#i feel horrible for him he’s had such a hell season | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wexhappyxfew · 3 days

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Oooh, those prompts sure do look amazing… the touch one??? I’m so unsure on which one I might be in a crisis….

Soo… after muuuch deliberation, may ask about nr. 17 (holding the other’s chin up) with my girl Carrie? (I have to stay loyal to her, though I love all the other Silver Bullets girls equally)

Thank you 💖

- Carrie anon

carrie anon my apologies for how incredibly late this is (along with the other prompts sitting in the askbox lol) finals season will forever be a struggle lmao. BUT! i'm taking a mental break and here we are with a piece for my beans, carrie x dougie, carrie anon!! :D VERY excited to post this, we get a bit more with carrie's feelings as she's pretty good at hiding them (but not great with hiding them lol). so please enjoy!!

bergie doesn't strike out

(a/n): for the carrie x dougie girlies because this prompt i enjoyed and i figured i'd add some more to carrie's background - a struggle to fit in, to feel wanted, in a time of war. yeah, she's going through it to say the least and in some way, we all can get why :'( please enjoy!

Carrie watched from behind her shot glass as James Douglass waltzed over to the congregating group of Clubmobile girls and talked his talk, pulling out his lighter and offering to light up cigarettes, only before making quite the show of winking and meandering away back towards where he had been previously stood with Hambone and Murphy. She watched him let out a barking laugh before pointing to their cups and nodding to the bar. And that's when he started waltzing over to the bar, where she was stood, rather enjoying her stare-down with her shot glass instead of having to focus on him.

"Carrie Achterbeg, haven't seen you in a minute." she heard him say as he approached - which albeit was the truth. She hadn't come out to one of these in a couple of weeks. After that awkward misunderstanding with one of the guys from the 418th - radio operator, kind eyes, but horrible ego - after he had tried to plant one on her, she didn't want anything to do with the flying club, drinks and pilots. Tonight though was different. And after those last few missions, she needed some sort of melancholy distraction, even if it were a shot or two stood alone at the bar.

"Aren't you a sight for sore ey-" Carrie glanced over at James Douglass and shoved him in the shoulder roughly before throwing back her shot and sighing.

"Don't finish that sentence." she managed out, coughing briefly and then looked at him.

"Dually noted." Dougie said, before leaning up on the bar next to her and watching the side of her face, "What's eating you?" Carrie let out a dry laugh and looked over at him.

"I should be asking you the same thing," she said, before lowering your voice, "struck out, huh?" Dougie raised a brow in her direction and she nodded over his shoulder.

"Tatty, Helen, Virginia…." Carrie said, "Christ, Dougie, you struck out and you struck out hard." Dougie rolled his eyes and leaned more against the bar and nodded to the tender.

"Struck out is a strong word to use in that sense-"

"Sure as hell is currently the right word-"

"There's other words-"

"Struck out is as good as it comes." Carrie said to him and he took the beer from the tender and sighed, before taking a long sip. She watched him for a moment, biting the inside of her lip and then glanced back at her empty shot glass.

She was just punchy, she wasn't in the best of moods, and James Douglass was beginning to grow on her in ways she hadn't expected nor entirely wanted. And her mind was trying to ignore it.

"Why haven't you been coming recently?" Dougie asked her as he casually sipped on his beer, eyes wandering out to the dance floor and then back to her, before grinning wide, "Hambone's been missing ya." Carrie sighed and then stood up straighter and pushed her hair behind her ears and glanced at him.

"Personal choice." she said and then shrugged as she looked out towards the dance floor again, "You missing me, too? You seemed real tangled up with those guys over there. Surprised you came over to say hello." She raised a brow at him and he shrugged her off. Watching him, she then turned, only to be stopped by his arm jutting out.

"Where you going?"

"Just taking a lap around," she said with a shrug, "talk to some people I haven't seen before, ya know, get eyes on everyone." He watched her, a mixture of adornment it seemed and surprise, as she straightened her jacket and then looked at him.

"Everything look good?" she asked him, holding out her arms like she was about to go off on her first day at school and wanted her uniform in check. Dougie held her gaze for a moment before he let his eyes wash down her form and then back up to her face again. Carrie watched him, her collar turning hot as he took a slow sip and let his eyes rest on hers again, that lazy smile growing on his face as he nodded.

"Good is a strong word-"

"Dougie, don't you dare." Carrie muttered, a small smile growing on her face as she shoved at his shoulder, and repositioned herself, hands on her hips and sighed, "Seriously." For a moment, they just watched each other and it should've felt awkward, but in all actuality - it wasn't. And knowing that he was looking at her that fondly almost made her want to stay and talk to him more. But she wasn't like that it seemed.

"You look great," Dougie said, his voice strained as he nodded, "don't let none of those fools do anything funny, alright?" Now, it was Carrie's turn to let out a laugh and raise her brow.

"Since when did you care?" she asked quickly, crossing her arms, "'Cause three weeks ago, I had that stupid radio operator from the 418th practically down my throat and you barely batted an eye." A few onlookers glanced towards the two and it took Carrie a few moments to recognize how loud she had gotten and suddenly emotional in her words. And why did she care if Dougie had barely batted an eye? He shouldn't have needed to. They weren't technically even friends, just a joke or two here and there, some teasing and good-natured tomfoolery, but nothing more. Why did she care that he should care? Carrie sighed. Dougie looked up at her with those big, slightly worried eyes and bit back his lip before nodding.

"Well, now that you've made me aware of that, maybe I will bat an eye next time." Dougie said, looking up at her as his fingers danced against the cool mug of beer, "Who the hell was it?" Carrie stared at him and then blinked slowly.

"It doesn't matter-"

"That's why you didn't come-"

"Dougie-"

"Because he had-"

"Dougie." Carrie said, stepping closer to him, and holding his gaze right in her own, her hand ghosting over his arm as if to latch onto him, but failing to do so, "Let it go. It's over now."

"You brought it up." Dougie said back quickly, but she stopped him with a shake of the head. But then she stood quiet for a moment and let her thoughts grow. She had brought it up. Almost as if she had wanted him to know. Because no one had known. Because she'd been embarrassed that she let herself think that maybe that was a good guy, someone she could live a life with and all he had wanted was a kiss. It was a stupid thought.

"Who was it, Carrie, seriously?" Dougie asked her as she balled up her fists and looked anywhere but his face, which she knew had a look on it that would make her lose it, "A guy from the 418th, huh? He ever heard about a thing called messing with the bull, you damn well be getting the horns-"

"Shh, keep your voice down!" Carrie muttered, bringing a finger in front of her mouth and looking at him with wide eyes, "He was just some jackass that thought I was there to have a good time and that was it." Dougie grew quiet as he watched her. Whatever it was between them seemed to simmer and they both seemed to understand in that minute what she meant. But she wouldn't dare actually say why she had even bothered kissing the guy, or why Dougie was looking at her like that.

"He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Dougie said, his voice softer than it normally was, that look in his eye deeper and darker, "I know a guy-"

"No." Carrie said, her cheeks scarlet, "It was just a stupid kiss, that's it. It's over. I just….I was trying to avoid the situation again and…." She trailed off. She was over talking about it to be completely honest. She looked up at him.

"I'm fine." she said with an honest nod, "Thank you for your…..concern." Dougie watched her, with a slow nod and licked his lips, like he was still digesting her words in their entirety. He didn't say much, he just watched her and she didn't entirely want to complain about that because for one, his eyes were some of the kindness she'd probably seen on this side of the world. And for once, they were eyes that looked at her in a way other guys didn't.

"Just…go have some fun," Dougie said quietly, "give me a look if a guy does something stupid, alright?" And she nodded and looked up at him, as he smiled softly at her, his eyes darting over her own endless blue ones, an abyss of dampened sea and darkened souls. Lost and harrowing. He leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice.

"Don't strike out." he said with a small chuckle and she looked up at him and brought her pointer finger underneath his chin and prodded him lightly to meet her gaze, before whispering back just as quietly.

"Bergie doesn't strike out."

#masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #carrie achterberg #james douglass #carrie x dougie #THEMMMMM #when you can tell they both want to say things to each other but they can't bc they've never crossed that line before #dougie saying she looks great and willing to defend her like bro i WILL just go cry in a corner fr #THEM #i will forever fangirl over these two bc they are absolutely INSANEEE #me yelling from the corner 'just say you like each other and get it over with !!!!'#this is earlier days of them knowing each other but the chemistry is all the same #please enjoy!

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strollonso · 8 months

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via aston martin’s instagram (x)

#lance stroll #formula 1 #singapore grand prix #IM SOO SAD BUT IT MAKES SENSE MY POOR BBG PLEAAAASE #he deserves the world #i hope he’s okay #i feel horrible for him he’s had such a hell season #im just not gonna watch the race in solidarity 😔

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youngpettyqueen · 1 year

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The Joker is Wild is an episode that really doesnt work where it is in the show

the idea that BJ is set off by like. jealous rage or whatever over Hawkeye comparing him to Trapper just doesnt work so late in the show when there's been 0 indication that BJ is jealous about Trapper at all. it feels like it comes out of nowhere, just a half-assed sort of reason given to set him off

ive mentioned this before here and I know its a hot take within this fandom but the supposed Trapper Complex just doesnt exist. in the 8 seasons that BJ is present in the show, I can think of three times Trapper's name comes up around him

Period of Adjustment, where he brings up that he feels like he hates Trapper. should be noted that BJ here is at about the lowest point we see him at, he's in complete despair, and he's also blind drunk. he also specifically brings up that he feels this way because Trapper has gone home- it has nothing to do with Hawkeye

Depressing News, Hawkeye refers to BJ as being the 'same size, same shape' as Trapper, and BJ's reaction can be construed as being not exactly pleased about it. I think this reads more as him just not being happy about literally being called Trapper's replacement, not him being jealous

then, of course, The Joker is Wild

because of this it really just doesnt make sense for BJ to suddenly have this jealousy in The Joker is Wild, not this late in the show. it would've honestly worked so much better if this episode happened back in season 4, because then you could've made that jealousy believable with BJ still establishing himself in camp and Hawkeye still dealing with Trapper's departure. but as it is, set in season 11, it really just doesnt work. its such a He Would Not Fucking Say That episode

#mash #bj hunnicutt #its one of those episodes I want to rewrite cause I think it had all the potential to be a very very good episode #like I said I would've set it in season 4 #and I would've made it clear that Hawkeye has been comparing BJ to Trapper a lot #and in some not-so-nice ways where he's said Trapper was better at X Trapper's way with Y was better etc #(not done maliciously of course he's grieving his best friend leaving but it still stings)#and BJ finally has enough when the prank thing comes up and Hawkeye is going on about how great it was when it was him and Trapper #so he decides to get back at Hawkeye with a series of escalating pranks #there wouldnt be a bet element here he wouldnt rope anybody else in on it #he's still new he's still establishing himself and this is him just desperately trying to be seen as his own person #not just Trapper's replacement #and finally he goes too far and it blows up in his face somehow #maybe Hawkeye gets hurt #and everyone's rightfully pissed off with BJ about it! he's been mean he's been acting out what the hell is wrong with him?#and BJ feels fucking horrible about it and explains himself and how he's just so sick of feeling like #all anyone sees him as is Trapper's replacement #at this point implying Hawkeye's not the only one who's done the comparing and everyone can reflect on that a bit #BJ then avoids Hawkeye for a few days because he feels so awful about what happened #until Hawkeye hunts him down and forces the conversation to happen #BJ apologizes profusely and says he was being stupid and Hawkeye's like yeah you were being stupid #but he also admits he was stupid to not see what constantly comparing BJ to Trapper was doing #and apologizes for making him feel like he was just a replacement and not his friend #have a real heart to heart about it!! BJ character depth episode!!#it could've been so interesting the potential was there just not in season 11 #a plot line like that just didnt have a place anymore #and im mad about it 40 years later #invents time travel so I can write MASH episodes #anyways.#can you tell I think about this a lot

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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year

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It’s Too Early

Pairing: Charles x Pregnant!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Tough pregnancy, premature birth, PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), IVF mentioned, angst, fluff at the end

Synopsis: Being pregnant hasn’t been easy, especially when Charles is away for the season and can’t be with you 24/7 like he wants to be. So what happens when he finds out you went into labor from a reporter? Chaos, utter chaos

A/N: Wrote this morning and I picked PCOS because that's something I suffer with all the time, and felt the need to write a fic about now, everyone's experience with PCOS and the topics discussed in this are different, I did research and put my own hardships and feelings in this, I hope everyone reads with an open mind and enjoys this but also Dad!Charles who could give up Dad!Charles

Charles would kill for you; he really would. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to kill the FIA, who would refuse to let him sit out this season to be with you, his pregnant wife.

Finding out you were pregnant was the happiest day of his life, but soon it turned...not a nightmare, but a living hell. You were classified as a high-risk pregnancy due to polycystic ovarian syndrome, something you let Charles know when you first started dating.

He was there through the painful periods, the cramps that left you defenseless and laying in bed all day, to the doctor visits and the mood swings. Through it all, he was still with you and loved you more and more each day.

When you both married and settled down a bit more, the conversation of becoming pregnant came up. Charles knew the risks and had done research before bringing it up with you; he even explored other ways of having children. But you told him you wanted to try naturally and go from there before discussing different ways and seeing what happens.

After 3 years of trying and doing everything, even trying IVF, that damn stick showed that fucking plus sign. You sat in the bathroom for hours just staring at the positive test, and that's precisely how Charles found you when he came home. On the bathroom floor, staring at the test.

He can still feel the tile on his skin as he hugs and kisses you, calming your fears away from the worst thoughts in your head.

It hasn't been an easy pregnancy, from cramps to horrible morning sickness, to the doctors worried you might give birth way too early, even being put on bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy due to worries of preeclampsia. Charles fought hard with the FIA, saying he needed to be with you, but they refused to listen and told him he needed to race. You talked him off the ledge as he called to quit and stay home.

"Charles stop; this is ridiculous. You love racing; you aren't quitting because of me." You groaned, going in circles with your mess of a husband.

"No! What's ridiculous is that the FIA won't even see why my wife has a high-risk pregnancy and that I'm needed home, not driving in goddamn circles!" He snaps, slamming his phone down and pulling his hair.

"Char, breath." You whisper from the bed, in agony, simply because you can't get up and comfort your husband.

Charles, almost sensing your dilemma moves from the end of the bed to laying down next to you, placing his head on your chest, careful of your swollen breasts, knowing how much they've been hurting lately. No words are said as fingers run through his hair to calm him down and stop him from making a huge mistake.

"Charles, I'll have your mother here with me. Me and the baby are going to be okay. Listen, if anything changes, I will call you immediately. You can't miss this; you have a real chance this year and must show the world that Charles Leclerc will be a World Champion." Your words convince him as he lets off that familiar defeated sigh of his, making your smile grow at this.

"Immediately. Do you understand? I don't care if it's stupid like your back itches you call me." He bargains, making you laugh and nod in agreement.

Pascale has been staying with you for only a month, and you finally reached the safe zone, where if you did go into labor, it wouldn't be so dangerous for you or the baby. It was race day, and Charles was in Silverstone, needing to finish P2 or higher to challenge Max for the title.

It was a typical day as Pascale fixed you a light snack as you weren't feeling well, your lower back was hurting, and it felt like your pelvis had its own heartbeat. You didn't think much of it as it was a hot day in Monte Carlo, and you had read in books that it was customary to feel this, so you didn't say anything to Pascale to not worry her. The race was halfway through when the first real cramp startled you to the point you dropped your cup; thankfully, it was rubber, so it didn't break.

"Y/n? Honey, what's wrong?" Pascale was right there in an instant picking up the cup, looking over you.

"Just...a cramp, it's nothing." You mummer rubbing your stomach but flinch from how much it hurts to touch it.

"Y/n, when did this start?" Pascale asks calmly, knowing it was wise to keep you calm and not start to freak out because you might be in early labor.

"Last night, but it's picked up this morning. It's nothing, Pascale, honestly, just the baby moving." You try to reason, not wanting to jump straight to labor.

"Y/n, I'm calling for an ambulance, okay? I think you might be in early labor, and with you being on bed rest, they need to help me, alright." She mummers pushing your hair back, trying everything to keep you calm.

"Okay, okay." You repeat as the cramp passes, and you hear her on the phone telling them everything as you force yourself to pay attention to the race and not to the growing pit in your stomach that you might be in labor.

They get here fast as you breathe through another cramp. Tears start to flutter down your cheeks, the realization of you possibly in labor while Charles isn't here, but in the UK. They ask you question after question and share a look, a look that sets you off.

"No! No! I'm not in labor, okay? I'm just having some cramps, which is normal; I have PCOS; okay, nope, I'm not." You argue as the medics alert the hospital to your condition.

"Mrs. Leclerc, I understand that you are only 29 weeks and you're scared, but right now, you are in early labor, and we need to get you to the hospital as soon as we can, okay?" The friendly medic tries to reason with you, but you refuse to see reason.

"I'm sorry, but no. Charles isn't here; he should be here; I can't do this alone. I'm sorry, but I'm not going anywhere." You argue as Pascale packs your bags and looks over at you.

"Y/n, I know you are scared, but Charles isn't here right now, but he will be okay. I'll call him when the race is over and let him know immediately what's going on. But, please, if you wait, it'll be worse for you and the baby." She can reason with you, finally getting you to the hospital as you try hard to stay calm and not make things worse.

But of course, Pascale could never make the phone call as everyone was too busy keeping you calm.

Charles was on top of the world. He had won Silverstone and was only 4 points behind Max now. Sticky with champagne, he checks his phone, looking for the standard text from you, but not seeing a text from you, he hits dial, calling you. But, you don't pick up, making him call you again, yet again, you don't pick up.

He reasons you must be asleep, knowing you had been super tired lately, and his mother said everything was fine. You're eating normally and just sleeping or reading. He moves and takes a picture of the trophy, telling you he won it for you and the baby and he couldn't wait to get back home to you both. Sadly, he's pulled away from his phone to go do media even though he wants to head to the airport and go home, but he needs to do this first.

Only 4 more hours before heading to the plane, then another 5 to 6 hours before he's back home to you.

He makes it through all 5 interviews before coming to the last one, Pierre on his right and Carlos on his left as they all give their final interviews.

"Charles, amazing race. I have to say that it was fabulous to see you win this and to have your teammate and your childhood best friend up there. It must've been something." The reporter gushes, making Charles smile at how genuine the reporter is.

"Yes, um, having Carlos and Pierre be there next to me was something. I mean, the Red Bulls put up one hell of a fight, but we know not to get too comfortable and that we really need to start pushing it more and more each day so we can close the gap and pull in front of them." Charles smiles.

"Yes, this must be a wonderful day with you; with what winning Silverstone and your wife going into labor, you must be just on top of the world." Charles freezes, hearing the words come out of the reporter's mouth and let's put a nervous laugh.

"I'm sorry? My wife isn't in labor," he argues, starting to fidget and lick his lips.

''Really? Reports are that she went into labor at the start of lap 23 and has been at the hospital, your mother." Having cut the camera, realizing that Charles honestly had no idea.

"Nope, she's not, okay, she's not in labor. She would've called." he snaps, hands fumbling for his phone, trying to call you again. This time, it goes to voicemail, sending his heart plummeting to his feet.

"Alright, that's enough for today." Pierre voices and grabs Charles leading him away from prying eyes as he keeps calling you repeatedly.

"Charles. Charles, stop!" Pierre yells, snatching the phone away as his friend cries. Fear takes over Charles as he starts to imagine the worst. What if something was seriously wrong, and you went into early labor. You're only 29 weeks. That's 6 months. Yes, the baby would be okay, but would you?

"Come on, let's go to the hotel. Get your stuff, and you and I will fly out and call your mom. Okay, let's go." Pierre reasons, dragging his friend away and to the cars trying to calm down Charles.

'Pierre calls Pascale and puts her on the speaker; thankfully, the woman picks up after 3 rings.

"Why the fuck didn't you call me the moment she went into labor? I wouldn't give a damn if I was still in the car. Why didn't you call!" Charles rips out before Pascale can say anything, and Pierre groans, knowing that if the situation was different, the Ferrari driver's mother would bury his ass in the ground.

"Because Charles, I've been trying to keep her calm. She's freaking out because you're not here, and honestly, honey, I forgot, as I was trying to make sure your wife's blood pressure doesn't get worse; now, get here as fast as you can because she's almost fully dilated and she needs you Charles, and she needs you to be calm and strong for her because right now she's not." Pascale hangs up, leaving the car in a stiff eerie silence.

"Get me to the airport as fast as you can," Charles whispers, making Pierre nod to ensure he'd get there.

"I can't do this, Pascale; nope, I'm sorry, but I can't. It hurts too much, please, make it stop." you cry as your mother-in-law soothes you. She tells you Charles is on the way. But that did nothing to comfort you. It only made you more anxious about the fact that this would happen.

"Y/n, I know you're scared but Charles will be here soon, okay? But you can't stop pushing, okay? All these nurses and doctors are here to help you, ow let them." She urges as you scream out from another contraction.

"I want Charles." You sob, collapsing against the bed from exhaustion. This was too much for you, the pain, Charles, and everyone in the room; you can't do this.

"Baby!" A familiar voice cries out as the door swings open, and Charles runs in. His hair is messy, and he looks so bewildered you could kiss him, but all you can do is scream.

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Making Pascale and everyone else jump, Charles just smiles and pushes everyone out of the way to get to your side.

"I'm sorry, I was on a plane, and my phone wasn't working." And lies, not wanting to tell the truth of no one telling him but a reporter that you were in labor.

"You're lucky I'm giving birth right now or so; help me go-" Your words get cut off by another contraction, making you grab Charles's hand and squeeze it so hard he'd thought it'd break.

"Okay, Mrs. Leclerc, we need you to push." the doctor instructs while Pascale slips outside, startled to see half the grid in the hallway.

"Come on, let's give them some privacy." Pascale smiles, wrapping an arm around Pierre as she leads the boys down the hallway.

"I love you," Charles whispers, kissing your forehead, not caring for a minute you are drenched in sweat.

"I love you too, but we're adopting or surrogacy next time." You cry as you get one more contraction, everyone yelling at you to push, and soon your cries are mixed in with smaller ones.

"He's here. He's here." Charles repeats, kissing you all over and making sure you are okay. He wanted to check on his baby, but first, he needed to ensure you were alright.

"It's a boy? We had a little boy." You whimper, leaning into Charles's chest as you cry in relief that everything went as smoothly as possible.

"He's perfect, Y/n, all ten toes and fingers, and god, I love you so much." Charles mummers finally kissing you while the nurse cleans up your son.

"Here you go." the nurse smiles, handing you your son, who cries his little lungs out but soon stops when he's placed on your chest.

"He'll need to go to NICU for just a night so we can go over everything and make sure there are no complications, but after that, he can come down here and stay with you, Momma." the nurse smiles, going back to help make sure your vitals and everything else was good.

'Charles, and you can't help but stare at your little boy while you start to feel that ache and tiredness settle in, but Charles holds you both, his entire world in his arms.

"We need a name," Charles whispers, making you hum in agreement.

"I've got the perfect one. Also, tell Pierre I say thank you for getting you here."

Charles blinks down at you, confused, but you just giggle.

"I can smell his cologne." Making Charles laugh right along with you.

You fell asleep after picking the name, and the nurses follow Charles to the waiting room where everyone is, Pascale the first to see her son.

"Everyone," Charles starts making the others turn their heads, Isa and Carmen gushing at the tiny little baby in Charles's arms.

"Meet Pierre Hervé Jules Leclerc." Charles announces, making everyone laugh as Pierre stands there stunned, looking at his best friend holding his son.

"Really?" Pierre asks, making Charles nod. "Of course, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have gotten here in one piece. Also, Y/n says thank you." Charles smiles but adds, "she could smell your cologne on my clothes." Making everyone laugh at this.

"Can I hold him?" Pascale asks, but Charles shakes his head no.

"Sorry, but he won't be held by anyone but us and the staff for right now; he's got to go to the NICU overnight, and frankly, I want Y/n to get a say who holds him first after us, Mother." Charles smiles, but Pascale just beams, seeing Charles transform before her.

"Say goodbye to all your uncles and aunts, Pierre," Charles whispers, laying him in the trolly as the nurse reassures him that he'll be fine and he can come up and visit if he'd like.

Everyone watches as the Ferrari driver just smiles at his boy and leans down, whispering something to the baby before pulling away and watching the nurses take him a floor up.

"What did you say?" Pierre asks his friend.

"We'd always love and protect him, and he's only allowed to root for Ferrari." He laughs, making Pascale slap her son on the arm, everyone joining in on the laughter, a memory no one would forget.

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norman-fucking-reedus · 3 months

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I’m absolutely obsessed with your writing! I was hoping I could request a one-shot where Daryl and fem!reader are married. They are working on separate outdoor projects but Daryl can’t stop watching the reader throughout the day. The dirtiest thoughts cross his mind as he watches her. Later that evening when they are home and finally alone he recreates all those thoughts with her throughout the night. Daryl has a pleasure and praise kink, includes oral, Daryl loves going down on the reader!

*Set during later Alexandria or Commonweath era (Daryl never goes to France!)

STOP IT RIGHT TF NOW ANON CAUSE WHY HAVENT I THOUGHT OF A PLEASURE KINK. DROOLING RN

Heres me admitting im only on season 9 of TWD so this takes place in Alexandria 😿

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Daryl was going to simply pass away and die.

He hated his own mind for it’s never-ending thoughts, even more so when he had a literal job to be doing. His racing thoughts had been distracting him the whole day, occasionally using the wrong tool, knocking something over, and even almost spilling all the oil at one point.

It was just the way your hips looked, so well rounded in those jeans, shirt clinging to your body as you walked quickly with your own tasks in mind, not noticing your husband’s hardcore staring.

His mind was bursting with thoughts of what horribly dirty things he wanted to do to you. Sometimes he physically can’t wrap his head around how he ended up with someone like you. All Daryl could think about was just how bad he wanted to fuck you, cock already stirring to life in his pants.

No. No. He had to stay focused. He couldn’t be seen not doing his task and also now needed to hide the tent forming in his pants. It was worse that he was out in the open, having been assigned to work on the cars to keep them running longer.

You had been assigned to ask around to see what was needed for the next run, only for some reason you had timed yourself to get to everyone in under an hour, hence your quick pace and focused gaze. Daryl had seen you walk past at least three times, each time you sped past while furiously scribbling on a notepad. He felt like a teenager watching and obsessing over his crush.

God, he was so ready to blow himself up, staring down at under the hood of one of the cars used for runs. He forced his mind to focus on fixing shit instead of wandering off. Rick had been saying that the brakes had been failing, only Daryl couldn’t exactly do much without a jackstand.

He decided to test the car battery instead since it had been having trouble starting. Stepping around the car to the toolbox, he almost tripped as you bumped right into him. “Bulky bitch!” You yelped as you fell down onto your ass, dropping your pen and paper. Daryl gently but quickly pulled you to your feet, picking your stuff up. “Tha’ hell ya runnin’ from girl?” He stepped closer to you, sliding a hand to your waist. “I’m a very busy woman with places to be and times to beat” You rolled your eyes, yet smiled softly at Daryl. “Too busy fer me now?” You nodded, leaning up as if to kiss him but going for his ear instead. “Very busy” You whispered sweetly, placing a faint kiss on his cheek before speeding away again.

Daryl simply stood there with his cock straining harshly against the fabric of his pants, cock pulsating as he could feel himself leaking pre-cum. He should just blow his goddamn brains out, now.

He slammed the hood of the car shut and climbed inside, dropping his head onto the steering wheel. It felt like his head was about to fall off with how many filthy thoughts were flooding in. You were the biggest tease and absolutely knew it, sweat dripping down his face as he tried to silence his brain, hands gripping the steering wheel. He wasn’t about to jerk off inside a car with the clearest windows ever, at that point he might as well do it out in the open.

While Daryl was suffering silently, you were simply serene as you rocked on the porch swing of your house, turning in the list to Rick right before your timer hit fifteen minutes. You toyed with the ring on your finger, smiling down as you thought of how Daryl refused to get you something small. He had found a jewelry shop out on a secret run and spent an hour overthinking and questioning himself before finding the perfect ring. It was a sliver band with clusters of smaller diamonds around a larger one that so happened to be the shape of a skull, matching the one he wore every day. He smashed the glass without a second thought.

You smile fondly, also remembering that the same man was probably struggling to do his work. Getting him super worked up was your favorite thing to do as he basically melted in your hands the second he stepped foot inside.

Speaking of inside, you had stepped in earlier to change out your underwear, switching into a black thong you found. You could practically feel Daryl’s hands roaming your body, shivers running down your spine at the tingling sensation.

Whilst you were enjoying yourself, Daryl was still sitting in the car, staring down at the steering wheel as he tried to focus his mind on anything else, aside from the cocky sway of your hips, and the ghost of your lips against his ears.

He needed to get off badly. The only thing really stopping him were these shitty windows, however he proceeded to begin rubbing his hand on his clothed cock, letting out a shaky moan. Daryl slammed his hands back onto the steering wheel, gripping it tightly as he tried to recenter himself. He thought for a moment, sweat rolling down the back of his neck.

The car door swung open and he kicked it shut behind him, walking quickly to avoid anyone who might wanna talk, quickly making his way back home. He passed Carol, who was sitting out on her swing. She waved and he gave a short wave back, trying his hardest to keep his hard-on concealed as he sped past.

He stepped heavily up the stairs, the wooden porch creaking under his weight as he opened and shut the front door. It was remotely quiet as he kicked his shoes off next to yours, tearing his shirt off as he stomped upstairs to your shared bedroom, where he found you in one of his shirts lying on your stomach reading a book, closing it at the sound of your husband's arrival. “Already stripping nude for me, Dixon?” You pushed yourself onto your knees and he approached the bed, grabbing your face rougher than intended and crashing his lips onto yours.

It seemed like in that moment, Daryl’s hyperactive mind finally shut itself down, his shoulders relaxing as his hands held your soft face, licking into your mouth desperately. Your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers splayed out on his upper back as he moved to join you on the bed, readjusting you so your legs rested comfortably on either side of his hips. There was a burning desire in his gut as he sucked harshly on your skin, grinding against you as he did.

Daryl’s hands stayed locked at your hips, massaging and groping the flesh as he continued marking up your whole body, practically eating you. He reached your boobs and ran his tongue over the right one and started to suck deep marks into the sensitive flesh.

His hips picked up speed, becoming erratic before burying his face in space between your boobs, shaking as he literally came in his pants. It was the hottest thing you’d seen. “Feeling better?” You whispered breathlessly, watching him groan and lift himself sluggishly off your chest. “M’not done yet” His words were slightly slurred as he leaned back on his knees, hands fumbling to undo his pants.

You eventually reached down to unzip his zipper, and he was back on you instantly, shoving his boxers down enough to free his hard and dripping cock, precum pouring from the puffy tip. “God, Daryl, you’re so needy tonight” You moaned as he pulled down your pajama shorts, eyes staring down at the black thong. “Yes tha’ hell I am” He whispered, hands sliding up your sides and he slid down, cock pulsing as he got a look at your cunt even with the thong on. There was just so much he wanted to do to you that it was overwhelming his senses.

He ran his tongue up and in between your folds, tasting you through the measly garment. He rubbed circles in your clit as his tongue explored every inch, slipping past the thong and into your entrance, causing your brain to short-circuit as he worked you to release, especially since his own was drying in his underwear. Alongside his tongue, Daryl eased two fingers in, stretching and scissoring you open, his tongue going in much deeper and curling. “Fuck yes, baby just like that” You bit your bottom lip harshly, sliding your own fingers down to stimulate your clit, knowing how to push yourself off the edge quicker. He got so fucking hard at the sight of you playing with yourself, even more so that it was your ring finger, the diamond skull standing out as your fingers sped up. Daryl pulled his tongue out, continuing to move his fingers as he licked your clit, a strangled sob coming from you as you came.

Daryl settled for unleashing another attack on your torso while you recovered from your orgasm, licking, kissing, sucking, and biting at the smooth flesh of your stomach, one hand holding your thigh over his shoulder, and the other resting right by your boob, his thumb teasingly stroking the skin under it. He felt every curse, moan and gasp you let out, licking right in between your already marked boobs, kissing the junction of your throat all the way up to your lips. The head of his cock nudged your pussy slightly, and the heat of the kiss had you dizzy. “C’mon handsome, I can’t wait much longer” You batted your lashes at him, running your hand down his one of his big arms, your ring shimmering in the dim lamp light.

Your other hand slid in between your bodies to shift your soaked thong to the side, pulling him closer by wrapping your legs around his waist. He used one hand to steady his cock, and gripped the headboard as he slammed in, two of you moaning in unison. Daryl’s cock was more sensitive than ever, eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he readjusted himself, pounding roughly into you as you gripped his bicep.

Daryl’s thrusts were relentless as he kept his pace up, bed creaking and headboard slamming as he panted like a dog, watching the way his cock was sliding in and out of you, a giant wet spot forming on his jeans as he showed no signs of stopping. “My big strong man, always fucking me so good with your fat cock” You bit down on your lips as one of your hands came to rest on his cheek. He turned his face to the side, kissing your palm while staring into your eyes with a lovingly lustful gaze. “M’all yers, m’gon always give my woman wha’ she wants” His voice was raspy and breathless against your hand before he locked your fingers together, pinning your hands onto the mattress and dipping his head down to press his forehead against yours, simply panting into each others spaces.

From how tightly you were holding hands, your rings dug into one another’s fingers, and it only turned Daryl on more. You were his and he was yours. “M’so proud ta call ya Mrs. Dixon. Gon fill ya up w all my kids” He whispered, bumping his strangely cold button nose against yours. “Let’s just start with one?” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears, and by the way Daryl’s hips had sped up you could tell he was close “Not one now!” You shrieked, nails digging into his hands as he railed your sweet spot, orgasm already hitting him incredibly hard as he practically laughed in your ear from how hard he came, pulling out just a little too late.

He fell on top of you, but recoiled when something wet touched his navel, eyes flickering down to see his cum soaking into the black fabric of your thong and seeping out your hole. “Gonna clean that up for me?” You winked suggestively at him, and he lowered himself to be eye level with your messy cunt, massive hands spreading you further apart as he licked his lips. “Yes ma’am”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I made myself very horny writing this but I also kept falling asleep as I was writing

also I based both rings off Normans ring :3 (he should put his finger in my body)

#daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #norman fucking reedus #the walking dead daryl #twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion smut #twd daryl #daryl x you #daryl dixion x reader #daryl imagines

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shanastoryteller · 4 months

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Seasons Greasons be upon ye! ❄️⛄️ Can I request a little Sybok and Jim buddy au? Throw Spock in there too he feels lonely without his T’hy’la

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Spock is having a perfectly normal and pleasant conversation with Cadet Uhura when there's a cool hand on the back of his neck and he tenses before being flooded with feelings of affection and amusement.

"Sybok," he says evenly.

Their father had discouraged physical touch between them when Spock was a child. He'd worried that Sybok's unrestrained emotions and blatant disregard for societal customs would rub off on him.

Perhaps the distance would have been easier to do endure if their father had told him that, but he does not know. In any case, he cannot help from finding it comforting now, despite the lack of propriety.

"Spock," Sybok returns, a grin on his face that's most unbecoming.

Cadet Uhura is staring, jaw an inch lower than typical.

Sybok at least offers her the ta'al instead of something mortifying. "Apologies for my younger brother's rudeness. I am Sybok."

He would have introduced them. Sybok merely caught him off guard.

Cadet Uhura seems to shake off her surprise and offers him a beatific smile of her own. She copies his ta'al flawlessly. "Not at all, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your writings are most interesting."

She's read his brother's thesis? He had not known that Cadet Uhura was a practitioner of masochism.

Whatever horrible response this would have pulled from his brother is interrupted by an excited shout of, "SYYYYYBOK! BOK BOK BOK!"

Spock is aware that the last syllable of his brother's name is also the sound humanity has associated with chickens.

He'd still never anticipated it being clucked at him in such a manner.

He looks over to see James Kirk sprinting in their direction while Cadet McCoy tries and fails to stop him, shouting and reaching for him but James Kirk is out of his reach.

Cadet Uhura scowls, shoulders going back and her eyes narrowing.

Sybok's face lights up and he looks behind him. "Jimmy!"

James Kirk reaches them, grabs onto his brother's shoulders, and vaults himself up so his legs are wrapped around Sybok's waist and he's draped across his back. "You asshole! Why didn't you tell me you were on world? Fuck you."

"Where's the fun in that?" Sybok asks, seemingly unconcerned with the way James Kirk is draped across him.

Cadet McCoy reaches them then bends over, bracing his hands on his knees and gasping for air, "Jim."

James Kirk raises an eyebrow.

"Stop," he pants, pointing a finger in his direction, "this."

Cadet Uhura slowly moves her gaze across each of them, looking back and forth between Sybok and James Kirk several times. "Do you ... know each other?"

Vulcans have a religion of sorts, although it's more a series of ritual for the dead than anything formal, and there is no worshipping of any sort of deities. That sort of impracticality was purged from the society with Surak's teachings. Should he wish to indulge in such things, which he does not, his mother's family has long been disciples of Judaism.

Despite this, he has the sinking feelings that he's in hell.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #star trek

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starry-hughes · 5 months

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wrapping presents (jack hughes)

day 12 of star’s ficmas

jack hughes x reader

Jack was pretty insistent on the fact that he didn’t need an assistant. But everyone else thought he did. He was immature, constantly forgetting about meetings, if someone else wasn’t grocery shopping for him, he would be eating leftover meals from the nutrition team every day. He didn’t know what temperature to preheat the oven to for chicken.

Luke didn’t mind your presence. He knew you helped Jack more than anything, plus you kept the pantry stocked with his favorite fruit snacks. Jack appreciated you more than anything. You picked up his drycleaning, made sure he was where he needed to be, and sometimes, you would wait up for him after hard games to help him put icy hot on his shoulder.

You were his life saver.

Jack had wanted to thank you for all your hardwork. You had been his assistant since his rookie year. You stuck by him through injuries and his small hissy fits he would throw when the team was in a bad area of the season. He had thanked you previously, big extravaganza gifts, bonuses for the holiday and offering to buy you plane tickets to go wherever you desired. At the beginning, he didn’t want to admit that he needed someone like you, but now he didn’t know what to do without you. This year, though, he couldn’t think of something to get you, until he saw the present in a bookstore. He wasn’t typically found in bookstores but the gift caught his eye in the window.

You entered his apartment with bags of Christmas gifts and wrapping paper. Jack was sitting on the couch with Luke. “Got all the gifts you needed,” you smiled at the man who was technically your boss. Jack sighed happily, “Oh what would I do without you.”

You grinned, carrying the gifts to his room to wrap. “You’d probably perish.”

Luke waited until the door of Jack’s bedroom closed, signaling that you were in his bedroom, wrapping gifts. You knew Jack’s bedroom well, hell you’d slept in his bed before. It wasn’t on purpose of course, but when the team had all gotten sick and you two were quarantined together, you had really gotten to know him by talking for hours in his bedroom, which resulted in you falling asleep on his bed. “Did you get (Y/N) a gift?”

“Yeah dude of course. I always get her one.”

Jack jumped up from the couch, carrying over a box. It wasn’t wrapped, just a plain white box he was planning to stick a bow on and call it a day. It was a custom, leather bound journal with flowers pressed on the cover. “It made me think of her.”

“So when are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?” Jack hit his brother, a signal for Luke to shut up.

You neatly wrapped all the gifts before packing them in a suitcase for Jack to take to Michigan for the holiday break. You loved your job and did it with a smile on your face. Sure, Jack sometimes drove you crazy but you really liked him. Maybe even loved. You chalked up your feelings to the fact that you spent a majority of your time with him. A proximity crush. You’d never fall for him if you didn’t spend so much time with him.

“Picking up dinner boys, be back soon,” you said as you got your coat on. “Oh actually, just dinner for you and Jacky, I’m going over to Dawson’s,” Luke said. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed together, “I didn’t think you were going there.” The brothers shared a look. Luke was telling him with his eyes that it was time to make a move. “Well I am, you and (Y/N) enjoy dinner together,” Luke gritted.

“Jack, I’ll be back with dinner I guess,” you said confused before leaving. “What the hell dude?” Jack whipped his head toward Luke. “Just tell her you love her! Tonight! Stop beating around the bush!”

You got home with food and Jack wasn’t in the living room. “Jack?” you called out. You heard a muttered “damn it” from his bedroom and you walked to his room. He had tape stuck to his fingers and horrible cut wrapping paper and a plain white box on the floor of his bedroom. “What are you doing? I thought I wrapped all the gifts?”

“This one is special,” Jack huffed out. He was raising the white flag, surrendering to the wrapping paper. You left the paper bag of food on his dresser and joined him on the floor of his bedroom. “You should measure the wrapping paper and make sure it covers the whole box, like this, before cutting,” you explained softly. He pulled himself closer to you, he could hear your heartbeat picking up.

“Then, you should tape one side down to the box, then the other side, and finally the edges you tuck in to make triangles and then fold,” you narrated as he handed you pieces of tape. “Must be a special present if you wanted to wrap it yourself,” you looked at him. His lips were inches away.

“Yeah, something like that,” he mumbled. You could have sworn he was moving in to kiss you before you snapped out of your trance. “Do you want to add a bow to the box?” you cleared your throat and looked back at the neatly wrapped present. “Oh,” Jack was snapped back to reality, ��I guess?”

You added the bow before handing it to Jack. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Jack’s eyes almost pop out of his head. “How do you know it’s for a girl?”

“Because Jack, I’ve only ever seen you put this much effort into presents or items if it’s for a girl you really like.”

Jack could have laughed, it was so ironic. You were right and you had no idea how right you were.

#jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #star’s ficmas #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #nj devils imagine

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jubileemon · 2 months

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Fizzmodeus

Somehow in the infernal landscape of Hell, the relationship between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus, stands out as a sweet love story for the ages.

They were first introduced in the episode 'Ozzie's'. Despite their public disdain for sentimental relationships, they are entangled in a secret romance that defies Hell's social hierarchy and expectations. At first, Fizz and Asmodeus appeared as massive hypocrites, mocking others for their romantic endeavors while secretly harboring their own.

Fizzarolli's life was marked by a traumatic experience with fire, resulting in losing his horns and cybernetic replacements. As he thought Blitzo abandoned him to burn, Fizz began to develop a deep resentment towards his former best friend. Despite his normal jovial nature Fizzarolli suffers from extreme self-worth and self-image issues, the latter of which mostly originating from the severe injuries he received from a circus fire that he was involved in when he was younger. Because of this, he feels like he needs to do whatever Mammon tells him to do, as he feels he must repay the man for all the fame and success being his brand figure has brought, despite how horribly he is treated.

Working under Mammon, the Sin of Greed, further complicates his identity when Fizz became a symbol of Mammon's brand. The cost of fame weighs heavily on him, as public scrutiny and the demands of celebrity challenge his sense of self and personal values. Asmodeus' title as the Sin of Lust comes with its own set of expectations, yet his love for Fizzarolli transcends these. His protective instincts are often on display, particularly when Fizzarolli is in danger or vulnerable. Despite the initial portrayal of their relationship as hypocritical, the secret romance between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus is depicted as both sweet and healthy.

Despite one being a demon prince and one being an imp, and also portraying their partnership in public as purely lustful, Fizzarolli and Asmodeus' relationship is actually as healthy and romantic if not more so than Moxxie and Millie's, where the two are equals who look out for each other. Asmodeus' even lets Fizzarolli go out in public without him or an escort to defend him, despite Ozzie's concerns, because Fizzarolli wants to go alone, a far cry from if Ozzie truly didn't care about Fizzy beyond having sex with him. It's like if Stolas and Blitzø managed to work things out between them and had things be not so rocky.

Hard to believe, but aside from sex jokes, occasional rudeness and his grudge towards his former best friend, Fizzarolli stayed as nice and innocent as he was in childhood, despite all of his trauma. He does admit that it was difficult and challenging at first, but Fizzarolli finding someone who cared so much about him has led to him feeling like he leads a good life.

The relationship between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus is not without its trials. Asmodeus's deep concern for Fizzarolli's well-being is evident when Fizzarolli is taken hostage, an event that ignites Asmodeus's fury and prompts him to take drastic measures to secure Fizzarolli's safety. This protective streak is further shown in their interactions with Mammon, another Prince of Hell, whose abusive and manipulative behavior towards Fizzarolli causes Asmodeus to harbor intense animosity towards him.

In Season 2, Asmodeus reassuring Fizz at the beginning that he doesn't have to worry about being "perfect" for Mammon because perfection is impossible, and that he deserves a break or vacation without having to fend off creeps constantly.

Asmodeus' line when he rephrases his actual feelings in regard to Fizz being in Mammon's clown contest: "I don't like how many creeps you have now, thanks to Mammon. And I don't like designing sex toys with your likeness for him. Pretty sure you feel the same"; this one line has numerous, subtle but still important subtext that really shows how much Asmodeus cares for and respects Fizzarolli. Just the fact that Asmodeus is being honest about his feelings about Fizzarolli being in Mammon's competition.

In most forms of media, when someone doesn't like something that their significant other is doing, they’ll either dance around it until they can’t take it anymore and/or even lie to get their partner to stop. But Asmodeus doesn't do that - when his initial plea doesn't work, he gets straight to the point of him not liking it but in a healthy and mature manner. He doesn't put any blame on Fizzarolli for his own discomfort, instead putting it all rightly on Mammon's greedy shoulders.

Asmodeus' dislike over Fizzarolli as Mammon's brand figure not only comes from a place of concern and worry but respect. In the second sentence of his above-mentioned line, he mentions he does not like having sex toys in Fizz's likeness. Given that he's the King of Lust, one would think he would hardly care, but he does. Because it's his boyfriend using in such a way. Asmodeus also makes sure to note that he's also aware that Fizzarolli doesn't like the sex-bots as well. He's acknowledging not only his own discomfort but his partner's.

After acting like everything's all righr for the majority of the episode and having a full-on panic attack in his dressing room, Fizz finally pours out his insecurities to Asmodeus, telling him that he's terrified of losing him if he doesn't win the pageant because he feels that Ozzie's only with him because of who he is under Mammon's patronage. He even yanks his jester hat off - revealing his scarred, splotchy head and the jagged stumps of what remains of his horns - in an attempt to show Ozzie what he believes he is without Mammon: an ugly, broken, worthless imp.

"Crooked" is a sweet, simple song where Asmodeus and Fizz admit that while they both have their flaws and insecurities.

Asmodeus reassures him of his worth and publicly declares his love, a bold move that underscores the depth of his feelings and his willingness to face potential consequences for the sake of their relationship. Instead of the crowd being shocked or mocking the two, they are all instead excited and reveal they already had theories on it.

Crimson did call Ozzie's relationship with Fizz "the worst-kept secret in all of Hell." Nearly everyone in the crowd probably already knew or at least suspected. Which makes their reaction all the more heartwarming because it's acceptance. One of Ozzie's main worries was being seen as a hypocrite for being the incarnation of carnal hedonism while having a loving, monogamous relationship. It turns out nobody thinks that at all. The King of Lust has fallen in love, and everybody is happy for him.

#helluva boss #helluva boss analysis #fizzarolli #fizzmodeus #fizzarozzie #fizzaroli helluva boss #helluva boss asmodeus #asmodeus x fizzarolli #relationship #couples #true love #romance #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #hellaverse #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss fizzmodeus #why i love this ship

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somehow-a-human · 27 days

Text

Oh look it's another crack theory!

Crowley is the current supreme archangel.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Okay so hear me out, and look, I SAID CRACK! I have fun crack theories pop in my head every once in a while and I'm gonna write em down. It's not cannon with any of my other ideas or metas it's just *a thing*.

So! If you want to follow me down a wormhole of extrapolation, do so below!

"There is always a supreme archangel!"

Michael said it not me! Blame her! But look, that line is a choice, and it feels there for a reason. Maybe there IS always a supreme archangel. Maybe it's not a job you're hired for, maybe it's something that's inherited like royalty, and transfers automatically.

The 25 lazarii miracle.

Okay yes, I think it's just love and angel/demon working together is more powerful than apart, shades of grey, all that. BUT nobody else thinks that. Heaven and hell do not think that. They do not think Az and Crowley should have been able to do that miracle by any means. So I'd assume they're scratching their heads, and Aziraphale does tell the Archangels initially that he performs the miracle alone, which I assume would have then been relayed to the Metatron.

"A miracle of enormous power happened last night, the kind of miracle only the mightiest of archangels could perform" ... "How do you know I didn't do it?"

Let's say I'm right, look I'm humoring my own theory aren't I? Does Crowley know? Would he be aware of what happened? Would he feel it? If he did I could definitely see him keeping that card close to the chest, but still being a snarky ass to Shax.

Crowley opens the file in heaven.

So he's at least a Throne or Dominion or above, probably even higher up than that. He says they never change their passwords, and if that's true what else don't they change? What else have they forgotten? Bureaucratic nightmares like heaven often overlook so many things, who's to say a certain high up angel wasn't taken off all the books fully after they became a demon?

Why does the Metatron actually want Aziraphale back in Heaven?

I mean? Sure he and Crowley averted Apocalypse Part 1 last time I guess that's why, but couldn't there have been an easier way than a faux job promotion? I'm thinking: Gabriel is gone, the position of Supreme Archangel is automatically inherited, none of the Archangels in heaven are it, Aziraphale is suddenly accidentally performing a 25 lazarii miracle all by his lonesome? What if the Metatron thinks it's Aziraphale who has been chosen for the role of Supreme Archangel. But there's one thing he's over looked...

A clerical error.

What if it's not Aziraphale but it's Crowley. Crowley was formerly a high ranking angel before the fall. He's still able to access files in heaven, maybe they've forgotten to completely erase him from all the books and databases, and he was next in line, or maybe God just has a funny sense of humor. Angels and demons alike seem to just automatically listen to Crowley this season and do what he asks, Shax calls him "Arch-traitor" he seems like he might just know a bit too much more than he should, and the scene during the trial where Gabriel says, " However I am the only first order Archangel in the room or ya know the universe." Then the camera cuts directly to a close-up shot of Crowley? It's a bit too foreboding in my opinion to be nothing.

Final Thoughts.

This comic is posted on Whickber street between Aziraphale's Bookshop and the Record Shop. Neil had asked that it revolve around the horrible crime of stealing halos. When I see this comic, I can't help but think that the original halo owner is very James Bond, a character our favorite snake like demon loves to portray. I wonder if Anthony J "just a J really" Crowley chose J for a reason more than just a J (maybe........... Jophiel?), and I wonder if he really was fully deserving of his fate during the fall or if there's a bit more to the story.

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stevie-petey · 3 months

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episode four: will the wise

“What do you want, Hargrove?” Steve asks, situating himself so that more of his body is in between you and Billy. He sucks his teeth and then lets out a cold chuckle. “Nothin’, just didn’t know that this little sweetheart had it in her.” “Don’t call her that–” “I mean, her boyfriend runs off with your girlfriend?” Billy chuckles again. “I’m surprised Y/N Henderson ran into your arms, Harrington.”

summary: jonathan is gone for one day and suddenly all hell breaks loose, your hesitant friendship with steve is already rocky (thanks billy) but steve is hot when he's angry tbh, you become a couple's counselor to lucas and max (sorry dustin), and you're now officially the world's worst cat owner ever. and babysitter. but what else is new ?

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, mentions of blood and scars and knives

Words: 5.7k

Before you swing in: hello ! happy friday, heres chapter 4 :) before i say more, i wanted to inform yall that i started doing blurbs for come home if youre interested in seeing more lil scenes between everyone. they can be found here x. anyways, i absolutely cannot believe we're already halfway through the season (im skipping episode seven obviously, since its just an entire el ep). this chapter we see a liiiil more of readers dynamics with the kids, so im super happy about that. next chapter we finally get steve, dustin, and reader so !!! hella excited about that. for now, pls enjoy <3

Mike and Lucas split up and go outside while you, Dustin, and Max start running through the halls, shouting Will’s name.

“Will!” You’re more pleading rather than shouting. It’s happening again. It’s fucking happening again. Your mind is running a million miles a second, you feel the cold hand of fear twist around your throat. The last time you felt fear like this was when you showed up at Jonathan’s house and collapsed in his arms right after finding out Will had gone missing.

And now he’s gone again, but Jonathan isn’t here this time to keep you steady.

Dustin cups both hands over his mouth. “Will!”

You all turn a corner but Will isn’t there. Nothing.

“Dustin!” Joyce rounds the corner, alarmed. “What’s going on? Where’s Will?”

The woman is moreso asking you than the kids, but you can only shake your head at her helplessly. “I don’t know, Mrs. Byers.”

Joyce holds your gaze and you feel so ashamed of yourself. You’ve let her down again. She’s always been so trusting of you with her children, and here you are, once again a fucking wreck trying to find the son you’ve lost.

Down the hall, a door flings open. “The field!”

The four of you turn and find Lucas standing there, panting and out of breath. He motions for you all to follow and in a heartbeat you begin to run outside after him.

There, you find Mike in the field with Will standing next to him, and for a second you feel relief wash over you. He’s okay, he’s safe and isn’t in another dimension. But as you get closer, you notice the stiffness in Will and the way Mike is shaking his shoulder.

Something isn’t right.

“I just found him like this!” Mike is shouting. “I think he’s having another episode!”

This would make two in two days.

When you reach Will, you finally grasp how dire the situation is. He looks horrible, his eyes have rolled into the back of his head and are spasming. His body shakes, his fingers twitch by his side and the veins in his neck strain.

Joyce quickly grabs him and starts shaking his shoulders, pleading with him. “Will, sweetie, wake up! It’s mom!”

You cover a hand over your mouth as you watch, horrified. Dustin and Lucas stand next to you, each clutching your shirt in fear. Their fear grounds you, making you focus back on them and pull them closer to you. You try to give them as much reassurance as you possibly can, but you know it’s useless. All you guys can do is wait for the episode to end.

Max stands across from you, watching the situation unfold with her own uncertainty. She doesn't understand what any of this means. Why this is happening to Will, and why you’re close to tears as Joyce pleads with her son to come back to her.

The fear on her face is why you agree to Mike to not let Max into the party. They’re all so fucking young. Too young for any of this.

“Will, can you hear me?” Joyce pats Will’s face and you pull the boys even closer to you. Mike refuses to leave Will’s side.

“He’ll be okay,” you whisper to the kids, but you’re selfishly trying to comfort yourself.

Tears form in Mike’s eyes and you just want it all to stop. Will isn’t waking up and Dustin is shaking against you and Joyce’s pleas have become more like begs and it’s all too much.

Then, Will’s eyes snap open and he takes a sharp breath that hurts your own chest to hear.

You release the breath you’d been holding. The worst of it is over.

Will looks around shyly, as if he already knows it’s happened again. Joyce exhales and kisses his cheek and wraps him in her arms. Mike and the others look around, uncertain but relieved, while Max stands off to the side.

You wish you could explain it all to her, but it wouldn’t be right.

Slowly, once Will has recovered, you and the kids walk with Joyce back to their car. Dustin’s hand hasn’t left yours and you secretly wouldn’t let him go anyways if he tried.

“Have the episodes always been like this?” You ask your brother, now remembering that he had to witness that alone on Halloween night.

“Yeah,” Dustin responds, his voice small.

You squeeze his hand and follow after Joyce. In your head, you’re creating a list of all the baked goods you can make with the ingredients you know you have in your kitchen. They all deserve some oatmeal raisin cookies after this.

When you get to the car, you break away from the kids and step in front of Will. He’s pale, paler than he’s been in a while, and it’s only now that you see the bags underneath his eyes. He’s gotten worse, how could you have missed that?

You should’ve seen the signs sooner.

“Did I scare you?” Will asks, and you immediately grab his hand.

“No, never. You just… gave me a reminder that I love you. Go get some rest, little bee.” You kiss his cheek goodbye and he quietly gets in the car.

Joyce is behind you, and once Will is safely in the car you turn to face the woman. “Call me if anything else happens, please?”

She nods at you, already understanding why you need the reassurance. There’s a warmth in her eyes, even if every other part of her seems exhausted. “I will.”

“I know I’m not a scientist, or–or a licensed therapist but I just–”

“Sweetie, I understand. Apart from Hopper, you’ve done more research and reading than anyone else. If Will gets worse, I’ll call.”

You smile at the woman appreciatively. “Thank you.”

She squeezes your shoulders and then gets in the car, driving off. You stand there for a moment, needing a second to compose yourself, before turning around to join the kids standing on the school’s steps.

They seem to have all forgotten about Dart, but you sure as hell haven’t. Dustin fiddles with his walkie and won’t meet your eye, which only reminds you of how weird he had been acting in the bathroom earlier when he conveniently couldn't find Dart.

The two of you are definitely having a code blue tonight.

“Dustin, you’re my ride to work.”

“What?”

“Jonathan can’t take me, so I have to ride on your pegs.”

“Who’s Jonathan?” Max asks.

You give the girl a thumbs up. “Love the enthusiasm to understand everything, unfortunately I need to get to work and lecture my little brother.”

“Good luck, Dustin.” Mike snickers.

Your brother waves him off. “Yeah, yeah.”

You say goodbye to the kids, giving a stern warning that if they find any signs of Dart to tell you immediately. “I’m looking at you, Wheeler.”

Mike groans and you leave him to wallow as you hop on Dustin’s bike pegs

“She always this bossy?” Max mumbles to Lucas.

He shrugs. “Yeah, but she’s also always right, so.”

You blow a kiss towards the boy, and he blushes. Once Dustin is ready, the two of you head towards town.

The bike ride is quick, one of the small perks of living in a small town. The entire ride, you and Dustin are quiet. You both know that you have many choice words to say, but Dustin still looks shaken up from Will’s episode and you’re not doing too well, either.

When Bookstrordinary’s sign greets you, you tap Dustin’s shoulder to alert him to stop. You can walk the rest of the way, you don’t want him out too late in the dark.

“You’re lucky I can’t call off tonight, otherwise I’d kill you right now.”

“You’re such a great big sister, Y/N.”

“Thanks, I try.”

You hop off the bike and sigh. “When I get home tonight, you and I are talking.”

Dustin looks down, but takes a deep breath and salutes you halfheartedly. You laugh a bit, salute back, and then tell him to bike home safely.

–

After a very long and anxious shift, you ask your coworker for a ride home.

Alex almost drops his keys and looks around, as if you could be talking to anyone else in the empty store. “M–me?”

“Yes, Alex. I need a ride home.”

“Where’s Jonathan? I won’t like, die if I drive you, right?”

You roll your eyes. “No, he’d only kill you if you didn’t drive me home since it’s late.”

Alex exhales, relieved. “Okay, yeah. I can take you home, then.”

By the time you get home, it’s later than you anticipated. Alex was kind enough to drive you, but had you known he was a new driver who went ten below the speed limit, you would’ve just walked.

You walk inside and all the lights are off. Your mom is on the couch with Mews, softly snoring while some program plays on the TV. She tends to do that now, fall asleep on the couch rather than her bed. Too many memories, she explained once to you.

Quietly you take your shoes off and grab some leftovers in the fridge. Dustin’s door is closed and his own light is off, which you sigh at.

“Shit.”

He could be tricking you into thinking he’s asleep, but you could just be overthinking it. Dustin has been having more nightmares recently, you’d feel horrible if you knocked on his door and woke him up from his much needed sleep. He’s been through enough today.

You eat your dinner, alone at the table, and you wonder how exactly you’ve wound up here again. Monster on the loose, Will in danger, Jonathan off with Nancy.

Seems like you can never have a normal November ever again.

After you’re done eating, you tiredly head to your room and collapse on your bed. Except, instead of landing on your soft pillows, you land on a hard body instead.

“Oomph–” A voice groans underneath you.

You fling yourself off, finding Jonathan laying there. “Jonathan Byers, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

He rubs his eyes. “Said we’d call tonight.”

You stare at him. “That doesn’t at all answer my question.”

“We said we’d call tonight, but then Nancy and I realized our calls could be traced here, too. To your house, but I promised to keep you updated, so… Here I am.”

“And napping in my bed was just something you had to do?”

Jonathan yawns. “Yup.”

You flick his forehead. “Scoot over.”

He makes room for you on the bed so that you lay side by side. Technically he’s not supposed to sleep in your bed, but your mom never said anything about naps or cuddling. You nuzzle against Jonathan’s chest, allowing the fear and anger from today leak out of your bones as you rest them. He’s always had that effect on you.

Here, in Jonathan’s arms, you feel the safest.

“What did I miss today?” You ask once you’re settled in.

Jonathan thinks for a moment. “Well, Nance and I got the tape recorder and then drove to her house. She called Barb’s parents, told them she had to confess something about Barb and to meet her tomorrow at Forrest Hills Park in the morning.”

“She’s a genius.”

“She is,” Jonathan lazily responds. He’s drawing small circles against your hand, which is splayed against his chest. His sweater, one you bought him for his birthday, is soft against you. Jonathan seems happy right now, or at least content, and you almost don’t want to ruin the moment.

It’s so rare to have him like this these days. The old Jonathan, shy and quiet and bashful.

But he has to know about Will and Dart. It’s only right that he knows.

“Something happened today, at the middle school.”

There must be something in your voice, because the second the words leave your mouth, Jonathan sits up to look at you. “What happened?”

“My brother found a baby monster from the Upside Down, named him Dart, hid it from me, and now he’s lost.” Jonathan stares at you and you can only sigh. “Will also had another episode. His second one in two days.”

“Fuck…”

“Yeah. Got to the middle school and suddenly I was chasing around some lizard looking thing from the Upside Down. Pretty typical day, honestly.”

“I wish I could’ve been there, I’m sorry. I can help you look for Dart tomorrow–”

“It’s okay,” you reassure Jonathan. “If anything, this all just proves that you and Nancy are onto something. I mean, it’s been a year and we’re still dealing with so many fucking problems due to their carelessness. How the fuck does a creature from the Upside Down just happen to survive and find its way to my brother? I mean, what if someone else had found it?”

You shake your head. “Something’s going on. You and Nancy need to keep going. Expose those evil fuckers.”

Jonathan frowns. “But what about you? What if the baby monster has a bigger, angrier mom and you get hurt?”

You hadn’t thought about that, honestly. “Huh, that’s a great question.”

“Bug–”

“I’ll be fine, bee. Those assholes at Hawkin’s Lab need to pay.”

Jonathan throws his head back, closes his eyes, and sighs. He knows he can’t argue with you about this, you already willingly took over the role of babysitter, but he still doesn’t like it. Sometimes your selflessness makes him want to scream.

“I hate that you’re always right.”

“I personally love it.” You respond, and Jonathan laughs. He uses his whole chest, it’s breathy and deep and full of warmth, and you smile and kiss his cheek as he laughs.

No other conversation follows, you and Jonathan are content with just laying there in silence. It’s been a while since you guys were this close. Limbs tangled with limbs, the warmth from the body heat almost too much to stand, yet just enough to love.

He stays for a while, but eventually he kisses your forehead and tells you he has to go. “Early morning, but I promise I’ll be back the next day.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Jonathan laughs again and untangles himself from you. He presses another kiss to your forehead, playfully tucks your blanket underneath your chin like a child, and then wishes you a goodnight as he leaves through your window.

–

For some goddamn reason, you miss your four fucking alarms this morning and oversleep. By almost an entire hour. You’ve never, ever slept through your alarms this horribly before, and you’re blaming the Hawkin’s Lab people for it.

Now, you know the real reason is because you’ve spent every night for the last three weeks obsessively researching post-traumatic stress disorder, but blaming Hawkin’s Lab makes you feel better.

You get ready as fast as you can, and of course this happens the one morning Jonathan can’t drive you to school and you have to bike. Your mom and Dustin have already left, which. Fuck. You still have to talk to Dustin about Dart.

Not off to a great start this morning.

It takes a burnt piece of toast for breakfast, cramped calves, and a lot of prayers, but you manage to make it to school only minutes before the first bell rings. When you arrive, you have just enough time to notice that both Steve’s car and Bllly’s car are parked in the lot.

Great. You have to deal with them both alone today.

As you’re walking inside, you hear a few people whispering about Jonathan and Nancy. Seems like word has spread that they skipped fourth period together yesterday and still haven’t returned yet.

Awesome. Steve will definitely be in a great mood today once he hears about that.

He can’t seem to catch a damn break.

And neither can you, because you quickly realize how weird it is being at school without Jonathan and Nancy. It’s lonely, and Steve still seems to be hiding from you.

No, not hiding, you remind yourself. He’s still hurt, he asked for space and the least you can do is give it to him. You told him where to find you.

And find you Steve does.

You’re in the lunchroom, staring sadly at your pathetic lunch consisting of a handful of granola bars, resolving yourself to a lonely lunch without your friends, when Steve’s body slides into the seat next to you. You look up, surprised, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay… About what? I forgot what topic we’re on. Are we still on the whole friends conversation?”

Steve isn’t in the mood for this. “Where did Jonathan and Nancy go?”

Fuck.

You look around the lunchroom, scared that the wrong people could be listening in. “I… Okay, I know we just had a whole conversation about being honest and I begged to be your friend again but… I can’t tell you.”

Steve takes several seconds to respond. You know he’s doing everything he can to not completely snap at you. “You… can’t tell me where my girlfriend ran off to?”

“No…”

“You recognize how fucking stupid that sounds, right?”

You swallow. “I do.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s so beyond pissed off right now. Yesterday you were in his car, reassuring him that he’s a good guy and charming and pretending to be his friend again. Now, you won’t tell him where the fuck his girlfriend has gone.

Steve isn’t an idiot. He knows there’s more to why you ditched him this summer, something you refuse to tell him, and he respected that. He did. He hadn’t wanted to push you too far, but it’s pretty damn ironic that you’re trying to get back into his life while still fucking lying to him.

You see the obvious frustration on Steve’s face, and you wince. You take another look around, deciding to risk it. This isn’t fair to him, he deserves to know because from an outside perspective, you’d also be incredibly pissed off if your girlfriend just up and left with the guy she has weird feelings for.

“Listen,” you lean in close, whispering, “Jonathan and Nancy went off to get evidence about who really killed Barb.”

Steve whips his head back. “What–”

“Shh!” You reach behind his head and shove him back down so that you can whisper again. “That’s all I can tell you. There’s… There’s people who could be listening, bad people who could hurt us and–”

“Well, what do we have here?” A voice interrupts.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up.

It’s Billy.

You and Steve break apart, but he places a hand on the back of your seat in a protective manner. You lean in closer to him, trying to make yourself smaller as if Billy doesn’t already have his eyes on you anyways.

“What do you want, Hargrove?” Steve asks, situating himself so that more of his body is in between you and Billy.

He sucks his teeth and then lets out a cold chuckle. “Nothin’, just didn’t know that this little sweetheart had it in her.”

“Don’t call her that–”

“I mean, her boyfriend runs off with your girlfriend?” Billy chuckles again. “I’m surprised Y/N Henderson ran into your arms, Harrington.”

Billy learned your name.

You don’t want to know how.

“I mean,” Billy shrugs. “It’s a genius plan. Scorned lovers pissing off their exes. But from what I’ve heard, the school’s sweetheart wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”

“Jonathan and I aren’t together.” You finally find your voice.

This only seems to entice Billy. He takes a step forward and leans against your table. “So, you’re single then?”

Steve’s hand tightens around your seat and you feel his body tense. Billy seems to notice this, too, and shakes his head.

“I know I promised I’d leave you some, Harrington. But this one?” He leans in closer to you, his breath minty and cold as it ghosts against your face. “She’s cute. I think I’ll keep this one.”

A chair goes flying across the room as Steve stands up. He has his fist raised and you’ve never seen his eyes so cold before. He hates what Billy is implying about you, as if he has some claim over you, as if you aren’t a human fucking being.

You’re so much more than that.

“Don’t talk about her that way.” Steve growls out, his face inches away from Billy’s.

Billy seems to come to life, having finally cracked Steve Harrington, and within a second he has his own fists raised. You’re aware of everyone’s eyes on you in the lunchroom and vaguely you remember Steve confessing to you how much of a hardass his father is on him about school. He can’t get into any more trouble, especially not because of you.

You shove yourself between Steve and Billy, despite how much your body screams at you to run away for being so close to the other boy. You ignore him, and force Steve to look at you. “Not here. Please.”

Steve looks between you and Billy, sees the pleading in your eyes. He sighs and reluctantly backs down.

“Seems like the sweetheart has you whipped, Harrington.” Billy remarks, a pleased smile on his face. “Makes me want her even more–Shit!”

Milk drips down Billy’s entire shirt.

“Oops,” you say, without any ounce of sincerity. You set the empty carton down and give the boy a aren’t I such a clutz? look. “God, silly me! I can’t hurt a fly, but it seems I also can’t hold a milk carton properly.”

Steve stifles a laugh next to you, and around the room a few others are brave enough to laugh as well. You smile innocently at Billy, who looks five seconds away from flipping the table. “Sorry about that.”

Billy, knowing he’s being watched, forces a smile himself. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Oh, I’m sure the shirt was only worth $5 anyways.”

This time Steve lets his laughs out and it calms you, steadies the shakiness you feel as you stand off against Billy. You hope you’re hiding how fucking terrified you are right now.

You wait for a response, but Billy only storms out of the lunchroom. It’s quiet for a few moments, but slowly the usual buzz in the room returns and everyone goes back to their conversations. You stand there, your heart still in your throat, and Steve’s hand brings you back.

“Hey, sit.” He tugs you back down and you’re too numb to fight back. “That was awesome, but are you okay?”

“Honestly? No.”

He thinks for a moment. “Alright, well. I’m still mad at you, so… Would it be shitty if I left?”

Despite everything, you find yourself laughing. “No, Steve. I understand.”

He lingers. “Are you sure? I mean, I can stay…”

“No,” you squeeze his hand. “We can talk more about this later. Alone, without possible psychotic spies around. Go.”

Steve bites his lip, but he’s still angry at you and he has so many things he wants to ask but you’re pale and still shaking from Billy. If he demands more from you, Steve knows it wouldn’t end well for either of you. You both need your space right now, that’s one thing he’s come to learn about you and relate to himself.

Sighing, he stands up and, to try and make up for being the asshole who leaves a vulnerable girl alone, Steve ruffles your hair. “Stay out of trouble, will ya?”

“No promises.” You smile up at him, though you know it looks as tired as it feels.

He hesitates again, pauses for a few seconds, but eventually he leaves. And then you’re left alone again.

–

As soon as school lets out, you march straight over to the middle school, knowing the kids are bound to be there. Dustin, specifically. He’s managed to slip through your fingers three times now.

Holy shit, you’re really losing your touch.

The second you find the little asshole you’re going to demand a code blue, doesn’t matter where you’ll be, and then interrogate him about Dart and figure out whatever the hell else he’s hiding from you. Then, you’ll make him clean Mews’ litter box for a whole month.

You’re so lost in your revenge planning thoughts, you almost walk right past Lucas and Max arguing in the parking lot.

“What is wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” Max flies past you, her shoulder knocking against yours. You steady her and notice she’s talking to a very nervous looking Lucas.

Oh dear.

“I don’t understand!” He calls after her.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You try to intervene, but Max rips herself out of your grasp and gets in Lucas’ face.

“No!” She’s shouting now. “I don’t understand! You guys act like you want me to be your friend but–but then you treat me like garbage?”

Huh. She’d get along great with you and Steve.

Lucas looks over at you, helpless. “That’s not true!”

“Don’t look at me, buddy.” You tell him.

“Yes, it is! You go and hide in the AV Club, keeping secrets like we’re in second grade or something…” Max’s words catch in her throat, giving you a glimpse of the hurt girl underneath her indifferent exterior. “You know, I thought you guys wanted me in your party.”

You step close to her. “Max, I know it might not make any sense but–”

“Don’t tell me you’re in the party but I’m not.”

Now it’s your turn to look towards Lucas for help.

He sighs. “Look, we want you in our party, but it’s…”

“But what?” Max looks between you and Lucas, obviously becoming more and more hurt the longer this conversation goes on.

“There… there are just things.”

“Things, yeah.” You unhelpfully echo, but Lucas glares at you. “Sorry.”

He tries again. “There are things we can’t tell you, alright? For your own safety.”

“Lucas,” you warn, scared he’ll say too much, but Max just gets angrier.

“My own safety?”

“Yes!”

“Because I’m a girl?”

Well, that’s certainly one way to look at it.

Lucas scoffs. “What? No!”

You step in between the kids. “Alright, no. That’s not it at all and this conversation will just keep going in circles.”

Max ignores you. “Did you keep secrets from El?”

You and Lucas share a look, and then, at the same time, ask, “How do you know about El?”

“Did you?” She presses, but she’s looking more at you now than Lucas. She’s expecting you to take her side, to tell the boys to be nice to her and let her into the party, but the scar on your upper arm burns and your ankle faintly throbs. Those wounds will never fully go away; you’ll carry them with you your entire life.

You know how shitty it feels to be left out, but you also know how shitty the nightmares are as well. Max can never be brought into the Upside Down. Not when she has the chance to live a happy and normal life, free from any danger and turmoil.

“That was different,” you tell Max, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I really, really wish I could explain, but I can’t. It’s for your own good. If I could’ve prevented the party from going through what they have, I would’ve. But I couldn’t, and it haunts me every day.”

Max stares at you, and you admire how much spunk she has in her. You can see her thinking about what you’ve said, analyzing your words for any lies or deception, and you know she’s spent years doing this on her own. Your heart breaks for her.

Billy’s anger flashes in your mind. Max is an intelligent girl, but you know he’s the reason why.

When she can’t find any lies in your words, she just sighs and shakes her head. “You know what? Forget it. Okay? I don’t want to be in your stupid party anyway. I’m out. Have a nice life.”

Lucas stands there for a moment, processing what’s just happened. “Max!”

“You still stink, by the way.” She calls back, and you step back a bit from Lucas.

“Not to make this worse, but she’s right.”

Lucas glares at you but then sniffs his jacket, cringing with repulsion. “Oh, shit!”

He throws his hands up in the air and starts walking back towards the school. You don’t follow for a second, instead you watch as Max skates down towards the parking lot, where Billy is waiting. He has his arms spread against his car, and he seems to have noticed you long before you noticed him.

Billy’s eyes pierce yours and you shudder. There’s a hatred in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, unlike anything else. Again, your heart breaks for Max. You can’t imagine having an older brother like him.

You force yourself to turn around and join Lucas up ahead. Gross, sleazy men are the least of your concerns right now.

But then Lucas turns and makes eye contact with Billy before you can warn him not to. “Why is that guy glaring at us?”

You shove Lucas to keep walking. You don’t at all like the disdain in Billy’s eyes. “I poured milk all over his shirt today. Keep moving.”

The boy trips over a rock. “You what?”

“Long story, can we please just go inside and find Dustin? I need to talk to him.”

Lucas sighs, knowing that what he’s about to say will only anger you more. “I can’t find Dustin either. We were supposed to meet by our lockers after school to keep looking for Dart.”

You stop walking. “And he didn’t show?”

“Nope.”

“I’m going to kill him.” You know exactly where your brother is: at home hiding Dart and trying to figure out what to do with him.

Lucas senses you know something. “Y/N, what did he do?”

“Nothing!” You cover for Dustin quickly, because he’s your idiotic brother whose problems are also somehow yours. You’ll always have his back, but you also hate lying to Lucas. “He just probably had to head home immediately. Our mom has guests over.”

“Guests?”

“Yeah! Totally unexpected, I know, but you know how our mom is.” You start speed walking towards the bike rack. You need to head home. Now.

Lucas doesn’t believe you. “Y/N–”

“I’m sorry about Max, by the way!” You call as you run towards your bike. “Talk to her! Obviously don’t mention the… Stuff, but just know if it doesn’t work then it’s for the best! We have to keep her safe!” You’re rambling as you unlock your bike and hop on.

Lucas is not far behind you. “Are you seriously giving me girl advice as you’re running away from me to go cover for Dustin?”

“Yes. Bye, Lucas!”

He lets out a frustrated groan and calls after you, but you kick up your kickstand and immediately pedal away, leaving him in the dust. You feel bad, you do. Lucas is one of your favorites to interact with, he’s always been the most rational, but right now you have to go make sure your brother doesn’t burn down this entire town.

You’ll bake Lucas brownies later.

–

“Dustin Henderson, you’re so dead!” You slam the front door, sweaty and out of breath from your frantic bike ride.

“Y/N! What’s going on?” Your mother clutches her chest, obviously frightened by your sudden entrance.

You quickly walk towards Dustin’s closed door. “Everything’s fine, just sibling stuff.”

“Oh, well have you seen Mews?”

The door is locked. Of course the fucker locked the door. You start pounding on it. “Dustin, let me in before I radio all your friends.” Then, you call to your mother in the living room. “And no, I haven’t seen Mews, mom.”

You hear her sigh and mutter to herself where Mews could be, and you figure you’ll help her look after your idiot of a brother lets you into the room.

Again you pound against the door. “Dustin, I swear to god–”

The door swings open and a hand grabs your shirt and flings you inside, before promptly slamming the door behind you. Once you’re inside, Dustin turns to you, worried. “We have a problem.”

“Damn right we have a problem, where the hell have you been–” There, behind Dustin, is his turtle’s tank, completely shattered. Bile rises to your throat. “Please tell me Yurtle suddenly got super strong.”

Dustin walks over to the tank and holds up what looks like slimy plastic. “So, I kept Dart.”

“Dustin–”

“And he grew. A lot. This is his old skin.” He throws it back down. Then, backing away from you a bit, he admits, “I also can’t find him.”

It takes everything within you not to strangle the kid right then and there. You start pacing the room, mumbling to yourself, “I’m a good sister, I’m a good sister, I’m a good sister.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, alright? I just, I got excited and Dart likes me and–”

A loud growl cuts your brother off. In a heartbeat, he’s back by your side, clutching your shirt in fear. Instinctively, you pull him behind you and reach for your switchblade that you always keep in your pocket now. After everything that’s happened, you find comfort in having the weapon always close to you.

Slowly, you and Dustin start walking towards where the growl came from. Your hand never leaves his back, ready to push him out the door in case anything happens. There’s horrible grunting noises coming from the corner of his room. As you walk closer, you see a trail of dark red scattered across the carpet and his chair.

It’s blood.

The realization makes your breath hitch.

The grunting gets louder as you approach the chair, and then, slowly, you peek behind it. There, you’re met with a gruesome sight.

Dart is eating Mews.

He's bigger than he was yesterday. Way bigger. Dangerously bigger.

You scream, unable to help it, and Dustin quickly covers your mouth so that you don’t alert your mother. The sound seems to alert Dart, however, and he raises his head from Mews’ stomach, covered in blood, and lets out a horrific screech.

Its mouth opens the same way the monster’s did at Jonathan’s last year, the same monster that had almost killed you and your friends. The sight paralyzes you in fear as the memories come crashing back from that night. The scar on your arm burns again. Your ankle twings in pain, and you feel sick.

Your cat is dead.

And Dustin has been hiding a fucking baby demogorgon in your home.

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⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wtlws #m's writing #billy is so fun to write in a very evil way #also tw jon n bug scene for those who hate em #but also it was needed <3

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batsarebetterthanpeople · 6 months

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why do so many people keep calling ed izzy's abuser? I thought it was kind of funny how wrong they were at first because I love being right but at this point I feel like, if you really believe that why do you even like this show? where the main love interest is a violently abusive indigenous man? that sounds boring as shit. what would possess the writers of the show for them to make such an awful decision?

but then I think, if this many people believe it does that mean I'm the one who's wrong? or is it that the creators fumbled that storyline when they should have been clearer about it? or maybe it's just that most people on here have had their reading comprehension scorched away by Sherlock Holmes conspiracy theories and Steven Universe discourse. I can't tell. sometimes I think the internet may have been a mistake.

No they're wrong here's what's going on. People all read this shitty fic called Hell or High Water where Ed was everything the Izzy stans say he was and then instead of realizing that Ed is sad everyone regressed into thinking that the Kraken Era TM was going to be incredibly violent, like serial killing blond men because they look like Stede levels of violence. Even if you didn't read HoHW you saw art or read fic from people who had engaged with this fic and succumbed to it's premise. So there's been this background radiation of misunderstanding what the Kraken is on the fandom for several months. So inevitably when Ed did some mild violence and then attempted suicide by threatening murder until the crew took matters into their own hands, which is not abuse or torture by any stretch, btw, it's a murder-suicide at worst (I say at worst because I consider it fuckery-suicide I don't think Ed was trying to kill people I think he was trying to force them into a situation where they thought it was kill or be killed so that they would choose to kill him, but that is my interpretation and you are free to think it's a botched murder-suicide I have no problem with that), which, murder is something the show has never condemned and if it did it would be horribly inconsistent. So anyway, Ed's whole Kraken Era was categorized in the show by him being sad and doing so many drugs and begging someone please god anyone to kill him and trying to break Ned Low's record out of the evil boredom, but because it had a murder-suicide element to it and Izzy's toes were getting removed and he waved a gun around at everyone once (in a way that felt to me like he was trying and failing to work up the nerve to blow his own brains out but I digress) people who liked HoHW and were mad that people had called it out were like "see hes being violent HoHW author vindicated" as if anything Ed did rose to the level of that fic

And you want to know how I know this read is bullshit? Because when I watch the show with people who don't read fic or interact with the fandom and then I gauge their reactions without showing my hand they all implicitly understand that Ed is reacting to Izzy in a way appropriate to how pirate captains react to threats from subordinates. The spectrum of reactions has been from "hey isn't it weird how Ed was the Kraken because his dad was abusive and now he's the kraken because of Izzy? Maybe there's something there but idk" to "I don't think you can apply the logic of domestic abuse to a pirate captain and first mate but also Izzy had it coming" to "I cannot feel bad for Izzy after last season, I'm sorry." To "lmao Izcel" and I've showed this show to roughly everyone I know. The only thing I can conclude from the fact that people who don't engage with OFMD fic almost unilaterally thinking that Izzy is in the wrong and then coming online to see people thinking the opposite is that Izzy as victim and Ed as abuser is pure fanon, like how Stede is a cinnamon roll who talks like Azeriphael.

But anyway yeah you're completely right about the fact that this would be a bad show if they decided to make Ed into a domestic abuser. I don't want to watch a rom com about a domestic abuser falling in love and I don't want a show that decided to make it's indigenous lead abusive when the stereotype of indigenous men as abusers is still to this day used as an excuse to separate indigenous children from their families and put them with white Christians in order to erase their culture. Good thing OFMD didn't make Ed abusive, so I still like the show.

#ofmd #our flag means death

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 3 months

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a letter from crowley, post s2 (which I haven't watched)

Disclaimer from your beloved fandom mascot: I haven't watched season 2, or really even the kiss scene, just parts of it like flashes from edits, and I figured that Aziraphale gets an offer to go with Crowley to heaven and Crowley doesn't accept it. So I could be entirely wrong about the tone of what happened and how the season actually ends and their feelings regarding it. But that's never stopped me before and it won't now, so have this letter.

Angel

Aziraphale

Dear Aziraphale,

I'm throwing this into the rubbish bin as soon as I'm done writing it, just so you know. I have a feeling it's going to go just horribly sentimental, and I don't do sentimental, I'm a demon, for heaven's hell's oh for something's sake. I don't do nice.

I tried to, though, for you. I really did try this is a stupid exercise why am I writing this, I'm beginning to remind myself of a lady in what was it? 1790, or nearish, she was bloody besotted with a gentleman, wrote letters to him every night and never posted them. Could have told her he didn't fancy women, but that's not really my area, is it, I'm meant to cause chaos and. I'm rambling.

Look. Angel. Aziraphale. That kiss What we did What I did That kiss. That wasn't how I meant it to go. Not that I'd been imagining it before. Yes I'm bloody lying, what did you expect?

I was desperate. And I knew I'd lost you the second you started going on about talking about blabbering about you said you'd accepted their offer. It was a foolish attempt to make you stay. But I keep being a fool, don't I, I keep being a bloody fool and only when it comes to you, you insufferable and I don't know what to do anymore, alright?

I'm sure you had your reasons and I'm sure they were very noble and very, uh, very virtuous and sensible. Why else would you just throw away But if you didn't, if they've tricked you again, I hate myself for knowing that even after everything I'd storm heaven the second you asked.

That's all. Just thought I'd write that down. You idiot.

I really am throwing this away. But I'll sign it off anyway.

Yours, Crowley

Anthony J Crowley

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geminimoonbeamx · 2 years

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Friday I’m In Love

A/N: So jokes on me because I didn't expect to love Eddie Munson this much. @allaboardthereadingrailroad told me he was going to be the it girl of this season and I said absolutely not.

Warnings: Smut, lots of it. Drug use. Judgemental teenage girls

Parings: Eddie Munson x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Eddie invites you to his show, and holy shit. You show up.

“Remind me why the hell were here again?”

You’d never been to The Hideout, a shitty hole in the wall off the highway outside of town. You’ve driven by it like, a thousand times and never once had the urge to go inside. Now, as you stand next to your friend, Shelly’s, mom’s Subaru in the half empty parking lot your nerves are going haywire, over eager to walk through the doors.

“Because, we were invited” you answer simply. Duh. Sweeping more glittery lip gloss on and fluffing your hair before adding “plus it’s not like we had anything else to do”

“We could literally be doing anything else then this- isn't Clair throwing a party tonight?”

“Yeah, but all her parties are always like, major depressing. Ever since Heather you know”-you make a gurgling choking sound and cross your eyes “Its like, why do we have to do a toast to the dead girl, every party. I get once- but it feels redundant”

You get it. Claire and Heather were best friends. You’re also not in the mood to go hold her hand while she cries about it. Again.

Also, Heather had put gum in your third grade. So-

“For one- you're a horrible person” Shelly accuses, shaking her overly curly head “For two, we could’ve gone to the movies or something”

“You think the theaters boring, plus like. Won't it be fun to try something new? Come on” you grab her hand and pull her along behind you. Sparing one last glace at the familiar van, parked idle towards the front of the lot.

“So like, this has nothing to do with you and weirdo Munson, right?”

“Right- and its funny the way that you only think he’s weird after he sells you weed. Asshole”

Well- its not like you we’re expecting anything fancy from the Hideout. No expectations, no disappointment, right? The bar is the textbook definition of a dive.The lingering smell of stale beer hits you straight in the face as you walk in. Seedy lighting that makes everything look shadowy and almost green-

“Oh look! They have pool tables!” you point out because that could be fun. Maybe?

“Oh great” She replies, voice fasle sugar sweet before dropping “I want to leave”

“Shh” you elbow her, hard. “We just got here. Play nice”

And she does, for the most part. Sit down at one of the sticky tables with you. Avoids the looks of the bar's patrons- older. Wasted. White trash, for sure. You wouldn't talk to them, not ever but like. Whatever. You can just ignore them. That’s easy enough.

Especially when they get on stage. The Dark Wizards, Eddie at the lead. Even though he's not singing, even though he’s off to the side with that bright cherry red guitar of his. He’s the star.

“We’re the Dark Wizards, and we’re about to rock your mortal world”

You don't know when this…thing you had for Eddie developed. Somewhere between smoke laced conversations and late nights glued to your phone, him fighting the shitty static of his own line to talk until one of you called uncle, the thing had taken a life of its own.

He’s odd. Yeah. But no other guy has ever been this nice to you. Eddies odd, but he’s not cruel. He’s not like the asshole jocks or elitist math nerds. He’s not even like the rest of his leather clad D&D playing posse.

You wish you could get everyone else to see that. Get your friends to see that.

The singer is trash, the drummer can't keep a beat to save his life, but the guitar riffs are melodic. Smooth and sharp, and your heart catches the tune and beats in time. Blood flow slowing and stopping until your all but hypnotized.

You clap and cheer and cant manage to tear your eyes away until the final note plays, their set is over-

“Oh my god, you're so into him” the statement is disgusted, mostly. Fascinated. Your friend looks at you like she's watching a car crash- violent and bloody, but she can't take her eyes off of it.

You just shrug because like. Yeah. Obviously.

“Oh fuck no” she groans, face palming hard.

Eddie hurries out from behind the stage, which is really just their supply room. Grinning from ear to ear, beaming arms spread out wide. “Look who came!”

“You invited me, I told you I’d come” You try to contain it, but you're giddy. Even more so when he throws a gangly arm around your shoulder. “It’s no biggie”

“No biggie? You came all the way out here to see little ol me. Huge biggie, my friend. Huge” He holds his heart with his other hand dramatically-

Always so dramatic. Always so enamoring.

“You deserve a drink. A real one, what is this?” He dips his pinky into your friend's drink and her nose scrunches up something fierce and offended “Sprite? Nah, that's a peasant drink. Bartender kind sir- pour us something strong. And…fruity”

The bartender, who looks like an Ex-con, actually makes a mean Mojito.

------------

“It’s totes okay, I’ll call you when I get home, yeah?”

You're in the parking lot, again. Except for you're not leaving in the car that you came in.

Shelly’s tucked into the Subaru, staring out at you with all knowing eyes.

He’s just going to drop me off at home.

Uh Huh.

Seriously.

“Yeah whatever you better call me later- I want all the dirty details. Use protection- bye” she waves before her tires screech, hauling ass away from the Hideout. You flip her the bird all the way.

“Okay let's blow this popsicle stand” you plop into the passenger side of the beat up old van, bouncing along as you go. Glad for the low cut blouse you’d donned because Eddie's eyes follow your chest, comically, animatedly. Up and down.

“Whatever you say, mi’lady. Your house?”

“I mean- I don't have a curfew or anything on the weekend- we could go somewhere else. If you want to?”

Eddie looks pensive, lips pursed, before a light bulb goes off in his head.

“Want to go to the end of the earth with me?” He questions as he reverses, and well. How can you say no to that offer?

-----

The cliffs of Sattlers Quarry are jagged and high. Eddie parks too close to the edge- takes you out. Holds your hand tight as you screech, not being able to look over for more than a second.

“Its okay,” Eddie chuckles, herding you into the open back of the van. “I come here all the time, were all good Y/L/N.”

The seats are ripped out, posters of dragons and bare tittied ladies plastered on the metal walls. Black Sabbath plays lowly from the crappy speakers and he lays an armful of threadbare blanket down for cushioning, for the two of you to curl up on.

You cling to him just to do it. Keep close as he rolls the cleanest joint you’ve ever seen. Spark and smoke and laugh- all attached to hip. He talks about Tolkien as fluidly as he does Karl Marx, he likes pineapple on pizza and was born the day before Valentines. Cats are superior to dogs, and he like lives off of peanut butter crunch cereal.

His dad split when he was in eight grade and living with his Uncles not so bad, really. It’s kind of like rooming with a chill homie, but definitely nothing like having a real parent.

“I'm boring you aren't I? Just tell me to stop, and I’ll zip my lips. Locked. Key is thrown, right off that cliff” He makes the motions, zip. Key, tossed and you lean your face into his jean clad shoulder.

“Mmm, no. I like listening to you talk” its not a lie, not the usual shit you blow up guys ass. Everything out of Eddie’s mouth is unexpected, he tells stories with words. Vivid pictures, film on a loop. With your lungs burning and THC running through your system it's even better.

“I like you. In general” Eddie whispers, and you hide your face even more. He shrugs you away though, turning. Face to face, no way to run from his dark eyes “I like your eyes” he leans in, and you think finally he’s gong to kiss you. Instead he gets close enough. Blinks fluttery fast, his lashes against yours. Butterfly kisses

You shake your head, cheeks burning, chest tight.

“And your hair? I really like that- even if it is better than mine which is rude. And don't even get me started on your perfume because that? That’s my favorite. And your-”

You slap a hand over his mouth pushing until he gives way. Until your on top thick thighs caging his waist “Stop it, jeeze I lied. I hate your voice, shuddap!”

He makes a few muffled attempts, squirming a bit before giving up. Going lax, bringing his hands behind his head and looking at you with dark eyes that shine and sparkle. He's enjoying this, and the long languid lick he gives to your hand shouldn't feel as good as it does.

You like Eddie, like the way he feels. You like the way he lets you be who you want to be, do what you want to do. Other guys would’ve thrown you off, too heavy. Too dominant. They didnt want to play, but Eddie. Eddie’s wanted to play with you since you hit that doobie behind the gym.

You unbutton your blouse slowly, letting him watch you. He can have it. All of it. Everything. You unhook your bra and those dark eyes go wide.

“This okay?” you ask, taking your hand off of his mouth, resting on his shoulder.

He nods, quick, adam's apple bobbing “Are you even asking me that right now? Yes, fuck yes I am a-okay. The best, really-”

The kiss you cut him off with is messy, too much tongue. Too much want. Why had you wanted this long? Maybe it should’ve have been more romantic- but then again maybe it is? It’s own version of romance, its own courting and dating and being cared for.

Eddies hands are everywhere, eager and exploring and its almost funny until he thumb brushes over your nipple, just on the right side of rough, making you gasp sharp into his mouth, and grind down onto his hard lap in tight circles. Eddie pulls away, just barley. Dragging his slick mouth acros your jaw, down your chest, your hands fist tight his hair as he runs the flat of his tongue along the nub.

It feels too good, mind numbing. Base instinct, two teenagers and in a fogged up car. Breathing eachothers air, tasting each other spit. Fumbly and needy, too fast.

Struggling out of your clothes, you wiggle out of your tight acid washed jeans as Eddie shed’s layer after layer- Hell Fire Club Tee, Leather Jacket, Denim vest. The floor of his van littered. You’re tugging on your pink panties when he blankets himself over you, pushing you back down. The blankets rough on your bare skin.

Eddie’s a weirdo, not a virgin. And most importantly, he’s good with his hands. The long ring donned fingers work magic. The real life kind that gets your back arching and has sounds that would embarrass you to think about later clawing their way from your throat. Feels almost too good as he rests his forehead against yours, noses bumping as he pounds his fingers in and out of you.

He likes it, watching you squirm, watching your hips shift every time he tries to pull his hand away.

He keeps condoms in the glove box, mostly for show. Hope. The off chance that some girl gives him a chance and wants to hook up- once in a blue moon shit. He’s glad for them now, even if it means pulling away from a whining writhing you

When he slides back between your thighs it's a heady feeling. He’s almost vibrating, shaking out of his skin, nervous excitement making him clumsy. He misses. Doesnt slide into you easily, the two of you shifting and giggling, gasping and nosing at one and other until.

Oh.

There.

The inhale you take is shaky and sharp and Eddie groans and buries his head in your neck. Breathing in your sweet perfume as his hips begin to pump.

“O-oh my god. Eddie-” You stutter, holding on to his shoulders. He’s not the thickest guy you’ve been with, but his dicks long. Longer then average forsure. Jabbing at that place inside you, pleasure pain bursting behind your eyelids and you cling to his shoulders. There's no real pace, not from the nineteen year old, but the friction of sweaty bodies feels good, the rocking rhythmic and almost peaceful as you stare up at the van’s ceiling. You like it, the way he moans, the way he tells you how it feels- he really doesn't ever shut up.

Its quick, you’re young and Eddie’s never been with anyone who feels so tight. You can tell when he’s close, when he speeds up to nothing more then a dirty, desperate grind. When his whole body goes taught and his arms tighten around your waist, holding onto you as he rides it out. As he shakes and shudders, needing the grounding. You hold him in the cradle of your thighs.

He pulls out with a hiss and slumps, heavy and boneless on to you and you stroke his back, trail your fingers across his shoulders soothingly. It felt good the minutes that go by in overexerted bliss. It wasnt like you weren't used to not getting yours. Guys just had a one track mind, right? No big deal, you’ll handle it when you get home-

Eddie's head perks up from your chest. Almost like he could read your mind, Isnt that one of his D&D elf powers or whatever?

His animated, recovered enough to have regained that mischievous look. He waggles his tongue, vulgar and pushing corny

“Your turn, mi’lady”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson

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afewproblems · 6 months

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Season Two Halloween AU Part Nine

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

As always, thank you thank you to the lovely Jess @strangersteddierthings for cheering me on, letting me send spoilers, and Steddie screaming with me!

***

Eddie moves, trying to find a comfortable position in the firm plastic hospital chair, letting his legs stretch out into the bulk of the hallway and sliding down the chair.

He won't be able to stay like this for much longer either, but it's worth it for the irritated looks he can feel from the nurses station.

Eddie hadn't been allowed in the room with Steve while he was being assessed, forcing him to wait outside in the hallway.

He can hear them talking, not bothering to be quiet at four in the morning.

"There's no answer, who isn't home at this time of night?"

"Did you try the secondary number?"

"Yes, it's for a business though and all I get is the answering machine for a Richard Harrington".

Eddie frowns, silently agreeing with the first nurse, why the hell aren't they here?

That's when he remembers something Steve had mentioned, so casually, Eddie realizes, feeling a little sick, that his parents wouldn't be home until Thanksgiving this year.

Which is just shy of a month away still, give or take a week.

Just how long have they been gone, he wonders, feeling an anxious pit begin to form in his stomach, and what would that mean for him now?

He's saved from this train of thought for the moment by Hopper appearing at the end of the hall, his heavy step and squeaky boots announcing themselves well before he steps into view.

He looks exhausted, and a little worse for wear, and Eddie has never been happier to see a cop.

He walks past Eddie, though he does spare him a single nod, and makes his way to the nurses station.

"Morning," Hopper says gruffly, his voice crackles as though it's either been used too much or too little recently.

"'M'here about the Harrington kid, we have a few questions for him and his injuries and then I'll be taking him home after his statement".

"Sir, that's not--" one of the Nurses tries, only for Hopper to flash his badge and knock his knuckles once on the top of the desk.

"Which room?" He at least has the decency to ask this time, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

Eddie hears a long sigh as the other Nurse mutters, '206'; Hopper doesn't even wait for her to finish the word before he's turning on his heel, his boots making a horrible squeak against the linoleum tiles as moves.

He slows to a stop in front of Eddie, finally looking at him, it's always been nerve wracking having the chiefs full attention on him, though there's a rather big difference between now and the last time, down at the station.

"They check you out?" He grumbles to Eddie, his fingers tap a nervous rhythm on his leg.

Eddie shakes his head, "Steve took the brunt of everything tonight".

Hopper nods, his gruff face pinched with something close to worry, but it's gone in an instant.

He looks down the hall at something over Eddie's shoulder and lifts his hand in a muted wave before turning back to Eddie.

"You should head home Munson, I took the liberty of getting you a ride".

Eddie frowns at the words and startles slightly as another person sits down beside him, he hadn't even noticed until Wayne was all of a sudden right there.

Eddie blinks, exhaustion and emotion all encompassing; he feels as though he might sink into the floor or tip forward and fall away from the world right then and there, but Wayne reaches out, clasping his shoulder with his firm warm hand. Like he always does.

"Wayne," Eddie says in a tremulous voice, the weight of the night finally crashes over him, the dogs, Billy, the tunnels, it's too much. The image of Steve crumpling to the floor, shards of ceramic in his hair, plays over and over again.

Eddie's face is wet as Wayne pulls him into his arms, he ignores the way the hospital chair digs into his ribs as he moves.

"S'okay Ed," Wayne whispers, letting his hand rub soothing circles on his back, up and down.

Wayne says something above Eddie's head, most likely to Hopper, but he doesn't care, not now. He focuses on the grounding feeling of being held, the warm comfort of knowing that when he needed it, his uncle was there.

He tries not to think about the fact that it's Hopper in Steve's room rather than his parents.

***

They don’t talk after.

It shouldn’t have been surprising really. After the whirlwind in the tunnels, learning that Dustin really had managed to bond with one of the creatures over a mediocre chocolate bar, and finally, finally, getting Steve to the hospital, it was like everything else was put on the back burner.

The government gives them all NDAs to sign, including Wayne now --how was he not going to tell his uncle after the hospital? The government officials had given Eddie a bit of trouble about it during the debrief about their cover story, until Wayne and Hopper had argued his defense.

The worst part though, about everything, is the pretending.

Pretending that everything is normal, like there aren't monsters from an alternate dimension running around Hawkins, like the government didn't know about the real reason so many people, like Mr.Newby, had died. Pretending that small petty things like his late homework assignments, or who was dating who in the wilds of Hawkins High really mattered.

With that being said, the news that Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers were officially dating now, surged through the school.

Pretending that that news doesn't make Eddie feel relieved was also difficult.

Well, maybe relieved isn't the right word, but after Eddie's half-assed confession before the tunnels, and the stay in the hospital, Steve has been avoiding him.

And if it wasn’t because of Nancy….

Well, Eddie tries not to dwell too much on it.

Two weeks after their trip into the Dismal Caverns, Eddie spots, speak of the devil, Nancy Wheeler leaning on his locker.

The last bell has long past so it's only the stragglers now wandering halls, those waiting for Band Practice to start, those just getting out of detention.

Three guesses which one he's here for.

Eddie hasn't seen or spoken to Nancy since their government meeting, not that either had been particularly chatty that night, but she had at least sent a grateful smile Eddie's way as one of the officials went through the whole story of that night.

So to see her now sets his teeth on edge and his stomach plummeting into his shoes.

Is it back, did something happen to Will, did another Demodog surface?

Is Steve okay?

As if Nancy can see the terrified questions swirling around his head, she raises the hand not holding her books to her chest and says lowly, "everyone's fine".

Eddie lets out the breath he's holding, trying to lower his heart rate, "haven't seen you around these parts Wheeler, don't tell me you need a pick me up?"

He tries for a swarthy smile but it falls flat as the adrenalin from his earlier panic is still running rampant, he runs a sweaty hand through his hair, trying to hide the slight shake.

Nancy rolls her eyes and pushes herself off the locker by her shoulder, tipping her head towards the far back door to the building.

She says nothing as she leads him out of the school and towards his usual picnic table in the trees.

Eddie tugs his leather jacket around his torso as a harsh November breeze kicks up dead leaves and dust around the school building in small whirls. He wishes in this moment he had found a zip up closure rather than one with button snaps.

Eddie laughs nervously as they enter the treeline, "uh huh, you sure you didn't want something?"

Nancy turns to sit on top of the table, her face impassive, "Mrs. Click was still there, in her room, I don't need to have any meetings with her and my parents because they think I'm being corrupted," she lifts her hands and makes exaggerated quotations with her fingers before rolling her eyes again.

"We can talk here," she says primly, setting her books down on the table beside her.

Eddie grins, "you're probably setting yourself up for a meeting with the counselor tomorrow anyway, walking out of the school with me".

He kicks at a bottle cap in the grass and watches as it tumbles a few feet away. When he looks back up, Nancy is staring at him with a pinched brow.

"I'll bite, what's going on?"

Nancy nods and it's like a switch flips, her spine straightens slightly and her shoulders square before a determined expression smoothes out her face, it's eerie how similar it is to Steve's.

"What is he to you?" Nancy asks,

"Who?" Eddie stumbles over the word, already knowing exactly who Nancy is asking about.

She looks around now, prompting Eddie to do the same, just in case.

"I know it isn't," she hesitates for a beat as though searching for the word, "safe to talk about it, but," she blinks once, twice, "that's part of why I'm here, asking".

"I won't see Steve get hurt, not again".

"So," Nancy stands now, gracefully rising to her feet and stepping off the table, she takes a step closer towards Eddie, "what is he to you?"

He has a good five or six inches on her at least but the fire in her blue eyes makes him feel so much smaller in this moment.

Eddie feels a snarl build in his chest, the words tumbling out before he can get a chance to really think about them.

"That's fucking rich coming from you, as though you didn't rip his heart out at that stupid Halloween party".

Nancy's face pales slightly, but there's blood in the water now.

He never really had the heart to ask Steve this question, and he probably never would have been able to actually answer it.

But Nancy can.

"Steve is brave, fucking reckless but he's brave, and selfless, and he cares so much --about everything,"

Eddie forces himself to stay where he is, to not move, but his voice climbs in volume, carrying through the trees.

"You had that and you threw it away Wheeler, and you come in here asking what he is to me?"

He watches as Nancy looks around them frantically watching for people, but Eddie doesn't care, he keeps going.

"He's more than some bullshit you toss in the trash".

There are twin spots of red on the high points of her cheekbones, matching the flush painting her ears, Nancy pins him with a frosty glare as she breathes out slowly through her nose.

"Well, you certainly care, don't you, that's a question answered at least".

She clears her throat and blinks again, and to Eddie's horror, her eyes shine with tears in the afternoon sun.

"You don't know what it was like after everything last year, how hard it was".

She wipes roughly at one of the tears that rolls down her cheek, cutting it off.

"I wanted to talk about it, I wanted to tell Barb's parents what happened to their daughter, my--"

Nancy swallows roughly, her nostrils flaring, "my best friend, was dead".

"And Steve wanted to pretend that everything was fine, that it was normal," she clears her throat and wipes at her eyes again, "and I can't do that, I don't have it in me to let it go yet".

Eddie nods, he gets it.

He didn't understand how everyone was able to just go on like everything in the last week didn't happen, or if he will ever forget the sounds those things made as they screamed in the darkness, that people had died that night.

He can't pretend either and it's a relief to know he isn't the only one.

Eddie opens his mouth to apologize but Nancy keeps going, her words softer this time.

"I don't really believe that Steve has been able to let it go either if I'm being honest," Nancy says, her eyes searching Eddie's face as she speaks, "he sleeps with the hall lights on, did he tell you? He can't stand the dark anymore".

"Yeah," Eddie breathes out, "he's said it before, I didn't know about the hall, but.."

He lets the thought trail off, it makes sense. It's not as though he's been sleeping well since everything ended either. Wayne had woken him up that first night to stop his screaming and calm him down, he ended up crawling in with Wayne for the rest of the night, something he hadn't done since he was eight.

Eddie startles slightly at the sudden small hand touching his arm. Nancy pulls back almost immediately at his flinch, regret painting her face.

"Steve needs something that I can't give him," and I need more than he can give me, it wasn't meant to last".

"I didn't mean to hurt him, but that doesn't mean I'm good with Steve getting hurt again and again, he has enough of that with his parents".

Eddie nods again, "have they always been like that?"

Nancy's face darkens for just a moment before smoothing out again.

"In the year we were together, I met them once," she wraps her arms around herself and shivers as another breeze rips through the clearing, "he always made excuses for why they were gone or when they would be back".

She looks up at Eddie now, her wide blue eyes still red rimmed from earlier, "he told me about you, that night".

Oh.

Suddenly the weighted looks Nancy had been giving him make more sense. The small conspiratorial smile.

"Yeah well, he's been avoiding me," Eddie admits softly, lifting his hand to snag a lock of hair, "so I wouldn't hold your breath".

Nancy nods and shivers against a rough gust of wind that shifts the trees and swirls the leaves around the table. She looks into the distance suddenly, her eyes catching something behind Eddie as they widen before darting back to his face.

He turns his head to look behind him, only to see Hawkins Middle through the trees.

"Steve's good at pretending, but he doesn't have the same kind of friends around him that would just accept that version of him now, he's got us --well," Nancy stutters momentarily, "he's got you, and the kids, I'm pretty sure Dustin thinks Steve's an action here now".

Eddie snorts, prompting a smile out of Nancy. He takes a small step forward before offering his elbow. Nancy looks from his arm to Eddie's face once before reaching out to curl her hands around it.

"Alright Wheeler," he says with a grin, "how do we do this? I know you've got a plan rolling around that brain of yours and I'm cold as shit so let's move this to the van".

Nancy smiles again, tilting her head towards the Middle School once more, "How do you feel about Dances?"

Tag List: Please Note the List is Officially Closed

@eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @steveshairspray @hellfireone @eddielives1986 @sunswathe @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson @queenie-ofthe-void @rainbowsaw @sp0o0kylights @littlebluejane @hi-im-eff @phantypurple @just-ladyme @thoroughlycollected @justrandomfandomstm @swimmingbirdrunningrock @finntheehumaneater @dynamic-powerm@nightmareglitter @genderless-spoon @zaddipax @thebiblesays @pyrohonk @emly03 @geekymagicalpotato @sidebarre @lemon-astra @cipounette @discreetapple @starlitlakes @saphhicwitchbitch @marvel-ous-m @lingeringmirth @honorarybrit81 @bookbinderbitch @finntheehumaneater @lololol-1234 @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @monsterloverforhire @gaydrieeen @starlight-archer @homosexual-having-tea @devondespresso @rennnnon @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog @carlprocastinator1000 @0o-queendean-o0 @emly03 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @louismeds @fruitmix

@lizzicleromance @fairy-princette @eddiethehunted

And a few people I think may be intersted!

@steddierthings @steddie-there @stevesbipanic @henderdads @spooky-brakers

Part Ten Now Up (Final Part)

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