#seven little nuggets

[withacapitalp]

The kids love to tease Steve and call him an old man. 

Well they call him lots of things. Mom, Goober, Steeeeeeeve, Party Pooper, Uptight, even Mother on occasions where Steve is being particularly annoying to them. 

But old man is new. 

It starts when they find him asleep on the new couch in the Byers's home. Steve doesn't even remember falling asleep, he just remembers waking up and having seven sets of eyes peering down at him and scaring the bejeezus out of him. The Party poked fun like normal, but moved on quickly to the next thing to snark about. 

Then it kept happening. 

Over and over. In Eddie's trailer when they play DnD and he's waiting to drive them home. During movie nights in the Wheeler's basement. Even at his job when they come over after school finishes. But, no matter how hard they push, Steve won't tell them why he's so tired all of a sudden. 

He's just sure they would never let him live it down if he admitted that the reason he kept falling asleep was because he only felt safe enough to relax if all of his kid were close. He really can only sleep these days if knows that he would hear if they were in trouble and needed him. 

[thatonesongyouretryingtoremember]

LiTtLe NuGgEtS (Little Nuggets)

(ID: two of the same drawings, the first with a blue ballrooms and the second with a clear background. the Strangerkids drawn inside a 7 piece McNugget box. (left to right, top row) Erica Sinclair, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, El Hopper. (Left to right bottom row) Dustin Henderson, Will Byers, Mike Wheeler Erica is rolling her eyes, Lucas is hugging Erica and Max, El is staying close to Max. Dustin is smiling the biggest and pointing up at the top row, likely singing. : end ID)

[sofiiel]

Trying to explain to people I don't have kids, but I am momma bear to seven fictional little nuggets who'd I'd go to bat for.

[transgenderfivepebbles]

MOLAR YI SANG FOR ME TOMORROW!!!!

[saturnicos]

Giving a bracelet to them

With: Adam, Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Lucifer

ps:: reader's gender is not mentioned

. Charlie

She absolutely adores! Extra points if it have some decoration with rainbow.

She'll use all the time, only take off when goes to bed and when goes to take a bath — she is worried if she ends up breaking or losing the pieces, so try to be as careful as possible.

As she organizes and takes care of hotel paperwork she tends to feel stressed, and unconsciously looks at the bracelet, a smile forming and her spirits slightly picking up again. She's really happy with the gift.

"Wait, this's for me? Really? It's so pretty, thank you so very much!"

—

. Alastor

He... Definitely have it.

Like, don't get me wrong, he just not knows how really feel about it since he has never received a gift before from anyone, except from his mother.

Deep inside, he actually likes it! The color scheme matching with his clothes, and it isn't so much decorated and colorful; or how he would like to say, simple things are more pretty.

Alastor isn't using the bracelet frequently, most because he not like that type of accessories so much. He'll probably use when is far from you, like a way to remember of you and stuff (this man don't use phone not even if the world frozen), but in the most of the time the bracelet probably will be in the pocket of his coat.

"What do you have there, my dear? Oh, a bracelet, that's very interesting."

—

. Adam

He... Definitely have it/2.

But it's the opposite.

He's a bitch that will probably mock about it, but will quickly change when you feel upset and try to leave him alone, saying something like "Just joking, Sugartits/Hunk, I actually liked that, give me".

He'll use ALL the time, except when he's going to the extermination.

He will 100% brag about the bracelet to anyone when he gets the chance, saying how you spent your time making gifts for him (he's a complete idiot that loved this thing, but will never admit bc high ego lol).

Lute can't stand him talking about this damn accessory anymore, please, she begs you not to give him anything else.

TOTALLY extra points if it has a guitar pendant.

"Of course you make it for me, after all, you are madly in love with me"

—

. Angel Dust

Now, I think it's important to point out that Angel would act a lot more like Anthony with his S/O.

Using this as a base, he'll be SO happy receiving a gift from you. Obviously, he'll make some dirty joke about it, but deep down he wonders why he received it if it's not a specific date.

This poor boy is emotionally broken, little acts like this make him feel so moved and loved ☹️

Every time that him have a breakdown and isolates himself, Fat Nuggets comfort him, laying next to him and gently plays with the bracelet (or if he isn't using, Fat Nuggets will pick it up and take it to him, as if knowing it is an object of comfort).

"A gift? For me? You're so kind, baby~."

—

. Lucifer

Listen to me: this man would probably feel so much like crying — with joy — and nothing convinces me otherwise.

He'd passed the lasts seven years alone, without any love or compassion, having you in his life it's a great gift for him. Now, receive a gift from someone that he considers his greatest gift? God-

He would also be one of the will use all the time. Seriously, this guy probably don't take it off in any occasion, it's a regular reminder that there is someone else besides Charlie who loves him.

He's so grateful to have you.

Later, he'll make matching necklaces with duck pendants for you, he thinks that's a lovely way to say thanks :)

"What is this, sweetie? Oh... I'll use, that's so beautiful, thank you a lot."

Thank you for read !! I'm so sorry if this is ooc, but I hope it was pleasant anyway :)

[humansofnewyork]

“I used to say: ‘I like to watch TikTok, or YouTube.’ But I don’t really like to describe myself that way anymore. Because if you think about it, that’s not really something you do. It’s just something that pulls you in. It made me feel connected. Like, I know this person. But I really didn’t know them at all. And I’d sit at home getting sucked into this endless void of whatever I was watching. Windows closed, AC on. My dad would say: ‘Go outside and do something, it builds character.’  Most of the time he’d only say it because he wanted me to take out the trash, or go on an errand with him. So for a long time I didn’t think it meant anything. But it really does, if you think about it. Because every time you do something, it adds to who you are. You learn from life. Recently I joined a group called The Veggie Nuggets. There’s seven of us: me, my friends, a couple neighbors. We made a mural. We made a garden over by 69th and the bridge. We lobbied a little bit at the capital for climate change, because it’s kinda a disaster. I had to develop a certain mindset when I did those things. I had to affirm to something. I had to be motivated. And that’s a real thing,  motivation. It’s a trait. And now it’s part of my character.”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 3

part 1 | part 2

(tw: guns, accidental death)

Robin’s already in full panic mode by the time Steve pulls up to her place, flinging the passenger door open and throwing herself into the car with so much force that the car bounces on its wheels a little. “Drive!!”

“Jesus Christ, good morning to you, too.”

“Steve!”

Steve starts to drive.

Beside him, Robin flips the visor down to look at her reflection; groans and scrubs her hands down her face in misery at whatever she sees. Steve doesn’t really get it. He thinks she looks beautiful, with her hair gently moving in the breeze from the open window, with her freckles lit up by the early morning sun.

“Ugh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I can’t believe I look like a zombie and you’re gonna make me late to the first day of school.”

“Wow.” Fuckin’ ingrate. And when he was just being so nice to her in his head. “How about a thank you, huh? ‘Thanks for picking me up, Steve. Thanks for bringing my backpack, Steve. Sorry you almost got shanked by your neighbor, Steve.’”

“You what???”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, yes it very much does matter, what the—”

“—I’m just saying, a little gratitude? Wouldn’t hurt you.”

He licks at the corner of his mouth, spritzes wiper fluid to clear the bugs off the windshield. Robin’s eyes are bulging out of her head, but he really doesn’t want to talk about how he still feels the ghost press of steel against his throat, so: “You’re not even right, by the way; I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Huh?”

“School started yesterday. I’m making you late for the second day of school.”

“Yesss,” she draws the word out like he’s stupid, rolling her wrist in a hurry up and get it motion, “but everyone knows that syllabus day doesn’t count. The first pep rally is the real first day of school.”

Ah, there it is.

Steve steals another peek at his best friend while they’re on a straightaway, notes the nervous twitch of her hands as she goes back to fussing at her reflection; the way she’s clumping her lashes together with seven coats too many of some drugstore brand mascara. She’s wearing lipstick. “This is about Vick—”

“—Don’t talk about—”

“—It’s about Vickie, isn’t it?”

“Ughhhhh.” Robin folds forward and thunks her head against the dash. “Fine, okay? Fine! Yes! This may have something to do with a distressingly cute fellow marching band member. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Oooh, big word for you, Steven.” She swats him on the shoulder, face all twisted up in offense. “Stop laughing!”

“Stop hitting me,” he laughs. “I’ll dump your ass out on this highway.”

She gasps and narrows her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Steve eases his foot onto the brake.

“Okay, okay! Mercy! I’m being an asshole, alright? I’m sorry. I’m just— I’m stressed! Being gay is very stressful.”

The knife incident pops back into his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I imagine it is.”

—

He catches himself slouching down into his seat a bit when they pull up to the school. Has to force himself to sit upright, hears his mother’s tutting in his ear about bad posture and the message it projects to the world.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be here; really, he isn’t. He’s just hoping to avoid being spotted by the nuggets now that they go here, too, lest he be accosted for evading his chauffeur duties.

God.

Dustin’s nerd shit is infecting his brain.

Robin grabs her bag out of the back seat, plants a parting peck on Steve’s cheek as she gets out of the car. “See you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up for work.”

“Love you, dingus.”

And then he’s alone again.

With Robin gone, Steve finds himself driving. Wandering and aimless, like a ghost who doesn’t know he’s gone. It’s not like he has nothing to do — he’s supposed to be out finding a second job, finding a way to support himself and his mom, because he’s the man of the house now. Because his life has turned into one of those shitty, overcomplicated word problems from math class.

If a recently widowed mother works no hours and her minimum-wage son works as many as Family Video will allow, how much mold-riddled dogshit housing can they afford?

Not much.

Inevitably, he finds himself circling the scorched bones of Starcourt, driving tired loops around the barbed wire perimeter. His ghost likes to guide him here; can’t shake the place where he shook off the mortal coil.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Steve Harrington died the day the mall burned down. Embarrassing, to not hear the death knell as his family name went up in smoke.

It was hard to hear much at all that night, between the concussion and the fireworks and the shrieking of a monster being torn apart, but the memory caresses his mind now in cruel whispers: the headrush of victory; the blood and the sweat; the relief that they’d won, they’d done it, it’s over, they won.

Steve tugs at his bad ear ‘til the ringing subsides.

Some fucking grand prize.

The thing is, you can’t go around exploding an eldritch horror without alerting the US government, and the US government can’t go around letting major investors in a hostile commie invasion keep their assets once they find out about their treasonous schemes. It happened fast: the arrest, the bail, the impending trial and the seizure of property. Richard Harrington was once a small town god on an invisible throne, making deals with devils in shadowy boardrooms, and suddenly he was looking at life in a cell.

Maybe it was a blessing he died before his reckoning was due. Maybe it was no accident at all.

The second, and perhaps more important, thing is: stray bullets don’t care about your looming court date.

Dad had a habit of cleaning his guns while he was drunk, nursing a whiskey in one hand while he polished the gleaming barrels with the other. Pointless, really, because the guns were always pristine to begin with. Dick Harrington didn’t hunt. Didn’t shoot. Claimed the pistol was for home defense, that he kept it loaded in case anyone ever tried to hurt his family, but Steve knew the truth.

His dad just liked to flirt with death. Liked to handle pretty, deadly things, stroke his fingers over ruthless metal and feel the rush of power when he walked away unscathed.

He didn’t walk away that night.

Didn’t even face death standing.

Sliced through his femoral artery and rolled right out of his chair.

They found him lying on the ground in a dark, sticky puddle, gasping like a fish as blood spurted from his thigh. Crazy how fast it happened. Steve had been in his room when the shot rang out, and he barely managed to reach the bottom of the stairs before the gurgling noises stopped. Just boom! whizz! bang! and Dick Harrington was gone.

Maybe it’s a good thing, too, that they lost the house.

The image of his mother in the hallway that night — shellshocked in the doorway, one pale hand shaking in front of her open mouth, features wide and wet with waking horror as she stared into the room — was enough to make him never want to step foot in the place again.

So now they live in a rundown piece of shit on the wrong side of town, with hideous burnt orange carpet and wood paneled walls, with cracks in the ceiling and cigarette burns in the walls, some parting gifts from whatever feral hick lived there before them, and it feels like another cruel, cosmic joke. Like the universe is delighting in the Harringtons’ comeuppance; like the blackened beams and brick rubble of Starcourt are all twisting to form one great, mocking mouth; the better to smile and laugh at their misfortune.

You bought your bed, now you have to lie in it.

He didn’t even know that the Harringtons owned Forest Hills until it was the only asset left to their name.

He’s pretty sure his dad bought it more as a joke than a genuine investment. Meant to teach Steve a lesson, like how he used to bring home Waffle House applications whenever Steve got a C on a report card. This is your future if you don’t straighten up, son.

Kill yourself, dad.

Oh, wait.

You already did.

—

part 4

[luvyeni]

— CONSEQUENCES OF A ONE NIGHT STAND !

( synopsis ). in which after a drunken hookup , y/n y/ln and are jake left with some heavy consequences and now they have to come to terms with it.

pairings. sim jaeyun x fem!reader

genre. social media, stranger to lovers, pregnancy au, smut, fluff, angst, crack

warnings. mature content, sex, talk of sex, language, crude jokes, more tba...

started. 07-14-23

finished. tba

💬 nia's notes. this is only FICTION this does not represent enhypen in anyway.

— 𖦹 PROFILES !

000. the new mother and the feral aunts and uncles , 000. the new father and the unhinged uncles

— 𖦹 MONTH ONE !

001. jump jake day , jobless jungwon and the cycle sisters 🤞🏻

002. baby shoes or bad food?

003. well , who is he ??

004. dots are connecting ....

005. from daddy 🥵😮‍💨 to just dad 🤢😐...

006. hey. heyy..

— 𖦹 MONTH TWO !

007. meeting the stranger...

008. little nugget 😭😭😭😭...

009. cupcakes 🧁

010. im being cooked😞

— 𖦹 MONTH THREE !

011. doctors appointment ✎

012. going home ...

013. im home ❤ ...

014. telling the parents (fail) ✎

015. first day on the job 👍🏻 ....

— 𖦹 MONTH FOUR !

016. a week of madness

017. on his last limb ...

018. playing house 🏡 ...

019. oh shit , he admitted it ...

020. jake not being a pussy 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

021. boy 👶🏻💙 or girl 👧🏻💕 ...

022. finally ... ✎

023. first date ( nice to see you again jake ) ...

— 𖦹 MONTH FIVE !

024. that wench 😒…

025. song jihae …

026. ni-ki about to fuck shit up …

027. explanations …

028. daddy and son date🤍…

029. sunoo finds out 😳…

030. jungwon explain…

031. it all comes out …

032. lol …

MONTH SIX IS A TIME SKIP !

— 𖦹 MONTH SEVEN !

033. she’s back ✨🖤

034. miserable …

035. stop reading my mind …

036. moving day ❗️…

037. ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

038. it all comes out ( jake version ) …

039. forgive ( friends? )…

— 𖦹 MONTH EIGHT !

040. back like i never left🔥💪🏼 …

041. we lost him 😔…

042. frustration + knife + hand = emergency room 😨 …

043. taking it slow …

044. it’s time …

045. they’re a family 🥲🥲🥲

EPILOGUE

046. watch baby minji grow up💕 …

— ( taglist. ) ask to be added !

©️LUVYENI

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: You met Eddie on a night out at the Hideout and maybe it was his big brown eyes, the way he kept telling you how pretty you look or the tequila shots but one thing led to another and you two hooked up in the back of his van. Now in a perfect world that would’ve been the end of it because that’s the thing with one night stands you normally don’t have to see them ever again. Well expect in your case you’ll be seeing a lot more of Eddie, because just three weeks after your little late night meeting in his van you find out you’re pregnant. So this series is all about how you and Eddie navigate being soon to be parents and also getting to know each other…let the fun begin!✨

A/N: This is going to be a twist on an enemies to lovers type thing! Also if you’d like on the tag list for this series let me know.

Status: Completed🖤

Conversations: Here

Instagrams: Here

Fics: Here

Extras: Here

*This is mainly a texting series and you’ll find everything in order below*

Part 1: Not In Love bonus fic of night you met here

Part 2: Stress Eater

Part 3: Mean It

Part 4: Kids bonus text with Steve here

Part 5: What’s Wrong? bonus convo with Wayne here

Part 6: Seven Up instagram extras here

Part 7: Baby Shit Eddie talking to the baby here

Part 8: Backseat Eddie texting Steve here bonus convo with Eddie here

Part 9: Curly Hair convo with Eddie when he picks you up here

Part 10: Nuggets bonus convo here

Part 11: Apartments bonus convo with you and Wayne here

Part 12: Halloween bonus convo with Eddie and Wayne here

Part 13: Friends bonus convos with Eddie here

Part 14: I’m Trying bonus convo with Eddie here

Part 15: Shoes

Part 16: Soothing

Part 17: Moment bonus convo with Eddie here

Part 18: Peach Rings bonus convo with Wayne and Eddie here

Part 19: The Chair

Part 20: Bestfriend

Part 21: Max

Part 22: Sagittarius bonus texts with Steve here

Part 23: Coming Home

Part 24: Lair

Part 25: Time Flies

[avatar-anna]

Hello! I was wondering if you got a request i sent recently? 🤔 it was about dad!harry with Y/N and the girls having their periods all synced up (if you did and didn’t like it that’s totally fine too!!)

Merry and Bright

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader Universe

Merry Christmas from your favorite fictional family! They're all grown up in this one! Enjoy!xx

*.*

When Harry woke up with a small foot in his face, he knew he shouldn't have been surprised, but he was.

He blinked slowly, trying to remember if he and his wife went to bed alone or not. Looking to his side, he saw Y/n sound asleep with her back facing him, a small body in pajamas that matched every member of this family's—cream colored with decorated sugar cookies on them—stretched horizontally across the bed, hence the foot in his face.

Looking at the clock by his bed, Harry's brows raised. It was just after eight, rather late for Christmas morning, though most of the kids were a little older now, and Charlie notoriously slept like the dead despite being five. Still, he expected, maybe even missed, being woken up before the sun came up on Christmas morning because Santa had come and presents had to be opened right away.

Waking up with a little foot in the face or with multiple bodies bouncing on the bed, he wasn't sure which he preferred.

"The morning I don't wake up with a limb in my face could not come soon enough," he grumbled to himself anyway, carefully trying to move his sleeping daughter into a more comfortable position, only to end up with Charlie sprawled across his chest entirely, one hand holding onto a strand of his hair by his ear.

"You should've thought about that before you went and got me pregnant again."

Harry blew out an amused breath. Clearly, Y/n was not as asleep as he thought she was. He tugged a strand of her hair that was splayed across her pillow. "You were all for it at the time."

"I'm not the one complaining about the—Oh," Y/n hissed, her shoulders tensing a little.

Concerned, Harry shifted their still-sleeping daughter in the space between him and Y/n so he could shuffle closer to his wife. He rested a hand on her back and kissed the top of her head. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just cramps. I'll be fine in a minute," she said as she began to shuffle out of bed.

Harry moved his hand to her shoulder to push her back onto the bed. He handed the five-year-old over to Y/n, who immediately curled into her mother's arms. "I'm sorry, love. Why don't you hold onto this little nugget while I get your heating pad."

"It's okay, H. Everyone will be up soon, and—"

"Let me take care of Christmas waffles. You can come down when Charlie wakes up, okay?"

His love smiled sleepily at him before taking his hand in hers and kissing it. "You're too sweet."

"Remember that the next time you're annoyed with me," Harry said with a chuckle. With a kiss to her forehead, he said, "Merry Christmas, my love," then slipped into a robe and left the room.

After getting Y/n's heating pad and making sure Y/n and Charlie were comfortable in bed, he went about getting his day started. He knew he was in for a long day, so he set out to make their traditional big Christmas breakfast for the whole family—waffles, bacon, cut-up fruit, and hot cocoa. He lit up the Christmas tree and turned on the train track he and Julian had been setting up since Jules was seven years old, ensuring everything was ready for when everyone filed down to open presents. Year after year, Christmas morning began later and later. Honestly, Harry thought he would come to appreciate sleeping in an extra couple of hours, but he often found himself missing the days when all of his babies were living at home and opened Christmas presents at six in the morning.

There were perhaps fifteen minutes of peace before Harry could hear sounds of life upstairs. It was like a small wave, a shuffling of feet and the rush of water as his children began brushing their teeth, then there was the thunderous sound of feet rushing down the stairs as the realization that it wasn't an ordinary morning struck. GiGi and Natalia were the first ones to skid to a halt downstairs, excited smiles on their faces as they beheld the small mountain of gifts under the Christmas tree and the smell of waffles coming from the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas!"

Natalia bounded over to Harry, jumping into his arms. He had a split second to set his batter-covered spoon down to catch her. "Merry Christmas, Peanut. Did you wake everyone up yet?"

"Almost," Geneva said as she picked at the bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter. "Simone said we can't wake her up until nine."

"Ah. I see," Harry said, knowing full well that his oldest daughter had been out late with her friends last night. "Well, why don't you go and tell her that I'm going to give away her presents and her waffle if she doesn't come down soon."

Natalia and Geneva grinned devilishly, very much on board with bugging their older sister. They scurried back upstairs, giggling to each other as they did so.

Julian was the next to come down, his light brown hair was wet and curly from his shower, a small frown on his face from the early wake-up call. "Collette threw a shoe at me for taking all the hot water."

Harry knew there was probably more to it than that, so he just ruffled his only son's hair affectionately as Jules passed him by the stove. "Be patient, Jules, they're—"

"Going through a lot, I know," he said, shaking his head a little. "Doesn't mean I had to get a shoe thrown at me for it. On Christmas, no less."

Harry gave Jules a pointed look, not completely buying his son's innocence. At his stare, Julian suddenly found the growing stack of waffles Harry was plating very interesting, a small blush on his cheeks.

As the only two boys in the house, Harry and Jules were often on an island of their own, especially one week each month. Over the years, Harry would take Julian and the little ones out of the house for a couple hours when it felt like the two of them were against the rest of the house. Julian didn't mind the occasional quarreling and mood swings that his sisters displayed as much as other brothers might, but Harry knew that his son's patience had its limits. Especially on Christmas morning.

"Go be the favorite child and take this up to your mum, will you?" Harry said, handing over a plate piled high with food.

Scoffing jokingly, Julian said, "Please. I've always been Mom's favorite."

*.*

Harry didn't normally complain about the state of his home, but right now he felt like he was living in a madhouse. Or a landmine.

The key was understanding what made the girls tick—what their symptoms were, what they typically craved, who had a tendency to cry at the drop of a hat. When it was just Y/n, Harry cuddled her in bed, brought her painkillers, and kissed her whenever she needed him to. And then it was Y/n and Simone, and Harry was caring and understanding toward both of them. And then suddenly he was in a house with five women who all got their period at the same time.

The day had gone rather smoothly so far. Everyone eventually trickled down the stairs to eat breakfast and open presents, and the house was soon flooded with wrapping paper, bows, and discarded gift boxes. Harry smiled from ear to ear the whole time as his kids opened their gifts. Even though he could afford to spoil each and every one of his kids every day of the week, Y/n wouldn't let him. She compromised with birthdays and Christmas, but Christmas was when Harry put out all the stops. All year he would plan and plan, ask for Christmas lists months in advance, and spend hours shopping. Y/n used to sigh exasperatedly at her husband's antics, but in the end, she finally let it go. Christmas shopping was one stressor that wasn't on her plate, and she wasn't going to complain about that anymore.

"GiGi, darling, you have to start getting ready for the recital," he said through the door to his daughter's room. Geneva still got embarrassed about getting her period, and now was definitely one of those times.

"I'm not going!"

Harry sighed but decided to move on for now. Y/n would be able to get GiGi dressed and ready to go better than he could, which stung, but he got over it somewhat after his first two daughters. And there were a number of things he could be taking care of to make sure they got out of the house on time, anyway.

When he got back downstairs, Julian, Y/n, and Charlie were in the kitchen, all dressed in their Christmas best. Y/n was straightening the collar of Julian's dress shirt while Charlie clung to his back. Harry made a beeline for his wife, kissing the back of her head as he snaked a hand around her waist.

"You look beautiful," Harry said softly, his thumb rubbing the silky material of her satin skirt.

"What about me, Daddy?"

Harry looked at his youngest daughter. Her hair was done up in a tight bun, most likely done by Y/n, and she was already dressed in her leotard and tights. The only thing missing was the matching sparkly tutu and snowflake hairpiece, but that would come later.

"You look wonderful," Harry said. "You excited for tonight?"

Charlie nodded excitedly, her broad grin nearly identical to her mother's save the dimples in her cheeks. "JuJu's been helping me with my dance.

"It's nothing," Julian said, who was now holding Charlie on his hip since Y/n was done fixing his dress shirt and doing up his tie. Charlie giggled, which made him offer her a small high-five. They were an unusual pair considering their age difference, but Julian loved doting on his littlest sister. And molding her into his little sidekick. "First ones ready though, weren't we, Charlie?"

Y/n shot Julian a look, knowing he was teasing his sisters. Normally, she didn't mind so much, but there were a lot of ever-changing emotions running through the house currently, and it was easier to keep the peace than put out a fire. To Harry, she said, "The girls are getting dressed. Collette wanted to film, but I made sure she gave herself enough time to be ready otherwise she'd have to drive separately. And Maeve was lacing up her shoes when I checked in.”

Nodding, Harry asked, "Can you go talk to Gi? She's...not eager to leave the house."

"Already on it," Y/n said, ruffling Julian's hair as she walked by, which he immediately swatted.

"Do you want to practice at all before we leave?" Harry asked, turning to the youngest member of his family. He wasn't totally surprised that they were spending their Christmas evening at a holiday dance recital, seeing as this was one in a long line of pageants and concerts, but Charlie seemed the most committed to dance out of all his children, even at just five years old. To Harry, it felt like they'd gone to every match, game, meet, and recital possible. Between the seven kids, there was no sport or extracurricular left unturned, but he was often fond of watching his kids perform on a stage of any kind.

Charlie nodded excitedly, shimmying down from Julian's hip. "I've been practicing really hard!"

"She has. Her pirouette is flawless," Jules said with a serious nod of his head.

"Alrighty, let's see it, peanut," Harry said, kissing her forehead.

It wasn't a long routine. Charlie was five, after all. There was a lot of choreographed walking, a couple turns and leaps, and arms spread out wide and above her head. Harry was sure there would be a handful of mess-ups during the performance, and one child would probably end up crying backstage, but Harry, along with the rest of the Styles clan, would cheer for the youngest member of their family as if they were watching a professional ballet performance.

By the time Charlie finished showing Harry, and Julian her routine, more of the family had found their way downstairs. Simone shuffled around in her slippers, a pair of heeled boots in her hands, Natalia and Geneva trailing behind her with matching French braids in their hair, Y/n bringing up the rear. Geneva seemed to be in much better spirits than when Harry spoke to her, which he could only be thankful for. He and his wife were a team after all, and they didn't keep score on parental abilities and duties. Not anymore, anyway, but it had all been in good fun.

"Collette's just finishing up Maeve's hair," Simone said, going over to stand by her brother.

"Perfect," Harry said, checking his watch, a brand new gift from Y/n. There was an inscription on the back with the date, which nearly made Harry cry when he saw it. To my greatest love, it read, with seven little Xs to represent each of their children. "We're right on schedule."

"Since when have we ever followed a schedule?" Simone asked.

"You haven't heard? Dad's gone full-on dance mom," Julian said. "All the other moms in Charlie's class are in love with him because he stays and watches her rehearsals every week."

Simone's brows raised, no doubt a tease for her father poised on her lips, but Harry was quick to interject. "That's not true!"

"It's a little true, baby," Y/n said, coming over to kiss him on the cheek. Even in his late thirties, her husband was undeniably handsome. She'd given up on having feelings about people openly oggling her husband years ago. She knew Harry would never be interested in anyone else. They could look, but never touch, and that was enough for Y/n. "But you're still the best dance-dad ever."

"We're ready!"

Collette and Maeve bounded down the stairs curled to perfection as it bounced with each step. Harry noticed that Collette was wearing an old sweater from his closet, probably one she'd nabbed while he was on a trip, but he decided not to comment on it. He saw the look on his wife's face, though. Y/n's expression was soft as if she was recalling a memory from years ago.

Squeezing her hand once, Harry began ushering everyone out of the house and into the car. Two cars, actually. Driving separately was a common occurrence when the family was all together. Y/n and Harry learned rather quickly that arguments were less likely to break out if the kids weren't packed together in the back seats like sardines. So Harry and Y/n took the twins and Charlie in one car, and Simone drove Collette, Geneva, and Natalia in the other.

Harry sometimes couldn't quite believe that his little girl was in college, let alone driving on her own places. In a lot of ways, Harry and Simone had grown up together as he learned how to become a father at such a young age while simultaneously trying to raise a baby with Y/n. He'd grown up wanting to give his daughter the world, and as he watched her slide into the front seat of her car, one that she bought with her own money after saving up for the last couple years, smiling and laughing at something one of her younger sisters said, he could only hope he'd fulfilled that wish.

Later on, Harry was backstage with Charlie. Her snowflake headpiece was an immovable force on her head, her cheeks sparkled with a little glitter that all the other little snowflakes were wearing as part of their costume, and her white tutu sparkled under the lights of the school auditorium they were in. Charlie had a small pout on her face as she shifted nervously from foot to foot, her big eyes wide as the nerves settled in.

"You're gonna do great, peanut," Harry assured, his gaze level with hers as he knelt down on the floor. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but you're the best ballerina here."

"Really?" A small smile threatened to break through Charlie's nervous frown, and Harry knew she would be ready to go out and perform any minute now.

"Really," he promised, kissing her cheek. Charlie's cheeks had been adorably round when she was a baby, but most of the baby fat had disappeared now that she was a little older, but Harry still thought she would be the cutest, most talented dancer out on that stage tonight. "And even if you do mess up, or if you forget a step, I'm still gonna be so proud of you. We all will be. Okay? If you get nervous out there, look for me."

"Okay, Daddy."

Harry figured Charlie was as ready as she'd ever be. "Alright then. Give your dad one last squeeze."

Charlie lept into Harry's arms, squeezing him for all she was worth. He held her close, careful not to smush the glittery tutu between them. Only letting go when she began to wriggle around in his arms, Harry stood up and walked Charlie to where the rest of the little snowflakes were standing as they waited to go onstage. She wouldn't let him leave until the very last minute, only letting go of his hand when her dance teacher it was nearly time for them to start. Harry gave her one last kiss on top of her head before heading to his seat where the rest of his family was waiting.

It was a good turnout. His and Y/n's parents were in the row behind Y/n and the kids, along with one of Harry's old bandmates who happened to be in town for the holidays. Harry didn't get to see them as much as he would've liked these days, but he knew that any of them would drop any and everything for his kids. Just a few years ago, they all showed up for Simone's high school graduation.

"Everything okay back there?" Y/n asked as Harry settled down in his seat.

He took her hand in his and set it in his lap, his thumb grazing over hers absentmindedly. "Should be. Gave her a pretty good pep talk if I do say so myself."

Y/n scoffed playfully, knowing full well that Charlie was one hundred percent a "daddy's girl." Before she could say anything, though, Harry's mother leaned forward in her seat to ask about their post-recital dinner plans, and shortly after that, the lights dimmed and the performances began.

When it was done, the small section dedicated to Charlie's biggest fans cheered loudly, not caring that phones were turned in their direction or that they were maybe being too loud for a kindergarten dance recital. None of that mattered to Harry as Charlie beamed at them from the stage as she took a final bow, waving at her family excitedly.

At the end of the night, as Harry and Y/n got into bed, he couldn't help but grin at another perfect Christmas completed. It was off to an unusually slow start, and there was definitely potential for tears and arguments, but he couldn't have been more pleased by how everything turned out.

There was a time when even though Harry loved Christmas with Simone, then Simone and Collette, and so on, he somewhat mourned the idea of a Christmas with just Y/n. Because they had their daughter so young, he and Y/n never had the opportunity to enjoy the holidays just by themselves. It would've been nice, but Harry wouldn't change his experiences for the world, and he eventually didn't even want to think about what Christmas without his family looked like. Those memories were too precious to regret or want to change, and he knew Y/n felt the same.

"Another perfect Christmas for the books," he said as he climbed into bed next to Y/n, just half of their family Christmas pajamas on. He tended to do away with a shirt if he thought he and Y/n could get away with sleeping by themselves without any midnight intruders.

"Mm. I'd say so," Y/n agreed as she snuggled up to Harry's side. "Charlie was so good tonight, wasn't she?"

Harry's heart swelled with pride at the thought of his daughter's performance tonight. "Definitely a career there if she wants one."

"Easy there," his wife chuckled. "She's only five."

Harry merely nodded, but he was already thinking about the future Charlie's talent could give her. He didn't care if that did make him somewhat of a "dance mom," he just wanted his kids to be happy, and if a dance career was what Charlie wanted, then Harry would do everything he could to help her get there.

"I do have one more gift."

"Really?" Harry couldn't think of anything else he could possibly need, but he watched curiously as Y/n shuffled away from him to root around her nightstand for something. When she found it, she sat up to face him better.

With wide eyes, Harry stared as she opened up a small velvet box, a sleek metal band inside it. He couldn't even form words as he looked at it, eyes suddenly welling up with tears he didn't want to shed until Y/n explained.

"Maybe I should've done this at dinner tonight with our parents and the kids, but I wanted this moment to just be ours," she said, cheeks turning a little pink. "I—I know we're already married, but that was seventeen years ago, H. Can you believe that?"

"I don't know where the time's gone," he breathed. They were the first words that came to mind.

"Time flies when you get me pregnant six times," she teased, reaching out a hand to cup his cheek. Her thumb moved across his skin, wiping away a tear he didn't even realize had fallen. "But I just thought now that our family is officially complete. And I really do mean that. We could renew our vows or something. Usually that sort of thing is reserved for special anniversaries, but the timing feels right, and I found out I was pregnant when I was seventeen, so—"

"It's perfect," Harry said.

Y/n looked up at him nervously, as if he would've disagreed for some reason. "Really?"

"Yes, Mama. This is—This is the best gift you've ever given me. Outside those precious little humans in our house right now," Harry said, adding the last part as an afterthought. "I can't think of a better way to end my Christmas."

Harry let Y/n slide the ring onto his finger. Y/n had had a small band for a long time now, an anniversary gift to commemorate their small wedding all those years ago. Harry couldn't wear one at the time because their relationship, along with the rest of his family, was a heavily guarded secret, and a band on his left ring finger would draw way too many questions.

But their relationship wasn't a secret anymore, and while they did their best to stay out of the limelight, Harry had no problem with wearing the ring. He would get something for Y/n too. He'd always wanted to get her a big ring, one that signified just how much he loved and appreciated and admired her, both as his partner and the mother of his children. Now was the perfect opportunity.

"You really outdid yourself this year, Mama," Harry murmured, sliding a hand into her hair to cup one side of her face.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I was partially drawn to the idea after thinking we could have a honeymoon afterward?" she said, a small smirk on her face.

"You've really thought this through, huh?"

Y/n kissed Harry on the lips. A peck, really, and he suddenly needed much more. "Mmhm. Want to hear the details now or later?"

Later, definitely later, Harry thought, but he opted to just kiss his wife instead.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Everyone's ages:

Harry: 39

Y/n: 39

Simone: 20

Collette: 17

Twins: 16

Geneva: 12

Natalia: 11

Charlie: 5

[withacapitalp]

The kids cannot figure out which of them is Steve’s favorite. 

At first, they think it’s Dustin. Dustin was the first one after all. And it’s true that Dustin and Steve have a secret handshake, and when Steve counts the Party off by number, Dustin is always number one, but they all have special little things. 

Steve drives Max to PT three times a week, and she stays at his house from Thursday to Sunday so her mom can get a bit of a break and work on herself. He plays basketball with Lucas whenever he asks, and is always finding tiny ways to include him in every conversation. Will gets new art supplies pretty much any time Steve sees him. El was the first one that Steve called his sibling, casually slipping the words little sister in one day when he asked her if she wanted to get a waffle at the diner. Erica will always have their ice cream days

Even Mike, who was sure he was the only one who was out of the running, sometimes feels like he might be the favorite. When the world starts to close in on him, and he can’t make anything feel safe, he can call Steve. Steve always comes right away, and they drive around Hawkins for hours and hours. Steve doesn’t talk, but Mike does. And whatever he says never leaves the car. 

The secret is Steve doesn’t have a favorite. He loves them all in different and important ways. He might feel closer to one or the other on some days, but they each have the same size piece of his heart.

[thatonesongyouretryingtoremember]

I always wanted to take my 6 lil nuggets around the country in something nice like this

[ID: Down with cis bus : end ID]

[demonictacobeard]

Adam, still going through it, texting Lucifer because that’s the only fucker he knows here who he only hates most of the time: Why is a fucking pig lying on my bed?!

Lucifer, texting back right away: It’s hard being the only one of your kind in a place, he must have been so excited to hear you were here that he came to see you himself

Adam, using Doomgle for the first time to find pictures of ducks saying die in a fire: Die

Lucifer, torn between being pissed at the duck meme or loving it: You first, no that would be second wouldn’t it?

Adam, sending a rolling eyes Hellmoji: Oh no I’m dead, so fucking original. Not like I haven’t done this before, bitch nothing you say will piss me off more then dying from advanced aging

Angel Dust, accidentally reading the whole thing over his shoulder, an easy task: That’s where Fat Nugget is?! Fuck, why’d he run off there? I don’t wanna go into the depression cave, and I know Adam doesn’t want me to come knocking either

Lucifer, waving his hand and opening a portal into Adam’s room: I’ve got this. Adam! You can deposit the pig here into the waiting arms of his owner

Adam, shoving his hands through the portal while holding a whining Fat Nugget: Who’s miniature ham is this even?

Angel Dust, scooping Fat Nugget up: Mine! Nugget, my sweet little shit. Why’d you go and fall asleep in a lamb paddock?

Adam, flipping Angel off through the portal and slowly dragging his hand out of it: Wilbur got lonely, guess Charlotte isn’t entertaining after all huh?

Angel Dust, flipping him off back with his lower arms: Just shut up you shitty ass sheep, a Shepard would leave you behind on purpose

Lucifer, cutting that short by closing the portal: Charlie’s going to be so happy he spoke to someone today

Husk, cleaning his lemon juicer: She’ll be happier about it then Adam himself

Lucifer, shaking his head: No, trust me he lives for this shit. He’d rather argue then being left completely to himself. Because if he’s all alone he’ll get bored. He hates being bored

Angel raising a suggestive eyebrow: And…your majesty just how do you know that?

Husk, slapping his face because he warned Angel about teasing the King Of Hell a hundred times: He has fun undoing everything I do to keep his ass alive, doesn’t he?

Lucifer, staring at him silently before laughing a little too loudly: No reason!

Angel after Lucifer tugs his collar and leaves awkwardly: I think the king doth protest too much, Husk

Husk, sighing: I think you are doth interested, in the business of a man who can kill a seven deadly sin if he wanted to, too much

[ncteez]

Give & Take (l.s)

It’s not weird that you and your roommate do certain things that others would consider, um, strange. It’s not weird because you don’t make it weird, and he certainly doesn’t go out of his way to make a big deal either. 

or the one where you and your roommate masturbate together casually until it becomes not so casual, and maybe neither of you can do it at this point without wanting more.

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give seokmin a boner 

minors dni!! 

WORDCOUNT― 6.6k

PAIRING― seokmin x afab reader 

CONTENT― roommate au, roommates to lovers

NOTE― This is dedicated to @onlyseokmins and that’s all I have to say about this. (i’m a liar i actually want this man so bad so here’s my need for him in fic form and also a direct attack on elv.) not proof read.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― big dick seokmin, mutual masturbation, pining, desperate stuff i guess, pretending he’s fucking you instead of his hand,  just the tip moment, unprotected sex, he pulls out bc he’s polite. ~

Moving in with Seokmin was a no-brainer. Both of you were freshly graduated from the same college and starting new jobs in the same city hours away from home. Seeing a familiar face in a city of bustling businesses and loud streets was a welcome comfort for you, living with that familiar face only made it easier. 

It wouldn’t be a lie to say that back during the college days, you and Seokmin weren’t close. Not until your senior year together that the two of you somehow met in the middle with a single class despite the drastically different majors. He took it as an elective, yours was the last “easy” class to get through before graduation, because maybe your advisor fucked up and never told you it was necessary to take, and maybe you were a little mad about it. 

You became less mad as you helped Seokmin through his struggles. An elective for him was a career for you, so it was easy to walk him through it. You grew close within the stress of senior year so of course, when you found out he was moving to the same city that you’re moving to, you instantly jumped into action in trying to convince him to save money by living together with you. 

It’s a big city, and while you both had jobs lined up, it’s not like the pay was enough for one person to afford an apartment in the heart of the city. Thankfully, he didn’t need to be swayed and it only took a few weeks for the two of you to head out and explore the apartments offered, landing on one that leaves an equal distance both of you would need to travel to work. One that only costs some seven hundred and fifty dollars a month each (a hefty amount for just one person.) 

By now, it’s been about six months since the two of you settled here in the heart of a great city. Work has been going smoothly despite the tired nights when the two of you meet up outside (because somehow you both clock out at the same time too) and decide on whether you want to walk to a shop for dinner or fight over who is gonna put the nuggets in the oven this time. 

Things were normal for the most part, you think, regarding roommates anyway. There is one thing that’s changed though. Not your fondness of him, not even the way you look at him when he’s being annoying and loud while singing in the shower. 

It started about two months into living in this space with him. He must have lost track of the time that day because he knew your schedule then and still knows it now like the back of his hand. He took the day off, feigning sickness after a long Sunday of doing absolutely nothing and wanting to extend it just a bit longer through the following Monday. You worked that day, of course, you did. You came home on time as you always did too, except this time you didn’t come home to him in his room or cooking dinner. 

It was a weird kind of rush, wondering how the fuck this could be happening as you stood at your doorway to find him exposing more of himself than you ever expected or wanted to see at the time. There, on the couch was your dope of a roommate, legs spread wide and length in hand. On the tv played nothing, but his phone was propped on his thigh as he stared down at it with deep sighs. 

You were frozen at that moment, watching him and feeling your cheeks warm up. You didn’t know if you should turn to leave, make a noise so he stops, or just watch. Somehow, you found yourself not wanting to disturb him. Was it because you liked what you saw? At the time, you would have said absolutely not. But seeing how it is now, it’s more common than not to see him orgasm, it’s kind of laughable.

On that day, he must have felt someone watching him because mid-stroke he looked up at you and fumbled his pants back over his length. Muffling apologies with raspy whispers, skin glistening on his forehead indicating he must’ve been at it for a while, and you were just standing there silent. 

That night, you laid in your bed wondering why you couldn’t get that image out of your head. Seeing him like that wasn’t something you ever thought about despite how handsome he is. He’s your friend, he’s your roommate. You can’t stop thinking now though, about how big he is in all of his entirety. From his height to his– yeah. 

It went on like that for about two weeks. You, not able to get that image out of your head and him, acting as normal as ever as if it never happened. It wasn’t until the end of that two-week time span that you realized you enjoyed it. Like you would have liked to have seen him finish. 

It swam in your brain for a while, wondering if you should bring it up or if you should push past it and find some guy to meet up with just to work out the horny energy, after all, it’s not like you know anyone in this city well enough to have an intimate relationship with. No one besides Seokmin anyway. Dilemmas, dilemmas. 

Not so much a dilemma though, to your pleasure. It’s brought up one night on a Saturday as the two of you say at the kitchen table complaining about work. Minutes passed, then an hour passed and he suggested having a drink to wind down. You accepted, sipping the alcohol he so proudly made for you. 

It felt warm in the apartment by that point, but you didn’t mind as you found your brain falling back to that image of him. You thought he might be wearing the same shirt that we was wearing that day, which is kind of detrimental for your fogging brain. But, he brings it up. 

“You know, you’ve been kind of weird since that day.” He commented, running his fingers along the rim of his glass. “I really did lose track of time, and I can’t stop feeling embarrassed by it.”

You could see a softer side of him at that moment. Out of how long you’ve known him by now, never once have you seen him embarrassed. 

“About that,” You started, not able to look him in the eye. “I was shocked but–” 

The way he looked at you at that moment was difficult to process. It was new ground for both of you. 

“I think I liked it?”

~

The tip-toeing around each other didn’t last as long as you expected it to. After the talk you had with him on that Saturday night, somehow the two of you ended up doing the very thing that had you in a rut in the first place.

You got to watch him in full, working himself up until he suggested you join, that maybe he’d be into it too. Saying that he felt weird being the only one, though he didn’t mind that you were watching. You don’t know what got into you that night, maybe it was the alcohol, but you did join him. A full five feet away from each other but shamelessly watching hand movements until orgasm. You noted him holding off too, until you got there. It was an interesting dynamic, truly. 

And now, six months into living with him, it’s become a normal occurrence. After every hard day at work, “wanna get off with me?”, after every long movie session or board game loss, “wanna watch each other come?”, to the point that now it’s nearing every day. Any self-fuck session became a shared one. 

Sometimes he even texts you from his room late at night. It’s like you know his jerk-off schedule more than your own work schedule by now. Sometimes, you don’t even touch yourself but instead, enjoy watching him get there with a little help from you, taking off your shirt or spreading your legs. It’s become a thing. And somehow, it’s not as weird as it should be. 

“You got plans this weekend?” Seokmin bellows through a yawn from his room after hearing your alarm go off. 

“Since when do I ever have plans?” You say through your own yawn after pulling yourself out of the bed. You tiptoe the few feet from your door to his, leaning against it and scratching the back of your neck. “Why?”

He stretches loud and obnoxiously before rolling over and planting his face into his pillows. 

“Wanna skip out on work today?” 

You step into his room, throwing yourself on top of him with a tired groan. 

“Yeah,” You sigh out, closing your eyes and fully aware that you could go back to sleep right now despite this uncomfortable position over your roommate. “but why?”

His voice is muffled more by the pillows when he answers you, mostly because your body weight is pressing him further down. He fights to turn his head away from the pillow, takes in a deep breath from the brief smothering, and smiles. 

“I dunno, we haven’t really had a chance to go out and explore the city much outside of furniture and grocery shopping.” 

You realize that he’s right. You’ve heard talk of the malls in this area, of the theme parks, the museums. There’s so much to do here, and neither of you have really attempted to do any of it. 

“Starting today, because we are going to skip work,” He narrows his eyes as he lifts his body up and forces you to roll off of him. “You are going to skip, right?”

You nod, waiting for him to continue what he was originally going to say. 

“We should go out and explore. Rent is paid already, fridge is full, I saved up a bit so we could go do some stuff.”

It flies right past your head. You don’t even stop to think that he saved up to do this with you, and instead you simply nod with a smile before hopping off of him and rolling off of the bed to your feet.

“Guess I should call my boss.” You shrug, starting to leave the room. 

“Wanna sleep a little more first? Kind of dumb to skip out on work and not sleep in.”

You nod again, yawning and looking down at your phone to search for your workplace number. Thankfully, after calling, there was no issue with you skipping work today. After all, you haven’t really missed a single day since you started (unlike some people: seokmin.)

~

Friday was eventful, the two of you walked to all of the shops closest to your apartment, stepping into a cafe and having some coffee, then went to a pristine shopping district and scoffed together at the price of a pair of socks. 

By the time you got home, you were just as tired as you would have been coming home from work, and he was still bouncing on his feet. Drinks, dinner, sleep. 

No casual masturbation that day.

On Saturday, it started much the same except this time the two of you went to a mall. Why he kept insisting on buying you cute panties and matching bras? You know the answer. You’re kind of part of his porn collection now, and he is part of yours too. Maybe he considered it a little too hard when you also suggested he get a cute pair of panties to wear. He didn’t though, and instead bought you like six too-expensive sets of lingerie. Each color to match whatever horny brain he’s in, you assume. 

That night, the two of you ate at a restaurant and took a taxi back home. Sitting beside him on the couch, a question started floating in your brain and by now you knew better than to keep these kinds of things to yourself given the dynamic you have with him.

“You know, you’re buying me all of this sexy stuff–” 

“I am, yeah.” He smiles proudly, eyes crinkling as his eyes shoot to the bag on the kitchen table. 

“Why aren’t you just going out to meet someone instead of settling with jerking off all the time?”

He doesn’t even hesitate.

“That’s a lot of work, why would I do that when you’re right here?”

Why would he do that if you’re here? 

“Why, you getting bored of me?” He jokes, leaning against you and nudging your shoulder. “Should I have bought those panties to spice it up a bit?”

God, it’s so weird how normal this is. No touching each other, only looking. Desperate looking at that, searing eyes, extremely hot orgasms, wobbling legs, and then sleeping alone. Would it really be so strange at this point to want to touch him? To want to spice it up not with panties, but with the act of actually feeling how warm he is? 

“Oh no.” He pauses, eyes widening. “You actually wanted me to wear those?”

“No!” You laugh, though it would’ve maybe awoken something in you, you’re not sure. “I just figured you know, it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to go get laid.”

He stares are you before throwing out another joke. 

“I know that.” He laughs, turning to face you. “It’s not like it would be hard for you either. Why aren’t you out and about instead of sitting in front of me and touching yourself?”

You freeze at his words, realizing that so many times it’s been silent sessions together save for moaning. He’s never actually said those words to you, never dirty talked, never crossed an invisible line while it happened. 

“Would you prefer I go find someone else?” You avoid the feeling in your gut right now only briefly, staring him down.

“No, I’d honestly prefer you touch yourself for me and only me.” 

Oh. Oh fucking no. 

“That’s all you need to be satisfied?” 

He smiles proudly again, eyes flicking back over to the bag and you shake your head at him. 

“We need to wash those before I wear them so you’re gonna have to deal with the boring panties I wore today, I guess.”

He nods, already following suit on the regular list of things he does when this happens. 

It’s always so quiet, and never did it bother you until now. Watching him do nothing but grab his length and squeeze it until it starts to harden. Eyes on you as you do your own version of working yourself up, hand down your waist band and simply touching and rubbing until you feel the first sensation of your gut flipping.

“Seokmin.” You start, looking at him through narrow eyes. This is enough for you, but…is it?

“Hm?” He responds, eyes focused on the movement under your shorts. 

“Can you talk a little bit this time?” 

He smiles, chuckling a bit at you for the question.

“Oh, you’re into that?” He says almost in a mocking tone, but it sends a little wave of heat through his body to have you asking for more of him in some way. “I can’t promise I won’t say something stupid though.”

You shake your head, running your fingers up your folds and stopping at your clit.

“I don’t care what you say, I just really like your voice right now.”

Another pause from him as you watch him adjust his almost fully erect length under his pants. 

“Only right now?” He asks, trailing his fingers gently along the underside of his length and turning his body back to where his back is against the couch cushions. 

“No, I mean, I like your voice all the time but you never say much when we do this–” You admit, watching him intently like you always do, feeling the clock tick up to the point you know he’s going to pull it out and start sighing. 

“Alright, does this mean I can ask for something too?”

You quirk a brow at that but quickly nod in anticipation because finally, this is going somewhere past just watching. 

“Can we like, um–” He blushes mid-question, turning his face to look at you with all of his shame showing plainly. “Can we do it in an actual position for once?”

You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you or if he’s actually wanting to pretend he’s fucking you by suggesting that. Immediately you fumble with the button on your shorts to get them off. 

“Yeah, Oh–” You stop yourself from sounding too excited. “I mean, like, what position?”

“Can I be on top?” He blurts, pulling his hand away from his length and once again looking at you and the way your fingers remain on the hem of your shorts, preparing to take them off. 

The image alone in your head of that is enough to want exactly what he wants, if not more. The illusion of him fucking you while you fuck yourself? You really couldn’t ask for more than that at this moment, though that could be argued if you think too hard about it.

“Deal.” 

The second you say that word, he’s jumping up and practically tearing his pants off of him. His eagerness is as loud and obnoxious as always, you can even hear a small “fuck yeah” whispered to himself when he does it. All is well and good until he’s tugging your shorts down for you.

Never has he taken your clothes off for you. The intimacy is flowing through you, but you’re not sure if he is feeling the same way about it. He’s probably just eager to try something new tonight rather than the usual. 

Your shorts are off faster than you’d normally take them off and you’re kind of chuckling about his blatant desperation until he hovers over you and positions himself where he wants to be. 

Now…now he’s intimidating. With both knees on the couch, your legs bent at the knees and resting on his hips. That doesn’t even matter to you right now, because you haven’t seen his face this close before. You haven’t felt his hips against your legs before, outside of when you flop down on each other during a tired morning to wake the other up. You’ve never felt your stomach flip like this over him.

And when his eyes leave that spot between your legs to meet your own with his same dopey smile, it’s like you melt into a puddle instantly and you’re wanting so much more than just this. You hold back though, finally pulling your eyes from his and looking between his legs.

You knew his cock was big but you’ve also never seen it this close to your body. It’s like, big big. Thick too, and never did you notice just how huge it is because his hands are equally huge, and wrap around it perfectly. To him, it’s a perfectly accurate cock for a man so tall and broad, but damn. 

It’s a bit embarrassing that all it took was for him to hover over you with his cock out to have you forgetting that you asked for him to talk through it. You’re in danger. Extreme danger with him like this and eager to talk this time. It starts so fast, so casually, and you’re still spinning internally just to grasp what you’re feeling right now. 

“Good?” 

That all he fucking says to start, settling into his position fully and grasping himself. Honestly, his cock is only a few inches above your core and you can feel the heat from it.

You nod, curling in on yourself a bit and he takes note of it because you’re never fucking shy. 

“Too much?” He asks, watching you shake your head in response. “God, thank fuck. Because you look so good right now.”

Spinning. 

“You can let go of me now though, I can see how wet you are already.” He continues, chuckling at the way your arms grip his shoulders.

You didn’t even fucking notice that you instantly started clinging to him. Especially with the fact that you didn’t expect him to talk to you like this. The two of you haven’t even started yet and he’s already got you on the verge of insanity. 

You’re quick to pull your arms back and lift your shirt up over your chest before slowly trailing your hand down. 

“Match my pace, okay? It’ll feel better.” He instructs, blatantly making a point so it does look and feel like he’s actually fucking you, all movements matching, sounds matching, lust matching.

You nod again, silently, eyes now focusing on his cock because if you look at his face right now you might just buckle and start crying over how insanely hot he is. 

He lets out a short chuckle at your silence, he’s used to that and didn’t take issue with it at all until you asked him to talk. He hopes you talk back at some point, but for now he leaves it alone as he starts stroking.

Precum is leaking already just from seeing you beneath him like this, bra covering your chest, panties covering your pussy– but it’s enough to get him going. He would feel selfish to ask for more unless you offer it first. He’s got you where he’s always wanted you since this whole thing started. 

You watch his hands, slipping your fingers under your panties and sliding them through your folds at the same pace, shivering only slightly at the feeling at you watch him. 

This pace works for a few minutes, but you note his grip grows tighter on himself and you hear his breath stutter in a sigh when he does it. You wonder what that feels like for him, and you wonder what he’s thinking about as he does it. You move your fingers to your clit at that point, pressing in and releasing your own sigh of relief.

He watches you, eyes shooting to your face and studying the way you close your eyes to really feel it. 

“Look at you,” he coos, trying to talk like you asked him to. “feels better when I’m here, right?”

You half open your eyes with a crooked smile, because of course it feels better when he’s with you. Even if he’s not touching you, even if he’s not the one doing it. 

“So pretty when you do this, you know–” He continues, praising you and falling into the words easier than he expected. “I think I fell in love with watching you from the second you spread your legs for me.”

You can’t. You can’t look at him when he’s talking to you, it’s a lot. It does something, it does a lot of something to you, so you focus on his cock and the way he starts pressing his hips into the circle his fingers create rather than pumping himself. He’s slow with it, lazily moving his hips back, forward, then back again. 

At that moment, you slide your fingers down and tease at your entrance, dipping a finger in easily and releasing a sigh. You can’t imagine this one finger will mimic what he could do to you, but you settle. 

“That’s it,” he says as he watches, hanging his head and knowing exactly what you’re doing with your fingers. “Can I see?”

You don’t respond and instead use your other hand to hook your panties to the side, revealing your finger sliding into you at the pace he’s sliding into his palm. 

The sigh he lets out begins to form into a moan at the end as he watches, wetting his lips and furrowing his brows. He keeps his hips steady despite obsessing over the fact that you’re fucking yourself at the same pace for illusion’s sake. 

“Put in another.” He instructs, watching you do just that and release another sigh. He’s becoming frustrated with the situation though, knowing for a fact that he could do better for you. Knowing that if you’d just suggest it, he would instantly be giving in. “Is that even enough for you?”

Your eyes shoot open and go straight to his face, which is staring down intently at the way your fingers fuck you open. 

“Not always.” You admit, shooting your gaze back down to his cock and the way his grip tightens around it. “Is that enough for you?” You follow up, pointing to his hand with your head.

“Not always…” he mimics you, and then it’s silent as the two of you accept the fact that this has to be enough right now.

And it stays like that for a while. To the point that his hips are relentlessly fucking into his palm, causing his knuckles to bump your clit every few seconds, and you’ve buried in a third finger trying your best to pretend it’s him. 

It’s both too much and not enough. Too much in the fact that he’s all over you, and too little in the fact that he’s right there and not in you. Your fingers aren’t enough when his cock is right there, his words aren’t enough when he’s not muffling that voice with your lips, and you can’t imagine he’s not feeling frustrated with the situation. All of the puzzle pieces are in front of you and neither of you are putting in the effort other than organizing them. You’re not snapping them together, you’re just on the fucking edge of the situation you want. 

Does he want it? Is it too much to ask? Is it–Oh. 

“Can I–” he starts, cutting himself off with a sharp breath because of the way you clearly are trying to reach deeper inside of yourself in pace with his long thrusts. 

“Yes.” You don’t even know what he’s asking, and to be fair you don’t think you give a shit. Whatever he wants to do, please, just do it. 

And he does without a second thought, releasing his grip and pulling at your wrist to slip your fingers out of yourself. Then, he presses his cock directly between your holds, holding it down as he picks up the pace again and thrusts up.

It’s not what you were expecting, but then again you should have known he wasn’t asking to fuck you. This is good though, feeling his cock sliding between your lips, head bumping your clit. The warmth, the heaviness, the way his length is so thick that all you can do is try to not feel empty while it’s sliding through your arousal.

He’s more focused now than he was before, nearly letting out a sob rather than a moan at the feeling of your pussy against the underside of his cock. It's like he’s getting everything he needs and nothing at the same time, but the image of your eyes staring down at it too was enough for him to know you like it too. You like it enough. 

When you let out a moan, trailing your hands up to your chest and releasing your tits from the bra, he only grinds faster against you, pressing down harder on his cock to create a tight space between your pussy and his palm. He stares at your tits, and then at your lips, and then back down at the way your pussy lips spread around his cock as he slides through them. 

Another hidden sob pretending to be a moan, and then he’s leaning closer to your face. 

“If I kiss you, would you be mad?”

You instantly strain your neck to connect your lips with his, and he falls into it all too easily. You can feel him speed up his thrusts, and you can feel his desperate tongue. It takes you a moment to realize this is your first kiss, and it’s while his cock is getting off against you. 

Its more than you could have asked for, honestly, but you’re going to ask for more because as you kiss him, well, all you can think of is how this looks outside of your position. It definitely looks like he’s fucking you. The image that you can’t even see in full is arousing you beyond belief as you kiss him, and when he pulls back for a breath, you take that short moment to spill your thoughts.

“Just a little.” You groan blankly, squeezing your breast in your hand and using your other hand to push his cock away from you. “Just–”

He stops, out of breath, trying and failing to comprehend what you’re trying to say. 

“Just what?” He groans, grabbing his cock and pumping it much like he normally would. 

“A little, just put it in a little bit.”

His face is on fire as his hand halts on his leaking cock. Did he hear you wrong? He’s watching your hands squeeze against your chest, he sees your eyes avoiding him, he can still taste your lips on his, and your pussy is just below his cock, pulsing around nothing. Is he reading you wrong?

“Just a little bit…” he repeats what you ask for, looking down at you and placing a hand on your thigh, spreading his fingers out wide. “You’re asking me to fuck you, just a little bit?”

God, the words. So few words but also so many words.

“Yes.”

He leans down inches from your face and you can feel his cock fall back to your folds at the moment, you shiver unintentionally.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to do that and then you end up regretting it.”

He told himself time and time again during these sessions with you that he would instantly jump for the opportunity to fuck you, but now that he’s faced with it– he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself aside from asking for confirmation as many times as he can until he believes you really want it. 

“Just,” You still avoid his eyes and the way they’re staring through you. “Please.”

He nods in an unsure way at first before pulling back and holding his length in his hand again. 

“Just a little bit, right?” He tries to confirm, and you nod.

With a deep breath, pounding heart, and spinning thoughts, he aligns himself with you and doesn’t know how to comprehend the feeling of slipping into you. So he simply…doesn’t.

You can feel the intense stretch instantly, the feeling you’ve been searching for making you shiver and nearly writhe beneath him. Just an inch, it’s all you need, he doesn’t have to do any more than that. You don’t need more, you have self-control, right?

“Oh, fuck,” he groans as your pussy envelops the head of his cock. He can feel the pulsing inside of you massage against it, he can feel the wetness, the fucking warmth. “Fuck, fuck.” 

It’s all he can say, honestly, speechless at your silence of the act. The way your mouth falls open in a silent moan only urges him to give you short, single inch thrusts despite the wetness you offer making it difficult to not accidentally slide further in.

“So thick,” You whine out in a broken and desperate voice. 

It causes him to have to take in a deep breath and hold it. Good lord, he’s fighting so many demons right now not to plunge into you and take whatever he can get. 

“A little more,” you urge him, wiggling your hips and sucking him in against his own movements. He doesn’t mind it, nor does he mind the embarrassing sound he lets out at the feeling. 

Now, he can thrust another inch in, stretching you open a little more, shocked that the three fingers you used before didn’t seem to come close to preparing you for this. He can feel how tight your walls are around him, and again, the demons. 

He lets out another embarrassing sound when he looks down, seeing only a quarter of his cock inside of you. He, once again, holds himself back from pushing in more. He could go so deep, but he can’t. 

“Little more?” He asks meekly, reaching a hand out to your cheek in the hope that you’d let him. He won’t ask again. Just, if he can get half of his cock in you, it would be plenty. It would be enough, he would be satisfied. 

“Or,” you groan at the adjustment around him, knowing full well that by asking him to put the tip in that you’d want so much more. It’s fun thinking you can control yourself, but it’s more fun losing that control with another person. You’re both controlling the need to fuck and be fucked solely because you don’t know if the other wants it. But god, he’s already inside of you, isn’t it fucking obvious?! 

“You could just fuck me.”

Say no more, with those words it’s like his hips act of their own will and he’s slowly sliding into you in full. Relishing in the way your pussy spread out to make room, cooing over the feeling of himself going deeper, deeper, and fucking deeper into you. 

“Finally.” He breathes out in relief when he bottoms out, leaning forward yet again to lay his lips against your forehead. “Felt like I’ve waited so long.”

You’re silent as you adjust to what you can consider the biggest cock you’ve ever taken. The searing pain isn’t much compared to the arousal of his admittance of wanting this only after getting inside of you. 

All you can offer him is a moan when you try to respond with your own witty sex talk, but he sends him spiraling somehow further than he already had gone. His hips stuttering in their planted spot as he lets you adjust, moaning in response to your moan. His lips kissing all over your face now, feeling in this moment that you’re his, and this feeling is shared, and that only your pussy could massage him this way simply because he’s inside of you. It’s overwhelming, all of the feelings hitting at once.

From physical feelings to emotional ones, it comes with such a harsh hit to him that all he can do is flutter those kisses to as much skin his lips can reach. Feeling your eyelashes on his cheek when he kisses the corner of your mouth, to feeling that corner of your mouth open in a yelp when he finally starts to move his hips back. Sliding out of you only a little bit before pressing back in again, deep and lazy.

“Good?” He asks, much like he did before. “So good.” He answers for both of you immediately after, keeping that lazy pace as he leans on his elbows on either side of your head. 

“Wrap your legs around me?” He follows up, already so comfortable speaking through your silence that it feels natural, especially when you do just as he asks.

In wrapping your legs around him, he’s able to adjust his body from the position he’s been stuck in this whole time. Now, he can be on his knees with you curled under him, clinging to him like a koala as he uses the back of the couch to support his balance. 

There, he’s able to pick up pace, there he’s able to see what you look like when you’re being fucked. There, he can see what you look like when he’s the one doing it. And he might be spiraling, but he feels more sane than he ever has in this moment, watching your lips and feeling you squeeze around him.

It’s no wonder he felt no interest in finding someone else. He was more satisfied jerking on in front of you than he had ever been actually inside of another person. Now though, it’s insane to think he was satisfied because he’s changed his mind. Why would he find someone else when you act like this? 

Why would he put himself through the possibility of you going out and doing the same thing with someone else? 

For you, there are no thoughts, just Seokmin. You’d laugh right now if it weren’t for the fact that each thrust forces a desperate and wet sound out of your throat. You’d laugh harder if it weren’t for the fact that you don’t even need to rub your clit to get yourself there.

He easily hits that soft spot inside of you, time and time again as his lips travel over repeated areas until landing on your mouth.

You kiss him harder than before, now trying to move your hips despite the difficulty of being under him. You try to meet him halfway now that he’s sliding nearly his entire cock out before slamming back into you. Emptying you and filling you up time and time again as if to remind you of the few moments before when you felt him for the first time. 

Repeatedly you think you’re about to come, and repeatedly you hold off until he whispers.

“I know that face, you’re holding back.”

It’s so fucking surreal knowing that he knows this without ever actually fucking you before now. He knows what you look like when you come, he knows how you like to be touched after watching you so many times. He knows where you sleep, knows what your favorite foods are, and showers in the same bathroom as you. 

You let go, thinking of only him and this moment you’re sharing. You don’t worry if it’ll ever happen again, because you know it will if he lets it. You’re not in control of this anymore, nor of yourself. 

“Pretty, like always.” He compliments when you make that familiar face of release, pumping into you faster now just to feel the gush of wet he’s seen leave your body time and time again. “Prettier now, though.” He corrects himself, feeling just what he was expecting as your body releases the tension all at once. 

The wet sounds somehow become wetter as he thrusts, still fluttering those kisses across your face to the point that you’re either numbed to it or tingling because of it. And only after he knows you’re finished does he pull out, fucking against his hand so aggressively that you’re more aware now than before that he always lets you finish first if not at the same time.

Except now, if he were to finish at the same time, he’d be filling you up so that there’s no question about the worry that comes after it. Despite knowing you’re on birth control, despite knowing you’re both clean because neither of you have fucked another person in half a year–

You watch with drowsy eyes as he releases strings of thick, white seed against both your pussy and stomach. Your panties, ruined and forgotten as they strain at the crease of your thigh. You whimper at the sight, so in love with the way it feels hitting you for some reason. So endeared with the way he pulled out despite knowing in his head that it would have been fine if he stayed. 

When he flops down over you, ignoring the mess between your bodies, you’ve never felt so close to him. You don’t think you ever want to feel further from him, actually. 

It’s the start of something else now, you’re not sure what, but it’s a given.

~

The start of something new came in the form of his room turning into a guest room for a new roommate. 

That roommate has yet to be found, but it’s an excuse to sleep next to him every night. No titles have been claimed but they’re definitely been given. Just a day after that happened, you caught him slipping and calling you his girlfriend. He figured that since you didn’t correct him, it must be true.

Yeah, it must be. 

[absolutebl]

Top 10 Best BLs on Gagaoolala

My Beautiful Man AKA Utsukushii Kare

Japan 2021

One of the most Japanese BLs to release in the last decade, as weird and as messed up as any 2000s yaoi: emo af and hella warped, entirely true to itself with no attempt made to modify its POV for modern sensibilities or current BL fandom. It used seriously old school problematic and kinky tropes, like whipping boy, for a truly uncompromising piece that also manages to hit up themes of communication, consent, and self acceptance. It’s a wonderful BL but uniquely dirty and harsh, in the best possible way - Japanese cinema, uncompromising.

I lost my ever loving mind over the ending. This show won the Grand Prix “My Best TV Award” at the 16th Galaxy Awards.

Minato's Laundromat AKA Minato Shouji Coin Laundry

Japan 2022

A classic age gap romance where a high school student pursues the man of his dreams (who runs a laundromat). This BL is so steeped in yaoi nostalgia, not to mention a classic romance arc, that it will overload some, but those of us who love this genre for its DNA will adore it. It made me very happy because it did everything I want a BL to do - there’s not much more I could ask of a show than this. It’s the closest Japan has come to perfect live action yaoi since Seven Days (and I never make that comparison lightly).

Squee watch-along here.

My Ride

Thai 2022

Thai BL grew up with this pulp (the first ever to make my end of year top 10). It’s a truly lovely and special little show featuring the extremely rare pairing of sunshine/sunshine (AKA a cinnamon roll couple) plus mature explorations of relationships using one of the softest, sweetest, and most innocent friends to lovers vehicles. Kindly, overworked doctor meets broken-hearted motorcycle taxi driver in an “other side of the tracks” slow burn romance. The support cast is excellent, making for great friendship groups and family dynamics. With honest queer rep that adds to, but doesn’t impede, the story, and genuine conversation about the nature of class, wealth, and classism, not to mention communication, honesty, and respect for boundaries, you can’t go wrong with this show. In other news, I am a sucker for a single dimple.

Takara & Amagi AKA Takara-kun to Amagi-kun

Japan 2022 I gnawed on my knuckles and squealed a lot with this BL. Reserved cool kid who must learn to communicate to keep the tiny disaster nugget he’s madly in love with. It is beyond charming: soft and gentle, packed with cuteness and high school angst, thirst, & yearning. Was there plot? Not really. Was it emotionally tense and paced well enough for me not to notice? Absolutely. Did I enjoy the hell out of it? Oh yes.

Kiseki: Dear to Me

Taiwan 2023

The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged, but that’s normal for Taiwan. It involves all the tropes under a very casual framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. Absolutely every character is queer. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs, and a KILLER side couple. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan.

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho

Japan 2023

This style of live action yaoi really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat than we usually get from Japan's HEA stuff, and that part is also very well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's great, but watching requires more patience than usual, even for Japan.

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku

Japan 2023

A lonely salaryman and talented cook gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. I was always gonna love this show if they stuck to the manga (which is very dear to my heart). And they did, paralleling it almost exactly. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me as the best of what Japan can do with softness (like Restart After Come Back Home). It’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, but that's OK with me. This is a very safe show for anyone to watch.

Step By Step

Thai 2023

This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This office romance between a stern boss and sweet subordinate felt more authentic to cubical work than previous Thai BLs of this ilk. That authenticity added tension to the narrative and its characters development (how novel). I also really enjoyed the charming side characters and the brothers' relationship to each other (although I could have done without that brother's side BL).

Long Time No See

Korea (Strongberry) 2017

Catfishing assassins on either side of a turf war who fall in love not knowing they are on opposite sides. Or do they? Suspenseful plot, good fight sequences, mature characters, hot sexitimes and even hotter beating the shit out of each other and kissing while covered in blog (this came from KOREA?), plus an HEA. One of the hidden gems of the BL genre.

About Youth

Taiwan 2022

A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and an earnest depth. I didn’t even mind the singing, and that’s saying a lot. A weak seme/uke dynamic but tons of BL tropes (both rare in a high school setting but common for Taiwan) makes this one feel both sweet and colored by real world authenticity and grit.

Some of these shows ALSO appeared on Viki or iQIYI, but these BLs will appear only once on these round up posts (here for Gaga), not on the other platforms top 10.

(source)

This list updated Spring 2024, not responsible for cool stuff that aired on Gaga (or was taken off the platform) after that date.

This is part of a series more here:

[belokhvostikova]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Crying, pregnancy, and brief mentions of body insecurity.

Eddie had told them.

So concisely, and specifically told them all that was forbidden in order to keep his friends from the scrutinizing tears of an anguished pregnant woman, that would have to be followed by a now frustrated father-to-be.

But like clockwork, his word of advice plummeted the second Jonathan Byers decided to speak. In retrospect, he wasn’t at all to blame, in fact, he was attempting to be supportive. And he would have done a great job had his nice words not been targeted to an overly sensitive thirty-four weeks expecting lady.

“Don’t worry,” he’d smiled so kindly, a testament to the Byers politeness that ran through the family, “I’m sure you’ll have a safe and easy delivery. Nothing to stress over.”

But the baby you were carrying was formulated by Munson genes, and the way it head-butted your pancreas, while simultaneously kicking your bladder made it hard to enjoy Jonathan’s sentiment.

“Ugh.” You could only scoff. “What do you know, you’re not pushing a baby out of your vagina.” Doing the one thing he told you not to do: stress.

The panic on Jonathan’s face was quite humorous, at least to Steve Harrington it was. Eddie, on the other hand, was shooting a disappointed glare to his friend. Because he told him. So concisely, and specifically told him.

1. Don’t say anything that’ll upset her.

2. Don’t try to say anything too mushy or nice to make it up for the first mistake, she’ll cry and feel awful about yelling.

3. Honestly, you shouldn’t even really speak to her.

4. But don’t ignore her! She’ll find a way to circle it back to you thinking she looks like a beached whale.

Rule number four had came about after Dustin Henderson tried to maneuver around the monstrosity that was Eddie Munson’s rules. In his own little weird way, he was trying to be helpful after your cries about being big. And Dustin thought it would be a bright idea to say “I happen to like whales.” It did not go over well.

And now, Jonathan Byers was falling into the same cycle.

“No, no!” It was damage control time. “I’m just wishing you and the baby to be okay, I swear. I just want you to be happy and comfortable.”

Bad move. How did he forget rule number two already?

Your face contorted into a deep frown, as your eyes watered, and that panicked look on Jonathan’s face never ceased.

“Oh, god.” Eddie whispered, as the waterworks crashed out.

“That’s so sweet of you!” You bawled. “I was so mean to you, and you were just being niceee!” Your head dropped to Jonathan’s shoulder, wetting his flannel with salty tears that seemed endless. Eddie would thump his friend’s forehead if he had the chance, but instead, he had to do damage control, and his tender hand rubbed your back.

“It’s alright, baby.” He cooed. “It’s totally okay, just let it all out.”

He fervently gestured to Jonathan to add on. This was his mistake, anyways. “There… there.” He awkwardly patted your back. “Yeah, it’s totally okay.”

Steve Harrington was beginning to rethink the whole six little nuggets thing.

Luckily, Jonathan’s words were enough, and you sniffled your way away from his now dampened shoulder.

“I-I’m sorry for crying so much.” Your hurt little face was enough to elicit some aw’s and it’s okay’s from the three men, who jumped to console you.

But then Steve spoke. Unwarrantedly.

“Hey, I’d cry, too, if I had to rip a seven pounder from my body.” He chuckled.

Your face dropped with horror. “Eddie!”

Eddie Munson was going to kill Steve Harrington.