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hbyrde36 · 10 months

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Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 2

Ch 1 ao3 link

*Eddie - 1986*

Dustin burst in the door without knocking. A habit Eddie had been trying to break him out of for years. One of these days he’d do it at the wrong time and see something he’ll wish he hadn’t. Maybe then he’d learn his lesson.

“So, don’t freak out but…”

“Ugh” Eddie groaned, pushing his face further into his pillow. “It’s never good when you start a sentence like that. At least let me get some coffee first.”

“Fine.” Dustin relented, stomping back out into the kitchen of the Munson trailer.

Ten minutes later and with coffee in hand, Eddie motioned for Dustin to continue with whatever nonsense he’d woken him up for this morning.

“I told the guys about Steve, about you knowing him.”

“Dustin!” Eddie shouted, incredulously.

“What? It’s not like it’s some big secret or something!”

“You didn’t know!”

“No, I didn't. But I should have realized, and I shouldn’t have said what I did the other night about him. That wasn’t cool. That’s why I told them, because I felt bad, and because I was thinking that maybe we could do a little investigation of our own?”

The kid meant well and it was sweet that he wanted to do something to make Eddie feel better, but what did he think he and a bunch of teenagers would be able to do about it?

Eddie shook his head. “I already told you man, his parents are loaded. I’m sure they left no stone unturned. What could we possibly do that they haven't already tried?”

Dustin’s face spread into a cocky grin. “For starters, Mike talked to Nancy. Did you know she dated Steve for a little while right around the time Will got lost in the woods?”

He had known that actually. In fact he vividly remembered catching the two of them in the boy’s bathroom that one time. He’d never thought about it in reference to Steve’s disappearance before though. The couple had broken up a few months before it happened.

“Yea, okay. So, they dated. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I'm not sure if it does, but the police never even talked to her. Mike said she was willing to talk to us about him, if you want.”

Eddie couldn’t believe he was actually considering this, but it was hard to deny how intrigued he was to learn more about Steve. Even if it didn’t lead to any answers about what had happened to him.

“You know what? Fuck it. Let's do it.” Eddie declared, slamming his now empty cup down on the table for emphasis.

“Language! I am a child!.” Dustin gasped, in a dramatic impersonation of his mother.

“Shut it, nerd.”

“You literally play D&D with children! Who’s the nerd now?!”

Eddie had never really had a full conversation with Nancy. They said hi in passing, and whenever he came to the house to play with the boys of course, but that was the extent of it. Now he was supposed to sit here in the Wheeler’s basement, like it was any other day, and talk to her about her ex boyfriend. Awkward.

Or, maybe not.

According to Dustin, Nancy knew all about their game, including how she, Steve, and many others were used as characters in it. She understood their curiosity. She herself had always thought that there was something suspicious about the whole thing. That maybe there was more going on in Hawkins than a single missing boy.

“Do you remember the day in the cafeteria, when Steve got into that screaming match with Tommy and Carol?”

Eddie shook his head. “No, but I heard it was brutal.” He’d skipped out early that day to meet up with Rick for more product. The whole school was buzzing about it the next day, he could have kicked himself for missing the show.

“It was. I was shocked. I had never seen him act like that. I know he and I hadn’t been together that long, so I could be wrong, but It seemed so out of character. I mean, everything he said was true, and those two probably deserved it, but the three of them had been best friends for years. He never stood up to them before, so why now? It felt like it came out of nowhere.”

She paused, taking a breath and gathering her thoughts before continuing.

“I remember him looking at me, just before he stormed off when it was all over. He didn’t look mad, it was more like.. I don’t know, scared, maybe?”

Well, that was a little ominous. Eddie and the younger boys shared a look as Nancy got up from her seat on the couch and started pacing.

“He called me later that night and asked me to come over so we could talk. When I got there, he stepped out onto the porch instead of letting me come inside. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but looking back, it was a little odd. We sat on the steps and he said that he was sorry, but he couldn’t see me anymore. I asked him if there was someone else, but he said no. He just wanted to be single for a while and concentrate on other things. It was fine. I don’t think either of us were too upset about it. We hugged and said our goodbyes, and that was the last time I spoke to him.”

She stopped pacing, standing directly in front of Eddie as she finished her story.

“I still saw him around, of course, and heard about how he quit the school teams. Which seemed weird, because, what was this more important thing he was focusing on? Clearly it wasn’t sports. Then he started skipping school, so it wasn’t about his grades either. I started to wonder if maybe he had gotten into drugs or something.”

Or, he could have just been lying to let you down easy, Eddie thought, but that wasn’t very kind. Instead he said, “If he was, he wasn't getting them from me.”

Dustin gasped. “Wait, dude, are you really a drug dealer?”

Fuck. “Um. No?”

“You are! You’re totally a drug dealer!” Dustin said, bouncing in his seat and pointing a finger in Eddie’s face.

Eddie groaned. “Please stop yelling ‘drug dealer’ before Mike's parents hear you and kick me out!”

“Does that mean you smoke pot?” Lucas asked.

“Can we smoke pot?” Mike added quickly, grinning.

“Absolutely not!” Eddie and Nancy shouted, simultaneously.

He turned to her, hands raised. “For the record, I don’t sell anymore. Not since my supplier went to jail.”

Dustin’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh shit, is Reefer Rick a real person?”

Nancy gave Eddie a hard look.

“What?! We all used people from our life in the game!” He said defensively. “Look, guys, I think we’re getting off track here.”

“Is there anything else weird you remember about Steve from before he disappeared?” Will asked Nancy, speaking for the first time. Eddie threw him a grateful smile.

“Not that I can think of.”

“What about his parents?” Lucas asked.

“I never met them, but he always said his dad was an asshole. The way he talked sometimes, it sounded like they weren’t around a lot.”

The image of it flashed in Eddie’s mind for a moment. Steve, all by himself in that big empty house of his. Haunting its hallways in the middle of the night. He shook his head roughly to clear it.

Maybe it was silly to think of it that way. What teenage boy wouldn’t love having the house to himself? No one hassling you or telling you what to do. He couldn’t explain why, but somehow he didn’t think Steve liked being alone.

Eddie was startled when Nancy placed a hand on his arm. She looked at him, face pinched with concern. He realized suddenly that they were alone. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t realize the boys had left. She saw him looking around and explained.

“I sent the boys upstairs for lunch. It looked like you needed a minute.”

“Yea, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.” He got up to collect his things, and headed towards the basement steps.

“It’s the time of year. I get it, I've been thinking about him a lot too.” She said, following him.

Eddie shook his head. It wasn’t the same, she was allowed to think about Steve. To miss him. What right did Eddie have? “That’s different. You dated the guy. We weren’t even friends.”

“You’re allowed to miss him, Eddie.”

“No, I'm not.”

“He thought you were brave, y’know.”

“What?” He stopped walking, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around to face her.

“He told me once, the first time I sat with him for lunch. You had jumped up on your table, ranting and raving about whatever had bothered you that day.” She sounded amused at the memory. “Tommy and the others sneered and complained, but not Steve. He smiled as he watched you. He said, ‘sometimes I wish I could be brave like that. Just stop caring about what everyone else thinks and be free’.”

He finally looked back at her over his shoulder. She smiled at him kindly, it seemed genuine so he returned the gesture.

“Thanks, Wheeler.”

Eddie didn’t stay to join the boys for lunch, though he did make plans to meet up with them the next day. He needed some time alone to process what they’d learned so far. He did his best thinking in the van, so he drove around town aimlessly, blasting Metallica and trying to sort through it all.

Eventually he made his way to Loch Nora, slowing when he reached Steve’s street. He’d never been inside the Harrington house, but he knew where it was. There was no car in the driveway, so he rolled to a stop in front of it. A ‘For Sale’ sign was stuck in the grass a few feet to the right of the mailbox.

He hadn’t realized Steve’s parents were selling the place. Good, Eddie thought. It would make his next task that much easier. He’d come up with a plan, of sorts, as he cruised around Hawkins. The first step? A good old fashioned breaking and entering.

*Steve - 1983/1984*

Two days after finding Eleven out in the woods, Steve cut ties with all his friends. He made a big scene out of calling Tommy and Carol assholes in the middle of the cafeteria, to really drive the point home. He turned himself into a social pariah overnight, anything to keep people from wanting to get close to him.

He let Nancy go. It was easy enough. He found that he wasn’t even all that upset about it, he knew she wouldn't be too sad either. He’d seen how she looked at Jonathan that day at school, when the news broke that Will was missing. They would get together before too long, he was sure of it.

He quit the swim team, basketball, and only continued going to school because dropping out would be too suspicious. He started skipping days a lot.

Eleven, who he’d taken to calling El for short, needed her own space. He would have loved to decorate the guest room for her, would have let her paint the walls and everything. Unfortunately, his parents still came home on occasion, and it would be too hard to hide. Instead, they worked together to fix up a space for her in the attic. Even when they were home, his parents never went up there.

He didn’t know anything about little girls, but neither did El, so they figured things out together. He set her up with a T.V. to keep her company when he was gone during the day. He gave her a bunch of catalogs to look through, and told her to take a marker and circle anything she liked. Clothes, bedding, curtains, toys, he bought it all. Perks of the Harrington name, and a credit card with a high spending limit.

By the time her attic room was done, she finally felt secure enough to sleep in her own bed. She felt safe in the knowledge that her new brother wouldn’t abandon her as she slept, or lock her inside. Sometimes though, he would wake up to find she’d come into his room in the middle of the night. Almost always when it rained.

They quickly became a little family, he and El. Steve didn’t have any siblings, hadn’t thought he even liked kids, and certainly never knew how much he wanted a little sister until she came along. He taught her what he knew about the world, and in return he learned the importance of patience and kindness. Together, they discovered unconditional love.

For a few wonderful months, life was good. There was a little hiccup in January of ‘84, when eleven accidentally knocked a vase off the counter in the kitchen. It was fine. She caught it with her mind before it hit the floor, then levitated it back upright on the counter. It was the first time she’d used her powers in front of Steve. Powers he had been completely unaware of.

He’d hyperventilated for a while, but once he recovered he explained to her that, ‘No sweetie, I didn’t know you could do that, but it’s fine. I promise. No, I'm not afraid of you. It’s just another part of you, and I love who you are.’

It was another turning point for them, a catalyst that compelled her to explain more about where she came from. What sort of things they did to her at the lab, and she finally told him all about Papa and the other children.

Steve had never pushed her on any of it, happy to just keep her safe, and wait until she was ready to talk. Once she did? Well, he was fucking livid. It was all he could do not to go to the newspapers, or Chief Hopper, and blow the whole thing wide open. Hell, he would have found the place himself and burnt it to the ground if he didn’t know for a fact that there were other kids living inside.

In the end, he did nothing. Too afraid that if he was caught, or worse, there would be no one who knew about El, or where she was. There would be no one to take care of her.

It was all his fault. He should have known better. It was his job to take care of her, and he had failed in that task spectacularly. It was spring break 1984, Easter Sunday. He’d just wanted to take her out to breakfast, something he could remember doing with his own parents for the holiday when he was young. Back when they at least pretended to give a shit about him.

They were as safe about it as they could have been. He picked a small restaurant two towns over, where no one would recognize them. She looked so happy when she smiled at him over her massive stack of waffles.

He didn’t see it for what it was, when the two nondescript white work vans pulled into the parking lot of the diner. Movies had him envisioning a legion of fancy black town cars pulling up on him one day, a swarm of dark suits surrounding him, demanding to know where the girl was. He should have known that Papa would be a bit more subtle.

The bell above the main entrance door dinged as a new customer entered. El looked up reflexively at the sound and her eyes went wide. It was the only warning Steve had before a tall man with white hair and an impeccably tailored gray suit slid into the booth next to him.

“Hello, Eleven. You’re looking well.”

Steve watched as she curled in on herself. Turning back into the little girl he found in the woods right before his eyes.

“Papa.” She gasped, bottom lip trembling.

The man turned to look at Steve. “I’m Dr. Brenner. Now, don’t go getting any big ideas, young man. I have people on every door to this place. You’ll never make it to that pretty car of yours in time, and I can assure you that if you try, they will not hesitate to... deal with the situation.”

Steve froze, not remotely prepared for this scenario. He didn’t know what to do and was scared of making a misstep. He wasn’t afraid for himself, he didn’t care what happened to him, but he was terrified for El, and the possibility of losing his sister forever.

“Here’s what's going to happen.” Brenner continued. “Eleven is going to leave this place with me, right now. You, Mr. Harrington, yes I know all about you, are going to go back to your life and forget that any of this ever happened. If you so much as think about telling anyone what you’ve seen, we will know, and we will come for you.”

“I’m not going to just let you take her.” Steve protested, heart pounding.

“You don’t have a say in the matter.”

“If you take her then you’ll have to take me too!” Steve raised his voice a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the other diners.

“That’s not an option.” Brenner hissed. “I have no need for someone like you”

Steve lowered his voice to a whisper, knowing that angering the man further wasn’t going to help. “I’m not leaving her. I’ll die first. You’ll have to kill me right here and now in front of all these people. Do you really want to make that big of a scene?”

Steve could tell the man was considering it. “Please.“ He begged. “I'm sure you can find some use for me. I’ll do anything.”

Brenner sighed. “Very well. You will both follow me outside. Leave your car keys on the table, Steven, you won’t be needing them.”

The man slid out of the booth, threw more cash than necessary on the table, and walked out the door.

Steve scrambled out of his seat at the same time El did, and they collided in a desperate embrace. She was shaking, crying. Steve ran his fingers through her short curls.

“I'm sorry El, I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

She looked up at him, blinking through tears. “It’s not your fault, they would have found me eventually, one way or another.”

“I’ll get us out of this somehow, I promise.”

She took a small step away from him and shook her head. “No, Steve. You have to let him take me. Only me. You have a life, parents, a family.”

He shook his head, taking her small hand in his. “You are my family El. I’m not leaving you. We’re in this together. You and me, always.”

Chapter 3

@penny00dreadful @buckleybarnes @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @adaed5 @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @hotshot9 @manda-panda-monium

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ao3 #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #fanfic #ao3 link #life is a game #Canon is just a crazy game of D&D #alternating pov #Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson are cousins #Steve Harrington and Eleven taking care of eachother

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allietheartsysimp0 · 4 months

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Stu: y/n you have to marry someone who is hot when they’re angry

*billy glares at stu*

Stu: Yeah like that

#scream #ghostface #scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher #skeet ulrich #matthew lillard #scary movies #whats your favorite scary movie #my pov #pov #first person pov #alternating pov #imagine #ghostface imagine #billy loomis imagine

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parksonu · 10 months

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So, I made a comfort art on the Lestappens spiders, while I am thinking over the plot for the comic. I am very glad that you liked the sketches and I hope for the support of my AU.

#charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #f1 #spider man #alternating pov #fanart

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royjamielibrary · 5 months

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RoyJamie Recomendations — Works in Progress (Part 1)

“Name’s Jamie Tartt, mate.” And there’s something about the way his eyebrows arch, the way his smile changes, slants at the corners with arrogance like he thinks he’s doing Roy a favor introducing himself — “I’m your new executive sous.” He’s dropped his hand now, and Roy half-wishes he’d taken it while he had the chance, because now they’re just standing there, sizing each other up in some demented, testosterone-fueled parody of a staring contest, and it’s horribly awkward. Roy grunts. “That’s weird, because I think I’d remember it if I hired a fucking thrift store mannequin to work in my restaurant.”

He’s about to get into the driver’s seat when another flash goes off right in his face and some smirky fucker says, “So, you like taking it up the ass?” “Love it,” Jamie’s mouth says before Jamie’s brain can get in on the action. “Feels fucking great. Have a good day!” Or: the post-Season 1 fic where, Instead of self-destruction via reality show, Jamie tries self-destruction via public and very messy coming out. It works out better than expected.

There’s a part of Jamie that’s still thirteen and awestruck, or seventeen and infatuated, or twenty-two and bitter and still fucking obsessed, that still can’t believe he lives in a world where he gets to have stuff like Roy Kent inviting him over for tea. Can’t quite believe this is his life. Jamie’s summer, and beyond.

“Jamie. They want to have a season where the lead is openly bisexual, and they have men and women contestants. And they called me. Asking about you.” “Holy shit,” Jamie breathed, steadying himself against his kitchen counter. “They want me to be the fucking Bachelor?” or, jamie is the bachelor. roy is a contestant-but not by his own will. the world gets to watch them fall in love anyway.

In a world where everything is a distraction, his Master's thesis deadline is rapidly approaching and the pressures of academia are crushing, university student Jamie Tartt finds a unique safe space with a handsome broody man willing to help him get his work done, through positive or negative enforcement. At Nelson Road Cafe, incentives and coffee orders are customisable.

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hellcheerficdatabase · 3 months

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heart begins to beat

Author: makeshiftcandy

Rating/Warning: Explicit, referenced ED

Chapter Count: 11/11

Description:

He ran when she died.

And she killed him in turn.

Vecna is dead. Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson were, too.

Until they weren't.

Tags: Alternate universe- canon compliant, post-canon, fix-it, angst, hurt and comfort, emotional hurt and comfort, Eddie needs a hug, Chrissy needs a hug, slow-burn, smut, alternating POV, multiple chapters, status: completed

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five-sided-dice · 6 months

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POV Tips

Hot tip:

If you're trying to write multiple POV's, try reading a book with multiple POV's to see how its done. I recommend the following book; Artemis Fowl. It's an eight book, three book series, very nicely written. And Heroes of Olymus.

They're both great references for this kinda stuff

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knifedancer · 7 months

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Falling in Autumn

The miraculous causes side effects. Marinette picks up the hibernation instincts of a bug: seasonal exhaustion, seeking warm and dark spots to burrow into… I think you know where this is going.

Hibernation trope, Felinette style. Gratuitous Fluff.

Originally posted on AO3.

Silly Thoughts

~~~~~~~

It was a rare frigid autumn where even the daylight hours felt cold regardless of the amount of sun peeking through the clouds. It was so chilly that Paris had already gotten an unseasonable snowfall that week! Not enough for snowball fights, but just enough to leave everything sporting a thin layer of white. Parisians were already bundling up in coats, scarves, and mittens to stay warm. One resident took this bundling to the extreme…

Marinette had known the miraculous, when worn for long periods of time, would rub off certain intrinsic effects on their holders. Tikki had first told her about it when Chat Noir started being able to purr and seek out pets on her balcony during his night-time visits to the bakery. The Ladybug kwami told her that the effects varied from holder to holder but one thing was always common among those that wielded bug-themed miraculous: winter dormancy.

At first the idea of going into a hibernation-like state seemed silly to the teenage bug-heroine. Then the first fall since attaining the magical earrings drew nigh. Marinette noticed that no amount of sleep seemed to leave her feeling rested, she was more affected by the cold, and she tended to try burrowing into dark but warm places unconsciously. Her superhero outfit changed to be slightly thicker and lined with a mysterious, unknown furry material to trap in body heat. Marinette likened it to fleece or velour, it acted like super strong thermals under her suit. Even then, Ladybug would find herself occasionally curling up against Chat’s side during particularly chilly night patrols out of desperation.

Fortunately for the Parisian heroes, it seemed Hawkmoth was also impacted by the insect miraculous effects. The period from Fall to Spring had proven to be a much quieter time for akumas. Tikki had explained that not only would the butterfly holder be impacted, but his living butterfly counterparts as well. The fluttering wings of a magic-powered butterfly were no more impervious to cold and turbulent weather than your common garden variety. If Hawkmoth was attempting to send out an akuma, they could be blown entirely off course by strong storm winds or slow to a mere crawl when the temperature dropped too low. This was a boon for the heroes and all of Paris. It meant an attack happened less frequently but the akumas were usually stronger than the rest of the year. The two heroes joked that it was probably because old Hawky was frustrated with the miraculous effects!

During the school days, Marinette would double or even triple up warm layers. There was even a box of handmade scarves and mittens packed away solely for this purpose. Then she would sleepily cuddle up next to Alya and partake of her warmth on their shared classroom bench. The two friends were always affectionate with each other, so it didn’t seem too odd to the casual observer. Doctors had excused the syndrome as some sort of odd thyroid or seasonal narcolepsy condition. However all tests came back normal and it did not appear to be harming her overall health nor development. Ultimately, she was advised to take extra vitamins and the Dupain-Chengs were to keep an eye on her condition in case things worsened.

Unfortunately, this year, Marinette had been moved to the back of the classroom and the friendship with Alya strained to the very limit due to Lila’s interference. There would be no friendly cuddles or shared warmth this year. The sleepy girl had made do so far by adding a ludicrous fourth layer – a second non-bulky removable jacket liner – and using disposable heating packs to keep her core temperature up. It had worked well since the end of September but, now that it was mid-November, it was getting harder to stay warm and awake in class. Even Tikki, who snoozed more like a real ladybug rather than the omnipotent personification of creation that she was, shivered in Marinette’s interior breast pocket.

‘If only Alya was still my seat mate, then I wouldn’t have to worry!’ Marinette thought sadly. She looked at her current seat mate from the corner of her eye and sighed. ‘He’d probably push me to the floor.’

Along with the seat reassignment, another drastic change had entered her school life in the form of Adrien’s cousin: Felix Graham de Vanily. The same uptight, monochrome fashioned, and grouchy boy that tried to kiss Ladybug and caused three akumas was now in her class. Marinette was suspicious of him at first, afraid he was working for Hawkmoth or looking to cause trouble. In a way, Felix was. He had joined back in August and immediately took the open seat next to her with that mocking smile of his. Within the first day, he had pushed her buttons until she snapped. Marinette won the battle that day but Felix left with a smile that seemed entirely too pleased. He had tried to needle her every day after that and, while she did not lose her temper as explosively as she had then, they wound up trading quips almost daily. Their constant bickering had eventually formed into an odd companionship and understanding. Not quite friends, not really enemies.

Unfortunately for Marinette, her stock of hand warmers had finally run out and they were on backorder. She had tried her mother’s favorite reusable heating pad but it cooled too quickly and the lavender scent enticed her to doze. As the day went on, the pigtailed girl noticeably drooped in her seat as she slowly succumbed to her hibernation instincts.

~~~

It was a typical Tuesday for Felix. He arrived at school early, spent an agreeable amount of time reading his newest novel, and avoided the idiots in class. All but one anyway, although she hardly counted. After their first argument and the subsequent trouncing he received, he had come to realize there was more to Dupain-Cheng than met the eye. He had tried to provoke her again but was pleasantly surprised that she was stronger than he expected and possessed a lightning quick wit. Felix came to the decision that she was an adequate enough individual to associate with while he was stuck in this hovel. He had learned she did not like liars; in turn she respected his personal aversion to being touched. Their developing camaraderie was cordial. They had paired up for almost every project and, although she was often tardy, the dark-haired girl had always completed her work in a timely manner.

He chanced a glance at his seat mate and noticed she seemed to be doing her best impression of a melting snowman in summer. Felix clicked his tongue softly as he returned his attention to the board, ‘Dupain-Cheng has been more lethargic these last few weeks. She’s hardly cognizant of any of our classes, yet somehow still manages to receive satisfactory scores. She must be the embodiment of luck itself to pull that off!’

He picked at a piece of lint off his black cashmere peacoat and straightened the lapel. It was warm but did not do enough to stop the icy gusts from traveling down his neck. Sadly, most of his winter wear was still stuck in London as this change in the weather was unanticipated and his mother was still shopping for an acceptable abode for them to live in. Felix spared his table mate another quick glance – today she was wearing a bright red coat and a knitted scarf the color of his favorite caramel hard candies. She always seemed to have a different colored set of scarves and mittens that complemented her outfit. They did not look to be from any fashion brand he had heard of and he knew she fancied herself a designer. If the items were handmade, they were of excellent quality. Perhaps he could commission a piece from her…

Felix was lost in thought, contemplating how he could broach the topic with the girl, when he felt a weight land against his shoulder. He jerked at the disturbance and turned to find Dupain-Cheng slouched against him. He frowned down at the slumbering girl before attempting to jostle her awake. When she did not move, he managed to lift his arm out from beneath her and grabbed both her shoulders in an effort to re-orientate her towards her side of the bench. Felix soon realized his mistake when Dupain-Cheng unconsciously dove into his side and slipped her arms around his midsection with a muffled hum.

He stiffened at the action and hissed quietly between his teeth, trying not to draw attention to his plight. Felix had always detested physical contact, so much so that he could barely withstand hugs from members of his own family. To have Dupain-Cheng, a mere acquaintance, touching him in such a way was disconcerting and confounding. However, being this close allowed him to more closely observe her unimpeded. She smelled faintly of lavender and honeysuckle. Her black hair seemed to shimmer blue when the light hit it just right, like a raven’s wing. Her lashes were long and fluttered like butterfly wings as she slept. Across her small nose and cheeks were a charming array of freckles that could only be seen at this close proximity. With his arms still slightly raised, he twisted a bit to examine how to disentangle her from his person. Unfortunately, due to this action, one of her hands accidentally slipped beneath his coat and found purchase on his knit sweater.

He froze as the sleeping girl seemed to temporarily come to life, wiggling herself under his coat and latching onto his waist. Within mere seconds, Felix had half of Dupain-Cheng draped across his lap and the other half tucked securely into his side. Dumbfounded, he looked down at the girl in disbelief. Was she seriously snuggled against him right now? Did she inherently trust him not to molest or pester her? He tried to unlatch her arms and hands from his person to no avail; her grip was tighter than leather pants in August. As he looked on, a small smile formed on her lips and she nuzzled closer with a contented sigh. ‘Well, at least one of us is comfortable,’ he huffed in resignation before settling his left arm over her slumbering form, having nowhere else to put it.

Felix looked around, noting that no one had noticed the sudden disappearance of his seat mate nor the struggle he had just gone through. As the class period wore on, the boy unconsciously began to relax into the warm embrace of the teen asleep in his lap. It was not until an hour had passed that Felix realized he had become accustomed to her presence and the intimate closeness of their bodies. He glanced down and watched the peaceful look on her face as she slept. With his free hand he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a silent chuckle. ‘Seems I can handle being touched by you, not that you gave me much choice in the matter…,’ Felix mused to himself. He lifted the double-breasted lapel of his coat and settled the material over her with a fond smirk. ‘It’s a good thing I have a packed lunch today. I don’t think I’ll be moving any time soon.’

~~~ Time Skip to the End of School ~~~

Marinette was disturbed from her nap by a loud ringing noise, scrunching her face until it passed. She smiled and burrowed deeper into the warm, sandalwood scented pillow she had wrapped herself around. It was the softest, most comfortable pillow she had ever laid on. The pillow shook as it chuckled. ‘Wait…pillows don’t chuckle!’ Her eyes flew open and she jerked back slightly, her eyes slowly rising up a sweater covered chest until she met Felix’s amused face. “I see you’ve finally awoken, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I was starting to think I was going to have to bring you home with me.”

“Eep!” Marinette cried out as she jumped away. With the force of the movement, she overshot the bench entirely and was launched towards the aisle. She braced for a painful impact...that never came. Instead, she felt herself held up by a strong arm that was wrapped around her waist. She opened her eyes to find a set of shocked green mere centimeters away. Felix had lunged to grab her, planting one hand on the desk to steady them, giving the appearance that he had executed some sort of elaborate dip. They stared at each other in stunned silence for a moment before he finally pulled them both to their feet, clearing his throat as he let her go and looked away.

“I-I-I’m so, so sorry, Felix! I wasn’t aware of w-w-what I was d-doing!” Marinette stuttered, turning a rosy shade of pink as she attempted to hide in her fluffy scarf.

The boy in question was suppressing a blush with all his willpower. They had been in such a suggestive position mere moments ago when he caught her, luckily there were no students left in their classroom to witness it! Coupled with the unexpected feeling of loss he was experiencing when she abruptly retreated, he was entirely too flustered for his own comfort. He cleared his throat, “It’s quite alright, Miss Dupain-Cheng. You were unable to be woken and seemed quite comfortable. However, if you feel obligated to make amends to me…”

Felix allowed a pregnant pause to form as a devious smirk spread across his face. Marinette felt her stomach twist with trepidation – she knew that look meant trouble. ‘What could he possibly ask for?’ She thought wearily, her mind beginning to whirl with increasingly ridiculous predictions.

“…I find myself lacking in essential warm winter accessories,” he finally finished nonchalantly. The girl stared at him dumbfounded as her spiraling thoughts ground to a halt. It dawned on her that Felix was attempting to make a joke to break the awkward atmosphere between them, relying on their usual banter to do so. She choked on air and then burst into giggles. Felix felt a new warmth bloom in his chest at the sound. He had never made her laugh like that before!

“I think that can be arranged, monsieur,” she replied slyly. “I know an up-and-coming designer in high demand. But, for the great Felix Graham de Vanily, I’m sure she could make an exception.” They exited the classroom with smiles on their faces and a warmth in their hearts, no longer feeling the brisk breeze that whipped at their cheeks.

~~~

In the coming weeks, Felix began sporting new scarves, mittens, and even coats in charcoal grey, caramel brown, pine green, indigo blue, and garnet red – which was oddly his favorite. Their classmates seemed curious by his sudden change of color preference, mistaking it for an opportunity to befriend the derisive boy. Some questioned him, attempting to find out where he had bought such luxurious garments. He brushed them all off in his usual dismissive manner, deciding not to divulge any information.

Felix’s lip quirked upwards as he silently stroked the silver monogram on the tail of the scarf on his way to the classroom. The monogram itself was an ornate shield containing his initials but, integrated within the vines that clung to the edges of shape, were the letters ‘MDC’. His small smile reached his eyes as they met the friendly bluebell ones at the back of the room. A hidden message, a reminder of that one cold day that brought two souls closer together.

Perhaps, together, they might stave off more than just the cold weather.

#felinette #marivanily #marinette dupain cheng #felix graham de vanily #felix fathom #felix x marinette #drabble #fluff #miraculous ladybug #one shot #alternating pov #enemies to friends #hibernation #open ending #implied friends to lovers #pre-feelings

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nadare-writer · 3 days

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Sanji Characters: Roronoa Zoro, Sanji (One Piece), Charlotte Pudding, Johnny (One Piece), Yosaku (One Piece), Hatchan (One Piece), Gin (One Piece) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Food Service, POV Alternating, Rivalry, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Food Trucks, French cuisine, Japanese cuisine, Food Porn, Roronoa Zoro and Sanji Bickering, Eventual Happy Ending, Angst and Drama, Past Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji, Fights Series: Part 2 of Fic Challenge Prompts 2024 Summary: Zoro and Sanji aren't happy when the monthly lottery assigns their food trucks to the same location. With memories of the past stirred up, it isn't long until things reach a breaking point. It takes an unexpected event to forge a new bond between them.

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deancaspinefest · 1 year

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The Waiting (is the hardest part)

Author: Kinetic_Passion | Artist: lotrspnfangirl Posting on Sunday March 12

When Dean returned from the Endverse, Chuck cursed him to time travel uncontrollably for the rest of his life. Although only archangels can time travel, Cas finds his own way to be there for Dean. Never knowing when Dean will appear again makes things tricky to navigate, even after they sort out their feelings, since they often find themselves with an earlier version of the other. Still, despite the uncertainty, they find creative ways to make the most of it and to make things easier for each other. Throughout the years, as Dean continues to appear at different ages, Cas starts to see more of Dean’s past and the pieces of their relationship fall into place.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

Ever since Dean had come back from the post-apocalyptic hellscape that the angels had sent him to, something was…off. Much in the way that future Cas had noticed Dean wasn’t of his time, present Cas could tell that although this was his Dean - the Dean of his /time/ that is, he also seemed to not be? As though he simultaneously was and wasn’t in their timeline. … When Dean suddenly vanished diagonally through their reality the next day, his fourth dimensional edges vibrating strongly enough that Cas sensed it even though he wasn’t present, Cas wished he had said something sooner. … “What do you mean fuzzy?” Sam asked, leaning against the counter in Bobby’s kitchen for support, his hand massaging his temple in an effort to keep his barely concealed albeit misdirected anger under control. Cas breathed helplessly. “His fourth dimensional edges were not as defined and solid as they should have been. They were… blurry.” Sam scrunched his face in thought. “The fourth dimension…as in time?” Cas nodded, watching as Sam released his temple and his restraint along with it.

“He just came back from an apocalypse timeline, and you saw that something was wrong - but you didn’t SAY anything?” Sam started to pace around the kitchen, perhaps as another outlet for his frustration.

Cas looked down at his feet. “I - didn’t want to worry you two.” Sam scoffed. “Well -” “I was wrong.” Sam went silent at Cas’ apology, stopping in his path to face him. “I thought I could figure it out before anything came of it, or hoped it was just an after effect of the time travel. I see now that that was the wrong way to protect Dean. It seems as though it wasn’t an after effect, but a warning instead.” Cas sheepishly looked back up at Sam, who was now leaning against a chair. He raised his brow - a cue for Cas to continue. “It was different, but I should have recognized it. I should have known better. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Cas searched Sam’s face in hopes of finding softening edges, tuning his ears for notes of forgiveness. Sam sighed and sunk down into his chair. “So how do we get him back?” … Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait long. It was only three hours later that Dean reappeared, and Cas immediately retrieved him, the displacement of air sending Sam’s notes into a flurry. Dean looked distraught, shaking and mumbling about a pterodactyl. Much to Cas’ chagrin, Dean’s fourth dimensional edges didn’t look solid again. If anything, they looked worse. They didn’t look like the outlines of a being anchored in time.

[continue reading on Ao3 on Sunday March 12]

#Destiel Fic #Destiel Art #Destiel Fanworks #DeanCas Fic #DeanCas Art #DeanCas Fanworks #Pinefest Previews #2023 Dean/Cas Pinefest #Author: Kinetic_Passion #Artist: lotrspnfangirl #Canon Divergent #angst and fluff #alternating POV

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desdasiwrites · 1 year

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– Mary E. Pearson, Dance of Thieves

#book quote of the day #mary e pearson #dance of thieves #fantasy #romance books #ya literature #enemies to lovers #spin-off series #alternating pov #trilogy #beautiful cover #currently reading #book quotes #book recommendations

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hbyrde36 · 9 months

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Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 4

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 ao3 link

*Eddie - 1986*

“You wanna tell me about your little visit to the Harrington place last night?” Hopper asked, arms crossing over his chest.

Eddie looked down at the clothes in his hand, he’d clearly been caught red handed, but he couldn’t just admit to it, could he?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie deadpanned.

“Seriously? Don’t give me that shit, Munson!”

“Jim..” Wayne said. A clear note of warning in his voice.

Eddie grinned. “You gonna arrest me, Hop?”

The chief sighed heavily. “You steal anything?”

“No” Well, unless you count an outdated catalog and a dead boy’s jacket..

Hopper nodded to himself, as if he had known that already but still had to ask. “No. I'm not here to arrest you, but you can’t go around doing shit like this, It’s not safe!” Eddie couldn’t help but notice Hopper sharing a quick, but very loaded look with Wayne, before he continued. Weird. “What were you doing there?”

Eddie glanced at the kids, who were still sulking and looking everywhere but at him.

“Don’t look at them, I asked you a question.” Hopper snapped.

“If I'm not under arrest, I don’t see why I have to answer you.”

Apparently, Wayne had had enough. “Boy, if you don't start talking, I’M gonna put you in handcuffs.” He said, raising his voice to a level Eddie hadn't heard before.

“Okay, fine! It’s not a big deal. I knew the house was empty and I thought I'd check it out. That’s all, I was just curious.”

“Right. So you weren’t off on some vigilante mission to solve the Harrington kid’s disappearance?’

Eddie whipped his head around to look at the kids. So that’s why they were sulking. Fucking traitors spilled the beans.

“If you already knew then why pull the whole cop routine?”

Hopper pinched the bridge of his nose, mouthing along as he silently counted to ten. “Do you think the feds havn’t scoured every inch of that place? Looked into every possible scenario?”

Eddie shrugged. “They didn’t talk to Nancy Wheeler.”

“Why would they talk to her?”

“Oh, I don't know.” Eddie began, tone absolutely dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe because they dated only a couple months before he went missing? Don’t you find that odd, Chief?”

Hopper sighed again, all of his hardass pretense falling away. “Maybe, kid, but it's out of my hands.”

He picked up his hat off the coffee table and moved towards the door, pausing for a moment with his hand resting on the latch. “They really never talked to her?” Hopper asked, turning again to face the room.

“No, she told us herself when we interviewed her.” Dustin helpfully supplied.

“Jesus christ.” Hopper breathed. “This ends now, you hear me? I don’t want to see any of you poking around where you don’t belong. If that boy is still out there somewhere, well, we’re just going to have to trust that the government will find him. The rest of us will just have to wait and see.”

With that, he finally took off. Leaving Eddie to deal with his uncle and the boys alone..

Eddie shuffled his feet. It was one thing to mess around with the chief, but he loved his uncle and he didn't like disappointing him.

“Wayne, I'm sorry. I..”

“We’ll talk later. Ok, son?” Wayne interrupted, but not unkindly. “I gotta get a few hours of sleep in me before I can deal with this.” He didn’t wait for a response, just set off in the direction of his room.

Eddie rounded on the boys, ready to start pointing fingers. “What were you guys thinking? Why would you tell Hopper about our investigation?” Jesus, he sounded just like them now. Investigation, pfft.

“He cornered us this morning at Will’s!” Mike said, defensively.

“Yeah! Come on, Eddie. You know he’s dating my mom now. What were we supposed to do? He had your vest!” Will pleaded.

“Maybe if you had told us what you were doing we could have thought up an excuse.” Mike accused.

“Alright, alright. It's fine. I’m not mad. Just, I guess that’s it then.”

“What?! We can’t give up now!” Dustin argued.

“Yea, forget Hopper. Did you find anything last night?” Lucas asked eagerly.

Eddie thought of Steve’s room, and the items he had safely tucked away in his own. He didn’t like lying to the kids, but there was no way they’d drop this thing if he told them. It was all too weird. Even if he had no intention of listening to Hopper himself, he could at least keep the kids out of it.

“No, nothing. Place was empty.”

All of them but Dustin groaned in unison, murmuring some form of ‘got in trouble for nothing’ and ‘waste of time’.

“Come on, i’ll drive you little shits home” Eddie offered, motioning them all to the door. The least he could do was get the kids out of the house so his uncle could get a good day's sleep.

Unsurprisingly, the boys were able to convince him to take them to the diner before shuttling them home. It was an easy sell since he hadn’t had any coffee or breakfast yet that day. Dustin was subdued, which should have been Eddie’s first clue that something was up, but he was too lost in his own ruminations to think anything of it.

Later, once the others had been dropped off, Dustin cleared his throat loudly from the passenger seat. He was staring daggers into the side of Eddie’s head.

“What??”

“Are you gonna tell me what you really found at Steve’s, or are you gonna try and lie to me again?” Dustin spat.

Eddie scowled but didn't even try to argue, just turned the van around and drove them back towards the trailer park. He should have known Dustin would see right through him. Not only were they cousins, they were also best friends. Maybe if he begged, the kid wouldn’t tell the others.

The pair quietly slipped into Eddie's room, careful not to make too much noise and wake up Wayne. Once inside, Eddie softly told Dustin the whole story, pulling out the catalog, the jacket, and finally the photo from his wallet.

“I don’t know what any of it means but..” Eddie trailed off.

“It’s weird.” Dustin added, finishing the sentence for him.

A few beats of silence went by between them, where Dustin kept looking from the jacket, emblazoned with the name Harrington across the back in big bold letters, to Eddie’s face. The kid’s mouth was screwed up in the way it always did when he was on the verge of figuring something out, like a particularly difficult homework assignment, or the best way to defeat an opponent in combat.

“Did you.. like Steve?” Dustin asked.

Eddie tensed. It was the last thing he was expecting, so even as he tried to play it off, he knew it wouldn’t be convincing. “Sure, like I said, he was an okay guy.”

Of course Dustin didn’t buy it, or let it go. “No, I mean, did you have like, a crush on him or something?”

Eddie made a high strangled noise in his throat, which Dustin didn’t seem to notice.

“It's just, I couldn’t help noticing how your face got when Nancy talked about him yesterday, and I mean, taking this?” Dustin lifted the jacket up between them as if it were a damning piece of evidence in a murder trial.

Eddie paled. “Dustin, you can't just ask people shit like that. It’s not..it’s not safe to be openly different, and if someone wants you to know, that, about themselves, they will tell you when they’re ready.”

Dustin's face fell. “Shit. I'm sorry.” It sounded like he meant it, as it the gravity of what he’d implied by asking had just occurred to him.

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean any harm by it. I do trust you, Dusty, it's just that you’re a kid still.”

“I would never tell anyone, cross my heart.”

“I know.”

“Does that mean..?”

“Yea, buddy. I’m…gay. Wayne knows. He's the only person I ever told. He’s good with it.”

Dustin lurched forward, hugging Eddie around the middle. “Thanks for telling me.”

”You’re welcome.” Eddie chuckled, as if the kid had given him a choice. He had always thought Dustin would be okay with who he was, he just hadn’t been quite ready to go there yet. Now though, he was glad. He felt lighter, happy that another important person in his life knew the full truth of him.

“So, Steve huh?” Dustin asked, smirking.

“Oh, shut up man!” Eddie groaned, picking up the nearest pillow and flinging it in Dustin's face. The two of them immediately dissolved into hysterical laughter.

They must have been a little too loud because Wayne came knocking a few minutes later.

“You boys hungry?” He asked, pushing the door open a little.

Eddie quickly shoved Steve’s jacket behind his back. Not suspiciously at all. “I thought you had to work tonight?”

“I called out, figured I should keep an eye on you tonight after this morning’s debacle.” Wayne answered.

“You don’t have to babysit me, I won’t do it again, I swear.” Eddie begged, mortified at being treated like a nine year old.

Wayne raised his eyebrows. “Dusty, if you’re going to stay you better go call your mom. Ed and I need to have a little talk.

Dustin didn’t need to be told twice, and all but sprinted out of the room.

Wayne stepped further inside and shut the door, leaning against it.

“I’m sorry Wayne, I swear I wasn’t breaking-in, breaking in. I was just curious and the kids talked me into it and..”

“I know, okay? And I’m not mad. I’m not thrilled that you were out there sneaking into someone's house like a common criminal, but I know you weren’t looking to steal anything. I’m sure it’s been hard, and I know you're curious about what happened to that boy but…I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to do anything to draw attention to yourself.”

“Have you met me?”

“Yes, Ed. I have, and that's sort of what I'm getting at here. You already go around looking all flashy like you do with the hair and the chains and what-no, and you know I'd never tell you to not be yourself, but there's bad people out there. I just worry about you, is all.”

Oh. Is that what this was about? Was uncle Wayne worried he was going to be gaybashed in jail or something if Hopper hadn’t let him off with a warning?

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but please be more careful.”

When school started up again on Monday Eddie arrived at his locker to find Dustin already waiting for him. The younger boy shoved a paper under his nose as he worked the combination lock.

“What am I looking at here?” Eddie asked, squinting at the too-close writing.

“I made a list, places Steve used to frequent.”

Eddie sighed, wrenching the locker door open and swapping out textbooks. “Like what?”

“Well school, obviously, but more specifically his locker, the gym, and the pool. Also, and these came from Nancy, the drive in, Enzo’s, skull rock, and the junkyard, weirdly.

“So, here, three make out or date places, and the junkyard? This is…not a lot to go on.”

Dustin shrugged. “That's all I've got for now, I'll let you know if I come up with anything else.”

“No, you won't.” Eddie said, shoving a finger into his cousin’s chest. “You and the rest of the party are officially staying out of this from now on. I'll let you know what I find out but that’s all.” He snatched the paper out of Dustin's hands and stalked off down the hall before the kid could argue.

The locker was a good idea, but Eddie already knew it was a bust. Steve’s locker had only been a few down from Eddie’s own, and he knew it had been given to someone else last year. Maybe he could ask the ladies in the office what happened to all the stuff that must have been in there, or check the lost and found.

He looked down at the list, thinking, as he stepped around a corner and almost barreled right into Chrissy Cunningham. He stopped himself in time but she still jumped back, startled, and he had to grab her by the shoulders to keep her steady.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You okay?” He asked, looking her over.

“I’m fine!” She said, laughing and pressing a hand to her chest. “And wide awake now, so actually I should thank you for that. I hate mondays.”

“Happy to be of service.” Eddie said, grinning.

He’d always liked Chrissy. She was sweet and kind, unlike her other cheerleader counterparts. Much like he and Steve, they weren’t quite friends, but sometimes they would talk. She treated him like a person, not the freak everyone else thought he was. The comparison gave Eddie an idea.

“Hey, this might be a weird thing to ask, but were you friends with Steve Harrington at all?”

“Only a little, but we ran in the same circles, and we were neighbors. Why do you ask?” She said, tilting her head to the side.

The bell rang and suddenly Eddie noticed that the hall around them had emptied out.

“Shit, sorry to make you late. Do you think we could talk later and I'll explain?” Eddie asked.

“Sure! Do you want to meet me in the library for lunch?”

“It’s a date” He said, with an exaggerated wink.

*Steve - 1984/1985*

Steve woke up in incredible pain. His back felt raw and he winced as every small movement he made pulled at the many stitches he could feel in the skin back there. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking into the bright light. The first thing he noticed was that he was in the infirmary in a hospital bed. He had mopped the floor in here during his cleaning duties so it was familiar enough. The second thing was El, asleep in a chair right next to his bed.

He smiled, overwhelmed with happiness that they had both survived, and grateful that she was right there where he could see her breathing and alive. He didn’t want to wake her but he hoped someone would come by soon to check on him. He was in desperate need of more pain medication.

As if on cue, Owens came strolling around the divider curtain seconds later.

“Good to see you awake, Mr. Harrington. How are we feeling? Any pain?” He kept his voice low, perhaps also not wanting to wake the girl who had so recently saved all of their lives.

“Just a little.” Steve breathed.

Owens offered him a small smile. “Of course. I’ll have someone bring you the good stuff in a minute.”

“How long was I out?” Steve asked.

“Not long, a day. We had to give you some blood, and a lot of stitches. There’s no sign of infection, though we’ll have to keep an eye on you for a few more days. Other than the pain in your back, how do you feel?”

“Fine, uh, normal I guess. Why? Should I not feel normal?”

“Well, you have the distinct honor of being the first person we know of to be injured by one of those things, but not killed. We couldn't be sure that there wouldn’t be side effects, but so far so good.”

Steve decided to not think about that little tidbit of information. “How is she?” He asked, tilting his head in El’s direction.

“Tired, but fine. Worried about you. She’ll be happy to see you awake.”

Shortly after Owens stepped away, the nurse, a woman Steve had never seen before, came by and pushed something through his IV. Before long, his pain level evened out enough that he could finally think straight. He reached out and smoothed a hand over El’s where it rested on the edge of his bed.

She was instantly alert, eyes snapping to Steve’s so quickly it made him laugh. The smile she gave him then was bright, something he hadn’t seen since before they’d been caught.

“Are you okay?” He asked, searching her face. She did look exhausted, with deep bruises under her eyes.

“You are the one in the bed hooked up to machines.” She pointed out.

“Right. I’m okay, I promise.”

“If I had been stronger, quicker, you would not have been hurt.”

“Sweetie, no. Don’t do that to yourself. Not everything is your fault. You did amazing and I'm so proud of you. If those dogs had gotten out and into Hawkins, I.. there's still some people out there I care about, and you saved them. You saved all of us.”

“It is my fault they were able to get through in the first place.”

He shook his head. “It’s not. That asshole Brenner...”

“No Steve, you do not understand. I’m afraid you won’t love me anymore once you find out, but I have to tell you something.”

He gripped her hand tightly but stayed quiet. He wanted to reassure her immediately that there was nothing she could do that he wouldn't forgive, but he knew whatever this was was eating her up inside, and she wouldn't accept his words until he’d heard her out.

“There was a man here when I was little, who worked for Papa. He was nice to me, and said we were alike. He said he wanted to help me become stronger. He was..” She paused, turning her wrist over in Steve's grip and running a finger over her tattoo. “One. Papa had put something inside him to stop his powers, but he tricked me into helping remove it. He killed the guards. I thought we were just going to escape but then he started killing the others. I tried to stop him, but I was too late to save them.” El cried as she spoke, gently pulling her hand out of his to wipe at her eyes.

Steve’s chest squeezed in sympathy as he watched and listened. Distantly, he was also furious at Brenner. He had no doubt the person she spoke of was the Henry from the doctor’s story. How dare he take an event that had so clearly traumatized this poor girl, and frame it in such a way to make Steve doubt her? It was despicable, much like everything else that happened in this god-forsaken place. He had to get them out of here.

El sniffled and continued. “We fought. I don’t know how I did it, but I sent him through to the place where those creatures live. I killed him, Steve. I am a monster.” Her tears turned to sobs that wracked her small frame. His heart broke.

Steve sat up, it was excruciating and he was almost positive he pulled more than one stitch, but nothing was going to stop him from comforting her in that moment. He wrapped an arm around her as best he could and squeezed.

“You’re not a monster. He was hurting people, you were defending yourself. You’re allowed to do that. You’ve been saving the world your whole life, haven't you?.”

The last bit earned him a weak grin, and that was worth all the pain and more.

The story about One answered some questions that had been bothering Steve since their arrival. It made more sense now, why El felt so strongly that all of this mess with the creatures and the gates to another world was her fault. Although, he still very much disagreed with her on that point. It also explained where all the other children had gone. He had hoped for a happier ending, one where the kids had been let go and reunited with their families. It was an unlikely fantasy, he knew, but this truth was so much worse than he could have guessed. Steve would have wondered at the man’s motives, but he was dead. What would be the point?

It seemed that Steve’s heroics in the basement of the lab had earned him a good amount of respect with the various scientists, doctors, and orderlies. He was even granted a bit of freedom once he was released from the infirmary. The door to his room was now locked only at night, though he was still confined to his floor. He was also, surprisingly, allowed to have the improvised weapon he’d used to keep the monsters at bay. He’d been shocked upon arriving back at his room to find the baseball bat leaning against the desk, its end stained with dried black blood.

He was healing nicely, but wasn’t permitted to resume his work for a while. His new unfettered access to the rainbow room provided him a good amount of distraction, as did the increased time with his sister. Following the battle with the dogs, Owens had started letting Steve sit in on his sessions with El. Brenner didn’t like it, and certainly wasn’t about to offer the same, but it seemed that the two lead doctors held complete control over their respective parts of this fucked up project.

Against his better judgment, Steve was beginning to like Doctor Owens, trust him even, if only a little. He treated Eleven like a human being, like the child she was, and not like the science experiment Brenner did.

By Summer 1985, Steve was back to work cleaning, and of course continuing to secretly map out the facility. He was glad to be busy again, but he'd been feeling rather miserable lately. After months of seeing Eleven for hours daily, suddenly several days would pass without him seeing her at all. She promised that everything was okay, but wouldn’t tell him what she was so busy with. That alone would be enough to put him in a bad mood, but he was also just so hot and uncomfortable all the time. He knew it was Summer, but you’d think an operation of this size would be able to afford decent air conditioning. He tried not to be grumpy about it when they did get to spend time together, but he thinks El noticed.

Eleven was late and Steve was annoyed. He’d finally convinced an orderly to give him a calendar and today was the 4th of july. Not the most important of holidays, but he’d still wanted to spend it with her. Even if they couldn’t eat hotdogs and watch fireworks.

No matter how much he tells himself to calm down, Steve can feel himself getting agitated. Figuring that sitting still isn’t doing him much good, he decided to pace the halls, eventually waving his hands in front of one of the cameras like a maniac until someone finally noticed him.

The elevator dinged a few feet away from where he was standing. The doors opened a second later to reveal Doc Owens. “Steve, I think you’d better come with me.”

Steve had never been in this part of the building before, the place where Eleven worked with Dr. Brenner. In the middle of the room was a large tank full of water, and he could see her floating in the center of it. He’d been warned to keep quiet, until she was done. Something about ruining her concentration. He would have listened, if El hadn’t started thrashing in the water the minute he arrived.

Before anyone could stop him, Steve threw himself in the tank, and cradled her in his arms. She came out of her trance with a loud gasp, looking up at him with wide terrified eyes. “It’s inside you. That place, it’s inside you, Steve.”

“It’s as we suspected then. We’ll have to lock him up until we know more about the.. Infection.” Brenner was speaking to the other Doctor but his voice carried in the wide empty room.

Eleven rose in the water, moving to stand between Steve and the rest of the onlookers. “No! I won’t let you do that to him.”

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, torn between being scared at what the she had just said to him and aggravated that he had no idea what was happening.

“Let’s get you both out of there and dried off. Then we’ll talk.” Owens offered, waving the few guards that had gathered off, as he and Dr Brenner approached. “Just talk.” He added, glaring at his colleague.

Not having any choice, Steve and El climbed out. She allowed a woman to wrap her in a thick robe, but Steve declined, the air on his wet skin felt good after being so warm all day.

“We’ve begun to think recently that something might have been left behind when you were scratched by the creature.” Brenner began.

“But it’s been months, and I'm fine!” Steve argued, taken aback.

“It’s complicated to explain.”

“Try anyway.” Steve said, through gritted teeth.

“There's a lot more going on here than just what we do in this lab.”

“I’m not an idiot!” Steve snapped, “and since you're all telling me there’s something related to those, things, inside me, I'd like to know what’s going on!”

Owens raised his hands in a placating gesture. “We’ll tell you what we can, but you have to stay calm.”

“I’m fine!” Steve shouted.

The two doctors shared a look, which only pissed him off further, but he wisely kept his mouth shut this time.

“We’ve been seeing signs, and readings, that lead us to believe that somewhere nearby, someone is trying to open a gate to the other dimension. Now, we know the Russians have been working on a secret technology for years. Something that could, in theory, emit enough energy to break through the wall between that other world and our own. We’ve also discovered through wire tapping that the new mall in town is actually owned by a Russian organization who bought it through a shadow company. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Russians? In Hawkins?” Steve muttered, utterly confused at the turn this conversation had taken.

“What’s a mall?” El asked, quietly. He smiled at her and made a mental note to talk to her about it later.

Steve returned his attention to the two men and asked the important question. “What does that have to do with me?”

“There seems to be a correlation between the elevated readings and your irritable temperament.” Brenner supplied, unhelpfully.

Steve looked at Owens, hoping for a simplified translation. “Every time someone tries to access the other dimension, you get.. cranky. Here, I’ll show you.”

The doctor turned, bringing their attention to a nearby monitor. He popped a small tape in the machine next to it, and Steve watched in horror as his own image filled the screen. It’s a video of him, alone in his room. He was pacing and yelling, though they couldn’t hear what he was saying. He repeatedly banged on the door. Steve would have thought it was an old video, from when they first got here, if not for the scars that could be seen clearly on his bare back. There were also black lines running up and down his body like veins, shifting and moving under his skin. Steve had absolutely no memory of this. After a few minutes, two orderlies arrived. As the on-screen Steve threw the first punch at them, Owens paused the video.

“Lock me up. Now.” Steve said, immediately and without hesitation.

“No!” Eleven cried.

He understood why she was defending him, appreciated it even, but this wasn’t up for debate, not after what he just saw. “I could hurt you. I won’t risk that.”

Steve wasn't taken back to his own room like he assumed he would be. Instead, he was escorted to a much smaller room with a bare tile floor and a solid metal door. There was no bed, just walls and a floor. Brenner assured him as he locked him inside, that they would do everything they could to figure out how to help him. He doesn’t know if he believes that, but he doesn't have any other choice.

Timing was a funny thing, Steve thought as he stared at the ceiling from his seat on the hard floor. No more than a few hours after being locked inside the room, he started to feel it happen. Like someone was whispering in his mind, he could feel a presence there. Something that didn’t belong, something that wasn’t himself. His arms broke out in goosebumps, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

He got up, knocking on the room’s door, praying someone was around to hear him. He peered through the small glass window until a face swam into view. Owens.

“Something’s happening.” He shouted through the door.

Steve didn’t like the answering look he received from the man.

“I know. We’re handling it.” Owens said, after a long pause.

“What do you mean?”

“Listen, Steve, I'm sorry but I can’t tell you.”

“What, why?”

“One of the things we’ve learned through all this, is that entities from that other dimension are connected. It’s called a hive mind, and if you’re contaminated with it, then you might unwittingly give our plans away.”

Steve felt the blood drain from his face. It was a terrifying thought, that he might be controlled by the same force that directed those creatures.

“You really have no idea how to get it out of me?”

Owens' lips fell into a thin line, expression pained. He was definitely holding something back.

“You do have an idea. Tell me” Steve begged.

The doctor shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

Steve groaned. “Staying like this is too dangerous, you saw that tape!”

“It could kill you.”

“You’ll have to kill me anyway if we don’t fix this.” Steve said, knowing with absolute certainty that he was right. Confirmed by the fact that Owens didn’t argue.

“This thing, it doesn’t like the heat. I think maybe we could burn it out of you. It’s like a virus and you're the host. If we make the environment less hospitable, it would be forced to leave or die.”

“Do it.”

For better or worse, Steve doesn’t remember a whole lot of what happened after that. They forced heat in through the vents of the room. He remembered beginning to sweat, and getting increasingly angry. He started losing chunks of time, little by little, before finally slipping away completely.

This time when Steve wakes in the infirmary, there's another bed set up on the other side of the room. He felt severely dehydrated but wasn’t really in any pain, thankfully. The relief for his own situation dissolved quickly, as he realized the figure lying in the other bed was Eleven.

Steve yanked the IV out of his arm and swung his legs off the bed in one fluid motion. He was a little wobbly on his feet, but managed to make it to her side without falling over. There was a chair nearby and he sank into it gratefully, ready to sit there all day holding her hand until she woke up.

After a while, he started to talk softly to her as she slept. Nothing too important, just memories of growing up, stories about school friends, basketball games, field trips, etc. He rambled on, needing to fill the silence with something so he didn’t go crazy with worry.

He was so focused on recounting a particularly fond memory of a certain dark curly-haired classmate, that he almost missed it when her eyes finally blinked open.

“Who’s Eddie?” She asked, voice hoarse.

Steve laughed wetly, bending down to hug her.

“Thank god you’re awake. I was so worried. What happened? The last thing I remember is being locked in that room.”

“Papa took me to that place.”

“The mall?”

“Yes. It was pretty on the outside but I did not like the elevator. Papa said the people there opened a gate and I had to close it.”

Oh god, he couldn’t believe Brenner took her to that place while he’d been locked away. Anything could have happened to her. “Sweetie, you can’t keep doing this. One of these times it’s going to be too much. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I had to. I thought it would help you.”

“El..” He didn’t like her putting herself in danger for him. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t worth it, but she wouldn’t let him.

“And I have been seeing a new creature. There's only one but it is huge. Like a giant spider made of black smoke. I could not let something like that out.”

He understood that she felt like she had to help, but he’d had about enough of these people letting one little girl carry the weight of the world on her shoulders alone. “You should have let them solve their own problems for once. You were outside, you could have run while they were busy and gotten away again.”

“Not without you” She disagreed.

“It might have been your only chance.”

“No. We will find a way, together. I know it.”

Chapter 5

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ao3 #steve harrington/eddie munson #life is a game #steve x eddie #Canon is just a crazy game of D&D #alternating pov #Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson are cousins #Steve Harrington and Eleven taking care of eachother

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sucrosette · 4 months

Text

★— ⋆｡˚ [Things Missed]

For Day 26 of Carry on Countdown 23, Angst @carryon-countdown

Basil's finally ready to talk about the accident and Simon's there to listen, of course he is, he's not about to walk away.

Rated T for themes, language, & trauma talk.

This is part four of the Nurse/Lawyer AU. Just one more to go - I hope you enjoy. 🖤 [Part 1][Part 2][Part 3]

⋆｡˚ BAZ

Some days, I really miss the hours spent feeling my fingers stretched over the neck of my violin, plucking swiftly over the strings. I miss the feeling of the bowstrings reverberating noise under my strokes, the effortful, emotive playing that pushed me to sweat with effort. I even miss sitting my chin over the chinrest and just holding position in anticipation of playing.

I can still play, beautifully even, but I’m not the soloist I once was. I might have been playing sonatas in music halls across all of Europe at one point. I was good enough, I was more than good enough. I can’t do that now.

I usually manage ten to fifteen minutes before my bow hand starts shaking and my neck’s screaming for relief. Oh, there are workarounds, sure. I’ve tried the extended neck braces that eliminate the need for the chin rest. I’ve used the mobility bows that have the wrist straps, removing the need for my grip entirely. It’s just not the same though.

I had fifteen years of playing before the accident happened. It was a lifetime of habits I had needed to unlearn and repackage and… it’s not that I couldn’t have gotten to my old skill level with enough time, enough practice, but… I started to hate playing. I don’t want to hate playing, but every time I’d fuck up a simple chord progression or hit a note wrong or fumble due to relearning, that feeling would surge up inside of me. My body still wanted to play the way it knew best, and I still wanted to let it, and every time that urge clashed with the need to relearn it would put me back a whole day, sometimes more.

It hit a point where even just thinking about practicing would make me nauseous and angry, so I just stopped. I don’t want to hate playing. I love my violin. I focused on my physical therapy instead. I went to therapy. I got to the point where I am now and I changed course.

I switched to law school.

I cried a week over the decision and I had to speedrun undergrad but overall I’m better for it. I don’t hate my grandfather’s violin every time I look at it. I don’t feel frustrated just existing in a room with it. I don’t get jealous of other violinists who play half as well as I do for having just the slightest mobility advantage over me.

I can hold my bow again, position my violin and play my heart out for a full ten minutes without dropping anything or shaking and botching my play. I might not be able to do some of the more complicated pieces I once did, but what I can play, I play perfectly, just the way I remember, just the way I like. For ten whole minutes, it’s like I’m no different than I ever was, and I find that beauty I make in music and let my violin sing for me. She’s my oldest friend. I can’t hate her.

When Simon first hears me play, it’s a bit of an accident. I don’t really play for people anymore, since I can’t play long and sometimes I have to conclude a piece early when I start to feel my body react, so of course it’s a bit of an accident. It’s just my sisters I play for when I play for people now. Otherwise, it’s just me. I play alone and let myself have my memories of what once was and I put her down to reminisce another day. We share a peaceful relationship, an old friendship, but it’s not something I feel most people particularly need to witness. I aim to play alone.

It’s not that Simon doesn’t know I still play, he does, I’ve told him. Besides, she’s seen the violin, she’s seen me rosin the bow and tune my instrument. She got me a custom rosin case for it for my birthday, the very first we’d spent together— Simon is more than aware that I still play.

it just feels intimate in a way I haven’t quite been ready to share. Fifty-fifty odds I’ll cry at the end, or even halfway through. I like Simon seeing me strong, confident, and maybe a little cocky. I’ve been vulnerable, of course, I met him freshly stabbed and all, but this is a different thing.

So it’s a bit of an accident. Simon's been stateside for a friend’s wedding— she’d been her best mate in school— and I’m not expecting him home that day, let alone these ten minutes of the day I’ve chosen to play. I could've gone to the wedding with him, but I thought maybe meeting someone the week of their wedding might be a bit presumptive of me, especially with our relationship being fairly recent. Besides, the caseload at work’s been busy and I’d’ve had to fly separately, Simon's invested in his tickets an era ago and I don’t particularly want to fly over the Atlantic alone. I’ve offered to take Penny and her husband-to-be on a cruise together at some later date and we can get to know each other then, when they’re not so busy with pre-wedding and during-wedding and post-wedding.

Simon tumbles through the door about two minutes after I’ve started but I don’t hear him. He’s still at the door when I finish. Thirteen minutes later. I can feel my hand aching a little but my neck’s doing alright, so I’ll take that as a good day. I blink over at Simon, realizing he’s really there as I carefully settle my violin back into her stand.

“You play beautifully,” Simon says as she closes the door, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

I blink back the way ears in my eyes. It takes me a minute to find my words, but I shake my head to tell him that he hadn’t. I find my confidence and breath and ultimately find it’s not uncomfortable for me to have Simon seeing me play. That’s a relief. Unsurprising, ultimately, but no less a relief. “You’re early?”

“Ah, yeah,” Simon answers as she kicks off her shoes. I’m already moving to help with his bags while he explains, “Pen’s already on honeymoon and originally I’d wanted to stay over to see some sights but I just missed you so I checked to see if I could catch an earlier flight and here I am.” She does a silly little wave of her hands and it makes me impossibly bloody fond.

“You missed me that much?” There’s a touch of teasing there and Simon punches my arm for it, but he doesn’t use any strength to do it, and just sort of scrunches his nose in annoyance.

“Of bloody course I did, you prick. It’s been a whole week already…”

I hum as I follow Simon to our room, helping him unpack when we get there. I pause to nudge his side and when he turns my way I catch him in a kiss. “I missed you too.”

It’s an easy admission. “Of course you did,” Simon says it like it’s obvious.

it is obvious.

We work through unpacking him in relative silence, a companionable quiet that tells me both how tired he is and how happy he is just to be home. I’ll ask him all about everything after he’s gotten some sleep in him, reset properly from the jetlag over some food. I’m just as happy to have Simon home again too. I missed existing with her the last week.

“I’ll let you hear me play again,” I say apropos of nothing, except I can still hear those words in my head. You play beautifully.

I know I do. Or I knew I did.

The declaration stops Simon midway from tossing his dirty wash in our hamper, but only for a moment. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, whenever I play next.” It’ll be tomorrow. I play almost every day, so long as it’s not a snow day.

“I’d like that,” He answers with a soft smile, “I’d like it a lot.”

I love this about Simon. He’s just so bloody understanding. I don’t understand how he doesn’t press or complicate or assume anything. We just finish getting through his unpacking and collapse into our bed and cuddle close.

I think he’s fallen asleep already when his voice catches me off guard, but maybe I’d been the one closer to sleep. “Are you gonna tell me about it?”

“Not tonight,” I know exactly what he means without asking, “But soon, probably. After you tell me all about how the wedding went.”

Simon hums and snuggles in closer and I melt around him, letting myself relax with him, letting myself feel how much I missed him. I can feel Simon melting in my arms too. I’m too tired for anything else, he’s too tired for anything else, and it’s so bloody easy for us to fall asleep like that, tangled up in one another.

⋆｡˚ SIMON

He doesn’t tell me the next morning, not after all the talking I can manage on Pen’s ceremony and dress and everything. It’s a lazy morning. He called in to work from home (“No court days?” “No court days.”) and we slept in and stayed in bed hours longer and I still had three whole more days off work. I’m not in any rush to find out, I’m just happy I’ve gotten to hear him play now.

I ramble on and on about the States and everything that I’d missed about home and weird little language differences and all the things Pen had gone on about herself during our downtime. I think Baz might know her better than he thinks with how much I talk about her, but I’m not mad he didn’t come with me. I just missed him.

I don’t ask. I don’t need to ask. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.

I’m happy to linger in lazy mornings like this forever, if he’ll be here with me for them.

⋆｡˚ BAZ

I keep thinking I’m going to tell her, and then I don’t. I keep thinking I should bring it up, but then I don’t. It’s just such a bloody happy day and I’m such a greedy, selfish sap. I want to keep it a happy day. We deserve more happy, lazy days.

I do play my violin for him, just like I’d said I would. I only just make it through about eight minutes today, but Simon smiles so beautifully for such a simple piece.

I’m going to tell him, I know it, just not today. Today I want to keep his smile just like it was when he woke up, refreshed and comfortable after a week out of our bed. I want to keep her just like this forever.

⋆｡˚ SIMON

It’s about two weeks later when Basil wakes up in a cold sweat next to me. It’s not the first time I’ve witnessed his night terrors, we’ve lived together far too long by now for me not to be at least a little familiar with them, but normally he goes through the motions quickly enough that I barely have time to comfort at all. This time must’ve been particularly visceral. I sit up beside him and he still hasn’t budged an inch, except to curl in on himself. I touch carefully, brushing my fingers through his thick, dark hair, brushing his bangs aside so they don’t stick to his sweat-slick skin and hum.

I hum whatever he’d played me last. Something by Bach, I think, but I’m not good at classical music. I am learning, a little, but I still can’t tell Beethoven from the Greatest Showman and apparently the latter is a musical, not a classical composition. I’m learning. Baz smiles whenever I get something right.

He unwinds enough to roll himself over and into my arms and I wrap him up like I’m a security blanket made just for him.

“Bloody nightmares…” His voice comes out in rasp, dry and angry, but I don’t push, I just hold him like that until he stops shaking, until his breathing settles out against my chest.

I glance at the clock. Twelve more hours till work. I can nap after this all settles if I need more sleep. I have time. “Think you can sleep again?” I ask it as gently as I can manage.

Baz shakes his head against my chest, but it’s alright, I just keep humming while he sinks deeper into my arms and the tangle of blankets around us. If there was less time, I’d even call out, but there’s plenty of time.

“I think I want to talk about it.”

⋆｡˚ BAZ

I’ve surprised him, I can tell. His mouth is doing that little ‘oh’ thing that she only does when she’s caught off guard. Maybe that’s fair, I haven’t talked about for long enough that maybe she was never truly expecting me to, but I have wanted to.

⋆｡˚ SIMON

He presses a kiss to the hollow of my throat and it brings me back to my senses enough to encourage him to keep going. “If you’re ready.”

Basil hums again and nods along, “I’m ready.”

I press a kiss to his temple and wait. I have time. I can always wait where Baz is concerned, but he doesn’t make me wait long. It spills out in chunks, but I fill in the blanks well enough. Trauma’s like that, I know, sometimes memories just don’t come back clean.

⋆｡˚ BAZ

I was twenty when it happened. It was winter break and I was driving back home for the holidays. The road had been slick from the storm but it was only a four hour drive, a little longer if I went easy, and I always go easy when I need to. So I’m headed home and thinking about what to get my sisters in the meanwhile and not at all worried about the process of getting there.

Of course, it was never me I had to worry about. A truck twice the size of my little Beetle comes hurtling down the opposite side of the road at a good twice my speed. It must’ve started hydroplaning at the exact right moment to cause him to swerve right into me.

There’s no time to react, no time to brake or swerve or anything at all.

There’s only the truck’s blinding headlights on a collision course straight for me.

I can still feel the hear the sound of the metal crunching together in front of me. I can still feel the pressure of the airbag going off against my face, against my hands. The way my arm had hit the center dash and turned blue almost immediately. The whiplash from my head flinging back so suddenly, the wrongness in my neck.

Simon’s petting through my hair as he listens to me, taking everything in, kissing my forehead again, and then pulling back enough to pull my hands up to kiss them too. She’s patient through it all and it’s not until the lull in my story that I realize I’ve been crying. Just a little. Just quietly while I go through it.

I lose myself in the realization for a moment, thoughts dissipating into nothing. I’m not sure where I was in the story, or where to pick up, it’s just all sort of a blur anyway. I let myself have my tears about and Simon, my sweet Simon, kisses my tears away and holds me closer through it.

“Is that what your nightmares are about?” Simon asks when my tears start to slow and I’ve worked myself further out of that ball of stress.

“No,” I answer, and it feels a bit silly, but also not at all. “My nightmares are… they’re about the first time I picked up my grandfather’s violin, after I’d supposedly healed enough to try again, and I dropped it.”

⋆｡˚ SIMON

Baz chokes when he confesses it, loses his voice halfway through the word dropped, but his mouth still forms the word it. My skill in lipreading fills in that blank too. “You don’t have to say more if you don’t want to, you know. It’s okay to be done talking.”

He hums low and shifts our hold so he’s more holding me now, wrapping his legs around mine and practically clinging. I don’t bother to resist. I don’t mind comforting him like this either. It’s plenty comfortable in Baz’s arms too.

“I don’t think there’s much else to say,” Baz breathes out when he finds his voice again, “If there is I can’t recall right now.”

I nuzzle his chest and tangle us up that much more thoroughly. “It’s alright, love… if you want to talk more later, I’m always here for you, alright?”

“Alright.”

“I love you.”

⋆｡˚ BAZ

Simon quiets in my arms after that and I can feel my exhaustion creeping up again. I press a kiss to her temple and let my thoughts drift away from my nightmares, from my spotty memories, from the little Volvo I had once loved so much. I suppose it saved my life that day, gave it’s own for me. If cars have souls, I hope it's thriving somewhere.

I let myself drift to thoughts of Simon, of our life. Of the time we’ve had together so far, of the time we’re going to have together. I think of his soft hair and softer marshmallow scent. I thought it was a perfume or cologne at first, but no. That’s just Simon, sugary sweet.

“Hey, Simon?”

She murmurs her own soft, unintelligible acknowledgment against my chest and I can tell from the weight of him that she’s drifting back off already.

“Thank you,” I say into the mess of her hair and she makes a happy little noise. Her own of course, anytime, always, without the mess of words. She makes me so bloody soft, so bloody comfortable. “I love you too.”

Simon’s little noise repeats itself and I can feel a smile crack my lips, just a little bit even after all the emotions thinking about the accident can give me.

“Rest well, love,” my words fall soft and Simon’s already gone, and I think I can manage the same. I think, probably, without dreaming terrible things all over again.

#Carry On Countdown #COC 2023 #baz pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #carry on fanfiction #my writing #there's more of this to be posted #Bigender Nurse Simon Snow (He/She)#Lawyer Baz Pitch #soft snowbaz #emotional hurt/comfort #tw: car accident #alternating pov

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