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#and 2) get the suit properly tailored
pollenallergie · 7 months
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respectfully, i’m gonna need dior to stop putting jq in suits that are so baggy that it looks like he’s a child playing dress-up with his dad’s clothes.
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homerjacksons · 3 months
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God can we just skip to the end of april so I can relax?
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avocado-writing · 7 months
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Roland Blum x Reader
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notes: nobody asked for this but I wrote it anyway. big shout out to my mate M who helped me brainstorm this and came up with some of the *chefs kiss* lines. might do a part 2 idk rating: E, minors dni
words: 2.4k
cw: utter filth. smut; excessive discussion of oral sex; pegging; you’re both switches lmfao taglist: @clarina04 @havaheart @angiestopit @cryptid-flannelhell @shadowluna25
Roland Blum fucking hates you. 
He hates how you think you know everything even though you’re just a kid. Yeah, sure, he was the exact same way when he was your age, but he also acknowledges that he’s a hypocrite and doesn’t care. He hates the tight little outfits you wear, because he’s a slut for a well-tailored suit and you know you look exceptionally fuckable in them. He hates how he couldn’t stop imagining bending you over his desk and drenching his cock in your tight little pussy, wondering what his name would sound like from your mouth as you choke it out through orgasms. He hates that you’ve rejected his every advance so far. 
Most of all he hates how you’re good at this job. It’s infuriating. If you were shit, like so many of the others he’s seen come and go through these doors, it might be different. But you’re not. You’re a fucking shark, out for blood. Just like him. 
He hates you. 
If there’s one thing that’s worse than you it’s your shitty little boyfriend. 
He’s constantly around, trying to earn your approval - and he does need to earn it because it doesn’t take much research to find out he’s a fucking serial cheater. He has this habit of falling dick first into leggy blondes he finds at bars which you don’t much approve of. And you fucking let him keep getting away with it! You don’t even seem to like the guy that much. Roland can see the thinly veiled disinterest on your face every time your boyfriend tries to surprise you with your favourite coffee or a bunch of flowers. You accept them, and the kiss he offers, and then look relieved when he’s gone. 
You need a good fuck. You need it. He can tell, and he’s sure your boyfriend isn’t getting the job done. Nobody sexually satisfied is as bitchy as you are. Except, maybe, for him. But his exception doesn’t prove the rule. He teases you about it mercilessly and loudly, and your conversations always end the same way. 
“Maybe if someone was taking care of your vagina, it wouldn’t have sand in it.”
“I fucking hate you, Roland.”
“Yeah, I know.”
But you work well together, that can’t be denied. Case after case you take on, and case after case you win. It’s nice that you can put your mutual loathing aside to be professional for long enough to help your clients out.
He knows where you’re meant to be meeting your boyfriend that night. That fancy bar in the penthouse of that hotel. Seems fucking stupid to him, bars should be on ground level, but what does he know. While you’re in the bathroom he gets himself something strong which goes down well with the pill he takes; he sits in the corner where he won’t be seen and watches you. 
You’re sitting on a tall stool, drumming your fingers on the counter. At first you look hopeful. Then you look at your watch. Over and over again. He can see the excitement leave you and you deflate like a balloon animal left in some kid’s room as time ticks by. Eventually your phone rings, and though he can’t work out every word, you have a very short conversation with the person on the other end, finishing the call by jabbing your screen so hard he’s surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. 
You head into the elevator. He follows you. You’re the only two in there as the doors slide shut and it begins its descent. He leans on the wall and looks at you, levelly. You don’t even seem surprised that he’s there, you just look sort of tired. 
“So,” he says, and you look like you’re bracing yourself for him to mock you like he usually would, but he gets straight to the point, “you gonna let me fuck you?”
You look at him, properly look at him. You seem to sum him up for the first time since you started at the firm, let your eyes trail up and down his body, taking him in. 
“Roland, you have until the alcohol wears off.”
You barely get the last word out, actually, because he hears your consent and fucking lunges for you. His mouth is hot and rough on yours, beard scraping your chin and cheeks, and he grins into it when he hears you moan. Moaning from a kiss? You are desperate. 
He slams his fist on the emergency brake button and the elevator screeches to a halt. You pull back to look at him, confused and appalled. He likes it. 
“What?” he asks, pressing his thigh between yours, up into your needy cunt, “You said I have until the alcohol wears off, I’m not wasting a single fucking second with you.”
You seem oddly charmed by that idea, but it’s only a quick flash of sentiment over your face before he finds your clit and begins to fuck into it with the width of his thigh. You begin to twist and writhe in pleasure against him, wanting to ride him yourself, but him not allowing you the freedom to do it. He grins as he watches you melt. 
“Knew you needed someone to take care of your little cunt.”
“I fucking hate you,” you snap, but he can tell your heart isn’t in it. Not this time anyway. He pulls off his suit blazer and, with a flick of the wrist that is too certain to have not been practised before, he manages to throw it over the camera in the upper corner of the elevator, letting it hang off it as if it were a coat rack. Seemingly happy that you have a few minutes, you let him kiss his way down your body and end up on his knees in front of you. He sees the hungry way you look down at him and wants to see it on your face all the fucking time. 
He makes light work of your tight little skirt, raising his eyebrows when he gets to your thong. You shove him with your foot. 
“What?”
“Someone thought she was gonna get lucky tonight.”
“Yeah, well, I fucking am aren’t I?”
He can’t argue with that. Well, he could, but for once he doesn’t. Instead he rips it off your body with his bare hand and shoves it into his trouser pocket. You yelp but any complaints you have are quickly doused when he begins to fuck you with his mouth. He is fucking ravenous for you, pressing his fingers up inside your greedy cunt and latching onto your clit viciously. You haul a leg over his shoulder and pull him in harder against you, your heel knocking against his spine. He digs his hands into the meat of your ass and hopes his fingernails leave little crescents. 
You come once on his fingers, heavy and slick, and look both exhausted and disappointed when he pulls his hand away. He sucks his fingers dry and nods to the elevator control panel. 
“Thing’s about to start working again. I’d get dressed if I were you.”
On cue the elevator begins to whir as someone somewhere deactivates the brake. As it starts to swoop downwards and finish its journey you scrabble to get your skirt back on while Roland grins at the show. 
He takes his suit jacket and walks out the door with confidence when they open, striding past the assembled staff with utter nonchalance. 
“Get that fucking thing fixed, almost ruined my evening,” he shouts at them, but anyone looking for too long can see his beard is soaked in you. You do your best to mimic his confidence, walking out as if the elevator room doesn’t reek of sex. 
He heads to the street, doesn’t say anything, but offers the cab driver two hundred dollars to ignore what’s happening in the back seat. You bark out your address and fall into his lap. 
Roland fingers you while you’re driven to your apartment. You’re one orgasm deep and high off it, and he makes you come again in the back of a dark taxi while easy listening plays over the radio. When the journey is over you grab his tie and pull him the two flights up to your home. He likes it a lot, being led like a dog, but there will be time to explore that another day. 
Because there will be another day. 
Roland takes immense joy in fucking you on the mattress he can only imagine your boyfriend has disappointed you on hundreds of times. He has stamina, you’ll give him that, and he ends up coming inside you three times over the following hours. By the end of it you’re lying on either side of the bed, sweaty and exhausted, just listening to the sound of your combined breathing. 
“Why do you wax?” is the question he chooses to break the silence with. You look confused, and he points to your pussy. 
“Oh. Personal preference I guess.”
“No, try again.”
“What—”
“I can tell when you’re lying. About this, anyway. Tell me why.”
You clench your jaw, but admit: “My boyfriend doesn’t like me hairy.”
Roland lets out a short, loud laugh that’s reminiscent of a bark.
“What, he afraid to get a pube in his mouth?”
“Roland!” you snap, and hit him with a pillow far harder than it has any right to feel.
“I’m just saying he’s a pussy. Wait, no, let’s not use that word, I fucking love pussy - he’s a coward. Grow it out if you want to grow it out, fuck him. If my face isn’t stuck to your cunt like Velcro then it’s no fun.”
You purse your lips but don’t say anything else.
The next time he fucks you, hair is beginning to grow there again. You’ve not really spoken about that night, and a couple of weeks have already passed. There’s been too much work to think about sex, anyway. Well, to act on it, at least. Well to act on it with each other - he’s not above admitting he kept your thong and likes to have the fabric over his mouth and nose while he jerks off into the toilet. You must know but you’ve not asked for it back, which he finds just wonderful.
The two of you are working late, main office lights off, lit by lamps, utterly exhausted. You’re in business mode, swapping ideas back and forth, butting heads a little but generally agreeing with what the other is saying. Excitement builds in the room and bubbles over to something else, and suddenly you’re in his lap stripping him off, and then he’s hefting you onto the desk and pulling down your skirt. He grins when he sees the slightly more natural state of your pussy and you roll your eyes at him.
“Don’t say a fucking word.”
“Oh, but I really want to.”
You silence him with a ferocious kiss and he begins to slide inside, too horny to bother getting out of his clothes properly; which is saying something because he loves being out of his clothes. He sheathes himself in you and you throw yourself back against the legal papers, not caring about how they scatter.
“So, your boyfriend pissed you off again?” he begins to thrust, pushing his girthy cock even deeper inside your creamy pussy.
“You wanna ask this while you’re inside me?”
He shrugs. He’s still hard as rock, so doesn’t seem to mind the discussion, so you humour him as he begins to work your clit with his thumb.
“Eh, a little. He’s always pissed me off to some level.”
“Why are you with him? You seem to fucking hate him.”
“We’ve been together - aah! - since we were in high school. Our families are friends. It’s just – oh, fuck – expected now.”
“Ahh, expectation, the truest form of love.”
You seem to mull that over, sincere, but you’re taken out of the moment when he slings one of your legs up over his shoulder and fucks into you so deeply you think he’s about to split you in half.
It becomes a more regular thing after that. Your little boyfriend is still around, but he’s none the wiser that you’re spending every other night fucking one of your coworkers. And the two of you are amazing at fucking. Roland believes you could sell tickets to a show to watch the two of you going at each other, feral and needy. And you’re kinky, too! One night you wrap his belt around his neck and squeeze it so hard his vision blurs and he comes more than he has since he was a teenager. On another, you fold him in two on your bed and take your time stretching his ass open before you peg him with the biggest dildo he’s ever seen. A prostate orgasm can really make you appreciate the world a little better.
You see each other a lot outside of work now, too. Usually he feels like the little dates you go on are extended foreplay, where you can run your foot up and down his leg and press your toes into his dick, but sometimes he has to admit he just likes going out with you. You’re a quick wit, whip-smart, and fucking filthy. You’re wasted on going out with that pathetic asshole, you really are.
And one night the two of you are working late, again. You’ve both ordered Chinese takeout from down the street, and have found yourselves distracted. Not with sex, not with arguing, but with trying to fling battered chicken balls into each others’ mouths across the length of the office. You’re in literal tears as Roland tries to wheel his chair into the chicken’s oncoming trajectory only to lose his balance and tumble out of it, landing miserably on his ass.
You can’t breathe. You grip the edge of the desk for support, tears streaming down your cheeks, the long line of your beautiful throat exposed as you throw your head back laughing, and Roland finds himself fucking enamoured with you. He wants to hear your laugh all day, every day, forever, actually. He wants to go home tonight knowing his is the only cock you have inside you. Fuck it if that’s possessive, he’ll promise the same thing if it means you’ll be only his.
He’s fucked.
He’s so fucked.
Roland Blum hates you.
Except he doesn’t really. He just has to tell himself that, or he’ll realise he’s fucking fallen in love.
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doppel-doodles · 26 days
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Since everyone is making their own little version of the characters I thought I would join the fun for my Fallen crown Au! These were supposed to be quick little sketches just to get some ideas down but they still took me the whole day:'D will probably change as I draw them but I wanted at least something down on for the time being and I do like how most turned out!
Single versions plus some info and ramblings about each under cut for those interested:
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My lamb was mainly based on both, yes the actual player character but also the vibes of my own plathrough which were very "oh god who let this child be in charge?-" while I'll still mostly just call them Lamb I figured they should still have a proper name so I went with my friends @/tamaruaart suggestion as it suits them rather nicely! And most note worthy detail is honestly just the fact that they carry something from each bishops realm on their person now, I like to think they treat those items like little trophies:>
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Narinder is probably my weakest I feel like, he definitely needs something to give him some extra "ompf!". I basically made his undertaker fit a sorta reverse or at least loosely inspired by his white robes in game. I imagine he is very boney or a straight up skeleton underneath so he covers it all up beneath heavy fabrics, but because I lack subtly I still covered him in bones regardless-
And yea I kept the veil cause 1. It's a look and 2. It coviently covers up his now sewn shut third eye.
There wasn't much reason behind making him an undertaker, I simply thought it suited him, when your the former god of death you aren't exactly squeamish around corpses. Lastly the dark blues are there to contrast the other followers warm tones, as they kinda seen him as an outcast which is just fine for narinder he isnt exactly thrilled to be here.
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I'll put Leshy and Heket together as they were sorta designed as a set.Since they are both youngest among the bishops I sorta latched onto the headcanon that they get along pretty well and just stick together after getting into the cult so they just share a lot of their duties. So I gave them some matching elements like the puffy shorts but also stuff that contrasts like Leshy having looser clothing and Hekets being more tight. Or Heket getting working gloves with a little belt to hold tools plus a hat for the sun, meanwhile Leshy will happily dig through the dirt bare clawed in the sun for hours-
I debated on giving Heket an apron but honestly I think she would only wear one while cooking or tending the farm plots there is no reason for her to wear it casually, the gloves though stay for I reason I utterly love because its PETTY-
Literally the only reason she keeps them on almost constantly is because when the lamb asks she can be like "ew, I'm not touching you with my bare hands." Yes, my humour is broken moving on-
I also gave Leshy a cane just so he actually has something to feel around with when he is areas he isn't too familiar with so he isn't running into crap- on that note, Heket can speak a bit but not exactly loud or for a very long time without seriously hurting her throat, once I properly learn it I definitely wanna draw her using sign language.
Lastly bodies, Leshy was based off a previous drawing I made of him in bishop form, I simply made it less monsterous but he is in charge of chaos so he had to remain a creature- Heket is more straight forward, she is a frog and she is large and in charge.
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There was one reason why I made Shamura a tailor and that was the mental image of them sewing the bishops clothes when they were younger and dressing them up all cute.
I went for more pink colors mainly because I thought it better suited the purple and would make their red eyes pop! Honestly I really love their colors they remind me of a Berry! I've drawn shamura before but honestly the only things that stuck were the colors,face and then also the hand markings I did tweak their eyes a bit I wanted something more stern feeling.
For clothing I kept everything nice and loose, while they are the tailor I also love the idea that in their spare time they either teach the youths in the cult or are like the champion of the fighting pit because war is also their domain and they can be- so I wanted them dressed pretty comfy to deal with whatever may come! But still keep everything pretty mature and mildly fancy maybe in the future I'll do some fancy gold and silver embroidery to the pants because of that.
As for body type I wanted them to be pretty thin but unlike Narinder who is twink material under his cloak they have a bit more bulk on top to show that they can choose violence if they so wish-
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I adore me some pathetic but still serving men, honestly except for the cross on his belt I completely ignored the fact I made him a medic- If he needs to treat something gross he can throw something over to protect his clothes but just like Heket there is no reason for him to wear that while not working.
Otherwise my main goal was simply to make Kalamar look pretty and fancy. I debated on either short or long bottoms until I realized I'd have to figure out his tentacle situation, then realized I don't hate myself THAT MUCH so bro got put into a floor length gown, work smarter not harder kids.
If I have an excuse to give a character a shawl I will take it so fast.
His body type I mainly wanted to flesh out the roster so I tried making him very squishy and huggable looking, I debated on thinner so he looked more dangly and stretchy but that made him kinda to similar to Narinders build for my liking.
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littlebluentebook · 2 months
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Alastor x Sewing!Reader pt.2
Chapter 3
You and Alastor crossed the threshold of the door and as soon as the blanket of darkness took you both over, you shivered.
"You must be freezing Y/N!" Alastor said pulling away.
"Huh? Oh no I am quite alright. It is just a couple of blocks to my place." You countered to the best of your abilities but your actions put no truth into your words. You brought your arms around you in a hug as an involuntary shiver spread throughout your body.
"Well," Alastor chuckled, "if it is just a couple of blocks my dear then I suppose I will be 'quite alright' as well." Alastor reached over his shoulders bending down slightly to wrap you in his coat.
"Thank you," you said going back to his arm.
"Anything for you" he said with a satisfied grin on his face.
You two walked back to your shop in a comfortable silence. You owned the building on top of your shop and lived there. It worked well because you saved time from the commute and were not paying for two separate areas in town. Walking together, you took notice of Alastor's coat around you. Different seams were tearing and there were plenty of holes in the lining. Safety pins that proved the illusion of a well fitting jacket poked at you with each step. 'How on earth is this comfortable' you thought to yourself. The shoulder pads shifted slightly with each step as they weren't stitched down.
"I broadcast at the end of this road." Alastor broke the silence recognizing where you both were as the sewing store came into view. Why didn't he ever take notice of your shop?
"Do you now? Who would have guessed we worked so close to one another and have never crossed paths" you chimed knowing its because you liked the comfort of your home.
"Thank you for walking me home Alastor" you continued incredibly grateful for the gesture.
"Of course darling. Do you need anything else from me tonight?"
"Just for you to get home safe"
"I will. Only because you were pleasant company tonight and I look forward to seeing you again." He ended the night the way it began, a simple gentle kiss to the back of your hand.
"Why thank you doll, you're just as charming as your voice on the broadcast. Safe travels- I'll see you again." With that you waved him goodbye, a smile plastered on your face. He was just the sweetest thing to you!
Alastor made it halfway home realizing you still had his coat. 'No worries' he thought. He would just pick it up Monday on his way home from work. He was content with the night, happy a nice person such as yourself was home safe and likely tucked away sleeping.
However, as soon as Alastor was out of your view, you got to work. Sure you had the next two days to get the coat returned to Alastor but you were excited for the project. Immediately you went to your sewing tables and flipped the blazer inside out. This made it easier to see what you were working with. There was a large tear in the lining in the back middle seam. The waist was pinched by bent safety pins on both the left and right sides as well as the back to create a tailored appearance. There were rips in the armpits causing the lining to tear away and multiple inner seams were torn.
It must have been difficult for Alastor to find properly fitting clothes with how tall and lean he was. If he sized down things would be too short on his long body so sizing up and altering the appearance was his only option.
The best way to fix his coat would be to tear out and replace the lining. It needed to be taken in at the waist and armpits and the sleeves needed to be hemmed a slight amount. Getting to work, you took your supply of old flour bags and started to trace a pattern. Cheap fabric could be difficult to come by so you offered discounts to anyone who would bring you the fabric for flour bags.
The new lining was made out of a heavier duty material rather than the cheap fabric already in the suit that could hardly hold a stitch without ripping. It took a while between all the cutting and stitching but you had the lining fit and sewed into the suit. Getting ready to hem and tailor the the coat, the sun started to peer through your blinds clearly curious about your work. Being focused in your work wasn't anything new, often times you were unable to sleep when you got a new project idea in your head.
Deciding to take a break, you headed upstairs. While getting ready; changing your clothes and washing your face, just doing the daily fixings you put a cup of coffee on the burner and set some breakfast in the oven to warm up. Once finished you headed down the stairs to open your shop and get started for the day.
You had Alastor's coat to finish- which now would take half an hour at most now that the hard part was out of the way. The blanket needed to be done this weekend and a few pants and dresses to hem. Next week you would start preparing for Mimzy's dress order.
A/N Hi everyone! Sorry this is short. I have been writing out all the parts to this story and then typing them all! I intend for this story to get pretty long and will be asking for some opinions soon! Thank you for reading!!
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desifemininewoman · 8 months
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Guide to 90's-2000's desi aesthetic
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If you want to be more like Aishwarya Rai from Dil ka Rishta or Amrita Rao from Vivah, this guide is for you.
Clothes
1. Go for fitted traditional dresses be it kurta, suit or even long dresses. They should be tailored to your sizes. Choose fabrics like chiffon and georgette.
2. Choose pastel colors or bright colors. Never dull colors.
3. Make it as simple as possible. If you are opting for a kurta set, your duppata should be plain, the kurti can be plain or some simple embroidery or chikankari or some other work can also go. The bottom again should be plain devoid of any work. Make sure you are wearing the same color top to bottom.
Makeup
Simplicity is the key for this aesthetic. Don't overdo anything. Keep your makeup as natural as possible.
Apply foundation and concealer to hide any acne or pigmentation. Nothing else.
Wear nude lipstick and add lipgloss to it.
Same with eyes. Nude eyeshadow or avoid it if you want to. Finish with eyeliner.
Hair
If you have straight hair, this aesthetic works for you. I, personally think, straight hair gives very polished, neat look and this is why the aesthetic works.
Don't worry if you have wavy or curly hair. To achieve that put together look, you can tie up your hair in braids or in a bun or ponytail. If you want to leave it open, what I do is, I frame my hair to my face and then tuck the rest of the hair behind. it works for me cause I have bangs so they stay on the front, rest of the hair behind. Otherwise you could always straighten your hair.
Jwellery
Again, simplicity is the key. Wear a small bindi matching your clothes or you can even wear that shiny one.
Either wear earrings or a necklace set. I mostly prefer earrings but if you want to wear both, make sure they are the small dainty ones.
You can also wear simple set of chudis in both hands matching the color of your clothes.
Mannerism
This is the most important in my eyes. You can look like Aishwarya Rai from Dil ka Rishta but the way you handle the look is the most important.
Ever wondered why Laxman was suddenly interested in Sanju in Mai Hoon Na? It wasn't just her wearing indian that did it neither it was the straightened hair.
She looked put together, more feminine after her makeover. She leaned into her feminine energy.
Be elegant, graceful, expressive. Smile more. Talk softly. Walk properly. Own your outfit with confidence.
Imagine you are Shantipriya yourself from Om Shanti Om, I don't care. Even the lookalike of Shanti had to learn her mannerism. You can do it do.
At the end I would say experiment. I would suggest at first, get your clothes tailored. Make your outfit. See what works and what doesn't. If you are shy about your arms get sleeves. If you are slender and have hourglass figure, go for long bodycon dresses and pair it with duppatta. Research and see what type of necklines, back, straps, etc works for you.
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starkidblogs · 1 year
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The Revenge Of The Spider Queen
A/n: Hi there! This chapter is much shorter because I cannot work on it as much due to work and family matters. I hope you can still enjoy it.
Chapter Eight 1/2
It was only a few days after the attack of Demon Bull King, and now it was the lunar New Year. A time to celebrate by spending time with family and friends, but you couldn't. Not with everything on your mind. Your fingers fidget with your necklace as you drown out the noises of the crowds.
~After DBK attack~
After the attack of the Demon Bull King and the bull clones, the city was a chaotic mess. During this time, the gang helps the citizens with the disaster mess. As for you, you had gone to check in on Bai He and her family. You were worried that something terrible happened to them.
Before you left to see them, you went back home. When you enter the boutique, you realize something missing. Chief's suit wasn't on the mannequin. You were worried and wondering if you had miss placed it, but found a bright blue note. You raised an eyebrow as you read it.
'My dear, (Y/n),
I'm glad to see that my clothes have been tailored, to fit me perfectly. Unfortunately, I had to leave before thanking you properly due to urgent matters that needed my attention. However, I promise to express my gratitude when I see you again.
Sincerely your Chief'
You smiled as your face had a pink glow on your cheek. You felt happy to read he liked the suit, but something was off. You couldn't understand why it felt like you were reading a different person's penmanship. You assume it was simply due to lack of sleep and ignore the idea.
Once you hit the road, you hoped Bai He and her family had escaped the bull clone invasions and were far away from the city. Luckily, you discovered that they had just returned home.
Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. Upon arriving at Bai He's house, you were greeted by her distressed parents rushing towards you. After you got out of the car, you spoke with them and inquired about the situation. Their tear-filled explanation painted a bleak picture.
Bai He had gone missing.
Her parents explained how she went after the cat after it escaped the house before DBK's attack, but she never returned home. They checked with the police, but she wasn't there. They were hoping that she was with you, but they noticed that you arrived there alone. As you listened, you became stunned, and your gut twisted with fear about what might have happened to her.
A report was made about a missing child, but the police were occupied with handling multiple emergencies resulting from the attack. The only thing you and your group could do was search for the child. You put up missing posters at your boutique and Pigsy's noodles. You went to her favorite but nothing. As time went by without any leads, it became apparent that you were struggling. Your friends noticed that you were not getting enough sleep and had poor eating habits. To ease your mind, even momentarily, Sandy and Mei suggested taking you to the festival.
~Present~
You sighed in frustration as you sat in Pigsy's food van as the festival became more lively with each passing minute. You were too deep in thought to notice the bowl of noodles in front of you. It wasn't until Pigsy snapped you out of it, "Kid, your noodles are going to go soggy if you keep staring at them." He said as he started to make another bowl. "Oh yeah... Sorry, Pigsy." You said as you ate.
"I understand you are not feeling well, but if you don't take care of yourself, you can't give your best to help her." The demon pig said as you finished the bowl of noodles, staring down at the leftover broth, seeing your hazy reflection. "You're right." you said, "I need to get better before I find more problems or create them." You say, with a sigh, as Pigsy served another patron.
Your attention turned to the struggle of the dragon horse girl. Looking up to see Mei struggling to fold the dumplings, you could have sworn you heard her say something about how difficult it is without fingers. You chuckled as you offered to help. Mei smiled and gave you a few to fold.
Tang ate his noodles as he saw his husband becoming more stressed. "Mei, (Y/n). Is it me, or does Pigsy seem more stressed than normal?" He said to you. Making all three see the demon pig forcing a smile and sweating. You can feel the tension coming off of him."Yeah, isn't Mk suppose to be working?" You asked them, but as you said, Mk's name caused Pigsy to snap.
"YES! (Y/N), HE IS! " He yelled at the three of you, as he continued, "WHERE IS THAT PUNK! CAUSE HE'S SURE AIN'T HERE!" You and Tang held your breath cause you didn't know where Mk was until Mei spoke up. "He's training with the Monkey King!" She casually said to Pigsy. " He said, 'NEW YEAR, NEW MK! I'm going to take my training to a whole new level!'" She finished, posing like Mk and using a mop on the counter. You laughed as a frustrated Pigsy seized the mop from Mei and snapped it in half. "Gimme that!"
"NeW yEaR nEw Mk! Keep going like this, he'll be newly unemployed!" Pigsy said as he created another bowl. "I mean it! If mk don't get here soon, I'm gonna," Before he could finished, he was interrupted by a looming shadow. He screamed, causing you to turn towards the figure. You saw a very festive Sandy, his arms filled with treats, toys, red envelopes, and candy. "Good cheer and Happy New Year!" Sandy grinned as he dropped his haul on the counter and some on Pigsy. "Look at all these delicious little goodies! I got enough to share." He proudly said.
Tang, You, and Mei were impressed, "Oooh! Thanks, Sandy." Mei thanked the blue man. You picked up an orange from the pile and started to peel it. "Yeah, Thank you, Sandy." you smiled at him.
"No problem! So um. Where's Mk?" Sandy said as he scratched his head. Pigsy burst out of the treats and toy he was under. He shouted, "WOULD YOU GUYS, PLEASE, SCREW AROUND SOMEWHERE ELSE!" Making you flinch and drop the half-peeled orange. "If you ain't going to help, go bothered somewhere else!"
"Aw... My orange." You playful pouted, seeing it go down the drain. Mei and Sandy laughed while Tang ate more noodles, and you peeled another orange. Pigsy moves the treats and toy from the counter, "At least clear the counter!" He said.
Sandy sat down next to you while you ate your orange. "You okay? You seem to be doing better." He asked, as you nod your head and gave him a piece of your orange. " I am doing a little better now that I'm here with you guys." You sigh with a soft smile. Sandy pats your back as he accepts your offer. "That's good to hear. Don't worry, we'll find her," he reassured you.
"Thanks, guys." You smiled. Time flies by as you guys made your way to the lunar new year parade. Sandy carries Tang and Mei to get an amazing view of the floats. They were incredible as you watch the dancers, the dragons, and the fireworks. All of you were in awe as you saw it pass by. "Man, Mk is surely missing this!" Mei said as you agreed. "Yeah, look at all these cool floats!" You chirped with joy.
"There's the dragon one, and there's the spider one," Sandy said, confusing the gang. "What? There's no spider in the zodiac. It's probably just an eight-legged roster-" Tang said as he turned to the floats. "An eight-legged roster, Tang? I don't think they would mess up that bad-" you responded, but you saw the float.
It was a spider float, a machine-like spider with bright purple and green colors. Everyone was shocked and confused about the strange float, the whole parade stopped in its track. "What's happening?" You questioned as you felt your gut turn.  
To be continued.
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POYW Rewrite V2 - Harry Hook x reader - P1
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Music plays as the camera pans on a purple book with a bright red apple pictured on the cover, swirling gold vines and a gold capital D are placed on and around the apple.
The book opens to reveal a tablet, and a purple painted finger swipes up on the tablet to ‘flip the page’-revealing the title of the ‘book’; Descendants.
‘once upon a time-long long ago~’
Naaaah well get to that in a moment, right now! We have some backstory to get into! Meet (y/n)! 16 years old, a Disney fan since she was a baby(sleeping beauty was the shit when she was old enough to remember movies), and now-a huge descendants fan. It’s July 31st, 2017, it’s been 10 days since Descendants 2 had released-and now (y/n) is hunkering down on her couch to watch the first movie again, and then watch D2 again-just for funsies~.
Harry Hook had quickly and easily stolen her heart as soon as he appeared on screen, and she couldn’t wait to start up D2 again. But as the opening credits began to play on her screen-it started to…glitch out, Mal’s voice overpowered by a ‘new’ one, deeper, male-and Scottish.
Before (y/n) could react to it properly-her TV turned to blinding white, the light overwhelming her eyes and living room; something grabbing at her body and tugging her into the screen, the teen was just barely able to grab her phone and bag before she was dragged in screaming to the Descendants world.
What adventures await her there? Only time will tell, for now~ let’s get back to those opening credits-shall we?
Mal; “once upon a time, long long ago-well, more like twenty-” Mal gets shoved over, a crashing noise indicating she hit something hard as someone scrambles to sit on the chair Mal was sitting on, a soft snicker coming from the intruder. Mal; ”Harry?! I was in the middle-“
Harry Hook; “oh shut it pixie-it’s my turn ta narrate! Now go be a bitch somewhere else-anyways~!” Mal storms off in a huff-most likely to complain about Harry to Evie or anyone that would listen. “Twenty years ago, king beasty and his Belle married front’ of all six-thousand of their mates-that’s a big cake hells bells. Anyway! Beasty united all tha’ kingdoms and declared hi’mself king of tha’ united states of boreadon~
He rounded up all tha’ villains, sidekicks, petty thieves, drug dealers, anyone he could think of that was even slightly bad-and booted em’ off ta’ the isle of the lost; with a magic barrier ta’ keep ‘em there.
This is where I live. No magic, no WIFI, no fresh food, and no.way.out….or so we thought~ hol’ up hol’ up, yer about ta’ see me pretty face~ but first-this happened, and ain’t she pretty~ no not belle-the one sitting in the chair behind prince beasty.
Prince Ben stares out to the isle of the lost from his room at Beast castle, so much to do in so little time, and his coronation was in just a month-hardly any time to do all he wanted before he was crowned king. Ben let out a small sigh, catching the eye of his newest and now closest friend, who sat on a comfy chair behind him-doodling away as Ben’s tailor got to work fitting his coronation suit.
“Are you sure this’ll work (y/n)?” Ben asked the girl, who nodded absentmindedly, getting the last details of a certain pirate down before closing her book, and sitting up to give Ben her proper attention. “I’m sure of it, it’s your first royal proclamation, it’s Auradon law for it to pass with no barriers, be it from your parents or the council-we’ve been over this beasty boy, just stand your ground and those kids will be here sooner than you can say codfish.”
Ben let out a small mutter of ‘codfish’ with a teasing smile, laughing as (y/n) took a balled-up sheet of paper and chucked it at him, grinning as it bounced off his head and hit the tailor on the shoulder. He just shook his head at the two teens, standing up to bow as King Beast/Adam and Belle walked into the room-both looking ever so proud of their son.
“How is it you’re going to be crowned king next month!” King Adam exclaimed, looking almost star-struck as Belle, who was walking by her husband's side with her hand tucked into his arm. “You’re just a baby!” Adam insisted, chuckling as Belle stepped away and grabbed some of Ben’s discarded clothes, tossing the shorts in Ben’s hamper and folding the tourney jersey. “He’s turning sixteen dear!” Belle reminded, rolling her eyes fondly as Adam went on.
“That’s far too young to be crowned king!” (y/n) looked up from her sketchpad, looking as if she wanted to say something but shook her head, going back to her doodles. “I didn’t make a good decision till I was at least-forty-two.” Belle looked a bit offended at Adam’s words, narrowing her eyes up at him as Ben smiled in amusement-knowing his mom had a few choice words about his father’s choice of words.
“uh, You decided to marry me, at twenty-eight.” Belle reminded, shaking her head as she made eye contact with Ben as Adam sent a teasing grin down to his wife of 20 years. “it was either you or a teapot.” Belle just glared at him, two seconds away from smacking his shoulder. “kidding.” Adam looked back at Ben with wide eyes and Ben just laughed-knowing his mom still had his dad wrapped around her finger, even after all these years.
Ben glanced back at (y/n), who gave Ben an encouraging smile and he took a deep breath, stepping towards his parents-“mom, dad?” his tailor stopped him, making Ben step back and face his parents on the pedestal. “I’ve chosen my first official proclamation.”
Adam and Belle looked very interested, Adam nodding for Ben to go on. “I’ve decided that the children of the isle of the lost, be given a chance-to live here in Auradon.” Belle’s jaw dropped along with Ben’s shirt-and Adam’s jaw clicked. (y/n) sat up slightly, while she knew Adam wouldn’t hurt Ben, he still had some anger issues and would not let anything happen to her friend who had so graciously let her into his life two months ago.
Ben kept rolling forward, now that he finally got those words out-he wouldn’t stop until he had his first set of VK’s in Auradon. “every time I look out to the island, I feel like they’ve been abandoned.” (y/n) snorted slightly from her spot, thinking that was the understatement of the year. Ben just glanced back at her, making her go silent, knowing it was not the time for jokes.
“The children of our sworn enemies, living among us?” Adam asked, almost like he was trying to convince his son that his proclamation was a stupid idea-a dangerous one. But Ben stood strong, he would not let those kids be punished any longer, not for their parent's crimes. “we start with a few at first, the ones that need our help the most.”
Belle nodded, truly listening to Ben’s idea-he caught that nod and pushed forward-knowing he had his mom’s support-and (y/n)’s. he just needed his dad's. “I’ve already chosen them, I have Auradon guardians signed up to claim them in case anything happens and I’ve already spoken to FG about them being enrolled at Auradon prep.” Adam nodded, it seemed his son already had everything planned out.
“You’ve done all that eh?” Adam muttered, looking down at his son. “And why should we give these-villain kids-a chance?” Belle took Adam ‘s arm, turning him towards her. “I gave you a second chance” Belle reminded Adam that he, was once seen as a villain, a monster-only to be redeemed by the woman before him. she turned to Ben when Adam calmed down. “Who are their parents, and how many?”
“Six,” Ben answered immediately, wringing his hands together slightly. “Two girls and four boys. Cruella De’vil, Jafar, Evil Queen, Captain Hook-“ Ben paused, knowing the last two villains were two his dad would not react well too-especially the latter. “-and Maleficent and Gaston.” Ben rushed out, taking a step back as Adam stepped forward-his voice rising and scaring the tailor who quickly bowed out.
(y/n) planted her feet on the floor.
“Maleficent?! Gaston!? They are the worst villains known to us!” Ben held his hands up, trying to get his father to calm down “Dad-just hear me out here-“ Ben pleaded, closing his eyes for a moment as Adam lifted his hand to point at the isle through the window. “I won't hear of it! They are guilty of unspeakable crimes-Gaston tried to murder me and take your mother! You really want to invite his-spawn-to our kingdom?!”
“They have done nothing wrong!” Ben insisted, finding his voice and overpowering his fathers “They have done nothing to us to condemn them to the isle! Gaston yes-he deserves to be there-but his kids? The other kids? They’ve done nothing wrong! Nothing except being born to those who have wronged us-they’re innocent in the eyes of the law and to me.” Ben straightened out, lifting his chin as he stared his father down. “This is my proclamation dad. And as future king, it is my duty to do what I think is right for my people-that includes the people of the isle. And it’s right to give those kids a chance.”
Adam and Ben held each other's stares for a moment, then Adam stepped away-nodding. “I suppose the children are innocent,” he admitted-he simply didn’t want to admit he had condemned children to a life of imprisonment-but his son would right his wrongs even if Adam never did. Adam turned and walked away, straightening his suit as Belle took Ben’s collar and fixed it-giving him a proud grin. “well done.” She whispered, turning to her husband and leading him out of the room “shall we?”
Ben let out the biggest sigh of relief as he stumbled back, holding his chest as (y/n) clapped from her chair, setting her sketchbook aside as she joined Ben at the window; clapping her hand on his shoulder. “Well done beasty boy, well done. You sure we can't get one more kid? From Yensid’s notes-Hook, Gaston, and Ursula’s kids are all quite close-It’d be a shame to pull them apart?”  (y/n) asked, not wanting to separate the three pirates, but Ben shook his head sadly. “you heard the council, even numbers, No more-no less. besides-I only got six guardians to sign up, one for each kid.” (y/n) let out a raspberry, crossing her ankles as Ben gazed out towards the isle, playing with his class ring as he remembered the purple haired girl with emerald green eyes from his dreams.
“Well, what are we waitin’ for?” (y/n) asked, pushing Ben towards his closet. “get changed! We gotta get those letters to the isle!” Ben grinned with a nod, taking his fitting jacket off and tossing the stack of letters to (y/n), who slipped out of his room to wait for him to get changed.
It was time to invite the villain kids to Auradon.
-
Two days later: the isle of the lost-the wharf.  A rough punk-like dubstep beat echoes as the camera flies through the isle of the lost-through the wharf marketplace place-through tattered sails and broken lamps-to find Ursula’s chip shop.
It zooms in to show a petite black girl with long teal and aqua braids, a nasty grin on her lips as she tosses a tray onto the table-which was the wrong order for the customer she delivered it to-as they complained, the girl ignored them, instead throwing the tray up in their face and pointing at the sign that said ‘you take it how we make it’ with a rough cackle.
Uma; They say I’m trouble-they say I’m bad-they say I’m evil~ and that makes me glad!”
Uma, the daughter of Ursula, grabs an empty tray and throws it into the kitchen, disrupting the work and making a crashing noise as Uma laughs and throws her apron away-leaving the chip shop after retrieving her sword. Her mother yelled after her-a set of tentacles snapping after Uma-curling away as Uma disappeared down the wharf.
Gil; A dirty no good-down the bone.
 Gil, the son of Gaston, leaped between building gaps, a small group of teens chasing after him-yelling for him to give back their loot. Gil just grinned, making sure his bag of new loot was secure before disappearing behind the wharf fence-leaving the group behind-who had thought Gil was helping them steal from the market place.
Gil; Your worst nightmare-can’t take me home!”
Harry Hook, son of Captain Hook, strut through the wharf marketplace-pirates and others alike backing away in fear of the young pirate-fear for the glint in his eye and the sharpness in his grin. He snatched jewelry and whatever he could see as he walked through-a giggle escaping him as he pocketed several rings.
Harry; So I’ve got some mischief~ in me blood-can ya blame me? I never got no love~”
Harry blew a kiss to a younger girl with dark red hair-who giggled and hid her flushing face behind her bangs. It was no secret that many girls, and boys-of the isle had a crush on Harry-but he had yet to find a spark with anyone-other than with his friend Uma-who he would defy the gods for. Harry laughed to himself, dipping beneath a rail and grinning as he saw Uma; greeting her with his hook as they always did.
Gonzo-a member of the wharf rats-Harry’s crew of misfits-bolted through the wharf-a bedazzled jacked in hand as Bonnie-another crew member-laughed as she ran behind him, holding several handfuls of good loot.
Gonzo; They say im callous.” Bonnie; a lowlife hood~ I feel so useless”
Bonnie stole a half-eaten week stale donut from a younger pirate as she bolted by them, cackling as she and Gonzo disappeared into the wharf, meeting up with Gil, Uma, and Harry as they ran about causing chaos.  
Gonzo/Bonnie; Misunderstood!”
Uma and Harry grinned at each other as they walked on the highest set of the wharf, laughing as they watched their wharf rats cause chaos and steal all they wanted.
Uma/Harry; Mirror mirror, on the wall-who’s the baddest-of them all? Welcome to my wicked world-wicked world!
The pirates burst into a pillow factory and ripped it apart, feathers, fluff, and fur flying everywhere as the pirates cackled and jumped about-enraging the workers as they had fun. They made all the noise they could as they ran out of the factory-Harry scraping his hook along the metal pipes as they ran.
Pirates; I’m rotten to the core, Rotten to the core-I’m rotten to the core! Who could ask for more-I’m nothing like the kid next-like the kid next door! I’m rotten to the core-rotten to the-I’m rotten to the core!
The camera pans away from the laughing pirates, focusing on Harry and Gil before zooming towards the main isle market-revealing a girl with shoulder-length purple hair and a snarky grin-holding a spray paint can. The daughter of Maleficent.
Mal; Call me a schemer-call me a freak-how can you say that?! Im just-unique!”
Mal spray painted a large purple M on a shower sheet-pushing it aside and giving a falsely sweet grin to a passing isle inhabitant who ran away in fear. Mal laughed, spotting her ‘friend’ Evie and running over to meet her-who was pushing through the clothing section of the marketplace-pocketing things she liked.
Jay; What, me a traitor? Ain’t got your back? Are we not friends?! What's up with that!?”
Jay, son of Jafar, dropped into the marketplace from the panels above, hanging from the support beams as he flipped over to the floor and landed in front of two people enjoying some tea. He took the bronze teapot and politely poured them their tea, they smiled and thanked him-yelping as he leaped over the table with the pot and ran off, cackling as he did.
Evie; So I’m a misfit~ so I’m a flirt~ I broke your heart? I made you hurt?
Evie, daughter of the evil queen, strut through the fabric of the clothing section of the marketplace-Mal close behind as Evie grinned and stole a scarf from one of the shoppers, winking as he stared after her-in awe of the young princess as she disappeared within the fabrics, Mal laughing as she followed the blue-haired princess away from the market.
Carlos; The past is past~ forgive forget! The truth is, you ain’t seen nothing yet!”
Carlos, son of Cruella De’vil, casually strolled on top of the tables on the outskirts of the marketplace, knocking over baskets of apples and other goods as shop keeps and customers alike yelled at him to get down. He just laughed, knocking over another basket of apples and dropping a smaller basket on a woman's head-tossing some hay at her as he hitched a ride on a cart.
Mal/Evie; mirror mirror, on the wall-who’s the baddest-of them all? Welcome to my wicked world-wicked world!
Mal and Evie smiled down at Carlos and Jay as the boys caused some havoc in the market's bakery, laughing as Jay knocked over a near-empty bucket of flour and Carlos began to pull at a crane-like mechanic-Jay leaping on for the ride and laughing as Carlos pulled him along.
The vks flooded the streets and wharf, bouncing and weaving between pirates and villagers-laughing as they disrupted the peace. The pirates danced with their swords as Mal and her gang banged their heads and stomped their feet.
VK’s ; I’m rotten to the core-core, Rotten to the core-I’m rotten to the core-core, Who could ask for more? I’m nothing like the kid next-like the kid next door! I’m rotten to the-I’m rotten to the-I’m rotten to the core~”
Harry fixed his hat as he and the wharf rats showed off their stolen loot, Harry eyeing the cracked ruby necklace he had snatched from the market-it looked expensive and still in good condition, he could resell it for a high price-or get that Tremaine brat to repurpose it for him-maybe make himself a new ring.
Harry’s grin widened as he noticed a passing kid with a candy apple-he snatched it up and pushed the kid away as they cried, holding up the apple in victory as his crew laughed with him. Uma rolled her eyes, mostly out of fondness as she took a seat on a nearby barrel, playing with her teal and red beaded bracelet as Harry tried to eat his new prize. But isle candy apples were more like actual rocks instead of candy. “a candy apple, stolen from a kid, truly you are the embodiment of evil Harry.” Uma teased, grinning sharply as he pointed his hook at her, a glint in her eye that always made her giddy.
“Ah~ Uma~ ye know this is only tha’ beginning of me evil plans, first-a candy apple-then!” Gil interrupted Harry, a habit Gil had that he had never been able to kick-he interrupted a lot of people actually, and got in himself in trouble quite a bit for saying before thinking. “the candy store?” Gil asked, looking giddy at the thought of stealing from a whole candy store.
Harry just stared at Gil blankly as the crew snickered softly, Uma rolling her eyes again. “I was goin’ ta say the world, Gil.” Harry said, his shoulders slumping in disappointment in Gil’s lack of want for world domination-he’d rather eat all the eggs in the world than take it over.
As Harry talked to his friends, the crew all froze and stared down the wharf-two men walking towards them. Harry noticed his crew’s frozen expressions and went to ask them what the fuck they were doing-when he realized why they froze. Harry swallowed, dropping his shoulders and head as his father, captain Hook-came strutting towards him-his scarlet red coat flowing behind him and his icy blue eyes shaded by his large captain's hat.
Harry glanced at Uma-who held his stare-worry deep in her eyes. Visits from his father were never good news, and never ended well for Harry.
“Stealing apple’s boy? How-juvenile.” James sneered, hooking the apple and taking it from Harry’s hand. Harry winced, shuffling on his feet. “It was from a lost boy?” Harry said meekly, his loud personality always seemed to disappear around his father. James just rose his brow, tossing away the candy apple, landing in the dirt; ants quickly covering the hard caramel.
“not a real lost boy, they’re all on neverland” James sneered again, reaching out with his right hand and taking Harry’s shoulder-the teen flinching at the action-his father’s eyes were glinting oddly again-flashes of red circling within the ocean blue. Harry stayed quiet-knowing if he talked it wouldn’t end well. “ah! Speaking of-“ Harry was turned in his father’s hold, James’ hook pointed out towards Auradon that lay across the sea.
Harry blinked-wondering what the hell was going on-seeing Gaston talking to Gil-Gil looking…very confused as always. His father continued speaking-demanding Harry’s attention. “-Neverland, will soon be ours!” Harry furrowed his brows, looking at his father. “what do ye mean?” Harry asked, leaning back as his father got into his face.
“A chance to freedom boy, a chance to reclaim what is ours-you-along with-“ James gestured to Gil, who still seemed to struggle with what Gaston was explain. “what's his face-have been invited to attend a new school-in Auradon!”
Harry ripped away from his father's grasp-hearing Uma and his crew’s gasps of surprise as Harry shook his head wildly. “What?! hell no!” Harry snapped, crossing his arms stubbornly, anger overpowering his fear for a moment. “I ain't going ta’ no boarding school with-pathetic spoiled princes and snooty pink princesses!? What would tha’ point be? Learn how ta sip tea?” Harry huffed, tensing as his father used his hook to grab his collar-bringing him closer to James’ face.
“The wand. Boy.” James hissed, his eyes flashing red. “the wand. With it you-will free me, us. And then-we retake neverland-then-we claim the world and all its riches-That. Is the point. Understand?”
Harry just nodded, then he frowned-turning back towards Uma-was it just going to be him and Gil? what about Uma?  “what about Um-“ Harry nearly asked if his oldest friend was coming along, but was quickly silenced with his chin being grabbed. Harry swallowed harshly-losing his voice as he stared into his father's eyes.
“You get the wand, you not only free me and your sisters-but your little sea witch friend as well. Is that not good enough?” Harry nodded, squeaking a little as he spoke. “Yes sir,” Harry rubbed his jaw as it was realized-his father walking back towards his ship as Gil finally arrived at the station.
“Pack your things, boys, you leave for Auradon in two hours.” Gil and Harry’s jaw dropped, staring wide-eyed at their fathers as they walked away as if they hadn’t just dropped the biggest life-changing news in their lives. “what?!” Harry yelped, feeling Uma’s hands on his arm as his father gave no further information, instead just turning and glaring at him.
“Boy!” Harry pressed his lips together, sharing a look with Uma before slowly following after his father, his head dropping between his shoulders as Gil went to follow Gaston to their house.
At least his father hadn’t come to tell Harry to get to ‘work’, he’d take randomly going to Auradon over ‘working’ any day.
-
“So you’re both leaving without me, eh?” Uma asked quietly as she sat on Harry’s bed-watching as he packed his things-he was going to only pack maybe a week's worth of clothes-but James told him to practically move out-as they wouldn’t be coming back to the isle after Harry got the wand.
“Not forever, we’ll be back fer ye.” Harry said with a smile, one only reserved for his best friend. “I promise Uma, I would never leave ye behind-as soon as I get tha’ wand, I’ll get ye and me sisters off-with our own ship-and we’ll rule the seas-like we planned.” Harry reached out, taking Uma’s clenched hand, smiling down at her as she looked up at him from behind her lashes.
She smiled, standing and hugging him, a moment just between them-friends since they could remember. They stayed like that for a moment, before they heard James stomping around on the deck-yelling at his crew. They pulled apart, holding each other's stare before Uma took out a gold bracelet made of hardened seashells she had collected from the isle shores. “here, something for you two, for good luck.” Uma mumbled; Harry held out his left hand to let her slip it on.
“I have one for Gil as well,” She handed him the 2nd bracelet for him to give to Gil, showing off her matching set that sat on her right wrist. Harry had to hide his smile, knowing Uma would get flustered if she knew how much he loved them, she always did when he complimented her crafts. Such as her pirate hat-or any of her outfits.
“Boy! Hurry it up!” Harry and Uma jumped at the sound of James' voice, and Harry hurried to pack up the rest of his things-throwing on his red leather jacket and grabbing his hook-zipping up his bags and making his way out of his room-Harriet, his older sister, taking his duffle bag from him. “I can carry it myself,” Harry muttered, but let her carry it. Then he, Uma, Harriet-and their little sister-Cj, all followed his dad off the jolly roger and towards the center of the isle.
“uuuh da?” Harry asked, his brows furrowing as Bargain castle, the home of Maleficent herself, came closer as they walked. “Why are we goin’ ta Bargain castle?” his father didn’t bother to glance at him-only clicking his tongue. “I suppose I forgot to mention it-it’s not just you and Gaston’s boy going to Auradon-Maleficent’s spawn and her crew will be going as well.”
Harry stopped in his tracks, a look and feeling of disgust and anger bubbling up. “oh fuck no,” Harry cursed, shaking his head and pointing at the castle, Uma sharing his same look of disgust at the thought of Mal. “I’m not going anywhere-or working with tha’ dragon bitch or her goons-not in a million years!”
His father sighed, one that meant danger, and turned-curling his lip as he spoke “I didn’t say you had to work with her-nor get along. The six of you are simply all going to the same place-I wouldn’t expect you to work with anyone but Gaston’s boy anyway-why let that brat get all the credit? This is a job for pirates after all.” With that-his father continued into the castle, passing up the lower floor clothing shop and ascending the stairs-Harriet, CJ, and Uma were forced to stay below as Maleficent’s knuckleheads stopped them.
“Guess we’ll see ye before ya go off,” Harriet muttered, handing him his back and patting his shoulder. “Don’t blow this, got it?” Harry nodded, pushing CJ away as she faked a sob and tried to hug him, cackling as he pushed her away. “Stop tryin’ ta steal me shit.” Harry grumbled as CJ continued to try to grab his wallet.
“But I must have something to remember you by!” CJ cried dramatically, reaching for his new gold shell bracelet now. “how else will I get by while you’re gone?!” Harry just rolled his eyes, pushing her off him for the last time.
“you’ll live ye lil shit-n stop talkin’ like da’, ye sound like a nut.” With that, Harry made his way into the castle-Gil and Gaston right behind him. Harry slipped Gil his bracelet-showing off his own when Gil looked a bit confused at it. “From Uma, just wait ta’ put it on after we leave-so yer dad doesn’t blow his shit.” Harry muttered, knowing how Gaston felt about jewelry-even if it was painted with gold. Gil nodded, pocketing his new bracelet in his thigh bag and setting his two large bags at the door as the two teens and Gaston entered the main room.
Mal looked absolutely thrilled to see them, turning to her mother with seething eyes. “what are they-” she pointed at them, almost baring her teeth at them as Harry glared back, his hooked hand twitching with the want to pin her to the Jolly Rodger. “-doing here!? you said-“
“I said you for and two others Malsy, now put your listening ears on my nasty girl.” Maleficent tapped Mal’s nose-causing Mal to screech and continue to complain about Harry and Gil. Harry snatched a vile of black nail polish while the two dark fairies bitched at each other.
Harry and Gil were forced to stand with Mal and her ‘friends’ as Maleficent finally silenced Mal’s screeching and sat down on her ‘throne’, filing her nails as she went through the details of her evil plot for the six teens. “You will go, you will find the fairy godmother, and you will bring me back her magic wand!” she blew her nails, winking at her daughter with a nasty smirk. “easy peasy!”
“what's in it for us?” Mal asked, and Harry was actually surprised to hear that-us? As in more than just Mal? That was surprising. Mal never cared about anybody other than herself. “Matching thrones? Hers-and-hers crowns?” Maleficent cooed-assuming Mal meant her in Mal’s ‘us’ talk. “I think she means us?” Carlos said, gesturing between him and Mal, and Mal nodded-gesturing between the four of them, completely ignoring Harry and Gil.
Maleficent just tossed her nail fire and beckoned Mal closer-who obeyed like always. Harry rolled his eyes, inviting Gil to sit at the back of the room near the balcony, plopping down on the ratty old black couch stained with purple and green.
As Maleficent chattered off to her daughter, Harry and Gil practically zoned out, not caring for what was going around them at the moment-well, Harry zoned out, Gil was bouncing his legs and looking everywhere he could-remembering everything to the last detail.
“And with that wand and my scepter-I will be able to bend both good and evil to my will!” Maleficent exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air in a dramatic gesture. EQ quickly shot down Maleficent’s solo act with a sneer and quick words. “Our will.” Cruella pointed at EQ, nodding as Jafar looked up at those words-giving Maleficent a look of disappointment for the fae already forgetting their deal.
“Our will, our will,” Maleficent waved the notion off-snapping to regain Mal’s attention. Harry went back to ignoring them, letting his head fall back and his eyes close-knowing Gil would nudge him if anything happened.
The villains all started to chatter away, EQ giving Evie a small lesson on princes and mirrors(no smiling, wrinkles!), Cruella forbidding Carlos from leaving, giving the pup hope that his mom would actually miss him for loving reasons(she just needed someone to scrape her feet-gross), and Jafar needing Jay to stay to stock his shop’s shelves(half of which Harry stole from only to sell back, but that was Jafar’s whole business).
Harry peeked as Jay started to take the loot he had scored that day, ending with a bronze lap that Jafar dropped everything for and started to rub-only for Jay to mutter that he already tried. The lamp now boring, Jafar scoffed and threw the object back at Jay, which nearly hit him in the face if he hadn't leaned back to catch it.
“Well, Evie’s not going anywhere till we get rid of this unibrow,” EQ muttered, taking a pair of tweezers and plucking the offending hair from Evie’s forehead-to which Harry wasn’t even sure there was a hair there-Evie’s brows were practically perfect.
“what is wrong with you all?! people used to cower at the mention of our names!!!” Maleficent screeched, taking Mal and throwing her from the stairs to the table, Mal slammed her hands on the surface to regain her balance as she stared wide-eyed at Carlos, who shared her expression as the grown villains all stared at Maleficent.
Hook and Gaston looked offended, as they hadn’t been against Maleficent’s plan nor had they plans to keep their boys here. “For twenty years, I have searched for a way off this island-for twenty years, they have robbed us from our revenge!” she turned to EQ, and began to list off the revenge the villains’ felt they deserved. “Revenge on snow white and her horrible little men.” EQ just grimaced as Evie plucked a hair, looking a bit offended for her mother as Maleficent continued on.
“Revenge on Aladdin and his bloated Genie!” Jafar puffed up, going to attack Maleficent with his spoon in anger as she spoke of his worst enemies-only for Jay to stop him. “Revenge on those sneaky dalmatians-who escaped your clutches!” Cruella cackled, shaking her head as she pet the stuffed dalmatian puppy that sat on her shoulder-Carlos hiding behind her to protect himself from Maleficent.
“Oh but they didn’t get the baby~ but-but they didn’t get the baby!“ she laughed manically-causing Maleficent to back away in concern as Cruella continued to cackle about her stuffed toy. Maleficent turned to Gaston- “Revenge on Beast and his belle.” Gil shivered at the look of darkness on his father's face-knowing what he intended to do if he got revenge-and it wasn’t pretty for Belle. “Revenge on Pan and his lost boys!”
Hook’s eyes turned red and Harry shuffled towards Gil, glancing away as he crossed his arms. He hated when that happened-it always hurt when his father's eyes went red-he had the scars to prove it. “and I! Maleficent! The evilest of them all~” Maleficent purred, sitting on EQ’s lap and stealing her mirror, admiring herself in it. “will finally get revenge, on sleeping beauty…and her relentless little prince.” Maleficent hissed, turning back to the villains.
“Villains!” they all snapped to attention, Jafar swallowing the food he had been making in the small kitchen of Maleficent’s flat. “yes?” Maleficent smiled, one that made all the teens shiver-they hated that smile-even Mal. “Our day has come~ EQ?” the old queen hummed, taking the small mirror as Maleficent handed it back to her, looking towards Evie as she got off EQ’s lap “give her the magic mirror.”
Evie was handed a handheld mirror-cracked at the edges and missing some pieces. Evie looked disappointed. “This is your magic mirror?” Evie asked, admiring herself in the broken glass. EQ just hummed, nodding. “Well, it ain't what it used to be, then again- neither are we?” EQ joked, laughing with Maleficent. “But it will help you find things,” Evie’s eyes lit up and she interrupted her mother in her excitement. “Like a prince~!” EQ chuckled, glancing up at Maleficent “Like my waist line-“ she joked, laughing still as Maleficent groaned and rolled her eyes-wanting to get to the point already. “like the magic wand-hello?”
EQ pursed her lips and nodded, agreeing they had gotten off track. “My spell book, my book-I need my-that book” Maleficent turned as EQ snapped her fingers and pointed back at the fridge-which Maleficent deemed her ‘safe’. Harry blinked, watching as the mistress of all evil struggled with a damn refrigerator. Mal just looked embarrassed, her ears turning pink as her friends and shrimpy’s boys saw her mother make a fool of herself.
“Queen help me! I can never figure this thing out!” as EQ helped Maleficent, Hook grabbed Harry’s shoulder and dragged him towards the balcony, giving the two some privacy. “da?” Harry asked quietly, unsure of what he wanted, his brow’s furrowing as his father handed him a large blank piece of paper that folded over itself multiple times. “A piece of paper?” Harry flipped it over, opening it and then turning it over twice more. “A blank piece of paper?”
James rolled his eyes, tapping his hook on the paper that looked and felt very old. “Not just any piece of paper, this map-like the mirror-is magical, I’ve only used it a handful of times myself-but as I say-any good pirate knows how to read and use a map.” Harry just stared at his dad, closing the blank paper and licking his lips. Was his dad having another episode?
“This?” Harry held up the re-folded map. “is a map?” James nodded, tapping the map again with his hook. “yes, magic. It doesn’t work here, but it will in Auradon. It’ll give you a detailed map of wherever you are, nicked it from some magic school in Scotland about forty years ago.” Harry slowly nodded, pocketing the map and grabbing his backpack as a horn sounded from outside. James grabbed his neck and Harry froze, his breath stopping with him as James muttered in his ear the password and lock to the map. Along with a threat.
“if you fail me, you will never see your sisters or sea witch again. Understand?” Harry nodded, swallowing down his fear. “Good. Go.” Harry bolted off, grabbing his bags as he and Gil raced down the stairs and back out into the main square-where a long black car was waiting for them.
Harry let out a whistle, handing his bag to the driver and bumping his sisters goodbye, squeezing Uma’s hand with a hidden smile before he and Gil slid into the car. “Tell me smee’s I’ll be back before they know it.” Harry called out to Harriet-who nodded, backing up as Evie and Carlos ran out-the pup jumping into the limo to avoid his mother who was screeching at him.
Carlos tumbled to the floor, hitting Harry’s legs and grunting as Gil lifted him into the seat next to him-Evie and Jay climbing in after Carlos. Jay and Harry glared at each other, making Evie and Gil sigh as the two thieves had a small stare-off. “Oh quit it,” Mal snapped as she slid into the limo, taking her spot at the end of the seats next to Evie. “Go flirt somewhere else-I do not have the stomach to watch you two make eyes.” Harry and Jay sputtered, Jay’s cheeks going red as Harry rolled his eyes, catching Uma’s gaze as she stared at him and Gil. Harry offered what he hoped was a comforting grin-jolting as the car began to move-leaving the isle-and Uma, behind.
Uma watched as her only friends drove off without her, her fingers playing with her golden bracelet as Harriet and CJ stood with her-the three staring as the limo disappeared from view.
“Please don’t forget about me,” Uma whispered, feeling a small pit of dread in her gut as the barrier flashed gold.
-end of p1-
Here it is~! P1 of the Rewrite revise! Again-just doing D1 since im happy with D2 and 3~!
Taglist!
@sephiralorange @queer-cosette @lunanight2012
@musicarose @daughter-of-the-stars11 @random-thoughts-004
@anythingbutmar @dai-tsukki-desu @imtryingthisout
@rintheemolion @remembered-license @thecaptainsgingersnap
@thetrueghostqueen @littlewierdalien
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thereallybadidea · 2 months
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Things about Alastor in season 1 I haven't seen anyone talk about:
~S1 spoilers ahead~
1. He never interjects in anyone else's parts in the songs he's in. He sings smoothly and doesn't get distracted while others try to interrupt or yell at him. It gives the impression that he's always put together and never bothered. The closest he gets is asking Lucifer to butt out of his song, which is the most rattled we see until the finale.
2. In Hells Greatest Dad, he sings the line about least resistance after stacking things on to Charlie to carry just to show he can "fix" the issue. In the next section, Luci shows Charlie he can help with angelic power, but didn't do anything to inconvenience her to begin with.
3. He seems to be fine when things go wrong, almost as if he's predicting the outcome and tailoring it to suit him. I think the first episode shows this with how he agreed to help film the advert, but didn't have to have it air properly because it got interrupted. But it's really clear with Mimzy: when she arrives, he's really welcoming, showing off by being a good host in front of everyone. He knows she's going to bring trouble, so he blows off Husk when he tries to warn him. Then he goes and defends the hotel in a very showy way. It's only when he's kicking Mimzy out that he does it quietly away from everyone. Yes, he did say she can stay if she's actually looking for redemption, but he knew she wouldn't, which goes against him saying earlier that she should get settled in and it would look terrible if he was kicking out someone who came to him for help. She also implies he would never care about the hotel and that could raise questions about his loyalty.
4. For an overlord, he sure doesn't make any soul-bargaining deals in the whole season. Vox instantly picks up that he's getting nice and close with the princess of Hell, probably to make a deal with her. And at the one perfect opportunity, he doesn't do it. It's bad timing and would be a hard sell, even with his charisma, but I think he actually isn't allowed to. He might own Husk, but I think as part of his 7 year hiatus and whatever deal he made, it was stipulated that he can't make any new deals for souls. He *wants* to be all-powerful and souls = power, but he's constrained by his deal.
5. If black eyes means someone sold their soul and red eyes means they own a soul, the fact that Alastor's eyes are only black when he's in a demonic form might mean, like Angel Dust, he's only controlled by his deal under certain conditions. He has powers beyond the usual and I think it might be from deals he made while he was still alive.
Basically, I think he's a lot more evil than he appears at first glance. He schemes and controls his public image and reputation like a fanatic. And then everything works out for him. The ONLY time we've seen him lose is in the final fight. And I think his breakdown in the finale is actually a hurt ego thing, not because he's tied to an insanely cruel contract like AD.
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oumaheroes · 1 year
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Does France ever get back at England after the events of An Unfortunate Reminder? Did he give him hickeys as well? Lol what was France's revenge?
He did indeed! This is part 2 of @needcake's wonderful prompts: '2) Engportfra - platonic foot-holding'
A Social Mishap
Characters: England, France, Portugal/ EngPortFra
Part two of An Unfortunate Reminder
--------
When Gabriel finds Arthur, sat alone in the middle of the restaurant by the window, he sees that he's about to leave.
The restaurant is full- packed on a Friday night with people dressed to the nines- and there’s even a live band playing discreetly in the corner. Something light, something old. Gabriel’s coat is taken from him smoothly as soon as he steps properly through the door and, he thinks as he smooths back his hair and wipes away the damp feel of rain from it, this is probably one of the nicest places he’s been to in years. Reminiscent of something he didn’t realise was falling out of fashion until it was far too late to appreciate it properly.
Arthur has his back to entrance so Gabriel can’t see his face but he knows, from knowing Arthur as long as he has, that by the tense, back set of his shoulders and the flush on his ears he is furious. He can almost hear his feet tapping under the table.
Smiling at the seating staff- sim, he is quite alright, thank you- Gabriel winds his way through the other tables and patrons to get to him quickly and lays a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it through his blazer to calm him when he starts in surprise.
‘Is this seat free?’
Arthur turns to stare up at him. He’s well dressed like everyone else here: smart navy suit and tie with a crisp white shirt that looks newly ironed. The outfit is well-tailored to him, blazer nipped in at the waist to show him slender. Gabriel misses the eras when Arthur would cloak himself in the deepest of reds, the greediest of magpies loose on the seas, but he cleans up well in these modern calm blues. And there, quietly glinting in low yellow light, are still studs in his ear, little hints to personality cresting under the etiquette.
‘Gabe?‘ Arthur blinks, ‘What are you doing here?’ Surprise washes away his anger entirely, leaving only confusion and the briefest, tiniest, flash of relief that is very quickly hidden away.
‘I’m here for dinner.’ Gabriel slides himself into the chair opposite and smiles around at the people on the nearest tables to them, who glance their way curiously out of the corner of their eyes. When Gabriel speaks, he speaks more for their benefit than for Arthur’s, ‘Sorry that I’m so late; have you been here long?’
Arthur frowns and the press of his lips grows tighter, ‘What’s going on.’
‘I’m here for dinner, of course.’
‘Gabe.’
‘Am I not allowed to join you for dinner?’
‘Gabe.’
Gabriel lowers his voice and leans in closer, ‘I overheard Antonio earlier, talking to Francis on the phone.’
Arthur’s expression darkens, ‘Ah.’
‘Hmm.’ Gabriel hooks an ankle around Arthur’s under the table. Arthur doesn’t move. ‘Something about you two supposed to be going for a meal together this evening?’
‘That was the plan.’ Arthur takes a stiff drink of what looks to be wine, the bottle opened and kept cool in ice which hides the label- it is generous of him. The menu shows some very nice rums that Gabriel knows Arthur would have much preferred and the wine now only serves as a slowly warming olive branch. ‘I was supposed to meet him here.’
‘That’s what I heard. The trouble is, I caught Antonio discussing this with Francis not too long ago. He seemed to find something about that funny.’
Arthur nods once, his expression sour, ‘I see. So, you’re only here-’
‘I’m here to have dinner.’ Gabriel takes Arthur’s hand, his thumb running over the dry skin of his knuckles, ‘With you. I had been disappointed that we might not get the chance before either of us go back home, and thought that this was a wonderful opportunity that Francis has given us.’
A small smile lifts the corners of Arthur’s mouth. He snorts and the tightness of his shoulders loosens, ‘He does have his rare moments.’
‘Did he pre-book with his card?’
‘He’s not that foolish.’
‘Shame.’
‘I know. It’s French this place, too.’ Arthur wrinkles his nose and Gabriel chuckles.
A waiter hovers nearby, obviously pleased, or at least interested, that someone else has finally joined the table and Gabriel shakes his head for him to wait a moment. Picking up a menu, he taps the table with the edge, ‘I suppose you’ve done something recently that explains this?’
‘Explain what.’
‘This.’ Dining alone, Francis nowhere to be seen. Overtly catty for them, this decade at least.
‘No.’ Arthur says immediately. Then- ‘Maybe. But not intentionally.’
Gabriel looks at him.
Arthur takes another sip of wine. He has the grace to look somewhat abashed, ‘Maybe intentionally.’
Gabriel snorts and decides that he is better off not knowing.
The restaurant chatters around them. Arthur shifts and runs his fingers along his collar, smooths down his suit- a repetitive calming gesture that Gabriel imagines he’s done many times this evening under curious or pitying stares. This trick was particularly cruel of Francis. Of all the tortures, of all the ways to make him suffer, to make Arthur feel small and unwanted whilst the rest of the world watches is still the way to hurt him the most.
‘It’s Francis’ loss,’ Gabriel says with his eyes on the menu, tallying up the prices to the promised meal, ‘It looks exactly like what he’d actually enjoy.’
‘Rather than just enjoy slagging it off the whole time, you mean?’
Gabriel pouts, ‘He’s so loud.’
Arthur laughs. He leans across the table and pulls down Gabriel’s menu to point out what he’s having and Gabriel catches a hint of the aftershave he’s wearing. Arthur has tried this evening- the signs of a guilty conscience or a hopeful heart- and this makes Gabriel both sad and annoyed to realise. Exactly why, he chooses not to explore.
They just finish placing their order when Gabriel notices movement approach their table, someone focused on specifically them as soon as they step through the door.
‘What a nice surprise.’ Francis’ voice is low, warm silk. He appears from behind Arthur’s shoulder, also very well dressed for the occasion, and presses a kiss to his cheek before moving to greet Gabriel similarly, ‘I find two friends instead of one.’
‘Fuck you.’
‘Arthur, darling, not in public.’ Francis raises an eyebrow at a waiter after catching her attention and indicates with his head to their table. A chair materialises in seconds and Francis settles into it, shrugging off his coat all smiles to be hung away in a flutter of quick professional hands.
‘Oh, have you ordered?’ He looks disappointed.
Arthur scowls and drags the poor wine out from its bucket. Away from Francis, Gabriel notes, ‘Go away.’
‘That’s not very nice.’
Francis yelps suddenly, his polite veneer cracking to a hiss as he leans to press a hand to his, presumably, recently abused shin. Gabriel delicately rearranges the table.
‘Why must you be this way?’
‘Why are you here.’
‘We had a dinner date, did we not?’
‘Yes,’ Arthur’s cheeks flush red once again, ‘An hour ago.’
Francis tuts and smooths some hair back behind his ears, ‘Yes, I did think you were dragging on a bit.’
Arthur stops, ‘What?’
‘Rather desperate of you to wait so long. I thought you had more self-respect than-‘
Arthur stands up in a screech of chair on tile, ‘Fuck you. Bastard.’
‘Arthur, wait,’ Francis grabs his arm and Gabriel begins to feel, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, that he’s been caught up in this intentionally somehow. As if he’s fallen into the role of unseen observer to their ongoing dance, ‘We’re even.’
Arthur hesitates.
Francis clears his throat and brushes his hand lightly somewhere around his collarbone, as if a hair has caught there or his clothes are irritating him. He pats it.
Arthur sits down. His cheeks are red, ‘We’re even.’
‘Good!’ Francis claps his hands together, looking smug, and scoots his chair in closer, ‘Now, let me recommend you-‘
‘No.’
Francis looks to Gabriel from Arthur in exasperation. Gabriel chuckles and gives him a one-armed shrug, ‘We’ve already ordered.’
‘Alas. It will be to your loss.’
A pregnant silence. Gabriel looks to Arthur, who shoots him a look in return that Gabriel could read several different ways and half of them suggest something illegal.
‘I was always going to come, you know.’ Francis offers to the table from behind his menu, ‘I was in the coffee shop over the road, keeping an eye on you.’
‘Stalker.’
Francis swats Arthur lightly on the arm without looking up, ‘It’s true, I-‘
Gabriel pushes his chair back an inch gently. They both stop to look at him, Francis still holding the menu with a page half turned. Gabriel smiles, ‘I think that I’m going to head back.’
‘What?’ Arthur sits up straighter, ‘Whatever for?’
There are many things that Gabriel could say. He doesn’t know which emotion to use to help him: that he feels foolish, suddenly, here dressed up and uninvited. That he feels embarrassed to have become entangled in this, in them, in what is and has always been their way of things. Even feeling unneeded and redundant, his initial goal now fulfilled. There were always too many rules when Francis got near Arthur, unwritten expectations that extended outwards and around them both.
‘I’m tired,’ he settles on, which is still partly true. Together they are always tiring.
Arthur eyes him, looking between each of Gabriel’s eyes and then down to his hands. One is a fist on the table. He relaxes it, places it on his lap.
‘I’m not allowing you to, I’m afraid,’ Francis hooks Gabriel’s ankle under the table, ‘You’re too good of company to lose and there is far too much I want to talk to you about.’
‘Oh really?’
Francis heaves a dramatic sigh and drops his menu, ‘Yes. My God, Lovino has been driving me insane. It’s something to do with Lars which of course I’m never going to learn about from him.’
Francis plucks the wine bottle from the bucket and tops up Gabriel’s drink continuing to reveal whatever drama he suspects to be brewing. As he talks, Gabriel feels Arthur’s foot wind around the one Francis hasn’t already taken, the tip of his shoe smoothing over the bone in his ankle. Gabriel catches his eye and Arthur moves to deliberately pin his toes in place.
He raises an eyebrow at him. Arthur smiles back, something warm and hopeful in his expression.
‘You owe me,’ he says, pushing his chair closer, and Arthur chuckles.
‘I’m sure you must owe me for something.’
‘Hmm, not after last mont-‘
‘Excuse me. Please do pay attention, the both of you. I loathe to repeat myself.’
‘I loathe you.’
‘The feeling is mutual. Anyway…’
------
AN:
Anon, you cannot know how happy this ask made me. An Unfortunate Reminder was the first ever fic I wrote for Tumblr and the first oneshot in years, so I am overjoyed that it has been remembered.
Thanks for the ask!
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l-coleart · 10 months
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Sketchbook Supply Recs!
Hi y’all, Since I’ve been posting more sketchbook pages recently, I thought I would share some of my favorite supplies. My recommendations are tailored to creating a user-friendly, portable kit mainly focused on ink and markers. I’ve found that having a kit like this makes me more likely to regularly develop my sketchbook, which I view as one of the most important parts of keeping one. None of these recommendations are sponsored or affiliated, I just hope that by sharing what supplies I enjoy, others can find new things to try. Keep reading under the cut!
I often find that products marketed towards the stationary and note-taking/organization niches perform better at lower prices for frequent sketchbook use than products targeted specifically towards the art and illustration community. Don’t shy away from products in office-supply stores just because it doesn’t say ‘for art’ on it. 
I also recommend refillable pens whenever possible. They usually offer more customization in ink color and nib size. Refillable options produce less plastic waste than disposable options. Refillable designs tend to have more ergonomic designs, with larger barrels and better weight balance that minimize hand discomfort. If you draw frequently, this is something worth considering to avoid damaging your hand joints in the long term. In addition, they’re built with durability in mind, allowing them to be thrown in your bag or pencil case without worry. 
Darker ink drawing pens make up the core of my kit, so I’ve tried a variety of options and usually have at least a few of these in my bag. Currently, the Pilot Kakuno Pocket Fountain Pen (around $10-19 depending where you purchase from) is my favorite. I love the line quality this pen can produce– the barrel is a bit larger than most pens and the body and cap give it a good balance in the hand. This pen also takes cartridge refills, allowing you to easily switch colors between refills without the mess. There are a wide range of colors available for this pen, and the thinner water-based ink formula is easy to work with. The ink dries down matte, so it scans accurately without digital manipulation. It also comes in a few different nib sizes with different cosmetic options/color ways for the pen body. Though fountain pens typically have a slight learning curve in learning how to draw with them, I found this one especially easy to work with since the nib has an etched design that shows when you’re holding it properly. 
The Pilot EnerGel Alloy Body Ballpoint Pen (around $8-10) is another of my favorites. The metal body of the pen is a slightly larger barrel size with a nice weight balance which allows smooth lines without hand discomfort. They’re also refilled with cartridges, which come in a few different colors and point sizes; I enjoy the 1.0 mm the most for this pen. The water-based gel ink formula for this pen is one of the best I’ve tried, as it’s very smooth, dries fast which minimizes smudging, and scans well. The V5/V7 Ballpoint Pen from Pilot (available in multi-packs for around $1-2 per pen) has a similar ink formula in varied nib sizes. They aren’t refillable, but they last a long time. I think they’re worthwhile, especially as a beginner friendly, widely available option.
Muji Pens (available online for about $2 per pen) are another great ballpoint gel option. They come in an impressive range of colors, thicknesses, and cap types. They can also be refilled with cartridges. I think the finer 0.38 and 0.5 nib sizes are my favorites from this line. 
If you prefer a brush-tip style pen to ballpoint or fountain pens, I really enjoy the Tombow Fudenosuke or Pentel Pocket Brush. The Fudenosuke (around $3-4) is a felt-tip brush pen. The nib is a perfect firmness to get a variety of line weights with ease. I find that this makes it well-suited to thumbnails and other fast sketching. They come in a smaller range of well-formulated, pigmented colors, which consistently scan well. They aren’t refillable, but last a long time, which I think makes them worth it. 
The Pentel Pocket Brush (around $7 with two refills included) is a bristle brush pen. The fibers are very smooth and can achieve a wide variety of textures and line weights. It has a bit more of a learning curve than some of my other recommendations, but that’s mostly if you haven’t inked with a brush previously– it’s relatively easy to get comfortable with. It’s also refillable with cartridges and has a few different color options. This pen is one of my favorites for figure drawing. 
Though it’s not a pen, I also think the Rotring Mechanical Drafting Pencil (around $20-30) deserves a mention for folks who prefer sketching in pencil. The metal body and textured grip create a good weight balance that makes it write exceptionally smooth. It also takes standard graphite and other colorful options which give an equivalent level of customization to the previously described pens. 
Markers and colorful supplies are another important element of your kit. At the top of the list for me is a couple of different highlighters and felt tip pens. I love Zebra Mildliners, especially the double-ended ones with the super fine/brush tip combo (usually less than $1/pen when purchased in packs of 5 or more). They’re easy to draw with and can be a great choice for adding value or colors. The color range (mostly pastel and creamy colors) is also impressive. Stabilo makes a similar style of pen called the pointMax (M 0.8) (usually about $2 a pen, but also comes in packs) that comes in some darker, more vibrant colors. I prefer the thicker size since they tend to last longer, but they make some thinner liner versions of this pen (called point88) with the same ink formula that are also good. If you like a thicker marker, Chunky highlighters are the way to go. Stabilo Boss (about $1.50 in a multi-pack) and Staedtler Textsurfer (about $1.70) are great options that come in a variety of colors, with Stabilo coming in creamy pastels and Staedtler coming in more bright and neon colors.  
Within this category, novelty supplies can also be a good colorful addition. Mixed color pencils can be really fun for line drawing. Koh-i-Noor makes some of my favorites (about $4 but they last a long time) with earth tones, primaries, and neons. Gelly Roll pens (about $1.50 /pen) also are a nice novelty pen while still being high quality. They have a good color range with metallic, neon, glitter, and other finishes. 
On top of drawing supplies, some washi tape, stickers, double-stick tape, and cool paper also make fun additions. It’s harder to make specific recommendations for specific washi tape and stickers, however, supporting your local stationery/craft/paper good stores and favorite artists and designers who make and sell it is always a good move! I have some from Natalie Andrewson, Alex Tomlinson of Pigeon Post, and Starmint Art that I use all the time. The best ones complement the imagery and colors you use. Be curious, collect, and repurpose things that make you excited!
Hopefully these recommendations help you find something new and exciting. Let me know if there are other topics you’d be interested in! Thanks for reading :^)
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nimmee · 1 year
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Here's part 4 of Nanamin Kento headcanons, because I can't stop writing and having so many ideas right now (I know my writer's block is gonna hit me soon so I'm trying to get as much as I can written out)
Enjoy 💙
32. Kento likes doing crosswords and Sudoku. (it makes sense)
33. Contrary to popular belief he actually has a lot of friends from different walks of life. And not the shallow friends but he has a close circle of friends he can rely on professionally and personally. ( I personally think that he spent most of his early school years in Japan but for a year or two he actually went to other countries as an international exchange student that would explain how he is fluent in French and English apart from Japanese, also Dutch because he has a Danish lineage. It would also explain why he has friends at powerful positions all around the world ). One of his international friends who is quite a respected designer in Italy actually tailors all his suits. Also, (bear with me on this) his maternal grandmother could have had the tiniest amount of usable cursed energy that she completely used up when she made little Kento those leopard print ties. She did it to bless him and protect him from curses. Which also explains why he uses his tie as a binder to his "overtime" vow and the left out fabric to wrap his blade. (As they say blessings are more stable and long lasting than curses)
34. Nanamin still visits Yu's sister and her family. He regularly visited her after Yu died and hence formed a brotherly bond. She is married and has a little boy. Her husband and Nanamin are really good friends too.
35. Kento had a pretty wholesome childhood being an only child from both the family lineage. He was dearly loved by all his grandparents. He was pretty close with all of them. (I'm listing off all of their professions and talents here:
Paternal grandmother - she is a calm and very gentle woman doesn't speak much. She has been a housewife all her life. Her talents include cooking comfort food, calligraphy and book binding, handicrafts and origami, flower arranging.
Paternal grandfather - he is a quiet man talks less but is the warmest man you could find. A tad bit Conservative but loves and accepts Nanamin's mom as his own daughter. He is a professional knife and sword maker. His talents include sword forging, sword wielding, knows a lot about fencing and swordsmanship, bonsai, gardening, fruit picking.
Maternal grandmother - she is calm but one fiesty and strong woman. She has always been a housewife. She and Nanamin's paternal grandmother are best friends. She is quick witted and knows her way out of any situation. She is very logical and a genius at finances. Her talents include sewing and knitting, all kinds of clothing making, managing finances, playing traditional musical instruments (she is a quick learner and masters any traditional musical instrument in few months) . Turns out she has very small amounts of cursed energy which she reverses to use as blessings and use to make good luck charms, headstrong, quick - wit.
Maternal grandfather - as we All know he is Danish. He is a warm happy man, talks a lot and loves to cook, very gentle and Kind . He was born in Denmark but his family moved to Japan due to his father's employment when he was 2. He is fluent in Japanese, Dutch and English. He has two professional culinary degrees one from Japan and another from France. He has received culinary training in Japan and then went to France for his internship. He is a professional chef and owns a Michelin star restaurant. His talents include cooking, baking, growing his own vegetables, miniature making in his leisure time, also loves puzzles. He is also a skilled butcher - he could easily cut open almost All kind of meat to properly portion the pieces.
Nanamin's Dad - is an Architect hence his interest in Architecture when he was younger. He Talks a lot even though his parents are quiet people. Headstrong and very responsible person. Absolutely loves his wife and her cooking. His talents include puzzle solving like Sudoku, he is a trained sowrds man because his father is, he has his own Katana. He makes hilarious comic strips, is a gifted painter and loves going through all kind of comics international or local.
Nanamin's mom - is a pastry chef and owns her own bakery. She is generally quiet can be very talkative with right people. She is soft and gentle but she is fiesty and headstrong when she needs to be. She takes to her father and is one of the warmest person you could find. She has the ultimate say when she and Nanamin's dad are arguing. Nanamin's dad complies most of time because she has the most logical and reasonable arguments. She did train to be a chef but chose baking because she likes deserts (reminds of the Baker lady from Kiki's Delivery service). Her talents include baking and cooking, making different kinds of healing tea (most probably she unconsciously uses tiniest amount of reversed cursed energy she inherited from her mother). She is genius at knitting and quilting, managing finances has always been a good forte for her, growing flowers and decorating has always been something she was naturally good at.
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keyh0use · 8 months
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only Barry and Rafe don't know they're dating
Pairing: Rafe x Barry
Swearing, brief jealousy, gross fluff.
This is really just an outline for a 2 chapter fic I haven't gotten around to properly writing yet. Enjoy!
Chapter 1, Part 1
♡ Barry and Rafe have been sorta friends since the first time they met. Back then, freshly eighteen, the kook was just starting to get heavy into coke. Having a cute dealer definitely contributed to how fast he gave in to the temptation.
♡ It becomes like Barry's third job to care for the boy, keeping track of how much shit he's putting in his system and stealing Rafe's bike keys when he's too fucked.
♡ Days after the first time Rafe clocked out on the porch couch from too much expensive cocktails over brunch with Topper and coke with Barry, the boy starts continuously running back to the trailer at the end of the day instead of Tanneyhill.
♡ They share a bed and every stupid secret they overhear. Everyone knows if you tell Rafe something, Barry will know about it too, and vice versa.
♡ Everyone can see how sickeningly into each other they are, affectionately poking fun at how inseparable and domestic they've become.
♡ Rafe starts picking up around the house when the man is at work or out doing a drop, disposing of empty beer bottles and old take-out containers.
♡ Since (non-explicitly) moving to the cut, Sarah conveniently finds her way to the trailer every damn time her brother is gone, trying to convince Barry to ask dumbass Rafe out. "If you don't, it's never going to happen! Don't you want a sister like me?"
♡ Wheezie feels left out being the only one stuck in Tanneyhill, making excuses to Rose about meeting with friends in order to bike all the way to the south side.
♡ The youngest Cameron sibling doesn't actually know where The Chateau or wherever the heck Rafe lives. So she pulls up alongside a fruit stand and asks for directions.
♡ Rafe, as expected, loses his fucking mind when there's a knock on the trailer door and he opens it to his thirteen year old baby sister, all on her own. But Barry is chill, hides the drugs with smooth ease and invites her in, telling the boy to calm the hell down.
♡ It turns out Wheezie and Barry have a lot of common interests, most of which she was never allowed to act on. Barry loves fishing and Wheezie wants to wade in the shallows to see tiny fishies, but that's deemed unladylike by her father.
♡ They both love action and psychological thriller movies, much to Rafe's bemusement, the kook only ever wanting to watch slasher films.
♡ "I wanna watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre...again," Rafe told the man. "Of course you fuckin' do," mumbled Barry, searching through the list for it.
♡ Meeting the parents is the last thing Barry ever thought he'd be doing, especially for someone he's not even dating. Yet here he is, pulling up alongside the manicured lawn of Tanneyhill with a present tucked safely underarm, neatly wrapped after watching four tutorials.
♡ "You came!" Wheezie exclaimed, hugging the older man around his waist.
♡ Barry had borrowed dress pants from his coworker, tucked his funeral shirt into it and ran a comb through his wet curls. Looking around at all the well-dressed guests he feels like he made a grave mistake coming, even as the little girl beams up at him.
♡ But then there's Rafe: pretty, perfect Rafe with his styled hair and wearing a suit tailored to fit him just right, nothing out of place. And he looks so happy when he spots Barry, instantly excusing himself from conversation to jog over.
♡ Rafe's hands grab for Barry's face as his instinctively latch onto the boy's waist, kook telling him with a sly grin how good he looks and suddenly his self-doubt slips away
♡ Barry catches sight of Sarah in the near distance watching the display of public affection. She mouths nut up to him, the very same words said to the girl when Barry taught her to gut a fish and she got blood on her fingers and wouldn't stop whispering ew, ew ,ew.
♡ Why should he, though? Nut up, that is. What the two of them have together right now is nice, admitting feelings might complicate it or ruin it altogether.
♡ Only fifteen minutes pass before Ward has found them, introducing himself and his wife to Barry like the woman can't speak for herself.
♡ Ward is shockingly nice to Barry, shakes his hand and starts conversation about an old car he wants looked at, something the dealer is well versed in. Which obviously the Cameron patriarch knows, making Barry spend the rest of the evening wondering how much Rafe talks about him.
♡ Other than in passing with no speaking, this is the first time Barry meets Rafe's friends too, who keep giving the boy these looks like there's some joke Barry wouldn't understand. It's only mildly aggravating, hard to find much to be pissed over when Rafe is leaning against his side.
♡ Rafe is so appreciative the man attended Wheezie's birthday, he attempts to make a thank you dinner the next evening.
♡ One day Barry gets a panicked call from Wheezie, who speaks almost too fast to follow. Her father is away on a business trip and Rose won't answer, so she hasn't been picked up from her after-school program.
♡ When the beat up truck rolls alongside where Wheezie waits with a teacher, the girl turns and says, "That's my brothers boyfriend!" And no the fuck he isn't, but if Barry doesn't bother correcting the mistake then so fucking what?
♡ Nothing compares to the amount of shit Barry's own circle gives him, though.
♡ Rafe will often stop in the garage or the pawn shop, sit on rickety chairs and watch Barry work, usually with lunch for the two of them waiting to be eaten.
♡ All the guys will take jabs at how clingy Rafe is, but ignore the way Barry's arm goes around his waist the moment they're within reach of one another or the way he draws idle patterns on Rafe's thigh just at the cut-off of those sinful pastel shorts.
♡ "Wish my wife brought me lunch," one would joke. Barry would reach over and brush his oil-stained knuckles against the flush on Rafe's cheek with a golden grin.
♡ Despite the light-hearted jabs, Rafe is always invited to shit. The mechanic shop owner loves when the kook attends because he's good at keeping a couple business type cousins away from everyone else.
♡ "The day your man stops attending these things is the day I stop having them."
♡ Rafe is attractive. Anyone with eyes could fucking see that so it's not odd that Barry stares sometimes. The boy is just so damn pretty it hurts, makes his cock swell up until he's throbbing and suffering in the bathroom trying to think of something besides blue eyes and delicate hands and a snarky attitude.
♡ Barry agrees to go to the country club with Rafe for Kelce's birthday or something, rolling his eyes when the boy threatened to upset his friend by not attending if Barry wouldn't go.
♡ That's when the older man realises other people notice how hot Rafe is, too.
♡ Some bitch mixing drinks watches the boy all night, gives him this little smile anytime he goes over, like she wants to write her number in salt on the counter and hope he gets the hint. Or like she wants Rafe to meet her after shift change.
♡ Something visceral charges in Barry then.
♡ "You gon' stay right the fuck here, got it, country club?" "Got it," Rafe whispers, bottom lip sucked between rows of white teeth.
♡ Barry holds Rafe close all damn night, likely bordering on improper behaviour in such a classy place. But he doesn't give a fuck.
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threadbaresweater · 2 months
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A joke! To distract :)
There’s this guy (let’s call him “John”) hyping himself up to ask his crush to the prom. He’s spent YEARS pining over this person and an extravagant and beautiful prom night would be the perfect way to solidify a dating intention in his eyes. He goes up to them and asks
“Would you go to prom with me?”
They respond “I’m flattered and would love to. But I have conditions:
1. You buy the tickets
2. You make reservations at ‘Chez Fancy Restaurant’
3. You pick up THIS specific custom tailored suit to match my outfit
4. You pick up my outfit and drop it off at my house, it’s all ready. Just needs to be picked up
5. You reserve a limousine from THIS specific service”
John agrees, and begins the work towards his romantic dream.
He goes to buy the prom tickets, and the line to buy tickets is SO LONG but John is smitten with this person. So he waits in the line and buys the tickets. He goes back to his crush and tells them “I’ve bought the tickets!” They say “Great! Now all we need are the limo, the dinner plans, my outfit, and your outfit!”
John goes to reserve the limo and the line to reserve the limo is SO long. He’s unsure if there will be any limos left by the time it’s his turn. Luckily, there are plenty left and he wants to make this night special so he reserves the limo and goes back to his crush and says “I’ve got the tickets and I’ve reserved the limo!” The crush responds “Great! Now all we need are my outfit, your outfit, and the dinner reservations!”
John goes to make the dinner reservations and the line for reservations is SO VERY long, but he knows his crush has fancy tastes, he knows this food will be phenomenal, and he wants the night to be extravagant so he waits in the line and gets the reservation. He goes to his crush and says “I’ve got the tickets, I’ve got the limo, and now I’ve got the dinner reservation!” The crush responds “Great! Now all we need are my outfit and your outfit!”
John goes to pick up his tuxedo. The line to pick up is SO VERY LONG but John knows that his crush will look spectacular and he wants to look just as good standing next to them. So he waits in the line, picks up his tux, and goes to his crush and says “I’ve got the tickets, I’ve got the limo, I’ve got the dinner reservation, and I’ve got my tux!” The crush responds “GREAT! Now all we need is my outfit and we are good to go!”
John goes to pick up his crush’s outfit and the line to pick up the outfit is SO UNNECESSARILY LONG but he caught a glimpse of the outfit and was sure they’d look fantastic. John wants his crush to look and feel as amazing as he’s worked to make the prom night. So he waits in line, and picks up the outfit. He goes to his crush and says “I’ve got the tickets, I’ve got the limo, I’ve got dinner, I’ve got my outfit, and I’ve got your outfit!” And the crush responds “Great! I’m so excited to go to prom with you!”
Finally prom night comes, and John and his crush are having a ✨magical✨night. The limo is glamorous, they both look incredible, dinner is unlike anything they’ve tasted before and most importantly they both feel a smoldering love building between them. They head to the prom venue and the line to get in is SO INCREDIBLY LONG but John has done all this work to make the night great, his crush wants to dance, so they wait and finally get in the venue.
Once inside, they’re having a great time! Conversing, dancing, and generally having so much fun together. After a particularly vigorous stint of dancing, the crush tells John “I’m thirsty, I’d like some punch!” And John goes to satisfy their need. When he approaches the punch bowl, there is no punch line
it's the way I was SO INVESTED in this, and then it ends up being the longest dad joke in the world.
thank you, though. I read it while I was waiting doe the doctor and it properly cheered me (after I rolled my eyes really hard and groaned out loud)
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lulubelle814 · 3 months
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Regards, Loki - Chapter 34
Master List
James received a call from his tailor that his suit was ready.  When he arrived to pick it up, they had him look it over one more time.  After all, the gala was only 2 days away.  Also trying it on for good measure, he was extremely pleased with the results.  The clerk carefully placed the suit inside a weather-proofed garment bag and made his way home.  Only 2 days to go.  Just 2 days before he would finally have the opportunity to meet his Sigyn.  He could only hope she didn’t find him disappointing.
At the same time, Louisa was at Mon Amour picking up her dress.  Misha was there to ensure everything was to her satisfaction.  Trying it on, it fit like a glove.  Thankfully, it also wasn’t as heavy as it looked, and she found she could easily move around.  Despite their agreement to not have sleeves, she ended up having them anyway.  Contrary to her fear, her arms did not feel restricted, and the material used helped her stay cool.
“I feel like a princess.”
“No, you look like a goddess, and I am sure Loki will feel the same way.”  She moved to show a feature of the dress that she had built in, showing it to Louisa.
This made Louisa beyond happy.  “It has pockets!”  Putting her hands in the pockets, she found they were deep which made her even more excited.
Misha laughed.  “I thought you might like to have your mobile with you, and maybe lipstick and such just in case rather than having to carry a purse.”  Misha then pulled out a card.  “I’ve made arrangements with my favorite hair stylist to do your hair and make-up the afternoon of the gala.  He’s expecting your call.”  She pressed the card into Lou’s hand.
She was stunned and speechless.  “I……..how……….wha………..”
Misha smiled at her.  “All I ask is that you let me know how the story ends with you and Loki.”  All Louisa could do was nod.  She’d heard of this hair dresser.  His work was beyond impeccable, and it was impossible to get an appointment with him.
“He will also have your mask.  I hope you do not mind, but I took the liberty of selecting masks for you and him.”  Pulling them out, they were incredible.
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“I sent a picture to your hairstylist, and we had these made.  They are one of a kind and will make it much easier for you and him to find each other.”  
Despite still having the gown on, she hugged Misha, happy tears threatening to fall.  “It’s like you’re my fairy godmother.”  Misha smiled in return.  “I like that, fairy godmother.”
Once she changed back into her regular clothes, Misha took the dress and carefully placed it into a dress bag and put the mask carefully into its own box that draped off the hanger.  “Bring this with you to your hair appointment.  He and your friend can help you put the dress on without getting makeup on it.  I have a feeling he’ll want to do the final touches until after you have the dress on.”
Louisa conceded and agreed to use the stylist she arranged, grateful she no longer had to worry about how to do her hair or makeup because she was still stumped on how to do it properly with this dress.
Louisa: I just picked up my dress!
Cora: Yay!
Brad: That’s awesome!
Chad: I bet it looks incredible!
Cora: I have some ideas about your hair.
Louisa: Misha actually sorted that out.  She set up an appointment for me with Adam Walker.
Brad: THE ADAM WALKER?
Chad: He’s one of the best!
Brad: One of?  Babe, he IS the best.
Cora: He was just featured in Harper's Bazaar!
Louisa: Misha said he’s expecting my call.
All: CALL HIM
To appease them, she pulled out the card with his number and called.
Receptionist: Adam Walker Studio.
Louisa: This is Louisa Ward.  I was told….
Receptionist: Yes, Ms. Ward.  He’s expecting your call.  Just a moment.
She wasn’t on hold long.
Adam: Louisa, darling!  I’ve been waiting to hear from you.  Misha told me about your set up with this Mr. Loki, and I knew I had to help.
Louisa: I can’t believe it!  I’ve seen some of your work, and it’s amazing!
Adam: Thank you, dear.  Now, Misha sent me a picture of your dress, and I have a few ideas.  If you’re free, could you come by my salon in an hour?  I’d like to go over some ideas.
Louisa: Yes, I’ll be there.
Adam: Fantastic!  And bring the dress with you, if you don’t mind?  It will help narrow down the styles, and we can test a couple out before the big day.
He gave her the address, and rather than go home, she stopped by the cafe.  When she walked in, Chad rushed around the counter and hugged her, careful not to touch the bag.  “Bitch, you’d better be here to show me the dress!”
Brad laughed in the background.  “It’s all he’s been talking about today.  ALL DAY.  Save me and show him?”
Chad led her to the back office away from the patrons where she carefully unzipped the garment bag, revealing the dress.  When he tried to touch the feathers, she slapped his hands.  “No touchie!”
In a momentary lull, Brad came to take a quick look.  “It’s beautiful!  Girl, you’ve really outdone yourself.”
“I have Cora and Misha to thank for that.  I couldn’t imagine wearing a dress like this in a million years.”
They all smiled and chucked a little.  “Well, not to break the mood, but we ran out of your treats this morning, and there’s been several requests from patrons for more.”
“Wait, really?”  She didn’t know what to say.
“Yep.  Every day, we run out.  In fact, for the past two days, there’s been a line outside the shop before it opens with people who want to get those baked goods before we run out.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Chad spoke up this time.  “He’s really not, and word is spreading.  I went to the delicatessen down the street, and they were asking me where I got them because they want in on the action.  I went to get my hair cut, and my stylist was telling me about these cookies the owner brought in the other day from our cafe, except he didn’t know it was our cafe.  They were raving about them.”
Brad pulled out his phone to show her an article that was published just that morning.
You may not have heard of them, but there’s an incredible cafe that opened a few weeks ago called Deja Brew.  Owners Brad and Chad have worked hard for months to get their place up and running with eclectic teas and coffees.  Now the duo has finally started offering companionable treats such as muffins, coffee cake, brownies and more.  
While this sounds like your run-of-the-mill treats, think again!  I’ve had a chance to finally try these for myself, and they leave you feeling as if you’re in heaving and wanting more.  The only problem?  They tend to sell out in the first 2 - 3 hours of opening.  
I spoke with the owners just yesterday, and they said they are not revealing their source at this time.  Who could this incredible baker be?  We’ll keep you updated.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.  Really?”
They nodded.  “We didn’t want to give out your name or anything, especially if you didn’t want it public, but we’re hoping this might help you decide?”
“Yes!  I’d love to be your full-time baker!”  
An hour later, she was at the salon with Adam.  He carefully pulled the dress out of the bag and hung it up to get a better visual.  “Such a beautiful dress.  I do believe only a handful of these were made, all in slightly different colors and variations.  Misha told me about this one when it arrived to her shop the morning of your appointment.”
Now seeing the dress in person as well as the golden mask, it gave him a much better sense for what color palette to use for her make up and also narrowed down the hairstyles that would look best both with Louisa and the dress.  “Would you be opposed to getting some highlights?”
“Not at all.”  Adam was well known for making people look amazing.  He walked around her, thinking a bit more and taking a couple of pictures.  “Okay, I think we’re good.  The gala starts at 8 pm.  I’d like you to be here at 3 so we can take our time.”
It was hard not to agree with him.  That was a long time to spend getting ready, but he was a professional.
Taglist: @huntress-artemiss @jaidenhawke
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Text
Love in a Ghost Town--Part 7: Seismic Shifts (Finale)
Eddie Munson’s become content with working his day job. After the crazy stretching of events from 1983-1986, Eddie’s grateful for a little bit of normal in his life.
That is until one day, Valeria Browns shows up in town looking for a quick car fix. And she’s more than he might’ve bargained for on the eve of Valentine’s Day. Valeria is just trying to enjoy her Valentine’s Day weekend after many years of being perpetually single. She has her fun, but it’s never serious. Maybe Eddie can change some of that.
Older!Mechanic!Eddie Munson. 2003 alternative universe. BlackFem! OC.
The Upside Down doesn’t exist in this fic. But strange things do happen to the town of Hawkins, Indianna. Major Character Death that is not canon as a result of the non-Upside Down AU.
This chapter is from Eddie's perspective.
CW: 18+ content (Smut, oral--male and femme receiving, p in v); Pregnancy (unplanned); implied/past alcohol abuse
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
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Edited Picture of Eddie by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
Feel free to review my masterlist here
______________________
Eddie can count the number of times he thought the next day was never going to be his. Exactly 5,844 days of thinking the next day won’t be his--it’s not that Eddie is counting lately. He promised that when he made the promise to Valeria he’d stop. For all the times he didn’t show up to algebra or trig, he’s lightning at multiplication. Never mind the fact that he did the math on a calculator to double check himself. It’s not necessarily counting when he realized the last day he counted the days that the days kept coming was after Valeria came back into town and dropped off exactly 350 dollars in fifties, twenties, and tens. He stopped counting because he didn’t want to know how long it would be until he found himself in her presence again. Too much of an ache when he realized his life felt too settled--or perhaps he felt settled on the fact that he would live and die by Hawkins in the long run and he would never get out--and this ultimately settling could rob him of something more. 
Eddie is selfish at times. He can admit that. It is a fatal flaw in his entire composition. He’d been selfish with Sinclair and his basketball years on the tail end of his final senior year by not always being flexible on Dungeons and Dragons sessions. He’d been selfish about Wayne’s funeral. Wayne told him to have just a small viewing and then cremate him. But Eddie spent what he had to give Wayne more. Eddie liked to tell himself he was doing his uncle proud--the mid range cost casket, the mid-range cost flowers. Nothing jaw dropping, but still more than Wayne said he wanted. Eddie felt like he couldn’t let his uncle go out in death remembered as the person who’d gotten too sick, spent too much money on not even getting better but rather only staying alive to afford anything else. The truth of it is simple. The funeral was for Eddie in retrospect. Wayne was always known around town as a good, decent, hardworking guy with a quick and quiet wit. But Eddie needed to see him go out with something more because it’s in that memory of Wayne’s body in a properly tailored suit, casket shutting on the still too young but hollowed face and lowered into the ground like good decent people go, that makes it easier for Eddie to sleep at night. 
And maybe this particular moment, staring at his ringing house phone, knowing exactly who it is to call him at such a time in the evening, that Eddie’s hesitation to answer is self-preserving. There is a difference in being selfish versus knowing that the good thing is the scary thing and not choosing it. The difference is fear. The easy choices are made without much thought because there’s no need to question what comes after. The answer is already known. The answer comes like it’s supposed to. 
Eddie answers though. He could never preserve himself enough around her. He picks up the yellow receiver on the fourth ring and settles it against his ear. “Hey, Val,” he greets. 
“Hi, Eddie.” Her voice makes his innards feel like ice cubes melting in the summer heat. It’s not necessarily a rasp to her voice. But it is low, smooth in a way that makes Eddie feel warm on the inside. “How’d you know it was me?”
“When is it never not you?” Eddie returns, leaning into the wall. The yellow cord dangles around his legs. “I’m at a point where if it’s not you, it feels strange.” A confession--not that he hadn’t been trying to confess for a couple weeks now. He did miss Valeria and it didn’t shatter his whole day. It was an achy miss--a kind of longing he hadn’t really experienced since Wayne’s initial passing. Eddie couldn’t get enough of listening to Valeria in the evenings after work. He loved listening to her day; loved it when she asked about his day, picking up pieces of his job’s lingo. 
Eddie missed Valeria in a way that feels sometimes so pitifully simple. He wants to watch movies next to Valeria tangled up on a couch, her buried into his side and swatting at his chest when he gives unnecessary commentary to the film. He wants to hear her laughter not through a phone, and wants to see her smile again--when she’s not playing coy or caring about how big her smile is. Eddie just fucking misses Valeria. 
Lights fill the trailer. Eddie spins, listening to the rumble of a car cut out right outside his house. The curtains don’t fully shut out the light. When Eddie occasionally fell asleep on the couch, the thin barrier woke him before he really wanted to. “Can-can I call you back, Val? Someone’s outside I think and I’m not expecting visitors.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure.”
“Thanks,” Eddie hums. “Hopefully it won’t take long.”
“Be safe.” 
“I will.” 
Eddie hangs the phone back up on the receiver and ducks towards the front door. It’s dark out so he can’t make out who it might be or the car all too well from the window. Right after getting the blinds and curtains settled again, a knock rings out from his door. There’s no hiding it anymore. He turns the knob and like a visage, some sort of hallucination that Eddie can’t separate out from reality, is Valeria on his porch. The hand still on the knob twitches. Eddie can’t make heads or tails if he’s close to swinging the door close or swinging it wide open. 
“Heard it’s someone’s birthday today,” Valeria offers. 
“What the fuck are you doing here, Val? Is this even real?” Eddie’s own heart is thundering in his chest. He can feel it beating against his ribs. The edges of his vision blur for just a moment and then as Valeria speaks, his vision clears.
“I came to make a delivery.” From the top of her bag, she digs out a white envelope. 
“Don’t--no. No more money,” Eddie huffs, releasing the door to pull her up the steps. His hands are flying to shove the envelope back into the slightly unzipped bag. He’d nearly thrown the cash she gave him back into a new envelope to mail it to her, but her note specifically said otherwise. Eddie’s sure that if Valeria hadn’t said anything otherwise he would’ve sent it all back. But she knew him all too well. 
Valeria doesn’t resist Eddie’s work. She just pulls the tickets back out. “I heard there’s a show up in Indy tomorrow. Thought you might be interested in going.”
Eddie watches more closely now as she pulls the envelope back out and flips the lid. She produces two tickets. Eddie is gobsmacked. He’d been trying to get tickets--it was a match up of different bands on the road together-- and had even asked Valeria if she’d be interested. She’d returned that she’d been stuck with a shift that she couldn’t shake. After that Eddie let go of the romantic notion of getting one more weekend with Valeria. Valeria had begged, though, for Eddie to still do something for his birthday. He’d gotten dinner with Harrington, Buckley, Older Wheeler, and Byers. He’s sure the kids would track him down after work tomorrow for something to do as well for his birthday. Eddie felt at peace with the idea of merely enjoying the antics when the kids came up to get him. He’d happily accept the love when it came from them, attempting to make good on his promise. He is sure that he would give them a hard time about it. But inevitably he’d take the kindness, even if Eddie still didn’t seek it. Seeking is still much too risky. 
“But the shop, I can’t--” Eddie counters. 
Valeria slips the tickets into his hand, curling his fingers around them. “Jeff will cover.”
“How--you don’t even…?”
“I talked to Robin and Nancy who talked to Steve, who talked to Jeff.” 
“I don’t know what I’m going to wear, Val. I can’t show up to this looking a mess,” Eddie teases. He wants to find something else--anything else--to rebut this act of kindness with. If he could come up with something more than who was going to watch the shop, he would. But in reality, Indy is only another two hours from here. The drive wouldn’t be bad. They could even visit some places around the venue if they wanted before the show. By the time it ended, it would be late, but not so late that the two hour drive back couldn’t be handled by one of them.
“Consider me your personal stylist for the evening,” Valeria whispers in retort. 
Her eyes--deep and warm-- hold him steady. Like she’s begging him to not put up the front. The thing is Eddie always would at least a little bit. He’d always front, but Valeria would always be able to break him down. The stiff October breeze cuts over Eddie’s arms and he’s reminded that they’re still on his front porch. The door to the trailer is still wide open. God only knows what sort of bugs have flown in possibly in all of this. Eddie pulls Valeria inside, shutting the door softly behind him, a click of the lock sealing them firmly inside. 
“You didn’t have to do this. How’d you get out of the shift?”
“I sacrificed some PTO before Thanksgiving in exchange with the assistant store manager. I bought the tickets months ago and then sort of worked backwards from there to get things all worked out.”
The living room feels more lived in as Valera slides out of her shoes and shucks her duffle back onto the single arm chair. The space exhales around her, like it too was rigid and waiting for her return. “You hungry?” Eddie asks, slipping the tickets onto the dining room table, next to his wallet and keys. 
As he’s spinning to face her, Valeria’s slipping into his space. Her socked feet slide ever so gently over the floors and her head’s falling into his shoulder. Eddie winds his arms around her body with ease. His inhale is deep--pressing the smell of something sweet without being floral still decorating her skin. He wonders if it’s the same Shea Butter lotion he noticed she used or something related to it. But God, he loves it. He missed the scent on his sheets. 
“Hey,” Eddie whispers against her temple. 
“Hi,” Valeria giggles into his neck. The sound sends a shiver up his spine. “I ate on the road.”
Eddie hears the words, but he focuses for just a moment on the way Valeria feels in his arm. She’d never been small by any means. From their first sighting Eddie was well aware of that fact. But she’s always been soft against him. Valeria’s firm still because not even years away from sports can take away what genetics bring to the table. Maybe even firmer now than what was there before. She’d mentioned occasionally tagging along with Chelsea to the gym, but it doesn’t sound consistent. And all Eddie can manage to do is pray that his fingertips can absorb this feeling--Valeria’s warmth. 
“Want something sweet then? I’m not much of a baker but Pillsbury does right by me each time.” 
Valeria shakes her head against Eddie’s shoulder. There’s no braids this time. Her last visit she’d had her hair a slew of them, parted into squares. Now the tressesses fall like corkscrews down to her shoulders. The roots are flatter, look gelled or sprayed down and then curl down from there. Eddie’s not sure how to describe it. But he presses his nose into the foliage of her hair and inhales yet again. 
“Are you sniffing my hair?” Valeria asks. Her voice is muffled now by the muscle of Eddie’s neck. 
“Maybe,” he whispers. He is. He’d do it again. He’d do it forever if he had the option. “It smells tasty. Maybe I should take a bite out of it. Hmm. Think it could be a tasty treat.”
Valeria’s laughter echoes. As she struggles back out of his embrace, all she can do is laugh and laugh and laugh. Eddie adores it. He feels the sound down in his toes. “My hair is not for consumption, sir,” Valeria teases, plopping down onto the couch. 
She fills the space, one arm resting up against the back of the couch. Valeria’s always spilled the space. But Eddie drinks in the sight, her sprawled out and laughing still. He could consume her. Not that he wants her selfishly, to have her so no one else can. But he wants her to swallow his heart in her arms. He wants to know the fullness in his chest like he knows the back of his own hands.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Valeria’s voice is soft, head ducked. Her hair--a dark brown with some honey highlights--covers her face like a curtain. Though she ducks her head, she still keeps her arms spread out. She still refused to fully stop consuming space. 
“Tell me. Tell me how I’m looking at you,” Eddie laughs, reclining into the table, arms folded across his chest. He swears his body will totally evaporate if Valeria actually answers him. And he knows when he demands it, she will. 
It’s silent for a moment. Her nails click--a nervous habit Eddie’s noticed. Valeria flicks her nails together when she’s gathering her nerves. This time her nails are painted a pearl pink with black spider webs across the fingers. Her middle fingers hold a spider though, a black window specifically given the red patch on the top. Eddie thinks--no, he knows--he wouldn’t mind getting caught in Valeria’s web. Hell, he probably already was. Everyone noticed it--Robin, Steve, the kids. They knew if Eddie didn’t talk to Valeria much the day before. He was a bit more clipped in his responses. Never actually grumpy, but never fully centered. Eddie always felt a little off kilter, like he hadn’t gotten enough rest by an hour or two, but knew he would still get through the day. 
Valeria looks up, a new resolve settling onto her face. It pulls her lips down just a little into a pout. Eddie knows it’s never actually in displeasure. Her face usually scrunches up when she’s displeased. It reminds him just ever so slightly of Erica--they were both books that didn’t have problems opening up. They advertised who they were without hesitation. But Valeria’s looking at him, eyes slightly glazed over. He can’t tell if they’re tears or not, but the thought that they might be immediately sets his heart thundering. 
Her words pin him back into his spot before he can push up and start over to her. “You look at me like you might love me. Like, love me differently than just friends do.”
Like you might love me. It was no question for Eddie though. He does love Valeria. He loves her more than he does the rest of his friends. He knew it a couple months ago. He didn’t want to say anything about it. Because it was ridiculous. They lived hours apart from each other. Neither one of them seemed to budge on making a move for more. Eddie didn’t want to leave the comfort of this town--even if it had caused him pain. Valeria most definitely wouldn’t be moving away from her friends to a town like Hawkins. 
“I’m too chicken shit,” Eddie replies. “Because what would happen if I did say I did love you? What would we do if I said when I told you when you came back in June that when I said I missed you I wasn’t just talking about missing you in a friendly way.”
“Too chicken shit,” Valeria laughs softly, pushing up from the couch. “But my question in return is would you choose me? You said before you couldn’t choose. That it’s too scary to choose because inevitably someone leaves.”
Eddie’s not sure why he thought with Valeria they could just ride the wave. Maybe before--when she’d only come back once. But now she’s back twice. She’d chosen Eddie twice now and he still hadn’t budged. “You always know what you want,” Eddie returns. It’s meant to be a joke, but something catches in his throat when he watches her face drop. 
“Do you know what you want? Are you ready to put in work? I feel stuck. All the time. And when I got unfortunately stranded, I realized I felt stuck because I was living this life on auto-pilot. After everything I’d done, seen, been through, going through the motions was just about keeping me alive, but wasn’t about me living. I want to live now. And I don’t know what that looks like, what it really means in the grand scheme of things. But I’d like to figure it out. With you. If you’re ready.”
That--that is the million dollar question. Is Eddie ready? Here, at thirty-eight, he felt like he should have a more readily available answer, but in the grand scheme of things, Eddie is still scared. He’s still the boy that lost his uncle--the last bits of family that felt like an anchor. He’s still the boy who got chased by this town, spilled blood for no real reason outside of other’s narrow beliefs. 
“I don’t know who I am if I’m not here,” he replies. “I don’t know what it means to leave this--the town, this life. What if I’m just lost once I leave?”
“Those questions haunt me too, Eddie. You think I don’t think for a second about what happens if I leave my friends behind. Who’s going to ride by my grandmother’s to check on her each Sunday if it’s not me? What do I actually want to do with my life besides what I’ve already been doing? I don’t have these answers. But I’m trying. I signed up for fucking ballet classes. I don’t know if you remember but my ass is maybe too big for a tutu. I am haunted by ghosts. That statement feels more literal than not sometimes. But what do I do if I don’t try?”
“Your ass is not too big for a tutu. I happen to think it’s the perfect size for one.”
“Not my point, Eddie.” Her eyes narrow. “You can be scared, but you can’t not try.”
One of her flaws. Valeria has a very specific view of the world. It’s not that she’s wrong. It’s just that she fails to account for how fucking hard this is. She fails to account for a perspective fully outside of her own. “You don’t get to dictate what I do and don’t do, you know? I’m terrified. As ridiculous as it may sound. But it doesn’t mean I don’t think about what could be. You don’t get to assume.”
Valeria rests her hand onto his forearm. She tugs and Eddie hadn’t even fully recognized how closed off he’d made himself until Valeria’s silently pleading for him to let her back in. “Then tell me. What do you think could be?”
“I think about waking up next to you, in an apartment or something in a city that neither one of us has history in. I think about standing over your shoulder as you cook. I think about how angry you’d be at me for getting something red mixed in with the whites and turning all my work shirts pink but how ultimately you’d tease that pink might be my color after all. I-I think about if just in the other room that we sleep if it weren’t filled with my guitars and records and your stuff, maybe you get back to softball. I think about what if it had a crib instead. And I think about how scared I am. How much I could fuck up a good thing in a blink.”
Valeria blinks. Her eyes swim and then cloud over. Eddie can only watch for a moment but it feels heavy and his arms fall unceremoniously at his sides like they are suddenly filled with lead. Valeria’s hand goes with the action. She nods, a laugh falling from her throat. “Got it, Eddie. Got it. Envisioning a whole family but still too chicken shit.”
“What about you? What are you envisioning?”
She takes a step back and Eddie takes a step forward, but she curls her arms under her chest. Oh, how the tables have turned. The saving grace is that Eddie’s not going to push and when he reclines back to the spot where he was, Valeria stays in the half step between them. Her voice is clear. “Effort.”
It stings. He thinks maybe it was supposed to, but she’s right. Even if she’s never totally subtle about it. “Nope, never one to mince words, huh.”
“Never will be,” Valeria returns. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your closet since you can’t show up a mess.” She nods her head down the hall and then starts for Eddie’s bedroom. 
He can only watch. Valeria’s arms are still folded, but she still carries on. Eddie hopes to God she waits for him. He wouldn’t dare call it a prayer, lest Valeria be the altar and the God he’s worshiping. But watching her, the sway of her hips, as she carries herself down the hallway more and more the darkness swallowing her, Eddie thinks maybe he should pray more often. Maybe he should get his fucking act together because no one can wait forever. But goddamn it, Eddie hopes Valeria does have the patience of a saint. That, Eddie realizes, is the truly selfish part. He wants Valeria to wait for him or at the very least come back to him. If she can’t wait, God, let her come back. 
“What do you think?” Eddie holds his arms out. The pants have been sitting in his closet for years now--leather didn’t really seem like it was having its moment in the 90’s or early two thousands, but he’d been too proud of all the work he’d done to save up for them. So they sat in the closet and Eddie yearned for a day to break them back out. He’s thankful to all hell he got them a couple sizes larger than he might’ve needed them. There’s very little stretch in the material--some, but not a lot. 
Valeria’s gaze is slow. She takes her eyes up his body. She has been the last hour of Eddie’s frantic flurry. Clothes flying out of his closet like a cartoon, Eddie hated almost everything he’s ever bought in his life. Occasionally, Valeria would give an impressed hum and then suggest what needed to change--bottoms that needed to go, jacket that was clashing. Now Eddie stands in his leather pants that he was sure would never see the light of day, and a white cotton button up that Eddie is sure was influenced by Robin. He unearthed his black cowboy boots from the corner of his closet to complete the ensemble. 
Now, Valeria’s gaze travels up and up and Eddie can only wait. His fingers tremble just a little and he wonders for a moment if the soft click of the rings is audible enough for Valeria. Eddie watches her eyes. He needs her eyes to lock onto his again. Ever since she walked into the bedroom, she’d kept herself tucked away, legs pulled up to her chest. Valeria chews on her bottom lip. Just look. Please. Just look at me baby, please. 
“You look good, Eds.” 
Her voice is soft and when her eyes finally lift, settling onto his, Eddie exhales. Her eyes sparkle just a little. Something floats still behind them--sadness or maybe something else, but in front of that is a spark. Just what Eddie needed. If he could keep that spark alive, he could keep Valeria. And it’s insane really. Eddie is insane--no two ways about it. He’s insane about Valeria and he’s insane to keep toying with her. But fear--damn fear is a strong motivator. But if he can keep the spark in her alive maybe it would buy him a little bit more time. 
“Oh, a nickname to the nickname. Damn, I must be special,” he teases. It’s not what he wants to say. He wants to beg. Ask Valeria not to let him go. Tell her that he just needs a little bit more time. But instead, he cracks a joke. Because that’s what he always does. It’s what always saves him. It’s the easy choice. 
Valeria scoffs, resting her chin on her knees. “You’re special alright. Certifiable some might say.”
“Then I wonder what it says about you?” He crosses the foot between his bed and closet to the edge of the bed. One knee falls into the mattress and Valeria watches him the whole way. “Don’t you think there’s something to be said about you too in all this?”
“Yeah, that I’m certifiable too.”
Eddie leans in, holding his weight up on one pressed down fist. He tucks a little bit of Valeria’s hair back behind her ear. “What are you wearing?”
“Jeans, corseted top. Boots. Nothing special.”
“Let me see. We can’t clash.”
Valeria snorts. “You’ll see tomorrow. Also, I think you should go with the leather jacket.”
“That’s a lot of leather going on in one outfit, don’t you think?”
“Some might say that occasional indulgence is doctor recommended.”
It’s Eddie’s turn to snort at Valeria’s comment, head dropping for a moment. As it does, he feels some of the hair he hadn’t gotten secured well enough in the elastic fall down. It doesn’t stand a chance though. Valeria’s moving the strands back behind his ears just as soon as they fall, palms pressing into his cheeks. Her nails--a perfect addition of pressure when she scratches lightly at his bearded jaw. Eddie’s stomach quivers at the touch. 
Eddie watches her tongue dart out to lick her lips. It’s hanging again between them--the tension. Eddie tilts her head back with just a gentle press of his palm. “Can I kiss you?”
He needs permission because it’s reckless. To tell Valeria he dream of what they could have--love, a family, and then to tell her that he won’t take the leap because he’s too scared is a coward’s move and it’s smothered in the stench of assholery to ask for more. Knowing he can’t give her what she wants. But still wanting it all. 
“You’ll want more.” It doesn’t sound accusatory as it falls from Valeria’s lips. It’s factual. Because Eddie will. He will always want more. 
“Is that a yes?” Don’t take what’s not given, but damn do I want you to say yes--the thought echoes and echoes until Valeria’s voice interrupts it. 
“I worked all day and then drove down. Rain check.”
There and gone. Eddie nods, smiling at Valeria. He thinks it might reach his eyes, but even he can feel how it may not fully reach either, like the corners of his mouth and eyes hit an invisible wall. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. My bed or the guest bedroom--your pick of the litter.” 
“Probably the guest room.”
“Probably? No one’s kicking you out, sweetheart. We can just cuddle, do face masks, kill the pint of vanilla ice cream I have if sugar cookies aren’t going to cut it.”
“You do not have a pint.”
“Go hop in the shower and find out then, hmm. I’ll teach you a thing or two about doubting me.” Eddie laughs and this time it does feel real as he pats her ankle. This time it feels like what they’ve always had when Valeria narrows her gaze but unfurls herself. This time it feels real when she smacks his ass. It’s a loud pop and Eddie’s not sure what stings more, her hand, his ass, or the lead in his chest. Just give me one more shot, he almost says. 
Eddie changes out of the outfit, tucking the items back onto their respective hangers. He knows Valeria won’t be terribly long in the shower. Tucked back into the sweatpants and tank, Eddie settles on the couch. The shower still runs, but Eddie can feel the buzz, the anxiety creeping up under his skin. He’s going to lose it all. Everything he had and what could’ve been is going to slip through his fingers. There’ll be nothing to catch it, not even a coffee table with a pint of ice cream and one spoon. 
“Where’s your spoon?” Valeria questions, freshly showered. Her skin still echoes with warmth that Eddie feels covering his arm. 
“Must’ve forgotten,” he laughs, but opens his mouth wider when Valeria holds out a spoonful for him to have. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she laughs. But that luck feels like it’s running out. 
____________________
It’s not a long drive to Indy. Eddie’s done it himself plenty of times in under two hours. He doesn’t even fuss for control of the radio. He’d rather listen to Valeria sing along to the songs, the Top 40 that she seems to keep on all the time. He’s sure that she must get tired of it. But he doesn’t get tired when she bounces in the passenger seat to Hey Ya. It’s maybe the second time it's been played since they started driving. It makes the drive that much more entertaining as Valeria chants, “What’s cooler than being cool? Ice cold!”
 Eddie joins in on the second call-and-response because he can catch just out of the corner of his vision, Valeria motioning at him. It's noon now, sun high above them. They’d stop to get lunch at a place Eddie enjoyed and then get dinner at a little mom and pop shop that Valeria recommended. An even and fair approach to the impromptu day trip. The middle is sort of up in the air. Eddie has some places he likes to frequent--the tattoo shop he’s gotten all his ink done at, a couple of record shops. Valeria vaguely mentioned wanting to stop at a few boutiques. It feels remarkably normal as the cracks in the window allow air to seep through. 
It feels remarkably normal, but Eddie knows that it’s not. Even as Valeria giggles at his stupid jokes over her plate of fries and a burger, Eddie knows it’s not normal. When Valeria drags Eddie into a boutique and he snatches a fun green dress and pleads for Valeria to try it on, it’s not normal. When Valeria saunters out in the dress, off the shoulder sleeves, ruffles, and cinched waist, and Eddie’s jaw drops, it is not normal. It’s not normal to feel his arousal in fingertips. It’s not normal to drop to his knees from the stool outside the dressing room. 
“You’re getting that. I don’t care how. You are getting that,” Eddie breathes. But this isn’t normal because Eddie knows that something between them is different. But he’s going to pretend that it is normal. Because he wants it to be normal. He wants what they’ve always had. 
Valeria takes a socked foot and presses her toes into his sternum. “Slow down there. Dress is sixty dollars. And I technically need one more size up.” 
In the reflection now of the mirror, he can see how the zipper is still undone. She got it partially up but it does look like a squeeze. “XL?” Eddie asks, dragging his fingers over the bone of her ankle. 
“1X actually. This one doesn’t stretch like I thought.” 
Eddie arches his brow, fingers now dragging over her calf. He should be more worried about standing. The leather pants will not hide anything. But he doesn’t care. This is about keeping the little piece of normal going that they have. His pride be damned. “I’ll go look for it.” 
“That’s if they sell plus sizes. I can normally get by on the extra large.” 
“I’ll go look, yeah?”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Eddie,” Valeria demands. She drags her foot down his stomach, pressing right over his crotch. There’s no hiding it—his erection. But the press of her foot is just enough. It should hurt and it does. But it hurts in just the right way. He groans—long and drawn out but he doesn’t care. 
“I am going to do so many stupid things,” Eddie whispers into her knee. But he doesn’t wait for Valeria’s response. Maybe she doesn’t even respond. He stands, careful to get her foot back to the floor and let her get stable. He prays this place has a 1X. He needs them to have that dress in the right size for her. 
He darts back to the rack where he saw the item. Small, small, extra small, medium, medium, medium, large, extra large, extra large. His breath stops in his throat. No 1X. “Excuse me, miss,” Eddie starts, trying to flag down the one person he spots behind the register. When they look up, Eddie smiles and lifts the dress. “Do you happen to have this in a 1X?”
The woman glances down at the item. The seconds are long and Eddie swears his heart is going to leap out his chest. His grip keeps tightening around the thin plastic of the hanger. “Hmm we don’t normally sell plus size here.” 
Of fucking course. 
“But I think that designer just recently expanded sizing, actually. She works directly with us so we try to make good sales. Give me just a second!” With that the worker flies off to a back corner. Eddie watches, hearing the scratch of metal over metal. He leans out and notices a longer rack of clothes—one that might be used to wheel loads of clothes to be stocked on the floor but aren’t themselves racks to shop off of. But her fingers are quick and then she lifts up the green dress. 
“Last one too!” the worker calls out. 
“I’ll take it.” Relief isn’t the right word to name what Eddie feels. His limbs feel like they’re floating and then suddenly drop back to earth. He hangs the clothing item back into the rack and begins digging out his wallet to meet the worker at the register. 
“One lucky lady,” the woman teases. She scans the tag before pulling the hanger out of the neckline. “How long have you two been together?”
Did it seem like decades to the outside world? There was no way others would be able to see how well they fit together, how natural the whole thing felt. What Eddie and Valeria had feels like lifetimes together. The reality is that they only had a few months, but there’s no way someone on the outside could see it. And even if someone could see it, there was no way that Eddie was going to burden some stranger about his own inability to get his life together. Eddie grins, “Feels like a lifetime but wouldn’t have it any other way.” 
Maybe it’s too soft how he says it. The girl looks up at him, a pout settling on her lips. “That is so sweet. God, I’d kill for a love like that. When it does come, you definitely have to hold onto it.”
Eddie can only nod, passing along the bills for the dress. All the words are dried up on his tongue because he knows. As much as he didn’t want to fuck things up with Val, he might have already. A dress wouldn’t save them. Maybe nothing would save them now. But Eddie takes the bag, a smile plastered on his face. “The right person will come around soon,” he offers. Just don’t fuck it up like me. There’s no need to break the illusion for her though. Maybe she’d already suffered enough heartache. Eddie does believe in love for other people. She’d find the right person soon. It takes hope. And effort, but hoping is so much easier. 
“Please tell me you didn’t.” Valeria’s laughter cuts through whatever rebuttal the worker had primed on her tongue. Eddie turns to see Valeria carrying the dress that was a size too small, glaring at him. Even though Valeria called the outfit simple, tried to shrug it off as something minimal, Eddie still couldn’t believe the sight in front of them. The royal blue of the top dazzles off her skin. The black jeans and boots only seal off the look in a way that when Valeria stands next to him, it makes him feel taller. Though she’s the one in the four inch platforms. 
Valeria shakes her head as she smiles. She places the dress back on the rack, by passing Eddie completely before facing him again. “Eddie, please. It’s your birthday not mine.” 
It takes him a moment to work his throat and mouth again--tongue drying a little out on him. Eddie shrugs. “My birthday was yesterday. It’s over now.” 
“No it’s not,” Val huffs. “It’s not over until this concert is over.”
Eddie holds out his bent arm. “Too late. It is done. Where to next?”
Valeria takes a gentle hold of his crooked elbow. “Your pick, birthday boy.” Valeria presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. Her lips brush against his skin as she whispers, “Record store?” 
Eddie slips his free hand around her fingers. It reminds him he’s alive, in the middle of a clothing store. He’s not gone yet. Neither is she. Valeria’s not gone either. “It’s a little far out. You sure there’s nothing else you want to see on this side while we’re out here. We could just walk around?” 
“Are you going to complain about your feet in those boots?” Valeria snorts. 
“These boots were made for walking,” Eddie returns, voice barely above a whisper. His nose brushes against Valeria’s forehead. This could be his. This could all be normal--for right now, it is. It is normal. And it is Eddie’s. 
“Sure, I guess. There’s a cool vintage shop I think around the corner. Maybe you’ll find some new rings.”
“Worth a shot.” Neither one of them moves for a moment, still pressed close together in their own bubble. But Valeria shifts, straightening up and that’s all it takes for motions to set off. They give their thanks and goodbyes to the worker. Valeria leads them to the vintage shop. The click of her keys on her hip and the heel of Eddie’s boot echoes. The sound precedes them. From the vintage store, back to the truck, to the record store, to the restaurant for dinner. There’s the click and clack of their synced steps. When the venue fills with chatter, others laughter bubbling around them, Eddie can still hear Valeria. Her breaths, the clink of her earrings when she bobs or turns her head. Everything is attuned to her. Because Eddie just needs to hold a little bit longer, a little bit tighter. 
Eddie takes her hand when the songs slow down, thumb rubbing over her skin. Valeria squeezes in return. This is all you could ever need, Munson. And just as the thought settles, he feels the ‘but’. It’s the undermine--the thing Eddie tells himself so he feels better about his lack of action. In reality, the ‘could’ should be replaced. This is all he needs, but he fails to act on it, to make it a reality. 
“...my drink? Edide?”
Eddie blinks, turning his head just a little to see Valeria looking at him, her lashes long and thick. The bass is still vibrating through the speakers. “What was that?” he shouts back to heard over the music.
“My drink,” she calls out. “Do you want the rest of it? I’m stuffed after dinner and the beer’s gonna disagree with me if I keep piling on more.” Her laughter just catches onto his eardrums. 
Eddie holds out his empty cup and nods. “I’ll see what I can do for ya.”
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want.”
Eddie shakes his head, unraveling his fingers from hers to take her cup and stacking it into his own. About half of it is gone already, it shouldn’t be too hard. But even Eddie will admit that he might not have space for it after the slice of apple pie at dinner. “That cup alone was half my water bill, it’s getting drunk.”
Valeria pats his stomach. “Don’t bust your gut though.”
“Ha ha,” Eddie returns. “A true comedian you are.” 
“I know!” Her smile is bright and Eddie catches it even in the dimmed lights of the theater. His face warms as if he were standing out in the sun on a summer day. His rebuttal catches in his throat and he can only manage an eye roll before slipping his arm around her shoulders. She tucks herself back into his side, arms winding around his waist in the process. It feels like a cocoon--the shared warmth of their bodies. Eddie never has to leave this. He can stay here, with Valeria’s breath tickling just a little at his neck, listening to bands he’s loved since he was a teenager. It’s all this moment needs. 
It’s an awkward shuffle out of the venue. Eddie doesn’t want to leave just yet, wants to soak in every last echoing sound of the instruments. Wants to feel his bottles rattle to a stop, but they’re at the start of the row just about and there’s some guys to Eddie’s left that turn and he knows they’re looking to get out. Valeria and Eddie should too. It’s still a two hour drive back to Hawkins. So he follows behind Valeria, climbing up the step. Once outside he stops, tugging on Valeria’s hand to pause her too and turns to stare at the building. They haven’t dropped from the curb just yet to head back to Eddie’s truck. The seal of the moment hasn’t been broken. Once they step out into the parking lot, the reality all comes back. But until then, the cocoon remains intact. 
“Not ready to go just yet?” Valeria asks. 
“Gotta soak it all in,” Eddie returns. Because it is one part ritual for Eddie just to take a few extra seconds to soak in the adrenaline, to let the thundering of his chest still slowly. Eddie tugs on Valeria’s hand. 
“Yes, Eddie?”
He tugs again and she steps in closer. Eddie’s faster, cupping her jaw with his palms to bring her in even closer. “Have I told you thank you?” He knows he hasn’t and as Valeria goes to speak, he’s already talking. Mouth moving faster than his brain at this point. The words are just falling. “Because thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants, kissing her lips with each phrase. The kisses get longer and long. 
She had a piece gum at some point, Eddie can tell. Her breath minty against what should've been the bitter bite of beer. But Eddie doesn’t really care. He’s just lost in the softness of her lips. The way Valeria ever so tentatively lets Eddie lick up into her mouth and melts into his embrace. Eddie knows when Valeria pulls out of the kiss first, slowly and with pecks to soothe the separation, he’s going to thank her properly. Because that’s how the moment should be savored, down to the last drops on his tongue. 
“You’re welcome, Eddie,” she whispers against his lips. 
“Don’t thank me just yet. Haven’t thanked you properly yet.”
“Oh, I. No, I don’t--”
“Please,” Eddie interrupts, hands slipping from her face down to her waist. He continues on, soothing her sides. “Please,” he whispers. It doesn’t even sound like Eddie. The whine in his own throat sounds desperate and sure Eddie is desperate to have Valeria again, make her come undone on his tongue, his fingers, his cock. But he won’t push her. He’ll plead but whatever she says now will override any desire he has. 
“It’s two hours back to your place,” Valeria laughs. 
“You say that like I don’t know, sweetheart. But there’s motels around here.”
She shakes her head. “Gonna make you wait.”
Eddie groans, taking a small nibble at her plump bottom lip. “You fucking tease.”
“And I’m driving back.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie barks out between tufts of laughter. “That’s not fair.”
Valeria takes Eddie by the back of his head and brings his gaze to hers. “Never said it would be.”
The words bring a shiver to Eddie’s spine. But all he can do is close his eyes on the shaky exhale. Never said it would be. Eddie’s not sure if it’s a threat or a promise, but he likes the sound of both. None of this was probably fair but they were doing it anyway. Hell, Eddie would in a heartbeat. It may not be fair, but it for damn sure wasn’t going to stop Eddie. 
Eddie slips the keys into her pockets, giving it a heavy handed pat. “Then let’s get this show on the road, hmm, darling?”
______________________
Eddie doesn’t waste time. It’s a pride of his to know in his older age that he doesn’t waste too much time--he’ll waste some, but never too much. The clocks are ticking up and past one in the morning, but all Eddie is focused on is Valeria. She sighs into his open mouth. He swallows it down. If he could tuck Valeria up under his ribs, he would. If he could carry Valeria in his fingertips, he would. Eddie drinks in every sound. Valeria giggles at the tickle of his scruff at her neck and it makes his bones vibrate. He could fall apart right then and there when Valeria laughs. 
“What’s so funny huh?” Eddie laughs in her neck. 
“Just tickles,” Valeria hums. 
Eddie skates his fingers over the soft skin of her belly, biting at the skin of her breast. Valeria gasps at the sensation but he can hear the smile in voice and that’s all that matters. All that matters is the way when Eddie takes, Valeria gives. All that matters is when Eddie gives, Valeria takes. Valeria’s nails trail over the skin of his back and shoulders, to his chest. Whatever fear he could have about the scars always melts away. Valeria touches him like glass, like she can’t quite believe it’s him in her hands. And while it might seem frustrating, Eddie appreciates the tenderness. It reminds him that there are people who still care. There are still people who may want to consume but they do not do so maliciously. There are some people who may want to pour back. It’s a rarity, but Eddie knows he needs the reminder.
The fire in Eddie’s gut only burns brighter. It’s messy, Valeria dripping down on his chin, but he doesn’t care. Her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling like she can’t get him close enough. Maybe she can’t. Maybe Eddie can’t be close enough either. He holds her legs down, knowing Valeria likes to buck. But this isn’t about something quick and dirty. This is about taking their time--sunlight and responsibilities be damned. Eddie’s going to drink down every drop. 
“Fuck,” Valeria whines, high in her throat. 
Eddie can hear the strain in her voice. He laughs into her thighs, leaning up to watch Valeria’s heaving chest. “You doing okay up there, princess?” Eddie lazily drags a finger on her inner thigh. 
“Better than okay,” Valeria hums. “So fucking good.” 
“Oh, that’s what I like to hear,” Eddie grins before licking another stripe up Valeria’s cunt. She quakes when his tongue hooks around her clit. And though Valeria teased him by making him behave on the two hour drive because she was driving, Eddie is also going to tease her back by lapping from her--slowly, let his own body feed from her pleasure. 
Everything her body can take Eddie wants. Eddie doesn’t care how he gets it. He’s always been one up for an adventure. But he must admit, when Valeria drags him up her body, still heaving from her orgasm, and seals their lips together in a kiss, Eddie thinks it’s going to be a reprieve. He thinks maybe they’ll just take a minute or two. What he’s not expecting is Valeria’s push up, hooking one leg around his waist and then onto his back Eddie goes. It’s not without a laugh, not without his own tease and wiggle of his brow.
“Oh, what a view,” he hums as Valeria settles on his waist. 
“How does it feel down there?” she laughs. 
“It’s a cool 50 degrees down here, I’d say.”
“Prepare for a warm front.”
He wants to ask what specifically that means but the words don’t get off his tongue before Valeria’s teasing him with her fingers. Eddie twitches in her hand, anticipation of what she might do next seeping into his skin and dripping into the sheets. Valeria leans in, mouth opening but she just breathes. Right over Eddie’s face. He whines, not meaning to, and Valeria tightens her hand around his cock. She mocks his whine just a little, laughing. “Cat got your tongue?”
“No,” Eddie heaves out. “A pretty vixen has my dick though in her hands and I would really appreciate anything she wants to give me though.”
“A wordsmith, aren’t you?” 
“I try.” The words all take every ounce of Eddie’s strength to get out. Valeria’s started to lazily stroke him. It’s wet, more than he’s sure his own precum but he doesn’t dare think about Valeria reaching between her own legs to lube him up. No, the thought would absolutely make Eddie blow his load in half a second. 
The tugs increase in pace, tighter and a little faster. More and more until Eddie’s throwing his head back against the pillows. “Shit, shit, shit, Valeria, please,” he cries out. The pace doesn’t feel like it’s sustainable like something’s going to give, either Eddie or Valeria, but so far, Valeria grins against him. Maybe she won’t tire out anytime soon. 
“Please what? Need full words, baby.”
“Please,” Eddie huffs. “Anything. I’ll take fucking anything, honey. Shit.” His toes are curling. Everything in his lower gut is on fire and he swears he’s never going to actually feel anything like this again. Nothing can be as good as this. 
“Anything anything?” Valeria asks.
Eddie can only nod, eyes screwed up tight, holding her hips in his hands. She’s so close, hovering right over him. He can feel the occasional drip onto his length adding more slick to the mess between them. “Anything,” he whimpers. 
Valeria sinks, a sigh leaving her lips and Eddie’s eyes fly open. “Oh shit,” he huffs. Valeria lifts up and then settles again, hips grinding. Her warmth spreads like wildfire. Eddie’s clawing at Valeria to get her to bounce on him again, to create a rhythm that they can both enjoy. But she’s content for the moment just to grind. 
“Tsk, tsk,” Valeria mocks from above him. “Don’t be greedy.”
“Oh, fuck, easy for you to say,” Eddie returns. He wants more bite in the words, but he can’t get it out. All he can do is pant and pray. Eddie’s floating. He feels it before he can name it. But his head it gone from his shoulder and he doesn’t care that Valeria mocks his every sound. He doesn’t care that her teeth are bruising his skin. He doesn’t care that he’s lost all his senses. All that fucking matters is feeling the hot breath on his skin. All that matters is the way Valeria bounces on him, a greedy pace that makes him feel needed. How desperate it is just to be needed no matter the format, but Eddie’s beyond a rational understanding. There’s nothing rational left here as the room fills with the echoes of their moans. 
“Holy--” The swear doesn’t get enough air from Eddie before he can cums. All the air leaves his lungs as Valeria works atop him, hips rising and falling back onto his length. Maybe Eddie got this whole thing wrong. Maybe instead of getting everything Valeria had, she was going to get everything he had. Maybe they’d always wind up like this, giving and taking and giving and taking all in equal measures. Valeria falls into his chest, panting in her own right. She shivers against him and Eddie wraps her up tight in his arms. It’s a give and a take. 
“Do you want pancakes in the morning?” Eddie asks into her temple after they’ve cleaned up. It took a few minutes before either one of them got feeling back into their limbs but it did happen eventually. 
Valeria nods, curled into Eddie’s side. “You got blueberries?”
“I can do that for you.” It shouldn’t be too hard. Eddie can wake before she does and go out to the store to get a cartoon or maybe it would be better to get a frozen bag. But either way, Eddie feels himself drifting into sleep thinking about Valeria in his arms. 
___________________________
The thing about their goodbyes is that when they should be permanent, they never feel that way. At least not with Eddie and Valeria. There’s something underneath them that always says more, says it’s goodbye just for now. Maybe this time will be like all the others. Eddie holds Valeria in the doorframe, in the liminal space of inside and outside his trailer. “You’ll still call, right?” Eddie asks. He needs those. What would fill his days if not for work and Valeria.
“I’ll still call,” Valeria promises. She looks at him, eyes swimming and Eddie knows. He knows that things are shifting. It feels like an earthquake beneath his feet that one one else can feel. This goodbye won’t be like the others because the thing neither one of them demands at that goodbye is how frequent the calls will be. And maybe Eddie knew it was a good idea not to ask. Maybe even in all his disbelief he still knows the ultimate outcome. A week from the concert and Eddie only gets five calls. They’re just as long as they’ve always been, but not every day. Two weeks from the concert and the calls drop from five to four. Then four to three. Three to two. 
Two months pass and it feels like a drought. The calls happen, usually once a week. And then they shorten. It’s passing on how they’re doing--abbreviated retellings of the mechanic’s shop and the store. It’s just enough to feel like it’s a substantive conversation but not what they used to be--what would take hours, only take thirty minutes tops. The bottom of the barrel becomes higher and higher in their conversation more and more silences that feel much too awkward than before. The air is thick. Valeria’s breathing has filled Eddie’s ears for the past two minutes and she keeps stopping and starting her sentences. 
“Cat got your tongue?” Eddie teases. “Did you eat chocolate? You know you’re mildly allergic to it right?”
Valeria laughs. It’s the first time Eddie’s heard it in weeks this full and this loud. It makes his chest tight at the sound and he’s so fucking thankful for it in the moment, he exhales deeply into the receiver. “No, no chocolate, Eddie.”
“Damn, I was sort of hoping maybe you had so you could finally answer my question about what’s your favorite M&M.”
This bout of laughter is deeper and Eddie feels his body sag in relief. He’s on a fucking roll and it feels so much better. Eddie feels like he can breathe. “The answer is clearly the red ones.”
“Atta girl,” Eddie cheers. Their laughter is shared and soft. Just as quickly as the tension is cut it returns. Eddie reclines into the wall next to his fridge. He hasn’t forgotten what Valeria said at the start of his call. How he barely got his greeting out before Valeria was barrelling through hers. “You said you called because you had something to tell me.”
Eddie tries not to panic when Valeria agrees that she does has something to tell him. Because it was coming--the end. It was always coming and it marched so freely because Eddie didn’t do anything to stop it. He was too chicken shit to do anything. Even if the world was going to shift again at least this time he would have nothing left to hold onto it. Maybe the world would just swallow him whole. 
“It’s-I don’t know how to say this.”
“Just like always, putting one word in front of the other, sweetheart.”
“But it’s--it’s going to change everything.”
It’s at that sound that Eddie pushes back up. He’s not sure if he’s bracing himself for the inevitable or there’s the last spring of hope he’s holding onto surfacing. “Change everything?”
“I’m-I’m pregnant, Eddie.”
Yeah, there’s that earth swallowing him whole and spitting him out on his face. But it’s the one fucking thing he needs. It’s ice water on his face. It’s a broken nose. It’s the time Wayne had to buzz his hair back in middle school because he’d gotten it so tangled up that no one could really get it back into order. 
A reset. A hard one that that. 
A wake up call. 
“Do you plan to keep the baby?” Eddie asks. 
“I-I want to, yes. But I know you don’t necessarily want kids.”
“I want this kid,” Eddie confesses softly. 
“No, you don’t have to do that. Tammie and Chels are willing to help me out.”
“Val, I’m not just saying anything. I want to be there for you and for my kid. I love you, you know that right?” 
The words are out again before Eddie can process what they actually will do and mean. But he’d already been dropped on his face once today, learning that Valeria was pregnant with his kid. What was a second drop in the grand scheme of things. 
“But not like that,” Valeria deflects. 
“No,” Eddie returns stern. He doesn’t need her to assume anything anymore. Assumptions had gotten them in this place—at least on Eddie’s part. He’s assumed his way into this mess but he wouldn’t let it get worse. Not when a closed door cracked again. It wouldn’t do that too many more times. “Exactly like that. I fucked up before. I’m not going to fuck up twice. I love you, Valeria. Do you hear me? I love you. You were leaving and I did nothing to make you stay. I didn’t show effort. I just wanted to keep things like they were and hope bare minimum was enough. It wasn’t. It wasn’t enough and fuck, I’m not doing that again. I’m not asking you to pity. I just need you to hear me. I’m sorry. You were right. Effort is so important and you’re important. And I’m sorry I let you go.”
“I mean I left. I wasn't going to hurt myself if you weren’t ready to commit. I know that sounds harsh. I was walking away, Eddie. But the thing I wouldn’t do is lie to you. I wouldn’t try to hide anything from you.” It’s not that it’s harsh. It just stings. Valeria had walked away—not all at once but things had shifted between them. Eddie didn’t fight the current. He had no reason too when Valeria asked if their relationship would ever reach for more he’d all but stomped it out. It’s not penance; it’s just a natural consequence. Every action has a reaction.  “You are never one to mince words.” 
“I’m sorry Eddie. I just wanted to tell you. You deserve to know.” 
“Don’t.” Eddie knows that tone. A resolution she’s decided well before this conversation. “That’s still my kid. I know I messed up but please don’t cut me out of my own kid’s life.”
“No, no. I didn’t—I’m sorry. I meant it like you should know. You need to know so we can decide what to do next, ya know?” 
“I’m a fool. I’ll admit. I am the court fucking jester but I—the thought that I’m a dad or going to be a dad. It means everything.” It’s the first time he’s thought about it like that. He’s going to be a dad. He’s going to have a kid—come hell or high water. He blinks back tears. Some fall over his lash line and he doesn’t move to clear them. “I can do this. I can do it right. I promise Val. I can.” 
“I know you can, Eddie. I’ve always known. I just—I had to take you at your actions before. I still do.” Her voice cracks, the wet sound of her tears thickening her voice. 
“I’ll show it. I’ll put in the work.” It’s silent. Eddie wonders if Valeria’s silence is bad but he barrels on before he can think too much about it.  “How long have you known?” Eddie asks. 
“About a month? Missed my period a couple of times and thought something was up. Took some at home tests. I go in two weeks to the OBGYN to see if I am for sure.”
“What day?”
“Friday, the 16th at 11 AM.”
“Text me the address, okay? I’ll be there. I’m going to be there for everything, I swear, Val.” He knows they’ll have to discuss if anyone is moving, which will mostly likely be him. He’d hate to uproot her in the middle of something like this. He could find another shop to work at. Eddie can and will do whatever necessary now to ensure he doesn’t let Valeria slip through his fingers again. 
“I’ll text it to you. Promise. And I’m sorry. For dropping a bomb like this on you.” 
Eddie giggles. Sure it is a bomb, and not what he anticipated when she said she had news, but at this point it is what it is. There’s no going back. “I’m sorry to have done it to you.” The smile is evident in his voice.
“No, you’re not. Admit it. Just fucking admit it,” Valeria laughs. 
“I mean, if you’re yanking my leg. The picture of you pregnant is pretty hot so less sorry. But we probably should’ve been more careful.” He can’t remember if there was a condom involved or not. He was usually more on top of it, even if his sex life was inactive aside from Valeria. It was important to keep up with the expiration dates and keep them on hand. It’s not like Eddie can even blame the alcohol. He’d barely finished the second beer. He was in most rights in his right mind. 
“It’s the antibiotics I was on, according to the nurses I spoke with. I’d just finished some two days before seeing you due to a root canal and they can make birth control less effective. As we now see.” 
“Oh shit. I didn’t even know that. How—how are you? I mean this for real. I don’t want bullshit, Val. Not after what I know.” 
Her exhale crackles through the receiver. The beats feel long—like stretched out taffy that keeps stretching and keeps stretching. He thinks the moment may never break and then Valeria speaks. “I’m scared, Eddie. I’m so fucking scared.”
Eddie spins, dropping his head into the wall, voice falling into a whisper as he speaks. God, he so wishes he was there with her. Not that he thinks she’d want him there immediately. But he wishes he could be. “Hey, it’s alright to be scared. I’m the biggest scaredy cat there is. Being afraid is okay. What’s got scared you?”
“Everything. We live in different cities. I have no clue how to take care of a baby. Morning sickness is a bitch. I’m starving but I can’t keep anything down. Haven’t pooped in a week. Pregnancy really isn’t all it’s glammed up to be.” 
“Not shitting for a week and not being able to keep anything down sounds horrendous. It’s okay if you feel a little insane right now. Are you off tomorrow?” 
“Yeah. I am.” 
“How far are Tammie and Chels from you?”
“They’re planning to come over anyway, tomorrow.” 
“Okay, good, good. What time?”
“One, I think. What-what are you doing, Eddie?”
He shakes his head, though she can’t see it. He knows that she knows. It’s who they are together--sentiment of each other in ways that should be creepy. “Can you get water down?”
“It’s a fight some days. But you’re changing the subject. Eddie, what are you planning?”
“Nothing, Val. I just want to make sure you’re okay, since I can’t be there.” From the living room, Eddie catches the chime of his phone. It goes off once. A text and he thinks it’s just the address Valeria promised to send, so he doesn’t bother going to look at the message. “For your appointment on the 16th, would you-would you be okay if I stayed the weekend with you? I want to talk properly. Face-to-face.”
“Yeah, that’d be okay. I think it would be good to talk.”
His phone chimes again and this time, Eddie does look in the direction. Not too many people had his cell phone number. The kids did, Harrington, Buckley, Older Wheeler, Byers, and Valeria. Gareth had it for emergencies--namely about the shop. And no one texted him. He was shit at it--hated it in the way that he had muster through it when absolutely necessary but much preferred just talking to someone. 
“There’s two addresses I sent. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess,” Valeria states. There’s a bit of something that catches at the end and from far away, Eddie catches a cough. 
“You okay?”
“I think one of my neighbors is cooking fish and the smell is getting to me. It’s-” Another gag interrupts her. “It’s gonna be a long night.”
“Tell your neighbors I told them no more seafood. They can fight me on it.”
Valeria laughs--soft and mostly from her nose it sounds. “I’ll tell them. I’m sorry to cut this so abruptly. But it’s gonna get bad over here in a minute and I don’t think you want the sounds of someone vomiting in your ear.”
“I would. For you. But if you gotta go, I get it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I thought you weren’t planning anything, hmm?” 
Eddie catches what sounds like a smile in her voice. He grins. “Just take care of yourself, Valeria.”
“See you tomorrow, Eddie.”
Eddie listens to the dial tone for several minutes after the phone call ends. A static in his ears but the longer he stays on the line, the longer he has with Valeria. Tomorrow, he’s got to get his life together for tomorrow. Eddie slams his phone back onto the receiver and scurries to his phone. The first message comes through and mentions Dr. Johnson is Suite 1121. But then he reads the second address, Apartment 23C. Tomorrow. 
“Eddie?” Gareth answers on the third ring. “You alright, dude? You never use your cellphone.”
“Can you cover for me this weekend at the shop and the weekend starting the 16th?”
“Yeah, yeah of course. Is everything okay?”
“I-It’s Valeria.”
“Val? I thought--it’s been months.”
“She’s, uh, well, she’s pregnant and I really have to be there. I’m gonna have a kid.” The sentence makes his face lift, a grin pressing at the corners of his mouth. 
“Fuck, dude. Congrats! Yeah, yeah, I got this weekend and the 16th. No worries. If you need anything else, let me know!”
“I will. Thanks, Gareth.”
Eddie’s expecting--well, he doesn’t really know what he’s expecting when he knocks on Valeria’s door. Maybe she lied. Maybe she’d kick him out and tell him to fuck off. He saw her car, but he doesn’t know what Tammie and Chels drive well enough to know if he’s going to be greeted by the lot of them once the door opens. Either way, Eddie raps his fist against the door, waits two, maybe three seconds and then brings his hands back up to knock again. 
Just before his fist connects, the locks click and the door swings open. Valeria stands, face a little hollowed, but still with the cascade of dark brown corkscrew curls. They’re pulled to the top of her head and fall like bangs against her forehead. She smiles, stepping back behind the door. The gray t-shirt displays a college on it; it’s a little baggy, but still fits her mostly well. “Hi, Eddie. I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now.”
“No, no, you’re not a mess,” Eddie returns, gesturing to see if he’s okay to come in. Valeria nods. “It’s early.”
Eddie’s hit with the small of something like vanilla, maybe something deeper too. And around the edges of the scent, it smells of cleaner. The apartment is bright, thanks to the blinds being open. The couch is dark brown, blue throw pillows. A white knitted blanket is thrown over the back of it. The wooden TV stand holds a decent size TV, DVD cases resting on it. Eddie slips out of his shoes quickly, noting her hardwood floors though she has a thick shaggy rug in the living room. 
“You didn’t have to clean for me,” Eddie laughs. He slips the duffle bag off his shoulders and places it right in front of the couch. 
“Needed to clean anyways. You hungry?” 
“I-I ate already. Thanks.” There’s a couple feet between them, Valera leaning against one of her bookcases--there’s two slender ones on the side resting against the wall between the two outward facing windows. Eddie stands still near the door. 
Valeria nods, arms folding under her chest. Her gaze doesn’t lift up to meet his. Eddie feels like he’s intruding, but she did agree to this. “I’m-I’m going to try and fail with some toast. Bathroom’s down the hall, first on the left. Whatever’s in the kitchen is free for you to consume. Feel free to watch whatever too.”
Eddie takes a tentative step forward, fingers just brushing over her forearm. “Valeria, can you look at me?”
She lifts her head, slowly. She looks tired--more so than Eddie’s ever seen her. Eddie cups her cheeks, thumbs brushing the bottoms of her eyes. It makes his chest ache. He hopes she hasn’t been like this for the entire month and he hopes it won’t last the entire pregnancy either. “That’s it darling,” he praises once her sight is level on him. 
 “I’m glad you’re here.” It’s a soft whisper but Eddie catches it all the same. Her lower lip wobbles and before the tears even fall, Eddie hears it. The truth of the matter is that she’s scared and while she had friends, it was still a lot. 
“I’m happy to be here too. But you can let it out now, okay? I’m here.”
Valeria falls into his body, face buried into junction between his shoulder and neck. She shakes--like a leaf in a winter wind, Valeria shudders against him. “I don’t want to do this alone,” she sobs. 
“You won’t. You won’t do this alone. I’m here. Tammie’s here. Chels is too. You’re not alone.”
“Promise? I know it’s stupid. But I—,”
Eddie cups be back of her head, brushing ever so gently at the hairs at the nape of her neck. If only he could take the shakes, if only Eddie could pull the dead out of her bones. “No. It’s not stupid. I promise I’ll be here for you. You won’t be alone.” 
_____________________________
Eddie’s early. He knows that--knew it the moment he left his house at 7 in the morning. But he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. He woke around 4:30 in the morning, a thick heat consuming his chest. He turned the fan up, cracked open a window, but nothing brought in enough of a chill to allow him to drift back to sleep. When his clock ticked over to 6, he called it--showered, got dressed, ate breakfast and then got on the road. Being early be damned, Eddie was not going to show up late to this. Besides, the earlier he was the more time they had to talk. It seemed like all they did these days--talk, trying to plan out a future even when it seems so daunting. 
The front door has become an all too familiar sight. It’s a little after 9 now so Eddie knocks--twice and then waits. Valeria’s usually not far when he knocks. Just like always, the door opens a couple beats later. Valeria’s face is a little fuller now. She can keep food down more consistently now. But still struggles with seafood and beef. Eddie’s just grateful she’s not barfing up everything she eats anymore. 
“Come here often?” Eddie smiles. 
“Apparently you do.” Valera waves him inside. He toes off his shoes and drops the bag down in front of the couch. “Sorry to make you do this trek so much.”
“No, you need the appointments. I don’t mind. Besides, I’m sure the guys at the shop are thankful to get rid of me for a couple days here and there.”
“As long as you’re sure. Hungry? I just finished up some french toast and don’t mind sharing.”
Eddie nods, finger tips warm and itching to pull at one of the curls. He resists though. The casual displays of physical intimacy are at a snails pace. They hugged, occasionally held hands, but it was clearly a line that Valeria wasn’t going to cross soon so Eddie does his best to respect that limit. “I can go for a piece, if you’re sharing.”
Valeria’s kitchen is smaller than Eddie’s, a byproduct of the way the kitchen is sectioned off from the rest of the apartment. But it’s cozy to be in--the counters are lined with kitchen utensils in holders, flowers (a set that Eddie sent a few days prior and then another set that he’s not sure where they came from). There’s plates and bowls set out with the french toast, a fruit salad made by hand, and bacon in them. “Bacon okay too?”
“Fine with me.” Eddie hadn’t eaten much before leaving, knowing Valeria would offer up something once he arrived. If feeding someone is a love language, Valeria speaks it fluently. Eddie doesn’t mind though. He’s learned to speak it--accepting the offerings, finishing off what Valeria swears she can’t. If the stress weren’t getting to him like it was, he’s sure he would’ve gained ten pounds. 
“Everything okay? You look like you’re being haunted.”
Eddie takes the stretched out plate, watching the way her eyes assess him. They would always get each other. “Worried sick about you some days and making sure we can do this, feasibly, you know.”
“About that,” Valeria starts, sighing a little. Her own fork clinks as she assembles her plate too. 
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees when she looks at him. Her eyes say it all--we’re going to have to do something, make some sort of change.
There’s a moment of silence. Like neither one of them truly wants to crack open the surface. Nothing changes if they don’t go deeper. Valeria speaks first and the moment finally cuts loose from their shared fear. “I could move to Hawkins. Try and transfer to that GAP.”
Eddie scoffs, sliding his plate onto the dining room table before facing Valeria fully. He gets the gesture, what she’s probably offering, but the last thing he want if for Valeria to be miserable. “You’d hate living in Hawkins, Val. I’ve lived there my whole life and it’s not getting better.”
“Well, I don’t want you to sacrifice the car shop. You’re managing the shop. All your friends are there in Hawkins.”
“I’m not pulling you away from the people who can support you right now. You said so yourself you don’t want to do this alone. Tammie and Chels are your rocks right now and I think it’s important you feel supported.”
“You matter too, Eddie. I’m sure Steve and Robin are keeping you sane right now.”
“They are,” he admits. He talked to either one of them at least once a day. Buckley is ecstatic at the prospect of a tiny human addition. But Harrington, Harrington was keeping Steve on the straight and narrow. There were many times Eddie found himself in the aisle in the grocery store staring at the bottles. His fingers itched to grab one, thinking if he could just forget the fear and the anxiety it make things so much easier. Harrington’s cellphone number is etched into the tips of Eddie’s fingers from how many times he’s dialed it. Eddie doesn’t really want to drink. He just wants something to take the edge off. Drinking was stupid though.
“Is that why you’re building muscle? Challenging Steve now?”
Eddie lets himself clamber backwards into the edge of the dining room table at the jab to his bicep. He hisses like it hurts, though it doesn’t. “Be careful. I’m sensitive.”
Valeria snorts, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. “Need someone to rub your back?”
Eddie lets the tuft of laughter fall from his lips. “Harrington’s suggested I go to the gym when I feel…out of it.”
“Out of it?”
Eddie shrugs, pushing up to help her. He closes the cabinet for her and pulls out the jug of orange juice. “Out of it…you’re not the only one scared. I worry I’m going to fuck it all up. When that happens, I think about doing stupid shit.”
“Stupid shit? Eds, I don’t--you can talk to me.”
“It’s not that I think about drinking myself to death. But just. It’s stupid.”
“So you think about drinking? When you’re out of it?”
Eddie nods at the question. “Dad was an alcoholic. Never violent. Just…couldn’t function without it sometimes.”
Her eyes widen, the realization falling deeply onto her face. “No, no, you talk to me, Eddie. Okay? You call me. I don’t care what time it is. You call me, okay? Please.”
Eddie wants to recoil. Her fingers are cold from the juice, but her hold is firm and Eddie can only nod. “I’ll call you. When it gets bad.”
“You promise?”
“Yeah, I promise.”
Valeria nods. Her eyes stern, but her runs her hands down Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you can’t talk to me.”
“I don’t--it’s just I know you’re dealing with a lot. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m piling on.”
“You don’t. It’s a me thing.” Because it’s Eddie’s own anxieties. He knows he could talk to Valeria, but he doesn’t want to add on when she may not have the capacity. “I don’t want to burden you.”
“You’re not a burden, Eddie. A pain in my ass, but never a burden.”
“Sometimes I forget there’s a difference.” Eddie’s not sure where that came from, when the lines had gotten blurred from him. But it’s the truth. He’d spent so much time trying not to be a bother, that he couldn’t tell when people wanted him around sometimes. 
Valeria steps in closer, body pressing flush into his. There’s just a few inches between their faces, but Valeria closes that gap too, pressing her forehead into his. Eddie encases her waist with his arms. It’s a slightly strange feeling, the slight bump of her stomach pressed into his. “Then let me remind you of the difference, okay?” 
“Okay,” Eddie whispers, eyes fluttering close. Valeria goes to pull away, but Eddie squeezes. He doesn’t want to let her go just yet. “Can I have one more minute?”
“Of course, you can.”
Eddie misses this, holding her close. He’s missed the way she slots against him, head tucking into his shoulder. They’re like puzzle pieces slotted together to bring to life a fuller picture. Her breath tickles against his neck, but Eddie leans into the feeling. It lets him know she’s still real. 
“Did you get a new body wash?” Valeria asks after a minute.
“Is it bad?”
“No, no, it smells really good.”
Eddie snorts. “Yeah, it’s new.”
“Smells good enough to eat.”
“No, that’s what your french toast is for. You can’t make our baby a cannibal without their consent first.” Eddie noses her temple. She still smells the same. Always has. It’s a true solace. When he leaves, his clothes still smell like her and he can carry the scent for a day or two longer in his jacket and hair of the candles she burns, the perfume she wears on occasion. Eddie cups the back of her head, lips pressing into the warm skin of her forehead. “We’ll make it, right?”
“We have so far. I have faith,” Valeria returns. There’s no hesitation in her response and Eddie thinks maybe he can believe that too. They resume their breakfast, hands finding each others under the table, sitting shoulder to shoulder instead of across from each other. 
“Do you think moving into Indy is a good idea?” Eddie poses. He’s situated at Valeria’s vanity as she scraps through all the items in her closet. She pulls out a sweater--baby blue, and holds it up in front of her. “It’s cute.”
Valeria huffs and throws it back into the closet. “You said that about the last top. And I don’t think it’s a bad one. When are you thinking about it? My lease is up in April, another two months.”
Eddie’s situation was a tad more complicated. He’d paid off the mortgage on the trailer a few years ago, but he was still paying the land rent. If he wanted to move, he’d have to find a way to sell the trailer. Which wouldn’t be terrible, but it would be tedious. “Is this about the sweater or something else?”
“I don’t feel like any of my clothes fit right.”
“You’re growing a baby. Things are going to grow and change for a little bit. I really do think the blue top is the right one.”
Valeria nods and pulls it back out. “So Indy? You’re sure about that?”
“It’s close enough to home. Neither one of us has bullshit from our hometowns toto worry about. Still close enough that folks can visit.”
“What do you think about Franklin? Closer to Indy, but maybe not as crowded?”
“Oh, God, babe,”  Eddie fakes a gag. “No. We are both not built for a town like that.”
Valeria snorts, slipping into a pair of black leggings. “Okay, fair. Franklin may not be our cup of tea. But you sure you want to dive into city life? A small town boy like yourself,” Valeria’s voice dips into a slight, albeit slightly off Southern twang. 
Eddie pushes up, noticing a slight struggle Valeria’s diving into with the pants. He kneels in front of her, hand coming to her knee to settle her squirming. Eddie pulls the excess fabric up and off her heels. He then stands to help get the rest up her hips. “I think it’s time for the small town boy like me to get the hell out of there.” Satisfied that the pants are up and straight, he taps the end of her nose. “Gold earrings?”
“When do I ever go for anything different?”
“Never. Can I choose?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
Eddie heads over to the vanity, fingers tracing over her jewelry. “Leave the shoes alone and let me get them please.” He spots her glare in the mirror and laughs as she settles onto the edge of the bed. It’s not a hard choice, Eddie’s always gravitated to simple. But he still reviews each pair of earrings before settling on a pair of gold holds with her name written on the inside of them. 
“You know I’m not so pregnant I can’t do this by myself.”
“And do I look like I give a shit?” Eddie returns, grabbing a pair of slip on Vans for her. 
“Not in the slightest,” she sighs. “So Indy?”
“If you’re okay with it?” Eddie counters, helping her into her shoes. “No, let’s go. We have an appointment to make. A baby to see!”
Valeria takes his outstretched hands. “I think it’s a boy.”
“Nah,” Eddie laughs. “Totally a girl.”
_____________________________
She told him he could do this. Yet his fingers still shake. His body tells him to call Harrington like he always does when it gets like this. But he watches Valeria’s name in the phone in slightly blurry vision. The grocery store is a shitty place to have a moment like this, but it’s where Eddie finds himself. In another month Valeria’s lease will lapse. She’s already started selling some things in her house. Eddie’s still hasn’t found someone to take over the trailer. Hasn’t started packing up anything. They have a place they like in Indy, but are on the waitlist until June. In the meantime, Valeria’s taking a position at The GAP in the mall and Eddie’s transitioning Gareth and Jeff to take over the shop. 
But Eddie hasn’t done a goddamn thing to get movement on the trailer--packing, selling or otherwise. And fuck the paralysis that comes with the fear. Before Eddie can over think it too much, he presses SEND. The phone rings and rings in his ear. “Shit, shit, shit. She’s probably at work, Munson. She told you she had a shift.”
“Eddie? Everything okay?
“Oh, thank fuck,” Eddie exhales. 
“Baby? What’s going on?”
“Tell me to walk out of this grocery store, please. I don’t need it.”
“Eddie, get out of that aisle, please. Okay. It’s okay if you’re out of it. If it’s too much, but you don’t need anything on that aisle.”
One step. That’s all he gets. But if he hooks a left at the end of this aisle, he’ll run into the cookies. “I’m scared.”
“Why? What are you scared about?”
“We’re supposed to get the new place in June and I haven’t done anything. Nothing. Jack fucking shit. I’m just…stuck right now.”
“Want to vent or want some help?”
“I think I need Jesus and this is coming from me.” It’s not an answer. Eddie knows that, but it’s okay. “I just. I only got one step. There’s so many more.”
“Give me one more. One step is perfect. Just one more.”
He does. He takes another step away from the aisle. “What should I do? Just talk to me. Scream. I don’t care.”
“Enlist Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Erica. Yes, tell her I told her to be there because she will keep you all in line. Start just with your closet. What are clothes you don’t need anymore? Clear that out. Just one room at a time. You won’t be able to get through it all. It’s just a start.”
“But then who takes over the trailer? It’s paid off.”
“I’m sure the kids are probably feigning to get out from the parents. Maybe two of them are willing to take it over.”
Eddie gets to the end of the aisle and stops. It makes perfect sense. All he needed to do was take it in increments. Tiny pieces at a time. And while Harrington, Buckley, Wheeler and Byers all had places of their own. It didn’t meant the kids wouldn’t be looking for something else. The boys would probably enjoy having their own space. While Mike was still settling in from his post graduation life, Dustin and Lucas could forge something of their own. “Woman, you are a fucking genius. God damn.”
“You going to work out now?”
“I need to bypass the cookie aisle first. But why? Why are you saying it like that?”
“Nothing, no reason! But you might be able to transfer the paid off trailer to a couple of the kids and they can take over.”
“No, no, no. We are not bypassing the fact that you totally have the hots for my newly deeper defined biceps.”
“No, I don’t!” Valeria huffs. It’s indignant, fully. 
“Oh, yes you do, sweetheart. Yes, you do,” Eddie teases. He continues on, waving at Dustin who waves in return. “Just admit it, love. Just fucking admit it.”
“Eddie, I do not have the hots for your new deeper defined biceps or large pecs. Absolutely not.”
Eddie’s grin is deep. Outside in the fresh air, he feels like he can breathe again. “Yes, you do. Let me hear you say it.”
“Nope. Nope, this is about you.”
“Yes, it is about me. Flatter my ego, lovebug. Please.”
Valeria’s laughter is big and loud. Eddie’s chest surges with pride at the sound. “Eddie, no. I’m not going to admit that pregnancy hormones are raging. Nope, nope, nope.”
“Are they raging my dear?”
“Maybe,” Valeria grumbles. “But again, this isn’t about me. This is about you. You don’t have to have it all sorted right this second. We can take it one piece at a time.”
Eddie climbs into his truck, phone pressed to his ear by the work of his shoulder. “Yeah, one piece at a time. Okay, I can do that. I can gather the troops for the weekend. You don’t have anything this weekend either?”
“No, no, next appointment is the week after.”
Eddie nods. “Got it. It’s on my calendar already. The weekend, cleaning out my closet. Yeah, yeah, doable.”
“You can call me while you do it too. If that’ll help.”
“I’ll get distracted, with you on the line. Never get any work done.”
“I expect a report though. Itemized. Head to toe.”
Eddie nods. “I-I can do that. Thank you, Val.”
“You’re so welcome, Eds.”
“Enjoy the rest of your shift knowing I’m going to be very sweaty in the gym.”
Valeria groans. “Fuck you. Enjoy the workout. I’ll call you once I get home okay?”
“Sounds like a plan, sugar. Talk to you then.”
“You’re getting your rocks off on this, aren’t you?” Valeria asks through a laugh. 
“Only just a little,” Eddie answers. “Only just a little. I like making you sweat.”
“Just for that. The next time you visit, you’re rubbing my feet and you don’t get to control the remote.”
“Oh!” Eddie huffs. It's a ritual now during his visits. He sets up her foot spa--that he bought unnecessarily--and gives her a pedicure and foot rub. In return, Valeria gets to bliss out for a little bit and she forfeits all power over the remote. Eddie only teasingly stated that he’d only keep it up if he could control the remote to the TV and the color of the polish. Valeria freely relinquished the control. “That’s so not fair! If you tell me I can’t pick out the nail polish color, I’d rather you just take me out back and shoot me.”
“I’d never go that far, Eddie. Love you.”
He freezes, air catching in his throat. “Valeria.”
“I know what I said, Eddie. It’s not the pregnancy hormones. I’ve always loved you.”
“I-I don’t feel like I’ve earned that back. And I know it’s ridiculous but-”
“Eddie, you’re going on a spiral. Love isn’t earned. Trust is, but not love. You have never had to earn love and anyone who has told you otherwise is a dispshit. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I have always and will always love you. It took me a while to trust, to take a leap. But you’re too stinkin’ cute not to love.”
Eddie blinks. It’s only with the action that he realizes there are tears in his eyes. Snot drips down his nose and he sucks it back. He uses the back of his hand to clear his face. “I’m glad you trust me again. And I’m so fucking floored to hear you say that. To hear you say you love me. I love you too.”
“I know.” From faintly behind her, Eddie catches Valeria’s name called out. She sighs. “I’m sorry, Eds. I gotta go. They need up at the registers for something. I took my headset out to talk.”
“Yeah, no, no. I get it. Go. I’ll be here.”
“I’ll call you here soon.” Their goodbyes are clipped and Eddie drops his head to his steering wheel. I’ve always loved you. Oh even if the rest of the day is a disaster, Eddie’s never going to get a higher high. 
_____________________________
“She’s so stinkin’ tiny!” Eddie whispers. Valeria laughs, but Eddie doesn’t care, too caught up in the little girl in his arms. He’s repeated the mantra god only knows how many times since they brought her home. In the hospital Eddie wanted to keep his mind on getting Valeria through delivery. It’s a type of pain that he could never fully comprehend but sounded and appeared to be exhausting. Now Eddie can marvel. He can watch his baby girl’s face in blatant awe. 
“She doesn’t eat like she’s tiny though,” Val snorts. 
Eddie nods, taking the pad of his finger to trace her cheek. Denver Edith Munson in his arms--all seven pounds and 3 ounces of her. Though he’d argue there were built a few more ounces than before on her. She’s much too pale right now to see who she really will take after, but for the moment, Eddie sees the slope of Valeria’s brow and his nose. His entire universe feels wrapped up in a white and pink blanket. Denver’s eyes remain unopened but she has the cutest scrunch of her nose. There in the small dusting of freckles on her cheek, Eddie can see his heart resting in the constellation. A centimeter really in the grand destiny of the world but his little girl holds the essence of his heart on that one little cluster. 
“I’m going to teach you all sorts of things, kiddo, okay? Stuff that will give your Mom a heart attack, but it’s okay. She’ll go easy on you. You’ll probably be sick of me sooner rather than later. But god, I’m going to be there for everything, alright? Every single thing. Giant poops. Skinned knees. Boyfriends. Your first drink. License. I love you, you know? Love you so much.”
A soft grunt greets him in return, Denver’s face pinched with the nose. 
“Maybe that giant poop is sooner than you think,” Valeria teases. 
“Oh God, I can handle this. Totally. I can totally handle this,” Eddie mutters. He’s not freaking out. Never, it’s just poop. Plenty of people change diapers. It can’t be that hard. He’s watched Valeria do it. Nurses helped in the hospital. It’s not like it’s defusing a bomb. Changing a diaper is a reasonable task and something anyone can handle. 
“Want to tag me in?” Valeria asks. 
“No! Absolutely not. You need your rest.” 
“Start by getting a clean diaper, honey.” Valeria directs from the couch, watching from above. 
Eddie assembles all the necessities-- the changing mat, a fresh diaper, wipes, trash bag for the soiled diaper, a little bit of baby powder. “The poop guardian angel,” Eddie teases, popping the secure tabs on the soiled diaper. 
“Well, given that you have the new diaper upside down, I think it’s warranted.” 
Eddie balks. “I haven’t even gotten her cleaned up yet, what are you on?”
Valeria grins. “Just making sure you’re paying attention to the lecture.”
He flicks her off, and Valeria can only laugh. The sound bounces in their living room--a bright summer day in Indy surrounding them. There’s still some clouds in the sky and given how dry it’s been in the summer, there’s an expectation that the summer showers will come in heavier in the following weeks. The thunder still rattles Denver--the sound of her cries still breaking Eddie’s heart. Together they’ll get through though. Always together. 
Positive that Denver’s fresh top to bottom, Eddie slides the new diaper under her. “Now, we secure the tabs, and there! Bada bing bada boom! Easy peasy!” Eddie rubs his nose over Denver’s. “Do you feel secure, madam?”
A snort sounds from around them. It’s soft and sounds like it almost didn’t fully come out. “You’re such a dork.”
Eddie grins, looking up from Denver to Valeria. Her eyes are closed and he knows soon she’ll be drifting off for a nap. Not that he minds. There’s just dishes left and the laundry going in the dryer. Things he can surely handle to give Valeria a little extra sleep. “Your dork, though.” He nods down to the gold band on her finger. Not that she can see the motion. “Stuck with me.”
“I tossed out the receipt. I chose this,” Valeria grins, lifting her hand.
Eddie’s glad she did. It hadn’t been easy but the effort had been worth it in the end.  “Perfect. Because I wasn’t going to go quietly into that good night.” 
“I most certainly am. Right to sleep.” 
“Can you spare me just two minutes while I go wash my hands?” 
“Absolutely I can.” Valeria’s quick to scoop Denver up, slating her against the expanse of Val’s chest. Eddie’s knees pop as he stands. Surely being nearly 40 would do that but he’s met with barely concealed giggles. He lets it go with an eye roll, turning to head to the bathroom. “Hate when you walk away but I love to watch you go,” Valeria teases.
“You can’t steal my line! Totally unfair!” 
Eddie’s only in the bathroom for a couple minutes. Nothing long at all. But when he returns to the living room it’s quiet. Valeria’s light snores make barely a dent over the hum over the A/C unit. Denver is tucked under Valeria’s chin, one of Valeria’s hand on her back. The dryer shrills and Eddie shuffles down to the closet. He’s quick to shut off the noise and looks back down the hall to see if it’s awakened them. But it doesn’t seem to as they still rest comfortably on the couch. That’s a sight that Eddie thinks he would never want to get used to, so he’s always struck with a sense of awe and wonder each day. 
“Leave the fitted sheet, I’ll do it.”
Eddie giggles at the gruff sound of Valeria’s voice. “Thanks babe.” He should’ve at least expected Valeria to stir at the sound. 
“I swear I’ll be up in a minute. Just-just checking my eyeballs for cracks.”
“Keep checking them for as long as you need.”
Tagging: @munsonology @avidreader73 @2clones-1kamino
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