#and that the next one is going to be more about dealing with that trauma and other secunits
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Growing Pains Part 6
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Word count: ~9.1k
Summary: Little Nat is almost 13 and school’s a bitch. Retired mob boss turned stay-at-home mom Wanda has to figure out how to deal with bullies at her daughter’s school.
A/N: Credit to @rianncreates for this fic idea. Enjoy 😘
Warnings: Fluff, teen angst, injury, reference to previous injury/trauma, bullies, and mentions medicinal drug use
You and Wanda are the only ones who end up eating some dinner. After Natalya was gone for nearly an hour, you went to check on her only to find her asleep in bed. You didn’t want to wake her and despite knowing she’d be up later wanting to eat; you and Wanda didn’t wait around for her. You both felt a little bad about how disappointed your daughter was, but if anything, you supposed this was a learning lesson. A tough learning lesson that you hadn’t wanted her to have to face anytime soon.
When you and Wanda make it to bed neither of you are feeling very good. Wanda’s stressed about what will happen once Stacy’s back at school, and you’re worried about what Nat’s going to resort to now that her plan didn’t work. You suspected that her friends helped her figure this out because your daughter’s not usually one to break the rules without very good reason, or proper motivation.
You sigh as you roll over onto your back and try to think about something other than Little Nat right now. You turn to see Wanda on her phone, and it doesn’t take too much thought for you to guess what she’s doing.
“What did Pietro say?”
You almost texted Yelena, but you wanted to talk to her in person instead of just being avoided over the phone. You weren’t in the mood to deal with it now anyway, and you needed to give yourself time to calm down before you took out your annoyance on your friend.
Wanda shakes her head with a sigh as she puts her phone down. Pietro’s not being very cooperative anyway and she needs to go to bed soon. She’s exhausted and it’s almost 11, but both of you were too high strung to sleep. You’re stressed and you want to go upstairs and smoke some, but you’re sure Wanda wouldn’t like it. You consider bringing it up anyway after she tells you what Pietro had said.
“He’s not taking responsibility. Like that’s a surprise. He won’t be at the game tomorrow either.”
You frown but say nothing as you reach out to turn off your lamp with a sigh. You want to sleep and forget about today for a little while. You close your eyes and miss your wife turning to you with a frown of her own. She checks the clock on the bedside table before shaking her head and turning off her light too. You wait until Wanda lies down beside you before speaking. You hear one of the dogs shake downstairs, and you briefly wonder what they’re up to before turning your attention to your wife. You don’t exactly disagree with what she’s said today, but you aren’t happy with the outcome. You’re not sure you would have done anything differently, but you’re wishing you’d done more to reassure Natalya that things would work out.
“I wish we could make this easier for her.”
Wanda reaches out for your hand and you squeeze it before rolling onto your side so you’re closer to your wife. You focus on the smell of her shampoo and the clean sheets instead of the nagging sense of failure that’s been plaguing you since leaving the office this afternoon. Wanda wraps an arm around your waist before kissing your cheek. She hides her face in your shoulder as she nods in agreement and holds you tighter.
“Me too, detka, but we’ll take care of her.”
You think about this as you fall asleep, and when you wake up the next morning, you’re already plotting how you two could possibly have as much pull as a PTA president and a rich CEO.
Natalya sulks over her breakfast before she leaves for school with her mom. It’s a quiet car ride and by the time she drops off her daughter, Wanda’s feeling very guilty. She races back home and grabs Rogue before deciding to go out for a bit. She needs to clear her mind and she’s craving a certain kind of pastry that she hasn’t learned to make yet. She feels like stress eating, and she’s jumping back into her car as soon as Rogue’s in the back seat. She sighs heavily before getting buckled and looking at her dog in the rear-view mirror.
“Ready, bud?”
Nat barely pays attention in school that day despite her best efforts. She’s glad to have Stacy gone for the rest of the week, but she can’t help but think about how she’ll come back with a vengeance. She barely eats or talks during lunch, and she gives Taylor most of it as a silent thank you for yesterday. The only thing Nat asked her was if she’d gotten in trouble at all for her involvement. She’s been careful not to mention her name, but Nat remembered belatedly that there were cameras in most of the hallways at school.
It wasn’t until right before the game that Taylor dared to ask Nat how she was feeling. She’d been down all day and she was tired from not having anything to eat all day. She felt like taking a nap, not playing against another team that was more closely matched to them than the one they’d played on Monday. She’s not up for that at the moment, but she’s just going to have to try. She knows that she won’t get pizza today, and she’d already told her friends that the sleepover for this weekend was off because she was grounded. They said that it was fine and that they wouldn’t go either because they didn’t want her to feel left out. She’d insisted it was fine, but the idea of pizza right now made her want to cry. She was so hungry.
“I’m just disappointed. I thought someone would give a shit, but not even my moms did.”
Nat frowns when she says this and she considers taking it back when Taylor beats her to it. She shakes her head as she asks the obvious question. Based on what Nat had told her, unsurprisingly her parents had been horrified and angered by the idea that Nat had been dealing with Stacy’s torment for months. However, apparently they’d just gone with the three day suspension, and grounded her for her prank.
“They give a shit, Nat. They’re probably just working on their plan of attack.”
Nat shrugs in indifference as she throws the ball back to the other brunette with a heavy sigh. She glances at her watch to see how much time until the other team should arrive, but she picked the worst possible time to do it. Taylor had failed to notice that she wasn’t paying attention, and she threw the ball back to her friend with a huff. She realized that Nat was distracted until she saw the top of her friend’s head instead of her glove.
“Oh shit!”
“Ow, fuck!”
Nat muttered a curse under her breath as her head swam and she fell back onto the grass with a muffled thud. She just sighs in defeat as she closes her eyes and just waits until she feels a little less dazed.
“Shit, Nat are you okay?”
You’re about to leave work to head for Nat’s game when your phone rings as you shut your office door. You frown and stop short to see who’s calling. Wanda. You answer quickly as you continue on your way to grab your dog before heading out.
“Hey, Wands.”
Today had been a little difficult for you. Despite mostly doing admin work, you struggled to stay focused given that you weren’t talking to people all day long like usual. Your mind wandered and you found yourself thinking about Nat’s dilemma for a good hour after your lunch had finished. You concluded that the way to get more of a say in this you’d have to throw some money at the issue. Well this was one option, but before you went too far down that path, you wanted to talk to Wanda. You hadn’t expected her to call you before you saw her at the game though.
Wanda had been finishing up her third pastry when she got a call from an unknown number. She answers it quickly as she takes her last bite and hurries to swallow before speaking.
“Hello?”
“Hi Mrs. Maximoff, this is Coach Frost. Have you left for school yet?”
Wanda’s in the car headed for school before she decides to call you to let you know what happened. She’s still a little suspicious about what happened. Given Natalya’s mood, she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d done something that would get her out of the game this afternoon. She was of course worried when she heard the words ‘possible concussion’, and she had already checked with her doctor to see if she should be worried. So she already knows what to look for, and hopefully how to answer your questions as she presses a couple of buttons on her display.
“Hi, Y/n, have you left work yet?”
When you tell Wanda that you’re about to she shakes her head before she stops at a stop sign with a sigh.
“Well Natalya isn’t going to be playing today. Her coach just called and said she had an accident.”
You stop in your tracks on your way into the dog runs and you just stand against the door with a frown. You see Boone curled up on his giant bed before you glance back out toward the treatment area.
“What kind of accident? Is she okay?”
You think of the several ways that Nat’s been hurt before, and it’s the second one you think of that’s right.
“She took a ball to the forehead.”
You scowl at the thought before looking at your watch and realizing that you’re going to leave regardless. You want to get home and see how Nat’s doing, but you’ll probably beat them home if you leave now. You walk into the runs and let Boone out before scratching his head with a smile.
“Damn, okay. Well, I’ll meet you at home then.”
Natalya’s holding an ice pack on her forehead when her mom shows up. She’s lying down on the bleachers while the rest of the team continues to warm up for the game. The other team has just arrived, but Natalya doesn’t pay them any mind as she keeps her eyes closed and tries to ignore the pounding of her head. She hears footsteps near her and she opens her eyes only to see the towel obscuring her view.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize you’d spaced out.”
Nat’s already shaking her head because she doesn’t blame her friend at all. She’s been so distracted today that even if this hadn’t happened, she could almost guarantee that during the game at some point she would have gotten hurt for her inattention.
“It’s not your fault. I’m distracted and I barely ate today.”
Taylor immediately feels guilty about this, but she doesn’t get a chance to apologize for this as well before she hears a familiar voice. She turns toward the parking lot to see Nat’s redhead mom and she tries to resist the urge to flinch guiltily. She tells her friend that her mom’s here, and Nat sits up slowly with a groan before she glances around for her mom. She feels her head swim, and she looks to Taylor with a small smile.
“Do you have anything to eat?”
Taylor runs off and is gone by the time Wanda comes up to her with a worried, curious look. She reaches out to help her daughter off the bleachers before wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“Are you okay, Natalya? What happened?”
Taylor’s back before Nat can answer, but the younger Maximoff just shakes her head because the details don’t matter. She smiles as her friend holds out a Gatorade and half of a sandwich with a bag of chips balanced on top of it.
“It was just an accident, Mama, I’m fine.”
“Here, Nat.”
Nat smiles as she reaches out to take what Taylor’s grabbed her with a wide smile. She has to stop herself from tearing it open right now and inhaling it in front of her mom and friend. Instead, she just thanks the other brunette before hugging her and turning toward her mom. She’d like to go home now.
“Thanks, T. Enjoy the pizza. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Wanda frowns as she leads her daughter back to the car to go home. She keeps stealing glances at the younger Maximoff who seems more upset than she was this morning when she left for school. Wanda feels guilty about this and wants to say something to make her feel better, but she’s not sure what she can say. She’d only just started to consider how she can undermine Stacy’s parents influence by gaining her own, and the options aren’t super appealing. One is to resort to blackmail, and that’s not a good idea for several reasons. She doesn’t want to make enemies over this, and she’s not sure how she could even find dirt on them. Another option is to go back to the principal alone and see if she has any advice. Wanda had been too shocked to really ask the appropriate questions earlier, and she needed to at least give her a call later.
The last and least favorable option that Wanda came up with was having her daughter change schools. She didn’t want to do this because Nat wouldn’t want to leave her friends, and by the time she made it to high school she’d be back at square one. Wanda didn’t want her to have to resort to this, but until she figured out how Stacy was going to act, the option would stay on the table.
Natalya barely acknowledges her dogs as you open the door when you hear the two of them arrive. Your gaze goes to your wife first who is frowning as she watches Natalya trudge into the house with a frown.
“Hey, Little Nat. How’s your head?”
Nat just shrugs before she mutters a response under her breath as she walks further into the house. She doesn’t even turn toward the kitchen and instead goes to sit at the table to work on homework. It’s only once she’s sitting down that she realizes she’s doesn’t even know if she has any homework. She hadn’t paid attention in school today, and she didn’t have her phone to ask her friends.
“Hi, Mom. It’s fine.”
You move out of the doorway so Wanda can step inside, and you both frown and watch your daughter fiddle with her backpack. She’s still dressed in her uniform, but it’s a lot cleaner than it usually is. This makes you feel even worse for some reason, and you shut the door behind your wife before following her lead. Wanda’s already headed toward Natalya with an ice pack wrapped in a dish towel and you stop at the fridge for a snack for your daughter.
“Do you have a lot of homework, milaya?”
Nat decides to just shake her head because she doesn’t feel like getting into it with them. She puts her bag on the ground to take the ice pack from her mom and hold it to her head with a sigh. She feels exhausted from the day of disappointment, and she’s tempted to just go to bed when she sees you holding her favorite food. She watches carefully as you set it in front of her while ignoring Wanda’s disapproving look. You know she doesn’t want Nat eating dessert before dinner, but you are sure that if you don’t get your daughter’s mood up somehow, she’ll just go to sleep without eating again.
“How about we work on it a little before dinner?”
Despite not wanting to let you spoil your grounded daughter, Wanda watches from the kitchen as you help Nat get a few assignments done. The dogs are sitting at your feet as you push the empty plate away from the scattered papers in front of you.
“What next, Little Nat?”
Wanda’s finishing up the salad as Natalya shakes her head and starts to clear the table for dinner. She wants to go to sleep, but she’s pretty sure that she’s going to have to eat something other than cheesecake tonight. She glances at the clock and realizes it’s a little early to eat, but since she’s not playing a game right now, there’s not much else to do. She isn’t allowed to watch tv or be on her phone, so it’s homework and bed for a while.
When the table’s set and Natalya’s back in her usual spot, she waits for her mom to bring her a plate. She’d tried to get up, but Wanda had insisted that she sit and drink more water. She’s sure Nat’s going to have a headache soon, if she doesn’t already, and she’s going to give her something for it after dinner. Nat tries not to grimace when she’s given her dinner and she sees her least favorite vegetable in front of her. She knows better than to say anything other than thank you, and she manages to eat most of her dinner without complaint.
You and Wanda mostly eat in silence as you exchange looks to try and figure out what to do. Today you’d spent a lot of time trying to figure out what to do about Nat’s predicament. You wanted to help Natalya but you only came up with slightly unethical and otherwise problematic options. Between you and Wanda, you had a feeling that she was going to need to do most of the heavy lifting. Not only were you busy with work, but Wanda had a way with people that made her the better option. You just had to run your idea by your wife a little later.
“My head hurts.”
Natalya’s loading the dishwasher when she ducks back down and stops before she can put a plate away. She closes her eyes as she starts to get lightheaded, and you’re quick to grab the plate from her before leading her toward a nearby chair. Wanda sets the rest of the dishes aside as she hurries to grab more water and a couple of pain killers for her daughter. She’s grimacing from where she sits beside you, and Wanda lowers the lights before handing you the medicine. You’re rubbing Nat’s back as you shoot her a concerned look that she misses completely as she squeezes her eyes shut. She’s mad at herself for spacing out earlier, and she wishes she’d seen Taylor throw that ball, but there’s nothing she can do about it now.
After reassuring her parents that she’s fine, and just needs to rest, she goes upstairs to bed with Rogue on her heels. He decides to hang out with her for a while, and by the time she’s in bed under the covers, he’s curled up on the ground beside her.
Nat tries to ignore the throbbing in her head as she reaches down to pet her dog with a smile. She taps his head and he sits up and turns to face her before licking her offered hand with a big, slimy tongue. Nat cringes, but continues to pet him as she tries to relax. She’s going to have to face her failure to get anything accomplished yesterday soon, but for now she just shifts closer to the wall so she can cuddle with her dog. She pats the empty space beside her on top of the comforter, and Rogue carefully jumps up to lie down beside her.
Natalya falls asleep first and Rogue stays with her for almost an hour before he has to go out for his last walk. Wanda sticks her head in the door and waves him over before leading him down the hall. You’re sitting downstairs eating on the couch as you stress over what you and Wanda are going to do. You’ve eaten more carrots than you really want, but you’re just trying to keep busy as you stare blankly at the screen in front of you. You’re not even sure what you’re watching, and Wanda comes to sit beside you after she’s let the dogs out one last time.
“You’re going to give yourself a stomachache.”
You drop the half carrot back into the bowl before you sigh in defeat. You set it down on the table in front of you before turning toward your wife with a sheepish look. She smiles at you before reaching out for your hands and squeezing them with a questioning look.
“What’s on your mind, detka?”
She has a fairly good idea of what’s been distracting you, so she’s really just asking to talk about it now. It’s the same thing that’s been bothering her, and she wants to get this worked out so you both can start to figure out how to make things right. She wants to do better for your daughter than 3-days suspension for a girl who’s been harassing her for months. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you would do anything for your daughter. The fact that she dealt with this for so long just made you more desperate to figure this out quickly.
You frown in contemplation before you confirm Wanda’s suspicions.
“I’m plotting. I want to be as influential as Stacy’s parents.”
Wanda smiles at the fact that you’re both on the same page, and she’s eager to talk this out with you. She reaches for the remote and mutes the television before leaning back against the couch with a sigh. She’d realized what the best option was, and she wanted to run it by you. It seemed a little drastic, and like a lot of work, but she was willing to do it if you didn’t shoot the idea down immediately. Neither of you realized that you were more on the same page than expected until Wanda speaks up.
“I actually had an idea.”
You nod as you turn so you’re facing your wife and giving her your full attention. Your gaze darts upstairs to make sure Nat’s door is still shut before propping your elbow on the couch and resting your head on your hand.
“Hit me with it, Wands.”
Your wife rolls her eyes, but she tells you what she’d come up with earlier today. She’d done an embarrassing amount of research and tried to figure out if this would be feasible, but she honestly just needed to talk to you. She would commit to anything if it meant Natalya would be free from torment in school. She just wanted to figure out how she should do it.
“Since I can’t exactly pose as a super-rich CEO, I was thinking I would try for President of the PTA.”
You had actually thought of this, but you didn’t think that Wanda would go for it. She kept herself busy during the days and despite taking a lot of responsibility for Natalya and her schooling, you didn’t think she’d want to get involved with the PTA. It honestly sounded horrible to you and you’d love to just throw money at any issue the school had instead of sit with in a room with a bunch of other parents trying to negotiate the best way to earn the school money. Wanda however apparently didn’t feel this way, and you were a little surprised.
“Really? I think you could pull off the hot-shot CEO.”
You’re smiling teasingly despite believing what you’re saying. Your wife is plenty smart and rich enough to play the part, but you realize that it could quickly become an issue if someone tried to do a background check. Wanda has decided to go the more believable route, and you love her for thinking things through.
Wanda shakes her head with an amused look as she considers your suggestion. She’d rather take the fight directly to the school and she decided that this was the best way to effectively go after Stacy’s mom.
“As fun as that sounds, Y/n, I think joining the PTA and running for president will be the better option.”
You can’t help the pleased smile that tugs at your lips as you think about your wife taking over the PTA. She might not be as well known, but she’s smart and resourceful, and certainly will become a force to be reckoned with. You reach out to take her hand before leaning in to kiss it with a sigh. You’re not sure how Wanda’s going to get started on all of this, but just having a decision makes you feel a little better. You can work out the details later, and you’ll try to help as much as possible. You just aren’t sure you’ll be as present as your wife at the many, many meetings.
“Sounds like a plan, my love.”
The next day Wanda spends most of her time outside either in the garden or on the deck with her dog. After getting her reassurance from you, she just needs to figure out what she should do now. She knows that she’s going to have to start going to meetings so she can get acquainted with the many parents she’ll be working with. The idea is a little daunting because she’s gone to maybe a half dozen fundraisers or PTA—run events since Natalya started middle school. She hadn’t felt a need to, and she’d mostly just donated money and left it at that. Now she needed to be a little more proactive if she wanted a chance to become the president.
Wanda’s little pool project in the basement was going to have to wait. Luckily she wasn’t too attached to the idea right now, and she’s ready to get started. The next PTA meeting is Tuesday evening, so Wanda had a lot of time to catch up on all current issues at school that required funding. She spent a couple of hours doing this while lying upstairs with her dog. She was lounging on the couch with her computer in her lap and Rogue’s head lying on her stomach. He was squished up next to her on the couch and as a result she was only a few inches from falling on the ground.
“Do you think this is going to work, bud?”
Wanda reaches out to scratch her dog’s head, and he just turns to her and licks her hand in response. It doesn’t really answer her question, but she smiles anyway as she continues to pet her dog. She sighs before moving to set her laptop on the table beside her and lying flat on the couch so she’s staring up at the sky. It’s nice out today, if a little hot, and she could fall asleep out here if she wasn’t afraid of sleeping past time to pick up Natalya.
She frowns at the thought of how subdued her daughter was this morning, and she hopes that she’ll be able to help with this soon. She almost wants to tell her that she’s can still have her sleepover this weekend with her friends but she doesn’t want to go back on this, well she does, but she knows that she should be a good parent and stick it out until Monday.
You didn’t seem to like the fact that Natalya was being punished, but you hadn’t decided to overrule her yet. You gave your daughter cheesecake, but then immediately served her least favorite vegetable. Wanda wondered how long it would take for her to make any sort of headway at school, but she had a feeling she’d have to tell Natalya of her plan before this happens because she can’t stand the idea of her being so disappointed for much longer.
She honestly doesn’t understand why Natalya did things the way she did. She takes after you more than she takes after her, and her clear desire to avoid conflict has made it so she let something horrible go on for far too long. You are truly guilty of this too, and she could recall multiple times in the past where you’ve tried to avoid conflict, and only been burnt by it. Wanda didn’t want this for her daughter, and she knew you didn’t either, so they were going to have to be more proactive.
Wanda decides to go inside once she hears Rogue beginning to pant from where he’s lying at her feet. She also is getting a little warm and wants to figure out dinner before she takes a nap. She’s stressed herself out thinking about all of the steps she’s going to have to take to infiltrate the PTA.
Honestly, the scariest part of it isn’t being in a room with a bunch of parents trying to figure out how to earn money for the school. It doesn’t sound appealing, especially because she won’t know anyone, and she’s not looking forward to it. That said, she’s mostly worried about putting herself out there and being faced with too nosey or suspicious people.
Since quitting her job, she’s kept a low profile for a good reason. She had dedicated all of her time to raising her daughter and she hadn’t worked so she barely saw people unless she was on an errand. This was always brief and she didn’t have any friends outside of the family for this reason. You knew people from work, and you sometimes went out with them, but Wanda only spent time with the family. She was fine with this, but she wondered if by joining the PTA she would be opening herself up to having to be more social. She feared that the more people she met, the more likely someone would be too curious, recognize her, or stumble upon the truth about her past.
You didn’t have an issue with being recognized for obvious reasons. Once you thought someone had recognized you and you’d been a little worried about it, but luckily it turned out to be nothing. You and Wanda had been careful, especially when Natalya was young because you didn’t want to risk it.
Now you used the excuse of being older and further from Wanda’s time with the mob as the main reason for why people didn’t recognize you. You of course had considered the dangers of Wanda becoming more involved in school, but you weren’t sure that anything would really happen. You and Wanda were both more concerned about helping your daughter, so you were willing to take the risk. The worst that could happen is that Wanda and the family is revealed and you have to deal with the fall out of that. It could be messy and undoubtedly expensive but Wanda’s been on the right side of the law for years.
She’d even stopped getting looked at whenever she was unfortunate enough to walk by a police officer.
The biggest concern honestly was Natalya. You didn’t want Natalya to know about what her mother did for nearly 2 decades. It would raise a lot of questions, and knowing how bad your daughter’s anxiety could get, you would worry about how she might react. So you and Wanda had talked about it more last night after you woke up to find that your wife was fretting. You’d sat up so you wouldn’t fall back asleep, and you and Wanda had talked for about an hour. You wanted to make sure that she felt comfortable doing this, and you also made sure that she knew how grateful you were that she was willing to do this for Natalya. You knew she was putting herself out of her comfort zone, but she wanted to help her daughter.
Neither of you wanted Natalya to have to deal with something like this again.
You curse under your breath as you barely escape being bitten by a cat who really doesn’t want you to brush out the mats on her back. She’s fearful mostly, but she’s certainly not afraid to strike at anything that’s close. She’s already scratched her owner and your assistant, so you decided to take over holding her while someone else brushes. You take the towel loosely wrapped around her, and make sure she’s nice and secure in a kitty burrito before taking a deep breath.
“Let’s try this one more time.”
You didn’t like to push cats when they weren’t feeling up to something, but this owner was being very insistent. You’d told him that you’d try your best, and as long as no one else got hurt you were just going to push through it. You were almost done, and then you would get to eat lunch.
Luckily a few minutes later, you were done and no one else was injured. Now you just have to send home the pissed off cat and hope that she doesn’t resent her owner forever. As you make your way up the stairs to grab your lunch, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You glance at your watch and see a text from your brother-in-law. You frown slightly but then you see what it says and you can’t help but laugh.
Do you think that Little Nat would want to go on a camping trip for her birthday? You and Wanda are invited as well, of course.
You’re mostly laughing because you know that Wanda will not want to go on this trip. As much as she loves you, she does not love camping and no amount of begging will get her to go with you and Natalya. You honestly aren’t a huge fan either, and you know that you’ll pass on this opportunity as well because you want Natalya to have some time with her uncle.
Despite being a little sketchy at times with his less than stellar decisions, you thought that Pietro was a good uncle. He loved his niece and would do anything she asked of him. That said, he made sure to double check when the request seemed a little unadvisable because he’d faced his sister’s wrath enough to know that he didn’t want to do it again. When he’d taken Natalya to an amusement park one day instead of going to school, Wanda had raised hell and promised him that he would be banned from seeing Natalya for months if he ever did something like that again.
You consider asking Wanda if she’s okay with Pietro taking Natalya out, but you figure she won’t complain. The brunette’s birthday is only a couple of months away, and you and Wanda honestly haven’t talked about it much. Your daughter is not one who likes to have parties. She gets overwhelmed by having too much attention on her, and she prefers to have a night at home with family and a very special dinner. She enjoys having an excuse to eat her favorites and cook with her moms. Last year you let her watch a horror movie that Wanda had to sit through too, and that had been an experience in itself.
After telling Pietro that you think Nat would enjoy it, you sit down in your office with a sigh. You take out your food and stare at it for a bit before shaking your head. You’re not really hungry anymore for some reason, and you glance out the window with a small smile when you see how nice out it is. You decide sit outside for a while until you feel hungry, and you grab your phone before heading back downstairs.
You’re hoping the rest of the day will fly by because you can’t wait to get home.
Natalya’s waiting for her mom to pick her up from practice when she decides that she’s going to stand up to Stacy. It might just be because she’s angry and not in the presence of the blonde at the moment, but Nat thinks she can do it. She knows she can’t be like Taylor and threaten bullies without batting an eye, but she wants to try. She doesn’t really care if she gets in trouble at this point because what was going to happen to her? Now that the principal knew that Stacy had been bothering her for months, would she really be kicked out for retaliating?
As long as she didn’t do anything too extreme, and she didn’t instigate anything, she would be fine. Right? Taylor had left practice before she could ask her opinion, but she was almost sold on her idea by the time she sees her mom’s car pull up.
“Hi Natalya, how was practice?”
The entire ride home is spent chattering as Natalya just says anything that comes to mind. Everything but her new plan. She is almost done with 8th grade, and pretty soon she’ll be in high school. She doesn’t want to start those four years with Stacy still being on her ass. She’s not going to put up with it anymore. She’ll face her tormenter head on, even if it kills her.
“Mom’s home already?”
Wanda is a little surprised to see that you’re home before them, and she frowns when she realizes you’re not in the kitchen. Boone must be with you because Rogue is the only pet downstairs waiting for them when they arrive. Natalya pets him with a smile as she looks around curiously for her other mom. Wanda notes the few things of yours lying around that tell her that you were in a hurry. Your bag’s hanging on the hook by the door that only she and Nat use, you might put the dogs’ leashes there, but never any of your things. Next, she sees your shoes discarded behind the couch with Boone’s leash and his bed that you usually take with you to work.
“I’ll be right back to start dinner.”
Nat just nods as she sits down at the table and takes out her planner. She luckily only has a couple of assignments to complete tonight, and she’s hoping that she can get them done before dinner. She doesn’t notice as her redheaded mom goes upstairs and sticks her head in the bedroom. When she doesn’t find you taking a nap or in the bathroom, she figures that she knows where you are.
The stiffness in your back that started midday was still bothering you when you arrived home. It wasn’t your normal pain, at least not the same intensity, but the tingly feeling you got made you decide to try the weed that Yelena had gotten you. You head upstairs with Boone and go directly for the safe. A few minutes later, you have a joint and a lighter and you lead Boone to the third-floor deck where you can stretch out and try to feel better.
You know that Wanda will be back with Natalya soon, so you try to make it quick. This of course doesn’t happen, and even after almost half an hour you don’t feel like getting up and heading back downstairs. Once you finish the weed, you lie back down and let Boone jump up to sit on your feet. Your back still aches, but the drugs are definitely helping and you are almost asleep when your wife comes to find you.
Wanda notices the smell immediately after she opens the door to the deck on the third floor that you’ve taken to smoking on. She doesn’t see you immediately, but she can tell where you are by the appearance of Boone’s head over the couch when she opens the door. She quickly rounds the couch and sees that you’re sleeping curled up in a fetal position with a pillow held in your arms. She notices the lighter that tells her that her suspicions were right.
She’s reluctant to wake you, but she doesn’t want you to sleep too long now and then have trouble tonight. She also wants you at dinner so she gently reaches out for your shoulder after greeting Boone with a quick scratch.
“Y/n? Are you awake?”
By how fast your eyes open, Wanda realizes that you must not have been asleep yet and you’re quickly smiling as you roll onto your back and look up at your wife. You feel pleasantly high, but not overly so as you stare up at Wanda without making any effort to stand up.
“Hi, Wands. You’re back.”
Wanda just smiles at you as she nods and holds out her hand to help you sit up. You take it gratefully, and manage not to cringe as she helps pull you up so you’re leaning back against the couch. Your feet meet the floor and you turn to your dog with a smile before taking a deep breath.
“Is it dinner time?”
Wanda nods and you’re getting to your feet before she even opens her mouth. You are the kind of high that makes you very hungry, and you are willing to help however you can if it ensures that you eat sooner rather than later. Wanda isn’t in as much of a hurry though, and she catches your arm as you try to head back inside. You know what’s coming and you are glad that you can say that you’re feeling a little better. You’re hoping this will improve as the weed circulates through your system, but there’s only one way to find out.
“Are you feeling okay, detka?”
You take Wanda’s hand before kissing her cheek and then lips briefly as you try to lead her inside.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Wands. Just a little sore from earlier today, but I already feel better.”
Wanda just nods and she pays close attention to you as you walk inside with no obvious signs of pain. She’s happy with this for now, but she’ll continue to watch you as the night goes on. You stop at your bedroom on the way downstairs because you at least want to change clothes and brush your teeth so you don’t smell so badly of pot.
Natalya knows that you smoke because you didn’t see a reason to hide it from her. Wanda didn’t like the idea of lying to her about something that she could have to help you with at some point, so you both agreed to be open with your daughter. The brunette remembers when you were first diagnosed with your condition as well as the years after when you were going between various meds with limited success. Since starting on your most recent regimen, you’ve been doing much better, and Natalya has been able to relax a little.
She couldn’t help but be worried about her mom’s condition, and she easily picked up on when you were having good or bad days. She realized that today might be something in between because her redhead mom came downstairs alone first, but you appear only a few minutes later. Wanda is already in the kitchen heating up dinner when you head over toward your daughter to greet her.
“Hey, Little Nat, how was your day?”
Natalya’s careful as she hugs you back, and she smiles as you kiss the top of her head with a sigh. You’re so lucky to have such a wonderful and caring daughter and you are reminded of this once again as you briefly sit down next to her with a sigh.
“It was good. I caught everything in practice.”
You pat your daughter on the back with a proud smile before you glance to your wife in the kitchen. She’ll probably not need your help, but you’re against making her do everything all the time. You’re about to stand up when Natalya catches your attention with a quiet question. She looks to you with a frown as she drops her pencil and starts to put up her homework. She’s all finished, and she wanted to help make dinner since she was in a slightly better mood today.
“Feeling okay, Mom?”
When you nod and reassure Little Nat that you’re feeling good, you lead her to the kitchen to where Wanda’s putting something in the oven. She shoots both of you a wary look because you are one in the same when it comes to cooking. You can be very helpful, or you can be very hungry and try to sneak some snacks when Wanda’s back is turned. She can tell what mood you’re both in, and she heads to the fridge to grab some appetizers that she’d made just in case.
More often than not, she’ll have something for you, well mostly Natalya given you’re usually still at work, to tide her over until dinner. She can’t help but smile at your matching expressions, and she laughs before encouraging you both to eat.
“Go on. Once you’re finished you can help make the dessert.”
When both of your eyes light up in excitement, Wanda has to stop herself from teasing you two. She finds your obsession with food adorable even if it sometimes makes it difficult for her to keep your attention. You both nod, but only you respond with a mouthful of bruschetta.
“’ounds, good.”
When you and Wanda make it to bed that night, both dogs have opted to sleep downstairs so you’re completely alone. You are exhausted from your long day and the pain that you’d just gotten rid of, so you just want to go to sleep. That said, you can’t help but want to take advantage of the alone time you have with your wife. She’s sitting up in bed as she reads a book she’s been working on for a week. You smile up at her and how beautiful she looks from this angle in the lamplight. You’re already lying down because you’re near sleep, but your wife’s voice wakes you up a bit.
“I can feel you staring.”
Wanda continues to read as she says this and she waits until you roll over onto your stomach with a groan before shrugging in indifference.
“Sorry. You’re distracting me.”
Wanda frowns at this as she meets your bright, mischievous gaze with a skeptical one. She’s just been reading for the past 15 minutes because she wanted to finish this chapter before going to bed. She’s behind what she’d wanted to read for this week, but when she feels your hands sneak up her sides, she realizes she might have to catch up later.
“Really? How is that?”
Your hands have started to wander, and you sigh appreciatively at the feeling of your wife’s skin beneath your fingers. You slide closer to her so you can kiss where her shirt’s ridden up, and you respond between admiring the faint stretch marks. Your mind wanders to the time when your wife was pregnant years ago, and you can’t help but hum at the memory of how she’d looked. The sight of her round stomach and her thick thighs had practically turned you feral, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to touch.
“You’re just so pretty, my love. It’s really not fair.”
Any response Wanda has is lost as her breath hitches at the feeling of you kissing her stomach as your hands drift down to squeeze her thighs. Over the years she’d learned to accept her post-pregnancy body for what it was. At times you’d made her appreciate, even like it when you continued to love her and treat her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She’d only pouted about her new stretch marks or her fuller thighs for a couple of months before you’d convinced her that you loved her just the same, if not more because of how she looked. She tries to focus on your adoring hands and mouth as she sets her book on the bedside table and grasps for the lamp to turn it off.
“No, I want to see you.”
Wanda would argue if it weren’t for the fact that your whiny plea convinced her that you were serious. She takes a deep breath before reaching out to run a hand through your hair. Her nails tickle your scalp and you sit up with a smile before leaning in to meet her lips. You moan into the kiss as you consider how you’ll be able to please your wife while watching her every move. You bite your lip as you pull away and fiddle with the waist band of your wife’s shorts.
“Can I touch you, please?”
Wanda groans in response before she nods and spreads her legs a little so you can have better access. You don’t do what she expects, and you tug at her shirt with a smile before deciding that you want it off. You’re being a little greedy tonight, but your wife appeases you as always and slips her shirt off and tosses it aside with a knowing look. She smirks as she watches you take in the sight of her, and you groan under your breath before slipping your hand down her shorts.
“Ah, shit!”
Wanda takes a deep breath to try and keep quiet as your fingers tease her wet folds. Her hips jump as you circle her clit before you’re leaning in to kiss her breathless. Wanda’s hands go to your face to pull you close as you dip two fingers into her only to pull them out quickly. You smile against her lips when you hear her whine, but you only continue to tease her as her breath starts to quicken.
“Y/n.”
Her breathless tone takes away from her demand a bit, and you just smile before moving away to kiss your wife’s neck and chest until she’s squirming beneath you. Wanda’s face is flushed and she’s considering shoving your face between her legs when you wrap your lips around one of her nipples. She moans and arches her back as she squeezes her eyes shut and begs you to get on with it.
“Detka, please. Stop teasing.”
You only have to think about Wanda’s revenge for a second to acquiesce with an obedient nod of your head. You keep your mouth on her breasts as you finally push two fingers deep inside of your wife. You both moan in unison, and you quickly start curling them with each thrust to bring Wanda higher, faster. She starts to tremble as you insistently rub against the sensitive spot that makes her toes curl and her arousal pool into your hand. You curse in the brief moment that your mouth is unoccupied as you continue to kiss your wife’s heaving chest.
“Fuck, Wands.”
The sight of your wife laid out beneath you, back arched in pleasure as you continue to tease her is one you want to commit to memory. You’d consider recording her if you had a free hand, but you know Wanda might be too self-conscious to do this. Instead, you focus on her pinched features and her beautiful moans as you start to press your thumb against her clit.
“God, I’m—fuck!”
Wanda’s entire body twitches as she tries to close her legs when her pleasure becomes almost painful. She tenses in anticipation as you curl your fingers deeper and focus on the soft spot that makes your wife practically scream. She bites her lip and bucks her hips frantically as she starts to teeter over the edge. She gasps and starts shaking violently as you make her come so hard, she sees stars. She doesn’t realize she’s soaked your hand and the sheets, but you groan at the sight, and the sound of your wife’s strangled moan. You are glad that your daughter is a deep sleeper because you’re certain that Wanda would have woken her up otherwise.
You smile as you lean in to kiss your beautiful wife who’s still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. You pull your hand free and she shivers at the feeling but you just keep her focus on you as you moan into your wife’s mouth.
“Fuck, you’re perfect. I’m so fucking lucky.”
Wanda grasps at your arms and her hand falls to your wrist before she brings your hand toward her. You’re left a little dazed as your wife flips you over and straddles your waist. You grip at her hips with your free hand, but the other is in Wanda’s hold as she holds it against her lips. You moan and shift impatiently as Wanda sucks your fingers clean and your head swims at the sound of her moaning around them.
“I’m the lucky one, Y/n.”
Wanda is certain that she lucked out when she met you. Despite there being plenty of things in her past that she didn’t care for, she wouldn’t change any of them if there was even a small chance of losing you. All of her reckless, desperate decisions early on had led her to you one way or another, and she couldn’t be more grateful. She’s convinced that she wouldn’t have found anyone to settle down with if she hadn’t run into you that day. She still doesn’t think she deserves you, but after so many years of bringing her so much happiness, she’d be damned if she lost you.
Wanda kisses your palm before she runs her free hand under your shirt. You squirm at the feeling of her warm hand on your stomach and you’re about to ask her to take off your shirt when she starts to tug it over your head. You sigh in relief when it’s finally off, and you’re about to reach back out to your wife, but she grabs your hands and pins them above your head.
“What-?”
“It’s my turn now, detka, and I want you to keep your hands right here, okay?”
After having her way with you for over an hour, you’re barely able to move from the exhaustion you feel. It’s late you’re sure, but you can’t be bothered to glance at the clock as you hold tight to your wife. After a quick clean up, you two fell back into bed and you immediately pulled Wanda into your arms. She whined when you slid her toward the middle of the bed, but she settled quickly when you pulled her flush against your front and kissed her cheek.
The two of you fell asleep to the sound of rain hitting the window, and your last thought before losing consciousness was mud. Tomorrow’s game would be a muddy one.
Masterlist
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda x reader#growing pains#post mob life
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first off, no hate to this person or any of the people agreeing - at the end of the day, people have different thoughts/interpretations of star wars and its characters, so it's no big deal. but i just wanted to talk about this post/sentiment because i've seen it a lot in the fandom and i'm still new to SW. disclaimer that i'm actively watching TCW at the moment, so take my opinion with a grain of salt
i know most everyone is going to disagree with me on this, but to be kind of blunt, i feel like people like to be purposefully obtuse when it comes to anakin's characterization and it often seems to come from this place of trying to come off like an intellectual ('well *EYE* knew anakin was toxic/evil/a piece of shit the whole time ☝️🤓 ' type energy). i have various thoughts on this and i'm gonna start with the more nitpicky ones and then finish with what i think is the real reason we all disagree
for starters (again, this is just nitpicking) jedi do kill people and it's reasonable to think anakin has killed people prior to the tusken raiders just by nature of his position as a jedi (aggressive negotiations, etc etc). what makes it 'okay' is jedi, by nature of their beliefs, don't commit war crimes by killing the defenseless or innocents. but my point is that killing is already something he's likely done, whereas being a macho toxic fuckboy to his wife is not.
i guess your opinion on this next part of it varies depending on your thoughts when it comes to human nature/morals/whatever, but to ME at least, slaughtering a village because they enslaved and tortured his mother to death is definitely fucked up (because he also took out the innocents), but it's not the exact same thing as being abusive to his wife? like i'm not even trying to debate which one is worse either atp, i'm just saying both things are different and have different pathways of thinking to get to that point. with the tusken raiders, you can clearly see how anakin got there, even if it was wrong, fucked up and arguably evil when it came to the defenseless people he didn't know.
but putting those points aside, i think the main thing we're disagreeing on with the whole TCW characterization vs prequels characterization of anakin is the when of it all. like for ME (you're free to disagree), anakin's behavior of actively hurting padmé when he force choked her in ROTS was SUPPOSED to be 'out of character', and because of that it signaled that he was an evil sith lord that's now too far gone. that was the marker, right behind him killing the younglings. which people also do talk about when they're arguing about this topic:
the difference in thought i'm having from this person is from MY personal perspective, from a story-telling technique/standpoint alone, i just don't like the idea of putting toxicity towards padmé before that marker (what he did in ROTS). it fucks with the whole classic myth type tragedy of it? anidala is supposed to be somewhat idealized even if something like that shouldn't be irl. that's why luke 'redeems' darth vader and brings him back through a mirror of padmé's love for him. we're supposed to recognize vader is a villain, yes, but we're also supposed to take from the story that padmé's love for him was worth it in the end. and that the circumstances of that situation in ROTS (and leading up to ROTS) created the perfect storm to cause anakin to 'fall' and become a sith lord. the tragedy of it is that he WOULD have kept being a good person, without that perfect storm of circumstances (grooming from palpatine, feelings of isolation from parental figures, being heralded as this chosen one, his own arrogance/passion, trauma from how his mother died, force visions plaguing him that he KNEW would come true like with the one of shmi's death, etc).
for ME, as a story, i like that anakin's push into evil is signified by the force choke. the youngling slaughter is definitely like "well, he's gone now", yeah, but when we see him choking the person he was fighting to save? a character we've been personally watching love him the entire movie? that's when we know anakin is lost. so to try and be like 'well, he was just like this all along' undermines that tragedy of this scene that i just talked about. that's why a lot of people don't like some of TCW anakin's characterization. because it undermines that over-arching story. is the prequels-trilogy darth vader story unrealistic to real life? yes, completely. but that star wars story is not supposed to mirror real life. in real life you would not tell luke skywalker to try and save a man who genocided people, destroyed a planet and upheld a dictatorship for one of the most evil men to ever exist. but you have to suspend some of your disbelief in order to enjoy the story. it's just art. and sure, it's 'valid' if you want to accept anakin's TCW version along with some of those scenes people critique. you're free to think he was just toxic and bad all along, but i just think that's a shame and i disagree personally because i don't like what it does with the flow of the story or the work of art that's both trilogies overall. something i think encapsulates it well is this quote written by matthew stover in the ROTS novelization:
"The dark is generous and it is patient and it always wins – but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back.
Love is more than a candle.
Love can ignite the stars.”
in this situation, the candle was anakin and padmé's love for each other, persisting in their son. and the message wasn't that anakin was toxic and evil all along? it was that their love persisted and it came back in the end because it couldn't be blotted out by evil or death.
you could even delve into the force choke scene deeper? it's really the perfect example of 'a storm of bad circumstances' that make it a tragedy. because no, there's NO excuse for what anakin did and at this point he has slaughtered actual children. him hurting padmé is 'evil'. however, (and i know nuance goes to die on the internet, which is part of why i'm writing this lmfao) from anakin's perspective, padmé had just brought obi-wan to kill him. it's not a justification but it does establish the length padmé had to go to (we as the viewer know she didn’t go to that point, but anakin does not know this) in order for anakin to be 'evil' and toxic with her. he had to think that padmé was actively trying to kill him in order to force choke her. and even AFTER he was burned alive and lost his limbs to obi-wan (someone he saw as a father figure), the first thing he thought when he came to was if padmé was alright. he still loved her. and at this point he still thought she wanted him dead and hated him. it took him thinking padmé wanted him dead and hated him for him to snap enough to force choke her?
so with that in mind, yeah, people are going to view anakin's characterization in regards to her in a specific way. some people prefer that that was his breaking point into evil towards her, because of the story it's attempting to tell with the original movies. and him being this macho man towards her over things smaller than that just doesn't feel organic to what we saw in the prequels and it doesn't seem consistent with the flow of that over-romanticized story being told.
people are free to disagree or not like that over-romanticized story (in fact many people don't? and that's one of the reasons why some people don't mesh with star wars or anidala) but i'm not sure why they're surprised some people don't like that clash of characterization between prequels anakin and TCW anakin. this gets even more complicated when you factor in how people didn't like how anakin was overly romantic and 'simp'-like and even hayden had backlash for his acting and just his existence in the role. so of course when making a cartoon for kids, that younger boys would probably be watching, they would distance themselves a bit from that romance vibe and make it more 'obvious' he's just darth vader
#if you disagree with me then make your own post because you're not gonna change my mind on this#but i'm writing this just because i wanted to get my own thoughts out#and share a perspective that i recognize is not a popular one on here#i honestly don't even think there are many anidalas in general#anyway#anakin#anidala#metas#anakin skywalker#pro anakin skywalker#tagging it as this because i know people will be pissed? but like i recognize he's a villain so#star wars#anakin x padme#anakin x padmé#japortalisman#tcw critical
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So I just finished system collapse, and while I needed about 400% more of three onscreen, I am delighted about many things, not least of which is this pissing match between ART and holism
#I think this book was about getting secunit to acknowledge its trauma and also other secunits#and that the next one is going to be more about dealing with that trauma and other secunits#at least I hope so#system collapse#system collapse spoilers#murderbot diaries spoilers#now I just need to obtain an audiobook so that I can listen to it approximately 6 times#also I’m still thinking about its hair being described as fluffy(!!!)
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And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Time Flies Until It Hits The Fan
Chapter 20/? - - - Read it on AO3
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]
Word Count: 10,048
Summary: Over the next few weeks, things start adjusting. Eddie and Nancy get together to plan how he'll defeat Ms. O'Donnell's Final Essay, and end up talking about some much more important things. Many different things and people across Hawkins shift around and in the end Jonathan and Nancy's relationship comes to a head.
Something has to change.
More ST Fics
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And time started to move on. Days passed by in faster succession than it felt like they had in the days of catching the fallout. They were in a rhythm that felt more like the normal world than anything really had. Nancy kept taking the time to stop by the Family Video most days. Always to return one tape and make her new pick from the comedy display. Never really even looking at any other genre.
It was helping, so she wasn't going to mess with the formula.
And she also had plans that following Friday.
Nancy and Eddie decided to meet in the library for their free period at the end of the day. Eddie caught up with her by her locker and they walked down to the end of the building together. A couple of pairs of eyes noticed, watching them make their way around the school. They were the writer of a major news story and the subject of said story, they all couldn't help but be intrigued by what those two were up to again.
Even the librarian made a bit of a face when he saw them enter side-by-side and mark off one of the study rooms on the check-in sheet. But they didn't really mind much. The two of them just went ahead and tucked into the privacy of a door and four walls, shuttering the blinds down over the window, and took their seats around the circular table.
Eddie started unpacking stuff from his bag and Nancy did the same. He pulled out a report card and a list of assignments he put together. Nancy got herself a spiral notebook and pen, ready to make notes and get a course of action set up.
They looked over his grades together. Most of which were pretty good, with various B's, a couple C's, and even an A- with the drama teacher. Well, pretty good grades except for the bane of his existence. Ms. O'Donnell's English Lit. Which currently sat with a D. Technically, it was barely passing. But if the final didn't hold that grade there, or higher, it was going to end his year as a fail in the grade books. Again.
It was probably a sore spot, but they needed to address that hurdle head-on.
Nancy blew out some air between her lips, twiddling the pen between her fingers, and tried to say it gently,“ So, why haven’t you passed it yet?”
She wasn't being judgy. She wasn't being mean. She just needed to know what the difficulty was and what was getting in his way if they were going to draw up a battle plan together. She needed to know what was going on so they could deal with it.
Eddie leaned back in his seat. Might've been avoiding eye contact for a moment.
“Cause she keeps failing me. Thought that was pretty obvious.”
“Okay, fine, but why? If you do the assignments well enough then she’d have no choice but to pass you, even if she doesn't want to. Otherwise, you would've had grounds to report it to the principal and gotten her grades overruled.” she reasoned. “But you didn't do that. So? What is it?”
“I don’t.”
Which was a pretty nothing statement.
“Don't what?” she pushed for more clarity.
“Don't do the assignments well enough.”
Nancy's head fell to the side,“ Why?”
“Not smart enough?” He crossed his arms around himself tighter. “Next question.”
But she just frowned at the idea. It didn't add up, and she wouldn't be fooled.
“Nope. No way am I buying that.”
That got him to look at her. “Excuse me?” he blinked.
“You’re excused,” she said, a little patronizingly. He might've laughed if he wasn't confused.
“No, what do you mean by 'you’re not buying that’?”
“I’m not.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re smart.”
And she said it like it was the obvious conclusion to draw.
Eddie just raised his eyebrows and asked,“ Do I look like a mirror to you, Wheeler?”
She rolled her eyes. And for a second, Eddie thought he was going to get a chuckle out of her. But she sat there with a serious face. Focused on making her point.
“Eddie, I have heard your vocabulary. I know that you’re an avid reader who plays an instrument. You manage those DnD sessions in both the planning ahead of time and improvising as it runs. You’re headstrong and a creative problem solver. All of which are things that point to you being very smart. So I'm really struggling to believe an essay you tried on wouldn’t be good enough.”
She leveled him pretty quickly, all things considered. Eddie almost felt like he'd just been made a subject of Nancy Wheeler's journalistic investigation for a second time.
“And I just saw your other grades, not a minefield of F's like you made it out to be. So, what is it? Do you just not try on your finals for her out of spite or something?”
“No.”
“Because I'd get that. Might say it's a little self-sabotage-y and immature. But I'd get it. And that's something we can decide to not let you do this time around-”
“I tried,” he answered honestly.
“Then what happened? I’d get that maybe the first time through, it might’ve been really hard, but if you tried on the last essay knowing what to expect then I don’t understand how you couldn’t-”
“I didn’t turn it in,” he said abruptly.
And that was certainly an answer.
Nancy got quieter when she asked,“ What?”
“I tried really hard on the last one. I spent weeks on her final essay. And then I… I didn’t turn it in.”
“Why not?”
There was this hesitation. Eddie looked at his hands. At the black painted fingernails Robin and El left him with. At the chipped-off flecks that had occurred during the usual wear and tear of his day not being gentle with his hands. Little pale pink spots of his skin showed through. He brought his thumb to the edge of the lacquer on a forefinger and started to pick at it.
“My first senior year wasn’t a good one.” he eventually said, keeping his eyes stuck on the task he'd set,” I didn't focus and blew a lot of it off. There was more than one class I needed to improve my grade in to graduate. But the last assignment I did that year was Mrs. O’Donnell’s essay. I wrote a paper and it wasn’t good, I'll admit that. I pushed it off because I got mad every time I tried to do it, so it became a rush job at the last minute. Whatever.”
Eddie shook his head. His hair moved around his head as he did. Catching on his shoulders and crowding in further around his face. Closing him in. And Nancy watched him carefully. Her eyes studied the guy sitting next to her. She could tell there was more to say. So she waited for him.
He took a deep breath. Puffed out his lungs like he was winding up to bite the bullet.
“But after I turned it in, before the bell rang for me to go to my next class, I got called to the principal’s office. Um-” he bit his lip,” They called to tell me that… that my dad died.”
Nancy immediately felt terrible. Her stomach dropped and her mouth fell open,” Eddie, I-”
There was a hurt sort of laugh that came from him. Just a defeated huff in the face of what he was saying. What he was remembering.
“It wasn’t so seriously sad like how I think losing your dad is supposed to hit you.” he clarified,” I mean, he was practically a stranger to me, so it mostly just made me feel numb-” he swallowed hard,” And weird. They let me take the rest of the day off to go home. I did. Took a couple of them off. And I don’t know- I just- Later, when I came back to class, I had failed the essay. So I just didn’t turn anything else in after that. In any of my classes. I guess I kind of just gave up on all of it.”
“That’s when I started buying off Reefer Rick more. And that summer, after the rest of my class graduated without me, was when I started dealing for him. I decided it was my best bet to have any cash and something to do. And that fall, I wanted to graduate. I really wanted out. I tried harder during the school year. Did fine enough in all the other classes. But always with Ms. O’Donnell… Every time I sat in her classroom, I’d remember ‘Here’s where I was the last time I thought my dad was alive.’ I didn’t focus well. Always got high at lunch right before I went in. And still, I told myself I was going to write a killer essay and pass enough to get out of there. I worked so hard on it. And when I tried to hand it in… I just froze.”
Eddie's fingers stopped moving. He wasn't casting little specks of nail polish onto the carpet anymore. He was just clenching his hands together, tightly. Looking at nothing and seeing everything that Nancy didn't.
His voice sounded so vacant as he remembered,“ And I thought ‘What if it’s not good enough again? What if I turn in another bad essay and something worse happens this year? What if I lose Wayne?’ And…”
Eddie's voice hitched. He looked up into Nancy's eyes after the sentence broke in his throat. For the first time since he got started, she could see what was happening in those deep browns. He wasn't full-on crying, but there were tears sitting on the edge. Just enough to communicate a kind of pain and fear that was all too real.
“And I know that’s stupid,” he explained. ”Some essay doesn’t decide whether or not people live or die, I know that. But, then she got to my desk. To the kid who failed last year, to the kid who never paid attention to her lessons, who came in faded the whole semester, who everyone assumed was going to turn out just like his dad, in and out of prison until he died, locked up and alone- And she asked if I did the assignment. And I had started pulling it out before she got there because I thought I was going to be fine, but when she said that I shoved the paper back in my bag. Said ‘No. I didn’t.’ and I walked right out in the middle of class. Didn't even get in my van, I just kept walking till I was off school grounds. ”
“Eddie…” she wasn't sure what else to say.
Maybe, if she didn’t know any better, she’d have started mindlessly blabbing a dozen I’m-so-sorrys. Maybe she'd have cried a bucket of sympathy tears because his tragedy was so hard for her to hear. Maybe Nancy would've wrapped him in a hug and told him it was going to be alright.
A promise she was in no position to make.
But Nancy knew better. Maybe not exactly how it felt to lose a semi-estranged father. But she knew how it felt to be living your life and suddenly the whole ground has fallen out from under your feet because someone you loved died, scared and alone, while you didn’t know any better. She knew that part. She knew how it took her over in the strangest ways she never anticipated.
And so, she didn’t know what to say. Because, to that day, Nancy still didn’t know what she wanted to hear after Barb died. She could never figure out that part. What words could have possibly made it hurt even a little bit less? She still had no idea what they might've been.
Eddie just tried to blink away his misty eyes,“ Anyway. That’s the big story. That’s why I’m still here.”
He pulled on a smile. A pretty insincere looking one. The kind a person wears to make sure no one talks about it. To change the subject and move on.
Nancy recognized it pretty well.
“Do you still have the other essay?” she asked him instead.
Giving him what he asked for without words. Hoping he could see that she was more than happy to follow him if he wanted to talk about it. But it didn't feel like he wanted to unpack anymore in one of the library study rooms.
“Heh, no. I dropped it in a burn pile at the trailer park on my way home.” he admitted, until it looked like an idea came to him,“ But, I do still have the notebook I worked on it in… and the rough draft… probably.”
“Okay. Then it’s a deal. Next time we meet, you are going to bring me that notebook and we’re going to remake the amazing essay you should’ve turned in last year, and we’ll work through the other few assignments she might dole out between now and then. And then you’re going to graduate. With the rest of us, Class of '86-ers.” Nancy said with pride.
Eddie commented,“ You’ve got a lot of faith for a paper you didn’t even read the last attempt on.”
“What can I say?” she shrugged,” I believe in you, Eddie Munson.”
“Nancy Wheeler…” he looked at her like she was a divine blessing,” You’re an enigma, you know that?” Eddie wiped at his eyes some, trying to get them back to normal,” I can’t believe I just spilled all of that to you. I do not talk to people about my dad. Like, ever. Blegh. That was weird.”
Nancy just smiled. She reached out with her elbow and bumped his. “It’s what comes when you face hell together with someone. You end up sharing some of the other fucked up stuff about your lives too.”
Eddie smiled back at her. More real that time. And then the school bell rang over the intercom system. Students were officially let out. The two of them started packing up their things. Slipping the straps of their bags over their shoulders. Nancy was just reaching to pull out her car keys when an idea came to her.
“Are you doing anything later?”
Eddie thought for a moment,“ Corroded Coffin's got a band rehearsal tomorrow, but, no, nothing today. Why?”
“Then, how would you like a little trip to the Wheeler's? Don't have to stay for dinner - I wouldn't recommend for anyone who doesn't have to, sit there and deal with Ted Wheeler's table manners - but there's absolutely snacks in it for you before then.”
And Eddie’s eyes shone with another smile. “Sounds like another great deal. I think I'll take you up on that, Nan.”
“Ew, what am I, your grandmother?”
“I’m just trying something new! Now that we’ve leveled up our friendship with some tears at the library.”
It didn't take long for them to make it out of the school and get on the road, most of the students waited around on Fridays making plans before they took off. So Nancy got into the station wagon and, once he was behind her, Eddie followed her on the way over. Leading him right up to the Wheeler's front door. Eddie was let into the home with a warm welcome from Nancy's mother. Karen hung her head from the kitchen when they came in. An expression of surprise painted over her face when she realized it wasn't Mike trailing behind his older sister into the living room.
“Oh. Hello, Eddie.”
“Hello, Mrs. Wheeler.”
She wasn't too worried. Ever since Will and El got back to town, Mike and the others have been riding his bike to and from school most days again versus stowing away in Nancy's passenger seat. Plus, it was nice seeing Nancy bring someone by the house after school again. That hasn't really happened since…
Nancy quickly made for the pantry,“ We're just gonna grab some snacks and head upstairs.”
“Okay.” Karen nodded softly. Mentally hoping not to spook Nancy or her guest off. Seeing as it was something she's just got the nerve to have again. “I take it all the boys and El are back helping at the Cabin again?”
“Probably. They were all by the bike racks when we got out. Waved when I pulled away and everything.”
“Alright. Just keep an ear out if Mike needs to get picked up later.”
“Got it.” Nancy already had some treats stacked up in her arms when she turned around to ask,” Are there any brownies left?”
Karen motioned to the nearly empty container on the oven top,“ Just the corner pieces.”
“Score. I will take that one.” Eddie delightedly remarked.
“Oh? Finally, we've found someone that won't turn their nose up at the extra chewy edges.”
“Absolutely not.” he assured her,” The corners have always been my favorites.”
“Alright then. You've just earned yourself a standing invitation whenever I need help clearing leftovers. What else do you eat?” Karen started.
But Nancy dropped the items from her hands into Eddie's and then got him turned around. Started pushing him back towards the stairs. She excused them over her shoulder as they made their way up,“ We just came from the library essay planning, can't lose this momentum, Mom.”
“Okay, okay. You're free to go. Just keep it down, I'm expecting a phone call from Mrs. Peterson in a bit.”
“Got it.”
The two newfound pals shuffled up the staircase and into the second-floor hall. Nancy ushered Eddie to her door like they had anything to really be running from. He was laughing a little at her dramatics when they got inside. Spilling the sweets and salty morsels onto her bed, watching the soda cans bounce off the softness of it and crinkle against the plastic bags.
Eddie was the last one to see it, now that it was finally his turn to look upon the room. Well, the 1986, right-side-up version. He saw the 1983 upside-down one already. But that had, of course, been outdated and covered in dust and decay.
The one in the real world was remarkably nicer to look at. There were still frilly curtains and pink all over, but she also had a Tom Cruise poster and Blondie cassettes, and a shoebox with two handguns in the closet he was privy to.
Night and day, in some of the strangest ways.
It wasn't only Eddie's first time in Nancy Wheeler's real bedroom, it was actually his first time in any girl's bedroom.
Getting into one had never been a focus of his before. And it wasn't even then, not in the way most boys meant it. But Eddie wasn't most boys. Just like Nancy wasn't most girls.
They'd talked for a little while. On and on about nothing really. Nothing really important or deeply cutting. Just the smaller, surface-level things. Eddie's favorite color was red, and despite present appearances, Nancy's was blue. But more like a powder blue than a cobalt, she specified. Eddie said he liked his reds more ruby than orange-ish.
He asked how much she really liked Top Gun to have sprung for the poster for it. She laughed so hard she snorted. Her hand flew to her face to cover her nose and he just pushed and pushed. She threatened to break into what was left of his room so she could make fun of whatever posters he had on his wall. He might've begged her not to, while also insisting he had nothing that was possible to make fun of. Because all his stuff was cool. Even if people didn't get it, they just weren't cool enough for it.
That would've been his defense if she took him up on the challenge anyway.
He'd looked at this little, plush thing she had hanging on the wall. Like a girly kind of corkboard to pin and hang stuff off of. With fabric and ribbons on it to make it pretty. And it held up pictures and handwritten notes. Sentimental stuff.
She'd followed his eyes. Seen it. Knew what sort of stuff used to be presented on it. Until she took them down and tucked them safely into her bedside drawer because it got too hard to look at all the time.
The energy shifted in the room when Nancy abruptly said,” Barb was my best friend, you know.”
Truth be told, Eddie didn't really know. He barely knew Nancy until his life went to hell. He noticed years before that a boy went missing, and then a girl went missing, and the boy came back, and the girl didn't. He knew that about a year later all that news about government experiments and cover-up came from their very backyard. He'd heard that the missing girl became a dead girl because of it. But he didn't really know much beyond that.
Wasn't wrapped up in much of Barbara Holland's business before.
Didn't know who her best friend was, or that he'd come to know her pretty well himself.
“Yeah?” he offered anyway. He didn't know, but she could tell him about it.
“Yeah. She died back when everything started.” She swallowed hard. Curled her fingers into a fist. “I didn't find out anything was wrong until the next day. And even then, nobody wanted to listen to me. It drove me crazy.”
It sounded heartbreaking. “I can only imagine,” he told her.
“But even after, months after, I went sort of off the rails in my own way sometimes too.” And he started to see where she was going with it. “I thought I saw her sometimes. Like out of the corner of my eyes, around the halls at school. If I looked at the back of Ellen Brady's head too long. They sort of had the same hair. Went to a party and tried a little too hard to pretend I was okay.”
She sort of knew what it was like. Losing someone all of a sudden. Having trouble getting back to “life as usual.” And she was telling him that she got it a little.
“Yeah. Happens to the best of us, I guess. Can't see it coming, and then it does and…”
He didn't really finish the thought. Wasn't even quite sure where it was going. But Nancy picked back up. Seeming to know more of what she wanted to say than he did.
“Only happens sometimes to me, though. Never long enough to get stuck.” She sympathized,“ I never really found myself lucky for handling it as well as it did to stay on track with school, at least. I was always so focused on the hurting part.”
“Well, that's probably because it hurts. A lot. And often.” Eddie's eyes darkened as he looked away,“ And it's lonely.”
Nancy held her attention on him. On his bouncing knee. Like Mike did when he was thinking too much.
She agreed,“ It is. Because no one else really got it. No one cared about Barb like I did. And Will came back for Mike. No one around me ever lost a friend like that. So I was just… alone. Feeling it.”
“I was serious when I said I never talk about my dad with people. I'm not sure if most of my friends even knew he was ever in prison. And I didn't say anything after he died. I was just… fucked up all of a sudden. And that was that.”
He looked back at her. It wasn't the same in that way for Nancy and she knew it.
“Everyone knew something was up with Barb. And the people in the know knew what actually happened. I felt like I was always surrounded by it, and under an NDA so I wasn't supposed to talk about it, but I needed to. Or wanted to. Or just wanted to not need to.”
Eddie just watched her. He could see there was something else brewing under her skin. Something she was getting to that must torture her all the time. Even still.
“And that felt impossible,” she admitted,” But the worst part was probably that we had been so close, and then… we started to get some distance. There were disagreements and tension and not-quite-fights. Walking away. I told her to leave. And then she was actually gone.”
Ah. The regret. The kind that was way worse than not appreciating enough. It felt like not appreciating at all. Even though they did. They did appreciate their people in some ways. But life happens. Things change and feelings get coiled up into infuriating knots. And then people die. At seemingly the worst time. Right before a reconciliation could've happened. Should've happened.
It sparked a memory in him.
“The last time my dad went in… I asked him if he was even trying to stay out. Asked if he preferred having an excuse and being locked up versus being out in the world and having to actually get to know me. Asked him why he and Wayne didn't just lie about which brother was my father since it would've been simpler the other way around.”
He looked back on that day often. Hated how it all shook out. Wished he was someone who could've swallowed that anger instead of spitting it out.
“And I felt like shit a while after I said it. But I didn't want to apologize because I definitely still felt some of it. So I didn't call as much as I used to. And then it wasn't an option anymore.” Eddie sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth,“ It sucks so much more to have been putting that distance in right before…”
“Yeah,” she agreed. For the first time having someone get it. Get that part that always made her feel crazy. Like a cruel, selfish bitch. “It feels like… 'Why couldn't I have at least been nice? Even if I couldn't have stopped it, couldn't I have at least been better to them? If I knew what was going to happen, I would've. I'm not a bad person who wanted to hurt them in the time they had left. I swear, I'm not.' But that's how it happened anyway.”
Eddie shook his head. “But it wasn't your fault. Teens say stupid shit and get in stupid fights. She had to know things were supposed to get better between you two. If there was just a little more time after the dust settled.”
“Same goes for you, you know. Parents know that kids get frustrated and blow up sometimes. He knew that you didn't… hate him, or anything like that. Had to know you wanted to apologize.”
“Yeah. Wayne said that kind of thing to me lots. Never really bought it though.”
“Did you guys have good memories?” Nancy cocked her head to the side. A little crease appeared between her brows after she asked. Listening. Intently.
“Most of them were messy, one way or another. This one time he 'borrowed' a neighbor's kiddie pool and didn't tell me no when I said we should put food coloring in the water. They never found out who stained it purple.” Eddie chuckled to himself, picturing it happen all over again. “And he knew the reason I wanted to start learning guitar was because of a picture I saw of him playing one by a bonfire. He bought my first one while he was out for a bit. Showed me some of the chords before he slipped up again.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It was.”
“Is.” she corrected him,” The memories aren't going anywhere.”
Eddie let the idea soak in a second before he decided,“ No. Guess they aren't.”
They kept talking after that. But, eventually, they had to get Eddie out of there before Ted got home and made a big fuss about everything. Complaining about missing corner pieces even though he was never going to eat them, it usually came down to Mike. Throw a fit at the dinner table about “unsavory company" to have under his roof. Stuff like that.
Nancy offered to let him crawl out the window and scale the gutter to get out. He just joked that he'd leave that business to her boyfriends of past and present. Went down the stairs, stopped to say goodbye to her mom and put the container in the sink, and went out the door. Got into his van and headed for the video store. There was probably someone he ought to annoy hanging around there. Even though it was later than usual.
Eddie and Nancy continued to meet up once or twice every week to tackle schoolwork and the big essay. And sometimes just to talk shit about anything and everything. They ended up getting along better than anyone had really planned for. Karen also appreciated having another set of hands around to entertain Holly sometimes before Ted got home.
Will and El enjoyed being able to go to school with their friends again. It was a lot less isolating than being in Lenora was. There was still a lot of history hanging over the both of them, which was the whole reason Joyce took them away in the first place. To get their fresh starts somewhere new. But they preferred to deal with having a history than sometimes feeling like they had no one.
The kids still visited Max's hospital room often and helped with the Hopper-Byers cabin in their free time. Everyone had their own tapes just in case of an emergency. Lucas and El even teamed up to put together Max's with the stuff she had in her bedroom. Radio sets were bought and set up at both Steve's house and the Cabin.
El was able to look for Dr. Sam. She saw him, and he wasn't dead. But she couldn't tell exactly what was going on. Most of the time she checked, he was just sitting silently in a chair. Leaned forward on a metal table. Looking at his wringing hands with a stern expression. No one around.
No talking she could listen in on.
No one really knew what to do with that. So they just tried to keep on, keeping on. Moving through the motions of what “normal” was supposed to look like. It was weird trying to pretend like everything was alright when Max was still in a coma. When they were still waiting for the end of the world to come back up.
They still hadn't found Vecna/Henry/One. Every time Will so much as felt a chill, they had El sit down and try. Blindfolds, television static, the works. But it wasn't leading anywhere.
And despite all that uncertainty and weirdness, the time passed. Progress was made.
Before they knew it, two more weeks had come and gone. And the Hopper-Byers Cabin was officially move-in ready. Including the additional rooms they built off the sides to accommodate the increase in residents since the last time it was lived in. Dmitri and Mikhail even had some space, and Murray was getting thrown to the couch until their passports, IDs, and home loan signed to the United States government came through and they'd take up one of the abandoned houses in the suburbs.
As the end of April closed in, it was finally time. Everyone came together to spend the weekend getting all nine of them moved out of Steve's. A fact many of them were pretty happy about. Except for maybe Hop, when he mourned the idea that he might never get to soak in a jacuzzi tub ever again. He'd kind of liked the little bit of luxury.
And Family Video finally had three workers besides Steve and Robin. So they were able to work out a much more manageable schedule between them all. Even left Robin time to go on covert dates with Vickie pretty often. Steve took to a different use of his off hours.
Sitting in Max's hospital room.
With his house emptied out, it felt like a better way to be alone. By not actually having to be alone. Especially as the kids started getting bogged down with homework and keeping an eye out for supernatural enemies. It was good to have someone with her for part of the school day and as much after as he could.
The first night he was set to go back home alone - the Monday after all the moving - he'd been sitting at her bedside for a few hours when the nurse came to send him on his way. And going back home became a daunting thing it hadn't quite been for so many weeks. He used to always be headed somewhere to sit in silence… but that routine had been interrupted. Suddenly, he had to think about a house full of turned-off lights, no dinner warm and waiting for him, and no one to greet him when he pushed open the door.
The nurse repeated to him,” Sweetheart, we gotta get you on your way. It's like bar rules at closing time: Don't care if you're going home, but you can't stay here.” She had a kind laugh as she said it, probably made that joke more than a couple of times in her day.
But Steve just didn't have the heart to immediately get up. She tried again,” We might've been able to loosen on our hours now that things aren't so emergent, but all non-family has to be out of patient rooms by six o'clock now. And you’ve been dropping by here enough to know that.”
“I know. I just-”
He couldn't think of anything to say. To excuse why he just couldn't seem to get to his feet. And then Nurse Brown's eyes softened where they'd fixed on him. She let out a little sigh and decided to let him in on an idea.
“Tell you what, if Susan approves special permission to have you listed with family visitation privileges, I’ll file the paperwork and you can start staying later. But it won’t be tonight, so you best head on home and get you something to eat.”
“Okay. Okay, thanks.”
“Course, sweetheart.”
The next day he saw her and asked. And Susan agreed. Like it was the simplest thing to say yes to. Like there wasn’t even a doubt in her mind.
And despite one very expensive utility bill hitting the Harrington bank account, there wasn't so much as a phone call made about the fact. Either his dad didn't really read it, or he'd been away from home so long he couldn't remember what a normal amount was. Whichever way it was, Steve wasn't going to complain.
Things had… come together. Or cleaned themselves up. Mostly.
Settled into place in a temporary sort of way. Like maybe it'd all still mostly be like that after Vecna was actually dealt with. But in the meantime, they were all still in prepping mode. Not wanting to go soft and get caught with their pants down.
A little while after people got cleared out of Steve's house, the government came through for the Antonovs. Dmitri and Mikhail were given birth certificates, social security numbers, IDs, and a place to live. It wasn't right next to the Wheelers like Dmitri had joked about with Karen, but it was in that neighborhood, believe it or not. There was another round of moving efforts to get the two of them and Murray into their new sleeping quarters.
And once it seemed like all the people had gotten re-shuffled to where they were supposed to be… Joyce thought it'd be nice to have a little dinner among themselves at their cabin Monday evening. Something as a little celebration for making it through the rumble. But the invitation was also extended to Nancy.
She and Jonathan hadn't been meshing together like they used to. She's been busy, spending time with Eddie, and just seeming… different. Not wrong, just different. Jonathan's been readjusting back to going to school at Hawkins and sticking pretty close to Argyle, seeing as he was the new guy in town.
And honestly, Jonathan was starting to convince himself that he maybe didn't need to listen to Argyle. Maybe he didn't need to break up with Nancy. Maybe there was a way out of it. If they could just find a way to be boyfriend and girlfriend comfortably again, maybe he could explain that the idea of being too far away from his family made him sick. And they could figure something out, while he figured out how to be in love and be good enough again.
It wasn't quite like they were avoiding each other. They saw each other sometimes, laughed and made small talk during lunch, and studied quietly at the same table in the library. They interacted, but it felt like there was stuff going unsaid. Something being ignored and brushed over. Something that, even though they both wanted it dealt with, neither wanted to face and bring up.
They had reasons for being a little distant. “It's just been so hectic with all the finals coming up.” “We're all so stressed about how or when things are going to get worse.” “I'm just too tired to do more right now.”
Things had been sort of awkward and stilted. And as much as it seemed easier to just let it be, Nancy was at the end of her rope. She didn't like not having answers. She didn't like being in the position of trying to maintain something by walking on eggshells.
If it was ending, it just needed to end.
So, she was driving the two of them out to the cabin for dinner, and when she put the station wagon into park next to the other cars, she started trying to break up with him. To excuse herself before they went in for dinner with his family and it just became a more complicated mess.
She shut off the engine and rested her hand on the keys, but didn't pull them from the ignition.
“I don’t think this is working, Jonathan.”
She was speaking gently. Kindly and honestly. Just stating an unfortunate fact of the matter.
Jonathan sat back into the seat from where he'd started getting up. It was a little out of nowhere. Just a second before they were talking about Murray's electrical work on the cabin and hoping he knew what he was doing enough that it wouldn't accidentally trigger a forest fire one day. But what Nancy said surely wasn't related.
“What?” he asked her.
“I… I just feel like we keep going in opposite directions. And it’s not just been since California. Even at the Hawkins’ Post, we were butting against one another and just… now it seems like we can’t even talk to each other.”
Jonathan blinked at her and tried,“ We can talk to each other.”
“Can we? Because I don't feel like we have. You've been back in town for over a month now and I still feel like there's something wrong. Some rift between us. And I don't know why we're holding back, I don't know if it's just because we got so used to only talking over the phone or if it's because we're both trying not to be scared of what Vecna means for El and Will when he comes back or… if it's something else entirely?” Nancy leaned forward with a heavy breath falling from her lips,“ But I feel like there's gotta be something. Because we don't feel like we used to.”
Jonathan didn't know what to say first. That it was all his fault, that he's been hoping some switch would flip and he'd be okay again, that he's been lying and procrastinating with only Argyle's counsel telling him that he needed to be honest… That he wished he'd never let any of it go on so long because it kept making it harder to admit.
“I’m sorry.”
And Nancy's brows furrowed to hear that. “No, I don’t want your apologies. I just want to know if I’m crazy for feeling like this or if you understand where I’m coming from. If you even see it?”
His voice almost caught in his throat. Quiet and small he tried to agree,“ I see it, Nance. I-”
“Kids!” Joyce yelled from the open front door, warm light from the cabin spilling out around her into the dim evening forest surrounding them,” Supper’s ready and on the table already! Come on in before it gets cold!”
“We're all waiting!” Will's voice carried from behind her. She shot another pointed look for them to hurry up before she went back inside and closed the door.
Nancy shook her head,“ I don’t think I should-”
“Can we just make it through the dinner? And we can talk after?” Jonathan asked.
And maybe if he left it there, Nancy would've said no. She shouldn't go to dinner with his family while they're in the middle of a serious talk. Especially not one she was expecting to end in a breakup.
But then he said “Please.”
So, she argued with herself. Thought that she might as well let them have one more nice evening. One more memory for the road. And she was expected. She didn't need to embarrass him by canceling from the driveway.
Nancy decided,“ Okay. We can make it through dinner. And we'll talk after.”
She leaned over the console and pressed a kiss into Jonathan's cheek. She pulled on a thin smile and took the keys out of the ignition. He returned the small smile. Gave a curt nod.
They were in agreement.
Just make it through dinner, and they were going to figure it out after. Whichever way it would go.
The two of them went inside, greeted Hop and Joyce, El, Will, and Argyle, and joined the five of them at the table. It was a steak dinner with a wide array of homey sides, mashed potatoes, brown gravy, steamed carrots, green beans, etc. All the sort of stuff that made sense for a small dinner with something to be thankful for. It was pleasant.
They all small-talked in circles as they ate. Eventually, the topic of California came up. They were all checking with Argyle for the hundredth time that he and his parents were okay with him staying in Hawkins as long as he had. Promising over and over again that it was okay for him to go back home without seeing this whole mess through to the end with them.
He never wavered though. So Joyce smiled and gave a breathy laugh, muttering about all the apologies she'd have to make when they stopped back in Lenora at some point. Probably after they thought things are really over. And then she said something about loading up another moving van to bring all their stuff back to Hawkins. Which struck Jonathan for the first time.
They must've not talked about it, or at least not clearly enough, because he didn't realize they were moving back to Hawkins permanently. His mother just sort of snickered and agreed, yes, that's why they renovated Hop's whole cabin to fit them comfortably. But even though that made sense, the whole thing didn't.
It didn't make sense for Jon and his plans.
All of a sudden, it slipped out.
“We can't move back here, I applied to Lenora Community College so I could stay with you guys at home!”
And then the whole dinner pulled to a screeching stop.
Forks froze in people's hands, bites of food when un-chewed as that truth settled in, eyes widened and stuck on him in shock.
“What?” came from four different directions around him.
Joyce. Will. El. And, most urgently, Nancy.
Jonathan's throat immediately went dry as he realized the shit storm he just kicked up.
“What the hell?” Nancy questioned him again. Though, quickly becoming more angry than confused.
“I…”
“Jonathan, what's going on?” his mom asked seriously while she tried to understand.
Argyle looked at him with an expression that said something nicer than “I told you” and “This is going to be bad.” But Nancy's eyes were set in her hurt. In the betrayal. In the fury and rage and shock. She wiped her mouth off with her napkin before smacking it down onto the table and storming out the door. Not another word.
“Nancy,” Jonathan called after her. Getting up from his chair and following just a few seconds behind while she nearly ran to the car.
It was all such fucking bullshit.
“Leave me alone.”
“Stop. Nancy!”
She grit her teeth together with her hand on the car door handle,“ I'm serious, Jonathan. Go away.”
He didn't want it to happen like that at all. He wanted to fix it. Or soften the blow. Or just explain. He wanted to explain what happened. To tell Nancy he wasn't trying to hurt her, that he'd never try to do that.
He slowed down a few feet away and reached out for her,“ Can I please just-”
With a sharp snap, she turned to face him. Her eyes set on him hard. His hand retracted from the harsh reaction.
She only had one question for him,“ Did you even apply to Emerson?”
That one question was all she needed to decide how mad she was going to be. And when he stuttered under the pressure, not a word to defend himself from the truth, she knew. She knew she was going to be as mad as she could possibly get.
“So how many months were you - not even by omission, just straight up lying to me - telling me you were still waiting for your acceptance letter? How many times did I try to make you feel better just because I got in early admission and you 'hadn't heard back yet'? When did you decide to just drag me along even though you decided you were done being invested?”
Jonathan just looked down and uttered,“ I'm sorry.”
Nancy's lip curled in something just less than a snarl.
“I already said I don't want your apologies. I just wanted to know if I was crazy. Turns out I wasn't and you just decided you were done with me but didn't have the decency to let me know-”
He stepped forward,“ I wanted to say something, but I didn't know how to!” he was desperate to correct her assumption,” I mean, you saw it, my mom didn't even know that I… I was trying to figure it out, how to tell you without hurting you, and- and Argyle tried to tell me I just needed to do it and stop-”
“Argyle?” she scoffed,” So you two were just laughing with yourselves over how fucking clueless I had to be to just believe you this whole time, huh?”
“No! No, absolutely not-”
She cut him off,“ I don't care. And if it wasn't clear, we're done. Just leave me alone.”
With a quick yank on the car door, she climbed into the driver's seat and was backing out before Jonathan could even figure out what he would've said next if she waited.
And part of him was pissed at her for not hearing him out, like the last two and a half years of dating, and the year of friendship before that, meant nothing because of this one time he fucked up. Another part of him was pissed at Argyle for having practically warned him it would happen like this because he kept waiting. Another part was just pissed at himself for being the fault of all of it.
“Jonathan?” Joyce asked from the porch, they'd heard pretty much all of the yelling from inside,“ Can we talk about what just happened?”
But another part of him was pissed at his mom for making it all come up when she told him they were staying at Hawkins during that special dinner.
“We were going to talk after…” he whispered to himself.
Because maybe if they had gotten to have the conversation they planned on after eating, maybe it would've gone better. Maybe Nancy would've listened and maybe they would've understood each other and maybe no one would've eavesdropped on him getting dumped after being exposed as a callous liar.
“What was that?” she asked, not nearly close enough to have heard him.
“I said, no thank you.”
And Jonathan stomped off into the woods. To kick rocks, snap twigs, and be pissed at all the people he wanted to be pissed at. Alone.
Nancy was driving, but she didn't really know where she wanted to go. Tears streamed down her cheeks that she had to wipe off onto her sleeves while she went. She was at least proud that she held them in until she left. She didn't want to cry in front of Jonathan after what he did.
How could he do that to her?
All those conversations, all those plans, all those promises. Worthless. He was just walking away. And there was this speck of Nancy's brain that said “hurting a good person just like his dad did.” She was thankful it wasn't something she'd thought of to say to his face. Because she felt bad about that one as soon as she thought it.
But she was hurt. And angry. And she didn't want to go home and be hurt and angry alone. To walk past her family having a perfectly normal and boring dinner and hear her mom call after her “I thought you were going over to the Byers’ for supper?” To run up the stairs just to avoid having the answer. To sniffle into her pillow until the headache set in.
She didn't want that. She wanted to fix it because Nancy liked fixing things. But she didn't know how to fix her and Jonathan. Not like how they were after what he did.
And while she tightened her hands on the steering wheel, and wrestled with thoughts about wanting to fix something, all she came up with was something Robin said to her.
Right after it all happened, when they were waiting in the hospital together. Nancy had held Robin's hands when she was getting nervous about Steve, and then Robin held hers while she worried about Mike. And then Robin smiled and started joking trying to get her to laugh; suggesting she got back together with Steve Harrington.
Robin said,“ You might’ve not been right for one another back then, but I don’t think any two people have changed as much as you guys have.”
And, hey, maybe she had a point.
She and Jonathan just went up in flames, she didn't want to be alone, and she and Steve have changed. Maybe that was the thing she could fix. Maybe that was the next step. And even if it didn't last forever, it could last for a little bit. Just so she wasn't alone.
So Nancy got turned around at the next light, and she headed towards Loch Nora. Rolling down her window and speeding more than she should on the way. Trying to dry her face and get there before she started crying again.
When Steve heard his doorbell ring, he almost didn't answer it.
Now that he was living alone again, anybody stopping by without calling first probably had to be a Jehovah's Witness or salesman. He really didn't want to chat with either. But it was almost nine o'clock at night. That was a strange time of day for the previously mentioned sort of visitors.
So he pulled himself up from the couch and went to the front door. Making the effort of a little jog when the doorbell rang again on his way over.
“I'm comin', I'm comin',” he commented under his breath. But opening the door to see Nancy Wheeler on his doorstep was a surprise.
What was even more of a surprise was the messy hair, the bright red, glassy eyes, puffy lids, and tear-stained cheeks. He almost winced at the look of her, because Nancy doesn't look like that. Ever. But she just smiled under the clear distress and took a step forward before Steve had really even welcomed her in.
“Hi, Steve,” she said casually like she didn't know the state she was in.
“Hi, Nancy. What're- What's got you stopping by my side of town?” he asked, pulling the door back and giving her room to come the rest of the way in.
“Just… Thinking about things.” she hummed as she passed him,” About me. About you. About a combination of the two.”
“Thinking about… us?”
“Yeah. About us. And the way we used to be 'us'. Before me and Jonathan, obviously.” Nancy kept striding into the living room. Her fingers swept over the top of the hall table as she went. Hearing Steve close the door behind her instead of seeing it.
“Okay, um,” he thought and started to follow her into the house,” And- and what sort of things were you thinking about? About us?”
Nancy stopped. Waited a moment before she turned around to face him, a slight falter in her balance as she did, per all the exhaustion that was still collecting in her. But, she regained her stance. And she looked into his eyes and wondered,“ We used to have fun, didn't we?”
“Yeah… we did.” Steve studied her before he worried,” Nance, is something going on? Do you need a ride home or to crash here for the night?”
Her expression dropped. “I'm not drunk,” she told him. Almost disappointed that was the conclusion he came to out of what she was saying.
“You're just a little wobbly and-”
“I'm tired,” she brushed off and turned back around to finish making her way to his living room.
“And you're talking about us from almost three years ago-”
She abruptly told him,“ Jonathan and I broke up.”
And those words cut through the air, sharp and sudden.
“Oh.”
Steve wasn't really sure how to react. He liked them together after everything, he thought. If they were happy, it was one nice thing that came out of the Upside Down ruining a lot of people's lives. If they were happy, it was one nice thing that came out of him and Nancy breaking up.
But they weren't happy, and then they weren't together, and now Nancy was in his house talking about them and what they used to have together.
A question that kept coming at him from all directions. Something he used to think about all the time and want. And now that he's been saying for weeks that he doesn't anymore… was that really true? Did he care?
Nancy kept going, taking a seat on Steve's white couch and sinking into it, fussing with the pillow next to her,“ I broke up with him because he's been lying to me and leading me on and so, now we're nothing.”
But even if Steve Harrington did want to be with Nancy Wheeler again, that wasn't the time. She was obviously hurting and a good friend would be offering support, not thinking about what they can get out of the opportunity presented to them.
So Steve stepped up. Sat down next to her, leaving about a foot of space between their seats, and spoke earnestly to Nancy.
“I'm sorry to hear that, Nance. Did you want to talk? Or is there anything I can do-”
“I seem to remember we had a lot of fun kissing. Right, Steve?”
Steve was a bit at a loss because that wasn't really what he was getting at. And maybe that was what Nancy was getting at, but maybe not. It would be rude to assume because maybe she just really wanted to reminisce. So Steve just agreed. “Yeah. Yeah, we did that a lot. I guess. Teenagers, it's what we do.”
But then Nancy shifted herself a little closer. Leaned in a little more.
“I miss having fun with you.”
And that caused Steve some pause.
“Are you saying…?”
“I don't want to be sad about Jonathan. I just want to have fun.”
Then she was kissing him.
Nancy was kissing Steve. And despite being slightly stunned, he started kissing back. They closed their eyes and sat together in the dark of his living room. Kissing with the kind of practiced familiarity that exists when two people have done that sort of thing together before.
And it was nice.
In a way, it had to be.
It was two people who cared about each other, connecting in a way they used to.
Nancy starting to move in. Deepening the moment, making it more, and heating it up.
She broke the kiss to breathe, and in that second she whispered something.
“I love you, Steve.”
And maybe she did, maybe she didn't. Maybe she didn't have the time or clarity to think about it enough. Maybe she shouldn't have said it if she wasn't really sure. But it all broke apart because she said she didn't. So the best idea she had, in that moment while she had Steve, before she had a chance to lose him, was to say she did.
To tell him what he wanted to hear.
And Nancy got back to it. She started shrugging off the cardigan on her shoulders. Her hands separated from Steve's jaw to shake off the knit sleeves. She turned to rise and kneel on the couch. Coming up taller than Steve at that angle. And he just followed her.
They started breathing heavier, but… then Steve's eyebrows pinched together.
No.
Steve turned his face, his lips moving away from Nancy's. She started to lower, possibly planning to go for his neck when he told her,“ Nancy… I don’t think this is right.”
She shook her head, their noses almost touching with the closeness,” Come on, it’s fine. Jonathan and I broke up, so it’s-”
“No. Nancy.” Steve grabbed her by her arms and put a little distance between them,” I- I don’t think this is what I want.”
Nancy looked at him. Confused for a moment as she sat back onto her heels. Steve loosened his hold on her arms and she wondered,” But you…?”
They've been seeing each other more recently. And Robin brought it up. Was practically trying to sell Nancy on the idea before. And he caught her when she was Vecna'd, then she dove after him into Lover's Lake and patched up his injuries in the Upside Down. And he told her about all those dreams about a big family in a Winnebago. And… They broke up because Nancy didn't love him, but they'd changed so much and she just said she did. So…
Why not?
Steve took a steadying breath before he tried to explain,“ I think I thought I wanted you. But I think I just wanted to hear you say you love me again after you said you didn’t. And that's not-”
Nancy drew back,” So, this was-”
“I’m sorry-”
“No, this was just some ploy to get back at me from when I was drunk on Halloween? Really?” And it wasn't like that, but that's how it made sense to her. “Just when a girl thinks you’ve actually changed, Steve Harrington.”
That cut deep. Steve didn't want her to think of him like that, he wasn't like that. That's not what he was trying to do or let happen. He just didn't know until he did, and then he knew so he stopped it.
“That’s not what I’m saying, Nance. I just didn’t know that I-”
“That you didn’t want me. Classy.” She roughly grabbed her cardigan and stood up from the couch.
“I’m sorry-”
But Nancy was so tired of bullshit, shallow apologies.
“No, I’m sorry. My bad. I’m the stupid one.” She shook her head while she went for the door,” Screw you, Steve. Should’ve known it’d all still be bullshit.”
#Remember babes - I need you to hold Nancy so gently rn ❤️#She is going through the trenches of ✨teenage girlhood✨ and ✨trauma✨ so she is making come complicated impulsive decisions right now#And we are going to listen to where she's coming from and watch how this unfolds without demonizing her for not being perfect#Just like Steve is figuring things out - so is Nancy ❤️#Besides all that - I hope y'all loved all the EdNancy I've been itching to give you#I had so much joy in developing Nancy's feelings about Barb and giving Eddie more backstory#Making them a distinctly matching pair in a way no one could've seen coming#Platonic Besties running parallel to Stobin in nature#But in their own way#Next chap is going to deal with the consequences of Jon and Nancy's actions and everyone figuring out how to heal from them!#Can't wait!#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#Steddie#Steveddie#Steve x Eddie#Nancy Wheeler#Robin Buckney#Ronance#Robin x Nancy#The Fruity Four#Dustin Henderson#Stranger Things#Stranger Things 4#stranger things fanfiction#ST4 fanfic#Steddie Fanfic#Ronance Fanfic
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Where to Start Your Research When Writing a Disabled Character
[large text: Where to Start Your Research When Writing a Disabled Character]
So you have decided that you want to make a disabled character! Awesome. But what's next? What information should you decide on at the early phrase of making the character?
This post will only talk about the disability part of the character creation process. Obviously, a disabled character needs a personality, interests, and backstory as every other one. But by including their disability early in the process, you can actually get it to have a deeper effect on the character - disability shouldn't be their whole life, but it should impact it. That's what disabilities do.
If you don't know what disability you would want to give them in the first place;
[large text: If you don't know what disability you would want to give them in the first place;]
Start broad. Is it sensory, mobility related, cognitive, developmental, autoimmune, neurodegenerative; maybe multiple of these, or maybe something else completely? Pick one and see what disabilities it encompasses; see if anything works for your character. Or...
If you have a specific symptom or aid in mind, see what could cause them. Don't assume or guess; not every wheelchair user is vaguely paralyzed below the waist with no other symptoms, not everyone with extensive scarring got it via physical trauma. Or...
Consider which disabilities are common in real life. Cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy, stroke, cataracts, diabetes, intellectual disability, neuropathy, multiple sclerosis, epilepsy, thyroid disorders, autism, dwarfism, arthritis, cancers, brain damage, just to name a few.
Decide what specific type of condition they will have. If you're thinking about them having albinism, will it be ocular, oculocutaneous, or one of the rare syndrome-types? If you want to give them spinal muscular atrophy, which of the many possible onsets will they have? If they have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which one out of the 13 different types do they have? Is their amputation below, or above the knee (it's a major difference)? Not all conditions will have subtypes, but it's worth looking into to not be surprised later. This will help you with further research.
If you're really struggling with figuring out what exact disability would make sense for your character, you can send an ask. Just make sure that you have tried the above and put actual specifics in your ask to give us something to work with. You can also check out our "disabled character ideas" tag.
Here are some ideas for a character using crutches.
Here are some ideas for a character with a facial difference (obligatory link: what is a facial difference?).
If you already know what disability your character is going to have;
[large text: If you already know what disability your character is going to have;]
Start by reading about the onset and cause of the condition. It could be acquired, congenital, progressive, potentially multiple of these. They could be caused by an illness, trauma, or something else entirely. Is your character a congenital amputee, or is it acquired? If acquired - how recently? Has it been a week, or 10 years? What caused them to become disabled - did they have meningitis, or was it an accident? Again, check what your options are - there are going to be more diverse than you expect.
Read about the symptoms. Do not assume or guess what they are. You will almost definitely discover something new. Example: a lot of people making a character with albinism don't realize that it has other symptoms than just lack of melanin, like nystagmus, visual impairment, and photophobia. Decide what your character experiences, to what degree, how frequently, and what do they do (or don't do) to deal with it.
Don't give your character only the most "acceptable" symptoms of their disability and ignore everything else. Example: many writers will omit the topic of incontinence in their para- and tetraplegic characters, even though it's extremely common. Don't shy away from aspects of disability that aren't romanticized.
Don't just... make them abled "because magic". If they're Deaf, don't give them some ability that will make them into an essentially hearing person. Don't give your blind character some "cheat" so that they can see, give them a cane. Don't give an amputee prosthetics that work better than meat limbs. To have a disabled character you need to have a character that's actually disabled. There's no way around it.
Think about complications your character could experience within the story. If your character wears their prosthetic a lot, they might start to experience skin breakdown or pain. Someone who uses a wheelchair a lot has a risk of pressure sores. Glowing and Flickering Fantasy Item might cause problems for someone photophobic or photosensitive. What do they do when that happens, or how do they prevent that from happening?
Look out for comorbidities. It's rare for disabled people to only have one medical condition and nothing else. Disabilities like to show up in pairs. Or dozens.
If relevant, consider mobility aids, assistive devices, and disability aids. Wheelchairs, canes, rollators, braces, AAC, walkers, nasal cannulas, crutches, white canes, feeding tubes, braillers, ostomy bags, insulin pumps, service dogs, trach tubes, hearing aids, orthoses, splints... the list is basically endless, and there's a lot of everyday things that might count as a disability aid as well - even just a hat could be one for someone whose disability requires them to stay out of the sun. Make sure that it's actually based on symptoms, not just your assumptions - most blind people don't wear sunglasses, not all people with SCI use a wheelchair, upper limb prosthetics aren't nearly as useful as you think. Decide which ones your character could have, how often they would use them, and if they switch between different aids.
Basically all of the above aids will have subtypes or variants. There is a lot of options. Does your character use an active manual wheelchair, a powerchair, or a generic hospital wheelchair? Are they using high-, or low-tech AAC? What would be available to them? Does it change over the course of their story, or their life in general?
If relevant, think about what treatment your character might receive. Do they need medication? Physical therapy? Occupational therapy? Orientation and mobility training? Speech therapy? Do they have access to it, and why or why not?
What is your character's support system? Do they have a carer; if yes, then what do they help your character with and what kind of relationship do they have? Is your character happy about it or not at all?
How did their life change after becoming disabled? If your character goes from being an extreme athlete to suddenly being a full-time wheelchair user, it will have an effect - are they going to stop doing sports at all, are they going to just do extreme wheelchair sports now, or are they going to try out wheelchair table tennis instead? Do they know and respect their new limitations? Did they have to get a different job or had to make their house accessible? Do they have support in this transition, or are they on their own - do they wish they had that support?
What about *other* characters? Your character isn't going to be the only disabled person in existence. Do they know other disabled people? Do they have a community? If your character manages their disability with something that's only available to them, what about all the other people with the same disability?
What is the society that your character lives in like? Is the architecture accessible? How do they treat disabled people? Are abled characters knowledgeable about disabilities? How many people speak the local sign language(s)? Are accessible bathrooms common, or does your character have to go home every few hours? Is there access to prosthetists and ocularists, or what do they do when their prosthetic leg or eye requires the routine check-up?
Know the tropes. If a burn survivor character is an evil mask-wearer, if a powerchair user is a constantly rude and ungrateful to everyone villain, if an amputee is a genius mechanic who fixes their own prosthetics, you have A Trope. Not all tropes are made equal; some are actively harmful to real people, while others are just annoying or boring by the nature of having been done to death. During the character creation process, research what tropes might apply and just try to trace your logic. Does your blind character see the future because it's a common superpower in their world, or are you doing the ancient "Blind Seer" trope?
Remember, that not all of the above questions will come up in your writing, but to know which ones won't you need to know the answers to them first. Even if you don't decide to explicitly name your character's condition, you will be aware of what they might function like. You will be able to add more depth to your character if you decide that they have T6 spina bifida, rather than if you made them into an ambiguous wheelchair user with ambiguous symptoms and ambiguous needs. Embrace research as part of your process and your characters will be better representation, sure, but they will also make more sense and seem more like actual people; same with the world that they are a part of.
This post exists to help you establish the basics of your character's disability so that you can do research on your own and answer some of the most common ("what are symptoms of x?") questions by yourself. If you have these things already established, it will also be easier for us to answer any possible questions you might have - e.g. "what would a character with complete high-level paraplegia do in a world where the modern kind of wheelchair has not been invented yet?" is much more concise than just "how do I write a character with paralysis?" - I think it's more helpful for askers as well; a vague answer won't be much help, I think.
I hope that this post is helpful!
Mod Sasza
#mod sasza#writing reference#writing advice#writing resources#writeblr#writing disabled characters#writing resource#long post#writing tips#writing guide
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"and if he's only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me?"
Ok think I've finally worked out what was bugging me with them miscommunicating when Blitz yells.
"Would he want me if he were free?" Stolas' starting premise is if Blitz wasn't ok with the deal, and didn't like him; then he's a monster and an abuser.
If it's was only sex to Blitz, then he's just like Stella.
It's why he gives up, saying he has his answer; when Blitz assumes the crystal must be a prop for more of their deal.
"tethered to someone in such an unfair way". Ok this bit had my mind immediately go to the divorce.
The marriage was arranged by someone must more powerful than Stolas, to someone he'd never choose for himself. An "entire life's been written in stone" in fact; he thinks he's done the same thing to the man he loves.
While it is perfectly reasonable for Blitz to get angry, feeling blindsided and dismissed; asking for a "fucking minute", the next bit reads very differently to both of them.
"You spring this feeling bullshit on me. Are you fucking kidding! *Kicks open the door* Can I get a Fucking minute to think after everything you put me through! You pompous rich Asshole! *Stolas' flinches the same way he does when Stella screams at him.*
"Treat me like one of your little butler imps. You can't just Dismiss me like that. I mean you royal Fucks think you can think you can do this every single time. Like you can just play with our feelings, because we're smaller and not as important. Well I'm Not letting you bitch. *Flinches again* Let's Go!".
Blitz is telling Stolas that he doesn't want to be sent away, and that he wants think about it. His abandonment issues are fully kicked in.
He's trying to force Stolas into a fight, to get him to engage with him. Likely a repeated pattern from his last serious relationship with Voroskia.
Trying to pick a fight, to get to make up sex, to get them back to 'normal'. Because that's how he's been dealing with their "complicated" for a while now. If it's about sex he knows how to deal with what they have.
(Blitz is word perfect on the fight with Verosika after all; so they probably got back together a few times after stealing from her).
Blitz immediately goes to "I can do better", and try give it back; when he thinks Stolas doesn't want to see him anymore.
"you royal Fucks think you can think you can do this every single time."
But that's not what Stolas is hearing right now. Stolas hears is 'your all the same. All royal are as bad as eachother'.
It's very close to Striker explaining how the world works during his torture.
And now he thinks that the only man he's ever loved hates him because what he is.
That's what he meant by "think so of low of me".
And he's not exactly wrong. Fizz even calls Blitz on hating that Stolas is a prince.
And Blitz does say "They're all the fuckin' same". (Blitz isn't wrong for calling out Stolas on how he treats his staff either)...
Then there's the bit that seems fairly contentious. Stolas portaling Blitz out.
Stolas is a domestic abuse survivor, only a couple of weeks out of the hospital, because his wife tried to murder him. He's going freak out at loud voices, angry swearing, and doors being kicked in.
He going assume that this is Blitz getting a few kicks in on the way out; not him genuinely trying to talk through their problems just because of the format.
They are both stumbling over eachothers trauma landmines here.
Neither is wrong.
Not Stolas for walking away, or making the shouty person leave.
Not Blitz for getting scared, upset and feeling abandoned. Thinking Stolas isn't giving him a chance to think it through.
Blitz is going to get that time he wants to think it over. It's not an all or none thing.
He now has his business safe and secured in his own hands, and knows that Stolas likes him too. Those are biggys.
It's entirely up to Blitz what he wants to do now.
#helluva boss#blitzo x stolas#stolitz#Stolas really thinks he's as bad as the people who hate watching think he is#Blitz's abandonment issues result in him being misunderstood like crazy
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She just learned today who stole her baby. Let her process, goddammit!
#erda#og post#gtfo with the romantic music#leave her a few days to deal with her emotions!!!!!#they really sped this whole reveal and shoved it into three days#i get that she's already suffered for years and there's no need to torture her more but they should've started this part of the arc earlier#that way she could have at least processed some of the emotions by now and things wouldn't be so weird#don't throw her into a romance after she spent 30 years getting over the last one and the assumed death of her daughter#i'll bet you that they were thinking “him being here to make dealing with this so much easier for her will show the depth of their bond”#but um... all you're doing is making light of her grief and trauma#it's been half a day since she learned the whole truth and he's like “you should let go of this”#bestie that's sociopathic#she's legit having an existential crisis and you're doing this#he's like “you know none of this is your fault right?” and she's like “i don't know anything”#she's going to start dissociating next#BUT and i hate myself for this but there is cuteness here and i want to focus on it#his face when she's blaming herself is pure confusion and funny af#his offer to go out isn't flirting; it's just an attempt to make sure her thoughts won't be spinning in a vicious circle all night#and despite her protests she gets up on her own from the couch; he doesn't have to tug her up#i'm not crazy about the fact that she acknowledges that they barely know each other because that pretty much doesn't change before#they start sleeping together (2 days from now) but she's definitely just making excuses because she wants to be with him even in her state#and he just wants to love her and pay her attention#(although i don't know which part of her personal tragedy makes him feel like life isn't so harsh; i guess he's talking about her presence)#and he got her to admit that he soothes her which... good; she needs a lot of that#so overall this scene is 50/50 but just like everything else could have benefited from better pacing of the plot#(i thought i'd written a novel in the tags before but it can't compare to this)
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You, Wriothesley's therapist.
TW: mentions of murder, depression, trauma
Sigewinne takes care of the physical injuries in the Fortress...but that place must have a lot of mental instabilities, trauma, depressive states as well, right?
Enter you who is hired by the Iudex to take frequent visits to the fortress and check on a list of people's well-beings.
The Iudex hired you, not the duke, though it WAS the duke's idea, he didn't think he was fit to choose and hire a "therapist", Neuvillette was probably more adept at that.
On the first day of your job, the list or people to check on is rather extensive and you talk and meet with a lot of new people just on the first day.
That guy who killed his best friend and is haunted by dreams of the scene.
That young lady who has spiralled into depression because she's separated from and unable to see her daughter.
That old man who has anger issues because he just didn't think he had done anything wrong.
It was probably a week or two after you were appointed that you finally met the person in charge of the place. The Duke, as they call him.
He seemed like a pretty strict guy, but when he thanked you for looking after the people here, you thought he wasn't that bad.
"I'm just doing my job,"
"A really hard one at that," he comments.
The next time you see him is months after, but this time he only passes you a glance, and rather quickly strides off to his office.
The next day, he seeks you out and apologizes for it.
"I was...in a bit of a rush,"
You wonder why he even apologizes. "...It's no big deal,"
"...I hope that you know that you're welcome here. I don't think you quite understand how difficult your job is, trying to shoulder everyone's past and fixing their psyche for their future,"
You look up at him, and tilt your head a little, squinting your eyes and trying to get a good read out of him...then it hits you.
The Duke needs therapy too.
"...I think you're a little stressed, your grace. Is there a quiet place where we can comfortably chat in?"
How were you to know it was going to end up in tea time? Yes the duke had issues, some deep seated ones, but not as much as the common folk that you were trying to work with. And yet you found yourself having tea with him even though it wasn't "work" related anymore.
All the two of you talked about were stories of the past, and shared a laugh or two about some silly or outrageous story he or you shared.
Weeks later there came a time when the angry old man you'd been working on had an outburst. He didn't mean to. None of your patients ever mean to, not when they had such big emotions, such big events to get over, such pent up emotions and such deep, deep regrets.
Old man had thrown a wrench at you, he was surprisingly strong, probably from working in the fortress for a while. You were caught off guard, not to mention you weren't even sitting too far away from him. You managed to shield yourself from it, but your arm bruised hours later.
You didn't think it merited a visit to Sigewinne, besides it was nearly home time for you.
"Done for the day?" You bristled a little at the sudden voice of the Duke, not expecting to see anymore of him today.
"Mmhmm," you simply answered his grin. You also didn't think it was something to hide from him. So your bruised arm was there for him to see in plain sight.
His grin disappearing and his eyes narrowing at the sight alerted you that it was perhaps something that you should've kept from him. "Where'd you get that?" He was 1000% sure you didn't have it when you had tea with him at noontime today.
"This...Well...Corrin was...having a particularly bad day," you moved your arm behind your back with a small smile, wanting to brush it off, but Wriothesley puts his hand out in expectation.
"Let me see it,"
For a moment the two of you just stare each other down. You wondering what the big deal was, him not backing down. When you didn't move an inch he gives in and adds the magic word. "Let me see it, please,"
You lift your arm up towards his head with a sigh and he receives it shockingly gently. He inspects it like it's some kind of puzzle he needs to solve, thorough and detailed. "Did you let Sigewinne see?" before you could even reply he adds "How did this even happen? Why was I not told?"
"It's..." You start. How do you explain? That you were supposed to be your patients' safe space. That nothing is supposed to harm them when in a session with you, that everything was in confidentiality. Working with troubled people, things like this were bound to happen, and it was only the first time.
He catches on to it quite quickly. "...It's your job," he finishes for you.
"...Precisely,"
The big sigh he lets out at the same time as releasing your arm has you wondering, really, why he seemed so stressed all over again. Over you.
Did you really not know the reason? You had an inkling why, you were a therapist after all. You got into people's minds for a living and Wriothesley wasn't exactly being subtle, but... you didn't want to assume.
"...How about I come with you next time?" he offers. You smile a little. "I don't think Corrin would be comfortable enough to talk with you hovering around,"
He grumbles something under his breath, like a defeated, stubborn puppy. "He doesn't have to know... I'll stand outside, or something,"
You laugh a little. "...The Iudex already has terms on my working contract when things like this happen. I'm supposed to drop the patient if "physical disputes" happen a total of three times and after three warnings are given."
Wriothesley huffs, though it sounds more like a scoff. "Leave it to him to think of everything. Doesn't seem fair," he moves so that he stands next to you, and places a hand on your upper back, pushing you the slightest bit to walk with him. You notice he's steering you towards the Fortress' infirmary.
"What doesn't seem fair?" You ask with genuine curiosity, not knowing what he was implying.
He's silent only for a beat more, but he doesn't look at you as he answers, only continues walking forward. "That he gets to protect you and I don't,"
You can't mistake the somersault your heart makes, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling silly.
The Duke needs the occasional therapy.
Or maybe he just needs you.
#genshin impact#genshin impact fluff#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley fluff#genshin impact wriothesley
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peters nerdy side>>>> can we get more hot nerdy peter pretty pleaseeeee
nerdy peter makes me feral.
Peter Parker was finally rewarded for all the shit he deals with.
A teen, who was a silent walker in school, but a near lethal hero at night, one that has to deal with more stress and traumas than any other kid at seventeen. Night after night, his spirit being broken down a little more each bad guy he’s put away.
Queens see a hero that keeps the streets clean.
Sometimes, all Peter could see was someone’s dad, or husband, or son he was putting away.
All that bullshit he’s been dealt, the bullshit about power and responsibility, was washed away when he finally got something good, something he really thought he deserved.
He got you, and that’s why he’ll stop at nothing to keep you.
“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”
Was it dumb to listen to Flash of all people? Maybe.
Does he know more about girls and has a better track record at keeping them? Yes.
But of course, just like how you were the one to approach him, ask him out, kiss him first and ask for him to be your boyfriend, he should’ve trusted you. Could you really blame him though, not totally trusting he can have a purely good thing with no consequences?
He couldn’t, that’s why it shocked him when you made it clear you only wanted him.
You wanted Peter Parker, however he came. Science facts, nerdy hobbies, tirades and all.
—---------------------
Have you ever built up an idea of who someone was in your head, and when you date the other shoe drops and they’re nothing like you thought?
That was you with Peter Parker.
He was adorably perfect, noticing him when sharing a history class. Peter sat three seats up from you on the left, perfect position for you to watch his habits. The shake in his leg, tapping pencils on his desk, blowing a breath every time someone answered incorrectly, sitting up and leaning over his desk when something catches his attention, chewing his bottom lip while going over notes, poking his tongue out when he takes a test.
Peter Parker was the constant subject on your mind, starting in history and causing you to look for him in other classes, you only shared one more, typing class. He was three rows behind you, there wasn’t a good way to look at him, instead having to rely on his quiet murmurs when the teacher stands behind his computer.
After two weeks of pining you couldn’t stand it, stomping over to his table at lunch you sit down right next to him. His friends paused at your sudden and aggressive entrance.
“Hi. We haven’t really talked but we share typing and history. For two weeks straight I’ve been watching you and I can’t get you out of my head, and I would really, really like to go on a date with you.”
You can see it on his face, how he goes from shock to excitement, then as he looks you over his face falls. He thinks you’re fucking with him, you don’t know how to make him believe it’s real.
“Here,” you pull at your backpack and rip the front pocket open, you pull a sharpie out and with a slight tremble you grab his arm, pushing his sleeve up you uncap the marker with your teeth. Scribbling your number onto his skin, “think about it, let me know.”
Before you lose your steam you scramble to stand and grab your bag, “okay, that’s all. Um,” you nod at his friends, silence deafening as everyone at the table takes in the scenario. “Thank you, and… enjoy lunch?” Cringing, you turn to leave, whispering an ‘oh my god,’ to yourself while pressing a hand to your cheek.
Peter is sure in that moment you were a hundred percent serious and you just mortified yourself, spilling your guts and being met with nothing.
Six steps away he calls out, “yes!”
You pause, then turn, “what?”
“Yes! I’ll go on a date with you.”
Oh, that’s a new feeling. It felt like your heart had wings, your stomach felt like you were on a rollercoaster, flutters everywhere. You couldn’t even try to play it cool, the guy you’ve been crazy about just as interested and curious as you were. A toothy smile overtook your face, eyes lit up.
Taking a few steps closer, you felt giddy.
“Really? You will?”
Peter’s smile matched yours, he laughed through his answer, he can’t believe you actually like him that much. “Yeah.” Biting your bottom lip you pull it together, “cool, text me and we’ll plan something?”
“You got it.”
Nodding you walk off, Peter’s riding on a high like never has. He’s never had such a pretty girl like you like him, want him, notice him. He felt like he’s been rewarded, that he does deserve a good thing.
Flash scoffs when you sit back at your table, immediately talking and watching faces gasp and squeal.
“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”
The last thing he wants to do, before he even gets you, is send you off. So, he listens and promises to be someone that should be with a girl like you, someone that isn’t really him.
—---------------------
You figured it was first date nerves.
That or just the fact you’ve never been alone with each other, especially under the guise of a date. It wasn’t like he was weird, but he was off. The person you watched in class was goofy, using his body to express himself, confident when speaking because he could back every word up.
This Peter was quiet, guarded and almost… boring.
You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, he just had some jitters. Maybe if you kissed him it would settle him, you could prove that you liked him and he had nothing to be nervous about. Trying to look past his awkwardness you took the night as it was, wishing he was making you laugh like he had in class, or wishing he would ramble on in a story like you’ve watched him do with his friends at lunch or at his locker.
It may have been different than you thought but he’d come around after a date or two surly, you’d kiss him and after another few dates he’ll open up and be his true self. It was hope, but you were riding on it.
Peter ended the night by walking you home, conversation slowly dwindling as you approached closer, falling flat when you were in front of the building. Waiting for a moment you looked at his mouth, he made no reaction, you hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet but to not offer anything made you feel unsure.
“Can I kiss you?”
It was obvious from the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting anything in the slightest, but he licked his bottom lip and nodded softly, “yeah,” leaning in you wait for a moment, he makes no move, he has to be extremely nervous, no other option. You kissed him, you pressed into him and grabbed his face, his hands gently hovered and you pulled away.
Maybe he just pitied you, just agreed because you put him on the spot.
“Um, you know if you didn’t want-”
“Can we do this again, please?”
And just because he asked, and because it seemed like he realized he acted off and he wanted another chance, and because you really do believe in first date jitters, you say yes.
—--------------
The first time you went over to his house his room was oddly clean, empty spaces on his bookshelf and shelves, almost like he’d put things away. Eyeing a bin by his closet you walked closer, “you collect comics?” Hoping you wouldn’t find, but still opening the top and starting to look through the ones on top.
Peter took a deep breath, “as a kid, kinda stupid now, don’t you think?”
You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, looking back down at the comic in your hand. You thought when you started dating he’d open up more, instead he got more closed off.
Clearing your throat you place the comics back in, in the exact same order and putting the lid back on. “No, I don’t think they’re stupid. I was hoping you had some new ones I could catch up on, but if you think they’re stupid now I guess I’ll have to get ‘em myself.”
If he had known you like comics he would’ve never said that. It’s his fault for leaving them out, he should’ve put them away like everything else that screamed ‘nerd alert’.
“I didn’t mean they’re stupid, just you know… collecting them as an adult… is.. weird?”
The lamest excuse you’ve ever heard, but you keep your patience. It hasn't even been two weeks, he’ll come around. You know it.
—------
Surprising Peter with a hug he budged against your weight before supporting you, talking to a friend while he wrapped his arms around your back. Picking up on pieces of the conversation you nudge your head up, interested in his words.
The Peter you like, the one that’s animated and rambling, moving his hands across your back as he talks. You place a kiss at the bottom of his neck, “whatcha talking about?” It sounded like a new program that was going to change the future of computer engineering, when you questioned he blew you off. “Nothing important.”
You had tried, you tried to be kind and patient and understanding but he just wasn’t who you wanted. You wanted that person, the person that’s excited about new technology and collected comic books.
Peter closed off when you asked, guarded back up, you wished it could’ve been different. Maybe one day he’d open up more, you didn’t want anything but his true self.
You gave it a month before you had to accept that Peter Parker wasn’t the person you thought he was, today, you had to accept that you were breaking up with Peter Parker. Pulling away you grab his arm, silently telling him to look at you.
“Can I come over later?”
“Yeah, of course. Wanna come with me after school?”
“Sure,” you wondered if he could see through your smile. It doesn’t seem like it, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss, you pull away and back away through the halls.
He has no idea what’s coming.
—------------
Gently pushing Peter’s shoulders down to coax him into sitting on the edge of his bed, you grin politely when he follows instruction. Dragging his desk chair to sit in front of him you pause to think about what you were going to say, clearing your throat you begin.
“So, I like you a lot, and I’ve enjoyed having you as my boyfriend for the past month-”
Peter’s eyebrows furrow, he holds his hand up, “enjoyed? Are you breaking up with me?”
You bite your lip and nod solemnly, “I’m sorry, Peter.”
The silence is unsettling, you look away from him, his figures deflated and his mind races.
“Why?”
Taking a deep breath and blowing it out you shrug, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Peter. But, uh, you’re just… not what I thought you’d be like.”
How could you not like him? He’s done everything right. He was the perfect suitor, he acted like the typical non nerd male. The kind of all american guy every girl wanted.
“I don’t… what does that mean?”
You laugh, “I have a type, and you’re not it. I like nerds, like, straight up goofy, funny guys that know something about everything and collect comic books and get excited at new, humanity altering technology. I thought you were that guy, but I guess not.”
Oh my god.
He’s fucked it all up, he was dumb enough to believe you wanted something else.
He can show you he’s a nerd, he’s been one his entire goddamn life, he’s about to nerd olympics the hell out of you.
Peter jumps from his seat so quickly it startles you, his hands come down on the armrests of your chair, the seat tilting backwards as he pushes his weight towards you.
“I’m the biggest nerd you’ll ever meet.”
Your seat jostles when he lets go and opens his closet, pulling out a box he sets it on his bed.
“This is everything I put away when we started dating,” he turns with three rubik’s cubes, each one in various sizes. “,these are my rubik’s cubes, I can finish the standard in forty three seconds, the six by six took me about thirty minutes and this baby?” he bounced the biggest one in his hold, “, this is a twenty one by twenty one, it took me about three hours.”
Peter dropped them to the bed and continued, “and this is my national championship trophy for chess club,” he shoves it in your face before he keeps digging, a small picture frames come next, “this is when I won the states most innovative science fair project,” frantic digging, “, this is a figurine of my favorite video game,” two large disc sets next, “lord of the rings and star wars,”
He spins around, flying past your body where he picks up his comic book container, “remember when I was late to our date last week? I was getting these,” three new additions of an old comic you had just started to pick up, “, and currently?” Peter moved to his desk, tapping on his keyboard until his screen woke up, code covered the screen, he pointed between the monitor and a notebook, “I’m learning to read binary code.”
You felt like the grinch because your heart grew the times the size, adoration blossomed, you could feel your chest crack and glow. The Peter you wanted, the person you thought he was from the start, was real and in front of you.
This was who he was, so why was he hiding it?
“Why did you hide that from me? Peter, that’s like, the entire reason I wanted to date you. I liked who you were, then you turned into someone else.”
Peter rested against his desk and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I figured a pretty girl like you wouldn’t want some nerdy guy, it might be cute at first but when I’m stoked about something I read on wikipedia and make it my thing for a day and talk your ear off about it, you’re gonna wish you had a boyfriend that just watches sport clips for fun.”
That’s the point you were trying to make, “that’s what I want! I was literally dumping you because you weren’t that.”
“Well, I am that. So there’s no point in breaking up, right?”
You hum and spin in his chair, “I dunno… you dragged me along for a month, hiding yourself from me, making me question everything. I mean, you have a lot to make up for, parker.”
“C’mere,” you’re not given an option, he reaches forward and pulls the chair towards him and pulls you from the seat, flopping himself down and tugging you into his lap. Your stomach clenches, this was the confident Peter you wanted, it was confidence in himself.
His pointer finger taps on the monitor, “you read binary from right to left, and you separate them into groups of eight. Now the key is knowing that each one and zero mean-”
Your mouth on his, cutting his words off with a kiss, you held his face tightly, never wanting him to separate from you. Caught off guard he froze for a moment, then wrapped his hands around your middle. Pressing into him, separating for air but giving small pecks.
“Baby,” kiss, “, I’m sorry,” kiss, “, I shut,” kiss, “, you out,” kiss, “I didn’t,” kiss, “, know it meant,” kiss, “, so much,” kiss, “, to you,” kiss.
“You’re so much smarter than me,” a chaste kiss, “it’s so hot,” you look into his eyes, he’s flushed out and breathing harshly. “You’re so hot,” another kiss, Peter feels like the room is spinning, he’s never felt so wanted, so needed, the way you can’t stop kissing him, how tight you’re holding him to you, how blown your pupils are, the way you’re gulping him like water.
“I mean if you,” he grunts when you kiss down his neck, biting into his collarbone. “, if you want, I could show you how quick I can solve my rubik’s cube.” Your hands drag up his hair, gripping and tilting his head away, better access to nibble and lick the skin. “Or, recite the first seventy nine numbers of pi.”
Attention caught, “you know the first seventy nine numbers of pi?”
“Mm hmm, I could also tell you” a whimper, “, all the elements. Want me to start rattling them off?”
Kissing the middle of his throat you hum, “I’d rather you take your pants off.”
For the first time in Peter Parker’s life, memorizing the periodic table got him laid.
#peter parker blurb#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm! peter parker x reader#peter parker fluff#tasm peter x reader#peter parker angst#my writing
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AU where Steve has decent parents. They aren’t great, but they’re not bad. They show up for major things and tell him they love him, but they don’t understand him. They don’t get that he needs more than that.
So Steve’s nanny keeps in contact with him even after she’s let go because “Steve doesn’t need looking after” at the age of 10. She checks in with him all the time.
Ms. Munson is always bringing him a dish from her own dinner with her brother and son, making sure he has someone at the awards days at school, makes sure he has gifts at Christmas that he’ll actually like.
But she never invites him to her home and it doesn’t hit him until his senior year of high school that she’s Eddie Munson’s mom, that they live in the trailer park that he was never allowed to go to, that her brother must be Wayne, who took him fishing once when he got his heart broken by his first girlfriend.
He’s a different person now, but not to Eddie.
As time goes on, and he experiences more trauma than any single person should, and he gets Robin as a platonic soulmate, he realizes that Ms. Munson still shows up. His parents don’t bother much anymore, but she does.
And two days before spring break of ‘86, she sends Eddie to Steve’s house with a care package.
When Steve shuffles through the items, he nearly chokes on his own spit when he finds a bag of pre-rolled joints.
Eddie comes up with excuses, brushes it off as just a friendly gesture for someone his mom cares so much about.
But Steve won’t hear it. He asks him to stay and smoke one with him, take the edge off since he’s been dealing with midterms.
They get high on his back patio, talking and laughing late into the night, so late that Eddie almost worries he’ll have to go to school in his clothes from the day before.
Steve won’t hear it, offers his shower and his “most metal” clothes- his only black jeans and a plain white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off- and says he can sleep there for the couple of hours left before school.
Eddie wakes up to Steve making coffee and toast, using the jam his mom had included in the care package and a smile that made Eddie’s cynical heart flop in his chest.
Eddie didn’t think the next time he saw Steve would be when he was holding a broken bottle to his neck, terrified of everything and everyone, but the moment they had a second alone, Steve hugged him close.
“It’s a shit way to be welcomed into the group officially, but I’m glad you’re not alone.”
Steve and Eddie were inseparable while fighting Vecna, both of them insistent on protecting the kids.
When Steve managed to get Eddie to the motel the Munsons were staying in after El managed to get rid of Vecna, Ms. Munson was standing at the door with tears in her eyes.
“My boys.”
She patched them up, better than any doctor probably would have, giving them small kisses on the head when they winced in pain.
And eventually, she tucked them into one of the beds in the room, ignoring how they hadn’t stopped holding hands for the entire night.
She’d been hesitant to introduce them; Eddie, for all his talk of accepting people for who they are, struggled to accept how much she did for Steve, not understanding why he may need it.
But it seemed like she didn’t need to force anything. They found their way together in the end.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#idk idk idk I just think life has a lot of weird intricacies and sometimes we are connected in ways we don’t know until one tiny thing#happens and suddenly we realize#and I think in any universe Steve and Eddie would find a way#headcanon
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Let me set the scene:
It's the Vegas Grand Prix, 2023. Lando has his crash, is high as a bloody kite in the hospital. Lando sees his nurse and I'd convinced he's dead bc 'why else would there be a legit angel?'
This is super short and silly but I absolutely adore this request! Thank you <3
P.S. I also love this and it is possibly one of my favourite photos of him! Boy is high as balls.
The red emergency phone rang, signaling an incoming ambulance, and you answered it with a sigh. "Mercy General Emergency Department," you answered as you clicked your pen and got the handover sheet ready to write down the patient information.
"Male…24…high-speed crash into a wall," you repeated back to dispatch that alerted you to the incoming patient, hating that you’d be spending what was left of your shift dealing with someone’s drunken antics or stupidity that had crashed them into a wall.
"How fast was he going?" you asked, not expecting the answer.
"180."
"Come again? 180mph and he’s still alive?" you repeated, not being able to hide the shock. "Do we need blood? X-Ray? Trauma surgeons and blood on standby? No one has called ahead." You suddenly woke up from the usual lull you felt around this time during your shift, your mind suddenly in full trauma mode.
"No, just precautionary checks. Patient is a Formula One driver and has been cleared by track medics, but they want a second opinion at the hospital and some scans in case."
Then it hit you…you followed F1 and had done for a few years. You’d been following the race on your phone during your breaks and knew Lando had crashed out during turn 14.
"Okay. Thank you, have you got an ETA?"
Dispatch relayed the time of arrival that gave you enough time to announce it over the tannoy and for your team to gather in one of the trauma rooms. You also called in security because you knew the press would be vultures all over this.
With the trauma room ready, you all waited for the arrival of your VIP patient. If you were being truthful, you were a little nervous at meeting one of your celebrity crushes but also knew you needed to keep it professional. What you didn’t expect was the goofy look on Lando’s face as he was wheeled on a stretcher into the room.
As soon as the paramedic crew had handed over and you’d transferred him over to the bed, you began attaching him to monitors and got your list of investigations and tests you’d need to perform from the doctor in charge.
The paramedics had clearly dosed him up with the good meds as he stirred in and out of consciousness, his eyes glassy and the goofy smile still plastered on his face every time his eyes met yours.
You woke him up once again, ready to check his pupils and GCS once more when he was a little more alert than he’d been since he arrived.
"Woah…am I dead?" his voice came out slightly slurred.
"The heart monitor beeping next to you would say otherwise," you laughed in reply.
"Are you sure, because why else would an actual angel be standing in front of me right now?"
You couldn’t help another laugh that escaped your lips as you watched him try to focus on you.
"And that would be the morphine," you fiddled with his IV and checked the fluids running before you input a few more things on his chart.
“I don’t think it is…” he slurred once more, “I know an angel when I see one.”
You were about to reply when you looked up from his chart and saw he’d fallen asleep, his head against his chest. You got up from your seat and adjusted his pillows so his neck wouldn’t be even more painful in the morning.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fic#my writing#beth writes#vivwritesfics
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i'm a huge sub lucifer believer but also. i'm shocked lucifer with a corruption kink isn't talked about more
like... as someone with religious trauma. that shits hot. fuckin "you were so devout when you were alive, what would they think of you now with the devil's cock in your mouth?" type shit? god. yes please
devoted to who?
a/n: next level brain activity; i like it. screaming, i need this man so bad
“look at you,” lucifer says lovingly, “all presented to me just. like. this.”
his words are dangerously slow, emphasizing each word that’s accompanied by a breathy moan as he coaxes you to look up at him. and you do, without much restraint against the devil himself.
“you’re so beautiful like this, dove,” you nearly gag at his sweet praise, cheeks tear-stricken not from how lucifer was rough with you—no, how he treated you was from it—he treated you as if you’re a delicate flower.
one that he desires to corrupt, that is.
“you were so devoted when you were alive,” he chuckled.
“i wonder... what would they think of you now when you have the devil’s cock in your mouth, hm?”
and you’re reminded that you were indeed sucking lucifer��s cock as if your life on earth had deprived you of the pleasure of doing so; well, that part was true. the back of your throat hurts, your jaw going slack as you bob your head alongside guidance, but not once did it ever cross your mind to stop.
“it’s addicting, isn’t it?”
“mmph..!”
“ah ah ah,” lucifer tuts.
“you know better than to try and speak when your mouth is full, my dove.”
if your former fellow believers saw you now, would they shun you? shame you for indulging in the acts that you lived your human life going against?
outcast you for losing the purity that you swore to reserve for the man you were supposed to marry?
lucifer’s voice doesn’t let you think too far, though. as if he knows just how you’re feeling—what you’re thinking in this exact moment.
“you’d rather do this, right, dove?” he asks.
with little consciousness left in your brain to decide, you nod. lucifer smiles, and you’re unaware that you’ve just signed yourself a paperless deal to be his loving, perfect little devoted dove.
“that’s good, fuck— yeah.. mm. don’t worry; i’ll take good care of you. as long as you devote yourself to me and only me, hm?”
“mmhm..”
“good dove.”
#smudged ໒꒱ ink#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer x y/n#lucifer smut#lucifer morningstar#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin lucifer
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decisions
luke castellan x child of hecate!reader
requested: yep! I hope you like it anon
warnings: allusions about death, but no character dies.
content: yall, it's 1 am rn, and I just wanna go to sleep. it's unedited and nothing bad happens I promise. I'll do a proper content thingy in the morning. pls enjoy while I pass out.
"you know those kids are probably gonna have nightmares for at least a week, right?"
you didn't need to turn to know who was behind you as you leaned against a tree trunk, toying with a twig in your hands. Luke castellan seemed to have an affinity for interrupting you anytime you found solace in being alone. you didnt know how he just... knew, when and where to find you during times like these, but he always did. you found yourself minding his presence less and less as time when on.
"they should consider themselves lucky, I was debating whether or not I should just summon a ghost for them tonight, but I figured they couldn't handle it, and this camp doesn't have any trauma counselling so." the leaves on the twig in your hand withered at an accelerated place in your hands, and a part of you felt bad. you usually kept your distance from anything living since you knew your touch had the possibility of having an adverse, and sometimes deadly affect, but tonight was just one of those nights.
Luke chuckled at your words, plucking one of the now wilted leaves from the twig in your grasp as he spoke up once more. "you know, I actually want you to help me with something, if you don't mind. I need help deciding whether or not I should do something."
you rolled your eyes, giving him a pointed look. "you know I can't make decisions for you. I don't have the ability to know what consequences you'll have to deal with."
"isn't hacate the goddess of crossroads?" Luke countered, a small smirk on his face. you knew that he was only pestering you because he thought it was funny that you always needed to explain your abilities and your godparent to people, but you couldn't just keep silent at his bait nonetheless.
"that doesn't make me some kind of fortune teller, I can't decide for you which direction to go to when you reach a fork on the path. I just have a vague understanding over what you're currently debating if you should do."
"okay okay, no fortune telling. but can you at least point me in the right direction? it doesn't matter how vague." he asked, and you tilted your head to stare up at the starry sky, because you knew that even in the dark, Luke could convince you to help him with nothing but a pleading glint in his deep eyes.
he didn't relent at tour silence or your avoidance of his gaze, uttering a small "please?" which finally broke your resolve.
you took a deep breath, finally looking at him once again, your face deep in concentration. "not a guide either. but I get the sense that... if you don't do what you're thinking of doing, you'll regret it." you felt a bit lightheaded afterwards, but the tree you were leaning against was enough security for you.
Luke on the other hand didnt seem to think so, showcased by how his hands immediately went to your shoulders in an effort to keep you up, while also unintentionally coming closer. a bit too close for comfort, but you were too foggy for the lack of distance to hit you yet.
he nodded at your advice, biting his lip before speaking once again, not missing the way your eyes flicked towards his lips and then back to his eyes, almost instantaneously.
"then I'll just go ahead and say it, I like you. a lot." he had expected a few different reactions, you immediately jumping into his arms and accepting his confession (his personal favourite hypothesis), you shyly stating that you felt the same way, you being shocked that he had feelings for you at all (he liked to believe that he wasn't entirely obvious) but he didn't expect what you did next.
instead, you blew air from your nose, giving him a look he couldn't quite place. "you have horrible taste. and you're also delusional. we've had maybe 4 conversations the entire we've known each other, and you like me?" you rolled your eyes, shaking your head at the words you were about to utter. "but I guess that makes me delusional too, because I feel the same way."
he pouted at your words, feigning hurt with a hand placed on his chest. "you wound me. if I had known you were gonna be this mean... I would've confessed sooner." he added with a slight smirk, trailing his other hand from your shoulder down to your waist, leaning his face towards yours.
you were quick to shut down his advance, maneuvering your way out of his hold. "one thing you're gonna need to get used to, castellan. no touching. at all. at least, not until I'm sure I can control my ability. you have a goodnight though." you called out as you walked away from a now needy Luke, leaving him leaning against the tree.
he quickly followed after you, trying to plead his case. "no touching? that's insane, how could I not touch you? I'm not afraid of death, especially if it comes from my hands on your body, or vice versa. I'll happily forfeit my life for a kiss. come on, I'm fine with just a peck. actually, no. I take that back. if I'm gonna die, we need to make out before I go."
you simply shook your head, reiterating your rule, unable to stop a grin from forming on your face. you stopped abruptly, turning to face him with a serious look in your eyes. "... okay. but just a peck. im serious."
it was not just a peck. but luckily, Luke made it out alive. (though, he seriously wouldn't have minded if he didn't.)
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan fanfiction#pjo x reader#pjo tv show#pjo series#pjo#percy series#percy jackson and the olympians#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan fic#luke castellan smut#luke castellan x you#luke castellan apologist#luke castellan angst
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VEDIC ASTROLOGY NOTES ♡
(Can apply to any planet placement)
⚡️Ashwini women always stand out to me with their creativity especially in acting , they rly know to embody the character they're playing to the fullest even irl it may be easier for them to shift thro different identities or alter-egos just for funsies
⚡️There's smtg about purva phalguni women , they're gorgeous but for some reason I noticed they get hate esp from other women like they're called fake or pick-mes or they make up stories hmm
⚡️Purva ashadha women are so inspiring like they're always the ones to be teaching or preaching or saying smtg inspiring/motivational. They're beauties with soul and a mind of their own ! If u know a purva ashadha better take notes 📝
⚡️Magha women love wearing black and something about their looks or style is unconventional/gothy, it suits them
⚡️Uttara-phalguni women are so headstrong bruh and they have this leadership aura about them, they're gonna do what THEY think is right. Like other sun-ruled nakshatras they easily get attention
⚡️Mrigashira women love the push & pull , cat &mouse game, they either attract this dynamic or they create it themselves. There's also smth about Mrigashira and obsession 👀
⚡️Jyestha women embody the wild feminine archetype imo, when evolved theyre truly empowered and have this idgaf energy. people may be threatened by their power or skills. Their voice or the way the speak is commanding and naturally charismatic
⚡️Swati/ardra and their eyes 👁👁 most captivating eyes imo I'm in luv
⚡️Purva bhadrapada women seem to attract or be drawn to men with dark nature or men who carry trauma ? Or they know how to bring that out in a man
⚡️Dhanishta women love dancing and they appear to be friendly or have many acquaintances but very little people they relate to. Popular girlies
⚡️Rohini women feminine energy is undeniable , something about them feels innocent yet erotic. They just give off this juicy fertile vibee lmao💦 unlike jyestha which is more dry (not in a bad way its just different 💀)
⚡️Anuradha women are secretive as hell even if they tell u shit don't think u have them all figured out. there's so much to unpack with them , they're generally intriguing complex characters
⚡️Most bratty nakshatras are mrigashira and chitra lmao
⚡️Revati women are pretty privilege girlies also they're master manipulators 👀 they know how to use their femininity to get what they want
⚡️Pushya women have big MOMMY energy. they seem/look mature. They're either the ones taking care of others or others take care of them
⚡️Uttara bhadrapada women have dualistic nature they're either the sweetest ppl u know or ur worst nightmare depending on who theyre dealing with 💀they're like a mirror projecting and reflecting back ur inner self back at ya (Pisces energy) also don't forget the karmic saturn influence.. u don't wanna mess w them or any other saturn ruled woman
⚡️Viahaka women go through intense ups and downs , starting from their good girl phase then they snap and go wild then they mature/become spiritual
⚡️Chitra women secretly (or not so secretly) enjoy drama , they're either the ones caught up in it or they play the role of the "judge" where they can solve conflicts between others. Somehow they're surrounded by it.
⚡️Don't underestimate krittika women especially when it comes to survival 💀 these women can be dangerous and will stab a bitch if they rly had to (whether its for defending loved ones or them surviving) their symbol is 🔪 after all and taurus/aries gives them that survival instinct
⚡️Ardra women can make great poets/song writers , their creativity and inspiration stems from their own 'tragic' experiences
⚡️Punarvasu women remind me of that quote "home is where the heart is" they always end up coming back to their origins and what they feel in their heart
Lemme know ur thoughts & what I should make next
#vedic astro notes#vedic astrology#vedic astro observations#nakshatra notes#nakshatras#chitra#ashlesha#revati#ashwini#magha#jyestha#anuradha#rohini#bharani#vishaka#krittika#purva phalguni#purva bhadrapada#purva ashadha#ardra#rahu#ketu#hasta#mula#mrigashira#dhanishta#shatabhisha#jyotish#punarvasu#astrology notes
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New Life, Old Problems (Leah Williamson x Reader)
Summary: You're trying to fully settle into your new life in London with your girlfriend. But when you get sick your past stops you from reaching out.
A/N: Finally managed to put something on paper again! By now I have about 6 stories (some multiple chapters) fully planned out in my head, but I struggle so much with actually writing any of it. Although it's getting a bit better, so I might become more active again.
This is the third part of the New Teammate series (Part 1, Part 2 Arsenal version). Although I think you should be fine to read this without reading the other parts first. Also this was definitely helped along by @holly-wallis, who reached out to tell me she was excited for the next part. So thank you again!
You thought you were doing well. You thought you had settled perfectly into your new life in London. You thought your relationship with Leah was going great. And all this was true, but only to a certain degree. Underneath the surface there were still many gaping wounds and you had a long way to go, which would take even longer because you refused to accept it, pretending like you were already at your destination.
How hard it really was for you to fully trust anyone, even Leah, to be vulnerable around her, became glaringly obvious when you got sick. As much as you wanted comfort, someone to take care of you, you couldn’t allow it. The thought of trusting anyone so much when you were in a vulnerable state left you panicked.
However there was no hiding your sickness. Leah and you had plans that day and if you came up with some random excuse your girlfriend might end up checking on you since it was unlike you to cancel without a good reason. And sadly you couldn’t think of a single good reason why you were unable to meet up with Leah. How were you supposed to do that when you could barely muster up the energy to go to the bathroom when needed?
In the end you decided that the truth was your best course of action. The defender had been exceptionally understanding about your situation and the multitude of struggles you still faced because of your past trauma. Honestly more understanding and patient than you were with yourself.
Despite being reasonably confident for a positive reaction you still were too much of a coward to call your girlfriend, opting to text her instead. ‘This was better for your sore throat anyway’, you reasoned with yourself.
R: Le, I’m sorry I have to cancel today. I got sick.
L: Oh no! Are you okay? No wait, scratch that. How bad are you feeling? Is there anything I can do? Bring you something? Or do you want me to come over to keep you company? I’d be happy to!
You looked at the sweet and caring words, Leah’s concern noticeable even from these few letters on your phone. The urge to text back and ask the Englishwoman to come over was huge. She would take good care of you; make you feel safe and loved. But you couldn’t allow it because what if…
You couldn’t even begin to describe what was hiding behind this what if. Maybe it was actually that, the big unknown, the completely unexpected. Never in your life would you have pictured what had gone done with Jimena and the whole team in Barcelona before it had actually happened. It had left you afraid to fully let your guard down because who knew when something unpredictable would happen again. And right now you were definitely too tired to keep up any guards, so your only option was to keep everyone far away from you.
R: That’s very sweet, but I can’t…I’m sorry.
With a rapidly beating heart you watched your phone, practically hypnotizing it, scared of your girlfriend’s reply. What if this was the final straw? As much as this possibility scared you, it was still more bearable than the alternative. At least it was an option you had already considered. You wouldn’t be blindsided by it. Plus if there was one thing you had gotten good at in the course of your life it was dealing with pain and people leaving you.
L: I understand, babe. But if you need anything please text or call me. And I’ll be right there! Take care of yourself! Sending you some remote cuddles. Love you!
Your whole body relaxed as you read this response, even some tears of relief rolling down your cheeks.
R: Thanks, darling, I will. And thank you so much for being so understanding!! Love you too!
And with that you put your phone away, buried yourself under the covers and fell asleep relatively quickly. The cold medicine you had taken before texting Leah doing its part in helping you drowse off without too much of uncomfortable shuffling. Your last thought was that hopefully you’d already feel better when you woke up again.
Unfortunately the opposite was the case. You were startled awake by a violent coughing fit that just wouldn’t stop. You thought that you could ride it out, but when it got to the point where you felt like you had to throw up from coughing so much, you forced your tired body out of bed and into the bathroom.
First you collapsed in front of the toilet, bending over the bowl, but once it became clear that you didn’t actually have to throw up, you dragged yourself into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.
As long as you were drinking you were fine, but as soon as you put the glass down the scratchiness in your throat returned with full force, swiftly followed by another cough attack.
You resigned yourself to keep standing there, leaning heavily against the counter, too tired to support your body weight with only your legs, and drink glass after glass, until finally you could put the water down without instantly dissolving into a coughing fit.
At that point you were trembling because of the cold, your teeth chattering and every single bone of your body seemed to be hurting. Still you didn’t immediately crawl back into bed, instead you gathered all of the supplies you might need to ride out this cold. You filled a bottle with water, grabbed some crackers and medicine and then you decided to also get a bowl to be on the safe side should you actually have to throw up at some point.
When you finally returned to bed, your breathing was labored and you all but fell into it. You quickly buried yourself under the blankets. It did little to warm you up though and you debated for a moment to get back up and get more blankets. The idea of moving again seemed entirely impossible however.
This time it took you a lot longer to fall asleep, silent tears streaming down your face because you felt so miserable. You yearned for some comfort, for Leah’s arms around you really, and you knew she would come in a heartbeat if you asked her. Still, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t!
The next time you woke up you felt even worse and it was at this point that you realized that you needed help. Somewhere in the hazy fog of fever and misery you managed to form this one rational thought. However you had little recollection of what happened next.
You remembered staring at Leah’s contact on your phone for a while, although you couldn’t say if you did so for a few seconds or minutes or even hours. In the end you decided against calling her, instead opting to get an Uber. How you managed to get to the hospital was beyond you. You had some vague memories of a very concerned and helpful Uber driver who even walked you into the ER.
Another thing you recalled was sending Leah a message once you sat in the waiting room, slumped against the wall and shivering violently.
R: Fine. At hospital. But fine. Don’t worry!!!!
You even remembered feeling very proud of this text; convinced that it would soothe all of your girlfriend’s concerns. If you would have been coherent enough to read Leah’s answer you would have known that it had the opposite effect. You did feel the constant buzzing of your phone from when the Englishwoman tried calling you over and over again, but it felt kind of nice against you aching body, so you didn’t do anything about it.
---
“She’s not answering her phone and she hasn’t texted me back, Lia! What do I do!?!”
Your girlfriend was crying as she basically screamed these words at her best friend. When she had gotten your text and couldn’t get a hold of you, she had called the Swiss woman for support and because the midfielder was known for being helpful in difficult situations.
“Okay Leah, first take a deep breath…” Lia began with a soothing tone.
“Are you kidding me?! How do you expect me to breath when I don’t know where my girlfriend, my very sick girlfriend might I add, is!” Leah yelled, feeling the need to punch something like some sort of cliché from a movie. Or even better, the blonde would have loved to have a ball at her feet right now, that she could pund with all of her strength into the back of the net. And then maybe get into a slightly too aggressive scuffle with an opponent. Just something to get rid of this nervous energy.
“You know where she is though, she’s in the hospital, so they’ll be taking care of her,” Lia reasoned, continuing quickly before your girlfriend could blow up at her again, “And fine let’s skip the breathing. Here’s what I think we should do; you pack some things your girl might need and I’m going to call the hospitals closest to her. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where she is. Then I’ll come pick you up and drive you over because you definitely shouldn’t be driving.”
Despite her earlier refusal Leah let out a deep breath, relief smoothing out the edges of her panic, at least now they had a reasonable plan. This was exactly why she had called her best friend and once the Englishwoman was less preoccupied with her fear for you she would be thanking Lia profusely.
A little later the two footballers arrived at the hospital, Lia once again taking the lead and asking about you. There was a bit of a back and forth where the staff had to figure out if they could even give them any information about you.
It was a big test for your girlfriend’s brittle composure, every second that ticked by brought her one step closer to bursting into tears or unleashing her fury on everyone that got into a five meter radius of her.
Leah managed to keep it together however, not using the healthiest coping mechanisms. The Englishwoman kept pinching herself to let at least some of the overwhelming emotions trickle out of her.
Lia frowned when she noticed, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to risk a full-blown outburst which might then keep them, or at least Leah, from seeing you even longer.
Finally they managed to find the right information and saw that Leah was in fact your emergency contact, something that the blonde had been telling them all along. If only they would have believed her then this wouldn’t have taken so long!
Thankfully things went quickly after that. Leah was led to your room while Lia wasn’t allowed to tag along. The Swiss woman promised that she would stay in the waiting room until your girlfriend had updated her, in case either Leah or you needed something.
Leah entered your room quietly, not wanting to disturb you even though with all the meds you had been given it was unlikely you would wake up anytime soon. Still she didn’t want to take the risk. So the defender tiptoed into your room, coming to a sudden halt once she had a good view of you.
It filled your girlfriend with fear and pain to see you so sick. You were pale, even more so than usual, almost the same color as the bed sheets. There was a tube connected to your arm, most likely to replenish you with everything you needed. You were also hooked up to a monitor, and it was a small relief to Leah that everything on it looked and sounded normal. As far as she could tell at least. Most of her medical knowledge stemmed from watching doctor shows, so that probably wasn’t the most reliable source.
After getting used to this sick, fragile version of you the blonde approached you, standing by your bedside. She looked down at you with teary eyes, gently stroking your cheek before smoothing out your tussled hair.
Your girlfriend craved more contact. She wanted to snuggle up next to you, wrap her arms around you and basically attach every centimeter of her body to yours. But Leah didn’t know how you would feel about that. Not when you weren’t awake to enforce your boundaries, not when you were in a vulnerable state which usually made you push people far away from you.
So with a sigh she pulled up a chair and sat down next to your bed, not even allowing herself to hold your hand. The England captain didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable even the tinie when you woke up.
It was about 30 minutes later that Leah suddenly remembered that Lia was still waiting for her. She rushed down to the waiting room, not wanting to leave you alone for a second longer than totally necessary.
“She’s okay, I think. Or not too bad at least. So you can go home,” Leah explained, sounding very unsure. Everyone had told her that you would be okay, all the signs pointed to it, but she would only be able to believe it once you woke up and she could see for herself. And maybe not even then.
“That’s good! I guess you want to go back now, but call me if you think of anything you need, yeah?” Lia replied, giving her friend a tight hug.
Leah nodded, before turning around and walking as fast as she could back to your room. She would have run, but had the distinct feeling that that wouldn’t be appreciated by the hospital staff. And the Englishwoman didn’t want to annoy anyone, not when she was aware that they were already breaking the rules for her by letting her stay with you way past visiting hours.
---
When you woke up you noticed with a pang of sadness that there was no warm body next to you. It wasn’t like you and Leah stayed over at each other’s place every day, but definitely more often than not. And lately every time you woke up alone you felt some dismay. Everything was just better when you got to start the day with your girlfriend.
The second thing you became aware of was that despite just waking up you still felt exhausted, drained was the better word really, and also somewhat hazy and achy. It was then that you remembered that you were sick and that you had this weird fever dream where you took an Uber to the hospital. If you would have had the energy for it you would have laughed at the absurdity of this.
However as you opened your eyes you realized with a silent ‘Oh’ that it hadn’t been a fever dream after all, you really were in the hospital. Panic bubbled up in you, but got quickly cut off before it could become overwhelming by your favorite voice speaking up, even if you didn’t like how worried it sounded.
“Babe, are you awake? How are you feeling?”
You turned around, your lips turning into a smile when you laid your eyes on your girlfriend. She had gotten up from the chair she had presumably been sitting in, staring down at you intently. The Englishwoman’s eyes were trailing over your entire body, however not in the way they usually did, this felt more clinical, like she was attempting to spot anything that might be wrong.
“Could be worse,” you replied.
Leah gave you an unimpressed look. “But it also could be better?” She double-checked and you nodded sheepishly.
“Is there anything I can do before I get the doctor?” Your girlfriend asked softly.
For some reason Leah was still standing a good fifty centimeters away from your bed, her arms hidden behind her back as if she had to stop herself from reaching out to you. If only she would! You longed for some comforting touches and maybe a good, reassuring hug from the blonde.
“Get me home?” You joked with a pleading look. You definitely wanted to get out of the hospital but you knew that it wasn’t up to your girlfriend, and she would never do anything to endanger you.
“No can do, sorry babe. Anything else?” Leah prodded, hoping you would ask her for a hug. She could barely contain herself from launching at you, but the fear of crossing your boundaries in such a difficult situation kept her back.
“Maybe a cuddle,” you mumbled so quietly and rapidly that Leah couldn’t decipher what you were saying.
“What was that, babe? Sorry I didn’t quite hear you,” Leah apologized, taking a step closer to you.
You locked your eyes with your girlfriend’s, letting all the love and concern shining in them wash over you and give you the strength to utter your request more loudly. There wasn’t even a reason to feel weird about it, you knew that Leah wouldn’t deny it, would most likely be happy to oblige.
“A cuddle?”
Within milliseconds your girlfriend closed the distance between the two of you, sat down on the edge of your bed and leaned down to gather you carefully in her arms. You both felt and heard the relieved sigh Leah let out when you were tucked into her arms.
It made you wonder why the blonde had kept her distance before, a certain guess at the forefront of your mind. And in the safety of your girlfriend’s arms you managed to ask about it without much over thinking or fuss.
“Why did you sit all the way over there?”
All the way over there was a bit of an exaggeration, but also not really. Any sort of distance between your sick self and your girlfriend felt like way too much.
Leah tried to lean back a bit to look you in the eyes, but you held her firmly in place. You weren’t ready to lose the comfort of her body on yours, even if she put now weight on you, not sure if it would negatively impact you in your current state.
“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with me being too close when you woke up. I know allowing closeness when you aren’t feeling too good is still very difficult for you,” Leah explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Even though your girlfriend showed you over and over again, day in and day out how amazing she was, the level of understanding and love behind this gesture still knocked you off your feet, or it would have if you were standing. It almost made you believe fully that you would always be safe with her. Almost. There was still a tiny bit of fear and insecurity left. It would probably take a good while longer until you got rid of that last remnant and you were once again very grateful for Leah’s patience.
“Thank you so so much, love,” you whispered, pulling the blonde even closer to you.
“Always,” Leah stated, not an ounce of doubt in her voice. She would always do whatever she could for you, to make you feel comfortable, loved and safe.
Your girlfriend allowed you to cuddle a bit longer until she gently extracted herself to get a doctor. At first you were somewhat annoyed at this, you would have preferred to stay wrapped up together for the rest of the night. However when the doctor announced after a quick exam that you would be allowed to go home later that day, you didn’t mind so much anymore. The thought of going home made up for losing contact with your girlfriend temporarily.
Especially because she instantly stated that she would be staying with you when the doctor pointed out that you could only go home if there was someone around to supervise you. The way her voice sounded slightly offended that this wasn’t abundantly clear to everyone made you smile fondly.
That’s how you found yourself sitting in Leah’s car that Lia had brought to the hospital early in the morning with help from Viv and Beth a few hours later. The short walk to the parking lot had tired you out and you couldn’t wait to get to Leah’s apartment and crawl into her cozy bed.
You were half asleep when your girlfriend asked you, “Home?” Still you managed to nod and echo her words. “Home,” you confirmed.
In your drowsy and still a bit feverish state you hadn’t realized that Leah was actually asking where you wanted to go, your apartment or hers. In your mind it was already decided that you would be going to the Englishwoman’s place. You loved her apartment more than yours at this point, everything about it homey and safe.
So when the blonde announced that you had arrived and you opened your eyes from the half-sleep you had been in a wave of unhappiness hit you as you took in your surroundings. You were parked in front of your own apartment building.
Tears flooded your eyes, which you tried to blink away hastily before Leah could spot them. It was stupid to be upset because of this, it wasn’t like your apartment was bad or anything, you were just really craving the comfort of your girlfriend’s place. Where everything smelt and felt like Leah.
Of course the defender detected your distress instantly. She had been watching you like a hawk ever since she had gotten to the hospital last night.
“What’s wrong, babe? Does something hurt? Should we go back to the hospital?” She asked you in rapid succession, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm and steady.
You shook your head, mumbling that it was nothing. To emphasize this point you reached for your seatbelt, determined to get out of the car and into your apartment without any more of a hassle. Everything was fine. It didn’t matter that you had wanted to go to Leah’s home. Everywhere was better than the hospital anyway.
Leah didn’t give up so easily though. She put her hand on yours lightly, not taking a hold of it however, leaving you the option to pull it back if you wanted to. You didn’t, just this small contact made you feel better instantly.
“Please tell me what’s bothering you,” your girlfriend begged, her eyes looking suspiciously wet.
“It’s stupid,” you waved Leah off.
“Please,” Leah asked again, demolishing the last of your resolve to keep this to yourself.
“I really wanted to go to your place,” you explained, rushing to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go inside now.”
Again you tried to make an attempt to leave the car, and again Leah stopped you with a gentle touch.
“We can still go over to my place if you prefer,” she offered, already turning her car back on.
“No, that’s not necessary. I’m just being silly,” you argued, but Leah just reached over to buckle you back in and pulled out of the parking space.
You didn’t have it in you to continue arguing. Plus you were too happy at the prospect of getting to go to your girlfriend’s place after all. So you just leant your head against the car window, letting your eyes flutter shut again.
“I thought you said you wanted to go home,” Leah said before you could fully fall asleep.
“I did, but I meant your place,” you answered tiredly.
“Oh,” your girlfriend exclaimed, her voice heavy with emotion. The idea of you thinking of her apartment as your home meant a lot to Leah. Every once in a while she couldn’t help but worry if she was doing enough to help you move on, to be the best girlfriend possible, to make you feel loved and safe. So this undeniable confirmation that she had been succeeding in all of these aspects meant the world to your girlfriend.
When there was no more reaction from you after this, Leah glanced over, smiling when she saw you sleeping soundly. You looked so young and open and vulnerable when you slept. Leah cherished the fact that you were comfortable being like this around her, that wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago.
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jade baby I was wondering if you could do a hurt/comfort with Steve, but the reader comforting steve while he deals with his hearing loss after all the times he got beat up and stuff? Maybe he’s frustrated and she makes him feel better:’)
ty for requesting <3 fem, 1k
Steve’s eardrum was weakened after multiple traumas to the side of his head, but it’s the strangulation of vines in the Creel house that finally gives him permanent hearing loss in his left ear. Matter of time, the doctor said.
He pretends it doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t wear the hearing aid he’s fitted for, he doesn’t go for his follow up appointments. Steve acts like he got better just like everybody else did (sort of). He doesn’t care about taking his shirt off at the pool, ‘cos you all have scars from your time in the upside down, but he doesn’t talk about his ear.
“Woah, that kid can make a wave,” he says, squinting against the sunshine, his legs still wet from swimming.
In the pool, Dustin and his friends play an aggressive game of Marco Polo. Max sits on the side with her feet in the water shouting Polo’s that only serve to confuse him, Lucas beside her laughing and trying to curve his own shouting with his hand. Dustin throws his arm out at them and soaks their swim shorts in retribution.
“He’d be winning if they stopped messing with him,” you say, sitting on the lounger next to him and passing him one of the drinks from your bag. It’s still cold. “When’s Robin getting here?”
“Uh, she’s with Nance.”
“Oh, gotcha. When is she coming?” you ask, a little louder.
He must have missed a couple of words and assumed you asked where she was. He frowns, turning the can of original coke you’ve given him over in his hand.
“Steve?”
He looks up, turning himself to you more squarely. “Yeah?”
“Do you know when Robin’s gonna be here?”
He presses a finger to his ear. “You just asked me that, huh?”
“It’s okay. I’m just wondering.”
“Uh.” He ruffles his hair, face angled down to the floor. “I don’t know. Half an hour?”
Steve isn’t easy, he’s not promiscuous (anymore) (and who cares if he is?) but he loves flirty attention, and he’s a friend in need. Also, you have a huge awful crush on him even if you won’t admit to it.
You put your hand on his knee. “Half an hour for you to kiss me stupid, then.”
He lifts his head. “You wish.” He smiles at you all smug as he covers your hand with his. “Half an hour? I could rock your world.”
You both laugh and move your hands back to your sides. Your skin feels warm where he’d held it, you can’t help smiling, but it’s obvious it hasn’t really taken his mind off of the problem. Your ruse ran out of steam too quickly.
Steve looks down at his chest. “I’m sorry. It must be annoying, repeating what you’re saying all the time.”
“It’s not.”
“Come on, I know it’s the worst.”
“Steve, it doesn’t bother me. You need me to repeat what I said, or you need me to talk louder sometimes, so I’ll do it. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” he says, “I should just wear the– the hearing aid,” —his voice goes low with embarrassment— “and stop inconveniencing everybody.”
“You’re not an inconvenience, Steve.” You tilt your head gently toward your shoulder, palm up on the chair between you. “Steve, I think everybody would agree with me when I say that we don’t mind. It’s up to you. If Max doesn’t wanna use her cane, you don’t care, do you? You just let her use your arm. It’s the same thing. Or, it feels like the same thing for us when you don’t use your hearing aid.”
He winces.
You really don’t like the look of it, unsure if you’ve said the wrong thing. “Well, I could learn sign,” you say.
“What?”
“Sign language? We could learn how to sign, and then you don’t have to wear the hearing aid, n’ you don’t have to worry I’m repeating myself.”
“You’d do that?”
“Yeah,” you say, smiling in bemusement. “Of course I would. And it would help anyways in places like this.” You gesture to the tens of kids shouting and splashing in the pool. “There’s so much noise. I can barely hear myself sometimes. And imagine the shit we could talk at the movies–”
“Thank you,” Steve says, surprising you with his arms suddenly reaching out. He kisses your cheek as he pulls you in, and he rubs your back gently, his face pressed to your hair. You hug him back and his arms tighten around you.
“You’re welcome,” you say. You haven’t even done anything.
“Seriously,” he says, giving your back a good scrunch with his hand.
It’s worth it for the scrunch alone, but you really mean it. Of course you’d learn to sign for him, you’ll do anything he needs you to do if it’ll make him more comfortable with coping with this new change. You smile into his naked shoulder, the smell of sunscreen under your nose, his hair tickling your ear.
“Oh, god, are you guys serious?” Robin asks. “When’s the wedding?”
“Should’ve started with the joke,” Steve says, putting his chin atop your head rather than pulling away. You turn just enough to see Robin from the corner of your eye.
She raises her eyebrows. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, just swapping out best friends for the better model.”
“I resent that, Steve, but I choose to forgive you because I’m in a good mood and Nancy made sandwiches.”
“My mom made them,” Nancy says from behind Robin's shoulder, looking down at the brown paper bag she’s carrying.
They turn away from you to call the kids in for lunch. “What did she…” Steve says.
“Her mom made sandwiches. I’ll get you a PB and J before Mike claims them all,” you promise.
He smiles a line, nodding at you appreciatively. When you turn away, he brings a hand to his ear, and he doesn’t hate himself for something he can’t help.
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