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morganski-19 · 9 days

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The One with the Trifle Pt 2

part 1 here

A little while later, Robin and Eddie return, bringing the trifle with them. Argyle, thoroughly stoned, walks over to it, leaning down to stare at it eye level.

“Looks great, dude. What is it?”

“English trifle. I found this old cookbook in a thrift shop and thought it looked good. And there was no oven involved, so nothing is burnt this year,” Robin points the last question at Steve, glaring at him.

Steve presses his lips together, trying not to say anything bad. “Yep, nothing looks burnt.”

“Just wait until you taste it,” she excitedly goes on. “I tried everything separately and it was so good, so I’m excited to see what it tastes like all together.”

“What’re the layers?” Argyle asks, still staring at the dessert.

“Lady fingers, then jam, custard, that I made from scratch, raspberries, more ladyfingers, then beef sauteed with peas and onions. More custard, a layer of bananas, and then some whipped cream. Weird right?”

Nancy chokes on her drink. “Weird. What’s weird about it?”

“The beef. Everything else is so sweet it just seems out of place. But then I was like, there’s a mince meat pie. And pies are sweet, so this is just normal for them I guess.”

Eddie claps his hands, getting everyone attention. Totally not nervous about all of this. “Yeah, so normal. Is the rest of the food ready? I am starved.”

They all sit down at the table and have their dinner. The rest of the food is very good, no complaints there. They play cards and talk in between dinner and dessert, after everyone helps clean up of course. Eddie might convince Argyle to give him a joint, just to prepare a little bit. Also, he hates Thanksgiving, so it helps.

“Remind me again why you hate Thanksgiving,” Nancy asks after crushing them all in a round of poker.

“My dad liked to think that you couldn’t get arrested on holidays, which isn’t true. When I was nine, he stole a car, immediately got caught, then got arrested. Happened again when I was twelve. And then I think again when I was fifteen, but I was living with Wayne at that point. Every year, people get together to be thankful, while I get reminded of my dick of a father. Who is probably in jail again for doing something stupid.”

Jonathan winces. “That sucks, man.”

Eddie shuffles the cards. “Yeah. But my uncle’s great though. More of a father to me than my own father was. Would have invited him if he didn’t already have plans.”

They play a few more rounds, Eddie able to sneak in win when Nancy gets dealt a bad hand. Jonathan even wins once, even though he’s a bit confused at what game they’re really playing.

Then it’s time, and Robin starts to plate the trifle. Taking a big spoonful of all the layers and handing them to everyone. Finally sitting down with her own piece, with a huge smile. Steve takes a deep breath in preparation. Nancy gives Steve one last dead glare. One that says both “this is your fault” and “if you mess this up, I will kill you”.

Jonathan pokes around the plate with his fork, inspecting it. Argyle looks actually excited to eat this and Eddie is just twirling the fork around in his hand waiting for someone else to eat it first.

“Steve, I want you to take the first bite,” Robin says, ever so sweetly. With just a touch of malice in her voice. “Since you always doubt my cooking so much.”

Steve nods, pained. “Right. Yeah, of course.” He takes a forkful of the trifle, skirting around the beef.

“You missed a whole layer there. I want to make sure you eat all of it.” Robin smirks at him. Steve can’t tell if it’s because she’s hiding something or because she’s made about his earlier comments. Mind too filled with the anxiety over eating this.

Steve stares at the dessert before his eyes, taking a deep breath before giving Robin a pained smile. Then eating the trifle, trying his hardest not to gag. “It’s great, Rob,” he says, trying to swallow. “So good.”

“Alright, now the rest of you.”

Nancy takes a breath before just shoving a forkful in her mouth. Looking like she barely chews before swallowing it. Jonathan eats it like anything else, looking partially confused, but taking a moment to register what all the flavors are. Argyle just keeps eating it.

Eddie doesn’t eat it at all.

“Steve’s right, probably the best thing you’ve made,” Nancy acts better than Steve did. “You should send me the recipe.”

“Yeah, dude,” Argyle says, plate now half empty. “This is really good.”

Robin bursts out laughing, causing the rest of the table to look at her. “I can’t believe you actually ate it. Oh my God.”

“What?” Steve says, half choking on the water he was drinking.

“I didn’t actually think that beef belonged in the trifle. Do you all really think I’m that dumb?”

Jonathan looks up from his plate, eyes squinted. “What’s going on?”

Argyle leans over. “Not sure but Robin’s laughing a lot.”

Robin stands up, taking her plate and throwing her piece in the trash. “Hold on a second.”

Eddie stands after she leaves, taking his own plate and throwing out his untouched piece of the trifle. “I need you all to know, that I had no idea about this before today. And if it weren’t for Nancy making fun of the way I slice green beans-.”

“Because no one slices green beans that way,” Nancy exclaims.

“I do,” Eddie says dramatically. “Wayne has done it for me that way since I was a kid and wasn’t the biggest fan of green beans. If you want them cut a certain way, you should tell people.”

Nancy pauses. “That is a good point. I’m sorry for getting mad at you.”

“Thank you.” Eddie sees Jonathan and Argyle still eating the not real trifle. “Oh guys, you don’t have to eat that. It was a prank.”

“What?” Jonathan asks, still not sure what’s going on.

Argyle leans over again. “This was a prank, we don’t have to eat this anymore.”

“But it’s dessert.”

“Yeah, but not the real dessert.”

Jonathan is not putting the pieces together. “Where’s the real dessert then?”

“Don’t know, man. It isn’t here yet.”

Nancy stands, taking the two plates in front of them. “I’m just going to move these.”

“Jesus, dude, how much did you smoke?” Steve asks, finally throwing his food away.

Robin comes back into the apartment with another trifle in her hands, this one beef free. She places it in the center of the table, smiling maniacally. “This is the real trifle.”

The real trifle looks exactly like a picture of one would. Layers of lady fingers, jam, custard, and fruit. All perfectly even, with not a speck of beef in sight.

“That,” Nancy starts, still in shock, “looks really good.”

“I know, right.” Robin sits back down in her seat. “And it really wasn’t that hard either. The only thing that I had to make myself was the custard, which was actually pretty easy.”

“I knew that’s not how cookbooks worked,” Steve says annoyed, glaring at Eddie.

Eddie shrugs, “It was part of the bit.”

Argyle stares at the new trifle. “I think you’re missing a layer there, dude.”

“No, she added an extra layer before,” Eddie explains. “This one is the correct one.”

“If you say so.” Argyle leans back into the chair, still skeptical.

The real trifle is dished out and eaten pretty fast. Everyone apologizing to Robin for doubting her. She sits with a smug look on her face for the rest of the night.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

#morgan's friends au #friends au #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #pre relationship #steddie #ronance #jargyle #recreational drug use #recreational marijuana

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morganski-19 · 10 days

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The One with the Trifle Pt 1

Pretend it’s Thanksgiving please and thank you. Flashback to Eddie’s first Thanksgiving after moving to the city. (If you’re a friends fan or know this episode, this will only be about the trifle bit and not the secret revealing section at the end of the episode. That will be coming at another time.)

Robin is standing in the kitchen with a large glass container in front of her. She’s carefully reading the instructions of a cookbook, pulling out ingredients as she goes. Steve comes out of the bathroom and walks over to the kitchen.

“Are you sure you got the dessert this year? We both know what happened last Christmas,” he asks, again. For the third time.

Robin rolls her eyes. “That was a fluke. I think I really got it this time. And, nothing is going in the oven, just stove top.”

“You say that like it makes it better. I’ve seen you burn water before.”

“No, that was dry pasta that I forgot to add the right amount of water to, so it dried up and then burned. But that was years ago. Now I know how to use the stovetop.”

Steve sighs. “If you need anything, I mean anything, I’ll be right across the hall helping Nancy with the rest of the food. No question is too stupid to ask me.”

“We both know that is a lie.”

“What are you making anyway?” Steve leans over the counter to see the cookbook.

Robin picks it up to show him. “It’s a trifle, from this old British cookbook I found at the thrift store. Cute, right.”

“Yeah, if you don’t fuck it up.”

Robin smacks him with the book. “Out, out. Go help Nancy and stop making fun of me.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop making fun of you, but whatever.” Steve walks across the hall to Nancy’s apartment. She’s in the kitchen basting the turkey while Eddie, Argyle, and Jonathan are sitting on the couch watching the parade.

“Steve, thank God. I needed someone who,” she turns her head to the living room, “actually knows what they’re doing.” She stares at the back of Eddie’s head.

Eddie makes a large gesture. “I didn’t know it was possible to fuck up cutting green beans.”

“It is when you cut them like this.” Nancy holds up a green bean sliced down the middle lengthways.

Steve winces. “How the hell did you think this is how you cut green beans.”

Eddie stands up. “That’s it. I’m going to hang out with Robin, at least she won’t make fun of me.”

“You sure about that,” Argyle snorts.

“She is just as bad as cooking as Eddie apparently is, it’s honestly fifty-fifty with how this goes.” Steve starts to peel the bowl of potatoes.

Eddie gives them the finger before shutting the door.

“Speaking of,” Jonathan turns to face the kitchen, “Do we have a backup dessert for when Robin eventually ends up burning hers?”

Nancy gives Steve a death glare. “Do you want to explain or should I?”

Steve sighs. “I had parent teacher conferences yesterday and didn’t have time to bake anything.”

“Because.”

Another sigh. “Because I went on a date with this girl I’ve been talking to for a few weeks.”

Argyle stiffens, having gotten close to Eddie in the past few months. Knowing how he feels about Steve. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

Steve shrugs. “It’s not that serious to be honest. We’ve only been on the one date.”

“And now we will end up eating whatever Robin ends up burning because someone couldn’t push it off until next week.” Nancy angrily jabs at the bread she is cutting.

“Woah, Nance, take a deep breath. Your parents aren’t coming this year, it’s just us. There’s nothing to stress about.” Steve stops peeling the potatoes to try and rub her shoulder, only to get his hand swatted away.

“Yeah,” Argyle agrees. “I’ve eaten plenty of Robin’s burnt cookies, and I’m still here. Some of them were pretty good actually.”

Steve gets a text from Robin.

Robin: Quick questions, how do I tell if the butter is browned

Robin sends an image

Steve: About five minutes before it looks like that

Robin: Shit

A while later, Steve is watching the stove while Nancy takes a break on the couch. Eddie opens the door, barely poking his head through before calling Steve into the hall. He calls Nancy back into the kitchen before heading out into the hall with Eddie.

“So,” Eddie draws out as Steve closes the door. “We have a bit of a problem.”

“Oh God, what did she do?”

“There’s beef involved.”

Steve’s eyes bug out. “What? Beef? How, I thought she was making a trifle.”

“She mostly is,” Eddie says. “Just this cookbook is the weirdest one ever where the recipes are mixed in with each other instead of in their own sections. And it’s an old book, and some of the pages were stuck together. So, turn the page to get to the rest of the recipe, and it’s a recipe for shepherd’s pie.”

Steve makes a horrified face. “Nancy is going to kill me. Like straight up murder. I will be dead tomorrow.”

“Why? Robin’s the one making the dessert. Shouldn’t she be the dead one.”

“That’s the thing. I always have a backup dessert. It’s a little game we play each year. Robin wants to try to bake again but leaves it in a little too long and it gets burnt. Or accidently adds salt instead of sugar. Or thinks she knows better than the recipe and adds too much flour. So, then I come in with another dessert for the people who don’t like to eat burnt cake. She isn’t the best at cooking, or baking, but she tries, and it brings her so much joy, so we let her do it and eat the dessert. But then mine is like the palate cleanser. Except this year there isn’t a palate cleanser and we’re going to eat a trifle with beef in it.” Steve takes in a deep breath, trying not to hyperventilate.

Eddie nods, trying to process everything. “That’s kind of sweet that you guys eat messed up baked goods just to make her happy.”

“Yeah well, it’s Robin. No one really likes to make her upset. Which she will be if we let her know that this is a major fuck up.”

“So we’re going to eat the beef dessert thing. There’s fruit and custard involved.” Eddie makes a disgusted face.

Steve gags at the thought. “Yeah, yep, yes. We are. I’m going to do damage control, you keep her happy. And if the pages become unstuck before the beef gets added, no one will be mad at you for interfering.”

“It’s already been done. There is no stopping it.”

“Alright then. I’m going to go get murdered, it’s been nice knowing you.”

Eddie nods before going back into Robin’s apartment. Steve takes a deep breath before walking back into the apartment.

“What did Eddie want?” Nancy asks.

“Nothing that important, Jon can I talk to you for a second.” Steve rushes past Nancy and pulls Jonathan into Eddie’s room. “We have a problem.”

Jonathan adjusts his shirt. “One that you had to physically pull me into a bedroom for.”

“Yes. Robin mixed up two recipes and now there’s beef in an English Trifle.” Steve makes a face like he’s bracing for impact.

Jonathan stands there silent for a few seconds, blinking. “It was nice knowing you.” He pats Steve on the shoulder.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I am already very aware of the fact that I am dead, but we do in fact have to eat the beef trifle.”

“No we don’t,” Jonathan says with disbelief.

“It’s Robin,” Steve shrugs. “We have to.”

Jonathan nods, pained. “We do. Remind me to get super high before dessert comes out, it will help it all go down. Hell, I might like it.”

“You mind telling Argyle about this, I have to go tell Nancy.”

“I’ll go guard the knives. Good luck.”

Steve and Jonathan leave the room. Jonathan going over to Argyle and whispering something in his ear, Argyle seeming indifferent to the news. Steve takes a deep breath before asking Nancy to talk in her room.

“What happened?” Nancy cuts to the chase, crossing her arms.

“Robin. Lovely, sweet, kind, sometimes confused when it comes to baking, Robin. May have mixed up two recipes when making the dessert.”

Nancy takes the first part well. “That doesn’t seem too bad. They were both desserts, right?”

“That’s the thing. Apparently, this book has the recipes mixed up and not in sections. So when the pages were stuck together, one page was an English trifle, and the other was a Shapard’s pie.”

“What,” Nancy yells. “How can those to be mixed up?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t there. I was here helping you with the rest of the food.” Steve takes a step back.

Nancy follows after her, slapping him on the arm. “I can’t believe this. Robin is going to be crushed when we won’t eat it. Then she’ll be mortified when she realizes her mistake.”

Steve makes a pained face.

“Steve, we’re not going to eat this are we?” Nancy’s death glare sets in again.

“It’s Robin, of course we have to.”

Nancy starts hitting him again mixed in with anger about his mess up. When she calms down, she says, “I am doing this, not for you, but for Robin. Because I cannot even begin to think about how she’s going to react when she figures this all out.”

Nancy leaves the room without saying another word. Steve goes back to the living room and flops on the couch, being dramatic about the nonexistent bruises that Nancy gave him. She did not hit him as hard as she could have, or wanted to.

“Get up you big baby and get your ass back into the kitchen,” Nancy says from the kitchen.

Steve turns his head towards Jonathan and Argyle. “You know, sometimes I wonder why we broke up in college. And then I am reminded why.” He stands and goes to the kitchen.

part 2 coming tomorrow

#morgan's friends au #friends au #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #strager things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle stranger things #pre relationship #steddie #ronance #jargyle

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morganski-19 · 11 days

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At some point in your friends au can we get The One with the Trifle I don’t know who would be who but I still think it would be funny

I have finally figured out who is who, and this is the longest post I have written for these. Therefore, it will be in two parts. Part one is being posted tomorrow and part two on Thursday.

Let me set the scene.

Robin is not that great in the kitchen, but means well, so she is the one who mixes up the two recipes and makes the trifle.

Steve, who normally makes a backup dessert in case Robin's experiment fails, couldn't because he was out on a date.

Eddie witnessed Robin mixing up the two recipes and warned Steve about it.

Nancy is super stressed out about the meal anyway, and is mad at Steve for making a situation where Robin is going to be upset.

Jonathan and Argyle are getting high to hopefully be able to stomach eating the beef trifle.

#morgan's friends au #modern au #stranger things #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #pre relationships #steddie #ronance #jargyle

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morganski-19 · 13 days

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With All My Love

ao3 link if you don't want to read this on here.

One

It started with silence. Husk was never one to speak unless he had something to say. But when Angel came home from one of his many shifts, he always had something to poke at. Something to push and pry. Get a rise out of Angel and make him admit that he needed someone to talk to. That something was wrong.

Truthfully, something was wrong. It was always wrong when he came home from a shift, tired and bruised. Makeup a little heavier than when he left, depending on how the day went.

Today was too different. And then the day bled into night, and Angel felt the pull on his bones to go to a club. To drown himself in alcohol and coke, or something stronger, just to feel the haze start to erase his mind. Find some guy who wanted to fuck him, because most of them did anyway, just so that the last person who touched him wasn’t Valentino.

Maybe then, he would be able to sleep a bit better.

But instead, he went home. His new home where he was trying to be better, trying to change. To be a person that looked in the mirror and didn’t hate what he saw. He went home with a fresh bruise around his eye, already starting to purple, and his limbs so exhausted they might just fall off the bone. But he was still ready for the accusations of the man standing behind the bar.

Except they never came.

Instead, his drink was already poured and placed at his seat at the bar. The condensation just beginning to form on the glass, waiting for him. And he didn’t even have to ask.

Angel sits down, taking a sip. The faint taste of alcohol rests on his tongue before he swallows. He’s tempted to ask for something stronger. Something to wipe his mind off the day he just had. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he looks at Husk and feels everything start to fade away. The man just cleaning glasses, putting them away softly. Waiting for Angel to say the first word between them. Waiting for Angel to choose to speak.

Giving Angel a chance to breathe.

“Not going to say anything, Whiskers?” Angel teases, trying to get under the other’s skin. Still unsure of what is slowly blooming between them.

When Husk turns his face and looks at Angel for the first time since he left this morning, Angel’s breath can’t help but stutter. And his heart stopped like he almost died again.

“What do you want me to say?” Husk replies in his low, uncaring voice. Even though Angel was starting to see right through it.

Angel huffed. “Well, normally you have somethin’ to say whenever I get home.”

“Well,” Husk leans on the bar, “sometimes ‘normally’ changes. And you looked like you didn’t want to talk, so I didn't say anything. But if you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

Angel’s mouth is suddenly dry.

The dynamic between the two of them shifted some time ago, and Angel couldn't pinpoint it. Maybe it was a few months ago when Angel went out and Husk was the one who came looking. Maybe it was the time Cherri brought them out and Angel said no to the pills. Or maybe it was right before the battle when all Angel wanted to do was sit and talk to Husk. And the look that he knew painted his face as soon as Husk looked away.

The same face he felt the want to make now.

But now, he was tired. He felt used. His body was calling for sleep, and Angel knew he needed to go to bed. To his cold, empty bed.

Swallowing the rest of his drink, he stands. Takes a moment to bring the rest of his strength to his legs enough so he can walk up the stairs.

“Thanks for the drink, Husk,” Angel says with a slight yawn. Too tired to talk with his persona, so he just talks. “Night.”

“Have a good night,” Husk says while Angel walks away. Each word pulling him back to his bar seat. Where he could talk to Husk for hours, or just sit there in the other’s safe company.

As he walks towards the stairs, Angel feels the familiar tingle underneath his skin that lets him know he’s being watched. Only this time, he doesn’t mind it. Doesn’t feel pressured to put on a show.

Instead, he turns back and looks, catching Husk’s eyes for just a second before the other man turns away. A smile finds its way to Angel’s face and stays there until he finally falls asleep.

Two

“But I don’t want to marry the boring old duke,” the dead roach in Nifty’s hand says in the high-pitched voice it’s been designated. “He’s too boring.”

“Well that’s too bad,” the other roach with a much deeper voice grumbles. “You have to for the family.”

The roach puppet shows are always something new. Angel was a bit disturbed by it all at first, but when the TV breaks down as much as it does, there’s only so much entertainment. And if he was being honest, Nifty scared him, but he would never admit that.

But it made her happy, and kept him out of the stabbing line, so he watched. Laughed even. Enjoyed himself with people he grew to care about. Was able to let loose for a while.

Husk even joined in for this show on the couch instead of behind the bar. He was grumbling about being forced to care about this shit, but everyone knew it was just a facade.

Deep down, old Husker was a big softie. And Angel liked him for it. Liked the way he got to tease him about it.

Just for a second, Angel shifts his head under the ruse of fixing his hair, looking at Husk to his left. Just sitting with his arms crossed and a smirk resting on his face. At peace. Calm.

It was moments like these that Angel enjoyed the most. Where they could pretend that their lives were normal and the fate of their existence wasn’t constantly up in the air. Where the chain wrapped around Angel’s neck was looser, and Husk’s was too as long as Alastor didn’t need them.

They could be free for a moment. A brief fleeting moment, but it still felt amazing.

Angel ends up staring a bit too long, and Husk turns to catch Angel’s eye before he quickly turns away. Feeling a faint flush bloom in his cheeks, as if he was embarrassed.

Angel Dust doesn’t get embarrassed, not like this. He’s brash and flirtatious. Made every sex joke in the book, and every sex act in the book. Was the first to talk and fast to spit back the next line. He was great at improvising shit. But he didn’t want to improvise this.

Husk shifts beside him. Moving his arms so that one rests on the arm of the couch, holding his head, while the other rests in between his and Angel’s legs. Lightly brushing against Angel’s lower hand, lying open facing upwards.

It’s so soft that Angel would normally brush it off, but can’t. The first brush is an accident, the second is a coincidence, the third is purposeful. Especially with the gentle press against Angel’s finger. Like Husk is telling him that his hand is resting between them for a reason.

Angel looks down, watches as the finger stays still. It did what it needed to do, got Angel’s attention. After that, it was all up to Angel for what happened. Husk wasn’t going to push, not with this.

Gently, Angel slides his hand into Husk’s. Letting their fingers lock into place. With his lower hand, as the upper two are crossed over his chest. He may not be afraid of the spotlight, but sometimes things are best kept a secret. Silent.

Most of the things Husk does are quiet. Silent judging from behind the bar, simple smiles or smirks. He wasn’t one for big shows of affection, or anything really. On the outside, Husk was a man who cared about nothing other than booze and the cards in his hand. But on the inside, Husk cared more than he liked to admit.

And he cared about Angel.

So much so that he didn’t pull his hand away when Angel interlocked their fingers. Instead, he just gave it a squeeze, gently rubbing his thumb against Angel’s. Silent, simple, and sincere.

Nifty’s maniacal laughter brings Angel’s attention back to the roach show he was supposed to be paying attention to.

“And then, because she was forced to marry the very boring duke, she stabbed him in the chest while he was sleeping,” Nifty yells, no longer pretending to play with the roaches and fully just stabbing the duke with a sharp needle.

“Fucking Christ,” Angel mumbles. “That got dark.”

Husk chuckles. “Yeah well, it’s Nifty, what did you expect?”

“I’m not sure.”

Three

“And then I said, ‘If you like him so much, go ask him out on a date,’ and he got so mad his entire screen of a face glitches. Like he actually glitched out like a fuckin’ broken TV,” Angel laughs.

Husk lets out a low chuckle, cleaning up Angel’s latest empty glass. “Overlord’s and their shitty tempers.”

“Literally. And then Val gets all pissy just because I offended his boyfriend. It was worth it though just to see the sick fuck go off on a tirade. The shoot ended early cause Val needed to do damage control or some shit.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re bugging me this early in the day. Normally I get a few hours of peace before you defile the bar with your presence.”

Angel props his head up with his hands. “Aww Husky, and here I thought you were starting to like me.”

“And what if I was,” Husk asks, looking Angel up and down.

Blood rushes to Angel’s cheeks. He’s used to being hit on. Used to being the object of desire. But just that, an object. Angel Dust was who the people wanted. The persona, the whore. All things that Angel usually prided himself on. He did like sex after all.

But this was different. When people hit on him, they wanted something. He knew that, they knew that. It was all just a ruse to get him into bed and sleep with the famous porn star. Didn’t matter if Angel was left broken afterward, or if he was too drugged or high to remember who it was. It was purely physical. That’s all Angel was used to.

This wasn’t physical. Whenever Husk gave it back after one of Angel’s lines, it was real. Husk didn’t bullshit. He gave it straight, not caring what others thought of him. Always said his opinion, not caring if anyone asked to hear it. It wasn’t easy to get on his good side. Until it was.

Until Husk looked at him with those eyes after saying a line that was geared to make Angel pounce. But instead, it just melts everything inside of him to a useless fucking puddle on the ground. Leaving him vulnerable and defenseless. But he didn’t care, because Husk made Angel feel something again. Something real instead of just pure pain.

Part of him was terrified. It’s been so long since he felt like this, and the last time he did left him fucking broken in more ways than he could count. He should be cautious, should run away. Lock himself in the deep confines of his mind and let Angel Dust take over again. Ruin all of his progress just to get high and forget all over again.

But the other part of him wants to reach out. Grab the thing that it’s always wanted, but never got to have. Finally find a way to break free of the chains and live the life that he wanted to. That he chose. Angel was born into a certain life that he couldn’t get out of, and was bound by a contract in his afterlife.

Maybe just this once, Angel would get to choose something that would end up making him happy.

“Well,” Angel says. “That would just mean there’s a big softie behind all that fluff.”

Husk huffs, rolling his eyes, mixing a drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you say so.” Angel watched Husk pour the drink into a glass. “That looks like a fruity drink ya got there. Not normally your style.”

“No, it’s not,” Husk laughs. “That’s because it’s not for me.” He places the drink in front of Angel, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and pours a drink for himself.

Angel stares at the drink in front of him. “I-. How did you know this is what I wanted? I didn’t ask for it.”

“You went to work so you wanted something strong to begin with to cool down but the day wasn’t terrible and you’re in a good mood right now, so you want to switch to something more flavorful on the tongue,” Husk rattles off as if it’s nothing. “Am I right?”

Angel feels as if he can’t move. Heart pounding in his ears with something that feels like panic. Like his shell was ripped away and he’s left defenseless and raw. Open for anyone to see what hides inside.

And Husk is just waiting for a response as if this wasn’t a whole psychoanalyzed therapist situation. Like he didn’t just read Angel perfectly in a way no one has before. Or in a way that he ever wanted.

The walls threaten to rebuild, the mask already halfway down his face. He has to remind himself that this was Husk. Husk was safe. He wouldn’t play with Angel’s mind, with his emotions. He wasn’t a psychopath freak. He cares.

Husk knowing Angel wasn’t a bad thing, so Angel shouldn’t make it a bad thing.

“Yeah,” Angel whispers, mouth dry. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He takes a sip of the drink, almost tipping it higher to throw it back in one gulp. Get on with it so he can stop feeling so vulnerable. So known. But when the sweet taste of the drink hits his tongue, with the slight tinge of the strong alcohol that can’t quite get covered up, it doesn’t betray him. If anything, it’s better than the hundreds of drinks he’s had like this before. Because someone knew him enough to know exactly what he wanted before he could say it, and it was right.

It wasn’t an assumption that was harmful or wrong. Wasn’t one that put pressure on Angel to say yes to. It was a simple drink with nothing attached. Nothing hidden inside. Nothing in the space between the lines.

Angel takes another sip, reveling in the taste of it. In the experience. Husk continues the conversation, saying something that makes Angel laugh. Really laugh. The kind that makes eyes water and lungs heave.

And for the first time, Angel doesn’t feel afraid of being known. Not if he’s being known like this.

Four

Angel wakes up to Fat Nuggets rubbing gently against his face. A small beam of light came through his open blinds illuminating his room. Soft sheets tangled around his limbs as sleep calls to him again.

Gently shooing away Fat Nuggets, Angel rolls over, Untangling the sheets and pulling them up to his chin. Glancing at the clock on his bedside table before closing his eyes again. Only for the time to register as his eyes fly open.

“Fuck, it’s ten,” he whispers to himself, one of his hands running through his hair. Charlie never lets him sleep this late, not on days when there are seminars and lessons. Picking up his phone, he checks the shared calendar for the hotel. There was definitely supposed to be an activity this morning.

Charlie’s never late. And never misses his absence. If he didn’t wake up himself, she wasn’t far behind to burst into his room along with the harsh light from the hallway. Why was he allowed to sleep this late? Undisturbed?

Not that he’s complaining, really. For the first time in a while, he actually feels refreshed. Looks like it too, without any help from his makeup bag. And if no one has come to get him yet, he might as well make the best of it.

Getting up from his bed, he notices a piece of paper that was slipped under his door. Picking it up, he reads the note.

Convinced Charlie to give the hotel a day off and let you sleep. Take a bath or some shit.

-Husk

Angels smiles to himself, laughing a little. Places the note on his dresser before walking to the bathroom. Bringing a set of comfortable clothes with him.

He washes his face, does his hair. Everything he normally does but slower, more carefree. He has time in the morning for once. He savors it. Gets dressed in a sweatshirt and soft shorts. Puts on less makeup than normal. Relaxes. Because he can.

He spies the note on his dresser again. Picking it up and reading it again. Angel hasn’t felt like this in a long time. Like his heart was lighter in his chest. Like everything felt lighter. Even the corners of his lips rise without him telling them to. A stupid smile forms, he knows. But he lets it stay. Real things deserve to stay.

Walking over to his mirror, he takes a piece of tape and sticks the note to the side among the other pictures. He doesn’t really know why. Just that it needed to be there. And if it happened to be underneath a picture that Angel forced Husk to take with him, that was his business.

When he does go downstairs, there is laughter coming from the living room. Charlie and Vaggie sit on the couch watching a movie. Nifty is running around chasing bugs. Alastor is fuck knows where but that’s not important.

What is important is Husk standing behind the bar like he always is. Cleaning some glasses that are probably already clean just to bide time. He didn’t have to work today, Charlie gave them a day off. Which should include Husk. But there he is waiting behind the bar for Angel. Like he always is.

Husk sees him approaching and smiles at him, even if Angel knows he tried not to. “Thought I wasn’t going to see you till noon,” Husk comments as Angel takes a seat.

“Thought about it, but then I wouldn’t be here talking with you.” Angel rests his head on his hand. “Thank you.”

Husk looks down at the bar, a little sheepish. There might even be a blush behind all that fur. “What for?”

Angel laughs. “If you wanted to stay anonymous, you shouldn’t have left a note.”

“That would be a dead ringer,” Husk snorts. “There’s still some breakfast left if you’re hungry.”

“Only if you come eat some with me. I don’t like to eat alone,” Angel flirts. It wasn’t exactly untrue, he does prefer to eat with other people around. Just doesn’t most of the time. “You said Charlie gave the hotel a day off, that should include you, Whiskers.” He reaches across the bar to poke Husk’s nose.

Husk swats his hand away. “Not exactly how that works. I work here.”

“So,” Angel questions, determined to give him some time off too.

“Just how it is,” Husk shrugs, going back to cleaning glasses.

“For fuck’s sake,” Angel turns, looking toward the living room. “Hey Charlie,” he calls out, “Can Husk have the day off too?”

“Absolutely,” Charlie beams. “We all have the day off today, including the lovely staff.”

“See,” Angel gloats, turning back to Husk. “So unless you really don’t want to have breakfast with me, you are out of excuses, Husky.”

Husk sighs, finishing the glass he was polishing and placing it back on the shelf. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he starts to leave the bar. “Aren’t you coming?”

Angel can’t help the smile that forms on his face. “You can say this is my payback, for this morning.” He walks with Husk to the kitchen.

“Don’t have to pay me back, it was nothing.”

“Oh my fucking god, can’t let me say thank you, can you? You did somethin’ nice for me let me thank you for it.”

Husk smirks. “No.”

Five

Angel isn’t quite sure how he’s still standing. He can’t feel his legs, having become numb halfway through his shift and stayed that way since then. His arms fall limp at his sides, barely able to reach the door handle when he gets to the hotel.

This is a new for him. He is never this sore. Never this tired. Never this used. Today was excruciating, to say the least. Val was pissed about something and took it out on him. Like normal. Like always. But this time was worse. It just keeps getting worse.

There was a time when Angel liked his job. Liked the attention it gave him. The money. The fame. But now all of that is a sick reminder of the permanency of ink-stained paper. And a name that is no longer his.

Now, he comes home bone tired and ready to crash for a millennium. But harsh reality comes in each morning in the form of a wake-up call and breakfast that he can barely stomach. He wants to just sleep. Hoping that when he wakes up he’s able to wash what happened to him away in the shower. Knowing that it’s all just going to happen again. And again. Forever.

Last week’s surprise was a blessing. Getting more than five hours of sleep, feeling refreshed. He hoped the same miracle would come tomorrow. With another note under his door that makes him feel like everything doesn’t suck. That tells him that someone does actually care about him.

Somehow that was possible. Somehow Husk could look at all the ways Angel was fucked up and still decide that he deserved another glance. Angel knows he doesn’t deserve it. There was so much better out there than him. With everything that was broken, not able to be fixed. He was damaged goods and knew what that meant.

The door doesn’t even shut before Angel falls into it, slamming it closed. His legs shake as he tries to stay standing, trying to push himself off the door. Eyes spying the stairs that taunt him. Will take everything out of him. Just one flight between him and his bed. Where the satin sheets can cover up the marks that will be bruises, and the tears can fall where no one sees.

All he has to do is climb the stairs.

He takes a trembling step forward, coming into the light of the hotel. A few more steps and his knees buckle. He starts to fall. But gray flashes before his eyes and suddenly he isn’t falling anymore. Warm arms wrap around his torso, holding him upright.

“Come on,” Husk mumbles, throwing Angel’s right arms over his shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Angel has a line waiting at the tip of his tongue, but doesn’t have the energy to say it. Or to protest the idea of being helped. When he’s fully upright again, he leans all he can on Husk, feeling the slight relief of less weight on his feet.

The stairs prove as difficult as Angel thought they would be, but he doesn’t fall. Husk doesn’t let him. He almost picks Angel up entirely in order to get them both up the stairs. Angel almost lets him.

When they reach Angel’s room, Husk opens the door and carefully walks them through the doorway. Fat Nuggets runs up to them, rubbing at Angel’s leg when he senses that something’s wrong.

Husk leads Angel to the bed, pulling back the sheets before helping Angel lay down. There’s part of Angel’s mind that has a blaring siren. A warning that things are going to turn bad as soon as the door closes. But this is Husk. He hasn’t hurt Angel yet, he wouldn’t start now.

“You need help getting changed?” Husk asks gently, placing a glass of water on Angel’s bedside table.

Angel tries to ignore what that means when other people say it. Just focusing on what it means when Husk does. “Just, just help me get the jacket off. And the boots.”

The room is still dark, so Husk can’t see what lies underneath. The marks, the faint bruises still left on his skin. Part of the job, for most of them. But some of them, they’re damning. But even if the light was on, Angel had a feeling that Husk wouldn’t say anything about them right now. He’d ask later, let Angel decide if he wanted to share or not. He can tell that tonight has already been enough.

Husk helps him sit up, undoing the buttons on the front of his jacket. Gently sliding the fabric off his arms, leaving him bare. Taking off his boots next, leaving him in his socks. Angel points him to the drawer in his dresser that holds the soft shirts he likes to sleep in.

There’s something intimate about this moment. Being taken care of without any pretenses or conditions. By someone who cares more deeply than they’d like to admit. Even being here in this moment is something that wouldn’t have happened a few months ago. The walls each of them built over time started to lower together. And it led to this.

As the fabric gets pulled over his head, and onto his upper pair of arms, Angel feels safe. Safe with another person seeing him like this. Without a camera in sight, or payment in the end. That all stops the second his eyes meet Husks. When he starts to feel love for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever.

It hits Angel like a truck when Husk helps him lay down in his bed. Angel loves him. He didn’t even know if that was possible anymore. After the last time he fell in love went to shit, he swore it off all together. Determined that anyone that would ever spare him a second glance would want one thing and then fuck out of his life forever.

But here Angel is completely defenseless, and Husk doesn’t make him feel like he is. It might be common decency, and his bar for romance might be six feet under, but that face makes his heart pound faster than it ever has. With a singular word, Husk would stop what he’s doing and leave. Angel doesn’t want him to, though. He very much does not want him to.

The sheets are draped over Angel’s shoulders, covering him in warmth. Sleep calls to him, his eyes almost closing when his head finally hits the pillow. He needs to say something before he can sleep.

“Wait,” Angel says, reaching out to grab Husk’s arm when he turns to leave. “Stay, please.”

Angel doesn’t like to be alone on nights like this. Before he moved to the hotel, Cherri would sneak in through the window and stay with him. Lay next to him when he cried after the high wore off and the hurt set in. Now was different, he was sober, for what it was worth. It only made the hurt worse, though.

The only reason why he isn’t crying right now is because he’s too tired for the tears to form. For the anger to bubble and the rage to set in. To want to find a way to go over to Val’s stupid fucking studio and rip the wings off his chest and put a million bullets through his head. He can’t, but he wants to.

But he still wants another person here when he falls asleep. Extra protection. For his body and his mind. If that person was specifically Husk, it shouldn’t matter that much. Yet it did. He was in love for Christ’s sake. Even if it wasn’t reciprocated, he wanted to pretend like it was. To feel safe with someone for just another moment. To go to sleep thinking that hell might be heaven enough for them.

Husk doesn’t say another word, but walks around the bed. Angel rolls over with a wince and holds the covers up for him, letting him know that it was ok. The bed dips when Husk lays down, keeping a small distance between them. Angel wants it gone, but that could be a later issue.

Right now, his eyes finally shut as he finally falls asleep.

+One

Warmth radiates beside Angel when he starts to wake up. Comforting warmth. Such a drastic difference from the cold sheets that greet him each morning. Enough to pull him back to sleep. Comfortable sleep.

Angel moves closer to the warmth. He falls back asleep.

When he wakes up again, his eyes blink open fully this time. Confused at the textured feeling under his hand. Running his fingers through what feels like fur, the events of last night come back to the forefront of his mind. His eyes finally meet Husk’s sleeping face.

It’s so peaceful. So quiet. Other than the heavy breaths and gentle snores. A smile finds Angel’s face as he takes it all in. He feels so safe it’s crazy. And so many other things that he can barely name. Mushy, mostly.

He takes his hand and brings it up to Husk’s face, brushing past his cheek and gently scratching at the side of his neck. Husk makes a sound, scaring Angel into thinking that he woke up. But he just lays his head back down and his heavy breaths resume. This time with a slight purr.

It’s stupid how much this makes Angel feel. How soft he feels. Finally knowing what all of those love songs were talking about. He thought them stupid back when he was alive, even more so when he was dead. It was all fake, too good to be true. But good and true were synonymous now. There’s no mistaking it anymore.

Peaceful, is all Angel can think. He didn’t know love was supposed to be this peaceful. It never seemed like it was. With the screaming matches his parents would have, and the way people treated him. Love never seemed this way.

He’s sure that there will be moments where it won’t feel peaceful. Where he’ll mess up and cause an argument, defenses raised. Knowing how he can be when he’s upset. When he feels broken and unfixable. Husk’s already seen some of it, back when Angel didn’t care about him like this. Husk ever held him against it. Letting that moment be in the past. Even in the moment, Husk didn’t make Angel feel lesser, only equal.

“I love you,” Angel whispers in the dark. Not even realizing that the words slipped out of his mouth. Needing to say the words somewhere other than his head in order to make them feel real.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it. Or if Husk even feels the same. There’s something between them, he can feel it. But this. This is so much more than attraction. So much more than a drunken night or tangled sheets. Angel wants more than the physical this time. Without even knowing what the physical is. They’ve never even kissed, let alone anything else.

Yet, he feels so sure about this. So fucking sure it scares him.

“I love you, too,” Husk whispers back, his eyes opening slightly.

Angel pulls back his hand in shock, fear filling his head. “What?”

Husk’s wings stretch out in a flutter as he lets out a yawn. “I said I love you.”

“I thought you were asleep,” Angel says in disbelief, not registering what Husk had said.

Husk laughs. “I wasn’t really, could still hear you.”

Angel rolls onto his back, burying his face in all four of his hands. “Fucking hell, this is so embarrassing.”

“Why is it embarrassing?” Husk props himself up on his arm.

“Because I only said what I said because I thought you were asleep. Now you’re awake and probably thinking I’m this fucking idiot and whatever friendship we had is now fucking ruined because I opened my stupid fucking mouth. Cause you don’t feel the same. How could you when I’m such a broken fucking mess? I just-. Just don’t hate me, please. I can’t lose you just because I was stupid.”

Angel doesn’t look at Husk until he starts laughing. Full on laughing, dropping down onto the bed and rubbing his hands down his face. A flush finds Angel’s face, and embarrassment fills him as he turns his head away. Making him want to curl up and make himself smaller.

Bearing his soul to another person wasn’t easy, but it was easier when it was Husk. Now he’s shared one of the most vulnerable things anyone can, and Husk is laughing at him.

“I get I was an idiot, but you don’t have to laugh at me like that, asshole.” Angel sits up, pulling his legs close to his chest and resting his chin on his knee.

“No,” Husk gets out between laughs. “No, no, that’s not why I’m laughing. Did you hear what I said at all?”

He knew Husk said something, but didn’t pay attention. Too riddled with shock and embarrassment for anything to register. “No,” he admits, sheepish.

Husk sits up and Angel can feel his gaze. “Angel, could you look at me for a second?”

Angel turns his head, not sure what he’s expecting. But Husk’s face is so soft, so gentle. Looking at Angel with admiration instead of disgust. Like Angel’s something special instead of a piece of broken glass left on the ground. Without trying, his heart starts to beat a little faster and there’s the tight pull of nerves at his stomach. He doesn’t feel like he ruined anything anymore.

“I said that I love you. All of you. Everything that you think is broken and everything that I know isn’t,” Husk says like he means it. Like this isn’t just some big joke.

“You love me?” Angel whispers, waiting for the other shoe to drop and the curtain to come crashing down. No one can say those words and truly mean them. No one has. Even if his heart is telling him that this is true, his brain convinces him that it’s fake.

Husk shifts closer to Angel, gently pulling Angel’s hands away from his legs. Breaking down his defenses. The touch so gentle, so nondemanding. He’s not asking for anything other than Angel to understand. To tell the voice in his head whispering it’s a trap to shut up. There’s no pressure behind the movements. No expectations.

“I love you,” Husk states, like it’s some fact in a history book. Taking his hands and cupping Angel’s face, brushing a stray strand of hair up out of the way. “And I’ll say it as many times as it takes you to believe it.”

Angel forgot what it felt like to have something like this. Where the sparks are so bright they’re almost visible. Tension so thick not even the sharpest blade could cut through it. Both people in it just as much as the other. With nothing else behind the words they said. Just pure truth.

A soft smile forms on Angel’s face. And if a small line of tears formed in his eyes, no one mentioned it. “I love you, too.”

Husk for the first time in what feels like forever, is left speechless. Mouth opening and closing, like he’s trying to say something but nothing comes. Instead, the softest smile forms on his face. Like Angel just did something that was worth the world to Husk.

He doesn’t understand it. With the way Husk was, it was easy to love him. No one ever wanted to see past the persona enough to actually care about Angel. That’s all Husk wanted to do. Everything else paired with that, it was easy to fall. Angel on the other hand, he’s harder to deal with. Loving him is harder.

It doesn’t feel like it anymore. Not with the way Husk holds him like he doesn’t believe it’s real. Expression is rich with disbelief. Maybe he too was scared that this was never going to happen. That someone could never love him for the way he is.

Being honest with himself, Angel knows that Husk isn’t perfect. The same ways that he isn’t perfect either. They both have their vices. Their reasons why they’re here. But despite all of that, they found each other. Someone who can understand better than anyone else in the hotel. Maybe even in Hell.

Angel takes his hand and cups Husk’s face. Revels in the way Husk presses into the touch. Using the others, he pulls Husk closer, letting their foreheads meet. Letting this moment be this moment and not pushing for anything else. Even if he wanted to, they had time.

Husk takes a deep breath, still a part of him not believing this is real. Angel’s feeling the same. Pulling back, Husk looks at Angel studying his face. Eyes drifting down to his lips before jumping back to his eyes. Angel does the same, nodding slowly.

When their lips meet, it’s nothing that Angel’s ever experienced before. He’s kissed a lot of people, but never like this. Never where his love was truly reciprocated. Where there’s no pushing in the motion, using it as a key to something else. The other person wanting only this and nothing else.

It’s refreshing. All of this is.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk #husk hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angel x husk #hazbin husk #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel fic #5+1 things #5 + 1 fic #angst #getting together

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morganski-19 · 15 days

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Thanks for the tag @goodolefashionedloverboi

Currently watching: 911, this so is seriously so good

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: they all have their moments, but out of the three spice is my least favorite. I switch back and forth between sweet and savory depending on my mood

Relationship status: single, very much so

Current obsession: watching people freak out over the 911 episodes I have not gotten to yet, it’s getting me excited for things I hope are going to happen

Last thing I googled: Whether or not Noah Kahan’s song Someone Like You was a cover or not cause I did not know that he wrote it. I am just now realizing the version I had heard before was the cover, interesting

Some no pressure tags: @beverlysclown and that’s all I can think of at this moment. So if you see this, considered yourself tagged

I have been tagged smh smh— looking at you @systembug

Currently watching: eerrrmmm— sweats in man who can’t start series last I was trying to watch was my rewatch of cells at work (I Lurv Lurv Lurv it so much 🥰🥰🥰) and was trying to start the ace attorney anime (also lurv a lot) & I think rewatch one punch man or maybe assassination classroom—

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: probably sweet and savory depending on the mood, not the hugest spicy fan but I will sometimes enjoy it also :3

Relationship status: currently single and not really looking to mingle 👍 traditional relationships don’t tend to be my bag for many reasons (aro/Ace spec moment B>) but I do love having some homies to vibe with o7

Current obsession: warhammer— oh god warhammer- ya guys don’t understand man— I have so many ocs I haven’t posted it’s so bad- / pos I just Lurv it so so so much 🥺🥺 would kill for warhammer- chewing on my space marine figures so so so so so much arghhh (also yeah in the span of like 3 weeks I bought 5 action figures for warhammer bc I am in fact obsessed) the irls and non-warhammer mutuals fear when its name is mentioned /J

Last thing I googled: Military nicknames

For some ideas for some guardsmen ocs ^w^

Hehehe @m0rbidm1nk @thrill-zilla-0v0 @krynnmeridia @wolf-tail @v01d-v0r4c10us an invite for you guys :)!! If y’all wanna ofc ofc

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morganski-19 · 15 days

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part 1

The next day, there’s someone new to visit Steve. Making Wayne stop in his tracks on his third coffee run. The rumors were true, the Chief isn’t as dead as he was a year ago. Just lost what looks to be half his body weight and all of his hair. Looking gaunt and malnourished.

But he’s alive. That has to count for something.

Wayne wishes the Chief was there to see him. Give him the key to unlock the chain around Eddie’s wrist. So he’d be able to wake up to a clean slate. That his record will be clear and he won’t get carted off to jail as soon as he’s stable. So Wayne will be able to bring him home.

Once he has a home to go to. Not just a shitty hotel room that costs more than it should for a night. But it’s right next to the hospital, so Wayne can be here in five minutes if something happens. When his boy wakes up. He has to wake up.

It’s been five days since Eddie was brought in. Twelve since Wayne saw him last. All he wants is to hear his obnoxiously loud music blaring down the hall while he’s trying to sleep. Or the laughter that could make him smile even when he didn’t want to. Wayne wants his Eddie back, the boy he watched grow all of these years. He’s not ready for the day Eddie wakes up and the light is gone from his eyes.

Because it will be. Wayne’s seen enough people come back from combat a completely different person. With the scars that are sewn into Eddie’s torso, up his neck, one on his cheek. There’s no doubt that he’s been through something unimaginable. Life changing.

As much as Wayne wants Eddie to wake up. He’s not ready for him to wake up changed.

There’s a knock on the hospital door before it opens. Wayne’s expecting a nurse to check Eddie’s vitals, tell him the same shit they have for days. That all is good and he’s progressing. It should be any day now that he wakes up. If the damage to his body wasn’t too much for him. Those words of hope lack their meaning now.

But instead of a nurse walking through the door, it’s the Chief.

“Can I sit?” He motions to the chair next to Wayne.

“I suppose.”

The Chief sits next to Wayne, not looking at him. “I hear he’s been in a coma for a few days now.”

Wayne nods, not much in the mood for talking. Civilly at least. Push the right button and the volcano is about to burst.

“I’ve known a few people who’ve been in medically induced ones like this. They all wake up in the end.”

“I’d like for the cuffs to be off his wrist when he does,” Wayne snaps. Knowing that the Chief has the key to unlock them. “That way he can recover as an innocent man. Like he should.”

The Chief takes a deep breath. “I’m not fully reinstated yet. I don’t have the authority to do anything about that. Even if-”

“Even if what?” Wayne looks at the Chief. Anger filled his voice. “Even if he’s innocent. I know he’s innocent. My boy, my boy could barely hurt a fly, let alone a living, breathing person. He was kinder than people gave him credit for. This town gave him so much shit that he didn’t deserve. Still is. When I’m afraid he might never wake up the same again. So I’d like the cuffs off, so he knows that some part of this town sees him as something other than a villain.”

Finally looking Wayne in the eyes, the Chief takes a second to think. Nodding his head in thought. “You smoke?”

Wayne scoffs. “That really what you're thinking of right now?”

“Answer the question.” Something about the Chief makes Wayne believe there’s more to his words.

“I do.”

“Great,” he stands, waiting for Wayne at the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

Wayne gets up, mainly because he doesn’t really have a choice but also because he wants to see where this is going. They pass Harrington in the hall, talking to someone on the phone.

“Yeah, I’m free tomorrow. Can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. No don’t do that. Cause I don’t think it’s time to throw a party yet, not while.” He makes brief eye contact with Wayne as they walk by. Before turning away. “Just won’t feel right without all of us.”

Wayne has no clue who he’s talking about, but it’s probably not Eddie. Hopes it isn’t. He still doesn’t know how he feels about this kid, even if he knows Eddie’s innocent. Doesn’t forgive him from his past, if rumors are true. And knowing who his dad is, Wayne wouldn’t be surprised if they all were true.

The Chief leads him to the side of the hospital, where there’s no foot traffic. No one around to hear. Wayne suddenly understands what this might all be about. Something not for wandering ears.

“What I say does not leave this conversation,” he starts, handing Wayne a cigarette. Lighting his own before passing the lighter to Wayne. “Got it?”

Wayne nods.

“I know Eddie’s innocent. But there’s some weird shit that was happening around then that I cannot tell you about it. All you need to know is that the Feds are involved, and they’re looking for a fall guy. And I’m trying my hardest to make sure that the fall guy isn’t your nephew. So while it might not seem like it, some progress is being made. Your nephew will be a free man when he wakes up. I give you my word on that.”

“I don’t even know how to start processing what you just said.” Wayne takes a long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke blow out into the alleyway.

The Chief laughs. “That was all of us the first time this happened. I’d say it gets easier but it really doesn’t.”

“The first time?”

“There’s a lot more to this town than meets the eye.”

“How do I know your word is any good?”

The Chief considers this for a moment. “You don’t really. But who else do you know who can fix this?”

With that, the Chief nods goodbye and heads to the parking lot. Leaving Wayne with more questions than answers, and a little flame of hope he’s wishing won’t get put out.

I don't know how many parts this will be but I do know they will be posted sporadically whenever I have time to write them. So, no promises of consistency.

also, tag list. I tagged anyone who asked/seemed interested in a part two. please let me know if you would like to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar

#stranger things #wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #jim hopper #pre steddie #post season 4 #hospital

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morganski-19 · 16 days

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Krobus is enjoying the new waterfalls...

#LOOK AT HIM #HE’S SO ADORABLE #i love krobus i’m sorry #he’s my favorite shadow that lives in the sewers #stardew valley krobus #krobus #sdv krobus #stardew krobus

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morganski-19 · 18 days

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The One with the Banishment

This is a continuation of the previous post, because the tags from @puppy-steve inspired me to continue it.

A few hours later, Robin is awoken from her own nap with a knock on the door. Steve asleep on the couch, head flopped on his shoulder. Snoring. She unwraps herself from her blanket, heading for the door.

“Oh god,” she says when it opens to Eddie wrapped in a blanket, pale as a ghost.

“Nancy said you have soup,” he whispers, voice hoarse.

Robin groans, knowing that Nancy had more cans of soup. Or could just make something. There’s an ulterior motive here.

“Get in here.” Robin steps out of the way to let him through.

Eddie waddles through the door to the living room. Looking confused when he gets there.

“Sit next to Steve.” Robin nudges Steve.

Steve jolts awake, sucking in so much air is sends him into a coughing fit. Robin makes a disgusted face as it continues into a sniffling mess. He turns to grab some tissues but sees Eddie next to him. Making the most delirious confused face ever. “I’m not hallucinating him here, right?”

Eddie laughs, which also sends him into a coughing fit. “In your dream, Harrington,” he gets out between coughs.

Robin stares at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “I’m going to kill her. I swear, I’ll do it.”

“Who are we killing,” Steve slurs out after making way too much noise blowing his nose.

“Nancy.”

He pulls the blanket back up to his chin with a shiver. “Why, Nancy’s so nice.”

“Not that nice,” Eddie rasps. “She sent me over here just so she doesn’t have to deal with me.”

Steve makes a half angry face, eyes fighting to stay awake. “That’s not nice.”

Eddie tries to make a dramatic gesture, but his arms fall when they get halfway through the air. “I know.”

“What a bitch,” Steve concludes, looking like he’s going to fall asleep again.

“Right now, I’d have to agree.” Robin nudges Steve awake again. “Don’t fall asleep, you need more cold medicine. And to eat something.”

Steve rolls his eyes but sits up straighter anyway.

“Eddie, when’s the last time you had cold medicine?”

Eddie shrugs under his blanket, somehow shivering.

Robin nods, annoyed. “Great. Please hold.” She walks across the hall and bangs on the door. Nancy opens it with a sorry smile.

“Hey, Robbie. Soup not good? Need more tea?”

“You sacked Eddie with me so you don’t get sick, didn’t you.” She crosses her arms.

Nancy looks guilty. “Sort of. If you don’t mind.”

“Like he’ll have enough energy to make it to the bathroom let along across the hall again. And if he’s fine bunking with Steve, I don’t really have a problem with it. I just need all the cold medicine you have since I’m playing nurse.”

“That’s fair.” Nancy heads to the bathroom and comes back with a few things of cold medicine and a bag of cough drops. “Here’s all I have. I gave Eddie this about four hours ago, so he should get more soon.”

Robin takes it. “Thank you. I expect a few more cans of soup and another box of tea in my apartment by dinner tonight.”

“Don’t you think that’s pushing it a little bit?”

Robin glares at Nancy. “I’m already regretting leaving them unsupervised for this long.”

Nancy winces. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll go get some for you.”

“Thank you.”

When Robin gets back to her apartment, Steve and Eddie are having some kind of conversation. Or it at least seems like one. They’re grunting one after another, if that’s what it is. Honestly, they sound a bit like birds.

She silently closes the door behind her and places the medicine on the counter. Takes out her phone to take a video of them, evidence for later. Also, because Argyle would love to see this.

And he does, sends a message back saying that they sound like penguins. It makes Robin burst out laughing, Steve and Eddie trying to look back to see what’s wrong. She waves them off, starting to warm up the soup on the stove while trying to stop laughing.

“Yay, drugs,” Eddie whispers when Robin hands him more cold medicine. Making Steve go into a cough-laughing fit again. Robin should get paid for this shit.

She brings them the soup when it’s done. In their fancy bowls with handles on the side so they can drink it better. It’s interesting to watch them eat, but the steam clears up their noses enough so they can breathe.

Nancy knocks on the door later that afternoon, a bag full of soup and tea standing outside the door when Robin gets it.

Robin: You could have waited for me to answer the door

Nancy: Not going to risk it

Robin: Jesus Christ

Steve and Eddie had fallen asleep on top of each other. Each halfway leaning towards the middle of the couch, the only thing holding them up being each other. Robin takes a few pictures, debating to wake them up for more medicine.

But she doesn’t have to this time. A few minutes later, Eddie is pushing off the blanket and accidently hits Steve in the face. Making him hit Eddie in the head with his own when his reflexes kick in. They both wake up with a groan.

Robin laughs again. “You two are the most helpless idiots I will ever know.”

“You’re mean.” Eddie sits up, rubbing the spot where Steve’s head hit him. Steve sits up too, holding the cheek that was elbowed. Robin gets them both an ice pack. Then more medicine.

Later that night, Robin makes them stand up so she can rearrange the living room to pull out the bed from the couch. It’s their rule whenever one of them is sick. Much easier to sleep in the living room so there’s less obstacles to run into when going to the bathroom. She makes up the bed and lets them fall into it.

They fall asleep almost instantly, with weird sick snores because they can’t breathe that well right now. She heads to the bathroom, takes an extra long shower to scrub off as many germs as she can. Even if she knows that’s not exactly how it works. Takes her temperature and refills her little pocket hand sanitizer. She’s good for now.

The next morning, Steve and Eddie are a sick pretzel. Eddie’s blanket thrown across the room at some point, so he stole Steve’s. Pulling both Steve and the blanket on top of him since he was completely rolled in it. Half of their limbs hanging off of the bed, with one wrong move the rest of their body would follow.

Robin laughs and takes out her phone, taking a picture and sending it to Nancy.

Robin: Look at our boys

Nancy: Omg, they did that in their sleep?

Robin: Yep

Nancy: How are they?

Robin: Don’t know, haven’t woken them up yet

Robin: Needed evidence of this

Nancy: Let me know when you do

Nancy: I can’t keep Eddie away from his things for too long, just until he’s not contagious anymore

Robin: Thanks for sacrificing me again

Robin: Makes me feel so appreciated

Nancy: I already apologized and bought you food, what else could you possibly want

Robin: I’ll think of something

A message from Argyle pop up of Robin’s phone, making her burst out laughing again.

Argyle: Maybe we could convince Eddie to give Steve a rock and then they’ll be penguin married

Robin: I just laughed so hard I woke them up

Argyle: Oops, sorry dude

Robin: Don’t be, that was hilarious

Robin: It also would stop their dumbassery

Argyle: That it would indeed

Eddie wakes up with a coughing fit, the extra weight of Steve definitely not helping. After the initial confusion, Steve manages to role himself off of Eddie and lays on his back, struggling to breathe. Robin takes a deep breath, grabbing the cold meds and doing it all over again.

#morgan's friends au #stranger things #stranger things au #friends au #apartment au #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #argyle stranger things #pre steddie #pre ronance #sick fic

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morganski-19 · 19 days

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Eddie was still in the coma, attached to so many tubes it made Wayne sick to look at sometimes. But they were keeping him alive, so he’ll manage. They were making sure he got to see his boy awake again.

There was still a metal cuff that was attached to his wrist. The other end attached to the bar of the hospital bed. As if he could spring up at any moment and just escape. When he’s been half dead for days. When Wayne hasn’t seen his eyes open since before Eddie went into hiding.

He hasn’t seen his boy for over a full week. Even though he’s been lying there on the bed for the last few days. Eddie won’t be back with Wayne until he wakes up. If he wakes up.

Everyday Wayne’s been here in between his shifts. Can’t afford to take the days off, with having to get a new place and all. Part of his paycheck’s paying for the hotel room he’s staying in while trying to find somewhere new to live. Even the abandoned houses are too pricy, and the trailer park’s in shambles.

Honestly, if he could, he’d be pulling as many doubles as possible just to get a new place and soon. But that would mean not being here. Might miss when he wakes up. Wayne doesn’t want to miss that.

It’s not like he’s lonely here either. There’s been other visitors. The kid that Eddie always talked about from his dungeon game. The one that he secretly liked above the rest of the freshmen. His bandmates came by once, looking guilty as hell when they did. They haven’t been back since.

There’s been a few other people Wayne hasn’t recognized. A few more kids from the club, some he didn’t even know Eddie knew. But they always came to check in before heading across the hall to see the boy there. The Harrington boy.

Wayne recognized it was him one day when the door was left open. He was asleep, with an IV in his arm along with some other cords. Not as many as his boy, but still there. There was a girl in there too, short brown hair and wearing a baggy jacket with some patches. She was holding his hand. It never seemed like she let it go.

The same girl checked in on Eddie a few times. Tried to make small talk with Wayne but left when she realized he was disinterested. Always heading back to the Harrington boy.

All he knew is that they both came in at the same time. Got admitted one after the other, but Wayne didn’t know what order. That they both had to go through some type of surgery to deal with the injuries. Though he hears Harrington’s was more cosmetic than anything. Eddie’s was to save his life.

Not that he’s judging. People could do whatever they wanted for all he cared. There were different doctor’s for different things. Priorities and all that. He just hoped that Harringotn wasn’t higher up on the list than Eddie was. Eddie was clearly the one in the worst condition.

The kid that kept visiting Eddie went over there a lot too. Dustin, is the kid’s name. Wayne can’t remember it half the time, he’s too busy focusing on something else. And just bone tired. But after Dustin sits next to Wayne for a while, updates Eddie on everything that’s happened that day, sometimes reads to him, he heads right across the hall and does it all again. Every single time.

Wayne has no clue how this boy could possibly be close with both Eddie and the Harrington kid. It’s not like they were in the same circles. Or seemed to remotely like each other at all. Wayne can explicitly remember the Harrington boy being apart of one of Eddie’s hate filled rampages. But if he’s remembering right, there was something different that really pissed Eddie off about him. Something that’s wrapped up in the same reason Wayne’s never seen Eddie bring a girl home.

But day after day, Dustin goes to Steve’s room after stopping by Eddie. Wayne can see why Eddie liked Dustin. He’s loud and dramatic just like Eddie. Likes the same game, same books, even starting to like the same music. But Dustin and the Harrington boy. He doesn’t get it.

Until he’s walking down the hall to get a cup of coffee and hears it. The bickering that leads into laughter. Snippy comments about something filled with inside jokes. Suddenly it all makes sense. They almost seem like brothers.

It’s a few more days until Wayne meets the Harrington boy himself. A nurse coming to check Eddie’s vitals leaves the door open on accident. Harrington peaks through when he’s on a walk down the hallway.

“Why is he handcuffed?” is the first thing Wayne hears from the kid. Voice filled with anger.

Before Wayne can get annoyed at explaining the whole situation to another stranger, explain how he knows his boy is innocent, the nurse is yelling at him.

“You can’t be in here, sir.”

“I don’t give a shit. Why is he handcuffed? He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Wayne is surprised that he’s not the one making the case this time. Somehow, this kid he’s never met believes his nephew is innocent. Just like he does.

The nurse snaps her folder shut, walking up to Steve and waving for help through the door. “That is private information. Go back to your room before you’re forced to.”

Steve rolls his eyes with a snarl, undoing the buttons on the front of his hospital shirt. “He didn’t give me these. He didn’t kill those kids. I know, I was there.” He begins to pull back the bandages, revealing scarred, mauled skin that looks just like Eddies. The nurse scolds him to stop. “He’s innocent, so why is he handcuffed to the bed?”

“He is still a suspect and deemed dangerous. Now get back to your room.”

More another nurse grabs Steve’s arm to try and pull him to his room. He shakes it off.

“Dangerous,” his voice raises. “He’s been in a coma for days and you think he’s dangerous. What is he going to do, pop up out of bed like he hasn’t been fucking asleep for days and almost died just to run away? He couldn’t do that if he tried.”

Security gets involved now, physically pushing Steve out of the doorway. The nurse shuts the door to Eddie’s room, cutting Wayne off from seeing it. She apoligized for the intrusion and gets back to checking on Eddie.

“He’s right, you know,” Wayne says, still hearing the noise from the hall. “My boy didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Can’t escape even if he tried. Or attack anyone for that matter. He’s been through enough, he doesn’t need to wake up to a cuff around his wrist.”

The nurse purses her lips, strained. “This is from above me, sir. But if the news is true, the cuffs are staying on.”

When the nurse opens the door again, the hall is clear.

The next time Wayne sees Harrington is when he leaves for the day. Only able to fall asleep so many times in a shitty hospital chair before needing to go home. Security presses for him to stay in his room, warning him.

“Just going to make a fucking phone call. I’m allowed to do that right?” When the security guard crosses his arms, the kid hits him with, “Don’t want me to get my dad involved, do you? Isn’t he one of the main donors for this hospital? Be such a shame if he stopped.”

Wayne almost laughs when the security guard moves out of the way. Harrington giving him the finger with a smirk as he walks down the hall to the payphone.

Maybe Eddie and the Harrington kid had more in common than Wayne thought.

now with a part 2

#might be a part two for this idk yet #wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #post season 4 #pre steddie

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morganski-19 · 19 days

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might need to write a part two to this one, cause this is genius

(also totally where I thought it would go except for the penguin thing)

The One with the Cold

Robin walks out of her bedroom to find Steve wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Face down in the pillows.

“Robs, I’m dying.”

“You just have a cold, calm down.”

“Then why am I dying.” He rolls over with a groan, pouting at Robin.

She crosses her arms. “I don’t know what you want from me. You’re the one who decided to work with germ ridden six-year-olds.”

He lets out a long sigh. “I know.”

“Like seriously, I’m surprised you don’t get sick more. You practically get sneezed on daily.”

“I have a strong immune system.”

Robin glares at him.

“Normally. I normally have a strong immune system.”

Robin takes her hand and places it on his forehead. He’s slightly warm. “On a scale of dying to dead, how sick are you?”

“Just regular dying.”

She goes to the bathroom to get the thermometer out of the first aid kit. Putting it in his mouth, she walks away to get a glass of water and some cold medicine. When the thermometer beeps, she looks at it and hands him the pills.

“Just a slight fever, it should be fine. Want some tea or something?”

“Tea would be nice,” Steve says as he retreats back under the blanket.

Robin finds the empty tea box in the cabinet, cursing Steve for leaving it in there. If he wasn’t sick, she’d let him hear it. It’s a bad habit of his. She lets him know that she’s running across the hall to see if they have any.

Nancy’s door is unlocked, like it normally is. She opens it to find Nancy walking around the apartment with cleaning wipes in her hand. Scrubbing at the remotes and surfaces.

“Yours too?” Robin groans.

Nancy turns to her with an annoyed face. “Well, now I know where he got it from. Steve being a giant baby over it too?”

“What do you think? Came over to see if you had any tea, we’re out.”

Nancy throws out the wipe in her hand, placing the container on the counter. “We should, but Eddie always puts the empty boxes back on the shelf.”

“Wow, they were really made for each other,” Robin jokes. “If only they would do something about it.”

Nancy hands Robin a tea bag. “Maybe lay off the teasing for now, Eddie’s claiming he’s dead.”

Robin huffs. “That’s worse than Steve. He’s just regular dying. Do you happen to have a can of soup I can borrow too. I know we don’t have any.”

“Probably.” Nancy roots around in a separate cabinet, pulling out a can of chicken noodle soup. “Here. I just hope I don’t get sick because of this. I can’t miss work this week.”

“I mean, you just sanitized the entire apartment. And probably barred him to his room. You’ll be fine.”

Nancy knocks three times on the table. “Just in case.”

Robin heads back to her apartment after thanking Nancy for the food. “Guess who else your grubby kids got sick. Eddie. But he’s either more dramatic than you are or generally worse. He’s claiming he’s dead. Nancy’s busy cleaning so she doesn’t get sick either.”

She’s cut off when a choked snore comes from the couch. Robin laughs to herself, taking the kettle off the stove before it starts boiling. He won’t be awake for a while anyway. She grabs a book from her room and sits on the armchair, waiting for him to wake up.

It’s a few hours before he does. And the only real reason he wakes up is because he can’t breathe out of his nose anymore. Robin gets him more of the cold meds as he sits up. Shivering as the blanket falls off his shoulders. She actually makes the tea this time.

“Thank you,” he whispers when she hands it to him. Wincing when he burns his tongue.

“I just made that, dingus, it’s going to be hot.”

He shoots her a half-baked glare. “Can’t you save the insults for when I don’t feel like shit.”

Robin smiles. “Nope.”

#morgan's friends au #reblog

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morganski-19 · 20 days

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I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 15: Visitors

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

cw: minor descriptions of violence/physicall assault

Present Day, March 1987

“When are you going to move in,” Sarah asks over the phone.

“Next week, I think. I should get the keys in a few days and then we’ll take some time to get some basic furniture. Then we should be all good.”

Steve was excited for the move. Excited to get out of this house to something he owns. Something he can make his own. A place where he can walk through the door and see himself on the walls. In the furniture. Where it feels like home.

Not just a large house where most of the lights are never on. Suffocating anyone who lives in it.

It’ll be an adjustment. But he’s willing to do it. Ready to do it. He’s been stuck in the same loop for so long, he ready to break it.

“Any word from your parents?”

Steve still feels bad about that. If things went the way he wanted them to, Julie would never have to endure his parents. Over the phone or in person. Knowing her, she’d probably want to sit behind him in court. She’d see them there. But wouldn’t be dealing with him. That’s his job, not hers. Not anyone’s.

He’s been dealing with his parents for his entire life. He’s used to it. Knows how to shut up and say the right things just so the issue is dropped. Most of the time. Sometimes he fights back. Stands up for himself. Just to get knocked back down to the lowest peg possible. But he tries.

Now, it’s a totally different ballgame. They can’t knock him down again, not really. He’s stronger than he was back then. Older. More mature. Has a sense of his own self worth and how it doesn’t revolve around their opinions. They never cared enough to stay, why should he care about their words.

“Uh yeah. They got the papers, last I heard from the courthouse is that they got the response letter. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Well, that was to be expected. Anything else?”

Steve hesitates. “Yeah, um. I sort of got kicked out.”

“What?”

“Yeah, my dad said he wanted me gone. That if I thought I was going to get anything from them anymore I was wrong and can’t keep living here rent free. But they haven’t, like, sent a cop or anything to make sure I’m gone. So, it’s fine. I’m handling it.”

“That’s only because you have an in with the Chief, Steve,” Sarah says sternly. He can picture the frustration on her face. “When did they tell you this?”

“Two weeks ago.”

Sarah swears under her breath. “You’re cutting it close here, Steve.”

“I know,” he says before she can continue. “I know I am. But we’re so close to getting out. Most of our stuff is out of the house except for essentials, and I have people on standby incase they come home. I’m not going into this blind. I know how they are.”

“The minute they show up, the minute that this backup plan gets put into place, you call me immediately.”

Steve knows that Sarah’s just planning for the worst possible outcome. That it’s better to plan for things that might never happen than to scramble for a solution. He doesn’t want to think of the worst. Deep down, there’s a strong feeling that it’s actually going to happen.

Because he does know them. He knows how they will want to fight. They don’t want to do it at all. Threats have gotten them out of trouble before, it shouldn’t be any different now. Only Steve wasn’t giving up. Giving in. He separated himself from them enough that their words don’t mean shit anymore.

At least that’s how he’ll act. In court, he’ll tell the judge the truth, not caring what their going to say as a rebuttal. The way they’ll tear him down as much as they can. It won’t affect him then, but Steve has no way of knowing how it will affect him behind closed doors.

Despite everything, someone deep inside him craves for their approval. Their attention. That person has been getting satisfaction knowing that he’s getting it somehow. The same person that threw large parties just to get the cops called. Just to see if they would show up again. Give him a phone call. Steve wants to ignore that part of him, but it’s there.

That same part of him will probably cry when this is all over. Knowing that his parents are done with him forever. That they think the worst of him. Their opinion shouldn’t matter. It still does sometimes.

“I promise I will,” Steve assures.

“Good.” Sarah hangs up without another word.

Steve’s relationship with his parents has always been complicated. He knew that. Everyone knew that. There was a small hope that if he just acted right, did all the right things, the relationship would become less complicated. Less strained. He’d be their son the way other sons were. Not just a trophy to sit on a shelf, but something more. It never became that, no matter how hard he tried.

So he stopped trying, and look where he is now.

. . .

Julie was putting her plate in the sink when a car pulled into the driveway. Steve’s head turned to the door, wondering who it is. He never does that. People come and go here all the time, normally Eddie since he has a car. Robin if she gets him to pick her up on the way.

But Steve never turns his head when it’s them. Like he has some sort of sixth sense when it comes to random people showing up at his door. Always knowing who it is before he sees them. This is different.

Still, Julie doesn’t pay much thought on it. It’s probably just one of them. Or maybe one of the kids had their parents drive them over. It’s nothing.

Until they hear the garage door start to open. No one ever uses the garage.

Steve’s body tightens. Standing straighter that he normally does. He abandons his dish in the sink, walking toward the door leading to the garage. On attention. Waiting for something to pounce.

She’s never seen him like this before.

When he returns to the kitchen, there’s a frightened look in his eye. One that immediately makers her heart start to pound faster. It can’t be that bad. What can scare him into looking like this? Spine tied up with a string. Stance ready to start running. Afraid. He’s so afraid.

His mouth opens to say something as a car door slams. A rage filled voice traveling across the house. Enough that she can place who’s it is, even after only hearing it once. Steve’s fear matches in her eyes.

“Steve, who’s here?” Her voice waivers.

Without saying a word, Steve gently grabs her arm and brings her to the sliding door. “You can’t be here right now. They can’t know you’re here.”

“Steve,” she asks again.

He slides the door open, the evening air making her shiver. “The Byers house isn’t that far through the woods. You remember going there for Christmas Eve, right? Go straight about thirty feet, then make a right and keep walking.”

“Steve.”

The door starts to open, and the voices fill the other room. Steve’s eyes dart towards the sound before landing back on her. Only making her more scared.

“I’ll be there within an hour with the rest of our stuff. But it will be worse if they see you’re here. I don’t want them to hurt you.”

“Steve,” she pleads for him to slow down.

“You got it. Go to the loose fence behind the pool house and then walk straight a little bit. Then make a right and keep going. You’ll see their house after a while. Take this.” He reaches for the walkie on the kitchen table. Messing with the dial. “When you get to the woods, call for a code red. It won’t go to everyone, just to them. I’ll be there when I can.”

Before Julie can say anything else, Steve pushes her out the door and shuts it behind her. Sliding the lock into place.

Heavy breaths fill her lungs, burning slightly with the chilled air. She looks at Steve though the glass. Face frantically asking for an explanation. Trying to convince her the one she has is wrong. They can’t be here right now.

“Go, please,” Steve mouths through the glass. Terrified.

Julie turns. Walking to the pool house. Finding the loose panels of the fence and pulls them to the side. The same way she would do when she would sneak into this backyard. When she lived in that other house and would do anything not to be there.

Steve’s instructions replay in her mind. Walk straight for a bit, about thirty feet. Maybe more. The turn right and keep walking until you see the house. Call for a code red. Julie looks at the walkie in her hand before she presses the button. Seeing how her hand in shaking.

“Copy,” a man’s voice comes through the speaker. Julie unable to place it right now. “I’ll wait outside for you. If you don’t see the porch light, look for the flashlight. Call again if you get lost.”

Julie turns to the house again. The light click on in Steve’s room. He shouldn’t be much longer. There’s not much else to grab. He should be right after her.

She thinks about waiting. But she already called. They’ll get worried if she doesn’t show up.

Her mind can’t stop racing as she walks. Sun setting slowly as it becomes harder to see the ground. Squinting to make sure she doesn’t trip on a root or branch.

Did Steve’s parents really show up? Just unannounced. That part wasn’t as surprising when she thought about it. They seemed like the people to do that. Steve mentioned that they might come home. She didn’t believe it then. She barely believed it now.

He was right. They showed up at the worst possible time. Give it another week and they would have been out of there anyway. But no, they just had to show up today.

The rage of Steve’s father’s voice rings in her head. The threats on the phone call finding their way back to her mind. What would they do when they saw he was still there? He wanted the two of them gone, that didn’t happen. Not yet. It was happening, but something told Julie that wouldn’t matter. In their heads, Steve disobeyed them. Again.

. . .

Steve watches Julie round the pool house before he turns away. Knowing that she’s going to a safe place, that no matter what the Byers’ will take care of her. His safety, he’s not so sure about. Anger fills his dad fast, and it’s already bubbling over with the sight of the Beemer still sitting in the driveway. Or the fact that there’s lights on in the house.

He’s about to see his parents for the first time in two years. And he’s terrified.

Everything slows down like one of the horror movie scenes. Where the footsteps thump down the hall while the protagonist just stands and waits like an idiot. Waiting for it to strike. They don’t seem like such idiots anymore. Steve knows how feet can feel glued to the floor, but it has a whole new meaning now.

His back is straight, chest puffed out in a way that makes him look bigger than he is. Anything to make him more menacing than his father’s glare. Or fist. Or whatever is coming his way as his father finds his way to the kitchen.

For the first time in two years, Steve looks at his father’s face. Disgusted how much it looks like his. A constant reminder of where he comes from, no matter how hard he tries. Rage filled eyes meet Steve’s, waiting for him to make the first move. All he does is cross his arms, clench his jaw. Trap his father in a glare. He’s not speaking until he has to.

“Steven,” his mother breaks the silence. “We were not expecting you.”

She always tried to keep the peace between them. To try and keep in his father’s rage. It rarely worked. But she tried. It was the one thing Steve commended her for. Deep down, he felt bad for her. Trapped in an unhappy marriage having to follow after Richard just to make sure he didn’t cheat. But that still meant leaving him, and she didn’t call enough for him to forgive for that.

“No, we were not,” Richard finally speaks, voice tense. “What are you still doing here?” Considering you are no longer welcome in this house, that is.

His father can’t even speak his name. Steve debates walking past right up to his room. Filling the last tote bag before doing the same with the rest of Julie’s stuff. Walking out without an explanation. His father raises his eyebrow with a tilt to his head. Awaiting an explanation.

Instead, Steve decides to gloat. “I’m actually just waiting for the keys to my house. Didn’t want the neighbors to think you left your son to sleep in his car. That wouldn’t be so nice to the reputation, wouldn’t it, dad.” He continues to glare at his father, not backing down.

His father lets out a condescending laugh. “If you were so concerned about reputation, then we wouldn’t have to go to court. Would we, Steven? Instead, you think that you deserve some kind of justice. After all we’ve done for you.”

It’s Steve’s turn to laugh. “What did you do for me exactly?”

“Put a roof over your head, make sure there was money to put food on the table. Give you a car, clothes, expensive gifts. See you through high school, pay for your sports equipment. Everything you have is because we gave it to you.” Richard’s voice raises, almost yelling. Almost.

Steve resists a flinch when the last word booms through the room. Instead of saying another word, he side-steps his parents, heading upstairs. Flicking on the light in his room, stuffing as much of his stuff into a tote bag. His room already looks bare except for the sheet and the stupid car poster on his wall.

His mother appears in his doorway moments later, a more silent argument ready to be said. Until she sees the walls. “You painted?” she gasped.

“I did. Hope you don’t mind. I won’t be here much longer anyway. You can turn it back into what it was.”

A sickened smile forms on his mother’s face. “You never told me you wanted to change your room. We could have done it together.”

Meaning that she could have changed it while he watched. Hating how it would have turned out no matter what the product was. His mother never listened to him anyway.

“Well, you were never here long enough to change it, so I just did it myself.” He smiles to himself when his mother’s smile twitches. Knowing that his words stung.

The tote bag gets slung over his shoulder as he pushes past her. Leaving her to look at her ruined masterpiece as he packs up Julie’s room. Pulling out the tote bag she has underneath her bed and putting away the few essentials that she had left. Taking out another to shove her clothes into.

His mother gasps as she sees the paint over these walls as well. This room in particular being her favorite guest room. “What have you done?”

“Painted. Like I said.” He continues to fill the second tote bag.

Richard finds his way up the stairs, done waiting for Steve. Eyes landing on the desk where the picture of Julie and her mother rests. Steve grabs it before he can, gently placing it in the tote bag. Throwing some clothes around it so it doesn’t break.

“Has someone been living in here?” his father asks, not willing to admit he recognized the woman in the picture.

Steve takes a deep breath. “Oh no one special. Just your daughter.”

His parents stiffen at the same time. Bringing a sly smile to Steve’s face.

“I don’t have a daughter,” his mother says with feigned confidence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to him.” He meets his father’s eyes again. “I was talking about Julie.”

As fast the smile formed of Steve’s face, it’s smacked off. Cheek stinging with the contact of his father’s hand. His mother gasps, scolding her husband. Knowing nothing would stop him from doing it again. Steve grabs the desk chair, using it to balance him as he gets his bearings. Waits for the ringing in his ear to calm down, for the breath to return to his lungs.

“You are never to speak that name again,” Richard commands. “She is nothing.”

“Julie is not nothing.” Steve manages to stand, only to have to grip the chair again when Richard’s fist makes contact again. Lip darting out to taste the blood coming from his split lip. A short laugh escapes as he stands, planting his feet stronger this time. “You really thought I’d never figure out about her.”

“You think you are so tough, don’t you, Steven. Changing your room, getting a job, housing someone you don’t know. All of that you could do because of me. All of that you are going to lose. What will come of you when you don’t have us paying for everything anymore? When you can’t come crawling back to us when life gets hard.”

Steve manages to stand again. Plants his feet the way he’s learned to. Treating his father like every other monster he’s faced. Wishing that there was a bat in his hand to twirl around. Make a show of protecting himself.

He doesn’t need it this time. Richard might pretend to be strong and menacing, but he’s just a person. Who got a few good hits in because Steve wasn’t prepared for them. He is now.

“You would know something about housing someone you don’t know. You’ve been housing me for twenty years.”

Richard’s arm raises again, but Steve was ready for it this time. Catching his wrist before it can contact Steve’s face. It surprises the both of them, but Steve doesn’t let his guard down. His eyes dart to his mother, who hides just barely behind Richard. Laura was never one for confrontation, and now he’s something more than just her son. Now he’s a threat.

“I am more than what you think I am. I changed my room because I never liked the old one. Because I should feel welcome in my childhood home. I got the job because if my hard work, not because of my name. I gave Julie a home because she is my sister, that is a fact. And because her and I have something in common. Our father knows nothing about us.”

“Let go of me, Steven.” For the first time, Richard is the one with fear in his eyes.

“Are you going to hit me again?” Steve tightens his grip.

Richard shakes his head. “No, no I’m not. Don’t do anything rash here, Steven.”

Steve lets go of Richard’s wrist with a swing, letting it slam back into him. “I go by Steve, but you both always ignored that anyway. I’m not some kid you get to push around anymore, no matter how hard you’ll try. You might think I’m stupid for staying here after you told me to get out, you might think what I’m doing is pointless. But I’m not doing all of this for me anymore, I’m doing it for me and for Julie. Because while you thought she was just something you could pay to never think about again, you missed out on a pretty great kid.”

He takes a deep breath. “But I guess you’re used to that. You missed out on the kid you kept around. Even if you weren’t here to see me grow up. I hope it all was worth it. It was a lot of hell for me.”

Steve grabs the tote bags, slinging one over each shoulder and the other in his hand. Taking a moment to realize that this is the last time he’ll ever set foot in this house. It’ll no longer be his home. It should be sadder than it is. There were many good memories among the bad that happened here. But he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. It’s not over yet, but he’s free of one of his chains.

“You going to let me leave? Not like you want me here anyway.”

Neither of them moves. Not ready to admit they lost.

“Where are you going to go?” Laura asks like she cares. She might, but it was too little too late at this point.

“You don’t get to know that.”

Laura lowers her head in a nod, accepting. Steve pushes his way past them and down the stairs. Finding his keys.

Richard follows him down, not willing to give up. “Don’t think you can have the car, we paid for that. It’s ours.”

Steve laughs, undoing a keychain Robin made him from the ring. “I know, was just getting this off.” He tosses Richard the keys. ��There you go. House key is on there too, so you won’t have to bother about me coming back.”

He grabs his flashlight from the hall closet before opening the door. Sparing one last look at his parents, to find anything that shows remorse. All he sees is Richard’s hard stare and Laura’s sorry eyes. Nothing calling him to stay.

So he leaves.

. . .

Julie was lucky she didn’t get lost. She followed the directions and, after a while, saw the porch light. The last bit of sunlight helps her get the rest of the way there. Illuminating the path just slightly so she doesn’t trip.

“Hey,” a voice says from beside her, making her jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Julie turns to see the Chief holding a flashlight, the light pointing towards her. “I think you would have even if I knew you were there.”

“Come on, let’s get you inside. It’s getting cold out here.” Hopper steps in front of her, leading her the rest of the way.

Joyce is waiting for them in the house. Getting up from the couch when they open the door. “You’ve been out there for a while. I was getting worried. Oh honey, you’re shaking, are you cold?”

Julie looks down at her hands, seeing them shake. She doesn’t feel cold. More in shock than anything. Afraid of something she’s never really experienced. Only hearing his voice once over the phone. That was enough to spark fear. Not for her, but for Steve.

It was all she could think about when she was walking. What Steve was going to face when his parents saw that he wasn’t there. If they saw what they did to their rooms. If they saw her.

She agreed it was probably best that she wasn’t there. It would have probably made it all ten times worse. But leaving Steve alone in that house, with them. It felt like a bad idea.

He can take care of himself, she knew that. That didn’t stop her from feeling like she should be there. Be a barrier to stop them from hurting him. In whatever way they were going to. Maybe if there was a witness, he could leave without a fight.

“Julie, sweetie, are you ok?” Joyce’s warm voice breaks through her thoughts.

Julie tries to say something, but nothing comes out. It hits her all at once how scared she was for him.

“What time is it?” she asks.

Joyce checks the clock in the living room. “Just about seven thirty, why?”

Julie left a little after seven. So, assuming Steve left right after her, he should be here soon. And if he left a bit later, he should be here by eight. That’s if nothing went wrong. If they didn’t get into an argument. Or he didn’t get lost.

“He said he’d get here within the hour. So by eight. If nothing happened. Do you think something will happen?” Her voice can’t help but shake.

Joyce makes a face that is supposed to help but doesn’t. Full of sympathy, but one of no answers. “I’m not sure. But whatever it is, he’ll be fine. I know he will.”

“And if he isn’t?” Julie keeps seeing the small person that Steve becomes when he talks to his father. How the light drains out of him, and he becomes a shell of the person he is. His father isn’t even in person and can do that. What will happen when he is in person?

“He will be,” Joyce assures. “How about you come in, sit down. Can I get you anything? Water, hot chocolate?”

Julie lets herself be led to the living room. “Water would be nice.”

“Alright. El here if you want to see her, have someone to sit with.”

“Yeah, yes. I would like that.”

Joyce smiles at her. “Ok, I’ll go get her for you. Jim.” She nods her head toward the kitchen before heading down the hall.

Hopper brings her a glass of water, which she takes. Taking a sip before setting it on the table, seeing how her hands still shake. Joyce comes back down the hall motioning for Hopper to join her in the kitchen. Leaving Julie alone in the living room. Until El comes to sit next to her.

“Joyce told me about what happened,” she says softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“He used to hit my mom,” Julie blurts out. “He used to hit my mom when they were together, and she made him angry. Steve made him angry. I know he did. He called the house last week and, and kicked us out. And we didn’t leave yet, because we couldn’t. Steve doesn’t get the keys for a few more days. What if he hits Steve, too?”

El’s hands find hers, holding them together to calm the shaking. Julie turns her head to meet El’s eyes. Seeing an expression that feigns strength but fear still rests in her eyes. She’s scared for Steve too.

“I have known Steve for longer that you have. I know how strong he is, how brave he is. He will be ok. I promise.” There’s a certainty in her words.

Somehow, Julie believes her. “Ok. Ok, yeah. Yeah. He’ll be ok.”

“Would you like a hug?”

Julie nods. Her breath starting to even out again, the adrenaline keeping her tears at bay failing.

El opens her arms and leans forward to give Julie a hug. Julie takes it with a choked sob, tears starting to fall. El pats her back awkwardly, not quite sure what to do but it’s helping. With a few deep breaths, Julie’s able to pull herself together. Pulling away from El to wipe the tears from her eyes. She won’t be ok until Steve shows up, but she’s better. For now.

“Thanks, that helped.”

El smiles. “Good. Do you want to watch something while we wait? Keep your mind off of it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

El clicks on the tv, finding a channel with some reruns that Julie doesn’t pay attention to. Her mind is still on Steve. Knowing that the there’s no sunlight left to guide the way, and he has no walkie to let her know when she’s coming. Yet she still grips the one resting in her lap. Hoping by some miracle she hears Steve’s voice through the staticky connection and knows he’s ok.

But nothing comes through. The only noise filling the house is the tv, and the not so silent whispering between Joyce and the Chief in the kitchen. After a while, Hopper heads back outside with the flashlight, walkie stuffed in his jacket pocket. He’s going to look for Steve.

It feels like forever before there’s a knock at the door. Making Julie sit up straighter. Joyce emerges from the kitchen to open it. A very winded Steve behind the door, tote bags slung over his shoulder and flashlight in hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes while catching his breath. “I had to go the long way.”

Joyce ushers him in. Steve barely gets a chance to put the bags down before Julie’s on her feet and pulling him into a hug.

“You’re ok.”

“Yeah, I’m ok. Did you get here ok, I know I kind of freaked you out.”

Julie lets go. “Freaked me out. Steve, you terrified the shit out of me. After the phone call last week and the little I knew about him I,” she pauses when she sees his split lip. “He hit you?”

Steve touches his lip. “Yeah, he, uh, he did. But I’m ok. I’ve had far worse than this.”

“You say that like it makes it ok. It doesn’t.”

He looks down with a shake of his head. “I know it doesn’t.”

“He really hit you because you didn’t leave.” Julie can’t seem to wrap her head around the idea. But then, she would never hit someone for any reason. Let alone that.

Steve clears his throat. “Sort of. Why don’t you go sit with El for a bit, I have to talk to Joyce for a second.”

She gives him a confused look, knowing he didn’t answer her question fully. But she still goes to sit on the couch again. Him and Joyce go to the kitchen, speaking in whispers. Something tells her that reason he was attacked was because of her.

. . .

Joyce uses her walkie to let Hopper know that Steve is at the house. She gets him a glass of water and makes him sit down, looking at his lip.

“It’s really not that bad. You and I both know this is the least beat up I’ve ever been after a fight.”

She sits down in the chair across from him. “You should listen to Julie. That still doesn’t make it ok.”

He looks down at his hands. “I know. Just easier to think of it that way. Out of all the things he’s done, he’s never hit me before.”

Hopper comes into the kitchen, sitting down next to Joyce. “You ok, kid?”

Steve shakes his head. “I will be, just need a second. Thanks for making sure she got here. Making sure she was safe. I didn’t know what would happen if he saw her there. Just knowing that she was there at all was the reason why,” he can’t finish the sentence.

“Of course. You both can stay here as long as you need to,” Joyce offers.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Hopper crosses his arms. “You could press charges if you wanted, make your case a little stronger.”

“It’s my word against his, and my mom will never speak out against him.” She never did before, why would it change now. “Can I use your phone, I need to make some calls.”

Joyce nods and Steve heads to the phone in the hall. Pulling out Sarah’s number from his pocket. Dialing it with a deep breath. She wouldn’t be happy with this.

She wasn’t. Cursing Steve through the phone with an “I told you so”. But grateful that Julie is safe, grateful that he is too. She gives him a day before she’ll say anything. Give him time to make it look like Julie was just at an extended sleepover. For them to move. He thanks her just before she hangs up.

Robin is next. Takes a second to make sure he’s ok before cursing out his dad. Offering to go over there herself and give him a piece of her mind. He tells her it’s a bad idea, she disagrees, but still says she will keep it all for when she sees him in court. That way there will be witnesses. She makes sure he’s ok, offers to come over. Steve assures that he’s fine and will talk to her again in the morning.

The last person is Eddie. Steve already knows how he’ll react, but still hopes he won’t freak out that much.

“Where are you right now?” he asks after Steve fills him in.

“The Byers. It was the closest place that was safe.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Steve holds the phone closer to his mouth. “Eds, really. You don’t have to come over.”

“Like hell I don’t.” Eddie hangs up before Steve can protest anymore.

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want to see Eddie right now. That if knowing that his boyfriend was willing to drop everything just to be there with him right now didn’t bring him comfort. Part of him didn’t want Eddie to see him like this, though. Fragile, partially homeless. Taken a few hits to the face.

As if Eddie hasn’t seen Steve beat up before. Pretty much all of Hawkins has, it’s a reoccurring event. But those times were different. It was because of his own idiocy or protecting someone. This was at the hands of someone that already caused him more pain than he should have gone through. He didn’t know how to admit that he got hit for no reason.

He heads back to the kitchen, tells them that Eddie’s coming over. They don’t say much, but have a knowing look in their eye. One that scares the hell out of him, but makes him feel seen at the same time. Steve could be himself in this house. Around these people. It wasn’t even his, and it felt more like home than he’s ever known.

“I never asked if you were ok,” Steve says as he sits down next to Julie. “Are you?”

Julie shrugs. “As ok as I can be I guess.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Did he hit you because of me?” Julie asks after a pause.

Steve would do anything to lie to her right now. To dart around the question and make up some excuse. Knowing her, she would see right through it. She didn’t need him lying to add to tonight. But would it be better for her to know the truth?

There’s a knock at the door before Steve can try to answer. He thinks it’s for the best. Enough has happened for one night.

He stands when Joyce opens the door. Almost getting pushed out of the way when Eddie sees Steve in the living room. They meet in a hug, Steve feeling more relieved that he thought he would.

“Those jackasses couldn’t have waited a few more days before they finally came home. They had to do it while you were still there.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “Yeah well, they never had the best timing.”

Eddie notices the cut on his lip when he pulls back from the hug. Eyes filling with anger. “I’m actually going to get arrested for murder this time.”

“Eds, it’s really not that bad.”

“Not that bad.” Eddie’s voice raises. “Not that bad, Steve. You have a fucking split lip. Your eye is puffy.”

Steve tries to calm Eddie down, still conscious of the people around them. Trying not to make it look too revealing. “It could be worse.”

He sees Joyce say something to the girls that gets them to leave and head down the hall. Leaving him and Eddie alone in the living room.

“How hard did he hit you? Can you hear me alright? What about your vision, nothing’s blurry. You can still see fine?” Eddie clocks when they leave, grabbing Steve’s head with both his hands, assessing the damage.

Steve tries to pull Eddie’s hands away, make this less of a big deal. “I can hear and see fine. He didn’t hit me hard enough to do anything. I’ve had worse, it’s the least concerning thing that’s happened in the last few hours.”

“Your father, a grown man, assaulted you. His son. And you think there are more concerning things that happened in the last few hours.” Eddie’s face falls. “Just because you’re an adult when he hit you doesn’t make it better.”

“I know that,” he admits. Starting to feel the weight of everything finally sink in. “I just don’t know how to process it all right now. Tonight’s been a lot and I just need a minute, a day, I don’t know. Something. I just can’t think about that right now.”

“Ok,” Eddie says softly. “Ok. Then we won’t talk about it anymore. When every you’re ready. Does it hurt though, do you need ice or anything? Last thing, I promise.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, no. It’s ok. I’m ok right now.”

Eddie nods. Kissing Steve before pulling him into another hug.

Just when Steve gets his life together, it all falls apart again. Or at least feels like it. In just a few days, the pieces will be put back into place. His life will get back on schedule. His schedule. Where he can move into a house that he bought, with his own money. To a job that he got, by himself. And life that has nothing to do with his last name.

Even if the court date is a few months away, and he’ll have to see his parents again. But after that, he’ll never have to interact with them again. He will be permanently free.

Right now. He’s trying to hold it all together. Making his brain slow down to give himself a minute to breath. Before the crushing reality of all that just happened presses down on his chest. And they’ll take hold of his mind again. Just for a little while, then he’ll break free again.

Joyce insists they stay the night. Explaining how Julie is already set up in El’s room, and how the two of them can take the pull-out couch. Just like that, with no explanation needed. Or excuses. Maybe Steve could tell everyone about them soon.

It’s still early when everyone goes to bed. Just wanting the day to be over, even if they’re not tired. But the comfort of darkness lets Eddie scoot closer, hold Steve a little tighter. Make him feel put together even though he’s slowly starting to fall apart.

Tomorrow is a new day. With plenty of problems to be solved and conversations to be had. Telling the rest of the group to stay clear of his old house and change his contact information with a few people. Try to get the keys a few days earlier.

Tonight is meant for sleep. To float around and exist without anything pressing his mind. Wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms and feel comfort for a brief moment. Until his looks in the mirror again and see the healing cut on his lip, and the slight bruise on his cheek. Almost fall apart all over again until he pulls himself back together. Each time a little weaker than the last until he finally breaks.

It’s so easy to fall back into old habits. To bottle everything up for the sake of other. For the sake of himself. Steve really can’t process everything right now. It would sting more that it already does. So, it gets pushed away. Until he’s ready to face it again.

He only hopes that time will be sooner than most. So he doesn’t blow up at someone that’s undeserving. Saying something he can’t take back.

But right now, he doesn’t need to think about that. Right now he needs to sleep.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #julie lawson #joyce byers #jim hopper #long lost/secret sibling #i don't know which ways home fic #cw minor descriptions of violence #tw minor descriptions of violence #cw physical assault #tw physical assault

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