits to it so freely. He grins wolfishly at her, baring his teeth in a grin. That’s probably why she tells him the truth.

“I wasn’t okay, when I was with Steve,” she says honestly. “I was distant, grieving…I was a mess, and I stayed with him because I didn’t know what else to do. With Jonathan…I was getting closure, I was healing, and things were good between us. They were so good, but after a while, we just started to…deteriorate. I don’t know if we lost momentum, or if the stress just got to us, but we started fighting more and more,” She traces the desk with a finger, remembering the sour taste of Oliver Twist on her tongue. It was a shitty thing to say. “I thought we’d figured it out, for a little while, but then we just…stopped talking. I think, maybe if we’d talked more, we could have worked it out. But I’m…not upset that we didn’t, you know?”

It’s a different kind of loneliness when your partner won’t talk to you. It was different than grieving, different than not having anyone to talk to at all. Because even when she didn’t have friends, she had Jonathan. And then, slowly, she didn’t anymore.

“Nancy, you’re one of my best friends, so-”

“Steve is your best friend.”

“Steve is my best best friend,” she agrees. “But he’s also more than that? Like, I think we’re literally soulmates. Platonic with a capital P soulmates, but, like, it feels like more than friendship sometimes? Like sometimes it’s like he can literally feel my bad days even when I haven’t talked to him yet. He told me once he just knows sometimes. It’s like I hit my hip on my desk and he felt it, but emotionally. It’s wild. It’s like the drugs literally combined our minds. Where was I going with this?”

“I don’t know,” she says, slightly bewildered. She wants to ask how they do that, but Robin barrels forward.

“Right. So outside of mine and Steve’s platonic more-than-friendship, you’re kind of my best friend? And you’re, like, the coolest person I know.”

She blinks. She’s not sure she’s ever been described as cool before.

After Barb, Nancy tried to cut her own hair.

Her mom found her in the bathroom, unshed tears in her eyes and hair a mess on the sink and floor.

She hadn’t laughed, hadn't said oh, honey, your beautiful hair. Just clucked her tongue and took the scissors from her hands. Stepped behind her and took over, took the uneven mess and made it something good, something presentable.

She didn’t say anything until she was done, setting the scissors on the counter. “Sometimes,” she said, wetting her lips. “Sometimes we need a change, before we can move forward.”

The closer she gets to Emerson, the more she feels like she’s letting someone down. Mike. Max. Jonathan. All the people who have relied on her, all the people who trusted her to fight.

In a strange turn of events, her mom is the only one she doesn’t feel is disappointed in her. Her mom is more excited about college than she is sometimes. Chattering excitedly over dishes about the classes she’s going to take as Nancy dries and smiles and tries not to feel like the ground is being pulled from under her feet.

This is everything she’s ever wanted. Why does it feel so wrong?

She takes Eddie to the gun range, because having a gun in her hands has always made her feel safer. More in control. More like the badass protector she wants to be, than the scared little girl she feels sometimes.

Eddie stares down the scope of the gun and shoots like he has experience, but doesn’t hit a single bullseye.

“Your hands are shaking.”

“I’m in a fucking gun range and a bunch of small town hicks were hunting me not too long ago,” he snaps, taking another shot and missing the target completely. He swears and changes the magazine. “Excuse me if I’m a little bit on edge.”

She hadn’t really thought of it like that. “You didn’t have to come,” she says. “I just thought with everything that’s happened, you should know how to use one. Just in case.”

“I know how to use a gun,” he rolls his eyes.

“You know how to shoot one.” She looks from him to the target pointedly. “Not the same thing.”

“Deep. I could really feel the judgement there. Tell me, is there anything else wrong with me?”

“There’s security cameras all over this place. We’re not in Hawkins, so there’s no mob coming after you. I’m here, and I do know how to use a gun. No one is going to hurt you here.”

“I know all that.”

“Do you?”

He scowls at her. She looks back unflinchingly. She’s been here plenty of times, and the guys laughed at her until they didn’t anymore. By the time she brought Eddie, all she got was a raised eyebrow and a “boyfriend?” from Hunter at the desk. She didn’t know what was more incriminating, so she just shrugged.

“You’re kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?”

She rolls her eyes, taking the gun from his hands and lining up a shot. “I’ve heard worse,” she says, thinking about Nancy Dre-ew, and Nancy “the slut” Wheeler, and priss, and shoots. It hits the bullseye.

So do her next five shots.

Eddie looks begrudgingly impressed when she reloads and hands the gun back to him. It’s more satisfying than it should be, to realize that while he’d known she had guns he’s never seen her actually shoot before.

She raises a challenging eyebrow at him, and he huffs around a smile. “All right, all right,” he says good naturedly. “Let’s try this again.”

He does a little better this time around, now that he’s actually trying. He does a little dance when he hits one of the inner rings.

“Take that!” He crows. “I bet Steve couldn’t do this. In your face, Harrington!”

“He’s much more of a close-combat kind of guy, isn’t he?” Nancy agrees.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” he says. “Does he really have a bat with nails?”

She blinks, caught off guard by the fact that Eddie hadn’t seen it. She never registered that he hadn’t used it during Vecna. Something about the fact seems weird somehow, as if it was as integral to Steve as his coiffed hair. “He keeps it in his trunk.”

“You and Byers need to update your Steve manuals. He said it’s under his bed now.”

“Ah,” Nancy says, thinking of all the times she’s slept with her pistol under her pillow. Empty, because she’s not stupid enough to sleep with a loaded gun when her little brother sometimes wakes her up after a nightmare, but the comforting weight of it alone makes it easier.

“Just tell me one thing,” he says, widening his eyes imploringly at her. “Did he look as sexy as I think he did? Byers won’t give me a straight answer.”

It’s a joke, but his cheeks are a little pink. She’s not dumb, she’s seen the looks the two of them share, as if he and Steve were circling each other. Caught in a whirlpool, waiting for the moment the vortex would drag them down and they could finally touch.

The looks between Eddie and Jonathan, too, that share a certain camaraderie she doesn’t entirely understand and at the same time understands all too well. Steve and Jonathan had always had a strange relationship, too close to not be friendship but not quite there. Surprisingly enough it was better after she and Steve broke up, Jonathan no longer avoiding them and the talk she’d forced the three of them into clearing the air. Sometimes, she’d wake up to Jonathan climbing into her bed, smelling of cigarettes and a hint of something stronger, and he’d tell her it was Steve who drove him there.

She’s a journalist. It’s her job to notice things. She just wasn’t ready to confront that reality, where the two boys she’d wanted wanted each other as well. But she’s grown since then.

She also knows that whoever Steve chooses, it won’t be easy.

“You know,” she says, considering, “when we were dating, Steve never pressed me up against the wall or anything you’d expect from the King.”

Eddie gets this look on his face, caught between confusion and caught out. “…okay? Did you want him to do that or something? Are you trying to ask me to hint to him?”

“No,” she says. “I’m just saying, he never did any of that. It was kind of funny. He always made it so that he was the one pressed against the wall.”

Eddie misses the next five shots entirely, and she laughs at him through it all.

She’s hyper aware of touching other girls now. She didn’t used to be. Even with Robin, who is a lesbian and definitely won’t hate her. Who’s probably gone through the same thing. She can’t help it.

What if they get the wrong idea? What if someone else sees? What if they can tell, what if they know, what if they hate me?

She hates feeling like this. She doesn’t know why it started, doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s no stranger to casual affection—or at least she didn’t used to be. Why does it make her feel so tense now? It’s been years since she realized she liked girls, shouldn’t this have happened back then?

Deep down, she knows why. The Reagan sign in her front yard. Her dad sitting in his chair, the news always on. “Always that nasty disease, Karen, I swear some people are just asking for it.” She’s always known she could never tell him, but now she knows that if she gets sick he’ll say she deserves it. She doesn’t know what her mother thinks. She’s afraid to find out.

She’s growing up, and her fear is growing with her.

Objectively, Nancy knows she and Eddie don’t make sense.

They’re not cut from the same cloth, like Steve and Robin. They don’t calm each other down, like Jonathan and Argyle. They’re too different, too alike in all the wrong ways, for them to get along. They’re both snappy, a little mean. Eddie’s dramatic enough to get on her nerves, and she’s prim enough to get on his. At their worst, they have earth shattering arguments that end in them not speaking to each other for days.

When people see them walking down the street together, they whisper about “that nice girl Nancy Wheeler” and “that awful Munson boy.”

It’s not fair, never has been. Nancy hasn’t felt nice for a long time, maybe before Barb ever disappeared. Eddie isn’t always particularly nice either, but the court of public opinion takes it to extremes, twists him into something cruel instead of the kindness he carries under his leather armor. Someone to keep their children away from. It really is a shame, because Eddie loves kids in a way Nancy never has. She can see it in the way he interacts with them, his bright smile fading when a parent comes to drag them away. Even when he’s expecting it, his face falls, just for an instant, before spinning around with a grin that won’t reach his eyes.

Nancy wants to take him out of here. There’s an offer on the tip of her tongue that she knows he’d refuse.

He’s not her brother, but he’s not…unlike one. It’s almost like talking to an older, flashier Mike. He’s annoying, is what he is. He picks at her, keeps pressing over the littlest things. Tries to get under her skin, succeeds, until she’s on the verge of stabbing him with her pencil. Looks triumphant whenever Robin has to grab her arm to drag her away, rambling an excuse about “some girl thing I totally forgot, yeah it’s an emergency,” while Steve drags him the other way to have bro time.

“She loves it,” she’d heard Eddie crow delightedly once, when Robin didn’t get her out of hearing range fast enough. “Do you see that fire in her eyes?”

“Do I?” She asked Robin. “Love it?”

“I mean, far be it from me to tell you what you do and don’t like,” Robin answered. “But, uh, as far as I can tell, you totally love it. You look like you’re going to rip him to pieces and enjoy it, and he loves that. I didn’t think you’d be this much of a nightmare together, seriously, like, how are you two at each other’s throats one second and then best friends the next? Steve and I have debated locking you in a bathroom until you get along, but we’re kind of afraid you’ll kill each other.”

So no, Nancy and Eddie don’t get along. They’re kind of a nightmare together. They don’t make sense, and they don’t try to. They have other friends, who they get along with better, that they can seek out.

But when Eddie knocks on her window, the only surprise is that he could even get there.

“How?” She hisses, opening the window. He tumbles in, doesn’t even try to play off the utter gracelessness he’s displaying.

“Wowie, I am never doing that again,” he breathes, flat on his back. “You’re going to have to help me down the stairs when I leave, had to leave my cane at the bottom and I cannot get back down that way.”

She doesn’t even want to know what he had to do to get up on her roof with his bad leg. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m but another lover, nothing but an ant in the face of your unwavering beauty, my queen,” he says, batting his eyes at her. The dramatics don’t hit the way he intends, given that he’s stuck on the floor. He holds a hand out pleadingly, and she rolls her eyes, hauling him up until she can get him to her bed.

“Never mind.” She puts her hands on her hips, a gesture that is so obviously Steve she removes them immediately. From the glint in Eddie’s eyes, he notices.

She tries not to be jealous. She tries, she swears, but…

Three of the four (five? she doesn’t know what Argyle thinks of her) friends she has are dating each other. Two of them dated her, first. She can’t help but wonder, if she’d known that was an option, if everything would have been different. If she wouldn’t have this aching bitterness between her teeth.

(Nothing would have changed, she knows. She’d been too desperate for other things. Trying so hard with Steve so her best friend didn’t die for nothing. Staying with Jonathan because he understood her more than anyone else, so maybe they didn’t need to talk. It wouldn’t have helped anything. She still wonders.)

It doesn’t matter. What’s past is past, and she needs to move forward. She can’t stop to think about could-have-beens, because thinking about boys is what got her into this mess in the first place.

She closes her eyes, taking a shaky breath. That’s not fair. None of this is fair. None of it is fucking fair because Nancy stopped caring about fair when Barb died.

She needs a drink. She needs a nap. She needs to stop feeling like Atlas with the world on her shoulders.

She doesn’t do any of that. She calls Robin.

“Barb was my first kiss.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Nancy says, and keeps talking, because Barb is dead and Robin is a lesbian and she’s long forgotten what Barb’s favorite chapstick was back then. “We were seven, and I liked it but I didn’t know if I liked her. But I was convinced I was going to marry her, until my mom told me that girls don’t marry other girls. And I knew she liked girls when she died. She told me when we were fifteen, and I didn’t know the word bisexual but I knew I loved her and that was all that mattered. Not—not like that, not romantic, or maybe it was but it doesn’t matter because she was my best friend and I still love her but she’s gone forever. I loved her.”

She feels Robin lay a tentative hand on her back.

“I had to look her parents in the eye and pretend. All those fucking NDA’s, I had to pretend there was hope. Pretend she was still missing. It was like everyone forgot about her except for me and them, and they sold their house to find their dead daughter and I wasn’t supposed to say anything and Steve kept reminding me about the fucking NDA’s—“

“Nancy…”

“It’s my fault,” Nancy says, staring at the water. “I lumped in Steve, because it was easier than being alone. He didn’t know her like I did. She was worried about me. She stayed because she cared, and look where that got her.”

“That’s bullshit!” Robin’s eyes are wide, and she waves her hands around as she talks. “If it’s anyones fault, it’s those—those scientist guys experimenting on El! They knew there was a problem, and they tried to cover it up instead of making sure people were safe. You didn’t know it was dangerous. How were you supposed to know it was going to end up as anything other than normal teenage drama? None of this is supposed to be real, you didn’t know—“

“But I left her,” Nancy cuts in. “I left her alone to go lose my virginity to a boy she didn’t even like—“

“He was your boyfriend, it shouldn’t have mattered if she liked him—“

“It doesn’t matter!” Nancy shouts, and Robin falls silent, mouth still moving. “It doesn’t fucking matter how it happened, because it did and now she’s dead and she’s never coming back and it’s all my fault.”

Nancy is sick of crying. Sick of feeling helpless. Sick of not being able to change the past.

“It’s not just Barb. I took Fred to the trailer park—he didn’t even want to be there, and now he’s dead. Eddie needs a cane, Max is almost completely blind and might never walk again and it was my plan that put them there. My plan that almost killed them. I’m responsible—“

“Fuck that.”

“Robin…”

“No, you listen to me, Nancy Wheeler,” Robin says, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You are one of the most remarkable people I have ever known. Max would have died without that plan. We all would have died. Venca-slash-Henry-slash-One would have won without that plan, and I am not going to sit here and listen to you blame yourself for saving lives. And-and Fred! Venca had already marked him, you know that. You couldn’t have done anything! And Barb is not your fault, okay? I-I-I know I can’t convince you, but I’ll say it as many times as it takes until you start believing it, because it’s true. You didn’t kill her. You didn’t kill anyone.”

“I killed Bruce,” she says, just to prove Robin wrong. And isn’t that shitty of her, to forget about him until she can use him to prove a point? She’s a fucking awful person.

“I don’t know who Bruce is, but given your track record I highly doubt that.”

“I bashed his head in with a fire extinguisher.”

Robin pauses, and Nancy’s stomach sinks. This is it, she thinks. This is what will convince her, this is what will make her see that I’m wrong, that I’m poison-

“What was he doing?”

“What?”

“Bruce. You had to have a reason for it. What was he doing?”

It’s like Robin doesn’t even care that Nancy just admitted to first degree murder. “He was flayed,” she admits, knowing Robin will take it as proof that she’s right.

“That’s not murder, that’s self defense,” Robin says, just like she knew she would. “Also, if he was flayed he was already dead. Sorry, I’m sticking to your side on this.”

“But I’m less torn up about killing my asshole coworker than I am about anything else. How does that not make me a monster?”

“He was already dead, Nancy!” Robin shakes her. “You’re not beating yourself up over it because you know he was already dead, a-a-and I know you’re using him to try and push me away and I won’t let you.”

“Robin…” she says, tears springing to her eyes. She’s so fucking sick of crying. So sick of the way she never seems to stop anymore.

“Nancy,” Robin says. “None of us are going to leave you. Stop trying to make us.”

She pulls her into a hug, and Nancy sags into it, boneless.

There, sandwiched between the sky and the water, Nancy starts to feel like she could forgive herself.

“Nancy,” Steve says, putting a hand on her shoulder and ducking his chin to look her in the eye. “They won’t be alone.”

Tears well up, unbidden, at the way he seems to understand her now in a way he never did before.

“I want this,” she insists.

“I know you do,” he says. “Which is why you’re going to go out there, kick ass, and take names. We’ll be here, okay? We’ll keep an eye on them.”

“I know you will.” She swipes a hand across her eyes. “Can you talk to Holly, too? She gets lonely.”

Steve smiles. He’d always loved Holly, when they were dating. He used to braid her hair sometimes. Asked her about her drawings, her TV shows, listened to her talk with the same attentiveness Nancy’s father had never shown any of them. He’ll be a good dad, someday. To someone else’s children.

“I’ll talk to Holly,” he promises. “Does she still like princesses?”

“Ladybugs,” she says. “It’s ladybugs, now.”

“Ladybugs. I can do that. Black and red, and they’re all ladies. What’s not to like?”

“There are male ladybugs.”

“Wait, seriously?”

She laughs, tearfully, but they’re happy tears. Steve wipes them away gently, and she smiles at him to let him know she’s okay. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

“You’re the best person I know, Nancy Wheeler,” he replies, achingly sincere. “You’re gonna have the whole world under your thumb, I just know it. Ever thought of running for President?”

“Can’t be worse than the one we have now,” she says, grimaces as her own joke lands too bitterly to be funny. She sees his jaw tighten before he forces himself to relax.

“I’d vote for you.”

She grins at him, sharp to punch through the tension she’d made. “I’ll make Eddie my Vice President.”

“Oh, fuck no. You lost me,” he says, and Eddie makes an offended noise from where he’s stealing snacks from the glovebox. Jonathan swats him, and she smiles at him too. He smiles back, tentatively, and wanders to her side.

“You gonna be okay up there?” He asks quietly. She can hear the guilt in it, still, and she reaches down to squeeze his hand. The one with the scar that matches hers, so their palms line up. It feels full circle, somehow, the three of them together like this.

“I’ll be okay,” she confirms, and feels the truth of it in her chest. Her boys are here with her, the ones who have been there since the beginning. Eddie’s watching them fondly, munching on a granola bar. Robin is inside somewhere, rambling at her mother. Mike and Holly are probably still bickering over the last cupcake. She loves them so much, all of them.

“Of course you will,” Steve says. “You’re Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler. Nothing stops you.”

She wants that to be true. She can feel in her bones that it will be. Eighteen has nothing on who she’ll be at thirty.

She’s Nancy Wheeler, and the world won’t see her coming.

#welcome to eden au #stranger things fanfic #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #jonathan byers #this is the biggest thing i've posted so far #i ran out of the little fics i'm gonna have to start figuring out how to format the big ones #there's background steve/eddie/jonathan bc this was originally a companion piece to a seperate fic about them #that was 22k before i lost interest #i'll post that one eventually #can you tell nancy is my favorite character. i love u miss survivors guilt <3 #sometimes i think about how nancy has no friends for p much three seasons after barb died and i get very upset #jonathan could count but he also wanted to date her so i'm not counting it #I JUST WANT HER TO HAVE FRIENDS #i also love nancy/eddie friendship they're both judgy bitches #so is steve frankly. nightmare trio #i'm gonna write that ot3 one day (don't hold me to that)

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00fairylights00 · 5 months

Text

Hypersomnolence

Haha funny story, I was diagnosed with a sleep disorder in November after struggling with it unknowingly for give or take 18 months. Turns out I’m not crazy and falling asleep against your will multiple times a day is actually not a good or normal thing.

So permit me to write the puppet like a sap as I need this right now lol. Yes these are in fact all things I experienced but I am medicated for them now hooray!

One task, that was all you’d managed to get through today. You felt sick and heavy, opting to sit on the cold ground before your body made you, it was a battle to stay awake as sleep attacked you again.

It was only early afternoon and you’d struggled through your one task of sweeping, you were certain everyone at the hotel thought you to be lazy, even if they’d all told you otherwise.

You’d been sick like this for a long time, long before the petrification disease or the puppet frenzy, both events having a negative effect on the way you’d usually manage your symptoms.

And while you appreciated the sanctity you’d been spared at Hotel Krat, the nagging feeling of needing to repay Lady Antonia for her kindness was not helping your case.

You sat with your head in your hands, slipping in and out of consciousness, losing the battle again. Usually, Polendina would find you, send you to your room to rest and that would be it for the day, once you were in bed you found it hard to do much of anything else. Which you supposed was good for your body but it made your emotional well-being an absolute wreck.

Lady Antonia had asked you time and time again to be kinder to yourself, to feel accomplished of the things you could do and that you were welcome here no matter how sick you were, and she would know a thing or two about being sick.

But, you had a bad habit of being nasty to yourself, and with your sleep-related illness only seeming to get worse you couldn’t remember the last time you’d spoken kindly to yourself.

You felt like shit.

A hand at your shoulder, delicate and tender shook you but it didn’t do much to rouse you. Your vision swam uncomfortably through the gaps in your fingers, your head being too heavy to lift up. Hands grasped your wrists, pulling gently to reveal your face that was then taken into those same hands, one soft and warm, the other firm and cold.

With the weight of your head now being supported by P’s hands you could somewhat force yourself to look at him. His expression was unreadable, as always, but his presence was a balm to your spiralling thoughts.

The friendship of Geppetto’s Puppet had been good for you, P didn’t care how tired you were he was just happy to see you, he didn’t expect anything but your presence and that was something you could give freely, tired or not.

He tilted his head in question to what you assumed to be your position on the floor, slumped over rather uncomfortably.

“It just came on, I had to sit down,” you mumbled, he seemed to frown, getting down on one knee and shifting you against him to pick you up.

With you cradled to his chest, he ascended the stairs. You burrowed down against his chest, relishing in how nice it was to be looked after.

It was almost like the trip up to your room didn’t happen, one moment you were snug to P’s chest, the next you were under your sheets and propped up against the headboard. P took it upon himself to remove his shoes and coat and sit on the opposite side of the bed to keep you company.

“Sleepy?” P asked innocently, you nodded trying desperately to suppress another yawn.

“I-“ he started, a thoughtful look crossing his face, “-want to help. How do I help?”

He gently took your hand in his own, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. The astounding amount of care he treated you with was sure to tear you apart in the best ways, making your exhausted mind spin.

“Just stay here with me for a bit,” You laid your head on his shoulder, “I think that’ll help.”

“Okay.”

He mimicked you, resting his head on top of yours, pulling the sheets further up your lap. Doing what he could to keep you comfortable, a concept he was still trying to grasp.

“Thank you P,” you mumbled, snuggling closer, “love you.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your head, nose buried in your hair, “I love you too.”

#I wrote this for me and it was going to stay in my drafts but the other shots I've been working on aren't done yet and I am itching to post #yes this is how most of my days went unmedicated it was hell on earth #started playing lies of p just before I got the diagnosis and started on treatment actually #the boy makes me very very happy #this could probably be read platonically but I did not write it with that intention #hence the lil kiss at the end #but close friends kiss each other on the forehead sometimes #will be crossposted elsewhere later #cause i need to go to bed right this second #lies of p x reader #p x reader #pinocchio x reader #lies of p #god i have missed writing my silly little fanfics #self indulgent to the nth degree #dec 2023 #🦋 let your conscience be your guide

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elvisabutler · 1 year

Note

OK, I'll bite: since your requests are open, may we please, with all the cherries on top, get a Dove pregnancy fic? If you have the time and energy, of course - I know your WIP list is crazy, and I'm sure you have all kinds of things going on irl too, as we all do! 😘

if your child needs a daddy, i can help

summary: you find yourself pregnant with your first kid and you and austin make room for them in your lives despite how sometimes the whole pregnancy makes you feel emotionally and physically. fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m, i suppose. he does get his finger inside of her. pairing: austin butler x priscilla actress reader ( little dove verse ) word count: 2261 warnings: the normal warnings apply for this verse. daddy kink. dom/sub dynamics. brief mentions of past relationships that were not at all pleasant. anxiety. negative self talk. pregnancy kink. breeding kink. THESE WARNINGS MAKE IT SOUND MORE SMUTTY THAN IT IS. but it's actually quite fluffy. austin's just horny for his wife. referenced/implied fingering. future and past p in v sex referenced. author’s note: consider this canon for the main verse? obviously set in the future so- god maybe 2024/2025? generally speaking i loved this prompt and technically meant to keep it short or at the very least fluffy but uh- well austin's a horndog is really what happened. thank you anon for this prompt, truly, i'm really trying to get up the courage/gumption to restart actually actively writing for dove and austin and stuff like this and the asks really help more than you know. also thank you for acknowledging my crazy wip list. didn't actually think i'd write this as quick as i did, and truly i meant to have it up on mother's day when i realized how quick i was writing it but this past weekend. lord she was a doozy in my work real life. anyway i hope you like it and anyone who actually wants to be tagged for this verse, either hit me up in my ask box or my dms or someway. i didn't do my normal austin tag list for this because i know this verse has been known to occasionally bother some people and i don't want to put it in your face if you don't want to read it, you know?

It happens- as all things do with you and Austin- quickly. It comes within the two months of you telling Austin you want to make Austin a real Daddy. A daddy who can hold his child and rock it and sing it little lullabies until it grows up to be and strong like their parents. You'd think since you're a grown woman and a surprising amount of your life has become regimented in ways it wasn't after dating and then marrying Austin that you wouldn't miss your period and not notice. You wouldn't miss it one month, two months and only realize something's strange when you go to visit Austin to see his show and hiss and practically yelp in pain when he presses up against your chest. They were bigger but they always got a little bigger around your period, it was fine. But then Austin is murmuring in your ear and pressing his hand against your stomach where he can feel a firmness where there wasn't one before.

"Are you pregnant?"

That's a weird question to ask, you're due for your period any day now, you think, thinking that you're close enough to the beginning of the next month that you're due for one soon. Not that it'll be your third missed period in a row. You shake your head, "no, I'm due for it next week, I think."

Austin raises an eyebrow and presses against the firm spot, waiting for it to give only to realize it's staying firm, there's something there. "When was your last one, Dove?"

You open your mouth to answer once, twice, three times before you look down at his hand against your stomach and see how your breasts are practically spilling out of your bra and you let out a noise of delight and shock rolled into one. Your voice is soft when you answer him finally. "I don't remember."

The squeal of delight you let out and the way Austin laughs and laughs and laughs twirling you around before setting you back down so he can kiss your belly is something the cast talks about for the next week or two.

It's a flurry to try and get things rescheduled, have projects pushed back or dropped all together as your belly starts to curve outward, becoming harder and harder to hide as the weeks go by. You and Austin had made an agreement to not announce a single thing before 12 weeks. It wasn't a guarantee nothing would go wrong but it put you in a safer territory than you would be if you announced earlier. Austin argues every so often that you shouldn't make an announcement, not because he doesn't want people to know but because he's so fiercely protective over your private life with him beyond what the two of you have to show that exposing your child to this nonsense fills him with dread. He worries about the judgment he figures you'll get over having a baby like this. Worries about how if you want to book something short that people may look at your belly and realize that it's not worth it. Maxwell and Simon, your agents and managers and pseudo dads rolled into one promise to get you just one more thing even if you'll have an obvious belly for them because they care about you and your career almost if not more than Austin does.

You tell him- no, you explain to him that you can't do that, you can't go into hiding because you're pregnant. You want to be able to tell the world that you're carrying his baby, that your belly is growing because you told him you wanted a baby. This baby may not be their child, but they're your fans and what would you be without your fans? No, you have to announce it so that you can finally stop hiding in oversized hoodies and dresses tailored to hide your bump. Besides, you've been known to read the gossip blogs and the magazines while waiting for your doctor's appointments. You know very well there's theories as to what's going on and how people find it suspicious you've gone from full body shots on instagram to above the waist shots. There's theories about why you had to drop out of a film that you'd be filming while nine months pregnant and ready to pop if you did. This is the only real way to put them to rest.

"Looking forward to this little one and I having many more mother's days to come. Your daddy and I can't wait to meet you." is the caption you go with on Mother's day with Austin's hands and your hands on your stomach. The comments make you cry though if Austin asks you're only crying because of the hormones. Not because of your little Elvis family bombarding your comments with congratulations or the way any negative comments get overwhelmed by happier comments. Even Kaia and Vanessa say congratulations and you feel something in your chest loosen at the knowledge. You feel the fear that had gripped your heart deep down that whispered how you'd have to hide this pregnancy like you hide your submission to Austin- like you hid your relationships with your other doms- disintegrate and evaporate into thin air.

Austin knows the second he sees your smile and sees your response to a few messages that he's doomed, he's lost the fight of getting you to remain a little more private about the pregnancy. Truthfully he's just thankful you agree with him that the two of you are going to try your absolute hardest to keep the baby themselves out of the limelight. And - as he murmurs, cupping your growing bump one night- their three siblings. Your feed is split between promoting your new project, random other things you'd do and posts about your growing bump, your occasional sickness and how pregnancy isn't really all it's cracked up to be even when you want a baby.

It comes to a head one day when you're seven months pregnant with your big long baby that Austin felt the need to gift you with all his height genes and you're posting something about how this week has just been rough.

"I'm not speaking for everyone, obviously, and all you infertility moms can tell me I'm wrong, but for me- I'm- society gives us all some rose tinted glasses when it comes to pregnancy and from what some of you guys have told me, motherhood." You sigh, wincing as your daughter kicks your rib cage and does this somersault that has your stomach rolling and twisting. "I want more kids but- this hurts. This hurts and I feel huge and I can't breathe sometimes because they're pressing on everything and I know you guys have seen the pap photos, I can't even really hug Austin right any more."

Austin for his part knows better than to interrupt when he hears you talking to yourself and despite his better judgment waits outside your shared bedroom door until he hears words that stop his heart.

"It's selfish, I guess, but I worry sometimes that he doesn't- he isn't going to like me nearly as much when the baby comes out. We've all heard about how guys do that and Austin's but- I don't know. I'm being melancholy and that's not what you signed up for today." You lift up your shirt to show your bump as your daughter does another roll that you manage to catch on camera. "I guess they wanted to show off at the expense of mommy. You are definitely your father's kid."

When it's been silent for a few minutes and he hears you grunt in pain he finally walks inside the room to see you standing in front of the mirror, cupping your bump before running your hands over your chest. There's a part of him in the back of his head that finds the action arousing beyond belief but he sees the look on your face and sees how you're playing with your necklace as the hand that was on your breast moves up. You're so engrossed in looking at your body and allowing your mind to whisper things to you that you don't notice Austin until he's up behind you and his hands are lifting up your belly just so.

"Oh, Aus- Fuck, Daddy, keep your hands there." You moan, the relief palpable in your tone. "That feels so good, she's been-"

"Growing too fast and too big for my little Dove?" Austin's tone is light and playful has he kisses your neck, watching the two of you in the mirror. "The joys of having me as the other half of the genes. Two more months and then she's out of you and you're free until the next one."

Your jaw tenses just a little at the words. It's not that you don't want another baby but who's truly to say he's going to want you enough to make one. The silence after his joke is what makes Austin pause and has him kissing at your jaw. "What's wrong?"

Because something is wrong and you have to communicate with him, if you need something you need to tell him, that's always been the rule in your relationship. A sigh leaves your lips. "There's- you're not going to find me attractive-" you pause and try to take a breath before the first thought that comes to your mind leaves your mouth in a rush. "Elvis didn't like Priscilla after she had Lisa."

Austin drops your belly gently against your protests and turns you to face him while shaking his head, taking your head in his hands. "Dove. Don't- we're not them, remember?"

"I know that!" You practically whine before rubbing at your eyes that are quickly filling with tears. "I know we're not! I know you're Austin and I'm me but I look and feel like a beached whale and my boobs are huge and will probably sag everywhere-"

Austin places his finger on your lips before shaking his head. "I'm going to stop you right there and tell you to look down." He watches you as your eyes slide down his torso and stop between his legs. He's- he's hard just from looking at you and touching you. There's his arousal staring you in the face in his grey sweatpants and you can't help but bite your lip. It twitches a little.

"You're- Daddy."

"I'm hard. You know how I've been the bigger you get. I thought you were attractive before but carrying my baby? Watching your belly swell and seeing your boobs escape every bra you put them in? Dove, if my dick had it's way you'd be pregnant every second you could be." He murmurs, allowing his hands to slide down your neck to your chest where he gives your breasts and nipples a squeeze before sliding down to your stomach. "And when this belly is gone? When our daughter is suckling at your chest? I'm going to remember that you did this. Going to remember how my wife grew our daughter and is feeding her from her own body still. I'm going to know that you're strong and perfect. And I'm going to remind myself we have a baby schedule to stick to. That I can't just immediately put another one inside of you."

His words cause a shudder to ripple through you and Austin smirks just a little, moving his hands down lower and lower, "Dove, if I put my hand between your legs how wet is it going to get?"

You feel your breath shakily leave your mouth. "Soaked. Please, Austin-"

A kiss cuts off your words as Austin's hand slides in between your leggings and your skin, inching ever so closer to where he's ignited a fire. He pulls away just a hair and shakes his head. "Try again, lil Dove. Please who?"

The eyeroll you give him holds no malice but you can't help it even as your arousal threatens to overwhelm you. "Daddy, please."

"I'll always give my Dove what she needs," he murmurs, finally sliding his fingers inside of you with a low groan from both of you.

It's funny how after that night your sex life with Austin up until the end of your pregnancy became a little more intense. More frequent as if to reassure you any time the voice inside your head got too loud and any time every trick your therapists taught you failed. Austin loved you and there wasn't a single doubt about that. Even if there was, the way he was by your side throughout your labor with your daughter would have done away with any doubts. There wasn't much more you could ask for in a partner than what he did for you that day and what he does for you as you recover.

It's a week before any of you are ready to take a picture but you're thankful for Ashley recommending a good photographer for the newborn pictures despite Austin's protests that he could take his own. After all, you wanted him in some of them, and you didn't trust an autotaken picture for this. When it comes time for Austin to post that your daughter's been born he goes for a simple picture that shows your hand on top of Austin's and Loretta's on yours with a simple caption: isn't she lovely, isn't she wonderful.

He saves the other photos for you to post.

#austin butler #austin butler x priscilla actress reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fluff #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfiction #little dove series #dove series #you read your lines so cleverly and never missed a cue #ally writes #also surprise me posting two fics in one day!!

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mirkwoodmunson · 2 years

Note

Would you pretty please turn this picture into an Eddie munson fanfiction? I've been searching the Internet and have yet to find anything like this. If you not comfortable, I totally understand!!

me: writing break!

mailbox: 🫶

me: …..umm ANYWAY *frantic typing*

I LOVE THIS PROMPT SO MUCH U HAVE NO IDEA

tw: cursing, angst, panic/anxiety attack, dissociation, night terrors, depressed/anxious reader, post-v2 (fixit)

it takes a long time for your nights to go back to a state of semi-normalcy. a long time of regaining the ability to lay in bed comfortable and calm and eager for sleep, a long time of healing and bandages and pained tears, a long time of struggling for the smallest crumbs of comfort. but you had each other, and that made it easier of course — but it was still an uphill battle for those first few months. there was a lot of heartache, a lot of tears and strain, but far be it from eddie and you to let the darkness come out on top. you were both fighters, and when the battle got too rough for one of you, the other always managed to gather enough strength to keep the both of you pushing, moving forward. persevering.

when the darkness got the better of you, eddie was there to blind it with his brilliance.

nights… you’d come to dread them. during the day the sun could blot out your thoughts, soothe worries with its warmth, and you had things to do and places to go and people to see; the day didn’t give you the time to worry. but when night fell, when it was just you and eddie and the quiet — not that you didn’t enjoy those things, but with the night and the quiet, and the memories you and eddie now shared… nights were still sometimes difficult.

the thing is, eddie doesn’t remember that night. he doesn’t remember anything after the bats.

but you do.

you remember, and you’ve had to watch it again, and again — at first it was every time you tried to sleep, then just when you slept at night, but always sleeping during the day became a problem. then after a while, after nights started to feel somewhat tolerable, it was every other night. every few nights. you were down to once every few weeks now, but even then, the idea of just trying to get some rest had become so stressful it was just a frustrating cycle of exhaustion at this point.

and how could you bother eddie with this? he knew, but you didn’t complain beyond the initial waking up from the dreams. sure he didn’t remember that night, but he still remembered facing the bats. he still had to go through the stint in the hospital, recovery at home. you were both dealing with your individual traumas. he always assured you you were allowed to feel it too, you didn’t need to act tough around him — you’d become so quiet. so tired. he would always tell you the way through was together, that he had your back. but you still felt like it would burden him. far be it from you to be a burden.

really though, there’s only so many times you can say you’re okay when you’re not before it becomes too much to handle alone.

tonight it takes you by surprise. tonight you fall asleep in eddie’s arms, but you wake up and, you’re there. you’re in the wasteland that is the upside down and you’re running but you can’t run fast enough and there’s not enough air in your lungs. the red flashes are too bright, too disorienting, you can just barely make out the swarm.

when they suddenly drop from the air, you see the body they surround and you drop too. it’s too much, too heavy, too real — the little air you have rips from your lungs and you crawl to him, you know you can save him if you just go fast enough but you can’t move any faster, no matter how hard you scream you can’t get to him any quicker, like you’re pulling yourself through drying concrete. you hear dustin crying.

you reach, so hard your muscles pull and you cry, and you grab his vest and drag yourselves together, gripping him tight light you’re about to be pulled away from him again. you try and talk him awake but your lips move slow too, it’s muffled in your ears like you’re underwater, clogged and distant. if you’re loud enough, cry hard enough, scream loud enough, maybe he’ll wake up. your foreheads are pressed together as you beg for him to wake the fuck up —

“please wake up please wake up please wake up,” his eyes snap open and he holds your face, talking to you quickly, quietly, murmuring a pleading song.

you feel like you’re being pulled up through water.

you wheeze deep and suddenly breach the surface, gasping wildly into a dark space, but that voice remains and keeps guiding you from the murky depths; it’s soft, always soft — calling to you with a tender earnestness.

“i’m here. i’m here — you’re safe; you’re awake.”

you start to wail, and eddie leans over to turn on the lamp before pulling you into his lap, into his arms, careful but quick. he tries not to waver, not to show how startled he is — but he can’t help the tremble in the way that he holds you, the break in his voice.

“it’s okay, y/n it’s okay — i promise. you’re not there. you’re home. i’m here.”

“i-i-i — fine — i’m fine — i’m fine,” it almost hurts to speak, takes effort between the deep breaths and hiccups and sobs. eddie leans you away a bit, pushes damp hair from your cheeks and cups them in warm calloused hands that are firm but loving, urging you to look at him.

through the tears you see his eyes are wide but tired, concerned and sad and alarmed, when you try to look away he holds you still, shaking his head firmly.

“no. no sweetheart you’re not okay.”

he looks at you a moment longer before pulling you back into him as you shudder, quaking with the force of it, gripping his shirt tight to ground yourself as you weep into his shoulder.

eddie shushes you softly, holds you so tight his arms tremble and hides his face in your hair.

“i’m here. you’re safe. i’ve got you. i promise.”

“wh-what about you??”

“i’m safe too, baby. we’re safe. we’re home.”

one of his hands slides around one of yours, soothes it open to release his shirt and then guides it down to the bedsheets.

“feel our bed? the sheets?”

he takes your quieting cries as a ‘yes,’ and smiles small, kissing your temple. you’re starting to focus on him, on your surroundings.

“feel my shirt? an’ my arms?”

you nod, running your thumb over the faded black fabric held tight in your fist, full of holes and tears. you’d got it for eddie when he took you to see judas priest, the metal conqueror tour. you guys hadn’t started dating yet. some dude spilt beer on you and shouted at you for the audacity, eddie had punched him in the face, and then you’d started dating.

“hey! there’s a smile!” eddie peers down at you with a smile of his own, and you sniffle but hold it for him through the stubborn tears. “there you go. where’d that come from?”

“you,” you respond simply, tearfully.

eddie laughs softly and pulls you in again, rocking you in his arms, muttering gentle affirmations.

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onsideramen · 27 days

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One Step Away.

DRAGONS RISING SEASON 2 PART 1 SPOILERS AHEAD.

Also, quick TW: Choking, Death.

This is a little silly fic that I'll be posting to AO3 later probably ;3

(KAIS FEAR SCENE IN THE CAVE REAL OMG???!?!?!?!?!? Character study :3)

Kai stared ahead, determined to reach the end of the cave- he needed to, after all. The flame in his hand flickered, faltering before extinguishing itself into small puffs of ash.

The Fire Master turned his attention to his hand, snapping it a few times in a fruitless attempt to get the flame back. He groaned when it didn't work, turning around to the others and-

...Where were they?

Kai squinted, seeing nothing but a cloud of darkness. He took a step forward, worry squeezing his heart tightly. He didn't need to worry, not yet- but how could he not? A few months would never be enough to meld that torn piece of him back together, that piece of him that wondered if he'd simply finally given to insanity, seeing nothing but hallucinations.

He shook his head quickly, not letting his thoughts drag him under. This moment was real, he was certain- and he was certain his family was not within his sight.

"Lloyd?" Kai called into the darkness, voice steady despite the worry dripping from him in borderline solar flares. He frowned at the lack of response, moving his flameless hands to cup his mouth. "Nya! Lloyd!"

Again, no response.

The worry was practically tearing him apart inside out now- something he would likely never admit. Kai walked further back into the cave, attempting to locate the others. If he was mildly frantic about it, no he wasn't.

Kai came to a halt at the sound of what could almost be called a scream.

One that he was far too familiar with.

Kai whipped around, already falling into a defensive stance as he watched Lloyd run to him, tears streaming down his face. The Fire Master didn't comprehend how young he looked in that moment, as if he were a confused and scared 11-year-old again.

It didn't matter how he looked, not at all- and it never would. It was Lloyd. His brother. Someone he swore he would always protect. Pulling Lloyd closer to him before adjusting his stance to be semi-in front of the younger came almost as second nature.

Kai watched closely as something slunk out of the darkness, towering over him. The thing smirked, a hand coming out from behind it.

The thing held Nya by the neck, she flailed around for a moment, trying to pry the thing away from her neck so she could, most likely, breathe.

The Fire Masters eyes widened, stance faltering for just a moment before his expression hardened. Sparks filtered from his fists.

"Let her go."

The thing sneered at Kai, its devoid face crinkling into something akin to disgust before tightening its grip. Nya squirmed for a moment before beginning to wheeze, her attempts to pry the things hand from her neck growing weaker and weaker.

Kai stared, pulse buzzing violently under his skin.

His blocked flames bristled, a blazing inferno deep in his core.

And he lunged.

He lunged for the thing, anger in every grab and tear at the monster.

Rip.

Tear.

Rip.

Tear.

"LET HER GO!" He screamed, eyes burning as his attacks grew more and more helpless.

The thing snickered despite its current state, amusement in its unforgiving eyes.

Kais' anger only grew, the inferno raging until it obscured any rational thought he could've had. Unshed tears clogged his eyes, limbs trembling as he tried to withhold himself from killing the thing. A mercy it didn't deserve.

And then he was on the other end of the cave, gasping in gulps of air, dizzy, with an unbreathing sister beside him. His inferno sizzled out, water dimming it to a few half-hearted sparks. The shaking of his limbs increased tenfold, his tears finally boiling over and burning his cheeks.

"KAI!" Lloyd- oh, oh FSM wasn't he protecting him-

Kai threw himself onto his feet, looking a complete mess as he watched in what felt almost like slow motion as The Thing dragged his younger brother further into the darkness, a snicker echoing the cave before something zapped him.

Kais' mind had to do a double take on that last thing, actually. He was staring at the stone floor of the cave, shaking mildly- but there were no tears in his eyes, as if they'd been boiled away.

He was zapped.

Zapped?

Was Jay nearby? Oh, FSM. How would he ever explain all this- he couldn't handle The Lightning Ninja right now-

No, no. It would be a good thing if he was there now, wouldn't it?

Kai was pulled to his senses by the sound of the others talking. The others. Lloyd and Nya. His family. His siblings.

He inhaled shakily, trying to wipe what must have been a horrified expression off of his face, then stood up.

They were alive.

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 9 months

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reopening the ask box is like... just finishing vacuuming shed cat hair, and then immediately going and petting said cat vigorously & watching with delight as So Much Fur sheds right back onto the floor

#knocked it down from 96 asks to 53 lets gooooo #i was gonna keep it closed for much longer but like. that was past me's opinion when they were way more stressed than usual #current me misses Conversing with the Masses! or something like that!#is it a smart decision? probably not!#between packing & comms i dont have much time #but keeping it closed felt so wrong... i dont like keep out signs....#absolutely unprompted #i forgot how time-consuming and difficult packing is #im too out of practice....#ive got all my sketchbooks and notebooks and paper and comics boxed up #Except my wof collection. im waiting for book 15 to be shipped before i box em all up. gotta keep things Together #but yes anyway sorry the box is Open for whatever your little heart desires #which is.... bad timing bc im gonna be chronically Offline tomorrow and probably a decent chunk of the next day #now if yall will excuse me im going to Attempt To Write Fanfic.#we'll see if i manage more than one sentence #i am doing. so much usps research for this shit its hilarious #like yes! i will read reddit threads! watch yt 'day in the life' videos! job listings! etc!#but hey now i know about casing and relays/loops and dps and flats and the difference between city and rural-#its fun to learn new things for writing!#i will be taking Liberties anyway! but at least they'll be a conscious decision yk yk #and if i ever post i can say 'hey i know this is inaccurate But its for the sake of the fic. im doing it on purpose! not outta ignorance!'#also i feel so so bad for cca's like... the work 'ethic' is so fucking inhumane are they ok-

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allmoshnobrain · 4 months

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 25 of ? | masterpost

word count: 1904 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

"Damn, I want you in my life forever. If I don't turn sterile from all the booze, let's have a bunch of kids, yeah? Once I make it big and stack up some cash, Nore, I'll give you the world. Bet I can even make your mom like me." “Wait, are you low-key proposing, Mustaine?” I chuckled softly, and he beamed, pure adoration in his eyes before locking lips with me again. “Just give me a few more years, Burton, and you'll see,” he murmured, and I burst out laughing.

✦ summary: Nore makes an important decision regarding her feelings for James and Dave.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle, mxf sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, fluff, romance

✦ a/n: I've been releasing a lot of angsty, longer chapters lately. This one is a shorter, calmer one so we can have a bit of a break this week (but the angst isn't over, friends!). Hope you guys liked it, feedback is welcome! 🖤

✧ say you want me too, dark blue ✧

The morning sun sneaked through the bedroom curtains, casting warm spots of light on the floral-patterned bedsheets, the dark wooden wardrobe door, and my boyfriend's ginger hair. His hands held onto my thighs firmly as his tongue ventured between my legs, exploring the warm wetness leisurely. A sharp moan escaped my lips as a slow contraction rippled through my womb, and Dave chuckled softly, his breath against my skin sending delicious shivers down my spine.

His lips trailed up my body, planting small kisses along the way until they met mine. I sighed as his tongue slipped into my mouth, moving in sync with mine as I clung to his arms tightly.

"Dave..." I moaned softly, burying my face in his neck when he penetrated me, releasing a low sigh as he grasped my hips firmly. He tenderly kissed my cheek, capturing in his kiss a single tear of pleasure that had rolled down my face.

"Love it when you moan my name like that," he murmured, his voice husky. I moaned again as he started to move, my fingers gripping his hair as I pulled him into another kiss. He groaned softly, tightening his hold on my hips before lightly biting my lower lip. "I love fucking you... Oh, fuck."

He picked up the pace, the strength of his thrusts leaving me breathless as I softly moaned his name. His lips found my neck, leaving marks on my soft skin, his fingertips tracing slow circles around my clit, making my thighs tremble and my entire body tense. I let out a low exclamation as he brought one hand to my neck, squeezing it just enough to leave me breathless.

"Dave, ah!" I flinched as he thrust, the force of his penetration sending a wave of pleasure through my body. I opened my eyes, meeting his intense and focused gaze, his face flushed, and his lips slightly parted. He tightened his grip on my neck a bit more, making me open my mouth in surprise, holding onto his arms tightly as my eyes filled with tears of pleasure.

"Say you're mine," he growled, his voice muffled. I nodded, but that didn't seem to satisfy him. He let out a low moan, resting his forehead against mine, his hand moving down to my hip and pulling me forcefully against him as he moved inside me.

"I'm yours, oh, fuck, Dave, I'm all yours, oh my God... " I moaned, shuddering as I embraced him, pulling him closer as my orgasm made my body contract in waves, sweet nothings leaving my lips just for him, tipping him over the edge as well. He groaned low as his own orgasm followed, his body shaking and his thrusts becoming sloppier, his mouth searching desperatly for my kiss as I felt his seed fill me up. I moaned into his mouth, my whole skin burning hot as he slowed down, moving his lips to my breasts and then my neck, kissing the red marks on my skin softly before pulling out and laying beside me with a low moan.

I let out a sigh, my low laughter blending with the soft tickle of Dave's hair against my cheek. His lips peppered my neck and collarbone with small kisses as he pulled me into a snug hug, a grunt escaping him. Stroking his hair, I sighed contentedly.

“Missed this, you know,” Dave's lips pressed a kiss to my forehead, and I chuckled softly. “Barely caught a glimpse of you these past weekends. Always caught up in something…”

“Me?” I smiled, pulling back to meet his warm, honeyed eyes reflecting the sunlight.

“You, miss,” He replied, affection coloring his voice. “Been a bit worried lately, haven't you?”

“How do you figure?” I murmured, furrowing my brow. He gently placed a hand on my cheek, drawing my face closer and planting a soft kiss on my lips.

“Simple. You stopped singing whenever you're distracted. Now you're always quiet…” Another kiss followed, and he whispered, “Miss your voice, little bird.”

My face heated up, my heart racing, and without thinking, I cupped his face in my hands, bringing him in for a kiss. I let out a contented sigh as his tongue took its sweet time exploring my mouth, his arms pulling me close. My stomach churned in excitement as I felt him getting hard again.

“Baby,” he breathed out against my lips, a half-laugh in his voice. “Trying to throw me off my game?”

“Working like a charm?” I teased, and he chuckled, planting a kiss on the tip of my nose, making me giggle.

“Seriously, though. What's eating at you?”

I chewed on my lip, uncertain. Lately, I had been keeping a lid on more stuff than I wanted to spill to Dave – first, my mom waving cash at my education, then that unexpected kiss from James, and now the weird mix of emotions swirling in my heart after Pat's party. I didn't want to worry him, didn't want to hurt him. But I should’ve known that Dave would catch on; I'd never been good at hiding my feelings, and he'd always been good at reading me like an open book.

I knew I couldn't talk about James' kiss, or the "I’m in love with you" bomb he almost dropped, at least not for now. Just mentioning his ex-bandmates was enough to rain on Dave's parade, and I didn't want to picture the storm if he found out about his ex-best friend's crush on his girl. That, I figured, I could handle on my own.

Meanwhile, I'd been avoiding opening up to Dave about my mom's offer. For one, I wasn't sure if I'd take the bait, even though it was tempting. If I did say yes, it meant less time together for us, and I wasn't sure how Dave would handle that. Despite gradually building up a new circle of friends in LA, we were still each other's sanctuary. Messing with that made me nervous, but pretending things maybe wouldn’t change felt scarier.

"Well..." I hesitated, then decided to spill. "Remember when we visited my parents?"

"How could I forget?" he quipped. "Your mom didn't give you the 'dump him' speech, did she?"

"Come on!" I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Nope, not that. Actually, she threw an offer my way... She wants to fund a university course for me. Any course, anywhere. But, in return, I've got to dip my toes into the family business. Learn the ropes, handle things, be the boss when the time comes..."

"And you said yes, right?" he asked, and I blinked, caught off guard. He furrowed his brow, intrigued by my reaction. "Hold up, are you still on the fence? C'mon, you're always raving about how much you love art... This is your golden ticket to do your thing. If I had a shot to study music like that..."

"Would you take it, even if it meant us going our separate ways?" I questioned, my heart squeezing as tears threatened to spill. He looked at me, clearly taken aback by my response.

"Wait, is that why you're hemming and hawing? 'Cause you're afraid it might split us up?" he asked, and I nodded, my cheeks warming as my eyes teetered on the edge of releasing the held-back tears.

"It's just... If everything pans out, you'll be hitting the road with Megadeth soon. And I... I'll be buried in my studies. Not sure how we'd juggle it all."

"Hey. We'll sort it, alright?" He tilted my chin, planting a sweet kiss on my lips before shooting me a grin, and I couldn't help but grin back. "Damn, I want you in my life forever. If I don't turn sterile from all the booze, let's have a bunch of kids, yeah? Once I make it big and stack up some cash, Nore, I'll give you the world. Bet I can even make your mom like me."

“Wait, are you low-key proposing, Mustaine?” I chuckled softly, and he beamed, pure adoration in his eyes before locking lips with me again.

“Just give me a few more years, Burton, and you'll see,” he murmured, and I burst out laughing.

God, could you actually be in love with two men at once? Despite all the crazy feelings I was catching for James, every time Dave and I were together, it was like this certainty hit me full force — I loved him, and he loved me right back. Lying there in bed, talking about some far-off, dreamy future, all the emotional messiness with James felt like nothing more than a small setback. In that happy moment, all the distance and pain from the past months seemed like it couldn't touch us. I'd figure it out, I told myself. I’d reconcile my connection with Cliff, my friendship with the guys, and keep my love for Dave intact.

I would choose Dave. Of course, I would. How could it be any other way? How could I doubt the love I had for him, even if just for a second?

And, anyway, hadn't the chances between James and me already gone down the drain before they could even take off? Recalling the bitterness in my words and the hurt in his eyes the last time we crossed paths, I was skeptical that things could stay the same way between us. Maybe he should just give in to Pat's moves, dive into a relationship, and erase the words we shared in those stolen moments at the party from his memory. Perhaps it'd be simpler to let me become just an old friend, his bandmate’s cousin, someone he used to be close to.

It hurt, but wouldn't it be easier that way?

"You're pouting again," Dave pointed out, and I blinked, snapped out of my thoughts. "Sure it's just your mom's offer bothering you? Or is it James and his new girl?"

"What?" I blurted, caught off guard, my heart doing a sprint, and my cheeks heating up, Dave's watchful eyes studying my face. How did he always nail it? "Dave, what are you on about?"

He shrugged.

"I know you and James are tight. And I know Pat and her friends too. Word on the street is she's claiming the Metallica guy as her man... Wasn't a brain-buster to figure out who that is."

"Do you think I'm into James?" I asked, my voice a bit shaky, my forehead scrunching up. He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you?"

"I'm into you," I shot back, wrinkling my brow. The sudden relief in his eyes caught me off guard, stabbing at my heart. How long had he been sitting on that suspicion? How could I even consider admitting that he was, even a tiny bit, onto something? I couldn't put him through that. I just couldn't. "Dave," I whispered, grabbing his hands in mine. "I love you."

"I love you too," he whispered, his voice a little husky, pulling me in closer with a determined grip, a surprised laugh slipping out of me. "Only you, Nore. I only want you."

I sighed as Dave kissed me, his hand firmly in my hair as he settled back on top of me. His warmth surrounded me, his scent enveloping me entirely, his lips exploring me as if it were the last time, his low voice assuring me that I was his, only his, and no one else's.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777

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