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thewulf · 9 months

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Frozen || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Aaron has a new neighbor, a sweet young woman. There's something between them. She new in the city and he invites her when he has the team over for a bbq... Read Rest Here

A/N: Ahh, just love him! Enjoy :)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 5.2k+

It was hot. Way too hot. You’d been out weeding the garden for far too long now. A sweaty mess with dirt coating far too many different parts of your body. Super cute look. You were on a mission to get the damn garden bed weeded out. You’d, very fortunately, inherited the house from your aging grandma who wanted to downsize. You’d visited throughout the years and fell in love with the home and the area. The best thing about having a small family is that nobody fought you for the home.

But boy, were you in over your head. It wasn’t a massive home you’d just never owned one before and things were a tad overwhelming. Everything suddenly becoming your responsibility when you were least expecting it. Not that you were complaining. You owned a paid off home. How much better could it get than that?

The only thing that seemed to rip you right from your focus of pulling weeds was the small voice of boy behind you wondering about you, “Daddy! Who’s that new lady?” Shit. You were in the middle of crawling around the damn garden bed. Cursing lightly, you stood and turned towards the sidewalk with a smile on your face while simultaneously attempting wipe the dirt off your face but only smudging it further.

When you turned your heart about sunk to the floor. Why you? Why of all people that had to walk on by was it him? You were looking into the eyes of perhaps one of the most handsome men you’d come across in all of your years. And you were covered in dirt? The universe was playing a cruel trick on you.

Looking down at yourself you cursed yourself again. Quickly you looked back to the boy responding to him, “Hello.” You waved to the small boy keeping your eyes off his extremely attractive father, “I just moved in here.”

His eyes lit up, “A new neighbor?” He looked up to what you assumed to be his dad with big bright eyes pulling on his pants, “What happened to Mrs. Fields?” He looked you over curiously.

An interested one, he took a few steps forward to converse with you. A fearless little guy, “Mrs. Fields is my grandma. She wanted to go live in a warmer place, so she let me have her home and she moved down south.”

He took another few steps, almost to you now. His father had a pleading look in his eyes as if to apologize for his chatty son, “Cool! Do you like dinosaur’s?” He asked you excitedly.

“I love dinosaurs.” You knelt down so you were chatting with him on his level, “They’re like the coolest animals.” You responding drawing both a soft smile out of his father and fist pump from the little one.

“I know right!” He stepped even closer now, “Which one is your favorite?”

“Jack.” His father put a gentle hand on his sons shoulder, “You can ask about dinosaur’s another time. She’s busy.”

You shook your head looking up to him from your crouched position, “It’s alright. Gives me an excuse to take a break.” You turned back to Jack giving him a sweet smile, “My favorite dinosaur has to be the Velociraptor.”

He nodded excitedly at you, “That’s a good pick, but not the best…. Wait, what’s your name?” He asked after realizing he hadn’t asked earlier.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you Jack.” You held you hand out for the little boy to take or reject.

He happily took your hand in his, albeit being three times the size. With a cheeky grin coating his face he responded, “It’s nice to meet you Y/N. That’s my dad! Daddy”

You looked away from Jack at his dad smiling at him, dirty face, and all, “Hi dad.” You waved up to him.

You could’ve sworn a hint of a blush crossed his face, “Aaron.” He held out his hand for you to take. Offering help up from the squat you’d been stuck in for a little too long. You took it feeling all too comfortable doing so, “We live next door.” He pointed over to his house, “Let either of us know if you ever need anything. Jack here loves to help.” He patted his sons head. For some reason that didn’t surprise you, not a bit.

“Thank you.” Your raging anxiety of home ownership dwindling a bit as you got to know the seemingly handy man next door.

He nodded smiling down at you, “We mean it. Now, let’s go Jack. You have homework to finish before soccer tonight.”

He groaned, “Okay dad. Bye Y/N.” He hugged your leg quickly before waltzing off with a pep in his step.

“Bye Jack.” You laughed watching him run over to his home, sliding in through the back door they left open.

“He’s a cutie.” You turned back to the rather striking man who just happened to be your neighbor. You wondered who his wife was. What she looked like. He had to have one right?

He ran a hand through his hair letting out a soft sigh, “He’s a handful, that’s for sure.”

“Aren’t all young boys?” You grinned.

He nodded, “That might be the truth.” He let out a small laugh, “I’ll let you get back to it. Nice meeting you Y/N.” His smile made him even more handsome. Damn. Did you have a crush on the older neighbor or what?

You nodded, “Likewise, see you around Aaron.” He tried to slow his racing heart hearing his name off your lips. Oh, he was in trouble. He waved going to the front of the house before disappearing within it.

See him around you did, whenever he was home at least. You’d become fast friends with Jack often playing with his dinosaurs in your shared backyards. You couldn’t say no to the sweet face when he asked so kindly, not even if you tried. Aaron had told you plenty of times that it was okay to ignore him, but you couldn’t. Especially when Aaron was home, he’d always come outside and join the two of you when he had the time.

You’d gotten to know, and love, the far too kind man over the last few months. You’d learned of his devastating past. You’d felt awful for him and just as equally broken for Jack. He’d lost his mom before he even got to know her and cherish her.

He’d gotten to know you too. Falling just as much for you as you did him. You were something nobody, but he and Jack knew about. A simple pleasure to come home to. He’d learned how you were a nurse, but you were back in school going for a Nurse Practitioner position. Aaron admired your drive for what you did. He really just admired you. The far too cute for your own good neighbor he’d never admitted he had a crush on.

You asked about work. He didn’t tell you much. But as the months progressed his lips became like putty around you. Anything you asked he answered. It felt to right to fight whatever this was. You were too young for him. Too you, he had to keep telling himself.

You’d learned about the team. How Derek was a player but a lover deep down. How Reid was the boy genius of the group. How JJ turned out to excel as a profiler. You’d learned about them all. It felt like you knew them. It felt odd to think you knew people who didn’t have a clue about you.

So, one summer evening a devious plan sparked in your mind as you were sitting in the sandbox across from Aaron. You smiled up at him giving him a look. A look he picked up on, “What?” He asked making sure not to draw Jack’s attention away from the castle he was building.

You shook your head, “Nothing, just thinking.”

“About?” He pressed leaning forward with his elbows on his knees looking right at you.

“We should have a cookout. A barbeque. When you guys are here for a weekend.” You said as nonchalantly as possible feeling the nerves bubble up when you spoke.

He raised an eyebrow processing it. He’d kept you as his own for so long. Would it ruin things if he mixed his personal life with his work life like it had so often before? He knew deep down that’s why he was hiding you away. Every time these paths crossed bad, bad things happened. He couldn’t be the reason why somebody else got hurt. He wouldn’t.

“If you want.” You added making sure there was no pressure. You understood his apprehension to letting you all the way in.

“Sure.” The words were out of his mouth before he really thought about it too much longer. The grin that crossed your face was all worth it though. He’d really do anything to see that smile.

“Really?”

He nodded, “Next weekend? If we don’t get called in? I can ask the team Monday.” He didn’t want to blow their phones up on a weekend off. Rare as they were. He knew the chances were slim that it’d happen that weekend, but he wanted to show you he was committed to it.

You nodded gleefully, “That sounds great. I’ll iron out the details this weekend.” You were a little nervous at the thought. But you knew they had to be great if he talked so highly of them.

He was wrong. They had an easy case that week that brought them home early on a Friday. They all said their goodbyes planning to meet at his place around 6:00 that night for the cookout. You’d gotten the final confirmation and started preparing everything the second he gave you the green light. It didn’t have to be perfect but you sure as hell wanted it to go smoothly.

There was nothing to stress about, just as Aaron had reassured you numerous times that evening leading up to everybody arriving. He could see the anxiety radiating off you

“Would you stop staring?” You asked pacing back and forth trying to think of any last-minute details.

He shook his head, “Not until you relax.”

You let out a huff. It was sweet but not the right time, “I just want it to go well, that’s all. I’ll relax once everybody is here.”

He was right, naturally. There was nothing to be stressed about. Each one more lovely than the next. Jack had gravitated towards you most of the night, even holding your hand and hiding behind you when Rossi was playing with him. Derek noticed Hotch watching you throughout the night. Smiling more than he’d ever seen the man before in his life. Derek clocked it quickly. Hotch probably didn’t even realize what he was doing. A man who was about to deny his feelings.

Derek had cornered his boss in the kitchen of his home not having a clue you were sitting in the room over responding to a few texts you ignored while getting the party ready.

“Hotch, what the hell?” You heard Derek’s booming voice from where you were sitting. You peaked up from your phone way too curious to hear the conversation that was so easily heard from the kitchen.

“What?” He sounded a bit taken aback by the confrontation, if only you could see their faces.

Derek laughed, “You know what.”

A brief pause, “I’m afraid I don’t Morgan.” He sounded a little agitated now. Nothing like he did when he was with you. It was interesting to watch him, listen to him, in such a different environment than the two of you had found so often.

You didn’t know Derek, but you had to assume he was rolling his eyes at that moment, “You like her. Your neighbor. Y/N.” This, you were not expecting.

“What are you talking about?” He answered. Ouch. Your heart was still racing though. What in the hell was he going to say next?

“Don’t play dumb. You’ve been smiling like a love drunk fool for the last two hours. You’ve been watching her like a hawk.” Profilers were scary. You hadn’t even noticed. Far too preoccupied with socializing and making sure everything was going okay.

He sighed, “She’s too young Derek.” You frowned. That was just untrue. You were in your late twenties. What’s twelve or so years?

“She’s not too young. Stop that. You’re talking yourself out of it.” Derek replied to his friend.

What came next hurt, hurt deeply, “She’s not my type though. She’s too young and not my type. It would never happen.” The sting that came from your heart radiated with each pulse.

Derek let out a howl, “That’s rich Hotchner. Whatever you want to tell yourself boss man.”

You didn’t let yourself hear the rest of the conversation. You shot right out of his house making a beeline towards the ladies with a fake ass smile adorning it. You’d successfully avoided him the rest of the night not able to bear the thought of looking at him. Who were you kidding? He was just being kind to you because you were kind to his son. Nothing more. Nothing less. No hard feelings. But you had the feelings. Real feelings that weren’t going to go away unless he went away. Operation avoid Aaron Hotchner was a go.

You’d been successful the better part of a month. Lucky for you he had been pretty wrapped up in cases leaving you and Jack more time to connect while Jess watched him. When Aaron was there you’d strategically leave when he showed up bidding a goodnight with some lame ass excuse. Jack would wine and Aaron would give you a pained nod in response. You never gave them much time to question you before you dashed home.

Aaron wasn’t dumb. This was his job for God’s sake. He knew it had something to do with him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what he could’ve done, and it was slowly driving him mad. Jack was getting frustrated too. You’d be fine until dad came around. He needed to figure it out. He missed you. He missed laughing and smiling with you.

He’d thought about it for days while he was off on a case. He thought about it as the team landed at the airport late on a Saturday night merging into Sunday morning. You on the other hand were having the time of your life out with your friends drinking far too much. Tipsiness, soon to be drunkenness, consumed your body throughout the night. You pouted when your friends pulled you into the backseat of one of their boyfriends SUV’s, making sure to drop all the girls off safe and sound.

You’d waved them off before you had the chance to actually enter the house. You fumbled with your keys before finding the right one. A shiver ripped down your spine, it was chilly. Odd for a summer evening you thought to yourself.

You turned the key in the lock only to rip the key right in half as you turned it. One half in your hand and the other stuck in the lock, “Fuck.” You began to panic. Your spare key was with a friend so you couldn’t even get in through the back. You tried to pick the key out of the lock only to be met with resistance. You were far too drunk to be dealing with this right now. The lock kept going in and out of focus.

You looked down at your phone, no. No, there was no way in hell you were calling him. You were too young and not his type. You couldn’t be the burden. Think, you had to think. After standing there for far too long without a damn thought in your mind you sat down on the bench you had outside. No locksmith’s would be open at this hour. Your parents were out of state. You didn’t have any family around. You could try and call a friend, but they were all probably still too drunk and passed out by now.

You groaned laying back on the bench thankful you’d at least turned the house light on before you left. Deciding that sleep would be better than lying awake dizzy all night you tried your best to get some sleep. Teeth chattering you curled up in a ball trying to preserve some warmth it felt like sleep would never come.

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point because when you were woken up very abruptly it was still dark. You let out a small yelp before thrashing out at whomever grabbed your wrist.

“It’s me.” That familiar voice calmed you down instantly. Your thrashing stopped but your head still spun. Yup, you were definitely still drunk. Damn tequila sodas were lethal to you. But you’d never stop.

“What?” You asked far too confused. Shivering even more than you were earlier. What time was it anyway?

He pulled you up in a swift motion shrugging his jacket off placing it around your shivering frame softly, “What are you doing?” He asked urgently feeling how cold you really were as he held onto your frozen wrists.

You mumbled something incoherent feeling the ill effects of the cold. You wrapped his warm jacket around you further trying to find any ounce of warmth you could in it. It smelled too damn good on top of it. It made your already dizzy head even fuzzier.

He placed a gentle hand on your cheek trying to get you to look at him, “Can you hear me?” His heart was racing. One moment he was pulling into the driveway. He always looked over at your house just to check, he always did when he pulled in late. His heart about dropped out of his body when he saw you laying there. He hadn’t thought much of it before running over to you. You were okay. You were fine. When you didn’t respond to his calls he had to resort to shaking you gently.

You mumbled some more clear “Yes’s”, but he still didn’t buy it. Not a bit. He looked you over quickly making sure you weren’t hurt before turning your body to his.

“That’s it.” He didn’t waste a second more before scooping you up into his arms with ease. You leaned your head into his chest shamelessly absorbing the warmth within you. It just felt too good to pass up. You’d let yourself be embarrassed later.

Once he got you inside he set you down on the couch. He wrapped you from head to toe in a few different blankets. You nuzzled in suddenly very thankful your neighbor had not only found you put kind of saved your ass. You were cold. Freezing. Who knows what you would’ve been like in the morning. Frozen most likely.

“I put a few blankets in the dryer for ten minutes. That should help warm you up.” Aaron squatted down so he was level with your horizontal body. With the utmost caution he brushed some hair out of your eyesight. Your body shivered at his touch sending a grimace to his face.

“Thank you.” You were more coherent but totally tipsy. The effects of the alcohol had finally started dying down, but it was still there.

His eyes snapped to yours. He must’ve been thinking the same thing. Not expecting you to be coherent just yet, “What the hell were you doing? Thinking? You could’ve been attacked out there. You could’ve frozen to death out there Y/N.” He sighed knowing he needed to reel it back. You were probably just as freaked out as he was.

You turned away. His stare suddenly too much for you to handle, “I’m sorry.” You closed your eyes willing the alcohol to just go away.

He ran a hand through his dark hair. He needed to try again, “What happened?” There, that was a start.

You started on how you went out with your friends and ending with the “My key snapped in the lock.” Holding up the broken stub still attached to your keyring.

Aaron frowned taking it from you, “Why didn’t you call.”

You shrugged, “Didn’t want to bother you.”

A groan escaped his lips, “You are never a bother. You have to know that. Please, just call me next time, okay?” Again, he wracked his brain for anything that he could’ve done. Why you’d pulled back so suddenly on him. It just didn’t make sense. What happened at the cookout? What did he do?

“Okay.” You didn’t feel like arguing. Not anymore. You were tired and cold but thankfully warming up. You knew that’d appease the man.

He sat down from the kneeling position, “Thank you.”

You didn’t respond only nodding a little. You finally felt warm. Wiggling your toes, you sighed in relief. He just watched you. Watched as your eyes drooped, clearly tired. Before he could respond the dryer went off. He shot to his feet the moment he heard it go off, “Wait here.”

You didn’t listen. You shrugged off the blankets. Why oh why were you still so drunk? You tried shrugging it off. Pushing off the couch you stood to your feet wobbling in the slightest. You hadn’t made it a few steps before you heard his voice again.

“What are you doing?” His scolding voice asked you. Your eyes shot up from the floor looking right at him. Blood rushed right to your cheeks. Busted. What else would’ve happened? You weren’t thinking right.

“Walking.” You smiled hesitantly feeling the room begin to spin around you.

He didn’t return the smile. His lips drawn in a harsh line. Mean Aaron Hotchner was terrifying. You wobbled slightly before stepping to the side.

“What were you thinking? You could’ve died out there! You were half frozen when I found you. Somebody could have found you before I did! Did you even think? You’ll be lucky if you don’t catch pneumonia let alone a nasty cold.” He dropped the warm blankets on the ground ready for the inevitable. He was pissed but he was trying to reel it in for your sake. You looked like a scared deer caught in some headlights.

You shook your head quickly, “I’m sorry.” You mumbled for a second time wiping your eyes quickly, not daring to cry in front of him right now. It was too much though, he was too much, “I can’t… I can’t do this.” You let out trying to walk around him. But between the tears, alcohol, achy muscles, and him you nearly tripped right onto your face had he not been standing right there. With quick reflexes Aaron caught you before you toppled completely. He pulled you up into his arms.

“What is going on Y/N?” His eyes searched yours as he steadied you back on your feet, desperate for some kind of answer. You stepped back away from his burning grip you liked far too much. Far, far too much for somebody who didn’t like you. Staying away from Aaron Hotchner was just not working. The operation was suddenly amiss.

Fuck it. Who cares if he knew? You’d blame the alcohol for this confession anyway, “I heard you.” You let out.

He shook his head, unsure of what you were referring to, “Where? What’d you hear?” He was afraid you’d heard some gruesome detail of his job he’d never be able to recover from. He wasn’t expecting you to say the next words that came out of your mouth though.

“At the barbeque. You and Derek in the kitchen.” You looked down and away. Anywhere but his eyes, you just couldn’t. Not after admitting that.

He thought for a moment and cursed. How could he have been so stupid? You watched as he registered your words. His mouth opened to say something before it closed, taking it back. Never letting that thought come to life.

You couldn’t take the silence, not knowing what he was thinking, “I’m sorry, let me call a friend. I’ll get out of here.”

He shook his head quickly, “No, please don’t.” He picked up a blanket before wrapping it around you at a distance, “Stay. Sit. Please?” He spoke in broken sentences as he watched you. Watched as you went through the different options in your head.

Of course, you would. You’d do anything for him, that much was clear. A sucker for Aaron Hotchner. You walked over to the kitchen table with him close in tow just in case you were to stumble again. He only relaxed when you were seated and steady. You place your hands on the table waiting for him to say something. You were at a loss for words, it was his turn to speak.

He looked around before his eyes landed on your glassy ones, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” It sounded awful as it came out of his mouth, and he knew it. He knew it from the way your eyebrow arched up as if to question him.

You couldn’t help the light chuckle that escaped your lips, “Clearly.”

“No.” He groaned palming his hands across his face, “That’s not what I meant. I just wanted him to back off is all. It was the easiest thing to do to get him to do so.” Aaron pleaded both with his hands and his eyes right next to you at the table.

You rolled your eyes. You wanted to believe him. You really did. But were you too young? Were you not his type? I mean you were you. Not unattractive but not the most beautiful creature to walk across the stage either.

“Y/N, Jesus, I…” He sighed taking one of your hands by surprise. Your eyes finally found his again. He’d finally gotten your attention again, “I feel things for you that I shouldn’t. You aren’t too young for me but I’m far too old for you. You’re incredible. Kind. Sweet. One of the funniest people I’ve ever met. The way you treat Jack is unlike anything I’d ever dreamed of. As hard as it is for me to say, you should find somebody that isn’t as old as me.” He smiled giving your hand a squeeze before hesitantly dropping it.

You let out a breath you’d been holding in. Well, he’d laid it all out on the line for you. It made sense. But it didn’t. He didn’t even give a chance to voice your opinion. You didn’t care. It didn’t bother you. You in fact had never met anybody like him before. No man had ever asked you the question he’d asked you before. Gotten to know you so deeply, right down to your core. It wasn’t even really your fault you fell in love with the man as quickly as you did. He did everything you wanted, you needed.

You took his hand back, relishing in the feeling, “What if I don’t want to?”

“You should.” He tried once more.

But you weren’t having it, “Not.”

He shook his head letting his fingers lace with yours, “Y/N.”

“Aaron.” You widened your eyes giving his hand a squeeze this time, “Can I have a word now?”

He nodded, “Yeah, sorry.” That was the second time you’d seen a blush on his cheeks. He must’ve been feeling awfully vulnerable or maybe he was finally letting you in.

“You’re unlike any man I’ve ever met Aaron Hotchner. You’ve made me feel things I’ve never ever felt or dreamed of feeling before and you’ve only been my friend. You too are so kind, incredibly sweet, the most thoughtful guy and the best dad I’ve seen. You balance everything so beautifully. You’re a light and I love being around you if you’d want me to that is.” You felt as his thumb brushed up and down your index finger. A chill shot right up your arm and down your back when you realized what he was doing.

“I know I shouldn’t, but I like you. A lot more than I should.” He pulled your hand up so he could kiss the back of it. You watched as his lips brushed across the back of your hand so gently it only made you ache for something more. That was just cruel.

You grinned squeezing his hand tight, “I like you too. A whole lot. Who cares what you should or shouldn’t feel. That’s stupid. I like you. You like me. It’s that simple.” It was a combination of everything that had your eyes watering. It felt so damn good to spit it out at him. To let him know how you felt. To ramble everything out. You didn’t just like him. You loved the damn man.

He laughed shaking his head. You admired him as you watched the smile grow on his face, “Is it that simple?”

You shrugged, “I don’t see why it couldn’t be.”

He stood from the seat pulling you up with him. He pulled you close seeing as you were still as unsure of your own steps as ever, “How much have you had to drink tonight?” Damn profilers know everything, not that it wasn’t terribly obvious.

Might as well play it off, right? You leaned forward whispering in his ear, “You sound like a scary officer when you ask that.” You noticed the small shiver that rocked his body as you did so. A small, satisfied smile graced your lips as you drew back.

He shook his head running his eyes up and down your frame wrapped in a blanket, “Are you warm enough?”

You saluted him, “Yes, sir. And for the record I only had eight drinks tonight.”

He laughed, “Stop that. This is serious.” He put his hands on your shoulders to steady you out, “You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you right now.” He pulled back, as much as he didn’t want to.

You whined looking up to him, “Then do it.”

“No can-do pretty lady. You’re intoxicated.” He answered far too quickly for your liking.

“So? I can still make decisions.” You challenged his ability to use reason. So persistent you were being.

“Afraid not, let’s get you to sleep.” He let his hands fall from your shoulders.

You frowned, “Oh, come on Aaron.” Maybe pouting would work. But no, he was too much of a gentleman for your own good.

He shook his head quickly, “Let’s make a deal. How about, if in the morning you still want to kiss me, I’ll let you do just that?”

You sighed, “Fine. Come find me first thing though. Promise me that?” You started walking towards the couch before a light tug at your wrist stopped you.

He nodded in response to you, “I promise. There’s a guest room sweetheart. Let me tuck you in.” He pointed up the steps.

You nodded sheepishly feeling his eyes on you the entire way up. Before he could protest you pulled off your top off leaving you in a tank top and jean shorts, comfortable enough. He gulped as he watched the entire ordeal play out before him, thankful you weren’t just in a bra.

“Sleep tight.” He brushed the stray hairs out of your face once you slid under the covers, fighting every urge in him to lean down and kiss you goodnight. Not yet.

“Night Aaron.” You yawned letting the warmth of the bed consume you, “Can’t wait to kiss the crap out of you in the morning.”

He laughed, that full hearty Aaron Hotchner laugh that warmed your soul, “Goodnight sweetheart. I’ll find you first thing.” A smile adorned your face as you fell asleep to those words.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556

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phantoms-world-and-more · 8 months

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Danny inherited an abandoned amusement park from his estranged uncle on his mom's side after he passed. The man barely had any contact with the family because he hated Jack. Danny needed something to do after the space program he was working for letting him go for having a "heart murmer" after he had flown a handful of missions. Danny didn't really want to worry his family back in Amity and he was really starting to fit in around Gotham as the local weird space guy so Danny headed to the park right outside Gotham to see if he can use his funds from the royal vault to fund the repairs and reopening of Happy Hollows Fun Park, a forest themed amusement park with a colorful cast of characters

Happy Hare

Sally skunk

Flora Fawn

Ted. E. Bear

Wally Wolf

Phoebe Fox

Olly Opossum

Bethany Bluejay

Danny gets several ghosts to help fix the park, Technus is in charge of rewiring the entire park, Walker manages the progress on the reconstruction, Box ghost is in charge of prop repair, Lunch lady gets put in charge of fixing up the restaurants in the park, Youngblood helps with updated the characters since the park was originally open from 1950 to 1978 without updating the character designs. Danny also hires actually people to help out, mainly folks that had been involved in goon work and wanted to try making an honest living. He uses a little magic so the ghosts look human. Skulker gets hired as on site security as well. Danny builds a walk through attraction as an in park museum.

The bats get suspicious when Danny drags a very injured Joker back to Arkham after the psycho clown tried to fill his park with laughing gas because Danny apparently stole quite a few of his goons

#daily prompt #dc x dp #dp x dc #fic prompt #funny

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happiest-hotch · 1 year

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Deserving

Summary: Aaron has a rough day being a dad, and you reassure him that he is very deserving of your family

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Angst/Fluff)

Word Count: 2.3k

Life with three children is not always easy. It's crazy to think it's been over a year since you and Aaron went from having two kids- Jack and your daughter, Eden- to three, adding sweet baby Noah to the family.

Mornings, although they've become a well-oiled routine, are always a challenge, but they're a satisfying one to complete.

Today, Aaron's slightly changed the patterns. Without an early morning budget meeting, mountains of paperwork, or active case, he's home until a 10 am call time for a case briefing at the BAU, which is very rare for a weekday.

So, instead of breakfast duty, you're taking the first shower while he handles getting everyone fed.

You don't doubt his abilities, but your morning showers are always quick and effective, as opposed to your relaxing nighttime ones, which, when you're lucky, take place with Aaron, so you're dressed and ready for the day quickly. However, the glorious difference of having someone else there is that you don't get interrupted once.

The chaos quickly catches up when you walk downstairs and hear your sweet baby boy crying loudly, very unhappy.

Aaron's frantically trying to calm the tear, offering him different types of cereal as a substitute for his toast and every juice in the fridge as he deduces the cause of an early morning crying fit. Jack looks done with his younger brother, sitting at the kitchen island with his hands over his ears, which makes it difficult for him to eat. He'd love a momentary reprieve of being able to travel two years back in time. He adores his younger brother, but you're not totally sure he wouldn't send him back for some momentary peace. As for Eden, she's nowhere to be found.

You spot the problem in a second, walking over and kissing the top of Jack's head before ruffling his hair affectionately. "Can you stop him now?" He implores.

Aaron looks at you with similarly pleading eyes, ready to admit defeat.

You take the plate from in front of the toddler, open the cupboard and take a different one out before you switch the food over and slide the new plate across the countertop.

In a second, his tears stop, and he digs into his toast like nothing has happened. The tears on his red hot cheeks dry as he eats happily. With a look of thanks, Jack digs into his breakfast.

"He doesn't like the blue plate." You explain to Aaron.

Your husband frowns, as confused as you were when you first noticed the quirk. "He eats off it every night." You've even learned to bring it to Rossi's for your fussy baby.

"Only at night and occasionally afternoon snack." You report to him.

Aaron's heart sinks, and the fact he doesn't know that about his own child hits him deep down. It's no secret that he's not always there, physically much less than most dads, and it weighs heavily on him.

"Oh." He lets out, trying to mask the disappointment he feels with himself. He turns around, grabbing your favorite mug. "Coffee, baby."

You smile, kissing his lips before gratefully taking the mug. "Thank you." You glance around the room again, not seeing a four-year-old coming running into the room. "Where's E?"

Aaron quickly puts down his mug. "Shit."

Jack chuckles at his dad's unusual swear before looking down at his oatmeal when Aaron glowers at him.

"It's okay." You place a gentle hand on his chest. "I'll sort her." With a quick kiss on Noah's forehead, you leave before Aaron can stop you.

Her great drama of the morning is an easy fix when you brush through her hair with the detangler meant for dry hair, not wet. She didn't inherit straight hair like her older brother and dad, and she wants to keep her hair long, which means it gets knotted overnight. You don't blame Aaron for the hiccup. He can't have known when you're the one who usually brushes his hair- his specialty being braiding- and the bottles look identical aside from the tiny writing, which you know he can't see because, although you wouldn't tell him, he probably should be wearing reading glasses.

"What's wrong?" Aaron asks, his voice laced with panic when his head peaks around her door.

"You're done, baby." You tell her, letting her climb off the chair and go to brush her teeth. You walk over to Aaron, hoping to provide some relief that nothing is wrong and that his children are just as dramatic as he is. "She only uses the one in the bathroom if her hair is wet. When it's dry, it's the one at her dressing table." You love your boys, biologically related to you or not, so much, but you love having a girly girl. Aaron's out of his depth. Even learning to braid took effort and nights of practicing on your hair, but he succeeded. As ill-prepared as he feels for the future, you know he'll always try for his baby girl. It's something you adore about him.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes sheepishly, looking down at the carpet.

You wrap your arm around his waist, and his arms hold you tightly, both of you appreciating a quick hug in the hallway. "You can't expect yourself to be perfect."

But you are. Aaron doesn't say it, but it's on the tip of his tongue.

"Go get ready." You instruct him. "I'll hold down the fort."

You're always holding down the fort. "Okay." He agrees, only leaving your side after taking a long kiss that he feels undeserving of.

Aaron's packed Eden and Jack's lunchboxes, which you're sure he's added loving notes to.

You get Noah changed for daycare, making sure he's got an extra change of clothing in his bag since he got paint all over his spare shirt.

Then you place him in front of the TV to watch cartoons with his siblings. Jack's too old for them, but he's such a good big brother that he never complains.

Your next task is packing lunch for the person who overlooked packing it for himself, writing him a note that you hope makes him smile.

He's also effective at getting himself ready, often having to do it quickly and in the middle of the night without enough sleep, and he's finished quicker than you were.

Aaron surveys the scene in the living room when he comes downstairs to find it quiet, much different from how you had. "How are they all ready to go?" He asks, and you see confusion where he's plagued with self-doubt.

"You did a lot of it." You assure him, aware your role this morning was fixing mistakes. "Are you taking Jack, and I'll take the other two?"

He's quiet for a second, brain buzzing away inside his head. "Yes. Yeah, that works." He agrees.

You notice those little details, but it's easy to assume it's about the incoming stress of his workday. "Okay, well, I love you."

That gets a quicker reaction. "I love you, too." He says, cupping your cheeks to kiss you sweetly.

"Team Hotchner?" You offer out a fist bump.

Aaron takes it with a chuckle that momentarily halts his frown. "Team Hotchner." He turns to the living room. "Jack, you ready?"

He nods, high-fiving his sibling before tossing his backpack over his shoulder and walking to the door.

"Love you, and have a good day." You tell him, pulling him into a side hug.

He hugs you properly. "Love you too."

Then two of your favorite people are out the door to continue their days, and you turn back to the other two. "Alright, babies, let's go."

Jack fills Aaron in on what's going on at school, or- as Aaron profiles it- everything minus the social aspects.

They pull up to the drop-off zone, and Aaron stops, knowing Jack has grown past wanting his dad to walk him into class. "Have a good day, bud." He says.

"Uh, Dad?" Jack starts awkwardly. "Did you bring lunch money for me?" Nope. Aaron didn't even know Jack's been buying his lunch. "It's just Y/n always-"

Aaron nods, fishing out his wallet from his pocket. "Y-yeah, of course." He answers.

Due to how infrequently he pays in cash, the only notes he has are $50s, probably- and hopefully- not what you give Jack each day.

He hands it over, and Jack scrunches his nose. "This is way too much." He states.

Thankfully, Aaron thinks quickly on his feet. "Treat your friends." He offers.

Jack grins, knowing he has permission to carry such a large sum of money to a 13-year-old. "Awesome. Thanks, Dad."

Then he's gone, and once he's out of eyesight, Aaron throws his head back against the headrest, hitting the steering wheel in frustration.

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling utterly useless and like he doesn't have enough of a purpose in the family you've built together. Although you've always treated Jack like your own, you know his son better than he does, and that's a warning sign that he can't ignore. It doesn't feel like it was together when he thinks about it. He was just there while you effortlessly did it all.

It's a bad day at work. It starts before he gets there, and it doesn't get better. The silver lining is there's no case that the team can't consult on from Quantico. Still, he can't bring himself to return home when he should. It gets later and later, and his thoughts spiral as he looks out across the dark bullpen and feels like he's 12 years in the past when he was losing Haley because he couldn't be a dad or a husband. He's trying to be different, better, learn from his mistakes because he doesn't get another shot, and he can't stand the thought of letting you down. He's surprised he even got a second chance.

By the time he gets home, the kids are in bed. Jack's light is still on, but the house is silent. The TV's on low, but you're paying more attention to your phone than it.

"Hey, baby, long day at work?" You wonder, not at all sounding mad about it.

Aaron feels like he needs to be punished, yelled at, and made to sleep on the couch, but he's met with understanding.

"Mhm." He answers, dropping his briefcase in his office and his keys on the side table.

"There's dinner in the microwave." You continue talking in your lighthearted tone.

It's wrong to be short with you, and he hates himself for it. "Thanks."

It's a pretty obvious sign.

You know something's wrong.

He thinks he's good at hiding it, but he's not when your focus is solely on him.

You're patient, letting him take your time as you put your phone down and wait until he's sitting next to you on the couch after eating.

"What's wrong?" You ask.

Aaron can sense your watchful stare and acts like he's focused on the TV. "Nothing."

"Aaron Hotchner." You warn. "I would appreciate your honesty. Whenever you're ready."

God, he loves you. There's nothing he's done in his life to deserve someone as understanding as you. "You're the definition of a supermom." He tells you. "I'm not jealous. You keep everything running smoothly here, and any stumbles you react to with so much grace. But I'm failing." You hate that he thinks that of himself. He's not perfect, but neither are you or anyone. One thing Aaron isn't doing is failing. "I barely know anything about our kids, stuff I should know, and I would know if I were a good dad. The thing is, I'm never here." Before you can dispute the claim, he continues. "I'm not, Y/n. If it's not casework, it's paperwork, but I'm never here as much as I should be. I don't deserve any of this."

You hate seeing him like this, having talked himself into his feelings all day. "Aaron." You coo, cupping his cheeks and trying to wipe up his tears. "Baby, you're allowed to make mistakes. Our kids love you and think you're the best dad in the world." You assure him. "Jack has looked at you like you're a superhero since I met him, and E and Noah do too. Every time you're away, they know you're out there saving people."

"You really think so?" He asks. "All of that?"

You nod, brushing your nose against his gently. "100%. There's never been a doubt in my mind that you deserve this family. You've got to believe me."

A flicker of a smile lights up his face. "I do." He decides.

"Did you eat your lunch?" You wonder.

Aaron's unsure where it came from, but he sheepishly looks away from you. "I didn't."

You hit him lightly on the chest, scolding him for not eating. "Then you didn't see the note I added."

"What did it say?" He asks, more excited knowing he's not in trouble.

You debate making him wait until tomorrow, but he needs to know. "Thank you for being the best dad ever to our kids. I love you." You recite.

It seems too convenient, and he frowns. "Really?"

"I think it's a soulmate thing." It's the only explanation you can come up with, having not known this morning that his stress was because he was worried about not being a good enough dad.

"I love you." He says, closing the small gap between you to kiss you.

You go in for another kiss once he pulls back. "I love you, too." You remind him. "Bedtime?" You ask when he yawns. "Then you can have another shot at perfecting the morning routine."

He nods, grateful for everything. "Let's do it."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner au #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds family #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst

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cvpiddszn · 1 year

Text

𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞 | 𝐣.𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

a/n: part three has been anticipated. i've been extremely busy rn, BUTTTT the last part is here, but i will continue to write for these two because i love them. a masterlist is in the making!!!! also might write for isla and quinn, nyx and luke, AND kie and nico

summary: birdie finally comes forward about her feelings

warnings: babies, suggestions towards sex, major miscommunication, fluff

word count: 3.1k

series: part one, part two, part three

My head was fucking pounding at the commotion downstairs. I could hear the squeals of the twins, their squeaks making the hangover worse than it already was. I tossed to the other side, feeling the cold sheets beneath my body at the new position. I closed my eyes hoping that sleep would consume me but alas: nothing. I knew the minute I walked down there Blair would know I was upset. With her empath ways which I silently cursed plenty of times, she could always sense when something was wrong but I knew that she wouldn’t say anything unless I told her myself.

I crawled out of the bed, making it and clearing out all of my stuff. We had plenty of guest bedrooms but Blair and Quinn had sort of claimed this exact one which was closest to baby Amara (which I would’ve thought was a curse waking up to her cries). Closing the doors softly in hopes that I wouldn’t be caught coming out of the guest bedroom.

I nearly slipped into Jack and I’s room without trouble but a small Lowen was blinking at me, “Mommy?” He asked, his head tilted to the side in a question and I closed my eyes sharply praying that this was all some kind of bad dream.

I turned around and opened my eyes, masking my face with one of contentment, one that showed that I was happy with my life. He stood right in front of me, so I leaned forward kissing his forehead, “Yes, baby? What do you need?”

“Why’d you come out of Auntie Blair and Uncle Quinn’s room?” Lowen’s blue eyes were held with curiosity and sometimes I wished that these boys inherited less traits of Jack.

I crouched down, placing my hand against his cheek, smiling softly. “I was just making sure the room was ready for them, cleaning up. I saw a hot wheels car that was on the carpet. We wouldn’t want Auntie Isla slipping and hurting herself on it. Would we?” The lie came easy, and I felt terrible having to lie to my boys but they weren’t old enough to understand. The words that Jack had said played through my head, but I knew that he would try to hide it from our kids for as long as he could. He believed in fixing things, he always had.

With a nod, Lowen raced down the stairs eager to do whatever it was that he was being entertained with right now. I finally walked into the room, seeing the blinds already open letting the sun come in. The alarm clock on Jack’s side of the bed read ‘10:29’, and I wanted to curl into the large bed and sleep. I was uncomfortable last night, and extremely cold knowing that J wasn’t there to warm me up. He was like sleeping beside a heater. always warm and never cold, which was why I was a good contrast for him. To cool him off when he got too warm.

Walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind me, I saw my reflection. My hair was a mess of curls, my makeup smudged, eyes were nearly red from crying. Starting the shower turning the dial much hotter than usual. To the point where I knew that it would turn my skin red after I got out.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Lake ran toward me, throwing himself at me as I made my way to the bottom of the stairs. Everyone was sat in the living room, Amara content to play with Blair on the floor while J and Quinn had a hockey game already playing. I nearly rolled my eyes before my son flung himself at me.

I caught him with a grunt, his legs clinging onto my thighs instead of my hips. I dragged him along, kissing his head feeling my arms beginning to get weak as he continued to cling. “Morning, sunshine.” I grinned down at him, letting myself sit down on the couch beside my husband. I knew Jack wouldn’t want his brother to know about his relationship problems and he knew that I didn’t either so he let his arm rest just behind me. A simple gesture that had my heart racing.

Lake crawled up to my lap, hugging me for a quick second before moving to play with his brother. The boy couldn’t sit still to save his life, always needing to be preoccupied with something. As he left, Jack’s hand grabbed onto my shoulder pulling me in while he continued to talk to his older brother. My legs pulled up to the side and I watched as Blair spoke to my little girl in a quiet voice to make sure not to startle her even though she had two older brothers who are extremely loud.

Without thinking my head resting on J’s shoulder, I closed my eyes comforted by his warmth. When I opened my eyes I saw Blair’s eyes nearly question me. Kie must’ve told her something so I only looked away, avoiding her eyes because I knew that she could read me just as well as I could read her.

I stood up leaving my human heater, “Hey, Blair, you mind helping me in the kitchen?” I asked, to which she nodded. “J, you mind watching her?” I asked as Isla stood up beside me, I fiddled with my fingers resisting the urge to pick at them and pull at the skin.

“She’s just right there?” Jack replied, giving me a harsh look. It was hard to ignore a lot when your husband was actively glaring at you as if I had said the stupidest thing ever.

Quinn slapped his brother’s shoulder, looking towards me and smiling. “We’ve got her, Mads.” Even after I had been married, he still called me a nickname that had my last name in it and I missed the familiarity of being young. “Don’t we?” The oldest Hughes stood up from his spot, scooping Amara up from her spot on the floor.

Looking towards Isla with a smile, seeing her admiration of Quinn with a baby in his arms. I grabbed onto the blonde’s arm pulling her along with me to the kitchen. When we were a good distance from the living room I let her go.

Blair held her hands on her hips, holding some motherly pose that would’ve made me laugh in any other situation. “Okay, now, what’s been going on? Why is Jack looking at you like you committed some crime against him? Kie had mentioned something-”

My arms wrapped around her quickly, and she paused when she felt that I was crying, my shoulders shaking with every sob. I sank to the floor, and she followed with me. Her hand rubbed circles into my back, there had been plenty of times that we had cried together, yelled (or what Isla considered yelling) at each other, and so much more.

“I can’t, I don’t know how,” None of my words made sense as everything just followed me. Not a sentence seemed to form right in my head or mouth. “J, he- and Amara. I can’t-”

“Hey, take your time. Relax, you’re safe alright? I’ve got you, B. Always.” Her words only made me sob harder.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─��

"Hey angel, you ready to go?” Quinn’s voice came closer, Blair and I both paused looking up at the boy with wide eyes. My eyes were no doubt puffy and red, while we were both sitting on the floor in a comfortable position that we had been in for a while. I could already feel my ass beginning to hurt from the hardwood under.

Blair shook her head as I removed myself from her sniffling softly and wiping under my eyes, thankful for waterproof mascara. I grabbed one of Amara’s face clothes ran it under cold water and dabbed it under my eyes to reduce the swelling, hearing their hushed whispers behind me.

“We’re taking your kids to Kie’s, we’ll be back sometime later tonight.” Blair’s soft voice was heard through the silence, she placed her head on my shoulder in a comforting spot and I bit back the urge to brush her hand off but she knew exactly what I needed even if it wasn’t said. She quieted her voice between the both of us, “I want you to go out tonight, I want you to take the time to fix it. You two are the one relationship I know that can work anything out. You are not your parents, Bird.”

I only nodded, placing the cloth over the tap turning around and giving the blonde a small smile. One of reassurance, that I was okay and that I would be okay. It was something so little, a doubt in the back of my mind. Old Birdie would’ve laughed if she found out what I had been so upset over.

Blair left the kitchen, passing her husband who gave her a look that had her nodding. I always admired the two, their communication and how with a simple nod Blair knew exactly what Quinn meant. They were synced up, and if you believed in soulmates; they were the perfect example of it.

“Trouble in paradise?” Quinn finally spoke, keeping his distance from me. Unless I had said or initiated any sort of physical touch, Quinn preferred not to. He wasn’t a big hug person, despite his younger brother being the definition of physical affection. Though he made an exception for me.

I managed a laugh, his commentaries were never all that serious. He knew that was what I had Blair around for. “Something like that,” I replied, wiping my wet hands on a towel to dry them. Quinn gave me this look that I knew he knew and the dread began once again. The aching feeling of people knowing. The look of pity on people’s faces nearly made me want to cry all over again.

“I’m sure you’ve been lectured enough about this so I won’t bother with it. You know already. I will ask though, are you okay, Mads?” I was silent for a while as he waited for my response, deciding that I needed a drink because my head was beginning to pound once again.

“Word of advice: do not drink when you have kids. You will never sleep or have any freedom. I think it’d be a little different if it was just the boys but Amara doesn’t like letting me sleep at all, she prefers to cry and scream until I get J. Daddy’s girl for sure.” I spoke, hoping to avoid his question. “It was only eight years ago when you swore off women and claimed you never wanted children. Then you got married and I imagine that you’re trying for children?”

We had somehow made our way into a spot in the kitchen that allowed you to peer through the living room. Quinn’s eyes glanced toward Blair, with a sort of glassy look, it took him a minute to respond but I never questioned it. “I never wanted children, always expected that I would be the cool Uncle who spoiled the kids but kids make her happy. I want her to be happy.” He swallowed, I leaned my head onto his shoulder, to which he wrapped his arm around my arm, pulling me into his side.

“You guys are good together. You’d be a great dad, Quinn.” I reassured him, he kissed the top of my head and I already felt much lighter. The pair were perfect, the quiet and reassuring with the calm and calculated. They would make some kids extremely proud one day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Do you have everything? The diapers, the car seat, wipes?” Jack’s worry was clear to everyone as he began to name things on a list like it was memorized and I nearly smiled rolling my eyes at him but bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself back.

Instead, I placed my hand on his shoulder, “Everything is in the bag, nothing has been removed and you even watched Quinn put the car seat in to make sure that it was put in right.” My voice was light and when Jack looked back at me, I could see so much worry. I looked towards the couple at the door, waving them off, “You better leave now before J finds something that you need.” I shooed, walking over toward Blair who had Amara snuggled in with her.

When I backed up, I could feel a crash into my legs and when I looked down I could see little five-year-old hands on my thighs, unable to wrap themself around me. I turned around in what little space I had being trapped between the five-year-old arms. Lake looked up at me, wide-eyed. It wasn’t often that they left the house without us, sure there was a lot of travelling from Michigan to New Jersey so that we could be close to their grandparents for the summer, but within their five years, there was a lot of going to Jack’s games travelling. Especially when Jack’s team played against Quinn or Trevor’s.

I smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair. Quinn called out to Lake telling him that they were leaving and the boys scrammed from his spot, hurrying out the door and closing it behind him. I could hear the gravel crunching underneath the tires.

Feeling hands wrap around my waist, I embraced the feeling, letting Jack stand behind me and slightly rock me as my head came back to rest against his shoulder while his head stayed in the crook of my neck. Placing a kiss between my neck and shoulder, I sighed aloud, letting out a breath of anxiety that I held.

There was a silence that washed over the house, it was quiet and I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I had been home with the kids for the last six months. Did I know what to do with myself in my free time? It was obvious that neither of us wanted to have sex, especially with the tension that filled our marriage for the last two days.

My hand placed itself over Jack’s pulling it from my body but I kept a hold of his hand dragging him with me to the couch. We sat down, my hand still placed into his and I cherished the feeling of it.

“We should talk,” I suggested finally feeling prepared. Though I wished I had some script, it would help with the anxiety. “About last night, about Amara, about everything. But first I want to say something, and you’re not going to argue with me on it because I already told them yes.” He never said anything so I took it as the queue that I could continue. “I’m going back to work in a month. We’ll hire a Nanny, Amara will already be seven months old. I can’t take care of the kids all by myself anymore. I got a job offer at a University, I’ll be getting paid twice the amount I did working at a High School.”

Jack only stared at me, as if he was trying to process my words and still manage to come up with something smart that wouldn’t make either of us upset, so he nodded. “Okay, we’ll start interviewing people next week. I might not always be there, it’s the first roadie of the season.”

I nodded my reply, I knew that Jack didn’t like Nannies, especially since he claimed that Isadora took care of four children herself without any help but I couldn’t do it. “There has to be changes here too. I don’t want a divorce or to confuse our kids. I want to sleep in our bed, but I was doing some research and it said that babies need to start sleeping in their cribs when they’re six months old or they’ll get confused. Amara is confused and upset right now, I’m giving her formula now and she’s a bit fussy about it and she’s not used to you not being home. Sometimes we have to let her cry it out.”

“I get it, but sometimes we’re both too tired to argue with her.” He stated, and I remembered the time I had even brought her to sleep with us because she wouldn’t stop and the boys were in the room next door. I definitely regret setting the boys in the room next door to the baby.

“Another thing, I know that it’s different for both of us. You would think the second time around and with previous twins, I would be an expert but I’m not. I can assure you that a girl is much different than two boys. One more thing that I know is that I love you, and I’m sorry. I was completely jealous of our little girl getting all of your attention. It wasn’t fair that I was being selfish.” His hand squeezed mine in reassurance and he gave me a soft smile, kissing my cheek gently.

“I know that was hard for you to admit,” He teases with a smile knowing my stubbornness and I slap his bicep in protest, nearly speaking up in my defence before his lips came crashing onto mine and pulling back, “I'm sorry too. But to be fair, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to give you attention. You’ll always be my number one, Bird. Amara is a bit like her mother, don’t you think? Extremely needy and jealous?” He kissed me once again, his hand finding my back before laying me on the couch with him kneeling between my legs, his wedding band creating a chill on the back of my thigh as he brought it up to rest against his hip.

My hands pressed against his cheeks, pulling him closer. “I just love it when you insult me trying to get me in your bed, Mr. Hughes. Might want to watch your tongue.” I teased softly, my nails softly brushing against his jaw.

His brows raised in a challenge and I only grinned further. “You’ll get into my bed, either way, Mrs. Hughes.” Jack’s mouth came crashing against me again, and suddenly it felt as though we were newlyweds unable to keep our hands off of each other. It was rare that we actually slept around the time, staying up late and talking or doing other activities that involved no sleep. Little did I know that I would always remember this night.

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #quinn hughes imagine #nico hischier imagine #hughes brothers #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes #cvpiddszn writes

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pocketsizedq · 7 months

Text

Son

Trevor wasn’t one to take many things serious with his some what childish personality. He never thought he would have something more important to him than hockey that all changed when he met you.

Fast-Foward to now you have a tiny little boy together and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Trevor slowly rubs his eyes waking up to the sounds of little Ezra cries who was now nearly a four weeks old.

He looked down at you while you were snuggled into his chest sound asleep. You haven’t been able to get much sleep now with little Ezra being in the picture, but you won’t change it for the world.

Trevor carefully got out of bed trying his bed not to wake you. He stretches alittle bit before making his way to Ezra’s cot that was in the bedroom.

Ezra was all red in the face with tears rolling down his face when Trevor finally made his way over gently picking up the little boy holding him in his arms.

Trevor feels the little baby snuggle his face into the crook of his neck as he tries his best to comfort the little Zegras.

“Daddy’s got you little man” He softly said to the now just sniffling boy.

He gently wipes the tears going down his son’s face with his thumb kissing his head.

Trevor carefully carrying the little baby in his arms left the bedroom to go get him a bottle as it was about feeding time for him.

He opened the fridge grabbing out a small bag of breast milk pouring it into a bottle then putting it in the bottle warmer.

As the bottle was warming it, Trevor started thinking about how lucky he is that he is able to do what he loves then come home to a beautiful girlfriend and an adorable baby.

When the timer goes off, He gets the bottle out the warmer dropping alittle bit on the back of his hand making sure it wasn’t too hot for the baby.

Trevor slowly makes his way to the very comfortable lazy boy recliner where he gets comfortable making sure Ezra is laying comfortably in his arm close to his board chest.

He cradles the small boy bring the bottle to his lip letting him start to eat.

“when you get older me and your (nonrelated) uncle Jack are going to teach you hockey” He says calmly looking into the little blue eyes that he inherited from him.

Trevor heart felt so warm and was filled with so much overall love for the baby in his arms. He made a vow to himself that no matter what life brings to him he would always be there for you and Ezra.

It felt like a dream to know he was dad now with someone who he loves so much and cares for deeply. It was also scary to know that for the next 18 years this little baby will depend on you guys.

Trevor noticed that Ezra was done eating he set the bottle down grabbing the burp cloth from the side table putting it on his shoulder gently moving the little boy to his shoulder gently burping him.

He starts to gently pat the little baby’s back making sure he doesn’t hurt him.

Ezra lets out a big burp which make Trevor chuckle loudly jokely saying “you definitely are my son”

Trevor starts to slowly recline in the recliner letting the little boy rest on his bare chest as he knew skin to skin was very important for the little boy.

He watched as the little boy he held in his arms let out a big yawn slowly shutting his little blue eyes while he carefully start to rub his back.

#nhl x reader #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras #trevor zegras blurbs #trevor zegras imagines

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idiaa-shroxd · 11 months

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while working on reqs. here’s a little brainrot bubble. I think it’s be funny if instead of us getting Isekai’d the twenty two boys at entrance ceremony find themselves Isekai’d into your “mysterious” house that you inherited from a grandparent after you touch a mirror that had a cloth covering. Imagine teaching them about technology and try to convince these people to stay sane while in each other’s faces for almost twenty four hours a day, especially since some of them just met and got sorted into dorms. I just had the thought of do these men have airplanes in their world? and it kind of evolved to this.

Like Diasomnia on edge at first with Silver and Sebek trying to guard Malleus as Lilia listens to you and your explanation deeming you no threat. Malleus is simply happy he was invited or included with everyone when they were teleported. In Savanaclaw they all still have their beastmen features so you’re pleading with this stranger to not leave and go outside and cause trouble and this lion man is like… if you insist, while being smug. Totally acts like he is pitiful if you ask for help because he is stuck indoors. Floyd is having the time of his life, he will gnaw on furniture, as Jade is a bit more grounded but follow’s Azul’s lead as he tries to convince you to turn your house into a business as you deny.

Ignihyde has Idia and his brother and you’re thinking what a cute robot before he shoots a laser at a bug and you think that is enough for today. You eventually let all the boys live in your grandpa’s old home since it were rather large.. and magic is convenient. They can easily clean up the place and some are eager to learn about your world. You went from a normal life alone to living a life with a whole lot of boys.

Some of them do chores, like Trey, Jade, Jamil, who are the main chefs, while others such as Ruggie and Rook handle the laundry. Azul, Jade and Floyd handle your budgeting and monthly finances. You are not sure how but the money they give as “rent” increases per month. Vil and Idia have picked up youtube and streaming respectively, Idia being a vtuber and Vil having a channel that does a variety of content. Both are surprisingly popular. Vil also helps you renovate the interior design and Idia + Ortho handle all the machines and wifi. Some do odd jobs on occasion around the place like Ace, Epel, Lilia, some do hard lifting and collecting firewood like Jack and Sebek. Others such as Riddle and Cater can set the table, sweep up and check in on you. Some are freeloaders such as Leona, Malleus, and Kalim.

You figured things would be dysfunctional at first since your newfound boys weren’t allowed outside of your house, in fact are physically incapable of leaving your property, but they all managed to fit right in snuggly. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine just how hard life would be without them. You start working from home as your grandpa’s business is also passed down to you, even though you are a grossly underqualified child- claiming to be told old to keep up as he leaves to traveling the world after meeting the boys once. He doesn’t freak out and just go “:P forgot to tell you.”

You find their magic interesting. You also find out your grandpa has a lot of secrets. He can’t return them (much to their disappoint but later they could not care less they won’t return) but he can at least help out with some ancient books passed down about the great seven themselves, helping the Octatrio stay in human form. You also find some of them demanding, Floyd and Kalim almost always clinging to your arms as you try to work.

Sometimes you wake up to arguments, a chair may be flying, literally. Another time you awoke to a crying grey cat with ears of fire, trying to scratch at you. Hearing your scream Riddle and Azul came to your rescue, but you quickly told them not to be mean to a kitty, keeping him and naming him Grim.. seems like your home has gotten a new member, again.

Idia seems much more willing to leave his room when you mention getting a cat. Ace looks slight annoyed that you get to keep a fire producing cat but he could not keep a bear that Rook found? You were completely unfair. Meanwhile Riddle is ready to collar the cat for existing because he found a tart of his being eaten by the cat. You barely contained his rage, everyone lived another day.

Overall a chaotic household you now have.

a fun concept to play with? I’m a fan of the “inherits some mysterious magic object” trope and wanted to toy around with it a bit. i also had thoughts like my yuu would 100% be nicer to them than they are to us and give them a place to actually stay than kicking them to the curb like a certain Ramshackle building.

©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.

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norrisreads · 11 months

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Love Again #LN4

PAIRING: lando norris x wolff reader! Daniel Ricciardo x wolff reader! platonic only

SUMMARY: part 2 to sweetest pie, lando norris and y/n wolff a step closer to a newly found friendship but what does lando know about her?

WARNING: just fluff + more (see for yourself)

FC: lalalalisa_m on ig

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

after monaco grand prix

you are currently packing up your things to head home, the event was done and dusted, another verstappen win of course, it did not fazed you at all.

of course, you didn’t bring much but accompanying your family out here for 3 straight days, you had to bring your laptop along to sneak in some edits on your on-going projects.

daniel had gone back with heidi as he plans to attend the after party, of course he invited you, but you weren’t really interested in that life and knowing you’re their opponent team principal daughter, it probably will not be a good image.

Though, your dad did tell you multiple times whatever you’re doing it will never affect him as he does not intend to prohibit you to do things just because you’re his daughter.

“y/n, your phone keeps beeping. you should check it” george walked towards you with your phone in hand. you had to borrow george’s charger as your phone had died mid researching.

“oh, thanks George! heading home straight away?”

“yeah, carmen booked a 4 star restaurant for dinner, will probably need that after today’s result”

“you did great by the way, don’t dwell too much.” you tapped his shoulder and smiled

george smiled , bid his goodbye and made his way towards carmen, which she waved towards you and you did the same

you looked at the notifications you’ve received and laughed, of course a text from norris. ever-since, the interaction the both of you had, you’ve gotten closer even though that literally happened 2 days ago.

he is closer to your age, which is a pros because the both of you had similar humour and would share unfunny memes to each other which ONLY the both of you are able to understand.

you’ve finished packing, and was currently just waiting for your dad to finish his briefing towards the engineers. susie and jack had went off earlier, you agreed on waiting for your dad, though agreeing on that means he’ll be the one riding your motorbike and you’ll be a pillion (which you hate).

thus, while waiting for your dad, you took the time to respond to lando’s texts.

a/n : i don’t know why the emojis aren’t showing up 😭

Great, now you have a party to attend to.

“done with the packing?” you heard your dad’s voice

“yeah, taking my bike?” you asked while walking behind your dad following his pace

“of course honey, keys please”

you gave your dad your keys and walked towards your motorbike.

“the colour’s great, what’s the colour of your cafe racer back in singapore?”

“of course, you’re always getting the ugly colour papa. you have to let me know on the colours availability next time, it’s black, the other choices they had weren’t my taste. it’s probably yours though, silver just like the vintage cruiser triumph back home.”

your dad had a motorbike back home kept for you in any case you’re interested of inheriting it from him, but it wasn’t really up to your taste. A royal enfield, though is up to your taste.

danielricciardo: FOUL. y/nwolff not trusting toto wolff????????

georgerussell63: bossman reminiscing youth

landonorris: i’m next

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

2245HRS

“someone’s here for you darling” you heard susie voice came from the kitchen

it’s only 1045, why the fuck is lando here already. you’re literally still doing your makeup, leaving with blusher and setting your face.

“i’m still not done yet, can you let him know?” you shouted

“yeah about that, too late y/n” your door swing open, with lando showing up in your childhood room

“you’re early? did you speak to my dad? pissed your pants, yet?”

“ha ha funny. he’s not as scary as I thought of him to be” he took a seat on the edge of your bed

“he’s a great person norris, just team principle things huh?” shifting your chair towards him

“you look great, are you done though?” lando asked you while looking around your room

“yeah just left to set my makeup, don’t touch that” you quickly stood up and snatched the box away from Lando’s grip

“woah woah, what’s that about?”

“nothing it’s just something, thought i threw it away”

lando nodded but in his head, he was deadly curious on the reaction that you gave him, it was just a plain box with the letter m graving, what could the content in the box even possibly be?

“let’s get going, i’m done. my ride or yours?” you turned to lando, holding your keys.

“mine of course, i’m a gentleman”

“yeah, in that fiat jolly of yours?”

“fine, yours then” great.

you went into your dad office, took a extra helmet and gave to lando

“you’ll need this, you’re behind.”

and with that gesture, you made lando’s heart beat faster

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

AFTER PARTY

you were currently downing your whatever number of shots, while laughing at lando’s dance move with Carl’s

lando of course, didn’t drink much, prob a glass or two but you, you had quite a lot. Though, you’ll wanna thank your best friend for regularly having drinking sessions in the both of your apartment because this did improve your alcohol intake.

“you go to parties regularly?” heidi sat beside you, and questioned you

you shooked your head

“the alcohol intake speaks otherwise” the both of you laughed

“well, school stress helps ALOT”

you weren’t that close to any of the wags except heidi, she’s literally like a elder sister to you, checking up on you regularly and more. She’s the exact form of daniel just in a female form

“hey, you okay? feeling tipsy?” Lando approached you, taking a seat beside you which led to some of the drivers eyeing each other at the close contact the both of you had

“I’m Okay, slightly tipsy. You okay with riding the bike home, i’ll probably be better pillioned, if you aren’t, i’ll just let my dad know, he’ll probably pick us up”

“ woah, i’m okay with riding home. much better, i do not want toto to think badly of myself. just try and sober up a-bit alright, i’ll get a glass of water for you, stay here”

you agreed and leaned your head back but you then realised the stares you had from daniel, heidi, carlos and the others.

“what?”

“is something going on between the two of you?” charles questioned with that accent of his

“just friends”

“he picked you up today? toto did not say anything to lando?” this time, daniel

you shooked your head, “what’s wrong guys? is there’s something wrong?”

all of them shooked their head and laughed, “we’re just shocked, you’re not that easy to talk to. I’m amazed lando got you smitten over him”

carlos, said out loud handing you a shot.

“me? smitten?” rolling your eyes, downing the shot

before you’re able to down the shot, someone snatched the shot glass away from you

“what the fu-mick?” this time heidi held your hand tightly.

“hey, am i late? sorry y/n, promised toto you shouldn’t drink too much“ there stood in front you was Mick Schumacher smiling widely at you and lando arriving to the scene feeling the tense air between you and mick.

—✩࿐ end note: that’s all for part 2 of sweetest pie, if you haven’t read part one please do!!!!! i’ll do a part three soon, but in the mean time i hope you enjoy this ♥️

#f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 fics #f1 smau #lando norris x y/n #mick schumacher #lando norris x reader

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two-white-butterflies · 11 months

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you're losing me (five) | am. targaryen and j. velaryon

Description: Aemond gets sit down and added to his father's will. Viserys hires a private investigator to find out about your background. Rating: General Audiences part four

Aemond couldn't believe that he was giddy at the premise of inheriting his family's business. Fire and Blood Corporations ruled over the world - from trade to the food industry, now he was going to own 49.7% of it - all thanks to you.

"Now I understand that I was the one who started it," Viserys breathes, browsing through the dozens of folders on his desk. "- and I intend to keep my promise," the man signs a piece of paper that had their names on it.

"I will give you my company, and you'll have it after the wedding." his father smiles proudly, clicking his fountain pen. Aemond was just about to sign it, but Viserys pulls the paper back. "- you can sign this after our private investigator sends me the details about your fiancee." Viserys explained, quickly placing the contact inside his drawer. He pales slightly - they were fucked.

His father was going to find out about the debt you had with the IRS, and your father's arrest warrant with the Interpol. He was colossally fucked - and he had no plans in bringing you down with him. Aemond breathes, trying to calm himself down. "Of course, when is that?" he inquired - straightening his suit.

"Next week," Viserys replied.

Aemond felt like relapsing back into his old routine of fucking girls and drinking lots of booze. He takes a nervous bite of his mini Oreos, completely oblivious that you began to make your way beside him. "You okay, honey?" you inquire, placing a strand of his hair behind his ear. He nods his head - not giving you his full attention.

"I want to say something," you hum - pulling the jar of cookies away from his hands. He turns to look at you - eyes softening at the sight of your features. He was fucked - and he seemed okay with that, because he was with you. "What is it?" he asked, the nervousness beginning to flow away from his body.

"I like you." you confess - and that nervousness floods his system. His mind raced through a million thoughts - what did you mean by that? "In a romantic way," you add, staring at the ground. It would be embarrassing if he rejected you.

Instead of using his words - he takes your hands, pressing a kiss on the back of your palms. "And maybe we can turn this into a real thing?" you smiled - he smiles too.

"I love you."

(your first name): not the kind to post a lot, but bah whatever. these series of pics really embody the aesthetic of my new album. (that's not yet finished, i'm so sorry 😭) dress, lover and paper rings are singles - tho some of the things i released (peace and cardigan) are part of the album.

467 comments 1,238,100 likes

whiskeyonice: PEACE IS ABOUT JACK IN A BOX RIGHT?

TACO23849: watch her turn 'peace' about aemond 😎 - y/nliverspread: wait?? noo aemond cannot be?? is he?? -TACO23849: here we go again with the memes lol 💀😐

"She owes the IRS a lot of money, sir." the private investigator clears his throat - lowering the piece of paper in front of his boss. He was given a window of one week - but an hour was enough to find information about the pop-star.

"She's not paying her taxes?" Viserys raised his eyebrows.

"She doesn't have money to pay, sir." the man breathes. Anger begins flooding the patriarch's body. He wasn't going to let you marry his son. It would be shameful - it would ruin the family's reputation.

"Can you call Alicent? I need to talk to her." Viserys' lips turn into a thin line.

You were surprised when Alicent invited you for a cup of tea. Your boyfriend's mother kept to herself, only giving you small smiles and nods in the party - but now her entire atmosphere seemed to change. Alicent wasn't smiling or nodding - she was glaring at you.

"I like your ring," you compliment - settling down parallel her body. "It was a gift to me, by my husband. It used to belong to his grandmother." Alicent scowled, the waiter began to place a cup of tea in front of you. "Let me ask you (Your Name), what is your job?" she asked, placing a tart on her plate. You take a deep breath.

"I'm a singer." you answer, taking a small sip of the chamomile blend. "I was a model before I met Viserys - and I quit, because marrying into the Targaryen family is a job." she informed, gazing upon your face to measure every indent. "Pardon?" you breathe, in shock that this was happening to you.

You saw it happen in those Spanish novellas that your mother used to watch. What was going to happen next? Was she going to offer a million dollars so you'll stay away from her son?

"My husband knows that you are drowning in debt, he's not going to let the wedding pull through. If it does - Aemond is not going to inherit the company. Which I assume is the reason that you're marrying him in the first place." Alicent presses her lips into a thin line. Her heart reached out for you - but she loved her son.

Alicent reaches for her handbag, dropping a few thousand dollars to cover the bill. "Please, stay away from us." she pleaded - rising to her feet. "I'm not here for money - I thought I was. I've fallen for your son." you admit, making her freeze for a few seconds.

"- but you're his mother, and you know what's good for him. I want you to remember - when Aemond has children of his own, with a woman that you think is respectable. I want you to remember that it was because of me, and that I chose to stay away." you stand up, removing the wedding band from your fingers.

Stop you're losing me.

You're losing me.

"I don't know what you'll say to him, but I want you to know - that it wasn't hard loving your son." you smile, returning the engagement ring to her. These halls will never be the same again. Alicent's face softens. She opens her arms - welcoming you with an embrace.

"Thank you, (Your Name)" she responds bitterly.

AEMOND TARGARYEN 3:24PM Where are you?

YOU 3:25PM i'm so sorry

YOU 3:26PM they know the truth, that i'm apparently 'drowning' in debt. i don't think that we should be together anymore, and i feel really shitty for breaking up with you over text.

AEMOND TARGARYEN 3:26PM No, we're not breaking up. My mom got to you didn't she?

AEMOND TARGARYEN 3:26PM I don't give a fuck about the inheritance, I'm already rich. I just wanted to give a colossal 'fuck you' to Rhaenyra.

YOU 3:27PM it was never going to work, we're worlds apart.

You reply to him with a deep exhale. It was going to be worth it in the end, because he'd find a woman that was worth fighting for.

A beautiful fool who could hide behind his shadows and appreciate his shine - not you, not a person who had her own shimmer.

(your full name): i had a wonderful time ruining everything, thank you for having me europe 💗

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comments have been restricted.

y/n's kitten: I want to thank Aemond Targaryen for giving us the best bridge in the entire universe. "Your midas touch on the chevy door, November flush and your flannel cure, this dorm was once a madhouse, I made a joke well 'it's made for me.' How evergreen are group of friends, don't think we'll say that word again. And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls that we once walked through. ONE FOR THE MONEY TWO FOR THE SHOW. I NEVER WAS READY SO I WATCHED YOU GO. Sometimes you just don't know the answer TILL SOMEONE'S ON THEIR KNEES AND ASKS YOU. SHE WOULD'VE MAKE SUCH A LOVELY BRIDE WHAT A SHAME SHE'S FUCKED IN THE HEAD. they said, but you'll find the real thing instead SHE'LL patch up your tapestry that I SHRED."

34 comments 34,589 likes

sexybaby: nah I have beef with him because why is mom's comments suddenly restricted ackk ☹️ -applepie59: Her comments r restricted because americans keep asking her to tour there 💀 which she can't bcuz girl aint paying her taxes -sexybaby: bitch she isn't even in america full time why the fuck is she gonna pay for taxes? -apllypie59: Y/N's kittens stay delulu

y/nismysavior: I'm not heartbroken, also me: Y/N L/N

(your full name): Merci Paris 🥰 I will come back soon

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"How long are you going to keep attending her tour?" Aegon makes his way towards Aemond's hotel room - callously smoking a cigarette knowing that he wouldn't get into trouble because his grandfather owned the building. "As long as I want to." Aemond replied, glaring at his older brother. "Just watching her then? No talking?" Aegon insinuates - eyes narrowing.

"She seems okay." he breaths.

"Well I've been beside you during those concerts and you aren't analyzing her note changes or speeches enough." Aegon rolls his eyes - unable to admit that he was still one of the Y/N's kittens. "And you pay attention to that?" Aemond turns his head, slowly placing the duvet on top of his body. Aegon chuckles, already having a 100 paged slideshow in the back of his mind.

Aegon was able to note how your voice changed when you sang about the greatest loves of all time. How it cracked when you were singing about the snow-globe spinning round and round, and how his brother keeps a picture of you in his office downtown. "Men are so stupid," he shook his head - leaving the room and slamming the door shut.

part six

@glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @winxchesters @yentroucnagol @hotchnerswife @mxxny-lupin @joliettes @kemillyfreitas @mxtantrights @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kravitzwhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @introverbatim @flrboyd @kemillyfreitas

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thethirdromana · 3 months

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I was going to send Jack Reacher to @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula but since they're drowning under an ask mountain right now, I thought I'd have a go myself.

Jack Reacher:

Does not believe in the supernatural.

Would accept the crucifix from the old lady; he hates material possessions but I think she would remind him of his mother.

Would go exploring after being told not to.

Would be rude to Dracula.

Probably good at climbing (though he's huge - would he fit on a windowsill? Probably irrelevant, he would break the doors down).

Would choose being eaten by wolves over being eaten by vampires, but would also be able to punch a wolf to death.

But let's rewind a little. Because Jonathan Harker, when travelling through the countryside and being warned of scary things ahead, continues on his way because a) he has a job to do and b) he's never experienced this before. But going to a strange place, learning that bad things are happening there and fixing them is Reacher's entire MO. Even before he reaches Transylvania, he's probably foiled a train robbery and broken the nose of a pickpocket in Munich. It's what he does. Also, he doesn't need the money.

So when people start muttering ominously around him on the journey, he might not be prepared to learn about the supernatural specifically, but he knows something's up, and he is not going to that castle unprepared. In fact, I don't think he even gets as far as being offered the crucifix, because he heeds the landlady's warning and doesn't get on the coach.

There are now two possibilities.

One is that Dracula is annoyed at his retired military policeman not showing up, travels to the inn, lures Reacher outside and eats him. But that would seem to be showing his hand too strongly, and feels out of character. I think Dracula maybe sends more letters, or waits, or orders another military policeman from somewhere instead.

The second is that we have a situation where Reacher is in a remote rural area, the local landowner is murdering people with impunity, the locals are all too scared to act, and something must be done, probably with violence. In other words, we are in a Jack Reacher novel. He's going to have a lovingly described breakfast with lots of coffee. He's going to make friends with the One Good Cop in local law enforcement. He's going to get an impressive array of weaponry. He's going to seduce the barmaid at the inn. He's going to gather information. And he's going to defeat Dracula.

A lot of this hangs on how much information he can get on Dracula-fighting from the local villagers. But the superstitions about the eve of St George's Day suggest that they're well informed. I think he'll learn roughly as much from them as Van Helsing did from his academic sources. Though he might not believe the supernatural explanation, he'll take people's claims about Dracula being weakest at sunrise and sunset seriously.

What happens next is basically what would happen if Van Helsing (1897) was replaced by Van Helsing (2004). Wolves get punched. Doors get ripped from their hinges. Girlies get staked. Dracula gets decapitated. The charming barmaid inherits the castle, somehow.

Jack Reacher can survive Castle Dracula.

#dracula daily #reacher

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robo-milky · 8 months

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Fanchild: Ulla Felmier + Lavern Hunt

*This is set in a neutral setting where nobody’s in a relationship yet.

[Notes]

• How did they come to NRC? Uhh… Multidimensional time rip. Epel and Rook were going their merry ways until *BOOM* child falls from the sky and into their arms.

• Rook and Epel are quite pleased to know they could have a family in the future. Though Epel may seem flustered and in denial of wanting to be a father at first, the idea of having children of his own and letting them take over the farm is appealing. As for Rook, he’s fine with having children or without! Lavern’s existence doesn’t scare him a single bit.

• With Epel’s pre-established crush on Cloche, his heart is jumping in joy. He was initially iffy about finding out who exactly the other parent was, until he saw the white tail that resembled Cloche’. In his mind, there couldn’t possibly any other beastmen who matched the description! Jack may have white fur, but he’s a wolf. Ulla continues to give Epel hope that someday, the cat maid might like him back. Epel did want a son, but Ulla was too cute to resist.

• Oh là là! Who would have thought that the Hunter of Love would be struck by his own arrow in the future? When he first saw Lavern, his impressions were ‘Who is this lost child?’ Instead of Lavern immediately clinging on to his father, like Ulla, Lavern was less than happy to fall into the arms of a ‘stranger who looked very much like his dad’. Even without Lavern addressing Rook as ‘Papa’, it didn’t take long for Rook to deduce that the boy was his child and Cloche’. Instead of Epel’s eagerness, Rook felt intrigued. In all his time of observing Cloche, never had he ever considered her to be anything but ‘that underclassmen’.

• How is Cloche coping? She’s not. Questions like “When were they born” “Why are there two of them from different parents?” “Does this imply I’m never leaving Twisted Wonderland?” “Did I give birth to them?” and “Is this going to blow my cover?” are all running wild. Cloche is aware of her …questionable views of family, and would much rather not have a child, than be a bad parent.

[Ulla Felmier]

• Epel originally wanted a son, but his disappointment in having a daughter disappeared when he held her as a baby for the first time. Epel cracked when Ulla’s tiny hand curled around his finger, realizing how tiny and precious she was.

• Ulla is spoiled— and I mean, sPOILED. Not just by her parents, but by those around her. That’s right, she has pretty privilege (mostly inherited from her dad). It also didn’t help that Harveston dotes on Ulla, almost as much as they did Epel. Ulla is well-behaved until backs are turned and eyes are closed. Ulla may come off as lazy, and carefree, but she can be quite cunning.

• The braided green toque and red overalls is supposed to represent a poisoned apple. Even when she’s not in Harveston, or if it’s not cold out, Ulla still prefers to wear the toque because it hides the fact she doesn’t have ears. Ulla might not show it, but she’s the most insecure about not having ears like other beastmen.

• Inherited Cloche’ loose morals, and Epel’s adventurousness.

• Definitely picked up on the Harveston dialect. Ulla and Epel communicate with each other in it behind Cloche’ back for special ‘father-daughter bonding time’. And by that… Epel secretly baking sweets for Ulla, and letting her go on the ‘grown up’ sleds. Epel would also have taught Ulla self defence, which later turned straight up fighting tactics.

• In Ulla’s eyes, Epel is the manliest and beefiest Pop in the world. This causes some confusion when she gushes about how ‘manly’ little fluffy rabbits, and baby chicks are.

[Lavern Hunt]

• Rook is more than happy to have such an uncommon type of beastman for a son. But of course, if he hears anyone commenting about Lavern’s lack of a tail, then bow strings are about to be plucked. When Rook first saw baby Lavern, he couldn’t help but laugh because of how funny the boy looked, but loves him regardless.

• The type of child who has to see everything for himself, to truly believe. Will not back down unless given a reason (he can understand) to. Impatient, but will put in the work needed to get the results he wants. Other kids find it hard to work with him. Additionally, it takes Lavern a long time to adapt to change and accept it.

• Cloche wanted to dress Lavern up nicer, but compromised to let Lavern wear sandals/slides/flip flops because of comfort. The footwear is also a subtle nod to Afterglow Savanna’s hot weather.

• Inherited Cloche’ skepticism, and Rook’s stubbornness.

• When disciplined, Cloche always speaks to Lavern in the same neutral tone and expression, whilst Rook has a wider range. Rook can maintain a soft smile while chiding Lavern, to showing disapproval on his face through narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. The moment Lavern notices Rook’s smile is gone, that’s when he actually feels like he’s messed up.

• Can only understand Rook’s French, but not speak it. Over time, Lavern also grew accustomed to all the big, flowery words Rook throws around— thus expanding his vocabulary quicker. With Cloche’ preference of academics, and Rook’s love of poetry, it’s no surprise that Lavern is the Spelling Bee king.

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penny00dreadful · 4 months

Text

The Parting Glass

Hey I've been through some shit the last few weeks so let's do Christmas the Irish way. By making it ✨miserable✨ and putting Eddie through situations. But with a hopeful ending.

Just as a note of warning, this fic contains death, funerals and Eddie working through his grief. It was originally devised as a part of this fun little challenge and then... welp, I used it to process. 😅

The prompts I got were: Eddie arrives to town recently single to inherit something, Steve lives in the town and is a famous musician (but not here). Eddie falls in love with the holidays, the town and some guy. I'll be honest these prompts got away from me so they're not followed exactly.

AO3

For my granddad.

It was nearly Christmas and Eddie was driving back to Hawkins for the second time in two weeks.

He was alone.

Again.

And for good this time.

The last time, when he had come back when Wayne was sick and not getting any better, he wasn’t supposed to be on his own.

In the days leading up to it, Jack had been in his ear the entire time.

“I’ll be there for you.”

“I won’t let you go through this alone.”

“You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I’ll support you the whole way.”

All over the phone. It couldn’t be helped. Eddie was a writer, he could work from literally anywhere. Or at least anywhere that had an internet connection. Even then, he might not need that. Just a post box.

Jack was back home in their apartment that Eddie had bought them with his first big paycheck.

Eddie had called to tell him that Wayne had passed, numb and monotone and not really fully registering just what that meant. That he was gone. Like gone-gone.

Forever.

He wasn’t just gonna… open his eyes again and start talking. He wasn’t gonna go back home, or sit in his armchair or shout at the tv or lie in his own bed one last time… And… What about his mugs? He… Wayne had so many mugs, what was gonna happen to them? He loved those mugs.

And Jack had said he’d be there. He’d promised.

And then he wasn’t.

Because something had come up at work or he thought he was coming down with something or he hadn’t got enough sleep the night before and didn’t feel safe making the drive and he felt really bad about it, just a steady stream of excuses but also- that was it.

I feel really bad about it. Full stop. No attempt to say, I’ll make it up to you. Or even just the bare minimum of I’ll try my best to be there no matter what.

And like a flash in the pan Eddie went from devastated to angry to just cold acceptance.

“Fine.” He’d grit out over the phone, feeling simultaneously broken hearted and fucking indignant. Because, yes, it was a little selfish to feel like Jack should have thrown all that to the side to be here with him. But his fucking family had just died. He was allowed to be a little selfish.

Eddie needed him there.

Didn’t just want him there, he needed him there.

But instead he had to go through it all, alone.

He was on his own just before Christmas, trying to organise a funeral for the only family he had.

He didn’t have much time to think straight. He resolved to put it all out of his mind until this was all over because Wayne deserved his attention right now.

Eddie had expected it to be small and quiet if he was being honest with himself. Wayne had been a man who kept to himself and all he had was Eddie.

He was just thankful the local funeral home wasn’t completely decked out in tinsel and lights and trees. It was going to be hard enough as it was without a constant reminder of the time of year.

Quiet and subdued, with just a few stragglers, as depressing as that was. He could handle that right?

But then the people started turning up at the funeral home and they just didn’t stop.

The entire trailer park came out to see him, even Mrs. Cartwright, who was stone deaf and half blind with a bad hip, shuffled into the room on the arm of another of the neighbours, a red headed young woman, to offer her condolences. Then there were Wayne’s coworkers from the plant, the farmers he’d talk to in the pub, his fantasy football league, childhood friends that he hadn’t spoken to in years but still wanted to pay their respects, teachers from the school, store workers, the nurses who looked after him. Eddie’s own friends, the Corroded Coffin boys, the Hellfire kids, Rick, even some of his most loyal customers from back in his dealing days.

It kept going, just floods and floods of people young and old passing through the room to pay their respects, offer their condolences and shake Eddie’s hand.

He was completely overwhelmed. By the end of it, his hand was fucking sore, his throat was raw and if he lingered on the thought any longer, of how many people had shown up for his uncle, had loved him, he’d start crying all over again, even though he was pretty sure he’d run dry.

Jeff, Gareth and Grant hung around for hours after they’d been through the procession once, waiting for a moment to talk to him and ask if he wanted them to stay with him for the rest of the funeral and after. For as long as he was back in Hawkins.

It went unspoken that Eddie had been in that room alone and they were trying to save him from that, so he took them up on the offer. Stood with his oldest friends that he really should have spoken to more over the years while Wayne was lowered into the ground.

They took him out for a few drinks afterwards but Eddie didn’t have it in him to make it a whole night thing. He was exhausted, but he promised to stay in better contact.

When it all was said and done, Eddie found it incredibly difficult to get into the car and drive back.

He didn’t want to leave Wayne here alone.

He didn’t want to be states away anymore.

He wanted to be home. In this shitty little small town that he had hated growing up in but was such an important part of his life, that was familiar and sedentary and fucking quaint and most importantly had a memory of Wayne in every single corner.

Jack would never go for it.

But now that Eddie was on his own, in the car, it gave him a lot of time to stew on just how long he’d been on his own already.

Eddie loved fast and Eddie loved hard. If someone gained his trust or his loyalty, he would do anything for them. It would be a very, very hard thing for someone to lose. But it also made him incredibly blind to their flaws.

This wasn’t the first time Jack had pulled out of something at the last second. And most of the time it was just because he didn’t want to do whatever it was, regardless of if he had made promises about it.

And Eddie had let it go each and every time before because, well, it was fine. He got over it and it wasn’t that big of a deal.

But he had needed Jack there this time. And he’d done it all alone.

If the situations were reversed, Eddie would have crawled on his belly through broken fucking glass to be where Jack needed him and nothing less than an explicit “I don’t want you there” would have deterred him.

And when he got back to their apartment and Jack had turned to him with a sympathetic, “How was it?” Eddie fucking lost it.

He’d screamed so loud and with so much anger and devastation, the neighbours called the cops and again Eddie was on his own trying to explain what had happened while Jack just shuffled around in the background looking vaguely guilty and shell shocked, muttering “You never told me you wanted me there” when the cops finally left.

And Eddie was just fucking done. He was broken. It was finished.

“I didn’t think I had to. My family died. And you had been telling me the entire time that you’d be there. You told me you’d be there for me. And then you just weren’t.”

So that was it.

Eddie couldn’t stand to be in that city anymore. Anonymous and lonely and fucking claustrophobic. Couldn’t stand to be in the apartment with its white Christmas lights and expensive baubles and store bought charm without an inch of personality because it “looks prettier this way.”

The fucking cushions that couldn’t be used to prop up his back because he’d squish the filling and the throws that were there for decoration, placed perfectly, giving the apartment the impression of lived in warmth without any actual emotion in it.

He sold the apartment to Jack, waiting for the heartbreak of the end of a years long relationship to finally hit him. But it never did.

Maybe his emotions were all worn out and it would hit him properly later.

The same way he knew he still hadn’t fully registered that Wayne was gone yet.

So.

Now he was here.

Standing in the cold of the trailer park, his breath fogging up in front of him, snow crushed underneath his boots and night blanketing him. He had a box of stuff in his arms, rooted to the ground between his still warm car and the dark and shadowed front door, thinking hysterically for a moment that he hadn’t asked Wayne if he could move back in.

But he couldn’t, of course he couldn’t, Wayne was gone and he wasn’t coming back and Eddie had no way of contacting him in the fucking afterlife if there even was one to ask if he could turn up on his doorstep again in almost the exact same way he had nearly fifteen years ago.

Wayne would have probably given him a light smack over the back of the head and told him he was always welcome, no matter the circumstances.

Still.

It felt wrong to just assume he could be here without checking in with him first.

He could hear his voice in his head, could almost see him standing silhouetted in the warm glow of the doorway, looking soft and worn in. “Get your ass in here son, before you freeze to death.”

Eddie blinked and the door was closed and dark and empty again. There was no noise coming from inside the trailer, no sound of the tv going, no smells of cooking, no heat, no light.

It was an empty shell.

The glow of the other trailers surrounded him, the small muffled noises of life going on inside each and every one, warm yellows spilling out of their windows or multicoloured lights lining their roofs or their porches, Mariah Carey singing her heart out somewhere in the distance.

“No one ever tells you the front door is one of the hardest parts.”

Eddie jumped, whipping his head around to find the same redheaded woman standing off to the side, bundled up in a thick homemade scarf and puffer jacket, her hands in her pockets and winter boots unlaced, like she'd just thrown them on, the grooves in the snow behind her telling him she’d walked to him from somewhere across the park.

Eddie squeezed the box a little tighter to himself, finally feeling the biting cold through his fingers.

“Yeah. I-” he swallowed, looking up at the door again. “How long have I been standing here?”

He could hear the snow crunching under her boots as she came closer. “I don’t know.” Fabric rustled somewhere beside him as she shrugged. “Mrs. Cartwright only told me you were out here a few minutes ago. I dunno how she even noticed, she can barely see five foot in front of her face.”

Eddie turned to the trailer he remembered the old lady living in to see her sitting by the window, squinting out into the snow. She offered him a toothless smile and a little wave when she saw the two of them looking back.

He was just about able to unstick his hand from the box to wave back.

“And you’re her-?”

“Neighbour. But I check in on her as often as I can. She’s good company.”

“Oh.”

The two of them stood there, in the cold, in the snow, just looking at each other and Eddie could feel the spectre of the dark and empty trailer looming over him. Before this redhead turned up, he could have conceivably turned back, gotten into the car and found a motel room or something for the night. This might have all been easier to face in the daytime.

But now he’d been seen, he was trapped and he couldn’t escape. He wasn’t sure if he could do it.

“When my mom died,” the woman said, coming around to face him, “I just kinda switched off. I was on autopilot for a lot of the time but my first day back at the trailer after the burial, I couldn’t go inside. She wasn’t in there anymore. Same as you, I don’t know how long I was out there before Steve came and found me.”

“You’re Max.” Eddie said, his brain finally putting the pieces together. “Wayne talked about you.”

Max’s face broke out into a wide delighted grin. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Eddie smiled back. “He said you never wore your helmet when you were skateboarding.”

She snorted. “Yeah. And the one time he finally convinced me to, I took a hell of a tumble. Broke my-”

“Leg, I think it was?”

“Nah, man.” Max shook her head. “Not just my leg, I broke my damn femur. Strongest bone in the body and snap.” She clapped her gloved hands together, muffling what should have surely been a hard impact. “With six months of therapy to go along with it. Got me into the job I’m in today, though.”

“He said you’re a physical therapist?”

“Yup. And he said you’re a writer.”

Eddie nodded.

“Well then, Writer Eddie Munson. How do you feel about the front door now?”

He looked back up, finding that it wasn’t quite as intimidating as it had been before.

“A little better.”

“Good. I’m glad. Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, uh-” he looked back down at the box in his hand, flexing his fingers around the keychain he still had hanging off his thumb. “Yeah, actually. If you don’t mind.”

Max nodded, stepping forward and taking the box from him. Eddie gave her a small smile before squaring his shoulders and facing the door once more and stepping up towards the porch before he could stop himself.

Amongst his set of similar shaped keys, he easily found the one to the trailer, the same one he had cut out of a black blank when he was younger and so edgy.

With a deep breath he slipped it into the lock and turned, feeling it catch like it always did halfway through and jostling it in a way that was so familiar from years of doing the same thing, it hit him like a truck.

He swallowed down hard as he gestured Max in, switching the lights on.

It didn’t smell like Wayne anymore. Not really. It had been weeks since anyone had been inside. But the memory of the smell was there.

It was freezing, an empty shell of a building that had been left to hold its ghosts. The pipes were probably frozen through too, but he and Wayne had handled that plenty of times before, this would be nothing new.

Everything of Waynes was still here. His boots were by the door, his jackets were hung up, his mugs lined the walls. The remote was on the floor next to his recliner, like it had been accidentally nudged off of the arm and hadn’t been picked up yet.

It was like Wayne had just stepped out, or was hiding in another room.

Eddie could feel his heart start to crumble just a little more.

The two of them got his boxes and bags unpacked from his car and into the trailer in silence. He was pretty sure Max knew that he was just waiting for her to leave so he could break down in peace but even so, she turned to face him after placing the last box down.

“You can say no.” She said, hands back in her pockets. “But a few friends are flying in on Thursday and we’re going to meet up at Cathy’s. You’re welcome to come if you’re feeling up for it.”

Cathy’s pub, Wayne used to go there all the time. The actual name of the place was The Attic, but no one called it that, everyone called it Cathy’s. As much of an Irish pub as one could get out in Hawkins without actually being an Irish Pub. It just happened to be run by an Irish woman who refused to entertain four leaf clovers and green pints and had kicked people out in the past for calling it ‘Patty’s Day’ instead of ‘Paddy’s Day.’

Eddie nodded at her, his eyes already starting to mist up from everything settling around his shoulders.

“Thanks.” He sniffled. “I’ll think about it.”

She offered him a gentle smile and said her goodbyes, not lingering around when he so clearly wanted to be on his own.

He watched through the window as Max carved a path through the snow back to Mrs. Cartwright’s trailer, before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and starting to unpack.

Last night had been one of the roughest nights of Eddie’s entire life.

He’d only managed to switch the electric heater on and open one box before the silence got to him.

He’d switched on the tv and had to flip channels for far too long before he found what he was looking for because he didn’t know where the sports channels were hidden away, he’d never wanted or needed to look for them before.

But having the trailer filled with the sound of sports commentators and the crowds in the stadium and an obscene amount of advertisements was enough to make him crack.

He’d ended up in a ball on the floor, crying so much he felt like he’d never stop, breathing so hard he felt himself getting lightheaded.

Every time the tears subsided and he had started to get a handle on himself, he saw something that would start the cycle all over again. The Garfield mug, Wayne’s favourite winter hat, the stash of red vines he kept hidden beside his armchair, a habit he got into and never got out of when they were living together to keep them away from Eddie’s sweet-tooth.

By the time Eddie had pulled himself up to curl into the couch, he had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a nest of Wayne’s clothes surrounding him, the smell just barely lingering.

He drank himself into a stupor.

The morning after was equally rough but in an entirely different way. When he was woken up by the sound of daytime life outside the trailer door, bleary and foggy, he recognised his surroundings before anything else.

“Wayne?” He’d called, half expecting to turn to find him in his armchair, the sounds of the sports channel still filling in the space of the room.

But then he remembered.

All over again he remembered.

He was barely able to do anything for himself that day. Most of it was spent staring off into space, waiting for things to get better, like everyone always said it would. Waiting for the pain to dull and to be able to function again.

He stood in the doorway of what had been Wayne’s bedroom and then his own and became Wayne’s again once he moved out.

He never thought he’d be back here, moving back into this exact same bedroom all over again.

He didn’t sleep in the bed that night. Or the night after.

He couldn’t. Not yet.

He had managed to get the water running, so that was a plus and by the time he had some of his stuff unpacked the trailer no longer looked like a warehouse full of boxes, but instead looked like a cluttered and messy home.

He didn’t have the strength to move any of Wayne’s things, so his own stuff just kind of existed in corners or on countertops and it was fine.

Everything was fine.

This was his life now.

This was what he wanted.

It was fine.

Snow was starting to swirl around him as he stood outside Cathy’s, slowly accumulating in his hair and building up around his boots as the warm light and laughter inside seeped out of the building.

There were twinkling multi-colored lights lining the outside and glittering through the fogged up windows and Eddie could see inside was decorated with green garlands draped from every available surface, red, gold and silver baubles woven in throughout and topped off with a healthy smattering of tinsel.

It was the most inviting thing he had seen recently and he ached to go inside. It was just so full of memories.

But he was stuck.

Rooted to the spot like he had been outside the trailer door a few days ago.

Wayne would have loved all of this.

He loved Christmas.

He loved Christmas late nights at Cathy’s.

And it was only really then, when he’d been so painfully aware of it in the back of his mind for the last few weeks, that this was going to be the first Christmas he had to endure without Wayne.

“Eddie?”

Well, no running now.

But it wasn’t Max this time.

“Eddie Munson, my god. Is that really you?”

Eddie turned and was met by the sight of someone he hadn’t seen in the longest time.

“Chris?”

Chrissy Cunningham was standing in front of him in all her short and bright glory with a blinding smile on her face. Something deep in him warmed under her gaze. They hadn’t been friends for very long before they both skipped town in opposite directions, not to mention the ill-fated crushes they had both quietly harboured for each other once upon a time, but that was never gonna work out.

Even so, a friendly face he recognised was just what he needed right now. Someone to help him brace everything in front of him through those doors. The Wayne of it all. And the terror of potentially being introduced to a whole group of people as a new outsider, in mourning, no less.

A loud burst of laughter rang out from inside as they looked at each other and Eddie felt something fizzle and settle gently in his chest.

In a tiny little moment, they clicked again, still friends after all this time, no matter the distance.

Chrissy looked at him, a thousand emotions passing through her eyes as she worked through what she was going to say. She had definitely heard about Wayne’s death. Wayne had taken her in on more than one occasion when her mother had gotten to be too much.

Eddie had to get his ability to collect strays from somewhere, after all.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. By the time I heard I couldn’t get a flight in time and I should have been here for you.”

“It’s okay.” he smiled at her. And it was okay, really.

She wormed her hand in between his elbow and his side where they were clenched tight from the cold, looping her arm through. “I’ll stick with you the whole night if you want me to.”

Eddie’s whole body sagged in relief, not knowing he needed to hear it until he did.

“Please.”

Chrissy nodded, a steely look of determination on her face and their arms held tight together as they pushed their way inside.

The warm glow and homely smells hit him immediately and he felt his shoulders loosen even more. It was loud inside but not unbearable, the sounds of conversation mingling in with the speakers softly playing out a mix of traditional Irish music and what had to be some Christmas best hits album.

Eddie dragged his eyes across the bar, while Chrissy looked around at the people sitting at various tables and booths.

“Are you looking for anyone in particular?” He asked.

“I only just flew in today. I’m supposed to be meeting up with a number of- oh! There they are.”

She pointed towards the back by the fire that Cathy had put in, claiming it couldn’t be a proper pub without a fire. The series of tables were all pushed a little closer to each other, overflowing with people and Eddie had to blink at them a few times, realising there were definitely a few familiar faces grinning back at him and waving the two of them over.

The first person he recognised was Max, her bright red hair standing out amongst the sea of browns and chestnuts and blacks. It was then that his eye was drawn around the table and saw his Corroded Coffin boys and the Hellfire kids looking back at him.

Damn, he’d forgotten to tell the boys about his impulsive move back here. He hadn’t really told anyone about it apart from Jack. But they didn’t seem to hold it against him. It was plain as day on their faces that they knew he might not exactly be doing things logically right about now.

And then there were the Hellfire kids.

Or he supposed he could hardly call them kids anymore.

They would all be somewhere in their mid-twenties at this stage and wasn’t that just a mind trip?

They all stood to greet Chrissy and himself, hugs and pats on the back all around, the Hellfire kids and Max introducing one of the few truly unfamiliar faces amongst the bunch, El. Another woman he vaguely recognised gave him a small wave but eventually he realised who she was, because this was a small town and everyone at least knew of everyone in one way or the other.

Robin Buckley, from band.

What a strange mix of people.

She and Chrissy shared a long look with each other, eventually revealing that Robin was her long term girlfriend.

Eddie nodded along, told her it was nice to meet her but couldn’t help the taste of bitterness that rose up in his throat when he looked at the two of them, not being able to remember the last time he had been out with Jack and feeling like his company was enjoyed and Jack wasn’t just waiting to go home with or without him.

It had barely been a week since they had broken up but the loneliness had been there for a while.

He had only just managed to get his coat and scarf off before Cathy appeared at their table, a drink in each hand.

“Eddie, darling.” She said, placing the two drinks down in front of him and scooping him up into a hug. “It’s so good to see you back home, love.”

She was an older woman, warm and wrinkled and soft, smelling vaguely of cigarette smoke and perfume in a mix that shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was.

“Thanks, Cathy.” He muttered into her neck, pulling back away only to find his face in her hands.

“If you need anything at all, you know where to find me, right?”

He gave her a shaky smile, not really sure what to do with himself, he could feel everyone else at the table watching them.

“Yeah.”

“Good boy.” She grinned back at him, petting his cheek before gesturing down at the drinks she dropped off at the table.

“This is for you, love. On the house.” She pointed at the beer bottle. “And this one,” she rested her hand next to the glass of whiskey, neat. Wayne’s drink. “It’s tradition. One last tipple for your dear uncle. And none of you,” she whipped around, pointing an accusing finger at everyone in the booth, “are to touch it.”

They all stared up at her wide eyed and nodded while she turned her smile back on Eddie. “You take care of yourself, now. You hear me?”

“I’ll do my best.” He gave her a short salute and she rolled her eyes at him in a good natured way before turning and heading back to the bar.

Eddie swept his eyes over the pub, hoping to get an idea of how much of a scene had been made, as quiet as they had been tucked away in their corner. But before he could take a proper inventory, the doors were pushed open and even from the back of the pub Eddie could feel the cold following in the figure's wake.

The newcomer brushed the snow out of his hair and stomped his shoes out before flashing a smile at Cathy and weaving his way through the tables towards them.

He was almost offensively pretty, his cheeks, nose and lips rosy from the cold, unwinding a scarf from around his neck, giving Eddie a glance at a spattering of moles across his skin. He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to get out the last of the snow.

He looked so familiar.

It had been a long ten or so years since they'd seen each other, but it couldn’t be.

Could it?

“Hi, sorry I’m late, I-”

“Harrington?”

Steve Harrington stopped short, standing in front of him, staring at him with cheeks getting slightly redder.

“Eddie.” He said, a little breathlessly, running his hand through his hair again, but it seemed to be more from nerves this time. “Hi.”

Oh, so they were on first name terms? Okay, he could deal with that.

Except that maybe he couldn’t deal with it, because his childhood Big Gay Crush was standing in front of him, smiling at him and looking like he’d just been beamed out of the campest Christmas movie in existence, the warm glow of the Christmas lights and the fire dancing across his skin, bundled up in a dark red sweater and his hair was somehow still perfect.

But he was saved from having to respond as the group started shuffling around to greet him, Robin reaching out to pull him into a tight hug, like they hadn’t seen each other in ages.

Eddie moved back, sitting down at a stool at the edge of the tables, next to Chrissy and across from Robin and Steve who were whispering fiercely to each other, Robin explaining the whiskey on the table wasn’t to be touched and sending what they must have thought were subtle nods in his direction and well, he wasn’t sure what else he expected from tonight.

Apparently he was a local spectacle now.

But still, his boys were here, the Hellfire kids were here, Chrissy was here, he had plenty of people available to him to distract himself from Steve sitting directly across from him.

He had only managed to get halfway through the drink Cathy had brought him before he was approached again, this time by an older man who he recognised as one of the guys on Wayne’s shift.

He placed a fresh drink down in front of Eddie and told him Wayne was a good man, that the world was a little dimmer for his passing and he was a hell of a baseball player back in the day, could throw a ball at speed like no one he had ever seen since.

Eddie smiled and listened as the guy spoke, the clear affection and joy he had for his uncle warming his heart.

It was barely ten minutes after that guy had gone back to his own group that Eddie was approached again, another drink placed down in front of him and more sympathies and stories of Wayne’s past gifted to him from people who had known him.

It went on like that throughout the whole night, a steadily revolving door of people coming to talk to him about his uncle.

Stories of the stupid and dangerous shit they had gotten up to in their childhoods, stories of cow tipping (which Eddie had heard from Wayne’s own mouth was a bold faced lie but a fun one to tell), tractor racing (which he had not heard about) and one time Wayne had been chased out of Farmer Dan’s barn by the man himself wielding a shotgun, convinced he’d been corrupting his daughter.

Stories of nights playing poker, learning to never ever trust his poker face, his abysmal luck when it came to his fantasy football teams and how much he loved to get a bit of drink in him and sing at the top of his lungs, which Cathy always humoured, often joining in.

Almost as if she had been summoned, Cathy appeared at his other side.

“Will we have a little sing-song for your uncle, love?”

Eddie looked up at her and thought about it. To hear the accented and cracking old voices singing along to the songs that just seemed to live in pubs like these would probably hurt, but it would be like lancing a wound.

It would sting but it would be healing.

“Yeah.” He said. “I don’t see why not.”

“Would you do us the honours, then?”

Eddie felt his eyes go wide. He was never really much of a singer. “Oh. No,” he blushed, shaking his head, “I don’t think so, I’ll leave that up to the professionals.” He gestured around to the group of older men he had managed to collect as the night wore on. “If it’s one thing Wayne didn’t hand down to me, it was his singing voice.”

Cathy waved him off. “Oh nonsense, you have a lovely voice.”

He really didn’t.

“I really don’t.”

“We’ll be singing along with you anyway-”

“No, I’d rather not-”

“I could do it for you.”

Eddie turned to face Steve who was looking the least nervous that he had for the entire night, his gaze steady and confident, clearly comfortable in his singing ability. Robin was staring hard at the side of his head, like she was trying to beam thoughts directly into his brain. Eddie’s heart was thumping in his chest and he could feel his cheeks start to heat up, something he was pretty sure had little to do with the drink.

“You sing, Steve?”

Robin’s mouth ticked up at Eddie’s question though she tried to hide it, like she was harbouring a little secret.

“I’ve been known to.” Steve’s own lips curled up, shooting that tiny little smile Eddie’s way and-

Oh.

Oh shit.

Childhood Big Gay Crush, you’ve been upgraded to Current Big Gay Crush.

“Any requests?”

Eddie thought back.

There was only one song that came to mind to kick them off.

Wayne had always loved a certain type of song to sing in the pubs and when Metallica came out with a cover of one of them, a cover of the Thin Lizzy version? It was solidified.

It was their song, regardless of which version was being sung.

Now he just had to try to get through it without bursting into tears.

“Whiskey In The Jar.”

Steve smiled at him bright and blinding. “Thank god you didn’t say The Rattlin’ Bog.”

Eddie grinned back. “I couldn’t dump you in the deep-end like that, sweetheart.”

Cathay was practically bouncing with excitement and when Steve opened his mouth and started to sing, not a hint of bashfulness or embarrassment to be seen, it didn’t take long for Wayne’s friends to join in, singing and clapping along, stomping their feet and whooping.

Eddie just sat and listened. Just for that one song. He could feel it settle around his heart and clog up his throat but he could handle it. Steve’s voice was smooth and clear, like it all came to him with zero effort, like he was born to it, the bastard.

Eddie was able to keep it together through that song and while the applause surrounded him and Steve was starting to field suggestions for more songs, the rest of their table started to join in, the energy of the pub becoming electric.

As the night wore on and Eddie was handed drink after drink, he found himself drifting right into the group, until he was in the middle, Steve’s arm stretched over the back of the booth behind them, squished in together as they were. They didn’t strictly need to be as pressed up against each other as they were, but neither of them were moving and Eddie would take his comforts where he could, listening to the voice vibrating from the body next to him.

Eddie was able to hold it together until they decided they’d do one last song and he knew he wasn’t going to survive it dry eyed.

Of all the money that ever I had,

I spent it in good company.

Steve had barely gotten through the first verse before the tears started, just a slow and quiet trickle but noticed immediately regardless.

Steve’s hand dropped from where it was at the back of the booth to land around Eddie’s shoulders, giving him a little squeeze while Chrissy took his hand, resting her head on his shoulder.

Steve sang slow and unaccompanied, his voice ringing out clear and steady while Cathy and Wayne’s friends listened with heads hung low. He let the last notes fade out, keeping Eddie tucked in tight to his side as the applause rang out and everyone started making their moves to head home.

Even as Eddie had to go through the rigmarole of shaking hands and kissing cheeks, much drunker than he thought he was, Steve held onto him. He heard more than one of Wayne’s friends mutter “You take care of him, you hear?” or “Get him home safe” and each time Steve smiled and nodded, assuring them he would.

He didn’t know exactly when he had become Steve’s problem but he was too drunk to care, it was nice to be looked after for once.

Sunlight was spearing straight through his head. Someone hadn’t closed the blinds properly last night and now he was being assaulted by this world's version of Pelor in what had to be some kind of revenge for something terrible he must have done in a past life.

Dragging his eyes around the trailer, he was thankful that he was on the couch. He hadn’t slept in Wayne’s bed since moving back here. He didn’t think he would be able to for a while yet. At least not until he started moving some of his stuff out and who knew how long that might take.

It didn’t feel right, taking Wayne out of his own bedroom for the second time in his life.

But even so, he wondered which poor misfortune from the pub last night had been the one to deal with him and take him home, probably seeing the state things had been left in and the fact that he was clearly using the couch as a bed.

Maybe it had been Max. He kind of hoped it had been Max, he felt like she could probably relate the best, though Chrissy would have been kind about it too.

Eddie was able to drag himself up to sitting, still clad in his t-shirt and boxers, so at the very least, whoever had spilled him onto the couch last night didn’t get an accidental show.

There was something sticking in the back of his head that it could have been Steve who brought him home but that would be the most embarrassing eventuality of all so he just straight up ignored it, making his coffee as strong as humanly possible and dragging himself and the coffee into the shower.

Today was gonna be… today was gonna be an inside day. He didn’t think he could stomach the outside world, all the brightness and snow and Christmas lights and festive cheer in mourning and hungover.

His trailer was the only one left in the park undecorated. He couldn’t…

He just couldn’t.

Not right now, anyway.

Maybe next year.

He and Wayne had always done it together. Even when Eddie had moved away from home, he’d make the drive back down at the start of December every year to help, staying the night and then going back to Jack for a couple of weeks then coming back again for the week of Christmas.

He-

Oh.

He was going to be completely alone this year.

He didn’t just not have Wayne.

He didn’t have Jack either.

And no doubt, everyone who was back in town was back in town for their own reasons, to see their own friends and family, not to bring in a stray mourner who would undoubtedly bring the mood down.

Well, that was fucking depressing.

But it was fine.

He’d make himself a mountain of waffles and eat nothing but those all day and watch stupid horror movies and smoke himself into oblivion to avoid the destructive hangover and it would be fine.

It would hardly be a Christmas but it would be fine.

A knock at the door made him blink and woke him up from his daily routine of staring off into space. He had finally found himself feeling somewhat human, at least physically. Dressed and dried and on his second round of coffee and first round of painkillers, standing in the doorway to Wayne’s bedroom again when the knock came.

He glanced between the front door and the bedroom, wondering if it was even worth it to see what salesperson or caroler was on the other end. They didn’t deserve his moody ambivalence, but whoever it was knocked again and maybe just the sight of him would be enough to scare them away.

He swung the door open and nearly closed it immediately when Steve looked up at him with a shy smile.

He didn’t know if he could handle this right now.

“Hi.” Steve said, his cheeks pink either from the cold or from embarrassment, Eddie wasn’t sure which.

He was like… fifty percent sure that Steve might be, maybe, giving him some signals but also he got very, very drunk last night and he was pretty sure he remembered crying on someone’s shoulder after he got home too so, he was probably not the best judge of these things.

“Hi.” Eddie clutched his coffee cup tighter in his hand. “I’d invite you in, but I would rather you not see how I’m living right now.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I’ve already- nevermind.” He shook his head. “I can’t stay long anyway, I just wanted to check if you were okay after last night.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows and blew a breath out through his lips. “I’m… I’m. Well. I’m… coping, I suppose.”

Steve nodded, eyes cast down to glance around the porch. There was a flake of snow clinging to one of his eyelashes, Eddie didn’t know how it got there. It hadn’t been snowing that morning, not from what he’d seen anyway, cooped up inside. Steve looked up towards the roof of the trailer and then around the edges, no doubt taking in its depressing and undecorated exterior.

“Listen, I-”

Steve hesitated, his cheeks burning a little brighter, hands shoved in his pockets and arms curled in tight towards himself. Eddie felt a little bad about leaving him out here in the cold, not even inviting him in regardless of how it was inside, it felt unnecessarily mean but he didn’t know if he could handle having Steve in his space right now. He felt like he was at either a knife’s edge or unbearably dull this morning.

“I wanted to offer you- or, I don’t know. If you didn’t have any plans, that- well, I’m hosting everyone at my place on Christmas day and you would be more than welcome if you wanted to come. Y’know… if you weren’t… if you didn’t-”

“If I’m gonna be alone?”

Steve turned his big sad eyes on him, mouth gone slack from shock.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant. I never meant to suggest-”

Eddie shrugged, taking a sip from his mug.

“It’s an unfortunate fact, right now, Stevie. I am alone. It’s depressing but it’s the truth.”

“Well.” Steve took a big breath in. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Eddie hummed, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Who’s everyone? I don’t know if I would be able to handle your parents. No offence.”

Steve scoffed. “None taken. They haven’t set foot in that house in nearly ten years. It’s not theirs anymore, it’s mine.”

“Oh. They dead too?”

To Steve’s credit, he didn’t flinch at the words that were maybe a little harsher than they needed to be, he met Eddie’s eye, determined and unwavering.

“No, they’re not. They left Hawkins, left me the house, called it my inheritance and drove off. They’re in New York now. We exchange Christmas cards but that’s about it.”

Eddie was a little bewildered.

“You don’t talk to them at all?”

Steve shrugged. “We know who we are to each other.”

So Steve still had parents out there in the world and they just… didn’t talk to each other? And from the sounds of it, all three of them seemed fine with that? Now that sounded depressing.

“Steve, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Steve tilted his head, their eyes never once wavering. “It’s a different kind of mourning, I suppose.” He shuffled a little bit in the cold and fuck, Eddie really should have invited him inside, but it looked like he was getting ready to leave anyway. “So, on the day it’ll be me, Rob and Chris. The kids will come over later on in the evening. And I think Dustin has invited those three guys from your band too, so they might show up. Like I said, no pressure, you do whatever it is you’re comfortable with but I think they’d all like to see you, I’d-”

Steve swallowed, his face getting pinker.

“I’d like to see you.”

Eddie could feel a grin tugging at his lips, something giddy and hopeful blooming in his belly despite everything. “Oh, would you now?”

Steve flashed him a charming grin, his shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly while he dragged his eyes down towards Eddie’s lips and then back up. “I would.”

“Well then, I’ll have to see what I can do.”

Despite the things he said to Steve, he wasn’t sure he was going to turn up until he did.

He’d gotten into his car Christmas morning with a thermos of hot chocolate and an insulated blanket and visited Wayne.

He’d placed Wayne’s old fashioned chipped and battered mug that he only ever drank hot chocolate out of at Christmas time, a painted wreath and ‘Merry Christmas’ decorating the front, down next to the wooden cross dug into the head of his grave.

The headstone wouldn’t be finished for another few weeks.

He spread the blanket down over the snow, wishing he’d thought to bring a cushion but powering through regardless.

He poured out some hot chocolate for himself and Wayne, sat back, drank and just… talked.

He told Wayne about his breakup with Jack, about selling the apartment, about moving back into the trailer, apologised for not checking in with him first before he did. He talked about everyone who came to the funeral and the night at the pub, the songs, the people he spoke to, the friends he found there.

Steve.

He might have spent a little longer talking about Steve. It was nothing Wayne hadn’t heard before, though. Eddie had talked about him a lot during school.

He rambled and tripped over his words and laughed and cried.

He was alone in the graveyard. No one else was visiting at this cold hour of the morning, they would all probably stop by after mass or after dinner but Eddie hated the idea of not seeing him first thing.

Going back home after that was hard.

His hands were stiff and creaking, his ass was so numb from the cold it had come back around to hurting again and he didn’t know if it would ever thaw, but sitting in his van outside the trailer, looking at it cold and empty and undecorated he knew he couldn’t spend the whole damn day here.

He wasn’t sure what time he was supposed to show up to Steve’s but it seemed like an informal enough invite so he tried to distract himself as best as he could before he could make his appearance at an appropriate time.

He called it tidying but it was really just moving things around from corner to corner, trying to find spaces for his stuff to live, but at the very least the trailer no longer looked like Eddie had just dumped his entire life out onto the living room floor.

Which… he had but it didn’t really look like it anymore.

By the time the evening started to close in around him, he figured now was as good a time as any to go, it was certainly a better idea than sitting around with his blank word document, bouncing his knee or chewing on his fingers or staring off into space.

He did try to at least pull himself together to look presentable enough. Or as presentable his ripped jeans would allow him to be.

At the last second he reached for one of Wayne’s flannels, a buffalo check in red and black that felt Christmassy enough, slipping it on over his t-shirt and under his jacket.

Steve’s house was completely decked out. Even from the outside Eddie could tell he’d gone all out, every edge of the roof was crawling with twinkling warm white lights, there were LED candle arches lighting up every window and a large wreath surrounding the door knocker. Through the windows he could see that the inside was much the same.

Steve’s whole face lit up into a bright smile when he opened the door to Eddie standing there with his hands in his pockets.

“You came.” He breathed.

“I did.” Eddie smiled back. “I hope you don’t mind, I'm a little empty handed. By the time I remembered it was polite to bring something to these things it was already too late and I’ve been a little scatter-brained recently-”

“No, no. That’s fine, Eds.” Steve waved him in and Eddie tried not to let his stomach completely fly away with him at the nickname. “Come in. I’m just happy you're here, empty handed or not.”

Just like Steve had that night at the pub in his red sweater and perfectly tousled hair, the entire house looked like it had been transported out of a Christmas movie. The space was warmly lit by various lights strung around the bannister, fresh green garlands swagged over doorways and the fireplace, which was roaring and warm.

Red and green stockings were lined up over the mantle, almost too many to fit, and a large regal Christmas tree was decked out to the nines with a mishmash of different coloured decorations.

The tree and the garlands gave the whole place an inviting smell, complemented by the scent of cooking and baking that was wafting in from the kitchen.

Steve helped him slip his jacket off his shoulders, hanging it up over the coat rack.

“Can I get you something to drink? You’re just in time, dinner should be coming out of the oven any second now.”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Steve shot him a blinding smile, turning and disappearing through an entryway while Eddie wandered to stand in front of the fire.

He stared down at it, letting the warmth spread over him wondering if he really should be feeling… more? Less?

He still felt sad that Wayne was gone and excited at the idea that something might be brewing with Steve, but was that right? Was that normal? Should there be other things? He didn’t know.

He was distracted from those thoughts by the sound of bickering coming from the kitchen.

“Rob, let me just-”

“No, get out!”

Steve stumbled through the doorway with a little pout on his face, managing to keep the two wine glasses in his hands from spilling over.

“Did you just get kicked out of your own kitchen?”

“Yeah.” He grumbled, handing one of the glasses to Eddie and Eddie did not blush when their fingers light grazed one another. He was an adult fucking man who’d done many filthy, dirty things in his life. He did not blush at a finger graze. “She won’t let me do anything else. Said I’ve cooked enough already which, I don’t know how that could possibly be true considering it isn’t even finished yet but-”

Steve cut himself off with a bite to his lip.

“Sorry, that’s- nevermind. I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay, Stevie. I don’t mind.”

Steve smiled, a little more to himself than to Eddie and said softly, “I like it when you call me that.”

Eddie had to drag his eyes away, the sweetness of Steve’s grin was too much to handle right now.

“I like it when you call me Eds.”

They were just standing there smiling at each other and slowly rocking on their feet, like they wanted to inch forwards but neither was brave enough to take the leap.

“Are you in the food industry? Is that why Robin gave you the boot?”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “I think I probably would have liked it, but no. I sing. Singer-songwriter, really but- I mean- I’m in music.”

“Really?” Eddie’s mouth was maybe hanging open a little wider than it needed to be, but Steve didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t torn his eyes away. “I mean you have the voice for it, but shit, that’s not an easy industry to be in.”

Steve shrugged. “It could be worse. I work independently so I don’t have anyone breathing down my neck about it.”

“Anything I would have heard?”

“I dunno.” Steve blushed, hiding behind his wine glass as he took a sip. “Don’t really think it’s your type of music.”

“I’ll give anything a try once.”

Steve grinned a little and Eddie could tell there was a joke hidden in there somewhere that Steve graciously didn’t voice aloud. “It’s a mix of everything I suppose. But if you were to put a genre on it I’d call it indie rock.”

“I’m just letting you know right now, little eighteen year old Eddie is green with jealousy. I’ll have to look you up.”

“Please don’t.” Steve grimaced, his whole face bright red. “I don’t think I would be able to live with the embarrassment. And what about you, anyway? How’s the new book going?”

“Uh,” Eddie cast around for an answer before gulping back a mouthful of wine. “It’s going… it’s going. I’ve been kinda stuck at a wall for a few months now, but hopefully something will come to me soon.” He frowned to himself before looking back up at Steve. “How did you hear I was writing a new book? I wouldn’t have even thought you’d remember who I was, like in general.”

“How could I not remember you? You’re hard to forget.”

It was Eddie’s turn to hide behind his wine glass now. He wasn’t exactly sure how true that was, considering everything about his past relationship.

“But… uh. As for how I knew,” Steve rubbed that back of his neck, “I’ve read them. Your books, I mean.”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“You have? And you read them knowing it was me who wrote them?” He laughed to himself. “Didn’t think you’d be into queer vampire action romance.”

“You have no idea what I’m into Eds.” Steve answered, his eyes low and lidded, a smirk pulling up at the side of his mouth.

Eddie was saved from making a further fool of himself when Robin and Chrissy appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Feast’s served!”

The girls each said their hello’s, an arm squeeze from Robin and a hug and a kiss on the cheek from Chrissy before he was practically pushed down into his seat.

The dining table was large enough to have everything on the table, turkey, ham and all the trimmings, bowls with spoons sticking out of them and plates with tongs, even enough space left over for candles and decor in the middle of it all.

As bowls were passed around and both Steve and Robin made the first move on the food, tipping servings out to Eddie and Chrissy before themselves, Eddie found himself getting lost in conversation from all three directions.

He gossiped with Chrissy while Steve and Robin bickered over the best cut of the turkey.

Throughout the dinner, Robin tried to sneakily get rid of her sprouts by dropping them one by one onto Steve’s plate when he wasn’t looking, but he noticed every time, savouring them with a satisfaction that could only come from someone who actually liked them.

He got into his own good natured argument with Robin about marching band while Steve and Chrissy talked sports.

And he flirted.

Brazenly.

Probably far more brazenly than he should have but Steve always rose to meet the challenge with a curl of his lip and a glint in his eye.

By the time dessert was making the rounds he was pretty sure he could have fallen asleep sitting at the dining table, but finding room for the cakes and pies and trifles, as always.

Steve had stopped drinking after that first glass and while Eddie didn’t exactly want to get completely plastered, he still allowed himself to get to a polite level of tipsy.

The girls had no such worries, already rosy cheeked and a little sloppy by the time the kids and Eddie’s band arrived.

The rest of the night was full of Christmas music, the most ridiculous games of charades which Eddie won every time, pulling on his old DM skills and after a passionate argument on what the worst Christmas movie was, the winning candidate was turned on, everyone laughing and jeering along with it like it was a Rocky Horror showing, Eddie pressed into Steve’s side on the couch.

It was during a particularly loud moment, all of them booing the screen when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket.

Pulling it out he saw the screen light up with a name he hadn’t really thought of for most of the night.

Jack.

He stared down at the name for longer than he really needed to before sighing to himself.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

Steve glanced between the phone and his face before settling into a gentle smile.

“Okay.” He gave his shoulder a small squeeze and Eddie got up, bringing the phone to his ear and stepping out of the room.

“Hello?”

There was a momentary pause on the other line before a quiet voice spoke. “Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what to say back to him. Why are you calling? Why are you suddenly interested? Has the guilt finally gotten to you? Is it because it’s Christmas and you thought I’d be alone?

In the end he didn’t have to say anything.

“I’m just- I guess I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” Jack sounded resigned and a little sad. If they had still been together, Eddie would have been trying to drag him out to the Christmas market or trivia nights or Christmas parties for the last few weeks and they would have been heading out in a day or two to spend the rest of the holidays with Jack’s family in Ohio. Jack had only come back with him for a Christmas with Wayne once before.

But it sounded like Jack was already with his family. Eddie could hear his mothers Michael Bublé Christmas album playing softly in another room.

“I’m doing…” Eddie sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I’m doing okay.”

A loud chorus of laughter burst through the sitting room, shouting and jeering following quickly behind.

“You’re out somewhere?”

Eddie glanced back through the door, watching everyone gathered either talking to each other, pointing in indignation at the tv, tucking into another serving of dessert or knocking back the last of their drink, all backlit by the Christmas lights and the fire.

“I’m with friends.”

“Good.” He could hear Jack nodding, wondering how he was handling his mothers questions or his fathers awkwardness that Eddie usually deflected for him. “That’s good. I’m glad you- I’m glad you’re not alone.”

No thanks to you, Eddie wanted to snap but kept it down. He didn’t have the energy for an argument right now. Didn’t want one. It was Christmas and he wanted to keep the comfortable, fuzzy feeling around for as long as he could.

Steve lifted his eyes, looking right at him and grinning, something soft, something warm and easy, just for him.

Eddie smiled back. “Yeah, me too.”

Steve drove him home that night. It was nearly two in the morning by the time he was bundled up in the car with a lap full of tupperware and his heart feeling lighter than it had for weeks now.

He’d been offered a room to stay in, but had refused. He didn’t want to impose any more than he already had and if he was honest with himself, he wanted to be at home.

Plus he hadn’t brought anything for an overnight.

When they pulled up, Eddie tried to shuffle his way out of the car without dropping anything but eventually had to huff and hand some of the containers over when Steve offered to help him carry them all.

They were inside before Eddie remembered his previous refusal to let Steve in through the door, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Steve gave a cursory glance around but his eyes always seemed to be drawn back to Eddie, placing the containers down on the kitchen counter and assuring him he’d be back in the morning to drive Eddie back to his car.

“I hope you had a good time.” Steve looked at him, all warm and gooey and too good to be true.

“I had a great time, I think I needed it.” Eddie fidgeted with his rings, nervous all of a sudden. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Of course. It was great to see you, I’m glad you came.”

They stood, staring at each other and Eddie had the urge to hide his face behind his hair, but he resisted.

Steve reached out, brushing a curl behind his ear and then leant in, placing a sweet and chaste kiss against his cheek and Eddie was left completely dazed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Eddie breathed, nodding. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

He watched Steve step out onto the porch and slide into his car, driving away with a little waggle of his fingers. Eddie unconsciously brought his hand up to brush over his cheek where he could still feel the tingle of Steve’s lips against his skin.

When the headlights of Steve’s car turned the corner, Eddie closed the door, staring at it in silence for a few moments before a hysterical little giggle burst out of his throat.

His whole body was wracked through with momentary excitement, forcing him to spin in a silly little circle. He stifled another giggle, sighing it out before his eyes landed on the couch.

He looked back up at a photo from a few years ago, of him and Wayne on a road trip that they had taken, sitting on a wooden fence surrounding a national park. Wayne always said it was just “One step at a time, boy. You’ll never get anywhere if you don’t take that first step.”

“Yeah, I hear you, Wayne.” Eddie responded out into the empty trailer. “First step.”

He looked up towards the bedroom.

He felt like, maybe tonight, maybe he could be comfortable with that first step.

Pulling a fresh set of bedsheets out of storage and turning back to the bed with them bundled up in his arms, he figured he��d just have to take it one step at a time.

I made a short playlist to go along with this fic containing the songs sung and the different versions mentioned along with one or two others I think they may have sung and my own favourites.

Some of you may have read I lost a family member a couple of weeks ago and I suppose this is my way of working through my feelings about it. It hit a little harder than I had intended but was healing to write nonetheless.

AO3

As always, my biggest thanks and much love to @hbyrde36 for the beta work with this and to the Stranger Things Writers Guild Discord for their motivation!

Christmas lights divider by @silkholland

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #penny00dreadful #eddie x steve #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #tw character death #tw funeral #tw grief #tw mourning #christmas fic

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lime-bloods · 9 months

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Homestuck's Gnosticism: The World / The Wheel

Everyone knows Homestuck is "a Gnostic story".

Wait, why does it feel like we've had this exact conversation before...?

AH. SO NICE OF YOU TO JOIN ME.

If you followed along with the first post in this series, you'll be familiar already with the Gnostic nature of Homestuck's central conflict between the spirit world and the flesh. And even if I say so myself, I think that post is pretty definitive; if you're ever unsure what a particular character's motivations or end goal are, the Conflict will tell you. But what's conspicuously absent from the post is any explanation of what actually happens in Homestuck. We've covered the why, but very little of the how.

I left us off on the "synonymous goals" that spring naturally from this conflict between flesh and spirit; attaining ultimate knowledge, and escaping the confines of Homestuck itself. Eagle-eyed readers probably spotted what was lying between the lines, there: the comic is called Homestuck because it's about being stuck in a house, so the ending is about escaping the house. But what does that really look like? And how did they get in that house in the first place?

Let's return very briefly to a quote I used in the previous post. "[Y]our ultimate self [...] unlike god tiers or bubble ghosts or whatever, it really IS immortal". Two assumptions naturally grow out of this fact. First, and probably most obvious: when John dies, he's not really gone. The idea of him still exists out there, somewhere, and in our minds, so he still exists. Second, though: if the idea of him is eternal, John obviously didn't start existing when he was born. So again we ask, where did he come from?

How did John get here? Where does he go? The answers to these questions are like the four sides of one hypercoin, in that Homestuck is a time loop... of a sort.

To begin to understand this, we need to reiterate what was basically "the point" of the first post: Homestuck operates on two distinct levels, a spiritual plane consisting purely of ideas, and a "literal" physical dimension. What happens on these two planes often mirrors each other, and because Homestuck itself is a work of fiction which operates in the realm of ideas, they can even intersect. But ultimately, what "literally" happens to the characters in Homestuck is not the same as the ideas the comic is expressing in its spiritual metanarrative.

The fact that a physical time loop is impossible is something Homestuck inherits from real-life physics: to put it simply, John being born can't be the physical John from the end of his timeline, because that John would be way too old to be a baby! But ideological time loops are not only something sanctioned by Paradox Space, but essential to its very being; they are where it gets its name, after all! To repeat another lynchpin quote from the comic: there is essentially nothing new in paradox space. Any idea that seems new necessarily must have just come from somewhere else.

"SbaHJ has the distinction of being the symbolic language of [Dave's] subconscious." (Homestuck: Book 3: Act 4, p. 282)

Frequently we see this expressed in the rooms representing characters' dreams, which, as discussed, sort of transcend the character's physical form and represent the broad ideas that characters are made of. Dave's dreams (pictured above) are covered with drawings of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, characters he seemingly invented as a child after being inspired by a drawing Terezi sent to him. But Terezi's drawing was based on Dave's own illustrations she saw later on in his timeline; so which of them truly "invented" Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff? Neither of them did; SBaHJ exists as pure subconscious ideological matter floating through Paradox Space, only sometimes being picked up by a character's conscious mind. Similarly, Gamzee tries to manipulate this subconscious realm when he uses his psychic powers to place a terrifying effigy of Jack Noir in John's dreams, as punishment for the destruction of the trolls' session. But as we know, Jack Noir only took that form because of the nightmares this doll caused! So again; neither John or Gamzee thought up the demonic clown "first". It existed in the realm of ideas before either of them ever had the chance to invent it.

These kinds of ideological loops are the bread-and-butter of jujus. We're told their origins are untraceable and that they can't be destroyed, but neither of these things is really true; these superstitions exist only to obfuscate the true rule that jujus "emerge spontaneoUsly from the void." Rather than be erased from existence, a juju can only be banished to that same void of nonexistence where disembodied ideas live, and then pulled back into the world of dreams by a prospective psychic.

With these rules established, now we can really delve into with appreciation the ideological time loop that underpins all of Homestuck. And like all good time loops, the best place to start is at the end.

ACT 7 (Are you tired of seeing it yet?)

Let's not insult anyone's intelligences here: you know and I know that Caliborn's little house juju looks like the Homestuck logo because it is Homestuck; when he wins it from Yaldabaoth, he takes control of it, and when he sucks the heroes inside, he's trapping them in the confines of his material world.

What's essential to keep in mind here, though, is that the power of a juju is the power of the idea itself. It's easiest for us to think of the word juju in Homestuck as a concrete noun, referring simply to a magical object. But the word's real-life origins, referring more abstractly to magic or enchantment, are still relevant in this fictional framework. Lil Cal isn't just "a juju", but is "FILLED WITH BAD JUJU." Magic in Homestuck has always really been about the idea that believing in something can make it real, and the purpose of all Homestuck's dealings with chucklevoodoos and jujus is to evoke the anthropological concept of the "fetish"; an item whose power comes from human beings ascribing supernatural qualities to it. Jujus are all part of the "game" the cherubs play, with all its rules and quirks; breaking an enchantment is like breaking a rule, in that it changes nothing about the real world: you've just infringed upon an idea. The juju isn't the object; the juju is the power, good or bad, ascribed to the object.

All of this is really just to say one thing: Caliborn's home juju can't trap the flesh versions of John and his friends; as we established, you can't send old John back in time to become young John. But what a juju can trap is something far more important; the ideas of John and his friends. This is why it doesn't matter if the heroes who travel back to the beginning of everything to beat Lord English while he's still a kid are the "main" timeline versions of those heroes from some point in the future, or if the Epilogues' version of events is truth and they're some "irrelevant" offshoots: because all of those characters are represented by the same idea, and that's what Caliborn puts in the box. No matter what timeline John is from, he's from Homestuck, to Homestuck he must return, and as such Homestuck is what he must be forced to escape. Refer again back to the previous post: Caliborn can't create or destroy, only take pure ideas and alchemise them down into a form he can control.

And that's why Act 7 so enigmatically features two different white home-doors (above), seemingly so interconnected yet effectually unrelated. Because Act 7 takes up the hefty role of concluding two storylines simultaneously: allowing the "real", flesh-world versions of John and his friends to escape Lord English's reality through one door, while also concluding Homestuck's metanarrative by setting the ideas of John and his friends free of their prison through another door.

So far, most of this is probably stuff you'd have either figured out on your own or at least heard from someone else already. And if we set aside such distractions as run-ins with radioactive imps and omnipotent dog-gods, the "whats" and "hows" of the heroes' story are probably the easier parts of Homestuck to figure out. What's more difficult to fully comprehend on a first pass is how Lord English himself fits into all of this.

If you've been following me for any stretch of time, you'll notice in my analysis of Homestuck I've returned to the topic of black holes frequently. I've lost track of how many versions I've published of what I call "Black Hole Theory". And I won't link to any of them here, because ultimately Black Hole Theory was a corkboard to which I could pin the evidence that would eventually, piece by piece, lead us to where we are right now:

If the home juju is a white "hole" leading out of the confines of Homestuck as a story, then black holes are the doors that lead back in. An early clue to this comes in the form of Calliope's stage in the heart of a spiral: these spirals are Calliope's visions of black holes, which she uses as "dark pocket[s]" from which "no information can escape" - a literal description of a black hole - and that stage is the very same one Caliborn stages his story on when he takes full control of Homestuck's narrative. The meaning here should be clear: Calliope creates black holes, and it's the center of these black holes where stories can take place.

But for all the evidence we need to suggest that Lord English's fall into a black hole leads to something more complex than just his destruction, we need not look further than conventional science:

In the quantum world [...] information cannot be created nor destroyed.

Lisa Zyga, on the conservation of quantum information.

This rule that "ideas" are truly immortal, and that any time an idea seems to be destroyed it must have merely been transported somewhere else, holds true even in the scientific world of black hole physics. This has been played with in MS Paint Adventures before; theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking's take on black holes was that some stuff could in fact escape a black hole, contrary to Calliope's assertions, in the form of Hawking radiation. But Hussie's own version of the story was always a lot more to the point: something gets sucked into the center of a black hole, it gets shot out somewhere else. In hypothetical physics this is called a white hole - no doubt you can see where this is going.

So Lord English's final moments in Homestuck see him not destroyed, or killed, or defeated in combat in any traditional way, but sucked right back into Homestuck. What exactly does that mean?

Homestuck, p. 8105

As long as we're talking the power of ideas and symbols, possibly the most blatant a symbol can get is in the form of a gesture; and the thumbs-down is possibly one of the most ancient gestures there is. Dave gets one, Tavros gets one, and, so they say, even the Roman gladiators got them. This precedent makes the meaning of the gesture clear: "you're going down." And it makes sense, too, that Hussie, the "good author", would signal the "evil author's" demise in such a way. But some might question the effectiveness of the power of gesture at such a pivotal point in the comic. Are we really to believe that English's defeat was, even in part, the result of another author merely willing him away like a tyrant doing away with an entertainer who has fallen out of favour? Or did the Hussie-character actually have some kind of plan to deal with his Hulk-like alter ego?

Of course he did.

...now Caliborn has hijacked the property of his experiential continuum which he has reason to believe is called "the narrative". Little does he know you recently made the shrewd decision to purchase(?) the ACT 6 ACT 6 SUPERCARTRIDGE EXPANSION PACK! Just plug it into any in-universe console port to unlock a variety of exciting new gameplay features and proceed through remaining canon unfettered, while Caliborn muddles through six new sub-sub-acts of infantile "subversive parody" targeting the very tale he inhabits, none the wiser!

To allow our heroes the chance escape their narrative prison, English isn't just to be trapped in their old cell; it's to be trapped within an infinitely-recursing cell, not just reliving one story over and over again but forced to live out infinitely many different stories. Not just a narrative loop; a narrative spiral. That's what being sucked into the black hole means for Lord English.

When Roxy - the Hero of Void whose very symbol is that of the black hole - banishes Caliborn-as-Cal into the void, he becomes one of the very wandering ideas with which English plays like dolls. "Instances of [Doc Scratch] have spawned in countless universes", and they have "never once failed to complete [their] objective": whether he wants to or not, Lord English will always be born again. In a new universe, perhaps, maybe even in a different shape, but his role always the same. Caliborn thinks that by filling the supercartridge with special stardust and corrupting the story, he's won, but looking at the bigger picture the truth is clear: he's only playing by somebody else's rules.

Just as Skaia uses lotus "seeds" to store items away for later use, and employs meteors as "Seeds" to send important elements back in time to set up the beginnings of new stories, so too are English's cue ball "seeds" only a means of transporting his essence from one place to the other; the black hole and the Rapture are, after all, only Skaia and the Reckoning sized up to a truly macrocosmic scale. The cue ball is able to be a font of endless knowledge because it is the "white hole" at the other end of the black hole! No information can escape a black hole, and therefore there is no information that escapes Scratch's attention -- he is limited only by his "pockets of void", which exist only to, in time, be filled, as more and more falls into these black holes like a multiversal game of billiards. Not only is this a transparent allusion to one of the most fundamental representations of the paradoxical time loop as a concept, but it is also the ultimate insult to injury: despite having lived an infinite number of lives, and being cursed to live out an infinite number more, Lord English cannot know what his fate will be until he literally falls into it. This is what forces him to lose, over and over again for eternity, while our heroes triumphantly escape Homestuck onto greener pastures.

#homestuck #analysis #lord english #black holes #metanarrative

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