#86: eight six
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Fans waiting for news for 86 Season 2 Announcement:
#86#86 エイティシックス#86 eighty six#86--eight six#86-エイティシックス-#this is my 2nd favorite military anime after attack on titan#similarities and differences from both series#hiroyuki sawano#worked on both shows too#and both series involves discrimination and saving humanity
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Meu 7 anime favorito 86: Eight-Six ♥️
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youtube
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☼Sphere's 86 -Eighty Six- Masterlist☼
"𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬… 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰? 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺?" -𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘪 𝘕𝘰𝘶𝘻𝘦𝘯
"𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭; 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘴." -𝘝𝘰𝘭𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘦
☀︎ - 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵
☁︎ - 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵
⛅︎ - 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧
🔮Republic of San Magnolia
☼ Vladilena Milizé (Lena)
☼ Henrietta von Penrose (Annette)
☼ Dustin Jaeger
🔮Eight-Six
☼ Shinei Nouzen (Shin)
☼ Raiden Shuga
☼ Anju Emma
☼ Kurena Kukumila
☼ Theoto Rikka (Theo)
☼ Daiya Irma
☼ Kaie Taniya
☼ Shiden Iida
☼ Shana Aya
☼ Reki Michihi
☼ Rito Oriya
☼ Yuuto Crow
☼ Isuka
🔮Giadian Empire
☼ Grethe Wenzel
☼ Erwin Marcel
☼ Brent Bernholdt
☼ Eugene Rantz
☼ Willem Ehrenfried
☼ Kiriya Nouzen
🔮Roa Gracia
☼ Viktor Idinarohk
🔮Alliance of Wald
☼ Olivia Aegis
🔮Regicide Fleet Countries
☼ Ishmael Ahab
🔮Noiryanaruse
☼ Himmelnåde Réze (Hilnå)
#masterlist#anime masterlist#eighty-six#giadian empire#Shadow's Sphere☽#86 eighty six#86 eight six masterlist#republic of san magnolia#federal republic of giad#united kingdom of roa gracia#alliance of wald#regicide fleet countries#holy theocracy of noiryanaruse
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Part 2 to this post
When gay marriage became legal, everyone expected Steve and Eddie to run to the courthouse and get it done.
They’d waited long enough.
But they were watching the news on a hospital room television instead of their home, keeping Wayne company while he received his last chemo treatment.
It had been a really rough six months, Eddie taking the brunt of caring for Wayne so Steve could work and pay the bills for all of them. But they wanted to.
Wayne had done so much for both of them, he deserved to be taken care of now.
The doctors had said he was getting to an age where the chemo would most likely only extend his life by a few years at most, that the cancer growing in his body would only be stopped temporarily by this drug that made him weaker than any cancer could.
At first, he didn’t want it. He told them both it wasn’t worth putting his body through it at his age, but Eddie convinced him through tears that he wasn’t ready to let him go yet.
And Wayne always did have a soft spot for Eddie’s tears.
Every other Friday, Wayne was brought to the hospital by Eddie, sometimes accompanied by Steve if his day off lined up right, hooked up to an IV of fluids and a harsh chemo mix, and kept for observation for 8 hours to ensure it didn’t cause any major issues on his frailer than he’d like to admit body.
The last treatment hadn’t gone well. Wayne ended up having low oxygen levels and high blood pressure, so they kept him overnight. Overnight turned into 3 nights, four days, which is sort of like a cruise to the Bahamas if you take out the fact they were in a hospital in Indiana.
Steve was holding Eddie’s hand as they all watched the tv, their silver wedding bands from a decade ago resting on their ring fingers.
It didn’t have to be legal to mean something to them.
Wayne had been much livelier over the last 24 hours, his blood pressure back at a normal for him level, though his oxygen level still fluctuated between too low and normal.
“Would ya look at that? They did it.”
Steve looked over at where he was sitting up in bed, smiling at the tv.
“They did.”
Eddie was wiping a tear from his cheek.
“Took them long enough.”
Everyone in the room huffed out an unamused laugh.
It did take way too long.
“Steve.”
Steve looked back over to Wayne and noticed he was looking tired again, like the news was the only reason he’d been forcing himself to be awake.
“You remember that bet?”
They’d made a lot of bets over the years, usually during March Madness. Wayne purposely bet against Steve because it was an easy win, even though they liked the same teams and often had similar brackets.
So no, he didn’t really remember whatever bet he was talking about now.
“Oh come on. I’m the old one here. You’re supposed to have great memory.”
“I’ve had like, eight concussions. My memory is like a goldfish.”
Eddie snorted next to him and nodded in agreement. Just this morning Eddie had to remind him that it was trash day despite it being the same day every week for the last 17 years they’d lived in their house.
“You owe me $5.”
“I’d remember that.”
“Eddie asked for you.”
Steve and Eddie looked at each other with concern. Was Wayne having a stroke? Was he slowly losing lucidity? He’d never shown any signs of memory problems, but sometimes being in the hospital had a lot of negative effects.
“When Eddie woke up in ‘86. I told you he’d ask for ya first and he did. Never collected on the bet because you two were too much.”
Steve suddenly remembered everything from that day, tears pooling in his eyes at how all of this started.
If he hadn’t stayed to hold Eddie’s hand then, would he be holding it now? Would they be husbands in every way but legally?
Steve looked at Eddie with a smile.
Then he turned to Wayne and smirked.
“Bet you $5 I propose right now.”
Wayne smirked back at him.
“Bet you won’t.”
Steve gave him the look that said ‘just watch me’ and stood up, dropping to one knee slowly.
“Eddie Munson. We already wear rings. We’ve lived together as husbands for so long, I can’t even believe we aren’t actually married. But I want to be. I want to fill out the stupid paperwork at the courthouse and maybe plan a little wedding with our kids and family. I want to have a honeymoon and be young and in love even though we aren’t young anymore. I want to be yours in every way starting right now. How does that sound?”
Eddie was crying. He was always more emotional than Steve, he just hid it better. Usually.
“You wanna be mine?”
“I’m already yours. I just want us to have everything.”
“Then I wanna be yours.”
“Good.”
Eddie leaned forward and kissed him, more passionately than they usually ever did in public or around Wayne. It was a special occasion, though, what choice did they really have?
After a minute, Steve pulled away and looked over to Wayne.
“Sorry about your $5.”
“I’m not.”
Wayne had never been more pleased to not be able to collect on a bet.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ao3fic#tumblr drabbles#headcanon#part 2#stranger things#my fic#wayne munson#future fic#wayne is old and sick here but he does not die
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BALIKTURLERİ - MEGA+ (2)
Kuhli loach are a popular freshwater aquarium species known for their unique appearance and peaceful nature. These bottom-dwelling fish have long, slender bodies with distinctive black and brown stripes running the length of their bodies. Kuhli Loaches are social creatures and should be kept in groups of at least six to eight. They are shy and sensitive and require plenty of hiding places in the aquarium to feel secure. Kuhli Loaches are omnivores and will eat a variety of foods, including algae wafers, sinking pellets, and live or frozen foods. In terms of tank requirements, Kuhli Loaches prefer a well-planted aquarium with plenty of hiding places and a soft, sandy substrate. They also require clean, well-oxygenated water with a pH between 6.0 and 7.5 and a temperature range of 75-86°F. Kuhli Loaches are peaceful fish and can be kept with other non-aggressive species, such as rasboras and tetras. However, they should not be kept with aggressive or territorial fish, as they are easily intimidated and can become stressed. When it comes to care tips, Kuhli Loaches are relatively low-maintenance fish. They do an excellent job of keeping aquariums clean by eating leftover food and other debris. However, they require a varied diet to ensure optimal health and should be fed a mix of commercial and live or frozen foods. Kuhli Loaches are also sensitive to water conditions and should be monitored closely for signs of stress or illness. Overall, with proper care and attention, Kuhli Loaches can be a fascinating and rewarding addition to any freshwater aquarium.
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Porcelain Steve - Part 4
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine
"I don't think this is a good idea," Nancy says, a week later, as she takes a step back. She doesn't seem aware of the physical distance she's added between herself and Robin, but more importantly, herself and Steve in Robin's outstretched arm.
Robin frowns, pulling Steve back towards her body, eyes flicking to meet with Eddie's where he's been hovering awkwardly off to the side, feeling so very out of place. He was going to stay in the van, but when they arrived Robin had raised an eyebrow and said 'aren't you coming?' So, he'd climbed out and followed her into the Wheeler's living room, where he is now.
"What?" Robin asks.
Nancy crosses her arms and looks off to the side. "We shouldn't pass the doll around like this. The more we move it, the bigger chance of someone breaking it."
"It?" seethes Robin, "Steve is not an it!"
"Shit, no, Robin I know that. I didn't mean to say that out loud," Nancy says, then her face screws up as she immediately regrets saying that. "I don't mean that, either. I just, this is. Difficult. For me."
Eddie can't help the scoff that leaves him at that. As if Nancy is the only one taking this harshly. If she knew how long Dustin had cried into his chest two days ago she'd probably have a bit more perspective. Eddie's come to realize she's a badass with a shotgun, a great strategist in dire situations, but when it comes to being a person with emotions and feelings? He's not sure Nancy learned how to do that.
That might be unfair of him to say because he didn't know Nancy before spring break of '86 and didn't really get to know her before she packed up and went to college. This is the first summer since then, so still not a whole lot of 'hanging out and getting to know Nancy Wheeler time' has happened.
He did get to know Jonathan and Argyle, though. Got to hear about her past with Jonathan and Steve (Eddie feels a bit like an idiot for everything he said about Nancy to Steve during the worst week of his life, but he's used to being embarrassed by things he says and pretending he's not). So, he's heard about her steamrolling over people's emotions with her own logic and wants, though can concede it never seems to be intentional.
He tries to lower his hackles because Robin's already on the defensive and Eddie doesn't know Nancy. Just knows of her from people she's hurt, which is almost always a biased retelling anyway.
"Like it's not difficult for all of us?" Robin asks.
"No, that's not what I meant. Just- give me a moment!" Nancy whips around, so that neither Robin or Eddie can see her face. Her shoulders heave up and down like she's taking several deep breaths.
Eddie moves into Robin's space but hovers just beside her, unsure if she'd welcome a hand on her shoulder or not. She huffs out a sigh, as if able to read his mind, and the next thing he knows she's weaseling her way in between him and his own arm, using him as a leaning post like she might with Steve if he were, y'know, still a human and not a doll. He's not used to how touchy Robin is yet because she's only like this with Steve but he's getting there. He's not Robin's soulmate, and he's not trying to be, but he does want to be there for her while Steve can't.
"I'm surprised you're giving her space to think," Eddie whispers into the top of Robin's head.
"Yeah, well, Steve doesn't need to hear us arguing. It's like, all he hears lately."
He pats her arm with his hand since she's draped his arm across her shoulders.
Nancy finally turns around. "Can. Can we put Steve up in my room? I have to say some things that I'm not ready for him to hear yet."
"Oh." Robin says, before offering Steve out.
Nancy takes him, muttering a soft, "I'm sorry, Steve." before she disappears up the stairs.
"What's on your mind, Wheeler?" Eddie asks, breaking the silence that had settled uncomfortably since Nancy's return to the living room.
"I don't really think of Steve as an it. I don't. It's just- easier for me to think of the solution if I'm not thinking about how that's really Steve. I know that's Steve, that he's been transformed, but if I acknowledge that, think about it too much, I spiral. I've taken to just... thinking about some abstract magic doll instead of Steve. So, that was- it was an accident. I didn't mean to say it."
He feels Robin nodding her head, adjusting her stance as she crosses her arms.
Nancy continues, "I don't think Steve should spend time here. With Mike or I. We aren't- it's not going to be good for Steve. He's not going to feel welcomed or wanted here. Except maybe for with Holly, but she cannot know he's here. She'd try and play with him."
Eddie frowns. He understands that Mike isn't going to part of the Hang Out With Porcelain Steve rotation, because whatever beef they have can't be fixed while Steve's like this, and until it's fixed, that would just be torture for both of them. He's not sure why Nancy thinks she'd be just as bad, though, so he asks, "No Holly, no Mike. Why are you also a no?"
The look on Nancy's face is comical, a mix of indignation, sadness, and a bit of how can you seriously not already know the answer mixed. "Because I won't hang out with him. I can't be walking around my house with a porcelain doll that looks like my ex-boyfriend. He'll be left, probably face down, on my dresser, until someone else's turn comes around."
"You could put in the effort, you know. It's not going to kill you to pretend to care for a day," Robin says.
Nancy sucks in a sharp breath. "I do care! Just because I don't want to cuddle with Doll Steve and tell him all about my day doesn't mean I don't care. Just because I don't express my feelings and emotions the same way you do doesn't mean I don't have them."
"Ok, right, yeah, that was unfair of me," Robin concedes, "but what's the part you aren't saying? None of this sounds like something you had to lock Steve in your room for. It's understandable, and Steve wouldn't hold it against you, you know."
"I know! I do! That's why I can't. There's- Robin, you have to know. Steve and I aren't- we're still more like ex's than friends. It's... complicated. We're working on it, though, the being friends thing. But it's..."
"Complicated," Robin sighs, stepping away from Eddie now, halfway to Nancy before she stops walking, hands on her hips.
"That spring break, it fucked us all up, and the months that followed, but I was so- Steve and I were dancing around each other, and Jonathan and I were good, then not, on and then off and then on. And I-I led Steve on, because I would turn to him when Jonathan and I were fighting, or on a break, or whatever-" Nancy stops to take a breath.
Eddie feels something ugly rising in him, jealousy and anger. He doesn't have any right to be jealous. Steve and he are friends, and Steve's straight so it's not like Eddie ever even had a chance, but he's jealous anyway. That Nancy gets that kind of attention from Steve. That she can just keep pieces of Steve on a string, enjoying him when she wants and discarding him when she doesn't. Anger that she can just treat Steve like a yoyo and get away with it.
A little angry at Steve, too, for letting her do it.
"Did you and Steve have sex while you and Jonathan were together?" Robin seethes.
"No! No! There was one time, Jonathan and I were off-again and I tried- but no!" Nancy is pink in the face, and Eddie's surprised she even answers. It's not his or Robin's business if they did. He thinks she might only be answering honestly because it's Robin asking. "Steve said no. He told me he wasn't going to do that the Jonathan. Because he knew what it felt like to be on that side. And even now that Jonathan and I are done, moved on, Steve and I aren't- so it's complicated."
That's news to Eddie. He thought Nancy and Jonathan were still a couple. He's a little shocked to learn that Nancy is confirmed available and Steve didn't jump on the chance.
"Oh! I get it, now, why this is not a good idea," Robin says. Great that she knows, because Eddie still doesn't. "He said no, didn't he?"
Who said no to what?
Nancy's eyes snap to Robin. "What?"
"When you asked Steve to be your boyfriend again. He said no."
"He told you-?"
"No," Robin interrupts, "Steve would never, and you know that. I just know Steve, and the one thing he would never tell me about if it happened. That's why you don't want him here."
"You're in love with him!" Eddie blurts because he's also just figured it out and like Robin often does, has no brain to mouth filter.
Nancy looks to Eddie now, a small frown on her face. "Possibly. But it doesn't matter because I had my chance and it's over now. So, I can't have him here. Not while he's like this."
"I'll go get him," Robin says, leaving the living room.
"Eddie," Nancy locks eyes with him. The look on her face is pretty intense. "He told me no because he thought he was in love with someone else."
He blinks back at her. "Were you hoping he told me who? 'Cause he didn't. That's a question better left for Robin."
All he gets in response is an eye roll.
#steddie#platonic stobin#porcelain steve#i think steve and nancy could become friends again one day#but like... maybe in 1995 or something like that#after plenty of time has past#its rough to stay friends with an ex you were in love with#wheres the rest of the wheeler family you might ask#good question. out somewhere doing something#my fic
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ebug's sister, dm91
found the first two stills from @heavenlyhischier (thank you for inspiring this post) the rest i keep in my camera roll for lols and i forget where they're from, probably twitter 😀
last season! (2022-23) part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven / part twelve
(2023-24)! part one / part two
blakefriarr_
liked by nicohischier, jackhughes and 7,221 others
blakefriarr_: welcome back all, i hope you've missed me (i know you have, the hoping is just a formality)
this is definitely an episode of the thing. i both seem to have forgotten what i call it and how many times i've done it. uni brain fry, or something.
however, i remember that it's my civic duty to provide a rundown.
the first two photos are of my boy and my son being all smiley and giggly. they're the cutest
the third slide is me finding out that one day i'm going to be married to someone with the middle name jpg. i don't really know how to feel abt that one since i'm definitely more of a pdf file girlie.
it is also me finding out that i was wrong all along, and luke is the one who wears 86 and plays forward... i'm gonna have to delve into that a little more cause i've been calling them the wrong names and nobody even said anything ://
and in the last slide, we have.... that. despite the fact that i was indeed the one to take this incredible photo of captain eyebrows, i cannot say for certain what is actually happening. a sneeze? a kick? an accidental kick, mid sneeze? more to come.
view 688 comments..
holtz_10: son??
holtz_10: i did not agree to this
→ lhughes_06: just let it happen man there's no way out of it
dawson1417: hold that thought, actually, does this make me a dad????????
→ holtz_10: no.
→ blakefriarr_: alex be nice to your father
→ dawson1417: i'm not ready to be a dad
→ holtz_10: yeah man no shit you're like three months older than me?
→ blakefriarr_: will you be my son if i demote dawson
→ holtz_10: . fine
blakefriarr_: @/lhughes_06 you have a new brother !!
→ jackhughes: does that make me and quinn also your sons...?
→ blakefriarr_: you were put up for adoption and quinn filed for emancipation
→ _quinnhughes: i fend for myself cause i figured i was better off being cared for by an actual adult
→ blakefriarr_: is the adult in the room with us????
→ _quinnhughes: at least i know which one of your sons is actually luke??
→ blakefriarr_: omg did i accidentally send moose off instead of jachary ?!?!?!
dawson1417: jack i want you to know that i was only partially on board with giving you up
→ jackhughes: how much is partially?!?!?!?!?!
→ dawson1417: idk like 90%
→ dawson1417: 97 when you make charlie mad
→ jackhughes: feeling the love merc
nicohischier: can you call me literally anything that doesn't involve my eyebrows
→ blakefriarr_: captain slut was a good one
→ nicohischier: eyebrows it is
→ blakefriarr_: pleasure doing business with ya, captain slut
→ nicohischier: i give up
→ blakefriarr_: you lorb me
→ nicohischier: yeah yeah whatever. get away from me
tannercharlotte: no baby, his first name is jpg, he just goes by his middle name
→ blakefriarr_: 😟
→ dawson1417: pls don't divorce me before i can marry you
→ adamfantilli: what he said i can't miss being rookie of honour
→ blakefriarr_: is now a bad time to tell you jj is gonna be my dude of honour
→ jj.friar31: ..wait fr?
→ dawson1417: can i propose before you guys plan my wedding pls
→ tannercharlotte: speed it tf up then buddy
seamuscasey26: blako’s couch cushions
→ blakefriarr_: sheamo’s throw blankets ‼️
→ seamuscasey26: unreal combo
→ luca.fantilli: have i touched on how much i deeply loathe this duo
→ blakefriarr_: you’re salty cause fants’ ottomans was a flop
→ luca.fantilli: lan did say i should've gone with side tables :/
→ blakefriarr_: and you didn't listen?!?!? liked by landen.clark
ryangraves27: hi
→ blakefriarr_: hi gravy, you miss me?
→ ryangraves27: i wouldn't word it like that
jj.friar31: mom wants to know if you're coming for dinner tonight
→ blakefriarr_: what's she making
→ jj.friar31: lasagna
→ blakefriarr_: lasagna fucks tell her im omw
→ dawson1417: she made me let her drive but she would also like you to know that i'm coming and that she brought cookies
→ dougieham: bring some to picture day i want a cookie
load more comments..
#ebug’s sister series !#hockey imagine#nhl imagine#dawson mercer#dawson mercer x reader#new jersey devils
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Head in the clouds
Iceman x Reader
The past was supposed to stay in the past, but with Goose and Maverick getting into Top Gun, it would seem that it’s repeating itself. No matter what you do, you can never escape Tom Kazansky.
[Sequel] - To be updated
♡♡♡
Chapter One - Family bonds
Chapter Two - Top Gun is calling
Chapter Three - The best pilot
Chapter Four - Miramar
Chapter Five - Iceman
Chapter Six - Wingman
Chapter Seven - Volleyball
Chapter Eight - Blue eyed boy
Chapter Nine - Not a date
Chapter Ten - Heart of glass
Chapter Eleven - Calm before the storm
Chapter Twelve - The day time stopped
Chapter Thirteen - Hand to hold
Chapter Fourteen - Maverick
Chapter Fifteen - Talk to me
Chapter Sixteen - Ice is nice
Chapter Seventeen - Graduation day
Chapter Eighteen - The mission
Chapter Nineteen - Class of '86
Epilogue
♡♡♡
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you're on your own, kid | e.m - part twelve
eddie munson x singlemom!reader
summary: set after the events of season four, Steve has disappeared and is presumed dead in the upside down. broken and now left to deal with your pregnancy alone, Eddie takes it upon himself to support you to the best of his abilities in Steve’s absence.
chapter summary: as your relationship with eddie blossoms, the weight of truth reaches it's breaking point.
content warnings: fem!reader, adult language, adult themes, unplanned pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort, some canon divergence/au, mentions of death, reader is 20, anxiety, heavy angst, fluff, no use of y/n, slow burn, brief mention of vomiting
word count: 10.8k+
a/n: some of this was inspired was inspired by the poem ‘i wish i were two dogs then i could play with me’ by anne carson. I apologise for the long absence, life has been crazy but I’m very proud of this chapter and I hope you enjoy! sorry in advance for the angst it’s about to get real. as always, shoutout to @dickfics69 for helping me xx
taglist: @lezzy-bennet @harrypotteranna23-blog @reidstea @sashaphantomhive @bexreadstoomuch @audhd-dragonaut @littlepotatobeansworld @ches-86 @tlclick73 @fckyeahlames @gnocchey @astrolockley @sidthedollface2 @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord @eddiesbabe95 @taintedcigs @harry-bowie-mercury @micheledawn1975
↳ one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven
Part Twelve: Lovely To Sit Between Comfort and Chaos
Who knew scanning video tape barcodes could be so fun? An inherently arduous task made tolerable thanks to the warming weather, every monotonous motion laced with sun-soaked dopamine. The stale interior of Family Video is washed in a stream of sunlight, the clear sky leaving no interruption for the desired warmth.
The chill of winter has all but dissolved, the new season budding in blossoms dancing in lush trees and children without jackets in the park. But, beneath the surface, something more has begun mingling in your blood. Your veins are laced with the giddy joy of a new beginning, something fresh and exciting. Like the first pages of a good book, popping open a fresh bottle of wine. As with all beginnings, they have their own tonality, an addictive vibrancy that makes them so elusively special. Ebbing with firsts, ‘what ifs’ and unadulterated hope. Leaving you behind the store counter with a schoolgirl grin, completing the most mundane of tasks with enthusiasm. With every video returned into the system, another mountain forms as Robin returns to the front desk. She picks up the two latest additions from the pile, examining them with scrutiny.
“Woof. 9 ½ Weeks AND Body Heat? Someone had a big weekend.��� She places them onto the steel rolling shelves, beginning to categorize the sections. Monotonous doesn’t even begin to describe the store’s activities, Robin falling especially victim to their dullness today. “Speaking of, did you get up to anything interesting?”
“Well, Audrey’s learnt how to chuck her bottles across the room. So I guess you could say things were pretty wild around my neck of the woods.”
“Guess I’ll cancel her pee-wee baseball lessons then.” She quips back, busying herself with the tapes.
It’s a funny thing, dishonesty. How it sits on the roof of your stomach, digging its heels into your gut whenever it sees fit. You’ve elected not to tell Robin about your date with Eddie, nor your second kiss, for a myriad of reasons. As your closest friend, you understand that she is just looking out for you, protecting your vulnerable heartspace. With your connection to Eddie growing, complication is bound to follow. And in such a budding stage, it just doesn’t make sense to make a mountain out of a molehill.
When you’d first approached her about your potential date with Andy, she’d responded in a similar manner, driven by protectiveness. But you knew, she could see an innate craving for something more than she could provide. It was only natural. Your new identity was tied to being a mother, full stop. It had been a long time since you felt wanted, attractive, desired. A longing to be wined and dined, treated like so much more than milk-providing breasts on legs. And she wanted you to get back out there, into the real world and away from your comfortable nest of motherhood. You are strong, Robin is well aware of this, fighting the urge to protect you and Audrey from the big bad world. Of course, hindsight is a funny thing, and she should have ripped Andy a new one before he had the chance to do anything stupid. To assume he was capable of being a decent human being for an evening was clearly expecting too much.
But with Eddie, it’s so different. Comfortable in ways you couldn’t articulate, you felt a sense of consistent safety you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Life has just become easier with him around, day to day tasks much more enjoyable in his company. And so, you’ve resolved to just dip your toes into the idea of it evolving into something more. It’s not so much lying as it is withholding the truth.
With the final tape scanned in, you toss it onto the shelf, nearly bowling over Robin’s efforts in the process. She shoots you a warning glare before sighing, glancing melancholically at the clock.
“Ah, all that stands between me and a turkey sandwich is…” She picks up a video at random and glances down at it. “... Xanadu?! Oh my god-”
She drives the cart around the corner, cussing out the poor customer's choice in film. Smiling at her antics, you busy yourself tidying the cluttered desk. Taped to the monitor is a curated collection of film pictures Robin had Jonathan develop. The ultrasound photo still sits in prime position, with a copy of the hospital image below it. Another picture is tacked to the corner of the screen showing you and Robin cuddled up in bed with Audrey sandwiched between you, all in accidentally coordinating shades of blue. You remember that night, Eddie had dropped by after work and lost it laughing at the three of you perched in bed like the grandparents in Willy Wonka, quickly racing to the kitchen to retrieve Jonathan’s camera. Moments immortalized in stillness, energetic happiness radiating out of them.
So lost in the memory, you barely register the sound of the bell above the front door ringing.
“Late return charges got you grinning like that, sweetheart?” Averting your gaze, you watch as your babysitter of choice enters the store. Eddie shoots you a warm smile, one hand gently supporting the black carrier strapped to his chest. Audrey, pacifier in mouth, faces outwards with limbs dangling aimlessly in the confines of the holder. It’s hard to miss the small purple bow clipped to the crown of her head, something that was not part of her ensemble when you dressed her this morning. Like maneuvering his own personal puppet, Eddie picks up her limp wrist to wave it in your direction. The docile baby glances up at the metalhead with curiosity, seeking out the phantom manipulating her arm.
“I can’t rent you R-rated films with a minor present, I’m afraid.” You quip with a smile, pressing your palms into the counter.
“Shit.” Eddie points to the door, backtracking a step and glancing down at Audrey. “Let me just go and tie her up out front real quick, alright?”
“Please don’t tie my daughter up on the street like a dog.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about her.” Eddie grins. “But maybe we should lock in that date before we break out the ropes and collars, hm?”
His comment immediately causes your cheeks to flush, suddenly feeling stifled in your sickly green vest. Images of compromising positions flood your mind, notably featuring the handcuffs strung up in Eddie’s bedroom. An awkward chuckle escapes your throat, Eddie’s smile faltering at the sight.
“I- I mean… fuck, oh-” His hands quickly fly to Audrey’s ears, protecting her from his cursing. “- just, pretend I never said that, okay?”
“Not a chance. You’re never living that one down, Munson.” Your melodious laughter sets Eddie free. “Where’ve you two been today?”
“Y’know, just all of her favorite places. Had to head into the shop to pick up my paycheck, the guys couldn’t get enough of her. ‘Specially Bob, or Ed, I forget- he’s been going on about her for weeks so I thought if she visited he might shut up about it.”
“Using my daughter as bait? Classy.”
“You know me all too well, sweetheart.” He’s quick to catch the pacifier as it tumbles out of Audrey’s mouth, her face screwing up in disgust while he tries to feed it back to her. “Oh, and she met a dog today. It was a beast of a thing, a Rottweiler or something. Don’t think I’ve ever seen her so excited, she grabbed its ears and everything. Thought it might bite her head off. It did lick her on the face though, but I suppose that’s good for her immune system.”
“Sounds like you two have been on quite an adventure.” With Audrey now within arms reach, you lean over the counter to give her a kiss on the forehead. Her eyes light up at the sight of you, giving Eddie enough time to quickly shove the pacifier back into her mouth.
“Speaking of which… what are the chances of you getting work off this Friday afternoon?” His voice is hushed, and laced with an edge of the cheekiness you’ve come to adore. With a quick survey around the shop, you inspect to make sure Robin is out of earshot.
“I think I could pull some strings.”
“Good, good. I might have something fun planned for us.” Eddie smiles sheepishly, readjusting the weight of the carrier. “And, as much as I hate to admit it, I think Henderson might finally be ready to go solo with Squid.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, I mean- I didn’t see anyone chewing on the electrical cords so that’s an A in my books.”
“Glad to see you’ve got high standards.” You tease, the grin on Eddie’s face only growing..
“I sure do.”
-
Quick question, what the hell does one wear on a date? For your outing with Andy, Robin took charge of your wardrobe and crafted an outfit with complete ease. The stakes were lower, you suppose, not overly concerned with your appearance. But for today’s mystery date with Eddie, you’re finding yourself digging into the deepest crevices of your wardrobe for something that screams I’m trying, but not too hard. And, as fate would have it, nothing is jumping out at you. That shirt? Too old. These pants? Don’t fit anymore. Those socks? They’re Audrey’s, not sure how they got in here…
Huffing, you plant yourself on the floor in a nest of unacceptable garments. Your daughter sits peacefully in her bouncing recliner, gaze contently following your every move while she gums at her caterpillars antennae. Grabbing two half decent short-sleeve tops, you hold them up in the baby’s direction.
“What do you think, little miss?” Audrey continues her chomping assault, not at all interested in your predicament. You sigh, tossing the shirts into the pile of mediocrity. “God, it’s easy for you. You look cute in everything.”
Articulating your last word with a tickle, you drink in the way her mouth spreads into a toothless smile. She’s really beginning to grow into her own looks, her features forming beyond the universal blob baby look. Her hair is getting a slight wave to it, still comedically thick on her head. Pouty lips combined with her chubby cheeks give her maximum squishability factor. And as you look down at the mess of clothes covering the floor, you can’t help but cast your mind 16 years into the future. Rummaging through your daughter’s wardrobe in search of the perfect first date outfit, taking her to the mall just outside of town hunting down the dreamiest of prom dresses. It’s all racing by before your eyes. A spiral begins to form if you think about it for too long, so you quickly dedicate yourself to the task at hand.
In the end, you decide to keep it simple. A boxy button-up paired with some acid-wash mom jeans and a leather belt. Your hair is on its last legs before wash-day, so you elect to tame it with a bandana wrapped at the nape of your neck to hide the greasy mess. And Converse to complete the ensemble, because, you know, you don’t have all day. Your babysitter will be here any minute.
Dustin is smilier than usual, if that’s even possible. Grinning from ear to ear, watching you dart across the room with his hands on his hips. Making no effort to help you find your keys, but rather engaged watching your one-man Monty Python sketch.
“All ready for your big date?” The teenager articulates the last word with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. It stops you in your tracks, shooting daggers his way and doing little to wipe his smile away.
“For the last time, it’s not a date!” You lie through your teeth back to him. “I told you, we’re just going to hang out as friends. Adult friends. You know, without the presence of a baby.”
“Sure, sure. So, you got all glammed up for nothing?”
“Oh my god, I am not glammed up!” Glancing down at your outfit, you subtly worry that you may come off as trying too hard.
“I’m just saying…” Dustin throws his hands up defensively, the traces of a smile still playing on the corner of his mouth. “... you do look really nice, though.”
A humble grin makes itself known, abandoning your fruitless search to cross over to the younger boy. With figures like Steve and Eddie in his life, it’s easy to see where Dustin gets his chivalrous manners from.
“Aw, thanks, Dusty.” Flinging your arms around his shoulders, you pull him in for a tight squeeze with the explicit purpose of embarrassing him. The teenager relents quickly, giving your back a firm pat as you hold him to you in a vice grip. Giggling at the way he squirms in your arms, you take a few wobbly steps to keep him locked into place.
Burrowing your face into his mess of curls, you allow yourself to indulge in the comfort of his embrace. He’s always been a cuddly kid, and perhaps you weren’t aware of how much you needed this until now. The pair of you stand there for a beat, allowing the moment to morph from playful teasing into genuine support. Two kids, sharing a history of pain, guilt and loss. Finding solace in one another, the older enveloping the younger and soothing whatever lingering ache burns beneath their collective sorrow. He misses Steve. God, how he misses him.
It seeps through the pores of his fingertips, gently caressing your spine in small circles. As if, if you were to listen closely, beyond the dull hum of the refrigerator and the scattered bird calls outside, you could hear it. The tiniest voice, buried beneath unkempt curls, asking will it ever go away? And you both know the answer. It won’t, but you’ll learn to live with it. Together.
Biting back the swell of tears wetting your tongue, threatening to make themselves known, you refuse to crumble before him. Not today. Not on a day as happy as this.
If it’s true that Eddie has little experience with dating, he sure as hell masks it well. With a handful of daisies clutched in his fist, he’s the epitome of confidence as he raps on your door three times. Claiming the flowers were for Audrey (and definitely not for you), he quickly shuts down Dustin’s insinuations before shuttling you out the front door to his chariot. He always opens the door for you, but the small gesture makes you giddy with girlish excitement. And as soon as he joins you in the dingy interior, positive the pair of you are out of Dustin’s prying eyeline, he leans over the center console to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. The brief contact causes your heart to skip, chapped lips meeting soft skin so casually it’s disarming. A calloused thumb brushing your chin, edging your face in the direction of him, drinking in every imperfection dancing across your skin in the fading afternoon light. Noses lingering inches from one another, wrinkles forming at the edges of his eyes preceding a Cheshire-cat grin.
“Ready for our next adventure?”
With a nod, clicking the gears into drive, the van rolls out of the sun-bathed trailer park and onto the winding roads out of town. It’s easy, the silence that exists between you while you tune out to the sound of whatever metal cassette is shoved into the car’s stereo. Pulling further and further out of the small town, away from the noise. The bustle of life, the judgemental whispers. To some unknown destination, where the two of you will be free to just be.
It comes into view around half an hour into the drive, sticking out like a sore thumb against the lush forest surrounding you. A kitschy, neglected sign with what appears to be a beaver toothily smiling down at you, waving its unoiled, mechanical arm at passers-by. Silly Putter Mini Golf. Pulling into the tiny parking lot, you study the loud canary yellow clubhouse building while Eddie clambours out of the driver’s side. It’s totally cheesy, down to the pathetically flickering lightbulb on the welcome sign. And you couldn’t love it more.
Swinging the passenger side door open, your date extends his ringed hand outward.
“Ready to get your putt on?”
With utmost ease, Eddie sinks the ball on his second shot. You could be mad at his seemingly god-given talent, but it’s hard to stay upset watching his hips sway like that in those dark jeans. Even at a children’s putt-putt course, he’s shown no interest in dressing more family friendly. Under your breath, you mutter praise to the inventor of muscle tank tops, now privy to the way his sinewy muscles flex with each stroke of the golf club. Occasionally, the handle of the club would clink against his wallet chain draped out of his pocket, drawing your attention back to his narrow hips. As far as you were concerned, you were a winner tonight, regardless of the scores.
“Yes! Gotta catch up, sweetheart. I’m beating you by…” He pulls the small scorecard out of his back pocket and grins. “... five points.”
Shooting a distrusting look in his direction, you pace to meet him on the prickly astroturf.
“What?! I thought you said it was three?”
Snatching the page away, Eddie holds it tauntingly above your head. He swings it around like a kite, mocking your stature while the only other family here passes by you with milkshakes in hand.
“That was before you hit the windmill twice on the last hole. Bit embarrassing, if you ask me.” He pokes, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. “Tell you what. You make this in less than two shots, I’ll call it even. Even throw in some fries afterwards, as a sign of good showmanship.”
A competitive energy charges through your body, a daring smirk playing on your face. Through your lashes, you challenge the metalhead’s smug demeanor, flirting with the notion of friendly competition.
“Deal.”
With a newly confident stride, you make your way to the fluorescent pink tee you’d picked out for yourself, placing the equally obnoxious green ball atop it. It’s a fairly easy set up, two small hills creating a valley that would lead you straight to the hole. A mechanical crocodile snaps out of the wall sporadically, directly in line to your goal, hinges chomping at nothing. You assume the stance, needing to bend over slightly to accommodate the child-sized putter you were gripping. The crocodile seems to be popping out every five seconds, and so you brace yourself until it begins its certain retreat. Drawing your putter back, you hear it click against the ball, knowing immediately you overshot it. The ball rolls over one of the bumps in the turf, into a direct line with the crocodiles elongated snout, sending it back in your direction with a pathetic tumble.
“Shit.” You groan, attempting to tune out the smug laughter behind you. A tattooed arm comes into view over your left shoulder, pointing to the red flag sticking out of the ground.
“The holes over there, sweetheart.” Eddie quips matter-of-factly.
“Gee, thanks. What would I do without you?” Shooting daggers at your entirely too-smug date, you elbow him in the ribs before setting off in the direction of the ball. It seems your jab did little to quell Eddie’s laughter, who quickly catches up to you.
“Think you need to work on your form.”
“There’s a form needed for mini-golf?”
“Mhm, form I possess by the bucketful.” God, he’s a smug little shit sometimes.
Incredulous, you welcome his challenge with wide-open arms. “Alright then, genius. Enlighten me. Show me how it's done.”
Eyebrows disappearing into his messy bangs, Eddie’s doe eyes twinkle with boyish mischief, a prominent dimple playing deep into his cheek.
“Here.” Placing his hands on your shoulders, he maneuvers you in the direction of your goal, now partially obstructed by the protruding crocodile snout. “Line ‘er up.”
He angles himself around you, back pressed to abdomen, warmth emanating from the thin cotton of his shirt against yours. His feet shuffle to either side of yours, boxing you into his cradling hold. Snaking his bare arms along yours, starting at your elbow, each finger wrapping gently around the girth of your forearm. He lingers a moment too long, you don’t complain. Slowly working his way down to your wrists, locking his digits around the boney flesh. Breath on the nape of your neck, adrenaline pumping too fast for you to look anywhere but the lime-green golf ball at your feet.
“That’s it…” His chest rumbles against your ribcage, coaxing vibrations of praise causing your fingertips to go numb. “Nice and gentle, okay?”
One slow nod is all you manage, feeling his gaze burning into your profile. You watch as the rusting reptile makes itself known against the fake grass, gaping jaws ready to foil your next putt. As it begins its retreat, you take a deep inhale, feeling your ribs expand against the comfort of Eddie’s sternum.
“Go.” Barely a whisper is required, his lips so close to your ear you can practically feel their plush sanctuary. In tandem, Eddie gently pulls your wrists sideways before encouraging you forward with perfect momentum. Metal meets plastic with a firm thud, propelling the ball forward. It rolls, and a collective breath is held. As if the future of the world hinges on this single stroke. Picking up sand and debris along the way, the bright sphere travels across the turf towards its goal. It hits the lip of the hole before tumbling in with a clatter, sending your arms skyward in celebration as you discard the putter.
“Yes!” Gleaming with joy, you spin on your heels to press a firm finger into Eddie’s chest. “In your smug, stupid face, Muns-”
Victory is swiftly cut short as an arm wraps around your hip, grip settling in the groove of your waist. You slot perfectly into the crook of his lean body, softness meeting strength entirely channeled into closing the gap between you. The sheer momentum of it knocks a sigh loose from your chest, clinging to the anchor of his chest with bunched fists entangled in his shirt. His free hand nestles beneath your chin, a firm thumb pressing and guiding your eyeline up to his. Eddie shines with pride. Smiling from ear to ear, shaking his head at your antics with pure amusement, feeling the contagion of your joy.
Angling your chin slightly higher, Eddie presses his lips down onto yours with fervor. A blend of your two previous encounters, it’s passionate yet careful, a marriage of wanton desire and delicate care. You lean into it, drawing him closer by the cloth adorning his torso, chasing the taste of his kiss. As if to commit it to memory, to learn how it sits in your mouth and if the needy aftertaste ever dissipates. Muscles not just for decoration, but with the greater use of keeping you pressed intimately to his body. His thumb brushes against the groove of your jawline, dancing across the expanse of skin he is yet to be acquainted with. But there will be time for that later. Eddie is the one to pull away, a proud grin still plastered on his face.
“Good job, sweetheart. Ready for your prize?”
Food always tastes better when someone else is paying for it. The fries have the perfect crunch to them, the outer a golden brown against the fluffy white potato now filling your mouth rapidly. Eddie claims that they only came in a package deal with two cans of soda, but you have an inkling he may be lying about that. Your date watches as you shove the greasy food into your mouth, taking a long sip of his Coke.
“Looks like you’re enjoying your winnings over there.”
“Mmm-“ You mumble through a mouthful of starch. “Feels like there’s a birthday party in my mouth.”
Eddie’s brows furrow with amusement at your choice of words, shaking his mane of curls.
“Shit, actually, there’s something I don’t know about you. When is your birthday?”
Swallowing the thick mass of carbs, you slyly redirect your gaze to the quickly-emptying plastic basket before you, picking at a few deep-fried crumbs.
“Next week…” You pray to the heavens your admission was mumbled low enough for Eddie to catch it as some ambiguous month in the distant future. But it seems the years of heavy metal assaulting his ear drums has done little to subdue his sense of hearing.
“Next week?!” Theatrically, Eddie slams his soda down on the picnic table, likely taking off some of the tragic peeling paint in the process. He looks positively incredulous, brows raised to maximum height behind his bangs. “And you’ve been keeping this a secret, why?”
“I wasn’t keeping it a secret! I just didn’t think it was that big of a deal-“
“Not that big of a-“ Fingers splayed on the periwinkle blue wood, he braces himself forward with a deep inhale. “Sweetheart, now I’m gonna have to plan a big bash in less than a week. How could you do this to me?”
As if it’s the biggest inconvenience he’s ever encountered. Chuckling nervously, you wave your hands in a flurry before his deadpan expression.
“Oh no, absolutely not. Uh-uh, not happening.”
“But-”
“Eddie.” Your tone is firm, gaze boring into his. “I’m turning twenty, it’s not even an exciting number. Plus, I have a baby, in case you forgot. Not sure how many nightclubs would let the pair of us in. If it means that much to you, I’ll have you and some of the kids over for a movie. That’s my limit, though.”
Eddie huffs, resolving himself to defeat. “Fine. No strippers, then.”
“Oh, now that you mention strippers…” A grin takes over your face as you waggle a fry in his face, likely sending salt fragments onto Eddie’s shirt. Before you can bring it to your awaiting mouth, he swats the perfectly good fast food out of your hand, sending it catapulting to the ground for some poor, underpaid teenager to clean up later.
“Party in your mouth, huh?” He quips, stealing the larger of the two potato sticks stuck to the paper lining the basket. He pops it into his mouth with a grin, shooting you a suggestive look.
“You’re the worst.”
“I know.”
The energy between the two of you is so, so easy. You sip your cool soda, indulging in the sugary carbonation clinging to your teeth. Eddie does the same, studying a terribly constructed pyramid situated on one of the holes. No pressure to speak, or not speak, just basking in the glow of one another’s company. The air is cool under the downlights, a mild spring evening setting the scene for what a true date night should look like.
“I’ve gotta ask-” You begin through a mouthful of food, somewhat unceremoniously. “- how’d you get so good at mini golf? I just wouldn’t expect you to be the kind of guy to spend his free time at a place like this.”
“Ooft, judging a book by its cover, are we?” Eddie places his drink back on the picnic table, grinning beneath the fluorescent snack bar sign.
“Oh, never. Heavy metal and putt-putt go hand in hand, as far as I’m concerned.”
Eddie shakes his head, grinning while he peers down at the condensation accumulating on the metal can.
“I, uh- I used to bring Dustin out here.”
“Dustin? Really?”
“Yep.” There’s a loaded silence between the pair of you, something that isn’t uncommon as you exchange stories of your past. “After, um- y’know, everything happened. He kind of… shut down. A bit like you did, for a while. Didn’t want to play DnD, or see anybody, really. So this one day, I just drove over to his place and dragged him out of bed saying ‘C’mon, butthead. I’m taking you outta town’. He kicked up a bit of a fuss, but I just sort of army-marched him out the front door. We drove around for a while, not really talking and stumbled on this place. He shot me that stupid grin of his for the first time in forever, so we came in. It sort of became a weekly thing after that, and I hate to admit that I actually enjoyed it after a while.”
Swirling a fry around in too much ketchup, your meal is all but forgotten as you find yourself enthralled by Eddie’s recollection. That all too familiar pang of sadness returns, regret manifesting quickly in your body. You wish you were there for Dustin. You should have been. You wish you were stronger earlier, able to provide him with the care he so desperately needed. In the past few months, you’ve watched the teenager really step up, busying himself with baby books in order to be the best ‘uncle’ he could be. He’s a close second behind Eddie when it comes to making Audrey smile, lapping up every second he gets with her. God, Steve would be so proud of him.
“He’s a good kid, even if he’s an annoying little shit sometimes. And Steve…” His thought trails off, running his finger around the edge of the soda can. “... Steve was good for him. Gave him someone to look up to, a role model sort-of. Almost like a big brother, I guess. So I didn’t mind running around a shitty mini-golf course with a creepy beaver sign if it made him happy.”
Abandoning your meal, you reach across the table to take Eddie’s hand in yours. The tips of his fingers are cold from the refrigerated beverage, and you wrap your palm around the icy skin with warm reassurance.
“You’re a good man, Eddie.”
Eddie’s lips curve into the most imperceptible smile, humble and felt almost entirely inward. For a fleeting second, he wonders if that could be true.
Eddie was meant to drive you straight home. The roads were quiet at this time of night, no traffic bar the occasional truck making its way in the opposite direction of the small town he unfortunately called home. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this full. Not literally, of course, given you guzzled down the majority of hot food before he had a chance to get to it. But it didn’t matter, not the slightest.
He felt proud.
Proud while he watched you dig through the bucket of tees, looking for the perfect Barbie pink one that wasn’t chipped or dirty. Proud of his excellent golfing form, thankful for all the practice he’d gotten through restless evenings with Henderson. Proud of the way you jumped up and down, hands raised to the heavens as you sank your shot in half the time it had taken you on every other hole. Proud of how he scooped you into his arms, like every cheesy rom-com he’d had the displeasure of watching. Proud of the part he had to play in your happiness. Proud to be seen with you.
He was meant to drive you straight home.
He had every intention of doing so.
Satiated with pride, he could resolve to spend the remainder of his evening grinning stupidly to himself in the isolation of his room. The humble home across the trailer park suddenly feels closer, anyway. Until, your hand snaked its way across the center console onto his thigh, your touch feather light but the weight heavy. For a brief moment, he wonders if you reached for something but overshot, a simple mistake. And then, you linger. Fingernails scratching the course denim clinging to his legs, shockwaves sent down his skin with every delicate stroke. Absent-minded. Loaded.
He knew the stakes had just been raised.
The two of you had been close like this dozens of times before, particularly in your pregnancy. Eddie never saw the need for one of those pregnancy pillows advertised on late-night infomercials, when you apparently saw him as the perfect substitute. Back then, those exchanges meant almost nothing. A tiny back scratch here and there, drawing small circles on your forearm while you dozed off with your entire body weight pressed to his shoulder. Thoughtless interactions, designed purely to comfort and set you at ease. The familiarity that has perhaps always existed between the pair of you, now morphing into something new.
Thumb smoothing the faded-black material, tiny rotations etched over and over.
Hypnotic.
The bravery that overtook him was phantom, ghostly desire edging his knee ever so slightly further in your direction. As if to say please, don’t stop. I’m right here. His eyes remain firmly locked onto the dark road, using only the occasional streetlight to guide his path. Besides, he doesn’t need to look at you to feel your gaze on his cheek. Not that he could bring himself to, if he tried. He wonders if he blacked out earlier. Got hit in the head with a rogue club and passed out, ascending to a heaven in which he would be fortunate enough to experience such a sensation. Heart pounding in his chest, he lets out an unsteady exhale as your fingers snake deeper into the groove, caressing at more sensitive flesh. Inward, where the skin is far more sensitive.
Eddie isn’t a greedy man.
Until he is.
“Baby…” The foreign pet name slips out as a moan, barely perceivable beneath the soft hum of the cassette’s tune filling the car at a low volume. Somehow, in those two syllables alone, he crosses a line. Bares his soul to the wolves, knowing well the potential ramifications, the bloodshed that follows vulnerability.
The digging of your fingernails into the meaty flesh at his utterance is his breaking point. The green light he sought out. With cautious fervourency, he pulls off the road quickly, wheels clattering along the asphalt excuse for a truck stop. The car is quickly clicked into park before the metalhead can cognise it, tearing the constricting seatbelt off his body. Your hand never leaves its spot.
Turning to you, wide-eyed with want, he pauses. Gives himself whiplash from the flurry of activity leading to the sudden stillness. It’s intrinsic, no need for words anymore. Redundant wastes of breath.
His lungs hitch, adrenaline pulsing in the tips of his fingers.
Can we?
Lips parted ever so slightly, a rise of your chest and dazed fluttering of eyelids answers.
Yes.
It’s not clear who lunges first. What is clear is how your bodies instinctively shape around one another, quick to absolve the space between you. Lips collide with lips, desperately seeking respite. Wanton moans are pulled effortlessly, fistfuls of hair tangled in clammy fingers drawing the two of you impossibly close. Imperfect fumblings as shirts are clutched desperately, fueling the fire burning in the pits of Eddie’s stomach. The pace is entirely unsteady, soft brushes bleeding into firm tugs of teeth piercing tender flesh with just the right amount of force. Embarrassing, unadulterated need at the forefront of every motion, and neither of you cared. God, it’s almost perverse. How Eddie corrupts something so soft, so sweet, with every fevered kiss. Like he’s tainting you with his taste, as if he could lap enough of you up and absolve his unworthiness. The likelihood of that working is slim, but god damn Eddie is willing to try.
It’s still not enough.
The plastic console separating you is driving him mad. He needs to be able to grab, clutch, caress every square inch of you with no obstructions. You make him bold.
Bold enough to slip his wandering hand beneath your far thigh, the smallest hithering motion enough to feel the weight shift above his palm. Unceremoniously, you clamber over the glove box after unclipping your seatbelt, haphazardly swinging your foot into the horn. The beep echoes through the isolated rest stop, a mumbled apology being quickly swallowed by Eddie’s lips. Blindly guided, he directs your knees to either side of his hips, showing no qualms with the limited driver’s side legroom. His hands find your hips, tentatively hovering above his lap, shaky thighs taking the brunt of your weight. With small, caressing circles of your hip bone, he soothes you as he always has. Encourages you to share the pressure, begging to be the bearer of it. No wrong answer, only whatever you’re comfortable with. Perfect the way you are.
Ringed fingers press gently into the small of your waist, drawing you closer still to his body. This seems to encourage you to relent to your tiring muscles, finding solace on Eddie’s tense thighs. A safe distance, but so close to danger. To unbridled want. Neither of you care.
Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as you speckle kisses along his cheek, dancing down his jawline and finding sanctuary on his neck. Nipping slightly at his pulse point, he can’t help but squeeze a bit tighter. Relishing in your exploration, mentally mumbling Hail Mary’s for his good deeds from past lives that lead him to this euphoria. A gasp escapes his throat as you latch onto a particularly sensitive spot, causing his hands to seek refuge on the meat of your hips. He squeezes, eliciting a similar wanton moan that vibrates against his stubbled skin.
“Is- is this good?” A sentence loaded with various meanings tumbles out, his grip loosening slightly.
“Mmm.” You murmur, tracing the familiar trail back along his jaw and to his aching lips. “So good. So good to me, always.”
A knot forms in the pit of Eddie’s stomach. So good. So good. For you. That’s all he’s ever wanted to be. It fucking underscores every day, trying to do right by you. Constantly trying. He lives for it. For the smiles, the exhales of safety, the reassurance, the comfort…
It’s gotten him more hooked than a drug ever could.
So why.
Why can’t he accept it?
The praise, the love, everything you dish out effortlessly. But to want and to deserve are very different things, the latter being something that Eddie factually knows he is not entitled to.
It returns, a tidal wave of despair crashing over his heart, encasing it in a riptide of emotional debris and darkness. The taunting ticking of the second hand that haunts him constantly, the grip on his happiness slipping…
“Hey.” He gasps out, ringed fingers grazing your cheek as he pulls away. So close still he can see the flushed-red outline of your lips, the blissed out expression in your eyes quickly morphing to concern.
“Shit, you okay?” You pull back, brushing a loose curl out of the frame of his face.
“Yeah, ‘m fine.” A stabilizing breath does little to quell the erratic beating of his heart. “Just- maybe we should, like, take things a bit slower? I- I just don’t want all this to be too much, too fast.”
Brows furrowing slightly, it’s hard to miss the minute disappointment reflected across your face.
“Oh. No, yeah, of course.” Letting out an awkward chuckle, your unoccupied hands take to fidgeting with your now-loose blouse. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get carried away…”
“No, no-” Eddie reassures, a smile growing on his sore lips despite the gnawing ache in his chest. “Fuck, you were- it was perfect.”
A bashful grin cuts through the nerves etched into your skin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” God, you make him too bold. Cradling your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he dips forward to steal another miss from you. “Just want to do things right. Be a gentleman and all that.”
“You? A gentleman? Since when?” You poke.
“Since always.” The tone returns to easy as always, if not charged with a certain afterglow of electricity.
“So, what’s the next step in the courting ritual then?”
“Dunno. Guess I’ll have to pull off a grand gesture of some kind.”
Thursday afternoon, counting down the minutes until the clock strikes 5pm and frees you from this grind. Happy fucking birthday to you.
Robin has been fussing over you non-stop for the past 24 hours. Apparently, a little birdie told her about your upcoming birthday (something you’d diligently kept private), sending her into a frenzy. She insisted on at least taking you out for dinner to celebrate your birthday at Benny’s, and practically stuffed her version of appropriate birthday attire into a duffle bag this morning for you to change into post-shift. In all her festive glory, she returned from her lunch break with a pink-frosting covered cupcake and tried to involve no less than three customers in a group rendition of Happy Birthday that was less than successful. And despite the unwarranted theatrics, you can’t deny your gratitude. Seeing how she dotes on you, dedicating her every movement that day to your happiness. And frankly, it’s not dissimilar to every other day. The love, the care that the two of you feel for eachother simply heightened for your first day of your twenties. Luck has never been a word you’d use to describe your life, but today, it feels fitting.
Keith has been goaded into closing the shop up solo tonight, Robin sparing no detail of the utmost importance to this diner dinner. She’d also arranged for Eddie to bring Audrey along, clocking in around 12 total hours of unpaid babysitting and a bushel of brownie points. Then, once the grown-ups have hung out, some of the younger kids will bike to the trailer park for a late-night movie. Spending the remaining hours of your birthday with everyone you love.
The small bathroom cubicle adjoining the workroom is cluttered with makeup and clothes, the two of you primping yourself in privacy. Tonight’s outfit of choice appears to be a band tee, tied at the waist with a flowing maxi-skirt, clashing in your mind but makes sense to Robin, apparently. To level the playing field, she dug out some of your nicer boots for the occasion. Internally, you worry for Audrey, and how it’ll be once Robin realizes she has two life-sized Barbie dolls to dress up. But secretly, you like it. It feels very you, whatever that means now. Comfort meets expression, an identity crafted beyond Mom.
Smiling at yourself through the rusty bathroom mirror, Robin swipes on her mascara.
“How do you feel? Older and wiser yet?” Robin asks, eyes bugged out in concentration.
“More of the former, I’d say.” You chuckle.
“What about the outfit? I felt pretty proud of it, very rocker-chic meets fairy princess.”
“It’s great, Rob. All of it.” Lips pursing together in an emotional smile, you drink in the image before you. You look your age. No dark circles or fine lines present, concealed under just the right amount of makeup. Hair just the way you like it, not confined to a three-day-old ponytail. You recognise her, from another life. The girl you used to be. And she’s so happy to see you.
Robin shoves the mascara tube into her tote bag, throwing it over her shoulder. “Ready to hit the road?”
With a nod, you hold the door open for her, the imposing fluorescents of the video store coming back into view.
“Oh, nearly forgot. We’ve gotta make a pit stop along the way, if that’s alright with you?” Following her trail, the two of you burst out the front doors and into the brisk evening towards your Pinto.
“Sure.” You reply. “Just lead the way.”
“Robin, where the hell are we?” Glancing around one of the seedier streets of Hawkins, you shrug your handbag a little closer under your armpit and remind yourself that you did, in fact, lock your car. It’s fairly innocuous, an assortment of goods shops and a vintage record store, but you’ve never ventured this far into the heartland. Robin is a few paces before you, studying the signs of various closed businesses along the road. Her face lights up as you approach one particular building.
“Bada-boom.” She announces with a proud grin, stopping in front of a large, black building. The paint is sun-faded, lined with scratched-off band posters graffitied with lewd scribbles. Against the dark sky, your only indication of the name etched into the doorway awning comes in the form of a passing car blaring its lights.
“The Hideout?” It rang a bell, yet you could not work out for the life of you what the two of you were doing here. “Dude, is this a nightclub? It’s a Thursday!”
“Not exactly…” Her brazen smile makes you slightly nervous. “More of a live music venue. I’ve just gotta pick something up from here, then we’ll be off to dinner. ‘Kay?”
“Alright, maybe I’ll just wait outside-”
“No!” Robin quickly clears her throat. “I mean- I’m not leaving you out here on these mean street all alone without me to protect you.”
Shooting you a bright smile, you have to take at face value that she’s being entirely serious right now. Locking her arm through yours, she urges your unwilling feet further to the entrance.
“Is it even-” Answering your half-finished question, Robin pushes open the door to the venue, the interior pitch-black. “Are we even allowed to be here?”
“Yes, dingus! Just c’mon…” Once again, you’re placing literal blind faith into your closest friend. She might as well have tied Eddie’s bandana over your eyes as she did at Christmas, nothing but the slightly sticky floor beneath you to guide you forwards into oblivion. Her arm is your liferaft, swimming through pitch-black waters towards god knows what. In the distance, you hear a strange scuffling of feet, not belonging to either you or your co-worker. It sends chills down your spine, suddenly feeling very out of your depth. It’s disorienting, and totally alien.
“Seriously, Robin. Can we-” Your hushed tone is directed to the girl beside you, who stops in her tracks. You plant yourself beside her, the strangest feeling of being able to make a figure out through the void before you. A fleeting moment of movement, another shuffle of shoes on tacky wood ground.
And in the flash of an eye, brightness burns your retinas, momentarily blinding you. It forces you to squint, a desperate attempt to identify these unfamiliar surroundings. A spotlight of sorts bears down on you before Robin quickly releases you from her vice grip and jumps to the side. But as one sense is returned, another is quickly abused, a raucous sound brutalizing your eardrums.
“Surprise!” Numerous voices call out at the top of their voices, unable to be individually dissected amongst the barrage of confetti poppers bursting into the sky. As your eyes grow accustomed to the warm spotlights around the venue, you make out familiar shapes. A mess of scruffy curls buried beneath a baseball cap. Two young boys with arms slung around one another jumping up and down, perfectly manicured bangs flinging haphazardly. The flash of a camera you’d borrowed months ago. There’s only a few of them, but their energy fills the space tenfold.
And, at the center, you see a lean figure with a Kirk Hamlett haircut raise a squirming lump high above his head, not unlike a certain Disney movie that wouldn’t come out for another good eight or so years. Eddie, in what can only be described as his best cut-off band tee, proudly holds Audrey high above the group, her chunky legs bunched up to her body as she looks around entirely confused. As the last syllable of their celebration dies off, as if on cue, Audrey’s face screws up in a dramatic pout, a loud cry echoing through the venue at a volume the others only could hope to have achieved. Eddie’s face quickly transforms to worry, eyes squinting with embarrassment.
“Oh, fu-” Eddie quickly lowers her, cradling her head towards his collarbone. “Shit, didn’t mean to scare you, Squid.”
Shushing her and pacing a step towards you, he bounces your baby from side to side. Her cries begin to lull, her fist tucked tightly at his clavicle for emotional support. Likely giving his neck a few scratches from her razor-sharp fingernails, she clings to the neckline of his shirt like a spider monkey, pulling it down with a subdued whimper and revealing one of his tattoos.
“Eddie? What-” You’re stunned. Shell-shocked from the sudden onslaught of sensation and attention, closing the space between you and the metalhead.
“How’s this for a grand gesture?” Spinning on his heel, Dustin rushes over to present a frosting-covered monstrosity on the bar. The icing is baby pink, with large globs that could be letters on top, with a handful of mismatched candles shoved into the floury concoction.
“Ta-da!” The younger boy grins, fixing one of the especially lop-sided candles. “Sorry it’s nothing special, I didn’t have much time to work on it…”
“You- you threw me a birthday party?” You ask, wide-eyed to Eddie.
“Ah-” He raises a finger, readjusting the subdued baby in his arms. “A surprise birthday party. In case you missed the keyword over the little hellraiser's scene-stealing cry.”
That familiar feeling returns. Overwhelmed by love and eyes solely on you. A small pile of presents sits on one of the bar tables, along with a few cards. Far more modest than the endowment you received from the group months earlier. Smiling faces, slightly tentative as they attempt to interpret your expression. But that thumping in your chest is not from anxiety this time. It’s from an overflowing sense of gratitude.
A teary smile takes over your face, rushing to embrace Eddie and Audrey in a tight bear hug. The baby nestled between you burbles and squirms, and you raise your lips to the shell of Eddie’s ear to whisper a heartfelt “thank-you”.
The party is in full swing. Of the faces huddled in groups around the intimate venue, you initially only recognise half of them. Mike, Lucas and Will order root beer from the bar under Eddie’s strict supervision, not wanting any wasted minors on his track record. Dustin and Erica are engaged in a heated conversation with a few older boys, each of them wearing shirts printed with the name Corroded Coffin. You’d only crossed paths with them a handful of times at campaign nights, but they shared Eddie’s welcoming nature, trying to involve you in their conversation about elves or something. Nancy and Robin were trying to liven up the dance floor, which mostly involved Nancy swaying to the beat and Robin putting on a full-scale musical number around her. With Audrey not in the arms of any of her allocated babysitter’s arms, there was only one place left to search. Jonathan was taking a picture of the group in the adjacent booth, El and Max grinning either side of an unfamiliar face. His long, dark hair proved most entertaining for the infant on his lap, a glazed-over expression dancing in his red-rimmed eyes.
“Woah, woah! That’s not for playing with, little dudette. Try this instead, I know it keeps me entertained.” From his Hawaiian shirt pocket, he pulls out a small set of keys, passing them to Audrey’s greedy fingers. She squeals, flinging the keys up and down in delight.
“God, she’s so cute.” El gushes, smoothing her pint-sized overalls over her legs.
“I know, right. She looks so much like Steve, it’s insane.” Max affirms. “Alright, Argyle. Quit hogging her.”
The redhead scoops her hands around Audrey’s waist, bringing her up to eye level with a cooing expression.
“You know they’re born without kneecaps? How gnarly is that?” Argyle states, turning to El with complete sincerity.
“No way that’s true.” Max shoots the older boy a signature dead-pan look, readjusting Audrey in her arms, who is now getting a good amount of drool on the keychain.
“Swear on my life! I read it somewhere, they’re born without propellers.”
“You mean patellas?” El corrects.
“Yeah, that’s the one! Or maybe it’s dogs I’m thinking of…”
It’s beautiful, watching over your own party as a voyeur. An event that has brought together all of the closest people in your life, the common thread being you. It makes you sick with love.
“How’re you enjoying the event, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice reaches you before he does, a glass of tan-colored liquid in hand.
“It’s perfect, really.” You reply with a grin. “All that’s missing are the Jell-o shots.”
“Gonna treat us to another Flashdance number?” Cheeks flushing over his statement, you stammer a response.
“How- how did you…”
“Don’t think I’d forget a spectacle like that.” He winks, a devilish grin spread across his lips. “Livened up that night’s dealings, that’s for sure.”
It’s strange, remembering a time before this. A time when Eddie was just a face in the crowd, Steve the undisputed King of Hawkins, and you with no clue what the coming years held in store. It feels like a lifetime ago, and simultaneously feels like an eternity you’ve spent with this eclectic family by your side.
“Getting on the beers tonight, Munson?” You tap a nail against the edge of his glass teasingly.
“Nah, confiscated Henderson’s root beer for my own selfish purposes.”
“You’re not gonna have a celebratory drink with me tonight?” Eddie shakes his head.
“Don’t think so, sweetheart. Sounds a bit cliche, but I feel weird drinking around Squid. Just don’t want to be the kind of guy who does that around a baby, makes me feel like my dad or something.”
You swear your heart swells to three times its normal size. He might be the most considerate man you’ve ever met.
“Besides…” Eddie continues, pointing to the Hellfire boys. “... don’t want to be a mess on stage for the grand finale of the night.”
You gasp, mock excitement written all over your expression. “Strippers?!”
Eddie shakes his head with a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.
“Maybe later, if you ask nicely.”
He did it.
Eddie pulled it off. From the house-shaking rendition of Happy Birthday, to the (in his humble opinion) absolutely killer set courtesy of Corroded Coffin, to shuttling the younger kids home before the bar opened to the public. He fucking did it. He did good.
The dingy bar is now filled with the usual patrons, the bouncers not bothering to check the ID’s of the occupants inside who could pass for being over 21. Last he saw you, you were dancing arm in arm with Robin and Nancy, screaming Everybody Wants to Rule The World at the top of your lungs. He’d never seen you so free, so vibrant. Moving like no one was watching, twirling and laughing and holding your friends. Just as you deserved to be. A twenty-year-old for one night, before another 364 days devoted to being a mom.
The cool breeze is welcoming, soothing his warm skin under the clear night sky. Stars swimming in the endless expanse of night, delicate kisses of light kissing the pitch-black veil. He can breathe. It used to be suffocating, looking up at the infinite nothing. It would clog Eddie’s throat, choking him in bleak nothingness. Wrap him in a coat of terror, a black mirror designed to play back every fateful mistake of his miserable life. Now, it welcomes him. And he isn’t afraid to embrace it. Baby steps, learning to love the dark parts of his being.
In his arms, he rocks Squid back and forth gently. She’s long since dozed off, the burden of being the life of the party clearly hung too heavy on her tiny shoulders. On her ears sit the smallest fluffy earmuffs, an investment courtesy of Dustin just for tonight. She was the best little groupie he could have asked for. At one point, Robin brought her onstage and placed her feet on the ground, bopping her up and down to the music. The crowd roared, and she giggled and squealed like she was the headliner act. Might have shown the band up, honestly. Eddie didn’t mind.
He’s getting better at stealing moments with her. Giving into his need to dote on her unabashedly. He could stare at her for a lifetime, and that wouldn’t be enough. He needs to imprint in his mind the way her eyelids flutter when she sleeps, commit to memory the O-shape of her mouth when she lets out a sleepy yawn. He wants to record her laugh, keep it forever. He wants every waking second to be dedicated to her.
“Have a good night, Squid?” He mumbles, lightly stroking the bridge of her nose. “Not bad for your first party, eh? Just you wait until your birthday. All of this will look like child’s play.”
Squid wriggles restlessly, burrowing into Eddie’s chest. Against his sternum, he can feel the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath, the tiny grunts of sleep deep in her lungs. It makes him grin like a mad-man.
“Y’know, I’m gonna let you in on a secret.” He readjusts her carefully in his arms, hushing his tone slightly. “I think- I think you and your mom are the best things that have ever happened to me.”
His words hang heavy in the still air, the empty alleyway the only recipient to his confession.
“Can you believe I was scared of you? Of these tiny hands-” He tickles her palm with his pointer finger, the baby clasping around it instinctually with unbridled strength. “- and these little feet. God, I’m pretty stupid, aren’t I? You can tell me, I won’t be offended. But, I’ll tell you something, just between you and me. There are much scarier things out there. And I’m not talking about monsters or alternate dimensions, although I do promise to protect you from that, cross my heart.”
He raises his free hand to his heart, as if the sleeping infant would know any different.
“In this big, bad world, I think the scariest thing is to be alone. And I’m gonna make sure you never feel that way, if I can help it.”
Eddie is rambling, word vomit spilling past his lips faster than he can contain it. No scapegoat of weed or alcohol to blame his honesty on. He gently rocks Squid back and forth, the motion soothing both of them.
“Y’know, I know you’re not mine. But-” Teeth bite down on the inside of his cheek, fingers pulling down her overalls. “- I dunno, it kinda feels like you’re mine in my heart.”
With a deep exhale, Eddie allows his honesty to wash over him in all its brutal glory. Knee-buckingly raw, and he leans into it, for once. Allows the love to pump through his veins with every beat of his cynical heart, waking up parts of him he thought were gone for good. But the moment of solitude doesn’t last long before Robin comes barreling out of the back door, almost crashing into the nearby trash cans.
“Shit, sorry. Did I wake her?” She apologizes, sloshing her half-finished gin and tonic onto the pavement.
“Nah, you’re in luck. Squid’s out like a light.” He pulls out another milk crate, beckoning the tipsy liability over. “Having fun in there?”
“Yeah, yeah- I am.” It’s a half thought, words dancing on the tip of her tongue not ready to be spoken yet. “The kids get home alright?”
“Eventually, had to drag most of them out by the end. Henderson wanted to hide in the bathroom and then ‘blend in with the older crowd’.”
“Wonder where he learnt that one from.” Robin smiles, nudging the metalhead.
“Hey, don’t look at me. Wasn’t my doing, for once…”
“Mmm…” She replies, taking a swig of her mixed spirit. Staring down at the lime slice, she swishes the glass around as if deep in thought. Glazed eyes laced with melancholy, radiating off her being.
“Something on your mind?” Eddie asks, angling his body more in her direction.
Robin’s mouth screws up as if she’s tasted something bitter, unable to bring her gaze to meet the man before her. But he doesn’t need to look her in the eyes to see the tears swelling on her waterline, quivering with her next sentence.
“We have to tell her…” Her voice is barely louder than a whisper, suppressed anxiety trickling in with every syllable.
Eddie feels his blood run cold, the familiar pang of dread hanging low in his stomach. He shakes his head defiantly.
“Not tonight, Rob. Please…” The plea is firm, fraying at the edges. Not ready to face the inevitable.
“No, no. Not tonight, but it needs to be soon.”
“Can we please not do this right now?” Eddie doesn’t mean to be so forceful with his words, but fear is a powerful thing. It poisons his blood, pushed further through his system with every erratic beat of his heart.
Robin’s eyes continue to well up with stinging tears, her grip on the glass tightening. “The guilt is eating me alive, Eddie. I just… I don’t know how to do it.”
Eddie sighs, desperate to keep what little control he possesses.
“We need to do it the right way, got it? You, me, Henderson and her. We can all sit down and…” Robin runs her hand through her hair with exasperation at Eddie’s suggestion. Even the gentlest of options sounds like a monumental task. “Just give it a bit more time…”
“There is no more time!” She retorts, her volume loud enough for her to quickly glance down at the sleeping baby to make sure she didn’t wake her.
Eddie stands up, readjusting Squid in his arms. He’s doing his best to stay calm, and not let the inevitable spiral begin, a fruitless battle. “I’m not doing this right now, okay?”
The liquid courage is working wonders on Robin right now, standing up to face the metalhead eye-to-eye. “Don’t act like you don’t feel the same way, Eddie. You know as well as I do that she has a right to know.”
Eddie’s mouth is open and ready to voice another stern reply, when it’s interrupted by a meek voice behind him. The soft tone does little to soothe the ache growing in his abdomen, not daring to look over his shoulder at the source.
“I have a right to know what?”
Haze.
Disorder.
Stumbling your way through the overbearing smog flooding your consciousness. Gripping to the worn sofa in your living room like it’s a buoy, the only thing grounding you in painful reality.
It’s fragmented, the onslaught of new information cluttering your mind, unable to be sifted through logically.
Owens.
Lowering yourself to the ground, you’ve lost all faith in your legs to keep you upright. Sea legs giving out beneath you, collapsing under the weight of a burdened mind. You quickly put Audrey in her bassinet the second you arrived home, stepping back from her small body like she was made of fire. Delicate, precious, amidst the crumbling ruins of life.
Found.
No.
No, you need someone to cling onto. Polyester beneath your fingernails can never compare to flesh and blood, pumping with life and hope and comfort. Oh god. Craving arms, muscle and sinew engulfing your body, soothing and shushing like you’ve done with your baby countless times. Desperate for the luxury of kindness.
No one to dote.
No one to care.
No one to witness the mortifying pain of existence.
No one to observe the torment they cursed you with in the first place.
Steve.
Crawling up your throat like bile, burning your esophagus as hot lava. You’d welcome the respite of vomit, the substance of it, the satisfaction of exorcism. But no, the painful tar claws its way through your tract, bringing biting tears to your eyes. Hell manifesting in your being. Truth collapsing with a heavy hearted I’m so sorry, bouncing off the walls of the narrow alleyway while you retreated. Words spilling out helplessly from your loose tongue, rage of betrayal driving every consonant and syllable. To never see you again, let alone speak to you.
The loss of everyone, everyone. Robin, Dustin, Nancy, fuck- Eddie. They all knew. They coaxed you through the loss, never allowing for hope to breed. Lies built on mountains of lies, a shamble foundation of friendship. Arms that held your daughter with gentleness and altruism, seemingly all fabricated. Tainting her with every touch, every smile, tongues bleeding as they bit back the truth. Too numb to cry, to even indulge in the agony of feeling.
Beginnings are special, because most of them are fake. Artificial and man-made, entirely composed of brain chemistry and justifications. The person you become after your first glass of wine was already there, fretting below the surface of your facade, chipping away at the mask you present to the world. They never left.
You are at the end of beginning.
#dumbslxtclub#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#stranger things fic#dad!eddie#eddie x you#eddie munson x you#eddie x fem!reader#dad!eddie munson#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#singlemom!reader
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‘86 Baby!: Eddie Munson x Female Reader
It's Senior Year for Hawkins High School Class of '86. But while most are dealing with the pressure of finales, the threat of the Upside Down looms over you and your friends. But an old friend is soon pulled into the darkness, and all you hope to do is save him while pushing away old feelings.
A Stranger Things 4 ReWrite
story warning: dark themes like; death, blood, violence, descriptions of dead bodies + other Stranger Things related warnings. themes: fluff, angst w/ smut
Friends to Enemies to Lovers // Cheerleader!Reader
artwork by @dobrienwrites
Chapter One: Pom-Poms
Chapter Two: Promise?
Chapter Three: I've Got You
Chapter Four: Sleep-Over
Chapter Five: Smooth
Chapter Six: Chef Boyardee 18+
Chapter Seven: Little Black Dress
Chapter Eight: Mordor
Chapter Nine: The Upside Down
Chapter Ten: Echo
Chapter Eleven: Vecna/Henry/One
Chapter Twelve: Grand Theft Auto
Chapter Thirteen: Phase One
Chapter Fourteen: Hero
Chapter Fifteen: Hell Cracked Open
Chapter Sixteen: Epilogue
AO3 STORY LINK
#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic
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i am in a very emo mood right now so here’s a disclaimer: i cried writing this and its very long.
Steve and Eddie have been together for seventeen years now. Both are very happy with their relationship, they’ve been engaged since they were twenty three and they haven’t looked back since. Gay marriage is legal by then in some parts of the country but not in Illinois (They’ve been living in Chicago since ‘87 when Robin started college and Steve packed up all of their stuff to follow her.) It’s not something they actively seek out, because would marriage really change anything in their relationship? They already refer to each other as husbands and they already wear wedding bands.
But kids. God, Eddie never really thought he would want kids. He grew up in an abusive environment that made him hate the prospect of procreating. At the age of thirteen, he realized he was gay and yeah, that was it, he won’t have kids, ever. But when he met Steve, Steve already had seven kids under his arms. Everyone knew about the six nuggets dreams and it’s always been a source of insecurity from Eddie, but Steve has been adamant that he didn’t need those things, he only needed Eddie. He jokes around about it, “I already have seven kids, okay? Eight if you add Robin.”
‘99 brings the first member of the Party 2.0. It’s Max and Lucas, of course, and though it was a long road to it, they made it. Max and Lucas are the two that moved out to California for college, but then moved back to Chicago to stay close to them. Eddie thinks it’s an unspoken agreement between Steve and Max, siblings bonded by trauma and love. They got married around ‘95, just a few months after Max and Lucas graduated college. Four years later, Eddie won’t ever forget Steve’s shaking hands when Max hands him Eleanor May Sinclair for the first time, her little tiny hands holding onto his finger as Lucas tells him that he was going to be the godfather. Steve smiles down at the tiny little red head, with her father’s eyes and her mother’s freckles and promises, “I am going to spoil you rotten, you’re going to hate it.”
‘01 brings the second member of the Party 2.0. It’s Jonathan and Nancy, who didn’t get married until around ‘98 because they were both too focused in their blooming careers. By then everyone had bets on how much longer before the two finally give in and get married, Argyle wins the biggest money and they still think there has been some kind of cheating. It’s a cold winter night when Nancy goes into labor. Steve and Eddie (with Robin, Max, Lucas and Ellie) takes the next flight to New York from the moment Jonathan called them that Nancy’s going into labor. Robin’s hailed as the godmother, because the skittle six all stayed close friends but there has always been some kind of women solidarity between Nancy and Robin. Eddie has to hold Steve’s hand when he starts crying when Nancy tells them her name, Barbara Arya Wheeler-Hopper. Nancy smiles at him, eyes glassy from exhaustion and emotions, as Steve holds her for the first time, voice shaking as he finally meets her, “Hi Barb.”
In the same year, the third member of the Party 2.0 is born. It’s Dustin and Suzie. That one was a looong story. After the Vecna fiasco of Spring and Fall of ‘86 (where they finally killed Vecna and closed the Upside Down for good), Suzie and Dustin broke up due to some miscommunications and because her father has been much more stricter after the Cali gang's visit. By chance, they meet again in MIT in ‘89 and remained friends for another two years (In Steve and Eddie’s dismay this led to long hours of telephone calls from Dustin pining over his ex-girlfriend-now-turned-bestfriend) before they finally got their act together when Dustin drunkenly proposes to Suzie (they don’t get married until ‘96). Steve and Eddie has come down to California about a week before Suzie’s expected labor day for moral support and just to help. Suzie goes into labor in a grocery store with Steve, while they were out buying peppers to induce labor. Steve has to drive them frantically to the hospital while a chill Suzie drinks her strawberry milkshake in the passenger seat. After 36 hours of labor, Edward Stephen Henderson was born. Eddie’s the one who cries more when Dustin announces the name, he’s also the first one in the party to hold the newborn. Eddie smiles down at Edward, laughing as he looks up at Steve, “I will do everything in my power so that you won’t end up with your father’s ego.” Cue Dustin’s protests in the back and Suzie laughing so hard she pops a stitch. Steve’s hand on his waist doesn’t leave even for a moment the whole night.
By ‘02 Max is pregnant again, Robin and Vickie’s adoption papers were processing and El’s been looking into Artificial Insemination. Will and Mike are the only two who doesn’t seem interested in having kids and are happy to just be the gay uncles that shower the kids with expensive ass gifts.
Steve’s hiding it well, Eddie will give that to him. Steve’s always been good with kids, always had that glow whenever he's around them and there is no doubt in Eddie's mind that his husband will be a wonderful, amazing father. It also helps mask the baby fever he’s had for about four years now since Ellie was born. Eddie doesn’t miss the melancholic looks he gets when it's time for Max to take Ellie home or the look he gets when they visit Barb and they have to say goodbye to her big brown eyes. Eddie knows his husband has wanted kids for as long as the’ve been together, but doesn’t say anything for his sake. So he takes a long look at his life. Does he want kids? Does he want to come home with kids in the house? Could he ever be even a sliver of the father that Steve was born to be? Would he be anything like his biological father?
He calls Wayne, talks to him for hours about every fear and doubt he has. He loves Steve so much and it hurts him to not be able to give this to him just because he’s being a coward again. Wayne soothes every shaking nerve in his body, and Eddie thinks, he’ll be fine. He’ll be fine because he wasn’t raised by John Munson, he was raised by Wayne Munson.
He’s done so much research about gay adoption that he has to hide the thick folder under a loose floor in their shared office, just so Steve can’t find it. He wants to be ready for this before he talks to Steve about it and by Christmas ‘02, he’s ready.
Its the quiet lull just before Christmas. The tree is decked out with numerous gifts, the house full of fairy lights (fairy lights they made sure would never blink), outside it just started snowing. In 24 hours, the house would be full with their family coming from different states to celebrate the holiday with them. Steve's wrapping the last few gifts, hot choco on his side when Eddie sits across him on the floor, handing him the thick folder.
Steve opens the folder with a bewildered look, his face shifting to shock in seconds. Steve looks up at Eddie with teary eyes, "Before you say that you don't need kids because I don't want kids, hear me out, okay?" Eddie reaches out for his hand, "I do want kids. I want kids with you. I've had kids with you since '86 when Dustin and Max decided to look for me. I've always wanted kids with you. I was... I was just scared that I'd end up like my dad, you know?" Steve sighs, hand tightening in his grasp, "Eds."
Eddie shakes his head, "Wait, I am not done. I talked to Wayne, you know? And I thought about it and I want kids with you, Steve Harrington. In any shape or form. If you don't want it right now, we can put a pin on it and if you tell me you never want it, then we forget this conversation ever happened. We could adopt, we could get a surrogate, hell, if I can get pregnant I will do it, sweetheart. I want a kid that's half you and half me and that might not ever be possible but we can raise and love a kid together and that'll be just as good." Steve's smiling now, tears still flowing from his face as Eddie cups his face, using his thumbs to swipe away the tears.
"So what do you want, baby?" Eddie smiles as Steve starts laughs, nodding. "Yeah, yeah, I want a kid with you. Fucking hell, Eds." Steve hops up, tackling Eddie into a hug and showering him with kisses. They stay like that for an hour, just soaking in the pure adoration and love they feel for each other.
It's not until October '05 that their kid comes home. Elijah Syl Harrington-Munson was a 6 month old boy. Steve cries the first time he holds him as Eddie embraces him, Elijah holding his index finger in his tiny palm.
"Stevie, he has your hair." Eddie comments and there's no hint of joke or trick in his voice, just full of awe and Steve just cries even more.
When Elijah finally opens his eyes, Steve can't help the tenderness that bursts through him, "Eddie, Eds, he has your eyes."
Elijah's not a Harrington-Munson in blood, but he's Steve and Eddie's son through and through. And yeah, Elijah grows to have the same brunette wavy hair, styled just like his Dad's and the same brown doe eyes just like his Pa's. Sometimes, he sits in the living room as he reads a thick book with a basketball game playing on the background, Steve and Eddie thinks he's always meant to be theirs.
They adopt more kids. Not six because fuck no. But they do have their three nuggets, half Steve Harrington and half Eddie Munson and he won't ever have it any other way.
#and they lived happily ever after#i cried writing this#the harrington-munson show sounds like a sitcom that i would 100% watch#i love my dads#steddie rants#daeheadcanons#steddie fanfic#steddie headcanon#steddie fic rec#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson fluff
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Watermelon Piña Colada !
2 oz. Hamilton's 86 Rum
0.5 oz. pineapple juice
1 oz. watermelon juice
1.5 oz. coconut syrup
0.5 oz. Campari or Aperol
0.5 oz. lime
Add all ingredients to a cocktail shaker with crushed ice (or the smallest ice you have), and shake for six to eight seconds. Pour both ice and liquid into a festive tiki glass, add more ice to top, and garnish with a couple mint sprigs. Alternatively, if you prefer it blended, add all ingredients to blender with about 1 cup (~250g) of ice, and blend on high until smooth and garnish with mint sprigs or a slice of watermelon.
This article was not sponsored or supported by a third-party. A Cocktail Moment is not affiliated with any individuals or companies depicted here.
#art#design#cocktails#cocktail#recipes#drinks#rum#lime#watermelon#summer#summer coktail#aperol#campari#coconut#pineapple
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Please sort these into ascending order: The amount of kittens that Virgil has rescued from trees. The amount of phone numbers Scott's gotten. The amount of sealife that Gordon has freed from nets. The number of stars that Alan has wished upon. The number of trolls who really, really regret any interaction they've ever had with JT5. 😘😘😘
The Interview
It has taken me some time to finish this one, and it refused to behave. Apologies for the delay.
Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight and @gaviiadastra for read throughs and putting up with my crazy.
Also, thank you @flyboytracy for asking in the first place. you continue to inspire me :D
Some of you may have read the first couple hundred words already, as I posted the first tiny bit as a Thunderfam SOS earlier in the year, but there is now a good 2800+ words along side the beginning.
I hope you enjoy it. ::hugs you all::
-o-o-o-
“So, Virgil, all reports have you as the kindest and I quote ‘squishiest’ rescue operative in International Rescue. Your followers would like to know…” Kat peered down at her tablet. “How many kittens have you rescued from trees?”
The big man just stared at her. She had to admit, it wasn’t an every day question, but that was Tumblr for you.
“Umm…”
Alan snickered.
Scott frowned.
Gordon had a grin on his face fit to outshine the sun.
John rolled his eyes. “58.”
“Hey!” Virgil glared at his brother.
“Someone has to keep count.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
The astronaut straightened in his seat, obviously affronted. “What?”
“It’s 86.”
“What?!”
“Not every one was on the clock, John. What was I supposed to do, leave them meowing?”
Scott facepalmed.
“Eos, you were told to monitor.” John frowned at his suddenly glowing watch.
A female voice snarked through the timepiece. “I have my reasons.”
“Reasons?”
“Virgil does do our supply runs, you know.”
John’s jaw dropped and Kat was hard up trying to keep a straight face.
Gordon wasn’t helping with all the giggling either.
“Virgil, I thought we had that under control.” Scott’s voice was ever so tolerant.
“I do! That is over ten years. That is only eight point six cats per year.”
Gordon snorted. “How do you save point six of a cat, Virg? Wouldn’t call that a successful rescue, bro.”
“On average. And besides, sometimes it was the same cat.”
All four of his brothers were staring at him.
Virgil squirmed where he sat. “Mr Fluffy got stuck several times.”
“Mr Fluffy!”
“I repeat, what was I supposed to do? He’s Parker’s cat.”
Scott facepalmed again as Gordon cracked up laughing enough to almost fall off his chair. John appeared to be arguing with his watch, and Alan was tennis-spectating between each of his bothers apparently not really sure how to react at all.
Kat couldn’t help but smile.
This was an interview of a lifetime and would make her career, but she had to admit it went beyond all that. The five brothers were being alarmingly candid and she was concerned that the interview wouldn’t make it past IR security.
Kayo had seemed nice enough on the ranch, but here in the studio…the woman’s eyes tracked everything. She had a team in the building, who knew where, and as a group they were nothing short of terrifying.
A little bit overkill, Kat thought.
It wasn’t like they could be overheard.
The Tracys had decided to attend the studio, but under the rigorous eye of their security…which had scoured the place clean. Only Kat, her tablet, and two holorecorders were allowed in the soundproof room. And all recording would be reviewed by that same security.
If Kat was attempting to gut the Tracys like she had originally threatened to, this might have been a problem, but as hinted on the ranch, they were not who she had thought they were, and their answers only drew her closer to the idea that perhaps the world didn’t really deserve this amazing family.
“Okay, Fish, you think I’m hilarious. How many times have we had to stop on the way home to save some sea life? Not that I begrudge you, life is life, but….hey, what is the difference between fish and cats?”
Wow, Virgil knew how to frown when riled up.
Gordon grinned, unrepentant. “Probably the tree part.”
Virgil folded his arms and totally grumped.
“Gordon?” Scott’s voice had an edge to it Kat had heard in the field.
Uh-oh.
“Yes, Scott?” Gordon appeared oblivious, but John had looked up from his watch and was frowning as much as Virgil.
“How much sea life are we talking about?”
Gordon blinked and maybe picked up on the eyebrows aimed at him. “Umm…”
Scott straightened in his seat. “Thunderbird Five, report.”
John rolled his eyes again. “We’ve spoken about this.”
“Are we including Tracy Island wildlife in this equation?” The pert young female voice spoke from John’s watch again. Really, it appeared to be a Rolex, as expected for a billionaire, but it was obviously something else.
“I want everything, Thunderbird Five.”
“Six thousand, four hundred and twenty-three, with a margin of error equal to several schools of tuna and one mola-mola.”
“Hey, I saved that mola-mola.”
“The mola-mola didn’t think so. It bit you.”
“Mola molas don’t bite.” But Gordon had his arms folded, much like Virgil now.
“I beg to differ. That was three stitches.” Virgil’s frown almost split his face in half.
“You’ve been injured?!” Scott was at full glare.
“I was doing my job!”
“Your job is to save lives, Gordon. We don’t have the resources to-”
Gordon waved an arm and nearly hit Virgil in the head. “A life is a life, Scott!”
“We can’t save everyone!”
Gordon shot to his feet. “But we can try. You’ve said it yourself many times.”
“Gordon-“ Scott rose to his feet.
Which prompted Virgil to stand up, one hand going to Gordon’s chest, the other to his advancing big brother. “C’mon, guys.”
Scott’s eyes darted to Kat and she stared wide-eyed up at him.
Gordon continued to glare as Virgil hustled him back to his seat.
“We will discuss this later.” Scott was pointing a very pointed finger at his aquanaut brother.
“Sit down, Scott.” Virgil turned his eyebrows on his eldest brother and the man backed off. He obeyed, but was still glaring, this time at Virgil.
Kat had no doubt that there would be an extended discussion on this subject in their future.
She also made a note to check on the mola mola issue. Could be something of value in that angle. Perhaps a one-on-one interview with Gordon and saving sea life.
The men settled down under the glare of Virgil in the middle. At this point, Kat was grateful she had set the chairs up the way she did. Scott was on her left, followed by John – who was glaring and mumbling at his watch again – Virgil, Gordon and Alan.
Alan appeared to be stuck on the outside of this little circus.
Maybe she could fix that.
“So, Alan, your fans are a rather active bunch.”
The young man startled, his eyes widening like he was stuck in a spotlight. “I have fans?” It came out an octave higher than she expected.
She smiled. “You most certainly do. A very active and solid group actually. We have a number of questions from them.”
“Oh, um, fire away.” His smile was brave at least.
Kat was ever so aware of the eyes of his four eldest brothers now currently targeting her.
She got the message. Be kind to the kid.
Or else.
“Okay. You are known as the astro brother.” She could have said ‘astro boy’ but her survival instincts nipped it in the bud. “Several people would like to know which star is your favourite?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Mom’s star.”
The room froze.
Not that anything actually changed. No one moved or said anything. But...
Something walked across Kat’s skin, raising her hackles.
She knew the Tracy’s had lost their mother early on. It didn’t take much to confirm that, it was public knowledge. Alan had been one at the time. He couldn’t possibly remember her.
“Which star is your mother’s star?”
It was John who answered. “Vega.”
Alan blinked in his direction and frowned. “I can talk about Mom’s Star, can’t I?”
There was silence for a moment.
“Yes, you can.” It was Scott and his voice was emotionless.
Scott had been sixteen. He most definitely remembered his mother.
“John used to take me up onto the roof of the farmhouse and we would stare at the stars for hours. Did you know that Vega has five confirmed planets?” And Alan started talking astronomy – the star’s distance from Earth, its gravity, spin, the whole bit. Alan obviously knew his stars well.
But Kat was stuck on those five planets and she couldn’t help but glance at the other four brothers, all of whom would have been affected by the loss of their mother.
They all had their professional faces on and she knew she had lost the relaxed atmosphere. She needed to get back to a lighter topic or risk losing this interview completely.
She glanced at her tablet and scrolled through the many questions awaiting an answer.
She grabbed one. “Do you ever wish on any stars?”
Alan blinked at her. “Uh…” But then he frowned, turning to Virgil. “Hey, how can 86 cats be over ten years, Eos has only been with us for three!”
Virgil’s eyes widened. “Uh…”
“Yeah, I see what’s happening here. And you!” He pointed at Gordon. “That means…”
Gordon glared at his little brother. “That means I’m doing my job.”
There was an uneasy silence after that. Scott had his eyes on her. Blue lasering her every movement.
Kat swallowed. She was a professional. She had handled presidents and prime ministers…
Electric blue reminded her of exactly who she was talking to now.
She looked away and down at her notes. “Okay, onto another topic.” She forced a smile. “Many of these questions relate to your love lives.”
All the brothers sat us straighter, shuffling in their seats.
Scott’s gaze redirected like the high beam it was, directly onto each individual brother.
She straightened her shoulders. “You’re listed as the five most eligible bachelors on the planet. Any lucky prospective partners?”
The silence was a gaping hole in the room.
“Scotty’s had a few.” Of course, it was Gordon.
Every brother glared at him.
He held up his hands in an attempt at total innocence. “Hey, I’ve been there! Virg, too!” He elbowed the heavy lifter in the ribs. “You said he asked that pilot lady out while hanging off a cliff.”
Virgil was frowning again.
Gordon rolled his eyes. “Johnny! You have to have numbers on that. How many phone numbers does he have in his little black book?”
“Gordon!” Scott, Virgil and John were almost symphonic.
That quirky female voice piped up again from John’s watch. “53.”
“Eos! Stand down.” The Commander’s voice struck out.
There was a high pitched ‘hmph’ from John’s watch and light from the device died.
Kat was hard pushed to ignore the flush on Scott’s face. Was that a touch of embarrassment?
But it was Virgil who spoke. “Ms Kavanaugh, certain sacrifices are made to do what we do. I would appreciate some understanding.” He elbowed Gordon in the ribs, obviously in revenge and a touch harder than friendly. “My brother knows this.”
Maybe there was a reason why this family hadn’t done a proper interview together before. Alan was staring at his brothers again, this time with something akin to fear on his face.
It was Gordon’s turn to frown and fold his arms across his chest.
Virgil glared at him. “Not funny, fish.”
“Just trying to help.”
Kat began to wonder if there was any footage that could be saved from this interview. At this rate she had nothing other than rescuing cats from trees.
“So why do you do it?” The question tumbled from her mouth without thought, not without a little exasperation.
All five brothers sat up straighter.
Scott. “Because when you-“
John. “-call for help-”
Virgil. “-you deserve to know-”
Gordon. “-somebody is out there-“
Alan. “-listening.”
They spoke together, over each other, but all with the same words. The passion in the room was a living thing and Kat could feel the purpose.
“This obviously means a great deal to all of you.”
A single nod from the Commander. The soft smiling big brother she had witnessed earlier was gone and what replaced him was ever so formidable.
The brothers may play around, but underneath it all were five men determined in their mission. Five of the richest men on the planet willing to devote that wealth, and their lives, to helping others.
Those blue eyes glistened.
Kat found her heart beating ever so fast.
Someone cleared their throat.
She blinked and found it was Virgil. He had the smallest of smirks on his face and his eyes were dancing in the lighting. “Do you have any further questions?”
And she found herself blushing. “Uh, yes.” She fiddled with her tablet as she gathered her thoughts.
“John, there are a number of questions for you regarding the capabilities of Thunderbird Five, ranging from ‘seeing me waving at you from my backyard’, all the way up to playing the stock market and accusations of espionage.” She drew in a breath. “Do you have any comments?”
John was the quiet and serious one. Red hair and the most gorgeous green-blue eyes she had ever see on a man. Actually, come to think of it, all the Tracy men had fantastic eyes.
The Commander’s blue were still trained on her.
She kept her attention on John.
He was a bit of a mystery as the least seen in the media. He was the Voice Who Answers, the Eye in the Sky. She wondered how much he actually saw and heard.
The man was unruffled under her full attention. “I see and hear what I need to.”
She blinked. That was very precise wording.
“Do you miss being at the centre of the action?”
“What do you mean?”
“You live on Thunderbird Five, don’t you?”
“Yes. Some of the time.”
“You often have to watch your brothers step into dangerous situations. Do you ever want to join them?”
“I do join them when necessary, Ms Kavanaugh. I am as much a first responder as any of my brothers.”
Kat held up a hand. “I know that, John. Your speciality is space. But you often have to watch from afar. How do you cope with that?”
Alan bounced up in his seat, almost jumping to his feet. “John is with us all the time. Without him, there would be no rescues.”
“But he is stuck up on Thunderbird Five-“
Scott cut her off. “John is our communications expert. He works just as hard as any of us, sometimes harder. It is not an easy job.” His eyes flicked to his younger brother. “But John is the master of it.”
“But don’t you feel helpless being so far away, only able to watch?”
Alan snorted. “John does so much more than watch.”
She targeted the youngest. “Like what?”
“He helps all the time, he-“
“Alan.” It was a single word from the Commander that had her missing that big brother persona all the more.
“But he does!”
“Alan.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll shut up.” And boy, the youngest could throw a pout better than any of the brothers so far today.
She ignored it and focussed on John. “Your thoughts?”
“Ms Kavanaugh, I do what I need to do.”
“And what do you need to do?”
“What is necessary.”
“To save lives?”
The was the briefest of hesitations. Another journalist may never have noticed.
But she did.
His answer was simple. “Yes.”
“I have a Tumblr user who claims you reprogrammed his tablet from space and now it will only play nursery rhymes.”
Those green-blue eyes darted to his right. “Perhaps you should ask him why I did it.”
“Aw, c’mon, John, it’s been six years!” Gordon’s voice was a whine. “You mess up every new tablet I buy. I said I’m sorry.”
Virgil frowned at Gordon. Virgil apparently frowned a lot. “What are you doing on Tumblr?”
Gordon switched from John to Virgil. “Well, derr, it’s the only decent blogging platform left.”
Kat scribbled a note that @gordonthesquid was actually Gordon Tracy. Thinking about it, it was pretty obvious.
She turned back to John. “How many times have you done that?”
“As many times as it takes to stop Gordon from messing with my possessions.”
“Six years, bro!”
“You’re a slow learner.”
“Ass.” The aquanaut crossed his legs and arms and turned his back on John.
Between the two of them, Virgil sighed.
Kat made a mental note never to piss off John Tracy.
Those blue eyes still hadn’t left her.
Note to self: never piss off any Tracy.
Perhaps it was fate that broke both her legs and prevented her from screening her attack on the Tracys.
She had the strongest feeling that she would never have seen him coming and no-one would have found the bodies much less counted them.
John emanated quiet confidence…and power…as he held her gaze.
Perhaps she had better wrap up the interview.
“I have many other questions to ask, but I know it has been a long day for all of you, so one last question.” She drew in a breath. “Is it worth it?”
“Yes.”
“God, yeah.”
“Of course.”
“Always.”
Scott was watching each of his brothers as they spoke, but stared at them a moment longer before answering himself…ever so quietly.
“I hope so.”
-o-o-o-
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#scott tracy#virgil tracy#john tracy#gordon tracy#alan tracy#kat kavanaugh#nuttyfic
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86' Baby Master List
You're 19, and it's your Senior year, and you've just moved to Hawkins, Indiana. Talk about shit luck. But maybe there is a good side to this whole story. 86' Baby!
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty
MINORS DNI (I truly don't want any young-ins in here. If I get a recommendation from someone who doesn't have a age in their bio, I WILL NOT DO IT!!)
Authors Note: This is a y/n story. Y/N gets used less and less as the story goes on. I am constantly writing this story. Sometimes it takes a long time, sometimes I can pop out a great chapter super quick. The beginning of the story is filled with short chapters that have just gotten longer and longer. Open to suggestions to where the story should go, but I've got a pretty good feel of what I want to do. I've been writing this since 2022 and it is posted on other websites.
I wanted to tag some people who continue to inspire me to write this story. Thanks to so many of you for your lovely content! It makes the bad days good.
@eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiemunsons80sbaby @munson-blurbs @bettyfrommars @oneforthemunny @quickiesgirl @harrywavycurly
^Some of the best right here!!
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┈─ 𖧷 grief is perhaps the last and final translation of love. this is the last act of living someone. and you realize that it will never end. you get to do this to translate this last act of love for the rest of your life.
BIRTH NAME ⸝⸝ naiyana chantarangsu
STAGE NAME ⸝⸝ NAISU
RACE ⸝⸝ asian
NATIONALITY ⸝⸝ thai
ETHNICITY ⸝⸝ thai
GENDER ⸝⸝ female
PRONOUNS ⸝⸝ she / her / hers
SEXUALITY ⸝⸝ unlabeled
HEIGHT ⸝⸝ five foot six ( 5’6 / 167.64 cm )
FACECLAIM ⸝⸝ namtan tipnaree ( tipnaree weerawatnodom )
𖧷
DATE OF BIRTH ⸝⸝ october fifth, nineteen ninety-eight ( 10.05.98 )
PLACE OF BIRTH ⸝⸝ bangkok, thailand
ZODIAC SIGN ⸝⸝ libra
CHINESE ZODIAC ⸝⸝ tiger
MBTI ⸝⸝ ISTJ ( introverted, sensing, thinking, judging )
LANGUAGES ⸝⸝
ENGLISH ( 100 % )
THAI ( 100 % )
KOREAN ( 86 % )
JAPANESE ( 73 % )
FAMILY ⸝⸝
SAKDA CHANTARANGSU ( biological father )
NIN BANNARASEE ( biological mother )
JEONG JIHO ( adoptive mother )
𖧷
BORN IN THE CAPITAL OF THAILAND, naiyana’s introduction to the world was bloody and wretched. full moon hanging outside the window like an omen, she would emerge screaming as her mother’s breaths faded in the delivery room. stricken with grief, it wouldn’t take much for her father to fall down the lowly rabbit hole of neglect and despair. to his credit, her father tried. enrolled her in school, tried his best to attended her spelling bees, hung her quizzes with full marks on the fridge. but he, too, would be consumed by swirling dark thoughts, leaving her naiyana with no immediate family willing to take her in. the only thing he left her with was an ominous sit down and a crumpled piece of paper with a series of numbers.
‘if you don’t see daddy come home in the morning to make your breakfast, call this number okay? a nice lady will come pick you up. daddy loves you so much… he’s just so tired. and he misses mommy badly.’
that nice lady would turn out to be a madame jeong jiho, wife to the late ceo of jeong & co. naiyana was whisked away from thailand with nothing but her clothes and the locket her father wore containing a picture of her parents at their wedding. insisting on being called just jiho to the young girl, naiyana was brought up in a style of luxury—the perfect little girl. etiquette, professionalism, class. she was a doll, jiho’s doll, dressed in frills and pretty pinks to forget the broken family she came from. and when she wasn’t crying for an emptiness she could not understand, she danced. she danced because jiho loved when she danced.
school is a flurry of names and faces she does not remember. graduation is a ceremony dulled by endless pictures and gifts from strangers she’s never met. she might have fallen in love, once. she doesn’t remember her name. only that jiho caught them behind a pillar and it sent a tremor through her bones that hasn’t quite left since. she danced because her m jiho loved when she danced, enrolled in singing lessons, and was whisked to seoul to audition at a company she didn’t know. because she ought to put her talent to good use, no?
𖧷
COMPANY ⸝⸝ GLASSHOUSE INC.
OCCUPATION ⸝⸝
IDOL / SOLOIST ( 2022 — )
TRAINING PERIOD ⸝⸝ 2019 - 2022
REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI(S) ⸝⸝ 🌑 ( official ), 🎀 ( fan selected )
FANDOM NAME ⸝⸝ moonsu ( official )
#fake idol community#fake idol oc#fictional idol soloist#fictional kpop community#fictional idol oc#fictional idol community#fictional kpop soloist#fictional kpop idol#fictional idol company#fictional kpop oc
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