#good thing about last night is that i found out there's a sleep timer on spot of fai | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

literaila · 11 months

Text

still here

tasm!peter x reader

summary: there’s an ache in me, put there by the ache in you

(for @elysian-chaos)

warnings: angst, fluff, feeling unworthy, feeling useless, you know, seperation

a/n: ‘tis the damn season is the best song ever. dont argue

there's this little thing called stress baking.

typically, stress baking is referred to as coping by making something delicious to scavenge on, instead of dwelling on the feelings scavenging you. and typically, it's done with a certain type of elegance--one that is made up of chaos. completely insane, yet completely in control. it's a messy dance, but perfectly choreographed.

stress baking is a very reviving task. filling up the house with muffins and pies is not only good for distracting yourself, but also for making friends when you run out of room. or smiling at the cashier every time you have to go to the store for ingredients.

it's something you've practiced for years. something you've become somewhat addicted to.

but then there's baking while stressed. which, you swear, hadn't been your intention.

brownies from a box were supposed to be easy. they were notoriously easy. a couple of eggs, some oil, and some water. the hardest part of your job was mixing, but you'd done it so many times that you zoned out while doing all of it.

box brownies were supposed to be non-stress and quick. but when you burn the brownies and batter rises over the top of your glass pan, and the oven is dirty, and the apartment smells like burnt batter and oven cleaner--well, you have to reread the directions.

you're a good baker. you've been making cookies and cakes for parties for years. you pride yourself on not needing measuring cups because you can eye a recipe by the gram.

not that these brownies would agree.

and it's already five-forty-five. peter is going to be home in the next fifteen minutes and this was supposed to be a treat. something good.

"surprise! i ruined our oven, and now we're going to have to spend the next few nights at your aunt's house in your twin-sized bed until the smell of death goes away!" doesn't typically bring out any smiles.

and peter's been stressed lately, and you've been stressed about him.

and now you're making brownies from scratch without butter--because you used it all on the last batch, oops--and the number of candles you've lit is a sure fire hazard.

but if peter would just smile at you, pull you in by your waist and laugh while he kissed you with a chocolate mouth, it would all be fine.

if there wasn't so much riding on this one (two) pan(s) of brownies. like being able to sleep comfortably tonight.

you turned the oven down, found a new pan--threw the other one out because it was nothing but a source of disappointment--and cleaned the oven just enough to not draw any suspicions. but you could still feel the failure lurking.

peter was going to come home to a chaotic house, and it was your fault.

so you scrubbed at the counters. fixed the stack of bills on the table so that you couldn't see any of the stamps, folded the blankets, and even swept the kitchen floor.

still, you knew peter would know. because he always knows. and maybe that was why he was acting so weird lately--maybe that's why you were acting so weird.

the door opened when the timer on the oven went off.

you'd wanted to watch peter walk through the door--so you could gauge how tired he was, how miserable--but maybe it was better not to know. to let him put on a mask while your back was still turned.

"hey, baby," he said, as you were pulling the brownies out of the oven, setting his house keys on the counter and sighing. "i'm home."

you peeked over your shoulder, giving him a hint of a smile--the same type he was giving you. "hey, honey," you said back, "you're home."

peter walked around the island to stand right behind you, kissing the back of your head and stealing a look over to the stovetop. he clears his throat. "brownies?"

you shrug. "thought you might like something sweet when you got home."

you take off the oven mitt, not really wanting to look at him--maybe because you're scared of what you'll see, or maybe just because you can already feel his eyes tearing down your skin.

but you can feel his breath on your neck as he chuckles. his exhaustion as he leans into your back.

"i've already got you, though," he whispers one peck at the edge of your jaw, another by your ear.

you snort and pull away, turning so you can look at him. and then you pretend to throw up.

he laughs and pokes your forehead.

you're not looking at him and he's not looking at you.

you turn back to the brownies.

"did you drop something in the oven?" peter asks, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

"no," you answer, a bit too defensive.

"sure?"

"am i sure that i didn't burn something in the oven, peter? yes."

there's a beat. "...cause it smells like it."

you headbutt him. "you smell like it. go shower. you can't eat these yet."

"yes, ma'am," peter takes a step back, and you look at him again. you can see the question in his eyes, and see your own reflecting the same question.

what are you hiding?

"we have some ice cream, too."

peter moans, his head back. you roll your eyes at him.

and you start cutting the brownies, worries, and chocolate chips sticking to the knife, listening to peter's footsteps, feeling his presence sticking to you like sugar, sticky and rich, his eyes keeping you on edge.

you know you shouldn't feel stupid--peter doesn't actually know what happened, or care--but you do. because he knows, and because even from the split second you looked at him, you could see the strain on his skin, the pressure weighing him down, dragging his feet across the floor.

you feel stupid just because you don't know what to do. so before he can close the door, you turn around. choosing reaction instead of pretending.

"peter?"

he pauses, his head whipping towards you. his eyes are as soft and loving as they always are--his attention remains the same, even when his energy doesn't. like he's wasting himself away just to take care of you.

he swallows. "yeah?"

"are you--" you blink, look away, try not to taste burnt brownies. "are you okay? you seem tired. was work… alright?

peter smiles, shaking his head. "just the usual, bub. work and... work. i think i'll go to bed early tonight?"

you raise a brow.

peter clears his throat. "i mean, i think i'll take a nap tonight before i go out."

you nod. "okay."

you both stare at each other for a moment. he's far enough away that it's easier. you don't have to feel his emotions as he processes them. don't have to see them from up close.

you hate yourself for being afraid of him. for being afraid for him.

“d’ya want to join me?” peter asks, whisper slipping from his mouth, smile taunting from his lips. “we can cuddle and eat brownies.”

you lick your lips, shaky smile enough. “you sure? i’ve heard i can be a bit distracting…”

peter’s laugh makes his shoulders shake. “you heard correctly,” he says eyes crinkled, “but i don’t mind.”

you nod. you’re grateful for his ease. the careful reveal of his true face, the peeling of a mask. the admittance that not everything is perfect, no matter how small.

“go shower. i’ll get the sugar.”

peter kisses you on the cheek before he goes.

and at least you got a couple of smiles out of him. at least you can feel his kiss lingering on your skin.

it's not that serious. honestly.

you hardly even think about it. you're not thinking about it.

you're not dwelling on the smell of soft skin and the feeling of calloused hands running up and down your back, the tickle of a breath against your neck.

you're not thinking about it at all.

and if it's been a week--or a week and a half, or two, or three--since you last spoke, or shared the same space with peter, then it's fine.

this is something you've grown used to. something you're supposed to be used to.

peter has obligations.

he has things he needs to fulfill--not just for himself, but for others, for the guilt that you can see rocking his bones all of the time, the shame in his eyes when he comes home a bit too early. he has places that he needs to be, if only because he won't be able to live with himself if he's not there.

but then again, you're not sure how to live when he's not here. especially when the sink breaks.

still, as long as you can feel him pull you into his chest every night, imagine him kissing your forehead before falling asleep, then it's fine.

you're not thinking about any of it because it's fine.

but you miss him. if only momentarily.

he'll come back--you repeat this like a promise, like it's his voice whispering it to you--because he always does.

space is good for the heart, some part of you swears. though you don't think you could think of peter any fonder than you already do.

he comes in too late at night and is already gone when you wake up. he texts you updates--because you've talked about communication before--and tells you that he loves you through sweet little notes he sends during the day.

if the thing he wishes to share about his life is the worm he found in his apple, then you're perfectly happy to listen (read).

it's normal to miss the person you love most in the world.

and it's normal for your boyfriend to disappear for fourteen hours each day, just barely cuddling with you for three hours before he's gone again.

it's normal for you, at least

he’ll come back.

and so, instead of thinking about peter, and wondering when he might notice the frayed edges of your relationship, you make sure that he doesn't have to worry about anything.

you clean up after the two of you, running the dishwasher and cleaning the bathroom, and packing him lunch on days you know he'll be gone for the office. making sure there's always something he can eat in the fridge when he gets home late at night, and texting him to know what he wants from the store.

you make the bed and wash his clothes and hope that maybe it'll keep him from burning out.

you hope that maybe it will keep you distracted enough to not ask him for anything. like love or support or a five-minute conversation.

if taking care of him is the only way to keep him going--the only way to keep yourself going--then you'll do it. peter takes care of you enough.

but even if you're not thinking about it, it's there.

because you've just fallen asleep--which is extremely rare recently, mostly because you like to wait until you hear the window and then slow your breathing until you feel peter crawl into bed with you--and just woke up.

woke up with sweaty skin and a headache. it's night ten and you're getting nightmares again.

it's ridiculous that you can't even last two weeks without peter there. without him kissing you to sleep.

and when you burst out of bed, you almost fall into him--almost scream because you're sharing the bed with someone else.

tears are running down your face. your heart feels split open--like your dreams have revealed something inside it.

but you look over to peter and he's there; he's still here.

so you take a deep breath--chest caving in, body following--and you rest your head in your hands.

if there's anything you want right now, it's for peter to wake up.

it's for him to know all of this.

you want him to appear next to you, leaning over your back like he's going to shelter from the world if that's what you need. rubbing your back and whispering in your ear. you want him in your house and laughing when you break the shower rod again.

you want him to cuddle with you before he leaves, and cross his heart when you scold him while he crawls out the window.

you want him in more than just your memory.

but peter is snoring next to you, and so you sit there in silence until the tears begin to ease.

peter's not supposed to be home.

he works until five, and then takes the subway home--and you're not expecting to see him anyway. he's been shoving his suit into the bottom of his backpack right as you pull it out of the hamper.

so it's not that unusual for you to be laying in bed, shoes and socks kicked across the floor, hands gripping for some stability, and eyes puffy and red.

and it's not that unusual for you to squeak when the window opens, and spider-man's head peeks into your room.

you can feel peter's wide eyes behind the mask.

you're quick to wipe your face, throw on a clumsy smile. "peter," you say, exhaling. "what're you doing here?"

a body crawls into the window, dirt and grime on clothes finger-tips reaching out to you. "what's wrong?" he asks, voice only slightly muffled.

but you take a step back, moving away from him when he lands on the floor, leaving spots for you to vacuum up later.

"what're you doing here?" you repeat, voice a bit harsher, a bit faded.

"i need--" he reaches his hand out toward you again, retreating when you do. "i needed some more web fluid. i don't--" he shakes his head. "what happened?"

"i, um," you wipe traitorous tears away again. "i think there's some more in the closet. i keep moving it when i'm cleaning, sorry."

"you're crying," peter scolds. like you're being ridiculous. like you're not trying to save him the effort it's going to take to fix this irrational piece of you, these lonely broken bits.

you bite your lip and look away.

because although you can't even see his eyes--they are still scolding. they are quick and cruel reminders that you haven't talked to peter in two weeks.

you turn towards your bedside table, pretending to organize the contents on top.

you can hear peter moving.

"what's going on, bub?" he says, soft enough for the words to crawl under your skin. he's taken the mask off. his voice is clear.

"oh, nothing, you know," you pause, shrugging. "just the usual sad movie type of cry..." peter's hand reaches your back and you flip around, almost knocking over your lamp.

"c'mon," he whispers to you, far closer than you'd been expecting.

you try and take a step back, only meeting a dead-end. he's cornered you. "you should go, peter. you were just--"

"this is more important."

you laugh. "some silly tears are more important than a collapsing building?"

"you're more important," peter swears, his eyes so focused on yours, "to me."

you blink and shake your head. gesture back towards the window. "go and save some people. you don't have to help me too."

peter swallows, brows furrowed. "will you tell me what's wrong?"

"i can take care of myself, peter. you don't need to worry about it."

"well, i'm going to."

you roll your eyes. and then you break free of his hold, moving away from the table, from the cage he's built around you. "move along, spider-man."

peter doesn't move any closer, but his limbs are tense. his face is concerned and hurt--you try and shield that out.

"i'm not leaving you when you're crying."

"i'm not crying anymore."

peter scowls. "stop deflecting."

you take a deep breath, throat dry and aching. "i'm not--" you clear your throat, shaking your head and looking away from him. "i'm fine, peter. but some people actually need you. go and save the day," you tell him. "i'll still be here when you come back."

and you are.

you're sitting on the couch, staring at photos peter took on the wall, wondering how to explain any of it.

how to explain yourself without digging the two of you any further in this hole.

you've been trying to prove just how little you need peter--just how useful you could be--and by doing so, you've put yourself in this situation.

because you do need him. you just hadn't wanted peter to know that.

so you're sitting on the couch, trying not to flinch every time the air conditioning comes on, or there's a footstep from the apartment above you. you're waiting for peter to climb in through the window, waiting to see how exhausted he is before he has to deal with you.

and you've bitten your lip raw. completely eliminated any evidence of fingernails you once had.

your heart stutters with every minute that comes by.

and when you finally hear peter hop in from the fire escape, your heart stops completely.

you wonder if he's going to change before he comes and finds you. before the inevitable happens, and you give him another reason to work so late.

your restlessness must be audible because it only takes peter forty seconds before walking into the living room. he's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.

he's wearing a frown like a well-tailored suit. known and made for him.

you're trying not to frown back.

"hey," you say, putting on a smile, voice flighty and an octave too high. "everything okay?"

"no one got hurt," peter says, the antonym to your tone.

"good."

apparently, your tight-lipped smile isn't enough to ease the tension in the room.

"are you ready to talk?" peter asks, slowly stepping toward you, just barely meeting your eyes.

you'd scrubbed your face after he left. sobbed in the shower as you washed away any of the shame you hadn't meant for him to see. you'd made sure that your eyes weren't puffy, and your eyelashes were dry before he'd got home.

so when peter scans your face--as he's doing now--he shouldn't notice anything unusual.

besides the facade you're putting on.

you clear your throat, eyebrows lifted like you're unconcerned. "there's not much to talk about."

peter's sullen face doesn't move an inch. "why were you crying?"

"i already told you. i watched a sad movie," you wave a hand, "you just came in at the wrong time."

peter sighs. he sits down on the couch next to you, keeping his distance. "don't lie."

you frown. "i'm not lying."

"you've got some pretty obvious tells, you know," peter whispers, giving you a hint of a bittersweet smile. "you don't have to talk to me. but i'd like it if you did. i just want to make sure that you're... okay."

"i'm fine, peter."

he looks away. "and if you're not then we'll figure it out. i just want to know."

"well, you do."

peter opens his mouth, then closes it, shaking his head.

he's sitting three feet away from you, but his hands are clasped together, his legs are opposite of yours, and he can't even look at you.

you can feel it, as you push him away. as you try so desperately to hold him close without touching him.

"okay," peter says, eyes meeting yours again. "i don't want to push you."

no, but he should pull you off of this ledge. should keep you from falling any further than you already have.

you shake your head, laughing. it's not funny.

"what?"

you close your eyes. count to ten. forget how to breathe, or how to speak to the person you love most in this world.

"what?" peter repeats, but softer.

you open your eyes.

and then it all crumbles.

you scoff. "can you stop looking at me like that?" you plead, breaking away, physically distancing yourself from him.

"like what?"

it's his fault, really, for coming home so early in the day.

"like you can't deal with this. like this is exhausting."

the tears sneak up on you, knocking you out before you even notice that they're there.

peter's eyes are wide as he stares at you. "you're not--" he swallows, frantically reaching towards you. "this isn't exhausting--i'm not--" a moment, tears beginning to fall. "what do you--"

you sigh, shaking your head. "you're always gone, and you come home exhausted every night after you think i've fallen asleep, and you only talk to me through text, and even now you just--" you stop, voice breaking. "if you can't do this," you say, softly, "then you should just tell me."

peter is closer than he was a moment ago. "what?"

"i know this is a lot of work, okay? and i know that you're already pushing yourself, so it's fine if i'm too much. if--if loving me is too much."

there's a moment of silence, and you're almost sure that peter has already left.

but then there's a thumb wiping a tear from your cheek. you can't open your eyes, can't face the reality you've been desperately holding off.

"you're not too much."

peter moves closer to you, his leg touching yours, his hands moving so that he can hold you closer.

you couldn't push him away if you tried.

"you're not too much," he repeats, the words sinking into your skin, his breath meeting yours. "i can't believe you would think that."

you half laugh, half sob. peter wipes away those tears too.

"you're the only thing keeping me going," he tells you, kissing your forehead. "i'm sorry i haven't been there. i didn't realize..." he shakes his head.

"you shouldn't have to take care of me as much as you do," you whisper.

peter nudges his head against yours. "hey. you take care of me way more than i take care of you. you clean up after me and stay up with me when i can't sleep. you help fix my suits, and do all of the laundry. and you never complain. you're practically my guardian angel."

"that's all easy."

"not for me," peter says, voice lighter than before.

you shrug.

"but you do all of that cause you love me," he adds, kissing your forehead again. "or, i hope that's why."

"it's the sex."

peter laughs, nuzzling his head into you. "well, at least you're honest. but, it's the same reason that i take care of you. you shouldn't feel... guilty because of that. you're no burden on me."

"no?"

"absolutely not."

you bite your lip. try and believe peter. but honestly, you're most lovesick from how close he's holding you. how you can feel his skin and listen to him speak somewhere that isn't your bed. you're not quite sure that this isn't a dream.

"hey," peter moves his head so you're looking at him. "we suck."

you laugh, leaning your forehead against his.

"i'm sorry it's been so long since we've... anything. it's been a rough couple of weeks."

"for me too. it's not your fault."

"you have to tell me if it's not enough, okay? i don't want you to suffer through it by yourself. if you need to talk to me--even for ten minutes--then you have to let me know."

"okay."

"do you promise?"

you nod against him, nose brushing his cheek. "i promise, peter."

peter smiles, satisfied. he groans, pulling you even closer to him. "i love you, bug. so much."

you can barely hear him because of how tight he's hugging you. it sort of hurts, but mostly heals.

"i know," you say back. but peter probably can't hear you, because you say it right into his shirt.

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @sharkswaters @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

876 notes · View notes

berryhobii · 4 months

Text

Clouds (jhs x reader)

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x black!female!reader

Word Count: 6K+

Warnings: heavy angst, metaphors and illusions of depression, mentions of autism/depression/sociopathic disorders, mentions of the mistreatment of black women in medical situations(bc this very much still happens), overbearing mothers(but she comes from a good place I swear), feelings of being incomplete, feelings of inadequacy, a very bad date, mentions of fetishizing black women, Hoseok being a ray of sunshine, CRYING, mentions of codependency(bc it’s a soulmate au), one kiss but it’s very sweet, lots of rain and sun metaphors

A/N: Hi hi! I’m back with this sobfest of a fic 🥹 I swear I did not mean to make this this sad, it just kind of happened. I rewrote it a bunch of times and finally flowed on his particular idea. I love soulmate au’s, especially the cute ones with a countdown timer but I wanted to try something different. Something not as overt while still keeping the spirit of a soulmate au which is finding your other half. This is also a shoutout to all of the black people who suffer from depression. I know us being depressed isn’t taken as seriously especially to our families. Mental health isn’t taken seriously in black communities altogether and I really hope that will change. I see so many of us breaking generational curses; with our children, our friends, our relationships, and ourselves. I love seeing it. If you’re non black and read this, I hope it gives you some insight as well. To my black and melanated readers, I hope my stories can give you some comfort outside of just BTS. I hope you feel represented, I hope you feel important, and I hope you feel loved. Because you are all of those things🩵🩵much love. Stay safe. Criticism is always appreciated.

Dull. Stagnant. Lifeless.

That’s how you’d describe your world.

Each minute passed slower than the last, the monotony of your days only broken up by the arrival of the night. You didn’t even dream. Sleep was purely a necessity for you; you couldn’t escape to the vividness of a dream because color didn’t exist in your world.

You’ve accepted it. Accepted that you’d simply exist, drifting as another human among the billions of others. There was nothing special about you nor did you have any qualities people desired to interact with you for.

Mundane. Indifferent. Uniform.

That was you. Plain ol’ you.

“Are you okay, baby?” The voice of your mother called from the doorway of your childhood bedroom.

Rain pattered against the window, your gaze following whatever drop you found most interesting. You’d follow it until it disappeared or until it merged with other drops, the combined weight causing it to cascade faster down the glass.

You wished you could be a raindrop. Falling from the sky to nurture the earth then returning upward to form clouds. Then at least, you’d be useful. You could help plants grow, overfill the streaming rivers, bring relief to dry deserts.

Raindrops were so important.

You tore your eyes away from the window, looking at your mother. “I’m fine, mama.”

You could say that but she knew it wasn’t true. She also knew that asking you too many questions only resulted in her own emotional breakdown.

Why was her baby like this? What was wrong with you? Why did you look at her like she was just a stranger?

Swallowing back her tears, she managed a tiny smile. “The food is ready. It’s baked chicken, your favorite.”

Was that your favorite meal? You didn’t even know. Food didn’t matter much to you. It just kept you alive.

“Okay. I’ll be down in a second.” You said before turning back to the window, only to find the rain had let up. A light drizzle.

Your mother didn’t say anything, just backed out of the room, a single tear rolling down her face.

When you were born, the doctor’s considered you kind of a strange child. Not only was your mother’s entire labor pain free but you didn’t cry coming from the womb. You were breathing and all of your senses were completely fine.

You just wouldn’t cry.

You didn’t cry when you were hungry or wet, not even when you fell and hurt yourself. You felt pain but you didn’t cry.

Lots of people chalked it up to you just being a well behaved and calm kid. That should have been a blessing to your parents, right? A kid who didn’t cry or throw tantrums to do regular stuff kids did. Your parents should be so lucky.

But your mother knew something was wrong. That perpetual blank stare you always had, how you never smiled or found any real interest in toys or television, how you kind of just drifted around. You reminded her of a still flower on a rippling pond; so beautiful but unaffected by things around you.

She consulted many doctors on possible reasons for your seeming lack of emotions.

Were you chronically depressed? Did you have a sociopathic disorder? Were you autistic?

Maybe. Perhaps. A possibility.

Nothing was set in stone.

It even hit a point where your parents just completely lost hope. They still loved you the same. They’d just have to accept that you were the way you were.

But then your mother took you to see one final doctor who cleared up every suspicion anyone ever had.

Soulmates.

Less than 0.0001 percent of the population were comprised of these special people. However, there was so little information on this phenomena that affected such a minuscule portion of the population. Did a such thing even exist?

Your father was skeptical. He thought you just had some sort of mental problem and that the doctors were misdiagnosing you. He worked in the medical field and he knew black women were more likely to be mistreated. He believed they just didn’t care.

But your mother believed. What else could she do? She was holding on to the little ray of hope that you could get better.

Soulmates were opposites of one another in a multitude of ways. Sometimes it could be something as simple as height or biological sex, other times it could be complex like gender or religious affiliation.

And in serious cases like yours, it could be something as deep as the very fibers of your being.

You were incomplete without your soulmate. Only they could shine the light and illuminate the darkness that surrounded you.

The only problem is there was really no identifying factors that could help find your soulmate. No marks, no red string, nothing.

And with so many people all over the world, the chance of you finding them was almost nonexistent.

But your mother wouldn’t give up. She’d fix you.

“He’s a very nice boy. His mother says he’s upbeat and friendly too. He might be the one.” Your mother gushed as she removed another flexi-rod from your hair, her oiled fingers working carefully to unravel each one.

You didn’t say anything, staring ahead into the mirror in front of you. You had become used to seeing your made up face; foundation, concealer, highlight and whatever color eyeshadow matched the outfit she chose for you. You didn’t really care but your mother insisted you wear some to impress your date.

That’s why she was doing all of these preparations; to send you on yet another date in hopes of finding your soulmate.

Now that your mother knew the cause of your “ailment”, she was working overtime to find whoever they were. So far, you’ve met 41 people, male and female, multiple ethnicities, and all from different backgrounds. The only thing that tied them together was that each other them were happy and bright people. Each of them were social and loved by many. That had to be who your soulmate was, right?

All of these people and meetings and you’ve yet to find your other half. Your mother had been expanding her social circle in search of the person who would “heal” you; children of close friends, children of friends of close friends, even random people she’d overhear talking about their own children. She was on a mission and nothing would stand in her way.

Your mother completed the final touches on your hair, her smile wide.

“Look at how beautiful you are.”

She told you that often, ever since you were a little girl. Words of affirmation recited to you in an attempt to build your self confidence.

You guessed it must be true since she said it everyday.

You didn’t say anything again, her smile faltering just a tad but quickly widening again. She retrieved a simple necklace off the vanity, clasping it around your neck.

“There. Perfect.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and your mother sprang into action.

“He’s here! Come come.” She beckoned you with a frantic hand.

You stood from the chair, following her out of the room and to the living room. She handed you your purse and draped a shawl over your shoulders.

“Okay, you’re ready. Remember your manners and smile, okay?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

She pulled you into a hug, squeezing you tightly as she always did. Affection wasn’t really something you minded nor did you reciprocate it. Your parents hugged you all the time but you never really felt anything. You understood it was how people showed affection and love, the internet told you that.

You just didn’t get it. You didn’t feel it.

But you hugged her back anyway.

You stood there in her embrace for 23 seconds longer before she released you. Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb running across the apple of it.

Her smile was gentle but it didn’t reach her eyes, that glossy sheen always misting her eyes. Your mother cried a lot but never in front of you. You could sometimes hear her or find her wiping away tears if you’d enter the room, that smile always pulling at her lips acting as if nothing was wrong.

It confused you. It was obvious she was cried so why did she hide it?

Oh well.

“Have fun, okay?”

Opening the door, you found date number 42 standing there. He was dressed sharply in a crisp suit, hair gelled back out of his face, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

His mouth dropped when he saw you, eyes traveling from your feet to the top of your head.

“Wow.” He breathed out. “You look stunning.”

Remembering your manners, you answered, “Thank you.”

Clearing his throat, he held out the flowers to you. “These are for you.”

You took the bouquet from him then you remembered something your mother drilled into you.

“Always smile when someone gives you flowers. It means you appreciate them.”

Wasn’t saying thank you the appreciation?

Still, you put a smile on your face. A practiced smile that you’d rehearse in the mirror under your mother’s watch.

“They are lovely. Thank you.” You tried to add some inflection to your voice to sound grateful but it just came out robotic.

If number 42 noticed, he didn’t say anything, simply taking your thank you for what it was.

Holding out his arm, he asked, “ready to go? Our reservation is soon.”

Nodding, you placed your hand on his arm and let him escort you out of the door and down to his car. He opened the door for you, helping you inside and even making sure you put on your seatbelt before closing your door. He rounded to the driver’s seat and got in, buckling himself in and starting the car before pulling off.

“I hope you like seafood. The restaurant we’re going to has the best seafood pasta.”

You didn’t dislike it. Food was food to you. It was simply sustenance.

You stared out of the window as he began rambling about his favorite restaurants. You blankly watched the scenery pass, not really taking note of anything. Just watching.

Then you saw a raindrop hit your window, followed by a few more.

You heard your date make a noise of concern. “I didn’t think it would rain. Hopefully it’s only a drizzle. I hate when it rains. Don’t you?”

“No.”

He glanced over at you, a little chuckle coming from him. “Ah you’re one of the ones who like rain, huh? Why? It’s cold and wet and makes you sick.”

You continued to watch the drops patter against the window.

Yes rain was cold. It passes through a thin layer of cold air before falling to the earth. Yes rain was wet. It was water.

But rain was also….

“Rain is important.”

He snorted. “I guess so. It’s just inconvenient in cities.”

Inconvenient, huh?

You didn’t say anything in response to him, silence engulfing the inside of the car.

He coughed to break the air before reaching for the radio. A low pop song began playing through the speakers, not doing anything to alleviate the awkwardness but doing everything to prevent any more conversation.

Thankfully(for him), you arrived at the restaurant just minutes after. The rain was still at a very light drizzle which was good since he didn’t bring an umbrella.

He opened your door, holding out his arm to help you out.

The restaurant was nice on the inside. It reminded you a lot of the places your parents would take you for birthdays or graduations.

Clean. Fancy. Stuffy.

You both approached the hostess that sat behind a podium. She greeted you both with a bright smile.

“Welcome to Rêverie. Do you have a reservation?”

“I do. Two under Lee Jihyun.”

Oh yeah. That was his name.

She scrolled through her tablet. “Ah yes. Right this way.”

She led you through tables filled with other patrons. For a Thursday night, this place certainly was busy.

Jihyun pulled out your chair and you thanked him before sitting down.

“Your waiter will be with you shortly.” The hostess said, bowing and then walking away.

After removing his suit jacket and draping it over the back of his chair, he turned to face you.

“So, y/n. Tell me about yourself.”

That was an open statement. You didn’t know what to say.

So you questioned, “what do you want to know?”

He tapped his chin in faux thought, a little inquiring smirk on his face.

“Hmm….what’s your favorite food?”

“I don’t have one.”

His smile dropped a little but he remained positive. Letting out an awkward chuckle, he ran a hand through his hair.

“Okay. What’s your favorite color?”

“I don’t have one.”

You saw the little twitch in his brow. Your father did that sometimes when he was really focused on his work. He told you it was because he was annoyed or frustrated with something.

Was Jihyun annoyed or frustrated with you?

“Then where are you from?”

“Chicago.”

He exhaled some air through his nose, tilting his head a little. This was getting nowhere.

At that moment, a waiter came to your table with 2 glasses of water and some menus.

“Hello there. I’ll be your waiter today. Can I start you off some drinks?”

Jihyun seemed to perk up at the arrival of the waiter, his smile returning full force.

“Yes we are. I’ll take a glass of your finest red wine.” Then he looked to you. “And for you? A glass of wine?”

You didn’t drink alcohol. Mainly because you just didn’t like it.

“No. I’ll keep my water. Thank you.”

The waiter nodded. “I’ll be right back with those and to take your order.”

Now you two were left alone again. Great.

A silence just as thick and uncomfortable as the one in the car encompassed your table.

Jihyun drummed his fingers on the table, thoughts racing as he tried to think of a conversation topic to get you talking. Then it hit him.

“Your mom set this date up, right? My mom’s been hounding me about settling down. What about you?” He curiously inquired.

He didn’t know? Hmm.

“She’s searching for my soulmate. She said that I’ll be happy if I find them.”

That seemed to spark his interest. “Soulmate?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He tapped his finger again. “So…..how exactly does that work?”

You barely knew fully. The doctor who diagnosed you could only explain so much since soulmates still aren’t very common or explicitly studied.

“I can’t express or feel most emotions, specifically ones of joy or sadness. Whoever my soulmate is is the opposite of me. That’s why my mother set you and I up.”

He let that information soak in. His mother didn’t say anything about this. All she told him was that a friend of hers had a gorgeous daughter. And if he was being honest, he was pretty curious about dating a black woman.

You certainly were beautiful and your poofy hair was interesting looking.

Your personality though? It left a lot to be desired. He was expecting you to be a little sweeter, more responsive to him. You didn’t even react at seeing his super expensive car nor did you say anything about the restaurant. He was putting a lot of money into this date so he was expecting more.

At least you were pretty.

Now as for this soulmate business. It didn’t make a lot of sense to him. Of course he’s heard about soulmates but he thought it was a load of crap.

Then again, you were strange. You were expressionless and lackluster. Your monotone answers showed your lack of interest and you’ve only smiled once since he met you.

Maybe you did have a soulmate. No one could be this boring without reason.

Well, your personality didn’t really matter. You weren’t ugly, that’s all he was concerned about.

He snorted, waving a hand around. “You don’t have to worry about that. You have me now. I’m all you need.” He reached a hand over to cup your chin. “As long as you listen to me and stay pretty, it’ll be fine.”

Listen? Stay pretty? You already did that.

Your objective wasn’t either of those things. It was to find your soulmate; the person who was your other half.

The person who would help you.

“You’re not my soulmate. What could you offer me?”

His eyebrow twitched again, a forced laugh falling from his lips. He released your chin and leaned back in his chair.

“Ha! What do I have to offer? I have plenty.” He bragged with a huff and a flare of his nostrils.

But what? What could he offer you? Your mother said that only your soulmate could give you what you really needed. This man obviously wasn’t it so what could he give you? Why were you even still here?

“Never leave a date early. It’s rude.”

What was the point? Wasn’t the goal of this date to figure out if he was your soulmate? He wasn’t so why couldn’t you leave? All the lessons from those etiquette classes your mother instructed you to sit through danced around your head.

“You aren’t my soulmate. There’s nothing you could give me.”

That really seemed to piss him off because he was suddenly slamming his hands down on the table. The force caused your water to shake, the liquid rippling in the glass.

“How dare you?! I take you on this fancy date and try to be nice to you and you insult me like this? You should feel grateful I even entertained the thought of meeting you.” He ranted spitefully, his entire face blazing red and veins popping out of his forehead.

Grateful? You should feel grateful? How did you do that?

Other patrons were startled by your date’s sudden outburst, whispers and mutters sounding around the restaurant.

That’s when the hostess appeared at your table.

“Sir, please calm down or I’ll have to ask you to leave.” She attempted to soothe him, holding up her hands as if calming a wild horse.

But your date wasn’t hearing any of it. His anger was too much to contain right now.

He pointed at you. “I only went on a date with you because my mom said you were pretty but she didn’t tell me you were so disrespectful. She also said your mother was desperate to marry you off and that she’s been trying to push you on any person she could.” He bellowed with a hearty and mocking laugh. “Just how many people have you been with already?”

“41. You’re number 42.” You answered simply and that took his irritation from a 100 to a 101.

Letting out a growl of frustration, he stood from the table, grabbing his jacket and practically snatching it on his body.

“You know what? I don’t need this! I have plenty of women lined up for me. I thought dating a black girl would be exciting but you’re seriously a bore. I’m leaving.”

He stomped away from the table, leaving you alone and letting the mind’s of the strangers surrounding you racing.

Just as you were about to get up to leave, he came back to the table, snatching the flowers he gave you earlier from the surface.

“And give me these back!”

Ah. There goes number 42. Your mother would probably get that look on her face again. That misty look in her eyes…..that she’d just cover with a smile and reassure you that she’d find someone else for you.

Again and again. Over and over.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your waiter shuffling back over, a small brown bag in his hands.

“Um, we won’t charge you for the wine since it never reached the table.” He stated nervously, worried that you’d blow up next at his words.

“Okay.”

He then placed the bag on the table. “Please take this red velvet cake. It’s on the house.”

The rain was pouring when you stepped out of the restaurant. The awning outside protected you from the brunt of the downpour but you could still feel the drops hitting your bare legs.

You should call a cab. A cab would take you home.

Home.

As if they had a mind of their own, your feet carried you out into the heavy rain. The harsh drops hurt your skin but you continued.

Cold rain soaked through your clothes and all the way down to your shoes, goosebumps rising across your skin but it didn’t bother you.

Nothing did. Maybe that was your main problem.

The stares of people you walked by didn’t bother you. The chill of the rain didn’t bother you. The pain of your feet in these heels didn’t bother you.

Why? Why were you like this? Why couldn’t you feel anything?

“Because you’re broken.”

That’s right. You were broken. Like a porcelain ballerina on a music box; anyone could see how poised and perfect you were, a true sight to see. Sparkling and beautiful, their expectations were high but when they turned your key…..

No music came out. The inner workings of your soul were rusted and stiff, your heart merely a muscle that pumped blood through your veins, your life just something you lived.

You had no purpose. You didn’t exist for anything. You were just a doll, one that would collect dust in an antique case until the end of time.

Your feet slowed to a stop, the assault of the rain feeling like daggers against your skin. You tilted your head back to stare up into the dark sky.

You wished you could be a raindrop. You just wanted to fall and then go back to the sky.

At least then you wouldn’t be so useless. You wouldn’t make your mother cry. You wouldn’t be a burden.

You wouldn’t be incomplete.

“Hey are you okay?”

Your ears itched so you lifted your hand to scratch at it.

“Why are you out here without an umbrella? It’s pouring.”

Why were your ears so itchy? Did you need to clean them?

“Did the rain come out of nowhere for you too? The forecasts are so unreliable sometimes, huh?”

You didn’t understand. Why was……why…..?

Your head slowly came down from its craned position and your heart did something other than simply beat.

It squeezed.

Something you’ve never felt before jolted through your entire body, so powerful and consuming that your knees buckled. You stumbled forward a little, the grip on the bottom of your heels doing nothing to keep your upright.

“Oh hey! Are you alright?”

Then you were met with warmth. No, something more than that.

Heat. Body scorching and all encompassing heat engulfed your body. It felt like someone had poured gasoline over you and a lit a match.

A hand touched your arm and that heat spread like a hot brand across your skin. You couldn’t even feel the coldness of the rain that soaked your clothes and skin anymore. It was like someone wrapped a warm towel straight out of the dryer around you.

“Hey….”

Slowly, as if this bubble you formed would burst, you leaned your head back to look into a pair of eyes so iridescent and dazzling that you thought you were staring right at a cluster of stars.

Like the sun after rain, a rainbow stretching across the blue sky.

It was him. He had found you.

You two stayed locked in eye contact for a very long moment. The world seemed to fade away, not even the sound of rain or honking cars could bring you back.

Then like a ray of sunshine, he smiled but unlike your mother or other people you’ve met, this smile held no sadness, no pain, no ulterior motives.

It was pure. It was beautiful.

“Have you been waiting long for me? I’m sorry.” He lifted the hand that wasn’t holding the umbrella to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray raindrop.

Then the dam broke and for the first time in your entire life, you did something you never thought you’d be able to do.

You cried.

Loud and heart wrenching, as thunderous and roaring as the storm you two were in. Every emotion you’ve never felt since birth swelled in your chest, traveling up your throat and out of your mouth as you let out wails of sorrow.

Wails of joy. Wails of anguish. Wails of strife. Wails of gratitude.

You cried.

And he held you, shielding you from the rain and holding the broken pieces of you together before you could fall apart again.

His hand stroked your back up and down as he hummed a song to you. “It’s okay. Let it out. I know it’s been hard for you. I’m here now.”

Yes. He was here. He found you. You’d be okay.

The sound of a phone ringing woke you from your haze of sleep. Your head felt fuzzy and your body felt heavy.

Where were you?

Lifting your arm, you felt around the nightstand until you touched the object you were searching for. You turned on your side, bringing your phone to your face, eyes squinting at the brightness.

Mama.

Why was she calling you? Wasn’t she in the next room?

Pressing the answer button, you held the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“y/n! y!n, where are you? My friend just called me and told me you had a falling out with Jihyun. Are you okay? You didn’t even come home. I thought something happened to you.”

Jihyun? Oh yeah, your date. The memories of that awful dinner were starting to come back to you. You couldn’t even call it dinner since you didn’t even eat but whatever.

“Sorry, mom. He left me at the restaurant and it started raining really hard so I….” Your train of thought derailed, more memories of last night flowed into your brain.

Jihyun leaving you. Your walk in the rain. Bumping into someone.

That feeling in your chest….

Your soulmate! You found them. You never went home. You went with them instead.

“y/n? Is everything okay?” Your mother questioned with concern laced in her voice.

You felt something move behind you and you remembered everything.

“Mama, I promise I’m fine. I’ll be home later, okay?”

You couldn’t see the look of confusion on her face but you could feel it was there. “Uh, alright honey. Be careful. I love you.”

You smiled, feeling tears prick your eyes as your heart rapidly pounded in your chest.

“I will. I love you too, mama.”

And you did. You loved her so much. You could feel it.

Just like how you could feel her own tears even after you hung up the phone.

After placing your phone back on the nightstand, you paused and sat in silence for a moment.

So many feelings and thoughts rushed through your body like a rapid stream, rain had fallen and filled the cavern that was your soul, overflowing every empty crevice and nourishing the flora that had been withered and dry. With these new and unfamiliar feelings expanding, it almost hurt.

You were happy that it hurt though because that meant you were feeling.

You could feel now. You were so unexplainably happy.

Turning back to your other side, your eyes met the sleeping form of the person who made all of this possible.

Reaching a hand out, your fingertips grazed over his cheek. You could still so vividly remember how the cheekbone rounded when he graced you with that breathtaking smile. You wanted to see it again. You wanted to learn about what makes him smile, what makes him happy, what makes him sad.

You wanted to understand his feelings.

Your finger traced all across his face; his eyebrows, his nose, his lips, his chin. As if you were trying to memorize each atom of his face.

A part of this felt like a dream, one you were afraid you’d wake up from but if you did, you still think you’d be happy. Happy because at least you had this much. If this was a dream, you wouldn’t mind because this dream would be precious to you.

With another touch of his eyelids, he flinched causing you to do the same. His hand lifted to rub at his face, grumbles and mumbles coming from his lips. You watched as he stretched his body before flopping back down and then his eyes cracked open.

Your breath hitched in your throat, heart going crazy in your chest and another swell of emotions you couldn’t place surging as well.

He blinked sleepily before his eyes finally landed on you. Staring into the brown irises brought that heat back but even stronger this time. You didn’t really understand it but you wanted to.

“Oh, you’re awake? Did you sleep well?” His light voice croaked as he rubbed the drowsiness out of his eyes.

You nodded. “I did. Did you?”

Then he smiled and your heart squeezed.

“Yeah. I did too. For the first time in a while.”

There was a hint of something in his words but you couldn’t place it.

“Do you have a hard time sleeping?”

He looked up at the ceiling, staring as if it held the solution to all of his problems.

“Yeah.”

You felt like he had more to say and you were about to ask a follow up question when the sound of your stomachs growling interrupted.

His smile was bright and his laughter was contagious. “Are you hungry? I can make us some breakfast.”

“That sounds great.”

“I’m Hoseok, by the way.” He said as he placed a fried egg on a plate and then served it to you.

He let you shower first, even letting you wear some of his clothes since the dress you wore last night was still soaked through. You were actually already wearing a large t shirt of his and a pair of boxers that he leant you, both brand new of course. A part of you didn’t even want to shower because you didn’t want him to leave your eyesight. You finally found him and all you wanted to do was admire him and be close to him. He felt exactly the same but he was starving since he didn’t eat dinner last night. And now that you thought about it, neither did you.

Now you were both in his kitchen while he whipped up breakfast.

You didn’t even realize you never asked him his name. Hearing it now flared that heat in your heart again.

Hoseok. It was nice. It fit him.

“I’m y/n.”

He smiled at you again. You really liked seeing him smile.

“That’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

You’ve been hearing that for years, all your life really but hearing him say it, you truly believed it. From his lips, it sounded sincere, like he was looking past just your physical appearance.

He was looking at you. All of you.

“I have a question.” He said as he ate a blueberry.

You hummed in acknowledgment, letting him know he could continue.

“Why were you out in the rain like that?”

Any other time, you wouldn’t have hesitated to give the answer but your words got caught when he asked. Should you even tell him? Would he get upset? Why did you feel so guilty?

He noticed your hesitation and it was like he could see the cogs turning in your head. He didn’t quite understand you yet. What were you experiencing before you met him? What were the effects of your incomplete soulmate bond?

You felt a hand place itself over yours where it rested on the table, your eyes lifting from your half eaten breakfast to meet those sweet eyes.

“You can tell me. I promise I’ll accept whatever you say. I’ll accept you.”

Tears prickled at your waterline but you didn’t let them fall. You felt like if you cried again, you’d never stop.

Taking a deep breath, you admitted, “I was on a date.” When he didn’t say anything, you continued. “My mom would set me up on dates in order to find my soulmate. I was on one with this guy and he left me at the restaurant. I was about to go home but something told me to start walking.”

He listened intently, a little burst of anger firing in his heart at whatever asshole left you by yourself like that. He couldn’t help but feel a little relieved, however. Because if they didn’t leave you, he probably wouldn’t have found you.

“I see. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“I’m not.” You quickly responded, moving your hand so your fingers could entwine with his. A look of surprise crossed his face, his gaze going to your linked hands. His own heart thudded wildly like a stampede.

Then you smiled and what an absolutely wonderful smile it was.

“Then I’m not either.”

You two tucked back into your food in silence, hands still locked on the table.

“I have a question too.”

“Yeah?”

“Why were you out in the rain?”

He made a noise, shrugging his shoulder and finishing off the last of his breakfast. “I couldn’t sleep so I took a walk. It started raining on my way back home. There was a convenience store on my way so I got an umbrella there.” He explained as if it was so simple but something told you it wasn’t.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

What a good question.

“Whenever I try to sleep, I get this overwhelming feeling that keeps me up. It’s like…..I’m always uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” You parroted.

He hummed. “Like whenever I try to sleep, I can’t. It feels like….something was missing.”

“Like what?”

He pondered in thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain it to you. He’s been asked that question before and he could never quite answer. To him, showing emotion came so easily. He could empathize with most; he cried when others did, he rejoiced when he was happy, he got angry when something didn’t go his way. All of it came naturally to him.

But when it was time to shut those feelings down and rest, he couldn’t. He took walks often as a way to both clear his head and try to tire himself out. He slept sometimes but never more than a couple of hours, those feelings always startling him awake again. He slept but he didn’t rest.

Something was keeping him awake. Something was missing. Something that he didn’t have.

His eyes left his empty plate to finally lock on the beauty of you. With you, all of those conflicting feelings calmed down. They settled in his heart, that heavy weight that once constricted him now lifted. Like when you curled up next to a window, a book in your lap and a blanket over your shoulders as a gentle rain fell.

“Peace.”

A soft smile stretched across his face, his eyes holding so many feelings that he’s always been able to express but never truly able to receive. Looking at you now, he knew he could have it all now.

He could have peace. The reason he couldn’t sleep was because there were too many emotions storming around him, leaving him lost in the torrent of his own life. He had friends who loved him, family who supported him, and bonds that could never be broken but even with all of that, he still lacked one thing.

One person.

You.

He rounded his small kitchen island until he was standing next to you, his hand that wasn’t holding yours moving to cup the back of your neck. He leaned down just a little. Your lips were so close, a few centimeters closer and they’d touch. A frenzy of everything was happening in both of your bodies; anticipation, fear, passion, and more things neither of you could make.

His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes, back and forth.

“I’m so glad I found you.” He whispered.

“I’m glad you found me too.”

And just like that, your lips joined. As did your hearts, as did your souls, as did your beings.

Complete.

Like the sun shining through the clouds after a rainy day and the rain returning to cover the sun, you two fit together in a delicate cycle.

One that could never be broken.

The sun. The rain. The earth. The sky. The moon. Red. Purple. Orange. Green.

Blissful. Confusing. Playful.

The colors that made up your world were bright now.

All thanks to your sun ☀️

#bts #bts x black reader #bts fic #bts imagines #hoseok #jung hoseok #hoseok x reader #black representation

54 notes · View notes

wecandoit · 2 years

Text

These are the things I do when I’m utilising my time to the max. I’ll be 100% honest and say that I haven’t been doing these all the time recently, and as a result I’ve been having terrible time management. But at least that proves these tips work for me. I really do think that some of these will work for you too.

🍓Early starts: Note, this is more of a motivation thing rather than a productivity thing. Besides the generally having to wake up early for school/work, I recommend you get early starts even on your days off. Most people would say to wake up and be productive, but it’s totally fine to just lounge around and do nothing, especially when you don’t have major plans for the day. That’s the beauty of waking up early––you can have time for yourself and still get the day’s tasks done. Basically, you have more time to waste (honestly why am I even a studyblr?) Although, be warned, if you choose to lounge around, this could ruin your tone for the whole day. My advice would be to not go too hardcore on the work as soon as you get up, but instead ease yourself into it slowly.

🍓 Hydration: You’ve probably had people drill this into you so many times but as soon as you wake up, drinking at least a full glass of water is essential. After a night’s sleep you’ve had a solid few hours (ideally) of absolutely no water, so you are super-dehydrated. I didn’t realise how thirsty I was in the morning but I started drinking one full glass every morning and it’s definitely refreshing as hell, and gets me in an altogether less drowsy mood

🍓Brush teeth: I hate morning breath and that gross taste in your mouth when you wake up. That is literally the only reason this is on the list. I feel so much more put together once I brush my teeth. Even after lunch or something, whenever your mouth tastes weird, just brush your teeth or even gargle some mouthwash or something. Nobody needs to be stuck at a desk smelling their own stinky mouth for hours on end.

🍓Apps: A lot of people use the 25:5 min Pomodoro timers but I personally like a larger work time frame so don’t really use them. I use 1Focus on my Macbook into which you can add in websites and apps that you want to block while you work. It works a treat, but be aware, you can’t turn it off, just in case you realise you’re going to need to open up a blocked app. [EDIT: I actually found a loophole to this so msg me if u wanna know] I also use Toggl or (recently) Yeolpumta which are more a motivational thing for me. These apps allows you to track your time throughout the day so you can see how much time you’re not utilising. With Yeolpumta you can also join lil study groups and if you’re competitive, use other people’s study times as your motivation. Also, you can find a lot of good compilations of useful apps on online servers or drives. (I’ll have links at the end of this post)

🍓 Study With Me: This one may not work for everyone but I discovered these worked SO WELL for me. Study with me videos can be found on Youtube and you can find a whole range of them, but I prefer the long 1-2 hour ones with breaks and no music. I watch the videos by @elloitsangela and sometimes @Merve on YT and they’re awesome. You can also find ones with background music if you prefer, but I like to listen to my own music or none at all.

🍓Motivation: Majorly links to the last point. I know I know I know that everyone has pretty much worked out that for long-term projects and goals, the key is to understand that staying on task is about discipline not motivation. But as much as you can tell yourself this, it’s almost impossible to stay disciplined when you have no motivation in you–– the two are intrinsically linked.The typical advice is to think of your goals, but motivation for everyone is different, and even really shallow points of motivation, like looking at pretty studyspo on Pinterest might give you that push, especially when you don’t know what exactly you’re working towards.

🍓 Music: While we’re on the topic of music, I think there are situations where music can be helpful and other times when it is just distracting. It really does depend on the work that you’re doing. Generally, people find it very hard to focus with music, when they’re working on understanding concepts, and coming up with logic-based ideas. Less mentally demanding and creative tasks tend to be completed more efficiently with music so if your priority is getting things done fast rather than comprehension, music is great. A cautionary note: I recommend you find songs that don’t make you want to stop what you’re doing and just bop along, as tempting as it can be. Classical, lo-fi, dubstep, EDM or jazz tends to work well for a lot of people.

🍓 Planning: I keep a bullet journal and use it to list out all the tasks I want to get done. However, this may be tedious for some. Alternatives you could use are just a simple notebook in which you jot down the days tasks. Or to-do lists work as well. Other people may find online planners or apps work better for them than physical methods and for those people, I will link a drive below for nice compilation of management apps/sites. A tip for to-do lists is to break big tasks into small tasks and put them on ur list. This especially helps with mental health because big tasks can be overwhelming and you may feel you’re not getting anything done, even when you are.

🍓 Productive incentives: I try to make the way I reward myself as productive as possible by combining the reward with a chore. Lately I’ve been having to do a work around the house, so finding time to relax between studying and chores is hard. I’ve found that by doing my chores while watching a movie, or reading a book, or listening to music/podcasts, I can really utilise my time. That way, chores feel less like chores and more like time off. This is also useful because you feel like you’ve taken a break after doing your chores and can be motivated to get back to study/work.

🍓 Setting: This one is mainly in regard to temperature. Finding the optimal temperature, I’ve found, is pivotal to how productive I am. I usually struggle with focusing a lot when it’s too hot, because I work better at a cooler temperature (Australian summers hit hard). You may find it better to work in a hotter environment, though, and really it’s all down to experience. I suggest having a heater or cooler in the room, or if you work outside of home, find a place with the right heat. And I guess this is a given, but find a study space where you won’t be distracted by the people and things around you.

🍓Google drives (the holy grail): I kid you not, you can find literally any self-study resources on a google drive. Not only self-study but even useful links for time management, productivity, motivation, etc. I find these usually on tumblr, reddit, or from study groups. I’ll include a few resources and links at the end of this post and I’ll upload a separate post with more resources if you think it would be helpful.

🍓 Desk space: I will tell you right now that I cannot, for the life of me, clear my desk space up properly. Like, I just can’t. I always feel like I need my planner, my drink, my caddy, my entire pencil case, sticky notes, and a whole lot more on my desk with me. I know I don’t need any of these, but I can’t seem to put them away, probably because I always clear things away and ended up needing to pull it back out. So what I do to clear my desk space is put away all my books that are from subjects I’m not focusing on. I don’t pack them away or anything, I just get them off my desk. Everything else stays on. Obviously if you can properly clear your desk space, you should do that. But if you’re like me, give this a shot.

🍓 Online study groups: This one is suited for a very specific type of learner, I think, so take it with a grain of salt. There are a whole lot of groups, whether it be a Tumblr chat, a Discord server, a Whatsapp group, that are made by lovely human beings who want to join forces in their work/study life. Finding one that really fits your interests and needs can be extremely helpful and motivational. The members in these group can give advice, keep you accountable and motivate and inspire you to work hard to reach your goals

This is my list so far. I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for a solid six months now so I’m well and truly sure they are my best tips. If you have anything else that you swear by, feel free to add on to this list in reblogs, or message me and I’ll edit the post myself. Obviously, different things work for different people, but as someone who gets really easily distracted and bored, these are all the things I can offer you.

These may be really obvious to some of you, but I also know that they’re not to everyone (because they weren’t to me), so please boost this post any way you can, I’d really appreciate it and I bet others will too :)

Some really helpful apps/links: • Yeolpumta for Apple or Android + an invite to my study group on Yeolpumta • 1Focus (I think this is only for Mac but not too sure) • Toggl Track for Apple or Android/PC • Z-lib in case you’ve been living under a rock: has almost every book ever published (including textbooks) • Project Gutenberg: more free ebooks • Openculture: a bunch of free audiobooks (and not just niche ones) • Librivox: more free audiobooks • PDF Library: literally a library PDFs (books, guides, articles, anything) • OEDb: find online courses in American colleges • Khan Academy: for help with literally any subject (I used it for maths and chem); also offers online courses • Wiley: find open access journal/research articles • Elsevier: more open access journal articles • Medical Study Zone: texts and resources for medical students • Megafolder of textbooks/resources for culture and language studies by @salvadorbonaparte (literally ilysm) • Memrise: language learning that’s not just duolingo • Books and resources about Medieval Europe • Gender/queer studies drive by @genderebels (ilysm) • Guide to learning how to code by @boomeyer • Recovering unsaved drafts from Microsoft Word • Writing essays with half the stress by @wittacism • List of words and synonyms to use in your writing so you can stop being basic • Massive list of literary techniques by @emmastudies • Masterpost of apps and extensions for productivity and self care by @mujistudies

(I’ve got a lot more links to drives for more university level textbooks, movies, animes, comics, music, etc. so if u need, hmu)

814 notes · View notes

autumnalwalker · 3 months

Text

Find The Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @toribookworm22.

My words to find were quiet, dare, & token.

Passing the tag to @andromedaexists, @blind-the-winds, @oh-no-another-idea, and the usual open tag to anyone else who wants it.

You words to find shall be jolt, remote, & toy.

Now, time for Lacuna mixing trans angst with mad science!

Quiet: Empty Names - 21 - Changeling Child

“I don’t want her to worry about me,” she mumbles. “Same for Road.”

“You mean to say that becoming stuck as a faceless imitation of a human being all night is not cause for concern?”

“It’s fine!” Lacuna snaps defensively and then shrinks back from her own raised voice. “It’s fine,” she says more quietly. “I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s a problem I’ve been working for a while now and that’s not even the worst thing that’s happened to me so far. And the enchantment had a safety timer built in, so I would have been fine.” She raises her head, looking through Ashan rather than at him. “Compared to some of the other mishaps, this one actually felt… nice? It was quiet. Like all the thoughts going in my head all the time finally shut up for once and let me just be. Awareness without a sense of self to be aware of and in a room with no external stimulus.” She slaps a hand to her forehead and laughs. “Okay, wow, that does sound bad when I say it aloud, but I promise I’m fine. It was actually about as restful as sleeping, I’m just a bit frazzled right now from the sudden jolt back into things. And probably dehydration. And maybe low blood sugar. But I’m good now. Mostly”

Dare: Empty Names - 10 - Cleanup

She suspects those two hadn’t really needed saving themselves, but Glassheart had definitely made it easier for them to get those last two passengers out unharmed. And he’d looked amazing doing it, no matter which point of view she watched the feed from. The fluttering dress, the flowing wand motions, and that conjuration at the end. Goddess, now that was the sort of working that she’d only ever heard about. Having gotten to see it, even remotely, is almost enough to take the sting out of wishing that could have been her out there doing that, being even half that useful. Half that brave. Half that - dare she even think it? - that beautiful.

She indulges a self-deprecating chuckle. All this, all her… well her everything and now she finds herself wishing she could be like a guy. Well, to be fair, it’s one specific guy whom she would still be mistaking for a girl if someone hadn’t said something. Yeah, no one ever needs to know about that mixup. Seriously, of all people, she should know better by now than to assume. At least she’d realized her mistake before she actually said anything. That would have been mortifying.

Token: Empty Name - 17 - Embedded Media

She takes off her gloves, reaches into a cargo pocket on her pants, and fishes out a thin metal sheet, slightly longer and wider than her open hand with the fingers pressed together. A spiraling, branching mess of mutilated glyphs cover both sides, one for the incantation recording and one for the desired end effect.

Small, simple changes compounded over time. That’s the way to do it. Just alter one body part at a time, and control the speed of the ritual to keep the change gradual, only pushing further when it feels right.

She’d tried almost this exact same experiment a week back, and the change had lasted a solid twenty minutes after the ritual ended. Far longer than the seventeen seconds she got out of the full body attempt, but still shorter than what someone with proper training and experience could pull off and nowhere near permanent. Shortly after she started visiting Crossherd regularly she’d found an alchemist’s shop selling potions that claimed to do the same thing for a full day. Sure they’d only ever lasted about an hour for her, and that was before she built up a tolerance from drinking one every night for a month straight, but at least they never left her chest itching all the next day like her last experiment had. The effect on her psyche of seeing and feeling them wear off earlier and earlier until they barely did anything at all had probably been fuel for her current autogenesis issues though. But that’s what she’s fixing now. Hopefully.

The idea of tying the transmutive effect to an object was one she had been toying with even before the last mission, but seeing all those natural-born shapeshifters with their abilities tied to a token of some sort made her all that more confident that there was something to it. And if she has to carry around a veritable deck of enchanted metal cards everywhere she goes to keep a body that feels right, then that’s a small price to pay.

Having learned from past mistakes regarding sudden shifts in center of mass, Lacuna takes a cross-legged seat on the floor, clasps the metal card to her chest, activates the stored incantation, and focuses on the new reality she wants for her body.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #tag game #writing tag games #find the word tag #word find tag

11 notes · View notes

smidgen-of-hotboy · 19 days

Text

Our Angel of Brahma, pt. vi

This one's gonna hurt. Strap in folks. (promise for something lighter afterwards) @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @ananxiousgenz @demonic-panini @the-private-eye @gwenlena

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING BEGINS. NEW VOICE: Two weeks ago we were celebrating Baird’s seventeenth birthday. Charlie had given him an early birthday gift– a book that he bribed a Constable for a few days prior. And now this week, Charlie is missing. Here is what we know: On the first day of the week, Charlie had plans with Talia's little book club to sneak on to New Kinshasa. They were going to hide on the aid shuttles and storm the pantries in hopes of getting more supplies to Brahma. They were successful and managed to get on the next shuttle back to Brahma the following morning without getting caught. On the third day of the week, Charlie made plans to go back to New Kinshasa using the same method to search for medicine for Mrs. Darius. She’s been reporting a lot of pain. If I allocate any more to her, we won’t have enough to go around until New Kinshasa supplies us with more meds in six months. For both of these outings, Baird was not involved in them. He stayed back on Brahma and paced around the neighborhood all day and night waiting for Charlie. Again, this mission was a success. It proved that the Constables were not efficiently checking the shuttles like they were supposed to be. It proved that it was possible to get on to New Kinshasa undetected. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN, NEW RECORDING BEGINS. NEW VOICE: I had to put Baird back to sleep. He wakes up, he lies there, and then he starts weeping. I’m… not built to be a parent. But if I go, if I leave him now, he’ll have no one left. (SIGH) Charlie and Talia’s book club had found a weakness to get to New Kinshasa. On the seventh day, Charlie, his dad Eber, and Talia were going to go up there and were going to scope out the city’s streets. They wanted to make a map and find out where they could get access to the Reactor Core. Camilla wanted to go but Eber reasoned that if all three of them went, who would take care of Evelyn? Josie was the obvious choice but Charlie and I vetoed that. So Camilla stayed. On the sixth day, the three of them set out for the shuttle. Mrs. Darius had set out laundry to dry in her apartment, Baird was entertaining the twins, and Josie, Camilla, Hank, and I waited around Camilla’s comms for a call from Eber. No news was good news. Night fell. And then the broadcast went out. Three stowaways on a New Kinshasan Aid Shuttle were found. Two of them had been detained. And the third had run away and was hiding somewhere in the city. Brahma was set into lockdown. We would not be getting any more aid until the last stowaway was caught. The facial recognition scanners had identified the two captives as Eber Spade and Talia Virgo. We are all holding our breath, wondering and waiting for what comes next. Baird, if you are listening to this, I am very sorry I took your mother's comms. I know it’s important to you, but you were so upset and angry. I didn’t want you to accidentally damage it and beat yourself up over it later. I’m sorry I can’t bring your parents back, I’m sorry I couldn’t save your dad, and I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. The last thing your dad and I talked about was you. If something happened to him, I would become responsible for your guardianship. If something happened to both of us, the Spade family agreed to take care of you. And then if not us or them, Josie, and if she couldn’t, even old-timer Hank agreed. I am so sorry Baird. This is not the future any of us wanted for you. It’s not the life I would want any person to grow into. But I made a promise to your father to take care of you. Charlie is aware of that promise, Talia wasn’t. That’s why he got mad you when he found out about your book club. You’re seventeen, and you are old enough to make your own decisions, and I trust most of them that you make. But going off on this mission would have been a death march for you. You don’t know what you’re up against out there. Neither did Charlie but… he’s been tangling with the Constables since your father was taken. Gotta hand it to the kid, he’s pretty damn smart. I am not an optimist. But I am going to make myself believe. I am choosing to believe that Eber and Talia will be roughed up and sent home under watch. I am choosing to believe that Charlie is safe and will make his way back to us. I am choosing to believe that just this once, it will work out for us. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEXT RECORDING BEGINS. BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY): …They caught him. It took half a week, but they caught him… After a few days lying around feeling sorry for myself, Iris gave back my mom’s comms, I listened back and… I just didn’t feel like there was anything I could add. (SIGH) Here is what we now know: Charlie’s dad and Talia were arrested and held in New Kinshasa jail cells for half a week. The Constables found Charlie hiding in a construction zone and arrested him. The New Kinshasan government put out an announcement of a mandatory broadcast in two days. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. RECORDING BEGINS. (BAIRD SOBBING UNCONTROLLABLY) BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY): It was supposed to be me! It should have been me! IRIS: Baird! Baird! Give me the comms, I know you don’t want to break it– BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY): Get the fuck out of my face!! I wish my dad never met you! SOUND: FIST PUNCING A FACE. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. RECORDING BEGINS. (IRIS HUFFING) IRIS: I had no choice but to sedate Baird. Baird, I am not sorry. You fucking punched me. I know I’m not your parent dammit, I know the broadcast hurt you, but that was unacceptable! What you did– how you reacted– it… it fucking hurts! (HEAVY SIGH) They released Talia and Eber to go home yesterday. Eber’s hands and feet are bad. And Talia’s face is unrecognizable. There are electrical burn marks all over their bodies. And I don’t think they were given access to any food or water. I’m doing the best I can to treat the worst of it. Eber cried because he can’t hold his wife or baby girl, and the twins are afraid of Talia. Mrs. Darius keeps asking how she can help, but I keep telling her not to worry, and I keep telling Hank to keep her occupied. The broadcast was today. We all gathered around Camilla’s comms to watch what was going to happen. From the New Kinshasa’s Town Square, a platform was set up, and surrounding it were dozens of Constables. Some of them so small I swear they must be nabbing them from the crib. One of each of the other ranks was present too. Sergeants, Inspectors, Superintendents. Three Constables marched Charlie up onto the platform. Behind them, the Chief walked onto the platform. Every last one of those brats saluted them. They identified the third stowaway, Charlie Spade, and listed off various other offenses he had committed. Bribing a Constable for confectionary sweets. Bribing a Constable for banned literature. Shoplifting from a corner store. Vandalizing New Kinshasan government property. Breaking and entering. All things that we know of. And then they said something strange: they had evidence that Charlie killed a Sergeant. (LONG PAUSE) The traditional method to get rid of Brahman Vermin, as they said, is to power on the Guardian Angel System and snipe them from up high. The Chief shook their head and said that in extreme cases though, extreme action must also be taken. The Chief pulled out a blaster, a make and model even old-timer Hank didn’t recognize. They asked Charlie if he had any grievances to air. Anything to get off his chest. I don’t think he knew where the camera was because Charlie kept his gaze fixed down. He looked up and out, and he was looking past New Kinshasa. His eyes were hollow, and his face was gaunt. There must have been a million things running through his mind. But I saw an ounce of clarity in him when he opened up his mouth, and began to sing. (IRIS TRIES TO SING) O’ my lover once sang to me. How sweet, the bitter tune you made them plea. My angel, my angel, please let me go, let me free. My angel, my angel. Please never stop singing for me. (IRIS SNIFFLES) The apartment, the whole block, and all of Brahma were silent. I knew the kid loved Baird. You’d have to be a damn fool not to see it. But that– that cracked him. It cracked wide open an infected wound of a child who already loss both their parents to a pointless war and lost cause. Baird stood up on shaky knees and took one staggering step backwards. At the same time, the Chief nodded, and said it was a beautiful send-off, “All hail, New Kinshasa.” Charlie mouthed something that the camera didn’t catch but Talia mumbled it loud enough for us all to hear, “All hail, a free Brahma.” The Chief raised their blaster to Charlie’s head and at point-blank range, pulled the trigger. He fell instantly. Convulsed on the ground. And then went stock still. I tore myself away from the stream to look at Baird, and there was a scream locked up inside of him. It’s been five hours. Brahma is under a new surveillance schedule. Our curfew has turned in earlier. And we will only be getting aid once a week now instead of nearly every day. I know it means very little Baird, but I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

- … - Baird, 16 (two weeks from 17): Charlie gifted Fahrenheit 451, started “book club” with Talia, got in trouble about it with Charlie and others when found out. Josie had twins, Hank’s dog died, Mrs. Darius accepted her diagnosis.- Baird, 17: Charlie taken, publicly executed. - Baird, 27: the “decade” recording. - Baird, 14: charlie’s “dad” recording.- Baird, 12: Peter Nureyev threatened the G.A.S., and mom was taken away from their home. - Iris is Baird’s step-parent. They (Iris and Baird) have no one left. - Frannie says she wants to help me now without pay. I can’t let her do that, but she is insisting that she’ll help recover the rest of the recordings, all I have to do is write a damn article. And with a roughly estimated age range for Baird, Frannie’s contact is going to give a bit of help too. I think I’m going to visit my mom’s grave in the meantime. I need a break.

#ask to be tagger or removed #tumblr formatting my beloathed can go suck my- [REDACTED]#i cried writing this.#seriously. fr. i cried real tears.#aaa- more 1/2am bullshit :)#“if you enjoyed this tale. please consider joining our patreon.”#<- all lies i do not have a patreon #the penumbra podcast #the penumbra fanfic #a hotboy's writing #our angel of brahma

11 notes · View notes

xspilltheteapleasex · 2 months

Text

Normal Days Are Nowhere To Be Found: PART TWO

Avengers x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was a normal day. Accept for the fact your an Avenger. Also the feeling of doom you have. Something bad was going to happen today. You just know it.

Word Count: 751

Content Warning: Mentions of feelings of doom

A/N: Hello everybody! :) This is part two. More chapters to come. See y'all soon!

My Main Masterlist

My Avenger Stories Masterlist

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶

Normal Days Are Nowhere To Be Found Masterlist

-PART ONE-

Today is going to be a good day. Today is going to be a good day. Today is going to be a good day.

You decide that you were going to push that “feeling of offness” deep down where there is no sign of light. There are some things that you could control, you just had to focus on them.

“What do I want to wear today?” You asked yourself in the mirror.

Looking through the options in your closet, you settled on a Y/F/C striped shirt, and a pair of ripped jeans.

Good enough.

After slathering face wash all over your face, and brushing your pearly whites, you decided that it was finally bacon time!

You closed the Y/F/C door to your room, and started down the hall to the common room.

Wait. Peter is probably still asleep.

You two stayed up late last night for an impromptu study session/ platonic sleepover. And knowing Peter, he is almost definitely still sound asleep. And of course, holding the very prestigious title of best friend, it was your job to wake him up. Heehee.

“WAKE UP SLEEPY HEAD!!!” You yelled at the top of your lungs while rapidly banging on his red and white spiderwebbed door.

You heard a loud thump coming from Peter’s room. Then a groan.

“You up Pete?”

After a beat, came a muffled response.

“Yesss…I’m..u.pppp” He yawned.

You giggled to yourself. You walked over to the stairwell, and hopped onto the handle bar sliding all the way down into the common room.

“Good morning Y/N!” Natasha said from her place at the dining room table.

“Morning everyone!” You said cheerfully to everyone in the room.

You heard a bunch of “good morning’s”, and “mornin’s”, and one “pleasant morning were having, as I was told”, from none other than Vision.

Wanda was making breakfast for everybody, with Vision failing tremendously at helping her. Steve was being an old man, and reading the morning newspaper at the dining room table. Sitting across from him were Natasha and Bruce who were having an adorable conversation. Clint, Buck, Sam, and Pietro, (yes Pietro, he's alive in my heart), were playing a very intense game of Mario Kart ™ that involved a lot of yelling and accusations of cheating. You were surprised that you saw Tony this early, but you guessed that he probably got dragged out of his lab for some coffee.

“Good morning Y/N. How did you sleep?” Wanda asked while putting bacon in a pan.

Before you could answer, you heard footsteps coming from the top of the stairs.

“I slept alright, had some pretty weird dreams.” You said while dragging a bean bag chair to the side of the staircase.

“What kind of weird dreams?”

“I-”

You got cut off by Peter coming down the staircase the same way you did, sliding down the handle bar. Except for the fact that halfway down, he fell off the bar and landed face first into the bean bag chair. You were amazing like that.

“HA!” Yelled Pietro. Everybody started giggling.

A muffled “good morning” came from the bean bag chair.

Wanda continued, "You were saying Y/N?”

“Yes, um weird dreams. I had one about a shadow-like person, and another one about a timer going off.” Now half of the avengers were listening in on your conversation.

“That is quite strange” said Vision.

“Vision, the eggs!” Wanda exclaimed.

You walked over to where Vision and Wanda were.

“Here Vision, why don't you let me help Wanda make breakfast? You can be an old man and go read the newspaper with Steve.” You took the pan of burnt eggs and threw them away.

“Haha…” Steve said with a stink eye while handing vision another newspaper.

Wanda whispered a quiet thank you. You nodded.

"Wanda, this smells amazing and look scrumptious!"

Wanda smiled.

As soon as you and wanda finish making breakfast, you are summoned by some slightly aggressive racers.

“Y/N! Come over and play Mario Kart ™ so I can beat you again!” Peiro taunted.

“Ummmm…You mean so I can beat you again!” You taunted back.

“As I remember it, I beat you all last time..so..” Clinted replied.

“Whatever you say…”

You put your plate of food down on the table and grabbed a controller. Sitting on the back of the couch, you rolled over to lay on your back.

“You're going to play upside down?” Sama asked.

“It will make things fair between us.”

Bucky smirked. "Let's do this!"

3…2…1…GOOOO!

The race started.

8 notes · View notes

steddieassheg0es · 2 years

Text

I Think He Wants To Be Gentle With Me

Steve had been through this before. Well, not this, the demobats and Vecna, but this Upside Down bullshit. He’d been through more insanity in the past couple years than most people experience in a lifetime. He’s a pro.

So why is he absolutely NOT handling this well?

Even Eddie, the first timer, has made it through with his easy smiles in tact. He seems surprisingly unfazed by it all. He barely made it out of that place, but he seems so light and joyful. Maybe it’s that the whole town doesn’t think he’s a Satanic murderer anymore, maybe he’s just happy to be alive. Whatever it’s is he seems to be in good spirits. Which is great.

But Steve. Steve can’t sleep. It’s been months since he dragged Eddie’s body back through the rapidly closing gate back to the real world. Since the weird government hospital ran their tests and treated their wounds. And in those months he hasn’t gotten more than a few hours sleep at a time, none of it peaceful.

Eddie may be healing well, but god…he looked dead down there when they first found him and Dustin. Even when they felt a pulse, Steve wasn’t entirely sure if he was dragging him back to be nursed back to health or just because he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his body in that place.

So now when he closes his eyes, that’s what he sees. Those huge brown eyes dull and lifeless. Sometimes he’s there with him, wrapped up in those vines watching Eddie screaming and begging for help and just can’t get to him. Sometimes he only gets there in time to watch his last breath. But he was always, always too late.

He tried to just avoid sleeping for a while. But Steve was pretty sure you could die from lack of sleep eventually. Or at least go crazy. And his friends were concerned, they could clearly see his exhaustion. The last thing he wanted was to burden them with unnecessary concern after everything they’d gone through. Especially the kids. So eventually he caved.

That night was the worst. That night he wasn’t in control of his own body. He wasn’t just unable to save Eddie, he was the one who killed him. Plunging a knife into him over and over. He woke up and felt like he couldn’t breathe. He could still feel the blood on his shaking hands.

So that is how Steve Harrington ended up in Eddie Munson’s doorstep at 2AM on a Tuesday.

Eddie opened his door clearly very unimpressed to be woken at such an hour. His hair was even more wild than usual, his big doe eyes blinking away sleep.

“Who the fuck—“ Eddie took one look at him and softened. “Harrington?”

And just like that, Steve could breathe again.

—

Eddie was surprised when it was all said and done that he seemed to have been adopted into this little found family. He was grateful for everything they’d done, everything they’d risked for him. He just figured once the danger was gone, they would be too.

Well, not the Hellfire kids, though they’re even closer now. Robin he wasn’t too shocked by either, kindred queers as they were (though neither had actually come out to the other, Eddie had figured her out in middle school and he’s fairly certain she did the same). Nancy Wheeler was a surprise. Even the Cali group welcomed him with no hesitation. Then there was Steve.

Steve…ask him a year ago and he’d laugh and say the guy’s a douche. But Dustin had been singing his praises all year long. He wasn’t sure then how much he believed it all but the kid had good instincts so there had to be some truth in it.

Then he met him, really met him and saw just how fucking sweet the guy could be. The way he took care of everyone. He may grumble about ‘always being the babysitter’, but he was fiercely protective of those kids. And anyone in need, it seemed.

He didn’t think the others knew it, but Steve had dropped by during his isolation quite a bit on his own. Not with supplies or updates. Just…to be there. When Eddie finally got the courage to ask why, he’d let out a hollow little laugh.

“No one should be alone all the time, man.”

Eddie couldn’t be sure, but he got the feeling Steve knew what that was like.

Shit. Eddie wasn’t dumb, he had eyes. He’d always known how fucking gorgeous the other man was. Now to have that paired with the charming, surprisingly dorky guy he’d gotten to know…Eddie’s heart never stood a chance.

Then everything was done and Eddie was prepared to get that heart a little broken. He did not for a second think Steve would keep on hanging around him once he wasn’t a damsel in distress. Sure, he now knew Steve was a genuinely good person. But that’s all he figured it was. Kindness to the freak in need.

Yet here he was.

He’d helped Eddie move in to his nice new house. Once the government had cleared his name they’d set him up with what he assumed was a “sorry you got blamed for a murder committed by our mistake of a monster, also keep your mouth shut about said monster” gift. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was a hell of a lot better than going back to the trailer where he watched Chrissy…

Steve even came to the first Hellfire Club meeting post not-pocalypse. He’d spent most of it looking adorably confused, but he’d stayed. He’d even given Eddie these looks that could only be described as fondly amused at his most theatrical moments.

Not a day went by in the weeks after it all that he didn’t see Steve. So Eddie watched the progression of exhaustion on his face. He couldn’t help the growing knot of concern in his stomach. He wanted to say something, do something, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

The others saw it too. He’d overheard what sounded like the planning of an intervention. But it turns out to be unnecessary, and he doesn’t even have to do anything. There’s a knock on his door at 2 in the goddamned morning scaring him awake. He swings the door open, ready to inflict pain on whoever dared to disturb his slumber.

“Who the fuck—“ Steve? God he looks like a wreck, devastated and so tired. Eddie’s anger vanished and was instantly replaced by worry. “Harrington?”

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…god it’s so late, I’m an asshole, go back to—“

“Steve” he interrupts the rambling gently, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid, I don’t…”

“Whatever it is, if it’s got you this upset it’s not stupid. Come inside. Please.”

Steve takes a shuddering breath then nods. “Yeah…yeah ok.”

Eddie opens the door wider and lets Steve pass. He hesitates before putting a hand on his back to guide him over to the couch. Eddie grabs a blanket off the back and wraps it around Steve’s shoulders without thinking. Then carefully sits beside him.

“Now…what’s wrong?”

“I know it’s crazy but I just…I needed to see you. To see that you’re ok.”

That…wasn’t what Eddie was expecting to hear. He’s not quite sure what to do with it. “Why wouldn’t I be ok?”

Steve curls further in on himself and closes his eyes like he’s bracing himself.

“I’ve been having nightmares. Since everything. And tonight I…you were…” tears leak from beneath those tightly closed eyes, “It was me who killed you. Vecna, the Mind Flayer, whatever, made me kill you. There was so much blood and I watched you die and it was all my fault I couldn’t stop it I couldn’t—“

“Steve, Steve! Breathe.” Eddie places a gentle hand on Steve’s chest and makes a show of his own deep breathing. “That’s it, inhale…exhale…you’re safe. I’m fine, I’m right here with you. Everything’s ok. Shhh.”

Steve was still shaking, but at least he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore. God, he looked so…small. Small and fragile, like the slightest breeze and he’d just break to pieces.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to be alone right now. You can go back to bed, I’ll be fine, just…can I stay on the couch?”

Eddie remembers that hollow laugh. ‘No one should be alone all the time’ he’d said. Just how often was Steve left by himself in that big house of his?

“Come on sweetheart, look at me.” The endearment slips out but he’s pretty sure Steve was too out of it to have really noticed. His eyes finally opened and met Eddie’s. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. We are both going back to bed, I have plenty of space to share.” There was a wild, panicked look in those eyes now. “You’re exhausted Steve, you have to sleep. You can’t keep going like this. But I’ll be right there. You have another nightmare and I’ll be right there with you. I can remind you that I’m-that we’re all ok. We made it out of there. It’s over.”

With that he stands and tugs on the end of the other man’s sleeve. “Come on, up.”

—

At this point there was nothing left in him. He couldn’t fight as Eddie pulled him by his shirt down the hall towards the bedroom. Or as he was nudged towards the bed, then gently pushed down on it.

“I can sleep on the floor, it’s fine.”

Eddie shot him a glare. “Not happening Harrington. I have a king size bed I’m not making you sleep on the damn floor. You need actual rest.”

Eddie knelt down on the floor in front of him and his heart stuttered, still beating rapidly but no longer from fear. But then Steve’s shoes were pulled off and his legs were nudged up onto the bed. He scooted over as far as his body would let him as Eddie joined him and pulled the blankets up to cover them both.

“Alright now princess, close those pretty eyes of yours. It’s time for good little boys to sleep.”

“Mm what about you?” he mumbled drowsily.

“Aww are you saying I’m not a good boy? I’m wounded!” Eddie chuckled.

His tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he tried to form a response.

“Shhh, you can snark at me all you want later. Sleep.”

And somehow…he did.

—

Eddie wakes for the second time much later in the day, his brain fuzzy. He almost thinks last night was a dream but…There’s an unexpected pressure on top of him.

He looks down to see that in the night Steve had shifted, curled up around him with one leg hitched over his and an arm thrown over him. Steve’s head was resting just above his heart, which felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest.

Shit. Shit. His eyes shot back to the ceiling above. What had he been thinking, forcing Steve into his bed? With him in it? He was so utterly screwed.

But looking back down at the man resting peacefully, he couldn’t regret it. If by some miracle he made Steve feel safe enough to actually sleep…He could do this. He could let the extremely straight man he’d been pathetic enough to fall so madly in love with platonically share his bed. His stupid heart could take the abuse. He’d take an awful lot to bring Steve peace.

So he settled in as much as he could. No way was he going to get up and risk waking his sleeping beauty. Carefully, he lifted the arm under Steve enough to card his hand through that oh-so-famous head of hair. Soft.

It was another 30 minutes or so before the other man began to stir. Eddie’s hand froze as the head beneath it titled back. Pretty hazel eyes blinked up at him blearily.

“Wha-?”

“Hey there, welcome back to the waking world. How do you feel?” His voice was barely a whisper, like if he spoke too loud the safe bubble they were in would shatter.

“Eddie?” Steve’s brow furrowed with his usual look of adorable confusion. “What…huh?”

He couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled out of him. Fuck, this man was cute. And very clearly not a morning person. Or late afternoon person, as it was. “Take your time princess.”

A pretty pink blush made it’s way across Steve’s cheeks. “Princess?” He looks down, then seems to suddenly snap into awareness of their positions because he rolls himself off of Eddie frantically. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Eddie shrugs easily like it didn’t make his foolish heart ache to lose Steve’s touch. “It’s not a big deal. You didn’t answer my question, though. How’re you feeling?”

—

Huh. He feels…well, not great exactly, but definitely better. He actually slept. Not enough to quite make up for all the sleep he’s lost, but still. No more nightmares plagued him last night.

“Wow. I can’t believe I really slept. Was starting to think I’d never get a full night again.” He looks up at Eddie with something like awe. “Thank you.”

“Eh it wasn’t like it was a hardship or anything. I’ve had worse bed partners.” Eddie shoots him a cheeky grin and he can feel his face heat up even more.

“Right…well, really, thank you. And I’m sorry for showing up like that. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“Steve.” Eddie’s face is suddenly deadly serious. “Don’t do that. I know you’re the hero and the worlds best babysitter and all that, but you’re allowed to have needs too. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.” Seemingly satisfied with his little speech, he once again lights up with a dimpled smile. “Also you can’t just run out of here without breakfast, man. They say it’s the most important meal of the day.”

Steve sees the pleading in those big doe eyes. Damn, Eddie must get everything he wants when he uses those things against people. Steve feels helpless to deny him, anyway.

“Yeah…yeah, ok. But I’m cooking.”

“Duh, Harrington. We both know I’m more likely to burn the place down than produce anything remotely edible.”

For all his joking, Eddie has a fully stocked kitchen. Steve makes himself at home in it while Eddie slides into a stool across the counter, resting his chin in his hand and observing. He grabs everything he’ll need and gets to work. Bacon, eggs, and French toast.

“Well damn, Steve, if I knew having you in my bed meant waking up to a full spread I’d have invited you over a long time ago.”

Eddie says these things so casually, like they don’t make Steve’s heart race and his face burn.

“Yeah…I’ve gotten used to fending for myself in the kitchen and it turns out I enjoy it. I don’t usually have an excuse to make anything special, seems like a waste for just me, so I take advantage when I do.”

He glances over and catches an emotion on Eddie’s face he can’t name before it quickly morphs back into a cheeky smirk.

“Aw Stevie, you’re worth spoiling all on your own.”

—

Eddie has to bite his tongue to stop from asking about Steve’s parents, how often he’s left to fend for himself...if he’s lonely.

He wants to know everything there is to know about the man across from him. He wants to find every pain and soothe it all away. He wants to find every joy and surround him with it.

But he also wants to keep this morning as light as he can after last night. He doesn’t think Steve is ready to dig in to his other baggage right now. And god does he just want this man to smile.

So he jokes and, like an idiot, he flirts. Delights in every blush he can make rise to the surface. Even more in every smile or laugh he manages to evoke. He’s not stupid enough to think everything is all better, but Steve looks more relaxed than he has since before this shit all started and he’ll take it.

Once they’ve finished eating, Eddie looks over at him and ponders how to stretch this little hang out as long as he can. Riding the high of Steve’s laughter, basking in his presence. He’s not ready to let him go.

“What? What’s that look?”

“Hmm so worried all the time. Don’t worry Steve, I won’t bite…unless you ask nicely.” He winks salaciously.

“I-I’m not worried. You’re not as scary as people think you are Munson.”

“Ohhh that sounds like a challenge. Think you’re tough there big boy?”

“No, I didn’t…never mind.” Steve looks off to the side, embarrassed.

“Hey man I’m only teasing you.” Eddie frowns, knowing he’s stuck his foot right in his mouth once again without even knowing how. He’s not sure what he said wrong, but he knows he did something to ruin the moment.

“No, I know. It’s fine. Anyways, you got any plans today?”

—

Steve isn’t ready to leave. He’s never ready to leave when Eddie’s around. But he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome.

“Not really. You?”

“I’m off today, but Rob’s working. The kids are all busy doing…honestly, I’m not sure but I don’t think I want to know. So no, I don’t have anything going on today.”

“Mmm, shame. I guess you’ll have to be stuck with me then.” Eddie’s smirking but there’s an almost…hopeful look in his eyes. Maybe he’s still welcome after all.

He had hoped for an opening to insinuate himself into Eddie’s day, but this is a flat out invitation.

“Oh yeah? I guess I can deal with that.”

—

They end up just lazing around Eddie’s place. He figures one night of rest isn’t really enough after everything so Steve probably isn’t up for too much. Eddie uses the opportunity to force some nerd media on him.

“Really? We’re gonna watch a cartoon about weird magic shit?”

“Hey if you’re gonna be hanging around Hellfire, you’ve gotta up your nerd knowledge man. Be happy I’m not making you read the books even though they’re clearly the superior way to get the story.”

He glances over and sees a pleased little smile on Steve’s face.

“I’m invited to your game nights?”

Eddie furrows his brow, confused by Steve’s surprise. “You’ve already been man, of course you are.”

“Well, yeah, I mean I was on babysitting duty so I drove the kids over and kind of just didn’t leave. S’not the same as being invited.”

“Steve. Of course you’re invited.” You’re always invited anywhere I am, he doesn’t say.

Steve’s face is alight with a shy, happy glow. “Oh. Ok.”

Did he really not know? Eddie sometimes felt like he had a neon sign above his head that said “stupidly in love with Steve Harrington” and permanent hearts in his eyes, but even with his straight guy obliviousness he still assumed Steve would know he was wanted around. Everyone wants him around. Like, always. Anyone who meets him is drawn into his orbit.

“Yes. Anyway, The Hobbit is required viewing for any and all party members. Including observers.”

“Ok , ok, we’ll watch your nerd movie. I can’t promise I’ll understand any of it though.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie, that’s what I’m here for.”

—

Steve really doesn’t follow it, but he does enjoy listening to Eddie talk, trying to explain things and get him to pay extra attention to the good parts. Actually he probably follows it a lot less because he’s enjoying listening to Eddie talk.

Eddie’s just so passionate. Even when Steve has no clue what he’s talking about, just feeling the joy radiating out of him when he talks about things he loves is intoxicating.

It’s dangerous, really, because Steve would do anything he asked just to be a part of that joy in some small way.

“So anyway, we’ll watch The Lord of The Rings some time even though it’s kind of a mess. But now it’s your turn. What would you like to watch?”

“Hm? Oh. Uh…I don’t know, man. I mean Rob’s doing her best to get me educated since we work at Family Video but I guess I don’t watch a lot of movies. I’m fine with whatever.”

Eddie turns those Bambi eyes on him at full power. “Aww come on, I want to know what you’d pick. I mean we’re only picking from my collection so you know I’ll like it anyway. No judgement. Just take a look and find something that sparks your interest.”

He’s got to know what he’s doing. But intentional or not, Steve relents to it. He sits on the ground in front of the tv and searches through the tapes. He considers a few horror options, debating whether he could get away with clinging to Eddie in fright before decided they may hit too close to home for him these days.

Finally he settles on The NeverEnding Story. Partially because it reminds him of ‘Dusty-buns’ singing and makes him smile, but also because he thinks the art on the cover is pretty.

Eddie looks to see what he finally settled on. “Ah, good choice.”

—

They go back and forth picking movies until Eddie finally looks around and realizes it’s dark out. Has been for a while…

“Shit, it’s getting late.”

Steve’s face falls. He’s quick to cover it but Eddie sees it all the same. “Oh, yeah. Sorry for hogging your couch all day, man. This was nice. I should…I should probably get home.”

Fucking hell, what is it going to take for Steve to realize Eddie’s not kicking him out? Will never kick him out. “What? No. I mean…of course you’re not a hostage you can go if you want, I just meant that we should probably eat something.”

“Oh.” He ducks his head like he’s trying to hide his shy smile. “Yeah. Sure. What do you want?”

“I was joking earlier you know, I am capable of making food.”

“I’m sure you’re a culinary genius. But I wasn’t joking earlier when I said I enjoy cooking. So shut up and tell me what you want.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow “Can’t very well do both of those at the same time, can I? I’m not picky, so go wild. Me kitchen es su kitchen.”

The smile he gets in reply is enough to melt the coldest heart, he’s sure. He’d eat steaming garbage to see that smile.

Eddie watches Steve prep his chosen ingredients and feels his heart going mad in his chest. It’s just so domestic. He has to grip the counter he’s leaning back on to stop himself from sliding right in behind Steve and wrapping his arms around his waist. Pressing a biting kiss to his neck. Letting his hands wander…

“You good?”

He blinks away the little fantasy playing in his head and manages a shaky smile. “Yeah, all good. What’d you decide on?”

“Nothing fancy. Just a lemon pasta with roasted asparagus…if you don’t cook why do you have all of this anyway?”

“To lure pretty boys who cook into my kitchen” he grins at Steve’s blush. “I guess those suits had a lot of pity, they stocked this place full of shit. I mean I wouldn’t have picked out a king size bed just for little ol’ me, but hey I wasn’t gonna say no. And apparently that also included food. Like asparagus, another thing I wouldn’t have picked for myself.”

“It won’t kill you to eat a vegetable.”

“Mmm, yes Princess. Whatever you say.”

Steve puts the pan in the oven and turns to face him. “What’s with that?”

“Hm?”

“Princess? You keep calling me Princess.” He looks torn between upset and…something else Eddie can’t quite decipher. Shit.

“I’m sorry. It’s not…I don’t mean anything by it. I’ll stop.”

“I didn’t say you had to stop. I’m asking why?”

Well that’s…interesting. “I uh…I don’t know. It just…it suits you, somehow. If you prefer King Steve…”

“King Steve was a douchebag.” His nose crinkles in apparent distaste for his past self. “I don’t…I don’t mind Princess.” He’s pink to the tips of his ears and down his chest. Eddie’s tempted to pull at the collar of his shirt and see how far down that color goes. “As long as it’s not a…you know, derogatory thing.”

A gay thing, Eddie’s pretty sure he means. Because he’s not gay. Fuck.

—

Steve feels like his whole body is on fire. A gay thing, he almost said. As long as you’re not mocking me for being…

“I’m not the expert but I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to stir pasta.”

“Shit!” He turns and gives it a stir, relieved to see he didn’t ruin it.

“Anyway, you don’t know, I may very well choke on that asparagus. A vegetable could kill me.” Something in Eddie’s smile is a little forced. He’s not sure why. Not sure where he messed things up.

They finally sit down to eat and miraculously Eddie survives. Enjoys it even, judging by the noises he makes.

When they’re finished and the dishes are all done, he knows he needs to leave. As gracious of a host as Eddie has been there no way he wants round two of Steve smothering him in his sleep.

At least he got some rest finally. Now he can keep going for a while longer, hopefully not force himself onto Eddie again in a week.

—

Eddie sees Steve grab his keys and his heart sinks. It was too much to hope that he could just…have this. Platonic snuggle buddies? Probably for the best, laying next to the source of his unrequited love every night would probably slowly kill him.

“Heading out?”

“Yeah I probably should. I could use a shower and some clean clothes, brush my teeth…”

Eddie hesitates, then decides fuck it. “Next time you should bring stuff. I mean I have toothpaste and stuff, but you know, clothes.”

“Next time?”

“Steve. Of course you’re invited.”

He thrills at the pleased little smile he gets. “Right. Well…next time then.” Steve says with a nod goodbye before stepping out of the door.

Eddie lays in bed thinking of Steve all alone in that big house. It must feel lonelier for all the space there is to be empty. He wishes he’d been braver, told Steve to go and grab his things and come right back. He has a spare room. He wouldn’t force the platonic cuddles. But maybe they could still fill each other’s empty spaces. At least some of them.

He’s on the edge of falling asleep when he hears a car pull into his driveway.

—

It seems that now that his brain has found the best tool to torture him with, it’s going to stick with it. He wakes screaming and trying to wipe the nonexistent blood off his hands.

He can’t do this. He can’t go back. But he can’t stay here.

So he gets in his car and drives aimlessly for a while. Luckily it’s late enough that he doesn’t see anyone else on the road, because he’s kind of zoned out. He’s pretty sure he’s aware enough to be safe, but he’s mostly just staring blankly ahead and trying not to think.

It works too well, because before he knows it he’s pulling up a newly familiar driveway. He turns the off the ignition and just…sits there. He can’t bring himself to go and knock. Maybe he can just sleep in the driveway, this can be close enough.

But then he closes his eyes and he sees the devastating look in Eddie’s staring back at him. The betrayal, the pain, the fear, all done by his hands. The light in those eyes fading.

Suddenly he’s in front of the door and Eddie’s looking out at him. With his wide, clear eyes still full of life. And Steve breathes again.

Eddie ushers him in, not even bothering to stop at the couch this time. “Come on, sweetheart, you’re ok. I’m here. Alright, go on. Into bed.” Steve does as he’s told, falling back into the pillows before throwing his hands over his eyes and sobbing. Eddie’s right there with him, curled up next to him and stroking his side like he’s a spooked horse.

“Shhhh. Oh baby, don’t cry. It’s ok. Everyone’s safe. You’re safe here.”

But that only makes Steve sob harder. “I-I’m sorry…I’m sorry I’m s-so pathetic I can’t go one night sleeping on my o-own.”

—

Eddie shifts to hover over him, gently tips his chin up until Steve’s hands fall away and those hazel eyes meet his own.

“Don’t you dare feel ashamed to need help. What we did? What we went through? That’s fucking traumatic. And you…God you take such good care of everyone else.” Steve’s eyes dip down and the fingers Eddie has on his chin grip harder and force his eyes back up. “For once let someone one take care of you. Let me take care of you. I want to take care of you. Please.”

“I can’t-I don’t….I’m no good, Eddie. I’m nothing.” Steve let out a broken little laugh. “I’m bullshit. And you’ll figure that out soon. You’ll want to leave like everyone does, only you won’t because you’re too good. And I’ll be too selfish to let you go.”

Eddie’s heart shatters. He wants to tell Steve he is everything, but he doesn’t need to deal with Eddie’s feelings right now. So he pulls Steve up to sit in his lap, wraps himself around him, and tries to surround him with as much love as he can.

“Oh sweetheart. That’s just not true. First of all, I’m never going anywhere and I’ll never want to. You’re stuck with me. Second, you are so, so good Stevie. I can’t even…there aren’t enough words. How could you possibly think you’re not?”

“Everyone knows it. King Steve.” He spits derisively. “What a joke. A hollow boy with a hollow crown.”

“Steve…that’s not who you are anymore. I’m not sure that it ever was, but it certainly isn’t now. You’re…you’re the world’s best babysitter. You’re a hero. You’re the protector, the caretaker, the heart of this little pieced together family. It kills me that you can’t see that about yourself.”

Steve starts struggling to get out of Eddie’s arms, to get up.

“I’m sorry Eddie. I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t be putting all of this on you.”

Eddie tightens his grip, refusing to let go. Scared of what will happen if he does.

“No, please. Stay. You cannot leave right now, I’ll lose my mind worrying about you. I want you to stay. I need you to stay with me.”

He sees Steve begin to cave. Of course he would stay for Eddie, not for himself. Eddie would feel guilty about using that against him if it didn’t mean keeping Steve safe. Keeping him here. He isn’t lying, if Steve walked out right now in his state of self-loathing and fear Eddie would go mad with worry until he saw him again.

“Ok, Eddie, if that’s what you want. I’ll stay.”

“Thank you.”

They sit quietly for a while, and when he looks down at Steve there is a far off look in his eyes as he stares at Eddie’s guitar.

“I could hear it, you know.”

Eddie jumps at the sudden break of silence.

“I could hear it, you know.”

Eddie jumps, unaware that Steve had noticed him awake.

“You playing. We could hear it from the house. When it stopped I think my heart did too. I was so worried about you two. It was really hard to stick to the plan. And then when I got back to you…Fuck, Eddie, I really thought you were dead. Dustin was sobbing and you were so still.”

“I’m sorry.”

Steve finally looks over to him. “For what? You have nothing to be sorry for. I hate what you did, but if you hadn’t you and Dustin would both probably be dead. You saved his life. How can I be mad at that?”

“You told me not to be a hero.”

“Yeah, I did. But I’m not mad. It just really fucked me up. To see you like that. I really thought I was bringing you back for a proper funeral. What I’m trying to say is…I’m sorry, Eddie. I should have never let you use yourself as bait like that. If I’d been better, faster, you never would have gotten hurt.”

“Jesus, Steve…You can’t save everyone all the time. We all knew the risks we were taking. You shouldn’t have had to go down there either, none of us should. But we did, and we’re here now. We both made it out alright. You saved my life, Steve, how can you still feel like you didn’t do enough?”

“It’s my job to-“

“No. It’s not. You’ve done an amazing job taking responsibility for your little ducklings and I won’t take that away from you. I’m happy to help, and I get it. They’re kids, they need to be looked after. But you and me? We can look out for each other. It is not your job to keep me safe. Sweetheart, you’ve gotta stop taking the world on your shoulders. Let me help you. Let Robin and Nancy and Jonathan help. Or it’s going to tear you apart. Please.”

Eddie reaches out to put his hand on top of Steve’s where it rests on the bed.

—

Steve feels hollowed out. A little numb. He’s so used to taking on everyone else’s problems, he doesn’t know what to do or how to feel about someone else trying to take on his.

“Yeah. Ok. I can try to do that.”

“Well I think you coming here the past couple of nights is good. It kills me that you had to get to your breaking point to reach out to me, but I’m glad you did. I mean it, Stevie. I want to be that person for you. If you’ll let me.”

He’s not sure he deserves this, but he’s going to hold on to it as long as he can.

—

It takes some convincing, but eventually they decide that Steve will spend his nights at Eddie’s.

While he’s off grabbing some clothes and things, Uncle Wayne arrives home from his visit to his mother’s. Shit. Eddie should probably mention this arrangement to him.

“What’s that look for, son?”

“Uhh…so how do you feel about having a house guest for a bit?”

“Excuse me?”

“My…my friend Steve. He’s not doing super well after the shit we went through. So I don’t really want him to be alone for a bit. His parents aren’t ever home, so…if you’re not cool with it I’ll go to his place, but I don’t think he likes it there much.”

“Oh your ‘friend’, hm?” Wait, you talking about the Harrington’s boy?”

“Yes friend. And yes, Steve Harrington. Why, is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just…Well the Harrington’s ain’t very nice people.”

Eddie scowls. “No, they’re not. But Steve’s not like them.”

“Alright kiddo, put your claws away. I’m not saying he is. I remember that boy sitting by your bedside for weeks in the hospital. He seems like a good kid. He can stay as long as he needs to. You’re a good friend.”

He can feel his cheeks heat. His uncle has always seen the best in him, no matter how much rebelling he’s done. Eddie tries his best to live up to it. He gives the old man a hug.

“Thank you.”

He perks up like a dog when he hears a car pull up to the house. Uncle Wayne snorts. “Mhm. ‘Friend’ my ass.”

Eddie flips him off as he races to the door, ignoring his uncle’s laughter.

—

Steve shifts uncomfortably in the Munson living room, not having expected Wayne Munson to be home. He’d honestly forgotten about the man over the past emotional few days.

“I’m sorry, sir, I can go. I didn’t mean to just move in to your house, that’s incredibly rude of me-“

“Son. Breathe. This place has plenty of room. And I work nights so I’m happy for Eddie to have someone to keep him company during the day while I sleep. We have no need for a guest room anyway, so feel free to make it yours.”

They’d talked about him sharing with Eddie, but just being out of his big empty house and being close to Eddie is enough. Knowing he can creep across the hall to see him if he has a nightmare.

“Ah…actually Uncle Wayne I think he’s gonna stay with me for now.”

Steve knows he’s bright pink, he watches Wayne shoot Eddie a look he can’t decipher, and Eddie glare in return. As if daring him to say something. But the man just nods.

“Make yourself at home, kid.”

“Thank you, sir. I don’t make that much at Family Video, but I’m happy to pay rent. And I promise I’ll clean up after myself, I can do the cooking too.”

“You’re not paying me anything. The house was free I don’t need no money for it. I’m not gonna tell you you can’t cook or clean, but don’t do me no favors. You saved Eddie’s life. You could burn this place to the ground and I’d still be grateful to you.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. The Munson family seems to be great at rendering him speechless. And heaping praise on him that he doesn’t deserve.

“Oh. Well, uh…I like to cook, in any case. And my parents are…very particular, so cleaning I’m used to. I don’t mind it.”

“Well Eddie sure don’t clean so that’ll be an improvement.”

“Hey!”

Eddie shoves his uncle and they engage in a playful wrestling match. He’s a bit overwhelmed by the familial affection he’s only ever seen on tv. Eddie is clearly a nephew in name only, loved like a son. Like a son should be loved. He has a moment of envy before he squashes it. He’s happy Eddie has this.

Eventually they break apart with laughter. Wayne announces he’s headed to bed, and tells them to behave and stay safe with another significant look to Eddie that Steve doesn’t understand. Whatever it is has Eddie going bright red which is interesting.

Once he’s in his room, Eddie helps Steve bring his stuff into the house. He didn’t bring much, didn’t want to impose, so it’s a quick job.

“Hey, you know you can have the guest room right? I mean even just to put your stuff. A space of your own to get away from me sometimes.”

I don’t want to get away from you, he doesn’t say. Instead he shrugs. “I don’t need that much stuff, I’m fine. I mean if you don’t want to share I totally get it.”

“No! Not at all. I just…all you brought is clothes and stuff. I know you’re not into my music, you didn’t bring any books or anything like that. I want you to be happy here. I don’t want you to make yourself as small as possible to fit.”

He didn’t really realize that’s what he was doing until it’s said out loud.

“Oh. Uh. Yeah, I guess I could…I mean I don’t hate your music you know, it’s not that bad once you get used to it. I don’t think I ever want to hear the song you played in the Upside Down ever again, but yeah. I guess I could go get more stuff later. But to be honest, not much else is mine over there. I guess I’ve been…making myself small for a long time.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but even he knows it really kind of is.

—

God Eddie’s heart breaks every time Steve casually says something so devastating, like he doesn’t even realize how fucked up it is.

“Steve…you don’t have to tell me, and I get it if after everything we’ve talked about lately you don’t want to, but…You can talk to me about your parents. I just want you to know that.”

“It’s probably not as bad as you think. I mean they’re just…they just don’t care. They had a kid because that’s what you’re supposed to do, not because they wanted to be parents. The messy reality of a child was very distasteful to them. But it only got worse once I got older and wasn’t a perfect trophy kid to brag to their friends about. Too stupid. Too soft. Once I was old enough to reach the stove they started taking off for long periods of time. When they’d come back, there would always be passive aggressive comments about the state of the house or how it looks to their friends that I wasn’t doing this or that. Mostly it’s just…nothing. They just don’t care. They don’t love me, they don’t even like me. After a while I stopped trying. It was a relief that they were gone most of the time even if being in the big empty house on my own sucked.”

“Oh sweetheart…I’m so sorry. You deserve so much better than that. No wonder you don’t know how to ask for what you need, Jesus.” He reaches out and pulls Steve into his arms.

—

Steve melts into him. He doesn’t cry, doesn’t have any tears left in him. Suddenly he’s exhausted. It’s like Eddie shines a light on all of his darkest parts, drags them to the surface so he can’t ignore them anymore. It’s terrifying to be seen so clearly. Draining. But also a relief. Because Eddie doesn’t just see his worst parts, he soothes them. Takes the fragile pieces and holds them with such tenderness.

So he feels lighter, but also dead on his feet.

“Hey angel, you ok?”

“Mmmm, sleepy.”

“Yeah? Let’s go take a nap then. C’mon.”

Eddie guides him gently to his room, to their room, and he’s out before his head hit the pillow.

—

Things go smoother after that for a while. Steve’s nightmares don’t miraculously go away, but they do lessen. And now when he wakes Eddie can be there to comfort him.

Their friends notice a difference. They also notice Steve wearing Eddie’s shirts on occasion. Eventually they put the pieces together and Robin pulls Eddie aside.

“Hey, what’s going on with you two? Don’t say nothing I’m not stupid.”

“Why are you asking me and not your platonic life partner?”

“Don’t be cute, Munson, I’m serious. Steve was…not doing well. He’s a lot better now, and he’s also wearing your clothes and honestly I can’t remember the last time you two didn’t arrive somewhere in the same vehicle. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy he’s looking healthier, but…I also know he’s not as tough as he likes to act like he is. I like you Eddie, but if you’re not serious about whatever it is that’s going on between you two you need to end it now.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s not like that.”

Eddie knows she’s coming from a place of love for Steve, so he tries to reign in the anger building in his chest.

“Then tell me what it’s like.”

“Like you said, he wasn’t doing well. He wasn’t sleeping. So he’s staying with me. To get out of that big empty house, and to have someone to help him sleep.”

She softens, her face falling. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean…I’ve just seen how you’ve flirted with him. And he can’t take some fling right now. I don’t think Steve really knows how to do casual. I just don’t want him to get hurt.”

“Robin…Even if he was into guys, into me, I wouldn’t do that. I would never hurt him.”

Now she’s looking at him with something like confusion mixed with pity.

“Oh. Ok. That’s…hm. Yeah I’ll talk to him. Sorry again Eddie, thanks for looking out for him.”

He feels like he’s missed something important, but for the life of him can’t figure out what.

—

It all changes after a particularly brutal nightmare. Steve wakes up screaming and flailing wildly until Eddie pins his arms down beside him.

“Shhh, baby, woah. It’s ok, you’re ok. Open your eyes, look at me. It’s Eddie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He feels one arm released, a hand trailing across his jaw. He does as he’s told to see Eddie hovering over him, and suddenly the nightmare is the last thing on his mind.

—

Eddie’s voice fails him as he realizes Steve has gone very still. He thinks this is it. The moment he’s stepped over that clear line. He said too much. He touched too much. He was too focused on calming Steve to remember to keep his filter up.

Then he sees the look in Steve’s eyes, those pupils blown wide. Oh. Oh.

It’s a risk. He’s balancing on the edge of a knife, one wrong step and he’ll end up bleeding. But he can’t help himself.

Gently, because god Steve deserves to be handled with care, he shifts his thumb to trail across his bottom lip. He feels the shuddering inhale as Steve parts his lips, opens up so pretty for Eddie.

And Eddie is hypnotized. Powerless to prevent himself from swaying in closer. He stops only an inch away.

“Can I kiss you?”

—

The words barely escape before Steve closes the gap. He feels the hand Eddie’s not using to hold him self up slide back to his jaw to cradle his face. Eddie’s lips part against his, tongue sliding in to meet Steve’s.

Steve’s own fingers tangle in that wild mane of hair, pulling him down closer. He feels out of control, never thought he could have this. He isn’t sure how long he will. So he wants it all. He moves one hand down to slide up under Eddie’s shirt, desperate to touch.

—

Eddie pulls back, trying to hold onto his senses against the whirlwind beneath him. Steve may be into men, which is making his brain short circuit, but Eddie’s still pretty sure he’s never been with one.

“Easy, easy baby. Steve…I would be perfectly happy to spend the night kissing you. Hell I’m thrilled just to fall asleep next to you. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Steve slides both hands to his back, gripping his shirt desperately like he thinks Eddie’s going to make a run for it. “I want you.”

“I want you too. I want you so fucking much, you have no idea. But wanting something an being ready for it aren’t the same thing.”

“I mean it’s not like I’m a virgin—“

“Steve. Being ok with one thing with one person doesn’t mean you’re ok with anything else with anyone else. Listen” he presses a quick gentle kiss to Steve’s lips, trying to tamp down the rage he feels building at the though that no one had asked Steve how he felt, if he was ok, if he wanted things to keep going…”Baby I’m not going anywhere. We can take this as slow as you need.”

“This isn’t…I mean, we haven’t…how do you know you’ll want to do it again?”

Eddie’s heart aches when he sees the look on the face below him. Resigned, scared, hurting. Fuck, did Steve think this was some one off fling? As if Eddie could even think of walking away.

He’d do anything for this man, anything to wipe the pain from his eyes. So putting his heart on the line…well, he’d rather break himself than let Steve hurt.

“Oh sweetheart…don’t you know I’m so fucking gone on you? We could never do more than kiss and I’d still be here. This is about so much more than sex. What do you want right now?”

There was a look of awe shining back at him. Maybe his heart was safe after all. “Could we…” Steve’s face was pink as he looked away.

Eddie tips his chin up once more so their eyes meet. “I may not say yes, but you’ve gotta know nothing you ask for could scare me away from you baby. Just ask.”

“I want…I just want to feel you. Please.” He thrusts up to make his point.

Normally Eddie requires a bit more of a direct request, but he can work with this.

“That’s a good boy.” He grins as hears Steve’s breath hitch. God this man is going to be the end of him. “One condition.”

“Anything.”

“At any point you want to stop, you say stop. You want to slow down, you say so. Do not for a second put what you think I want above your needs. Because what I want more than anything is to take care of you. To make you feel good. Do you understand?” He needs Steve to know his consent matters too, that he matters. Always.

Steve nods.

“I need you to say the words baby. I need to know you really hear me.”

“I understand. I won’t do anything I’m not 100% sure I want to do.”

“So good for me, Princess.” He leans down to press a biting kiss to that pretty blush as it travels down his neck. Then he pushes Steve’s shirt up so he can finally see how far down it goes.

Steve is quick to sit up and remove his shirt entirely. But when he lays back down, his arms go across his torso and he looks ashamed.

“Hey gorgeous, why are you hiding from me?” He trails a finger down one arm gently.

“I just…scars. The bats…they didn’t heal good.”

“Oh Steve…you’re fucking perfect. Don’t for a second think any scar could change that. Look, we match.” He lifts his shirt and gestures down to his own side.

Steve glances down at the scar from the wound that almost killed him. One arm uncurls from its protective hold so he can touch. Eddie inhales sharply at the sensation. The hand jerks back.

“I’m sorry-“

“Shh babe it’s fine, it doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s just…sensitive. Feels nice, actually.” He grins. “Pretty sure you could touch me anywhere and it would feel good.”

Steve finally moves both arms, no longer hiding his body from view. And oh what a view it is. Eddie remembers the fleeting glimpses he took when Steve stripped his shirt off to check out Water Gate, but he had tried not to stare too hard. His memory pales in comparison to the gorgeous man beneath him. He feels fingers trailing up his torso as Steve bites his lip.

Taking the hint, he leans back to tug his own shirt fully off.

—

Steve is staring. He’s allowed to do that now. And he can’t help but be captivated by the man above him. It’s hard to hold on to his insecurity when he realizes how he feels looking at Eddie’s scars. It’s a complicated mix of emotions. Part of him feels sad seeing the evidence left behind from that night. There’s relief because he’s still here, those wounds got the chance to heal into these scars. There’s awe at the bravery. Eddie may feel like a coward for running before, but the second there was something he could actually do he was a hero.

Then there’s the other feelings. The fire in his belly. He’s never been one to find scars sexy and he really shouldn’t now. But Eddie is magnificent. And these marks on his skin do nothing to detract from his beauty. They enhance it. Show how strong he is, a reminder of all he’s overcome.

When he finally drags his gaze back up to meet Eddie’s, he’s faced with a predatory grin. It sends delightful chills down his spine. Oh how he wants to be devoured.

He pushes himself up, gets his hands back into that lovely mane of curls and pulls Eddie to him. He is on fire, could melt from the heat of the mouth that collides with his. The soft, gentle kiss from before is gone. Eddie kisses like his life depends on it, nipping teeth and curling tongue. Steve has never been kissed like this and it leaves him reeling.

He is gasping for breath, collapsing back into the pillows when those teeth trail down to his neck. His hips thrust up and he moans when he brushes against hardness. Eddie lifts his own hips up and away. “Oh god…Eddie.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

A biting kiss where his neck meets his shoulder is followed by a soothing tongue. “Yes, baby?”

“Please! I need…” He can’t find the words, he is lost.

“Mmmm, go on. Tell me what you need sweetheart. Let me hear you.” Steve whines in response. “That’s very pretty, but I need words.”

“Please, god, please…I need…just touch me.”

He is rewarded with thigh pressed between his legs, giving him a delicious pressure to rub against. It’s good, it’s so good, but it’s not enough. He fumbles with the button to Eddie’s pants, pausing for permission.

—

Eddie almost laughs and Steve’s hesitation, like he would ever say no to him. He nods his consent, then helps get his pants down his legs and kicks them off. Then reaches to do the same for Steve.

When there’s nothing but two thin layers of cloth separating them, it’s his turn to pause.

“Are you sure about this?”

Steve lets out another one of those delicious little whines. “God yes, please don’t stop.”

Eddie nips that pretty little pouting mouth. This man will be the death of him, he’s sure of it. But oh what a way to go.

He slips his hand beneath the waistband of Steve’s boxers, trailing across his hip. Steve lifts up, almost daring Eddie to slide them down. Eddie’s never been very good at resisting temptation. He gives in to the challenge easily, moaning at the glorious sight. Steve has the prettiest cock he’s ever seen.

Eddie’s known he was gay for a long time, and he’s had his fair share of hookups. He’s given blowjobs before and enjoyed bringing his partner pleasure. But he’s never been particularly into the act itself. So he’s a bit surprised at the overwhelming desire to get his mouth on the man below him.

He puts the thoughts aside to explore another time. For now he slides his own boxers off and rolls his hips down, finally feeling skin against skin.

—

Steve had worried, just a little, that being with a man would scare him. He wanted Eddie so bad, but he feared the reality of it would overwhelm him. It does, but not at all in a bad way. Eddie is undeniably masculine, all angles and hardness where the girls he’s been with were curves and softness.

Rather than being distressed, he is toe-curlingly turned on. When he feels Eddie take both of them in hand, he almost blacks out. He bites his lip to contain the noises that try to escape him.

“Don’t hold back, gorgeous, let me hear those pretty sounds.” He moans, unable to deny Eddie anything.

“Fuck. Eddie.”

Steve whines when Eddie lets go, only to sigh in relief when he licks his palm before getting them back in his hand. He seems to be doing his best to wring as many noises out of Steve as possible.

It doesn’t take very long for him to be close.

“Gonna come for me pretty boy? Go on, let me see you.”

That’s all it takes for him to be releasing all over Eddie. The feel of it seems to be enough for Eddie to follow him.

When he returns to his body, Eddie is already cleaning them both up. Gentle, he’s always so gentle. He’s also avoiding Steve’s eyes and looks nervous.

—

Eddie’s cursing himself for not talking this through a bit more before diving in head first. Robin said she didn’t think Steve knew how to do casual, but what if she was wrong?

It will destroy him to be a casual fling for Steve.

“Eddie? What’s wrong? Do you…was that bad? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby, not at all. That was amazing. You’re amazing. I just…we should probably talk. About what that means going forward.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…what do you want, Stevie? What do you want from me?”

Steve furrows his brow and under normal circumstances he’d find the confusion adorable but right now it just makes his heart ache.

“I want everything.”

“Everything?”

“Eddie, I…I love you. It’s ok if that’s not how you feel but yeah I want everything. I want to be with you.”

He can’t stop the giddy laughter that explodes out of him. He tries to calm down when he sees the shocked hurt on Steve’s face.

“No! I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you sweetheart. I love you so much it fucking hurts. I just…Jesus, Steve I thought you were straight. I thought platonic cuddle buddies was the best thing I could ever have. This is just…more than I could have ever hoped for.”

“I do like girls. Turns out I like both. Robin says I’m bisexual. I guess I’ve noticed other guys before but you…you’re the first guy I’ve ever wanted. Scared the shit out of me. Especially once I moved in here. You’re my person, Eddie. You’re so fucking important to me and I was terrified of losing you. I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Me either. Steve listen…I want to be with you, so bad. But I need you to know…no matter what I’ll always be here for you. I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life, but if that doesn’t happen I will always be your friend. Always.”

He means it, from the bottom of his heart.

—

Things aren’t magically perfect after that. Steve’s nightmares are fading, but they still happen. They get into fights, and Steve sleeps in the guest room. But so far each time one of them will crawl into bed with the other in the middle of the night, whispered apologies and they fix it.

Steve still hasn’t told his parents he’s moved out, and they haven’t been home to notice.

They haven’t told their friends yet, haven’t even come out to them. But Robin knows and she helps them hide it until they’re ready to share it with everyone else.

So it’s not perfect, but it’s theirs. And they’re both happier than they’ve ever been. That’s all that matters.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #my writing #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #eddie Munson lives #hurt/comfort

268 notes · View notes

fuck-customers · 1 year

Note

This is a fuck coworkers.

I work overnight at a convenience store. In recent weeks, we've lost a lot of our staff for various reasons. One person's out on medical leave, our old assistant manager found a new job and quit, and a third person was fired for giving out free cigarettes. A fourth person is transferring pretty soon, and our part timer who works in the early mornings has a history of flakiness, which just leaves me, the store manager, and the new assistant manager who's being trained from scratch. We're all overworked and we're all fucking sick of it. Which is why I was totally okay with my manager taking a weekend to himself after working nearly 3 weeks straight with no days off.

We knew about this long beforehand. There were no surprises. We had a plan: since I know bits and pieces of the manager's duties, I was going to help our assistant while bossman was out of town. He gets his weekend, and I get to actually go home before the sun comes up for once, which has been a struggle ever since the clocks changed. Win win. But THEN, the day before my manager leaves, our assistant manager calls off due to COVID. Now, the veracity of her claim is up in the air. My boss thinks the timing was no coincidence, and that she's probably a bit nervous about having to do his duties while he's away, but she presented proof of a positive test, so the higher ups have to give her PTO just in case. Bossman's obviously disappointed, but not discouraged. He puts together a last minute plan in which the part timer comes in to relieve me at 7 am, and leaves me to do the manager's stuff all by myself. I'd just have to call someone from a different store to help me with the paperwork. No biggie. One small problem: remember how I said our part timer has a history of flakiness? Yeah. I wasn't having that.

I've been flaked on by her many, many times in the past, and I wasn't about to wait until lunchtime to get off work (leaving a store that's supposed to be open 24/7/365 unattended would get me fired, so I'm stuck there until someone comes to relieve me). So I call the district supervisor and I ask her to send someone to help me with the paperwork that morning. However, she tells me that my manager will be there that morning, when I know FOR A FACT that he won't. He told me himself, but he DID NOT tell HIS boss, which is inarguably more important. So now, I was backed into a corner, and I spilled the beans and told her what his plan was. I emphasized that I was worried that I wouldn't get off till much later, because, you know, flakes, and told her if nobody came to relieve me before 7 am, I wouldn't be able to work the following night because I'd need to waste a whole day catching up on sleep. Perfectly reasonable thing to be concerned about, right?

She understands, but now my manager's upset with me because she's blowing up his phone, because he failed to tell her he'd be taking that extra day off. Now, I know district managers are typically harder on store managers than us regular cashiers, but requesting two days is perfectly reasonable and he had a backup plan. There was no reason not to at least TELL her, and she would have found out regardless.

Anyway, she agrees to come in and help me with the paperwork, so I still get to go home at a reasonable time like I planned, but I still feel bad, so I put in a good word for my manager in an attempt to save his ass. I tell her it's just a stroke of bad luck that his store is in such disrepair, which, yeah, honestly it is. Losing half your employees in 2 weeks is bad luck, plain and simple, and while I agreed that my manager needed his days off, it really feels like I'm left to clean up everyone else's mess. And now I feel like a pariah at work because I was never made aware that he didn't tell his boss the truth, and that I wasn't about to rely on someone I knew I couldn't solely on her word. But whatever. I'm not gonna be at this job forever, at least.

47 notes · View notes

wandixx · 2 months

Text

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies

All work words count: 14 593

Words in this part: 2 224

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay Or Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: First meeting and training discussions Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

Duke was running out of fumes to run on. Last few days would be exhausting if it was just vigilante or just civilian stuff but no, he had to have it both. Because of Arkham break out he had been called in three nights in a row, not for a whole patrol but he couldn't exactly sleep it of during the day like others did, especially not in a week when every teacher decided they need to have test or quiz or what not. Naps meant he wasn't as sleep deprived as he could be but he needed far more. But he couldn't because crime in Gotham never sleeps so he had normal patrol to finish and there were about two ours left.

Would something bad happen if he just stopped for a moment and laid on a roof? Ten up to fifteen minutes. It was a slow day too...

Yeah, no, he deserved a moment to rest and if something disastrous was to happen in the meantime he would shame other Bats for not giving him enough time to sleep.

It certainly said something that he found gravel covering this roof to be quite comfortable. He set a timer for ten minutes and let himself close his eyes.

When loud screech of timer jolted him awake, he was suddenly fully aware that he wasn't alone anymore. He sat up a little too quickly.

"Oh, you're awake," white haired girl around Damian's age chimed, sitting cross legged just few feets away from him. She wore something that could only be described as an unholy mix of lab safety hazmat and skintight workout jumpsuit, white and black. When had Gotham gotten a new vigilante? "Good, I just returned from snack hunt," she added, gesturing at a big textile bag lying next to her. Duke didn't have enough brainpower to do anything more than ask.

"What?"

Girl shrugged, take out from BatBurger in her hand.

"You look like you have a bad day if not few days, so I've got you my cousin's bad day combo or at least closest thing I could. BatBurger burger isn't as good as NastyBurger but you certainly have better fries," as she spoke, second take out bag, 1 quart bottle of energy drink, juice bottle of same size and pack of convenience store brownies joined greasy paper bag sealed with a sticker.

"Is your cousin a speedster?" Excuse Duke, it was a totally valid question, he saw with his bare eyes both Wally West and Bart Allen when they visited Manor. Noone else would be able to stomach the amount of food they inhaled during their stays.

"Nah, we're not that fast or that hungry. Though I think I may get closer to speed of sound," So, clearly a meta if white hair and weir aura that let his eyes rest weren't enough indication "My cousin when he has bad few days he often forgets to eat so this combo has to help with there too. But I'll steal your fries of course."

Duke was not going to look gift horse in teeth, so he grabbed one bag and tore it open. There was classic combo with bigger fries and NightWings inside.

"Thank you..." he trailed off, hoping that girl would take a clue and introduce herself but she didn't. She just drowned her fries in ketchup and started munching. She had her own juice.

"My cousin always said that each part of this combo has different purpose," she explained instead, slightly muffled because of fries in her mouth, "This" she gestured towards fast food meal "is to sooth your stomach. This "she tapped energy drink "is to sooth your brain and kick it back online. This "she raised bottle of juice, "is to sooth your taste buds because energy drinks are war crime against them and this "she nudged brownies "is to sooth your heart because Ancients damn it, this day is awful and you deserve it. At least that's what he told me when I had day bad enough to deserve that," she shrugged, licking ketchup of her finger. Suddenly she froze "You aren't allergic, are you?

"No, I'm not," he confessed bewildered.

"Good"

For a long moment they sat in silence, devouring food the little girl brought. Duke distantly wondered if this was how night shift spent their snack breaks. It felt nice.

He was finishing his part of brownies when girl spoke up again.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah" he was a little surprised to realize that it was true. He'll have to note down what she put in this 'bad day combo'. "Thank you"

"Don't mention it," she shrugged with general gesture of dismissal, "You're one of my cousin's favorite heroes because you're vaguely his age and handle Gotham alone during the day and I quote, "she did honest to God air quotes at that" 'As only hero in Amity-' which is a lie by the way, Val is doing great and even if he suddenly got problem with how she feels about his alter ego, he still has Sam and Tuck even if they're usually more of moral support. And I helped when I visited, so no, he isn't only one. Anyway as he said 'As only hero in Amity, my heart goes out for anyone who deals with this type of bullshit so Dani if you absolutely have to prank heroes, leave them out of it, especially Signal, he can't be older than Jazz, he doesn't need any more mess to handle.' All aliens and lanterns are also off limits because he is a space nerd. But you aren't space related so I'm like 80% percent sure he has celebrity crush on you," she slurped more juice, unbothered.

Duke was thankful he wasn't swallowing anything because for sure she would choke. He took split second to consider addressing... this whole situation and choose not to. He was not ready to be anyone's celebrity crush.

"Your name is Danny?" he asked instead.

"Dani" she corrected" with an I"

"Ok. It's nice to meet you Dani-with-an-I," She giggled, nodding her head slightly.

"It's nice to meet you too Signal"

Duke stood up, stretching a little. Dani joined him after hastily putting all the trash in her bag. She was a little higher than expected.

"I have to get back to my patrol"

"Cool," she drifted back a bit, making him realize that she was floating a few inches above the ground. She fixed her bag on her arm.

"Hey, can I hang out a little bit more? My cousin will go green out of jealousy when I tell him," she added with a mischievous smirk but Duke could tell there was more to it. He took a moment to consider it, which apparently made girl nervous "I can be invisible the whole time, like before," she offered, disappearing in the meantime. He could still tell where she was, because of her heat signature and other waves she excluded but for regular people she would be no different than surrounding air.

"Yeah, you can hang around and you don't have to be invisible. Just don't get in my way when I have to actually do some fighting."

She popped back to visible spectrum and pouted like Damian whenever he got benched.

"I can fight, y'know? I stopped mugging on a snack run."

It was ten god damn minutes, how could she get so much food and stop mugging in such a short time?!

Oh, right, superspeed. Still, impressive.

"I haven't seen it-" he started, channeling all Dick-trying-to-wrangle-Damian-into-socially-acceptable-activity energy he could muster "-so I don't know how you fight or even what powers do you have. If we tried to fight together we would trip over each other" It was a bare faced lie, Bat training made sure of that but he knew for fact that if he said anything else, the girl would be mad and probably did her own thing.

Was that what Bruce thought about all of them?

Oh no.

Dani still looked displeased but after a moment of consideration she nodded with a defeated sigh.

Suddenly she straightened like she got struck by lightning and whipped around.

"Wha-"

She just shushed, raising finger to her mouth. Duke did indeed quietened.

"I have enhanced hearing," she whispered "There is a mugging somewhere this way."

"Let's go then," he shot his grapple, waving his other hand at Dani to come with him before he jumped off the roof. He heard the girl giggle as she flew right after him.

"After this you'll show me the coolest gargoyles, okay? Sam asked for photos"

"Okay"

It seemed that the end of this patrol wouldn't be as bad as the start was. Hopefully.

And afterwards he was going to lock himself in his room until sky falls down or he was well rested.

Yeah, that was a good plan.

********

"Hey kid," Signal started, dropping from fire escape to cuff weirdo in clown mask who Dani just fought. He did it deliberately slowly to show her how to do it like he always did. She choose to not be to annoyed at being called kid again and noted to herself to come up with good codename later. All her previous ideas apparently weren't cutting it and she couldn't keep going by Dani because reasons.

"Yes?"

"Who gave you a combat training?" he asked getting up from a crouch and gesturing towards roof. So it's going to be longer talk, okay.

"My cousin," well, Flashes in Central taught her some stuff but it was more rescue and reassure type of deal not punch and kick, Sam tried to get her through basics of psychological warfare in activism, Tucker sweared he would teach her some programming and hacking but never got around to it, Jazz did some emotional training and Val offered to teach her Red Huntress skills when she got back, but yeah, all in all, Danny was the one to show her how to punch people. Even though it was more of 'shit we have to fight, observe maybe, idk' most of the time. She picked some tricks from Vlad too now that she thought about it, not that she planned to give him any credit for it, like, ever. "Why?"

"I have a bone to pick with him," vigilante announced, melting with the shadows. Dani sped as much as she could to beat him to the roof. She was competitive spirit like that.

Unfortunately he was first. She made another note to herself (she was so going to forget them in next five to ten minutes) to train her speed a bit more. She got tips from the guy with the title of The Fastest Man Alive for crying out loud, she shouldn't loose with the person who technically doesn't even have superspeed!

Signal sat cross legged on the gravel and tossed her a healthy granola bar. He kept doing it for some reason.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but almost everything in your fighting technique is horrible. Your cousin did shitty job as a teacher" he started in warm slightly teasing tone. Dani felt attacked anyway.

"It's not like he has any sort of training either," she started, trying to sound nonchalant, rolling her eyes. "Cut him some slack," She bit a snack in attempt to cover her furry. It had chocolate and raspberries, was quite tasty and she was kinda hungry anyway. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how Signal knew it though "Everything he learned is from the trial and error by crashing through a few walls. Quite hard to care about 'technique'. I at least got his mistakes to learn from so don't you dare to speak about him like that!" alright, she lost it, she can admit it. But, Signal might be cool and Danny may or may not like him (she hoped he didn't, Val was much better option) but Gotham's hero had no right to say anything bad about her template. He didn't know anything. He didn't understand.

Signal looked like he was going to say something so she put her ghostly vocal cords to use and growled.

Don't-harm-family/will-fight/ protect-mine/don't-you-dare

She didn't stop to consider how unlikely it was for him to understand her. She crossed her hands on her chest, glaring.

Turned out, growl was enough of the warning. He carefully picked his next words.

"Sorry, it's not the way I should've phrase it," he started, his mouth doing the thing it did when people were embarrassed with themselves but in an uncomfortable, a bit angry way. He understood his mistake, good. She calmed her glare a bit. "I wasn't aware of you circumstances. If you want, I can show you some tricks, Batman is very throughout with his training"

"No, thank you, I'm good" she was still mad. So mad. And she was not pouting.

"Of course you're good but you can be better, more efficient."

"No." Whatever Signal would propose to her, she wouldn't agree. He said mean things about Danny not even a minute before. She couldn't let him have it on a principle!

"I'll give you a cookie after every training," he pleaded "The homemade, tasty one"

Well, that changed things. A lot of things.

"Yes please!"

He apologized anyway.

********************

Second part

I know democratic winner in poll for now is "publish all at once" and believe me, I respect democracy, especially now that I finally have rights to do things, but Tumblr wouldn't let me. Too long or something. So, it'll be in parts, sorry guys. I'll try to post all of the parts this weekend though (or one each day, I'll see).

Yes, I didn't have a name for this fic until five minutes ago, how did you know? It's quite alright though, I think. If you have better idea I may reconsider

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dani hangs out with duke #signal got new sidekick and he doesn't even know it yet #not fully at least #Dani: I'm going Goth(am)#Danny: Maybe don't?#Dani: Nah #Danny: Stay safe?#Dani: Alright *imprints on the first hero she sees*#this random mugger Dani stopped: Last thing I saw was feral racoon child #police officer: what?#almost mugging victim: I was saved by said feral racoon child #police officer: What?!#Dani: Alright. Good deed for today done. They're calling my name in BatBurger to get my stuff. See ya!#Dani: I hope I can make it back before Signal wakes up #Police guy&mugger&victim: Did she kidnap our hero???#Dani: *fights*#Duke: With all due respect. How did you survive this long?! *died inside a little bit from stress*#wandixx writes #ghost of fries and hero of cookies #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

213 notes · View notes